Chasing the Wind
10 Pentecost C
Ecclesiastes 1:12-14; 2:18-23 Psalm 49:1-11 Colossians 3:12-17
Luke 12:13-21
Once upon a time when you were very small,
on a warm, windy March day perhaps you ran as fast as your little legs
could carry you across a field or a playground, your tiny hands
reaching toward the sky in hopes that you could capture the wind.
Gasping, you ran even faster, certain that with the next handhold—or
the one after that--you could surely catch it.
The writer of Ecclesiastes uses that image of catching the wind to
remind us that, in the long run, the pursuit of pleasure and wealth was
of no use to him. All of his great works had brought him nothing
but a hornet’s nest of worries.
Who would come after him to benefit from his toil, his vast
accumulation of property—the wise or the foolish? In the final
analysis, he is left to ask, “What’s it all about, Alfie?” We,
too, are faced with the same question: Is our labor, like his, a
delusion of buying permanence, of catching the wind?
The Romantic poet, Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote similarly of the fleeting
nature of man’s achievements and possessions in his poem
“Ozymandias.” An ancient and omnipotent ruler, Ozymandias had a
gigantic statue built in the desert to memorialize his mighty works for
all eternity. Perhaps you recall the last lines of Shelley’s
sonnet wherein a traveler, many centuries removed, comments on the
ruins of the massive sculpture:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Alas, Ozymandias has left not his imagined awe-inspiring
tribute, but only ruins, dwarfed by the expanse of desert. As the
writer of Ecclesiastes puts it: “All is vanity and a chasing after the
wind.” [Eccl. 1:14]
Sober lessons. How protectively we humans guard the tangible
signs of our success—our precious possessions. In today’s
gospel reading, most of us can easily relate to the brave soul in the
crowd who said to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family
inheritance with me.” [Luke 12:13]
I venture to say there are few gathered here this morning who have not
been affected by the fallout from the division of an estate. At
such times, we long to be remembered favorably in the will, and we
expect the distribution of goods to be fair. In short, we want
what is our due. Aunt Sally’s rocking chair, the painting Mom and
Dad bought on their honeymoon, the luxury sedan Uncle Harry hardly ever
drove, the grandfather clock that Mother promised to me.
Like the man in the crowd, we can get caught up in the things
themselves, either valuing them intrinsically or for what they
represent. At best, having such material mementos resurrects
treasured memories; at worst, the satisfaction of “winning out”
over another family member. And most tragically for some, the
prizes, or lack of them, represent the degree to which we think we have
been loved.
Ah, yes. Things. The amassing of belongings that drives the engines of commerce and characterizes our culture.
In the past few days, many of us have been dealing with our accumulated
stuff in preparation for the church yard sale. Probably, like me,
you discovered that there is a great deal we can remove from our “silos
and barns,” as Jesus teaches us in today’s parable from Luke. The
rubber-tire horsie swing purchased fifteen years ago for our
grandchildren and never hung, the camouflaged hunting clothes gathering
dust in the guest bedroom closet, the jazz CD’s my brother loved and I
saved but rarely listened to.
Where amid all this vanity can we find the wisdom sought by the writer
of Ecclesiastes? Jesus offers us clear guidance. “Be on
your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist
in the abundance of possessions.” [Luke 12:15]
We have all known people who make gods of their homes, their late model
cars, their prestigious memberships. We ourselves are hardly
immune from coveting the possessions of others or taking undue
satisfaction in our own possession of them. But, as Scripture
reminds us, these practices are not life, but vanity.
Jesus, in the parable about the rich man, makes it clear that “those
who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God”
[Luke 12:20-21] are fools.
I don’t think Jesus is necessarily saying that we should sell all our
worldly goods and go about in a hair shirt, but rather that greed and
covetousness have no place in our thoughts and actions if we are to be
“rich toward God.” The psalmist echoes the message, citing the
wickedness of “those who put their trust in their goods, and boast of
their great riches” [Psalm 49:5]
So it comes down to a matter of priorities. If we desire to put
God first and seek to be rich toward him, we arrive at the inevitable
question: What use are we making of our God-given worldly
possessions? Do we view them as a form of self-aggrandizement or
as a means to reach out to those in need?
There are many reasons I love St. James’ Church, but right at the top
of the list is the fact that outreach is way of life here—whether it be
in weekly contributions to the Food Bank, the hospitality of a soup
supper, support of a Ugandan school for orphans, funds raised over the
years to benefit community non-profits ranging from People Helping
People to ECHO to a center for senior citizens. And that list
doesn’t include contributions sent beyond the boundaries of Carroll
County to such national and diocesan initiatives as the Episcopal
Mental Illness Network and the Dick Johnston Summer Camp for children
of the incarcerated.
This weekend’s yard sale is an outstanding example. Working
together, we offered our possessions so that others might derive
benefit or pleasure from them. Although I couldn’t work the sale,
I imagine there were heartwarming stories of those who found a
discarded treasure that to them made all the difference.
Funds raised from this sale will make all the difference, too, since
the money is earmarked to do our part in helping achieve the Millennium
Development Goals, adopted by the United Nations, and endorsed by the
national church.
In brief, the Millennium Development goals are these:
* Eradicate extreme poverty and hunger
* Achieve universal primary education
* Promote gender equality and empower women
* Reduce child mortality
* Improve maternal health
* Combat HIV/AIDS, malaria, and other diseases
* Ensure environmental sustainability
* Develop a global partnership for development
Our local Millennium Development Goals committee will be
recommending to the vestry a variety of worthy projects: perhaps help
for the poor in Guatemala, especially pregnant mothers and young
children. Or maybe support for the dental clinic ECHO has in the
planning stage. As you can see, St. James’ will be supporting
projects that most directly help the poor and educationally
disadvantaged.
In her book On a Wing and a Prayer, Presiding Bishop Katharine
Jefferts-Schori addresses the church’s response to these goals.
She says, “We are . . . beginning to recognize that very small actions
on our part can make enormous differences for good in the rest of the
world.” [p. 48]
Statistics bring us to our knees. Consider, for example that more
than 1 billion people live on less that $1/day and are hungry. Or
that 11 million children die every year from preventable disease.
I was deeply moved by an editorial cartoon that appeared recently in
the Arkansas Democrat Gazette. It shows a child sitting in a
wasteland, his ribs protruding, his limbs like matchsticks, his head
enlarged in proportion to his emaciated body. In his twig-like
fingers he holds the front page of a newspaper. In large
type the headline reads, “Everyone wants an iPhone.” In the
bubble above the child’s head are his thoughts: “Can you eat it?” [Arkansas Democrat Gazette, Section J, p. 4, Sunday, July 1, 2007]
Whether we are talking about those starving in Darfur, displaced by
Hurricane Katrina, or those living down the street, jobless and hungry,
these are our neighbors and as Jefferts-Schori says, “ . . . we are
meant to be servants to them all. How we use our abundance is a
very real statement about what it is we do believe.” [p. 50]
In the big scheme of things, a church yard sale in Eureka Springs,
Arkansas, may be a “very small action,” but it is one with tremendous
consequences, not just for those who are the beneficiaries of our
property, money, and labors, but for all who would grow in
richness toward God.
Ultimately, we cannot catch the wind. But freed from the things
of life that drag us down and cripple us, we can leave behind a rich
legacy of compassion, healing, and love. For it is in sharing our
abundance and in embracing our brothers and sisters that in God’s eyes
we become truly wealthy.
AMEN.
Laura Shoffner
August 5, 2007
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