EDITOR'S NOTE: In October 2017 I began a new venture as a synodically authorized minister at Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. The ride over the past 2.5 years has been an amazing journey of learning, growing and the deepening of my theological mind. This sermon originally took place on March 25, 2019.
By a show of hands, who here has a problem with being patient? … Just raise ‘em on up there.
Go ahead. … It’s OK, I think it’s safe to say that you are not alone.
But today’s gospel, through Jesus’ parable about the patient gardener, reminds us all that while we may not be very good at practicing patience, thankfully for all of us God is.
I was reminded of this on Friday afternoon as I stood in front of a television camera at West Acres Bowl, doing an interview during a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters.
As many of you know, I have worked with Big Brothers Big Sisters for several years now. ... And it is a cause, about which I am very passionate.
If you are unfamiliar with the work that Big Brothers Big Sisters does, we take willing adults -- or “Bigs” -- and match them with “Littles” who need a caring adult in their life. … On the surface, it’s a mentorship program … but to me it’s so much more than that.
To me, it’s a liferaft program for kids that have too few caring adults in their life. ... A program that defends a child’s potential. … In fact, that is the program’s new slogan, adopted in 2018: “Be a defender of potential.”
We’ve chosen that slogan because by paring caring adults with kids who need them, we hope to defend the potential adult life ahead of those children who are on the ropes.
Defender of potential. … I kind of like that. Don’t you? … Kind of reminds me of someone else whom we are all familiar. … Kind of reminds me of a patient gardener …
So, anyway, I’m standing there, and the big ol’ television camera is staring me in the face. The bright light is blinding me, and the reporter says: “Tell us what’s important about this fundraiser and more importantly about Big Brothers Big Sisters.”
And in the way only God can make it happen, a film real materializes in my imagination, and my entire life flashed before my eyes.
I’ve shared a lot of my personal story with you all. But not all of it of course. … Because, frankly, there was a period for much of life, during which if you had known me, the very idea of me standing up here today would have been ludicrous.
You see, I was one of those lost and troubled kids that I’m so desperately interested in trying to help now through my service to Big Brothers Big Sisters.
I was a boy born into poverty, a broken home and then the father whom I didn’t see much of anyway, died when I was 11. … My mom, God bless her, did the best she could raising the last of us kids on her own. … But you know what? She was tired, and me being child No. 9 meant there was a lot of freedom given to me early in life.
And I can tell you, that entering my teens with no dad in the picture, a mom who was just plum worn out, and surrounded by other children who lived in similar circumstances, you can about imagine how fast I grew up. … And grew up in all of the wrong ways, of course.
I was a bit of a terror, and to this day, I think I still owe my mother an apology for all of those sleepless nights. … Maybe some of you in here today know that feeling too!
I share this with you not to brag, of course. … Or for repentance. I took care of that long
But, I share this with you, because as I stood there in the bright light of that TV camera, pondering the statement by the reporter: “Tell us what’s important about this fundraiser and more importantly about Big Brothers Big Sisters” -- my childhood and teens and early adult life flashed before my eyes, and I thought what a tremendous gift it is that we have a loving and caring God, who is a patient gardener. … Maybe a very patient gardener in my case.
I know for certain that there were some metaphorical landowners in my early days that had written me off. … “So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’”
I know there were teachers who wrote me off as the kids from the other side of tracks. … Other community leaders who looked at me and thought, “Oh, that’s just another one of those wild Brooks boys.” … In fact, even our family’s home church when I was growing up, essentially gave up on me.
But even while those “landowners” had made the decision to plow me under and replant something that had a better opportunity to bear fruit, there was a very patient gardener that was waiting to tend to me. … “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”
Well, luckily for me, we all have one awesomely protective and knowledgeable gardener.
Because at midlife I can now look back and see those times, those people … that metaphorical manure that God spread around me in my life to help me grow.
In my elementary and middle school years, that manure often turned out to be a teacher. Just one teacher who was willing to go the extra mile for me. Extend a caring hand when I didn’t see one anywhere else.
And in high school, that manure most often came in the form of athletic coaches: Coach Oistad. ... Coach Braun. … Coach Thorson. … Men, who in a lot of ways took the place of my deceased father.
In college, there was a deeply caring man by the name of Jerry Winans, who worked in the financial aid office at Bemidji State, and who through what I can only describe as divine providence, established a friendship with me and served as a mentor during all of my college years.
Finally, as a young man, there was a man named Kelly Boldan, who would become only my second supervisor in my young career. He was my editor at my first daily newspaper in Bemidji. And the relationship we built 20-plus years ago still bears fruit today, as he is the first person I often go to for life advice, and who was the first to stand up and cheer my decision to enter seminary.
Manure. … Life-giving manure. … I know this is a topic that more than a few of you sitting here in these pews knows about.
But imagine that! … Just imagine what our very patient … and loving … and caring gardener of a God can do with what is essentially a byproduct of life. … Because, after all, that is what manure is, right? Isn’t it just a byproduct? … Just waste?
But not in the hands of God. … We know that to be true.
So, as I wracked my brain on Friday afternoon, trying to formulate an answer to that reporter’s statement, I thought of all of this in a few split seconds’ time. … As I said, earlier. … It was an experience of which only God is capable.
I thought to myself: There was so much waste in my life. Such bad soil that I got planted in. Environmental factors that probably destined me to become a weed or something else “wasteful.” … Not enough sunshine. Not enough water. … So many factors that could have determined a different outcome for me.
But then along came my very patient gardener. … Your very patient gardener too. … And he tilled up the soil around me. Dropped in some manure here and there -- the right mentor, the right friend, an academic opportunity, etc. -- and viola, one day, in my early 40s the Holy Spirit whispered in my ear: “Now you beautiful fig tree, go bloom.”
I don’t know if you’re feeling today what I felt for so many years. … I don’t know if you think that you’re a fig tree that hasn’t borne its fruit … or borne enough fruit … or even borne the right fruit.
Or maybe it’s a loved one who is your concern this morning. ... Maybe it’s a loved one whom you’ve seen struggling. Somebody that could use their surrounding soil tilled up and a load of manure spread around them.
But, I am here to remind you that I am living proof of God’s loving and patient nature, and that sometimes his best work takes years … maybe even decades.
So, if this morning you are waiting for a divine blooming, either for yourself or a loved one, I remind you to take heart, because we are in the hands of a skilled … and loving … and very patient gardener.
And that is the Good News for this Sunday. … Amen.
Comments