Sunday, November 19, 2017

Giving, Losing, Worrying, and Making the World a Little Better

Luke 12:13-21

I have to admit when I first read the scripture this week for Harvest Festival I turned skyward, maybe shook my fist a little, and said, “Whatchu doin’ to me?” Can’t I just have duckies and bunnies just one Sunday—on Harvest Sunday, pretty please? Why is the Bible filled with so much law?
            We had a rough start to the week in our house. Somebody stole my identity and managed to run our accounts into the ground and messed with our banking and did all sorts of damage. I’m still sorting it out. Anything with money can be just anxiety-producing, can’t it? I actually awoke in the middle of the night Tuesday and couldn’t get back to sleep because I had the sudden, paranoid fear that the person I had talked to the night before wasn’t actually who I thought it was. This is the kind of thing this does to you; like a break-in or a theft or worse.
            That anxiety stuck with me a good portion of this week.
            Then, Natalie and I went to see my grandma for her 100th birthday on the last couple days. Let me tell you what you don’t worry about at 100 years old: Much. You don’t worry about much. My grandma had a stroke earlier this year and it shows. She isn’t as aware as before, but she is still there when you’re up close and when she has the time to figure out who you are. It’s like she had her own small bubble and when a person entered it she just lit up. When nobody was in the bubble she just sat there peaceably, just soaking in the party. I had worries—worries about our finances generally with a lot up in the air for our family at the moment, worries about a funeral back here without me, which is silly because I knew Kate would do fine; I had stress about today’s services, about the Thanksgiving service tonight. Today is a tank-emptying kind of day for me, which means I’m also tempted to worry that I’ll probably get sick for Thanksgiving.
            Do any of you ever do this to yourselves?
A person can worry a lot if they want to, and I don’t think I’m even much of a worrier by nature, so my guess is you’ve all been there—some of you often and some of you are there right now. Caught between an avalanche of what-ifs, paralyzed with fear. If you are stuck in the cycle of worry you are going to be looking for assurances in the rest of your life. You are going to be looking for comfort and security. It’s easy to use worry as your crutch not to give more of yourself—your time, your resources.
But there comes a point when we have to say, “No, this is not what life is about.”
I don’t know how many financial planners have ever read today’s Gospel, but let me say right now: I think if I talked to Portico, our church retirement and insurance service, and said that the Bible was telling me I didn’t need to save for retirement because we’re not supposed to store away so much grain like the rich man in Luke 12 they would refer me to the bishop for counseling. For good reason: This scripture is not telling us to be unprepared for the future. It is, however, deeply concerned about how we use what we have been given right now for the sake of others. Jesus is concerned that the rich man extend himself beyond his own comfort to serve those in need. It’s not that he can’t ever enjoy life or that he should not be readying himself for the future; it’s just that he has to remember that everything he has is a blessing and a gift, and he is compelled to share it with those who need it more.
The tricky part of the parables about wealth that pop up here and there in Jesus’ ministry is that we usually don’t see ourselves as wealthy  We may see this as somebody else’s problem, or we might see this as the thing the church uses to reach deeper into our pockets. The reality is much more complex. Some of us have a lot, some don’t, and depending on the current moment in our lives we may be in a place to give more or in a place where we need some stability first. Since everybody is in a different place it’s hard to come up with a uniform guideline for giving, but if there is one it is this: Give enough that it hurts. Don’t just scrape from the surface; give enough that it causes you to second-guess, even if only for a moment.
Of course that’s dependent on the person; it always will be. Don’t worry about it being fair because it won’t be. Jesus’ parables about money are usually unfair. The laborers in the vineyard is one example, where the owner pays everybody a day’s wage regardless of how long they worked that day. That’s not fair in our eyes, so don’t trust our idea of fairness. Instead, concern yourself that you are being faithful to your own calling. Give so that it hurts a little. This is true of how you give to church, to charity, in gifting, in tipping, whatever. Just give enough that it makes some impact on you.
Then, don’t worry that you are not doing enough, being enough, trying enough. We can all second-guess ourselves, but instead live in response to grace, knowing that no amount is enough but any amount is of value. We are blessed to be a blessing.
When you give enough to make some impact on you you also tend to realize what really matters. You may notice that we have a robust community willing to support one another. On the same day I was losing sleep over finances I must have seen thirty people go in and out of the food pantry. The line was the entire length of the hallway. That same day I got a call looking for a gas card to drive to doctors appointments from the Ministerial. The next day our Confirmation kids picked up so many turkeys and sides for Thanksgiving baskets that I was beginning to wonder if two pickup beds was enough. They also took with them care packages to give to the homeless they may encounter driving around Grand Forks.
I realized over the course of the week that I can do better, and I’m guessing it’s the same for many of you, but at the end of the day we also need to celebrate the good we are doing. And we can continue to check ourselves with these questions: Are we loving? Are we caring? Are we giving joyfully? Are we trying earnestly to make the world a better place? None of this is enough but all of it is valuable. As I watched Natalie dancing and singing for my grandma, 97 years her elder, I remembered for the thousandth time that money is sometimes the means but never the goal. May our wealth be for everybody who is in need and may we use it, through the grace of God, to help improve this community, our people, and the world.

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