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October 11, 2009 Amos 5:6-7, 10-15 A month or so ago, when the person who was scheduled for this morning asked if anyone would like to trade a Sunday for this one, I volunteered. Then, several weeks ago I first looked at the texts. For someone who has spent most of the past fifteen years working for economic justice, to overcome poverty, on the surface it would be easy. Amos is always good for a prophetic rant, a diatribe against those who “trample on the poor,” “push aside the needy,” who “turn justice into bitterness and cast righteousness to the ground.” And in the gospel, Jesus follows that with the instruction to “sell what you own and give the money to the poor.” I could go from there to talk about the growing inequality in this country, the growing number of people who are homeless and hungry, everything we see in the newspapers. But I do that every day at work, and it would be preaching to the choir, you already know all of that. And while a concern and even anger about that reality is certainly justified, it would be too easy, it might make me feel good, but wouldn’t be particularly challenging. And one thing we know about Jesus is that he is almost always challenging, always asking us to look at things in a new way. It’s rarely easy. I had a good talk with a friend this week, and among other things, he spoke of reading the gospel in a fresh way, seeking to find what Jesus is asking us to do. Too often when we read Scripture, our rational minds want to get into complex exegesis, textual analysis, historical context; rather than simply seeking to find what Jesus is telling us. Let’s look at the story in another way. It’s a familiar story – Jesus is beginning a journey when a man comes running up, kneels before him, and asks what he must do to gain eternal life. Jesus’ first response is to reply, “You know the commandments.” It seems almost dismissive – don’t bother me, I have a long way to walk today, you know what you’re supposed to do. But the man pushes harder, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” This makes Jesus take notice. He looks right at the man and loves him, sees into his soul. And this time he answers, but “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, give the money to the poor, then come follow me.” Jesus could see that the man was wealthy, had many possessions. That was not the answer he was expecting. He wasn’t willing to go there, so he is shocked and walks away grieving. Here’s where we usually focus on the condemnation of those with wealth. But the phrase that strikes me as the core of what Jesus was saying is, “You lack one thing.” Or, yes, you have followed the commandments, the teachings of our religion, but there is one more thing you must do, one thing in your life you must change before you can truly follow me. There are many stories in the gospels where Jesus has the ability to lovingly look into someone’s mind and soul, and see the one thing that was standing between them and God. The one thing that prevented them from truly following him. It is the “it” that our friend spoke about when he shared with us about the retreat he was recently on – what is “it” that stands in the way of our relationship with God. Jesus saw that Zaccheus needed to repay those he had defrauded. He saw that the disciples needed to understand that greatness was in servanthood, not in power or status. He saw the woman at the well who needed assurance in failed relationships. In this case, it was wealth, or more deeply, trusting in wealth, a desire for security. The man had many possessions, and the idea that he should give them up shocked him. So, I think for myself, what is the one thing I lack, the one more thing I must do, the thing I must change, the thing that hinders my fully entering into the kingdom of God. Or, more likely, several things. What would Jesus lovingly tell me? While I certainly don’t have great wealth, I do worry about financial security. For Jesus to suggest that I give up that security and simply trust in God to provide, then follow wherever He might lead, is scary. Or, it might be pride, a lack of trust. The feeling that I can do it all myself, I don’t need help from God or anyone else. I am usually the kind of person who thinks that if I want something done right, I have to do it myself. It’s hard for me to let go and trust God. It’s hard to follow rather than want to lead. Or, more likely, the reality that the daily demands of work intrude on my really spending time with God. It’s hard to make that a priority with all of the other competing priorities. Time for reflection and prayer too often are put in second place if there’s any time left after everything else. Each of us has things we struggle with, things we really don’t want to change. Perhaps it’s our security, our work, perhaps our thoughts or attitudes, our ego. There is nothing necessarily wrong with any of these things unless they become such a controlling factor in our lives that they prevent us from whole-heartedly following Jesus, from seeking to serve God first. For to truly seek first the kingdom of God, to enter the kingdom, to let go of other things we want first in our lives, to be willing to change, is difficult. Confronting that challenge from Jesus means that we may have to surrender some control or comfort. It’s safer not to surrender, to let go. It may leave us shocked and grieving. For, as Jesus concludes, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for us to let go and change. The disciples understood this human reaction when their response to Jesus was, “Then who can be saved?” The text says they were first “perplexed” and then “astounded.” And Jesus replies, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” If it is up to us alone to free ourselves from the things we think we can’t live without, to change the things we need to change, then it does seem impossible. That one thing we lack, that one more thing we need to do, will never get done. But what is impossible for us, is possible for God. With God’s help, we can find the strength to change what needs to be changed. For God, all things are possible. And, as the text from Hebrews assures us, we have one who sympathizes with our weaknesses. The one who enables us to “approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” I do try to approach God with boldness, to pour out my heart and soul, my stress and struggle, my fears and anxieties, my reluctance to change and let go. And to trust that when I do, I will find the grace that will help me to do what needs to be done. That is my prayer for all of us today. May we approach God with boldness, seek God’s mercy and grace, let go of what needs to go, change what needs to change. Do that one more thing, confident that with God all things are possible. Let us take a few minutes in silent reflection to think about what that one thing in each of our lives might be. . . . Lord God, DShank |
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