Thanksgiving Day
Be a Squirrel
Nov. 26, 2009
There is a lot of talk in Church circles about Dog and cat theology. Lenard Sweet at e-sermons have brought a new twist to Dog and Cat theology that has captured my imagination
“Dog Theology” goes like this: “You feed me. You pet me. You shelter me. You love me. You must be God!”
“Cat Theology” goes like this: “You feed me. You pet me. You shelter me. You love me. I must be God.”
Lenard Sweet talks about a 3rd type, Squirrel theology. The way squirrels live their lives puts them on a different theological plane than dogs or cats?
First, consider that squirrels are so good at what they do they have generated a whole anti-squirrel industry — the manufacture of “squirrel-proof” bird feeders. If you have ever attempted to feed just birds and not squirrels from your backyard feeder, you know that no one has yet succeeded in creating a truly “squirrel-proof” feeder. Products designed to Baffle don’t baffle them for long. Weighted feeding slots don’t get them discouraged.
Squirrels aren’t rocket scientists. But they use all their squirrely attributes to get to the prize. They dig in with their toes. They balance on precarious perches. They use their tails like anchors. They use their front paws like a surgeon’s skilled hands. The squirrel’s tactics aren’t necessarily perfect, but they are always persistent.
All squirrels antics are centered on a single-minded purpose. NUTS! And because of that single-minded purpose, they find joy in every moment as though it is the only one that matters. By the way, I think the 4-letter words NUTS is an acronym for Never Underestimate The Squirrel.
This Thanksgiving I want to drive you NUTS . . . so you will live a NUTS Life . . . a life that is singularly focused. A life that uses every gift you have.
In our Thanksgiving Day gospel text, Jesus reminds his listeners that they too must get their priorities straight. As Jesus spoke to the poor, to the simple day laborers who eked out a living on a daily denarius, he was keenly aware of the realities they faced. They needed to work, and work hard, just to keep food on the table, and a roof over their heads.
Jesus’ words don’t belittle the hard-scrabble existence of the people. Instead Jesus reminds them of how divinely graced and gifted they are. Jesus insists that there is so much more to their lives than the quest for physical essentials. As children of God, firm in the faith that all aspects of life are in the hands of the “heavenly Father,” our first priority is to strive “for the kingdom of God and his righteousness” (Mt. 6:33).
That is our essential “squirreliness” — that which sets us apart from other creatures and from all those who find the focus of their lives centered on “things.” We are not called to be mere consumers of stuff — the “goods and services” that keep our economy afloat. We are called to keep discovering God’s righteousness, God’s intentions for ourselves and our world, in all that we do, and say, and experience.
With our eyes on the prize, Christians will exhibit a lot of behaviors the world will find just plain “squirrelly” — and that is a good thing!
Squirrels delight in going “out on a limb.” Confident in their God-given gifts, strong claws for climbing, a long tail for balance, an eye for perfectly gauging distances, they are comfortable and unconcerned perched on the tippy-end of a tiny branch. Forty or fifty feet in the air, clinging to a scrawny twig, the squirrel enjoys the view and the winds that ruffle its fur.
Followers of Christ will find themselves “out on a limb” from time to time. What helps to bring in the kingdom and reveal God’s righteousness isn’t always the most popular stance. Seeking God’s kingdom may put you in a precarious position — at work, at school, in the community.
Squirrels are very intentional in their gathering behavior. When searching for nuts or seeds they will traverse the ground carefully, scouring every inch, rooting under every fallen leaf, overturning stones, digging in the earth. If our priority is the kingdom of God our intentionality needs to be just as exhaustive. We are to take our witness and words out into the community and the world.
We need to be very intentional about our asking and inviting those
who have not heard the good news,
who have given up hope,
who have slipped between the cracks,
who are hidden under heavy weights.
There is no place we cannot find the kernels of God’s kingdom.
Being a squirrel means expending a lot of energy in order to achieve the goal of gathering. We too need to be energized, to be up and doing what God has called us to do. Squirrels do not grow weary in well-doing. They don’t take time off to sleep in on Sunday morning. Squirrels don’t just blow off meetings or commitments because they are tired or bored or depressed. Resting when possible, but always working towards the final goal, that is “squirreliness.”
There are always lean times. Squirrels sense the approach of winter even on the warmest summer day.
But we are a different kind of creature from the squirrel. Jesus reminded his followers that they need to lay up treasures “in heaven.” The fullness of God’s grace, the abundance of God’s love, is always available. But we can also stockpile those spiritual gifts for times of crisis and concern. The comfort of prayer, communion and communication with the divine, is a daily discipline. It builds up a repository of peace and purposefulness for those days when we are faced with hurts or horrors that challenge and chill us. Squirrels methodically (but quite oblivious to worry) squirrel away nuts over the fall, so that they won’t have to worry in the winter…..and they don’t, because they know exactly where their “food source” is hidden. If we were to as methodically approach our spiritual disciplines and grow the stash of our intimacy and relationship with God, we wouldn’t be worrying about what happens next….
Have you ever watched a squirrel stuff their cheeks so full of nuts or seeds or berries that each trip to their storehouse is a major bonanza. Squirrels don’t just pick up one little nut at a time, they stuff as much as they can in their cheeks. “Multi-tasking” isn’t just listening to music while doing homework, or dictating a memo while commuting to work. Multi-tasking is finding many ways to bring the kingdom to many different kinds of people. Multi-tasking is attending Sunday worship, but also participating in a coffee shop ministry, babysitting for a single parent, creating a community garden.
Thanksgiving is a wonderfully squirrely holiday. It may not be officially winter according to the solstice, but it is already plenty cold. Snow is on the ground in many places, and the “harvest” we are supposedly celebrating is actually long past. Any one with any sense would find late November a prime time to start rationing supplies, cutting down on excesses, hunkering in the bunker as the cold winds start to whip about.
But what do we do? Pull out all the stops? Load up our platters? Put in hours of hard work to produce a feast for all?
Just as money becomes tighter, we take a day off from our work and instead spend time and money to travel in order to be with our families and friends. In the face of November’s barren trees and bleak forecasts, we offer thanks to God for the gifts of grace and abundance and love that we receive every day.
Now that is squirrely!
Every now and then, admittedly not very often, one of those “author unknown” stories passed around on the Internet as chain mails turns out to be true. When I first read this one entitled “The Day I Met Daniel” I dismissed it as another urban legend e-rumor.
But I couldn’t get the story out of my head. So I checked it out on snopes.com, and much to my surprise this credentialing site rates the story as true, after speaking directly to the author (http:www.snopes.com/glurge/Daniel.asp). Originally written in 1995 by Indiana pastor Richard Ryan, it appeared in “A Third Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul.”
Here is the story in its entirety, the story of someone named Daniel, a Johnny Appleseed figure who had squirrely priorities about what it means to “seek first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto you.”
It was an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and everything was alive with color but a cold front from the North had brought winter’s chill back to Indiana. I sat, with two friends, in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town-square. The food and the company were both especially good that day. As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street. There, walking into town was a man who appeared to be carrying all his worldly goods on his back. He was carrying, a well-worn sign that read, ‘I will work for food.’ My heart sank. I brought him to the attention of my friends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief.
We continued with our meal, but his image lingered in my mind. We finished our meal and went our separate ways. I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made some purchases at a store and got back in my car. Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: ‘Don’t go back to the office until you’ve at least driven once more around the square.’ Then with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As I turned the square’s third corner, I saw him. He was standing on the steps of the store front church, going through his sack. I stopped and looked; feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: an invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the town’s newest visitor. ‘Looking for the pastor?’ I asked. ‘Not really,’ he replied, ‘just resting.’ ‘Have you eaten today?’
‘Oh, I ate something early this morning.’ ‘Would you like to have lunch with me?’ ‘Do you have some work I could do for you?’ ‘No work,’ I replied ‘I commute here to work from the city, but I would like to take you to lunch.’ ‘Sure,’ he replied with a smile. As he began to gather his things, I asked some surface questions. ‘Where you headed?’ ‘St. Louis.’
‘Where you from?’ ‘Oh, all over; mostly Florida.’ ‘How long you been walking?’ ‘Fourteen years,’ came the reply. I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the same restaurant I had left earlier. His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a bright red T-shirt that said, ‘Jesus is The Never Ending Story.’ Then, Daniel’s story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life. He’d made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences. Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought. He was hired, but the tent would not house a concert but revival services, and in those services he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God ‘Nothing’s been the same since,’ he said, ‘I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now.’ ‘Ever think of stopping?’ I asked.
‘Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me but God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles, that’s what’s in my sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads.’ I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then I asked: ‘What’s it like?’ ‘What?’ ‘To walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your sign?’ ‘Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn’t make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people’s concepts of other folks like me.’ My concept was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered his things. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and said, ‘Come Ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I’ve prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in.’
I felt as if we were on holy ground. ‘Could you use another Bible?’ I asked. He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not too heavy. It was also his personal favorite. ‘I’ve read through it 14 times,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure we’ve got one of those, but let’s stop by our church and see’. I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed very grateful. ‘Where are you headed from here?’ I asked. ‘Well, I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon.’ ‘Are you hoping to hire on there for awhile?’ ‘No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that’s where I’m going next.’ He smiled, and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. I drove him back to the town-square where we’d met two hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. We parked and unloaded his things.
‘Would you sign my autograph book?’ he asked. ‘I like to keep messages from folks I meet.’
I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life. I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of scripture from Jeremiah, ‘I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you; Plans to give you a future and a hope.’ ‘Thanks, man,’ he said. ‘I know we just met and we’re really just strangers, but I love you.’ ‘I know,’ I said, ‘I love you, too.’ ‘The Lord is good!’
‘Yes, He is. How long has it been since someone hugged you?’ I asked. A long time,’ he replied And so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed. He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, ‘See you in the New Jerusalem.’
‘I’ll be there!’ was my reply. He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his bedroll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned and said, ‘When you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?’
‘You bet,’ I shouted back, ‘God bless you, Daniel, wherever your feet take you.’ ‘God bless,’ he said. And that was the last I saw of him. Late that evening as I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car. As I sat back and reached for the emergency brake, I saw them…. a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them. Then I remembered his words; “If you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?”
Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.
*Many of the ideas for this sermon came from a sermon by Mike Topham, Pastor of the Des Arc First United Methodist Church, Des Arc, Arkansas. It was entitled “We Now Have Squirrels At the United Methodist Church.”
I love the Squirrel Theology concept. I love the thought that in a natural season of sacristy with winter closing in on us we are celebrating abundance. The squirrel’s single minded focus and great joy in that focus is a life lesson as is Daniel who appears to be one thing and turns out to be an ambassador of God. Doesn’t God work just like that. My hopes and prayers for a thanksgiving and Holy season of abundance.
In the name of God.
This sermon is adapted from e-sermon’s Lenard Sweet.
