Giving to be Free

October 25, 2020 • Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Matthew 19:16-24, Luke 6:20-26

Katie Reimer, guest preacher

iStock-474902269, by Zulapi

Money.

Money is one of those subjects that most of us are uncomfortable talking about.  It’s right up there with other taboo conversation topics, like mental health, death, sex, politics and religion.  I’m not sure what propelled me to offer to preach about money, but here we are!

We spend a fair amount of time worrying about money.  We often think about how to make more money.  But we tend not to reflect very much on how we relate to money. 

For those of us committed to following the way of Jesus, it is essential to realize that Jesus had a lot to say about money.  Jesus recognized the power that money holds over many of our lives.  And he knew that this awkward conversation topic was essential for our physical, emotional and spiritual well being. 

The membership vow that I am exploring today is the one that says:

 “I will make a regular financial commitment to the church in proportion to my income.” 

 As I began to work on this sermon, I asked myself: Why is it important to give a regular financial commitment to one's spiritual community.  And...how does this spiritual discipline of financial giving affect our capacity to experience the fullness of life.

And so, let us turn to the difficult words of Jesus.  Let us see what they reveal about God’s concern over our relationship with money. 

When Jesus spoke the stark words in the gospel of Luke that Amar just read for us, it was still relatively early in his ministry.  Up until this point, Jesus had been traveling around, teaching small crowds, healing individual people, and retreating regularly from the crowds to pray.  The momentum had been building as people were drawn in by Jesus’ apparent power to heal physical, emotional and spiritual wounds. 

The moment described in the 6th chapter of Luke was a big moment.  A defining moment. 

Instead of Jesus traveling to reach out to people, now a “great crowd” had gathered from all over to be with Jesus.  This appears to have been Jesus’ first large audience in his ministry.  The masses had gathered with high hopes and expectations that Jesus would be able to heal them from everything that was hurting. 

There was a lot of pressure at this moment!  Jesus spoke to the expectant crowd by saying these words:

“Blessed are you who are poor.”

Blessed.  Consecrated, sacred, holy, worthy of reverence, divinely favored, fortunate. 

Blessed.  Being in a state that leads to happiness and gratitude.

Jesus went on -

“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the realm of God.”

The realm of God.  The sphere, the territory, the neighborhood, the department of God.  The place where the intentions of God for the well being of the entire world are of utmost importance and urgency.

That’s quite a provocative opening statement - “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the realm of God.”

This account in the gospel of Luke differs from the one in the gospel of Matthew, where Jesus is recorded as saying

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the realm of God.” 

The version in Matthew may be better known among those of us who have enough to eat, a roof over our heads, and clothes to wear.  But the version in the gospel of Luke is essential reading for all who are striving to follow the way of Jesus.

“Blessed are you who are poor - materially poor - for yours is the realm of God.”

God favors and labors for those who are experiencing physical hunger, grief and economic desperation. 

Latin American liberation theologian, Gustavo Gutierrez, notes that the Beatitudes reveal a God who is the “defender and protector of the real-life poor, those deprived of what is necessary to live as human beings.”  (The Power of the Poor in History, 116).  The Beatitudes reveal a God whose primary area of concern is meeting the needs of those who lack what is necessary to live a dignified life.

Gutierrez cautions us, however, against calling poverty a Christian ideal, noting that this has caused systems of economic injustice and exploitation to continue (54).  The Beatitudes make it clear that the intention of God is not to keep people in a state of perpetual deprivation, but to liberate them from it. 

In other words, God is the original champion of universal human rights. 

***

The gospel of Matthew brings another challenging word from Jesus about money.  In the passage we heard read today, we learn about Jesus’ encounter with a wealthy young person.  This person was conscientious and striving to live an ethical life.  She followed all the commandments diligently. But the primary way she walked through the world - the adjective that came to mind when people saw her - was “wealthy.” 

Jesus didn’t seek her out.  She sought Jesus out.  She asked what she must do to have a free and full life.  Jesus told her to follow the commandments.  She asked which ones.  He told her, and she said she had followed them her entire life.

And then...there must have been a lump in her throat, or a crack in her voice when this wealthy young person pressed Jesus further.  She asked what more she must do. 

This woman must have known that something was still holding her captive.  That despite striving to be a good person for her entire life, something was still holding her back from the fullness of life. 

Jesus looked at her more closely this time, and told her to consider a vow of poverty.  Jesus invited her to follow him into a life of solidarity with the economically poor.  At this invitation, her face fell, and she walked away with profound sadness, because her material possessions were many.

Jesus turned and said to the others who had witnessed this interaction:

“The truth is, it is difficult for a rich person to enter the kindom of heaven.  I’ll say it again - it is easier for a camel to pass through the Needle’s Eye gate than for the wealthy to enter the kindom of heaven.”

This wealthy young person’s sadness reveals a lot about her relationship to money at that moment of her life.  She did not walk away with arrogance or rage.  She walked away bearing the painful realization that she had no idea who she was without her wealth.  She could not imagine the possibility of living without an abundance of material possessions. 

In short, this moment revealed that she was shackled by her money.

***

I wonder…

Why is it so difficult for the wealthy to enter the realm of God? 

What happens to us when we find ourselves with an abundance of money? 

Does our relationship with money change when we get more of it?

The first thing I would like to explore is money and shame.

Our relationship with money involves shame for many of us.  The world puts a lot of value on our financial picture.  Many of us feel shame over not having enough money, or not being able to afford the kinds of clothes or cars or apartments or experiences that others around us can afford. 

Years ago, when my nephew was in pre-K, I visited his class during lunch.  I sat around a miniature table that was about 3 feet off the ground, with 8 tiny chairs designed for 4 year old bodies.  At one point, my nephew told his friends that I didn’t have a car because I lived in NYC.  This wasn’t strange to my nephew, who had heard my stories about riding buses and subways and trains in New York.  But the other kids’ eyes widened with surprise and concern.  4 of the kids at the other end of the table started whispering amongst themselves, glancing over at me from time to time.  Then a very sweet little girl walked over to me, placed her hand gently on my knee, and told me with a very serious expression on her face, “Miss Katie, you can buy a car for 100 money.” 

I can’t say that I felt any shame over a table of 4 year olds’ concern over my not having a car!  But there have been countless other times in my life that I have felt shame over what I lack.  I have felt the pain of other peoples’ eyes on me.  People noticing the things that I lack.  People whispering amongst themselves about my deprivation.  I pursued a life in the arts.  There are many things I don’t have that others have.

Sometimes people were genuinely concerned about my lack of something.  Other times they have teased or mocked me.  Worst of all is when people said nothing at all, but I could sense their judgement or their pity.

Although I felt proud of my car-less New Yorker status that day, the fact that a table full of 4 year olds felt such urgency that I needed to have a car is telling.  Even at their young age, these kids had absorbed an idea of what kinds of things people should have to be considered normal.  I sensed that they pitied me for what I lacked.

It’s not only those who lack money or particular possessions who feel shame.  People with wealth also feel shame over having too much money. 

A New York Times article from 2017 called “What the Rich Won’t Tell You” explores the shame of wealthy New Yorkers, who were interviewed anonymously for the article. 

One woman in her late 30s -around my age - confessed that she took the price tags off her clothes and the label off their $6 bread, so their nanny would not see them.  She explained that she was uncomfortable with the inequality between herself and her nanny, a Latina immigrant.  Her household had an annual income of $250K, and also several million dollars in inherited wealth.  But, as the article notes, hiding the price tags cannot hide privilege.  There is no doubt that this family’s nanny is aware of the class gap between her and her employer.

The article also notes that those interviewed never referred to themselves as rich or upper class, preferring instead to use terms like comfortable or fortunate.  Some said that they were middle-class compared to the super-wealthy New Yorkers.

Our relationship to money is often tied to the painful emotion of shame.  We feel shame over not having enough.  And we feel shame over having too much.

***

Our relationship to money is also tied to fear. 

We fear running out of money.  We fear losing our ability to pay rent or a mortgage payment.  We fear being hungry or homeless.  We fear not being able to buy the clothes we want, or not having the resources to eat out, go to plays, or travel.  We fear not having enough money to retire with ease.

Beneath these debilitating fears, an even deeper insecurity haunts many of us. 

We are afraid of being worthless. 

Our worth is so often measured by our bank accounts, our assets and our retirement accounts.  The question “what are you worth?” is usually a question about our financial picture.

Lebanese-American poet, Kahlil Gibran, wrote in his poem “On Giving,”

And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full,
the thirst that is unquenchable?

What a remarkable and concise insight.  Our fear of need is need itself.  Need for reassurance that we will be okay whether we are hungry or whether we are full.  Need for reassurance that we are valuable and beloved, no matter what is in our bank accounts.

**

Money carries a tremendous amount of power in this world.  So many of us live our lives relating to money with shame and fear.  But the promises of money do not necessarily lead to a rich life. 

When we cannot bear the thought of who we would be without our money, this is a sure sign that we are placing our sense of worth in our material possessions.  And this is of deep concern to the God who longs for us to live with the confidence that our worthiness is absolute. 

In fact, as the Beatitudes in Luke 6 show us, the more we are deprived of a dignified life, the more God steps in to fiercely defend our worthiness to have a good life.

The scriptures are full of evidence that this is true.

As soon as God gazed upon the creation in the book of Genesis, She proclaimed that it was good. Very good.

When Jesus was baptized, a dove from heaven appeared to make sure that Jesus knew God was well pleased with him.  And that reassurance at Jesus’ baptism was made before Jesus began his ministry.  Before he did anything to deserve it. 

It is my prayer that we would all be blessed with the trust that our worth lies with God’s fierce love for us.  There is nothing we can do or fail to do that will separate us from the love of God.  God will always look at our core and call us good - very good.  God will always call us worthy and beloved.

***

So back to the questions I posed earlier about why it is so difficult for the wealthy to enter the realm of God...and how our relationship with money changes as we get more of it.

It seems to me that the more money we have, the more we are tempted to attach our sense of worth to our wealth. 

The world paves the way for people with money to be treated with respect and dignity.  The more money a person has, the more respect and dignity she is given. The more people receive respect and dignity because of their money, the harder it is for them to trust that their worth has nothing to do with their bank account.

With this understanding of the slippery tendency to equate our worth with our material possessions, we can return to the membership vow - “I will make a regular financial commitment to the church in proportion to my income.” 

I asked in the beginning of this sermon why it is important to give a regular financial commitment to one's spiritual community, and how this relates to our capacity to experience the fullness of life.

On one level, you could say that making a regular financial commitment is a way of investing in building up a place you care about.  Or...you could say that generosity in giving makes you a better person.  Or you could argue that giving back to the community is a way of being responsible stewards of all that God has given you.

There is some truth here, but there is a risk in all of these reasons for giving.  In each case, a regular financial gift to one’s spiritual community can become a trap. 

If we are giving solely to invest in building up the place we care about, our gift will depend on the worthiness of the recipient.  If we cannot find a place worthy in our eyes, we will withhold our dollars.  Also, giving solely to build up a community that we care about creates a dangerous sense of control over the places we contribute money to.

If we are being generous to be “good people,” or to be seen in the eyes of others as good, our gift needs to result in affirmation and praise, whether internal or external.  If we still struggle to believe that we are good, or if others do not acknowledge us for our generosity, it would be very easy for us to close our pocketbooks.

If we are giving money solely to demonstrate to ourselves and others that we are responsible stewards of the blessings of God, we fall into the trap of believing that our worthiness is greater in the eyes of God the more we give.  This is also false.  Our worthiness in the eyes of God is absolute.

I think that the more important reason to give a regular financial gift to one’s spiritual community is to detach our sense of worth from the money we have.

There is no amount of money we can have - and no amount of money we can give away - that will make us more worthy in the eyes of God.  God will always defend our worthiness to receive food when we are hungry.  God will always protect us from ourselves, when we hold the incorrect perception that our full stomachs mean we have earned God’s favor.

My own journey of financial giving has been both difficult and glorious. 

As someone who pursued a life in the arts, and then more recently going to seminary, I have frequently felt behind in obtaining the things that our society defines as necessary for adulthood or maturity.  There have been many moments when I have compared my own material possessions to those of others my age, and felt I was behind.  That I was immature.  That I was not really an adult.

At those moments, I wondered if I should really be giving money away to my spiritual community and to other causes.  I wondered if maybe I should keep all of my resources for myself to catch up to the standards of adulthood that have been set by the American middle class. 

But my journey of financial giving has also been glorious.  When I see all the beauty and meaning that our spiritual community has fostered, I feel excited by what is possible when we invest in our collective well being.  And, I am learning day by day what this very sermon is teaching all of us - that when I give money, I find freedom from the traps of believing that my worth is tied to my wealth.

And so, friends on the journey, I encourage us to -

Give regularly to unshackle ourselves from the false belief that money makes us more valuable.

Let us give regularly to enter the realm of God.

Let us give regularly to experience the fullness of life.

Let us give regularly in order to be free.

In closing, I point to Paul’s letter to the Philippians.  In chapter 4, Paul shares that he has learned to be content with whatever he has.  Paul writes:

“I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty.  In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.”

May we have the capacity to learn with Paul this secret of being content in all circumstances.  When we are hungry and in need, may we have the wisdom to recognize that ours is the realm of God.  And when we have plenty and are well-fed, may we have the courage to disentangle our sense of worth from what we have.

In all circumstances, may we claim the freedom to enter the kindom of God.

This is the good news. Amen.


(c) 2020 Katie Reimer
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