Being Rich Toward God

Both the Old Testament lesson and Gospel for this Sunday point toward a basic problem of the human condition, endless toil for the accumulation of that which does not last.  In its most benign form it is “saving for a rainy day”; in its worst, unadulterated greed.  They are two forms of the phenomenon of hoarding. 

And that, Ecclesiastes characterizes as nothing more than vanity.  “[S]ometimes one who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave all to be enjoyed by another who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil.  What do mortals get from all the toil and strain with which they toil under the sun?  For all their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their minds do not rest. This also is vanity.” (2:21-23)

Jesus was aware of the same basic human problem.  He told a parable in the 12th chapter of Luke about a man who had a great abundance and hoarded it.  The rich man pulled down his barns to build bigger ones to store all his excess and rejoiced, saying to himself, “You have ample good laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, and be merry.”  (v.19)

God, however, had other plans and said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”  (v.20)  It was, in the word of Ecclesiastes, nothing but vanity.

Both Ecclesiastes and Jesus deal with a basic human concern, the quest to have enough by making sure we have more than enough.  Hoarding is our method.  I know no one who is exempt from it.  But Ecclesiastes and Jesus have two different approaches.  Ecclesiastes is despairing of the basic human condition.  “Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity.”  (1:2)  In other words, all is worthless.  All is lost.  We spend our days toiling for that which will not get us what we long for and that which will not last.  And there is no way out. 

Jesus, however, offers an alternative way to live.  We are not bound by the basic human condition after all.  There is an antidote to hoarding. 

Perhaps it is a bitter pill to swallow, but all need not be lost.  Referring to the futility (vanity) of the rich man’s hoarding, which he did not live to enjoy, Jesus said, “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” (v. 21)  He refers to one who was rich in possessions but not rich toward God.  The implication has to be that it is possible to reap an abundance and still be rich toward God.  And here’s how.

In the context of the parable, what stood between the rich man and God was not the abundance itself.  Abundance, after all, comes from God.  It was the larger barns necessary to keep the abundance for himself.  The only solution to hoarding is to give the abundance away.  It is admittedly not an easy thing.  Still, it is the only way. 

Hoarding has to do with surviving, and as the parable illustrates, even that it cannot guarantee.  Giving has to do with living.  And living for all its worth is what it means to be rich toward God.  Anything else is but vanity.

Peace,
+Stacy

What Are We Going to Do About It?

This is a complement to last week's reflection, "Have We Learned Anything At All?"

The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s accomplished a dramatic change in our culture through the strategic use of law. 

It started in 1948 when President Truman issued an Executive Order to end segregation in the military.  The Supreme Court dealt a death blow to segregation in the public schools in  Brown v. Board of Education  in 1954 in a strategy led by NAACP counsel Thurgood Marshall.  Other legally-sanctioned segregation began to crumble when Rosa Parks was arrested for failing to move to the back of the bus in Montgomery on December 1, 1955, which led to legal desegregation of public transportation in that city a year later.  The Little Rock public schools were forcibly integrated in 1957 when President Eisenhower called in the National Guard in support of the courage of the Little Rock Nine.  President Kennedy established the Committee on Equal Employment Opportunity in 1961, and sent federal troops to enforce a court order for the admission of James Meredith to the University of Mississippi in 1962.  The Civil Rights Act of 1964 followed.  President Johnson strengthened affirmative action by Executive Order in 1965.  The Supreme Court ruled that state laws prohibiting interracial marriage were unconstitutional in 1967.  Segregated housing laws were addressed in the Civil Rights Act of 1967.  The Supreme Court made busing part of the remedy to historic patters in Swann v. Charlotte-Mecklenburg Board of Education (1971).  Congress overrode President Regan’s veto to pass the Civil Rights Restoration Act in 1988.  The Civil Rights Act of 1991 was passed despite presidential opposition. 

There have been legal setbacks, too.  Most recently, the Supreme Court in June eroded the Voting Rights Act.  There are legal victories for Civil Rights still in need of protection and others yet to be won.  These are the sorts of things and the sorts of needs that inspired me to want to be a lawyer.

Still, one of the things I believe is true in light of the death of Trayvon Martin and the acquittal of George Zimmerman is that law has about brought us about as far as it is able.  This is the reality that inspired me to want to be a priest. 

It isn’t that I think law has no place in this battle.  We cannot afford to take it for granted.  It also is not that I think law has nothing to do with the contents of the human heart.  I think what one thinks often follows how one behaves and that the practice of ethical behavior can, over time, yield a moral character. 

But I think there are limits, and I think we have now run into the limits like a brick wall.  Democratic government, because it necessarily reflects the existing will of the people, is not much set up to be a leader of moral change.  It is, though, inherently responsive to change that begins with the people.  Indeed, the legal steps that led to progress in Civil Rights over the last 65 years were in the main forced on the government by the political pressure exerted by a moral movement. 

The main thing for us to remember now, I believe, is that it was a moral movement led by the Church.  It was not universally embraced by the Church, especially the white Church, but it was a movement of the Church nonetheless.  When Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of the arc of the moral universe, he was speaking of the prophecy of the Old Testament and the new creation promised in Christ in the New. 

The tragedy of Trayvon Martin’s death has made plain to me what, in truth, was there to be seen for many years.  What is needed is another moral movement in our society, and I believe it is a moral movement, though not the exclusive possession of the Church, that can only be effectively led by the Church. 

This time the work is harder.  The venue is not Oval Office, the legislature, or the courts, which are relatively easily known with established rules and where our predecessors have walked before us.  Now the venue is the human heart, an almost inscrutable mystery, but the particular concern of the Church.  It is what we do.  It is slower, harder work, but it is also surer. 

Only when it is accomplished can we be secure that progress is not endangered by judicial review of the Voting Rights Act.  Only when it is accomplished will affirmative action be unnecessary.  Only when it is accomplished will black teenage boys be able to walk the streets at night in equal safety to their white teenage neighbors.  This is hard work, but there is no one else to do it.  And there is no one better at it than we.  Indeed, it is God’s gift to us, God’s grace. 

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:  everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!  All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of  reconciliation to us.  So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.  (2 Cor. 5:17-20)

Law has taken us as far as we can go.  Now conversion is up to us.  And conversion is a matter of grace.  The Church is to be its instrument. 

It is up to us to recommit ourselves to building what King spoke of as the Beloved Community.  The conversion of the world must begin with our own.  And the first step in that, I am convinced, is some hard conversation using all the tools at our disposal.  I am convinced of it because conversation and conversion are, at their roots, the same word.  And I am convinced of it because conversation and conversion, if the Civil Rights Movement taught us anything, is where moral movements must begin.  The only difference this time is that we have now moved from the realm of the law to the real of the Spirit.

Peace,
+Stacy

Have We Learned Anything at All?

A Florida jury has now rendered its verdict on the question of whether George Zimmerman is legally guilty for killing Trayvon Marin.  I cannot answer the question of whether or not theirs was the right decision.  I cannot answer the question of what happened on the night of February 26, 2012.  I have no reason to question the good faith of the members of the jury who listened to the evidence day in and day out beyond the fact that I am left as deeply disturbed after it as I was before it, maybe more so.  What I believe, though, is that these are the wrong questions to ask.  My hope is that now that the trial is over we can turn our attention to asking the right questions.  The others are more distractions. 

The second right question (I’m going to come back to the first):  Why is it that an African American teenage boy in America who goes out to buy Skittles and a drink is more likely not to return home than a white teenage boy?  This one ought to cause more than a few sleepless nights of soul searching.

The third right question:  Does this whole sordid affair lay bare the reality that our society values white lives more than it values black lives? 

The fourth right question:  Why is it that reasonable doubt is so much more likely to benefit a white defendant than a black one?   

The fifth right question:  What possible purpose do “stand your ground” laws, such as the one Florida has and that came into play in this case, serve beyond encouraging avoidable violence, especially by the privileged?

The sixth right question:  Why do we tolerate vigilantes, for is that not what neighborhood watch programs are, in affluent neighborhoods well served by the police?

The seventh right question:  Given the sixth question, why is it that we have no tolerance for the same thing in poor neighborhoods poorly served by the police?

The eighth right question:  Why on earth would we allow anyone the opportunity to act from the most ambiguous places of their hearts and the most reactive parts of their brains with handguns? 

The ninth right question:  Why is it some of our leaders would use this American tragedy to try and keep us from thinking clearly and dispassionately precisely when we most need to?

The tenth right question:  How do we confront the national denial and failure of self-reflection that mythologically relegates racism to being a southern phenomenon by which the rest of the country is somehow untainted?

And now I come to what I think is the first right question.  It is this.  Have we learned anything at all?  And this one has a corollary.  What are we going to do about it?

Peace,
+Stacy

Why join the Episcopal Church?

It is my pleasure to share today a Facebook posting by my good friend and colleague, the Rev. LaRae Rutenbar, a priest of the Diocese of Western Michigan, and the former Dean in the Interim of Christ Church Cathedral, Lexington, where her ministry at a crucial time is something for which I’m forever grateful.

At one time the Episcopal Church was rich in financial, political and cultural status. But long about the late 70's we did some deep soul searching as a Church and began a major change that has threatened our status. Several faithful and deeply committed people believed that a Christian church that was like an exclusive country club was antithetical to the gospel of Christ. Provoked by the Holy Spirit the Episcopal Church risked her very existence for those on the fringes of society. Civil rights, including women in all different ministries, the homeless, homosexual, the divorced, the unwed and the abused. We not only welcomed them but embraced them as brother and sister. What happened is that the wealthy fled for fear their money would go to causes instead of brick and mortar. Those who believed they were being morally corrupted by the inclusion of the "invasion" of others less pure and obviously unaware of the moral guidelines fled our ranks and took with them their money, influence and numbers. The once grand and magnificent church was left with aging buildings, lower (or non existing budgets) and a membership that looked a lot more like the kingdom of God rather than the country club of former years. We have risked much because we believed God had called us all to the feast. And many of those who came were poor, spiritually and financially.

So now we are a smaller, leaner and more inclusive church than before. Do we accept everyone? No, but we accept more than most. There is still the mysterious and holy liturgy in which we are all transported to the gates of the kingdom. Musicians still choose our space to offer their gifts of creativity and artists give their talent to a church that once paid them handsomely for their craft.

The Episcopal Church has never been very big in terms of major denominations. Yet, we are one of the churches dedicated to the teachings of Jesus as he really taught them! Do not join us if you want to look good at the office, the country club or amongst your social group. We often get comments like: 'you're that church with all the homosexuals, right?' To which I say, 'no, we are the church with all the children of God.' Only join the Episcopal Church if you’re willing to ask this question: Where might God be leading us and we might be unwilling to go? We have little money, aging buildings, no status in society-- we are a rag tag group of people who have been willing to risk it all for the sake of the Gospel to which we are called. Some will say that we actually began to read the gospels rather than carry the book around.

We are smaller but we are closer to the people that God has called from the highways and byways to the feast of the lamb.

Every once in a while, when I have the church budget in front of me and the needs of the broken pressing at my door, I remember fondly the church of my youth. Full churches, interesting programs and grand choirs. But, I am one of those for which the church was willing to pay the cost. I am a woman in ordained ministry -- and I thank God every day for a smaller but more faithful church.

It is my pleasure to share today a Facebook posting by my good friend and colleague, the Rev. LaRae Rutenbar, a priest of the Diocese of Western Michigan, and the former Dean in the Interim of Christ Church Cathedral, Lexington, where her ministry at a crucial time is something for which I’m forever grateful.

Peace,
+Stacy

God is Love

Love is perhaps life’s greatest mystery.  Where does it come from?  How do we participate in it?  Why does it sometimes fail?  What does it have to do with feelings?  Mysteries are important because they point us toward God. 

I do not know the answer to any of these enduring questions about love.  I do know that I was surrounded by it last weekend.  And I am convinced that there is no greater pointer to God than human love.

I once heard someone say that parents love their children not so that their children will love them, but so that their children will love their children.  I might add to that “and others.”  And last weekend I saw all my dreams as Andrew’s dad come true as he married Jessica, whom he clearly loves.  One day, should they choose and God will, they will be wonderful parents.  In the meantime, they will be building a life together. 

An old friend called last week about marrying his long-time partner in New York.  It is something he sadly cannot do in Georgia.  I helped just a little in facilitating that.  In like manner, couples flocked to city halls in California to make lifelong commitments to one another in light of the Supreme Court’s rulings last week.  It makes me happy that my son’s marriage is starting in a world in which marriage is less and less the privilege of some to the exclusion of others, so different from the world in which his mother and I were married 34 years ago.  Far from detracting from his marriage, it makes it even more complete for when justice is denied to some, it is denied to us all.  Justice, like love, made itself better known this weekend, and that also is of God.  But most importantly, witnessing justice come to be was also a glimpse of love prevailing against its adversaries, the kingdom of God drawing near. 

This weekend was not only a celebration of the love of husbands and of wives.  I was at least as aware of the love that surrounded all of this weekend, family and friends who made the journey because they loved us, and others who could not be there in person but held us in prayer.  It was, once again, a glimpse of the kingdom in a celebration of human love.

I do not know the answers to the mysteries of love, but I’m pretty sure that God stands behind them and that the more we live into the mystery, the more God is known.  Love, I think, begins and ends in God.  The more unconditional it is, the closer God is and the more easily seen.  John the Evangelist put it this way:  “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” (1 Jn. 4:12).  It is as if God is the sun and we are the moon, reflecting, even dimly, God’s brilliant love, which is the origin of our own.  Our love, in the end, is not about us at all.  It is all about God. 

This was a weekend of experiencing that for me.  I am very grateful.

Peace,
+Stacy