That’s Funny, It Doesn’t Feel Like Fall

Luke 12:13-21

Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me." But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?" And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 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. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God 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?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

I liked Lose’s opening on his workingpreacher reflections: 

“Stewardship season, already?” 

Yup.

Of course, its all stewardship, yada yada yada.

I suspect there is a danger in thinking that the very basics of the walk in Christ are something beyond which we have progressed. . . 

Isn’t this about basics?

I suspect so. 

In a very complex, deep way it is.

And so is all of your life.

Though a friend of mine did not find it too helpful, I liked the comments in the blog hardesquestion.org.

Russell Rathbun - it says he's the “curator” - groovy term - maybe I’m the curator of doing less. Heck I’m the Czar of Doing Less!

I digress.

I liked his riff - not so much his hardest question, as his line before stating his hardest question: 

I have to tell the truth. I think I am the guy who reads this parable as a prophetic word for myself, but I live my life like I read this as a prophetic word for the rich other guy. I don’t want to care about the abundance of possessions, but I do.  Herein lays the hardest question in this text for me:  Can I be honest about my desire for material abundance and the security it promises?  Do I repress that desire it in the name of my “understanding” of the “correct” interpretation of the text?

Heck, that is all good, isn’t it?

I think that in part, my problem is that I CAN be honest about it - but then I avert my eyes from this sad reality. The living my life part is more where the hardest question seems to lie, isn’t it?

In Bible Study this morning, it was clear that there is an abiding temptation with a parable like this, a temptation to read it in such a way that we can see that WE ARE NOT LIKE THAT GUY. 

We hold him at arms length, and maybe grab a broom stick to get him a bit further away.

What might this text do for us AFTER we have responded in self defense?

A couple years ago, I ran across a story by Barbara Brown Taylor.

Who knows if it actually happened. Heck, who knows if I remember it correctly. . . by the time I used it in a sermon, I couldn’t find it. . . 

I remember that I prefaced my sharing of this story by saying that it wasn’t MY story, and by saying that I was hesitant to share the story. 

The way I remember, she said that in worship one Sunday, they prayed for the poor and hungry. Afterwards, a person who had been at the service. A person who was obviously poor. Went up to Barbara and said to her, something like this: “we prayed for the poor today. Why didn’t we pray for the rich? For those who have too much? For those who are drowning in stuff and ignoring God’s call to reach out with their abundance and share?” 

Youch!

I’m not sure this is fitting with this text, but maybe it is.

(It’s more fitting than the pietist move to say that we need to spend more time praying. . . )

There is so much here in these few verses. 

My friend who doesn’t like Rathbun (ok - he just didn’t find it useful this week) really appreciated Mary Hinkle Shore’s sermon. (I digress again, but I was disappointed to learn that Mary and the Norse Horse are classmates. He introduced me to her the other day and I asked her, “you had the same teachers as he did? WHAT HAPPENED?” She was too nice to answer, though she clearly understood what I was talking about. Ask the Vicar, he was there too.)

She makes the marvelous move of looking ahead ten verses to 12:32 “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  

This “give you the kingdom” is plural you. . . This gift is to the flock, not the sole sheep she says. “It is the Father’s good pleasure to give y’all the kingdom.”

How might knowing that have helped the farmer?

Heck, isn’t the more important question, how might it help me?

Yup.

ONLY ONE THING - plus maybe one more

Luke 10:38-42

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."

I think that one direction that people clearly should NOT go, is to diss Martha. She’s had it pretty tough.

And there are plenty of so-called Martha’s who feel beat up by this text. 

Of course, many of them are sort of annoying busy-bodies, so its dang hard not to pile on.

BUT -  like the parable that precedes it, there are depths here that can take you so deep, you could get the bends when you surface....

A few preaching paths - 

I heard Anna Carter Florence give a quite humorous presentation/sermon. She really hammered on “Lord, TELL HER THEN TO HELP ME”!!!!

very funny

Among her good points - 

Arguments are best between sisters and brothers. Who better to know Mary’s propensity to dodge the work than her long suffering sister? 

Notice the complete lack of direct communication. . . 

She says: “It’s hard to serve Jesus and fight with your sister at the same time. Its hard to stay focused on what he’s done, when you’re so mad about what she HASN’T done.”

then she notes that. . . Susan Derber (I think) has this great idea - what if the next night at dinner, Mary was getting tired of sitting at Jesus’ feet? 

“Lord, it’s not fair that I’m THE ONLY ONE sitting here listening and taking notes. Tell Martha to get in here and listen too!”

Funny. 

She drives to this: That Mary “chose” her role. So did Martha, really, but now she’s whining about it. 

What if we saw our many and varied ways of serving God as a joyful choice, instead of onerous burden? 

Not a bad point. As they say - - - somewhere --- “That dog will hunt.”

I’m beginning to wonder at two things. . . 

Why is it that no one makes any comment on this aspect of Jesus’ comment (chiding) to Martha: “which will not be taken away from her."

What does that mean? Is it possibly central to the story? Maybe (probably) not. Still.

The other thing I wonder at. I forgot. . . 

heck

Oh yeah. What is that ONE THING?

The Word? Jesus' teaching?

If so, then why doesn’t Luke tell us what he taught?

Could it be love.

There’s a song for this I’m sure.

Love that will go to the Cross?

Why does Martha prepare the meal?

Hospitality? Isn’t that a sharing of love? 

Why does Mary listen? Love?

Why do we do a lot of the things we do? 

Why do people come to Church on Sunday? Loving Jesus? 

Why do people gather on a Saturday, and clean the Church yard, care for the building, build a Habitat House?

What is lost when a good part of the conversation is whining about who ISN’T there? 

Love?

It is the ONE THING, and it gets lost in a million ways. The distractions are - to use a Lukan term - Legion

and then, there is this from Culpepper, who reminds us that Jesus might have loved with a love that doesn’t love boundaries. . . .

Part of Culpepper's (Luke, New Interpreter's Bible) "Reflections" on the text page 232 

The power of these two stories consists not just in that they exemplify the great commands of 10:27 but in Jesus' choice of characters to illustrate the love of neighbor and the love of God: A Samaritan and a woman. The social codes and boundaries were clear and inflexible; a Samaritan would not be considered a model of neighborliness, and a woman would not sit w/ men around the feet of a teacher. 

In its own way, the conjunction of the stories about the good Samaritan & the female disciple voice Jesus' protest against the rules & boundaries set by the culture in which he lived. As they develop seeing & hearing as metaphors for the activity of the kingdom, the twin stories also expose the injustice of social barriers that categorize, restrict, & oppress various groups in any society (Samaritans, victims, women). To love God w/ all one's heart & one's neighbor as oneself meant then & now that one must often reject society's rules in favor of the codes of the kingdom - a society without distinctions & boundaries between its members. The rules of that society are just two - to love God & one's neighbor - but these rules are so radically different form those of the society in which we live that living by them invariably calls us to disregard all else, break the rules, & follow Jesus' example.

You want me to do WHAT? For HIM???

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he said, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." And he said to him, "You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live."
But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, 'Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.' Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?" He said, "The one who showed him mercy." Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise." Luke 10:25–37

Who’s the forgotten man in all of this?
In some ways, it seems to me that there is a lot of talk about everyone but the traveler.
Bernard Brandon Scott suggests (this is, of course, a very cursory reading of his comments in "Hear Then the Parable) that the first hearers of this story would be listening for a hero, for one with whom they can identify. The priest and Levite would probably be regarded with a certain measure of anti-clericalism, and so there would be no problem in writing them off as not worthy of imitation. Yet, the Samaritan is ruled out as well. In listening for one with whom to identify  -  only the beaten man is left.
Interesting.
I am fairly sure that those who listen to this parable and identify with the Good Samaritan - are often - how does one say it? Not sufficiently . . . humble.
While I tire of reading sermons where they take a long detour to talk about how Jews and Samaritans did not get along, etc. etc. etc. etc. There is much there, and it may well be necessary to spend some time with this reality. This animosity is fairly central to the shock of the story. . .
I have wondered at the beaten man. Can I identify with him?
I have wondered at Jesus. “He was despised and rejected a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” Seems like the beaten man, AND the Samaritan are embodied in the one who goes to the cross.
Is this one where we are called to ste outside the story, rather than listen for ourselves here?
I doubt that, but I wonder.
On a quite different tack, I liked this sermon illustration: “A little one said to her grandpa. “Grandpa tell me a story.” “What kind of story?” the grandfather asked. “One about me.”
How is this story about me?
Who does it call me to be? Well, there was this traveler, who was beaten, hung on a cross, and left not half dead, but entirely and truly and tragically dead. He’s the one who said: "Go and do likewise."