You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!
I heard a story about a preacher who got
a Monday morning phone call from someone in his congregation. It seems that the man was in a bit of a panic
because his daughter had just decided to drop out of graduate school.
It was odd, her father thought. She had come home for the weekend and had
even been in church that Sunday.
Everyone in the family was shocked by her decision, and so he was asking
the preacher to give the young woman a call and “talk some sense into her.”
So the preacher did. He reminded her
how hard she had worked to get into graduate school and how she should not just
throw it all away.
”What inspired this decision anyway?”
he asked.
“Well, it was your sermon,” she replied.
Then she told him how she had realized that
she was only in graduate school to meet her own selfish needs and her parents’
expectations. She told him that the
sermon he had preached on how God is calling everyone to do something important
in this life had shaken something loose in her.
She
told him how she had remembered feeling so enriched and worthwhile during the
mission trip the youth group had gone on a couple of summers ago – how close
she had felt to God then and how she intuitively knew that she was making a
difference in the world. She told him
that she wanted to feel that way all the time and had concluded – right there
in the middle of the sermon - that she would not find what she was looking for in
graduate school or in the profession her degree would lead to.
The
preacher listened intently and then said to the young woman gently and most paternally,
“I am flattered, my dear, that you took my words so seriously, but remember…it
was just a sermon…”
“Go
and sell all of your things and give them to the poor,” Jesus had said. Were those shocking words of Jesus “just a sermon” too?
That
would be convenient now, wouldn’t it?
Seriously though: if we are
honest with ourselves, we have got to admit that we are always tempted to
monkey around with these verses, working overtime to convince ourselves that
they do not really mean what they say. “Go and sell all of your things and give
them to the poor”: It is just a sermon, right?
It
is almost irresistible not to
soften the demands that Jesus’ words place upon us, and that tendency has been around
for a long, long time. For instance, a
ninth-century Biblical interpreter fabricated the idea of a low gate into
Jerusalem called "the eye of the needle." It was so low, he
conjectured, that camels could pass through it only if they stooped and were
not laden down with baggage. For that
particular Biblical scholar, it was an easy segue into the presumption Jesus
was criticizing only the proud rich (those too proud to stoop), or only the
rich who were not motivated enough to enter the kingdom. Interesting slant to the story! Unfortunately, no archeological evidence for such
a gate exists.
Then
there are the preachers who have told us that, as seminary professor Matt
Skinner noted, Jesus did something akin to looking into a crystal ball and
seeing that “wealth was this particular man's special ‘weak spot,’ zeroing in
on it only to expose the man's distinctive shortcoming, thereby giving us
permission to assume that Jesus would not ask us to part with our possessions,
just those things that we really
do not want to give up--only our aggressive driving or fried foods, for
example.”
Or there are the preachers who assert that
Jesus’ is merely testing the man, preaching a guilt-inducing sermon, but just a
sermon none-the-less.
However,
as Skinner goes on to say, “Jesus' explanation is rather clear: just as large
animals simply do not fit through tiny openings, so the wealthy do not fit in
the kingdom of God. Even a rich man who has successfully kept all the (commandments)
governing social responsibilities, as this devout man has, cannot fit.”
In
the end, it is not rocket science. Even
a camel could figure it out. A
preoccupation with financial resources and the Kingdom of which Jesus preached
and sought to usher in – have nothing – nothing in common.
What
are we to do? We who are poised at the
corner of grateful and generous, what we are we to do? We who are Americans with income levels –
both collectively and individually – that surpass the rest of the world – and
if you do not think that applies to you, check out www.globalrichlist.com and see where
you stand – we who are Americans, what are we to do?
Surely
Jesus would know better than to set the bar that high. Surely he would understand the ramifications
of connecting the kingdom we all so desire with our willingness to part with
our possessions. That would not be very
user-friendly of him and, besides, if he wanted us to take his words that
seriously, why, he would need to realize that his church would be empty
overnight. It is just a sermon, right?
And
yet, and yet…. “Wealth and generosity; money and abundant sharing; riches and
giving it away: The combination of these concepts lies at the very heart of
Jesus’ teaching. (He tells us over and over again that) the richest person in
the world is the person who gives it away. Jesus teaches us to give away love.
To give away time. To give away (one’s) self. St. Francis, in the spirit of
Jesus, said it well when he wrote: ‘for it is in giving that we receive. It is
in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born again to
Eternal Life.’ (Edward Markquart)
Once
upon a time, there was a young man. His
name was not Bill Gates of Microsoft or Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook or Travis
Kalinick of Uber. He did not live in
Silicon Valley. He did not develop an ap
and sell it to Google for a million dollars.
He
was a teacher – or a plumber – or a data entry operator – or a med tech here in
the USA. He was religious too – in the
sense that he went to church sometimes – but more than that he cared about the
world. He recycled, and he planned to
have solar collectors on the roof of the home he someday hoped to own. He had gone to Safe Passage once and worked
with Guatemalan children living in the City dump. He did not cheat on his taxes and would never
have stooped so low as to leer at the blonde in the cubicle next to his –
lovely though she was.
One
day, as our young man was jogging down the city streets where he lived with his
dog, he met Jesus, certainly not someone he was expecting to meet, and even
before he caught his breath, he found himself kneeling, kneeling like every
other person in need of healing had once knelt before Jesus, kneeling like the
lepers and the blind beggars and sick and the halt and the lame had once
kneeled.
And
kneeling, he asked a question that had long been on his mind. He cut to the chase because his heart was so
in need of healing. He grabbed at the
opportunity because, really, how often do you meet Jesus when you are out for
your morning run?
“Yo,
Jesus. I am in a sort of holding pattern
here. I get up each day, go for my
morning run, go to work, come home, enter the day’s expenditures in my new
budget software, watch a movie on Netflix, and go to bed. It is not that I am bored, but I am just
wondering what comes next? How do I move
to the next level? What must I do to
inherit eternal life?”
Though
the question was thoughtful and heartfelt, Jesus responded with a
disappointingly stock answer: “Keep the
commandments. No murdering,
stealing. No adultery or cheating of any
sort. No false accusations – you know,
pointing the finger and laying the blame on someone else. And be respectful, especially of your Mom and
Dad.” And with that, Jesus started to step
around our young man and headed toward the bagel shop on the next block.
However,
like I said, how often do you meet Jesus on your morning run? No wonder the rich man would not let him go
that easily. “Seriously, Jesus? I have done all these things. Are you saying that I am a cinch for heaven?”
And
Jesus stopped then in his tracks and turned to face the young man. “You lack one thing,” he said.
“Lack?”
he thought. “What do I lack? I have a flat screen TV. I have money to pay my bills – most of the
time. I conscientiously budget.”
What
did our young man lack? The capacity to
appreciate his own abundance? A
consciousness of others’ scarcity?
“You
lack one thing, “Jesus said as he looked at him with love – because Jesus
always looks with love at anyone who is trying so hard to follow in his
way.
But
alas! Love does not always point to the easy way. Sometimes love is hard. Sometimes love is tough. Sometimes what is said in love is the most difficult
medicine to swallow.
Go,
sell, give, follow: In a nutshell, that
was both Jesus’ advice and his admonition.
“Seriously,
Jesus? This is just a sermon, right?”
Go,
sell, give, follow. If it is a sermon,
it is a sermon less about money and more about discipleship. If it is a sermon, it is a sermon less about
what we think we do not have and more about how grateful and generous we will
choose to be with what we do have. If it is a sermon, it is a sermon about what
needs to happen to us before we can really follow the Way Jesus sets out for us.
If it is a sermon, it is a sermon about building
up the human community through abundant sharing, about riches and giving them
away, about gratefulness and generosity.
Go:
Go from this place, from the safety of these four walls. Go from this sanctuary, from this place of
hiding or at least of safekeeping. Go
through those doors with your eyes wide open.
Go and look into the faces of those who panhandle on the street corners
in Portland. They all have a story, you know. Go and see what happens to the toilet paper
and canned goods you leave in the Vestry for the food pantry. Real people come in and shop for them, you
know. Go and seek out the world you do
not want to see – the world where children hold out empty bowls, where refugees
are crammed into leaking ferry boats, where young girls are married off while
still in the single digits. Go….
Sell: Get rid of everything that shuts off a
living, breathing relationship with God.
Unencumber yourself from all that attaches you to the distorted views of
your culture and detaches you from God.
Let go of that which blinds you to the way of Jesus, for you are surely
at a fork in the road. And, above all,
do not say that you have nothing to sell – that everything you have is a
necessity. After all, you are an
American. Not that Jesus called you to a
life of poverty, but he did call you to a live of discipleship, and how can you
be a follower if you do not leave some of it behind you – if, for no other
reason, than to know viscerally what it is like to not have everything you may
want. You have more than enough! Really.
Sell….
Give: Jesus did not say to burn the stuff you do
not need – or throw it away in the closest dumpster. He said to give it away – to the poor. And when you speak in those terms, it really
does come down to money, so listen to what theologian Frederick Buechner had to
say about it: “MONEY - The
more you think about it, the less you understand it. The paper it's printed on isn't worth a red
cent. There was a time you could take it to the bank and get gold or silver for
it, but all you'd get now would be a blank stare.
If
the government declared that the leaves of the trees were money so there would
be enough for everybody, money would be worthless. It has worth only if there
is not enough for everybody. It has worth only because the government declares
that it has worth and because people trust the government in that one
particular although in every other particular they wouldn't trust it around the
corner.
The
value of money (Buechner writes), like stocks and bonds, goes up and down for
reasons not even the experts can explain and at moments nobody can predict, so
you can be a millionaire one moment and a pauper the next without lifting a
finger. Great fortunes can be made and lost completely on paper. There is more
concrete reality in a baby's throwing its rattle out of the crib.
There
are people who use up their entire lives making money so they can enjoy the
lives they have entirely used up.” Give….
Follow: Only after you have done those things, only
then can you follow, really follow – only when you have gone, when you have
sold, and when you have given.
This
is just a sermon, right?
We
all know how the story ends. Our young
man stands back up and shakes his head.
He cannot do it. He is sorry, but
he cannot do it. After all, his name is
not Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg or Travis Kalinick. He does not live in Silicon Valley. He never did develop an ap and sell it to
Google for a million dollars. He is a
teacher – or a plumber – or a data entry operator – or a med tech. What could he possibly sell – or give? He needs it all. So he tugs on the leash and he and his dog continue
their run, and Jesus walks into the bagel shop.
Theology
professor Paul Wadell once wrote an article on this Bible story. In it, he observed that the young man knows
in his heart that Jesus is right, and that knowledge is what makes him sad and
grieving as he (goes) back to what he has not found satisfying all along.
However,
Wadell goes on to observe that "Love is a way of seeing, and those who
love us best see us best," so "Jesus sees him as he truly is, but in
a way that the young man is not yet capable of seeing himself."
I
like to think that in the days that followed, the man rethought his decision to
return to his old way of existing and eventually chose instead to go, sell,
give, and follow. And when he did, he
found that his life had far more meaning than he could ever have imagined.
As
Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote, “Our souls are not hungry for fame, comfort,
wealth, or power. Those rewards create almost as many problems as they
solve.
Our souls are hungry for meaning,
for the sense that we have figured out how to live so that our lives matter, so
that the world will be at least a little bit different for our having passed
through."
Perhaps
someday, we too will rethink our decision as well, we who stand at the corner
of grateful and generous. I hope so –
because, in the end, going, selling, giving, and following is not just a
sermon. It is not just a way of life
even. It is the only way of life that will ensure that the world is
transformed – as God intended it to be.
In
closing now - listen to this prayer by theologian Henri Nouwen:
Dear God,
I am so afraid to open my
clenched fists! Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to? Who will
I be when I stand before you with empty hands? Please help me to gradually open
my hands and to discover that I am not what I own, but what you want to give
me. And what you want to give me is love, unconditional, everlasting love. Amen.
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church U.C.C., Raymond, Maine
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