Saturday, October 12, 2024

“What’s In Your Wallet?” A Homily for the Twenty-First Sunday after Pentecost.

 Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, and Good Shepherd, Stayner, 13 October, 2024.

Readings (Yr B Proper 28B):  Job 23:1-9,16-17; Ps 22:1-15; Her 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31 



Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” (Mark 10.23)

The rich man  in today’s gospel reading provoked an interesting discussion in our bible study last Wednesday as we veered from the bible to economics.   One person in our group said that she found it offensive that so much wealth in today’s society was concentrated in the hands of a few.  Another person, a recently retired banker, countered with his strongly held belief that if people had good ideas and worked hard, then they should be rewarded with wealth.  On the other hand, this gentleman did admit that today’s gospel did make him uncomfortable because he felt that Jesus was speaking directly to him.

Well, if today’s gospel made this gentleman uncomfortable, I daresay that he’s in good company.  Retired bankers, folks who rely on wealth managers, or even priests with a flash Audi in the garage may find that today’s gospel hits a nerve.  It’s often said that Jesus has far more to say about what we do with our money than about what we do with our bodies, and for those of us who have both money and a desire to follow Jesus, then we might well be made uncomfortable.   

“You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money[a] to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”  

This text is so challenging and that the temptation for each of us is to defuse it somehow, to redirect it or qualify it. So we might say,  Does this apply to all of us?  Our just to the wealthier among us?  To someone else?  It’s often argued that Jesus is saying this because he sees one specific defect (“you lack one thing”) in an otherwise good and pious man.   After all, the argument goes, Jesus doesn’t require other followers to sell all that they have.   Generally he says things like “Love God with all your heart and soul, and love your neighbour as you love yourself” (Mt 22:34-40).

So you can see how we might sidestep today’s gospel by saying that it only applied to a particular person with an inordinate attachment to his wealth, and surely doesn’t apply to the rest of us, at least not so stringently.  Or we might argue in self defence that scripture is all over the map when it comes to wealth.   Nowhere in the Old Testament does it say that you have to sell all you have.  After all, doesn’t the book of Job end with Job getting twice the possessions he had in the first place? (Job 42:10-17).

You can see how these sorts of appeals to verses in Scripture where Jesus is mercifully absent might absolve our consciences. In fact we could go on to play this game and say, well yes, the first Christians “would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need” (Acts 2.45), but that was because they expected Jesus to return at any moment.   After a few centuries, the church got on with things, which meant acquiring money and property, and without money and property, well, how can the church function?

Phew. We’ve managed to argue our way to a sensible place where wealth has a purpose in the church and we can be comfortable.  But notice how, to get there, we’ve had to distance ourselves from Jesus, and get away from his gaze.

Well, yes, to be sure, money and property can be helpful to our faith lives.  Last week, Joy and I were on retreat at the Ignatius Jesuit Centre near Guelph.  Over five days we spent time in silence and in prayer, we met with spiritual directors, and we learned how to listen carefully and attentively to what Jesus might be saying to us.   We enjoyed the five hundred acres of forest and farmland that the Centre sees itself as called to steward and protect.   At the end of our five days, the Director of the Centre spoke to us all and said, in effect, “I hope that you’ve been blessed by this place and what we’ve offered, but it costs money to do what we do, and if you could help us, we’d be very grateful”.

The Director certainly knew his audience.  After all, most of us had driven to Guelph in privately owned cars.   We all could take a week out of our lives and pay for that time.  We all wanted to draw closer to Jesus in our prayer lives and to appreciate the chance to be in a beautiful part of creation.  And now we were being asked to make this possible for others so they could also come closer to Jesus.  I’m sure I wasn’t the only one on that retreat  who added a small monthly charge to their credit card once I got home.

Now you all know that doing church costs money.  Thus Thanksgiving you got a mailing with the usual envelop for a seasonal gift plus a little envelope to help pay for the new defibrillator.  So you know this, dear saints.   You know that doing church, keeping a place open and functional so it can help others come to Jesus, does cost money. 

My point today is that once you come to Jesus, once you stand in his loving gaze, well that’s different and that’s private.   What happens then is between you and him.  To paraphrase scripture, Jesus knows how attached your heart issues to your treasure.  Spending time with Jesus can loosen your heart’s grip on your treasure, if you are willing to risk spending time with him. 

What happens next is between you and Jesus.

In one of his most powerful parables, the story of the Good Samaritan, there is a very specific mention of money.  When the Samaritan takes the injured man to an inn, he gives the innkeeper two denarii, a sum equivalent to two day’s wages, and then asks him to keep a record of any additional charges, to be paid on the Samaritan’s return (Luke 10.35).    Jesus never tells us if the Samaritan was wealthy and could easily afford this charity, or if he was poor and could ill-afford it.  The important thing, I think, is that he was willing to put his money to work for the kingdom of God.  The Samaritan knew that his money could not save him, and he also knew that his money could help others.   His heart had compassion, because his heart was not tied to his treasure.

This Thanksgiving, it is tempting to be a little complacent and to be grateful for the good things we enjoy.   There’s nothing wrong with gratitude, but can we also be thankful that we have opportunities to put our wealth to use to help those who may have less cause to be thankful?   David Penhale has written a good piece in our most recent newsletter on some of the Primate’s World Relief and Development Fund’s projects, and that may give you some ideas.   Or, if a few dollars is all you can spare, you will certainly find something at Giant Tiger to put in our food pantry.   

Like the rich man in today’s parable, Jesus will meet each one of us on our life’s road.   He will always look at us with love, for guilt isn’t his way.   But his loving gaze can help us see if our hearts are locked away in our wallets, and can free us from that attachment. The encounter with Jesus may make us uncomfortable, but it will help align our hearts, and our spending, more closely with the kingdom of God.



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Mad Padre

Mad Padre
Opinions expressed within are in no way the responsibility of anyone's employers or facilitating agencies and should by rights be taken as nothing more than one person's notional musings, attempted witticisms, and prayerful posturings.

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