"On Not Wasting My Time"--September 26, 2019

"On Not Wasting My Time"--September 26, 2019

"Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil." [Ephesians 5:15-16]

I don't want to waste my time anymore.  

Maybe more than that, I don't want to waste the opportunities, the chances to be a part of grace and beauty and healing and love in this world, that come with my minutes and days.  I have misspent so many already.  I want to "make the most of my time," as the letter to the Ephesians puts it, or as an older translation put it, "redeem the time."

But to be clear, I don't think Ephesians means the same thing our wider culture usually means when it talks about "making the most of time."  We have a way of taking that phrase and putting the most self-centered spin on it as possible.  We turn this into some ancient version of the old Schlitz beer slogan, "You only go around once in this life, so grab all the gusto you can!" as if the apostle is telling us to do as much for our own gain as we can before we die.

And so, we who learned the Latin phrase, Carpe diem ("Seize the day") once upon a time when it was a popular slogan on coffee mugs, sweatshirts, and tote bags, we are tempted to hear this verse from Ephesians as if the writer is saying, "Do as much fun stuff as you can in life! Go to the beach more! Take more vacations! Go to more parties, watch more pro ball games at the stadium, and ride more roller coasters!  You've got to do these things while you can, because you've got to... make the most of your time and, you know, seize the day!"

Except, here's the thing--I just can't waste my time on that way of thinking anymore.  In a world where so many people of infinite value to God suffer, it seems like privileged whining for me to complain that I didn't get to go see this or that movie when it was in theaters, or to make a fuss about not getting to go see a Steelers game because I was at the hospital or in a counseling session or visiting someone at home who can't get out.   And I just don't want to be a part of that kind of self-absorbed nonsense anymore.  I know I will struggle sometimes and probably slide back into the old ways, but I don't want to do it.  I don't want to waste my minutes that way.

Because while I'm occupying myself with any of those self-indulgent ways of using up my minutes, somebody else was hurting, and I could be a part of the work of healing.  While I'm consumed with lazily browsing my Amazon recommendations or watching that TV show everyone says I just "have" to get into, somebody else is without a home, or is on the brink of taking their own life. Somebody is at the edge of despair, or is sitting alone in a hospital waiting room about to have their world shattered, or running for their life from violence and poverty and seeking a safe place to live.  While I'm content with my own little social life, or mowing my yard to perfection, or going out for the night because I need some "me time", somebody else is just trying to survive another day after running from an abusive boyfriend, or trying to get sober for the fifth time, or cutting themselves just to find out if anyone notices.  And it seems a damn shame to me to go another day being so focused on my self and my own amusement that I turn up the music on the radio so I don't have to think about the people only a few degrees of separation from my life who could use my help, my ability, my time, or my willingness to accompany them.

This, I think, is closer to what Ephesians has in mind when it says we need to "make the most of the time."  I don't think the apostle cares whether I get to go out to a new restaurant to try their appetizers, but whether I spent my minutes sharing a meal with someone who has no home of their own.  I don't think it matters whether I ever again get to watch a field full of adults move a ball across a line in the grass or hit a different ball into the stands or throw a big round ball through a hoop--at least if I'm doing it simply for my own entertainment.  The world has more important things that need to be done.  And people right around me--not only across the world, but even right across the street--are aching in ways I have never dared to ask about, because I have been so focused on making my own little comfortable, insulated world where we don't have to think about such things.  We just turn the music up on the stereo, or put on a movie to distract us, or buy more from our list of "recommended deals" so we don't have to think about any of those faces.

And I'm just tired of it.  

To be clear, this isn't about needing to impress God or having to do a certain number of religious service projects in order to get into heaven.  You'll notice that the writer of Ephesians here doesn't say anything about having to do "enough" in order to earn salvation, or a ticket to the afterlife, or anything.  This isn't about doing enough good deeds to win a prize, whether in this life or any other.  In fact, if my only reason for doing good deeds for other people is to use them as a means for earning religious merit badges so I can get some heavenly reward, I don't really love my neighbor--I am simply using my neighbor's suffering as a way of helping myself out.  

But that's not at all how the writer to the Ephesians sees this.  Instead, the question is simply, "What will you do with your days, because there is an awful lot of evil out there, and an awful lot of good that needs to be done?"  And I am just sick of the countless messages we get bombarded with that say, in so many words, "Don't think about the needs of other people around you--just let yourself go numb to it all by having a look at our dessert menu!"  I am tired of giving myself excuses to be indifferent to the needs around me, and the ways we all sort of give each other permission to be apathetic, too.  After all, as long as we all agree we're not going to care about the addict who is a friend of a friend, or the family that just got evicted from their apartment because their car broke down and they lost their job when they couldn't drive there, or the person whose only social interaction is the mail carrier, then none of us has to feel bad about not taking the time for these faces.  As long as we all agree to believe that "making the most of the time" is about filling our social calendars rather than about filling someone's empty belly, we all get to let ourselves off the hook.

And the writer of Ephesians just won't let me off the hook that way anymore.  I can't do it.  I can't let complacency and my first-world problems (like "They were out of my favorite brand of cereal today at the store!" or "I've got that big gala to go to next month, and I simply have nothing new to wear for it!") make me numb to the aching of people very close to me that I have chosen not to pay attention to.  And I can't give myself permission to waste more minutes of my life on my own self-indulgence when there are other faces whom God loves just as much as God loves me who are just on the verge of falling apart.

This is the struggle we are a part of, day by day.  It is the struggle, not so much between obvious evil and obvious good, but between the best way to spend our time and a whole host of not-wicked-but-clearly-kind-of-selfish ways of spending our time.  It's relatively easy, one hopes, to choose between the obvious evil versus the obvious good: you should know to pick the Jedi over the Empire, and Indiana Jones over the Nazis, and Harry Potter over Voldemort.  But it is harder--and often requires a level of maturity that we don't use as much as we might--to choose what is best rather than settling for one of the lesser options, because we tell ourselves, "There's nothing sinful about..."  Like the old saying goes, "The 'good thing'

 is often the worst enemy of the 'best thing'." It's hard work asking, "What is the best use of my time, my love, my energy, my attention?"  And it is hard work doing it when we get an answer.  Always easier to tell ourselves that a little retail therapy or another dinner out will make that pesky feeling of obligation to our neighbors go away.  

So let me ask you, if you find yourself in the position to do so, to hold me accountable.  Where you catch me settling for something less than love of neighbor in the way I use my time, call me out on it.  Where you see hypocrisy in me, bring it right in my face.  Where you see me wasting my time on more me-centric nonsense, help me to see my blind-spots.  And where you see neighbors I have forgotten to care for, smack me upside the head so I will see their faces, made in the image of God.

Somebody only a few degrees of separation from you and me really could have used our help, our time, and our love.  And today, someone with your and my sphere of influence could really use your kindness and the gift of your time today.  What will we do with our days, and what is the best use of the day that has been given to us?  Because it seems to me very clearly that at the bottom of it all, love is the way to make the most of your time.  Love, not in the sense of getting butterflies in your stomach when a certain someone walks into the room (because that's really just one more way of being all about myself anyway), but in the sense of spending yourself for the good of another, regardless of whether you "get" anything back for your effort, that kind of love is what it looks like to make the most of our time.

Dear friends, let us not waste another moment of this precious life full of people who are precious to God with anything less than love.  Help me not to waste my life anymore, too.

Lord Jesus, give us the eyes, the energy, and the love to make the most of the time we have, because we live in days where evil, indifference, and cruelty are all around.