Tenth Pentecost

             August 5, 2007

     The church in the suburbs suddenly stopped buying from its regular office supply dealer.  The manager of the store noticed and decided to call the church to inquire why this had happened.

     “I’ll tell you why,” shouted the preacher.  “Our church ordered some pencils from you to be used in the pews for visitors to register and prayer requests to be filled out.”

     “Well,” interrupted the manager, “didn’t you receive them yet?”

     “Oh, we received them all right,” said the preacher.  “However, you sent us some golf pencils…each stamped with the words, ‘Play Golf Next Sunday.’”

     I have not checked our pew pencils, but our single 9:00 AM Eucharist should allow a dedicated person to worship and play 18 holes.

     It may be true that we do not always understand what we have.  We may well be guilty of judging the value of something without proper investigation.  I heard a story recently about an eminent doctor in the late 1800s that was called in to consult about a very sick child.  His diagnosis and subsequent recommendation for treatment soon had the child on the road to recovery.  A few days later, the grateful mother called on the physician at his office.  After expressing her realization of the fact that his services had been of the sort that could not be fully paid for, she said, “But I hope you will accept as a token from me and the family this purse that I myself have embroidered.”

     The physician replied rather coldly to the effect that the fees of the physician must be paid in cash, not merely in gratitude, and he added, “Presents maintain friendship; they do not maintain a family.”

     “What is your fee?” the woman asked.

     “Two hundred dollars,” was the doctor’s answer.

     The woman opened the purse and took from it five $100 bills.  She put back three, handed two to the fidgeting doctor, and closed the door on her way out of the office.

     In a culture built on free enterprise it is difficult to counteract the message that teaches from cradle to grave that we are determined by what we have.  Success is measured by what others see we possess, failure is measured by the lack of things, and the gap seems to be growing wider.  I give you an astounding figure: 353 people control as much wealth as 50% of the world’s population.  There are six billion of us and Rabbi Jonathan Sachs, who did the research, says he can show the truth of that 353-to-three billion ratio.    

     The Gospel for today talks about an unnamed man who measured his life by what he had.  He thought that the more he had the more he was.  This man was a barn-builder and, in many ways, he symbolizes our western attitude.  Too many of us measure our lives by what we have.  Our houses, the size and make of our automobiles, the number and type of credit cards, the stocks, bonds, and size of a well-diversified portfolio lets us know whether we are doing well or have some catching up to do.  We, like the man in the parable, are barn-builders.

     Notice that the man carried on a conversation with himself about what he would do with his possessions.  That dialogue continues in our hearts and in our lives perhaps as we deal with the question of what to do with what we possess.  In the parable Rabbi Jesus tells about a man who bows down at the altar of accumulated stuff and begins to worship what he has accumulated and achieved.  “I” is used six times in the parable.  “What shall I do with what I possess?”  He was imprisoned by things.  He had lost sight that possessions are tools toward a greater goal.  He had lost sight that we are to be in the world but not of the world.

     The man who made his possessions an end in themselves was called a fool.  This is the only record we have of Jesus calling someone by that name.  He was foolish because he thought material things were ends.  Sadly, he worked so hard for so little.

     Understood according to God’s economy we are stewards.  We really own nothing.  Everything in this world comes from God, who is the “creator and preserver of all life.”

     We really do not have to be selfish barn-builders.  In the parable, the man only thought of himself and his possessions.  He forgot something very important.  He forgot about time.  He forgot that none of us has control of time.  “You fool!  This very night your life is being demanded of you.  And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” 

     We may, if we choose, pursue eternal values and move beyond material things as an end to be sought, flaunted, and protected.  How can we do that?  How can we seek to be rich toward God and not let our possessions dominate and control us?

     It begins in surrender to God.  We cannot motivate, stimulate, or manipulate people to give faithfully to the work of the Church if they are not first committed to God in Christ and the claim that God has on everything.  We will become rich toward God as we learn to give out of love and thanksgiving.   

     We really do worship through our giving.  As we give we give evidence of the depth, or lack thereof, of our commitment.  It indicates whether or not our priorities match what God wills.  Our offering is a measure of our commitment.

     Each person is important.  You are needed.  You need to be a part of the giving community of this congregation.  Each person has a part.  Think of the difference it would make if you tithed your income.

     We will become rich toward God and not possessed by our possessions when we learn to measure ourselves by the model of Jesus the Christ and not by earthly standards.  Jesus the Christ becomes our standard, our goal, and our measurement.  He calls us to a level of living above worldly possessions.  Money can be used in the causes for Jesus the Christ or in the worship of mammon.  We cannot serve both.  We measure our life not by our possessions but how we use our possessions in causes that honor Jesus the Christ.  To do that is God’s definition of success.  We may even be allowed to Play Golf Next Sunday.  Amen.         

  ~The Rev. G. Thomas Mustard