Text:  Luke 12:32-40 (Hebrews 11:1-16)                                                  W 12^th Sunday after Pentecost

Home Is Where the Heart Is

            In the name of Jesus, dear friends in Christ:  Last week when we met for worship, we reflected on a message taught by the Lord Jesus in which he was discussing the proper perspective and priorities of the children of God.  He said that we shouldn’t be so much worried about the ups and downs we face in this life, and whether we will have what we need to ensure that our lives are comfortable and easy.  This world and everything in it is destined to pass away, so there’s no point in trying to establish a lasting sense of security here.  To do so is like hanging wallpaper in a burning building. Instead, he said, we should keep our main focus on the things above, the spiritual things, the things that are eternal because in the end, those are the only things that really matter.

            To illustrate his point, Jesus told the parable of a rich man who had concentrated all of his attention and energy into accumulating a large stockpile of wealth with which, he smugly thought to himself, he would take care of all his needs for the rest of his long, happy, and luxuriously pampered life.  But sadly, with all his focus on providing for the well being of his body in the present, he had neglected the needs of his immortal soul.  It happened that before he could begin to enjoy the life of idle sumptuousness he had imagined, the Lord cut short his days and demanded an accounting not of the vast wealth of which he was so confident, but of his spirit that turned out to be utterly bankrupt.  The Lord called the man a fool, leaving us little doubt concerning his final fate in eternity.  Jesus told this parable to warn his hearers to keep their main focus on the things that matter most – and to leave concerns about the present to God who has promised to provide all things to those who seek first his kingdom and his righteousness.

And that brings us to this morning’s Gospel reading that is a continuation of the same discourse of Jesus on keeping the proper perspective – namely, living in the present with the eyes firmly fixed toward what is to come.  And having laid down the basic principle, Jesus goes on to give some practical advice on how to apply it, first with what should be a Christian’s attitude toward worldly wealth.  He says, “Sell your possessions and give to the poor.  Provide for yourselves purses that are inexhaustible, from which thieves can’t steal nor can moths consume the contents.”

“Sell your possessions and give to the poor.”  I fear that too often we let those words wash over without even getting us a bit damp. It’s like that whole thing about turning the other cheek when someone strikes you, we can’t believe that Jesus really expects us to act the way he’s describing.  But the truth is that he’s very serious.  And I want to be careful that as I unpack that a bit, it doesn’t lose any of its impact. I mean, who here has done that? Sold your possessions in order to give money to provide for the needs of the poor?  And please understand that here Jesus isn’t talking about giving away old clothes that are worn, out of style, that don’t fit any more, or that you no longer have space for in your closet.  He’s not talking about your “generously donated” discards.  Nor is he talking about gifts that you plan to give posthumously – part of an estate that is to be distributed only after you’re positively sure that you can’t use it anymore.  (And please don’t misunderstand me:  I’m not saying that those kinds of giving are wrong – it’s just they’re not the kind of giving that Jesus is talking about here.)  No, Jesus is referring to possessions that have real value that you might otherwise put to work for yourself – but that because of your trust in God and your love for the needy, you are willing to contribute for their benefit.  A good biblical example would be that of Barnabas who to help impoverished and hungry Christians in Jerusalem, sold a piece of real estate he owned and presented the money to the disciples to distribute it as needed.

  Such giving for the needs of others is a response of faith to the Gospel.  Jesus said, “Don’t be afraid, little flock, your Father has chosen to give you the kingdom.”  The point is that it is precisely because you know that you are inheriting an eternal kingdom that your attachment to worldly wealth is rather lose – you’re willing to let it go.  You say to yourself, “I have it now – or rather God has blessed me with this – but I don’t need it as much as this other person.  And I can’t keep it – nor would I want to:  its value will be meaningless compared to what lies in store for me. Why wouldn’t I give it for where it could be helpful now?”  For a person of faith, it only makes sense; but more than that, a person of faith is also motivated by the love for others that Christ gives by his Spirit.  This love causes us to delight in opportunities to share the blessings God gives with those who are in need.

  Now, it’s not my goal here to lay a major guilt trip on you – or then again, I suppose that is part of what I’m up to:  we all need to be confronted by the truth regarding our sins of greed, materialism, and the tendency to trust in riches rather than God.  And for them we need to repent.  Just the same, there are a couple of correctives that should be issued concerning this sort of giving lest we allow Satan to accuse us falsely. First, let it be said that there is nothing wrong with enjoying God’s blessings and the fruit of your labors. That’s one of the reasons God gives them to you:  so that you can use and enjoy them.  The sin here is overdoing it – indulging yourself and neglecting the legitimate needs of others.  Secondly, it should be understood that such giving is to be directed toward a need that exists now, and not one that may exist sometime in the future.  The Lord will see to it that you know when such a need arises.  Until then, hang on to what the Lord has seen fit to make you the manager of.  It’s bad practice for the church to stockpile away wealth in some sort of treasury and then try to play bank.  That isn’t what the church is for.  When it comes to worldly wealth, the church should always be more of a conduit or distributor rather than a holding tank.

And thirdly, when Jesus talks about selling what you have, giving to the poor and thereby acquiring treasures in heaven, he’s not saying that it’s going to earn you a place in the kingdom of God.  That’s what various orders of mendicant monks in the Middle Ages believed.  They thought of riches as evil and so took a vow of poverty, gave away all their possessions, and survived by begging for handouts thinking that by so doing they were pleasing God and effectively climbing the stairway to heaven.  They weren’t. What they were really doing was an offense to God for two reasons:  first, by making themselves an unnecessary burden on hard working people who earned their money honestly.  Riches in and of themselves are not evil.   We aren’t called upon to stop earning money or to share what’s required to cover our basic needs.   God would have us give to others from the abundance with which he blesses us.  The other problem with the mendicant monks was of course the whole notion of works righteousness:  thinking that their initial generosity and subsequent self-imposed poverty earned them God’s grace.  This is a most unchristian idea.  We inherit the kingdom of God by faith in Christ and what he did for us when he suffered and died for our sin.  Again, our giving is a response to the fact that for Christ’s sake the Father has already chosen us and given us the kingdom.  Our giving is tangible evidence that we believe it.

And believe it we can. So much so that Jesus invites us to live in the present with a sense of eager expectation for what lies ahead. This he illustrates by giving us the example of some household servants whose master has gone away to attend a wedding celebration.  In the time that Jesus spoke these words, such wedding celebrations could be long, drawn out affairs lasting many hours or even several days.  The servants have been charged to be prepared for their master’s return, to be ready to attend him whenever he comes – which in a relative sense is soon, but precisely when is anybody’s guess.  And that’s point:  soon but it might be a little while.  And please understand that Jesus isn’t here specifically announcing the time of his return to usher us into the kingdom, instead he’s describing what our attitude about living in the present should be.  At any moment the knock at the door may come, so be ready:  dressed for service and lamp trimmed and lit.  The picture is that of the servants leaning forward in their seats, ready to serve the master – and consequently not so much worried about feathering their own nests, so to speak.  That’s to be our attitude in the here and now.

    And I can’t help but think that the image he uses is designed to convey the idea of spiritual preparedness.  To be dressed for service we need to be clothed with Christ and his righteousness. It’s a baptismal image that we renew through daily repentance and forgiveness.  And the lit and burning lamp is often a biblical picture of faith, like when the Spirit showed his presence upon the believers at Pentecost with flames of fire that appeared on their heads.  It’s the light of faith and the illumination of the Spirit that we are to keep burning through the continued reading and hearing of God’s Word – as the Scriptures say, “Faith comes by hearing the Word of God.”

But the most remarkable thing about this illustration Jesus uses is the way the master acts when he comes home.  He is so well pleased with his servants for faithfully watching and waiting that instead of letting them attend him as they’ve been preparing to do, he does what no master in those days would ever dream of:  he has them relax while he serves them supper.  It’s the exact opposite of what we would expect.  But then again, at risk of going too far off subject, the master’s behavior is not so unusual after all – at least it shouldn’t be to us.  It is, after all, precisely what he does here each week.  We, his servants, prepare for his coming by showing up here to meet him. And each week he comes to serve us. Here he clothes us again in his righteousness when he proclaims our sins forgiven, and here by his instruction he puts oil in our lamps so that faith continues to burn.  Oddly enough it’s his continuing service to us in the present that keeps us prepared for his final return.

Still, it’s not always easy maintaining a perpetual state of preparedness.  As the master delays his return, the servants are likely to become frustrated, sleepy, and maybe disenchanted.  How are we to remain alert and ready over the long watches of the night? To answer this, the Scriptures for this morning give us example of Abraham. His is an interesting story. When he was a young man, he joined his father and brother on the adventure of a lifetime.  They left the land of their birth, Ur of the Chaldees, where there was culture and civilization, and they traveled several hundred miles up the Euphrates River Valley – the frontier of the day.  There they built something of a small empire for themselves in a place called Haran.  There’s a real close parallel between what they did to some of the big names of American West, guys like John Chisum who traveled half way across the continent to build a ranching empire in the Southwest.  Anyway, in Haran, Abraham and his extended family put down roots. They built themselves nice houses and barns and servants’ quarters … they had a great thing going.  And then, after they’d lived there for a long time … Abraham was seventy five years old, probably thinking about slowing down and retiring … along comes the Lord and says, “Time to get moving Abraham.  I want you to leave all this behind and go to a new land I’m going to show you.  There I will make you into a great nation.”

Now, put yourself in Abraham’s sandals.  He’s spent the last fifty or more years investing his blood, sweat, toil, and tears into making this place his home.  He likes it lot.  He’s well satisfied with a lifetime of work, and he’s ready to sit back and enjoy it.  On top of it, he’s old, he’s tired, and the last thing he needs is another major adventure. Oh, and he and his old wife are childless, so that promise of becoming a great nation with descendants as countless as the stars seems to be totally beyond reach.

But what does Abraham do? Against what he sees, against what makes sense, and against the natural inclination of his tired, old frame, he believes the promise of the Lord.  And because he believes, he acts in accordance with what he believes.  He packs up his belongings, the ones he can carry anyway, he leaves his extended family, and he moves west, up over the mountains and across the desert, to where?  “God only knows; but he’ll tell me when I get there.”  Funny thing is that never again does Abraham get to put down roots and build a house.  He spends the next seventy-five years – another entire lifetime – as a nomad who dwells in a tent.  As a matter of fact, the only piece of property he ever owns again is the cave in which he buries his wife, and in which he himself is ultimately buried. So much for the promise of the land he was to receive.  And his descendants?  Well, he does indeed become the father of one son, Isaac, by God’s miraculous intervention; and he lives long enough to see his two grandsons – so a total of three, which you have to admit, comes up substantially short of “countless as the stars”.

            And so you might think that Abraham would have been profoundly disappointed not to have witnessed the promises that God made to him come true.  But that’s not the way it was.  Instead, from the time God called him and made the promises, Abraham recognized that his true home was above – and that’s where his heart was.  And so he lived as a stranger and a pilgrim on earth, not having received the promised blessings; but rather seeing them from afar by faith.  This faith, we are told, the Lord counted to him as righteousness. And by such faith we too are counted righteous before God for the sake of his Son as we too wait for all the promises to be fulfilled.

            Sometimes people will say, “If only I had known then what I know now, I would have done things entirely different.” And this is the point:  if your heart is on your home above, like Abraham’s was, then you can see by faith the present from that perspective.  And because you believe that your true treasure and true home are above, you are enabled to act in the present with that knowledge.  Then all the struggles, the ups and downs, the disappointments, the material concerns, as important as they can sometimes seem to be, can be assigned their proper place and priority.  Sure, they need to be attended – but they’re nothing to get wrapped up in too deeply. The promise of God remains regardless of what we have or own, or where we live, or whom we live with, or what losses we suffer.  Like the great hymn of the Reformation goes:   “and take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife; let them all be gone; they yet have nothing won.  The kingdom ours remaineth.”  Therefore we do not fear.  For the sake of his Son who died for us, the Father has chosen to give us the kingdom. It’s ours.  May our hearts rest now in that eternal home so that we live in the present accordingly.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!