Lift Me to Paradise

Good Lord, up above, can't you know I'm pinin'

Tears all in my eyes?

Send down that cloud with a silver linin'

Lift me to Paradise

Show me that river, take me across

And wash all my troubles away

Like that lucky old sun, give me nothin' to do

But roll around Heaven all day

(“That Lucky Old Sun” by Beasley Smith, and Haven Gillespie 1949)

There are days when life is more than any of us can deal with . . . where we are ready to throw the towel in before we even get started.  I had one of those days this past week.  The morning began way too early and with little sleep after our son had spent a night fighting with seizures all night . . . the alarm rang way too soon to announce the start of another day.  Then there was the usual trek to the university through the darkness of the morning with all the other sleep deprived commuters in a winter that just doesn’t want to let go.  Then I was greeted at work by an email telling me that a co-worker in Helena had been killed in an auto accident . . . and, also her son.  Then at lunch in the university cafeteria one of the international students suddenly fell . . . seizures . . . and was hauled off to the nearby hospital by ambulance.  All this and it wasn’t even half-way through the day yet!  I was ready to call it a day.  It is in those moments of being overwhelmed that we roll our eyes to heaven, lift up a prayer, and beg God to “lift us up Paradise.”

Well, here it is . . . five days later . . . and I am still here. I am no closer to ridding my life of all its frustrations, crises, hassles, depressions, mistakes, or hard work and making it to Paradise.  Yet, the prayer is still there.  Now, I know what Mother Teresa said . . . “I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle.  I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.”  And, I know that the music of the faith is filled with songs and hymns asking God to come and rescue the faithful from a world of woe . . . and, we are still here.  I guess it just feels good to complain whether it is in the words we pray or the songs we sing . . .

Good Lord, up above, can't you know I'm pinin'

Tears all in my eyes?

Send down that cloud with a silver linin'

Lift me to Paradise

Show me that river, take me across

And wash all my troubles away

Like that lucky old sun, give me nothin' to do

But roll around Heaven all day

Like Mother Teresa said, I wish God didn’t trust me so much.  I worry about my son and his battles with Epilepsy . . . it is wearing me out . . . it is wearing us out . . . and, we never seem as if we are ever winning the battle.  It is shocking to receive news about someone you know . . . in their early 40s . . . who you had just communicated with days earlier . . . is suddenly gone because of an accident.  It is scary to witness a stranger fall to the ground, bang their head on a table, and lay motionless while recovering from a seizure before the next one comes.  Pile on top of that the frustrations of work . . . the busyness of life . . . a winter that won’t let go and a spring that won’t fight . . . and, it gets to be a little overwhelming.

Then, as I was driving to the big university to work one morning this week, I heard Louis Armstrong singing That Lucky Old Sun.  Now there is something about ol’ Louie’s raspy voice that always grabs my attention and listen . . . he is one of my favorites.  There in the darkness he lamented the difficulty of life . . . the hard work to make it . . . the boringness of routine . . . trying to make relationships work.  All the while he is looking up at the sun . . . that lucky old sun that has nothing to do but roll around heaven all day.  He longs for that too . . . no worries . . . no cares . . . just to roll around heaven all day.  He pleads to God, “Lift me to Paradise.”  Kind of peculiar that I was hearing this after I threw up my own cryptic prayer of release after a hard day.  Amen, Brother Louie . . . amen!

I guess it is a pretty common prayer.

As I said, I am still here . . . still in Montana.  Guess God figures that Montana is pretty close to Paradise . . . even in the lingering winter . . . and, who am I to argue with God on that one.  I suppose Brother Louie wasn’t yanked up into Paradise when he released this song in 1949 because he was around for a long, long time after its release.  And, I suppose that the majority of those who have thrown that prayer to God didn’t get any closer to Paradise than when they prayed it.  Yeah, I know what the Bible says about asking God for anything in prayer and God will give it to us . . . but, God must have some unwritten parameters that most of us are unaware of . . . the fine print of theology that most of us do not take the time to read.  And, yeah, I know that God will not give us more than we can handle . . . but, God pushes the limits of that promise pretty close.  Maybe God shouldn’t trust us so much.  Plus I know that maybe God is teaching me a “life” or “faith” lesson . . . but I don’t think that I am that ignorant or thick-skulled that it feels like I am on a roller coaster.  So, to be honest with you, I am not going to buy into the ready-made answers of faith that we, the faithful, like to tell ourselves to ease our disappointment that we are not rolling around in heaven with no worries or cares.

Nope, I’m not going to buy it.  I am not going to buy it because I do not believe that Paradise . . . that heaven . . . that the kingdom of God . . . is some destination way up there in the clouds.  Paradise is here . . . right now.  It is wherever I experience the presence of God and God’s love and grace . . . I do not have to wait until I get to heaven to know that presence . . . to know that love and grace.  I know that this is true because I have experienced it for myself.

The co-worker I had known for several years suddenly and shockingly dying in an accident . . . there were others who spoke words of comfort . . . who offered hugs . . . who joined me in my shock.  In the struggle with my son’s Epilepsy . . . I have my wife and together we continue to support one another and our son . . . who have not given up no matter how tired or worn out we get.  With the international student . . . others join me in coming to her aid . . . others cared for her . . . others let her know that she was not alone.  In brief moments of care and support others let me know that I am not alone in this journey through life.  In those brief moments of care . . . and, I suppose love . . . I was reminded that I was not alone.  In those brief moments a crack split the veneer of reality allowing the light to break through the darkness and expose a little piece of Paradise . . . a sliver of holiness . . . the presence of God.  Because of that it is okay that I am still here . . .

There may be those who want to argue with me about the kingdom of God . . . Paradise . . . heaven . . . being here and not off in some far off place, but I am not going to argue.  I am not going to argue because I believe that God is not going to dangle a holy carrot before our faces and lure us into something as wonderful and beautiful as Paradise.  No, I believe God is going to let us have the gift now.  We just have to be open to seeing it, experiencing it, and working for it right now.  Sometimes we are just too busy, sometimes we are overwhelmed with life . . . but the fact is, we have all experienced it . . . in a simple word of encouragement . . . in a smile . . . in a hug . . .

It is a beautiful world.  Though ol’ Louie was a little depressing with his song That Lucky Old Sun, he also reminded us how close we really are to Paradise when he sang What a Wonderful World.  It truly is a wonderful world . . . Paradise.

Whatever

There is a simple response that rubs me the wrong way whenever I receive it from another person—especially when it comes from my children, and that is, “Whatever.”  Things have changed in our lifetimes and one of the biggest changes has been in the words that we use . . . words do not always mean what we think they mean . . . especially in this day and age.  “Whatever” is one of those words.  Because of that, I am thankful that someone got smart and created a dictionary on the Internet for us old geezers so that we can understand the present generation when they speak to us.

In preparing for this sermon I wanted to make sure that my impressions of the word, “whatever”, were right . . . so, I looked it up in the Urban Dictionary.  The Urban Dictionary had 62 different ways in which the word was used, but . . . it basically defined the word as “indifference” and as a “up yours” and “I don’t care” sort of word.  For example, I say, “I really feel like a million bucks today”, and you respond, “Whatever!”  Or, if I say to one of my kids, “You keep making that face and it will stay like that”, and they respond, “Whatever.”    Basically it is a response of indifference . . . of, I don’t care . . . to what is said by another.

Surprisingly, the present generation is not the only generation that uses that word . . . we all do it.  And, guess what, apparently that response doesn’t carry a whole lot of weight when dealing with God.  This morning Jesus shares the parable of the rich man and Lazarus . . . a parable that might be better names, Whatever.

 Hopefully everyone knows the parable.  Lazarus is a poor beggar who ends up starving to death despite the fact that he did all of his begging outside of the house of a rich man . . . a rich man who could easily have spared some resources to help Lazarus out without even missing it.  But the rich man chooses to ignore that which is right before his eyes, and Lazarus dies . . . goes up to heaven where he is greeted by Abraham, and is given the royal treatment.

Fast and rich living catches up the rich man and he dies pretty much at the same time that Lazarus dies; but instead of zipping up to heaven and being greeted by Abraham, the rich man tumbled on down to hell.  There in hell he is tormented . . . is use to the lousy conditions . . . feels very uncomfortable in his treatment and surroundings.  He is miserable.  In his misery . . . way off in the distance . . . he can see Lazarus . . . Lazarus who looks pretty happy and comfortable up there in heaven.  He begs Abraham to send Lazarus down and provide him with a little comfort.  Abraham refuses.

 Apparently the rich man realizes that he is not going to win this argument . . . he blew it despite knowing exactly what he was supposed to do . . . Moses had told him, the prophets had told him, his religion had told him—warned him, but he chose to ignore it . . . to be indifferent to it . . . to respond, “Whatever.”  “Whatever” got him to hell.  The lesson seems to be quite apparent to him as he is roasting away in hell.  With this knowledge he begs Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers to warn them of their impending fate if they do not change.  Again, Abraham refuses.

Abraham refuses because, like the rich man, the brothers have all the information that they need.  Moses pretty much laid it out with the Ten Commandments . . . the prophets laid it out in their warnings and teachings . . . the religion pretty much spelled it out for them.  They have been told . . . they had been warned.  If they chose to be indifferent to that which has been shared . . . to spurn their noses up in the air, and respond, “Whatever” . . . then there is nothing that be done to save them of the impending discomfort of hell.  Abraham tells the rich man, “Whatever!”

Now one of the things we need to realize about the rich man—even in death—even in his place in hell—is that he never, ever says, I blew it!  He never acknowledges his indifference . . . never acknowledges that he could have made the difference in another person’s life.  Even after Abraham tells him no to his request of seeking comfort from Lazarus . . . he does not acknowledge that he blew it.  He does not take responsibility for himself . . . he basically says, “Whatever, but can we warn my brothers?”

That is a nice gesture, right?  The rich man is now thinking about someone else besides himself—right?  Not really, he is not concerned with the fact that it was his indifference that put him in hell . . . no, he is only concerned with saving the hide and hair of his brothers.  Again, the focus is quite selfish.

Abraham’s answer is, “Whatever . . . they have had their chance.”

 There is not a whole lot of grace in this parable.  Grace is free . . . but it does come with a price.  That price is in admitting one’s wrongs . . . admitting one’s own indifference . . . of taking responsibility . . . and, if a person is willing to do those things, grace is his or hers. 

How many of us, as kids, were warned by our parents to not do something because something bad could happen to us?  All of us.  The thing about this was that our parents did know what they were talking about because they had already done what they were telling us not to do.  Did any of us listen?  Nope . . . and then we came running in with a bloody nose, screaming and crying, only to hear our parents tell us, “I told you so.”

That is what the rich man encounters in Abraham . . . I told you so.  Abraham lets the rich man know that he had been warned and should have known better . . . not much grace in such a statement.

Indifference can make us blind . . . blind to the world around us . . . blind to the needs of others . . . blind to even the presence of Jesus in our midst.  Jesus had also told the parable of the sheep and goats . . . remember that parable?  The scene is heaven.  The people have been divided into two groups—the sheep and the goats.  Each group is brought before Jesus and asked when they had helped him in their lifetimes.  The sheep were welcomed into heaven with open arms; the goats, were not.

 Of course, both groups asked Jesus when they had seen him to help him.  To which he responded, when I was naked, poor, hungry, in prison . . . and, so on down the line.  The sheep had helped those who were less fortunate; the goats had done nothing.  The heavenly group rejoiced, the goats lamented and complained.  To the goats, Jesus responded, “Whatever.”

 This is not a parable about grace, this is a parable about indifference and its consequences.  Abraham lays it out plainly . . . there are no excuses when it comes to what God desires . . . God desires that you love God completely, and that you love your neighbor.  Your neighbor is all of God’s creation.  Abraham lets the rich man—and us—know that Moses shared this information, the prophets shared this information . . . and, though he does not say it, Jesus shared and lived this information.  It is pretty much common knowledge, especially for those of us who call ourselves followers of Jesus.  There are no excuses.  Being indifferent is not going to get you into heaven.

None of us can stand before the throne of God, stammering, “But, but, but . . .”  None of us can claim ignorance of what is expected of us when it comes to being faithful to God.  None of us can spurn God, turn our noses up, claiming indifference, by saying, “Whatever!”

So, here we are warned by Jesus himself . . . don’t let indifference ruin your life and put you in hell.  Open your eyes . . . see the world around you . . . see the hungry, the poor, the lost, the imprisoned, the lonely, the forgotten . . . see those who are on the outside of life . . . and, relate to them.  Help them.  Serve them.  Be unto them as Jesus has been unto you.  Don’t be indifferent.

    

That is a big task when one looks around the world in which we live . . . there are more problems than we can ever imagine . . . more than any one of us could ever solve . . . it is overwhelming.  How can any of us ever make a difference?  I don’t know, but I know we have to start where we are . . . one person at a time.  They are all around us—like Lazarus at the gate of the rich man’s home . . . just waiting.  Waiting to be invited in, cared for, and loved.  “Whatever” does not hack it in the eyes of Jesus or God . . . it beats the alternative—hell.  Amen.