In Process
In
Process
June 1, 2008
Text: 1 John
3:1-3
1 John 3:1-3
3:1 See what love the
Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that
is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did
not know him. 2 Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be
has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed,
we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. 3 And all who have
this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.
NRSV
Behold, the bonsai.
The Japanese word “bonsai”
literally means, “a plant in a tray, or pot.”
You might not have known
this, but my parents made a living raising Bonsai trees in Poplar Bluff.
Each year we planted a bonsai orchard. That’s hard work, because seeds
for these little trees are, well, really little. It’s worth the work,
though, because they develop quickly—they don’t have too far to
grow. We harvested them each year, and sold them to the Wohlgemuth family.
They had a tiny little saw mill, and made little bonsai doll houses
out of them.
Truth, or big fat lie?
Of course, big fat lie.
Look at these two plants.
They’re both junipers.
This juniper [the bonsai]
is a San Jose juniper. Grows in the mountains of California. Left in
the wild, it could grow 60, 80 feet high, but look at how delicate and
beautiful it is.
This other plant is also
a juniper [the shrub], but it doesn’t quite have the same shape, does
it? Left alone, it could grow in all sorts of direction.
How does one juniper become
a bonsai, and the other just a leafy shrub or tree?
Glenn Pauley, a member of
our congregation and also a member of the Bonsai Society of Greater
St. Louis, told me the secret. This is his bonsai, and it’s about
80 years old.
Glenn cares for it with
the proper watering, nutrients, and cultivation. But the most important
thing he does is pruning the branches. This tree became beautiful, strong,
healthy because of constant trimming. Instead of growing wild, and without
shape, it grew into an enduring work of art.
Can you make the connection
between the art of bonsai and the art of shaping your soul?
How often we think of the
painful things that happen to us as evil and destructive. Those difficult
times try us, beat us down, demoralize and depress us.
But what would happen if
we began thinking of those times as “pruning” events? What would
happen if we saw those events as things that can make us stronger? That
can make us call on new resources? That can make us claw our roots deeper
into the soil, seeking nutrients?
I’m sure the bonsai tree,
feeling the clippers, doesn’t say, “Oh boy, I’m being pruned again!”
And we, when we hurt, don’t say that either. But for both tree and
human, the touch of the clippers ultimately serves to shape, strengthen,
and make more beautiful our souls.
Sometimes those pruning
events are tragedies that happen totally outside our control,
and we think we can never recover. A bad diagnosis. The loss of a job.
An accident.
If you brought the pain
of such an event with you into this place today, know this: the Good
News for you is that life awaits you beyond the tragedy. The Good News
is that tenderly, with the care of a bonsai master, the Holy Spirit,
is shaping your soul in the midst of your pain.
The Spirit didn’t cause
the pain. Pain is the price we have to pay for the privilege of being
human. BUT…the Spirit will not let the pain stop you from becoming
the person God’s dreamed you to be. And somehow, whatever might have
happened to you, will serve to open you to life in a deeper, more beautiful
way.
The late Erma Bombeck, in
her Mother’s Day column of 1995, made this point when she talked about
mothers who went through probably THE most painful event in the human
experience: the loss of a child. She wrote:
“The longer I live,
the more convinced I become that surviving changes us. After the bitterness,
the anger, the guilt and the despair are tempered by time, we look at
life differently.
“While I was writing
my book I Want to Grow Hair. I Want to Grow Up. I Want to Go to Boise,
I talked with mothers who had lost a child to cancer. Every single one
said death gave their lives new meaning and purpose. And who do you
think prepared them for the rough, lonely road they had to travel? Their
dying child. They pointed their mothers toward the future and
told them to keep going. The children already had accepted what their
mothers were fighting to reject.”
Even in the unthinkable,
the hand of the Master tenderly shapes the soul.
Sometimes the pruning events
are things we bring on ourselves.
You might have brought with
you today the pain that comes from an accidental slip of the tongue.
A repeated failure. A moral shortcoming that’s embedded deep in your
soul.
After a while, we sort of
give up on ourselves being any different. We throw up our hands and
say, “Well, this is just the way I am.” We think we’re a bunch
of set-in-concrete characteristics that are indelibly imprinted upon
our DNA. We tell ourselves things like, “I’m such a failure…I’m
so impatient…I’m such a procrastinator…”
But we’re not like this.
We’re not a bag of static stuff. We’re spiritual creatures “in
process”—a process of being shaped, pruned into something beautiful—something
God has imagined for us. God sees the bonsai in the shrub.
Can we?
Martin Luther, the great
reformer, put it best:
This life, therefore,
is not godliness but the process of becoming godly, not health but getting
well, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not now
what we shall be, but we are on the way. The process is not yet finished,
but it is actively going on. This is not the goal but it is the right
road. At present, everything does not gleam and sparkle, but everything
is being cleansed.
— Martin Luther,
quoted by Rueben P. Job and Norman Shawchuck in A Guide to Prayer
for All God’s People (Upper Room, 1990).
When you get down on yourself;
when you fail: you’re feeling the touch of the pruning shears. It
hurts to face your shortcomings, openly and without defense. But if
you’re open to learning and growing through them, then the Spirit
will do the amazing for you: One day you’ll look in the mirror and
not see a failure, but a beautiful child of God. [Let me let you in
on a secret—when I look at you, that’s who I see!]
Prepare for communion today
by daring to remember the pruning times in your life—whether those
times were when something happened to you, or something you brought
on yourself.
Those are the times when
a plan failed, a dream died, a hope vanished. Those are the times a
relationship ended without closure or understanding. Those are the times
when anxiety or depression enveloped you like a cocoon from which you
couldn’t free yourself.
Imagine such times. Bring
them up here with you. And dare start to be thankful for them. Dare
understand that God is working through them, FOR YOU. Using them to
smooth out the rough edges, cut off the dead areas, so you may grow
more beautiful.
Communion is an appropriate
sacrament for this, don’t you think?
When Jesus instituted that
Last Supper, he was facing a pruning event. The cross—what bad people
do to good people. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to be the
victim of our violence. BUT…he was faithful. He said, “Father, I
trust you, no matter what.”
The result?
The crucified Jesus was
transformed into the risen Christ.
For all who believe in the
redeeming power of the Father, remember this. Through what you encounter,
you will be transformed.
The dark of the cross will
be eclipsed by the light of the opened tomb.
The broken heart will heal
stronger.
The confused mind will gain
clarity
The lonely soul will experience
more intimate companionship.
Believe the Gospel this
morning.
God
DOES see the bonsai in us, when we only see the shrub.
Some of us with our AARP
cards will remember the comedy team of George Burns and Gracie Allen.
They were stars in vaudeville, radio, and TV. In real life they enjoyed
a loving marriage for almost forty years, until death took Gracie from
George.
Before she died, knowing
that her soul mate would be devastated, she wrote him a letter. Trying
to help with the grief he would feel, she ended the note this way: “Never
place a period where God has placed a comma ... Love, Gracie.”
He took her words to heart.
He felt the pain and loneliness her death caused. But it shaped him,
and he found the ability to live again. He went on to star in movies,
and kept entertaining until he passed on at the young age of 100.
[[—Dave
Shackle, “God is still speaking,” September 15, 2002, Liberation
UCC Web Site, Liberationucc.com/services/sermons.]]
When you come up for Communion
today, you are affirming that God is ALWAYS in the business of placing
commas in your life.
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