Three texts, three versions of the tension between faithfulness and wealth. While the message is clear, it can be uncomfortable if we REALLY take them in.
We remember that the authors and the people at the heart of these texts were- by and large – people and communities on the outs of social and imperial power; unable to access the wealth of their day. As they question how one can be both faithful and wealthy, they reveal a deep conviction that God always preferences the poor over the wealthy. These truths are never easy to absorb, nor should they be.
It is also important that we ask where we fit in the parable.
It is tempting for us to point fingers at the protagonist in the gospel story – the rich man. It is tempting to distance ourselves from his arrogance and later his panic.
And yet, most of us are more like the rich man in purple linen than the poor man Lazarus. Unlike Lazarus, we are among the educated, we are used to some measure of status and power, and we are among the world’s wealthiest.
How would the authors place people such as us in their story? Where would they locate us?
For me, and maybe for you, the beauty and the challenge of following Christ has always included a version of Timothy’s call, “to set our hopes not on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on (the One) who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.” It is always there, if we but listen.
I felt this tension as a teenager first coming to faith in suburban Minneapolis. It compelled me to move to and work in the inner city church that shaped my faith for several years. But I was still one of the privileged.
I knew it to be true even in those years when our family lived paycheck to paycheck. Even with our very real financial struggles, we had opportunities and resources that were still way beyond the reach of most of the world.
I know it to be true today as I face retirement, able to do so on my terms and with little concern for my day to day living.
In the gospel story, after the rich man asks Abraham to please come back and warn his 5 siblings so that they will avoid his torment, Abraham suggests “if they won’t listen to Moses and the prophets, they won’t listen to someone coming back from the dead.”
The rich man is trying to undo a life of ‘not listening’ but the Abraham in this fanciful, post mortem parable isn’t having any of it. You made your choice long ago.
And so the story begs the question: To whom do we listen? On issues of most importance, on questions at the core of our life and our faith – to whom do we listen?
How is the conversation in which our faith is being developed actually shaped? What voices guide and teach us? Especially when it comes to our money, our resources, and our time?
Abraham seems to be saying, ‘pay attention to the company you keep, the counsel you heed, and the voices that guide you.’
Years ago, Tammy and I had the opportunity to visit with members of the Iona Community. The Community of Iona supports the famous island retreat center, but entails so much more. In fact, the 280 members of the community commit to a 5 fold rule (as in a Benedictine rule). Notably, one of them is about money. It calls them to “support one another in prayer and by meeting, communicating and accounting with one another for the use of our gifts, money, time and and the earth’s resources.”
Sitting outdoors in a lovely park, we asked a small group of Iona members, “Isn’t it hard or awkward to have to be accountable to others around how you spend money?” To literally sit in a circle with last month’s check register or bank statement?’ With a sly grin and gentle knock on American individualism, one man responded, ‘No. It is freeing, affirming, and encouraging. As we share and discuss our financial decisions, we don’t feel so alone in facing these important questions at the heart of our faith.’
Their shared rule was designed to help them stay true to their desire to listen to the gospel and to wrestle with its meaning for their lives and their time. They understood that wealth can be deceptive, disorienting, and can cause us to lose perspective and honesty about the world in which we live.
Centuries ago, Amos proclaimed…Alas for those who are at ease in Zion…Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock…and calves from the stall; who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp, …who drink wine from bowls, and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!
Much of our world was transfixed by the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II this week. Her funeral was an uninterrupted TV affair for most of Monday morning in the US. Our house, including two out of town friends, was transfixed. I certainly was. I suspect there are many reasons for this – including the power of pageantry. Indeed, one friend commented on FB while it was happening, The Brits get to plan the eschatological celebration at the close of history. I Call.
But, of course, there were other perspectives. Another colleague, African American pastor Jacqui Lewis, Senior Pastor of Middle Church in New York City posted two pictures – One of the Queen and one of Hurricane Fiona in Puerto Rico alongside – each other on her Instagram post with the caption: A distorted moral landscape is every tv channel prioritizing a queen’s funeral over hundreds of thousands of neighbors without water or power. The power of colonialism, even in death. Attention bias is one of white supremacy’s most potent weapons.
I appreciated her challenge, her willingness to name the underside of an otherwise glorious event. I know we could debate the question with many perspectives…but she invites another important question that also arises from our texts.
How do we keep God’s call to center the poor active and alive in our hearts and actions?
I was brought back to a comment I had read 30 -35 years earlier by Jim Wallis, founder of the Sojourners Community in Washington DC. He noted that he had chosen to live among the poor in DC, not because he had something to offer, and not even because he thought all middle class people should do the same. He made the choice, he said, because it was for him a spiritual discipline to live among and listen to the poor. He was raising the need for all of us – especially the wealthy – to have a spiritual practice that helps us listen to and honor the voice and the experience of the poor.
Luke’s gospel seems to be saying, figure this out today. Don’t wait.
That’s the challenge and the call. It’s not easy. We need each other. We bumble our way, trying hard to listen anew.
I’ll be honest, when I first read these assigned texts for today, my heart sank a bit, because I never feel a sense of resolution when it comes to the question of wealth and faith.
But, the more I sit with life, the texts and in prayer – the more I am convinced that these are all good things – these tensions, hard to answer questions, parables with fanciful but powerful messages. All of these are tools of the prophetic voice of our Scripture. Might that we stay engaged, stay curious, welcome the discomfort and in so doing, consider yet again what it means to follow the one whose path preferences the poor, the outcast, the fringe and the unwanted peoples in our midst.