What Time It Is

It was Palm Sunday three years ago. Some of you may remember the day. It was the year Daylight Savings Time began on that Sunday. I thought I had set my alarm correctly. But the next thing I knew I woke up and looked at the clock. And then I said this prayer, “O. my. Lord.” That was the beginning of the prayer. . .and the end, because I didn’t have any more words or any more time. It was, I think 8:11am, and many of you were waiting for me to walk in the sanctuary. I took a luxurious minute and half to hastily splash water on my face and get dressed; then I flew to the church, threw on my robe, and tried act as calm and prepared as I could. But there was no faking it that morning.

It was one of my worst fears come true. In the past I had nightmares about it happening, and it finally did. But I’m not only one to fall prey to not knowing what time it is. You have too, I bet. It’s always a bad sign when you look at your watch in horror and shout, “Oh no, is that what time it is?!”. “Look at the time!”

Some of us seem better than others at living with a small margin of time. You know who I’m talking about. They are the ones who just seem to be starting to get ready when everyone else is already at the dinner. Although they less time than a sane person needs, they remember at the late hour that the plants need watered and the cat fed and all the burners checked to make sure they’re turned off. And you are in the car saying the Serenity Prayer as the minutes tick down.

I have lived in close proximity to some world class professionals when it comes to habitually running late. My sister, Kristin, when we were kids, raised the bar at an early age. I’m not sure I ever experienced the first 15 minutes of Sunday school when mom was driving all five kids there. I have since known and known well some other procrastinators of whom I shall say no more, in order to protect my own skin.

It’s not a coincidence that some of the activities we most enjoy are ones in which time is not so urgent. In these things we can forget about time, for a time. Watch a baseball game, they don’t keep time. Go play with your friends, just be home by supper. One of the things Jenn and I used to do with her sisters was go floating down the Juniata in tubes. It took all day. You wore sun screen but not a watch. It didn’t matter.

But those kind of things are remembered fondly because they seem to have a timeless quality. They stand out and are preserved because all other moments are being swept away in time.

If someone asks you what “Advent” means, “Watch the Time,” is not a bad answer.
Wake up! It’s later than you think! What should we wake up about?

“Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first became believers. . .” Romans 13.11

In my life, sometimes it feels like I have all the time in the world. I think about the stream of my life and the passage of years. . .all the people I have known and the places I”ve been. It all seems so abundant, like my time is a renewable resource.

But it’s not. No, no. Because the longer you are floating down the river on your tube the faster the current gets. You are going someplace. You can’t float back up stream. You are moving in one direction, irrevocably. And God works with us and through the events and people that we meet along the way to work out our salvation and grow in it. Some days, salvation feels like cool water and warm sunshine and a lazy afternoon. But don’t let that fool you. Time seduces us on.

“Precious time is slipping away. You know you’re only King for day. That beautiful girl, she’s gonna die some day. Precious time is slipping away.” Van Morrison

Sometimes my boys, unasked for, blurt out to me, “Hey, you’re an old man.” And I say, “You may be right. But if you keep talking like that, you’re not going to have that problem.”

Salvation is nearer to us than it once was.

And if salvation is nearer to us, so too, is judgment. Judgment day is that much closer.
There’s a sense of urgency is Paul’s words. When those first believers in Rome read this letter, maybe, they were startled and alarmed at the tone they sensed in Paul’s voice.

“Wake up. . .lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and immorality; not in quarreling and jealousy.”


Get rid of the sin! Get rid of the anger! Get rid of the bitterness and the blaming! Cause they take their toll. They are not our friends. We’ll wear out and waste away trying to carry them around with us. Stop telling yourself that tomorrow or next week you’ll get your act together. Today. Today. Tomorrow is not promised to us.

Jennifer and I were rudely and brutally reminded of this truth last Sunday. Nothing prepared us. Nothing told us in advance that this day was going to be different. Nobody told us that Sherry wasn’t going to be floating with us anymore.

Start giving now. Don’t have regrets about your money and your stuff. Start forgiving now. Don’t let hurts fester and bitterness set in. Start loving now. It’s seems pretty obvious to say, but your people are more important than that television you watch and they’re more important than that job you go to. But they won’t be there forever. Love is the only thing we take with us.

There’s more I want to say but . . . look at the time.