Monday, August 5, 2019


Monsters of More
By Griff Martin
A Sermon on Luke 12:13-21
For the Eighth Sunday Following Pentecost
August 4, 2019
For the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith

Incarnate and Resurrected God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it into a living and breathing new reality we can all together experience. Make us aware of your presence here in this space and in these words God, for if we are present to you then nothing else will matter, but if we are not present to you then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and the Comforter. Amen.

If Jesus is who we say Jesus is, (which is a question I think we should stop and reflect on more often than we do)…if Jesus is who we say Jesus is, then it makes sense to go to Jesus here in this moment with this request, to deal with this problem. If Jesus is on the side of those who are being taken advantage of, if Jesus is about justice and fairness and equality, if Jesus is about truth, if Jesus cares that the powerful don’t abuse the weak and that systems of power benefit all people…if Jesus is who Jesus says he is, then Jesus is the right guy for this particular problem. 

Or so thinks the younger brother in this text; the one who has come to Jesus for all those mentioned reasons, and can’t wait to bring his problem to Jesus (which is worth seeing…not to meet Jesus, but to bring his problem to Jesus. Another question probably worth pondering from time to time: Are we excited to meet Jesus, or just bring our problems to Jesus?). The younger brother heads off with his problem in hand, but the crowd is full that day, Jesus’ teachings are going on and on and on (and they are not the most exciting – go back and read the earlier part of this text; there is a reason we omitted it in our reading this morning), and on top of that, there are a lot of other problems in line ahead of him: people waiting to be healed, children wanting to be blessed, widows wanting a moment with Jesus, lepers wanting to be healed, blind wanting to see and who has time for that kind of problem when you have a money problem, right? So instead of waiting his turn, waiting for his moment, he just shouts and interrupts Jesus in the midst of Jesus’ teachings (and I think that is a huge clue to how to interpret Jesus’ reaction to him…because typically, those of us who interrupt are those of us who tend to think we are more important than others, #privilege). 

Now, this younger brother has obviously been taken advantage of; he has been the victim of injustice and unfairness. The powerful are taking advantage of him. Jewish law is quite direct about matters of inheritance: if a father has two sons, then the older boy is going to get 2/3 of the wealth, and the younger brother is going to get 1/3. Obviously in this case, the older brother has all the power in the situation because power naturally goes to the oldest male who, besides the benefit of being the oldest male, now holds the majority of the wealth…So went the world, or actually, so goes the world. 

It makes logical sense that the brother who interrupts Jesus’ teachings this day is a younger brother. The older brother is entitled by law to most of the wealth. If he was being taken advantage of, then the powers of the day would have surely already stepped in to right this wrong. However, if the one who legally should have the funds is the one at fault, the powers of the day might not step in quite as quickly. After all, even if they do step in, in the end this one (the presumed older brother) will still rightfully hold the majority of the wealth…and you know what you don’t want to do – cut off the hand that could feed you. 

If the religious teachers of the day were to go to the older brother and tell him, ‘you really must give 1/3 of this to you younger brother, you are in the wrong,’ they risk upsetting the older brother and they themselves being cut off. 

So, it makes sense that the one voicing this request would be the younger brother, the one who is a victim of an unfair system. His father died, and his older brother is refusing to give him his share, and he has gone to religious leader after religious leader, but they turned him away. His power and wealth are less, thus, his voice is less. So went the world – actually, once again, so goes the world. 

And this seems like exactly the type of fight Jesus would be perfect in – Jesus our warrior of justice, our standard of truth, our holder of fairness and equality, the right to every wrong. So of course, Jesus’ reply is, “Bring your older brother to me. Let me talk to him because you are right, you do deserve your fair share. Let me fix this for you.”

Except, that is not his answer at all. “Friend, who sent me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” Essentially, Jesus states, “this is not my problem.”

Now one of the mysteries of the text is why he says this. And here is my reading of it: because he hears it in the voice of the younger brother, a truth way beyond this request (maybe he hears it because of the privilege of thinking his problem was worth cutting in line and interrupting Jesus for). I think what he heard was not a cry of injustice, but a cry of greed (which we have a real clue to: pay attention to his following line where he begins the parable with the words “be on guard against all kinds of greed”). 

I think Jesus heard this request and realized that it wasn’t about just one wrong, it was about a much bigger problem; a problem that plagues us all.

And it was about money, but it was about so much more than just money.

It’s the problem that is summed up in the brilliant testimony of the night Kurt Vonnegut and Joseph Heller attended a literary party at a friend’s house. A friend who was very successful; a billionaire whose extravagance was well known. During the party, Kurt with his amazing quick wit said to Joseph Heller, “How does it feel to know that during this party and the time we have been here, our host has made more off his royalties than the entirety you made for Catch-22?” Joseph responded, “That may be, but I have one thing our host will never have. Enough.”

Enough. It’s not a word we hear much in our world, where the cry of our heart is “more.

Just listen to this: we live in an age where the middle class is disappearing. However, most people still identify as middle class, because when asked to gauge their own wealth, they think in terms of Real Housewives, Kardashians and every other like ilk. We have been trained to think in terms of what another has that we don’t have. We think in terms of needs and wants. 

That way of thinking is actually one of the few things that unites us today. Lynne Twist is a global activist and fund-raiser who has worked with some of the world’s richest and poorest, and she says what unifies both is the word ‘more.’ In her words: “In the world of overabundance, the conversation is dominated by what we don’t have and what we want to get. No matter our circumstances or who we are, we swim in conversations about what there isn’t enough of.” Just think: if I asked you to make a list of what you want or what you are grateful you have, which list would be easier to immediately create?

We are monsters of the more

I think what Jesus heard was the cry of each of our hearts, if we listen. And it’s one word: More. 

And yes, it’s about money, but it’s also about power and time and privilege and the list goes on and on. More of everything. Because the world has taught us, we deserve it. Because we have fallen for the cultural lie that the more we have, the better we are. Because we don’t believe there is enough; we believe that it’s limited, so we grab as much as we can out of fear. 

The withholding of inheritance issue Jesus heard was certainly wrong, but it was a tiny wave in a much bigger ocean than was threatening, is threatening, to drown us all. 

So instead of righting this wrong, instead of giving the brother what he deserves, he reminds us that we actually don’t deserve anything. He tells a parable (and I don’t know anyone who claims this as their favorite parable because it steps on all our toes).

There was a rich man whose land produced abundantly. Notice who does what in that sentence:  the rich man doesn’t do anything, the land does. 

However, the rich man is the one who benefits from the production of the land. Fruits of all sorts, vegetables of all sorts, and the crop is rich and abundant. It’s not just enough to feed him this week, it’s enough to feed him a lifetime. He has fruits and vegetables to eat today and tomorrow, and he has enough to store away for winter, and beyond that, enough to can to last him a lifetime. In fact, the land has given him so much that he does not even have a place to store it. He has to build a bigger barn.

Pull down the old barn, burn it, and build a bigger one to store all his crops. 

And Jesus continues the parable (and at this point in the text, Jesus delivers a bit of a performance; he tells the story as if he is the man): “And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years: relax, eat, drink, be merry!”

Now, let’s pause here, because there are some things worth talking about. 1) That is a weird sentence. Referring to your own soul in the third person is not the way we normally talk. But in this parable, Jesus really uses pronouns to make a point. In just 3 verses, 3 sentences, this farmer uses 14 personal pronouns. Pay attention and be wary of folks who, in three sentences, use 14 personal pronouns; it’s evidence of something more (or maybe, something less). 2) Those last words, “eat, drink and be merry,” aren’t they Scripture? And if you were thinking that, you are correct. Those are part of Scripture, but only part. It’s from Isaiah, and this farmer seems to have forgotten the whole verse: “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

Now, Jesus has not forgotten the end of the verse, and according to this parable, neither has God: “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And those things you have prepared, you have stored away, whose will they be?” 

It seems making scarce what God makes abundant is the direct road to death. 

And then if that is not hard enough, if your toes have not already been stepped on, get ready for them to be stomped on. Jesus sums up the parable, and because Jesus does not want ambiguity in this one (this is not a choose-your-own-adventure contemplative text), it’s black and white: “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not right toward God.” 

It’s pretty straightforward: We are not to make scarce what God makes abundant.

Now, we love to make this parable about money. And again, it certainly is about money, but it’s not limited to just money. It’s about time, talent, power and inclusion. This parable is about everything that has haunted and plagued our world for so long, that for which we are finally paying a price. It’s about the fact that for too long, way too few had way too much, and because of that, everything is out of order. 

We have ended up with a world where there is a barn that has a very large storage area but has a very narrow front door. It’s a door that for a long time has belonged to one gender, one race, one sexual identity, one financial class, one religion. And just look at the news from yesterday and today, or the 32 candles we just lit in worship: this does not seem to be working for us. 

Once again, we have taken what God gave in abundance, and allowed it to be made scarce. And once again, that has led to death. 

And our day of reckoning has finally arrived. Although it should be noted, some of us are saying ‘our day of reckoning’ and others see this as the promised day of Jubilee: the holiday commanded by the Old Testament but rarely (if ever) practiced. The day when everything returns to everyone, when all is communal, and all is shared. The day when we finally see the abundance that is all around us. 

It’s time we finally put away our fear that there is not enough and hold to the promise of God that there is enough. That there is abundance around us, and that everything that is good and true grows not by being hoarded, but by being shared. 

It’s changing our very way of thinking, which is repentance. Shifting from thinking of our needs and what we need more of, to thinking of the abundance of what we have and can then give.

And if you don’t think that is Gospel, you might be missing the point of the very Incarnation of Jesus, which is the most telling evidence we have of God’s theology of abundance and scarcity: A God of all power chose to take on human flesh and become a pretty powerless man, one born to poor parents and who had no apparent status, a Jewish carpenter who became a teacher and was crucified by the powers of the day. A God of all power who became powerless. 

A God who choose to give up power instead of hoarding power. 

A God who knew that by giving up power, power would actually be shared and become even more abundant, so that we in turn could continue to give it away and grow it each time we give it. 

God could have chosen to hoard all that belongs God, but instead, chose to share. And you would think we in turn did the same, but somehow, we didn’t. But we can now. Because the deepest truth of life, the truth of the Incarnation and the Cross and the Empty Tomb is that by giving away, you actually receive.

Everything good in life grows when it is shared: love, power, hope, truth, beauty. 

A few weeks ago, when I got to Colorado, I was so excited about seeing one of my favorite sites, the hummingbird. Every year during the warmer summer months, the back porch in Colorado is covered in hummingbirds moving from feeder to feeder. Constant motion because the hummingbird life happens in flight. They spend the majority of their hours moving and flying; thus, they need constant nourishment, thus moving from feeder to feeder. Most years I can drink my morning coffee while looking at the mountains and watching over a dozen hummingbirds at the same time. However, this year on the first day, I saw nothing. 

I assumed it was a fluke.

And then it happened the next day and I got very angry. I was ready to blame a whole host of environmental issues and political leaders who I am always ready to blame, why were the hummingbirds not on the back porch moving from feeder to feeder? 

And then I realized what was missing…the feeders had not been put out yet. And that is a real key in getting the birds to come to the feeders – they need feeders.

We won’t find what we don’t put out. If we hoard the things we do have, we should not expect to find more. However, if we open our hands and learn to live in abundance, we will find more than we ever hoped for. 

We don’t need bigger barns; we need bigger hearts. 

Because everything that matters in life is not a limited supply; there is an abundance if we are abundant. 

Which might answer our question on why Jesus refuses to get involved in this family issue in terms of telling the older brother he has to give 1/3 to the younger brother. Jesus knows that by getting involved and making more rules, the family will be torn even further apart. However, if Jesus can get them to see that they have more than enough for their needs, they might actually come together and be able to do something really good for the world. 

I think the same lesson applies today. It’s not rules and laws that will bring us together; it will be us seeing that there is more than enough and coming together to use that and do something really good for the world. 

It’s the lesson we learn every time we go to the Communion Table.

So may we be people who, like the God we worship, refuse to hoard, but instead give everything we can, because that is how we bring about the Kingdom of God – by making sure everyone has a place at the table and has an abundance in front of them. Amen and Amen. 

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