Father Steve’s sermon for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost (Year C), August 4, 2019.
So, the other day, Fr. Brooks and I were sitting around, relaxing with the dogs, and somehow or another, the conversation turned to winning the lottery. Not just the little scratch off, where you sometimes win enough to buy another ticket or two. No, we were planning on winning the big Powerball, when it was close to a billion dollars.
What would we do with it if one of us won? Well, of course we would take care of our family. I'd get a 4-wheel drive SUV. Brooks would get a good truck to haul rocks for a wall he plans on building. We'd tithe because we're priests. But then we began to diverge.
I started saying I wanted to maybe give a lot of money to the three churches so they'd never have to worry about anything. But then I thought, well, people might stop giving. And if they did that, then they'd feel they aren't needed and stop coming. And I'd probably need to leave, having given that much money. And I don't want to leave. I like doing what I'm doing.
So, I thought, maybe, instead, I could set up some fund to ensure that the poor in the area get what they need. Or maybe that migrant workers in our area have enough to lead dignified lives. Then I thought, well, if I did that, then word would get out, and others would move into the area. And what if so many do that local systems and churches get overwhelmed? Then I've destroyed the local communities.
So I thought, maybe I could pay a large business to relocate here. But then I thought about the infrastructure of the roads and railroads that would be needed, and I don't have any say over that, so, would that overwhelm things? I mean, there's already enough trucks whipping up and down the road through New Berlin.
And every time I thought of something, I shot myself down. And I still don't have any of that money!!!
Well, Brooks just sat and listened to me through all that. Then he took a draw on his Miller High Life and said, “I think I'd buy a castle!” And he had this great big smile on his face.
“Yup, I'd buy a castle.”
He figures there are probably castles all over England and Scotland that owners would love to unload. And he could hire local craftsmen to fix one up. And he'd be sort of the local baron and could help people if they needed it. But other than that, he'd hang out around his castle and do whatever it is you do, like when the Queen goes to hang out in one of hers.
But most of all, he would buy a castle because he thinks he'd enjoy it. He'd already taken care of his family and his church, so why not be helpful in a community while enjoying living there? Heck, he could still have a truck and work on building the wall he dreams of building.
And maybe, just maybe, Brooks has the better of it.
In our gospel reading, Jesus is telling his followers – and us – a story of a farmer who has a really good season of years, and being a good farmer, he takes the opportunity to expand, to get rid of the old silos and barns and build larger ones to store his abundance.
And frankly, this makes sense. And it not only makes sense to me, but it makes sense to writers of scripture, too. As far back as the book of Genesis, we have the story of Joseph, who as an adult, is second in Egypt only under Pharaoh. And his chief task is to save up as much grain as possible during seven good years so that there would be enough in Egypt during the seven bad years of famine. And Joseph is a hero in the Bible. He and his Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat even had a musical written about them.
We are always taught to be frugal and save. And to this day I do that. Even as a kid, I would pick up pennies and still do to this day. And I can't see myself changing.
But here's the thing.
When that famine hit Egypt? The Egyptians were so happy to have food that they sold themselves into slavery.
When the man in the parable finally filled his newer larger barns? He sat down to soothe his soul about how prepared he was for the future. Then he died the next day.
If I win the lottery? I'm going to twist myself into knots trying to makes sure that I do just the right amount of good without going overboard, like a kid making himself sick on too much cotton candy. I'll spend the rest of my life worrying so much about being a good steward that I won't have the opportunity to have a good life.
But I think Jesus is telling us something important here.
He's not saying DON'T prepare for bad times. He's not saying DON'T have any barns at all. He's not even telling us not to play Powerball.
Because he's not telling us about physical possessions at all.
I think he's talking about God's grace, God's love, God's abundance.
What Jesus is telling us is that God's abundance is never ending. There will be enough for each of us in life. It may not result in riches. It may not result in the jet-set life. It may not result in McMansions, or caviar, or lighting our cigars with hundred dollar bills.
But that love of God, the greatest gift of all, will be enough, never ending, and sustaining. Period. And if we worry about what we do with it, how to use it, then we will end up hoarding it. Locking it away in the barn of our souls until is spoils.
We don't need more and more of God's love, because God's love is perfect as it is. And the thing of this love is: if we share it – if we love God back, that love God gives us doesn't diminish.
If we share it – if we love our neighbor, that love God gives will still be there even when we try to give it away.
If we share it – if share the Gospel, the good news of this love – that love that God gives will continue to sustain us, and sustain the world.
But it's up to us to share it. We, each of us, have enough. Don't lock it up in your hearts, thinking you need to save it more and more. Be generous with that love, loving not just those like I would love with my lottery winnings: my family, my church, those I deem worthy. But try loving outside of that. Loving the unlovable, praying for those who won't pray for us, walking along side those who would rather we not even be around.
Because friends, there is no barn of the soul big enough to ever hold all the love God wants to grace the world with. So, don't even try to hold on to it. Don't even try.
Now, I probably lost half of you way back at the beginning when I started talking about dreaming about the lottery and you started dreaming, too.. And I have to admit that next time the numbers get big, I'll get me a ticket. Maybe even two. But I think after this gospel reading, I won't worry as much about those things I usually worry about. Maybe I'll think that it's ok not to win because God loves me, period. And that's enough. Even in this world God's love is endless, and that's more than enough.
But maybe, just maybe, if I do win? Maybe I'll get me a castle.
Amen