conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

simplicity: don't forget to share

Here's the sermon for tomorrow. Lemme know what you think!

This is for those who are preaching the lectionary this Sunday.

Sermon – Simplicity: Don’t Forget to Share
September 23, 2007
Community Church of Wilmette
Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Luke 12:13-21

Simplicity: Don’t Forget to Share

“Simplicity” says Richard Foster “is an inward and outward discipline.”

Last week we focused on the inward nature of the discipline of Simplicity. We attempted a contemplative exercise and I spoke about the importance of prayer, contemplation, and an uncluttered heart. Our hearts should be focused upon God…have room for God. This is how we have simple hearts.

This week I want to look at the outward nature of the discipline. More than most Christian disciplines, simplicity manifests itself in the world.

My imagination always turns to the Amish or the Shakers when I think about simplicity. I like the furniture. The Amish don’t use zippers…not to mention electricity and the public school system. Simplicity becomes almost exotic when I think about the Amish and the Shakers.

There is a temptation for me here. These communities are the bearers of the Simplicity standard. The temptation is to leave the discipline to them. I don’t have to be simple because they are doing it enough for everyone.

Plus, aren’t they just a little strange? There’s a social stigma to simplicity when we encounter such an extreme example of it. And it’s not just the Amish. I think of people who have money but drive run down cars as eccentric. You have the money. Get a car that works! People who don’t spend money or intentionally live lives that manifest a chosen poverty are just strange. They just don’t fit in. We are supposed to save, invest, collect, and purchase.

Solidarity, we believe, is expressed by what we purchase. I remember in the 1980’s an ad campaign for clothing about racial reconciliation: The united colors of Benetton. “Buy our clothes and end racism.” Well, that’s what they seemed to say. They were more savvy than to just come out with it like that. But I got the message.

After the attacks of 9-11 we were advised to give our slumping market economy a boost by going out and buying something. Buy a car. Be a patriot. Purchasing power is a virtue in our culture. The poor know this. The rich know this. What we have defines us. What we have in our possession sets us free. Our ability to possess things is a sign of our freedom, our liberty, and our political power. And the more we possess, the freer we become.

Such thinking muddles my mind. I just get so confused.

It’s as if the entire philosophy of ownership in this country was written by the punk band Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. And as I ponder what simplicity might look like I become stymied by these notions.

I so badly want to be the right kind of person and own a Mac. I just do. Mac owners are just, I don’t know, they possess a certain unidentifiable quality. So Trish and I have a Mac computer and the i-Pod Nano that comes with it. And don’t we just radiate that something special, now? I know we do! I feel it in my bones.

Save.
Invest.
Collect.
Purchase.

In our Gospel reading this morning we encounter a curious parable. This passage appears in Luke’s Gospel as a prelude to the sermon about “worrying for our life.” This farmer is saving. He is apparently wise. He’s hoping to put something away for a rainy day. How many times did my grandmother tell me to do just that as a child? Countless!

And yet, here is Jesus warning against such wisdom.

But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things which you have prepared, whose will they be?”

We gain. We reap. We harvest. We collect. We purchase. We save. It’s as if all we do is build barns and horde things in them. Jesus is trying to tell us something about God here in this parable. And don’t think that this is just about the rich. Try not to go down that road. You see this is everyone’s issue. The wealthy don’t carry this burden alone. Affluence is everyone’s problem.

The Rev’d. Ben Campbell, an Episcopal priest and the Spiritual Director at Richmond Hill, reminds us that the problem of affluence is not in the having of things…it is in the fear of losing the things we have. And we all, rich, poor, or middle class suffer from this fear. We all suffer from this trouble with affluence. We are afraid to lose what we have gained…our stuff, our status and clout, our opportunities. And we hold on to them tightly. We hold on to them at times to the detriment of our health and sanity…and neglect our neighbor in the process. The love of neighbor falls to the wayside when we embrace such fear.

We tear down barns only to build bigger ones. We call it progress or wealth management…or any number of things.

And maybe God speaks to us, too. This is what Jesus seems to be saying. “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions…” God has something to say against it. “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

These things belong to God. They belong to those in need. They do not belong to us. We cannot horde them away thinking that they belong to us…no matter what it is. Yes, God wants us to be happy and enjoy creation. God said that it was good and God meant it. This too is true. But our enjoyment of the created order including our own gifts and skills cannot be to the detriment of our neighbors.

Competition is not the rule. Competition is a sign of greed. It is one kind of greed. And we must be wary of it. This is how the early church interpreted such passages as this one from Luke.

So they gathered together in common life. They liquidated their assets, selling all they had, and gave to one another as needs arose. They had wealth in this sharing. They tried to live in this way so that none would suffer. They “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” Their economic life, their spiritual life, their worship life were all interconnected. It was a seamless garment. At least that is how they understood their call.

“All who believed were together and had all things in common.”

Richard Foster offers several suggestions of how this might begin to look for us. He’s hesitant to slip into legalism like the Amish or Shakers can do. But he recognizes that the need for simplicity is central to who we are and how we learn to love one another. It’s even worth the risk of legalism.

Here are his ten suggestions. They are in no particular order. And he goes in to greater detail in his book. We have a copy in our church library. Check it out sometime.

1. Buy things for their usefulness rather than their status. Consider your clothes.
2. Reject anything that is producing an addiction in you. Internet anyone? I am powerless. I admit it.
3. Develop a habit of giving things away. De-accumulate.
4. Refuse to be propagandized by custodians of modern gadgetry. Lord God help me.
5. Learn to enjoy things without owning them. I just got my first public library card last week. Change comes incrementally, sisters and brothers.
6. Develop a deeper appreciation for creation. “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.” (Ps. 24:1)
7. Look with healthy skepticism at all “buy now, pay later” schemes. Jesus says to “lend, expecting nothing in return.” (Luke 6:35) Is this the logical flipside?
8. Obey Jesus’ instructions about plain and honest speech. This is not an excuse for cruelty, but an invitation to loving candor.
9. Reject anything that will breed the oppression of others. Love your neighbor as yourself.
10. Shun whatever would distract you from your main goal. Love the Lord.

In a country where Social Security may well have run its course as a federal program, it is imperative that the Church reacquaints itself with the discipline of simplicity and the awareness of one another that the discipline encourages. Social Security did not exist a century ago. And it may not exist when I retire. Likely something will take its place, but as someone staring down that particular political quandary, I am assuming I will work until I am physically unable to do so.

A friend of mine said recently that her parents don’t understand why she works as an artist when she could have a “good job with benefits.” Work is not about joy. It is about security. Her response to them was not “I don’t want to be corrupted by the system” as her parents may have expected. Her response was “Well, I’m going to have to work for my entire life anyway. I may as well do something I enjoy.”

I’ll admit that this is perhaps a little extreme. But I certainly relate to it. My grandfather served a pulpit until he was eighty years old. Yes, he loved the ministry. But he also could not have retired. The nature of the vocation for his generation would not allow for it. It is still an uncommon thing today. This is why the “Retired Ministers and Missionary’s Offering” still exists in American Baptist life. And I am getting a somewhat later start than many. I too am glad that I enjoy what I do because I may be doing it well into my so-called retirement years.

These examples I raise are not guidelines or even suggestions for how to deal with the crisis of Social Security. But they do underscore that people are beginning to make decisions independent of systems that are ephemeral to begin with. And maybe these decisions can be the beginning of putting our trust in God and not in things that do not last.

It’s a tangled and complicated set of issues. And we need to be taking action.

We need to be exploring ways of life that exhibit simplicity. The need is real. Such exploration may be exactly how the Church should be dealing with issues like Social Security, health care, the growing gap between the wealthy and the rest of America, between America and the rest of the world.

We need to be simple. We need to share.

We must always remember that God is with us in this, upholding us in our work together, and blessing it. God’s expectations are real. And they are high.

Be simple…Don’t forget to share.

Amen.

Posted by tripp at September 22, 2007 12:15 PM