Sermons

I knew it was going to happen. Although I didn’t want it to be case, it happened. One of my daughters has become a collector. You see, when I was growing up I had many collections, so I knew one of them would inherit that blasted gene. Beatrice, my youngest, thinks every scrap of paper, every VBS and Sunday School creation, every drawing, every little trinket, everything is important. Everything is meaningful and has a story. In addition to her trinkets and art, she also collects soap stone figures, bottle caps, Star Wars and Narnia books, and gemstones. Amanda and I are trying to coach her to only to save the really, really special things and then to take a picture and say goodbye to the things she needs to throw away. In our world of overabundance, we must simplify and let some stuff go.

But I have to tell you, I, too, collected some fun things growing up. My grandfather was a banker so it was really easy to collect coins. In fact, I have a box of old coins packed away that used to be my grandfather’s before he died. I also collected pencils. Now, not just any yellow #2 pencils mind you. These were fun pencils I picked up at National Park gift shops, decorative pencils while on vacation to historic locations, and whimsical pencils with cartoon characters on top that I got at Disney when I was child. But I got rid of those and today I only collect nice fountain pens that I can use for work. And the best collection I have, even to this day, is my baseball card collection. I love the game of baseball and especially the Atlanta Braves, so I have boxes of sports cards and tons of autographs from Braves stars like Chipper Jones, Tom Glavine, and Freddie Freeman. I have to say, there is a lot of fun in collecting.

But then there is that dark side of collecting, right? When my family made the move to Dallas we downsized and simplified dramatically. In fact, most of my collections have decreased tremendously in size because I realized the stuff didn’t make me happy. My family, a great church, and a solid community are the things that make me truly happy. Yet, in a very materialistic culture, we tend to hold on to stuff, don’t we? Our closets are crammed full of clothes, our drawers are full of junk, and our play rooms are full of toys. And, I have to say, abundance isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Yet, problems tend to arise when we become overly attached to our stuff. We must constantly ask ourselves, “What is our relationship with our possessions? Do we possess them or do they possess us? If we were to think about what it is we treasure, are we ok with our hearts being there, too?”

As we ponder those questions, let’s take a closer look at the text and see what Jesus has to say about possessions. Jesus was teaching his disciples amid a crowd of thousands when an unnamed individual interrupted him with a demand. This wasn’t like the rich young ruler who came to Jesus asking genuine questions, sincerely wondering what he could do to inherit eternal life. No, in this story, the unnamed person insisted, even demanded, of Jesus to tell his older brother to divide the family inheritance with him. This younger brother approached Jesus out of greed and anger rather than affection and inquiry. According to Judaic inheritance practices, an older brother would receive two-thirds of an estate while the younger would receive one-third. This younger brother wanted Jesus to help him “possess” more, to keep what he believed were his rightful things.

Yet, Jesus dismissed the brother’s demands and changed the subject. Jesus’s rapid response indicated that he didn’t care about the physical possessions and their distribution. Instead, he cared about this brother’s heart. And you know when Jesus wanted to change hearts he told stories. Jesus told a parable about a rich man who stored up grain for many seasons in his barns, with such a large surplus that the rich man thought of building even bigger barns. Once the extra grain was properly saved, the man could congratulate himself and live out the rest of his days in leisure.

But, as the story goes, God called this man a fool and demanded his life on the spot. The rich fool’s wealth mattered little because it was all selfishly stored away and he wasn’t rich towards God. He was isolated and alone and thought he should be the only beneficiary of God’s bounty. And we see this in the farmer’s concern about inadequate storage space, that he had no intention of selling or sharing his crops or giving a “tithe” to God. He sought a long-term solution that would help him “relax, eat, drink, and be merry.” He became rich at the expense of everything else - others, himself, and God. His barn was full, but his heart was empty. He cared more about commodities rather than community.

Are our barns full but our hearts empty? I believe being rich towards God produces full hearts. It means building communities rather than acquiring commodities. I believe being rich towards God leads us away from the myth that bigger is always better. It means we can all feel rich, even if we only have small gifts to give. I believe being rich towards God means we can make God’s world fuller through acts of justice, deeds of kindness, and words of grace and mercy. This is what it means to be rich towards God. Because, in the end, we don’t need bigger barns. We need more inclusive and loving communities.

To be sure, saving for our future material needs is an aspect of proper stewardship of God’s blessing. Yet, the rich farmer in Jesus’ parable is not criticized for storing up his treasures; he is thought a fool for storing up his treasures in bigger barns while not being rich towards God and loving his community. The foolish farmer thought bigger was better. But Jesus’s life denies that bigger is always better. If bigger is better, why did Jesus come to a tiny, minority people and call them chosen? If bigger is always better, why did Jesus choose only twelve companions to be his inner circle? If bigger is better, why did Jesus come to a desert land two thousand years ago and not to a bustling big metropolis of 2019? If bigger is always better, why did Jesus give extravagant love to the outcast, the outlaws, the down and outs, the friendless, the helpless, and the hopeless? Being rich towards God leads us away from the idea that bigger is always better. Part of discovering our bigger, blessed lives is to give our gifts back to God and to our community.

I’m sure since most of the folks that followed Jesus were poor, they probably thought the farmer got what he deserved. I’m sure this poverty-stricken crowd listening to Jesus was jumping and salivating at a fever pitch, ready to overthrow those in power and take what should be theirs. But, what we don’t hear right after this part of the Lukan text today, is that Jesus calmed down the crowd. He told them that even though this rich farmer cared more about commodities than he did about community, that they, as followers of God, should not be anxious for anything. As British scholar N.T. Wright said, “It was to people like that, not to people worried about affording smart cars and foreign holidays, that Jesus gave his clear and striking commands about not worrying over food and clothing.” Why would Jesus tell those on the edges of economic and financial collapse to not worry? I think it’s because Jesus knew the value of community. He knew that if people followed him, that this new spiritual community would also be a physical community as well.

That’s why Jesus used the image of a flock of birds not fretting and of the grass of the field being clothed. The birds are together and help each other build nests, get food, and survive. The grass of the field means that there isn’t just one blade of grass, no, it is a lush and green lawn and it is a flourishing community. So, we must not only learn to be givers of love, giving from our abundance rather than greedily hoarding what God has gifted us with, but we must also value community over commodity, knowing that when we live in community, with people different than us, needier than us, richer than us, a community that values loving, sharing, and caring, then we are indeed doing what the God of love and divine community beckons us to do.

And as we approach Jesus, that’s the question for today. Are our hearts centered on commodities? Do we care more about the house we live in, the neighborhood where we reside, the clothes we wear, or the car we drive? Would we rather spend our one wild and precious life to make sure we have bigger barns and bigger bank accounts and bigger storage units so that we can say to ourselves, “self – let us eat and drink and be merry?” Or will we realize today that people matter more than possessions? Maybe we will recognize that by living in community with one another, with people who are different than us, people who are richer or poorer than us, people who are more able and more differently-abled than us, people who have lighter or darker skin than us, people with thinner or thicker accents than us, maybe in these communities we might find a way to truly invest our hearts! And when we read scripture and hear the voice of God say, “Wherever your treasure is, there is your heart,” that we might learn to be rich towards God, expand our wealth of knowledge and relationships, rather than our wealth of possessions. Church, it’s time to put community over commodity.

And I think what we need to learn from all of this is that possessing a ton of commodities, things, stuff, doesn’t ultimately save our lives. There is nothing we can possibly do to avoid death, the end of ourselves and our stuff. I think the ultimate possession we should try to find and value and collect in this life should be love. Every person on this planet has that in common. Every person on this planet desires to be loved and to give love. Love is the thing that binds us as a community and love is the thing that binds us to God. And that is why we must understand that life is a result of community and is not a commodity to be greedily hoarded. Because, if we follow God, then we know that life is a gift. Life is a gift freely given by a God of love.

Motivational speaker Bob Perks was at an airport once when he overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, “I love you. I wish you enough.” She in turn said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.”

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where Bob was seated. Standing there, Bob could see the father wanted and needed to cry. Bob tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed Bob in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” Bob replied. Saying that brought back memories for Bob of expressing his love and appreciation for all his Dad had done for him. Recognizing that his days were limited, Bob took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to him. So, he knew what this man experiencing.

“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?” Bob asked. “I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral,” he said. Bob responded, “When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”

The man began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail and smiled even more. “When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them,” he continued and then turning toward Bob, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough ‘Hello’s’ to get you through the final ‘Goodbye.’”

He then began to sob and so, walked away.

Friends, I wish you enough. I wish you enough love and blessings and energy so that you can value community over commodity. We don’t need bigger barns… we need bigger hearts.

Amen.