In his first letter to the Corinthians, chapter 7, the Apostle Paul writes, “Brothers and sisters, the appointed time has grown short…For the present form of this world is passing away.” (See 1 Corinthians 7:29-31) 

This letter is rich. In this same letter, we have that great passage that is often read at weddings: Love is patient, love is kind… We have the passage about the church being like a body with all the different parts functioning together. We read about spiritual gifts, and there is a beautiful treatise on the hope of the resurrection. The letter is a treasure trove of insight into the human condition and the way in which God in Christ seeks to come into our lives. 

In the background of all of this, there was a deep-seated belief that drove everything else. Paul believed, and these early Christians believed, that Christ would return at any moment; and that God’s kingdom would come in its fullest sense within their lifetimes. This expectation lent a sense of urgency to their lives and ministries.

It is interesting how even today, I’ll often hear people say: I think the end times are near. Look at all the craziness happening in the world… All these signs point to Jesus’ coming back any minute. But people have been saying that since Paul’s day. And truly, we don’t know when…

What we do know is that Paul still hit on a profound truth: We don’t know how long we have. Whether Jesus comes back today, tomorrow, in 500 or even 5000 years, it is an inescapable fact of life that we don’t have forever; that all that is, is temporal, fleeting.

The writer Brian Koppelman makes the point that: “If you look at the great expanse of time, we’re not even a dot… And if you walk through life with the knowledge that one day, everything we love will be here no more, for me, it makes me love harder… more fiercely. It makes me want to be more expansive, more giving, and more connected. It makes me aware of how fortunate I am to be present in this moment…” 

May you and I be the kind of people who go through this life aware of how precarious and precious it all is. May we live with a deep sense of gratitude for the time we have been given, and the time we have left. And, may our relationships, our decisions, and our faith be ever shaped by that insight.

Let us pray: We are grateful, O God, for the gift of this life, and for the promise that in life and in death, we belong to you. In the time we have been given, help us to love more fiercely, to give more generously, to open our hearts more widely, and to build bridges; in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Some time ago, a friend told me that she has a great aunt who won’t go to church anymore. She went through a terrible divorce and she feels she is no longer worthy to be in worship. Because she is unable to forgive herself, she is unable to believe God forgives her. 

I felt sad when I heard her story because forgiveness is at the heart of the gospel. The truth is, however, many of us have a hard time letting go of the past. So often, we beat ourselves up over past mistakes and failures.

The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote this prayer: “Hold not our sins up against us, but hold us up against our sins, so that the thought of You when it wakens in our soul, should not remind us of what we have committed, but of what You did forgive, not of how we went astray, but of how You did save us.”

In our worship services every week, we hear an assurance of pardon:

One: There is good news! God is forgiving and merciful.  
Many: We can start over; the old life has gone, and a new life has begun.  

One: Know that you are forgiven and be at peace.   
Many: Thanks be to God!

The Apostle Paul wrote, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

God loves you and has forgiven you. May you forgive yourself.

Our prayer today is taken from the prayer of Manasseh – which is included in the Greek and Slavonic Bibles. Let us pray: O Lord Almighty, God of our ancestors, of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob… immeasurable and unsearchable is your promised mercy…And now I bend the knee of my heart, imploring you for your kindness. For you, O Lord, are the God of those who turn to you, and in me you will manifest your goodness. For unworthy as I may be, you will save me according to your great mercy, and I will praise you continually all the days of my life. Amen. 

Mother Theresa once wrote, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love. It’s not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it.” 

Author Shane Claiborne lives in an intentional Christian community in inner-city Philadelphia, ministering to the urban poor and homeless. They often have people stop by their house to ask for help. They placed a sign above their door that can be read only from the inside which reads, “Today… Small things with great love, or don’t answer the door”.

Claiborne argues that our great ideas and visions for the world mean nothing if we can treat others with love and respect.  

Today, may you and I remember that our small actions, filled with love, whether carried out within a ministry, or within everyday relationships, make all the difference. 

Let us pray: Sometimes, O God, we get overwhelmed with the need we see all around us. Sometimes it feels as though our everyday efforts matter for very little. Remind us again that our ministry for you is never done in vain, and that our small acts of love have compounding effects. Help us to be your light, your hope for the world even in the details of life. Use our words, our attitudes, and small acts of kindness to your glory. We pray in the name of the One who is love. Amen.

Many years ago now, my mother bought me a book called, “Journeys of Simplicity,” by Philip Harnden. It is a book of collected lists. “Most of these lists came about from journeys people have undertaken: place to place, day to day, birth to death. Each list simply describes what was carried, often in a rucksack, sometimes deeper within the traveler.” 

It’s really quite fascinating. Included in these lists are the possessions of Thomas Merton in his hermitage, Henry David Thoreau at Walden, Annie Dillard in her writing tent, John Muir on his thousand-mile walk to the Gulf, and others. 

The Author begins the book by telling the story of Pang Yin. Twelve hundred years ago in China, this middle-aged man loaded everything he owned onto a boat and sank it all in the Tung-t’ing Lake. After that, we are told, “he lived like a single leaf.”

Harnden writes, “See him there in the early morning, treading water in the middle of the lake, watching the last bubbles rise from the depths. The air crisp and quiet. The lake misty and as still as sky. Then turning, stroking toward the shore.” Leaving it all behind.”

“After that, he dedicated his life to his family…”

“What would it be like to live like a single leaf? What would it mean to make one’s life a journey of simplicity? a journey of focus and intention? a journey of lightness and light?”

Often during the season of Lent, we think about fasting, giving up something to create space for God to work in their lives. This is not necessarily a fast from food, though some people do. Others might fast from alcohol or technology – or something else they love. And in that fast, when they feel pangs of hunger – or pangs of craving – it puts them in touch with a deeper craving – a deeper hunger – a hunger for God himself. 

Perhaps we could also think about this, not just in terms of letting go of physical objects, but also letting go of any burdens we carry, any crippling fears, or unrelenting worries, or jealousies, or past wrongs that weigh us down. 

St. Augustine observed that our hands and hearts are often too full to receive the good things God offers us. 

I wonder what you might consider surrendering/letting go of today so that your journey might be a little lighter, a little freer, and a little more open to the grace and mercy of God.

Let us pray: God of Grace, sometimes it feels as though we are carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders. Help us to empty our hearts and minds as we hand over to you again our worries, our anxieties, our fears, or anything else that may be distancing us from you or others. Grant us your peace; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today’s message was written by my friend Rev. Roger Kunkel, founder of Dial Hope.

One of the greatest truths of the Bible is … We – you and I – are made in the image of God. Talk about a miracle! God made cats and dogs, hummingbirds, red cardinals, squirrels, elephants, giraffes, pelicans, dolphins, and the duck-billed platypus. God made the trees, the flowers, and the skies. God made all of it and said, “That’s good! Now, that’s good!” And to cap it all off, God said, “Now, for the masterpiece: I am going to create something like myself!” And God made you! You see, it is a sin for us to say, “Well, I’m only human.” If you want to see one of God’s miracles, don’t gather pine cones, don’t look at the Milky Way, don’t capture a squirrel, don’t find a picture of a trout stream, just look at the person next to you. There is God’s miracle! There is the crown of God’s creation! 

Let us pray: Creator God, we marvel at your small wonders and your overarching grandeur. We crouch down to examine a centipede and we stand on a mountaintop to try to take in the Milky Way. We listen to the tiny cry of a newborn kitten and we cringe in the face of the roar of the thunderstorm. We are small indeed in the scheme of the universe, but we are grateful that you have made us in your image. When we are weary, give us energy. When we are sad, give us comfort. For all those who are suffering loss, who wonder what will happen next, we pray that you will walk before them and enable us to be companions along the way. Now “raise us up on eagle’s wings, bear us on the breath of dawn, make us to shine like the sun, and hold us in the palm of your hand.” (On Eagles Wings, based on Psalm 91). We ask this in Jesus’ name, the friend of all. Amen.