Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Proper 27, Year B, RCL

Delivered by The Rev. Mary Cat Young
November 8, 2009
The Episcopal Church of Our Saviour

Ruth 3:1-5; 4:13-17
Psalm 127
Hebrews 9:24-28
Mark 12:38-44

Before I begin, let me share with you a quick story about how this little item came into my possession. During my seminary days I lived right next to Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts. One night, while on a walk with a friend we were standing on a street corner talking about NPR’s show Car Talk (Cah Tawlk). A man overheard us and mentioned that the studio they broadcast from was across the hall from his business, along with the law offices of “Dewey, Cheatem and Howe.” My companion and I laughed and accepted his invitation to come up and see the doors to the studio.
As we walked up the stairs he asked us about ourselves. When he heard that I was a seminarian he said, “I’d like to give you something.” The man shared with us that he was Jewish and his business was dealing in rare coins and collectibles. He gave me this little square coin holder which holds a “Widow’s Mite,” a small copper coin dated from the time of Herodias Antipas, and thus the kind of coin like the one’s spoken of in our Gospel story this morning. He wanted me to have it, and though I tried to refuse, his gift of kindness to me was of greater value him than the coin itself. It was a friendly gesture – and one that cost him very little, but showed his genuine desire for the coin to serve a purpose of goodness in my future work. And that is how this widow’s mite came into my possession.
To see it, is to see what nothing looks like. The insignificance of a coin such as the one the widow gave is obvious when you have it in your hand. Less than a penny was the value, and yet to a woman of her time and place, a woman who had no regular means of income, no one’s protection, no one to fend for her in the world, this little nothing was literally everything.
The faith she invested in this coin, and the way that she used it is commendable. She knew that giving to the temple was a means of participating in the relationship she had with God – participating in the ritual, not only with her prayers, but with what little she had in her pockets.
The tragedy here is that as Jesus watched her do this, he lamented that her giving was to a corrupt house that would not return the care to her that she so desperately needed. He saw the giving of her heart, and yet wept at the injustice that she would not properly be cared for in the way she deserved. Jesus pointed to a flawed system that allowed its most vulnerable member give all that she had in the name of God. He knew that she would not reap the benefits of the care that she deserved after literally giving her life away with a contribution that was worth practically nothing. But it was hers to give, and she gave it willingly.
The converse image is shown to us as well; that of the boasting, flashy, prideful giver – a leader in the synagogue, well dressed, well statured, and making it well known that their giving was worthy of notice. And yet, despite the monetary value of the giving of the rich, that which is given out of arrogance is less valuable than the gift of the widow’s mite.
When considering what we have to offer, what we can afford to give, and who we should share our resources and financial gifts with, the question: “How much is enough?” is often posed. We live in tough economic times. Pensions that were invested in the stock-market have been reduced. Job security is questionable on a day-to-day basis in some fields. College educations are to be funded, mortgage payments to be kept up, and health expenses to be paid or prepared for. Everyone is at risk. Everyone is vulnerable. And despite the fine clothing, and the privilege of climate-controlled home environments, we all feel as though we have more in common with the widow than the scribe described in the story. “Enough” is a question that comes out of a place of scarcity, a place of fear. What is the acceptable offering? What can I do to fulfill my obligation and be done with it?
“Enough” does not encompass the abundant gift of giving with love. Truly, the greatest difference between the widow and scribe is the fact that what she gave was not only a monetary gift, but one of faith, a gift of the heart. Her own well-being, her own necessity for simple things were not at stake – because for her, she was giving her love.
The same was true of the man who gave me the gift of the widow’s mite. Surely some monetary value is attached to this tiny little piece of nothing, certainly more now than when it was currency in its own time and place. But the value of sharing a conversation with others on a lonely night, the value of knowing that this would be put to use by someone to whom it did matter, the value of doing a Mitzvah, or a simple act of human kindness was worth more to this man in the simple act of giving it away than any cash value he might receive upon achieving a bill of sale.
As you open yourself to the season of discernment that is inevitable at this time in the church year – the time of contemplating how your gifts, how your time, how your talent might be given to participate in the needs of others, the needs of this community and the needs of the world, I remind you of the importance of allowing your heart to enter the process. What and how you give of yourself does not rely on the question of “how much is enough.” Because when your heart is in it, the abundance and generosity of the spirit within you allows you to do amazing things.
Certainly there are the real life, hard numbers that need to happen in terms of the upkeep and maintenance of the building where we gather – but our life together, our community of care for one another, the sense of commitment to one another that makes us want to give a helping hand in the garden, to volunteer with the youth activities, to host a family of promise dinner, to be in conversation through Sunday school classes, and to face the needs of the poor who are not only just outside our doors, but in our Garth, and in our parish hall, and in the presence of our community, these are the ways that this building calls our hearts and hands and our financial resources in to action – into the business of building the kingdom of God right here, and right now. These things are priceless.
Just as Christ’s giving of himself for us, even to the point of death on the cross… his gift for the world was of a value that meant nothing to him – he was God – he could die a thousand times and it would not mean anything because of the power he possessed to overcome death. And yet, the gift that it was for us, the gift of the promise of eternal life, the gift of redemption from our sins, that no matter who we are or how we struggle with this life, there is a love and forgiveness and resurrection that belongs to us through Jesus Christ, that gift to us is priceless. How much is enough? Is this the community where you choose to invest yourself, where you invest your children and families, where you give your heart away to those who, without you would not be cared for? If you give your whole heart, then you’ve just begun. For “where your heart is, there will your treasure be also.” (Matthew 6:21 author paraphrase) Amen.

Proper 23, Year B, RCL

Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
Psalm 90:12-17
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

The Bible is a funny thing. Though we receive it in our contemporary context as one volume that can easily be accessed, carried around, handled like any other book, we often overlook the fact that rather than it being one book, it is a library of texts. A collection of over 70 history books, letters, gospels, wisdom sayings, songs, poems, law references and stories written by as many or more authors, not to mention editors, redactors, translators, and the number of hands that adjusted, corrected and enhanced the words delivered to us, collected and formatted into one cozy little volume.

In other words, the writings that we listen to, the words we remind ourselves of, the saying and stories that we hear when we gather as a community to learn together, have come a long way to get into our hands, and to be heard by our ears.

William Tyndale, a determined protestant reformer and minister of the 16th Century made it the focus of his life to ensure that English speaking Christians gained access to the privilege of hearing scripture spoken in their language. His work to directly translate the Old and New Testaments from their Hebrew and Greek written forms were directly opposed by authorities of Roman Catholicism and the Royal Court. His commitment to this cause allowed him to be responsible for writing almost 90% of the King James Version of the Bible. Tyndale is attributed with coining the phrases: “let there be light,” “my brother’s keeper,” “salt of the earth,” and “fight the good fight” to name a few. This week we remembered William Tyndale on October 6, the anniversary of his death nearly 500 years ago.

There is no record of why Tyndale was so committed to translating scripture – but it is clear from his life’s story that he would not rest, and did not allow the danger of this business to keep him from accomplishing this task, even though it cost him his life. Perhaps he was a poetic writer and enjoyed the challenge. Perhaps he was a lover of the church and of the Word, and recognized the challenge and the promise that lay within the texts he devoted his life to. Perhaps he simply believed that the message found in scripture again and again that the law of love is truly the greatest commandment should be spoken to men and women on the street in their own language, so that those who needed to hear that message most could do so and understand immediately.

Regardless of his motivations, William Tyndale’s work grants us access to the wisdom and the challenge that lies in our scripture readings each week. And it is our duty as faithful bearers of this library to take on the challenging task of wrestling with scripture – in our own lives and in our life as a community.

In seminary I had the opportunity to take a scripture course titled: Texts of Terror, named for a book of the same title that explores some of the hardest passages of the Bible. Stories of misogyny, of unjustifiable violence, of wrathful vengeance, and of Biblical teachings that may be difficult to consider, all that exist within the canon of the texts we hold sacred. So sacred in fact, that at the ordination of deacons, priests and the consecration of bishops, ordinands not only vow to devote themselves to the study of scripture, but also sign a commitment that states that we believe all things necessary for salvation are contained in holy scripture. When it came time for me to preach in that class, today’s Gospel was my chosen “text of terror.”

As a person who has benefitted from privileges being a middle class Caucasian raised in the Western world, I have had good reason to fear and disparage at the hearing of this text. After all, like the rich man, I have followed the commandments, I have committed myself to a faith life and practice that is devoted to proclaiming Jesus as my savior, and I too, have many possessions. Isn’t my faith enough? Isn’t my desire to follow enough? Isn’t it my right that I should enjoy the earnings that I have worked hard for, that I have given time and talent to produce, and thus collect my rightful compensation, and enjoy life in the here and now? Does the question sound familiar?

And yet here we have a Gospel text that says, not so fast.

You may lead a life that is good and righteous. You may not waste your sins on murder and slander. But if your own piety is solely devoted to the perfection of your own soul, if your desire to fulfill your own need to be faultless allows you ignore the obvious needs of those around you, then you have missed the point completely.

The rich man seeks to possess something he cannot buy – eternal life. Jesus looks with compassion upon the rich man. But he also speaks a hard truth to him. Those commandments that you live by, you do with ease. For you are in a position that allows you rise above those challenges. Your wealth allows a freedom and a privilege in the way you live your life that is only known to a small fraction of the community in which you live. And yet, that wealth is not a means of grace. It is not a means of receiving the immeasurable gift of the assurance of God’s love for you for all time. In fact, if that material wealth is what provides your only sense of self-value and your only means of judging your position in the world, then it will actually hinder you from the ability to receive the grace of God. If you wish to follow me, if you wish to uphold my teaching, then you should not allow yourself to be bound by your belongings. To be possessed by your possessions. Let them go, and let yourself understand what it is to live like those who live only by the grace of God and by the kindness of their community. When you are ready to do this, you will be in a position to understand and receive eternal life.

The rich man was discouraged by this, and rightfully so. After all, sacrifice is not about giving offerings that mean nothing to you. There is no challenge in that. The challenge for the wealthy is the opportunity to let go of some privilege, some of the freedom that wealth provides, so that others might benefit from it – those who would have no way of experiencing certain freedoms, like the living without fear of the next medical bill that will arrive in the mail, or the inability to cover the cost to educate your child so that they might have opportunities that you did not. I wonder if the rich young man was being challenged to experience the world in a new way, so that he might gain a deeper understanding of the capacity of kindness he could offer his community as a result of his position of wealth.

I wonder if he didn’t leave Jesus’ side and consider how he might change the way he used his riches in the world around him. I wonder if he allowed Jesus’ words to enter in – or if it was similar to the difficulty of allowing a camel through the eye of a needle.

It’s a funny thing scripture, there is not just one mention of a rich young man. There are other stories in the old and new testament of rich men using their wealth unjustly – to seek power over others, to allow their privilege to supersede that of poor men under their care – to take unfair advantage of the position of power that their wealth granted them in the here and now. And there are wisdom sayings and psalms, warning the rich man to make right choices with their treasure, for despite their power and privilege today, they will perish and those riches will not travel with them. This is not a new message, but it is a challenge that scripture poses to us today.

In our contemporary context, most of us live in relative comfort, some more than others, but generally speaking, we live with the security of income, comfortable housing, and access to discretionary spending – that is, income that does not go to providing food, shelter and basic necessities. How we, as wielders of discretionary spending choose to use our wealth – where we choose to live and the lifestyle we choose to pursue all play into this challenge posed by Jesus.
How will you allow these words of scripture, this challenging story of Jesus and the rich young man to enter in as you consider the wealth, and its power and privilege that is at your fingertips? Does this story pose itself as a text of terror for you? Do you find yourself wondering how a camel makes its way through the eye of a needle?

As we give thanks for the access that we have for scripture in our lives, we must also take up the challenges it poses. We must also accept the responsibility that we have received as hearers of the word – as ones who wish to follow, but must do so with the burden of wealth and privilege that our contemporary society provides.

When last I preached on this text I was weighed down by many possessions. Things that surrounded me, but had little purpose, nor provided insight into the life I was being called to lead. Many things have changed for me, and though many of those possessions are gone, there are new ones that have found their way into my life and my home. With each return to this piece of scripture I must take up for myself the question that Jesus has for the rich young man. Upon hearing it today, I am reminded that Jesus loved the man, and then challenged him again. I call on you to know that Jesus loves you, and challenges you to consider these things today as well.

For Jesus said,
"Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age--houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions--and in the age to come eternal life…” Amen.

Delivered by The Rev. Mary Catherine Young
October 11, 2009
The Episcopal Church of Our Saviour