So What?

No matter how hard we work to become skilled experts at some craft. No matter how hard we study or how many books we memorize to become knowledgeable about some subject . . . Doesn't it seem as if our increased abilities always point up just how much further we have to go?

Think about it. As a kid just about the time you mastered riding a two wheeler some other kid on the block started popping wheelies.

Think about it. Just about the time you finally figured out Trigonometry, you got moved into Calculus.

Think about it. You slog through four years of college, earn your B.A. And what do you discover as they hand you your degree? You really need a master's degree, or even a Ph.D., if anyone is going to recognize you as an expert in your major.

Think about it, parents. For every day we're loving, patient, funny, and totally focused on our kids, there will be a day when we feel hassled, hurried, and humorless when dealing with our children.

We can always do better. We can always do more. We're always lacking in some area, some facet of our personal and professional lives.

But we're most acutely and accurately aware of what we lack in those areas that are the most important to us . . . those parts of our lives that mean the most to us.

We're content with our backhand or resigned to our inability to parallel park because those are unimportant, peripheral parts of our lives (unless, of course, you're a tennis pro or a truck-driver).

But we feel keenly our shortcomings in our parenting skills, or cringe at our inadequacies in professional arenas. Why? Because these are facets of our existence which we have struggled to perfect; these are aspects of our lives we have worked to bring to excellence.

One of the most respected columnists in the world, Thomas L. Friedman, recently wrote in The New York Times: "You know when I really get mad? It's when my wife tells me I'm not helping around the house and I have not been helping around the house. There's nothing more enraging than someone exposing your faults and being right." ("Wanted: Fanatical Moderates," The New York Times, 16 November 2003, WK 13.)

In an end-of-the-term self evaluation, our third grader Soren wrote with more enthusiasm than spelling ability that she lacked school and lacked all the subjects she had been studying this fall. Very clearly what she liked was also what she still lacked all the learning she could get!!! Although an impromptu tutorial session now insures that Soren will never again spell the word "like" as l-a-c-k, the reality is that the traits we most like about ourselves are also the areas in which we will find the most lack in ourselves. It's a reality that will remain true throughout all our lives not just Soren's.

On this first Sunday of Advent our Scripture lesson reminds us that Paul is both overwhelmed with a sense of liking and a sense of lacking. He is thankful for the Thessalonians' continued faithfulness. Yet at the same time he is very concerned about providing that young congregation with what may still be lacking in their love and faith development.

They have love for one another. But Paul knows how much deeper that love can grow. They have "received the word of God" (2:13). But Paul knows there's so much more to tell them. They have already been encouraged to "lead a life worthy of God" (2:12). But Paul knows he must help them achieve a heart which is blameless.

We're all like the Thessalonian Christians this morning. We have started on a faith-journey. It's that very start that whets our appetite to learn more, to make up for what is lacking, to continue and complete our discipleship.

What they lack is what many of us lack but would like to have: the experience and maturity of a faith lived solely for God, a faith lived rapturously that pleases God and God alone. In fact, despite the fact that Paul apparently did successfully make a return trip to this congregation, what they truly lacked was something not even Paul himself could teach them the rapturous experience of a life lived in faith through all sorts of advents and armageddons, all sorts of peaks and pitfalls.

This may be the first Sunday of Advent on the church calendar. But for those of you who make your living in retail, this is the first of five weekends that determine whether you will end the year liking or lacking, in the black or in the red.

How many of you made the mistake of trying to run out to pick up . . . whatever knows, on this weekend (the weekend following Thanksgiving)? You can testify: we have moved into shopping madness days. Suddenly the entire population of the United States (or more accurately when you're driving on the highways, the Untied States) seems possessed with finding and purchasing something for a whole list of people.

No matter if your family is living a perfectly comfortable life, with sufficient food and shelter and clothing. At this time of year we all are looking out for what is somehow lacking in the lives of our loved ones so that we may run out to the local mega-mall and purchase it.

But as we try and make up through shopping for the physical things we lack, let's never forget that the ultimate lackings in our life are not physical but spiritual.

Maybe you lack the luster of a faith on fire, which explains your lackluster spirituality.

Maybe you lack the confidence of the promise "I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me."

Maybe you lack the hope of living God's dream for you and your family.

Maybe you lack forgiveness for some secret sin.

Maybe you lack that lovin' feeling that you used to have in your walk with God.

Maybe you lack the horsepower that high octane, super-premium fuel that propels us down the highway of life's missions. Maybe you lack...

In fact, why not compile a shopping list of spiritual lackings this Advent season. Why not commit you and your family to spending as much time attending to shoring these spiritual lackings up as you will your family's physical lackings? Instead of outfitting our lives, why not make this a time of innercizing our lives.

Remember: if we lack anything, Jesus has promised us to supply what it is we lack. In fact, all we need to do is ask and it shall be given. We already have all we need. We already have all we lack. It's our inability to receive what is already there and what God has already provided for us that causes our lacks.

There is an anonymous e-mail making the rounds. It's called "Christmas: 1st Corinthians 13 Style."

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.

Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn't envy another's home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way.

Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can't. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure.

What this world lacks the most isn't more stuff. What the world lacks the most this Advent season is more love and peace and joy.

Let's innercize our shopping lists.