Today we’re beginning a series of sermons on coping - coping as a Christian. To cope is to “contend or struggle successfully.”
Now I had some hesitancy about the use of the word cope in the title of this series. A lot of people are talking about coping. Being who I am, a Christian minister seeking to proclaim the word of God, I was not interested just in a series of self-help, psychological messages. So I thought for awhile that I would talk about conquering as Christians. Paul said we Christians are to be more than conquerors.
That’s a thrilling word, and I’m going to be talking about some sense of that throughout this series. But as I looked seriously at our predicament and the offer of the Christian gospel, I decided against the use of the word conquering.
To conquer means “subdue, overcome or crush to defeat.” So, I couldn’t use that word. Some of the issues that I’m going to deal with cannot be subdued or crushed or defeated. They are recurring problems in our lives. They are not enemies we are to annihilate, or powers we can put down once and for all. They keep coming back - we have to deal with them from time to time. So, “coping” is the right word – to contend or struggle successfully.
For twelve weeks, we’ll be involved in this series. We will lift up some of the thorniest and most devastating experiences such as depression and death, as well as some of the nitty-gritty, everyday sorts of problems such as loneliness and stress. We want to lift the experiences up, look at them in the light of God’s grace with the resources of scriptural guidance, prayer, and our commitment to Christian discipleship, and see if we can’t find a way to cope as Christians - to cope in a joyful way which in the end will make us what Paul said we could be as Christians: “more than conquerors.” We will move beyond coping to the solid foundation of graceful, grace-responsive, grace-responsible living.
Today I want to begin at what may appear to be an elementary level - one of those nitty-gritty problems that all of us face - the interruptions of our life that drive us to distraction, drain us of our energy, and often divert us from purposeful living. I’m talking specifically about integrating life’s interruptions.
You remember Robert Browbing’s word:
Just when we think we’re safest, there’s a sunset touch…someone’s death, a chorus ending from Euripides, and that’s enough for fifty hopes and fears. (Bishop Blougram’s apology)
Now Browning was talking about interruptions that are more profound and life-shattering, than those I want to talk about today – He was talking about such interruption as that ultimate one: death, death in our own life, or in the life of another.
But the picture is here in Browning’s word. Just when we’re settled down, when we’re safest, when we think everything is going along smoothly, there’s an interruption - a sunset touch, a serious illness, the loss of a job, someone’s death. But it’s even more common than that.
There’s a story told of Leonardo De Vinci who was one day working on the face of Jesus in his masterpiece, “The Last Supper”. For twelve years he had been working on that painting and much of it had been completed, but there was a blank space on the wall where the face of Jesus was to appear. For inspiration, Leonardo had one of his pupils read the 13th chapter of John’s gospel - you know, that’s the chapter that tells of Jesus when he was having that last supper with his disciples, taking a basin and a towel, washing the disciples feet, and dramatically living out who he was.
But hardly had the sound of the last word of the gospel story died away and the image of Jesus that face full of life, began to form in Leonardo’s mind, when another pupil burst into the room and cried out, “At last, we’ve found you. We’ve come from the Duchess.”
“What has happened?” Leonardo asked.
“Trouble, Monsieur Leonardo! The pipes in the bath will not work,” replied the pupil.
“Nonsense,” said De Vinci. “You see that I’m busy. Find Zorra Astro and tell him to fix the pipes.”
“Oh no,” the pupil declared. “I’m ordered by the Duchess not to return without you.”
Leonardo tried to resume his work, but it was no use. The image was gone. He slowly closed his box of colors and descended the scaffold, leaving off painting the face of Jesus to go and fix the plumbing.
Well, that’s the way it is, isn’t it? Just when we’re safest, when we have it together, when all is going well, there’s an interruption. Many times the sublime is interrupted by the prosaic, even the ridiculous. Sometimes it’s a significant task that we’re committed to do which gets diverted. You’ve heard people describe it: today has been one interruption after another. Norman Cousins once described his work as editor of The Saturday Review as “presiding over interruptions.”
Do you feel like that - that you spend your life presiding over, trying to manage, trying to keep going in a primary direction, when you’re pulled hither and yon by interruptions?
This is one of the most troublesome flies in the ointment of life. These interruptions don’t announce themselves. The seriousness of them is dependent upon the nature of the interruption, but also on what’s going on in our lives when they pop in.
There are the slight ones which irritate us and sometimes play havoc: a telephone call when we’re rushing out the door for an important engagement, the guests who come unannounced, the loss of electric power when we’re making final preparations for a dinner party, having to pickup a child at school because of a stomach ache and we could go on and on.
Then there are the more serious ones: a hurricane or a flood driven persons from their home, threatening and disrupting days, severe financial reversal, loss of employment, divorce, a serious accident, death, a transfer in our job that takes us to a strange city.
Interruptions - they are as common as corn flakes. If we don’t learn to cope with them, they will keep our nerves frayed, will drain us of the energy we need to invest more meaningfully, will drive us to distraction and play havoc with relationships. How can we cope? The interruptions are not going to go away they’ll keep popping up to invade our lives just when we’re safest - life is just that way.
Let’s look at Jesus and learn from him. The scripture lesson that we read follows an intense period of ministry in Jesus’ life. Had we gone back to Chapter 5, we would have read the story of the demoniac in the cemetery, whom Jesus ministered to, leaving him “clothed in his right mind.” We would have read of that ruler of the synagogue, Jairus, coming to Jesus, falling at Jesus’ feet and begging him to come and heal his daughter who was at the point of death - and Jesus responded. We would have read that marvelous story of faith, a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years, pressing through the multitude and touching just the hem of his garment, and Jesus feeling that touch and responding to that woman’s faith - “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease.”
Following that period of intense ministry, and his sending his own disciples out to minister, Jesus realized that all of them needed rest and renewal. So he suggested that they cross the Sea of Galilee and find an isolated place where they could rest, be silent, share, and pray together. But as they make their way to that place of retreat, people, finding out where He’s going, interrupt Him, and it happens again. Jesus is cast into the pressing demand of human needs to be met.
So, we need to look at Jesus, and learn from Him, in order that our interruptions will not play havoc in our lives, but that we will be able to integrate those interruptions meaningfully.
I.
First of all, Jesus could integrate the interruptions into his life because He had a clear purpose. His vocation, what he was about, was the connecting, integrated power in his life. That’s the first word.
To cope with interruptions, you must have purpose in life and keep that purpose clean. Here’s a story to illustrate.
Toscanini was one of the great conductors of our century. When he was 88 years old, he was invited to conduct the B.B.C. Orchestra in Albert Hall in London. He gave a spectacular performance, and the Board of Trustees of BBC quickly met and decided that they would invite him to be the Orchestra’s permanent conductor. They offered him a contract for two years. Remember now, Toscanini was 88. He looked at them and said, “I’m disappointed. I was hoping the contract would be for ten years.” That’s clarity of purpose, isn’t it?
The power of purpose was so evident in Jesus. He never lost sight of that purpose. He had settled it at the outset when he spent 40 days and nights in the wilderness. He would not be a magician turning stones into bread. He would not be a power broker, ruling over nations. He would not be a super star, attracting attention to himself by jumping off the mountainside. He stated his purpose cryptically: “The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto but to minister.”
So, not even when he was at the center of everyone’s attention did he lose sight of his purpose.
Interruptions will not devastate us if we are clear about our purpose.
II.
Two, we can cope with our interruptions and integrate the positively in our lives, if we keep the perspective that persons, not things, are of ultimate value. When we have that perspective, we realize that life’s love is interruptible. There’s a word in our text – the 84th verse, “as he landed he saw a great throne, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.
Jesus had a sixth sense about the needs of others, we marvel at Jesus’ sensitivity. Can’t you just see that mad man come running out of the cemetery, battered because he’d beaten himself with stones in his madness. Jesus could see his hurt. He could look beyond that manic behavior those bizarre clothes, the broken chains that had bound him, and see someone who was hurting.
Then there was Jairus. Jesus was not interested in his position of prestige as a leader in the synagogue. Respect and admiration were not enough for Jairus now; his daughter was in mortal danger. And Jesus responded.
And I think one of the most thrilling stories of all New Testament healings really is a story of a healing that takes place on the way to a healing. You see this is one of those interruptions in Jesus’ life, because He was on his way to heal Jairus’ daughter when in the midst of the jostling crowd, He sensed something going on, someone was touching Him. What a bold thing this woman had done what wild abandonment in faith and trust - just to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. She did, and Jesus did - He healed her.
We can cope with our interruptions and integrate them positively in our lives if we keep the perspective that persons, not things, are the eternal value. With that perspective, we realize that life’s love is interruptible. So, a phone call comes when we’re in the midst of seriously grappling with a problem. So, there’s a knock on our door in the middle of the morning when we’re rushing around trying to get ready for a very important engagement. So, a call comes at midnight when we need so desperately our rest for the work that we’re to do tomorrow. So out of town company pops in unannounced, so Johnny gets a stomach-ache at school when we wanted to play tennis. When we have the right perspective on person’s life and love is interruptible.
I had a marvelous Methodist Minister friend out in Southern California. His name was Skidmore; we called him Skid.
When he was 51 years old, diagnosed an inoperable cancer, and gave him six months to a year to live. He wrote the following letter to his congregation.
“Dear Christian Friends,
It has taken me 51 years of living and 33 years in the Christian life to learn the real meaning of Jesus’ word in the Sermon on the Mount, “Do not be anxious about tomorrow.” I have been a very ambitious man, and I have abhorred the mediocre. Always within me has been the desire to excel. In living this way I have been impatient and anxious, inattentive and often unkind. My goals have been long distance and compulsive. In consequence I have given less than my best to the person in front of me, because I was thinking way ahead to the goals and plans beyond. Now all is different. My anxieties are gone. I have no idea how long I shall live, but then there is today. Each day is meaning more to me than ever before. Each person I meet can have all there is of me for those moments we’re together. I may not get as much done from here on out, but life is far more peaceful. I have at last come to accept these words of Jesus for me “Do not be anxious about your life.”
I like that sentence: “Each person I meet can have all there is of me for those moments we’re together.” Life and love are interruptible.
We need to learn from Skid. He dealt victoriously with the interruption of cancer - he clarified his purpose, and he regained the perspective that persons, not things, are of ultimate value. One little picture now to focus it all.
During his younger days, the Irish statesman, Eamon de Valera, was often arrested for expressing his political beliefs. But he would not be silenced. The moment he was freed, he would bounce back with greater determination than ever.
At one time he was arrested in the middle of a speech. He served a year’s sentence. When he was released, he returned to the same auditorium. Facing the crowd, he began, “As I was saying when I was interrupted…”
Need I say more? That’s the picture for integrating life’s interruptions.