Amos 6:1a, 4-7; 1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31
Our readings today give us much to think about on the themes of wealth and poverty. These readings challenge the wealthy to see and use their wealth in the light of what God demands, rather than simply following the normal ways of the world.
The background here is the biblical conviction that the God of Israel is a God of justice and compassion, concerned for the oppressed and hungry, the orphan and the widow – all those who are most vulnerable, most likely to be forgotten and trodden under foot.
We start from what God is like and what God asks of us, because God calls us to be channels of his justice and compassion in the world; we are to show the world what God is like. This is our solemn calling as God's people. If we ignore it, we come under God's judgement. We hear this message from the prophet Amos, who fiercely condemns those who are 'at ease in Zion': people sleeping in luxurious beds, eating and drinking fine food and wine, listening to pleasant music, wearing expensive perfume. So what are these people doing wrong? The point is that they are in Zion; they are members of the people of Israel; they should know what God is like and what God expects of them. Amos' criticism is that these people have many good things, but, crucially, they 'are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph'. Those living nearby – members of the tribe of Joseph – are in dire need, their lives are in ruins, but the people criticized by Amos just don't care. Their wealth has sealed their hearts; the suffering of others does not touch them. There's nothing wrong with their wealth in itself; the problem is what they have let their wealth do to their souls, their capacity for compassion, their sense of justice. And so, Amos says, alas for them!
The message is much the same in the story Jesus tells about a rich man who has everything, but his moral sense has died; he takes no notice of his neighbour Lazarus starving at his gate, with dogs licking his sores; he too is 'not grieved' by the suffering of his neighbour. This rich man has gained the whole world and lost his soul. Alas for him, too: he comes under God's judgement, described in terms of torment, agony and flames. This story is meant to disturb us, to make us ask: Am I becoming like that rich man? Is my life heading there?
In both cases the wealthy are not judged because they are wealthy but because their wealth strangled their hearts and they ignored those in need. They are judged not for what they did, but for what they did not do. They did not show justice and compassion to those in need around them.
If that's how Amos and Jesus addressed the people of their day, what do we make of the same challenge today? One problem we face is information-overload. The complacent wealthy of Amos' time knew about the suffering of their neighbours in the tribe of Joseph, but we hear about the sufferings of the whole world – and all the time. As well as the images on our screens, we get all those letters from charities telling heart-rending stories. How can we respond to them all? If our hearts are open to the needs of others does that mean we should never plan a holiday, buy concert tickets, or even enjoy small luxuries like a glass of wine or a box of chocolates?
It's a good question, because such things are indeed luxuries; we do not need them. Out of obedience to Christ, should we give everything away and live lives of radical simplicity? (After all, Paul tells us that if we have food and clothing we should be content with that.) Let's remember that the Church honours certain Christians who have followed precisely this path. St Anthony, a wealthy young man in third century Egypt, heard the words of Jesus to the rich young ruler: 'Go, sell everything, and follow me.' And Anthony did just that. So did St Francis – and many others down the ages. Even if we don't follow their example (and I certainly haven't) such Christians should at least remind us of our need to remain detached from our possessions. Antony, Francis and others demonstrate the beauty of a simple, uncluttered life; they warn us of the real spiritual danger there is in wealth. There is great wisdom in their way of life, however strange it may seem to the world.
But most Christians, myself included, do not live like Anthony or Francis. We live in the world of work, salaries, medical insurance, mortgages and other bills to be paid, pensions, families to support, holidays to plan. It's in this complicated, money-focused world that we have to work out what it means to live as faithful followers of Christ. Let's consider some principles to guide us.
An important part of our response to this challenge is to keep a global perspective. As Christians, we shouldn't see ourselves and assess our way of life only in terms of our immediate context here in Switzerland. We belong to the worldwide body of Christ, quite apart from the wider human family. I'm grateful that in various ways we are regularly reminded here at St Ursula's of this global Body of Christ perspective, which brings us joy and enrichment, but also challenge.
We must also recognize that the challenges around wealth and poverty in today's world don't come to us just as individuals. They come to the Church as an institution, to the Church of England and other churches; they come to governments and businesses. The great moral questions of wealth and poverty in the world today involve huge structural, political issues over which we may feel we have no influence. But we cannot ignore them. This point came up a few years ago in relation to the vote over a Swiss initiative, about which there were different views in this congregation. But I think, at least I hope, that we all recognized that even if Christians don't agree on every detail of the policies governments should adopt, we can agree on the following broad principle. In our thinking, our way of life, our voting, our investments, and other commitments we adopt, we should be guided by our Christian vision of the flourishing that God wills for all people, and we should therefore ask ourselves what moves towards greater economic justice in the world will be needed. We are citizens, or at least residents, of a wealthy nation, and we benefit from this hugely, every day. Are we taking seriously our responsibilities and our opportunities to promote God's ways of justice and compassion in the world?
But the fact that there are global political and economic questions about wealth and poverty at the macro-level, doesn't mean that we can ignore the day-by-day micro-level challenge to us as individuals. What does it mean to us as individuals to live as faithful followers of Christ in relation to issues of wealth and poverty?
I don't believe that our faith lays upon us a set of detailed prescriptions, a blueprint instructing each of us how exactly to handle our wealth. Christian guidance in this area of life has generally been expressed in terms not of specific rules but of principles and attitudes of heart. Faithful Christian discipleship can take quite different forms: it can look like St Francis embracing holy poverty; but it can also look like a gifted Christian entrepreneur running successful businesses, harnessing their potential for the common good, and doubtless having to wrestle with many temptations and hard questions along the way.
But even if there is no blueprint for Christian living in this area of life, there are challenges for us all. I'll conclude by highlighting some principles from today's reading from Paul's First Letter to Timothy. The points are general; we must each work out how to apply them in our lives.
First, the wealthy are told not to be 'haughty', or arrogant. For Christians, wealth should lead not to arrogance, but to humility; and to a sense of responsibility rather than entitlement. Our attitude to whatever wealth we have should be to recognize humbly the great responsibilities it lays upon us: 'of those to whom much has been given, much will be required'. We must therefore humbly and regularly seek God's guidance in the use of our wealth. We should ponder also the serious warnings in this reading about the dangers that wealth poses to us all. The pursuit of wealth traps people 'in senseless and harmful desires', plunging them into 'ruin and destruction'. The love of money draws people away from faith in God and pierces them with many pains.
Second, we are to set our hopes not 'on the uncertainty of riches but rather on God.' There is something terribly insecure and uncertain about wealth. It is right to make financial plans for the future, for our dependents. It may be wise to pay a financial adviser to help us. But we do all this realizing that all such plans are uncertain because money cannot give us the security we need, which ultimately comes only from God. So the question is this: 'What really matters to me? What compels me? What is enthroned in my heart: God – or wealth?' Does God or wealth play the tune to which my life dances?
Those two points are rather negative. They are warnings. A third and final point is more positive. Our faith offers us a distinct perspective on what it means to be truly rich. The rich are told 'to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share'. Note that phrase 'rich in good works'. Here is an outward-looking definition of what it means to be truly rich. This is the kind of wealth we can pursue without danger. True wealth is not about what we can acquire and keep for ourselves and our family, but about looking out towards others, giving out generously. True wealth is like God's wealth, which is quite unlike the wealth of the grasping hoarder. God is rich in grace. God's wealth lies in giving away. That is what it means to be truly rich.
If God were a rich hoarder, there would in fact be nothing, literally nothing. There would be no universe, no you and me, no love, just a black hole. But instead, the God who is rich in grace, generous and endlessly self-giving, gives himself in creating and loving the universe – all that we see, all the people and all the beauty we have known: it is all the outpouring of God's wealth.
That is true wealth, God's wealth, and it can find an echo in our lives if we also learn to give generously, to see our true prosperity in terms not of what we can call our own, but of what we can give out: to be rich in good works, to be rich in giving. According to the final words of this reading, to live like this is 'take hold of the life that really is life'. May that be so in us. May God who is rich in grace transform our hearts and minds so that we may know abundance of life as we follow in the way of Jesus, who teaches us that it is more blessed to give than to receive.
David Marshall