EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

[cappie]

In first-century Palestine, the number of possessions a given person had would be very, very small by comparison to many of us today. A rich man might have a small herd of goats, some farmland, and as many as three or four changes of clothing, and a poor person—then, as now—would be fortunate to have a roof over his head.

Jesus is warning someone who wants a fair share of the family inheritance from his brother that he may be greedy. Jesus is   probably talking about a small herd of animals, a patch of farmland and a house, and a couple of changes of clothing.  

A strict literalist would read this passage and decide to sell everything and give alms to the poor.  And a more metaphorical thinker could read this and argue a way around it. What Jesus really meant is not that we should sell our possessions, but simply that we should love God and our neighbour, and then all will be fine.

Give away everything or give away nothing: can either of those extreme options satisfy us?  But, the really uncomfortable place is in the middle, where we are responsible for figuring out how much to keep, and how much to give away. But this is exactly where Jesus calls us to be.

Somehow, that doesn’t seem fair. Jesus, after all, had the advantage of being God. If he lived his life without sin, well that seems completely explainable. For us, it is more difficult—especially when we need to make the choices ourselves. But, remember, Jesus never says we should try to be exactly like him; he simply invites us to follow him.

At any rate, one thing is clear: the choice is up to us. Every moment, every hour, every day: an opportunity to indulge in greed, to give away everything, or to find the middle way. And,  most of the time, we are confronted with choices that have benefits, but also ramifications and consequences—no matter what decision we make.

That is what it is to live in the middle. To stay away from the seeming safety that can be found by lurking in the margins. Yet living in the middle is what we are called to do, friends. As Christian people, we are called not to be perfect and never make a mistake—but to do the best we are able, recognizing not only our own needs but also those of others.

“Because this very day your life is being demanded of you.”

And there are various ways your life can be demanded. One way your life can be demanded is for you to forfeit it—to give it up. But another way your life can be demanded of you is for you to live it to the fullest.

We are all called to cast away our fear and live instead in faith. To work, pray, and give for the spread of the kingdom of God—which, to be sure, is unrelated to the spread or decrease of our own personal fortune. 

 St. Gregory the Great taught that when we care for the needs of the poor, we are giving them what is theirs, not ours. We are not just performing works of mercy; we are paying a debt of justice. Life does not consist in possessions but in sharing what we possess with others. The goods of the earth have been given to everyone.

So, let us not sell everything we have—nor share only a tiny fraction.
Instead, together we work, pray, and give in order to transform ourselves, our community, our society, and the whole world for the better. Paul’s warning in today’s reading from Colossians reinforces the lesson of the parable. In listing the kinds of conduct that are incompatible with our new life in Christ, he warns especially against ‘greed, which is the same thing as worshipping a false god’. The comparison is a forceful one. The unbalanced pursuit of material things, he says, can take possession of a person, so that their life is built on a lie. Jesus concludes his parable with the same thought: ‘make yourselves rich in the sight of God’ – set your heart on what really matters; recognise what it is that you will take with you into eternal life. For such is the kingdom of God.