Practicing Life

Deuteronomy 30:15-20 (CEB)

“Look here! Today I’ve set before you life and what’s good versus death and what’s wrong. If you obey the Lord your God’s commandments that I’m commanding you right now by loving the Lord your God, by walking in his ways, and by keeping his commandments, his regulations, and his case laws, then you will live and thrive, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess. But if your heart turns away and you refuse to listen, and so are misled, worshipping other gods and serving them, I’m telling you right now that you will definitely die. You will not prolong your life on the fertile land that you are crossing the Jordan River to enter and possess. I call heaven and earth as my witnesses against you right now: I have set life and death, blessing and curse before you. Now choose life—so that you and your descendants will live— by loving the Lord your God, by obeying his voice, and by clinging to him. That’s how you will survive and live long on the fertile land the Lord swore to give to your ancestors: to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

Sermon

At first glance, Moses’ instruction to “choose life” might seem a little obvious. If given the choice, we prefer a beautiful bouquet of flowers over a fistful of limp, rotting stems. We prefer to live next to parks or nature preserves rather than landfills. We prefer the water we drink to be clean, rather than sickening or polluted. “Choosing life” seems like a slam dunk.

And yet, Moses instructs the Hebrew people to “choose life,” and as we see throughout scripture, he said it for good reason. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus counts the cost of discipleship, reminding his friends that choosing life often comes at a price. Humanity has a habit of getting in the way of life; when Jesus healed and taught and prophesied against the empire, humanity was willing to kill him to escape choosing life.

In the exodus from Egypt, in wandering in the wilderness, in observing the sabbath, in building the homes of God, and in prophesying against injustice, we see that choosing life places us on a path that is anything but straightforward; and we see that choosing life requires choosing it again and again.

We also see this in the world around. “Choosing life” happens each day when we take medications for illness or mental health. It takes place in hard conversations with friends and loved ones. It takes place when we decide to move from our own homes and into residential care facilities. It takes place in loving those who are addicted, even when we know this time might not be different.

Today is a day when we choose life. There are real costs to holding a picnic — there’s planning and prep work, hauling supplies around, leasing this space, and the time and energy going into the potluck. And yet, we choose life anyway. As we live in the light of Pentecost, we trust that the Holy Spirit changes us through this, somehow, in a way that is special. Because ultimately, it is the Spirit who compels us to choose life. It is the Holy Spirit who compels our community of faith to deepen its relationships, and connections, and rest.

It is more than remarkable—it is a little glimpse of the resurrection—when we rest. In a time when we are bled dry by the demands of consumerism, corporatism, and technological exploitation, we witness the Spirit whenever we set aside a day for rest and recreation. When toxic positivity or shallow platitudes swallow up bookstores and social media, we see the Spirit when we follow the pattern of Christ, and enter into the fullness and complexity of others’ pain. When the complexities and challenges of church governance threaten to eat us up, we see the Spirit when we choose to slow down, take a breath, and ask for help.

“In the exodus from Egypt, in wandering in the wilderness, in observing the sabbath, in building the homes of God, and in prophesying against injustice, we see that choosing life places us on a path that is anything but straightforward; and we see that choosing life requires choosing it again and again.”

Alright… let’s keep eavesdropping on Moses. Moses says this: “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses.”

Moses doesn’t say “if you grow in numbers or grow in strength, you can one day choose life.” Not “fight a little harder and go a little further and then you can choose life.” Moses says, “Today… I have set before you life and death.” There’s no condition that needs to be met, or some consultant that’s needed first, or some piece of secret wisdom they need. No… Moses says “Today I have [already] set before you life and death.”

So often in our lives, we think “if I can do X, Y, or Z, then I can get everything figured out.” If I could get a degree, I would be able to flourish. Or If I could put a little more in savings, then I would be able to rest. As Moses leaves the Hebrew people, it’s not hard to imagine some of those similar thoughts surfacing. They might have worried, saying “we need another Moses,” or “once we reach Canaan, then we can rest and get things right.” But no. Moses says that they have everything they need; all that is in the heavens and on the earth will testify to the sufficiency of their lives. So choose life today.

“In a time when we are bled dry by the demands of consumerism, corporatism, and technological exploitation, we witness the Spirit whenever we set aside a day for rest and recreation.”

When clinical chaplains are being trained, they almost always have to participate in something called a “covenant group,” or an “interpersonal reflection group.” It’s somewhat diabolical. There’s a facilitator, who often stays silent, and the rest of the chaplains in training sit in a circle. It’s an open, unstructured time, usually about an hour, where you talk about conflict. This time can include telling a colleague and talking about why you don’t like them. It can include disclosing past traumas, things you appreciate about a doctor or patient, or pretty much anything else.

But the goal remains the same: this group is meant to be a laboratory for chaplains learning how to navigate conflict, challenging relationships, and their own personal anxieties or mental blocks.

Choosing life also takes practice. We don’t always know how to choose life, or know what it means specifically in our lives. We don’t have to participate in “interpersonal reflection groups,” but we do have to practice following the Spirit into love, and joy, and hope, and peace.

The community of the Church can be that playground and laboratory to practice life. When we form close relationships with others here, we have the chance to practice cultivating meaningful, mutually-supportive relationships. We can practice talking through conflict. In committees, we practice choosing life as a corporate body. In getting involved with children and youth, we help choose life for those we nurture. In worship, we practice choosing rest, even if it’s inconvenient and inefficient. In every aspect of our life together as the body of Christ, Moses is offering us the same challenge: “I have set life and death… before you. Choose life.”

“The community of the Church can be that playground and laboratory to ‘practice life.’”

That’s all I can challenge us to do. Choose life in this moment through worship; choose life today by getting to know someone new; choose life today and slow down and take a break; choose life today through play — hiking, boating, swimming, playing cornhole, or talking about everything and anything in the butterfly garden.

There’s nothing more we need. Through the Spirit, there is sufficiency in all we are, the space we’re in, and this community right here.

So toss out the wilted, lifeless stems of life. Plant a vegetable garden. Pick up the litter of life. And plunge headfirst into the cleansing, living waters of God.