Building something that will last

 This week is on Matthew 7:24-27:

 “Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them is like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the flood came, and the winds beat against that house, but it did not collapse because its foundation had been laid on rock. Everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, the flood came, and the winds beat against that house, and it collapsed—it was utterly destroyed!”

Jesus shares a lot of parables to describe what living with him is like, or how to understand our place in the context of eternity. He's describing a life of hard work that pays off, as opposed to a kind of superficiality that shows itself to be worthless in the end.

I'm reminded of this a lot as an absentee homeowner. Owning a house you only see once or twice a year is an exercise in disappointment and humiliation. Solid reliable things break and sag seemingly overnight. Walkways and borders sink into the earth like the ruins of a lost civilization. Flower beds and herb gardens become choked with weeds. Termites gnaw away the wood. You fix things and they unfix themselves the moment you turn your back. 

You sink money and time into it and before you can blink your eyes you're handed another bill and are thrown into another crisis. Nothing is permanent. No amount of labor produces a meaningful reward that lasts. You're just basically making small oases of order that are soon swallowed up by the world's decay.

But our life is like that too. People invest years of their lives in relationships that don't work out. They work nights and weekends for companies that go under or that discard them at the first sign of lowered quarterly revenue expectations. They buy stocks and cryptocurrencies that evaporate in thin air. 

They go to the gym and work to get themselves in great shape only to be ravaged by illness and age. They go into massive debt to get a university degree and then never use anything they learned. They watch series after series and play hours of games only to have nothing to show for their time when it's all over. Things have always been like that.

So what Jesus is saying to us, and to the people who were sat around him two thousand years ago having the same problems, is "Do you want your life to be like that? Because it doesn't have to be." The world we're living in now is just a thin veneer over the eternity ahead of us. It is possible to scratch through the surface and get down to what is underneath.

He compares the foolish way we live to a man who builds on sand. Do you want to shovel sand the rest of your life, only to have it keep blowing back over? Do you want to sleep in and wake to find that the desert has swallowed up your house in one of its endless dunes? Do you want to have the false hope that comes from trusting in shoddy work, only to have an unexpected flood wash it all away and leave you looking like a chump? And all of our work is shoddy compared to what is accomplished by God's hand.

What if there was something we could invest in that would last? A relationship that is more than just empty politeness or calculated betrayal. Fitness that lasts beyond the grave. Treasures that won't depreciate and get swallowed up by inflation. A dwelling that you can rest in without pieces of it coming apart in your hand the moment you stop to lean and catch your breath. Knowledge that is valuable and won't quickly get outdated. Creative work that maintains its glimmer and vibrancy.

People in Jesus' time didn't have nearly the resources at their disposal that we do now. They had less money. They had less technology. And their lives were shorter and more difficult. If anything in this parable resonates with you, it probably resonated even more with them. They had limited time, limited reserves, and nothing but bad investment choices.

So Jesus calls us to build on rock instead. Rock is something you have to uncover. Rock isn't just jutting out of the ground, leveled off, with a big "build on me" sign sticking out of it. You have to dig.

Sand is the superficial alternative. Sand is the shortcut. Sand is what makes sense when you don't know what you are doing. Sand is a lie. It seems right until it swallows you up like the grave. Jesus is telling us to avoid that foolishness.

So if we find ourselves with time to invest, if we really want to dwell in a context that can't be shaken and washed away, we should be trying to live the way Jesus lived. What is the basis on which you are building your life? Where is your value stored? What do you have to lean on that can hold the weight you are carrying?

There's a storm coming. You still have time to take shelter. Is what you're building going to last?