Tough Issues: What About Stuff?
Dr. Jim Wilson, January 27, 2008 I begin with a confession. I have too much stuff! There I said it. My stuff consists chiefly of books. You could say “I am a ‘bookaholic.” Char might add a few other items, but I admit to books---too many of them. I try to control my book addiction and then someone gives me a Barnes and Noble gift card! Yes, without question, I have too much stuff. And I would guess you do as well. Most Americans do. It wasn’t always this way. My grandparents’ home, built in the 1880s had virtually no closets. The home in which I grew up had very limited closet space. The assumption was that people’s stuff should fit into a chest of drawers. Not so today. One of the first things we look for in a home to purchase or in a home to be built is closets, many and big closets---and a basement. We have stuff! And let’s not overlook the fact that one of the fastest growing businesses for the past several years has been the self-storage business. Just look around. They’re everywhere. After all, we have to store our stuff. Our fascination with stuff has not escaped the notice of George Carlin, that irreverent observer of American culture. In his classic routine entitled “Stuff,” he notes: That’s all I want. That’s all you need in life, is a little place for your stuff, ya know. Everybody’s got a little place for their stuff. This is my stuff, that’s your stuff, that’ll be his stuff over there. That’s all you need in life, a little place for your stuff. That’s what your house is—a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you’re taking off in an airplane. You look down, you see everybody’s got a little pile of stuff. And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn’t want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. They always take the good stuff. They never bother with the (junk) you’re saving. All they want is the shiny stuff. That’s what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more…stuff. Sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore. That is sharp-edged humor. We see much of ourselves described. But what does this addition to stuff mean? What is it saying about us? I think Jesus’ parable in our text provides some helpful insights. As Jesus is teaching a man in the crowd comes forward with a request. “Teacher,” he says, “tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” The request is both legitimate, rabbis were expected to make such judgments, and familiar, inheritance then, as now, often created conflict in families. Jesus abruptly and firmly refuses the request, saying, “Friend, who set me to be judge or arbitrator over you?” And then he warned, “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Then Jesus tells a parable. The land of a rich farmer produced a bountiful harvest, one that exceeded all expectations The rich man retreats into a reverie as he asks himself, “What shall I do for I have no place to store my crops?” Note that he sees the problem as finding room for his crops. The thought of sharing the abundance with people in need never crosses his mind. His reverie continues, moving to solution: “I will pull down my barns and build larger ones to store all my grain and my goods.” His answer is bigger barns to accommodate his stuff. With a solution in hand, the rich man concludes: And I will say to my soul, eat, drink and be merry.” The man has shut everyone out of his life, including God. There is no one else in the story---just the man and his stuff---that is until God speaks to him No sooner had this man envisioned his future, then God speaks to inform him of what the future really holds for him: “You fool, this very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” What a reversal of fortune! “So it is,” concludes Jesus, “with those who store up treasures for themselves, but are not rich toward God.” I think it is important that we not beat up on the farmer. There is no evidence that he was a bad person, that he was a criminal, that he was unjust, or manipulated the markets or that he abused those who worked for him. Nor is there any suggestion that he was wasteful or careless or thief. Jesus simply called him, “a fool.” Now as the Psalmist reminds us, “A fool says in is heart there is no God.” And that is what this man said in his heart. He lived without reference to God. He thought only of himself and how he could take care of his stuff. He spoke to no one else. His reverie was about his possessions and himself. He may have been prudent, wise, careful, even honest. But nevertheless, Jesus calls him a “fool.” He believes that his wealth and his stuff will somehow insulate him from the perils of life; will somehow guarantee him what he perceives to be “the good life.” He trusts in his stuff. And Jesus calls this “foolishness,” for as he says in another place, “What does it profit anyone if they gain the whole world, but forfeit themselves?” Do we have ears to hear? Stuff, says Jesus, can be more than an annoying habit or even a harmless addiction that clutters our lives with things. Now not all stuff is bad----books for instance are not bad. That is the issue, as George Carlin pointedly reminds us. My stuff s good, yours, however, is---well, let’s leave it at “junk.” Yet, all junk clutters our lives. It can lead us, warns Jesus, to a false sense of security; the notion that somehow if we have enough stuff we can insulate our lives from the vissitudes of life; that somehow if we have a big enough pension program, a great stock portfolio, a large insurance policy, the latest gadgets; that somehow our stuff will protect us from uncertainty, from financial catastrophe, even from death itself. Evidently, the United States government believes this, at least to some extent. Witness the tax rebates we are to receive out of the government’s fear of a recession. The government gives us rebate. Why? In the hope that we will buy more stuff, and our buying more stuff will keep the economy humming! You may have noticed one of the lead stories in yesterday’s Tribune titled, “The Tax Rebate: How Should You Spend It?” There was a similar story in the Daily Herald. The Tribune writer, however, had an interesting approach. He interviewed a number of people as to how they planned to spend their tax rebate and then graded their plan on its impact on the economy. Jeff Hamby from Quincy got an “A.” He told the reporter that he would like to buy a bigger motorcycle but probably would spend the money either landscaping or putting a deck on his new home. Brandon Moulton got an “A+” for using his rebate to buy additional Cubs tickets. Valerie Moore got a “D” when she said she was going to save the money for her son’s education. The question is, “Do we have stuff or does our stuff have us?” Recently, I saw a familiar bumper sticker with a twist. It read, “He who dies with the most toys wins----But he still dies!” That is a fact of life. Now I am happy to get a tax rebate, but I will not go to Barnes and Noble with it. The point is, stuff can not insulate us, cannot secure our lives. Only the gracious love of God in Christ can do that. The rich farmer made a fatal mistake thinking otherwise. Jesus calls us to be wiser and more faithful about our stuff. Stuff is not a hedge against a heart attack or cancer, a broken relationship or a troubled marriage, an anxious spirit or a broken heart. Only grace can be such a force for healing and reconciliation. Jesus’ warning goes one step further. The farmer in Jesus parable put his stuff in place of God. He looked to his stuff to give meaning and purpose to his life. This, says Jesus, is the root of his foolishness. Not only did he trust that his stuff would secure him against the perils of life, he also trusted hat his stuff would fill his days with joy and peace, meaning and purpose. That is a foolish lie the culture then and now loves to promote. Stuff can never deliver on such a promise, no matter what the advertisements promise or the marketing ploys suggest. Stuff cannot secure us from the onslaught of finitude or fill us with uninterrupted joy and well-being. Life does not consist in the abundance of our stuff. It consists in the faithful receiving of the gracious love of God in Christ. To think otherwise is foolishness---fatal foolishness. A friend tells of a colleague who teaches with him at the seminary. This colleague of my friend was the first female theologian to teach at that particular seminary. She often asked the head of the department, a well-known and well-respected theologian, for assistance. But he never seemed to have the time. After all, he was so busy, a prominent scholar. She suspected there might be other reasons. Nevertheless, he was so busy, his life so full, articles and books to write, lectures to give, important places to go, seminars to lead. After they had been on the faculty together for a number of years, he suffered a debilitating stroke. In the months in which he lingered between life and death, she visited him in the hospital and then in the nursing home. “There he was,” she recalled, “quite a change from the man I had known. He was no longer busy, powerful, strong. His head as lying on the side of the pillow, body hunched down in the fetal position, tubes protruding out of his mouth. His wife had placed on the bedside table and at other places in the room, copies of his books and monographs, awards he had won, pictures of him with prominent people---remains of his life, his busy life. And I wondered, ‘Did someone whisper, ‘You fool’?” Our lives do not consist in the abundance of our stuff. Is it not time to take a hard look at our stuff and ask “Why?” Can we not unload some of our stuff and live more simply, with much less clutter getting in the way? Hear Jesus’ warning: stuff can not make us secure or provide us with the good life. To think it can makes us a fool. By the way, one of my New Year’s resolutions---to cull the books. Thanks be to God! Amen! |
