March 9, 2011
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Getting Serious about this God Thing
"What are you going to give me if I do this?" As a parent, there are few comments which irritate me as much as this one. If you have ever been in a classroom where an unsuspecting student asked this of a teacher - you know the disgust that such a question can cause. "What are you going to give me if I do this?" is not something you want to say to someone who will be responsible for giving you your final grade.
My daddy had a quick come-back to my asking, "What am I going to get?" He would respond by saying, "I'll tell you what you are going to get if you don't do it." Ambiguous perhaps, but it communicated his position rather well and I usually found my way clear to do the task without further encouragement from him.
Now, honestly speaking, it really isn't that bad of a question. Before we embark on an activity don’t we have the right to know exactly what we are to expect in return for our efforts. -Yet, somehow, these words, "What am I going to get?" rub the wrong way. They are irritating to hear. They create an obstacle to gratefulness, once the act is done.
Jesus is trying to deal with those who ask “What am I going to get?” He speaks about rewards for doing particular actions. He seems to be operating out of some past experience in which those who have given alms, or offered prayers, or fasted have done so in order to receive the accolades of their neighbors and fellow worshipers. Maybe they were too impatient to wait for results. Perhaps they wanted to determine their own reward and in fact what they were after was the praise of others.
Responding to some prior experience, Jesus says, "If it is the praise of others that you seek and receive, that is fine. But if that is the reward you are after, don't expect another." No one, God included, is going to give you something in addition to that which you have sought and already received.
I can understand the logic of Jesus' thought. You really can't get two effects from the same action. And if the primary effect one seeks is the accolades of one's neighbors, there is no way that a second should be expected. I can understand his point. But I still find it difficult to leave so much up to chance. I want to know, before I start, what I can expect at the other end of the journey.
Of course, this is what makes a spiritual journey so frightening. Jesus says that God, who sees in secret will reward in secret, but he never gets around to telling us what it is that God will give. Are we assured of eternal life? Will God love us more than those who do not act in a certain way? What are we going to get if we agree and do as Jesus instructs? These are questions, for which we want answers, don’t we? But spiritual journeys don't work that way. We embark upon them, but we remain unsure as to where it is that they will lead.
The only thing we know, as we embark on this pilgrimage, is what we are leaving behind.
While it may be known to us, life without God falls short of what we would hope. It may be familiar, but it is a life devoid of the confidence and the assurance that we matter – matter eternally.
The Ash Wednesday confession is a litany of what life is like without God. Failing to love, failing to forgive - we live self-indulgent lives, consuming and exploiting those around us. An intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts allows us to become blind to human need and suffering; indifferent to injustice and cruelty.
We may not know where God is leading us, but we understand all too well what confronts us if we remain where we are.
Lenten disciplines, spiritual journeys - these do not immediately transpose us to some other place, but they give us the tools we need to live in this place while we wait to see what our God has in store for us.
I wish that I did know where God is leading me. What I do know is that without God the place I inhabit is lacking in the things which I need the most.
Repentance, fasting, prayer, works of love - the disciplines of Lent - these may not, these should not earn us the accolades of our neighbors and friends. Rather they strengthen us for the leaving behind of that which destroys and tears down. We cannot see the end of our journey, but along the way we are cared for by a God who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.
“What are you going to get, if you do this?” I don’t know. But haven’t we all seen way too much of what we get when we don’t.
The emptiness of a Lenten journey provides room in our souls for God to find a home. That is what we get.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
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