October 19, 2008 - "Holding Lightly: A Theology of Enough"

Crescent Hill Baptist Church
Louisville, Kentucky
Pentecost 23
October 19, 2008
W. Gregory Pope

SERIES: The New Monasticism

HOLDING LIGHTLY: A THEOLOGY OF ENOUGH

Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22

Wayne Ward announced at our noon Bible Study class last Wednesday: “Pastor, I’m doing well with my vow of celibacy!” I don’t know if it was our discussion on rest or the sexuality of Jesus that prompted the remark.

I congratulated him and told him that this Sunday he would be given the opportunity to take a vow of poverty. But I quickly corrected myself and said, “What am I thinking, Wayne? You lived your life as a seminary professor. You took the vow of poverty a long time ago.”

I have heard several interesting remarks from you this fall as we have taken a look into monastic spirituality.

David Cook asked me a few weeks ago, “How’s life in the hood?” referring to the hood on my alb.

Others have wondered when I was going to wear the hood. Which caused others to fear I might then look like a member of the klan.

Someone asked me last Sunday if they should call me “monk” or “brother.” I said I was actually trying to serve as abbot. They said that didn’t sound too humble. And I said, “Well, I’ve been a pope all my life. As I see it, I’ve taken three steps down past cardinal and bishop in order to become an abbot, so I think that’s quite a humble move!

John Birkimer told me how the Solidarity Sunday School Class has been studying the monastic tradition this fall. He said he has actually read The Rule of Benedict and he noted that the qualifications for abbot are quite high. And they are. I told him not to take The Rule too literally. John can be so literal when it comes to matters of faith.

Today we are reflecting upon our relationship with money and possessions through the lens of scripture and how monasticism has embodied scripture in its practice of ownership.

This is the time of year when we consider our financial commitments to the church’s ministry and our life together. You are encouraged to bring your pledge card to worship next week, preferably filled out, and place it in the offering plate as an act of worship. If you need help filling it out, call me.

This season of commitment is not just about how much money we will give to the church next year, but is a time when we all are given the opportunity to reflect upon our priorities as they relate to money and possessions.

It is no secret that we are in a time of global economic turmoil. One might think it a terrible time to make pledges, but I think the opposite may be true. In times like these we are almost forced to evaluate our relationship with money and possessions. As people of faith it can be a time for us to step back from our culture’s message regarding money and possessions and see what scripture has to say about them. When things are going well, we usually don’t think about the differences in the messages between culture and scripture. When things are not going so well, we are often led to think and reflect and pray more about our lives and our priorities.

Paul begins his letter to the Thessalonians thanking them for their partnership in Paul’s ministry, which no doubt included financial help. He also spoke of their turning away from gods, which scripture often does. And it may be that in these days we are being called to turn from the gods of materialism and capitalism and financial idolatry, making sure our trust is not in Wall Street or the government but in the God who calls us to live together in a global community characterized by simplicity and generosity.

In our culture of over-consumption and greed I think we are being called to “a theology of enough.”

It is a theology that calls us to realize there is enough for everyone. And everyone receives enough when we share what we have with others.

It is a theology that calls us to realize that we have enough and we have to curb our collection of things and stop living beyond our means, borrowing more than we will ever be able to pay back.

It is an important word for us in a day when greed is no longer considered a deadly sin but a virtue. Perhaps we are rethinking that these days as we see where unchecked greed has gotten us.

Did you see this week that our national debt in excess of ten trillion dollars is so large it would require $86,000 per household to pay back! We have become an over-indulgent nation living beyond our means. We have lost a sense of enough.

We need to be reminded that growth in productivity and economy is not an inherent virtue. We live in a world of limited resources, and it is foolish for us to live as if it were otherwise.

Benedict writes in chapter 39 of his Rule: Nothing is so inconsistent with the life of any Christian as overindulgence. The Rule of Benedict devotes itself to the virtue of moderation. We are called to simplicity of lifestyle and generosity of heart, engaging in compassionate sharing with the needy of the world. Benedict calls us to remember that in that early Christian community, “Distribution was made as each had need” (Acts 4:35).

There are two words I want us to consider for a moment. They are likely not your favorite two words. But they are central to the gospel and monastic life. The first is renunciation. The second is detachment.

First, renunciation: the giving up of things. Not a popular word or activity in American culture. But at the heart of renunciation is giving things up in order to gain something greater. It’s about holding on to nothing beyond the necessary. [1] Renunciation in itself is not holy, but it creates a necessary space where the holiness of God can dwell and can reorder our lives.

Related to renunciation is the word detachment. Material things can be accepted as gifts of God, but they are also to be regarded with detachment. It is wrong to value or enjoy things, but we must not cling to them or guard them with our lives.

Benedict says that material things are sacramental. They are symbols that reveal the beauty and the goodness of their creator. Benedict says the monk will regard all utensils and goods of the monastery as sacred vessels of the altar. His is a very down-to-earth spirituality. There is no escape here into some interior spiritual life disconnected from the world.” [2]

But there must be a separation between who we are and what we possess.

I would call it “responsible ownership,” which is a common ownership

Benedict’s understanding of poverty was not like that of St. Francis. It was not a giving up of all things. In fact, poverty is not undertaken as one of the Benedictine vows. Benedict understood poverty as the common ownership of all things. By entering the monastery you are vowing to share with the community. Martin Luther said that goods are not goods unless they can be shared.

Benedict says that each monk is to receive all things that are necessary, but no private ownership. Private ownership was to be relinquished and every possession regarded as gift, received in order to be shared with others. No one owns anything privately; all is on temporary loan. And the reason is because community breaks down when “mine” replaces “ours.” [3]

Deprivation is not a Benedictine ideal. On the contrary, the point of Benedictine life is to live simply, joyfully, and fully. Benedict wants the monastic to have enough, to have it from the community and to avoid hoarding, accumulating, consuming, and conniving. [4]

Benedictine monks do “possess” their own clothes, alarm clocks, books, and other stuff. But they do so as a steward. In other words, the community is to benefit from what the monk has as his own. One group of nuns writes their names in their books, preceded by the phrase “for the use of.” Perhaps that is an invisible stamp we should put on all our possessions: a house, a car, a book, clothing. [5]

I think it’s stamped on the front of Glen Bellou’s truck. Glen’s story is shared in Accent, the missions material for CBF this Fall. Glen’s truck is used almost daily to take people to the doctor, to move furniture for someone, and to even make trips for a handful of people who have recently moved to South Dakota. Glen would have made Benedict proud!

Monasteries own cars that can be checked out for use. Perhaps we could do the same. Not just with cars but with other things - to hold them in common - items we need occasionally but do not need to own - things that we only use once or twice a year, we could share them with each other. My wife has a few tools at home in her tool box that I’m sure she would be willing to share and some she would like to borrow as she fixes things around the house.

Common ownership is a way of saying we are only stewards of all that we have. It all belongs to God and is meant to be shared. That is why we give a portion of our money to a common collection: to acknowledge that all we have belongs to God and together we can do more for others than we can do alone.

There is such a thing as responsible ownership - if we “hold lightly” what we own [6] and make all things available to any person in need. The Rule teaches us to cling to nothing, to hold everything - even the best of holy things - with a relaxed grasp. [7]

We are taught in our culture to think that to privately own our possessions and to do what we want with what we have is the defining mark of our freedom. Richard Rohr reminds us that saying no to yourself is the beginning of freedom. It is slavery to be driven by our need to possess, which in turn makes us anxious about protecting what is ours.

John Skinner says monasticism is not a removal from the world, but is instead about a separation from that which divides us - separation from wealth, from status, from exclusive relationships. [8]

St. Francis urged his brothers to rid themselves of land or possessions seeing that it only divided. Possessions are often the causes of disputes and sometimes violence. If we owned them we would be obliged to carry arms to defend them - and to do that would hinder us in loving God and our neighbor. Are there things that you hold on to and cherish that divide you from others? What things, what possessions, do we allow to get in the way of our love for God and those around us? [9] When those very things can be used and given to express our love for God and those around us.

Donald Nicholl says: “Once we realize that we own absolutely nothing . . . a weight is lifted from us and our hearts grow lighter . . . at least we have made a true beginning when we can gaze around at all the possessions, qualities and capacities that are supposed to be ours and recognize that they do not really belong to us.” [10]

In our gospel lesson for today we encounter a conversation that we are told is meant to trap Jesus. He is asked if God’s people should pay taxes to the emperor. Saying yes to taxes is never popular, especially when given to an oppressive emperor like Caesar. Saying no to taxes would make him guilty of treason for which he could be prosecuted. Jesus confounds them and confounds us with his response. After taking a coin in his hand with Caesar’s image upon it, he says, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and give to God what is God’s.”

This text has been used to justify the notion that faith in God has nothing to do with politics. But a closer reading of the text and of scripture as a whole, particularly the prophets, reveals that God calls governments to justice and compassion and peace and dignity for all persons.

Caesar’s coin bears the image of Caesar and so belongs to Caesar. Human beings, on the other hand, bear the image of God and so belong to God. We may pay taxes but we do not belong to the government. We are all God’s children, bearers of the divine image, and therefore belong to God. Our ultimate allegiance is not to race, nation, or political party. All that we are and all that we have belongs to God.

That is what monasticism seeks to remind us when it calls us to share all that we have with one another. Because ultimately nothing belongs to us. It all belongs to God and is to be used for God’s purposes.

Dennis Okholm tells of the time several years ago when Apple began producing personal computers. He said, “One day while a friend prepared a meal for me in her kitchen I was raving about the features of the latest Mac that I coveted. Finally she stopped peeling potatoes, looked up, and asked, ‘And how will this serve the kingdom of God?’ I never purchased that computer and I thanked her for her gentle reminder.” [11]

Monasticism calls us to a virtuous poverty that has one asking again and again throughout life: Do I really need this? Is more really better? [12] And how can I use what has been given me to serve the kingdom of God?

Monasticism calls us to heart of Christian discipleship, which is, in the words of Abba Antony from the third century: to prefer nothing in the world above the love of Christ. To hold lightly to what we’ve been given and in gratitude to God live simply and generously.

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1. Linus Mundy, A Retreat with Benedict and Bernard: Seeking God Alone - Together, St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1998, 82
2. Esther de Waal, Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict, Liturgical Press, 2001, 104
3. Elizabeth Canham, Heart Whispers: Benedictine Wisdom For Today, Abingdon, 1999, 42-43
4. Joan Chittister, The Rule of Benedict: Insights For the Ages, Crossroad, 1992, 147
5. Dennis Okholm, Monk Habits For Everyday People: Benedictine Spirituality for Protestants, Brazos, 2008, 46-47
6. Lonni Collins Pratt and Father Daniel Holman, Benedict’s Way: An Ancient Monk’s Insights For a Balanced Life, Loyola Press, 2000, 103
7. Joan Chittister, Wisdom Distilled From the Daily, HarperOne, 1991, 163
8. Andy Freeman and Pete Greig, Punk Monk: New Monasticism and the Ancient Art of Breathing, Regal, 2007, 111
9. Freeman and Greig, 111
10. As quoted in LC, 73
11. Okholm, 52
12. Mundy, 89-90