Is 39

20 June 2010

Hammondsport Baccalaureate service

 

“Legacy”

 

          Once upon a time, there was a king whose name was Hezekiah.  (Actually, in this case, “once upon a time” means 27 centuries ago!)  Hezekiah ruled over the kingdom of Judah.  He was a good king, but like anyone else, he wasn’t without his flaws.

          Let me give you an example.  One day, some ambassadors from Babylon arrive, and they present themselves before him.  And they come bearing gifts.  So they not only present their presence, they also present their presents.  They say that their ruler has sent them, because he heard that Hezekiah recently recovered from illness.  (That really is true; Hezekiah was as sick as a dog.)

          So what does our good king do?  Does he send his visitors home with his heartfelt thanks?  You might say that, but he only does so after he takes them on a little tour.

          But before we get to the tour, let me confess that I’m about to do something that you should never do—and that is, I’m going to read Hezekiah’s mind.  A great deal of miscommunication happens when we assume that we know what someone else is thinking.  And you know what they say happens when we assume?  (I won’t go into it now; you can ask me later!)

          So, here is what Hezekiah is thinking!  “I guess these Babylonian boys are used to the finer things in life.  Well, I’ll show them that we’re not a pack of desert nomads.  We have a little coin ourselves.  We have some bling.  I’ll see if I can get those jaws dropping open!”  As the scripture says, he shows them “his treasure house, the silver, the gold, the spices, the precious oil, his whole armory, all that [is] found in his storehouses” (v. 2).

          So, that’s the end of that!  Well, not yet.  Our dear king gets another visit.  This time, it’s from the prophet Isaiah.  He wants to know who those fellows were and what they were up to.  “Don’t worry about it,” Hezekiah says.  “They came from a distant land—Babylon.  They just wanted to pay their respects.”

          Isaiah thinks there’s more to it than that.  “Did you take them for a tour?  Show them around?  Make sure they had a good time?”  The king is wondering what Isaiah’s deal is.  (Remember, I’m doing my mind reading!)  “As a matter of fact, I did!  What kind of host would I be if I didn’t try to ‘wow’ them?”

          It seems that I’m not the only one to get that impression.  Eugene Peterson, in his paraphrase of the Bible called The Message, has Hezekiah say this:  I showed them the works, opened all the doors and impressed them with it all” (v. 4).

          The prophet says, “You know, your highness, that wasn’t a good idea.  You just put us on their radar.  In fact, the day will come when all of that stuff you showed them will be stolen.”  And as verse 7 puts it, “Some of your own sons who are born to you shall be taken away; they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.”  (And maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think those guys will volunteer for the chopping procedure necessary to make them eunuchs!)

          I also don’t think Isaiah expects this response from Hezekiah:  “Oh that’s cool.  I’ll be dead and gone before all that stuff happens anyway.”  Granted, he doesn’t put it in those terms, but that’s what he means.

          Let me ask you a question.  Is there something wrong with this picture?

          The king has just been told that, partly due to his own actions, some really bad things are on the way.  Isaiah says that this is what the Lord has told him.  But even besides that, we could arguably make the case that common sense should be a warning.  As it is, the chapter ends with his saying, “There will be peace and security in my days” (v. 8).  And again, Eugene Peterson:  surely nothing bad will happen in my lifetime.  I’ll enjoy peace and stability as long as I live.”

          It’s not much of a stretch to conclude that he’s content to let following generations clean up the mess.

Here’s another question.  Does this side of Hezekiah ever appear in us?  Are we content to say, “Forget about it.  I’ll let somebody deal with it later on!”

Or how about this—can I get a show of hands?  Has anyone here ever broken something, and then put it back in place, so that it looks okay?  And then, when somebody else comes along and barely touches it, it falls apart?

Granted, this isn’t what Hezekiah does, but there is a similarity.  There’s the same willingness to disregard the future—to not think or not care about what happens after we’ve done our business.  And taking this to a grand scale, there’s the same willingness to leave the world in worse shape than we found it—to let that be our legacy.

Graduation from high school is one of those key turning points in our lives.  It’s also one of those times in which the future has a central focus.  Some of you already may be tired of answering the question, “What are you going to do now?”

In reality, life itself is but a series of graduations.  Not all of them are clothed with the ritual of high school graduation, but they all have in common the sense of every ending being a new beginning.  Actually, we can say the same thing about every moment in life.

In thinking about the less noble side of Hezekiah, we can be tempted to say to our elders (depending on one’s age, that can vary widely!), “Gee, thanks for the mess you left us to clean up!”  Here’s a warning about that rather cynical approach to life:  there will always be those who look to you as their elders, and they could say the same thing!

I find it interesting that our story ends with Hezekiah’s statement.  That’s it.  It’s not followed by any criticism—unless you figure that he incriminates himself by the words of his own mouth.  We could assume that Isaiah gives him a disapproving look.  (But then, remember what I said about assuming!)

We can see Hezekiah’s story as open-ended.  There are all kinds of “what ifs.”  What if Hezekiah makes a different choice?  Of course, for us, this is “once upon a time.”  For us, his story means looking back into what has already come and gone.

Our story is open-ended.  The story of everyone here is open-ended.  One day, you and I will be the “once upon a time” for someone else.  What will be our legacy?  Don’t give up on the future.  Our God is a God of the future.  As it says in Revelation 21, our God is the one who is “making all things new” (v. 5).

So, graduates, remember that our story—your story—is still being written.  Believe in the future.  Don’t yield to the temptation of cynicism, of just giving up.  The future is calling your name.  How will you answer?