What Price Contentment?
Sermon
Those who tuned in to "Songs of Praise" on the Sunday following the American disaster, would have heard the Dean of Westminster Abbey, Dr. Wesley Carr, describe a young man who should have flown to New York on that fateful Tuesday, to begin a new job in the World Trade Centre. The young man rang his new boss at nine in the morning American time, but the conversation was suddenly disrupted by a loud explosion, followed by screams. Then the phone went dead. In that microsecond, the young man lost his new boss, his new job and the entire new firm.
That's only one of many tales of woe, but I imagine what has remained with that young man is not the disappointment of losing his job before he'd even begun it, but the horror of so many lives being wiped out. In the immediate aftermath of the disaster, New York ground to a virtual halt for several days, and when the President called for a return to work, it wasn't so much to get business on its feet again, as to try to give people some sense of normality and purpose. Few were concerned with money or work or business or finance, only with life and the horrendous loss of life.
When the chips are down and we come face to face with our own mortality and the fragility of life, our priorities begin to look very different. While life is sailing along reasonably happily, money and material possessions often tend to occupy human thoughts, but when disaster strikes, money and material posessions are seen more clearly as the relatively unimportant, empty things they really are. There are more important things to fight for than a bigger bank balance.
The writer of the letter to Timothy says we should fight the good fight, and he spells out what that means. It means godliness combined with contentment, by pursuing right thought and right ways of living, faith in God, endurance when things don't go exactly as we would wish them to go, and learning to love other people. All of that's a tall order at the best of times, but to make it even more difficult, this path has to be followed with gentleness.
When there haven't been huge national disasters perpetrated by evil people, it's not so bad. When life is comfortable it becomes possible in a vague kind of way to regard other people benevolently, to have faith in God, to endure the usual ups and downs of life, and to be relatively content. But when thousands of people have been killed in terrifying and completely unexpected attacks, the Christian faith is nothing like so easy. Almost all the words in the Bible take on new and deeper meaning. "Deliver us from evil" suddenly begins to sound important, and words like "endurance" and "faith" and "love" and "gentleness" are really tested.
In fact, those qualities of love, faith, gentleness and endurance need to have been actively sought and nurtured over the years if they're to be even possible in times of crisis. No-one who has only been paying lip-service to Christianity, will find those Christian qualities in times of crisis, for it's just about impossible to hang onto faith in the face of massive evil if Christian qualities haven't grown within over the years.
The early Christians lived in times of crisis, when they were persecuted for their faith and often in considerable personal danger, so the writer to Timothy knew all about times of crisis. If the letters were written by Paul they must have been written between the end of his first imprisonment in Rome and his execution under Nero, so at a time of danger and persecution for Paul. If, as many scholars now believe, they weren't written by Paul but by someone who followed his ways and his teaching, they may have been written as late as the second century, by which time simply to be a Christian could be a capital offence. Hence the background of fear and anxiety and danger was similar to our immediate background of the last few weeks, and the words of wisdom spoken in the letter are just as relevant today as they were when they were written.
The writer urges his readers to fight the good fight of the faith, for that's the only path to eternal life. And he warns against the corroding power of wealth. "Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction," he says. "For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains." One of the problems with the love of money and all that it can buy is that its effect is insidious. Although those who desire wealth pierce themselves with many pains, they quite often aren't immediately aware of those pains. While they're busy enjoying the good life, they aren't immediately aware that they're wandering away from God and from the Christian path, or that they're trapped by senseless and harmful desires that plunge them into ruin and destruction. All of that only becomes apparent much later, usually at the point of crisis when it's too late. In today's gospel reading, Jesus told the story of the rich man and the beggar whom the rich man scarcely noticed. When the rich man did eventually notice the beggar, it was too late, for the rich man's point of crisis came after death.
It's relatively easy to be a nominal Christian. That is, to make the right sounds and to turn up to the right functions and to give relatively generously when the occasion demands it. But unless all of that comes from the heart, when the chips are down there'll be nothing there. No inner strength, and no chance of exercising love and gentleness especially upon perceived "enemies". When the chips are down, the cries from nominal Christians are for revenge rather than for justice, and are cried with hate rather than with love.
Jesus recognised the particular temptations faced by the wealthy when he said, "Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," (Luke 18:25 ) but at no point does either Jesus or the writer of the letter to Timothy say that wealth in itself is wrong. The writer to Timothy recognises that the wealthy can be not only good people, but can also do a great deal of good with their wealth. He says, "As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life."
It's a question of priorities. Those who love money so much that money is their top priority will find an inner emptiness when the chips are down, with the sudden realisation that their life has been wasted seeking that which can never fulfill inner needs. Those who are ready and willing to give up everything for Christ, will find they gain everything and are filled with inner satisfaction and the strength needed for crisis situations.
For as Jesus said, "Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?" (Luke 9:24-25). And as the writer to Timothy so pointedly remarked, "We brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it." When the chips are down, it's only God that matters.
That's only one of many tales of woe, but I imagine what has remained with that young man is not the disappointment of losing his job before he'd even begun it, but the horror of so many lives being wiped out. In the immediate aftermath of the disaster, New York ground to a virtual halt for several days, and when the President called for a return to work, it wasn't so much to get business on its feet again, as to try to give people some sense of normality and purpose. Few were concerned with money or work or business or finance, only with life and the horrendous loss of life.
When the chips are down and we come face to face with our own mortality and the fragility of life, our priorities begin to look very different. While life is sailing along reasonably happily, money and material possessions often tend to occupy human thoughts, but when disaster strikes, money and material posessions are seen more clearly as the relatively unimportant, empty things they really are. There are more important things to fight for than a bigger bank balance.
The writer of the letter to Timothy says we should fight the good fight, and he spells out what that means. It means godliness combined with contentment, by pursuing right thought and right ways of living, faith in God, endurance when things don't go exactly as we would wish them to go, and learning to love other people. All of that's a tall order at the best of times, but to make it even more difficult, this path has to be followed with gentleness.
When there haven't been huge national disasters perpetrated by evil people, it's not so bad. When life is comfortable it becomes possible in a vague kind of way to regard other people benevolently, to have faith in God, to endure the usual ups and downs of life, and to be relatively content. But when thousands of people have been killed in terrifying and completely unexpected attacks, the Christian faith is nothing like so easy. Almost all the words in the Bible take on new and deeper meaning. "Deliver us from evil" suddenly begins to sound important, and words like "endurance" and "faith" and "love" and "gentleness" are really tested.
In fact, those qualities of love, faith, gentleness and endurance need to have been actively sought and nurtured over the years if they're to be even possible in times of crisis. No-one who has only been paying lip-service to Christianity, will find those Christian qualities in times of crisis, for it's just about impossible to hang onto faith in the face of massive evil if Christian qualities haven't grown within over the years.
The early Christians lived in times of crisis, when they were persecuted for their faith and often in considerable personal danger, so the writer to Timothy knew all about times of crisis. If the letters were written by Paul they must have been written between the end of his first imprisonment in Rome and his execution under Nero, so at a time of danger and persecution for Paul. If, as many scholars now believe, they weren't written by Paul but by someone who followed his ways and his teaching, they may have been written as late as the second century, by which time simply to be a Christian could be a capital offence. Hence the background of fear and anxiety and danger was similar to our immediate background of the last few weeks, and the words of wisdom spoken in the letter are just as relevant today as they were when they were written.
The writer urges his readers to fight the good fight of the faith, for that's the only path to eternal life. And he warns against the corroding power of wealth. "Those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction," he says. "For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains." One of the problems with the love of money and all that it can buy is that its effect is insidious. Although those who desire wealth pierce themselves with many pains, they quite often aren't immediately aware of those pains. While they're busy enjoying the good life, they aren't immediately aware that they're wandering away from God and from the Christian path, or that they're trapped by senseless and harmful desires that plunge them into ruin and destruction. All of that only becomes apparent much later, usually at the point of crisis when it's too late. In today's gospel reading, Jesus told the story of the rich man and the beggar whom the rich man scarcely noticed. When the rich man did eventually notice the beggar, it was too late, for the rich man's point of crisis came after death.
It's relatively easy to be a nominal Christian. That is, to make the right sounds and to turn up to the right functions and to give relatively generously when the occasion demands it. But unless all of that comes from the heart, when the chips are down there'll be nothing there. No inner strength, and no chance of exercising love and gentleness especially upon perceived "enemies". When the chips are down, the cries from nominal Christians are for revenge rather than for justice, and are cried with hate rather than with love.
Jesus recognised the particular temptations faced by the wealthy when he said, "Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," (Luke 18:25 ) but at no point does either Jesus or the writer of the letter to Timothy say that wealth in itself is wrong. The writer to Timothy recognises that the wealthy can be not only good people, but can also do a great deal of good with their wealth. He says, "As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life."
It's a question of priorities. Those who love money so much that money is their top priority will find an inner emptiness when the chips are down, with the sudden realisation that their life has been wasted seeking that which can never fulfill inner needs. Those who are ready and willing to give up everything for Christ, will find they gain everything and are filled with inner satisfaction and the strength needed for crisis situations.
For as Jesus said, "Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?" (Luke 9:24-25). And as the writer to Timothy so pointedly remarked, "We brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it." When the chips are down, it's only God that matters.
