Loading...My parents were born during the Great Depression, when food and jobs were scarce. They lived their early lives during World War Two, when the Make it Do campaign during the rubber shortage meant rubber and other items were rationed to support the war effort.
My dad’s maternal family were generally self-sufficient farmers, raising roaming cattle on their acres of land nestled between two bluffs in what we call a “coulee.” You might call it a “holler.” Kids piled high in a small house, they tended their land, their gardens, and their animals for survival. The land transferred, over time, to two of the brothers, who continued to make do with what they had and with what the land would provide, until their deaths. My parents now own half of that land.
My paternal grandfather left the family ranch in North Dakota, taking a job with Western Union, bringing the Mississippi River Valley into the age of modernized communications with telegraph lines, and then, working with Ma Bell, telephone lines. It is here he fell in love with Helen, married and started a family, living in a house built on a piece of that coulee land.
My mom’s family were entrepreneurs, owning a bar and grill in one little river town, then a motel, and ultimately purchasing about 70 acres of land, on the side of another of those bluffs in the 1950’s to build a motel and mobile home park. According to my mom, in all the places they lived, they seemed to always have chickens and a garden, growing what they could put up in the cellar to eat throughout the year, when the snow came and the cold froze the ground.
My parents are also entrepreneurs. My dad seems to have always been in sales. One of his earliest jobs as a teenager was selling shoes at the local J. C. Penney store. After his time in the Navy during the Korean War, he sold RCA records, then Panasonic products, and ultimately, gift wares. My mom became his business partner, doing the books and all the paperwork, since they formed their own company in 1970. Over the decades, my dad has gotten samples of the gift wares he sold, and one of his most favorite things to do is find deals at garage sales and auctions. His next favorite thing is to try to sell those items at a profit.
I understand why my dad scrounges and collects stuff that might have a use one day. Living through part of the Depression and the Second World War instilled a deep need to be prepared. Sometimes, those items he has saved or scrounged come in handy in his art, his handiwork, and even, to repair or build something. You never know if in all his jars of nuts and bolts, or scraps of wood, or thingamabobs he has saved there might be an obscure one needed that is “just right” for the next thing on the to-do list.
Lucky for them, when they built their home on what once was half of his grandparent’s land, they also built a pole barn, complete with a workshop, garage, and tall barn that once held their motorhome. He has room for all his collections.
I learned from my mom how to plan grocery trips with a detailed list built according to the store sales flyers, stocking up supplies—enough to keep the Meyers family of five fed for at least three months. She would water-bath can tomatoes every year, make substantive meals planning for leftovers, and buy in bulk to fill the pantry and the freezer. We never went hungry.
They both grew up in a time when if you hadn’t planned ahead, you just might not have what you needed when you needed it.
My dad loves the thrill of the hunt, whether it is at a garage sale or when he does the grocery shopping. He always watches for the bargain, looks for the hidden treasure in a box, and is quite good at spotting them.
He loves to barter and dicker with sellers, and with buyers who come to his massive garage sales. He wants a good price and sometimes won’t let an item go if he thinks he can get more for it, which means it will sometimes linger, for decades, unsold, taking up space.
One of my brothers just doesn’t understand why dad won’t take what he can get for these items. My other brother and I might understand dad’s stubbornness a little bit more, but as the years go on, we all want him to just get rid of these treasures at whatever price he can get.
Now, I have seen dad give things away. He befriends students working at the grocery store and will bring them things he thinks they will enjoy. He makes unique art in his workshop, pouring his heart into items for family and friends, gifting them with his signature doodle self-portrait, a special note, the date, and his name on the back. He made hundreds of crosses to give away, commemorating the 150th anniversary of their church. He’s built a blessing box that resembles their church, installed there to hold food for those in need in the community. He made a box that also looks like the church that is used each Sunday for people to place a donation in with their thanksgivings and prayer requests during the announcements.
Even at 93, he keeps busy with crafty projects and holding garage sales. But now, he is doing more to eliminate some of his collections, so my brothers and I are not burdened by the abundance of stuff he has collected when he is gone.
Because the thing is, we never, ever see a U-Haul filled with stuff following a hearse. We can’t take it with us.
Our Gospel this morning reminds us that we might have an unhealthy relationship with accumulating stuff, whether that’s food, possessions, stocks & bonds, property, crafting supplies, or money. Many of us have been told of the importance of being prepared for rainy days or retirement or emergencies, setting ourselves up with the expectation of living long enough to enjoy our longevity in some level of comfort. And while we think that is prudent and wise, we just might forget that we don’t have control of the number of heartbeats or breaths we have been given.
Jesus warns away from being concerned about collecting and saving for our future. And that, even with prudent investing in our unknown, hoped-for futures, our priorities might be out of sync if we forget that our abundance comes from God.
Because our STUFF might be distracting us from what is most important: Loving God. Being in relationship with God through prayer, worship, song, fellowship, and praise. And Jesus says, the second is like it, loving our neighbors as we love ourselves. Wanting, at the bare minimum, for others what we want for ourselves. Loving all whom God has created with compassion, humility, and mercy. Feeding others, in all aspects of that word, with justice, kindness, and love.
Jesus reminds us that our pole barns, our garages, our storage lockers, our homes … our hearts, need to be filled with the knowledge and love of God. That when we are in relationship with the Holy One in our midst, no matter how much we own, we are rich because of the abundant love of God.
But we are not supposed to hoard that love. We aren’t supposed to build bigger barns to store love or cling to it.
Nope. Jesus reminds us that love is nothing until we give it away.
And so, I want to give each of you a token to remind you that you are loved abundantly by a life-giving, merciful, forgiving, providing God. And while this token is offered from my hand to you, it was made by my dad, who has been asking me to give it to you.
