Borrowed Time

I preached this sermon in Alice Millar Chapel February 13, 2005.

Act One. Scene – The Garden of Eden. Paradise. Actors – One serpent, one man, one woman, Adam and Eve. Lush vegetation, verdant, healthy, abundant, adorns the stage. Trees dripping with fruit, every kind you might imagine, everywhere you look. And it’s all at their disposal. Well, maybe not all of it. There is that one tree in the very center. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil, I believe God said. And God was rather clear about this. If you eat of this tree, if you even touch its fruit, you are going to die. That, my friends, is fairly straightforward. There isn’t a lot of wiggle room. Not much space for individual interpretation.

Eve is enjoying your typical day in paradise – nothing out of the ordinary. Slithering toward her, a serpent. We tend to think of this serpent as a garden-variety snake. Take a look in the stained glass, right behind me, for one depiction. So… along comes this snake, which we are told is by nature craftier than all of the other animals. Troublemaker that he is, probably trying to incite outrage, he wants to know what exactly God has said concerning consumption of the garden’s bounty: “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” No, no – she assures her inquisitive reptilian friend. It’s just this one tree that is off limits. No big deal, really.

She should have walked away, gone on her merry way, but no… She had to stay to hear the snake out. “That’s a bunch of hooey – the only reason God doesn’t want you to eat from that tree is because once you eat from that tree, you will be wise! You will know the difference between good and evil. You will become like God – and God just doesn’t want the competition. Go ahead. You know you want to.”

So, she looks at the tree, its forbidden fruit hanging just within reach. It does look luscious. And what could be wrong with wanting to know more? Surely nothing. It couldn’t really be said ‘she should have known better,’ now, could it? She grabs a hold, the fruit falls off the branch, as the branch rebounds, and the leaves brush her face. She takes a bite. It is good. Wow. She offers a bite to her husband, who happily partakes, as well. And then… and then their eyes are opened. And then… and then they realize that they have no clothes on. And then they realize that to be naked is a shameful thing, so they fashion for themselves loin clothes of fig leaves. Now they know.

Act Two. Scene – The wilderness. Actors: Jesus and the devil, not to mention the angels, but they will be running a little late. We can assure you they’ll get here in time. Be warned this act is 40 days long – there will be no intermission. Forty days, forty nights, cut off from civilization. Forty days, forty nights, of fasting – no food, no drink. Forty days, forty nights. Jesus is ravenous. Maybe he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. Maybe he doesn’t so much care how much longer he can hold out. Enter the tempter, the devil: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” Chances are good that Jesus might have already thought that the stones were loaves of bread. Deprived of life’s most basic necessities for that long, hallucinations would not be uncommon. But, nevertheless, Jesus kept his resolve: “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ” Now, some of us might have more experience than others in eating our words, but… I would have to question the nutritional value of language.

The scene changes, and the devil leads Jesus to the holy city, and places him on top of the synagogue, perhaps a rather precarious perch. “If you the Son of God, jump! Go on! Isn’t it also written that God’s angels will save you? You won’t even get a scratch. Prove it. I dare you.” And with composure one might not expect, Jesus simply states, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ” Seems to me he could have just as easily said, “What? Are you nuts? Have you seen how far down it is? Angels or not, I’m not stupid! What’s with you, anyway?

What’s with you, indeed! One more scene – this time, atop a very high mountain. The view – phenomenal. He could actually see all the kingdoms of the world, in all their glorious splendor. “See this? It’s all yours. All you have to do – bow down and worship me. That’s all. What do you say? You know you want it!” Never blinking, never batting an eyelash or even breaking a sweat, Jesus thunders a reply: “Away with you, Satan! For it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’ ” Which part of ‘Absolutely Not’ don’t you understand? The devil exits stage right – enter the angels, in the nick of time, I might add. They take good care of Jesus – he is likely in dire need of good care. A few years ago, the theater group at my mom’s church performed the musical version of “Cotton Patch Gospel.” I think one of my favorite scenes was at the conclusion of the 40 days in the wilderness, when the angels appeared bearing a bag full of chili cheese dogs from The Hot Dog Shop, the most well known fast food joint in town.

Temptation – the promise of good things, ill begotten. A trap. A trick. A test. Living dangerously, with little regard for consequence. Doing the wrong thing, for the wrong reason. Justifying un-just acts. Rationalizing what should be irrational. Giving in. Giving up.

I think more often than not, thankfully, our own brushes with temptation tend not to be as “glamorous,” shall we say, as snakes in the grass and devils in the desert. Perhaps we struggle with that sumptuous plate of brownies, just calling our name at a community meal. Or the group of friends who have just asked us to come with on this or some other outing, even though two midterms and one twenty page paper await. Or the sharp, biting comeback that we don’t really mean, but somehow manage to say anyway. Chances are good the ramifications of yielding to these temptations probably aren’t going to get us kicked out of paradise, or flub up the salvation of humankind.

But, what is it about temptation? Why is it so very seductive? Why are we able to stand firm sometimes, while other times we fold? I certainly hope you aren’t expecting me to offer an answer, once and for all. I don’t really think there are many, if any, questions or answers that can claim to tow such a line. But then, since I suppose you are expecting me to say something…
I think it has to do with self-discipline. With resolve. With the ability to look beyond the immediate payoff to the eventual reward. When I think about just some of the differences between the way Adam and Eve handled their temptation and the way Jesus handled his, the first thing that comes to mind – Jesus had something to say. He had a response on the tip of his tongue. Eve just kind of stood there, taking in all the of the snake’s rhetoric. Before she knew it, she had assimilated his lies, accepting them as truth. Jesus, on the other hand, was ready. Well versed in what is written, he is able to articulate what he believes to be true, what he knows to be true.

Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, began our observance of Lent. Our forty days of trial and temptation in the wilderness of our own lives. And what a wilderness some of us may know! Perhaps loss weighs heavily upon your heart and mind – the loss of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, the loss of a sense of direction. Perhaps health is a concern – physical, mental, spiritual, your own, or that of someone dear to you. Perhaps the uncertain state of the world keeps you up at night – hunger, homelessness, violence, at home and far away. Only you know the landscape of your personal wilderness. Only you are even vaguely familiar with the terrain.
From a word origin standpoint, Lent has to do with the onset of spring. Interesting, given that it certainly doesn’t feel much like spring this morning. I’m going to suggest another connection, founded on nothing more than my love of words and the playful quality they can at times possess. What if we think of these forty days of Lent as borrowed time? A time apart? A part of that which makes us who we are? What if we think of Lent as a time to step back, so that we can move forward? A time to reflect, so that we might better project to others that which we hold to be truly important?

I like this notion of borrowed time, because it seems so much of our time is spoken for. Between classes and committees and appointments and jobs and family and friends and the gym and groceries and laundry and the library and rehearsals and… there’s hardly time to take a breath! But, these forty days invite us, encourage us, to slow down. To find our center, or rediscover it anew. To give something up. To take something on.

Borrowed time. In a few moments, we will celebrate the baptism of a beautiful child. She is a gift from God. A child of God. Today her parents will covenant to raise her within the church, to teach her and surround her with God’s love as well as their own, during this borrowed time they have with her.

Borrowed time. Whether you welcome it, or wrestle with it, whether you find yourself embraced or eluded… resist the temptation to wish it away. Lent is a time of preparation, and we’ve much to do. Let us be about the business of doing it! Amen.