|
The Reverend Donald L. Hamer
October 11, 2009
The 19th Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 23, Year B Job 23:1-9, 16-17 Psalm 22:1-15 Hebrews 4:12-16 Mark 10:17-31
When you heard this morning’s readings from Scripture, you might have thought we had been beamed, as if on Star Trek, into the season of Lent. There is Job complaining that the Lord’s hand is so heavy on him and God seems so far away from him that he wishes he could “vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!” Then we read Psalm 22, the dominant Psalm for Holy Week, which begins, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me and are so far from my cry?” In fact, this morning we read about three different characters all of whom are struggling to find God. And while their stories are different, as we shall see, the central issue with which they are dealing is quite similar. The book of Job is about suffering and poses the question: Why does God allow the faithful to suffer? The story concerns a legendary figure of Judaism called Job, a very righteous man who is tested by Satan, apparently with God’s permission. “Is Job as righteous as he seems,” Satan wants to find out, or is his holiness only the product of his vast wealth and his position of power as father of a dynasty? In a bizarre deal struck between God and the devil, Satan is allowed to systematically deprive Job of all that he has. Yet, even after his family, his wealth and his health have all been taken from him, and even while he struggles with his relationship to God, he continues in his faithfulness and ultimate trust in God. Job is struggling to find God, and his inability to do so is devastating to a man who loves God and who is accustomed to living in God’s presence. In a similar way, the Psalmist is struggling in what seems to him like the utter absence of God. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” he laments – the same words uttered by Jesus at the height of his agony on the cross. They are the desperate plea of a believer to feel the presence of God at a time when the world is utterly beating him down. The psalmist feels like a crawling worm instead of a man, reflecting his own self-doubt that he could possibly be worthy of God’s intervention, so pathetic is his condition. He sees the world as a pride of lions, surrounding him on all sides and ready to pounce on him and devour him. He is so overwhelmed by life that even his own heart – the spark of life in the human body – seems to be melting like wax in his chest. Maybe some of you have felt that way before: The sudden loss of a job, the sudden death of a loved one, a serious medical condition threatening you or someone you love – all of these and other circumstances like them can make one feel so empty and alone, so vulnerable, and perhaps so far away from God.
And then we come to the rich man who is the subject of our Gospel passage. Jesus continues his teachings about what it means to follow him. Jesus is about to set out on a journey when the man approaches him. The man kneels before Jesus as to a master, but Jesus’ answer is born of humility: Rabbis (teachers) were not usually addressed as “good”; only God is good. The man insists that he has always kept “the commandments” and Jesus believes him (“Jesus ... loved him”, v. 21). But as often happens when Jesus meets what seem to be total strangers, he knows what is in the heart of this man. Note particularly how Jesus responds to him: He confirms that the man has indeed followed all of the commandments that deal with man’s relationship with other humans – you shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness; you shall not defraud; honor your father and mother – but what about his relationship with God? Jesus seems to recognize that the man puts his trust in his own piety and wealth and in his achievements. Just as the devil wonders if Job’s righteousness is rooted in his wealth and comfortable lifestyle, so Jesus seems to wonder if the man’s wealth is an impediment to the man’s relationship with God. Jesus tests him by telling him there is one thing he lacks : he must sell all that he has, give the proceeds to the poor, and then come and follow him. The man’s shock and hasty departure tell us that Jesus’ initial impression is correct. In Jesus’ time – as is the case today among many Christians – wealth generally was seen as a sign of God’s favor, an indication that because you had earned enough grace points in the Kingdom bank, you were entitled to cash in on a life of abundance here on earth. But as Jesus did so often, he turns conventional wisdom and values upside down. He can see that in this man’s case, his wealth and relative security get in the way of his relationship with God. Two aspects of this story are particularly noteworthy. First, Jesus does believe the man has followed the commandments with respect to other people, and with that, Mark notes that “Jesus loved him.” But then Jesus adds “You lack one thing” and tells the man that he must do something to fill that void: Sell all that he has and give the money to the poor. The “one thing” that the man lacks is emptiness. He lacks the utter desolation of Job at his lowest point, or the sense of abandonment felt by the Psalmist. He doesn’t need anything – and so he doesn’t need God. He wants to follow Jesus, but on his own terms. Tennis star Boris Becker shared his experience of being at the very top of the tennis world in the late 19980s – and yet standing on the abyss of suicide. When asked about his situation, he said, “I had won Wimbledon twice before, once as the youngest player ever to have won. I was rich. I had all the material possessions I needed ... It’s the old song of movie stars and pop stars who commit suicide. They have everything, and yet they are so unhappy. I had no inner peace. I was a puppet on a string.” Becker is not the only one to feel that sense of emptiness in the midst of a seeming cornucopia of plenty. The echoes of a hollow life pervade our culture and the covers of celebrity magazines. One doesn’t have to read many contemporary biographies to find the same frustration and disappointment as that expressed by Boris Becker. Judy Garland and Marilyn Monroe immediately come to mind. The author of several successful novels, including The Eagle Has Landed, Jack Higgins was asked what he would like to have known as a boy. His answer: “That when you get to the top, there’s nothing there.” (Our Daily Bread, July 9, 1994.) When you think about it, the experience of all of these people is a little like having a car and filling the gas tank with sand. Your tank is full, but you are running on empty. As most of you know, in my prior life before ordination I was an attorney and, simultaneously for 14 years, a judge. In both of those capacities I was blessed to work intimately with people whose lives were defined in part by various disputes. It’s been my experience in both of those roles (and my experiences as a pastor have validated my understanding of those experiences) that those who have the sense of being secure and satisfied are less likely to hunger for God because their perception is that they aren’t hungry. On the other hand, those who have lost everything according to the world’s values – like Job, for example, or the Psalmist – are most open to God’s presence filling that void, precisely because there is a void to be filled. Let me be clear: The point of today’s lessons is not that wealth is a sin, nor is it that emptiness and futility make one more virtuous or even closer to God. Remember that Mark tells us that Jesus “loved” the man in this morning’s story just as he was. The lesson for today is that all of us – whether of humble means or financially comfortable, whether struggling to find a job or at the top of our career – all of us are in equal need of God’s grace and mercy in our lives. There is a place in every human heart that needs to be filled by God’s grace. The challenge for many of us is not to fill it with something else. AMEN. Copyright © 2009 by the Reverend Donald L. Hamer |
