Sunday Service - 2/5/2012 - Sam Wells
Published 1 year ago
A service of worship in Duke University Chapel. The Reverend Dr. Samuel Wells delivers a sermon entitled "Are You Tired?."
Opening excerpt from the sermon: (31:59)
"Picture the scene. It's Sunday night. You're at home with your loved ones -- except just tonight, they don't really feel like loved ones: they feel like your dull, ordinary, hang-around ones, the people who leave their laundry on the ground for you to pick up, the companions who put their dishes in the sink for you miraculously to beautify, the housemates who never in a million years remember what day the garbage truck comes along your street at 6 o'clock in the morning and think to put the trash out the night before -- those kind of take-for-granted, been-years-since-you've-really-looked-me-in-the-eye-or-gave-me-flowers loved ones. Bodies are splayed out over sofas, as if to say "I'm so tired I can hardly face Monday morning and there's nothing that could raise my body from horizontal," and even the idea of feeding the eyes on TV candy or a mindless computer game seems too demanding. If this apocalyptic scene were a cartoon, the caption would read, "The night that energy levels finally plummeted below zero."
"And then... the telephone rings. And in this digitized age, it's that rare thing -- a caller whose number is not recognized by any of the technology your household has assembled for the purpose. And your companion answers the call. Suddenly the whole ecosphere changes. Your companion starts laughing and agreeing with everything their conversation partner says, rocking back and forth on the sofa with breathless intensity and jumping up to fetch a document from another room and answer whatever pretext it was that occasioned the call. Your companion's found a reserve of energy that's convulsed them, as dramatically as a computer screen booting up from hibernation mode to full activity. And you immediately wonder, "Who is this person on the other end of the line? What precisely is so exciting about them that suddenly turns a sack of potatoes into a dancing ballerina?" And it's almost impossible to avoid a paroxysm of envy. "Where did that burst of energy come from? Why do I never see that kind of energy? Maybe Sunday nights aren't about being tired of work or tired of life. Maybe they're about being tired of me."
Closing excerpt from the sermon: (49:12)
"And Hilly, yes you, Hilly, you listen up too. Isaiah's got just as good news for you. You may be tired -- it's a good thing you are tired, because it shows you know you're running, and maybe you're just beginning to admit who you're really running from. You may well be tired from all that running. But God's not tired of you. You may be trampling on God, wounding God, neglecting God, forgetting God, hurting God. But God's not tired of you. I have on a chair at home a cushion that says on it, "I want to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am." Like a devoted puppy, God keeps coming back to you Hilly, even though you've constructed more and more elaborate devices to keep God away. All you've got to say is, "I want to become the kind of person God knows I really am, the person God made me to be, the person God's making me if I would just let it happen." And then suddenly it's like you're curled up in that fetal position on the Sunday night sofa and the phone call comes and you find a rush of energy and life that you hadn't known for months, years -- perhaps ever. You can walk, after all those years of hobbling and stumbling, you can walk and not faint. You can run, after all that time running away you now find the joy of running towards -- and when you're running towards God you don't get weary. You can mount up with wings, because when you're filled with the wind of the Holy Spirit, you won't be needing your legs anymore, you'll be like an eagle, banking and swooping and soaring and diving like you could fly forever. It's Sunday night. You're tired. You're tired as hell. But God's not tired. And God's certainly not tired of you. It's the best news in the whole world. Isaiah's calling -- on a new number. And d'you know what? The call is for you."
Opening excerpt from the sermon: (31:59)
"Picture the scene. It's Sunday night. You're at home with your loved ones -- except just tonight, they don't really feel like loved ones: they feel like your dull, ordinary, hang-around ones, the people who leave their laundry on the ground for you to pick up, the companions who put their dishes in the sink for you miraculously to beautify, the housemates who never in a million years remember what day the garbage truck comes along your street at 6 o'clock in the morning and think to put the trash out the night before -- those kind of take-for-granted, been-years-since-you've-really-looked-me-in-the-eye-or-gave-me-flowers loved ones. Bodies are splayed out over sofas, as if to say "I'm so tired I can hardly face Monday morning and there's nothing that could raise my body from horizontal," and even the idea of feeding the eyes on TV candy or a mindless computer game seems too demanding. If this apocalyptic scene were a cartoon, the caption would read, "The night that energy levels finally plummeted below zero."
"And then... the telephone rings. And in this digitized age, it's that rare thing -- a caller whose number is not recognized by any of the technology your household has assembled for the purpose. And your companion answers the call. Suddenly the whole ecosphere changes. Your companion starts laughing and agreeing with everything their conversation partner says, rocking back and forth on the sofa with breathless intensity and jumping up to fetch a document from another room and answer whatever pretext it was that occasioned the call. Your companion's found a reserve of energy that's convulsed them, as dramatically as a computer screen booting up from hibernation mode to full activity. And you immediately wonder, "Who is this person on the other end of the line? What precisely is so exciting about them that suddenly turns a sack of potatoes into a dancing ballerina?" And it's almost impossible to avoid a paroxysm of envy. "Where did that burst of energy come from? Why do I never see that kind of energy? Maybe Sunday nights aren't about being tired of work or tired of life. Maybe they're about being tired of me."
Closing excerpt from the sermon: (49:12)
"And Hilly, yes you, Hilly, you listen up too. Isaiah's got just as good news for you. You may be tired -- it's a good thing you are tired, because it shows you know you're running, and maybe you're just beginning to admit who you're really running from. You may well be tired from all that running. But God's not tired of you. You may be trampling on God, wounding God, neglecting God, forgetting God, hurting God. But God's not tired of you. I have on a chair at home a cushion that says on it, "I want to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am." Like a devoted puppy, God keeps coming back to you Hilly, even though you've constructed more and more elaborate devices to keep God away. All you've got to say is, "I want to become the kind of person God knows I really am, the person God made me to be, the person God's making me if I would just let it happen." And then suddenly it's like you're curled up in that fetal position on the Sunday night sofa and the phone call comes and you find a rush of energy and life that you hadn't known for months, years -- perhaps ever. You can walk, after all those years of hobbling and stumbling, you can walk and not faint. You can run, after all that time running away you now find the joy of running towards -- and when you're running towards God you don't get weary. You can mount up with wings, because when you're filled with the wind of the Holy Spirit, you won't be needing your legs anymore, you'll be like an eagle, banking and swooping and soaring and diving like you could fly forever. It's Sunday night. You're tired. You're tired as hell. But God's not tired. And God's certainly not tired of you. It's the best news in the whole world. Isaiah's calling -- on a new number. And d'you know what? The call is for you."
