The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
There are some days when the sermon jumps out from our lectionary readings and is readily apparent with stories, parables, or teachings from Jesus that are nicely packaged and singularly focused. And then we have days like today where there is a lot going on in this reading from Luke’s gospel and it is seemingly disconnected with Jesus moving from one topic to another, and then to another. If you were to pick up the Bible in the pew in front of you and look at the headings the modern day editors of the text wrote to delineate natural breaks in ideas or subjects, you would notice that the reading from our lectionary picks up at the end of one – leaving out what has come just prior – and then jumps into the next section without skipping a beat.
It would be much easier to digest if this gospel reading started and ended with Jesus’ encouragement and promise: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” That is a nice soundbite, something meme worthy, a saying that would be suitable as a refrigerator magnet. And if we back up in Luke’s gospel a few verses, it is even more inspiring and hope-producing. Jesus had just finished pointing out to the gathered crowd how God cares for the flowers of the field, the birds of the air, and the grass of the meadows. Do not fear, therefore – do not worry – because God knows what you need and God will provide for you, just as God does for the whole of God’s creation. Instead, of worrying, Jesus tells us, seek God’s kingdom and you’ll find the fullness of life.
It is at this point, though, that Jesus revisits the theme from our gospel last week and the story of the rich fool who had more than he could ever want or need and, with his abundance, decided to pack it all away for himself. But it turned out, at the end of his life, he couldn’t take any of it with him. Today, Jesus takes this theme a step further with an instruction likely found on very few refrigerator magnets or inspirational bible verse calendars: “Sell your possessions and give alms.” All that we have in this life is temporary and fleeting, so focus instead on what lasts. Seek God and God’s kingdom. Spend your time and your energy on the treasure you will find in the life to come, Jesus seems to be telling us, rather than accumulating wealth and possessions in the here and now.
These two themes – living without fear in confidence of God’s provision and, because of that confidence, the courage to let go of all we tend to hold onto to buy security and certainty in this life – have some continuity and we can draw the thread through them. But Jesus then speaks of God’s coming kingdom and his eventual return with two images that seem to completely change the topic. In the first, servants of a wealthy homeowner wait for the master to return from a party. They stay awake, they keep the lights on, they are attentive so as to be ready for the master’s return at any moment and can welcome him home. As a reward for their vigilance and preparation, they are treated to a feast of their own, to their surprise, served to them by the master.
In the second image, Jesus likens his return to a thief breaking into a house.
So be attentive, we’re told, be on guard, be ready because it could happen at any moment and we don’t want to be caught unprepared.
What strikes me about the first half of the gospel we have before us today – not worrying and living our lives unencumbered by the chains of wealth and possessions – and the second half – vigilance, preparation, and being ever ready for Jesus return – is that those instructions from Jesus can easily seem opposed to one another. I’m curious how we’re supposed to connect the image of Jesus as a thief breaking to our house with the first words, “Do not be afraid.” That image seems to be more fear and anxiety producing than anything else.
I was raised in a Christian tradition and with theology that was heavily focused on striving for assurance that I was “saved,” and that, when I died or Jesus returned, I would be counted among those who found themselves in heaven. The life that we live in the here and now on earth is just transitory…something to be endured as we wait for the reward that is to come.
And that is one way we can read and hear Jesus words before us today: What truly matters is your heavenly treasure, not the things of this world. So, look to the life and the world to come. Spend this life waiting and preparing. Hold on long enough until Jesus’ return with confidence of where you will spend eternity. And while you’re waiting, make certain that you are ready and Jesus will find your life ordered. That theology is oftentimes more anxiety producing than it is hope-filled. And In that vein of thinking, in that reading of what we have before us today, it is easy to conclude that Jesus is calling us out of this world rather than inviting us to live more fully in it. But that is not the God I have come to know and trust. That is not the Jesus I have come to follow.
I wonder if the line we can draw between all the various things Jesus touches on in our gospel today is this: Live as though God’s kingdom is already here…because it is. That is the hope and promise of our faith as much as the kingdom is some future reality. And that is also the paradox of our faith: God’s kingdom has come, just as much as it is coming. I am not a Greek scholar, but here is the interesting thing about the way Jesus’ statement that it is “God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” was originally written: the verb Jesus uses is that of a completed action. The kingdom has already been given and it is still being given. It is certain. It is a present reality. Our place in God’s kingdom is not something to be earned, not something in which we may find our lives. We can find God’s kingdom in our midst right here and right now.
Jesus is assuring us of the present, pointing us to the future, and inviting us to order our lives to the ways of God’s kingdom so we may experience the fullness of life and God’s kingdom in this life and in the life to come.
Admittedly, that is easier said than done. There is much in our world that is fear, worry, and anxiety producing. Fear is a natural human response when faced with threats to safety, security, or provision. Fear is a natural response to uncertainty and the instability of the world. Fear is warranted when families are faced with arrest and deportation. Fear is real for those whose basic human rights are at stake based on how they look or who they love or how they have come to know themselves as created in the diverse image of God. Fear is to be expected when financial uncertainty looms and the order and stability that has undergirded the world economy for decades is overturned. It is easier talk about heavenly treasures if you’re not worried about your mortgage or if you’re not sleeping on the streets.
Jesus isn’t dismissing these realities in telling us not to be afraid. Rather, he is pointing us to the reality that is, at times, less apparent: God’s kingdom already among us. God’s dreams for the world are already coming alive in our midst. Wholeness and hope are growing amidst brokenness and despair. With all that was, is, and will be wrong with our world, all that is fear-inducing, we have a choice: be self-focused with lives lived in self-preservation or be other-focused in confidence of God’s care.
You see, the ways in which we order our lives allows us to notice, see, and experience more or less of God’s kingdom in the here and now. When we live lives of generosity rather than accumulation, lives of service rather than self-preservation, the kingdom of God grows ever more fully both in our lives and in the life of the world. Jesus’ instructions to the gathered crowds were not simply spiritual in nature, but rather had real and economic impacts. Sell your possessions, he told them. Have faith, yes, but don’t stop at faith…make it tangible, put your money where your mouth is.
I wonder where you, or I, or we might see God’s kingdom come and still coming around us. In the serving of a hot meal morning after morning at Edible Hope? In the building of affordable housing that bears the name of this church? In a vision for the future of St. Luke’s that is willing to let go of what has been in order to be a church of service to this community for years to come? In care for immigrants? In being a place of community and affirmation for children of God of all genders, orientations, and identities? I wonder, too, how we might be even more alert to the ways God’s kingdom is yet to come so we might be even more faithful participants in its coming.
Perhaps it begins when we feel the tinge of fear that is a perfectly natural response to many of the things we encounter in this life. When fear arises within us, it is easy to tighten our grip on that which seems to bring us security and certainty. But perhaps fear can also be a nudge to open our eyes, name the source of the fear, and then choose a different way. Trusting in God and God’s kingdom – one of plenty, one of kindness, one of wholeness, and one of grace – we can let go of fear and play our part in God’s kingdom coming even more fully.
The attentiveness to which Jesus calls us as we wait for his return, our being on guard and preparing, is not a passive, pious, or only prayerful thing. It is an active, rather than anxious waiting. The great preacher, Frederick Buechner, says, “To wait for Christ to come in his fullness is above all else to act in Christ’s stead as fully as we know how.”
Fear not, my sisters and brothers, because God’s kingdom is in our midst. It is God’s good pleasure for you and all of creation to experience the fullness of life for which you were created. So let us tend to the things that are most true and permanent: generosity, service to and care for others, working for peace and wholeness, standing up to injustice, caring for God’s created world. And in doing so, we just may find that both we and our world are prepared for the day in which God’s kingdom is complete at the return of Jesus.
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