Whatever happened to trust? (Proper 13 – Year C) July 31, 2016
Colossians 3:1-11, Luke 12:13-21 Panzer Liturgical Service
I’ll admit it. I have finally come to the place where I am almost afraid to watch the news. The crazy and sobering events of the last few weeks feel too close to home, and events that would normally be relegated to the page 7 of the local newspaper end up as breaking news events for on CNN and BBC. The first questions we ask when violence strikes are, “Has terror come again? Is it really here to stay?” As we live in Germany, we see recent violence striking in places that we have visited, and in places near the very town where we live.
But terror is not just about not-so-isolated attacks meant to strike fear in the hearts of everyday people. It also occurs in ways in which we have become immune. Did you know that in the first seven months of 2016 over 2,200 people have been victims of gun violence and 371 people have been murdered in the city of Chicago alone?[i] Did you know that this year there have been only 30 days when someone has not been murdered there?[ii]
This is not to say that the terror that we feel when there is violence on a local train, or outside a local restaurant, or when attending a local festival isn’t real… it is. But we often do not see or are not moved by the ways that violence has taken over our world. No community, no matter how small or peaceful, is immune to the simple truth that we live in a fallen world. It’s not the way we want it, and not the way God wants it, but we feel helpless to see past the realities before us.
Paul writes to the community in Colossae, where infighting and disagreement have taken over life. The people in this church have lost their way, being pulled apart by heresies which taken their focus away from what it means to be deeply devoted disciples of Jesus Christ. The exact details of their lost-ness are not enumerated in the letter, but it is clear that they have begun worshiping their religious practices and theology, not their Lord and Savior. The result is that they have lost their connection to Christ.[iii]
In the gospel reading from Luke, Jesus talks about the problem of a man who accumulates so much wealth that he focuses all of his efforts on making sure that he can hold it in reserve for the future, as if this would keep trouble from ever coming his way. Jesus story asks us to consider what the consequences are of taking care of only our needs and not living out our richness in the context of God’s generosity to us.
These are the problems of our lives. Our focus easily strays. We are easily lured into accepting theological and practical solutions that are most beneficial to us, no matter the consequences to others. We attribute to Jesus, God and scripture ideas that are often on the opposite side of the coin, phrases like “God helps those who help themselves,” actually penned by Benjamin Franklin, or “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” which is attributed to James Joyce in his book, Ulysses, written in 1922. It’s not that these are not good ideas in the appropriate context… but they aren’t a part of the gospel message
.
I’ve had a terrible time thinking about these two passages without making correlations to the current political and economic climate, not just in the US, but throughout the world. There is a constant battle between those who want governments that protect the status quo and those that to extend full citizenship to those who are other, or who have less, little or nothing than those who govern. We long of the “good old days” - whenever we think those were, and in our fear of the future, we hunker down for the calamity that the world tells us will come.
This passage from Luke is often associated with stewardship programs as a way to help people recognize their need to share a portion of their prosperity with their church family. But what if this story isn’t just about money, but also about the burden of isolation? The rich man doesn’t seem to be having conversation with anyone but himself… and I know from experience it’s pretty easy to convince myself of something if I never ask anyone else’s opinion.
This farmer is consumed with taking care of his own future. He has forgotten that there’s really nothing about his future that’s guaranteed. He can pull inward, build bigger barns and put away whatever he thinks will see him to the end of his life. But he can’t account for every disaster that might come… what if his barns burn down, or his crops get infected with a mold that makes them useless or even poison to those who try to work with them? What if he gets sick and can no longer tend his own bounty? What will he have then?
Jesus explains that despite our desire to make a secure future for ourselves is the antithesis of what it means to live for God – he calls that being rich toward God. Lutheran theologian David Lose frames it with this question: “…how can one be rich toward God without also – and quite frankly, first – being rich toward others? God, to paraphrase Martin Luther, needs neither our good works nor our wealth, but our neighbor does.”[iv] The richness of our lives is not defined by what we have, but how we live with others in community.
Remember, this parable actually starts with a question about unshared inheritance and broken community. Lots of families deal with this issue surrounding the death of parents and loved ones. Stuff has a lot of value, and not just monetarily. Stuff is about identity. Stuff is about status. Stuff is about identity. And if we’re not careful, stuff has a way of becoming a substitute for relationship, if we let it.
So Jesus’ point in telling this story is not just about what to do with our wealth. It is really about what to do with our lives. In over 300 places in the bible, we are told, “Do not be afraid.” Perhaps it’s a lesson that’s repeated over and over because fear comes so easily and is so hard to brush away. Fear is one of the biggest barriers to living a full life in Christ and a life filled with Christ. It’s the underlying theme in all of Jesus’ parables. Fear means separation and isolation. Trust in God, in Christ and in one another means life and defines what it means to be in community.
There is this whole genre of books, movies and TV shows that ask the question, “What will life be like if the world I know ends?” I have to admit they are a guilty pleasure of mine, but not for the reason you might imagine.[v] The best authors and writers don’t concentrate on the negatives but on how some people rise to the top to keep anarchy from reigning supreme over disaster. And the common threads running through my favorites are themes of sacrifice, sharing for the common good, and acceptance of those who are different as a way of affirming the goodness in life and affirming the future.
I love stories that underscore the value and even the necessity of being a part of a community. And I don’t think it’s enough to just have the same goals and values, because there are plenty of groups or communities that use fear to draw people in. Real community is born when people see that their own desires and ideas are not enough to keep a group going. Real community puts the needs of the many over the needs of the few… even Mr. Spock knew that.
Moving around so much, I have a bunch of crazy church-visiting stories. Places where when we got in the car, we looked at each other and said, “Let’s not come here again.” And everywhere we have been, we’ve found that just right place where we could live and serve Christ with others. But I also worry that people have left the churches I have served and said the same thing… that we weren’t able to be a place where they could see themselves growing and serving God and becoming a part of a family together.
When we commit our lives to Christ, it is not just about what we believe about who Jesus is or our ultimate landing place at the end of life. Committing our lives to Christ is about living for him, with him and in him. It’s a lot like marriage, where we are no longer “me” but now a part of “we.” And while it’s incredibly hard and challenging, it’s often joyful and fun at the same time.
Do you remember the movie “Cast Away” with Tom Hanks? He’s a FedEx official who is stranded on a deserted island after the plane he is on crashes. For a while, he holds on to the hope that he will be rescued. But soon, he is weighed down by the isolation of his situation and he is not only afraid, but soon becomes hopeless. Until Wilson comes along. Masquerading as a volleyball with a handprint face on the front, Wilson becomes his constant companion and confidant. Ultimately, Hank’s character is driven to attempt a reunion with civilization through a perilous sea when he tells Wilson, “I would rather take my chance out there on the ocean than to stay here and die.”
A life of faith is messy and challenging, but it is what we accept when we respond to Jesus’ call. A life of faith is not about safety, but about our willingness turn our lives over to him and to one another. Trust in God and in one another comes only when we put our former lives behind us and commit fully to him. And our best selves are truly made real when we are willing to live that life together.
Eugene Peterson spent years translating the underlying meaning of biblical passages into the language we use to talk to one another today, and we see it in his translation, The Message. If you look at verses 1-3 in the Colossians reading from today and listen to the way that Eugene lays it out for us, it’s hard to deny that Jesus is asking us to do something extraordinary.
So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that’s where the action is. See things from his perspective. Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. (Colossians 3:1-4 The Message)
I started with the question, “Whatever happened to trust?” and I’ve been reminded that trust is a choice. It comes when we commit to community, and when we accept that challenge to become a part of the solution to the problems and worries that surround us. Trust comes when we understand and believe that God has given us this new life with great purpose and great possibility. May we together take steps toward God and one another, learning to trust again along the way.
Amen.
[v] The Last Ship on TNT and Jericho on CBS are special favorites of mine.
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