Christ Gives Contentment

In Nomine Iesu

Ecc. 2:24-25/Luke 12:15
August 5, 2007
Pentecost 10C/Proper 13

There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?
[Jesus said,] “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Do you know what it sounds like when something gets deflated? You know the sound of your bicycle tire losing air: PSSSSSSSSssssss . . . . That’s what it sounds like when something gets deflated. Let me tell you what it sounds like when a pastor gets deflated: It had been a glorious Sunday morning. The church had been packed. The music and singing had been heavenly. God’s people had been fed and nourished on the Word of God and with the body and blood of Christ. The beauty of the gospel and the promise of the resurrection had rung out loud and clear. It had been heaven on earth. As the service concluded and the pastor made his way out into the narthex, a woman came running up to him, “Pastor! Pastor! Do you know that there’s no toilet paper in the women’s restroom?” PSSSSSSSSSSssssssssss. That’s what we call deflation. And I suspect you know that feeling too.

Jesus also knows just what that feels like. Like the time in today’s Holy Gospel when He was preaching to literally thousands (12:1) of people—so many people that they were trampling one another. Jesus was preaching the kingdom of God—preaching with power, precision and insight—moving the hearts and minds of His hearers to turn from their sin and be embraced by the good news of salvation. When all of a sudden a man in the crowd stands up and yells out at Jesus, “Hey, tell my brother to split the inheritance with me!” (PPPSSSSSSSssssssssssss!) St. Luke doesn’t report it, but I wonder if Jesus sighed at that moment. It was a deflating sentence—the kind of sentence that takes the wind right out of a preacher’s sails.

This wasn’t a question about the kingdom. This wasn’t a question about Jesus or the gospel or even religion in general. It was financial, not spiritual. It reflected greed, not faith. But rather than ignore the question—rather than throw up his hands in despair—Jesus’ preaching takes a detour as He tells a story—the parable of the rich fool.

And what’s so surprising about the rich fool is that—on the surface at least—his actions don’t really seem all that foolish. Please notice that the rich man’s wealth is not ill-gotten. He didn’t get his riches through scheming or stealing or gaming or betting. No, Jesus says that his land “produced plentifully.” The land produced a good harvest—a bumper crop. His wealth came from God. Nor was the plan to built bigger barns an especially foolish plan. Without barns to store it, his crop would pile up on the ground and eventually rot. Nor is there anything foolish with his plan to “relax, eat, drink, and be merry.” Would you have done anything differently if you had been in his shoes?

But God calls the man a “fool.” I wonder why. Well, the text doesn’t say directly, but perhaps it was because the man called the crops “my crops.” Perhaps it’s because he called the barns “my barns.” Perhaps it’s because he called the grain and the goods “my grain and my goods.” The man was a fool because he didn’t acknowledge the God who is the Giver of every good and perfect gift. He simply didn’t make the connection that it’s God who gives clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, wife and children, land, animals, and all we have. He simply couldn’t fathom that all this was done for him only out of fatherly divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or worthiness in him.

It all reminds me of that old story about the farmer who was showing off his well-tended and well-developed property to his pastor. It was one of those immaculate, postcard-quality farms with a big red barn and lush fields and pastures full of livestock. The pastor kept saying things like, “My, you and the Lord have sure done well here,” and “You and the Lord have got quite an operation here.” About the fifth time the pastor used that phrase, the irate farmer finally sputtered, “Now just a doggone minute, preacher. Ya shoulda seen this place when ‘the Lord’ had it all by himself!”

No farmers here today, but we all face that farmer’s temptation—to see our goods and our money and our possessions—not as gifts from the God who loves us—but as trophies of our own achievement. Hear this loud and clear: to be wealthy is not a sin. To build bigger barns is not a sin. But to deny that God is the giver of every good thing we have—or to deny God the portion of our income that He wants us to return to Him—well, that breaks commandment number one. That’s idolatry. It’s placing ourselves and our work and our labor and our toil over and above the grace and love of God in Christ Jesus.

I’m here to tell you that if we’re just working to get more “things” and more “stuff” and a bigger bank account—well, then, we’re just a bunch of rich fools. If we’re never content and satisfied with the good things we already have—well, that’s greed, idolatry, covetousness. King Solomon writes that it’s like “chasing after the wind.” In other words, the chase for more and more and better and better is an endless chase that never satisfies.

What we need is the gift of contentment. “Godliness with contentment is great gain,” the Scriptures say (1 Tim. 6:6). I love the way King Solomon describes contentment in today’s OT reading: “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This . . . I saw is from the hand of God.” Being satisfied with what we have—being content with what God so graciously gives us—that itself is a gift from God. It’s the gift of contentment. Do you have that gift?

There was one man who was perfectly content—a man who found perfect fulfillment in the work He was given to do. His work, He said, was to do the will of the Father. And the work He did, He did for you and for your salvation. As a true man like you, Jesus toiled and labored under the same hot sun that shines down on us on these dog days of summer. With all knowledge, wisdom and skill Jesus set out to do the work His Father had appointed for Him. On Good Friday His work reached its climax. His work on that day was a labor of pain and grief. And all that He accomplished at that place called “Golgotha”—the forgiveness of sins, opening of the kingdom of heaven to all believers—these precious gifts Jesus gives away—gives away to those who follow Him in faith. You didn’t work for it. You didn’t earn it. You don’t deserve it. That’s why we call it “grace.”

In your baptism Jesus filled that empty void inside of you with His Holy Spirit, who daily and richly forgives all your sins. And in place of those sins, Jesus gives you His perfect record of obedience. His perfect work record now belongs to you, and your future is now tied to Christ. “You died,” Paul writes, “and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.” In that resurrection promise you have contentment. You don’t have to run on empty. You don’t have to wear yourself ragged in the rat race of life. You can be content with what you have because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Heb. 13:5).

Jesus Christ gives contentment. His work and His labor give eternal meaning and significance to your life. As a baptized child of God, as one who hears His Word, as one fed and nourished with the body and blood of Jesus—your God is pleased with you for Jesus’ sake. And to the one who pleases Him, God gives wisdom, knowledge, joy and contentment. So let it begin today. Quit chasing after the wind—after bigger and better and more. Be content with what God has given you. Count your blessings instead. Rejoice in your work. And find real contentment in Christ Jesus. Amen.

For the Sake of One

In Nomine Iesu

Genesis 18:20-33

July 29, 2007
Pentecost 9C-Proper 12

Then the Lord said, “Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great and their sin is very grave, I will go down to see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me. . . .” Then Abraham drew near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? . . . . Far be it from you to do such a thing, to put the righteous to death with the wicked, so that the righteous fare with the wicked! Far be that from you!”

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Most people today are fairly ignorant when it comes to the subject of geography. Somewhere back in elementary school we all learned the fifty states and (probably) the state capitals as well. Unfortunately, for many of us, our study of geography never got much further than that.

But the problem gets even worse where the geography of the Bible is concerned—and even worse still when you go all the way back to Genesis. In Genesis we learn, for instance, that Abraham was born in Ur of the Chaldees, and lived much of his life in the city of Haran. In today’s OT reading Abraham is hanging out near the oaks of Mamre. Ur and Haran and Mamre are not places most of us could pinpoint on a map.

But today’s OT reading actually revolves around the fate of two OT towns that I suspect you’ve heard of before—Sodom and Gomorrah. You’ve heard of Sodom and Gomorrah because of the rampant and proverbial wickedness that went on there. At the heart of that wickedness was the sin of homosexual acts—rampant, unbridled, sexual sin. Reading through these chapters of Genesis makes it clear that the problem wasn’t just a handful of folks engaged in an “alternate lifestyle,” but an entire population that lived according to their lusts, squelched all self-control, preyed upon the weak, the helpless, the vulnerable. You’ve heard of Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin, and because of the flaming judgment that the Lord ultimately poured out upon them.

But in between the rampant sin and the flaming judgment, came prayer—the intercessory prayer of faithful Abraham. It’s nothing less than amazing that Abraham chose to pray on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah! Cities of sinners! Dens of depravity! Towns that thumbed their collective noses at God’s natural law, making their residences ripe for destruction. For them . . . Abraham prayed. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, you need to recall that Abraham’s nephew Lot and his family were living in Sodom at this time. But notice that Abraham doesn’t mention them at all in his prayer. Abraham’s petitions are not purely personal. He’s asking for God’s mercy and patience for all the notoriously wicked residents of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Is that what you would have prayed for? After all, Sodom and Gomorrah may be long gone, but our very neighborhoods today are filled with folks who would feel right at home in Sodom and Gomorrah—folks who have no regard for God’s natural law, whose lusts and appetites drive them to depravity, who prey on helpless children, who exploit the weakest and most vulnerable in our world for personal pleasure and greedy gain. When was the last time you prayed for one such person? And was it a prayer for mercy and patience on God’s part, or was it a request to speed up the delivery of fire and brimstone? People like that don’t typically top our list of prayer petitions. But Abraham did not hesitate to bring those sinful souls right before the throne of God. I find that amazing.

I want you to see, as well, the basis for Abraham’s prayer. On what grounds could he justify such an amazing request? He doesn’t base his prayer on his own importance or good works. He doesn’t say, “Well, Lord, since you’ve chosen me to be a great nation, and since you’re going to bless all the nations of the earth through me, I’d like to ask a personal favor.” Not at all. In fact, Abraham couches his request by confessing to the Lord that he’s nothing more than “dust and ashes.” Nor does Abraham pitch his petition by downplaying the sins of these cities. Nowhere does he say, “Well, things aren’t really that bad in Sodom. Fire and brimstone is really uncalled for in this situation.”

No, Abraham bases his request on who the Lord is—on God’s revealed nature and characteristics. Specifically, Abraham knows that God is just. He’s fair. It would be entirely out of character for the Lord to treat the righteous in the very same way He treats the wicked. God isn’t careless and indiscriminate in doing His thing in this world. Abraham knew that. And on that basis Abraham prayed to the Lord with boldness: “Lord, You don’t sweep away the righteous with the wicked. That’s not who You are! Have mercy for the sake of fifty righteous souls—for 45, for 40, for 30, for 20, for ten.”

Now hear this you children of Abraham—you who pray to the same God that Abraham did. Note this well. The Lord never lost his patience with Abraham’s prayers. Never stops him. Never rebukes him. Never says, “That’s enough” or “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Lord is never angry with Abraham as he prays. The Lord listens and answers according to His mercy, grace and love. The gracious God of all listens to His child, Abraham, speak and plead with Him. And God never tires of it. Never.

And He will never tire of hearing you either. He will listen with His divine patience. Because He simply loves to hear from His children. You cannot ask too much or too little. You cannot pray too often. You will not try His patience with your pleading. He will listen. He will answer in His time and in His way.

He will listen to you for the very same reason He listened to Abraham. Abraham, you see, was a man of faith. When God called Abraham at age seventy-five, and when promise after promise came tumbling out of the Lord’s mouth concerning Abraham—including the promise that this childless old man would have descendants more numerous than the stars—Abraham believed the Lord—Abraham had faith—and the Lord credited it to him as righteousness.

Your God is eager to listen to you for the very same reasons. Abraham believed the Lord . . . and you do too. You too trust His promises. Only your belief—your faith—is centered in one particular descendant of Abraham . . . named Jesus. Without Jesus, we couldn’t talk with God in prayer. You don’t talk with God unless there’s peace with God. Jesus brings that peace to you through His cross—through the water of your baptism. Where there is peace with God, there is prayer with God. All the record of all our sin, God has dealt with through Jesus.

Make no mistake, our just and holy God hates sin. He hated the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah. He hates our sins too. He hates our pride and thanklessness. He hates our greed and selfishness. He hates our cursing and lustful thoughts. He hates them just as He hated the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah. Fire and brimstone is what we also rightly deserve.

But for the sake of one—not 50, not 40, 30, 20 or 10, but for the sake of one righteous man—you don’t get what you deserve. For you know full well that there was only one truly righteous man who ever lived. And in mercy God the Father allowed Jesus to be swept away and put to death with the wicked—one on His right, one on His left. All of your trespasses, all of your debt, all of your sins—they were all nailed to the cross of Jesus, set aside by the God who loves you. For the sake of this one man, Jesus, the debt of your sin has been cancelled, because Jesus has paid that debt in full, not with gold or silver, but with His holy precious blood and His innocent suffering and death. Your God did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all. How will He not also graciously give us all things?

He does indeed give us all things—all the things we need, all the good things we can’t do without. He invites you to pray for those things with a promise: “Ask and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and it will be opened to you.” It doesn’t say that we receive exactly what we ask for, nor that we will find the exact thing for which we’re looking. It doesn’t work that way (thank God), and praying harder and believing more won’t change that. God is still God, your heavenly Father. He doesn’t always give what we want. Sometimes He gives better.

St. Paul prayed three times for the Lord to take away the thorn in his flesh. Paul didn’t get that. What he got instead was grace. “My grace is sufficient for you,” was God’s reply. In his weakness, Paul came to know the mighty strength of Jesus Christ. Abraham didn’t save Sodom and Gomorrah from destruction through his amazing prayer. But righteous Lot and his family escaped.

For the sake of one—for the sake of Jesus—your heavenly Father has forgiven all your trespasses and made you alive in Christ forever and ever. For the sake of this One, the just and holy God calls you His child, and He longs and loves to hear from you. Thou art coming to a King, Large petitions with thee bring; For His grace and pow’r are such None can ever ask too much. Amen.