One More Time for the People in the Back

Sermon preached Sunday, September 25, 2022, the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA.

Okay, so you know that there are some weeks where our readings don’t have a super clear through line or theme or maybe there are a whole bunch of different things happening…but that’s not today. Today, the message is clear: wealth, unchecked and hoarded, will not lead to happiness, life, or wholeness. Not of self, not in relationship with others, and not in relationship with God.

The prophet Amos doesn’t mince words, holding up a mirror to all the ways the people of Israel reveled in their food, wine, and resources while the poor, the widows, the orphans, the stranger, are left out in the cold.

In the second reading, the letter to Timothy, Timothy is reminded that in his baptismal promises, he is committed to advocating for those who are oppressed. He is also encouraged to remind others who have riches that their true wealth is in their life of faith, in the blessings they have received from God and in the things they share with others and use for the work of God’s reign.

And, of course, there is once again a parable from Jesus, this time about a rich man and a poor man named Lazarus, who is covered in sores and who longs for even a tiny bit of food that might fall from the rich man’s table. Instead, he dies and, while he his carried away by angels to be with Abraham, the rich man also dies and is sent to Hades where he is in terrible torment.

The rich man asks Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers to warn them and Abraham’s response makes a good point: you and your brothers have already had all the law and the prophets, you’ve already had God’s Word, why would they listen if someone came to them from the dead?

I feel like we can hear Jesus speaking directly to all of us—the listeners then and each of us now—saying basically the same thing: you have been told, through scripture, through the words of the prophets, living and dead, that the love and idolization of wealth is a path of death.

And it’s not a path of death because God makes it so, but rather because when money, when wealth, when power becomes the ultimate goal, we lose relationships, we lose love, we lose compassion, we lose all the parts of life that make life worth living.

This juxtaposition of wealth and power against deprivation and oppression was especially on display the past week. We witnessed one of the most opulent funerals, probably of our lifetime, filled with pageantry and pomp and just massive amounts of money spent. We also continue to hear stories from around the world that highlight those wealth inequities. Pakistan still has huge swaths of land underwater. Hurricane Fiona hit Puerto Rico, causing devastation of homes, businesses, and crops. In our own backyard, we hear stories of how rising prices continue to squeeze wallets and force families to make impossible decisions.

I don’t have super strong feelings one way or the other about Queen Elizabeth II, or about the English monarchy in general. I do, however, have strong feelings about well-done liturgy, and so I watched several clips over the past few days of the service, wanting to hear the music, the homily, the prayers.

And you know what? Strip away the trappings of royalty, of wealth, of power, of status…the service itself, at its core, was almost identical to the service I would officiate for any one of you at the time of your death, or, since I hope not to do any of your funerals any time soon, identical to any number of services I’ve done in my years of ministry.

The words of scripture are the same. The prayers are the same. The hope that those who loved and now mourn this great monarch need to hear is the same hope that every grieving person of faith has to hold on to.

The gospel reading that Queen Elizabeth selected for her service? John 14:1-9a. The passage where Jesus reminds us that there are many dwelling places prepared for us and that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Easily two-thirds of the funerals I’ve done have featured this reading. Not because it’s required, but because it means deep and abiding comfort to people in pain.

I mention this because it’s worth repeating: when it comes to our who we are at our core, our deepest and truest identity is a beloved child of God.

No matter our title, how much money we have in the bank, the size of our house, the amount of food in our pantry—no matter any of it, we are God’s children, not any better or worse, not any higher or lower. We all make up the body of Christ. When one part is hurting or deprived or weakened, it doesn’t matter how well others are doing, the whole body is.

So, what does that mean for how we live?

It means that any way of thinking that is “us-them” or “me first” is antithetical to reign of God. We are called to look around and see who isn’t currently at our table, look for who is sitting outside the gate, hoping for scraps—and we are not called to offer them scraps, but to invite them inside, care for them, and welcome them to a seat at the table.

It can be so tempting to focus merely on ourselves, to only make sure that we have what we need, even if it’s at the expense of others. But when we do that, we ignore our siblings in Christ.

Even across two thousand years, the parable of Lazarus and Rich Man still has the same sense of urgency and irony. Like the Rich Man, we have heard, over and over again what God is calling us to do with the wealth and resources we have been made stewards of. And, like the Rich Man, over and over again, we too often opt to secure power, privilege, and prosperity for ourselves, maybe tossing a proverbial bone to Lazarus, but never taking the real message to heart.

So today, we hear it again.

And today, we are reminded again of what Moses and the prophets have to tell us.

The challenge is, what are we going to do about it?

Will we strive to change the way we live, the way we think about our money, the way we treat others who have less?

Or will we nod attentively, then shrug our shoulders and turn back in ourselves?

The question is there. The urging of God is there.

What are we going to do?

Amen.

Where’s Your Treasure

Sermon preached Sunday, August 11, 2019, the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littestown, PA. Audio for recent sermons can be found here.

This morning’s gospel reading from Luke isn’t very long, but it still has four distinct parts that don’t necessarily seem to go along with each other. Each part is only a sentence or two and there isn’t really a transition between them. They can feel disconnected.

“Have no fear, little flock.” That’s how it begins: with a reminder of God’s promise to provide for God’s people.

And that promise of provision leads into Jesus’ remarks about selling possessions and giving alms to the poor and not selfishly hoarding one’s treasure. After all, if God has promised to provide, then we should be able to be generous with our wealth.

Then there are the two metaphors for Christ’s return: as the master of the house and as a thief. These warnings can seem ominous. “Be ready!”

The warnings that come at the end are not meant to scare us straight or thrown us into paralyzing fear of doing anything wrong…but remind us that we need not put off God’s work. It is here for us to do now. We can take care of our neighbors now. We can prioritize God’s mission now. We don’t need to wait until the last minute, because who knows when that last minute will be?

One of the things we tend to ignore or put off is addressing our relationship to stuff. We’d rather focus on almost anything else. The Gospel of Luke, in particular, though, talks a lot about wealth and money and our relationship to it. Remember a few weeks ago when we heard the story of the rich man and his barns? In chapter 18, Jesus tells another man that he must sell all he own and give the money from to the poor if he is to have eternal life. Conversely, Jesus continually talks about the generosity of people who have little, like the widow at the temple who contributes a small amount, but it is everything she owns.

In this passage, it’s that well-known verse about “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” A lot of times this is interpreted to mean that if you look at where you give your time or money, you’ll see what you prioritize, and that’s true, to an extent. We give of ourselves to things that we value. But this verse can also be understood to be prescriptive: if you begin to put your treasure into something, your heart will follow. You will be more invested. Your life will benefit.

Think about it. It’s true! It’s like when you’re ready to buy a new car. It doesn’t matter what car you choose, all of a sudden, you’re going to see that car everywhere. Or it’s like anything you pay a fee to do: the gym, music lessons, a magazine subscription: you feel guilty if you don’t take advantage of it because you’ve already spent the money and so your heart is already somewhat engaged.

This morning we’re going to talk about treasure: financial treasure and the treasure of our other resources, like our property, our time, our energy, and our gifts. Oftentimes when we talk about money in the church, we are talking about it because we need it. And, truth be told, this congregation does need money if we want to maintain our buildings and programs—otherwise everything will simply decay and fall down around us. We’ve spent much of this year making improvements to our space and fixing expensive problems with our roof and brick work. But even though all of that is true, we leave part of the story out. We don’t do a great job of talking about how giving can transform us, not just our building.

And giving can be transformative. It can change the way we think about money; it can change our spending habits; it can change our understanding of ownership.

There’s a story about a congregation in Ohio. For a long time, over a hundred years, this congregation had been worshiping as a neighborhood and city grew around it and expanded. It had a long life of lively worship and well-attended programs…but then the neighborhood began to shift. It happened slowly, but it seemed like overnight, everything had changed.

As members moved out of the neighborhood, some continued to commute back for worship on Sundays, but many simply changed their membership to another church. The building sat empty, day after day, except for Sunday mornings, when a few extra cars showed up, the only signals that worship was happening inside.

The congregation’s wealth and resources—not just money, but time and talent and energy—were being hoarded, metered out carefully and sparingly, anything to make them last just a little longer. This congregation understood these resources as finite and as theirs. They weren’t God’s. Instead of the neighborhood, they put their money in themselves, in the congregation that had become little more than a social club for a small group of people.

Their treasure was being put into keeping that club together, so that’s where their heart was—in themselves.

The congregation reached a point when it knew it couldn’t go on anymore. Money was draining away fast and there was no sign of that trend slowing to reversing. With only a few months left to go before the accounts hit zero, they decided to close the doors and move on. Just as they reached that decision, however, someone had an idea—what if they went for broke?

What if they went all in on the neighborhood? What if, instead of being afraid and coming from a place of scarcity, they decided to just give all they had to the people around them and see what happened? Certainly, there was skepticism…but at this point, there was nothing to lose! Soon, the congregation would be history, so what was the harm in trying something new?

And that’s what they did. Once they decided to invest their treasure in the community, some really incredible things began to happen. First of all, they actually got to know the people who lived in the houses surrounding them! Through conversations, they began to hear and understand the needs and hopes of their neighbors. And it was through this intentional listening that they had direction for their next steps.

Before long, there was a weekly hot meal happening once a week. When it began, all it had was a short prayer, but soon people were asking for more and in time that hot meal was followed by a full-fledged worship service. Tutoring and afterschool care began happening as members realized they had skills in education and mentorship that weren’t being utilized and that the space that had previously sat empty Monday through Saturday would be perfect for working with children and youth.

In short, this tiny congregation invested its treasure—its money, its energy, and its resources—in the community instead of selfishly keeping it for themselves, and their hearts followed. Now, these members who weren’t interested in their neighbors, who were wary about trying anything new—these people say they can’t imagine it any other way! They get deep joy out of what they see happening. Their hearts are full and overflowing with God’s love because they made the bold choice to put their treasure into God’s work and not into simply keeping themselves alive for a few more months.

This story is an example of what can happen on a communal level when we decide to put our treasure into something new. There was new life and new purpose and all kind of action from the Holy Spirit. As you look at your life, where is your treasure going? As we look at our life as a congregation, where are we putting our treasure? Is it in the right place? Is there somewhere else we want our heart to be?

Making changes like this requires trust. It can be scary to reallocate our resources when we feel like they are scarce. After all, what happens if we give them all away and there is nothing left? But we have a God of abundance; a God who does not abandon us; a God whose good pleasure it is to give us the kingdom. So, although things might change and shift and our expectations might get turned on their heads, we can be assured that God’s provision will carry us through. Let’s put our treasure into God’s work.

Amen.