Very often we miss the big picture because we have small things that we’ve made big. So we can’t see what’s really big. We can’t see what’s really true. We can’t see what’s really meaningful because we’ve placed our meaning in other things. We have our smallness masquerading as bigness and it blinds us to the truth of what really matters.

This morning “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.” Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats at the last judgment is a compelling call to open our hearts and our eyes to see Christ in those among us whom society considers least.

Perhaps farmers, those living close to creation, to the heartbeat of life, have a deep understanding that permanency, control, and security are illusions. They trust the land enough to keep going, but they know much of their life is just not in their control. Perhaps more than others they know that the world is not ours. We did not create it and we are in control of neither growth nor harvest.

Although endings and death seem to surround us, the story of Jesus' resurrection reminds us that there is a good word in the graveyard. The promise of Jesus' resurrection declares that where there seems to be only endings and death there can be beginnings and life.

A river is flowing. River of life and love that carries us along in her current, drawing us close, then propelling us beyond, spreading us wide; flowing steady, deep and dark, or tumbling, churning o’er the rapids; irresistible and eternal in her flow.

From the human perspective, the arc of justice and the transformation of the world can seem so long and bend so gently that we lose sight of what is on the horizon. Events ranging from terrorist attacks to American political campaigns suggest a devolution, not the opposite. And love? From the human perspective, it can seem too partial, so imperfect and fragile. We can be lost in the egocentrism of love, losing sight of its transforming energy. It’s hard to fathom the full fire of God’s love. Yet it is the fact that God so loves the world…loves us…that creates the very possibility for us loving at all.

The words of the Book of Genesis remind us that the world is given into our care, which means that we are given the freedom to see the world as a resource and commodity for us to exploit, and the freedom to see the world as a gift that reveals the love of God, a gift for us to hold and cherish for this brief moment of our lives, to nurture and care for it, and to pass it along for our children’s children. We are stewards, caregivers, and midwives for the next generation.

From the time Adam and Eve decided apples were on the menu we have been self-centered, have had an urge to put ourselves in God’s place. We have read Scripture as if we were the main character—using it as evidence that we are the most important things in the world. We have mostly ignored the Book of Nature with its breathtaking array of life—of God’s other beloved. We have ignored the creation story other creatures might tell.

We were never meant to be owners, just beloved sharecroppers. It is not the American Way, but it is the Kingdom Way. A way of tending, watering, nurturing, giving glory to God and giving self away in a harvest of love filled lives that will take your breath away.

Some Christians think we are called to be admirers of Jesus Christ. “Boy that Jesus, what a guy! He was courageous and committed and kind, and he gave his life for us!” All of which is true. Except Jesus never said, “admire me.” Jesus said, “Follow me. Do what I do.” That is our authority and I think we come to church to reminded of that fact and equipped to live it out, in the world, Monday through Saturday.