A Trickster Turns His Ways

 

Luke 16:1-13

Proper 20 / Year C

Let me tell you a story from ancient Hebrew folklore:

A poor beggar is caught stealing food and the king orders him to be hanged.  On the way to the gallows the thief tells the executioner he knows how to plant a pomegranate seed in the ground and have it produce fruit the very next day.  “My father taught me this secret,” he says, “and it would be a shame to allow it to die with me.”  This gets back to the king and he orders the prisoner to be brought to him. 

A gathering of the highest officers of state assembles for the demonstration.  The beggar digs a hole in their presence and produces a single seed.  Then he states, “The only way for this secret to work is for a person who has never stolen or taken anything which did not belong to him to place the seed into the ground.”  “Being a convicted thief,” he says, “I can no longer do it.  One of you will have to place the seed in the hole.”  Well, one by one, each high-ranking official, realizing his past misdeeds will be exposed when the seed does not produce fruit the next day, bows out. 

When no one steps forward, the beggar says, “All of you are mighty and powerful and want for nothing and yet you cannot plant the seed, while I, who have stolen a little because I was starving, am going to be hanged.”  The king, pleased with the ruse, pardons the beggar.

This is one of many Hebrew stories demonstrating an affinity for what commentators describe as the “clever trickster.”  The biblical figure Jacob is a trickster patriarch who deceives his father, cheats his brother, and then makes off with the family’s livestock.  Gideon fools a powerful army by making 300 men appear to be 300,000.  And in the parable we just heard, Jesus tells the tale of a person known as the “dishonest steward;” a trickster, if you will, whose shrewd response to his impending dismissal is commended by the master he has failed to serve with fidelity.

To our modern ears the parable sounds like a barbershop quartet off pitch.  It is one thing for Tom Sawyer to con his friends into painting a fence (our version of a clever trickster); it is another to sell out your master’s possessions at a discount.  But if we can separate out the various notes within the chaotic chord of the story, we will find there is something important here for us to hear.  We might learn why Jesus has the master praise the servant.

The parable begins, as several do, with the phrase “There was a rich man…”  But the rich man will not be the central figure in the drama and the story is not a condemnation of his wealth.  No remark will be made about the rich man’s possessions, how he comes to acquire them, or how he uses them to promote the welfare and wellbeing of others.  The wealthy man himself appears to live a life of leisure, not working at all.  We know just two things about him.  He rents out his land to others and he hires a manager to oversee the collection of the rent.

This is a story about the crafty trickster who is hired to oversee the rent collecting.  Although his lifestyle is not described, it does not take much imagining to deduce he is a devil-may-care, live for the moment, loaf.  He has no aspirations for the future.  He does not save for a rainy day.  He is unwilling to do physical labor in order to improve his lot.  He does nothing to further himself intellectually, socially, or spiritually.  He cannot keep current even on his one simple task – collecting the rent.  We get the idea he sits around the master’s house all day with his feet up on the furniture, drinking the best liquor from the master’s cabinet, eating all his gourmet food, and smoking his finest cigars.

The New International Version of the bible puts it best” the steward “was accused of wasting [the rich man’s] possessions.”  He is lost in a frivolous haze of material acquisition and consumption.  His life is wrapped up in the feverish pursuit of more than he really needs, in getting his hands on what no one really needs at all, and not valuing what he has, once he has it.  What he most desires and craves is not what is really important at all, and thus he wastes the precious resources at his disposal.  Everything changes in one dramatic, unexpected moment.  The rich man comes to him with a devastating demand: “Give me an account of your management.” 

Every month I are blessed or cursed with an account of my financial management.  Banks and credit card companies send me statements to tell us what I bought, when I bought it, and how much I paid for it.  More than once I have looked at my statement and wondered for a moment what some of your month-old purchases were for; then it comes to me and I have “buyer’s regret”.  Taken as a whole, these financial documents may just be a record of my squandered wealth.

The demand for an accounting sobers up the dishonest steward.  He comes to see two things very clearly.  First, he recognizes he has not made prudent provision for the future.  Second, he comes to realize he has put possessions before people.

Given these, here are some things for us to ponder.    There is a power for living in the present possible only when you are laying a foundation for the future.  There is fullness to life when the excesses of wealth are directed toward hospitality, compassion, thoughtfulness, and charity.  Don’t be thrifty in your generosity toward others.  Don’t skimp when it comes to saving for tomorrow.  The dishonest steward with an overly lavish, succulent lifestyle comes to these truths late in life, but not too late, and for his insight and change the rich man who dismissed him commends him.

This email was circulated some time ago, but it still makes a relevant point:

Take this quiz:

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five people who won the Nobel Peace Prize.

3. Name the last five Academy Award winners for best actor or best actress.

4. Name the last five winners of the Super Bowl.

How did you do?   The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday.  These are no second-rate achievers.  They are the best in their fields.  But the applause dies.  Awards tarnish.  Achievements are forgotten.  Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Here’s another quiz.  See how you do.

1. List five teachers who aided your journey through school.

2. Name five friends who have helped you through a difficult time.

3. Think of five people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

4. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

Easier?  The Lesson: The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards.  They are the ones that care.

The great thing about this difficult parable is that if a dishonest trickster could come to his senses and get it right, how much easier should it be for folks like you and me!

Accompanying vs. Following

 

Luke 14: 25-33

Proper 18 / Year C

Looking back over my records, I noticed when I was an assistant, every time today’s gospel lesson came up, the rector asked me to preach.  That ought to tell you something!  What Jesus says this morning is difficult to hear.  It would be easier if we could dismiss this passage, but our respect for Holy Scripture—all of it—as being the Word of God does not allow for this.  We must wrestle with it, and with ourselves, if we are going to hear, understand, and apply the life-giving message which is found within all the words of our Lord.

Sometimes the key to understanding a passage lies in what seems to be insignificant, an easy to over-look detail.  Notice the first few words of our lesson: “Large crowds were traveling with Jesus.”  A different translation makes the point more clearly, “Great multitudes accompanied Jesus.”  We don’t find that hard to imagine.  Of course folks were attracted to him.  He healed.  He fed.  He gave interesting sermons.  He confronted injustice, oppression, and religious hypocrisy.  It is easy to understand why lots of people wanted to accompany Jesus.  But there is a huge difference between accompanying and following. 

Many are willing to be served, few are willing to serve.  Many are willing to have Jesus sacrifice for them, few are willing to sacrifice for Jesus.  Many people are willing to hang around, few are willing to be disciples.  Many are willing to let Jesus carry their crosses, few are willing to pick up their own cross and follow him.

So Jesus pauses to address those who are tagging along, whose glossy commitment is shiny, but paper thin.  Jesus knows something they don’t.  He knows there will come a time when they will be dragged from their homes and put on trial because of their association with him.  He knows their families will be beaten and tortured and forced to testify against them.  He knows there will be no middle ground where they will be able to stand half-way between the world and discipleship. 

And so his words, which seem to be harsh, are, in fact, loving.  He reminds them of the true cost of following him.  They will have to be willing to forfeit everything precious to them, even their blood relatives, if they opt to be his disciple.  He tells those who would hitch their cart to his horse they are in for a bumpy ride. 

If those who accompany Jesus are going to buy fully into his program they will need to know the cost.  Jesus says to them, and to us, “If you would be my disciple—not just someone who merely accompanies me, but who devoutly follows me—you must pick up your own cross and walk with me every day in every way.” 

It is a teaching which brings to mind yet another memory, and yes, it involves pain.  I was an avid bicycle rider when we lived in Ohio.  One of my favorite places to ride was in the Cuyahoga River Valley National Park.  You may remember, years ago, the Cuyahoga was so polluted it actually caught on fire.  Those days are long gone and that incident does not do justice to the beauty and the serenity of the valley.  The park is now a wonderful place to visit, especially on a bike.

Getting into the valley by bicycle is no problem because, as you might guess, it is all downhill.  Riding in the valley is, again, no problem because, for the most part, it is flat.  But getting out of the valley, now this is a real physical and mental challenge!  The hills are incredibly long and steep—the kind where your car’s transmission struggles even after it has kicked into low gear.  As I pedaled up those hills my lungs burned with pain and my legs screamed in agony.  Inching forward at a snail’s pace, it can take twenty minutes or longer to get up even the most modest hill out of the valley.  Don’t even ask why not just walk up.  It simply is not an option for a true bicycle rider.

However, the more I rode up out of the valley, I more began to notice something.  With each successive trip, the hills got a little bit easier to manage.  Sure, it still hurt, but the pain was not as severe and it didn’t take nearly as long to recover.  I found myself getting stronger and stronger the more I pushed myself up those hills.

For me, picking up my cross is like that.  It is wonderful to breeze down into the valley of easy living.  It is great to have those moments of peace and serenity.  But there come times, more often and difficult for some than others, when we must pick up our cross and make a grueling journey out of the valley.  How many people have found how many ways to avoid this course?  And yet, we find as we pick up our cross, and the more we pick it up, it is not as burdensome as we feared it would be.  It does not destroy us, but rather makes us stronger. 

Still, there is no way to soft sell it. 

If you are going to follow Jesus, then there are crosses you will have to bear.  You will be asked to grieve with those who mourn.  You will be asked to celebrate with those who are joyful.  You will be asked to give sacrificially of your wealth so the Gospel message might go forth.  You will be asked to serve and to contribute, even when it is not convenient.  You will be asked to forgive when everything inside you screams for vengeance.  You will be asked to confess when all you want to do is hide.  You will be asked to proclaim words of hope when despair abounds.  You will be asked to expose yourself to ridicule by not valuing the things the world values as the world values them.  You will be asked to seek and serve Christ by loving the most unlovable people.  You will be asked to lay down your rights and your privileges and perhaps even your life for the greater good of the Kingdom. 

On the surface it doesn’t sound like much of a bargain, does it?  But Christ has revealed to us the way of the Cross is none other than the way of life.   And Christ himself promises we will not go it alone.  He does not say to us, “Pick up your cross and get going somewhere.”  Rather, he says, “Pick up your cross and follow me.”  If we follow Jesus then we are with Jesus and he is with us and we are never alone and our crosses are so much easier to bear when we walk with the one who has won the ultimate victory.

 

Quid - This!

 

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Proper 17 / Year C

Ah, another gospel reading and another painful, personal memory.  It happened years ago at a clergy conference where meals were served buffet style.  I spied a table with an open seat.  Others had already put down their trays, but had gone off to get a beverage.  I sat down.  A few moments later who should take the place across from me… none other the Peter James Lee, the distinguished bishop of our diocese.  Others from his entourage soon filled the table.  Unknowingly, I had seated myself way above by paygrade.  Surely, I thought, he would rather have as a meal companion almost any other priest in the room.  Well, as I recall, we all had a pleasant enough conversation and at the end I thanked everyone for allowing me to join them. 

Where is the pain you ask?  Well, at the very next meal the same scenario unfolded – open space at a table with trays put down and people gone for beverages.  I sit down.  A few moments later, who should take a seat across from me?  You got it – the bishop.  While it was an innocent mistake on my part, I knew it was a complete overreach to have not one, but two meals in row with the bishop at a clergy conference.  I imagined he was going to say to me, “Keith, I am going to have to ask you to move because I have someone else who wants to eat with me,” but he didn’t.  Phew!  Still, you can be absolutely certain at the next meal (and every meal thereafter) I made sure I saw where the bishop set down his tray so that I could stay as far away from that table as possible.

This morning we find Jesus in the home of a Pharisee sharing an invitation only, communal meal on the Sabbath.  The guests are “watching” Jesus closely.  He too is watching them.  Jesus notices how they jostle for seats to gain positions of honor.  He tells them a parable which ends in a horrible social embarrassment.  “What if your host asks you to move because someone more important than you deserves of your place?”  “Humble yourself and you may just be exulted.  Exult yourself and you may just be humbled”.

Well, it is tempting to interpret this as being no more than a simple lesson in etiquette, but I think something deeper is going on.  In that culture, at meals like the one Jesus is attending, seating position matters.  The closer you are to host, the more important you are (or feel you are).  Your value is determined not by your moral qualities or your hard work or your accomplishments.  It is determined by your physical proximity to the host.

Perhaps the closest thing to this in our day and age is name-dropping.  I have known a few shameless name-droppers and they are all the same.  They feel important because they know or have met someone important.  And, because you have not met that important person, you are not as important as the name-dropper. 

Just as Jesus did not respond well to a presumed sense of personal enrichment, neither do we.  Dr. Carmen Lebherz, of the University of Zurich, devised an ingenious experiment to confirm this.  She sent slightly different email messages to groups of undergraduates in which the sender indicates a desire to meet potential collaborators on a future research project.   

Each group received the same standard information about the researcher’s background, goals, and appropriate personal information. She introduced only one variable.  An email to one group included the addition the sender plays tennis regularly with Roger Federer – one of the all-time greats of the sport.  To a second group she noted she had once met Roger Federer.  To the third she stated she was a fan of Roger Federer.  To the final group she mentioned nothing about the tennis star at all.  

Dr. Lebherz surveyed the email recipients to rate their interest in being research partners with the sender.  Do I even need to tell you the results?  The higher the degree of name-dropping, the lower the desire to be involved with the project.

Jesus, in what he presents to his host, offers a different possibility.  Instead of inviting all these people who are seeking to capitalize off of your position, and who, no doubt, expect you to come to their homes when they host a splashy occasion, why not invite people who can never repay you?

I am sure you are familiar with the Latin phrase quid pro quo – “this for that.”  Just like the adage, “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours,” it implies we live in a transactional economy.  And we do.  The local grocery store is not going to let you walk out with a $2 ear of corn! without paying for it.  Neither are you going to walk in and hand the manager a $20 bill because you just want to give your money to the store.  Quid pro quo.  This for that. 

But Jesus, in his words to his host, directs our attention to a spiritual economy, which is every bit as real and every bit as necessary as the transactional.  “When you host a get-together, do not invite the people who will one day reciprocate.  Look around your community and invite also folks who, most likely, will never be able to repay the favor.”  Jesus invites us to live our lives as quid – this. 

Theologically, it is easy enough to discern the justification for this.  Ponder only slightly what God has given you, done for you, forgiven you, and you will realize you will never be able to sacrifice enough to repay for it all.  What can you do it this: extend God’s mercies which you have been blessed to receive to everyone you know.

Let me finish by sharing with you a wonderful memory not at all associated with being seated in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It has to do with the blessings of hosting a party and who you invite.

So, years ago, when I was serving as an assistant in a parish in Ohio, a couple who had been successful in every way, shape, and form, decided to celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary by taking a month-long cruise around the Mediterranean.  But before they embarked on their well-deserved, dream trip she was diagnosed with cancer.  Family, friends, the church, and the health community rallied to their side, but the trip was canceled.  Thankfully, she responded well to treatment and recovered, but they made the decision not to rebook the trip.

Instead, they decided to throw a massive party at the local country club to thank all their friends and supporters.  I can’t say the guest list was exactly like what Jesus would have drawn it up based on today’s reading, but it did include me, which was reaching low! 

I think about that occasion from time to time.  It was, hands down, the best social event I have ever attended.  The host and the hostess where the happiest, most grace-filled people I have ever witnessed in that position.  They determined they wanted to celebrate the blessings of their life, their marriage, and their health with the widest community possible.  They embodied the Godly ideal of quid – this, without anything expected in return. 

I think about that couple this morning as I ponder Jesus’ counsel to his host and to the guests.  I share it with you as something for you to ponder.  I trust you will not take it as a directive, but as a Godly possibility.  I know you will consider not only it what it means for the parties you host or that you attend, but also how it might affect your witness to your faith in every aspect of your daily life.

 

The Woman Bent Over

 

Luke 13:10-17

Proper 16 / Year C

This morning’s gospel reading about a woman bent over being healed brings to mind a painful personal memory.  My daughter Ellen was around five years old and we were playing in a local swimming pool.  She loved to be picked up and tossed high in the air.  The higher the toss, the bigger the splash!  She would swim right back to me and insisted I throw her again.  She could do this for hours.  I could not.  One time she was swimming beside me and I twisted my back, grabbed hold of her, turned, and tossed.  You don’t have to be clairvoyant to know where this story is going.  I wrenched my lower back.  I bothered me for the better part of a year.  And no, of course I never went to see a doctor. 

It was a stressful time in the life of our family.  My wife was not able to be employed if the field of her choice.  We were losing ground financially.  I was in the midst of searching for a new call and this became known to the parish when a small group of strangers from a search committee showed up in church one Sunday.  There is nothing pleasant about being a lame-duck priest.  And my lower back hurt. 

In my experience, at least, the process of finding a new position as a clergy person is not easy.  It is marked by periods of highs and lows, inactivity and frenzied deadlines.  This long process came to a merciful end when I accepted a call from a church in Richmond, where I served for ten years before coming here. 

I tell you this story because the morning after I accepted that call I woke up, got out of bed, and realized for the first time in over a year my back did not hurt.  What began as a legitimate physical injury was prolonged because emotional stress will always metastasize at the weakest part of our bodies.  Take away the stress and the physical problem may just go away.

Webster’s Dictionary defines ‘psychosomatic’ as “a disorder of the body originating in or aggravated by the psychic or emotional process of the individual.”  It can run the gamut from a mild form of hypochondria to actual blindness or paralysis.  I once read a book were the author contended some people actually develop cancer as a response to emotional stress.  I know of one such person in my ministry who may have had this happen to him.  When his stress was alleviated, he responded positively to treatment.

The text doesn’t tell us what caused the women Jesus meets today to be bent over.  No doubt there is a physical component to her suffering.  But surely there are mental and emotional aspects which contribute to her chronic condition.  She lives in a small village where everyone knows your story and everyone knows your business.  There is no place to hide.  There is nowhere to get away from critical eyes.  And, based on how the religious leaders react to Jesus, there are a lot of well-placed, highly critical people in her community.  It may or may not have caused this woman to be bent over, but you can be sure it contributed to her suffering.

In his book Jesus the Village Psychiatrist, Donald Capps notes there are three different definitions for the word “miracle.”  The first is “an event or action that apparently contradicts known scientific laws and is hence thought to be due to supernatural causes.”  In this sense, a miracle defies explanation.  The second definition is “a remarkable event or thing.”   Used in this manner, a miracle is a marvel.  And the third definition holds “a miracle is a wonderful example.” 

Notice that all three aspects of the word miracle are present in today’s reading.  When the woman is able to stand erect, she begins to praise God.  She senses straight away her healing is due to a divine act.  Jesus, in confronting the religious authorities, treats the event as being a wonderful example of doing good, even and especially on the Sabbath.  And the people who witness all of this rejoice at the “wonderful things” Jesus is doing.

For Jesus there is no time better than right now to alleviate human suffering and indignity.  He demonstrates not just God’s power, but even more so, God’s compassion for each and every one of us.

Where does this holy compassion come from?

In this morning’s first reading we hear God issue a prophetic call to Jeremiah, who is a mere youth at the time.  The Lord justifies this action by saying to the lad, “Before you were in the womb I knew you and before you were born I consecrated you.”  It is amazing to ponder God’s deep love for Jeremiah, and for you and me, began before we even were conceived. 

I recall vividly how powerfully I was overcome with love the very moment the nurse handed our first child to me and I held her.  It was like being hit by a lightning bolt.  And I have been wondering how expectant mothers bond with the person developing in their wombs.  Is there a single moment when you recognize your love for the baby you are carrying or does it grow over time?

Well, thinking back on those times of birth in your life will give you some insight into how God feels about you and why God feels this way.  God rejoices when you rejoice.  God laughs when you laugh.  God weeps when you weep.  God suffers when you suffer.  And when you need it most, God heals when you hurt.  We see this so clearly in what Jesus does for the woman bent over.  No critic or misapplied custom is going to prevent him from restoring her to fulness of life and dignity. 

I pray you will be able look at every person you know and you encounter and recognize him or her as deeply know by God from before conception and completely loved.  And I pray you will have eyes to see yourself in this same light. 

The Times

 

Luke 12:49-56

Proper 15 / Year C

Jesus said, “You know how to interpret the weather, but do not understand the present time.”  He is drawing ever nearer to Jerusalem and despite what he has been telling his followers, they do not understand it will lead to his arrest and crucifixion.  The signs are there, but they don’t see it.  These words of Jesus will take on a new and profound meaning when St. Luke writes his gospel some forty years later.  The Roman army has sacked Jerusalem and burned the Temple.  Judaism is in ruins as a result of its attempted rebellion.  Jesus’ words reverberate across two generations.  Those who led the Hebrews to rise up are fools and hypocrites who did not know how to interpret the times.

President Reagan began a tradition which most have followed since.  From time to time, he invited small groups of historians to the White House to reflect with him on the state of the country and the world.  Presidents, by nature of the job, tend to work day-to-day, but Reagan desired to step back in order to see the bigger picture.

President Biden understands the value of this and recently met with a handful of historians who, for lack of a better phrase, wanted to help him interpret the times.  According to one newspaper article, they focused almost exclusively on the rise of totalitarianism around the world and threats to American democracy.  These scholars compared our times to the era preceding the Civil War and the pre-World War II years in which fascist movements emerged.  They believe we are in perilous times because the systems set in place to prevent the abuse of power are not working and as a result our democracy is in a dangerous position. 

I am glad our president is working to “interpret the present times.”  Seeing what is happening and knowing how to respond to it are not the same thing however. 

Let me suggest a step forward each of us can take.  I offer it from our own Bishop Susan who wrote this on Facebook while attending Lambeth Conference in England this past week.  Lambeth, of course, is a once a decade gathering of Anglican bishops from all over the world: 

The Bishops considered two Lambeth Calls -- one on Reconciliation and one on Human Dignity.  As we considered our call and obligation as a church to work for reconciliation of the world to God, one idea that resonated with me more than anything was this: Even though we are a church that disagrees deeply on some things, our brothers (and sisters) are NOT our enemies.  The bonds of affection unite us.  Even if at times we seem to be walking on different paths, we walk together.  I value this unity more than anything. Even when I am angry with a brother or sister, I cannot disconnect myself from that person.

As we considered the call on Human Dignity, we realized that the Church is in two different places.  Many provinces (in fact, as Archbishop Justin pointed out several times, the majority) recognize marriage as being only between a man and a woman, there are some provinces that recognize same-sex marriage also as being life-giving.  

This is the reality of our Communion.

We were exhorted to hold this reality in tension and allow the Holy Spirit to work a new truth.  And while no formal vote was taken, we all left our discussions with a new sense of hope and with a sense of being in love and charity with our neighbor.  

We now turn our attention to becoming curious about this question: what do those who disagree with us need from us in order to flourish?  How can we pour ourselves out so that the other will live?  I daresay, in our own country, instead of beating the drum of division, if we could only wonder about what it would take for those who differ from us to flourish.  Would we find life in that?

Those with whom we disagree are not our enemies.  What do those who disagree with us need from us in order to flourish?  Are not these what need to affirm and to ask in the context of our present time? 

In four weeks our Suffolk Episcopal congregations will gather for Sunday morning worship here at St. Paul’s with Bishop Susan here to preach and celebrate.  We will be “Remembering Together” the 21^st anniversary of the September 11 attack on our country.  It was an event none of us saw coming.  I remember very clearly the two biggest stories in August 2001 were shark attacks at Florida beaches and President Bush hosting Little League baseball games on the White House lawn.  Never did it dawn on us something so nefarious and world-changing was being put into play.  We did not interpret the times.  Had any one of us known what was being planned we would have shouted from the rooftops in order to prevent it.

I don’t know what the future holds.  When I was ordained they didn’t give me a crystal ball, only a pulpit.  So I will use what I have been given to say “Look around.”  What do you see happening?  How is God calling you as a follower of Jesus and us as a church to respond?  I sense we are in perilous times.  We need to learn how to listen to one another in this place… and then, as our godly gift to the world to share our common life as a witness to our community and to the world. 

 

"I Never Saw this Coming!"

 

Luke 12:13-21

Proper 13/Year C

Someone in the crowd shouts out a request: “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”  Not the type of thing one should broach in a public setting, it may just be the oddest and most awkward thing anyone ever asks of Jesus.  For his part, Jesus’ reaction is swift and visceral: “Who appointed me to be a judge over you?” 

And then he turns to those gathered and says, “Be on guard against all kinds of greed.  There is so much more to life than having a lot of stuff.”  To underscore his point, Jesus then tells a parable about a rich man.

Turns out, the person Jesus describes is the epitome of the American dream.  His business thrives.  He is able to upscale his living arrangements while at the same time saving enough for his retirement.  To borrow the language from last Sunday’s collect, he has mastered things temporal.  All well and good, but in the process he has disregarded the things eternal.

Evidence of this is found in the phrases “he thought to himself,” “I will do this,” “I will do that,” “I will say to my soul…”  His life is a monologue.  No other voice is considered.  No other perspective is pondered.  He is not concerned with what his family might need.  He does not contemplate how he might be of benefit to the wider community.  And most certainly, he never asks what God might be calling him to do.

This week I came across a painting of today’s parable by James B. Janknegt.  You can see it in your bulletin.  The rich man, balding and slightly overweight, is alone in his house feasting on a meal when death comes calling.  In the tiny house next door, a family of eight sits around a table with few provisions, but they are happy.  Framing the scene, the artist depicts the rich man’s house when it was the size of his neighbors, shows it being bulldozed, and then rebuilt as a two-story mansion, compete with a living room and master bedroom.  Also in the frame are renderings of the rich man’s many possessions; things like household appliances, a cellphone, a laptop, and a treadmill.  If you look closely in the living room, you will see a piece of artwork.  It is a statue of a person who, tellingly, does not have a heart.  Notice in the frame’s bottom left-hand corner the rich man’s house is for sale.  He has died and all his possessions will soon belong to someone else. 

Mastering the temporal while losing the eternal.  Jesus puts it this way: “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”  If only someone in the audience had asked a follow-up question: “How does one go about becoming rich toward God?”

That you are here this morning tells me neither the Chinese rocket part falling from the sky landed on you nor did you win the Mega Lottery drawing over the weekend.  Even if you didn’t buy a ticket, my guess is you spent at least a little bit of time fantasizing about what you would do if you won all that much money.  I know I did.  The occasional daydream about money is one thing, obsessing about it is another.

Kathleen Vohs holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology and has a specific interest in the psychological effects of money.  It began for her when she noticed subtle changes in herself once she was out a grad school and earning a living.  For example, she stopped asking friends for rides to the airport and began to take a taxi.  “It was really weird,” she told a reporter.  [Having money] “ends up changing the way you live your life in ways that are not totally expected.  You don’t make a ton of money, you’re not on yachts or other things, but you start making different choices.”  She summed up the changes in her life in this way, “I became more independent and less interdependent.”

Through various experiments involving thousands of subjects, Vohs has concluded people with money on their minds are self-sufficient, self-focused, and anything but selfless.  She states, “In all of our experiments, people who are focused of money are really good at pursuing goals, but they’re not that interpersonally kind or warm.  They’re kind of standoffish, keeping in their own head, not interested in being friends with anyone.”  It is not that they are completely antisocial, actively pushing people away.  She says they are “siloed”, insolated.  “What you get,” she says, “are highly motivated people who are not very socially sensitive.”

Vohs points out she is not talking about wealthy people per se, but about those who are chasing wealth to the near exclusion of everything else in life.  Some wealthy people, she notes, don’t think about money much at all.  They may have money – and lots of it – but it is not their focus.  Sure, it enriches their lives, but it is not what makes them rich.  They would be just as content sitting in Janknegt’s home with the table of eight as in a mansion.  On the other hand, Vohs says there are people of low or modest means who are impoverished, not because of what they lack, but because of their incessant, relentless focus on getting ahead.  Money, and making it, is all they have on their mind.     

Vohs’ research serves to highlight Jesus’ exquisite understanding of human nature.  His character in today’s parable exhibits all of what Vohs has learned through her work.  He is rich in things, but not enriched.  In a world crafted by God to be a dialogue – with one another and with the Divine – his life, as I said, is a monologue. 

There is an ancient saying which holds this: “Everything you have seen, every flower, every bird, every rock will pass away and turn to dust, but that you have seen them will not pass away.”  Something in this holds a partial clue of what it means to be “rich toward God.” 

It bids us to ponder two questions.  First, what do you see… truly see?  And second, what blinds you… occupies your vision to the exclusion of everything else?  Or, it may be you are not blinded, but wrestling with distraction.  It might be greed.  It may be something else.  The rich man never saw anything other than his possessions.  Far be it for me to suggest a better ending to any of Jesus’ parables, but I humbly offer this: After death comes to him, the rich man says to himself, “Well, I never saw this coming!” 

What do you see?

 

Mind before Matter

 

Colossians 1:15-28

Proper 11 / Year C

Have you seen any of the first pictures from the James Webb Telescope?  Looking back in time as much as 13.5 billion years, they are truly amazing.  60 times more powerful than any previous telescope, the clarity of the images and what they capture are stunning.  The telescope itself is a wonder.  Work began on it in 2004.  Thousands of technicians and engineers from 14 different countries invested more than 40 million hours in its development.  The mirror, which consists of 18 hexagonal, gold-coated sections, extends over 21 feet.  It will be able to collect images and data never before available to humankind and I, for one, can’t wait for what it will reveal.

I mentioned last Sunday I took a couple of philosophy classes in college.  One of the more interesting questions debated down through the ages will be fueled anew by what the Webb discovers:  which came first… mind or matter? 

On one side of the question are the materialists who hold at the beginning there was only matter and energy.  Over billions of years, some of this matter developed a consciousness leading eventually (and, up till now, in its highest form) our brains.  On the other side are the idealists who hold before anything was, at the first there was absolute intelligence, pure consciousness.  From this mind all things have come forth.  Those of us who subscribe to the Christian faith are idealists, but not all idealists are Christians (if that makes sense).

Materialism’s greatest challenge is coming to terms with things which cannot be measured and observed through the scientific method, such as aesthetic qualities and moral values.  Pushed to an extreme, a materialist has to admit all these things are subjective, thus leaving us with little more to guide human behavior than relativism – you do what you want to do and I’ll do what I want to do.

Idealism, on the other hand, can lead to dogmatism, where deeply held tenents do not conform to what we know of the visible world.  Someone who states, “Well, the bible says it, so that is good enough for me!”, is making a dogmatic confession.

Generally speaking, there is a third option, which is pragmatism, which holds mind and matter developed together, but by this point in the sermon you are probably wishing I never took a philosophy class, so I’ll move on...

...on to my theology classes.  [Insert groan]  As I said, we Christians are idealists.  Before there was anything, we contend God was.  And, at the beginning, there was with God the Word.  Paul puts it so well in today’s New Testament reading:

Christ Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers-- all things have been created through him and for him.  He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 

Think about what today’s collect asserts when it refers to as God “the fountain of all wisdom.”  It invites us to affirm mind before matter.  And it invites to view the material world as being infused with a design whose architect is God.

If I were to paraphrase the first verse of the bible it might be this: “In the beginning God had a dream…”  God’s dream was a dream of communion with all of creation, but specifically with us, who are created in God’s own image.  All of creation has been called forth with the intentional purpose of being in relationship with God.   And for being in relationship with one another.  God’s dream is for all relationships to mirror what is at the very heart of God’s being as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  For us Christians, it is God’s own self-relationship and God’s dream for us to mirror it which sets our moral compass and fuels our sense of beauty.

The materialistic perspective holds there is no intentionality to the universe.  Matter simply comes to be and developes as it does in accordance with the physical laws of the universe and natural selection, which themselves emerge as guiding principles through no discernable method or meaning.  Not all Christians, but most Episcopalians, would say these laws and principles are tools in the hands of God used to translate dream into reality.

We Christians also hold God’s dream has not unfolded as God hopes.  This morning’s Eucharistic prayer puts it succinctly:  

From the primal elements you brought for the human race, and blessed us with memory, reason, and skill.  You made us the rulers of creation.  But we turned against you, and betrayed your trust; and we turned against one another.

God’s response to this is self-giving.  Paul writes,

For in Christ all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Paul sees it as a one-time event accomplished by Christ’s death on the Cross.  I add to this it is an ongoing reality.  The Cross is God’s definitive demonstration of a willingness to reach out to us for relationship and to remain in communion with us, no matter how much we fail to live into God’s dream.  God is both a dreamer and a realist.  But above all, God loves us with a love that can never be broken.

This is our faith.  It is the story we hold dear.  It is the good news we proclaim.  But we are not dogmatic about it.  The more we learn about God’s creation, the more we learn about God’s dream.  Which brings me back to the Webb Telescope and why I find it to be so thrilling.  If you hold to the bible and only the bible, you will (for example), be forced to believe the sun resides in a chamber in the nighttime from which it emerges in the morning to transverse our sky. 

We Episcopalians follow a path firmly rooted in God as Creator, but loosely holding what we know about God’s magnificent creation and how it has come to be.  A collect on page 827 of the prayer book articulates this well:

Almighty and everlasting God, you made the universe with all its marvelous order, its atoms, worlds, and galaxies, and the infinite complexity of living creatures: Grant that, as we probe the mysteries of your creation, we may come to know you more truly, and more surely fulfill our role in your eternal purpose; in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

I love the notion of every new discovery being an opportunity for us to discern with great clarity how to fulfill our role in God’s eternal purpose.  Unlike some Christians who feel their faith threatened by discovery and the advancement of knowledge, we find it to be an opportunity to ponder how better to understand God’s dream. 

I know our children and grandchildren struggle to navigate the seemingly completing claims of science and faith.  Perhaps you do as well.  I invite you to lift up to them the perspective I have shared with you this morning.  Creation reveals intention.  Creation is the result of God’s dream to share relationship.