Today's Sermon
Oct. 11th, 2009 08:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chrishansenhomeOctober 11, 2009 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: Wisdom 7:7-11; Ps. 89; Hebrews 4:12-13; Mark 10:17-30
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
I am currently reading a book called Monk Habits for Everyday People: Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants. That’s a pretty startling subtitle, as one doesn’t often hear of Evangelical Protestants writing approvingly of anything to do with monks or monastic life.
One of the vows that most monks and nuns make is the vow of poverty. We are all familiar with that vow; many of us might have been poor in the past, are poor, now, or will be poor sometime in the future, perhaps after we retire. The poverty of a monk, however, is different from the common, garden variety of poverty that we know in our lives today.
Why is there a vow of poverty, however? Is being poor, not possessing “things” or “stuff”, intrinsically holier than being well-off or even rich?
The rich man in the Gospel today would not have enjoyed the book I am reading now. While only a small part of it is devoted to monastic poverty, I suspect that were he to read it he’d throw down the book in horror when he got to that chapter.
Jesus tells him to sell all that he has and give it to the poor—only after that can he come and follow Jesus. Why? The Church itself is a relatively rich institution: the Church Commissioners invest around five billion pounds for the good of the Church of England. Many parishes in the Church of England (and other denominations) have considerable financial resources. Does this mean that the Church as a whole cannot follow Jesus while these vast sums are in its possession?
Money and wealth of other kinds is not intrinsically evil. That Biblical quotation that is often thrown at this subject: “Money is the root of all evil.” is, as you may know, misquoted. The entire quotation is “The love of money is the root of all evil.”
One more debunking before I’m through: the line “It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” In the past, I’ve heard preachers talk at length about a gate in the city walls of Jerusalem called “Needle’s Eye” which was low to the ground, or very narrow, or impeded in some way. No two preachers are ever sure about what the obstruction in “Needle’s Eye” was. However, they are all absolutely certain that camels could pass through Needle’s Eye, it was just very difficult. Thus, in their view Jesus was saying that, while it was quite difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, it wasn’t impossible.
Bunk. There was no such gate called “Needle’s Eye”. Jesus was talking about a real needle, a real needle’s eye, and a real camel. Make no mistake about it, Jesus is saying that rich people cannot enter the kingdom of God.
Now I’m sure most of you were aware of the Conservative Party conference last week. Champagne was forbidden (although someone slipped a flute of it to David Cameron and a picture was taken...) They did their best to appeal to the common everyday working person, and have probably succeeded in that.
There are rich people in all parties, of course. If they are rich for the sake of it, or revelling in the number of things they have, then the gate of Heaven will be as narrow as a needle’s eye for them.
What Jesus is telling us is this: do not be attached to the things that you possess—in that case, rather than possessing the things, the things possess you. And while anyone or anything possesses you, you are not free to follow Jesus, as God alone should possess you and your being and your soul.
Monks go about following Jesus by ensuring that things do not possess them. When they make their final vows, they sign a legal document granting ownership of all the things that they have at that time to the monastic community. People may witness that little ceremony and say, “That monk is giving away everything he has for the glory of God.” He is not. The monk is freeing the bonds that tied him to the stuff that he accumulated over his lifetime to that point.
Forcing the things that possess that monk to let go of his life means that the monk is free to devote himself to God alone, without worrying about what he needs or what he has. And that rich young man in the Gospel needed to do the same.
The Gospel tells us that after Jesus told him to sell everything, the man went away sad, for he had many possessions. The things that he thought he had, actually tore away from him something that was of immensely greater value: a relationship with Jesus that made them irrelevant. Things come between God and us.
Now Jesus is not saying “Starve to death, do not feed your spouse or children, go around naked, sleep under the stars.” Elsewhere he tells us that we are of greater worth than the lilies of the field, and that our heavenly Father will provide what we need. So we will be OK with the items we require to live.
What he is saying is this: “Do not let food, clothing, housing, money, or any other material thing interpose itself between us and God.” We will have the freedom to worship and adore God alone when we do not worship and adore money and material things. We will be free to hear the needs of other people who share the earth with us when stuff isn’t simultaneously clamouring for our attention.
The author of that book I’m reading tells a little story about two men who were walking down a busy street in Manhattan, New York. As you know, streets are almost always very noisy, with buses, lorries, taxicabs passing up and down making quite a racket.
One of these two men was a naturalist, and suddenly he stopped and asked his companion, “Do you hear that?” The other man stared at him, “Hear what?” said he.”Listen; can’t you hear that cricket?” said the naturalist. The other man said, “I can’t hear anything below a dull roar with all this traffic noise.” The naturalist replied, “You know, we hear what we are trained to hear.”
The naturalist took a coin out of his pocket, and threw it on the sidewalk, where it clinked, rolled around, and finally stopped. Ten passersby stopped and began to hunt for the coin.
Today’s society trains us to hear the siren calls of money and possessions. We might want to stop and get trained up in hearing the call of need all around us. That’s the call that God wants us to hear and respond to—when we do, getting through that needle’s eye gate of Heaven will be much much easier for us all. AMEN."
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: Wisdom 7:7-11; Ps. 89; Hebrews 4:12-13; Mark 10:17-30
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
I am currently reading a book called Monk Habits for Everyday People: Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants. That’s a pretty startling subtitle, as one doesn’t often hear of Evangelical Protestants writing approvingly of anything to do with monks or monastic life.
One of the vows that most monks and nuns make is the vow of poverty. We are all familiar with that vow; many of us might have been poor in the past, are poor, now, or will be poor sometime in the future, perhaps after we retire. The poverty of a monk, however, is different from the common, garden variety of poverty that we know in our lives today.
Why is there a vow of poverty, however? Is being poor, not possessing “things” or “stuff”, intrinsically holier than being well-off or even rich?
The rich man in the Gospel today would not have enjoyed the book I am reading now. While only a small part of it is devoted to monastic poverty, I suspect that were he to read it he’d throw down the book in horror when he got to that chapter.
Jesus tells him to sell all that he has and give it to the poor—only after that can he come and follow Jesus. Why? The Church itself is a relatively rich institution: the Church Commissioners invest around five billion pounds for the good of the Church of England. Many parishes in the Church of England (and other denominations) have considerable financial resources. Does this mean that the Church as a whole cannot follow Jesus while these vast sums are in its possession?
Money and wealth of other kinds is not intrinsically evil. That Biblical quotation that is often thrown at this subject: “Money is the root of all evil.” is, as you may know, misquoted. The entire quotation is “The love of money is the root of all evil.”
One more debunking before I’m through: the line “It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” In the past, I’ve heard preachers talk at length about a gate in the city walls of Jerusalem called “Needle’s Eye” which was low to the ground, or very narrow, or impeded in some way. No two preachers are ever sure about what the obstruction in “Needle’s Eye” was. However, they are all absolutely certain that camels could pass through Needle’s Eye, it was just very difficult. Thus, in their view Jesus was saying that, while it was quite difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, it wasn’t impossible.
Bunk. There was no such gate called “Needle’s Eye”. Jesus was talking about a real needle, a real needle’s eye, and a real camel. Make no mistake about it, Jesus is saying that rich people cannot enter the kingdom of God.
Now I’m sure most of you were aware of the Conservative Party conference last week. Champagne was forbidden (although someone slipped a flute of it to David Cameron and a picture was taken...) They did their best to appeal to the common everyday working person, and have probably succeeded in that.
There are rich people in all parties, of course. If they are rich for the sake of it, or revelling in the number of things they have, then the gate of Heaven will be as narrow as a needle’s eye for them.
What Jesus is telling us is this: do not be attached to the things that you possess—in that case, rather than possessing the things, the things possess you. And while anyone or anything possesses you, you are not free to follow Jesus, as God alone should possess you and your being and your soul.
Monks go about following Jesus by ensuring that things do not possess them. When they make their final vows, they sign a legal document granting ownership of all the things that they have at that time to the monastic community. People may witness that little ceremony and say, “That monk is giving away everything he has for the glory of God.” He is not. The monk is freeing the bonds that tied him to the stuff that he accumulated over his lifetime to that point.
Forcing the things that possess that monk to let go of his life means that the monk is free to devote himself to God alone, without worrying about what he needs or what he has. And that rich young man in the Gospel needed to do the same.
The Gospel tells us that after Jesus told him to sell everything, the man went away sad, for he had many possessions. The things that he thought he had, actually tore away from him something that was of immensely greater value: a relationship with Jesus that made them irrelevant. Things come between God and us.
Now Jesus is not saying “Starve to death, do not feed your spouse or children, go around naked, sleep under the stars.” Elsewhere he tells us that we are of greater worth than the lilies of the field, and that our heavenly Father will provide what we need. So we will be OK with the items we require to live.
What he is saying is this: “Do not let food, clothing, housing, money, or any other material thing interpose itself between us and God.” We will have the freedom to worship and adore God alone when we do not worship and adore money and material things. We will be free to hear the needs of other people who share the earth with us when stuff isn’t simultaneously clamouring for our attention.
The author of that book I’m reading tells a little story about two men who were walking down a busy street in Manhattan, New York. As you know, streets are almost always very noisy, with buses, lorries, taxicabs passing up and down making quite a racket.
One of these two men was a naturalist, and suddenly he stopped and asked his companion, “Do you hear that?” The other man stared at him, “Hear what?” said he.”Listen; can’t you hear that cricket?” said the naturalist. The other man said, “I can’t hear anything below a dull roar with all this traffic noise.” The naturalist replied, “You know, we hear what we are trained to hear.”
The naturalist took a coin out of his pocket, and threw it on the sidewalk, where it clinked, rolled around, and finally stopped. Ten passersby stopped and began to hunt for the coin.
Today’s society trains us to hear the siren calls of money and possessions. We might want to stop and get trained up in hearing the call of need all around us. That’s the call that God wants us to hear and respond to—when we do, getting through that needle’s eye gate of Heaven will be much much easier for us all. AMEN."
