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10th Sunday after Pentecost Genesis 15:1-6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Gospel according to Luke 12:32-40 "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. "Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves. "But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This morning Jesus says to his disciples and to us: "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom." OK, I can do that. I’ll have faith, and I won’t be afraid. But then he says, "Sell your possessions, and give alms . . . for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." And he says, "Be dressed for action." All the time. Stay alert. Do not be caught unprepared. Ever. "The Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour." All right, lets be honest here. Now I’m afraid. Sell your possessions? Be alert all the time? Focus on Christ’s coming all the time? I don’t think Christ is calling us to a level of commitment that has to be taken literally in that we all have to sell all our possessions and do nothing but focus on Christ. Certainly early Christians had possessions, and Saint Paul, who was a tent maker, presumably was allowed to focus on tent making when he had a needle in his hands. If you try to sew canvas while thinking about Jesus, you’re going to draw blood. But, lest we think that this gets us off the hook, it doesn’t. Jesus might be speaking in hyperbole, but his point is clear. None of our possessions can mean anything to us compared to our devotion to God. God needs your house? "You’ve got it God." No hesitation, no fear. God needs your car? "You’ve got it God." No hesitation, no fear. God needs your money? "You’ve got it God." No hesitation, no fear. God needs whatever you own that you love most? "You’ve got it God." No hesitation, no fear. No possessions can cause us to hesitate in our willingness to give them up for the cause. And Jesus says none of our activities can interfere in any way with our readiness to receive God. "You need me to lose my job on your account, God? You’ve got it." No hesitation, no fear. "You need me to not dedicate myself to my career if that pulls me away from dedication to you, God? You’ve got it." No hesitation, no fear. "You need my friendships, my habits, my hobbies, my vices, all to be conformed to my constant readiness to receive you, God? You’ve got it." No hesitation, no fear. So getting out from the literal reading doesn’t get us off the hook, does it? Are you there? Can you respond to all those things, "You’ve got it, God," with no hesitation, no fear? Can you? I can’t. And yet Jesus says, "It is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom," and then he tells us to do these things, to be this way — ready always to say, "You’ve got it, God," without hesitation or fear. You see, that is the kingdom. The kingdom of God is not "pie-in-the-sky." It’s that freedom. That faith. That confidence. That dedication. That fearlessness to be absolutely and completely the child of God we were created to be — living fully, flat out, no hesitation, no fear — for the glory of God. That is the kingdom. I think most of us sense that, at least we have some sense of it in that we sense where we don’t have it. Don’t most of us dream in some way of a life without fear? A life totally dedicated to God? A life absolutely unencumbered by concerns and cares and love of possessions? A life of absolute faith, liberated from caring about ourselves? How liberating, not to care about ourselves, to know that whatever happens to us, God will care for us. It may not be pretty; it may not be what we had in mind, but in the end, all will be well. Don’t most of us know that when we’re afraid — afraid of losing possessions, afraid of not doing well, afraid of not having enough, afraid of dying, afraid of anything — don’t most of us realize that when we’re afraid, a wonderful part of ourselves is dead? We can’t take risks the same way; we can’t express ourselves the same way; we can’t be creative the same way; we can’t love the same way; we can’t embrace the future the same way. We can’t, because we’re afraid. Deep, deep down, afraid. So we play it safe. We restrict ourselves. We aren’t free, really free, to be who God created us to be. Don’t most of us know that there is so much of us wasted, so much that we could have been or done, so much that we held ourselves back from — still hold ourselves back from — out of fear? There’s a book called Tales from a Magic Monastery full of stories of a magical monastery where the truth is always acted out. This is the story of what happened to one person who went there on retreat:
It is the Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom, but we have so many excuses. Things. Activities. So many excuses, so many fears. Can you take the sword in the story and cut through all your excuses? If you can, God bless you. But it might surprise you to know that I can’t. If I were to tell you that I could cut through all my excuses, I’d have to leave immediately, because if you hung around me, you’d see some of them, and you’d know I had been lying. No, I can’t take that sword and cut through all my excuses in one fell swoop. I wish I could, but even now, I feel the resistance, and I know I can’t. So I’m going to do what I can do. I’m going to take this pocketknife, and I’m going to work on cutting one excuse. And when I finish that, another. Can you think of one thing that is a fear-based excuse for not living the life of absolute freedom God created you to live for God’s glory? Fear of losing things you don’t really need? Fear of not living up to other’s expectations? Fear or not being successful? Fear of dying? Not everything — one thing. Make it as concrete and specific as you can. I know you probably can’t take the sword; I can’t. But can you take this pocketknife and work to cut yourself free from bondage to that one excuse? And then, perhaps another? I hope so. Because it is our Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom.
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