The Heart of the Matter

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-22; Luke 12:32-49

August 8, 2004

Itís good to live in Virginia, a state where school begins, just as God ordained it, on the Tuesday after Labor Day. Not everyone is so lucky, my sister reminds me as she prepares to return tomorrow to her teaching position in Atlanta.

It is ìback-to-schoolî season for many, and, as I pondered that fact last week, I was reminded of a story of Will Willoman. One August when Willoman was Dean of the Chapel at Duke Divinity School he invited returning students to his home for a cookout. After dinner one student commented that it was the first time he had ever been in the home of a faculty member, and Willoman said, ìthatís too bad. I think faculty should welcome students into their homes regularly.î

The student went on to compliment the hostsí home saying, ìthis is a really nice house. Does it ever trouble you as a Christian to live in such affluence?î

To which Willoman responded, ìnow I remember why we donít invite students into our home more often.î

Sometimes I feel the same way about Jesus, especially when he says things like ìfrom everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.î

I read the gospel lesson for this morning, and I think, ìnow I remember why I donít invite Jesus into my home more often!î

Last month on vacation I was at my parentsí home down in Tennessee. When Iím there these days, I always wind up sleeping in what was my baby brotherís room years ago. Somewhere along the line since weíve all grown up, my mother discovered some old, old photographs of some obscure relatives. The pictures were taken, Iíd guess, in the late 1800s. They are pretty cool artifacts, but the man and woman in the pictures have got to be two of the dourest looking people you can imagine. And the man, I kid you not, is a dead ringer for Karl Marx.

When Iím in one of my Christian-socialist moods, I feel pretty good sleeping under his watchful gaze. If Iíve been fretting over financial worries, Iím not so sure. When Iíve just bought a new pair of running shoes that are made in America by workers receiving a fair wage I feel pretty good about it. When I reflect on spending $90 on a pair of shoes in a world where millions go to bed hungry, Iím not so sure. When Iíve supported a local merchant with my money, I feel pretty good about it. And, if Iíve been shopping at the Wal-Mart, I roll over and sleep with my back to the man.

Of course, when I do that I find myself facing a table where my mom has placed a Bible. Marx to the left of me, Jesus to the right ñ or is it the other way around. In any case, there are just some folks you donít want to invite into your homes too often.

Now, donít go to work tomorrow telling folks that your pastor is some leftist who compares Jesus with Karl Marx ñ although I suppose that is safer these days than being known as a pacifist who wants gay folks to get married. But still, I donít need to get on any more watch lists.

And, obviously, Marx was no Christian, although a cursory look at the early church might give you the mistaken impression that the first Christians were Marxists. As a young man in a restaurant line reminded me a couple of weeks ago, several thousand years before the advent of Marxís economic theory, those in the early church set aside absolute claims of private ownership of property, held their possessions in common, sold their homes and land and distributed the proceeds to the poor (Acts 4:32-35).

Still, it has always seemed to me ñ whether itís Marx or Milton Friedman ñ economic theory misses the heart of the matter. And that is precisely what concerns Jesus the most: the heart of the matter is the matter of the heart.

Although this crucial section of Lukeís gospel is clearly concerned with economic matters, even here ñ in a passage framed by the parable of the rich fool and warnings about the time of judgment ñ Jesus is not so much concerned with the thickness of your wallet, the number of places to the left of the decimal point in your bank accounts, the value of your investments, the worth of your house. Jesus is ultimately concerned with the effect that those matters of your treasure have on your heart, for he understood so clearly that ìwhere your treasure is, there also will be your heart.î

That line often gets misquoted as ìwhere your heart is, there will be your treasure,î but Jesus knew better than that. We donít tend to invest our treasures following our hearts nearly so much as we invest our hearts following our treasure. Jesus might have said, ìshow me your checkbook ledger and I will show you your values.î

In our passage from Luke this morning, Jesus is telling his followers that whatever the measure of their treasure, if itís not being used for the good of Godís creation, for the good of the community, then itís being wasted. Worse than that, if your treasure is being walled off from the community, your heart is being walled of from God. For, if your treasure is being kept back from what is important in the heart of God, then your heart and Godís heart are profoundly separated.

Now this is incredibly difficult terrain. Not only is it theologically challenging to grasp and grapple with the scriptural witness around issues of money, it is often socially unacceptable in our culture to speak of money matters in public. Dana Jones, our pastor in Lexington, was fond of noting that he could speak out on all kinds of issues ñ capital punishment, race relations, guns, abortion, the authority of scripture, feminist theology ñ he could touch them all in sermons and not get too many people too upset. But when he talked about money the phones would be ringing on Monday morning.

Nevertheless, until we are honest with ourselves about the role of money in our own lives, in the life of the church, in the broader culture and in its politics, then we might circle around a lot of more or less important stuff, but we will not get to the heart of the matter.

I certainly wish I had this stuff figured out ñ in my own life, in the life of the church, in the broader culture and in its politics. But I do not. Nobody will ever come to me for financial advice. After all, when Cheryl and I moved from Chicago to Lexington in the mid-90s we cut our household income in half the first year and it worked so well the first year we decided to do it again ñ or so we told folks as I went back to seminary during that second year. No. I certainly do not have this stuff figured out.

I do, however, think I have some small purchase on what Jesus was pointing toward. In charging his disciples to make ìan unfailing treasure in heaven,î Jesus invites us to lift our lives to a higher plane and to participate in what we might call the ìkingdom economy.î

Laying up treasure in heaven does not mean to be spiritual at the expense of the earth and all those that on earth do dwell. Indeed, as Wendell Berry says, ìit means exactly the opposite: do not desecrate or depreciate these gifts [of earth and body], which take part with us in the being of God, by turning them into worldly ìtreasureî; do not reduce life to money or to any other mere quantity.î[1]

No, the heart of the matter for Jesus is not turning away from the world toward some pious life of other-worldly spirituality. Jesus is concerned with the very worldly question of how our various economies function. And, as Berry says, ìWhat the Bible proposes is a moral economy, the standard of which is the health of properties belonging to God.î[2]

If the standard of moral judgment on our various economies is the health, the well being, the shalom of all that belongs to God ñ which is to say the earth and all that is in it ñ then the question becomes how do we construct a moral economy? How do we construct a moral home economy? How do we construct a moral church economy? How do we construct a moral national economy? How do we construct a moral political economy?

This is incredibly difficult stuff, and we will barely begin this morning to lift up what might be said of it. But, if we are to be at all serious in calling ourselves followers of Jesus, if we are to be at all honest in proclaiming him Lord of our lives, then we must admit, to begin with, that he is lord of our economic lives as well as our social lives, our lives lived out in the marketplace as well as our private lives.

In our home economics this means inviting Jesus over more often, and bringing him along as we shop, as we make decisions about jobs, about investments, and about giving from our abundance for the good of the community.

In church it means much the same thing. You would think it goes without saying, but many a church board could stand to invite Jesus into budget considerations.

On a broader scale, a moral national economy must, at the very least, confess that the market was made for human beings, not human beings for the market. Thus it is the responsibility of the community to create a moral economy that reaches out to those left behind by the market.

It is not partisan politics to observe that the gospels do not propose or endorse free-market economics. Indeed, if we are to invite Jesus into the political economy we must admit that Jesus is neither a Democrat nor a Republican, neither a liberal nor a conservative, neither a free-market libertarian nor a welfare-state New Dealer.

If youíre a Christian who happens to be a Republican these days, shame your party into renewed concern for the least of these. Remind Congressional leaders that budgets are moral documents. If youíre a Christian who happens to be a Democrat, remind your party before it panders once more to the middle class of its historical and moral responsibility to the poor. And, no matter what party claims your support, remind all of our leaders that we learn much more about the character of a nation from how it treats its most vulnerable citizens than from the size and strength of its military.

This stuff is not easy, no matter which level you focus on. Fortunately, our texts for this morning help out. As a starting place to considering our home, church, national and political economies, what would it look like if we took seriously the first words that Jesus utters in the passage from Luke?

ìDo not be afraid! Do not be afraid little flock, for it is your Fatherís good pleasure to give you the kingdom.î You see, God has it all and it gives God pleasure to give it away. Thereís a lesson in that for those of us who want to cling desperately and fearfully to the stuff of our lives. Whatís the worst thing that might happen if we let go?

If, as has often been said, the opposite of faith is fear, then Jesus is saying here, ìbe faithful. Trust God, and find the abundant, joyful life that comes to those who live faithfully. ëConsider the liliesí and know that if God clothes them in such exuberant abundance ñ those things that are swept away with tomorrowís wind ñ how much more so will God dress you in abundance.î

Such living will empower you. Thatís the message in the familiar words from Hebrews. What we typically read as ìfaith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seenî might better be translated as ìfaith is the reality of things hoped for and the proof of things not seen.î In other words, in faith we participate in the emerging reality of what is hoped for. Indeed, faith itself moves us in that direction. Thus, rather than offering an obvious if elegant platitude about faith, the author of Hebrews, instead, makes a bold claim: faith has power.[3]

That crucial assurance makes all the difference as we struggle with the difficult challenge of allowing God to rule our economic lives, as we struggle to create moral economic orders in our households, our church, our nation and its politics. Moving boldly with faith, we can invite Jesus into each of these realms of our lives knowing that his deepest concern is for the health of our hearts. Amen.

 

 

Rev. Dr. David E. Ensign



[1] Wendell Berry, What Are People For? (New York: North Pointe Press, 1990), 99.

[2] Ibid., 100.

[3] Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, J. Clinton McCann, James D. Newsome, Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV ñ Year C (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994) 465.