To Those Whose Time Is Running Out
January 7, 2001
Matthew 2: 1-1
It may be the post-Christmas season blues. It may be a recognition that the old year is over. It may be an awareness that my tenure is coming to a close, or it may be the realization that the years of my life span are diminishing. But, whatever the reason, I want to speak to those of us who sometimes have the feeling that time, for them, is running out.
Did you ever see the TV commercial of some years ago? it had a man at a desk, picking up a phone and saying, “Buffalo on Monday. I can do that.” It rings again. “Dallas on Tuesday I can do that.” And again it rings, “Cleveland on Wednesday. I can do that.” Then he looks despairingly at the camera and says, “I can’t do that.” I forgot what they were selling, but there is something universal in this picture. When we stop and take a hard look at our lives, when we begin to plan for the future, make resolutions, set goals for ourselves, more often than not, we find ourselves lamenting, “I can’t do that. It doesn’t fit with my calendar.” And then we often wake up to the fact that we can’t do it by saying to ourselves, “Oh, my God, I’ve run out of time.”
The Gospel this morning, at first glance, is a story about three persons who follow a star. But there is a fourth person in the drama, and I want to introduce you to him. I don’t want you to see him as a villain. It’s too easy to demonize Herod. Particularly if we have read ahead in the Biblical account. Instead, this morning, I want you to encounter Herod as an overworked administrator, a bureaucrat doing the best he can, within the Roman system.
Suddenly, into his life marches three strangers. Three searchers appear on his doorstep and announce they are following a star, which is another way of saying they are pursuing a vision, looking for God. Now Herod could have told them to get lost, but instead, he extended the hospitality of the house. He gives the three magicians, astronomers, wanderers, a place to sleep, and some food, and even grants them an audience. The three tell Herod they are following a star, which will lead them to the Messiah.
Do you recall Herod’s response? it went something like this, “I’d like to go with you, but I’m tied up right at the moment. Let me know if you find what you’re hunting for.”
It’s not that Herod is particularly evil. It’s just that he feels he doesn’t have the time. He’s either too harried, too unimaginative, too locked into his schedule, to make room for something new. “If you and the one for whom you search,” he says, “be sure and let me know. Maybe I can fit the Messiah in between 5 and 6. I’m really overbooked this week.”
Herod is like a lot of people we know. He wants to do certain things, yet he doesn’t have a moment to spare. He wants the abridged version, so that he can work it all in – within the time allowed. He wants a relationship, but only if it can be on Wednesday at 4:00. And the tragedy is that time runs out, and he never does get to see the baby. And he ends up a frightened, anxious, angry ruler.
Have you ever defined yourself as a person who has run out of time? Have you ever become aware, sometimes painfully aware, that you’ve left a lot undone? That your time and energy level are pretty well spent, and that many things will never happen, many dreams will remain unfulfilled? if you have, this Gospel is for you. Three frivolous wanderers make it. One hard-working bureaucrat is left out in the cold. The Herods of this world run out of time.
Down at the soul level, this story is hard to accept. It’s hard to accept that we often run out of time, that the parade has passed us by, that we missed the opportunity of a lifetime, that the chance to establish relationships has come and gone. And yet, we’ve all been there. It’s part of living and part of dying. As a Spanish writer once wrote when facing a friend’s death, “It all comes down to one thing, we’ve run out of time,” run out of time to say and do all the things we wish we had done. We’ve run out of time to love, to risk, and to do something significant.
I suppose that’s why the church focuses so much time teaching about death. It’s not that it wants to be morbid. It’s just that we need to be reminded that the priorities we make for ourselves are important. It’s a paradox, isn’t it? By focusing on dying, we hope to learn to live better lives.
“Teach us to know the number of our days,” Psalm 90 says. “That we may apply our hearts to wisdom.” in other words; remember that you will die, time will run out. So live, live now in the moment. Make each second count. Experience the wonder and joy of taking the world in your arms, and learning to listen with your heart.
The secret here is that time is not our problem. We can’t make time, and time, or buy time. For time is a gift, a gift from God. All we can do is use the time we have left by relishing our relationships, loving to the fullest, and embracing each moment. That is the wisdom of the heart.
You’ve heard it said that no one on his or her deathbed wishes he had worked harder. They regret instead not taking the time to do the things that matter, searching for God, being with friends and family, and cherishing each moment.
So, to those of you who are bothered by the feeling that time is
running out, let me lift a burden from your shoulders. The truth of the matter is that it is God’s time and not your own. You can’t really control
n time, for it is not yours to control; all you can do is to make each moment
count,
I notice that my time in the pulpit is almost finished. Let me leave you with some words that I read many months ago. I was feeling depressed about ending at St. Philip’s, and happened to see these words from a poem called “When Death Comes.” I wonder if Herod had heard these words, would things have been different? Here’s a part of the poem.
When it’s over, I want to say
All my life
I was a bride, married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
If I have made of my life something
Particular and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of arguments.
I don’t want to end up simply
Having visited this world.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts always be acceptable O Lord of time and eternity, Amen.
+ Mary Oliver