Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
And yet when we stop to look at it logically we know that nothing has changed – there is no magical fresh start just because a clock has ticked over one second from 11:59:59 to 12:00:00. We really do understand that there is no dividing line between moments and years. But …
There is something so compelling for us in the idea of a fresh start, another chance to get it right, to figure it all out, to do better this time.
Time is a human construct. It’s a protective device, a psychological wall we build to hide ourselves from the immensity of existence that is so huge, while we remain so small. We speak and act as if time moves in a straight line from the Past, through the Present, to the Future, and yet, truly, there is and has always been, and will ever be, only NOW.
The past is only a memory at best – and most times it is a flawed memory that we have edited internally to make it more palatable to ourselves. The Past can’t be touched, it can’t be changed. It is done and over. And the Future doesn’t exist either. We never will reach the Future because as soon as we reach it, it becomes NOW. All we have – all we ever will have is right now – this moment.
I like to read articles and books on physics. The problem is that I never really studied physics beyond a very basic level so I don’t really have the vocabulary to understand half of what I’m reading, but I love the way physicists’ minds work – so I read them occasionally. Julian Barbour is a British theoretical physicist and author, and he once put it this way: "If you try to get your hands on time, it's always slipping through your fingers. People are sure time is there, but they can't get hold of it. My feeling is that they can't get hold of it because it isn't there at all."
Or as my friend, songwriter Dave Hamilton puts it, “I’m losing my mind, thinking about time.”
So – today is, in the secular world at least, a day to celebrate something that isn’t even real … and yet the whole idea of a fresh start is built into our faith so deeply that it is a visceral part of who we have become.
In theological terms we call it forgiveness, we call it redemption, we call it being born again.
I’ve mentioned many times over the years that the Hebrew Scriptures part of the Bible recounts the revolving cycle of times that the Hebrew people lived in a way faithful to God’s law, then got cocky and careless, then blew it entirely and lost everything through the agency of invading nations … and then were redeemed as God forgave them and gave them one more chance. Over and over again, God gave them “one more chance.”
Last week, as my husband and I were driving home from a day in San Francisco, we were talking about our sermons for today and where we thought we would be going with them. I asked him what he thought was the driving force behind our seemingly urgent need to have “new beginning” points, such as New Year’s Eve/Day, in our culture. His response, similar to my own, was something like “We like new beginnings because we are always aware that we have gotten things so wrong so far.”
And I think that need to try to get it right lies deeply at the heart of our faith. We welcome a chance to try again, to make things better, to get it right this time, and Jesus offers us that chance. Jesus’ sojourn among us was all about convincing us that we have the right and the ability to be set free from the past, to be reborn, to start anew. Right from the beginning, Jesus quotes the prophet Isaiah to announce that he has been anointed by God to
“… bring good news to the poor.
... to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
In a commentary on the passage from Luke that I just quoted, Fred Craddock used almost the same language we began with today. He points out that after quoting Isaiah, the very first word spoken by Jesus as he began his public ministry was “Today.” Craddock then goes on to say: “Throughout Luke, ‘today’ is never allowed to become ‘yesterday’ or slip into some vague ‘someday’. In Luke, every astonishing thing Jesus announces happens ‘today’.”
Jesus’ work is always “today” -- “now.” New Year’s celebrations and anniversaries can be fun, but our faith insists that we really don’t need to wait for some magical calendar moment to start again with a clean slate. In Christ we believe that every moment is “today” – the “today” when Jesus offers us a new beginning, a clean slate, a fresh start. “Today” is the day Jesus offered the people of Nazareth a fresh start, and “today” is the day we are gathered here, right now. And the offer is the same for us as it was for the Nazarean townfolk. When we gather at the table in a moment it will be to share the same ‘now’ and the same meal Jesus shared 2000 years ago.
Love and forgiveness and new beginnings are always Now. Thanks be to God.