SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 2025 - "PATIENCE"
March 9, 2025
Deborah Laforet
“Patience”
Let us pray. May the words from my lips and the meditations of my heart be guided by
your Spirit and be words of wisdom for this day. Amen.
There is a common phrase about the ‘patience of Job,’ that is used to describe those who
have lots of patience. If you’ve read the story of Job, you’ll understand as he undergoes one loss
after another, endures the comments from local theologians, guessing as to why he is suffering,
and as he struggles to understand what he has done to cause such suffering. In fact, to me he
seems to rant against this suffering and even rant against God for causing it.
But Noah is another story. God tells him to build an ark. God gives Noah very specific
specifications. God says a flood will come so do it quickly. So Noah does, without question.
He is then told that every creature that crawls will be on this ark. The numbers vary from one
part of the story to the other, but the intent is clear. God wants to make sure that all his unique
creatures survive the flood that is coming. This means, Noah is in charge of countless numbers
of creatures, from herbivores to carnivores, from creepy crawlies, to terrifying and large. He
then has to wait for the rains to stop and then for the waters to abate until they can find a dry
space to land, which again is varying lengths of time.
You might feel more flattered to be told you have the patience of Noah!
During this season of Lent, we will be exploring the Fruits of the Spirit: patience,
faithfulness, generosity, kindness, gentleness, self-control, and, on the last Sunday, Easter
Sunday, love, joy and peace. Each Sunday we will focus on a fruit as well. This Sunday, is the
apple because apples require patience as they take a long time to grow, with the harvest
occurring in the fall. The hope is that on Easter Sunday, we can plan on having an fruit salad.
So what does it mean to have patience in today’s world? Do we actually have any of it
anymore? We’re all so busy. We’ve created a world where everyone is expected to be
productive, which means working hard, making time for friends, doing good works, going to the
gym, keeping up with the news and social media, and doing it all with grace and good will. Oh,
and if you have a family you support, you’re also making sure they are productive and healthy
and doing everything society expects of them too.
It makes me think of that schoolyard equipment that you hopped on, and people pushed
you round and round until you felt like you were going to be sick, and the only way off was to
jump, scraping yourself up in the process, or yell at the people to stop spinning it. Do you
remember? I guess it’s called a roundabout, one of the several pieces of equipment that are now
deemed unsafe.
It’s no wonder people’s patience is low. If you’re in a long line, you’re wondering if
you’ll be late for your next appointment. If your child is throwing a tantrum, your instinct is to
yell at them to stop because you’re late for a meeting. You haven’t called your friend who is
struggling, because the two of you can’t find time to talk. Self-care? Mental health? Spiritual
care? Who has time?
We are a society that has our timing down to the minute, and we have little time to sit and
reflect, to create, to appreciate relationship, and even to just be bored. It’s no wonder our
children are struggling with their mental health, our elders are being set aside and forgotten,
those in need of basic necessities are neglected, and those in need of care are feeling alone and
isolated. I’m not admonishing anyone for they way they spend their time. I am critiquing a
society that spins like a ‘roundabout,’ that people can’t seem to get off without getting scraped or
begging for the spinning to stop.
Patience in a world like this becomes precious and valuable. It’s hard to feel patience
when we’re always feeling rushed or pressed for time. Lent is supposed to be a time of
reflection, a time of slowing down, and sometimes a time for fasting or giving something up,
which is often a way of being intentional and reflective of one’s life. Christianity in our part of
the world has mostly given up fasting, except in protest, but imagine planning your day like
Muslims do during Ramadan, eating before sunrise and after sunset, arranging your day to make
this work, pushing against a culture that values excessive eating, lattes and cappuccinos, lunch
meetings, and having the patience to set all that aside and focus on this spiritual practice and
your faith. It’s very difficult to imagine for some.
Patience. Waiting for someone to show up. Waiting for the coffee to brew. Waiting for a
break or fracture to heal. Waiting in line. Waiting for a new episode to drop. Waiting for spring.
Waiting for a new baby. Waiting for someone’s last breath. We spend a lot of our time waiting.
It’s what we do with that time that defines our patience. It’s what we do with moments of silence
that bring us peace. When we begin to feel a loss of that patience, it’s how we regain it by
concentrating on our breath and finding a way to regain our calm and our presence in the
moment.
This world of ours does not make it easy for us to be present in the moment. There are a
number of distractions that keep us from being grounded, that keep us centred, and that keep us
from listening to or drown out our inner wisdom. It means we have to be very intentional about
keeping the distractions to a minimum. I think this is why meditation and contemplations
practices have become so popular and so valuable to so many and why it’s being encouraged by
health professionals, faith leaders, therapists, work places, podcasters, authors, and so many
more.
We read this in psalm 131:
1 O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.
3 O Israel, hope in God,
from this time on and forevermore.
“But I have called and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with it’s mother.” Now, I
wasn’t quite sure what it meant to be like a ‘weaned child,’ but what I found was this: A child
not-yet weaned embraces their mother with the thought of food and immediate satisfaction. A
weaned child embraces their mother out of a desire for love, closeness, and companionship. So,
I’ll repeat that line: “But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its
mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.” (131:2)
Getting back to Noah, his patience paid off. He, his family, and the many creatures on
the ark finally found dry land, and God made them a promise to never again send a flood to
destroy all flesh. A bow, a rainbow, was the sign of this promise, a promise of grace, a promise
to not lose patience again. Next time, you see a rainbow, if you can, stop and reflect. Reflect on
this promise. Reflect on the beauty of the rainbow. Take a moment to breathe and to appreciate.
Be countercultural, pull the car over, if possible, and just take a moment to sit in wonder.
Patience is not automatic. It is cultivated.
May God’s presence keep us grounded in this place and this moment. May Christ and his
ministry from place to place remind us of the ministry of presence. May we slow down and
listen enough to hear the Spirit’s call to us, it's call to be patient and present to a world in need,
slowly building the kingdom of god on earth. May it be so. Amen.
Genesis 9:8-17
(Introduce yourself. - Do not move or tap microphone.)
This week, our first Sunday of Lent, I am reading a story from the first book in our
bible, Genesis, about the first promise or covenant that God made to every living
creature. The story of Noah and the Ark is well known in popular culture and is
often told as a story to children, portraying Noah on his ark with every creature of
the earth. Today we will hear God’s promise to Noah and his descendants,
promising never again to send a destructive flood. I am reading from chapter nine,
verses eight to seventeen.
Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, 9 “As for me, I am establishing
my covenant with you and your descendants after you 10 and with every living
creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the
earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. 11 I establish my covenant with
you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never
again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” 12 God said, “This is the sign of
the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with
you, for all future generations: 13 I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a
sign of the covenant between me and the earth. 14 When I bring clouds over the
earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, 15 I will remember my covenant that is
between me and you and every living creature of all flesh, and the waters shall
never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 When the bow is in the clouds, I
will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living
creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” 17 God said to Noah, “This is the sign of
the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.”
May the Spirit guide our understanding of this sacred scripture.