Mother Moira's Sermon - Sunday October 11

1. Job 23:1-9, 16-17 – Job’s bitter complaint
2. Psalm 22:1-15 – Plea for deliverance from suffering
3. Hebrews 4: 12-16 - The rest that God promised
4. Mark 10:17-31 – The rich man

In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted and you delivered them…

Trust in God is a theme that runs consistently through our readings today with perhaps the exception of Job whose complaint against God is a rather bitter one. Having endured an attack on his character, losing his property and children and suffering a loathsome skin affliction, Job feels (maybe with some justification) that God has abandoned him.

In Psalm 22 we pick up similar sentiments in the cry of desolation, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Most of us would be familiar with that haunting cry which of course echoed from the cross. As with Job, however, whose fortunes are eventually restored, it is important to note that Psalm 22 follows a pattern found in most of the Psalms of address and complaint to God, a plea for help, a confession of trust and finally a vow of praise. When Jesus began his painful recitation of Psalm 22, he knew exactly how it ended.

The Psalms give us permission to complain to God, they give us the freedom to raise our hands in despair and challenge our God who occasionally feels as if he has gone AWOL – absent without official leave! But again the thing to note about the vast majority of the Psalms is that they rarely stay with the anger. We are not, it seems, allowed to wallow in pain and bitterness rather, as in the Psalms; we must actively try to work our way through the darker emotions until we can get to a point where we can offer up words of praise. Underlying this movement from pain to praise is absolute trust in God, trust that God will hear our prayers and our pleas for help and respond.

Trust in the goodness of God forms the basis of our Gospel reading from Mark where a rich man is invited to throw caution to the wind, to relinquish his trust in money and place it instead in the hands of God.

This is a story I believe that many of us could relate to. The rich man feels a sense of emptiness; life for this fellow has lost a bit of its zing, a bit of its sparkle. He sees in Jesus an opportunity to get more out of his life. “What must I do,” he says eagerly kneeling before Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” He must have been very pleased with himself indeed when Jesus proceeded to list the social commandments of the Decalogue, the commandments dealing with how one should treat ones neighbour, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth … I have ticked all of those boxes, what else is there to do or have I done it all? Have I already inherited eternal life?”

“Not so quick,” says Jesus, “and not so easy … you lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

Jesus is calling this man into a relationship of absolute love and trust, with his neighbour, with Jesus himself and with God. Such a relationship cannot properly be achieved by merely ticking a series of boxes. You shall not murder … tick; you shall not commit adultery … tick; you shall not steal … tick; you shall not bear false witness … tick; you shall not defraud … tick; honour your father and mother … tick. It’s easy to tick these boxes and still lead a life that is removed from love of God and neighbour.

Jesus invites this man to move beyond a perfunctory tick-a-box mentality. The rich man is invited to a total transformation of life.

Jesus challenges him to transform his life in the radical fulfilment of his obligation to his neighbour … sell what you own and give the money to the poor. In doing so he will create the sort of security in his life that his money could never give him, a security that rests on the faithfulness and generosity of the “good” God, a security that reaches beyond this present life, a security that transcends the barrier of death… treasure in heaven.

We know how this story ends. Jesus’ words shock the rich man and he walks away grieving. What he sought in the beginning with such confidence he cannot win because the pull of his many possessions holds him captive. He takes his eyes off Jesus and the relationship being offered, and thinks only of his wealth and his own incapacity to let go of it.

The rich man retains his wealth – and whatever temporary security it may offer – but in place of the joy and freedom he might have known in loving companionship with Jesus he has the sadness of knowing he is trapped, controlled and prevented from gaining his deepest desire.

Are we like the rich man?

As individuals do we cling to money, to status or reputation, to possessions, to ideas or concepts, to routines or habits that we think provide us with some sort of security but in actual fact trap us, control us, stunt us and ultimately prevent us from gaining our deepest desires?

As a parish do we cling to particular ways of doing things, to memories, to buildings, to our little bit of turf, to things that give us comfort, that make us feel secure?

Are we like the rich man?

Why don’t we look upon this story today as a fresh invitation from Jesus to, metaphorically, sell everything we own, to give away that which traps us and controls us and prevents us from growing into the full maturity of Christ … the attitudes, the possessions, the ideas, the habits, the routines, the reputations, the buildings and the memories … let’s cast off these shackles, lets leave these things that weigh us down behind, let’s really commit ourselves here and now to following Jesus, let’s place our lives, let’s place the future of this parish totally in the hands of God trusting that he will deliver us.

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.