Community Church Sermons
February 10, 2008
The
First Sunday in Lent
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7
Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins
Listen to this Sermon!
I
was 30 years old when I bought my first house. It was a wonderful little house
tucked away in a beautiful wooded neighborhood. It had cathedral ceilings and
an open floor plan and a cute little screened-in-porch, but the best part was
that it was brand new—never-been-lived-in. I bought that house because it was
so new and clean, and I thought of it as a blank canvas, ready for me to put my
imagination to work throughout the rooms and yard. I lived in that little house
for five years, but it came time for me to move to another state so I had to
sell it. In the process of selling, I discovered that my house had been keeping
a dark secret. Everything about the
house seemed so perfect with all the new appliances and fixtures, but
underneath the house, in the damp, dark places I never saw, termites were
beginning to set up camp, eating away at the very foundation of my wonderful
little house.
The
next house I bought was in the city. It
was a cute little cottage in a neighborhood where the mailman actually walked
his route. Unlike my first house, this
house was about 50-years-old, but it had been well loved and cared for. This house wasn’t quite the blank canvas of
my previous house, but this house had character. A magnificent oak tree stood in the front yard. The eat-in kitchen had a built-in
booth. It had a sun room that I filled
with plants that thrived, overlooking a fenced-in back yard where our dog would
run and play. The perfect little
bungalow. . .or so we thought. Like my first house, this perfect little cottage
was also keeping a dark secret. When we
had to sell the house to move here, we discovered that all throughout the
house, invisible to the human eye, a terribly harmful substance called radon
lurked. Radon is the second leading
cause of lung cancer in the U.S., and my growing family was breathing the stuff
every day.
Then
at the ripe old age of 37 it was time to move to a retirement community. .
.Tellico Village. Dave Brown, our
realtor, took us around to look at all of the houses in our price range (which
took about ten minutes), and we fell in love with one in Chota Hills. We were thrilled that it had a view of the
lake at sat at the end of a cul-de-sac.
The house has big windows and a large deck and beautiful hardwood
flooring. It was about 20-year-old, but
had been given some well chosen cosmetic updates. With this house, we felt like we had arrived! But this house in prestigious Tellico
Village, just like the others, was keeping a dark secret. We’ve been in the house four months now, and
we’ve already had to replace the dishwasher and repair a toilet. Then a couple of weeks ago our heat went
out. The cosmetic updates distracted us
from caring about the aging appliances and plumbing and HVAC systems. But who
cares about that stuff if you can see the lake, right? Every home has secrets, even in Tellico
Village.
Our
scripture lesson on this first Sunday in Lent takes us back to the Garden of
Eden, humanity’s first home. It is no
surprise to me, now a seasoned home-owner, that humanity’s first home was
hiding something. Eden had a dark
secret. It doesn’t jump out at you from
the pages of the Old Testament. It’s
not in the black and white. Like
termites, it hides in the dark or perhaps like radon, Eden’s Dark Secret is all
around us, yet invisible to our human eyes.
We
think of Eden as Utopia, but Utopia, by definition, is impractical or even
imaginary. God had given Adam and Eve
freedom to enjoy the garden, yet the freedom had limits. “You can eat the fruit of any tree, except
one. The tree in the center of the
garden, you must not touch.”
It’s
an odd story, isn’t it? Imagine a parent
talking to a two-year-old saying, “Now, you can play with any toy in your
room. But I’m going to place this toy
here in the center of your room, and though you can play with any other toy,
you must not play with this toy.” When
the parent leaves the room, Eden’s Dark Secret pays that two-year-old a
visit. I’m not talking about
temptation; that’s too easy. I’m
talking about the pre-condition for temptation.
It
was everywhere Adam and Eve went within the garden; it set the stage for their
great temptation. It is with each of us
and has been since birth. I see it in
my octogenarian grandmother and I see it in my infant son. Even in the hospital immediately after his
birth I saw babies recently separated from their mothers, crying because Eden’s
Dark Secret was ever present. Nurses
offered pacifiers to the little ones, trying to calm their spirits. We adults have our own “pacifiers” we use to
combat Eden’s Dark Secret. Jesus wasn’t
immune to it. I imagine that when he
retreated to the wilderness for his forty days of fasting, Eden’s Dark Secret
was with him, setting the stage for the three temptations he faced there.
So
what is it? What is Eden’s Dark
Secret? A-N-X-I-E-T-Y.[1]
Any
English teacher will tell you that every good story has conflict. Conflict, tension, or anxiety as I’m calling
it is a key element of plot. I like to
think of every human life as a magnificent story. I have my story; you have your own, unique story. I don’t really own much in this world, and
even the things I do own can’t go with me to eternity. But my story is one thing, maybe the only
thing, which is truly mine. My story
will remain long after this body no longer contains me. The problem with my story and your story and
every story is that every good story has conflict; every good story has
anxiety. Eden was no Utopia, because inherent in the human condition is Eden’s
Dark Secret: anxiety.
Eden
was a place of freedom within limits. Reinhold Niebuhr suggests that living in
that kind of paradox makes humans anxious.
He says that “being both free and bound, both limited and limitless, is
anxious.”[2] Anxiety in and of itself is not wrong; it
can be directed toward creative endeavors or destructive ones. In the Garden of Eden and in the garden of
our lives, anxiety is simply the pre-condition for temptation, for wanting to
test our limits and imagine that we are in control.[3]
When
anxiety gets out of control, it can be crippling; psychologists have identified
a myriad of anxiety disorders and, thankfully, there are effective treatments
available. Good Christian folk should
feel no shame in getting treatment for these and other psychological and
emotional disorders. For most folks,
the anxiety inherent in our human condition can be managed; it can even be
helpful. Let me explain. A little bit of anxiety can motivate you to pay your
bills every month. A little bit of
anxiety might move you to save for retirement.
A little bit of anxious restlessness intrinsic in the retirement years
might prompt you to get out and volunteer in the hospitals or with a non-profit
or perhaps within the church. Anxiety
might provoke you to write a letter to an elected official or to take a
casserole to a friend home from the hospital.
Anxiety might even inspire you to write a poem or paint a picture.
What
will you do with Eden’s Dark Secret within you? You can choose; every single moment you can choose. Will your anxiety be the source of
destructive or creative pursuits?
Augustine knew Eden’s Dark Secret, and it prompted him
to create a prayer that Christians have uttered through the centuries, “Our
hearts are restless until they find their rest in Thee.”[4]
Thanks be to God that rest can be found! The scriptures are chock full of God’s
promises of freedom from anxiety:
In fact, one of the most oft-repeated directives in
the Bible, particularly in the Gospels, is three simple words: “Do not fear.”
Eden has a secret, but it just doesn’t matter. The perfect love of God casts out all
fear! No matter what fears or anxieties
we carry, we can place them in the arms of God and there find rest. Control is an illusion; God’s love is
real. Be still and know. Amen.
[1] Walter Bruggemann. Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, Volume 1.
[2] Reinhold Niebuhr. The Nature and Destiny of Man: A Christian Interpretation. Louisville: Westminster Charles Knox.
[3] I discovered Niebuhr’s thoughts from a sermon titled “Snake Bite” by Rev. Sheila Gustafson, pastor of First Presbyterian Church, Santa Fe, NM.
[4] Augustine. Confessions, Book 1, Chapter 1.