 | The New England Church PulpitNew England Congregational Church UCC |
Tending the Garden of the Mundane | 1 Samuel 16.14-23 | March 10, 2002 |
The story of the Little Red Hen is good theological instruction here. You remember the story, how she invited all of her barnyard friends to eat fresh-baked bread. They were eager to join her until they find out that the wheat must be planted, that the garden must be watered, that the weeds must be pulled, that the grain must be harvested and ground into flour, and the flour mixed and kneeded and baked. No one is interested in doing the things that are required to make the bread, they only want to eat it.
Gregory Jones, dean of Duke University, coaches a basketball team of 9 to 11 year old boys. “They never want to practice,” he says. “They want to scrimmage so they can show off their three-pointers or their spectacular ‘Michael Jordan moves.’” It is difficult to help them understand Jordan’s commitment to the mundane tasks of repetition discipline and practice. We learn from other excellent athletes, performers and artists about the centrality of this attention to detail, habit, and the doing of ‘ordinary things’ day by day. It is true of Michael Jordan and Isaac Stern. Whether we are shooting endless free throws or practicing scales, excellence is shaped by disciplined attention to the little things. (The Christian Century, January 2-9, 2002)
The major difference between athletes who win Olympic medals and those who don’t is not talent; it is rather the attention to engage in the mundane activities of free throw after free throw, of laps in the pool hour after hour, day after day that hone the skills that give them the edge.
Could it also be true that the life of faith is developed not by talent but by tending the garden of the mundane? Kathleen Norris says that “it is a paradox of human life that in worship, as in human love, it is in the routine and the everyday that we find the possibilities for the greatest transformation.” (The Quotidian Mysteries) We tend to think that the life of faith is more about ‘scrimmaging’, about proving ourselves, about correct belief, than it is about engaging in daily routine, disciplines, and practices that open us to God’s grace.
Does it feel like a wasted day when all you do is tie the kids’ shoes, wipe a snotty nose, answer the best you can the ‘whys?’ of inquisitive minds, referee spats, dry tears, kiss scraped knees and wounded egos? Does it feel like a waste of time to chat with an elderly friend when a 20-minute conversation has only involved 5 minutes of new material? Living in partnership with someone and making a home together is not so much about falling in love and living happily ever after as it is eating together, fighting fairly, putting the toilet seat down, squeezing the toothpaste at the right end, and accepting each other at their worst.
Commitment to the little things is what the life of faith is about. It is not about what we achieve or what we accomplish, or whether we do things better than someone else, or how much we impress God, but rather the attitude that informs our daily routine.
Last Sunday, most of us had to shovel the snow. Some of you got it done in time to get to church; most of you did not, but that’s ok! Whenever we shoveled the snow, the question is: did we do it just to get it done so you could go some place? Or in our doing it, did we delight in the beauty of snow, the crispness of the air, the gratitude that we had a driveway to shovel and a car to shovel out? These are the mundane experiences that are the stuff of life, yet we often find them irritants along the way to something more sublime that we are out to accomplish. Practicing mindfulness with the small activities of each day is the pathway to faithfulness and fulfillment.
Throughout the New Testament we find Jesus happening upon things on his way, rather than doing things that get him elected as messiah. He is sitting by a well when a woman comes along that engages him in conversation. He is going to get a little rest, and he sees a crowd of hungry people. He sets off on a journey to do one thing and gets sidetracked by people who are blind, or crippled, or dying. We don’t get a sense that he has a mission loftier than the mundane activities that sidetrack him. And in so doing, he has become a messiah. He is someone to follow, not because he did great things, but that he did small things in a great way.
Remember that if a cow gives milk, she need not play the piano. It is a wonderful piece of theology that I wish had made it in the bible. If a cow gives milk, she need not play the piano. Each of us has been gifted with a variety of things we do well, and throughout Jesus’s ministry he encouraged people to do well what they do naturally. It is not about accomplishing lofty, attention-getting goals but rather about being diligent in the mundane activities that make an art-form of the things we do well.
David was a tender of sheep and an artisan with the harp. He did not aspire to be king, he did not roughshod over people to achieve his political ambitions. He simply gave himself wholly to shepherding and plucking strings in the fields where no one was even around to hear him. And yet he is the one called upon to soothe the king in his dementia. The story is not about his talent but about his dedication to things he does naturally, for in these activities he developed the wherewithal to be Israel’s greatest king.
What would our lives look like if we practiced well the mundane things that are set before us each day as opportunities to develop faith, and stretch our imaginations, and engage us as people of integrity? We seek patience, yet we’re the first to honk the horn when the car in front of us doesn’t move at the first blink of the green light. Is it not a place to practice patience...over and over, day in and day out, every time we get into the car? Is not listening attentively to someone who stutters an opportunity to value the one speaking as an important part of the human family?
In his painting entitled the ‘The Cistern,’ French Rococo painter, Jean-Baptiste Chardin expresses the mundane as sacrament. In the foreground is a woman bending before a cistern to pour water into a bucket, her white cap hiding half her face and the simple room disappearing in the dark tones of the background. It is a humble scene, sparse in detail. But the painting organizes and structures itself on the dignity of everyday life. Simple gestures and duties become sacraments. Life itself becomes a prayer. The woman, bowed in her task, might as well be in the midst of some ritual of worship. The simple sustaining elements of life are enough to fill the soul.
How well do we tend the garden of daily routine? How dedicated are we to those things that seem insignificant in the larger scope of things? Do we draw water from the kitchen sink with any sense of awe for what water means to our lives, or the privilege it is to have clean, drinkable water at our finger tips?
What would it be like if we treated each conversation with our children, our partner, our spouse or our neighbor as if it were our last, honoring even the most trivial topics as sacraments of life? We never know when that conversation will be our last. Jesus reminds us that when we honor even the least of the important events in our lives, we honor God.
What can we do to tend more mindfully the garden of our daily routine? We are enjoined to pray for daily bread, and told not to be anxious about tomorrow. Tending to the garden of our work, our study, our worship, our family, our community is the sacrament that makes people of faith faithful people. Amen.
–Gary L. McCann
PASTORAL PRAYER
Force that through the green stem drives the flower, blossom in us amid the cold of winter. Holy Force that through the rock drives the water, flow through us as spring of fresh water for thirsty souls. Music of the spheres, conspire with our spirits to sing of dreams yet to be realized in the realm of your love. Joy of all joys, Peace that passes all human understanding we seek today to align ourselves with things holy so we might better serve as we are called and live purposefully and mindfully as we are gifted.
Once again the week since we last gathered has been filled with more violence than we care to admit. The commitment to religions that should unite us have become so rigid they incite anger and hatred that is resolved only in killing. We seek to make of our souls sanctuaries of good will, to make of our minds gardens of unembittered mercy, free of hatred and vindication where seeds of peace may sprout, to make of our hearts fertile soil in which new life may be nurtured far beneath the soil of frozen traditions.
Tune the world’s harmonies to your divine pitch, that we may sing together the melodies of hope in whatever tradition is ours–whether Christian, Jew, Muslim, Atheist, Buddhist, Native American, Celtic, Humanist, or Free-lance religionists. Bestow upon those fighting in Afghanistan, in Israel, and in other parts of the globe, a passion for peace.
Stretch our sensitivities and loosen our purse strings that generosity may be the banner under which we vote for better funding of schools in our community and provide quality health care for everyone, where need informs our decisions regardless of beliefs, sexual orientation, gender, or politics.
For those grieving we seek strength. For those involved in the horrible accident in Chicago, be present. For homebound and ill, for political candidates and voters alike, for those facing unknown events this week that will change life, we seek your spirit of discernment and peace.
In temptation empower us, in anxiety calm us, in weakness fortify us, in doubt guide us, and in grief steady us. Be to us life and peace. In the name of the Christ, Amen.
Tao Te Ching
(The Book of the Way)
8
The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Way.
In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.
When you are content to be simply yourself
and don’t compare or compete,
everybody will respect you.
24
He who stands on tiptoe
doesn’t stand firm.
He who rushes ahead
doesn’t go far.
He who tries to shine
dims his own light.
He who defines himself
can’t know who he really is.
He who has power over others
can’t empower himself.
He who clings to his work
will create nothing that endures.
If you want to accord with the Way,
Just do your job, then let go.
| Copyright © 2002 by Gary L. McCann. All rights reserved. |