August 1, 2010

Clay Nelson

Pentecost 10     Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23     Luke 12:13-21

Video available on YouTube, Facebook

I need to begin with a confession. Last week I bought an iPad. I did this even though I knew that this Sunday I would have to preach on a Gospel that is often used to condemn greed and consumerism. I couldn’t help it. I’m addicted. I’m an Apple-holic. It is tougher to give up than smoking and there are no Apple Anonymous support groups. I took the first bite of the Apple as a young priest when I purchased an Apple 2e, freshly minted from Steve Job’s garage. Apple said it would be the only computer I would ever need. It was a marvel in its day, but the high didn’t last. Six months later they came out with the Mac. I had to have one. I was hooked. And so my descent has continued through the years with each new faster, more powerful version. A few years back I almost succeeded in kicking the need to have the latest greatest computer when they came out with the iPod, then the iPhone, and now the iPad. It is now hopeless. I no longer have the will to even resist. 

And why would I? With the touch of a button my iPad not only keeps me organized and connected, it entertains and informs. I can read the Bible or play Scrabble with someone on the other side of the planet. I can take a walk at night and have it point out the heavenly bodies in my location in real time while I listen to my latest audio book or Handel’s Messiah. I can read the local paper in Kalamazoo or check the weather in Timbuktu. On it my grandkids can race cars or Lynette can sketch out her next painting or Michael could write a composition for the organ and then play it. It can even serve as my teleprompter this morning as I give this sermon. And later this week after this sermon has been uploaded to YouTube, I can use it to watch it. Its capacity to impact my life seems to be limited only by the creativity and imagination of iPad programmers to create programs called “Apps” that make the iPad do what it does.

And yet I live with no illusions. I don’t for a minute think I need to have an iPad to live a full life. No matter how gifted, the programmers cannot create an app that replaces the love of my life, my family or friends or my passion for my vocation. There will never be an app I can check in the morning to see what is going to happen to me today. Never in all these years of Apple addiction have I thought for a moment that these electronic wonders gave my life meaning and purpose. While we might crave a device that helps us feel loved, helps us control the course of our lives, and gives us a reason to get up in the morning, that is not the way life works. While Apple makes software call iLife, it isn’t my life.

Which is the point of today’s Gospel.

In his parable of the Rich Fool, Jesus has a stark message for us, although not as cynical as the Teacher in Ecclesiastes, who laments everything we do as being vanity. Everything is futile. Nothing we do will spare us from death. All is chasing the wind. But Jesus comes close.

His parable tells about a man who is not a bad person. By worldly standards and his own, he is not foolish. He manages his assets well, is successful and plans for his retirement. We tend to respect such qualities in others. Generally, we think living such a responsible life is purposeful and meaningful, even wise.

In the parable the man is having a conversation with himself about what to do with his bountiful harvest. He makes plans for how to best benefit from his situation. But in the midst of his making plans, life happens or in this case death. God interrupts him to call him foolish. As wise as he may think he’s being, he is not going to enjoy the fruit of his labours. He will die that night. All he has done will not benefit him but his heirs. You can hear the Teacher muttering, “Amen to that! All is vanity.” in the background.

The reason I suggest Jesus is more positive than the cynical Teacher is he goes on to say that it doesn’t have to be this way for everyone, only for “those who store up treasures for themselves” and “are not rich toward God.” While not being specific about how to obtain it, he implies that meaning and purpose does exist for us in spite of all evidence to the contrary. All is not quite vanity.

My read of the parable is that it is more than a cautionary tale against selfishness and greed. It is more than a story to make us feel guilty about saving up for an iPad when people are hungry outside the church door. It is no small challenge to find meaning and purpose in life.

All too often some in the church have perverted this story and many like it to foster guilt, fear and hate to motivate people to seek personal salvation in the next world, leaving the hungry, still hungry. For centuries these stories have been used to manipulate people to support some kind of financial or political agenda. Critics of this theology call it “Empire theology.” [i] As an example, today’s Gospel is often used on Stewardship Sunday to induce giving out of guilt or fear to the church which is conveniently equated with God. They paint a picture of an impassive God, having all power and control of every detail in the world. Creation has little power of self-determination. God’s power is coercive. The way things are, for better or worse, is divine will. This theology projects that kind of power onto our leaders, supporting and legitimizing them. What we are offered in return for accepting the status quo is the empire’s promises of security and comfort in the future.

I believe this is a theology of oppression that insidiously teaches us that our ultimate concern is the next life. It works against hospitality, justice and peace. Since according to “Empire theology” God is only interested in the afterlife, creation has only instrumental value and has little intrinsic value (after all God is going to destroy it in the end anyway). We are free to plunder it for personal profit. By emphasizing only a personal and private relationship with God, where salvation in the form of continued life after death is our primary goal, the common good is undermined. It is a theology of violence and death contrary to God’s voice in the Bible calling us to life not death.

I think that Jesus would find the use of his parable for judgment a travesty. He was not about guilt and fear. While I suspect Jesus wouldn’t choose to own an iPad, I’d like to think he’d play chess with me on mine. He wasn’t a moralist. He might have compassion for my addiction, but he would not condemn me. The only moral teaching he offered was treating others with radical respect. His life, death and resurrection revealed that that which we call God is transformative love working in every present moment to create new life out of all of our experiences of death.

He is pointing us in the direction of finding purpose and meaning in this life, here and now. If we give radical respect and trust transformative love we will find it. It is what he gives Maximus today at his baptism as he proceeds on the journey from birth to death. He doesn’t provide a map like the iPad does but they are excellent directions all the same.

[i] A Commentary by Rick Marshall