Creekside Church Sermon of June 2, 2002 "Sabbath Trust" Exodus 10:8-11	Rev. David Bibbee
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I make it a point every year or so to pull a book from the shelf titled, Uh-Oh. It's a volume of observations about life from Robert Fulghum. I crack the cover and go to the story about a friend of Fulghum's named Grady. I read it because it makes me laugh, but I also read it because it tells me about me…and you, too.

Grady was an intelligent man. He had diplomas from several up-scale colleges. Fulghum said, "Being intelligent doesn't mean you aren't stupid." Grady had a good income, but it was his outgo that got him into trouble. He lived "temporarily" in a crummy apartment for seven years. He hated the place. He hated going home at night. His friends didn't like going to Grady's, unless they wanted to get depressed.

The apartment walls were gray. So were the carpet, and the drapes, and the furniture. He thought a couple gallons of yellow paint would brighten up the place, but he started thinking… . If he painted the walls, the furniture wouldn't look good. He would have to buy new furniture, and that meant shopping, but he didn't have time to shop, and interior decorators were too trendy, and besides, if he was buying new furniture he should move to a better apartment.

But the apartment he wanted would be too expensive. He'd have to sign a lease, change his phone number, and get his stationery reprinted. If he was going to all that trouble and expense, he might as well buy a house. Real estate was going up, so it wasn't wise to wait till he had the money. But buying real estate took so much time and he would have to deal with those real estate agents and banks.

What if he fell in love and she didn't like the house, or wanted kids and there he would be owning a house in a neighborhood where the schools weren't any good. He would have to get the kids into an expensive private school. With all this he would need a therapist, and you know how expensive they are. The way Grady figured, two gallons of paint would cost him at least a half a million dollars!

Fulgham said to his friend, "You're right, Grady. It's a risk. When the sun starts to die and gets so hot it turns the earth's surface to boiling rock, your new home will burn down. All that time and trouble will go to waste, the insurance money and deposit money on the non-existent children's non-existent private school will go down the drain. In between will be carpenter ants, inflation, depression, famine, floods, earthquakes, mold, athlete's foot, and entropy. Painting the living room could lead to the end of the world."

Fulgham continued, "Grady, you should turn yourself in to the Humane Society, and if nobody claims you in a couple of weeks, they will put you to sleep. It's the only way out because you are too dumb to live." Grady lived in multiple time frames at the same time. He tried to live today and tomorrow and next week and next year and the next decade and the next century all at once. "Grady," Fulghum said, "buy yourself a cemetery plot now, dig a hole in it and pitch a tent over it, and move in. Save all the hassle in between."

Last Sunday we examined the fourth commandment, "Remember the Sabbath. Keep it holy. Six days you shall do your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord. In it you shall not do any work." Genesis tells us God was living this commandment when He rested from his work of creation on the seventh day. Because God created us and loves us, God wants what is best for us, which means rest for us, for our sake and for the sake of the relationship with God for which we all were created.

I also mentioned something without which resting our bodies and souls is not possible. I said you would have to wait until today to know what it is. Before there can be real rest and spiritual renewal, there must be trust. Before we get the hang of Sabbath rest; before we drain the strain from our work and our weighty concerns; before we can quiet ourselves and relax in order to hear the voice of the Lord, there must be trust.

Trust is tough to come by these days. We have lost trust in government and the elected officials who run it. Institutions no longer engender the public trust. Confidence in the Catholic Church has taken a direct hit recently with a wave of accusations about sexual indiscretion by priests. Scandals no longer shock us. We're shocked if a public figure doesn't have a skeleton in the closet. Walter Cronkite was once considered the most trusted man in America, but he's been off the air since the late '70s. Trust is in scant supply.

But the trust I am thinking about is more fundamental. "Do you believe God is in control…not just in control of the religious realm, but the realm of all there is? Do you trust God to give you not only daily bread, but the bread of eternal life? Do you believe God has the whole world in his hands, or that God has lost his grip on the blue and green ball? Do you trust that God is present to us…not just right now, but that God alone will stand when the smoke of history's final battle clears?"

You may be wondering what trust has to do with preserving the Sabbath. What has trust got to do with taking time out and setting work aside to catch our breath and play and worship and do nothing for the sake of doing it? Everything. Taking time out to do these things reminds us that God is at the helm.

Years ago I got a newsletter from a little church. It wasn't in the running for the church newsletter Pulitzer Prize. Layout was awful. It was hard to read. The print was fuzzy from being produced on an ancient mimeograph machine. But in that 8-1/2-by-11 folded-sheet-of-paper newsletter, I saw a quote that has come to mind hundreds of times since then. "For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe." How are we to replenish ourselves if we are busy keeping the stars and planets in their courses, keeping an eye on every person on the planet, and managing world affairs to boot?

The opposite of trust is not mistrust. It's anxiety. We become anxious when it dawns on us that our time is limited. We don't dare stop for a moment. We must keep going places, and doing things, and making things, and being constructive. We have got to hold up our corner.

Have you ever felt guilty because you weren't working? There are unbiblical ideas with deep roots. One message I absorbed was that a person's worth is measured by what they produce by the sweat of their brow. In order to be somebody you must earn your keep. It is easy to forget that we are not what we do. God doesn't see us and say, "Bill and Jan, the teachers. Walt, the underwriter. There's Jim, the fireman. There's Laurie, the high school junior." No…God says, "There are Bill, Jan, Walt, Jim and Laurie…my beloved children."

When we take leisure time, an unsettling feeling often comes over us. We thought our lives amounted to something because of what we accomplished. We thought we were adequate when we succeeded or at least did an honest day's work for an honest wage. We forgot that our worth was intact before we ever "did" anything. God loves us. Trusting God is so hard because anxiety is so easy. Like Grady, we try to live in different times all at once, working so hard because we think we are responsible for now and the future.

In an issue of a spiritual life journal called Weavings, the editor spoke of a conversation he had with a pastor. The pastor said he did not have time to rest and nurture his spiritual life because of the demands and responsibilities of his ministry. He served a supportive church, but his life was severely constricted by anxiety. He was asked what he wanted in his spiritual life. Without hesitation he said, "Trust…trust that God is who God is supposed to be."

For the life of me I can't recall speaking to the editor, but that's me! During the sabbatical which you have so graciously granted me, one of my goals will be to remember that I am not God. I work for God. I want to learn to leave the big stuff to God, trusting God to do his part while I rest awhile without guilt that I am letting God and the church down. I will listen to Jesus, who, in the strain and stress of His ministry, called the disciples and retreated to secluded, quiet places to get away and rest. I will listen again to Jesus!

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life. Look at the birds of the air. They neither sow nor reap, yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Who, by being anxious can add a little time to his life? Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Today's trouble is enough for today.

Let not your hearts be troubled. Fear not, for I have overcome the world.

I don't want to imply that trust is a constant, or that you either trust God or you don't. Having trust doesn't mean you will never be anxious. As Emily Dickinson said, "We trust God and don't trust God a hundred times an hour." Wasting time with God is the place to start. Practice setting aside the important things on your plate, and try doing the essential things. Protect time to pray and play. Relax, read, fish, play golf, play tennis, bird watch, garden, nap, cross-stitch, watch sunsets, lie in the back yard at night and look at the stars. Ponder. Don't panic about not getting everything done. You will never get everything done. Quit trying to control you. Quit trying to control others. Quit trying to control life.

Quit behaving like Grady. Resign as general manager of the universe. Take today. Trust tomorrow. God is in control, despite evidences to the contrary. Remember the words of St. Paul: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice. The Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety about anything." (Phil. 4:ff.)

These words with which I close you have heard me recite before. They came from the pen of John Henry Newman over 100 years ago.

"God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have a mission. I may never know what it is in this life, but I will be told it in the next. Therefore, I will trust Him. Whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him. In perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate. He may make my spirit sink, hide my future from me - - still He knows what He is about. Therefore, I will trust Him."

So take it easy, and I'll see you in September.

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