But perhaps the most dismal "half" we encounter on a regular basis in ourselves, others, our churches, our families and our communities is half-heartedness.

 To be on the receiving end of a halfhearted gesture, a halfhearted compliment, a halfhearted commitment, a halfhearted love, is wholly depressing and discouraging.

Anything given halfheartedly is not a joy, but a chore. Any cardiac patient can tell you that to try to go through life half-hearted is a constant struggle.

 You struggle to breathe, you struggle for comfort, you struggle to climb, you struggle even to rest.

 All these are symptoms of what you face when you live life halfheartedly.

First I was dying to finish high school and start college.

And then I was dying to finish college and start working.

And then I was dying to marry and have children.

And then I was dying for my children to grow old enough for school so I could return to work.

And then I was dying to retire.

And now I'm dying ...

And I suddenly realize I forgot to live.

(Anonymous poem, as quoted in Jonathan Kramer and Diane Dunaway Kramer, Losing the Weight of the World: A Spiritual Diet to Nourish the Soul [New York: Doubleday, 1997], 55.)

Todd Snider has a "cut" from his CD, Songs From the Daily Planet (1994) called "A Lot More." It's a song that preaches our sermon this morning better than we can. He writes: "Some guys are looking for diamonds/ Some guys just wanna pay their bills/ Some guys are climbin' the mountains/ While others are diggin' for thrills ...."

He then concludes in the chorus:

"Well, good luck at the end of that rainbow.

If you think that's what you're here for

And make no mistake about it, baby,

I want a whole lot more.

I want a whole lot more."

How about you? Which will it be? Half-dead or whole life?

I want a whole lot more.

How can you get "Whole Life" from a Grape, a Well, a Spark and a Seed? Guigo the Carthusian explains:

Lord, how much juice you can squeeze from a single grape.

How much water you can draw from a single well.

How great a fire you can kindle from a tiny spark.

How great a tree you can grow from a tiny seed.

My soul is so dry that by itself it cannot pray;

Yet you can squeeze from it the juice of a thousand prayers.

My soul is so parched that by itself it cannot love;

Yet you can draw from it boundless love for you and for my neighbor.

My soul is so cold that by itself it has no joy;

Yet you can light the fire of heavenly joy within me.

My soul is so feeble that by itself it has no faith;

Yet by your power my faith grows to a great height.

Thank you for prayer, for love, for joy, for faith;

Let me always be prayerful, loving, joyful, faithful.
--Guigo the Carthusian (twelfth century), cited in Between Heaven and Earth, ed. Ken Gire (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997), 307.