Scripture: Psalm 23
I must admit I never thought of this passage as being about money before. Nor do I have
any intention of reducing its richness and limiting it to one financially based
interpretation. But, here we are in the midst of a sermon series on money, sex, and power,
and Psalm 23 shows up in the Lectionary on "money Sunday," and I'm called to
look closer.
I shall not want. That about says it all, doesn't it?
One does not have to look far to find stuff about money. It's a prominent part of our
lives. It's regularly in the news.
Today, even the Mission Yearbook talks about money and its global distribution.
"If we pretended there were only 100 people in the world and (kept) the existing
ratios of the world's population, ... 59% of the world's wealth would be in the hands of
six people - all from the United States. Eighty (of the world's 100 people) would live in
substandard housing. Seventy would be illiterate. Fifty would be malnourished. One would
have a computer. One would have a college education." (p.71)
I'm in no position to want.
There are more than 100 people in the world. There are 6 billion - give or take - and 3
billion have never used a telephone. It would take me a minute to count the number of
phones to which I have immediate access - at home, office, pocket.
I shall not want. Shall I?
One of the lessons that stuck in Seminary was to "sit loosely on your
possessions." It took me a while to "get it." And I suspect it stuck
because I'm stuck trying to live that out. Any of you who have seen the piles of stuff in
my office ... I shall not want.
There are a great many passages in Scripture that deal explicitly with money, and a
good many more with implicit implications. Jesus talked about money more than anything
else, except the reign of God. So the question of money should be pretty clearly and
easily dealt with.
Yes ... and no.
Richard Foster, in his book, The Challenge of the Disciplined Life, says there
is no single Christian economic theory. He goes on to illuminate the dark side and the
light side of money in Scripture. It seems that Scripture, our Psalm, real life all go at
least a couple of different directions here.
On the dark side: money can be a threat to our relationship with God, and others; and
Jesus didn't hold back in his criticism of wealth:
- Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth. (Matt. 6:19)
- It's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is
rich to enter the kingdom of God ... the first will be last, and the last will be first.
(Matt. 19:24)
- Woe to you that are rich, for you have received your consolation. (Luke 6:24)
- You cannot serve God and wealth (Luke 16:13)
Tough words for the 6% of the world that holds 59% of the wealth.
The Apostle Paul calls the love of money "the root of all kinds of evil."
Nothing can destroy human beings like the passion to possess. We "walk through the
darkest valley."
If it were all dark, it would be easy to figure out which way to "turn, turn to
come round right," but the Bible also "contains a stream of teaching on the
light side of money." Says Foster: "In this tradition, money is seen as a
blessing from God and, ... as a means of enhancing our relationship with God (and serving
humankind)." (p. 37)
Abraham, Isaac, pillars of Judeao-Christian tradition, were rich. Solomon's
incomparable wealth was viewed as a sign of God's favor. Job, "blameless and
upright," was a man of great wealth; and, after his trial, God restored Job's
fortunes twofold.
In the New Testament, there are the extravagant anointings of Jesus, the well-to-do
women - and men - who supported Jesus' ministry, the Good Samaritan who drew close to God
through generosity, and Paul claims to have been as content with plenty as he was with
hunger.
"You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows."
In the economy of God, the poor, the bruised, the broken are special objects of
blessing and concern. Yet, on the other hand, Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a man
who entrusts his wealth to servants, fully expecting them to use it to make a profit.
Could Bill Gates be as good a steward as Mother Theresa?
Two divergent streams - not "still waters" by any means. Darkness and light
inextricably intertwined. Paradoxical, sometimes downright contradictory.
I shall not want ... shall I?
Lent has some paradoxical qualities. Lent is a time of experiencing death so we can
more fully live. This period of time between Ash Wednesday and Easter recalls for many the
time Christ faced temptation in the desert (or wilderness, depending on the translation).
Desert - a place of scarcity and hardship; wilderness - a place overflowing with rich life
in many forms. Desert/ wilderness, fasting/feasting, scarcity/abundance ...
Darkness/light.
Divergent streams swirling together at mind-numbing speed ... Life. Every moment full
of peril and promise.
Fasting, and other spiritual disciplines, can help derail the craziness so we might
more clearly focus on matters of the soul, who is of the essence in our lives. What brings
blessing? What gets in the way of blessing?
Lent is a time of preparing for the dying so we can be resurrected in a new form
capable of taking in the real things, so our real needs can be met, so we can live Psalm
23: still waters, green pastures, restored soul ... Paradise.
Since childhood, I've been drawn to the image of a lush tropical island - my own
fantasy interpretation of paradise. Neverland, perhaps, for those who know of my
fascination with Disney, and there are places on earth that resemble it.
I'm afraid I shall want ... to move there - that island. It's warm, lush, inviting,
relaxing. And you know, if I had the resources to buy the real estate, move my family, am
I going to stop wanting at that point? Is that what I want - to the point that I shall not
want anymore?
Becoming aware of God's ownership - of ALL - can free us from a possessive and anxious
spirit. Foster suggests "we stamp everything in our possession with the reminder
'Given by God, owned by God, and to be used for the purposes of God.'" Then when we
see something that looks like still waters, our first and deepest thought can be
"thank you God," instead of "if I put my house right here, with a big
picture window ..."
Wanting money - stuff - leaves us wanting.
So, I shall not want.
But wanting is important. Isn't it?
I had a health scare a couple of months ago. We asked for your prayers, but didn't say
much about why. I had a couple of seizures. No history. Surprising. Scary. And I'm okay.
Thanks to your prayers, and to the health care, doctors, medicine, machines that go
"ping," - all of which required someone to have wanted (and to have had the
creative and financial resources to realize those wants).
Wanting can lead to discovery, action, service.
Some years ago, a man was involved in relief efforts and he noticed the supplies -
which were finite - regularly ran out. This left him wanting. The relief was temporary and
it undermined the dignity of those forced to rely on handouts.
His wanting eventually led him to create Heifer Project International, the relief
organization that this church supported so heartily during Advent last year. Rather than
provide meat and other end products, Heifer Project provides live animals and seed and
training and opportunity for recipients to grow their own, as well as the requirement and
incentive to share their new-found wealth.
The animals so much a part of Heifer Project remind me of a pivotal line in Thornton
Wilder's play, The Matchmaker, (and the musical version, Hello, Dolly). Dolly says,
"Money, pardon my expression, money is like manure; it's not worth a thing unless
it's spread around encouraging things to grow."
It's easy to not want manure.
Unlike manure, however, "Money is not something that is morally neutral,
merely a resource to be used in good or bad ways depending solely upon our attitude toward
it." Foster calls money "a power that seeks to dominate us. ... an
active agent ... capable of inspiring devotion. ... asking for our allegiance in a way
that sucks the milk of human kindness out of our very being. That is why ... Jesus' ...
calls people to turn away from the mammon god in order to worship the one true God."
"Want" is empty idolatry - and want leads to discovery. Money can lead us
into trouble whether we have too little or too much, and ultimately is not what leads us
beside still waters. That isn't a "what" question. That's a "who"
question -the shepherd guiding the poor lost sheep, the host who prepares a table.
ALL are welcome to want to more closely follow the shepherd. Like at the manger in
Bethlehem, "humble shepherds and regal magi ... the poorest of the poor and the
richest of the rich," according to Foster.
And ALL are challenged in so following, to take up our cross, deny our selves - our
empty, money-driven wants - and follow the Shepherd to what we really want: some still
waters and green pastures, which lie beyond and through the desert scarceness and the
darkest valleys, knowing God's goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.
"Sit loosely on your possessions," (Rice), own without treasuring,
possess without being possessed, use money without serving money. "Bring money
into obedience to the will and ways of God." (Foster)
I want you to wrestle with your feelings about a couple of questions. Quietly, to
yourself, on a scale of 1 to 5, with God number 1, money, 5 - again a scale or continuum,
not an either/or choice - think about your response to the following:
-I tend to make important decisions in my life more on the basis of ...
-When I think of my future (career, family, retirement...) I tend to think more about
...
-I spend more of my day thinking about ...
And finally:
-No matter how I actually live my life, in my heart what I believe to be of utmost
importance is ... (Q's on p. 31 of "Can I")
My guess is a good many of us - if we're honest with ourselves - answer some of these
questions a little more one way and some a little more the other. And, I'm guessing that
last question was a little more on the God side.
What's inside? What do you want, deep in your heart?
Money doesn't lead us beside still waters, despite the illusion that it could.
Neverland or Fantasy Island is not a physical place that can be bought or possessed. It's
Psalm 23.
Examine your passions - your deepest want. Is it a phone/car/ island? Or is it right
relationship with the One who prepares a table before us? When we begin to put God first,
then what is important to God becomes important to us. We begin to see the sacred in each
other and in the world God has provided for us. ("Can I," p.28)
Wanting that, may lead us to say about all else, "I shall not want."
