For most of my career, I have taken Sundays for granted. My work has always revolved around Sundays, separated only by the changing of a sermon series. As far as I could see, Sundays stretched into the distant horizon of time. I would always have next Sunday and there was plenty of time to preach through the great Bible themes noted in the Scriptures. As far as I could tell, I would even have time to get in a series on Obadiah.
Then, I announced that I was stepping down from my role as the Senior Pastor of Brentwood Baptist Church and suddenly, I was running out of Sundays. I became acutely mindful of moments that would be my last moment. I have already led my last Christmas Eve service as pastor. In a few weeks, I’ll do my last Easter sermon as pastor of Brentwood Baptist Church. I’ve already done my last sermons in January and February. Soon, I’ll do my last Mother’s Day sermon and my final Father’s Day message. I’ll probably never get to that sermon series on Obadiah. Before I know it and, in some ways, before I want to, I’ll walk off the platform as pastor for the very last time. I will have run out of Sundays. I grew up listening to old preachers talk about preaching as if it was their last Sunday to ever preach. Now, my last Sunday has a date assigned to it.
I’ll probably preach again, but not like this. I’ll be a guest preacher filling in when the pastor is away on vacation. I’ll be a one-shot wonder…but before I know it, I will indeed walk off the platform for the last time.
The deeper this realization sinks within me, the more precious every Sunday becomes. Suddenly, when something becomes scarce, it quickly becomes precious. Sundays are precious to me. I relish the singing a little more. I savor the prayers. I can see the clock on the wall. Time is ticking away. I’m running out of Sundays.
And guess what? So are you.
We always assume that there will be a tomorrow. We always plan to go to church next Sunday and if you don’t make it this week, well, there’s always next Sunday. Maybe not. One day, you’ll walk out of church and you won’t walk back in again. You’ll walk out of your favorite restaurant for the last time. You’ll wave goodbye to your children or your spouse for the last time. There will be that last moment and then, there won’t be any moments at all.
So, what if this Sunday was our last Sunday? How loud would we sing? How loud would I preach? What would my last sermon be about? What would I say in my last prayer? What if today is the last day that you see your friend? The last time you talk to them on the phone? How would that moment be different?
I don’t want to be morbid. I do, however, want to be realistic. We take time for granted. Sure, we know we won’t live forever, but nothing is going to happen this week, right? Don’t waste precious time getting mad over the things that don’t matter. Don’t waste energy on the things that don’t last. You know the saying, “Dance like no one is watching…”
And yes, go to church on Sunday and sing like it’s your last Sunday there. It just might be. After all, all of us are running out of Sundays.
