August 5, 2007 - Pentecost 10, Year C
Saint James Episcopal Church, Saint James, NY

It was almost unbelievable.
Just after peak hour
a huge road bridge began to crumple and fall
big segments dropping 60 or more feet
cars plunging into the river.
Amazingly, most people survived. What might have been a tragedy
with deaths in the hundreds
was still a tragedy, but one laced with grace
as story after story emerged
of people escaping from sinking cars
or being rescued
from fragilely balanced vehicles.

When you live on an island
even one as big as Long Island
an accident like this
has a profound resonance.
We depend on our bridges, along with our tunnels;
they are our physical link
to the mainland,
and without them
our lives would be infinitely more complex.
But they are a fragile link;
every time I go over to Manhattan or the Bronx or Staten Island
I'm aware that I am dependent
on steel and concrete and engineers;
that a simple accident
or deliberate sabotage
could sever the link,
infinitely complicate the lives of millions,
and if I were in the wrong place
cost me my life.

And reading the newspaper reports — they've announced the names of the missing, now presumed dead
along with those whose deaths have been confirmed —
you realize that these people
could have been any of us;
a young mother and her toddler,
a consultant, dance teacher, construction worker, truck driver, marketing director,
just ordinary people
trying to live
ordinary lives.
But the description of one person that caught my attention.
It was the marketing director. She'd just talked to her husband on the phone,
and headed down the highway, a route she didn't normally take
because there seemed to always be
construction delays.
She was driving in her new Mercedes 280. "It was her dream car," her husband said.

That story caught my attention, I think,
because it's so similar
to the story Jesus told
in our gospel today.
The story Jesus told
is of a man
who is doing well in life,
so well, in fact,
that he decides that the barns he has
aren't quite big enough to hold his crops, let along all the other things he has bought.
And so he decides to rebuild. Get rid of the old buildings
and put up some new ones, with plenty of space.
And although Jesus doesn't say it, I wonder if in that man's mind
he also thinks
that if he builds new buildings
everyone will notice
how prosperous he is
and accord him
appropriate honor.
But then Jesus says,
then, just when the man is getting into his building project
he dies,
and it all becomes pointless.
He'll never get the benefit
of those wonderful buildings.
And there was nothing in the buildings
that could save him.

It was the comment from that woman's husband
that caught my attention.
That Mercedes
was her dream car.
And the sadness
and the irony of it
was that she will never get to use it,
and that not even a fabulous car
could save her.

I don't think it's fair to go too far
to see this as a direct parallel to Jesus' story
and deduce from the woman's story
that she had a problem with greed.
But I do think
that it's good to stop and think for a minute
when things like this happen.
It might just be
that what the gospels report as a parable
was actually something that happened.
That a well known man
full of his success
and with newly rebuilt barns

had in fact died
and people were saying how sad it was
that he never got the benefit of his wealth.
People were talking about it
and Jesus seized on it
as a chance to talk about something important.

When tragedy strikes
our usual response
is to ask questions.
When it's someone we know
we ask, "Why them?"
But for the rest of us, it tends to be
"Why did this happen?"
And the answer is,
too often
that we know why it happened.
Because bridges weren't maintained;
because buildings were built in flood plains,
because someone drank too much and got behind the wheel of a car.

But there is another question to ask,
or at least
that's what it seems to me
that Jesus is suggesting.
And that other question
is
"what should I do?"

What should I do?
Sometimes the answer is practical:
lobby for money to be spent on infrastructure;
make sure I don't buy a house in a flood plain;
be careful what I drink before driving home.

But there's another question,
a question that lies deeper beneath the surface.
And that question is
what do I trust?

Do I trust in the skills of engineers to save me?
Do I trust in my good decision making skills?
Do I trust in what I own?

Because somewhere, deep down,
most of us put our energy
into the things we trust, the things that we believe
will make life safe
will make life better.
And we live our lives accordingly.

Jesus begins by talking about greed,
and probably most of us
automatically think
"I'm not greedy; I don't really want more than my fair share, and anyway, I've worked hard for it."
But by the end of his conversation
he's got to something far
more substantial, far more uncomfortable.
Because he, like the writer of Ecclesiastes
is pointing out
that no matter what we have
it can't keep us safe
from death.
Trusting in money
or possessions
or anything else physical
can't, in the end
save us.

And so, I think Jesus is suggesting,
we need to be aware of that.
To get our perspective clear.
What we own
can't save us.
Only God can.

That doesn't necessarily mean
that we have to sell up everything,
give it all up to the poor
and abandon ourselves to the generosity of others to survive.
But it does mean
that we need to be critical of our own spending,
critical of the things we own.
Is this something I need?
Or maybe it's something that I'm using as a substitute
to fill a hole,
to make me feel better,
to trust in?
Is there a better way
that I could spend my money?

You see, what it's about
is being wise about the things that we own.
It's about being wise about them
and not imbuing them with power that they do not have.
What we own
can't save us.
Only God can.
And so in the grand scheme of things
what we earn
what we own
are secondary,
secondary
to our faith and trust in God.

And if they are secondary,
then, Jesus suggests,
then what should guide our use of them
is our faith and trust in God.
We should be making decisions, he suggests,
on the basis of our love of God
and our Christian faith,
and so how we spend our money
where we allocate it
will be guided by that.
Living with generosity
rather than greed, making choices
that don't just benefit ourselves
but honor
God.

That's the practical side of this story of Jesus'.
But there's another part to it.
As we were talking about the gospel last night at the evening service, and about the bridge collapse, someone said,
"If I were to die
would my husband
talk about my car?"

How we live with money,
the decisions we make
aren't entirely private. People make conclusions about us
based on the choices they see us making.
When they see us
focusing on our own benefit,
they may conclude that we are wise, preparing for the future, or they may think
that we are simply greedy.
When they see us focusing on the needs of others
they may think we're stupid,
or they may think
that we are generous
and the sort of people
they want to know.
The choices we make
lead others to conclusions about us.

And if they know we are Christians
they will make conclusions about the church
an about God.
As people who are called to live out our faith,
to be salt and light to the world,
to draw others to Christ,
how we live with money
in a society that places an awful lot of importance on it,
how we live with money
is one of the most significant acts of witness
that we do.

Somehow
we've found our way
from the collapse of a bridge in Minneapolis
to living wisely
with money.
It's quite a way.
But what binds it together
is the knowledge that
death
brings life into perspective.
And part of that life
is how we live with money.
We need to keep it in perspective,
to remember that what e own
can't save us.
Only God can.

And to remember
that everything we do, every choice we make
we do as people claimed as God's own.
And God will never fail us.

©Raewynne J.Whiteley, 2007