You Can't Take It With You

The parable of the farmer in Luke 12:13-21 makes me a little uncomfortable. Is Jesus talking to me? I suppose I indentify a little too closely with the farmer. But wait a minute, this guy’s not a cheat; he’s worked hard for what he has. He provided well for his family and educated his children, after which he set some savings aside for the future. But was there ever really enough? If I just had a little more in the bank or if I could just get a better return on my investments without risking our future? Sure I can relate but isn’t he living the “American Dream?” Isn’t this what Max Weber espoused in his social-economic theories that have come to be known as the Protestant Ethic, in which certain Protestant denominations considered hard work in pursuit of economic gain as being as being a reflection of moral and spiritual blessings (The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism)? This moral-economic philosophy gave birth to the rise of Capitalism and the unprecedented growth of the United States in virtually every sector. In many ways, it provided the directional compass for the youth of our generation who were instructed to use our God-given talents, work hard and get ahead. So, what’s wrong with that?

Luke prompts us to wonder what does it mean to get ahead? After all, there is an end to it all. This is the one very important thing for which the farmer has not planned -- his reckoning with God. “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

Despite our technological advances; our intellectual prowess or cultural achievement, the human condition guarantees that we cannot escape its legacy. As such, our lives are fraught with uncertainty and insecurity. Perhaps this may be the reason we strive for a measure of security and control over the vagaries of life through our own efforts or accomplishments.

The farmer has fallen prey to worshiping the most popular of gods: himself. The farmer is called a "fool" not because of his wealth or ambition but rather because he accords finite things infinite value. He has tried to insulate himself from his ultimate destiny through his own resourcefulness and in the end will have “come up empty.” He has all he believes he wants and more, yet, at the end - which comes that very night…it proves inadequate.

Life is all about priorities. Where is God is in our lives? How do we invest the gifts that God has given us? Are our lives aligned for our own goals and passing desires, or with God, our neighbor and what God has planned for us?

 

 

Luke 12:13-21

Lord, teach us to pray...

 

When my first child was born, I as a young father, was overwhelmed by how much I loved him. I couldn't get over how strong in the very first moments of his life was my desire to love, protect, and provide for him. In those initial months and years, I was overcome with the strength of my feelings for him. Then, as we approached the birth of our second child, I was uneasy about my feelings: “how could I possible love her (it was to be a girl), as much as I loved him; there’s no way, I thought, I could have all those strong feelings? However, after she was born, I realized that my feelings for her were the same…I learned that I did not have to divide my love or love one less than the other. It was just there, already “packaged” for me in my daughter as it was in my son. Today, I reflect on those early years of parenting, in which I was only a hare’s breath from being a child myself and wonder about how much greater is the love of God.

In our Gospel (Luke 11:1-13), Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray. Over the years I’m sure his lesson has created considerable controversy and raised much doubt about all prayers being answered: So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is this really true?

Our children can provide a unique perspective on our relationship with God. Over the years, my children would ask for many things. All requests were heard and I know all their requests were answered. In some cases they received what they asked for; in others they did not. Many times my alternate suggestion, which they resisted at the time, tuned out to be even better than what they had originally requested. I don’t remember ever not listening to their request, despite how outlandish in some cases, I thought they were. I don’t remember not answering them one way or another. Even when they were denied I listened and our love for each other never suffered despite some difficult encounters.

Children can provide a unique perspective on prayer and our relationship with God. Luke’s Gospel prompts me to think if this is the way it is with us, imagine how it is with God?

If you then...know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?

Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things

The Story of Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42) occurs as Jesus "set his face to go  to Jerusalem" and dispatches the seventy disciples ahead with no provisions; instructs them to waste no time; to travel lightly and to depend on the hospitality of anyone who would welcome them on their journey. Likewise, immediately preceding the visit to the home of Martha and Mary, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan, which reveals an example of extraordinary compassion for a complete stranger in need. So, in context of these preceding stories, are we not somewhat taken aback with his admonishing Martha and siding with Mary? Our instincts tell us that Jesus should not chide Martha as he affirmed Mary’s choice to join the disciples and disparaged her for being distracted with less important matters. Didn’t Jesus admonish Simon for being less than attentive to the needs of his “honored” guest (Luke 7:36) a few weeks ago? His affirmation of one woman's choice and criticism of the other seems out of character, especially because Jesus consistently emphasizes service and hospitality. So, what is the justification for his dismissal of Martha's attention to the care of her guests? We certainly can relate to Martha wanting the meal to go well, especially since we can assume that Martha and Mary were well aware of Jesus’ notoriety as an important religious teacher and they were honored to be able to host him…why else would they risk breaking the law by having a man in the house without the presence of a male relative? After all, isn’t Martha doing what is expected of her as a good hostess?

Our natural inclination is to justify what Jesus does. But perhaps this story is intended to disturb us. Luke portrays Jesus in an unexpected way to teach that the coming of God’s kingdom is the first priority and while he acknowledges the importance of Martha's service in ordinary circumstances, no earthly tasks should get in the way.

Sometimes we need our expectations to be challenged in order to hear what Jesus is trying to tell us.

 

 

The Parable of The Man Who Fell Among Thieves

 

 

Is there a passage in the Bible or Gospel story more familiar to us than the parable of “The Good Samaritan?” (Luke 10:25-37). A man is traveling on a dangerous road when he’s attacked by bandits, robbed, and left for dead. Two people come by who we believe should care for this man, but they don’t. Then one comes who shouldn’t care, but does. It’s just a simple story of love your enemies right?  Of course, this is a beautiful story in which Jesus prompts us to think about whom we consider to be our neighbor. The two people who decided not to stop did not recognize the injured man as their neighbor; after all, he was a stranger to them.

Yes, this is an important story for us to tell and think about, since we are living in a time of major change in which our society has become more ethnically diverse.  Our culture, more than ever is a “mosaic” that contains many pieces different from and new to many of us.

But maybe, there’s more going on here? I may be reading more into the story but then, my “editor” is usually in complete agreement. OK, suppose we ask who the “main character” of this story is; doesn’t, the Samaritan get top billing; after all, it’s his parable? But is he really the main character? The injured stranger isn’t just our neighbor but a completely powerless “victim,” who serves as a model for our personal transformation in that he enables us to see how dependent we are on the least of our brethren to know compassion and give of ourselves. His role allows us to “let down our guard” and get out of our “comfort zone,” and not just proclaim our love for our neighbor but to “act out” our love, even though it’s a major inconvenience and the victim is not “one of us.”

Robert Capon Farrar in The Parables of Grace does not see this parable as a model for “niceness.” Jesus’ whole parable, especially with its piling up of detail after detail of extreme, even irrational behavior on the part of the Samaritan, points not to the meritorious exercise of good will but to the sharing of the passion as the main thrust of the story.

Maybe the only way we can truly “help” those who are in need is to recognize how often we have been the victim “left for dead” and completely vulnerable. The Samaritan knew what it was like to be ostracized and persecuted. He could to relate to the victim first-hand. Trading places with strangers in need for no other reason but love, transforms us in a way that changes our view of “who is our neighbor” forever.

"I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves"

 

From an historical perspective (Luke 10:1-11, 16-20), “commissioning” the 70 in groups of two’s and three’s was a brilliant organizational strategy. We know all too well that John the Baptists’s movement was halted and his followers dispersed abruptly after he was executed by Herod. According to New Testament scholar, John Dominic Crossan,  Jesus’ disciples were “decentralized” and were virtually unstoppable. They scattered to hundreds of places too remote for Jesus to visit during his ministry, especially now… as his face was set on Jerusalem.  Crossan estimates that there were hundreds of commissioned ministers already in place by the time Jesus was crucified and unlikely to learn of his death for weeks and months. (The Historical Jesus)

The seventy overjoyed with the thrill of their first encounters were reluctant to hear or heed Jesus’ warnings, and were eager to share their joy. Jesus knew that they would be going as lambs in the midst of wolves as he too experienced rejection and death threats during his ministry, and most notably in his own home town. He knew all too well that rejection was the least of what they were going to encounter.

Yet, can’t we relate to the elation that the first wave of disciples felt as they shared their experiences with one another when they returned home? Can’t we relate to how good they felt after healing and ministering to their communities as Jesus taught. Like most of us they would be filled with hope that it all may be joyful and “fulfilling.” Yet Jesus tells us not to rejoice in citing what we’ve done, but quietly rejoice because we are living the Word to glorify God. To restate Jesus admonition: Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever accepts you accepts me, and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, commissioned his students in the Underground Church to go forth into the Third Reich and proclaim the gospel while facing the possibility of death. In so doing, he made the distinction between cheap grace and costly grace. Costly grace is that which is truly from Christ. “It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life.” Cheap grace, he said, expects endless pleasantness, and is unwilling to confront powers and principalities.  True grace knows that the cross is part of life in Christ.  (The Cost of Discipleship)

You’re Not Wanted Here

 

The music stopped; my chair was gone, and I was faced with having to leave a job and career to which I was totally committed and loved for over 30 years. A corporate reorganization resulted in my position and group being eliminated and absorbed. No, they said I wasn’t being fired; "your performance was exemplary; it’s just that your position would no longer exist.” “Well,” I asked, “if that’s the case how come I couldn’t do this or that?”

… Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.

To which the response was: “No, sorry, those options are not in the plans.” So, now I had to leave a place where I was no longer wanted (Luke 9:51-62) . How was that possible?  I had to uproot my family and an established lifestyle, leave my friends behind and go to a place where I was wanted…but just not here anymore. Hurt, anger and a futile urge to “strike back” were emotions that ruled my life for a long time.

Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?

Little did I know at the time that this pain and anguish would lead to new opportunities, personal growth and a transformation of sorts that would not have been possible had I remained anchored in that comfortable place. Little did I know that what seemed like an interminably difficult period of loss and “exile” protected me from the peril and upheaval awaiting those in that place I left behind. Little did I know then that in the long run, it was all for the best… and all part of a plan.

Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God

Return home and tell how much God has done for you

 

This week’s Gospel Luke 8:26-39 deals with images and metaphors that can take us down so many real and imaginary paths. For some the reading suggests different meanings at different levels. What do we imagine when we think of demons and evil and the blessed freedom from those things that can “paralyze” us?

The story describes a possessed man who begs Jesus to free him of demons that have held him hostage and have prevented him from engaging in a normal existence much less, a life. It also describes the man’s gratitude after he is released and how that gratitude manifests in his desire to stay with Jesus and follow him. Jesus, however, sends him away and tells him to now “return home and tell how much God has done for you.”

This last sentence made me wonder how many times we work our way out of something that bothers us or keeps us from doing what we want or need to do, and forget to give God the credit, even after we’ve prayed or asked God’s help. What about the times we work ourselves free without our even asking His help, and take all the credit…when in fact He was there all along?

Some years ago we were visiting our family back home. In the early years, we routinely visited my mother-in-law whose worsened dementia confined her to a nursing home. Sadly, she no longer recognized us and, short of making a one word comment, was incapable of speaking. On one of our trips back we received a call from the nursing home to tell us that my mother-in-law had fallen and had broken her arm, and was now en route to the hospital by ambulance. My brother-in-law and I quickly made our way to the hospital just minutes before she arrived. It was not hard to know that she was being wheeled in to the emergency room…her painful wail echoed through the hall. The EMTs and accompanying physician were beside themselves. Despite being medicated and restrained, she was virtually impossible to subdue. We both approached the gurney each took her hand. My mother-in-law looked at me and to all our astonishment, said “Bob, please help me; it hurts so much.” I told her that the doctors would fix her arm and relieve her pain, which was more terror than anything else, and that she should just try to calm down. She said, “OK” and was wheeled to the treatment area. We were all amazed at what had just transpired. I don’t remember what I said or if I said anything. I do remember speculating that it was likely the pain that enabled her dislocated “brain connections” to fire properly and restore her speech and recognition. This restoration unfortunately, was short-lived. When we all anxiously visited her in the nursing home to which she had returned the next day, we found that she had retreated back to the “place” she was before.

Until now, I was quick to credit science with a glib explanation and never once thought to give credit to God, who heard our unspoken prayers. Return home and tell how much God has done for you. 

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

I had been asked by my employer to relocate to the company’s home office located in a small Midwest City. After a period of time we adjusted to the move. In fact, we in retrospect, thrived and grew during that 15 year experience. We quickly learned that many of those with whom I worked and became friendly were, like us, “ex pats” living away from “home.” Over time some of these business associates became our very close friends. More often than not these friendships were forged over a period of time through a series of wonderful dinner parties. These were great ways to get to know people outside of work.  Of course, this was also a time during which climbing the corporate ladder was uppermost on my mind and the dinner party became a favorite venue for me and those special guests, who could play a role in my career success, to get to know one another better.

I can remember a particular time when we struggled with a guest list. The person of honor and our close friends had accepted our invitation and while we agonized over inviting one of our dear friends, who was known to get a little obnoxious as the night progressed, we were hard pressed not to ignore him. So, he was invited as he, no doubt, would have expected. The evening arrived, the table was set, the settings were placed, the wine was poured and the menu was well in hand… and true to form, my dear friend in no time, hijacked the conversation and while several of us made attempts to wrestle it back, it was futile. Everyone knew what had happened. They, including our honored guest, were aware and sympathetic to our plight.

Later when the guests had left and we were alone, I tried to make excuses for my poor friend who, like the woman who interrupted Simon’s dinner party with Jesus, was out of placed and defied convention by interrupting the party and behaving in a disreputable way especially toward the honored guest.

Wasn’t I just like Simon in Luke 7:36-8:3  My honored guest was not there out of true friendship but was there because he might be able to help me. I chose to invite my obnoxious friend, not because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but because I didn’t want to suffer the consequences. Now, I’m not suggesting that we should have tolerated poor manners and bad behavior, since my friend clearly was out of line; I am saying that compassion for one another is not always easy. Sometimes, defying convention requires compassion rooted in deep feelings for each other and not according to our plan and agenda. Compassion requires that we don’t use people and don’t let our friends engaging in risky behavior continue to hurt themselves. Compassion means that we don’t hide behind false “nobility” and rationalize our own behavior to suit our own agenda. Jesus praised Simon’s unwanted guest who took a risk and defied convention.

Holiness vs Compassion

The dominant social vision in the time of Jesus was centered around a "purity code" which, in being associated with "holiness" became the core value for life in the community.  Jesus replaced this with compassion. To put it boldly: compassion for Jesus was political.He directly challenged the dominant sociopolitical paradigm of his social world and advocated instead what might be called the politics of compassion. This conflict and social vision continue to have striking implications for the life of the church today. (Borg, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, p49)

What are the implications for the Church today?

...and he was moved with Compassion

The Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) considers the time between Pentecost Sunday and the first Sunday in Advent as Ordinary Time.  Yet, our readings in Luke’s Gospels for both last week and this week, (Luke 7: 11-17) depict events that must be considered anything but ordinary. According to Thomas Keating, Ordinary Time is a time in our church calendar during which “chronological and eternal time intersects in the mystery of the present moment and become one” (The Mystery of Christ). And so, this week’s story, while remarkable in and of itself, goes far beyond a dramatic restoration of life and underscores Jesus’ ministry: we express our love for God when we have love and compassion for one another.

Compassion is a particularly important word in our Gospel in which we read of Jesus being moved with compassion. Marcus Borg tells us that compassion represents the summation of Jesus’ teaching about both God and ethics. “For Jesus, compassion was the central quality of God and the central moral quality of a life centered in God. Moreover, for Jesus compassion was not simply an individual virtue, but a sociopolitical paradigm expressing  his alternative vision of human life in community, a vision of life embodied in the community that came into existence around him” (Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time).

So how does this story fit with Borg’s paradigm? In this story Jesus restored more than the life of the young man; he restored the life of the widow, a woman with no "voice" of her own, who, at the lowest rung of society’s ladder, was destined to live out her life in, at the very least, misery.  This is a story in which her community, dominated by men, walk beside her in her time of need.  This is a story in which Jesus, in asking the widow not to cry, does so not to calm her emotional state, but rather to transform life: hers, her son’s, the community, and ours.

Jesus was intent on challenging the vision of God as being one that was centered in holiness, and beyond our reach, to one that is centered in compassion and lives with us in our midst. Says Borg, “As a mother loves the children of her womb, so God loves us and feels for us. In its sense of ‘like a womb,’ compassionate has nuances of giving life, nourishing, caring, perhaps embracing and encompassing. For Jesus this is what God is like.”