Sermon preached by the Reverend John E. Kitagawa at the Celebration of the Holy Eucharist on 11 October 2009 (Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost) at St. Philip’s In The Hills Parish, Tucson, Arizona

A CALL TO BLESSEDNESS

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

Several years ago, Kathy and I went to Alaska for summer vacation. Friends Kit and Joan kindly allowed us to use their log cabin for a few days. Along with directions to the cabin, there were directions to find the outhouse, to turn on the propane, to light the pot-belly stove, and to pump water from the well. When we got to the cabin, one of the first chores was to pump water from the well. Kit’s step by step directions included where to find the large container and a small glass jar. The instructions read something like, “pump water into glass jar until water is clear.” Initially, there was quite a bit of silt, so I kept pumping. I stopped to check; there was less silt. So, I pumped some more, still some silt. I pumped left-handed, still some silt. I pumped right handed again, still some silt. Kathy took her turn right handed and left-handed, and still there was a little silt at the bottom of the glass jar. Then, it started to rain. Each of us took another turn. Finally, we decided—“it’s clear enough!” Later, when we returned the keys, I recounted how hard we had worked to get clear water in the glass jar. Amused, Kit asked, “John, when did you become a literalist?”

As you know, many people read the Bible quite literally. To them, the sayings of Jesus are to be followed absolutely, and implemented immediately. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says:

You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me (Mark 10: 21).

In his sermon last week, Blake[1] talked about St. Francis of Assisi giving away everything to benefit the poor, and how he dedicated his life in service to the poor. Another example would be fourth century Egyptian Christians who took Scripture quite literally and acted accordingly. They gave away everything, except the cloths on their backs, and sufficient food and drink for a day at a time. They devoted themselves to the study of Scripture, prayer, meditation and repentance.

Some literalists read today’s Gospel and conclude that Jesus set the bar unreasonably high. As a result, they behave as if Jesus did not really say such things, or as if he really did not mean what he said. Hard sayings sometimes become handy excuses to blow off aspects of the faith. Difficult Biblical passages are sometimes convenient “insurmountable” obstacles to delving more deeply into what Jesus was trying to convey. So, if you think you have to emulate early Egyptian ascetics or St. Francis, or if passages like today’s Gospel turn you off or away, permit me to quote my friend, Kit, “When did you become a literalist?”

What are we to do if we do not want to completely disregard, demean or discount this or any other difficult Biblical passage? We begin by placing the text into its proper historical and cultural context. For example, we have to realize the disciples and their contemporaries would have viewed wealth as a sign of God’s blessing—a concept that remains, at least subtly, alive and well in our times. To be sure, there are many places in Scripture approving of wealth, and where riches are “gift and blessing”. But, as with all gifts and blessings, Biblical tradition says wealth is to be used for God’s purposes, one of which is to respond to and meet the needs of the poor and oppressed[1].

Secondly, we have to remember the context of Mark’s story. The saying, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” is Jesus’ response to a specific question by a particular person—the rich young man. Please note that Mark first tells us,

“Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, you lack one thing …” (Mark 10: 21).

Underscoring a previous point, please note that Jesus does not condemn the young man’s wealth.

His worldly goods were not sinful, but they were problematic for him[2].

Remember the rich young man knew God’s law, could quote God’s law, and we have no reason to believe he did not do his best to abide by God’s law. What Jesus perceived was the obstacle of the young man’s possessions to a deeper relationship with God. Jesus discerned the young man’s enslavement to his wealth, which restricted his ability to devote himself to following Jesus. So, this story is not a lesson about wealth per se. It is about a man’s selfish relationship with possessions, and how this dynamic stunts his spiritual growth and sours his relationship with God in Christ.

If we think of wisdom as the ability to live life skillfully, and if we think about the idea of living a godly life in an ungodly world[3], then what Jesus says here in the Gospel of Mark becomes more nuanced and complex; and we must exercise our powers of discernment. In order to live a skillful and godly life, we must evaluate our core values, allegiances and how we make decisions. Consider these in the light of Jesus’ fundamental call to serve God and God’s people rather being self-serving. Second, starting with the very gift of life, we must reflect on the many gifts and blessings God bestows on us and ask how we use or fail to use these gifts for God’s purposes and Christ’s healing and reconciling work in the world. Unlike the decisions of the early ascetics and St. Francis to sell everything, our skilful living, our faithful and godly living are essentially stewardship exercises—prioritizing, giving and putting to work our time, talent and treasure for God’s purposes in service to God’s people.

A contemporary version of Jesus’ challenge to the young man can be found in a 2000 General Convention[4] resolution (A-106), which has been reaffirmed by subsequent General Conventions. It reads,

We believe … We are the children of God, and we need to give. In every aspect of our lives we are entrusted to be stewards of God’s creation. God invites us to give freely and to exercise joyfully our gifts through mission and ministry.

We commit ourselves … To boldly claim God’s abundant provision in our lives; to offer extravagantly our time, talent, and money to do God’s work; and to practice tithing as a minimum standard of giving.

We challenge members of the Episcopal Church… To confront our fears of scarcity; to embrace a new vision of stewardship through a joyful response to God’s extravagant gifts; and to empower the mission of Christ through generous giving; and be it further

Resolved, That we, the Deputies and Bishops of this Convention, give thanks to God for those who embrace tithing as a faithful individual response to the grace of God …

I have signed on to this statement because I see in it wisdom for skillful living in an ungodly world. The discipline and practice of the tithe is the minimum standard for Kathy and my giving. I commend this practice to you as a spiritual practice and discipline, not as a financial or economic decision. As with all spiritual practices and disciplines, tithing is not usually accomplished all at once, but grows, develops and matures over time.

Referring back to our Gospel Story, I found this helpful commentary on the conversation:

… the invitation of Jesus to the wealthy man was not the call to become a galley slave for the Kingdom, but a call to blessedness[5].

This is a parable about Christ’s invitation and call to blessedness, which leads to deep questions. First, is something making you hard of hearing or deaf to God’s call to blessedness? What restricts your capacity to affirmatively and joyfully respond to Jesus’ call to blessedness? Or, what keeps you in bondage, and thus stands in the way of making a commitment to Jesus Christ that sets the priorities for the way you live and move and have your being?

I have always imagined Jesus to be very sad that the young man did not become a follower. I have struggled to understand the young man’s sadness (Mark 10: 22). Meditating on his sadness, I have come to believe he sensed the potential healing power of Jesus’ love, and hungered for it. I believe he understood the wisdom of Jesus’ challenge, and in that wisdom, at least intuited Christ’s call to blessedness. I believe he longed to accept that call and vocation. But, in the end, he could not free himself from his bondage to his possessions, and therefore walked away broken-hearted about unfulfilled possibilities.

There is no need for sadness. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you so much that he offers you a pathway for skillful living in an ungodly world. You do not have to be literalists. It is not an all or nothing, black and white, or even a ten percent game. Jesus asks us to commit to letting go of whatever encumbers our lives, deprives us of the fruits of a deepening relationship with God, and curtails our capacity to serve God and God’s people. Jesus’ challenge is not easy, but is it not worth the struggle in order to accept Jesus’ call to blessedness?

AMEN.

[1] The Rev. Blake R. Hutson, Assistant to the Rector.