Christopher Thomas
Sermon for Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B, Proper 23 – 10/10/21
Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Psalm 22:1-15
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31
“Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Not murdering, check; no adultery, check; no stealing, check; not bearing false witness, meh; not defrauding folks; honoring the parents, pretty good; showing up for church every few weeks or so; I think I’m even on a committee, but I’m not really sure. I got this! I know I have this. I must have this. Look how God has blessed me!
“Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? I’ve obviously already done it.”
“I want to hear you say it. Please, say the words I want to hear!”
“Why, my son, isn’t it obvious, you have all the markers of success. You drive a great car, you live in a great house. Your 401k is so impressive! You give some to the church, volunteer every now and then. You have done what it takes to inherit eternal life. You will get to keep all of this, and more, forever.”
“…Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come follow me.”
(Silence)
Beads of discomforting perspiration turn to downright sweat, first on his brow, then his spine, as he contemplates the reality of what this might mean, selling everything I own, giving the money to the poor? The treasure stored up in heaven may be incredible, but I have to live here, in this world, at this moment. And in this world, these things, that I have, are the markers of success. These are the markers of security and safety, the things that let me know that I will be all right.
I abide by the law, and God rewards.
I must admit, I understand his dilemma, his reticence, his fear; maybe you do too.
Jesus opens for us the Theology of Stuff.
Our “stuff” tells the intricate and complex story of who we have been, who we are, and who we want to be. If you want me to know you, what do you do? You invite me over for dinner, and you show me your home. In a matter of seconds, I receive all kinds and sorts of visual cues about who you are, where you have been, and where you think you might be going, based solely off of what you have collected in your space, and how you have chosen to collect it.
Our identities are intimately bound up in the things that portray and display who we are.
I learned this myself when I went off to seminary. I packed up every single thing that I owned (which, by the way, at 44 was way too much), moved it into storage, and took only my clothes into furnished housing for three years. For three years, whenever I wanted to tell the story of Christopher Thomas, to anyone, I did not have the luxury of turning to an old photo album, or a piece of furniture, or a cherished memento. The way that I had to express who I had been, who I was, and who I wanted to be, was with words. That is when I learned how “stuff” becomes the identifier of who we are.
What we collect, what we hold on to, what we cherish, what we will pay to store on a shelf in a room we rarely access, what we devote our time, and our talent, and our treasure to, speaks volumes to and about our identity.
And identity is the target Jesus zeros in on in his response to the question, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit the eternal life, the kin-dom of God?”
Eternal life. The kin-dom of God. It’s not what you do, it is who you are. And if in fact, it is who you are, the identifiers of that will be all the many fruits of the spirit – faith, hope, love, charity, mercy, grace. Those will be the things that are the markers of who we, as Christians are. Not what kind of car we drive, or where our house is located, or if we have the largest 401k, or if we got lucky enough to get the first parking space. Can others tell our story, do they know who we are, based on the fruits that are pouring out of our very own spirits?
Do people know you are a Christian by your love?
This Christian thing, this fundamental change in our DNA that occurs when we rise up through the waters of baptism is not just some random club membership, a certificate to hang on a wall, a “one-and-done.” It is a brand new identity that, if it really and truly has caught hold of you, fundamentally changes who you are. This is not the “Prosperity Gospel,” if I do these seven things, God will bless me with a BMW, so I know I did the seven things correctly. They will know I am a Christian because I am fundamentally changed, to the very center of my inner being.
And all of the things around me that speak to that will identify me as such. Faith, hope, love, charity, mercy, grace.
It cannot help but fundamentally reorient how I prioritize my own perceptions of the generosity of God’s abundance, because what I have is from God, of God, entrusted to me, these many gifts of time, talent, and treasure, Every Perfect Gift. God provides these resources as channels of faith, hope, love, charity, mercy, and grace. What am I to do with each of these, God’s gifts of time, talent, and treasure, if I want to be identified as Christian, if I want eternal life, if I want to inherit the kin-dom of God?
“…Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and then come follow me.”
Amen.
