Loading...Money. You can't live with it. You can't live without it.
The world runs on trade. We barter something, whether that's a gift or talent, a treasure or coin, we offer something for something. It only seems fair.
And there are some who have more and some who have less; some who cling to their wealth and some who share from their lack.
As we just heard in today’s Gospel a young, wealthy man ran to Jesus to learn what he needed to do to have eternal life. He learned that wealth, the appearance of wealth, and the ways one might cling to the things we own, can become a stumbling block to the eternal life he desperately sought. Especially when he could not let go of the "things" he held dear, be they the physical things, like money and other treasure, or emotional, like the status that comes with wealth.
He learned the hard way that eternal life isn’t about things, it is about how we share what we have with a heart of caring for others. It's about how and where we focus our attention--on our stuff or on God. It's about letting go of the things that distract us from loving God and loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.
When I was working through this with Annie, she said it very well: "...here in America, especially, we are taught you aren’t successful until you have money, [a] big house, [a] nice car. But … real wealth comes from spreading the love and helping your neighbors."
Sounds simple, but is it?
My nephew's mom has a business of helping people de-clutter their homes. They pay her to go through their stuff, determining what is essential to their daily life, what memories they must preserve, and how to prioritize those items that bring them joy. Then she sorts, gets rid of items, and organizes their homes or areas within their homes. Her clients are thankful for her help, particularly when they realize that they are immobilized or paralyzed by both the physical and emotional size of the project. Perhaps they have a fear of letting go of something that seems important.
They might wonder what could happen if they get rid of what someone might define as a precious heirloom or something of unknown, but potentially significant value? Is it okay to get rid of that gift from a beloved, even if you’ll never use it or perhaps never even liked it? What if they notice?
We have our ECW (Episcopal Church Women) to help us annually evaluate the things in our homes, providing the opportunity to clear out clutter and share some of our stuff with others at the yard sale that’s coming up at the end of October. Some of you have been collecting items for this sale since last year. Others of us may scramble through our homes looking for things we can do without or are willing to finally part with and will bring them to Gleason Hall sometime during that last full week of October. (Be sure to check the list of what the ECW will and won’t accept!)
While these are brave or necessary acts for some of us, they are not exactly what Jesus expected from the wealthy young man. This wasn’t about de-cluttering. But our de-cluttering might be one way to understand the gravity of what Jesus expects from this young, wealthy man.
He came to Jesus enthusiastically and expectantly to ask Jesus what he must—not can—but must do to gain eternal life. Throughout his life he’s been devout. He lived by the rules; he followed the commandments. And yet, in his heart or maybe in his head, or both, he believed there must be more to gaining eternal life than this. And he runs to Jesus and kneels at his feet, asking to know what the eleven herbs and spices in the secret seasoning are.
Jesus needs to find an answer for this devoted, faithful young man that will challenge him but not alienate him. That will help the young man know that ultimately, getting eternal life has nothing to do with him and everything to do with God.
That, of course, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t follow those two greatest commandments to love God and to love your neighbor as you love yourself.
For the man believed that he was doing those things. He loved God. But he didn’t really understand that his wealth was a stumbling block to loving his neighbors. So, Jesus challenged this young man’s understanding of what it takes by reminding him that maybe, just maybe, he was prioritizing his wealth and all the entitlements that come with wealth over truly caring for others.
And for Jesus, those “others” are the people who were struggling every day with hunger, poverty, illnesses, and immigration status. People who were not included in the day-to-day activities of the community. Who were not welcome at the synagogue or the marketplace. People who lived on the margins: left to beg or scrounge for scraps just to survive another day.
I don’t think Jesus expected the young man to solve the problem of poverty and inequality. Rather I think he wanted to point out to the young man that to truly understand what eternal life might look like, he needed to help create a beloved community by providing from his wealth for the benefit of those whose lives depended on it. And that would mean giving up some of the comforts and privileges that come with wealth. It might mean going without something to provide for another, whether that was an extra tunic, wine, medicine, coins, or a leg of lamb.
The disciples, who had walked away from the lives they had been living to follow Jesus, then wondered if they were better situated for eternal life. I mean, they had given up everything to follow Jesus. Wouldn’t that count for something?
In the end, gaining eternal life, according to what Jesus says in this Gospel, is not determined by works—by what we do; or by knowledge—by how we have come to understand scripture, prophesies and laws. It isn’t about how much money we have or even about how much we’ve given away. It’s not about abandoning our lifestyles and taking a vow of poverty.
Jesus tells the disciples, that “For mortals [earning eternal life] … is impossible,” We can’t make it happen by doing anything specific. Jesus goes on to say that while it is impossible for us, “for God all things are possible.”
That’s grace. Pure grace. Amazing and awesome.
Jesus goes on to say that when we give up our lives to follow him, we will, in the end, receive a “hundred-fold” of what we give up.
I still don’t think that’s about giving up the “things” so much as it is about giving up the way we can sometimes glorify or worship the “things” when we should be focusing instead on glorifying and worshiping God.
Those things that continually distract us from our reliance and dependence on God are what Jesus is telling the rich young man to give up. In this story it seems to be about tangible things and wealth, but I wonder if he’s less concerned with the “things” and more concerned about how the things make us more likely to trust ourselves or trust the stuff or the money instead of trusting God.
I wrote this sermon from the comfort of a house that is too big for the two of us, but roomy enough for visitors to comfortably stay. I was listening to our visiting adult children laughing while they watched a movie in the basement two floors below me. The loft area where I was working is full of things that bring me joy. Books, memorabilia, photos, yarn, art from places we’ve visited and lots of plants. It’s a comfy place to hang out and one of my favorite places to simply “be.”
I can be just as focused on the things and the resources and on my dependence on myself and Jeff. I can get caught in the trap of worrying about money. I don’t want to give away, unlike Kathy Mattea sings in the song I Wear Your Love, “The things I’ve collected, bought or selected; the clutter that fills up my rooms.”[1] I find comfort in the memories and stories that come with them.
I, like so many, might worship what money can do to make my life comfortable and forget that others do not have the same opportunities and privileges I have. I sometimes need to remember the days when we didn’t have the means and abilities to live as comfortably as we do now.
And sometimes I forget that I need to rely on God.
The Hebrews called wealth “Mammon,” naming it to help them recognize that they might worship it, might call it a little “g” god. They did this, perhaps to remind themselves that it is easy to place our focus on something other than big “G” God. It is easy to make “things” into idols.
The wealthy young man came to Jesus to ensure that he had done what was needed to receive eternal life and he left deflated, realizing that even though he thought he was worshiping God in all the right ways, when it came right down to it, he was worshiping—he was idolizing—his wealth and all the comforts that his wealth provided.
Jesus’s challenge to give it all away was to help him realize this.
I know that sometimes I need this reminder. I need to remember that the things I have are just things and not idols, not gods. That most of them are nice to have and honestly, only a few things are truly necessary, but none of it matters if I don’t put God first. Amen.
[1] Mattea, Kathy, album: Time Passes By; 1991, Mercury Records.
