Rich towards God

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."  Luke 12:13-21




The old line goes something like this: No matter how well you do in the Rat Race, in the end you're still a rat.


At last count I have ten guitars in my house. Ten guitars! That's five each for the two residents who play them.


I love music, and its creation is a means of prayer, praise, meditation, reflection and joy for me. Having access to guitars is good for me spiritually and psychologically. There's a Yamaha classical propped up within three feet of me right now, and it feels good just knowing it is there, brimming with wide open possibilities, a boat launch to broad creative currents. 


Yes, a guitar is good for me. But ten?!? Definitely excessive. Methinks I have fallen into the "More Is Better" trap. Fueled to consume, consume and consume some more, we are propped up by our desires, and become easy targets for anyone with something to sell. I'm guilty as charged.


I have too much stuff, and just off the top of my head I can name five things for which I am in the market right now, none of which is a kidney dialysis machine or shoes for the children. My true needs are all met. It's my wants that have me strung out. 


What I really crave can't be found at Stuff-Mart, Lowes or even Rossi Music. What I really crave is this thing Jesus called rich[ness] toward God. I want a wealth of treasured memories shared between the One and me. I want a currency of complete trust and understanding between us. I desire a house full of golden love and a bank vault of restorative Soul. 


The thing is, such richness is already mine. I can't for the life of me figure out where or how I happened to set it down and let it out of my sight again. One moment I'm breathing deep the dew-soaked morning air, the next I'm sinking in swells of pounding, plastic frenzy.


You get caught up in it, too? I return time and time again to the motto/mantra/bumper wisdom: live simply, that others might simply live. Yeah, simple is best. But simple isn't easy.


I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for the special offer
A guaranteed personality

I wasn't born so much as I fell out
Nobody seemed to notice me
We had a hedge back home in the suburbs
Over which I never could see

I heard the people who lived on the ceiling
Scream and fight most scarily
Hearing that noise was my first ever feeling
That's how it's been all around me

I'm all tuned in I see all the programmes
I save coupons from packets of tea
I've got my giant hits discotheque album
I empty a bottle I feel a bit free

Kids in the halls and the pipes in the walls
Making noises for company
Long distance callers make long distance calls
And the silence makes me lonely

It's not here, it disappeared.


-- Lost in the Supermarket (Strummer/Jones, from the Clash album London Calling, (c)1979 Sony Music)

Materialism and Corporate America

“I know a man, he lost his head. He said: 'The way I feel I'd be better off dead.' He said: 'I've got everything I've ever wanted, now I can't give it up...It's a trap. Just my luck.' ” -- Laurie Anderson, Monkey's Paw, from the album Strange Angels, (C) 1989, Warner Bros.

I see where the Pope spoke to young people in Australia, challenging them to abandon the headlong pursuit of material wealth. I assume he then flew his private jet back to his palatial apartments alongside the opulent, gold-, silver- and marble-filled St. Peter's Basilica. (I am not anti-Catholic. I am pro-irony.) I can only imagine what the humble fisherman-turned-itinerant servant of the Gospel would think of the towering, multi-billion dollar structure that bears his name.

The love of money is the root of much that is evil, Paul warned Timothy (1 Timothy 6:10). I must admit, if I don't love money, I am at least exceedingly fond of it. We don't get nearly enough time together, money and me. But I cherish every moment we spend.

For the thinking, self-examining American Christian, it is difficult to reconcile anti-materialistic Gospel messages with our hotly promoted civic shopping duties in this consumer culture. It is a struggle to wave bye-bye to all of the voices alternately whispering and screaming “BUY BUY.” But many of us view this American life as hopelessly perverted from the pursuit of happiness to the pursuit of MORE.

I believe we as a nation have lost our moral compass. Deregulation has been the mantra of the past four administrations, with devastating results. I provide as evidence the state of our supposed “free-market” economy: The deregulated media has bought out and shut down all competing and minority voices and given us pap in place of substance. The deregulated energy industry has given us the likes of Enron and oil companies that jack up profits to obscene margins as they rape the earth and consumers alike. The deregulated banking industry has given us mortgage and credit crises far worse than anything this nation has ever before seen. The deregulated investment industry has given us Bear-Stearns and many others whose uppermost executives fly off with their millions, immune to the common folks who have seen their retirements flushed down the drain. Deregulated airline industry? A poorly maintained fleet, lousy service and bankruptcies. Deregulated food industries? Outbreaks of food-borne illnesses, reprehensible land and animal stewardship, and brutal labor practices.

Deregulation will only work if the deregulated are willing and able to police themselves. This requires an awareness of – and allegiance to – a higher moral authority. But the current leaders of the corporate world in general seem to suffer from spiritual bankruptcy, doing things to boost stock prices that undermine our lives, our communities, our government and nation.

A for-profit corporation as a legal entity is an artificial person, born selfish and self-absorbed. A for-profit corporation “lives' to make as much money as possible. Such corporations love mammon, as it is the full defining measure of success and self-worth. A corporate entity has no conscience beyond that which its human handlers carry in their Armani briefcases. What's best for the stock price is seldom equivalent to what is best for humanity. But what's best for the stock price is inevitably the focus of the for-profit corporation.

The current state of for-profit America hearkens back to the days of the robber barons, doing whatever it takes to corner markets and eliminate the competition, regardless of what is best for the nation and her citizens. We are encouraged to remain addicted to that which does not satisfy. We are encouraged to help spread the disease of rampant consumerism to every foreign shore. We are encouraged to adopt the every-man-for-himself approach of the soulless corporation.

There is nothing inherently sinful in honestly pursuing prosperity. But I strain to find honesty in today's marketplace. How about you?