Sermon by Torin Eikler
I Timothy 6:6-19 Luke 16:19-31
Some time ago, Carrie introduced you all to something called Therapeutic Moralistic Deism, and since you all remember every word of every sermon we preach, I probably don’t need to tell you what that means. But, I’ll give you a short summary anyway … just to refresh your memory.
Therapeutic Moralistic Deism is the name of a new and very popular theology that has settled in and taken root in most of the denominations in this country. It recognizes five basic tenets:
1. that a creator God exists who watches over human life,
2. that said God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other,
3. that the central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself,
4. that God does not really need to be involved in our lives except when needed
to resolve a problem, and
5. that good people go to heaven when they die.
As I said, this theology has crept into most Christian churches and is especially popular among younger members though many of us have embraced it to some extent. If you are wondering whether that’s true for you or not, ask yourself what it is about those five tenets (if anything) that makes you feel uncomfortable. For myself, I would have to admit that I have no problem accepting three of them. I do believe that God watches over us, wants us to be good people, and welcomes good people into heaven when they die – all of which is in keeping with Christ’s teaching and long-standing Christian theology. What I have trouble with are #s 3 and 4 on the list.
I do not believe that the central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself. Nor am I comfortable with the image of a God who is just hanging around waiting to help us out when we ask … say for another couple hundred dollars to get that what’s-it we’ve been saving for. That’s close to the opposite of what I have been taught as an Anabaptist. I believe that God is intimately and compassionately involved in shaping this world, and that our highest calling is to be hands, feet, and hearts in service God and our neighbors in Christ’s name.
And yet, that watered-down anthropocentric God who exists primarily to bless believers is at the center of more and more congregations around the world. That’s the God at the center of churches that teach a “gospel of prosperity” rooted in a misinterpretation of the promise in Deuteronomy that reads, “if you heed [the commandments] of God by diligently observing them … the Lord will [bless you, protect you, and increase your wealth] – one that has even exchanged the need for obedience with the blanket forgiveness of grace. And that movement is growing more and more powerful precisely because it feeds people’s hunger for more wealth, more power, more comfort, more, more, more. It speaks to those who love money, and it is putting the stamp of approval on their wealth because rich people, by their very rich-ness, are shown to be those who God has blessed.
But the Bible, and especially the New Testament, says something very different about money and wealth. The passage that Nick just read sums it up pretty well, “the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to rich some have wandered away from [God].” “You cannot serve God and [money],” and it should be clear that we are called to serve God.
You all know that it is dangerous when wealth becomes one of our idols – dangerous both to our spiritual health and to the well-being of others who suffer as a result. If you still need any proof of that, look at the results of the mad dash for money that was at the root of the world’s current economic meltdown. Thousands more are living in poverty, and there is little willingness to put resources toward alleviating their suffering. Others, some of those who were right there in the hunt, have spiraled down into depression and suicide because of the hollowness they felt when the god they wrapped their lives and their sense of worth around disappeared like a soap bubble on the breeze.
That’s old hat, and we have all internalize that caution completely, I’m sure…. But, the author of this letter adds something new, that I had never noticed before. He gives a positive to go along with the negative – we are to strive for contentment – to be satisfied with things the way they are. I don’t think that means that we are to sit back and watch life unfold around us without participating or working for change. I think it means that we should find a way to be comfortable, at peace, and – even happy – with what we have instead of searching … constantly searching … for something else or something more. As Sheryl Crow put it in one of her songs, “It's not having what you want. It's wanting what you've got.” that’s the key.
For some reason, every time I’ve turned my mind to contentment this week, a pesky image keeps popping up. (Perhaps it’s time to get a pop-up blocker for my brain). I keep seeing Scrooge McDuck standing there before me. For those of you who grew up before or after the late 80s, Scrooge McDuck was a character on a cartoon called, “Duck Tales,” and was supposed to be, I think, Donald Duck’s brother. He was the richest person in the world, and as long as nobody was trying to steal his money (which was one of the running themes of the show) he was pretty happy.
Why not, he was a gazzilionaire with a mansion, fun toys, three pesky and idealistic nephews, and a vault filled with gold coins. At least once each day, he would go to his vault and dive into the pile of money. He would swim around in it somehow, diving down and surfacing to spew coins from his mouth like water, arching out and back in like a playful dolphin with a smile on his face.
He was, I would say, content with his lot. And that has left a troubling realization in my mind. I am nowhere close to the richest person in the world, but I am quite well off by global standards. In a time when 1 in 7 people in this country are living in poverty, I’m probably quite well off by US standards as well. Is it enough for me just to be content?
The story we heard from Luke holds an answer to that question. In it, the rich man (who is sometimes called Dives) is not unlike Scrooge McDuck. We see him all turned out in royal garb and sitting down to a feast every day. I can picture him leaning back on his couch with food spread out before him, his friends and relatives gathered around, and an army of servants helping them swim through the wealth laid out before them. I imagine they, too, were quite content. Outside the door, though, sat Lazarus – pesky, disease-ridden Lazarus, the one flaw in an otherwise idyllic life.
Dives had several options to address the situation, of course. He could have invited Lazarus into his household, treating his sores, feeding him, giving him meaningful work – adopting him in a way. He could have had someone else, a servant perhaps or a hired thug, physically remove the poor man from his doorway and also from his own awareness (Out of sight, out of mind). He could have done any number of things that fell somewhere between those two. But instead, he chose to simply ignore him – treating him as if he simply did not exist.
Of course, you know what happened. Lazarus was taken by the angels. Dives went to Hades, and his plea for mercy from Abraham was rebuffed. “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony.” The message is pretty clear. Just sitting back, content with our wealth and privilege is not enough. Apathy in the face of the world’s suffering may well land us someplace that we'd rather not be.
So what’s a rich person to do?
Are we to sell it all and give it to the poor like the rich young ruler of Carrie’s sermon last week? That’s one solution, and I suppose that it would certainly ease the dilemma of being rich. It’s also quite extreme, and I’m not completely convinced that Jesus was really concerned with the man’s money. I think he was pointing out that it is very hard to be rich if you truly are following God’s commandments. Though there may be something to be said for giving everything to the poor, I’m not sure that adding one more to their number is really a solution.
Money, after all, is not, after all, a bad thing in and of itself. It can be a very useful tool for redistributing resources, and it removes the need for carrying a bushel of corn or a chicken around in your back pocket so that you can trade it to the cobbler for a new pair of shoes.
Consider the story posted by Melissa Bane Sevier this week on the contemplative viewfinder web site. Melissa’s church held a fundraising event called wine into water to benefit a clean water initiative in Mexico. It was held at a local winery and guests were treated to an evening of wine, food, and entertainment. Melissa writes:
[It was the most fun church event I’ve ever attended…. We shared stories and food, caught up with old friends, and greeted strangers. We watched the sun go down over a glorious late summer [evening], and by the glow of Tiki torches we listened to banjo and fiddle and heard about our friends [in Mexico] who cannot afford clean drinking water….
As people drove away into the clear night, I realized once again that contentment is not just a state of mind. It is also the ability to share the things that make us content. I thought of people who are my neighbors here, sharing a happy evening together and sharing their time and money with people they will likely never meet. Sitting around an outdoor table, talking and laughing, eating and drinking. And I thought of my neighbors in Mexico, who are doing the same thing, sharing the time and money they have so their friends and children and neighbors can have healthy, contented lives….”
Maybe it is enough to be content … if that contentment is more than a facile, self-centered satisfaction that lets us rest easy with all that we have while others suffer around us. The author of I Timothy seems to agree with Melissa on that. The contentment he is encouraging is a deeper kind of peace … a peace that comes from being happy with only as much as we really need – food, clothing, shelter … a peace that both grows from and takes joy in sharing with those we love and those we are called to love.
The author of I Timothy says, “[And as] for those who [are] rich … they are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share....” That’s not always an easy thing to do, especially for those of us who have been shaped by the teaching that we need to take care of ourselves. It takes a faith that trusts God to provide for our needs – often in ways that we may never have imagined. It also takes practice –
practice at relearning how we understand what is enough,
practice at laying aside our drive to have more,
practice seeing the needs of others and sharing what we can.
In my experience, it’s a daily struggle. But, I have also found that each time I remind myself that I don’t need to work at getting that new what’s-it, a little more of my money is freed up to meet real needs.
Each time that pause to appreciate all that I already have or get rid of things that I don’t really need a little more of my time and energy can be spent on people.
Each time that I am able to share my abundance with someone else, a little more of my heart is opened up to love and compassion.
Each time that I choose to serve the God of life, I experience a growing sense of peace and contentment – a sense that this is what life – the life that really is life – is meant to be.
What are we to do? ... Be the hands, feet, and heart of God here in this world so that all the world may enter fully into "the life that really is life."
Benediction:
Sisters and Brothers, go from this place as beloved children of God. Be rich in good works. Be Generous and always ready to share. Dive into God's love and be content swimming through the waters that bring true life.
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