Buying Green Bananas

 

It was Boxing Day, 2007. I had stayed overnight at my parents’ house after our Christmas Day family dinner, because Boxing Day happens to be my Dad’s birthday; and in 2007 we were celebrating his 70th birthday.

On the morning of his birthday, as I ate my cereal at their table, my Dad wandered into the kitchen for his breakfast; so I sang, “Happy Birthday to you…” and I asked him how he liked being 70. “Well,” he said, “I guess I better not buy anymore green bananas.” “WHAT??” I had no clue what that meant!

 

“Well,” he said, “the Bible says that after 70 years you’re living on borrowed time; if I buy green bananas, you never know: I may not be around long enough for them to ripen.” Now, I was already an ordained Minister for about two years by then, so I demanded to know where exactly in the Bible it says that after 70 we’re living on borrowed time. And, here it is, in verse 10 of Psalm 90: “The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps 80, if we are strong; even then their span is only toil and trouble.”

 

I laughed so hard when he said that; but in the 10 years since my Dad uttered those words, I’ve learned the truth of what he was saying then – that we all are living on borrowed time, that our human life is fragile, and because of that, it’s very precious; and I’ve learned the truth of the words that follow in verse 12 – that as we learn to count our days, we gain a wise heart. As we learn to live in the moment and value each precious day as the gift that it is, we find a certain inner peace and spiritual maturity.

 

There’s no denying that 70 or 80 years is a good lifespan, although now with modern medicine many more people are living well into their 90s or more, and are healthy and active and productive well into their senior years. But as much as we would all like to live long, healthy lives, it does not come without its cost. I’ve observed many people who have lived into their nineties, and long life can bring great joy and love as they watch the next generations being born and growing up; but it often comes with its share of toil and trouble as well. The writer of Psalm 90 had lived a long life, a meaningful life, and had experienced his own share of toil and trouble. 

 

Psalm 90 is traditionally attributed to Moses as a prayer that he uttered as he led the people of Israel through the desert, out of Egypt toward the Promised Land, a journey he took during the final 40 years of his life. Moses is known as the one person in history who has spoken face to face with God and survived. When God spoke directly to the Hebrew people at the foot of Mount Sinai they were overcome with fear, and demanded that only Moses speak with God: “Do not have God speak to us or we will die!” (Exodus 20:19). Seeing the face of God brought them sheer terror.

 

But Moses himself continued to meet face to face with God and to share God’s words with the people. So he knew, firsthand, of God’s power and might. And that sense of God’s terrifying presence is reflected in the words of Psalm 90. Here, in this prayer of Moses, he is confessing how small we humans are in the presence of God; he is confessing our imperfection in contrast to God’s perfection; our mortality in contrast to God’s infinite, eternal nature. 

 

Our smallness compared to God’s power and might is a recurring testimony of those in the Bible who have known God very closely. David, in Psalm 8 which we heard just a few weeks ago, says “what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you even care for them?’ 

 

And Job, who dared to demand an answer from God for his suffering, was chastened by God, who said: “And…where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations? And on what were its footings set; and who laid the cornerstone? Who shut up the sea behind doors? And tell me, what is the way to the abode of light? And where does the darkness reside?” (Job 38) Do you know, you who would make this demand of me??

 

Job responds to this chastening by saying, “I know that you can do all things; …My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you, therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42: 2, 5-6).

 

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,” Proverbs 9:10. And Moses writes “Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a wise heart.” Psalm 90, along with so many other Old Testament passages, shows us who God is – the one who was before the mountains; the one who can tell mortals to ‘return to dust;’ the one who can set our iniquities before us; the one who is due our fear – and it shows us this, not just to make us feel horrible about ourselves, but for the sake of our growth in wisdom.

 

It’s no longer fashionable to talk of the fear of the Lord, not even in churches. We like to talk about the love of God, and the grace of God, but the fear of God is not something we like to think about. Because the truth is, deep inside, we’re all too aware of the frailty of our human lives, aren’t we? And we try to act as though we’re not afraid, that we’re in control, that we’re important; because we know the fear that maybe our lives really are dust that can be swept away in the sleep of death. So we talk about God’s love, but not about His holiness; we want to talk about His grace, but not about His terrifying power.

 

But we will never be able to truly understand and appreciate the true depth of God’s love and grace and forgiveness and care and protection and providence, until we have a solid grasp on His sovereignty, his holiness, his power and his might. 

 

From a fairly young age I had an awareness of the fragility of human life, of my own life; I innately knew that my time on earth would pass quickly, and that I’d only have one shot at it. At times I have been driven by a desire to make my life count for something, to prove my value as a human being, not really content with the idea that I have infinite value simply by virtue of the fact that Jesus died for me! No, I can do better than that!  And in my drive to “make the most of my life,” I’ve also made some really big and stupid mistakes! If I’d started with the fear of the Lord, I may have acted more wisely!

 

But over the years, I have seen up close in my own life and in the lives of those to whom I’ve ministered the fragility of human life, and many of you probably have too. We’ve seen seemingly healthy loved ones diagnosed with terminal illnesses; we’ve been blindsided by a sudden death – an accident or unexpected health crisis that took someone we love before we were able to say goodbye. We’ve experienced circumstances that have changed our lives in the blink of an eye.

 

I talk about these things, not to be morbid, but because these are the kinds of things that happen in our lives that teach us to number our days; that make us realize how precious life really is; and that is when we gain a wise heart. It’s when we grow spiritually; it’s when we come to know the true presence of God.

 

I’m sure many (if not all) of you have experienced events in your own life that have taught you how precious life is; maybe, like me, it was the death of someone close to you; or maybe an illness that could have ended badly, but you recovered and learned to appreciate life that much more; maybe an accident, or an injury that altered your quality of life, and you had to learn to focus on what you CAN do, rather than what you can’t do.

 

When I discerned that I was being called to ministry, I intentionally sought out mentors who would specifically “teach me to count my days that I might gain a wise heart.” I turned to experienced ministers who I respected and admired, who had dedicated their lives to ministry, who were building a legacy of service and of godly wisdom. One of them was the chaplain of the Palliative Care Unit at Princess Margaret Hospital, and I spent eight months as a student chaplain in that Unit, learning to count my days. This mentor, and many others, spoke to me of their own toils and troubles, and of how they learned to trust in God through it all.

 

I learned a lot through my early mentors, but one of the most important things I learned was that they are human too, sinners, fragile, fallible, mortal. I still believe that mentors are important and I still have two or three who I turn to for insight and wisdom; but no mentor can ever replace a close, personal walk with God.

 

God often uses the toils and troubles of our lives to teach us to count our days; but it is in the midst of those toils and troubles that God also teaches us that He is our dwelling place from generation to generation. Those are the times when we experience God as our safe refuge, our warm and comforting place to fall, our strength that never fails, because He is “from everlasting to everlasting.” Don’t get me wrong: God does not cause our troubles for that purpose, but when troubles come – and they surely do for all of us - God is with us and He uses them to teach us about ourselves, about our sin, about our lives, about what is important, and especially about who God is.

 

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” It is the beginning, but it is not the end. Because once God shows us who He is, and once we come to that place of awe and fear, God turns to us and says, “Fear Not, for I am with you.” God shows us who He is and we tremble, but then He says, “fear not, for I will deliver you, I will provide for you, I will save you even from the grip of death.” This God who has so much power over the earth, over light and darkness, over life and death is on our side!

 

The great preacher Charles Spurgeon wrote that in this Psalm, “Moses sings of the frailty of man, and the shortness of life, contrasting therewith the eternity of God, and founding thereon earnest appeals for compassion.” The confidence that Moses had to turn to the God who has the kind of power and might that this Psalm proclaims comes from personal experience of walking with God…conversing with God in solitude on the mountain, seeing God’s power in the burning bush that was not consumed.

 

But this confidence also comes from the experiences of the elder generations who have shared their stories, who have passed on their faith. Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob, Joseph, and 400 years of generations who have told their children and grandchildren about God’s strength and faithfulness and how He had helped them endure through toil and trouble while in slavery in Egypt.

 

These are the words of prayer of one who has been wandering in the desert, leading the nation of Israel, not knowing where they were going, asking the people to trust and follow him, and knowing that his only strength and wisdom can come from the almighty and everlasting God; this confidence is based on his knowledge of how God faithfully led all those previous generations.

 

And while we must acknowledge God could sweep us away, and consume us in His anger, yet Moses demonstrates that it is that same powerful and mighty God who we can turn to for protection; it is that same God who chooses to give us life; it is that same God who we can turn to and count on for guidance and wisdom.

 

After recounting all of God’s power and might, mostly in fearful terms, we then come to verse 12, which is such a lovely verse of humility and trust – the kind of supplication that we would ask of a parent, someone who we know cares about us and has our best interest at heart: “Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a wise heart.”

 

God was their dwelling place throughout the generations, from Abraham, for 400 years of slavery in Egypt, and now for 40 more years as they wandered in the desert because God had promised to lead them to their own land. So they entrusted their days to the hands of an Almighty God; they went out, and they bought those green bananas! I had no clue what it meant when my Dad first said those words, but buying green bananas is about trusting God, putting our lives into God’s hands, come what may. It is about stepping out in daring faith, knowing that our stories of trusting God will be a blessing to future generations, even if we don’t reap the rewards; even if we never live to see the bananas ripen; still, we bought them, in faith.

 

Moses stepped out in faith based on this confidence; and though he never entered the Promised Land himself – never got to eat his green bananas! – yet he was blessed for having stepped out in faith, for having walked with God through the desert; and generations to follow, right up to now – those of us sitting here this morning – have been blessed by his act of faith, faith that the God who has power over the mountains, who has the power to bring the earth into form, who has power over time, who has power over life and death; that this God would teach him, would go with him, would sustain him, and would show him the way.

 

The events of our lives that demonstrate its fragility also demonstrate God’s unfailing strength and compassion. Once we understand that God has the power to bring the earth into creation, and the power to brush us away like dust, then knowing that He loves us, and forgives us, and provides for us, and protects us suddenly becomes truly amazing. It suddenly conquers all of our fears! What do we have to fear if this is the God who has called us His own??

 

Knowing this, we can – with every confidence – live our lives to the fullest; we can pursue our dreams, we can dare to love others, we can go out and buy those green bananas, because our lives are in the hands of the one who is our dwelling place from generation to generation; the One who is God, from everlasting to everlasting.

 

My Dad will turn 80 next month. It’s been a rough ten years for him. Six months after his 70th birthday, his firstborn son was diagnosed with terminal cancer. In those ten years he’s lost uncles and aunts, and sisters and friends; he lost his son, and then his wife; and now – even more than on Boxing Day 2007 – he knows about the fragility of human life, and you can see it in his eyes. 

 

I was talking to him the other day, and reminded him of this story from his 70^th birthday. Well, he said, I still buy green bananas. And so he should…so should we all. Never lose hope for tomorrow. Dare to trust in the one who is from everlasting to everlasting, and who holds all of our tomorrows in His hands. Amen.