Updated: Oct 16, 2020
Message for worship at West Richmond Friends Meeting, 5th of First Month, 2020
Speaker: Brian C. Young
Scripture: Ecclesiastes 3:1–13, NRSV:
1 For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
2 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3 a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
7 a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.
9 What gain have the workers from their toil? 10 I have seen the business that God has given to everyone to be busy with. 11 He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. 12 I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; 13 moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil.
14 I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has done this, so that all should stand in awe before him. 15 That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already is; and God seeks out what has gone by.
Happy New Year, Friends!
It’s good to be with all of you again, on the first First Day in 2020.
Yes, 2020. Some folks are saying it feels like something out of science fiction, that we’re living in 2020. I’ve heard others emphasize the fact that we’re finally in a decade with a name that’s easy to say—“oh, it’s so great that it’s ‘the twenties’ now—‘the aughts’ and ‘the tens’ were just so awkward...” And still others want to argue about when “the twenties” actually begin—since there wasn’t a year 0, they point out, each decade really begins on a year that ends in 1. Mathematically, they’re correct, but they’re fighting a losing battle, I think. (Eric Dimick Eastman may disagree with me about that…)
Regardless of which decade you think we’re in, another year has passed. Now, I sometimes have to remind myself that there really isn't any special significance to January 1st itself—it's just a place in the year that has been chosen as a matter of convention to start things again. In fact, it hasn't always been the point at which we observed the new year—until sometime in the 18th century, the new year in the English-speaking world began in March. This is why you sometimes have to be careful with the dates in some of the old Quaker writings—when they talk about First Month, they're not talking about January. And, of course, other cultures observe the beginning of their calendars at various other points in the year.
So even though there's nothing particularly magical about January 1st itself, this point in the calendar is always a time to stop and take stock, isn't it? To think about what has gone before, and what's to come. Of course, a lot of people make resolutions at this time of year. But you probably don't want to hear me talk about New Year's resolutions (do you?). You have probably heard your share of messages on resolutions. And here’s my secret: I'm not much good either at making resolutions, or at keeping them. For me, resolutions are so much about self-improvement, about something that I'm doing, that God isn't involved much... and I believe it's God's work in each of our hearts that is the source of lasting change.
So even though I haven’t made any resolutions, as another year begins, I can’t help but think about time. Time is something I seem to have less and less of these days, as I become more and more aware of my own limitations. It seems like the amount of effort it takes to get something done is greater, and the number of things that can be accomplished in a day or a week or a month is fewer… and so I can’t help but think about how I use my time. Lately I seem to have been working my own agenda as to how to do that, and not seeking God’s will for it. Notice I even say my time—forgetting that time doesn’t actually belong to me. Time is a resource like any other, given by God for my good—for our good—and my role is to be the best steward of it that I can.
So if I have a resolution this year, it is to be more conscious of how I am using the time that God has granted to me.
How much time am I spending…
...on the Internet, or on my smartphone?
...in prayer and meditation?
...with my wife, or with close friends?
...getting to know someone in Richmond that I don't know well—especially those of a race, ethnicity, culture, or religion different from my own?
How much time am I spending…
...studying the Bible or doing other spiritually instructive reading?
How much time am I spending…
...acquiring stuff, and in making sure that that stuff is safe and properly taken care of?
And how much time do I use worrying about how to make my time more productive?
Our Scripture this morning includes one of the best-known passages from the Bible about time: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. A time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot...” And the song that Welling played for us is probably (still) the best-known presentation of that text in our culture —it’s now more than sixty years old, but it’s hard for me to read this passage and not have that tune come to mind.
The first part of the passage, up to verse 8, is a beautiful hymn to the order of creation and time in creation. Everything has its time and its place. We have a sense of an orderly ebb and flow to human activity in the universe, and time along with it. Many of the activities are things that we can have a say in, but the first and the last, being born and dying, are not ours to decide.