The Rev. Rob Merola
For the last three weeks, we’ve been doing a sermon series on perfectionism called “Picture Perfect.” Last night Anne concluded the series with a fine sermon on the only place perfection is found: in our Lord Jesus Christ. She showed how the healthiest way to pursue life at its best is in a relationship with him. That sermon is on our website and I commend it to you.
Anne was also scheduled to preach that sermon today, but since today is my 50th birthday, she graciously asked me if I’d like to preach. I am indeed grateful for the opportunity. Thank you, Anne.
Originally I thought I might entitle this sermon “50 Years of Wisdom”, but it didn’t take me long to realize that this was rather presumptuous and that I was giving myself way too much credit. Unfortunately, if you look back on my life I’m afraid you’ll see enough foolishness and sometimes even stupidity to raise serious questions about any claim to wisdom I might have! And so, if you’ll extend me the grace, what I’d like to do this morning is simply reflect on life at 50.
Maybe the place to start is by saying that I never really expected to still be here at 50. Linda said that’s why I have her, and she is not far off the truth. As my father told her when she married me, “Linda, sometimes you are just going to have to think for Robbie.”
I grew up in a generation whose theme was “I hope I die before I get old”, and some of our best known celebrities have been people who lived lives of such excess that they did just that. You know, people like John Bonham or Keith Moon. You do know who they are, don’t you? The drummers from Led Zepplin and The Who, respectively. Over the years I have known my share of ordinary folks who followed their example.
Now I never did the drug and alcohol scene—frankly, that never particularly interested me. But I did play pretty hard, drove way too fast, took risks that were not prudent, worked long hours neglecting my health and relationships. There were no margins in my life and in fact in most areas of my life I was overextended and overdrawn. I wasn’t thinking much about consequences because we were a generation who prided ourselves on “Carpe deim”, meaning by that we lived life to its fullest today without thought of the consequences tomorrow. We disregarded the conventional wisdom to the ages—never trust anyone over 30!—and often thought rules and boundaries were for somebody other than us. We distrusted authority (many of us still do), and didn’t like anyone telling us what to do (many of us still don’t).
Looking back now, I can tell you there was a high price to be paid for this. As a relatively minor example, my joints are so badly damaged that I don’t live a moment without significant pain—and, of course, expect it will only get worse over the years. Far more seriously, there has been plenty of heart ache and sorrow, my own certainly, but far more distressingly in the lives of those who have cared about me.
In being able to see that now, I would like to think that like the Pharisees and tax collectors in today’s Gospel, like the young man in Jesus’ parable who knew just enough to change his mind, I have also begun to learn some wisdom over the years. I’d like to think that these days, I live life at least a little bit differently.
For me—again like the people in today’s Gospel-- most of that wisdom has not originated in here—in my heart, or mind, or soul. The wisdom I have found has been in here; in the pages of Holy Scripture, and in the life and teachings of Jesus Christ that it contains. That’s why I chose the opening song I did today—Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” Because at 50 I am more deeply committed to faithfully following Jesus than I have ever been.
Now I fully realize that is exactly the kind of thing you’d expect a priest to say. I want to be as clear as I can that I am not saying this as a priest. I am saying this as a human being who as of about noon today has spent half a century on this planet. I am saying this as a person who has had the unique privilege of sharing life with thousands of other people, and who has been extended the honor of walking with them in their struggles and difficulties. And I have seen over and over again the power of Jesus Christ to change lives, to heal broken hearts, to forgive and inspire forgiveness, to give strength when needed, to overcome differences that would otherwise divide. I have seen without exception the value of following ancient wisdom, and of submitting our lives to it.
But the thing is, I think there is a huge difference between knowing what is right and doing it. Like the young man in this morning’s Gospel who seems to have the best intentions but doesn’t do what he said, I still find that I get my priorities mixed up. I still have to be reminded of what is most important to me.
And so at 50, I am more convinced than ever that a life well lived doesn’t just happen. Nobody drifts into it. Nobody even lucks into it. I think we have to be extremely diligent in asking, “Am I living what I most truly believe, or is my life an illusion built on the false assurance of good intentions? Do my actions back up my words?”
There are people, for instance, who have deep and profoundly life changing experiences with God. They have every intention of making their spiritual life a priority. But they don’t. They have the best of intentions, but they don’t follow through.
There are people who have come to believe it really is far better to give than to receive, that is of the utmost importance to give back and make a priority of somehow serving others on a regular basis. But they don’t. They have best intentions, but they don’t follow through.
There are people who would tell you they love their spouse or their kids, that their family is their highest priorities. But it’s not. They have the best of intentions, but they don’t follow through.
There are plenty of people who say one thing but do something different, living their life, spending their time, using their money in such a way that it is crystal clear there is nothing more important to them than themselves.
And the truth is, every one of those scenarios and more can still describe me. And so I have come to realize that I just have to be incredibly diligent in crafting the life I believe in. Crafting a life well lived… I think it is the most important work we can do.
And perhaps the most difficult. Life slips off track so easily and subtly. It doesn’t happen all at once or in big dramatic ways, but in one little step at a time left uncorrected. Take a marriage, for instance. No one gets married intending to fall out of love.
But what happens is one day someone gets a little more interested in someone or something than their spouse. Maybe it’s their work or career. Maybe it’s a hobby. Maybe it’s a bottle of beer. Maybe it’s somebody else.
But no one stops them and says, “How are you doing at loving your spouse?” They don’t take the time or have the occasion to think about what they are doing, about what is happening. And so they take another small step in that direction, and then another until one day they wake up and say, “I’m no longer interested in staying married. There’s this other interest that has grown over the years, and that’s where my heart really is these days. I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”
What started off as small steps in a different direction becomes a whole new journey, a very different journey towards a completely different destination. And it will not be a journey of deepening love and live giving companionship, but a journey that will cause deep hurt, a sense of betrayal, anger, bitterness, and so on.
My point is that when we just get a little bit off course, it’s easy to correct. But if we don’t correct our course when it first starts to veer off track, we head further and further in the wrong direction and it gets harder and harder to come back. And one day we find ourselves far astray from the life we intended to live.
That’s why I need to pray, read the Bible, study, attend church, and so on. It gives me regular opportunities to reflect on my life and how I’m doing. It gives me the opportunity to make corrections while corrections are still possible. That’s why I need relationships with people who are not afraid to speak the truth, and with people who will hold me accountable to live up to what I believe.
I think, and I’ve seen it happen over and over again, that without such regular opportunities built into a person’s life, they will not be able to live what they most deeply believe. They will fail to craft the life well lived, and will end up devoting themselves to a path the leads to disappointment, misery and sorrow and heart ache. And friends, at 50 I can tell you with an increasing sense of urgency that I don’t want to be one of those people. I don’t want you to be either.
Well, enough about that. I could go on and on, and sometimes have. But at 50, I’d like to think that I’ve learned that sometimes less is more, and so it’s getting to be time for me to quit. So here is the final thing I want to say.
In celebration of my birthday, Linda and I took a trip together up to Lake Erie. I, of course, went steelhead fishing. I was with my wife whom I love and whom I know loves me. I was in a beautiful place in a beautiful world. I was fishing with a good friend. I was doing something I enjoy. I was catching a lot of fish and in fact caught the biggest steelhead I have ever caught so far—11 pounds 2 ounces.
When I fish, I usually fish all day long—and that day might start at 3AM in the morning and go to the next night. But in the early afternoon, I was so completely satisfied I said to the guy I was with, “Let’s quit. I could do so more catching, but there is nothing that will make the fishing any better. I’m just going to sit back and savor.”
That’s how I feel about life. Because of the grace of God and the love and support of good people, the quality of my life has come to be such that if I died tomorrow, I would die feeling well satisfied and completely blessed. Of course I’d like to live longer, see my kids graduate and what they make of their lives and so on. I think we still have important work to do here—perhaps our most important work yet.
But at this point, the quality of my life is such that there is nothing that really needs to be added; the quality of my life will not be improved by extending the quantity of my days. I still plan on working hard, but I also don’t have to push everything to limit. I have more than I need; I’m no longer in accumulate mode. Now I want to do a better and better job of giving more and more of myself, my time, and my possessions away. That’s what this half of my life is going to be about.
And like that day on the stream, I am going to spend more time simply savoring and being grateful. Grateful to God. Grateful to my wife, my kids, my parents, my brother, my family and friends. Grateful to you, for this opportunity to serve here with you. Grateful to be a part of the great thing that God is doing here.
I want to say how very much I love each and every one of you. For me, life at 50 is a sweet, sweet time, and I look forward to savoring our time together in the years to come.
Amen.