From Hoarding To Giving
Sermon
Topsy-Turvy: Living In The Biblical World
Gospel Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third) Cycle C
This story begins with gift -- with blessed gift -- with miraculous, blessed giftedness. And I will even tell you now the theme of the story: if you keep your eye on the giftedness of everything, then you yourself can be a gift, you can be a giver, rather than a hoarder.
Jesus' story begins with a rich man who has abundant gifts. He is described as being already rich; almost redundantly, we are told that he owns extensive lands; and on top of all that, he has just experienced an abundant harvest, very abundant. In fact, the crop was so bountiful that he doesn't just add on to his storage barns, but he tears them down and builds brand new ones! This is a story about blessing upon blessing, gift upon gift, a story about wealth being added to wealth. It's nothing short of miraculous! And here's the big question: What's the man going to do with his tremendous gift?
What are you and I going to do with the tremendous blessings of wealth and abundance that have fallen into our hands? Compared with almost every other country in the world, we Americans are rich, wealthy, having received blessing upon blessing, gift upon gift, wealth upon wealth. What are we going to do with these blessings that are in our possession?
You see, Jesus' story does not condemn possessions. It's greed that Jesus denounces, this anxious holding on to possessions. "Be on your guard against all kinds of greed," Jesus says. And that word for greed comes from the word "more," wanting more and more, never being satisfied. "He who dies with the most toys wins" -- that's greed.
I am guilty of all the seven deadly sins, but of greed I am the most guilty. Oh, not that I'm piling up "toys," although I do have enough of those, too. Rather, my greed is born out of my insecurity about the future. Right now, today, I have plenty. I am satisfied. But will I have enough tomorrow?
Will there be enough for tomorrow? That's what the rich man wonders, too. And so he decides to keep this miraculous, super-abundant harvest all for himself. Because he, like me, wants to be in control.
A man died and his widow requested that two songs be sung at his funeral: "Amazing Grace" and "I Did It My Way." You can't do it, folks. You can't sing both of those songs. If it really is grace, if it really is gift, then you didn't do it. But the rich man thought he was in control; he thought he had produced this magnificent harvest and therefore it was all his to do with as he saw fit.
This rich man wants to control. Did you notice how he even wrested control of the story from Jesus, the teller of the story? Jesus begins his story by talking about this rich man; for example, in verse 17, Jesus the narrator says, "He said," referring to the rich man. But in just a couple of lines Jesus the narrator has disappeared and the rich man himself has taken control of the story. It doesn't say, "The rich man said to himself, 'Self.' " But rather this: "And I will say to my self, 'Self.' " Talk about control! The rich man is not only the subject of the story, he has now become the teller of the story.
Just as he took control of the story, this rich man takes control of the abundant harvest. And because he is now in control, he thinks only about himself and his future. There is no room for thinking about God, who was the giver of this marvelous, extravagant gift, no room for thinking about his less fortunate neighbors with whom he might share his lavish blessing.
At this point in the story the only person he's talking to is himself: "And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' "
The rich man is now the hoarder extraordinaire. Everybody else has been shut out of his life. It's all monologue. He talks only to himself. The rich man thinks to himself, speaks to himself, listens to himself. He has no need for anyone else.
But of course none of us exists as an island. Even if we manage to exclude our neighbor, we can never exclude God. And it is God who now enters the story with a strong word for that rich man: "You fool!"
And remember what the Psalmist said about fools: "Fools say in their hearts, 'There is no God.' " This man has so mismanaged his gifts that he has committed idolatry. He has forgotten the God who gifted him in the first place. He has lived his life without any thought for what God would have him do.
Do you and I say that over and over, "There is no god, there is no god," by the way we live our lives? By our stinginess? By our hoarding of the many gifts and blessings which God has showered down upon us, and we think that they are all just for us. No desire to share, or at least not very much, maybe we'll share just a token of our blessings, say one or two per cent of our income. No need to worry about the neighbor who has less.
Those pension statements come in the mail every three months, and every time we slit open the envelope we should open up our ears to listen for the voice that says, "Fool!" Because we look at the amount that has accumulated in that pension fund and we look at that projected monthly income at our retirement at age 65, and we say to our soul, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry."
The voice that calls us "fool" should also direct us to open up our Bible to Isaiah 22, verse 14, where that Epicurean advice is quoted with a word of judgment, "Let us eat and drink for tomorrow we die." Now death enters the rich man's story, and my story, and your story -- death the great teacher. This super-abundant harvest, which the rich man thought would last him for the rest of his life, didn't even help him make it through the night!
Would you and I live our lives differently if we had a constant, full awareness of our death at all times? Just ask yourself two questions: "What is important to you?" and "How do you spend your time and money?" Do we spend our time and money on those things which we believe are ultimately important to us?
Walker Percy, the Catholic novelist, writes about the threat of death being a great teacher: Look at that commuter on the train, he says, pick any man. His needs and drives are met, he's got a good home, a wife and family who love him, meaningful work -- and yet he often feels bad but doesn't know the reason why. But then, let's say, he has a heart attack, he's taken off the train and he wakes up in a strange hospital -- and "then he comes to himself for the first time in years, perhaps in his life, and begins to gaze at his own hand with a sense of wonder and delight."
Karl Barth, the theologian, often liked to describe a procession of people, traveling out to the cemetary, saying some words over a grave, and then everyone returning home -- everyone but us. Some day you and I are going to die. No amount of hoarding can keep that from happening.
Hear the Good News. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die" is not the Christian perspective. The Christian view of death is that God in Jesus Christ has conquered death. That's the Easter Good News. And that victory over death is a gift which God has made available to everyone.
And if you keep your eye on that giftedness, if you keep your eye on God who is the giver of all good gifts, then you yourself can be a gift, you can be a giver, rather than a hoarder. John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, when he was a student at Oxford, had an income of thirty pounds a year. He lived on 28 and gave two away. Later, when his income increased to sixty, then ninety, then 120 pounds a year, he still lived on 28 and gave the rest away.
As a minister, I have discovered that there is never a correlation between a person's income and how much that person gives away. It is not a matter of the more a person has the more she gives, or the less a person has the less she gives. Rather, the giving is related to something else. It has to do with an awareness of being given to, it has to do with gratitude, this realization that what I have is not just my own, but rather it's a gift from God.
Yes, you can eat -- what you need. Yes, you can drink -- but not at the expense of your brothers and sisters. And most certainly you can be merry in this world -- not because tomorrow we're going to die, but because tomorrow we're going to live -- and the next day and the day after that. We are going to live for the rest of time and beyond time!
It is that gospel, that Good News, that can transform our greed. When Jesus tells this story of the rich man, he has already set his face toward Jerusalem and the cross that waits for him there, the cross where Jesus gives away everything that he has to give -- he gives it away for us. And that's what moves you and me to be givers -- not the demand to give, but rather the awareness of how much you and I have been given to.
Jesus' story begins with a rich man who has abundant gifts. He is described as being already rich; almost redundantly, we are told that he owns extensive lands; and on top of all that, he has just experienced an abundant harvest, very abundant. In fact, the crop was so bountiful that he doesn't just add on to his storage barns, but he tears them down and builds brand new ones! This is a story about blessing upon blessing, gift upon gift, a story about wealth being added to wealth. It's nothing short of miraculous! And here's the big question: What's the man going to do with his tremendous gift?
What are you and I going to do with the tremendous blessings of wealth and abundance that have fallen into our hands? Compared with almost every other country in the world, we Americans are rich, wealthy, having received blessing upon blessing, gift upon gift, wealth upon wealth. What are we going to do with these blessings that are in our possession?
You see, Jesus' story does not condemn possessions. It's greed that Jesus denounces, this anxious holding on to possessions. "Be on your guard against all kinds of greed," Jesus says. And that word for greed comes from the word "more," wanting more and more, never being satisfied. "He who dies with the most toys wins" -- that's greed.
I am guilty of all the seven deadly sins, but of greed I am the most guilty. Oh, not that I'm piling up "toys," although I do have enough of those, too. Rather, my greed is born out of my insecurity about the future. Right now, today, I have plenty. I am satisfied. But will I have enough tomorrow?
Will there be enough for tomorrow? That's what the rich man wonders, too. And so he decides to keep this miraculous, super-abundant harvest all for himself. Because he, like me, wants to be in control.
A man died and his widow requested that two songs be sung at his funeral: "Amazing Grace" and "I Did It My Way." You can't do it, folks. You can't sing both of those songs. If it really is grace, if it really is gift, then you didn't do it. But the rich man thought he was in control; he thought he had produced this magnificent harvest and therefore it was all his to do with as he saw fit.
This rich man wants to control. Did you notice how he even wrested control of the story from Jesus, the teller of the story? Jesus begins his story by talking about this rich man; for example, in verse 17, Jesus the narrator says, "He said," referring to the rich man. But in just a couple of lines Jesus the narrator has disappeared and the rich man himself has taken control of the story. It doesn't say, "The rich man said to himself, 'Self.' " But rather this: "And I will say to my self, 'Self.' " Talk about control! The rich man is not only the subject of the story, he has now become the teller of the story.
Just as he took control of the story, this rich man takes control of the abundant harvest. And because he is now in control, he thinks only about himself and his future. There is no room for thinking about God, who was the giver of this marvelous, extravagant gift, no room for thinking about his less fortunate neighbors with whom he might share his lavish blessing.
At this point in the story the only person he's talking to is himself: "And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' "
The rich man is now the hoarder extraordinaire. Everybody else has been shut out of his life. It's all monologue. He talks only to himself. The rich man thinks to himself, speaks to himself, listens to himself. He has no need for anyone else.
But of course none of us exists as an island. Even if we manage to exclude our neighbor, we can never exclude God. And it is God who now enters the story with a strong word for that rich man: "You fool!"
And remember what the Psalmist said about fools: "Fools say in their hearts, 'There is no God.' " This man has so mismanaged his gifts that he has committed idolatry. He has forgotten the God who gifted him in the first place. He has lived his life without any thought for what God would have him do.
Do you and I say that over and over, "There is no god, there is no god," by the way we live our lives? By our stinginess? By our hoarding of the many gifts and blessings which God has showered down upon us, and we think that they are all just for us. No desire to share, or at least not very much, maybe we'll share just a token of our blessings, say one or two per cent of our income. No need to worry about the neighbor who has less.
Those pension statements come in the mail every three months, and every time we slit open the envelope we should open up our ears to listen for the voice that says, "Fool!" Because we look at the amount that has accumulated in that pension fund and we look at that projected monthly income at our retirement at age 65, and we say to our soul, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry."
The voice that calls us "fool" should also direct us to open up our Bible to Isaiah 22, verse 14, where that Epicurean advice is quoted with a word of judgment, "Let us eat and drink for tomorrow we die." Now death enters the rich man's story, and my story, and your story -- death the great teacher. This super-abundant harvest, which the rich man thought would last him for the rest of his life, didn't even help him make it through the night!
Would you and I live our lives differently if we had a constant, full awareness of our death at all times? Just ask yourself two questions: "What is important to you?" and "How do you spend your time and money?" Do we spend our time and money on those things which we believe are ultimately important to us?
Walker Percy, the Catholic novelist, writes about the threat of death being a great teacher: Look at that commuter on the train, he says, pick any man. His needs and drives are met, he's got a good home, a wife and family who love him, meaningful work -- and yet he often feels bad but doesn't know the reason why. But then, let's say, he has a heart attack, he's taken off the train and he wakes up in a strange hospital -- and "then he comes to himself for the first time in years, perhaps in his life, and begins to gaze at his own hand with a sense of wonder and delight."
Karl Barth, the theologian, often liked to describe a procession of people, traveling out to the cemetary, saying some words over a grave, and then everyone returning home -- everyone but us. Some day you and I are going to die. No amount of hoarding can keep that from happening.
Hear the Good News. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die" is not the Christian perspective. The Christian view of death is that God in Jesus Christ has conquered death. That's the Easter Good News. And that victory over death is a gift which God has made available to everyone.
And if you keep your eye on that giftedness, if you keep your eye on God who is the giver of all good gifts, then you yourself can be a gift, you can be a giver, rather than a hoarder. John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, when he was a student at Oxford, had an income of thirty pounds a year. He lived on 28 and gave two away. Later, when his income increased to sixty, then ninety, then 120 pounds a year, he still lived on 28 and gave the rest away.
As a minister, I have discovered that there is never a correlation between a person's income and how much that person gives away. It is not a matter of the more a person has the more she gives, or the less a person has the less she gives. Rather, the giving is related to something else. It has to do with an awareness of being given to, it has to do with gratitude, this realization that what I have is not just my own, but rather it's a gift from God.
Yes, you can eat -- what you need. Yes, you can drink -- but not at the expense of your brothers and sisters. And most certainly you can be merry in this world -- not because tomorrow we're going to die, but because tomorrow we're going to live -- and the next day and the day after that. We are going to live for the rest of time and beyond time!
It is that gospel, that Good News, that can transform our greed. When Jesus tells this story of the rich man, he has already set his face toward Jerusalem and the cross that waits for him there, the cross where Jesus gives away everything that he has to give -- he gives it away for us. And that's what moves you and me to be givers -- not the demand to give, but rather the awareness of how much you and I have been given to.
