11th Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 13

July 31, 2016

Church of the Good Shepherd, Pawtucket, RI

Eccl. 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23

Psalm 49:1-11

Col. 3:1-11

Luke 12:13-21

“One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

“That’s the whole meaning of life, isn’t it? Trying to find a place for your stuff?” -George Carlin

It’s not often that one can quote the late great comic George Carlin in church, but one of my favorite routines of his is the one about stuff. Carlin quips, “That’s what a house is: a place to keep all your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. That’s all your house is: a pile of stuff with a cover on it. . . That’s the whole meaning of life. To find a place for your stuff.” Carlin goes on and on in this absurd routine about needing a car to move your stuff, and needing suitcases to take your stuff on trips and bring back more stuff. When you have so much stuff it doesn’t fit in your house, you get a bigger house and a storage unit, and then you notice that there’s empty space, so you go get more stuff. You can easily find the routine on YouTube, and you’ll hear the audience roaring with laughter, not because it’s absurd, but because we’ve all been there. We’re all captive to our stuff.

I’ve been asking myself a lot lately about why I need so much stuff. Unlike the rich man in the parable Jesus tells us today, I am unable to build a larger barn. As I prepare for my move to begin studies at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, TX next week, all I have is what will fit in my car. Once my little Nissan is full, I can’t add on a U-Haul or a magic Mary Poppins bag that holds all my lamps and mirrors and worldly possessions. With every item I need to get rid of, I find myself in a state of anxiety about how I might need it. Notice the key word there: I might need it. One of the items I spent a good half hour looking over was a spice rack. I’m not talking about a beautiful piece of furniture or a gift made for me by a cousin in shop class. I’m talking about a plastic thing I ordered online years ago to hold my spices that has been sitting in the basement of a friend’s house for the past year and a half. I clearly have lived without it for long enough that I have proven that I don’t need it. Yet I ask, what if I might need it.

It’s a model of scarcity. Of course I can always get another spice rack, or--big shocker--just put my spices in a cabinet without a rack. Yet we are told over and over by commercials and society that there is such scarcity. Buy now! Limited time only! Items are flying off the shelf! Run, don’t walk!

The scarcity model, however, is one built on fear. Fear of not having enough or being enough. Jesus, however, comes to tell us of a God that works not out of fear and scarcity, but out of love and abundance.

In today’s Parable, a rich man has such abundance of his crop that it will not fit in his barn. Realizing that it will not fit, the man pulls down his barn to build larger barns so that he can store up his wealth and live out his days without worry or toil. God, however, calls the man a fool because God knows that that very night the rich man will die and his stores will be in vain. “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.”

I have to admit that at a first read, I didn’t really see anything wrong with what the man in the parable did. He worked very hard to obtain his crops and decided to store them in order to have abundance in his life. Isn’t that the American dream? We work hard, earn money, invest it wisely in a retirement fund, and we all dream of retiring at 40 so we can lie on the beach and have a cabana boy bring us pina coladas. Sounds amazing, right? And why not? I mean, don’t those who work hard deserve their reward?

If you take a closer look at this story, however, one key detail stands out to me: The man in the story never consults or speaks about anyone but himself. He never asks God for guidance. He never talks to his spouse or friends. He never even thinks about anyone but himself. It’s a short enough parable that I want to actually read it to you again. Take note of all the reflexive verbs and all the self-referential language.

“The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17 And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18 Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19 And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20

My favorite line in there is when the man says, “And I will say to my soul, Soul. . .” It’s such a jarring phrase and so unnatural, and I think that Luke meant for it to read that way. “And I said to myself, self, you gotta write this sermon before Sunday!” It’s an absurd way to talk, and it’s completely inward looking.

Turning to our Old Testament lesson, the teacher in Ecclesiastes says that all of life is vanity, or to put it another way, all of life is meaningless. We work and we work and then we die. We store up our goods, and then, to quote the old adage, you can’t take it with you. Even when you die, all that you’ve toiled for is left to those who didn’t work to earn it.

Eek! That is a rather bleak look at life, but I don’t think the teacher is far from wrong. Notice, again, that the language is all about the individual.

• I hated my toil
• I had toiled under the sun
• For all [my] days are full of pain and [my] work is a vexation

Even though there is a communal sense that we all suffer these toils, the focus is on the outcome for individuals.

I find it troublesome concerning this passage from Ecclesiastes that the lectionary cuts the reading off before the very next line:

There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God; 25 for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment? 26 For to the one who pleases him God gives wisdom and knowledge and joy

But wait! Isn’t that exactly what Jesus tells us not to do in the parable of the foolish rich man? The rich man says he will eat, drink, and be merry, and God calls him a fool. The teacher says he will eat, drink, and be merry, and that is the best thing for mortals and a gift from god!

Both our Old Testament and Gospel texts tell a similar story of work and toil that cannot bring fulfillment to our lives. Both speak of storing up riches that we do not get to keep for ourselves once we die. There is a key difference, though, if we add in the text the lectionary leaves out: while the foolish rich man in Jesus’ parable works only for himself that he may eat, drink, and be merry, the teacher says that we should seek to eat, drink, and be merry in relationship with God. “Apart from [God] who can eat or have enjoyment?”

All of Christianity is founded upon relationship. Even the very triune nature of God as three in one is relational. When Jesus gives the summary of the law--the summary of everything we should do to please God--he says that we are to love God and to love one another. Love, the ultimate relationship, should define everything we do.

I think the parable of the Foolish Rich Man has two major messages for us. First, we are not to store up our wealth for ourselves, even if we earned it all ourselves. It’s a selfish mantra that I hear repeated over and over again--especially in this political season. Why should I have to give my hard-earned money to those that don’t deserve it. Why should I toil so others can prosper. Because Jesus said so. That’s why. Because the God of love calls us to love one another and care for one another. I pay my city taxes so that when your house catches on fire there is a fire department to put it out. I give ten percent of my earnings to the church in order that others may know the love of God I have come to know through this church. I feed the hungry because God has given me so much more than I need to survive.

The second message I think we hear from Jesus’ parable, as well as from Ecclesiastes, is that God does want us to be happy. God does want us to eat, drink, and be merry. That may not be clear on the first reading of the parable since God calls the man foolish for seeking a life of ease, but I think the foolishness of the man comes from his isolation in his merry making.

I happen to be an extreme extrovert, so I might be biased here, but I completely understand that good times only happen when they happen with others. Don’t get me wrong here, I can absolutely relish my alone time sitting by the lake with a good book, but that time grows so much sweeter when I have someone to share it with.

Many of you know that I work with youth at the Episcopal Conference Center as the chaplain for this summer’s camps. The teenagers I work alongside there are amazing human beings with so much love to offer this world. They also are teenagers, and like me when I was a teenager, they sometimes make stupid mistakes. I was talking with a group of them about what it means to have a good time. Going to a wild party with lots of drinking may seem fun at the time, but destructive behavior hurts those around us. An old hazing ritual may seem like fun at the time, but at another person’s expense. I am so proud to say that I see my teenage colleagues engaging in activities that, more often than not, enrich the lives of others. When they play games with children from broken homes and share a love those children may not know at home, they not only have a good time themselves, but they make sure others have a good time. When they sing and dance in a talent show alongside an adult with Down syndrome, they are having a blast singing and dancing and they are showing God’s love to that person who cannot completely care for themselves.

Our message today is a far cry from the false prophets of politics who proclaim from their podiums that hard-working Americans deserve to reap the benefits of their hard work while those lazy poor continue to mooch of our labors. Jesus says to us that we are all to work hard in order to share the abundance of our labors. We will find joy when we take the fruits of our labors and share them with those who are not as fortunate. Rather than foolishly trying to cling to that which is not ours, Jesus invites us to spread our wealth which, in turn, will spread our joy.

You see, nothing we posses actually belongs to us. All that we have is a gift from God and we are to use those gifts to further God’s kingdom. In many churches, as the offerings of our money, the bread, and the wine are placed on the table, the priest will quote the first book of Chronicles and say, “All good things come of thee, o Lord,” and the people respond, “and of thine own have we given thee.” It’s a nice reminder that everything we offer to God and to one another is actually not ours to give. It is God’s. God has called us to be stewards of this creation and of one another. Many of us have the gifts of business savvy and investment, and while I don’t think God wants us to give away our wealth to the point of our own detriment, God does want us to share our abundance.

I do not need the spice rack, so I took it to Goodwill. I do not need my piles and piles of clothes, so I donated them to Dorcas International to give to refugees who need business clothes for job interviews. Those are only surface level examples of living into God’s call. I admit that I often act like the foolish rich man. I fear that if I give my tithe I won’t have enough money for myself. I fear that if I volunteer my time to help the poor I won’t have enough time for myself. These fears, though, are unfounded. God has given us the time we have not just for ourselves, but for us. For the human family. The family of God.

Fear and scarcity exist all around us. I find myself crippled by it all the time, and I don’t want to make light of the fact that many of us here in this church has legitimate fears about how we will make ends meet. In the parable Jesus offers us today, I think the lesson that we take away is that we are not alone. God loves us and commands us to love others. If we only would take the things each of us have in abundance and share them with the world, the entire world would know abundance. The entire world would know the love of God. The entire world would know peace.

I charge you, and myself, to look for those places in our lives where we have abundance and to share those with others. Whether it is our money, our time, our gifts of hospitality or prayer or laughter. Where has God blessed you, and how can you bless others.

Every night at camp we end our day by giving thanks to God for our abundance in a service of Compline. It’s a sweet way to remind ourselves of the gifts God has so freely bestowed upon us, and to offer those gifts back to God. At the close of the service we sing a simple song that sticks with me throughout the year. I offer the words of that song as a closing prayer hope that they will convey to you the love I have felt:

Oh what a lovely thing

If the children of the earth

Would live together

In a world of peace.

Amen

Teen Camp and Peace

I haven't yet written anything for last week's Teen Camp, because I'm not really sure where to focus. It was a hard week of violence in our country, and during that time, I was at ECC with a group of teenagers praying for and talking about peace. It can be so hard to constantly pray for peace and feel like we're not getting anywhere. It's easy to lose hope and to think that God isn't listening to our prayers.

A stand-out moment for me at camp was when one of our younger campers asked if she could preach. This spirit-filled young woman gave a beautiful sermon about the love we feel at camp and how we need to spread that love and hope into the world. I don't think I can improve on that message, so I'll just leave for you here links to three videos that I think say it best.

The first is a video created by our campers. It was 100% the idea of teens entering 7th, 8th, and 9th grades, and I hope it will spread hope and love to the world.

The second is a sermon I gave the following Sunday at Emmanuel Church in Newport. I was largely inspired by the love of our campers.

The third is a music video by my favorite theologian, the Blessed Dolly Parton of Sevier County, Tennessee. It asks the question so burning in my heart: Are you there, God?

ECC Bridge Camp 2016

I am a fiercely independent person. I like to take care of myself, and I don't like to ask for help. I take great pride in doing good work, and I do it on my own. Even when I was in school, I used to dread group projects. I never trusted anyone else in the group to do the project in a way that upheld my personal standards, and I usually ended up either doing all the work myself or clashing with other leader types in the class. I help me. Look out for number one before you step in number two, as a friend of mine once put it.

Of course, when I only worry about myself or try to solve all my problems on my own, it becomes abundantly clear how inept I am when it comes to survival. I suspect that I am not alone in this. Over and over the Bible talks about communities: the people of Israel, the disciples of Jesus, the host of heavenly creatures. God created us all in community, and we do best in that community. I got an excellent example of this in last week's Bridge Camp.

Bridge Camp is a camp where teenagers sign up to be "helper campers" to a group of "bridge campers" with special needs. The helper campers come a day early to do a pretty intense training with professionals in the field of serving those with special needs, and then we have three days with our bridge campers. The bridge campers have special needs ranging from those with autism who only need some slight guidance to campers who are non-verbal and unable to care for themselves in any way without the help of another person. Some had sight impairment, some cognitive impairment, some had physical limitations, some could get easily over-stimulated, and every single one is a beloved child of God.

The greatest thing about Bridge Camp is that everyone can be themselves. If a camper with autism started making loud noises during church, no one gave them the stink eye. We just knew that that camper needed to make some noise, and we let them. If a camper with autism had difficult social skills and repeated themselves over and over, we didn't get annoyed with them. We just knew that that was one way they communicated, and we listened patiently. There was no judgement and no annoyance. Just love and acceptance.

When I think about my own fierce independence and need to take care of myself, I marvel at these campers who so readily accept the help they need. I also was deeply moved to see how selflessly the helper campers gave of themselves to care for their bridge camper. Every single helper camper went out of their way to make sure that their bridge camper had the best experience they could have, and I was particularly moved by the helpers who worked with campers that needed assistance with everything they do. Some of the bridge campers could not feed themselves or get around without assistance and couldn't do simple human things like take a shower or go to the bathroom on their own.

Think about that for a moment. Teenagers gave up a week of their precious summer vacation to help a person with special needs come to camp. They gladly served that person in some of their most personal moments by helping them bathe and go to the toilet. (I should add that they all had to complete safe church training and special needs training and were supervised by adults trained in the field of caring for others.) Watching those helpers with their campers was an incredible experience of servant ministry--of loving without exception and giving fully of themselves.

When we were doing our training about self-care for bridge campers, Meaghan, our camp director, said something that really stuck with me: "You might think it's awkward to help someone bathe or go to the toilet, but it's all they have ever known. That's their experience of the world." I think about myself in that situation. If I was in a position, as all of us could be, where I could not bathe myself or get to the toilet on my own, what would I do? Would my pride get in my way and cause me to self-destruct? What if no one showed me the incredible love that our teenage campers showed to their bridge campers.

You see, I think one of the great gifts that our bridge campers have is that they know that they are dependent upon others for their survival. In the words of the great Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire, "I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers." The rest of us think that we are independent, but really we all need each other. It's the South African idea of Ubuntu. The notion that our humanness depends completely on others. We are all interconnected. I am because we are.

One of my favorite moments of Bridge Camp came during the talent show. One of our bridge campers on the autism spectrum was performing a song and dance number on the stage. Those of us in the audience were clapping and cheering her on when another bridge camper who has Down Syndrome started dancing wildly in front of the stage. I spent a decade as a professional performer, and if someone were to upstage me like that, I would have been furious. I was debating whether or not to go ask the dancing bridge camper to sit down until it was her turn, when something incredible happened. The performer on the stage came to the edge, held out her hand, and helped her fellow camper up onto the stage. The solo act spontaneously became a duet. It was a beautiful, humbling, joyous, Jesus moment. Whereas I would have been annoyed, this bridge camper had the foresight to see that the act was better when they performed together. It was an incredible act of love and humility.

Friends in Christ, that is what Jesus came to earth to establish--a world where we are inextricably woven into the lives of everyone we meet. Our God and creator has so woven us together that God came among us as one of us so that we might not only be interconnected with one another but with God. It's a concept that boggles the mind--unless, of course, you've been to Bridge Camp. If you have, you've seen God's Kingdom come to fruition here on earth.

Watch a video of Bridge Camp here>

I was lost, but now I'm found. The first week of ECC Summer 2016

As part of our ECC University training week for camp staff, we have been looking at safety protocol and emergency planning. One of the things we’ve been working on perfecting is our missing person action plan. Hopefully, we will never have to use this plan, but it’s always better to be safe and have a plan that moves us calmly and efficiently. Of course, if we were going to see how well the plan worked, we needed someone to get lost. I volunteered.

After dinner, I packed my book satchel with a bottle of water, a good book, and some Off bug spray and headed down to the waterfront. It was such a beautiful evening, and the walk was peaceful and full of the sounds of nature. It was actually pretty hard to sneak across the road without anyone watching—a testament to how carefully we account for everyone at camp. As I walked through the winding paths of the woods toward the water, I reflected on what it means to be lost.

Growing up in an evangelical tradition, much emphasis was placed on finding those who were lost and bringing them to God. Think of the line from that old hymn Amazing Grace—“I was lost, but now I am found.” I remember in my Sunday school classes hearing about those who were lost and how it was our job as Christians to bring those lost souls to God. Like a search team we would seek out those wandering in the spiritual desert and save the lost. One frequently heard question in our Sunday school was asking when someone was “saved”. They could usually pinpoint a time and place. The implication was that we were all born “lost” and needed to be “found” before we could attain salvation.

My experience at camp has made me think that this model isn’t exactly right. All of us wander. All we, like sheep, have gone astray, but we weren’t born that way. I think each and every person always was, is, and will be a part of God’s family and loved by God. When the emergency bell began pealing, all the camp staff immediately gathered on the ball field to await orders. Even though they were told right away that it was a drill, everyone responded with the urgency and seriousness of a real lost person. Charles was lost. One of our own. A sheep had left the fold, and we as a community must find him.

Even though I was hiding pretty far from the main camp area in a rather secluded little grove by the water, I’m proud to say that it only took twelve minutes for a team to find me. With the proud and official voice of any rescue team, the teenagers radioed back to headquarters, “We’ve found Charles. Repeat. We have found Charles. Over.” It was simultaneously laughable and laudable. Even though they knew it was a drill and that I was in no harm at all, I got hugs, warm smiles, pats on the back, and assurances that I was a beloved member of the community. 

I think that Jesus calls each of us to care for one another the way the councilors at ECC care for one another. All of us, every single human being, are members of the family of God, and when one of us goes missing or wanders from the path, we should seek them out. Just as the teenagers that ran through the woods looking for me met me with hugs and celebration, we should rejoice in finding our missing brothers and sisters. No one chastised me for running away or scolded me for not leaving a note. No one shamed me for causing panic and told me what a bad person I was for scaring them. They simply noticed I was gone, ran to find me, and warmly brought me back into the fold. Even when I was lost in the woods, I was still a part of the family. Being lost doesn’t mean being a bad person. It just means that we’ve strayed from the path and need some guidance. I am so grateful for the youth that warmly welcome not just me but everyone into their fold. As the rock outside camp says, “He who enters here is a stranger but once.” We’re all a member of the family. We’re all a part of the cool kids. We are all loved as Jesus loves—unconditionally.