Central Presbyterian Church
“Building for Eternity: the Case for Triumphant Faith”
Rev. Thomas Boone, February 11, 2007
Job 1:6-22; Hebrews 11:13-18, 23-26, 29-34

Inspired by the work of creation, John Saxe, a 19^th century lawyer by trade and poet by passion, wrote, “’Tis wise to learn; ‘tis God-like to create.” I imagine that he wrote this because he had observed that people love to create. When we strive to build, whether it be a career, fortune, healthy marriages, families, or strong churches, we’re experiencing that indelible fingerprint of God within us. He is a Creator, and being in His image means that we enjoy creating, also. It may take effort to build, but it’s worth all the effort to see what we build thrive.

Yet, as much as we enjoy building its equally true that what we build eventually falls down. Part of living in a fallen world is that we will experience the despair, pain, and disappointment of seeing what we build fail. Its painful to see our family members die, no matter how long we’ve had to prepare for it. It rips a gash into our physical universe when we lose everything. It can plunge a knife into our hearts when intimate relationships into which we’ve invested so much come to an end.

We are designed to build. And what we build will come a’tumblin’ down. These principles stand unalterably opposed to each other and our lives move from one to the other, sometimes with great uncertainty. Part of living means facing life’s uncertain outcomes. Yet, it’s precisely this aspect of life that keeps us coming to God because it’s in the dire moments of uncertainty that we have no one else but God upon Whom to lean. Part of what makes us strong in faith is that we survive the times when our comfort is ripped from us and we emerge as champions. Do you want to be a champion? Then you must pay the dues of becoming one. Based on this spiritual truth Kent Keith wrote one of his ten paradoxical commandments, which is what started me thinking about what to say today. Keith writes, “What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.”

One look at the case of Job and we see this principle crystal clear. Job’s story begins behind the scenes of our realm like some tale you’d read from Greek mythology. God, as the Lord of the heavenly court, is holding audience, and of all the characters in the universe in walks Satan. He’s not some depersonified force called Evil. He’s simply one of the host who’s able to appear before God, but not only is he able have an audience with God he’s able to offer God a challenge. From all his wanderings upon earth Satan identifies the one man of whom it’s said, “God has made him one of the untouchables.” Everything that he has built is rock solid. He has the Midas touch.

To know Job was to know someone who had it all together, and held similar expectations of those near to him. As Lyndon Johnson is purported to have said, “The noblest search is the search for excellence.” To find Job, even if he were cleaning the mud from the hooves of his sheep, was to have met the quintessential example of nobility.

So, when Job’s tower teetered, then swayed, and finally collapsed with a report that echoed through the universe everyone around him would have understood most of what could have been his reactions. Certainly he could be forgiven had he momentarily fled to substances that could anesthetize his pain. Certainly a long solitude would have been in order and granted. This being such a sharp blow to his constructed universe anyone would have understood even rebellion against God, an immediate quarrel with the One Who had for no apparent reason allowed so much tragedy into Job’s midst. Listen to some of the things his friends said to him in the chapters following the great crash in Job’s life. “Is not your wickedness great?” said one, as if it were some great sin in Job’s life that laid him low. “You are doing away with the fear of God, and hindering meditation before Him,” said another, as if Job had somehow drifted apart from God into mediocrity because of his wealth.

It’s completely human to look for reasons when what we build is destroyed. But, God’s response to all those in this story who sought for reasons why God would allow such tragedy to occur, and who had assumed much in their answers, is striking. “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone where the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy? Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place? Where is the way to the dwelling of light, and where is the place of darkness? Surely you know, for you were born then, and the number of your days is great!” With great irony, God puts everyone in their place. Who are we to presume to know the ways of an unknowable God in Whose hands are the keys of our life, death, glory, and future?

There is great humility in being the creation rather than the Creator. As creatures we’re going to witness the demise of those things that we build. Our children will disappoint us, and some will even die before their time: be good parents anyway. Our careers will let us down and we may even get fired or downsized: work with excellence anyway. What we take years to rebuild in a person’s life may very well be stricken down by a drug dealer’s gun: do the tough work of rehabilitation anyway.

Building despite the reality that what we build can be destroyed overnight is to follow Jesus in his footsteps. Christ knew that his disciples would run away at the end of his life for fear that they, too, might be crucified. Only John appeared at the foot of the cross, but it was too late to defend Jesus from the scourge. But, Jesus befriended and taught them anyway, because without them the great ends of the church would not have been given voice. Christ knew that people were misunderstanding his miracles as signs that he was a nationalistic messiah. He knew when he would tell them what he was really all about that they would reject him and try to find another. But, he healed them anyway because His love for them saw no other choice. Christ knew that in the countryside of Galilee he was hailed with honor and that in Jerusalem he would be hailed by spit and insults. But, he went to Jerusalem anyway because His obedience to God was a greater passion than the love of his own life. He knew that the building was about to come down, but he kept on building because despite what the world would do to him nothing was going to take away His love for the world.

Building despite the strong possibility that what we build may let us down is to follow the numerous examples cited in our reading from Hebrews. Great men and women of faith who heard God’s voice, obeyed in faith, and became triumphant examples for us to follow did not see their success come easily. Moses let God down and wasn’t allowed to enter the Promised Land. Israel may have brought Jericho’s walls down by foolhardy obedience, but they eventually knew the pain of exile. Each of us has an imperfect faith and have much to learn on this side of heaven. Even perfect faith wouldn’t guarantee redemption from the world’s pain and other growth opportunities that come our way. But we build anyway, because we’re children of the Most High God.

“What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway.” The truth behind our relationship to God is not told in the glory of what we build, but in the way we lean on Him while building and the way we depend on Him when destruction hits. Why? First, being the image of a God who Himself creates commends us to build. Whatever it is that you’re building, if it’s to God’s glory, then you’re being the image of God. Second, a faith that remains strong in the face of calamity is true faith. It’s the faith that our Lord Himself exhibited. It’s easy to believe when things are easy, it’s a completely different story to keep believing when what we’ve built comes tumbling down around us.

Hear the word of the Lord today and live it for the remainder of your lives. God has better plans for you than you have for yourself, so despite the odds keep building. These words that a wise man told me at a critical point in my life, I share now with you. If what you’re building is for God’s glory, keep building. You know best how to apply this gospel to your lives so I encourage you to do it, not matter what stage of life you are in right now. What I feel most pressing to do, instead, is to say to you as a congregation that “God has better plans for you than you have for yourselves as members of Central Presbyterian Church.” The reality of your situation can be spun many ways, and I certainly don’t know everything that there is to know. I know that there must be some sadness and confusion now though. Sadness because you have a facility that reminds you that once you were a larger and stronger church, but right now you live in its shadow. Confusion because you’re at an uncertain crossroads as you wait for what’s next. Maybe you struggle with building because there’s not enough money, people, talent, or leadership to lead. Maybe you struggle with feeling positive about yourselves as a church, or unsure about any clear vision to guide you into the future. Moving forward may seem like a stroll in knee-deep mud right now. I say this only because it’s important to be honest as a community about where you’re at, but then get back to the basics of being church: prayer, fellowship, worship, and study. Do you still want to be champions as a church community who took stock, prayed hard, and turned it around? I hope so, because you are God’s triumphant children who bear God’s indelible fingerprint, and what you have is too precious to allow to fall. So I encourage you, as session and members together, to get on with the business of building. God has placed this task into the hands of champions who may have a lot to forgive of each other, but champions nonetheless. Hallelujah. Amen.