Ephesians 5:15-20
Acts 28:11-16, 30-31
Our reading from Acts announces: “And so we came to Rome.”
O.K.—Let’s see where we are:
Trade with China is shaky at best.
Increasing agriculture and industry means increasing methane—a greenhouse gas—is being released into the atmosphere.
The gap between the rich and the poor continues to grow.
Wealthy men are involved in all kinds of sexual misconduct.
Jewish people are accused of being “disloyal.”
The leader is acclaimed as a god by some—and quite ready to receive such acclamation.
Oh. I should be clear. I’m talking about Rome in the mid first century, when Paul arrived there, not our nation in the past week. The more things change…
As we’ve been traveling with Paul around the Mediterranean this summer, we caught up with him in Troas last Sunday. From there he eventually made his way to Jerusalem, where, as was often the case, a riot ensued. Roman soldiers arrested him, thinking he was a Jewish rabble-rouser. Paul, of course, was quick to claim his Jewish identity; he was also clear that he was a Roman citizen, born in Tarsus. After a series of hearings, Paul, at his request, was sent to Rome for trial. That is where we find him today.
The Acts of the Apostles ends with Paul in Rome, awaiting trial, and ultimately his death. So it might seem as though we’ve come to the end of the road.
But the author of this book does not tell us how things end for Paul—that is not the purpose of this book. The writer is interested in telling the story of the spread of Christianity from Jerusalem into all the world—even to the very center of power in Rome.
And here, at the end of this book, as Paul faces the end of his life, we find some encouragement for this time of endings and beginnings in our own lives.
We start wrapping up the summer days—but don’t worry, there’s still Labor Day weekend ahead. And the actual season of summer doesn’t end for almost another month—although I’ve been noticing that the hours of daylight are growing shorter.
At the same time we are at the beginning of the academic year and of the program year here at the church. We’re rested and looking ahead.
In this context of endings and beginnings, we hear that Paul welcomed those who came to him, proclaimed the realm of God boldly and taught about Christ without hindrance. I think the lesson here for us is not so much about what we do as how we go about it.
Let’s begin by considering once more the prayer of the Psalmist: “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Now this psalm is said to be a prayer of Moses. And although we today might not think that this psalm originated with Moses, his story helps us understand those words.
It has been pointed out that the problem Moses had was time—that is, his time was too short. After leading the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt, after putting up with them and chastising them and giving them the Torah in the wilderness, Moses died before entering the Promised Land. And so his story is the human story; his story is our story. As one person put it, “We always come up short, in terms of time, intentions, and accomplishments.”
That might sound like bad news—even as we enter a time of new beginnings, time’s running out.
And yet, if we listen we will hear encouragement for our own lives in this story. Clinton McCann, who teaches at the UCC Eden Seminary down in St. Louis asks: If even Moses came up short, should we be surprised or lament when we do? The death of Moses was a reminder that God, not Moses would lead the people into the land. Our time, is not all there is to measure. God’s time is primary and…our time must be measured finally by God’s time.”
So Moses, or the unknown psalmist, or we ourselves do not ask that God teach us how tragic and oppressive life is. We would ask with the psalmist to learn how to accept the gift of our days, however many or few.”[i] It is in these days that come to us as a gift that we would work and would pray that our work might prosper.
This brings us to those surprising words from the Letter to the Ephesians: “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people, but as wise, making the most of time, because the days are evil.”
Two things are clear in these words. First, following in the way of Jesus Christ requires that we use the time we have to the best of our ability. We receive our life, our time, from God, and we should be guided by the wisdom that each day is of eternal value and eternal meaning.
Second, we are encouraged to make the most of time, not because everything is going so well and it’s an opportune moment. We are encouraged to make the most of time—because the days are evil. And I know, evil is a strong word.
But we look around and see:
The unchecked assault on the environment is resulting in global climate change.
Unchecked greed is resulting in a global inequality between rich and poor.
Unchecked religious fanaticism is resulting in global unrest and animosity.
Our time, like all times, is filled with threats, with dangers, and yes, with what we would call “evil.” We may feel that we are in a vast wilderness with no Promised Land in sight. In just such circumstances we are called to live fully, seeking to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Our task in these days is to give God those works that might prosper—to create beauty, to be agents of healing, to raise children who can love as they have been loved, to study or teach or work in ways that look forward and create a future, generate wealth and share wealth. All such works matter now in time and will matter continuing into God’s eternity.
This is one of the countless benefits of life in a congregation, life in this congregation. What we do here, how we spend our time here, adds to the life we have, it offers more life for all involved. Our participation in the common life of this congregation leads to more life in the wider world.
By doing the small things in the midst of this community, we grow and are empowered to do greater things for a greater number of people beyond our walls. You greet people here and become more welcoming in the world. You study with others here and you find yourself better able to examine the deeper and more perplexing problems that confront us beyond the church. You teach a child and gain new insights into being a parent.
And so on.
Each of us might find newness of life in these days that we are given. Each year, each day is a gift.
God gives us life—and time, the stuff that life is made of.
Yes, Ephesians tells us that the days are evil—although sometimes, you know this, don’t you, sometimes they can seem pretty good. Let us make the most of time.
And so we come back to Paul, under house arrest, boldly proclaiming the realm of God, teaching without hindrance.
The days are evil—and Paul makes the most of them.
Paul remains true to his calling, he continues on his way. In doing so he invites us to reconsider our own tasks and our sense of success and failure.
Failure or success—contemplating either leads to fear.
Maybe that’s what’s going on in the hearts and minds of all those new students.
What if I’m just not up to it? What if I don’t understand a word as I sit in the lecture hall? What if I fail and have to go home in shame?
Or—
What if I am up to it? What if I go to the head of the class—or even the top quarter? What if I succeed? What new and greater challenges will I then face? What will my friends say?
Of course, those of you who aren’t students are beginning to realize that students aren’t the only ones who can be frightened. Students aren’t the only ones who fear failure. They aren’t the only ones who fear success.
My guess is that somewhere you do as well.
I know I do.
Being rejected or being accepted. That first “F” on a test—or that first “A.” Losing a job or getting a promotion. The patient who dies in spite of all you did or the patient who recovers because of what you did. The performance that is met with silence—or the one that is met with thunderous applause. The relationship that comes to an end—or the relationship that is moving toward greater commitment. All such experiences can lead to fear and trembling.
Who are we when we fail?
Who are we when we succeed?
Both failure and success call us to look at ourselves and our lives in new and often unexpected ways.
So here’s the good news: there is no promise that any of this will be easy. There is no guarantee that all will approve. There is no assurance that the way ahead will be smooth.
The days are evil.
Yes, that’s the good news.
In faith, we do not blithely say that everything will be all right.
At the same time, neither do we say that nothing will be all right—for we also know and celebrate the resurrection and find ourselves alive in the power of the resurrection. That power gives us the freedom at each moment to choose the way of love, to choose the way of compassion, to choose the way of justice and mercy. And in making such choices we become co-creators with God. We make this world that much more like God’s vision for it.
We come to the end of the summer, to the end of our travels with Paul.
Trade with China is shaky at best.
Increasing agriculture and industry means increasing methane—a greenhouse gas—is being released into the atmosphere.
The gap between the rich and the poor continues to grow.
Wealthy men are involved in all kinds of sexual misconduct.
Jewish people are accused of being “disloyal.”
The leader is acclaimed as a god by some—and quite ready to receive such acclamation.
This is not the end.
We continue to walk in the ways of Jesus Christ, known and to be made known to us, with a sense, a faith that there is a power at work doing something unexpected, something undeserved; a power at work in the world that brings new life where we might expect no life.
In the midst of change and uncertainty, God is continuing to do new and amazing things with this congregation;
In the midst of change and uncertainty, God is continuing to do new and amazing things in our individual lives;
In the midst of change and uncertainty, God is continuing to do new and amazing things in our nation and world.
Welcome to this new beginning.
[i] Clinton McCann, Psalm 90, NIB