SermonStudio

"They have no more wine."

Burnout is an ailment from which many suffer. Some thoughts to ponder should your life be "running out of wine."

A few years ago, I was on a committee called together to organize a going away party for the Reverend Chuck White who was resigning his position as Executive Director of BAMM, Buffalo Area Metropolitan Ministries, a post he held for ten years. At the very first meeting, I made the mistake of suggesting we produce a video highlighting not only Chuck's years as a director but highlighting as well the history of the organization. I call it a mistake because the very next day I received a call to put together that video. I pleaded that I didn't have the time to do it nor did I even own a video camera. The chairperson of the committee wouldn't take no for an answer. She neutralized my one plea by volunteering her husband to be my videographer. I had no recourse but to proceed with the project.

One of the first things I did was set up interviews with all the founding fathers of BAMM, including one who had long since become a recluse. The recluse was, for me, the most interesting interview. I say that because when I started asking him about the pioneer days of BAMM, I saw him literally light up. I saw his voice change. This otherwise sullen and depressed individual became filled with excitement. It was quite a transformation. Sadly, however, at the end of the interview, all the flash and fire quickly vanished and he looked as sullen and depressed as he did at the start of the interview.

The individual I'm referring to used to epitomize flash and fire. He was a dynamic and outgoing mover and shaker back in those pioneer days of BAMM. But then, something happened. The air left his balloon. The vim and vigor and enthusiasm vanished and with it his idealism. In essence, he burned out.

Now, what happened to that founding father of BAMM is something that I've seen happen to lawyers, doctors, priests, nurses, and a good number of professionals. At the start of their professional life, they couldn't wait to practice their skills, they couldn't wait to take on the challenges and possibilities that awaited them. Then something happened and burnout set in and they no longer exhibited the enthusiasm and the idealism they once had.

It's to these individuals that I'd like to address my thoughts today. It's the subject of burnout that I'd like to talk with you about today. Mary came to Jesus in our Gospel because the people ran out of wine. I believe that it could be said that, figuratively speaking, the people I've just referred to have run out of wine; they're empty of what fueled their vitality. And just as Jesus addressed the problem at Cana with the turning of water into wine; so did he address their problem as well. For, in his teachings, there are several varieties of bottled truths which, if consumed, could provide what might be needed to rekindle the fire which may once have burned inside them. If you peruse the Gospels, you'll discover that Jesus furnished a wine cellar filled with all sorts of water turned to wine, all sorts of truths. That cellar has been stocked for the benefit of those whose lives either are running short of wine or they're out of wine completely.

One of the bottles in that cellar contains the truth of our being an imperfect people in an imperfect world. The Book of Numbers tells of the ritual of the red heifer. A heifer of extremely red skin that shows not a single discolored hair is sacrificed and its ashes are made into a paste. People who have failed, people who have made a mistake, people who are frustrated and disenchanted with their work are covered with the paste. A few prayers are said and the ritual is over.

The red heifer, an animal without a single blemish, represents perfection. The point of the ritual is to drive home the truth that perfection has no place in this world. Those covered with the paste are led to understand that perfect creatures belong in heaven and not on earth.

One of the feeders of burnout is this wrongful notion that perfection lies within our grasp, that an ideal and perfect world is just beyond our reach. This notion usually leads to our growing very disillusioned and very despondent when what we hoped to accomplish fails to get accomplished. If that's the reason we may be running out of wine, we need to get our hands on that bottle in the wine cellar containing within it the truth that perfection lies with God, that we are an imperfect people in an imperfect world.

Also in that wine cellar, Jesus placed a bottle that contains the truth of the cross, the truth that the bleakest and darkest of times can be the breeding ground for some wonderful fruit.

The great philosopher John Ruskin was one day walking along the streets of an English manufacturing town. The weather had been very wet and the mud was both abundant and tenacious. The thought occurred to him to have the mud analyzed to discover its organic elements. This was accordingly done and the black and ugly mud was found to consist of sand, clay, soot, and water.

Musing about those elements, the thought occurred to Ruskin that these are the very substances from which precious gems are formed. From the sand are formed chrysolite and jasper, from the clay are formed sapphires and emeralds, from the soot is formed the diamond, and the water is the same as that which, in the form of a dew drop, sparkles in the heart of a rose. Ruskin came to realize that, in wading through the ugly mud, he had really been splashing through a garden of jewels.

Besides this being an imperfect world, it's also a muddy world. It's not unusual to find one's best laid plans, one's high ideals, getting mired in the mud of resistance and cynicism and outright hostility. This can sap the enthusiasm and the excitement out of the best of us. What needs to be kept uppermost in one's mind is that sapphires can be had from the mud, that Easter sits on the other side of Good Friday. Although the invitation to discouragement and burnout sits out there with flashing lights, perseverance may yield jewels and victories yet unseen.

If that isn't enough wine to replenish a defeated spirit, Jesus has also placed in that wine cellar a bottle of wine containing the truth that the good we do is never wasted. Even if we never see the jewels or the victories, what we're doing is not being done in vain.

Chai Ling was the Chinese student leader in Tiananmen Square. When things looked ominous and the Chinese troops started moving in for the kill, she told her comrades the following story. "A billion ants," she said, "lived on a mountain. A fire was set at the base. It appeared that all billion of them would die. So they made themselves into a ball and they rolled down the mountain and through the fire into safety. The sad thing was that those on the surface died. My comrades, we're like those ants on the surface. Though we may die, our cause will not die." Historians predict that one day Tiananmen Square will be seen by the world not as the end of democracy in China, but as the beginning.

I'm reminded of something a mother said to her son. He was scolding her for working so hard planting a tree. "Oh, Mother," he said, "why do you work so hard? You're never going to see that tree bloom!" "No!" she said, "you're right. I won't see it bloom. But I know that someone will!"

We may never see the mud yield to sapphires. We may never see Good Friday yield to Easter. But that's not to say our work has been done in vain. That's not to say that the good we're doing is all for naught. Burnout and discouragement are very inviting because it may seem clear that we're never going to see the fruits of our labor. But what we have to keep uppermost in our minds is that although we may not see it, someone will.

Yet another bottle Jesus placed in the wine cellar is the one that has as its main ingredient a triumphant spirit. The story goes that a man sought out the great Phillips Brooks for help with a problem that had long plagued him. With careful thought he put together the finest of descriptions he could devise to explain the problem properly to Brooks. When the long anticipated day arrived for his meeting, he walked into Brooks' office and he was awestruck. For the next hour they talked. The man came out of the session transformed. His life was glorious again. He was filled with a vigor and vitality he hadn't felt in years.

When he got halfway home, it dawned on him that he had forgotten to tell Phillips Brooks about the problem that had prompted the meeting in the first place. It then dawned on him that he didn't have to, that what he really needed was not the solution to a special problem but an association with a special person. He needed to be in the presence of someone who exuded confidence and nobility and high energy. He needed to be with someone whose excitement about life proved contagious, who transmitted a spirit that captivated his soul.

One of the main causes of burnout is a run on one's batteries by people who fail to share the same idealism, who fail to share the same outlook on life. Those very same people usually hammer home the point that what we're doing is a waste of time. They usually pepper us with both criticism and cynicism. If we hope to keep burnout at bay, we desperately need to seek out and enjoy the company of people of the ilk of a Phillips Brooks, people who exude a spirit similar to our own, people who provide a much needed charge to a battery drained by the cynic, the doubter, and the defeatist who so often command our attention.

Lastly in that wine cellar, Jesus placed a bottle that has God's name written all over it. A young sailor was told during a terrific storm to climb the mast and trim the sails. As he got halfway up the mast, he made the mistake of looking down. The roll of the ship combined with the tossing of the waves made for a gasp of fright. The young man started to lose his balance and was about to fall when an older sailor started to shout: "Look up, Son, look up!" The young sailor did so and regained his balance. To keep ourselves from falling into burnout and discouragement, it's important that we hold our heads high, that we keep our heads pointed in the direction of God, for it's God who is our refuge and our strength, a stronghold that gives us safety, an anchor for keeping our spirits high.

My friends, there are indeed a lot of people in life similar to that pioneer of BAMM whom I interviewed several years back. They're burned out. They've run out of wine. The good news is that, just as Jesus helped those in Cana, he can help us. He's furnished a cellar filled with his wine.

There's the red heifer wine letting us know we're an imperfect people in an imperfect world. There's the mud wine letting us know that the mud we're mired in is the stuff of rubies and emeralds and diamonds. There's the future-based wine letting us know that although we might not enjoy the fruits of our labor, there will be someone who will. There's the wine with a Phillips Brooks label letting us know our need to hang with high-spirited people. There's the wine with a God label reminding us to look to God when the sea of life gets rough and discouragement is near.

Jesus has provided us with a wine cellar so that in the event that we seem to be running out of wine, there's a place to go where your supply may be replenished. My friends, if you're burned out or close to it, find that wine cellar. It might be what the doctor ordered to recover your spirit or to maintain the flame burning ever so small inside you.