WITHOUT YOU

A Sermon by Bill McDonald from Psalm 16

March 30, 2008

Psalm 16

¹ Protect me, O God, for in you I take refuge.

² I say to the LORD, “You are my Lord;

I have no good apart from you.”

³ As for the holy ones in the land, they are the noble,

in whom is all my delight.

⁴ Those who choose another god multiply their sorrows;

their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out

or take their names upon my lips.

⁵ The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup;

you hold my lot.

⁶ The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

I have a goodly heritage.

⁷ I bless the LORD who gives me counsel;

in the night also my heart instructs me.

⁸ I keep the LORD always before me;

because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.

⁹ Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices;

my body also rests secure.

¹⁰ For you do not give me up to Sheol,

or let your faithful one see the Pit.

¹¹ You show me the path of life.

In your presence there is fullness of joy;

in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Have you ever tried to scoop a handful of cold, crystal water from a mountain stream and hold it up to your eyes to examine it? What happens? It’s gone before you get a good look. All that’s left is a wet hand. Have you ever plucked a perfectly round dandelion seedhead on a windy day, wanting to look at how the tiny stems fasten to the base and how the white filaments spread out from that stem to make a perfect curved surface? But just the motion of pulling the dandelion jars the perfection into tiny airborne parachutes, leaving ragged gaps. It is so hard to hold incredible beauty, to get close to absolute perfection. I mean, last week was Easter Sunday and we had God right here—right in our hands, right in front of our faces. How long did that last for you? Did that awareness last all week? Or did the cultural powers and principalities pull us away like the attention span of a pre-teen or a ditzy friend?

You know how it goes. You say, “Let’s all go out to dinner Abuelos at six.” The whole family or the whole gang of friends says, “Yeah, that sounds great!” You are proud of yourself for coming up with a plan so unanimously and enthusiastically received. You make reservations. At six o’clock though, one of them has just stepped into the shower. Another one says, “Let’s go to a movie instead.” Another says, “I’m not hungry right now.” Another is now involved with a sitcom on TV. For a time you had them all together, focused, united. Then, sadly, other things called them away.

Is this what the psalmist is saying? “You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you, oh, wait, I’ve got to go pick out something to wear to the wedding or to the prom. Wait a minute, Lord, I’ve got to check the stock market results, get back to you soon. You are my everything, Lord, but, man, I hope my basketball brackets hold up. I’ll spend eight hours in front of the TV today watching the games, but I may be too tired to come to worship tomorrow. You understand, don’t you, Lord?”

And a song comes to mind. Written by the crudely named band, Badfinger, and recorded in 1971 by Nilsson and in 1994 by Mariah Carey, it depicts that constant love/rejection relationship which we seem to have with God. We sing to God:

Well, I can't forget this evening
And your face when you were leaving
But I guess that's just the way the story goes
You always smile, but in your eyes your sorrow shows
Yes, it shows

Well, I can't forget tomorrow
When I think of all my sorrow
I had you there, but then I let you go
And now it's only fair that I should let you know
What you should know

I can't live, if living is without you
I can't live, I can't give anymore
I can't live, if living is without you
I can't live, I can't give anymore

Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the good life. There is so much to enjoy in this natural world and in the exciting societies we have created: from one end of the spectrum to the other, from yachts to fishing boats, from Caribbean islands to Carolina beaches, from society balls at the Marriott to dancing in front of a band at the Dame, from exquisite dinners at the Masionette to picnics on the patio, life is fun. At times I can just hear God proclaiming it all “good.” But the psalmist says that in God’s presence there is “fullness of joy.” Fullness of joy? You mean, something more than we already have? The psalmist declares, “You show me the path of life.” And my guess is that that path takes us outside self, above the world, more than skin deep, and broader than our narrow circles. Could life get more joyful than we already have it? The Bible says yes. When the Lord is our chosen portion, our cup of destiny, there are good things waiting for us to inherit beyond anything we have ever dreamed of or yearned for.

Millard Fuller’s goal was to be a millionaire before he was 30. Through obsessive work, he made it. He had wealth, prestige, a family, a huge home, success by anybody’s definition. But his marriage was falling apart, his nerves were shot, and his soul was empty. He found he couldn’t live without God; he couldn’t give anymore. In their search for truth, he and his wife Linda wound up giving away their entire fortune and starting a little home-building ministry called Habitat For Humanity. And Millard found a wealth, a richness to life, that he never even knew existed. He cast his lot with God, and God blessed him with a goodly heritage and blessed our whole planet with this incredible ministry. What does God have waiting for you, for me?

In spite of what some slick-haired, high-rolling TV preachers say, God doesn’t promise riches, but richness. God is not going to stop the decline of the dollar, but God will make us worth more than we ever thought possible. If we can just get past our on-again-off-again relationship to the Lord, if we can just quit running hot on Sunday and cool on Monday, if we can admit and sing that we “can’t live without you, Lord,” then right around the corner there is a Garden of Eden waiting that will completely amaze us.

Oh, man, was it hot. My family and I moved to Austin, Texas, in September, but where were those cool fall nights we knew in Kentucky? We sweltered through October and November; we wore shorts on Christmas Day. Then winter came…and lasted two weeks. Then came Austin’s other season for you see there are only two seasons in Austin: there is Winter and then there is Hot. Someone that spring asked if we wanted to go to Zilker Park in downtown Austin. They said there was a pool we could swim in. I didn’t want to move from in front of the air-conditioner vent. I could already feel the blistering skin and the tepid water, but you gotta be nice to new friends. When we walked through the concrete block entryway into the pool, I was hit by this fresh, cool, oxygen-rich breeze. This 3-acre natural pool was Barton Springs which pumps out 27 million gallons of water per day and the water temperature is always 68 degrees. You even had to get out of the pool frequently to warm up on a shaded, sun-speckled lawn. “Am I still in Texas?” I thought, “Where did this come from?” I didn’t know anything like this existed in sun-scorched Austin.

That’s what it is like when we choose God as our portion, our cup of destiny. God will show us a path to a life that will astound us in its beauty and blessing, in its purpose and power. We will exclaim, “I didn’t even know anything like this existed!” And as we look in the rear-view mirror, we will wonder how we found anything good apart from God, how we ever lived without the Lord.