Back in 1961, Dr. Paul Tournier, the Christian psychiatrist and theologian from Geneva, Switzerland, wrote a classic book entitled The Seasons of Life. It soon became a best-seller, not only because Tournier was already a well-known author, but also because this book is full of practical wisdom about the stages of life, beginning with the springtime of childhood and youth, stretching on through the summer of our young adult years to the autumn of middle age and moving toward the winter of growing older, facing the reality of death and finally embracing the promises of eternal life with God in heaven.

I don’t know if this book is still in print - if not, you’d be welcome to borrow my copy sometime and read it for yourself. But the summation of what Dr. Tournier has to say is beautifully written in the first chapter. Listen to these words:

“It is in this life story that God’s plan may be accomplished. This is what is intimated by the title The Seasons of Life - people in movement, continually undergoing change, people living a history, unfolding from their birth until their death. So the very movement implies meaning in the seasons of life.” (Page 15)

Although Dr. Tournier doesn’t say so exactly, my guess is that he discovered this profound concept in the Bible, in the ancient book of Ecclesiastes, chapter three, which begins with these well known words:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven

Throughout the Sundays in Lent, as we make our way to Holy Week - steadfastly setting our course toward Maundy Thursday’s Upper Room, Good Friday’s Cross and Easter’s Empty Tomb - I hope that these sermons about each of the seasons of life will help us mark our journey with a sense of meaning and a deeper understanding of who we are and where we are going at every step and stage along the way. And when we come to Easter morning, it is my fervent prayer that our hearts will be full of joy, great expectation and so much more as we celebrate the resurrection of the Man for All Seasons, Jesus Christ the Lord!

Our text today, from Ecclesiastes, chapter 3, begins to tilt us in that direction, toward joy and hope and great expectation, reminding us that for everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. And yet, please note from the verses which follow this introduction, that the author describes with a sobering sense of reality that the times and seasons of our lives are mixed with both joy and sorrow, seeking and losing, keeping and casting away, building up and breaking down.

You see, at no point in the journey are we promised a pain-free existence and there is no guarantee that everything is always going to turn out the way we want it to. But the Bible does assure us that God walks beside us, that He will never abandon us, and that He wants what is best for us in all of our seasons of life. And the truth is that if we make the time and take the time to focus our hearts and souls and minds on God, then we will discover the depth of His presence, the height of His grace, the wideness of His forgiveness and the breadth of His loving embrace. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

So it was in ancient days and so it still is now. Except, except that in this fast-paced, high stress, pressure-packed modern era, so many of us have ignored or forgotten to make the time and take the time for God, for moments of reflection on our lives or for the relationships that we claim mean the most to us. I think it was the poet, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, who wrote:

I think that’s what Fr. Henri Nouwen was trying to tell us in his book Making All Things New, when he wrote that “our lives are like over-packed suitcases, bursting at the seams.” And so it seems sometimes, oftentimes, that we are relentlessly pushing and frantically rushing through the seasons of life, without giving God, ourselves or anyone else the kind of attention required to find spiritual sustenance, physical rest and relaxation and emotional health.

But there is another side to our modern day dilemma which is just as painful as our compulsive activity. I’m speaking now about the isolation, boredom and loneliness that can set in when we are unemployed, disengaged, retired or just growing older and feeling that life is passing us by.

One woman, well into her eighties whom I consider a close friend, once said to me, “You know, everyone that matters to me is either turning gray, moving away, falling apart or dying.”

The truth is that isolation, boredom and loneliness can and does creep and seep into any and all of the seasons of our lives. Here’s a young girl, plugging away in high school and making above average grades. But the phone hasn’t rung for several weeks, and she knows what it’s like to spend her weekends at home, reading a good book and wondering what it takes to “become popular.”

Here’s a man, wanting to move up in his company, so he’s on the road or in the air from Monday morning until late Friday night, and when he gets home, the family is asleep and there’s a note on the kitchen table: “We missed you this week.”

Here’s a woman in the prime of her life - attractive, outgoing, a friend to many - the kind of person you can talk to and like to be with, but it’s been hard since the divorce went through and most dinner parties are for two, not one.

And here’s a couple who spent their lives raising a houseful of children, who are all grown now, with lives of their own and not as much time to visit as they once had. The old photograph album on the living room piano has been worn thin with the ritual of remembering and the back yard swing has been silent for a long time now.

You see, it can happen, it does happen, in all of our seasons - both the relentless compulsion of activity with its stress and strain, and the isolation, boredom and loneliness of feeling left out, passed by or just not being in the game. So how can we find the joy, the meaning and purpose of life that was promised by the ancient writer of the book of Ecclesiastes long, long ago, when he wrote For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven?

There is no easy answer to that question, but during this Lenten season, as we focus our sermons on “The Seasons of Life,” I want to ask you to join me in three spiritual disciplines.

First, make the time and take the time to be available to God. Come join us in worship every Sunday. Read the scriptures each week that provide the context for our sermons. Spend some time in daily prayer with the Lord. And give yourself some time to reflect on His presence and to receive the gift of peace which He alone can give to all those who seek it.

Second, make the time and take the time to be available to your family and friends. You cannot build or sustain relationships on the run, and no one, when their life is done, has ever said, “I wish I had spent more time at the office.” People are too precious and life is too short to miss the love of those whom God has given to you. Don’t miss it. Make the time, take the time, for your family and friends.

And finally, as you come to this table today to eat this bread and drink from this cup, ask the Lord Jesus to give you joy for the journey that leads to Easter. He promised to those who ask that they would receive; to those who seek, they would find; and to those who knock, the door would be opened to them. So ask for the joy you want and need, open the door of your heart to Him, and trust that He will keep His promise as He comes alongside you to help and to guide you through all the seasons of your life.

In the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.