“. . . a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”  – Luke 12:15 

All of us I suppose dream of one day attaining financial security, a time when not only are we worry-free about the necessities of life, but able to accumulate a few luxuries we’ve always longed for.  And our consumer-crazed society reinforces such thinking, convincing us that if we buy more, we will be happier, more fulfilled, and more comfortable.  Great, as long as it inspires us toward excellence in our chosen endeavors.  But we must beware of the hazards that can occur in becoming too cozy with success.

Jesus addressed this matter in his parable about a rich man who after producing a good crop decided to tear down his barns and build bigger ones to store his grain and goods, after which he could take life easy – eat, drink and be merry.  But Jesus warned the rich man, “You fool!  This very night your life will be demanded from you.”  (Luke 12:20)

As a young man the great American playwright Tennessee Williams struggled to make ends meet – as many of us have – taking on such menial jobs as a laborer in a shoe factory, and caretaker of a chicken ranch.  But being a man of great talent and ambition, he dreamed that his literary endeavors would one day bring about success.

So it was that in the winter of 1943-44 Tennessee Williams’ luck changed upon receiving rave reviews for his play “The Glass Menagerie” which premiered in Chicago, and soon made its way to Broadway.  That’s when, in his words, “I was snatched out of virtual oblivion and thrust into sudden prominence, and from the precarious tenancy of furnished rooms about the country I was removed to a suite in a first-class Manhattan hotel,” a quote from an essay written by Williams three years later and published in the New York Times.  The title of the essay?  “The Catastrophe of Success”, a tragic commentary about the potential hazards of fame and fortune, which he himself had encountered.  “Security is a kind of death . . .” Williams had come to realize.

Tennessee Williams’ essay and Jesus’ parable are not inconsistent in their message it seems, that is that the hazard of becoming too cozy with security is a kind of death.  The solution, though, according to Williams is that “purity of heart is the one success worth having.”  Otherwise, “. . . a man’s life does not consist in his abundance.”

“Now I know only in part; then I will know fully . . .”  – 1 Corinthians 13:12 

We had to buy a new TV recently after one of ours went k-put.  No big deal, I thought, knowing that they can be purchased at almost any discount or big-box store at a reasonable price, including upgraded features from our old one, or “smart TVs” as they’re called.  All I would need to do is take it home and plug it into the cable box and the electrical outlet, then – voilà – we would be back in business.  Hardly!  As I quickly learned, a “smart TV” does not mean the TV is smart.  What it really means is that in order to hook it up and operate it, one must BE smart.  Clearly, I’m not!

Let’s face it, technology has become as essential to our lives as food, shelter, and transportation.  And few of us, I suspect, would dispute the tremendous advancements and efficiencies it has provided in today’s world.  Yet, except for the professionals in the technology field, the rest of us tend to fall into one of two categories: those perpetually frustrated trying to adapt, and those who enjoy and embrace the challenge.  While the former, though they would agree it is necessary, find it painfully intimidating, the latter view it as exciting, challenging, and filled with possibilities.

So, in defense of my intellect I would prefer instead to be identified in the “frustrated trying to adapt” group as opposed to simply not being smart.  And just because technology is not my greatest strength does not mean I don’t admire those for whom it is, and not just because they are technically savvy.  I also appreciate that, unlike me who just wants someone to show me what to do, the second group represents a spirit of adventure, a willingness to explore and experiment, to be curious and ask questions.

What a great metaphor the complexities of technology are for the complexities of life, in that there are so many things about which we do not know all the answers.  Thus, there is much to be learned from that second group, those who find technology – and life – exciting, challenging, and filled with possibilities.  For, it is not always the smartest person in the room, the one who seems to know all the answers, who is the wisest; rather it is the curious one, the person who asks the most questions.  They approach life as it really is, “Now I know only in part; then I will know fully.” 

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up . . .”  – 1 Thessalonians 5:11 

As we near the end of a long race, aching legs, burning throat, our bodies crying out for us to stop, this is when friends and fans are most valuable.  It is their encouragement that helps us push through the pain to the finish line.  A word of encouragement at just the right moment often means the difference between finishing well and collapsing along the way.

Such an instance happened to me once, except I had already crossed the finish line before collapsing face down in the dirt – sobbing.  At the age of fourteen I had spent several weeks attending a sports camp where I had worked hard getting myself in top physical condition and honing my athletic skills before entering the first year of high school.  But just before the closing events of camp my dad was injured in a freak accident at work and because he was laid up my parents were unable to attend.  I was heartbroken, wanting so badly for them to be there and see all I had accomplished that summer.  At the final track meet I was competing in a 440-yard race, and their absence made me more determined than ever to win, even though I really wasn’t very fast.

As soon as the starting gun cracked, I popped out of the blocks with all the strength I could muster.  My main competitor and I immediately took the lead, shoulder to shoulder the entire way around the track, that is until he managed to overtake me by half a stride just at the finish line where I collapsed into the dirt, crushed from exhaustion and defeat.  Suddenly a man appeared from the crowd, a family friend, and lifted my sweaty, filthy, tearful body off the ground.  Wrapping his arms around me, he comforted me with these encouraging words, “I watched you run that race.  I never saw anyone with such desire to win.  You’re a competitor.  You’re SOMEBODY!  Don’t ever forget that.”  And I never have – ever!  It was just the word of encouragement I needed, at just the right moment.

Many years passed, then one day I realized I should write that gentleman to express how much that moment had meant to me.  A few days later he called to thank me for my kind letter.  Not long afterwards he passed away.  But I’ve always hoped my letter might have encouraged him as he approached his own finish line, just he had encouraged me; for should we not “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up . . .”? 

“I will pour out my Spirit on all people.  Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.”  – Joel 2:28 

Among the volumes of influential writings and scores of eloquent speeches and sermons by the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., none perhaps is more memorable nor more often quoted than his famous “I Have a Dream” speech, as it is now referred to, given on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in August of 1963.  Some scholars argue it may have been the greatest speech of the twentieth century; for it was in that passionate address that Dr. King beautifully summarized his own life’s mission and purpose, and the meaning behind his many courageous acts, brilliant writings and inspiring speeches – his dream.

Like Moses, though, who never made it to the promise land, Dr. King’s own life was tragically cut short before he could experience the fulfillment of his dream.  But even if he were still alive today would he have seen his mission completed?  The answer, of course, is no.  While much progress has been made – and hopefully Dr. King would be pleased about that – we are still far from the peaceful, civil, racially unbiased society of his dream.  His was a big dream, though, a massive one, and big dreams take years, indeed generations to fulfill.

Dr. King dreamed of a society where people are judged “not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character”, and Moses dreamed of leading his people into the long-awaited promise land, a land flowing with milk and honey.  But don’t we dream the same dreams they did, though perhaps in a lesser context, dreams of a future for our children whereby they have an opportunity to live safe, healthy and prosperous lives?

I have often felt bad for Moses and Dr. King, who dedicated their lives in pursuit of their dreams, faithful to the missions for which they had been called by God.  It seemed unfair they did not live to see them into fruition.  But maybe they knew that, that their dreams were too massive, and life inherently too short to see them through to the end.  Perhaps it was not their jobs to see them through, but to inspire the future generations.  Maybe that’s what we’re all called to do in our own time.  It is why we honor Dr. King on this day; for as the prophet Joel proclaimed centuries ago, “Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.”  

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders . . .”  – Hebrews 12:1 

Do you ever think about the fact that everything we do someone is watching?  Kind of scary, isn’t it?  In case you don’t believe that’s true, think about how often you notice other people and the seemingly insignificant things about them, whether they are rude, pleasant, or simply ignore the wait person in a restaurant, pick up a piece of debris in a parking lot or throw one out, if they have a smile or a frown, neatly dressed or sloppy, appear happy or out of sorts.  People are noticing our behaviors the same way we are noticing theirs.  But does it matter really?

We do a great deal of our shopping at a nearby Kroger supermarket, and grocery stores are great places to observe human behavior.  And at this particular store there is an employee whose name is Rockie.  Rockie serves a lot of different functions in the store, but most often works as a checker, and when we shop there we will go out of our way to be checked out by Rockie, even if hers is the longest line, which it normally is.  Not only is she efficient at her job, but she has this amazingly infectious personality – a great sense of humor, calls you sweetheart, thanks you for your business and sends you on your way with a warm “God bless you”.  But does it really matter?  It does to us.  Tee will inevitably walk in the house after shopping at Kroger with a huge smile that literally lights up our household, and I always know why.  “Rockie checked me out!” she’ll say.

Having grandchildren has made me increasingly conscious that they are observing everything I do and, depending on my particular behavior in the moment, will have either a positive or negative impact on their lives.  Like it or not they are witnessing adult behavior, my behavior, and it is up to me how that will impact them.  But it is also up to me how I treat Rockie when I’m in Kroger, or a fellow customer in the store, another motorist on the freeway, a colleague, employee, or my neighbor down the street.

Everything we do someone is watching; for each of us is surrounded by a cloud of witnesses who is impacted by what we do – positively or negatively.  “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders . . .” our opportunity to touch a life, or like Rockie, to light up someone’s household.