I hate today’s lections! I don’t want to preach on them! Do you even want to hear their message? As rich Americans, don’t we wish that the Revised Common Lectionary had chosen some other readings for today? Wouldn’t we rather hear about how God loves us, and how we’ll all get to heaven if we just believe the right things?
God loves us, all right, and Jesus has shown us the way to eternal life. Even so, today’s lessons sternly warn us that there is more to following Jesus than reciting the Nicene Creed. Can you hear God addressing you through the words of the prophet Amos? You have to be deaf not to hear Amos’s warning to the indolent superrich of 8th century Israel. It was a time of great prosperity. It was also a time of great income inequality when the lifestyles of the wealthy were in sharp contrast to the lifestyles of the poor. Worse yet, wealthy landowners were able to manipulate the credit system so as to amass great estates at the expense of small farmers. Enter Amos. “You who are at ease in Zion,” he thunders, “you who are sure your wealth will always support you, you who sit around idly, imagining that you are like King David, you will be the first to lose it all. As the music fades away, you will be the first into exile.” The message could not be clearer. The rich of Amos’s time didn’t want to hear it, and neither do we.
Our psalm for the day begins on a joyful note. We hear the psalmist declare, “I will praise the Lord as long as I live.” However, here again we hear the warning: neither politicians nor any “child of earth” can grant us security. The psalmist goes on to declare that the God whom we profess to worship cares for those who are oppressed, or hungry, or blind, or in prison. More to the point, we who profess to love this God, we who would honor God’s covenant with us, must imitate God, indeed must be God’s instruments, in caring for the stranger, the orphan, and the widow.
In the Gospel reading, rather than thundering at his hearers, Jesus tells a harsh story to the “lovers of money” and those who would follow their example. However, just as in Amos’s prophecy, Jesus’ story is filled with contrasts and reversals. The poor man, Lazarus, has a name, while the rich man does not. While the rich man dressed in purple and fine linen, Lazarus has only his rags and his sores. The rich man sits down to a groaning table, while Lazarus would be happy to have the leftovers in the trash. The rich man is buried, no doubt without all ceremonial, while Lazarus is carried away by the angels. However, at the end of the story, Lazarus, safely ensconced in Abraham’s bosom, now looks down on the rich man, who is forced to look up and beg.
What was Jesus telling his hearers in this story? Was Jesus condemning wealth as such? Was the rich man punished for being rich? If the rich man could invoke Abraham, then he was a member of the household of faith. As such, he too knew his Scriptures. He too had heard the prophets and the psalms. He too knew of God’s care for the needy and of his own responsibility to imitate God in caring for those around him. No, the rich man’s sin was ignoring the human need right in front of his eyes, and in failing to address it while he could. He was punished for not connecting the dots, for ignoring the connection between his identity as a child of Abraham and his responsibility to be God’s conduit of blessings to the world.
So what of us? We too sit “at ease in Zion.” We too live in a country – in a county – with deep income inequality. Currently, the richest sections of the US population now concentrate in their hands a greater portion of the national income than at any point in nearly a century, and income inequality is at near record levels. Walk any city in the US, or maybe even any small town, and you will find homeless people sleeping on heating vents and park benches, lines at soup kitchens and free dinners, and shelters full to bursting. Geralyn Wolf, the bishop of Rhode Island, spent a month of her sabbatical living on the streets as a homeless person. In her book, entitled Down and Out in Providence, she reminds us that poor people cannot “pull themselves up by their own boot straps.” Rather, many of the people she met had full or part-time jobs but did not earn enough to rent an apartment or even a room. Others were physically or emotionally handicapped. Some had lost their jobs in the recession. Government was doing little to help the people Bp. Wolf met, and some policies even actively made their situations worse.
What is our responsibility? Can we do a better job of imitating God than we currently do? The end of the letter to Timothy may provide clues, ways to respond to the prophets’ and Jesus’ warnings. The letter was most likely written by a disciple of Paul to a younger pastor when Christianity was still very much a minority religion. Even so, many of its lessons are still applicable to us. In this part, the writer closes his message by suggesting six virtues that Timothy as a pastor should pursue. The first three are addressed to God: righteousness, i.e., living in right relationship with God, godliness, i.e., choosing a lifestyle acceptable to God, and faith, i.e., trusting and obeying God. The other three deal with conduct towards one’s neighbor: love, i.e., self-giving love of others, endurance, i.e., holding fast to faith, and gentleness, i.e., humility towards others.
The writer then advises Timothy how to behave towards the wealthy. He is to remind of them of the fragility of their wealth, of their need to acknowledge that all they have comes from God, and, most importantly, of their responsibility to generously share their wealth. He is to help them to understand that this is the lifestyle that leads to “life that is really life,” the life that God intends for all of us, rich and poor. So here is our “investment strategy.” Here is the answer to the warnings of Jesus and the prophets: whatever our means, and especially if we are wealthy – and if we have food in the fridge, a roof over our heads, and more than two changes of clothes, then by definition we are wealthy – we are to be unfailingly grateful to God and generous to those in need.
Tom Gordon tells the story of Doug.1 Doug was an avid soccer fan. His team was the United, and he had begun going to matches as a small boy with his father and grandfather, who had both been season-ticket holders. After Doug’s grandfather died, his father kept up the tradition, and game days were always special treats for Doug. Doug looked forward to returning the favor when he was old enough to start earning on his own. He never got the chance: Doug’s dad died when Doug was just seventeen. After that, Doug lost interest in the United soccer matches for some years. Finally, though, he was working and had saved up enough for a season ticket.
The opening game was disappointing. United lost 3-2 on a debatable penalty. Instead of socializing with friends, Doug decided to go straight home. In the bus shelter he saw a poster asking for donations for drought-stricken Burkina Faso. Doug ignored it. Who cared about a tiny West African country? As he opened his newspaper, there was an ad soliciting funds for emergency food aid for Burkina Faso. Doug ignored it. At home, there was Burkina Faso on the evening news. Doug was moved by the pictures of the struggling farmers and dying children, but he didn’t open his checkbook. The next day was Sunday. It was a chance to see his sister’s family, so Doug went to the harvest festival at church. There was Burkina Faso again: 50p a day would provide meals all year for a struggling family, £25 a week would provide food for malnourished children and pregnant mothers, and £270 a month would support an agricultural worker. Was there a message here?
It took two weeks for Doug to decide. In fact, it was right after United won their next home game 2-0. It had been a good day. Doug began to wonder whether the people of Burkina Faso ever had good days. That evening he set up a direct debit to an international relief
organization – for exactly the same amount as the monthly cost of his United season ticket. Doug still enjoys United matches, but now his enjoyment is even greater.
What are riches?
What we have but did not earn …
What we own but did not create …
What we cherish but did not deserve …
What we value but did not achieve …
What is poverty?
What we need but do not find …
What we deserve but do not attain …
What we work for but do not receive …
What we hope for but never fulfill …
What is awareness?
What we see and choose to know …
What we listen to and choose to hear …
What we learn and choose to heed …
What we feel and choose to understand …
What is giving?
What we have and decide to share …
What we own and decide to give away …
What we cherish and decide to let go …
What we value for ourselves and decide to value for others … 2
1. Tom Gordon, “Riches,” in A Blessing to Follow (Glasgow: Wild Goose Publications, 2009), 226-29.
2. Ibid., 229.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
How are Your Investments Doing?
How are my investments doing? If you have any investments in the stock market or a 403b, if you’re receiving or counting on a pension from a public or private source, or if you have a business, for the last several years you’ve probably asked this question of your financial advisor or pension administrator: how are my investments doing? For the last five years or so, the answer has mostly been, “Not too well.” Many of our investments have lost value, many houses are still “underwater,” i.e., the debt on them exceeds their market value, and the vast majority of our savings accounts and CDs pay under 1% in interest. Are we “children of this world” handling our investments shrewdly enough? And what about our other investments?
It’s a tough parable Jesus puts before his disciples and hangers-on. Scripture scholars have debated for centuries why Luke included it in his gospel. And why, they wondered, did Luke put this odd story between the story of the Prodigal Son – don’t we all just love that story – and the one we’ll hear next week, the story of the rich man and Lazarus – which most of us wealthy First World folks don’t like at all. And all of us wonder what Jesus could possibly have meant in this odd parable of the shrewd manager.
The subject matter of the parable shouldn’t surprise us. In Luke’s retelling of the gospel story, Jesus has much to say about the proper use of wealth and possessions. Just think back to the story we heard three weeks ago. In that story, at a dinner party on the Sabbath, Jesus embarrassed his host by asking why he had invited only his own rich friends, rather than “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.” Two weeks ago, we heard Jesus warn us to plan ahead in our spiritual lives and to remember that, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions."
However, you might have been surprised at the outcome of today’s parable. The rich man, perhaps an absentee landlord, learned that his trusted manager was wasteful and careless in the investments entrusted to him. Didn’t you think that when the rich man then discovered that the manager had cooked the books and reduced everyone’s debts he would have had the manager sent to prison? Didn’t the manager commit fraud? Yet the rich man was pleased with the manager. Is this outcome just Luke’s way of making us think, by reversing our expected outcomes? Possibly. But possibly not. Knowing the debt collection practices of the ancient world, some scholars think that what the manager really did was cut his commission. That is, he was willing to forgo most of his income with these contracts in order to have a group of people grateful to him when he was out of a job. The master would still receive about the same amount of return in what would then be a win-win situation for everyone.
What’s even more surprising in this reading is that, after telling the parable, Jesus then interprets it. Remember that parables are a little like Aesop’s fables. They’re stories with a point. Here, in fact, Jesus provides three different, albeit inter-related, ways of understanding the parable. I’d like to focus on the first one. Perhaps astonishing the disciples, Jesus tells them, “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” Jesus’ meaning is clearer, I think, in the words of The Message. “Streetwise people,” he says, “are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits. I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you’ll live, really live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior.” Or to put Jesus’ lesson yet another way: we are to be as shrewd about what truly matters as those of this world are about their – or our – monetary investments. As both individuals and as a parish, we are to be as intentional about our spiritual lives, including our use of our God-given resources, as we are about our secular lives, our lives “in the world.” We are to remember that discipleship is not a part-time job. We are to take our discipleship as seriously as we take any of our other worldly obligations. Ultimately, Jesus warns us, it is the relationships that we make with God and with each other in the spiritual realm that will last, that will bring us eternal life, when wealth and possessions have passed into the hands of others.
How do we respond to Jesus’ charge? How do we as twenty-first century people living in a decidedly unspiritual culture actually follow through on our professed commitment to Jesus’ way? The first step may be to look at our priorities – our real priorities? What truly comes first in our lives? Is church and everything associated with it, say, eighth in our first ten priorities, the “icing on the cake,” of a life consumed with other obligations and forms of idolatry? If we truly accept our obligations as Jesus’ disciples, then the next step may be to actually take Jesus literally and be more intentional about our use of our resources, especially our money. Make no mistake: our use of our money is a true reflection of our character. Where are you investing your money? Is your money advancing God’s agenda? In addition to asking this question of ourselves, we might also ask it of the church. Are we using our funds to advance God’s agenda, or merely to keep up a place where a handful of us can feel good about ourselves? We might ask this question of the non-profit agencies that we support. What are they doing to advance God’s agenda, to further the cause of justice and create a more peaceful world? Remember Amos’s warning that God cares especially for those who are poor and on the margins of society. Jesus only reiterates what the prophets began telling us nearly three thousand years ago! What are we and the agencies we support doing to meet God’s expectations? And when was the last time you wrote, called, or emailed your elected representative expressing your desire for policies that reduced poverty and enhanced the lives of the poor?
We might also ask ourselves whether we are investing our own selves, our own bodies in concrete acts of mercy. Unquestionably, a check or credit card donation is always appreciated: it’s all green, as they say. Even so, for some of us, perhaps most of us, Jesus encourages us to engage in face-to-face acts of mercy, to build relationships outside of our comfort zone, to truly begin to know people in need, in our own communities or even overseas. Remember the story of the dinner: Jesus didn’t tell his host to write a check to his favorite NGO. He told his host to invite “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” into his home, to get to know them as real people worthy of attention and love.
Finally, we might honestly examine the content of our prayer. Do you have a set of prayers that you say by rote, remembering only a small circle of family or friends? The writer of the letter to Timothy reminds us that God “desires everyone to be saved,” and that therefore we are to pray for everyone. We are even to pray for kings! The goal: that all may live a quiet and peaceable life “in all godliness and dignity.” In the model prayers of the people in the Book of Common Prayer we do pray for “the leaders of the nations, and all in authority.” Yet, there are few countries in the world today where most people live a “peaceable life in all godliness and dignity,” where most people have homes, decent food, work, access to healthcare, and peace. The church must raise its voice in proclaiming peace and calling for justice. We too must pray and then make our voices heard so that our politicians know that we are dedicated to the cause of a peaceable life in all godliness and dignity for all people, and especially for those now excluded from the world’s resources. How can St. Peter’s be on the front line in advancing God’s agenda?
How are our investments doing? Are we as intentional about helping our spiritual investments grow as we are about our monetary investments? Are we using our resources to advance God’s agenda? Are we engaged in real acts of mercy? Are we praying for all, most especially our leaders? Holy God, you have called us to serve you. Guide us and make us worthy of our calling. Give us wisdom to use our resources and talents to your glory and to the benefit of all who are in need; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
It’s a tough parable Jesus puts before his disciples and hangers-on. Scripture scholars have debated for centuries why Luke included it in his gospel. And why, they wondered, did Luke put this odd story between the story of the Prodigal Son – don’t we all just love that story – and the one we’ll hear next week, the story of the rich man and Lazarus – which most of us wealthy First World folks don’t like at all. And all of us wonder what Jesus could possibly have meant in this odd parable of the shrewd manager.
The subject matter of the parable shouldn’t surprise us. In Luke’s retelling of the gospel story, Jesus has much to say about the proper use of wealth and possessions. Just think back to the story we heard three weeks ago. In that story, at a dinner party on the Sabbath, Jesus embarrassed his host by asking why he had invited only his own rich friends, rather than “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.” Two weeks ago, we heard Jesus warn us to plan ahead in our spiritual lives and to remember that, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions."
However, you might have been surprised at the outcome of today’s parable. The rich man, perhaps an absentee landlord, learned that his trusted manager was wasteful and careless in the investments entrusted to him. Didn’t you think that when the rich man then discovered that the manager had cooked the books and reduced everyone’s debts he would have had the manager sent to prison? Didn’t the manager commit fraud? Yet the rich man was pleased with the manager. Is this outcome just Luke’s way of making us think, by reversing our expected outcomes? Possibly. But possibly not. Knowing the debt collection practices of the ancient world, some scholars think that what the manager really did was cut his commission. That is, he was willing to forgo most of his income with these contracts in order to have a group of people grateful to him when he was out of a job. The master would still receive about the same amount of return in what would then be a win-win situation for everyone.
What’s even more surprising in this reading is that, after telling the parable, Jesus then interprets it. Remember that parables are a little like Aesop’s fables. They’re stories with a point. Here, in fact, Jesus provides three different, albeit inter-related, ways of understanding the parable. I’d like to focus on the first one. Perhaps astonishing the disciples, Jesus tells them, “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” Jesus’ meaning is clearer, I think, in the words of The Message. “Streetwise people,” he says, “are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits. I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you’ll live, really live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior.” Or to put Jesus’ lesson yet another way: we are to be as shrewd about what truly matters as those of this world are about their – or our – monetary investments. As both individuals and as a parish, we are to be as intentional about our spiritual lives, including our use of our God-given resources, as we are about our secular lives, our lives “in the world.” We are to remember that discipleship is not a part-time job. We are to take our discipleship as seriously as we take any of our other worldly obligations. Ultimately, Jesus warns us, it is the relationships that we make with God and with each other in the spiritual realm that will last, that will bring us eternal life, when wealth and possessions have passed into the hands of others.
How do we respond to Jesus’ charge? How do we as twenty-first century people living in a decidedly unspiritual culture actually follow through on our professed commitment to Jesus’ way? The first step may be to look at our priorities – our real priorities? What truly comes first in our lives? Is church and everything associated with it, say, eighth in our first ten priorities, the “icing on the cake,” of a life consumed with other obligations and forms of idolatry? If we truly accept our obligations as Jesus’ disciples, then the next step may be to actually take Jesus literally and be more intentional about our use of our resources, especially our money. Make no mistake: our use of our money is a true reflection of our character. Where are you investing your money? Is your money advancing God’s agenda? In addition to asking this question of ourselves, we might also ask it of the church. Are we using our funds to advance God’s agenda, or merely to keep up a place where a handful of us can feel good about ourselves? We might ask this question of the non-profit agencies that we support. What are they doing to advance God’s agenda, to further the cause of justice and create a more peaceful world? Remember Amos’s warning that God cares especially for those who are poor and on the margins of society. Jesus only reiterates what the prophets began telling us nearly three thousand years ago! What are we and the agencies we support doing to meet God’s expectations? And when was the last time you wrote, called, or emailed your elected representative expressing your desire for policies that reduced poverty and enhanced the lives of the poor?
We might also ask ourselves whether we are investing our own selves, our own bodies in concrete acts of mercy. Unquestionably, a check or credit card donation is always appreciated: it’s all green, as they say. Even so, for some of us, perhaps most of us, Jesus encourages us to engage in face-to-face acts of mercy, to build relationships outside of our comfort zone, to truly begin to know people in need, in our own communities or even overseas. Remember the story of the dinner: Jesus didn’t tell his host to write a check to his favorite NGO. He told his host to invite “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” into his home, to get to know them as real people worthy of attention and love.
Finally, we might honestly examine the content of our prayer. Do you have a set of prayers that you say by rote, remembering only a small circle of family or friends? The writer of the letter to Timothy reminds us that God “desires everyone to be saved,” and that therefore we are to pray for everyone. We are even to pray for kings! The goal: that all may live a quiet and peaceable life “in all godliness and dignity.” In the model prayers of the people in the Book of Common Prayer we do pray for “the leaders of the nations, and all in authority.” Yet, there are few countries in the world today where most people live a “peaceable life in all godliness and dignity,” where most people have homes, decent food, work, access to healthcare, and peace. The church must raise its voice in proclaiming peace and calling for justice. We too must pray and then make our voices heard so that our politicians know that we are dedicated to the cause of a peaceable life in all godliness and dignity for all people, and especially for those now excluded from the world’s resources. How can St. Peter’s be on the front line in advancing God’s agenda?
How are our investments doing? Are we as intentional about helping our spiritual investments grow as we are about our monetary investments? Are we using our resources to advance God’s agenda? Are we engaged in real acts of mercy? Are we praying for all, most especially our leaders? Holy God, you have called us to serve you. Guide us and make us worthy of our calling. Give us wisdom to use our resources and talents to your glory and to the benefit of all who are in need; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
What Do You Seek?
“What do you seek?” This is often the first question put to those thinking to enter the monastic life. The answer is often a generic one: life with Christ, God’s grace, or, perhaps, a life of service with and to others. Benedictine communities want a more considered answer to that question. In its chapter on “The Procedure for Receiving Members,” the Rule of Benedict advises, “Do not grant newcomers to the monastic life easy entry.” If newcomers persist in knocking at the door, says the rule, after four or five days they may be allowed to stay in the guest quarters for a few days. After that, they may stay in the novice house with other newcomers where they are patiently mentored by a senior member of the community. The novices are to be “clearly told all the hardships and difficulties that will lead to God.” Over the next several months, they are to thoroughly study the rule of Benedict. When they are ready to be received into the community they must promise in writing to abide by the rule, so that they are “well aware that … from this day they are no longer free to leave the monastery, nor to shake from their neck the yoke of the rule which, in the course of so prolonged a period of reflection, they were free either to reject or to accept.”
What do you seek? In today’s reading, we’re part of a large crowd travelling with Jesus as he makes his way to Jerusalem. What are we there for? Are we just traipsing after Jesus, cheering him on, or do we seek something deeper? Do we really want to hear what Jesus has to tell us?
Jesus has upped the ante! Last week at that Sabbath dinner party we heard Jesus remind us that we are to walk humbly with God, show kindness to those around us, and work for justice, especially for economic justice. Not unlike his sixth-century descendants, Jesus now flings a deeper challenge at us. “The patriarchal family is not the primary focus of your loyalty,” Jesus tells his would-be followers. “If you are one of my followers, you are part of a new family, made up of all those who have committed themselves to my way. And my way inevitably leads to the Cross, to that way of state execution that you know only too well. Consider well, count the cost, and make your plans carefully. If you want to follow me, be prepared to throw everything you’ve got into the pot.”
The message is clear: discipleship costs. In fact, it will cost us everything. Let’s unpack these words a little. This is the only time that the word “cost” appears in the entire New Testament. “Cost” is what we give up to get, preserve, make, or accomplish something. Cost may involve some sacrifice. Cost certainly involves effort and resources.
And discipleship? Discipleship is a process. Teihard de Chardin talks about the “slow work of God.” Discipleship is a transformative process in which we slowly, painfully, patiently, and painstakingly, become holier, become more and more like Jesus, become more and more the servants God expects us to be. Discipleship takes time. We will make false starts, and we will make mistakes, but we will, by the grace of God, grow, inch by inch. Discipleship involves letting go of all those attachments – attachments to luxury, toys, comforts, possessions, habits, activities, opinions, even overwork – whatever gets in the way of our focus on Jesus. At the heart of discipleship is transformation into people fully, intentionally, and whole-heartedly committed to Jesus’ way of life. In this transformation, God willing, we enter into a more intimate relationship with God, so that we cease being shallow and lackadaisical and become mature people of faith. Jesus fully warns us that growth in discipleship is a difficult process and that following him should change our entire lives. “If you cannot hear this call,” a pastor of a tall-steeple church told his affluent congregation, “then you ought to renounce your baptism.”
What do you seek? Do you really want to follow Jesus? Can you allow yourselves to be transformed by him? Many before us have sought that transformation and have ended up paying for it with their lives. When Luke wrote his gospel, the Romans were already persecuting followers of Jesus. Christians, including several prominent bishops, were martyred in the first three centuries of the church. Fifteenth-century Czech reformer Jan Hus and, in our own church, sixteenth-century Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Cranmer were among many Reformers whose steadfast commitment to what they believed was Jesus’ call cost them their lives. Other names from our own times come to mind. Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about “the cost of discipleship” from a Nazi prison shortly before being hanged. Archbishop Oscar Romero, who sought economic justice for the poor in El Salvador, was gunned down in 1980 while saying Mass. Sr. Dorothy Stang was shot to death while ministering to the poor in a Brazilian rainforest. Martin Luther King lost his life pursuing his Biblically-grounded dream of a just, color-blind society. Others have borne the cost of loss of blood family. Pandita Ramabai, a nineteenth-century Hindu Brahmin, lost all ties to her caste when she became a Christian, even as she found an entirely new family working among the poor and disenfranchised in western India. And others, like Mother Teresa, have struggled with loneliness and desolation, even as they strove to follow Jesus into the poorest corners of the world. All understood the cost of faithfully following Jesus, and all willingly accepted that cost in return for the transformation wrought in them by God.
What do you seek? God willing, none of us is called to witness to our faith with our lives. But do we really want to follow Jesus, or do we just want to traipse behind, enjoying the ceremonial and occasionally cheering him on? Be assured, the Christian life is not for the faint-hearted! If we truly want to be numbered among Jesus’ disciples, there is a cost. At the very least, Jesus calls us to look at our lifestyle, to do some honest soul searching, to ask ourselves whether our lifestyle truly reflects our commitment to Christ. As the old quip says, “If you were on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?”
What is primary in our lives? Is it our commitment to Christ? Or do we let the demands of our secular lives overwhelm any time or energy we might give to God? How are we using our resources? We are not expected to become beggars, or to so impoverish ourselves that we are dependent on others’ charity. But are returning to God a portion of our treasure? I invite you to ponder your support of the church. Historically, 10% of one’s income was deemed an appropriate return to God. Where are you? If you are currently giving 1% of your income, can you give 2%? Can you give more? What about your time and talents? What return to God are you making of them? Are you growing in your relationship with God? If not, why not? What do you need to help you grow? What in your life should change so that you can spend more time with God? Is your sensitivity to the needs of others, especially to the needs of the poor, increasing? If not, what are some ways of immersing yourselves in the realities of their lives?
What do you seek? In her insightful commentary on the procedure for receiving members in the Rule of Benedict, Joan Chittister, herself a Benedictine, reminds us that, “The spiritual life is not a set of exercises appended to our ordinary routine. It is a complete reordering of our values and our priorities and our lives. Spirituality is not just a matter of joining the closest religious community or parish committee or faith-sharing group. Spirituality is that depth of soul that changes our lives and focuses our efforts and leads us to see the world differently than we ever did before.” The transformation that God offers us is “the process of a lifetime…. [I]t is not a spiritual quick fix…. It is the work of a lifetime that takes a lifetime to leaven us until, imperceptibly, we find ourselves changed into what we sought.”
What do you seek? Do you seek to be a faithful follower of Jesus? Know the cost of declaring yourself his disciple: ultimately it will be your whole life.
“In a little while, we will sing,
I can hear my Savior calling,
I can hear my Savior calling,
I can hear my Savior calling,
“Take thy cross and follow, follow Me.”
Where He leads me I will follow,
Where He leads me I will follow,
Where He leads me I will follow;
I’ll go with Him, with Him, all the way.”
I’ll go with him all the way. God grant that it may be so.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
What Does God Expect
Eight centuries before Jesus walked into the house of the Pharisee on the Sabbath, God had already made God’s expectations of those who profess to be faithful people abundantly clear: As the prophet Micah declared, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
“Walk humbly with your God.” Avram was confused. All the Pharisees in his region looked up to him. He was learned in the ways of the law, and he and his household observed all the law’s demands scrupulously. Even so, he was eager to meet this Galilean rabbi whose miraculous healings and startling teachings were arousing the countryside. When Avram went out to meet him at the gate, Jesus took Avram’s hands in his own. As if he knew that Avram wanted to follow him, Jesus looked into Avram’s eyes and greeted him warmly. Avram’s heart stirred. However, once inside the house, the mood shifted. Jesus’ face darkened as he watched the other men jockeying for position, showing off their fine clothes, and shouting at the servants. Going against all norms of etiquette, Jesus clanked a knife against a cup. Quoting some verses from Scripture – Proverbs as it turned out – he warned the status-seekers to remember who they were in God’s eyes: specks of dust, blades of grass blown away by a gust of wind. Was he trying for a little humor when he said, “Those who walk around with their noses in the air will fall flat on their faces?” Perhaps, but his message was clear. In God’s eyes none of us is any better than anyone else: we are all needy and dependent on God’s mercy. As Jesus was speaking, Avram began to wonder, “What do I do? Do I see myself as better than others? Richer, better educated, more influential? Do I myself head for the best seat in the synagogue or at dinner tables?”
Before Avram could answer these questions, Jesus spun around and addressed him. “Why did you invite only your friends, Avram? God has gifted you with a large and wealthy household, plenty of time, and a good heart. Where are the people who really need your help – and I’m not talking just about your checkbook? When are you going to embrace God’s other children, the ones who look, and smell, and talk differently from you? Do you think you’re better than they are? If you’re truly humble, you know that you’re no different from them, and that you and they are all God’s beloved children. You think you want to follow me? See who my friends are and make them your friends too!” Avram was stunned. Then he looked at Jesus’ face. He saw such love in Jesus’ eyes that, before he could lose his nerve, he whispered, “O.K., Jesus, I’m in.”
“Love kindness.” Fast forward twenty centuries. For thirty years, nine women in west Tennessee kept a deep, dark secret.1 Four of them women were sisters raised by generous grandparents and the other five were friends of the family. The nine women often played bridge together. Thirty-five years ago, they decided it was time to put their faith into action and begin helping those in need. Although they wished they’d had $1 million, they managed to scrape together $400 by washing their husbands’ shirts themselves. Then they hatched a plan: without anyone knowing who they were or what they were doing, in their own kitchens, they began baking cakes and other sweet treats for those in need. Then they began to eavesdrop – with good intentions -- at the beauty shop or the grocery store. If they heard about a widow or a single mom who needed a little help, they’d step in and anonymously pay a utility bill or buy some new clothes for the children.
They called themselves the Nine Nanas. The more people they helped, the bolder they became. “We gave new meaning to the term drive-by,” one said delightedly. “We’d drive through low-income neighborhoods and look for homes that had fans in the window. That told us that the people who lived there didn’t have air-conditioning. Or we’d see that there were no lights on at night, which meant there was a good chance their utilities had been turned off. Then we’d return before the sun came up, like cat burglars, and drop off a little care package.” And anonymously pay the utility bill.
The Nanas kept their secret for thirty years, until one of the husbands decided to take a closer look at bank statements and odometers. They fessed up. “They were amazed that we were doing this, “another said, “and even more amazed that they never knew. We can keep a good secret! All but three of the husbands are retired now, so sometimes they come with us on our drive-bys. In our area, all you need is an address to pay someone’s utility bill, so we keep the men busy jotting down numbers.” Then the grown children got involved, urging the Nanas to sell their sweet treats on line to support their charitable work. The orders began pouring in. When the orders reached 100 a day, a restaurant allowed them use its kitchen in the early morning hours, and they hired a full-time coordinator – whose identity is secret so that she can continue eavesdropping. Their online success now allows the Nanas to take on even bigger projects. Recently they donated more than $5,000 worth of pillows, linens and toiletries to a shelter for survivors of domestic violence. The million dollars they once wished for? They’re almost there. In the last 35 years, the Nanas have contributed nearly $900,000 to their local community.
“Do justice.” Tomorrow is Labor Day in the U.S. Many in this community struggle because they are unemployed. But Labor Day Sunday is also a day to recognize that some of the people who come to Loaves and Fishes, the Lutheran Social Services Mobile Food Pantry, or the Outreach Center, or who access government services, have a job but cannot earn enough to support a family. Perhaps their wages are too low. More than a quarter of all jobs pay such low wages that even someone working full time cannot support a family. More than likely, they don’t get enough hours anyway. More than a third of all Walmart employees, for example, work fewer than 28 hours a week and therefore do not qualify for benefits. Over 80% of low-wage workers have no sick leave and lose wages every time they or a family member is sick. Over a quarter of low-wage workers have no health insurance, either through their job or a family member – not to mention dental or vision care insurance. And many low-wage workers have unpredictable work schedules, making it difficult to take a second job, go to school, or find child care. To make matters worse, more than likely they have fallen into debt because of loans taken – at high interest rates – for car repairs or medical expenses. We do a great job of meeting people’s immediate needs for food, but what else can we do to help others escape poverty?
What is our role as a church to help those in need come to the point where our handouts are no longer necessary? This weekend workers at McDonald’s and other fast-food restaurants in many cities are onstrike, demanding livable wages. Addressing one such gathering in Atlanta, Congressman John Lewis alluded to the March on Washington fifty years ago this week. Then he offered his support to those gathered in Atlanta saying, "We're still marching for jobs. We need more than a minimum wage, we need a livable wage. I don't understand how people survive when they are being paid starvation wages. In a country like ours, we could do much better."2 Echoing Lewis in their Labor Day statement, Roman Catholic bishops reminded the faithful that, “The pain of the poor and those becoming poor in the rising economic inequality of our society is mounting. Therefore, on this Labor Day 2013, let us renew our commitment to promote the dignity of the human person through work that is honorable, pays just wages, and recognizes the God-given dignity of the working person.” What can we do? We can support policies that begin to decrease the gap between rich and poor in this country. We can pray for the wisdom to create a system where all who work are also able to support themselves and their families. We can press our elected representatives to think about extreme poverty and economic justice when they craft federal or state budgets. We can educate ourselves through books like Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickel and Dimed or Jim Wallis’s On God’s Side. Jesus showed us that God’s Reign includes all of God’s children, and that God has a special preference for the poor. Have we invited the poor to the table?
“He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” God grant us the will and wisdom to follow Jesus in living up to God’s requirements.
1. The following is based on http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/20/it-aint-over-the-business-secret_n_1607385.html , accessed 8-29-13.
2. http://clatl.com/freshloaf/archives/2013/08/30/video-us-rep-john-lewis-calls-for-livable-wages-five-points-fast-food-workers-strike accessed 8-31-13.
“Walk humbly with your God.” Avram was confused. All the Pharisees in his region looked up to him. He was learned in the ways of the law, and he and his household observed all the law’s demands scrupulously. Even so, he was eager to meet this Galilean rabbi whose miraculous healings and startling teachings were arousing the countryside. When Avram went out to meet him at the gate, Jesus took Avram’s hands in his own. As if he knew that Avram wanted to follow him, Jesus looked into Avram’s eyes and greeted him warmly. Avram’s heart stirred. However, once inside the house, the mood shifted. Jesus’ face darkened as he watched the other men jockeying for position, showing off their fine clothes, and shouting at the servants. Going against all norms of etiquette, Jesus clanked a knife against a cup. Quoting some verses from Scripture – Proverbs as it turned out – he warned the status-seekers to remember who they were in God’s eyes: specks of dust, blades of grass blown away by a gust of wind. Was he trying for a little humor when he said, “Those who walk around with their noses in the air will fall flat on their faces?” Perhaps, but his message was clear. In God’s eyes none of us is any better than anyone else: we are all needy and dependent on God’s mercy. As Jesus was speaking, Avram began to wonder, “What do I do? Do I see myself as better than others? Richer, better educated, more influential? Do I myself head for the best seat in the synagogue or at dinner tables?”
Before Avram could answer these questions, Jesus spun around and addressed him. “Why did you invite only your friends, Avram? God has gifted you with a large and wealthy household, plenty of time, and a good heart. Where are the people who really need your help – and I’m not talking just about your checkbook? When are you going to embrace God’s other children, the ones who look, and smell, and talk differently from you? Do you think you’re better than they are? If you’re truly humble, you know that you’re no different from them, and that you and they are all God’s beloved children. You think you want to follow me? See who my friends are and make them your friends too!” Avram was stunned. Then he looked at Jesus’ face. He saw such love in Jesus’ eyes that, before he could lose his nerve, he whispered, “O.K., Jesus, I’m in.”
“Love kindness.” Fast forward twenty centuries. For thirty years, nine women in west Tennessee kept a deep, dark secret.1 Four of them women were sisters raised by generous grandparents and the other five were friends of the family. The nine women often played bridge together. Thirty-five years ago, they decided it was time to put their faith into action and begin helping those in need. Although they wished they’d had $1 million, they managed to scrape together $400 by washing their husbands’ shirts themselves. Then they hatched a plan: without anyone knowing who they were or what they were doing, in their own kitchens, they began baking cakes and other sweet treats for those in need. Then they began to eavesdrop – with good intentions -- at the beauty shop or the grocery store. If they heard about a widow or a single mom who needed a little help, they’d step in and anonymously pay a utility bill or buy some new clothes for the children.
They called themselves the Nine Nanas. The more people they helped, the bolder they became. “We gave new meaning to the term drive-by,” one said delightedly. “We’d drive through low-income neighborhoods and look for homes that had fans in the window. That told us that the people who lived there didn’t have air-conditioning. Or we’d see that there were no lights on at night, which meant there was a good chance their utilities had been turned off. Then we’d return before the sun came up, like cat burglars, and drop off a little care package.” And anonymously pay the utility bill.
The Nanas kept their secret for thirty years, until one of the husbands decided to take a closer look at bank statements and odometers. They fessed up. “They were amazed that we were doing this, “another said, “and even more amazed that they never knew. We can keep a good secret! All but three of the husbands are retired now, so sometimes they come with us on our drive-bys. In our area, all you need is an address to pay someone’s utility bill, so we keep the men busy jotting down numbers.” Then the grown children got involved, urging the Nanas to sell their sweet treats on line to support their charitable work. The orders began pouring in. When the orders reached 100 a day, a restaurant allowed them use its kitchen in the early morning hours, and they hired a full-time coordinator – whose identity is secret so that she can continue eavesdropping. Their online success now allows the Nanas to take on even bigger projects. Recently they donated more than $5,000 worth of pillows, linens and toiletries to a shelter for survivors of domestic violence. The million dollars they once wished for? They’re almost there. In the last 35 years, the Nanas have contributed nearly $900,000 to their local community.
“Do justice.” Tomorrow is Labor Day in the U.S. Many in this community struggle because they are unemployed. But Labor Day Sunday is also a day to recognize that some of the people who come to Loaves and Fishes, the Lutheran Social Services Mobile Food Pantry, or the Outreach Center, or who access government services, have a job but cannot earn enough to support a family. Perhaps their wages are too low. More than a quarter of all jobs pay such low wages that even someone working full time cannot support a family. More than likely, they don’t get enough hours anyway. More than a third of all Walmart employees, for example, work fewer than 28 hours a week and therefore do not qualify for benefits. Over 80% of low-wage workers have no sick leave and lose wages every time they or a family member is sick. Over a quarter of low-wage workers have no health insurance, either through their job or a family member – not to mention dental or vision care insurance. And many low-wage workers have unpredictable work schedules, making it difficult to take a second job, go to school, or find child care. To make matters worse, more than likely they have fallen into debt because of loans taken – at high interest rates – for car repairs or medical expenses. We do a great job of meeting people’s immediate needs for food, but what else can we do to help others escape poverty?
What is our role as a church to help those in need come to the point where our handouts are no longer necessary? This weekend workers at McDonald’s and other fast-food restaurants in many cities are onstrike, demanding livable wages. Addressing one such gathering in Atlanta, Congressman John Lewis alluded to the March on Washington fifty years ago this week. Then he offered his support to those gathered in Atlanta saying, "We're still marching for jobs. We need more than a minimum wage, we need a livable wage. I don't understand how people survive when they are being paid starvation wages. In a country like ours, we could do much better."2 Echoing Lewis in their Labor Day statement, Roman Catholic bishops reminded the faithful that, “The pain of the poor and those becoming poor in the rising economic inequality of our society is mounting. Therefore, on this Labor Day 2013, let us renew our commitment to promote the dignity of the human person through work that is honorable, pays just wages, and recognizes the God-given dignity of the working person.” What can we do? We can support policies that begin to decrease the gap between rich and poor in this country. We can pray for the wisdom to create a system where all who work are also able to support themselves and their families. We can press our elected representatives to think about extreme poverty and economic justice when they craft federal or state budgets. We can educate ourselves through books like Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickel and Dimed or Jim Wallis’s On God’s Side. Jesus showed us that God’s Reign includes all of God’s children, and that God has a special preference for the poor. Have we invited the poor to the table?
“He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” God grant us the will and wisdom to follow Jesus in living up to God’s requirements.
1. The following is based on http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/20/it-aint-over-the-business-secret_n_1607385.html , accessed 8-29-13.
2. http://clatl.com/freshloaf/archives/2013/08/30/video-us-rep-john-lewis-calls-for-livable-wages-five-points-fast-food-workers-strike accessed 8-31-13.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
All Things Come of Thee
“How much Land Does a Man Need?” In Leo Tolstoy’s famous story a peasant makes a deal: he can buy all the land he can circle on foot in one day for only 1,000 rubles. However, if he doesn’t return to his starting place by sunset, he gets no land – and he loses his money. Frantically racing the sun, the greedy peasant tries to cover as wide a circle as he can. Just short of his starting point, he drops dead of exhaustion. He is buried in an ordinary grave, only six feet long, thus offering an ironic answer to the question posed in the title of the story.
How much is enough? What do we, as Jesus’ followers, truly need? What do we, as people called to seek the “things that are above,” truly require? Be warned: I am about to cross a great taboo. No, I’m not about to talk about Fifty Shades of Grey! I am about to talk about money in the church – and not only today but several times between now and All Saints Day. We in the church are so reluctant to talk about money! Like most Americans, we think of our use of money as strictly our own affair – not something a preacher should be addressing. Many of us might even secretly agree with Gordon Gekko, the corporate raider in Oliver Stone’s film “Wall Street,” who told a group of stockholders that greed is good. Alan Greenspan, Paul Ryan, and other influential political leaders openly follow the philosophy of author Ayn Rand, who titled one of her books The Virtue of Selfishness. You may not be a follower of Rand. Even so, Jesus’ talk about money might still make you uncomfortable, especially his decided preference for the poor in Luke’s Gospel. But we’d better listen to Jesus, because our use of our money is at least as much an expression of our faith as anything else we do. Show me your checkbook, and I’ll know what you really believe!
Indeed, our lessons today offer sobering perspectives on wealth and possessions. In our first reading, the Teacher, “Qoheleth,” in Hebrew, offers a very somber view of human existence. All of us face death, leaving behind all the achievements for which we worked so hard, and all the possessions we so strenuously sought to acquire. Our shroud has no pockets, and no U-Haul will follow our hearse! Consequently, ultimately all human endeavor is meaningless. “… vanity of vanities. All is vanity,” i.e., all human endeavor is fleeting, futile, unsubstantial, empty, and ephemeral. Our psalm similarly reminds us that all of us, whether we are wise or whether we are dull and stupid, similarly perish, leaving our wealth “to those who come after.”
Echoing Qoheleth, Jesus explicitly inveighs against greed and the stockpiling of possessions. “Be on your guard,” he thunders, “against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Again echoing Qoheleth with the neat parable of the rich fool, Jesus reminds us that, because death strips us of all our possessions, we must instead be
“rich toward God.” The writer of the letter to the Christians at Colossae follows suit. Here too we hear a caution against greed – as well as other behaviors that attach us to this world. What is more important, we are reminded that, as Jesus’ disciples, as people who have been dressed in the new clothes of baptism, we are to live a new and different kind of life from that which we lived previously. Directing our lives toward God, we are to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is….”
How are we to do this? What does it mean to be “rich toward God,” or to set our minds on “things that are above?” Qoheleth offers us no alternative to a life of vain and fleeting pursuits. Jesus, in our Gospel reading, implicitly condemns the rich man for his self-centered intent to build bigger barns and live a life of ease. However, Jesus does not tell us what the rich man should have done, nor does he tell us what being “rich toward God” means. The writer to the Colossians tells us all the bad habits we need to give up. However, other than suggesting that Christ has overcome all ethnic divisions, he does not tell us what habits and virtues we need to cultivate. How shall we give up our attachment to earthly things and seek the “things that are above?”
Beginning in the fourth century, women and men sought to follow Jesus’ teachings by withdrawing from society and living in isolated communities. In Egypt and North Africa, communities sprang up in the desert, dedicated to the simple life. In the sixth century, Benedict of Nursia wrote his famous Rule for monastic communities that stressed living the simple life in common, forsaking most pleasures of the flesh, respecting for the needs of others, and committing oneself to remaining in community. Benedict’s Rule proved to be so influential that, in one form or another, it still provides the template for the rule of almost every Roman Catholic and Anglican vowed community. Most of us are not prepared to join monastic communities. Even so, there are ways to create a “monastery of the heart,” and, as Joan Chittester’s commentary on the Rule so insightfully suggests, to let Benedict guide even us secular twenty-first century followers of Jesus.
What are some ways we might begin becoming “rich toward God” and seeking “things that are above?” For starters, we can recognize the source of our wealth. The rich man in Jesus’ parable behaved as if he alone were responsible for the abundant produce of the land. In truth, it was the fertile soil, good weather, hard work of his farmhands, and domestic support of his womenfolk that produced the abundance. The same is true for us – all of us. None of us is self-made. If you are sitting here, you have been gifted by God – even if you received no inheritance from your parents, even if you struggled to finish school with scholarships and loans, even if you’ve worked hard every day of your life. Most of us have had supportive families, enough food, and an education provided by other people’s taxes. Our parents took us to the doctor and dentist. We’ve had roads, and street lights, police and fire protection, hospitals and churches. We’ve been fortunate to live in a web – a village if you will – that has helped make us what we are and enabled us to enjoy much good fortune and comparative wealth. None of us lives on the streets, and all of us have a good idea of where our next meal is coming from. Understanding that it is by God’s gift that we have our houses, clothing, food, Kindles, ipods, and whatever, and that we are alive and able to do God’s work is the first step in being “rich towards God.”
Second, we can look at our checkbook. Where are we actually using our resources? Do we have a balanced life? Are we tied down by possessions? Can we simplify our lives? In her commentary on the Benedictine Rule, Chittister reminds us that our possessions tie us to the earth. “They clutter our space; they crimp our hearts; they sour our souls. Benedict says that the answer is that we not allow ourselves to have anything beyond life’s simple staples….” What areas of our lives can we declutter and simplify?
Finally, we need to actively consider how we might share our wealth with others. In the first half of life, that may mean especially providing for the needs of our own families. However, in the second half of life, sharing our wealth should mean considering the needs of others outside our families. In both halves of life, we need to be intentional in our use of oue resources. We need to be intentional in our gifts to the church, as well as to other institutions that we support. John Wesley is reported to have admonished his followers, “Do you not know that God entrusted you with that money (all above what buys necessities for your families) to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to help the stranger, the widow, the fatherless; and, indeed, as far as it will go, to relieve the wants of all mankind? How can you, how dare you, defraud the Lord, by applying it to any other purpose?” Ultimately, being “rich toward God” and using our wealth to seek the “things that are above” mean using our resources to benefit others. If we want to leave a lasting legacy, if we want to ensure that our lives are more than “vanity,” then we must have a plan for how that is to be done – a will. The Book of Common Prayer reminds us all to make wills, younger people to ensure that their dependents are properly provided for, and older people to ensure that their legacy honors God.
How can we, as perishable mortals, be rich toward God? By recognizing God as the source of all that we have and by prayerfully and intentionally using God’s gifts to further God’s agenda in the world. By truly saying and believing that, “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.”
How much is enough? What do we, as Jesus’ followers, truly need? What do we, as people called to seek the “things that are above,” truly require? Be warned: I am about to cross a great taboo. No, I’m not about to talk about Fifty Shades of Grey! I am about to talk about money in the church – and not only today but several times between now and All Saints Day. We in the church are so reluctant to talk about money! Like most Americans, we think of our use of money as strictly our own affair – not something a preacher should be addressing. Many of us might even secretly agree with Gordon Gekko, the corporate raider in Oliver Stone’s film “Wall Street,” who told a group of stockholders that greed is good. Alan Greenspan, Paul Ryan, and other influential political leaders openly follow the philosophy of author Ayn Rand, who titled one of her books The Virtue of Selfishness. You may not be a follower of Rand. Even so, Jesus’ talk about money might still make you uncomfortable, especially his decided preference for the poor in Luke’s Gospel. But we’d better listen to Jesus, because our use of our money is at least as much an expression of our faith as anything else we do. Show me your checkbook, and I’ll know what you really believe!
Indeed, our lessons today offer sobering perspectives on wealth and possessions. In our first reading, the Teacher, “Qoheleth,” in Hebrew, offers a very somber view of human existence. All of us face death, leaving behind all the achievements for which we worked so hard, and all the possessions we so strenuously sought to acquire. Our shroud has no pockets, and no U-Haul will follow our hearse! Consequently, ultimately all human endeavor is meaningless. “… vanity of vanities. All is vanity,” i.e., all human endeavor is fleeting, futile, unsubstantial, empty, and ephemeral. Our psalm similarly reminds us that all of us, whether we are wise or whether we are dull and stupid, similarly perish, leaving our wealth “to those who come after.”
Echoing Qoheleth, Jesus explicitly inveighs against greed and the stockpiling of possessions. “Be on your guard,” he thunders, “against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Again echoing Qoheleth with the neat parable of the rich fool, Jesus reminds us that, because death strips us of all our possessions, we must instead be
“rich toward God.” The writer of the letter to the Christians at Colossae follows suit. Here too we hear a caution against greed – as well as other behaviors that attach us to this world. What is more important, we are reminded that, as Jesus’ disciples, as people who have been dressed in the new clothes of baptism, we are to live a new and different kind of life from that which we lived previously. Directing our lives toward God, we are to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is….”
How are we to do this? What does it mean to be “rich toward God,” or to set our minds on “things that are above?” Qoheleth offers us no alternative to a life of vain and fleeting pursuits. Jesus, in our Gospel reading, implicitly condemns the rich man for his self-centered intent to build bigger barns and live a life of ease. However, Jesus does not tell us what the rich man should have done, nor does he tell us what being “rich toward God” means. The writer to the Colossians tells us all the bad habits we need to give up. However, other than suggesting that Christ has overcome all ethnic divisions, he does not tell us what habits and virtues we need to cultivate. How shall we give up our attachment to earthly things and seek the “things that are above?”
Beginning in the fourth century, women and men sought to follow Jesus’ teachings by withdrawing from society and living in isolated communities. In Egypt and North Africa, communities sprang up in the desert, dedicated to the simple life. In the sixth century, Benedict of Nursia wrote his famous Rule for monastic communities that stressed living the simple life in common, forsaking most pleasures of the flesh, respecting for the needs of others, and committing oneself to remaining in community. Benedict’s Rule proved to be so influential that, in one form or another, it still provides the template for the rule of almost every Roman Catholic and Anglican vowed community. Most of us are not prepared to join monastic communities. Even so, there are ways to create a “monastery of the heart,” and, as Joan Chittester’s commentary on the Rule so insightfully suggests, to let Benedict guide even us secular twenty-first century followers of Jesus.
What are some ways we might begin becoming “rich toward God” and seeking “things that are above?” For starters, we can recognize the source of our wealth. The rich man in Jesus’ parable behaved as if he alone were responsible for the abundant produce of the land. In truth, it was the fertile soil, good weather, hard work of his farmhands, and domestic support of his womenfolk that produced the abundance. The same is true for us – all of us. None of us is self-made. If you are sitting here, you have been gifted by God – even if you received no inheritance from your parents, even if you struggled to finish school with scholarships and loans, even if you’ve worked hard every day of your life. Most of us have had supportive families, enough food, and an education provided by other people’s taxes. Our parents took us to the doctor and dentist. We’ve had roads, and street lights, police and fire protection, hospitals and churches. We’ve been fortunate to live in a web – a village if you will – that has helped make us what we are and enabled us to enjoy much good fortune and comparative wealth. None of us lives on the streets, and all of us have a good idea of where our next meal is coming from. Understanding that it is by God’s gift that we have our houses, clothing, food, Kindles, ipods, and whatever, and that we are alive and able to do God’s work is the first step in being “rich towards God.”
Second, we can look at our checkbook. Where are we actually using our resources? Do we have a balanced life? Are we tied down by possessions? Can we simplify our lives? In her commentary on the Benedictine Rule, Chittister reminds us that our possessions tie us to the earth. “They clutter our space; they crimp our hearts; they sour our souls. Benedict says that the answer is that we not allow ourselves to have anything beyond life’s simple staples….” What areas of our lives can we declutter and simplify?
Finally, we need to actively consider how we might share our wealth with others. In the first half of life, that may mean especially providing for the needs of our own families. However, in the second half of life, sharing our wealth should mean considering the needs of others outside our families. In both halves of life, we need to be intentional in our use of oue resources. We need to be intentional in our gifts to the church, as well as to other institutions that we support. John Wesley is reported to have admonished his followers, “Do you not know that God entrusted you with that money (all above what buys necessities for your families) to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to help the stranger, the widow, the fatherless; and, indeed, as far as it will go, to relieve the wants of all mankind? How can you, how dare you, defraud the Lord, by applying it to any other purpose?” Ultimately, being “rich toward God” and using our wealth to seek the “things that are above” mean using our resources to benefit others. If we want to leave a lasting legacy, if we want to ensure that our lives are more than “vanity,” then we must have a plan for how that is to be done – a will. The Book of Common Prayer reminds us all to make wills, younger people to ensure that their dependents are properly provided for, and older people to ensure that their legacy honors God.
How can we, as perishable mortals, be rich toward God? By recognizing God as the source of all that we have and by prayerfully and intentionally using God’s gifts to further God’s agenda in the world. By truly saying and believing that, “All things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.”
Monday, July 8, 2013
One of the Seventy
It was a mud hut in the poorest section of a village I’d never visited before. About halfway through my year as a Fulbright teacher at Baring Christian College in northwest India I had gone to this village with several Indian Christian teachers from the college to visit the Christians there and distribute clothing and books. As in most north Indian villages, the Christians were formerly Untouchables, i.e., people at the bottom of the caste system who traditionally did the dirtiest jobs. My roommate, another American woman, and I were taken to the tiny mud hut. Heaven only knows where the chairs on which we were invited to sit had come from. Of course, the honored American guests could not sit on the rope-strung bed, the only other seating, with everyone else! Then a wizened woman, who looked sixty but was probably at most thirty-five, gingerly placed a hard-boiled egg and a mug of tea in front of each of us. I looked quizzically at one of the teachers who had brought us. How could I eat and drink what had probably cost this family several days’ wages? And was the egg safe? The teacher nodded imperceptibly, “yes.” I ate the egg and drank the tea.
The seventy disciples whom Jesus had sent out to prepare for his coming, as he walked to Jerusalem, may not have had to face eating eggs or drinking tea. However, as observant Jews travelling through Samaritan country, they may well have had to eat things they would never otherwise have considered eating. Who were these seventy? While Matthew, Mark, and Luke all mention Jesus’ sending of the twelve, only Luke mentions this second sending of the seventy (or seventy-two, as some manuscripts have it). An underlying motif in the gospel of Luke is the proclamation of the good news to all people, regardless of class or ethnicity. So the number of these disciples is no doubt symbolic, referring to the Table of the Nations in Genesis 10, i.e., to the entire world. What were their names, and where did they come from? Were they some of those people who had heard Jesus’ call and gladly fell in behind him? Were some of them the wealthy women who were bankrolling Jesus’ ministry? Luke tells us nothing about them. The Western Church has largely ignored them. However, the Eastern Church continues to venerate them. Today there are several different lists of their names. Orthodox churches regularly commemorate their ministry on January 4th, the feast of the Seventy Apostles.
Whoever they were, the seventy were clearly commissioned and sent by Jesus – and with some urgency. The seventy were to serve as an advance party in the countryside between Samaria and Jerusalem, preparing people for Jesus’ coming and proclaiming the peace and salvation that come with reign of God. Bearing Jesus’ authority, they were to do everything that he had done: they were to preach, teach, heal, and proclaim that God’s reign had begun. In commissioning them, Jesus had clearly warned them of the risks and rewards of signing on to his program. They were to travel in pairs. They were to travel light and not stop to socialize along the way. They were to be prepared for hostility and rejection. They were to accept whatever hospitality was offered them. Once settled, they were not to cast around looking for better digs. They were to stay focused on proclaiming the good news. Knowing that the work was more than even they could manage, they were to stay connected with God and continue to ask God to add to their number.
My friends, you and I are here because the seventy disciples did their job very well. As we learn from reading the book of Acts, Luke’s companion volume to the gospel, the seventy, the twelve, and others went out from Jerusalem to Asia Minor and Europe. They created new communities of disciples, and the Way, the Christian faith, went “viral.” In later centuries, they went to China, Japan, India, and the Americas. They proclaimed the good news and, with the authority of Jesus, they preached, taught, and healed. They invited those whom they met, those whose eggs they ate and whose tea they drank, to join Jesus’ fellowship of love. They created communities united not by ties of family, ethnicity, class, color, or even place of birth, but by shared allegiance to Jesus and his mission.
And now we are part of their number. We are part of that number not because we are “members” of the Episcopal Church. Despite what the canons of the Episcopal Church and the Diocese of Southern Ohio say, despite all our concern, in parochial reports, with “members in good standing,” we are not “members” of the church. Your presence in this community is not like your membership in the Rotary Club or the country club, or the book club, or even the AARP. You do not pay dues to this community, and we do not assess you when it’s time to put in a new air conditioning unit or roof. Nor are you here because you have all the right beliefs, or because you understand perfectly all the tenets of the Nicene Creed – not that the Creeds are unimportant. You are not here because you have read enough books about the church, or prayer, or theology. You are here because you have been transformed by God and continue to seek transformation of your life.
We are all here because, through our baptisms, we have committed ourselves to being disciples of Jesus and have accepted his commission to proclaim the good news. We have promised to walk the talk in a world that doesn’t want to hear about Jesus, let alone encourage us to put his teachings into action. We are here because we trust that God has empowered us to bring the good news of God’s love to unexpected places. We are here because we understand that ultimately the work of proclaiming the good news is God’s work, and we are willing to be God’s instruments in that work. Indeed, we are open to letting God be incarnate in us. And we are willing to persist in calling others into the beloved community of Jesus’ disciples.
Do you remember one of the promises we all made in the baptismal covenant: “to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?” As those commissioned and sent by Jesus in our own day, we trust and hope that we will live our lives with such integrity and devotion that others will see Christ in us and will be drawn into fellowship with Christ. We trust and hope that we may be agents of reconciliation and friendship among those with whom we work and live. We trust and hope that our political actions, our votes and our communication with our elected representatives, and our support of social agencies, will enable us to partner with God in bringing in a reign of peace and justice. In addition, as a parish we have a significant ministry of hospitality, not only in Loaves and Fishes but in our support of the groups who use this building. How else might we proclaim the nearness of God’s kingdom? Are there other ways for us to serve the Gallipolis area? For example, can this building serve as a shelter in time of disaster?
Yet we know that there are times when we must also speak our faith, when we must actually say in equivalent twenty-first century language, “The Kingdom of God has come near to you.” Certainly, we must use modern electronic forms of communication. That is why St. Peter’s has a web site and Facebook page. We need to develop other forms of electronic communication, and I hope those of you more knowledgeable in this area than I will suggest new ways for us to proclaim the good news. What sites are you using where St. Peter’s should have a presence? Are there ways to offer Christian formation via electronic media? What forms or times of worship we should be exploring?
Important as electronic media are, in the end we are charged with speaking our faith to real, live people, face to face. Sometimes charismatic preachers can fill the hall for a year or two. Sometimes a glitzy, packaged program will enable a parish briefly to grow. But, believe it or not, a simple word-of-mouth invitation to a relative, neighbor, or friend is the most successful way to encourage people to “come and see.” Is this a community in which people are nurtured spiritually? If so, can you invite someone to join you here? How about inviting someone to join you at the picnic Eucharist in August? How about inviting someone to help with Loaves and Fishes this month? How about inviting someone to refresh their soul in a quiet morning? Can we dare to voice our faith in God’s love and tell others of its reality?
Even when we are asked to drink tea and eat a hard-boiled egg, we are commissioned and sent to proclaim the good news. “Come, labor on. Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain, while all around us waves the golden grain? And to each servant, to each of us, does the Master say, ‘Go work today.’”
The seventy disciples whom Jesus had sent out to prepare for his coming, as he walked to Jerusalem, may not have had to face eating eggs or drinking tea. However, as observant Jews travelling through Samaritan country, they may well have had to eat things they would never otherwise have considered eating. Who were these seventy? While Matthew, Mark, and Luke all mention Jesus’ sending of the twelve, only Luke mentions this second sending of the seventy (or seventy-two, as some manuscripts have it). An underlying motif in the gospel of Luke is the proclamation of the good news to all people, regardless of class or ethnicity. So the number of these disciples is no doubt symbolic, referring to the Table of the Nations in Genesis 10, i.e., to the entire world. What were their names, and where did they come from? Were they some of those people who had heard Jesus’ call and gladly fell in behind him? Were some of them the wealthy women who were bankrolling Jesus’ ministry? Luke tells us nothing about them. The Western Church has largely ignored them. However, the Eastern Church continues to venerate them. Today there are several different lists of their names. Orthodox churches regularly commemorate their ministry on January 4th, the feast of the Seventy Apostles.
Whoever they were, the seventy were clearly commissioned and sent by Jesus – and with some urgency. The seventy were to serve as an advance party in the countryside between Samaria and Jerusalem, preparing people for Jesus’ coming and proclaiming the peace and salvation that come with reign of God. Bearing Jesus’ authority, they were to do everything that he had done: they were to preach, teach, heal, and proclaim that God’s reign had begun. In commissioning them, Jesus had clearly warned them of the risks and rewards of signing on to his program. They were to travel in pairs. They were to travel light and not stop to socialize along the way. They were to be prepared for hostility and rejection. They were to accept whatever hospitality was offered them. Once settled, they were not to cast around looking for better digs. They were to stay focused on proclaiming the good news. Knowing that the work was more than even they could manage, they were to stay connected with God and continue to ask God to add to their number.
My friends, you and I are here because the seventy disciples did their job very well. As we learn from reading the book of Acts, Luke’s companion volume to the gospel, the seventy, the twelve, and others went out from Jerusalem to Asia Minor and Europe. They created new communities of disciples, and the Way, the Christian faith, went “viral.” In later centuries, they went to China, Japan, India, and the Americas. They proclaimed the good news and, with the authority of Jesus, they preached, taught, and healed. They invited those whom they met, those whose eggs they ate and whose tea they drank, to join Jesus’ fellowship of love. They created communities united not by ties of family, ethnicity, class, color, or even place of birth, but by shared allegiance to Jesus and his mission.
And now we are part of their number. We are part of that number not because we are “members” of the Episcopal Church. Despite what the canons of the Episcopal Church and the Diocese of Southern Ohio say, despite all our concern, in parochial reports, with “members in good standing,” we are not “members” of the church. Your presence in this community is not like your membership in the Rotary Club or the country club, or the book club, or even the AARP. You do not pay dues to this community, and we do not assess you when it’s time to put in a new air conditioning unit or roof. Nor are you here because you have all the right beliefs, or because you understand perfectly all the tenets of the Nicene Creed – not that the Creeds are unimportant. You are not here because you have read enough books about the church, or prayer, or theology. You are here because you have been transformed by God and continue to seek transformation of your life.
We are all here because, through our baptisms, we have committed ourselves to being disciples of Jesus and have accepted his commission to proclaim the good news. We have promised to walk the talk in a world that doesn’t want to hear about Jesus, let alone encourage us to put his teachings into action. We are here because we trust that God has empowered us to bring the good news of God’s love to unexpected places. We are here because we understand that ultimately the work of proclaiming the good news is God’s work, and we are willing to be God’s instruments in that work. Indeed, we are open to letting God be incarnate in us. And we are willing to persist in calling others into the beloved community of Jesus’ disciples.
Do you remember one of the promises we all made in the baptismal covenant: “to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?” As those commissioned and sent by Jesus in our own day, we trust and hope that we will live our lives with such integrity and devotion that others will see Christ in us and will be drawn into fellowship with Christ. We trust and hope that we may be agents of reconciliation and friendship among those with whom we work and live. We trust and hope that our political actions, our votes and our communication with our elected representatives, and our support of social agencies, will enable us to partner with God in bringing in a reign of peace and justice. In addition, as a parish we have a significant ministry of hospitality, not only in Loaves and Fishes but in our support of the groups who use this building. How else might we proclaim the nearness of God’s kingdom? Are there other ways for us to serve the Gallipolis area? For example, can this building serve as a shelter in time of disaster?
Yet we know that there are times when we must also speak our faith, when we must actually say in equivalent twenty-first century language, “The Kingdom of God has come near to you.” Certainly, we must use modern electronic forms of communication. That is why St. Peter’s has a web site and Facebook page. We need to develop other forms of electronic communication, and I hope those of you more knowledgeable in this area than I will suggest new ways for us to proclaim the good news. What sites are you using where St. Peter’s should have a presence? Are there ways to offer Christian formation via electronic media? What forms or times of worship we should be exploring?
Important as electronic media are, in the end we are charged with speaking our faith to real, live people, face to face. Sometimes charismatic preachers can fill the hall for a year or two. Sometimes a glitzy, packaged program will enable a parish briefly to grow. But, believe it or not, a simple word-of-mouth invitation to a relative, neighbor, or friend is the most successful way to encourage people to “come and see.” Is this a community in which people are nurtured spiritually? If so, can you invite someone to join you here? How about inviting someone to join you at the picnic Eucharist in August? How about inviting someone to help with Loaves and Fishes this month? How about inviting someone to refresh their soul in a quiet morning? Can we dare to voice our faith in God’s love and tell others of its reality?
Even when we are asked to drink tea and eat a hard-boiled egg, we are commissioned and sent to proclaim the good news. “Come, labor on. Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain, while all around us waves the golden grain? And to each servant, to each of us, does the Master say, ‘Go work today.’”
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
You Gotta Serve Somebody
“You’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed/ You’re gonna have to serve/ somebody/ Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord/ But you’re gonna have to serve somebody.” Do you remember Bob Dylan’s song about making choices? Dylan says, we may be a state trooper, a construction worker, or a preacher, we might wear cotton or silk, drink whiskey or milk, but we all have to make choices. God calls us all. We can turn our backs and refuse to hear God’s call, or we can fall in with God’s people and follow God’s lead. It’s our choice, but “you’re gonna have to serve somebody.”
Young Elisha faced such a choice when Elijah threw his cloak over Elisha’s shoulders. Elisha knew what that gesture meant. He knew that God was calling him to take Elijah’s place. He also knew that taking the prophet’s mantle was a risky choice. Elisha knew that Elijah has spoken truth to power in a culture where truth-telling was unwanted and dangerous. Elijah had publicly that the prophets of Baal were false prophets. He had openly criticized King Ahab for the injustice he had perpetrated. And Elijah had had to flee for his life because Queen Jezebel had put a price on his head.
You can see why young Elisha might have wanted to think twice before accepting Elijah’s mantle. Was Elijah counseling discernment when Elisha asked to first bid his parents farewell? Or perhaps just Elisha needed to settle his affairs before embarking on the prophet’s itinerant life. As he slaughtered his oxen, broke their yokes, and made a great farewell feast with their flesh, clearly he was severing his last ties with his old life. Despite the perils, Elisha had accepted God’s invitation and courageously followed in Elijah’s footsteps.
“You gonna have to serve somebody.” This week we have begun our road trip with Jesus. Jesus has made his choice, no question there. He has “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” He has agreed to endure all that will take place there. However, despite all of Jesus’ teaching, his disciples have yet to understand what following him really means. On the way to Jerusalem, they pass through hostile Samarian country, where Jesus has to remind them that his way involves forgiveness not retribution. The group then encounters three wannabe disciples. All three in their different ways suggest to Jesus’ friends – and to us – something about the choices that Jesus’ disciples must make.
The first wannabe must have been following Peter’s play book, as he naively declares that he will follow Jesus “wherever you go.” “Oh, yeah?” says Jesus, “do you realize that if you do you may not know where or when you’ll sleep or where your next meal will come from?” It’s a warning, perhaps a suggestion that the wannabe disciple needs to discern some more. However, the message is clear for any disciple. You have to choose to follow Jesus, but don’t expect worldly security if you make that choice. Jesus’ way is not for the faint-hearted, nor for those who value personal safety and comfort above all.
On to the next wannabe disciple. When Jesus calls him, this one asks to first bury his father. A reasonable request? Making sure that proper burial rites were carried out, especially for one’s parents, was an important duty in the ancient world. Yet Jesus’ request carried some urgency. And his response suggests that the spiritually alive must choose to answer God’s call now. There can be no procrastination in responding to God’s demands. Jesus’ response also reminds wannabe disciples that traditional relationships are reordered in the Kingdom of God. Family ties must be secondary to bonds within the Body of Christ. Later Christian martyrs understood this aspect of discipleship fully, as they went to their deaths in Roman arenas, despite the pleas of their families to give up the new faith.
The request of the third wannabe disciple also seems reasonable: he wants to bid his family farewell. Elisha asked to do the same thing. However, Jesus warns the man not to have a divided heart. There will always be some reason to delay following Jesus, some obligation pulling you back into the old life. What Jesus tells him – and all of us – is that once we commit ourselves to following Jesus we must not look back to what we had, what we gave up, or what was better about our old life. In the Rule of St. Benedict, new entrants to a monastery are required to surrender every one of their possessions, including their clothing, so as to be able to grow wholeheartedly into the new life of the community. When Jesus calls us, we must set our faces to the work that God is calling us to do, the transformations that God is inviting us to undergo, and the new family that God is bidding us to join.
“You gonna have to serve somebody.” Even Paul had to make a choice. He had had an experience of Jesus’ presence on the road to Damascus. He could have chosen to reject that experience and return to his old life. Instead, he said, “Who are you, Lord?” When he heard Jesus’ answer, he made the fatal choice: to make a radical break with his own past. He then let himself be led into the city where he was baptized by Ananias. Some years later, after proclaiming the gospel to several gentile communities, here he is writing to the newbie Christians in Galatia. In most of this letter he has been rebuking them for following those who want to circumcise them and make them into Jews. Paul reminds them that in Christ they have been freed from the demands of the law. They are not Jews, and they don’t need to be circumcised or do anything else that the law requires. However, they still face a critical choice. They can revert to their old, self-centered pagan ways, or they can live as those who are members of God’s kingdom. They can discipline themselves so that the fruits of the Spirit will grow among them. It is a choice: to be guided by the Spirit or not.
“You gonna have to serve someone.” Dolores Hart was a beautiful and talented actress. At the age of ten, she had joined the Roman Catholic Church. In 1956, at the age of only eighteen, she was signed to play a supporting role as the love interest to Elvis Presley in the 1957 film Loving You. Thereafter, Hart was in frequent demand, and she made two more films before playing with Presley again in 1958's King Creole. Hart went on to make her debut on Broadway. She won a 1959 Theatre World Award as well as a Tony Award nomination. In 1962, she starred in the film The Inspector, in which she played Lisa, a Jewish woman tortured in a Nazi concentration camp.
Although she was engaged to be married, she had begun to hear the invitation to a different kind of life. She had been in Rome, filming Francis of Assisi. While there she met Pope John XXIII. She told him, "I am Dolores Hart, the actress playing Clare." The Pontiff replied, "Tu sei Chiara!" ("No, you are Clare!"). Francis’s sister, Clare too had been beautiful, talented, and wealthy. Yet she followed Francis into a life dedicated to God, founding her own order, the Poor Clares. Now Dolores herself heard God’s call. In 1963, at the age of twenty-four, Dolores entered the Benedictine Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, Connecticut, taking her final vows in 1970. In 2001, she was elected the prioress of the abbey. Dolores was profiled in the documentary God Is the Bigger Elvis, which was nominated for an academy award in 2012. In her autobiography, The Ear of the Heart: An Actress’ Journey From Hollywood to Holy Vows, released just this May, she describes her inspiring journey from a full life in Hollywood to an even fuller life in the monastery.
“You gonna have to serve someone.” Choosing to follow Jesus is never easy – despite our Scripture lessons, or even Dolores Hart’s story. When we hear God’s call, we rightly fear the destabilization of our lives, we wonder what might be coming next, we fear the loss of status, and we fear our choices may make life more difficult for those who are dear to us. Those who think they are called to the ordained ministry must undergo a lengthy period of discernment, involving members of their parish and a diocesan commission. As a requirement of the Wellstreams program, earlier this month I spent a full day discerning whether I felt called to continue in the program. Discernment is healthy and appropriate – and there are many different aids to discernment – so long as we understand that ultimately we must make a choice.
Elisha had to choose whether to follow Elijah. We don’t know what the wannabes in the Gospel decided to do, but, even if they all turned their backs on Jesus, that was a choice. Dolores Hart had to choose. Even I had to sign my name to a piece of paper committing myself to the next phase of the Wellstreams program.
Our lives constantly call us to make choices, to answer God’s call or to fall back into a comfortable status quo. “You gonna have to serve someone.” Who will it be?
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