University
Congregational United
“I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly” -John 10:10b
I
know whenever there is a scripture passage about sheep when I am preaching, there is also the expectation of sheep
stories. This morning actually I am not
going to say too much about sheep, except that as I put this sermon together, I
wondered, “What do sheep think of sin?”
If asked, would a sheep say that sin is about fear, or about greed? When I see the craziness that comes over
sheep when they are afraid, I imagine fear is a big factor in poor choices made
by sheep. But I also know the craziness
that comes over them when I through a bucket of grain on the ground, and in
their greed sheep shove aside even their own lambs to get as much of that grain
as they can. Pure, crazy sheep greed.
All
of that brings me to this. When I was
fairly new at this church, I preached a sermon about sin. Well, actually I preached a sermon about
fear, which I argued was the basis for all the crazy things we do which
separate us from God and from each other and from the living of life. I thought the sermon went well, and I thought
my premise was pretty strong. Then about
halfway into the next week I got an email from Ed Wenk. Those of you who know Ed know he is a
brilliant and thoughtful person, who is not afraid to take on “the
preacher.” He argued with me, saying
that in my rush to tie up the ends of sin as “fear based,” I had not given
enough credit to human greed as a foundation for craziness.
Our emails went back and forth on the topic, with me suggesting that even under greed, if you scratch enough, there is fear, and him arguing that greed does not need anything under it, thank you, it is strong enough to support craziness all on its own.
So here I am this morning to give Ed Wenk his due, and to look squarely at greed. “Do not steal,” the eighth commandment tells us. Of course as soon as I hear those words, I remember my own childhood stealing. I know there are some children who actually make it through their growing years without stealing, but I was not one of them. When I was in grade school, I was at a friend’s house and I saw some toy that was so much fun, that I wanted it. So I took it, and took it home. I put it in my drawer so no one would find it, and of course where I could not play with it. And then I lied to my mom when my friend’s mom called about the toy. Interesting that I cannot even remember the toy, but I remember the event. So why did I take that toy? What was at the heart of that craziness that took me over? Was it fear? Nope, it was greed. I wanted the toy and I took it.
You’d think the shame of that event would have cured me from my stealing, but it did not. Not too long after the toy incident I was in a store and saw a little address book that I wanted. I don’t know what I thought I needed it for. I didn’t write letters, all the phone numbers I needed were written on the side of the cupboard by our phone. But I liked the way it looked and I wanted it, so I took it. And what was at the heart of that? Was it fear? Nope. Greed again.
Of course I couldn’t use the sweet little address book I had so cleverly taken. That would bring on too many questions. Into the drawer it went. This time there was no phone call and no one caught me. This time I was left on my own to experience the punishment that comes with stealing. Not the parental voice and the shame of being caught, but the real punishment of greed: the alienation from other people, and ultimately from myself, the secret keeping, the breaking of connection, the loss of open relationships. I was miserable. Eventually I took the address book from the drawer and threw it away. I learned a hard lesson that time. I learned that stealing always takes away more than is gained. Always.
“Do not steal,” the eighth commandment tells us, and then leaves us to figure out all the nuances of what that means. Of course my childhood stories about stealing are just that: childhood stories. And although I know not everybody does, it is not too hard to outgrow childhood stealing. Most of us have a few painful memories that have left us convinced: taking things that do not belong to us is not a good idea. But as important as such learning is, I believe the deeper call of the eighth commandment is to something beyond a personal piety.
There is a little saying in the Book of Proverbs that puts this personal struggle in perspective:
“Give me neither poverty or riches, but give me only my daily bread.
Otherwise, I may have too much, and deny you and say, ‘Who is my God?’
or I shall be poor, and steal, and dishonor your name.” (Proverbs 30:8-9)
This speaker understands the temptations of both sides of the eighth commandment, and most especially the reality that in times of genuine need, the temptation to steal is a different kind of temptation than the one most of us, who already have more than we need, face.
Which brings us again to the greed side of the discussion. Because we live in an age of greed, in a time when folks say that greed is good. The issue for many in our culture is not, “Don’t steal,” but rather, “When you do steal, take enough to make it worthwhile, and don’t get caught.” And that is assuming that we recognize our actions as stealing in the first place. Chris Hedges, the author of Losing Moses on the Freeway, that book so many of us have been reading through this year, says that each of us has a commandment that particularly calls to us. I would change that slightly and say that each commandment calls to us and our culture in unique ways. And this one, “Don’t steal,” seems to call to us in the rich world in some very specific ways.
In the novel The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini’s amazing story about life in Afghanistan as the Taliban came to power, the child Amir talks to his father about sin:
When I was in fifth grade, we had a mullah who taught us about Islam. . . . He . . . made us memorize verses from the Koran- and though he never did translate the words for us, he did stress, at times with the help of a stripped willow branch, that we had to pronounce the Arabic words correctly so God would hear us better. He told us one day that Islam considered drinking a terrible sin; those who drank would answer for their sin on . . . Judgment Day. . . .
We were upstairs in Baba’s study, . . . when I told him. . . . He was pouring himself a whiskey from the bar. . . . He listened, nodded, took a sip from the drink. Then he lowered himself into the leather sofa, put down the drink, and propped me up on his lap. I felt as if I was sitting on a pair of tree trunks. . . . I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to hug him or leap from his lap in mortal fear.
“I see you’ve confused what you’re learning in school with actual education,” he said in his thick voice. . . . . “Do you want to know what your father thinks about sin? . . . . Now, no matter what the mullah teaches, there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft. . . . When you kill a man, you steal a life. . . . You steal his wife’s right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you lie, you steal someone’s right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. . . There is no act more wretched than stealing, Amir.” (pp. 16-18)
Then, in subtle and surprising ways the rest of the story unfolds, telling us how Amir stole from others, and the brutal ways in which he was robbed.
Look again at our story from Jesus, the good shepherd. He points out that there are two ways in to the sheepfold. Some come in by the gate, in and out, and find good pasture. But other ones- thieves and bandits- climb over the wall with only one purpose- to steal and to destroy. And throughout the gospels Jesus makes it clear which kind of thieves he is concerned about. He drives the profiteers from the temple, condemning them for turning a house of prayer into a den of thieves. He blasts those who are using other’s fear to feed their own greed. He stands against a political and a religious order that maximizes injustice for the sake of maximizing fortunes.
When Jesus speaks of being the good shepherd, he is speaking directly in the tradition of the prophets, who condemned the shepherding of religious and political leaders who counted on the vulnerability of the sheep as a way of amassing their own wealth and power. Listen to these words from the Book of Ezekiel:
Prophesy against the shepherds of
So when Jesus speaks of those who climb over the wall to steal, he might have in mind those leaders who use their power to continue to fatten themselves, while the sheep go hungry.
And when Jesus speaks of being the good shepherd, he is also speaking in the context of the healing that just happened in the precious chapter. Sit down and read the ninth chapter of John some time all the way through. It is the story of a man born blind, whose difficult life situation became, for some, a theological argument. He was, in the eyes of the so-called religious authorities, a person to be rejected and condemned for no reason other than that he did not fit their neat religious categories. But in the way we have come to expect in the gospels, this blind man’s life became, through an encounter with Jesus, a place where God’s glory and grace would shine.
And then Jesus brings up this talk of shepherds and of thieves. The system of thievery is what Jesus is condemning. It is a system that marginalizes the have-nots while fattening the “haves.” It is a system that leaves people alienated and numb, disconnected and suspicious. And the system of thievery is the system in which we live. We see it in all the ways companies work to steal from their workers and customers to maximize profits for their highest paid executives. We see it in the way our national budget cuts benefits for the poorest among us, only to award outrageously wasteful contracts to the richest of their friends. We see it in the way our children’s futures are being sold to subsidize a national security policy run amok. In such places, this commandment must be spoken. “Do not steal.”
And the system of thievery that steals God, building a fence and claiming God as exclusive property is also what Jesus is speaking against. That is a system that strains the gnats and swallows the camels, that reduces the power of faith to a list of simple platitudes and pieties, giving a person the illusion of security by taming God, all the while ignoring, as C.S. Lewis points out, the fact that God refuses to be tamed, and ignoring God’s roaring call is to justice, which feeds the hungry and gives shelter to the homeless, which provides sanctuary for the outcast and healing for the wounded. And this system of thievery is also a system in which we live. The self-satisfied narrowness with which popular religion in the United States defines morality, imagining that God is more concerned about how people love than about the systems of hate that are becoming institutionalized around us, is thievery. Even our own denomination feels it, when we take a hit for affirming marriage rights for all, facing the scorn of those who would reserve religion for those they consider “pure,” a scorn that can sometimes just wear people down. Such thievery, such brutality in the name of Jesus, just like other kinds of stealing, also leaves people alienated and numb, disconnected and suspicious. Someone has stolen Jesus, and I want to reclaim him. In such places, this commandment must be spoken. “Do not steal.”
Now let me speak personally
for a minute or two. Next Sunday, Jeff
Coleman, Bekah Tinker and I
are getting on our bicycles and riding south, planning to arrive in
As people who are joyfully and unapologetically Christian, we pledge ourselves completely to the way of Love. We work to express our love, as Jesus teaches us, in three ways: by loving God, neighbor and self.
(These three loves include)
Walking fully in the path of Jesus without denying the legitimacy of other paths
Celebrating the God whose spirit pervades . . .all of creation, including the earth and its ecosystems, the sacred and the secular, the Christian and the non-Christian, the human and the non-human
Engaging people authentically, as Jesus did, treating all as creations made in God’s image, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, age, physical of mental ability, nationality or economic class;
Standing, as Jesus does with the outcast and the oppressed, the denigrated and the afflicted, seeking peace and justice
Walking humble with God, honestly seeking to understand and call forth the best in others, including those who consider us their enemies.
Basing our lives on the faith that in Christ all things are made new and we, and all people, are loved beyond our wildest imaginations- for eternity.
Acting with faith that we are born with a meaning and purpose, a vocation and a ministry that serves to strengthen and extend God’s realm of love.
I am excited about this ride and this walk because these words of love and welcome and joy must be spoken in the face of a culture of thievery.
In the conclusion of Jesus’ story of the shepherd he says this: “The thief comes only to steal and destroy. I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” And here we find our resting place. Here we thieves or victims hear a shepherd’s voice that calls us to healing and to strength. Here is God’s intention for us, Jesus says. Abundant life, not stolen moments, but abundant life, all you need, a life of connection and joy and deep, genuine peace. Without greed. Without fear. Lived by the grace of God.
Amen