About the Author: Sunday Sermons from Sell Chapel are written by Rev. Preston Van Deursen, Director of Pastoral Care at the Masonic Village at Elizabethtown.

About the Author: Sunday Sermons from Sell Chapel are written by Rev. Preston Van Deursen, Director of Pastoral Care at the Masonic Village at Elizabethtown.

I don’t know about you but every day I am amazed at the creativity of human beings.

Even at the time of death. For example, consider this epitaph on a grave from the 1880s in Nantucket, Massachusetts:

Under the sod and under the trees . . . Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
He is not here, there’s only the pod . . . Pease shelled out and went to God.

Or this one from a more recent burial:

Here lies my wife . . . Here let her lie.
Now she’s at rest . . . And so am I.

Or this one from the grave of a dentist named John Brown:

Stranger! Approach this spot with gravity!
John Brown is filling his last cavity.

Epitaphs normally seek to sum up a person’s life in just a few words. If you had to sum up your life in just a few words, how would you do it?

Author Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to prove his skill as an author by writing a story in only six words. Hemingway responded with these six ingenuous words: “For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.” It would be difficult to tell a more heart-breaking story than that.

In the tradition of Hemingway, an online literary magazine challenged its readers to write the story of their own lives their memoirs using just six words. The editors published the best responses to their challenge in a little volume. The title, of course, was six words: Not Quite What I Was Planning, subtitled, Six-Word Memoirs by Famous and Obscure Writers. One famous author, Joyce Carol Oates, submitted these six words: “Revenge is living well without you.” Comic Stephen Colbert submitted this one: “Well, I thought it was funny.”

The book contains submissions by obscure writers, too. I like this one from someone named John Kurtz: “Kentucky trash heap yields unexpected flower.” And this one from a 27-year-old man after a breakup: “I still make coffee for two.” How about this one? “70 years, few tears, hairy ears.” And the best one of all? Here’s my choice: “Cursed with cancer. Blessed with friends.”

Today in our lesson, St. Paul is writing to the church at Philippi from a prison cell. Even in prison his ministry has been fruitful. He wants the Christians at Philippi to know that what has happened to him his imprisonment and persecution has actually helped to spread the gospel. His steadfast witness has won converts even in jail. Still, he knows that his situation is precarious. He knows that he could be facing martyrdom and so he begins to ponder what this might mean. And here is his conclusion it’s a win/win situation. In fact, he sums up his situation in what could easily be two four-word memoirs: “to live is Christ; to die is gain.”

Let’s begin with that first memoir: “To live is Christ.” What a wonderful way to sum up Paul’s life. At first, he had been a persecutor of Christians. However, when Paul met Christ on the Damascus Road and gave his life to Christ, he gave himself to Christ completely. That is why he had such a profound effect on the development of the early church. That is why we carry so many of his writings in our New Testaments. For Paul it could easily be said, “To live is Christ.”

Josh McDowell tells about the time he was visiting with a “head-hunter” an executive recruiter who seeks new corporate executives for companies. The man told McDowell about a recent experience he had with a man he interviewed. “When I get an executive that I’m trying to hire for someone else,” said the head-hunter, “I like to disarm him. I offer him a drink, take my coat off, then my vest, undo my tie, throw up my feet and talk about baseball, football, family, whatever, until he’s all relaxed. Then, when I think I’ve got him relaxed, I lean over, look him square in the eye and say, ‘What’s your purpose in life?’ It’s amazing how top executives fall apart at that question.

“Well,” he continued, “I was interviewing this fellow the other day, had him all disarmed, with my feet up on his desk, talking about football. Then I leaned up and said, ‘What’s your purpose in life, Bob?’ And he said, without blinking an eye, ‘To go to heaven and take as many people with me as I can.’ For the first time in my career,” said this corporate head-hunter, “I was speechless.”

You and I would probably use different language, but could we state our life purpose that succinctly and would our life purpose contain a reference to Christ? For example we might say, “To leave this world a better place and to glorify Christ in all I do.” Or we might say, “To live a life of love following the example of Jesus Christ.” The question is, is our faith the pre-eminent decider in choosing our life purpose?

I read about Wesley Britt, a 6-foot-8-inch, offensive lineman now with the New England Patriots. It’s an interesting story. Britt is a graduate of the University of Alabama and played for the Crimson Tide. In his senior year he was one of 22 players nationwide chosen to the Playboy All-American team.

With the honor comes a free week at the Playboy Mansion in California, the opportunity to meet Hugh Hefner himself, and a chance to be pampered by real-life Playboy bunnies. What football player wouldn’t jump at an opportunity like that? For one, Wesley Britt. He said it didn’t sound like the sort of thing he should do.

Britt takes his faith seriously. He spends a lot of time visiting churches and speaking to young people about the importance of embracing and living faith. Without sounding prudish or self-righteous, he said visiting the Playboy Mansion wasn’t the thing for him to do. “Initially, I was like, ‘Yeah, I’m going to take it. It’s a great honor,’” he said. “But after thinking about it for a while, I decided this is not one of my goals. I put God first and I set my goals for him. I talked to God about it and I felt it just wasn’t the right thing to do.”

As you might expect, he has taken some ribbing from college buddies. A few just outright told him he was crazy. One or two offered to wear a disguise and take his place. Many more, however, have spoken of how they respect him for his decision.

I don’t know about you, but I am encouraged that there are still young people like Wesley Britt who are that serious about their faith in Christ. It’s a challenge to each of us.

“To live is Christ.” That’s a four-word memoir that sums up the abundant life. What would you substitute in its place? “To live is work?” “To live is eating” “To live is watching TV. Surely you can see how pathetic that is. I suspect some of you would substitute “To live is my family.” And certainly our family is important. But here is the truth of the matter, there are many people with good jobs, nice families and fun hobbies, who when they come to the end of the day realize that none of it is enough to satisfy their deepest hunger.

I don’t know how many of you may have seen the movie City Slickers in which the character played by comedian Billy Crystal is visiting his son’s school to tell about his work. He’s a salesman, but obviously he doesn’t find any fulfillment in it or in his life in general. Listen as he unloads on the bewildered students:

“Value this time in your life, kids, because this is the time in your life when you still have your choices. It goes by fast.

“When you’re a teenager, you think you can do anything and you do. Your twenties are a blur.

“Thirties you raise your family, you make a little money, and you think to yourself, ‘What happened to my twenties?’

“Forties, you grow a little pot belly, you grow another chin. The music starts to get too loud, one of your old girlfriends from high school becomes a grandmother.

“Fifties, you have a minor surgery you’ll call it a procedure, but it’s a surgery.

“Sixties, you’ll have a major surgery, the music is still loud, but it doesn’t matter because you can’t hear it anyway.

“Seventies, you and the wife retire to Fort Lauderdale. You start eating dinner at 2:00 in the afternoon, you have lunch around 10:00, breakfast the night before, spend most of your time wandering around malls looking for the ultimate soft yogurt and muttering, ‘How come the kids don’t call? How come the kids don’t call?’

Then he turns to the children and asks, “Any questions?”

And the real question is, “Is that all there is?” Is that it? And the answer is that without Christ, that really is all there is.

Ralph Barton was an outstanding cartoonist who discovered that even fame and fortune were not enough. He left this note pinned to his pillow before taking his own life: “I have had few difficulties, many friends, great successes; I have gone from wife to wife, from house to house, visited great countries of the world, but I am fed up with inventing devices to fill up twenty-four hours of the day.”

Even writer Ernest Hemingway who truly had it all could not cope with the meaninglessness of his own life. He could write the beautiful six-word memoir that we began this message with, but he could not face life. On July 2, 1961 at 5:00 in the morning, he died as a result of a self-inflicted gunshot.

“Is that all there is?” Is this all there is? And the answer is that without Christ, this really is all there is. No wonder people seek to lose themselves in their work, lose themselves in meaningless recreation, lose themselves in drugs and alcohol. If that is all there is, life is hardly worth the effort. But that is not all there is. “To live is Christ,” said St. Paul. As someone has said, “Life without Christ is a hopeless end, but with Christ, it’s an endless hope.”
In his book, The Pursuit of Happiness, David Myers surveys all the research that’s been done on happiness. He looks at money, power, fame and all the other things the world calls us to follow. In the end, he concludes that the happiest people are those who are active in their church and some form of social ministry serving others. That doesn’t surprise me at all. “To live is Christ.”

But what about that second four-word memoir: “To die is gain”? That requires a greater faith. We rarely talk about the eternal dimension of our faith, except at Easter. Yet it is an integral part of what it means to follow Jesus.

Here St. Paul’s faith shines through once again. Listen to his words, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.”

St. Paul couldn’t lose. If he lived, he could continue sharing his faith in Christ, If he died, he knew he would be going home to be with Christ win/win.

It’s like a story that is told about evangelist Dwight L. Moody. Moody was traveling by boat on one of the Great Lakes when a really bad storm developed. The other passengers on the boat cowered in fear. They even started an impromptu prayer meeting asking God to deliver them from the storm. Moody didn’t join in this prayer meeting. When asked why not, he answered with these words, “I have a sister in Chicago and one in heaven and I don’t care which I see tonight.”

That is basically what St. Paul is saying. “To live is Christ . . . there is much yet to be done.” However, “to die is gain . . . I’m going home to be with Christ.”

Pastor Dan Mangler tells an old fable from Holland about three tulip bulbs. These bulbs were named NO, MAYBE, and YES. Someone had placed them in the bottom of a tin to save them until planting time. One day they were discussing their future as tulip bulbs.

NO said, “As far as I am concerned, this is it. We have come as far as we are going to come as bulbs. That’s all right. I’m content. I don’t need anything else.”

MAYBE said, “Well, maybe there is something more. Perhaps if we try real hard good things will happen to us.” And MAYBE tried hard to be all that he could be but little changed and soon he gave up in frustration.

YES, on the other hand said, “I believe there is something more, but I don’t believe that it is up to us. I have heard that there is One who can help us be more than we are if we simply trust him.”

One day a hand reached down into the tin to select bulbs for planting. NO and MAYBE shrank back but YES gladly gave himself into the hand of the gardener. He could scarcely believe what was happening when he was buried underneath a mound of dirt. But when the springtime came YES burst forth in radiant color. He was now a beautiful flower.

In my mind, that little fable deals with both dimensions of our faith. When we surrender our lives to the Master Gardener or, using the language of St. Paul, when we die to the world and are made alive to the Spirit, our lives become a beautiful flower in this world. On the other hand, even when this life is over and our bodies join the dust of the earth, we shall be even more beautiful than before. “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”

If you and I were to sum up our life in a six or eight-word memoir, how would it read?

One writer suggests that our memoirs would be quite different from St. Paul’s. “To live is to be entertained, to die is to miss all the fun.”

“To live is all of the things I want, to die is to lose it all.”

“To live is to be in the best of health, to die is to lose my life, what now?”

It is a sobering thought. It sort of sums up what we said earlier, Without Christ, why bother? Could we sum up our lives in the way St. Paul summed up his? “To live is Christ; to die is gain.”