Lk 11:1-13
25 July 2004
“Reforming Our Faith, Part 3”
(“Stuff”)
Those of you who’ve been in our office may have noticed the poster of “The Simpsons” I have on the wall. I’ve enjoyed that show for years—it’s a real study in human behavior. The star, Homer Simpson, has a number of interesting personality traits. One of them is his propensity to borrow items from his next-door neighbor, Ned Flanders. That in itself is nothing remarkable. The problem is that Homer either returns the item broken or not at all. Sometimes he even manages to slip in a little insult, criticizing Ned for having such shoddy possessions.
Has anyone here ever known someone like Homer Simpson? Dare I ask, has anyone here ever been Homer Simpson? There are some folks who avoid being put in the position of either Homer or Ned Flanders. Their philosophy is this: “Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”
Or how about this scenario? Being told, after the fact, that you volunteered for something! Isn’t that one of the real joys in life? Of course, it’s not like I’m speaking from personal experience! No one ever volunteers me without my knowledge…
In this, the third of my series on the Reformed faith, we’ll look at this statement from the Book of Order: “A faithful stewardship that shuns ostentation and seeks proper use of the gifts of God’s creation.” (I like that word “ostentation”!) Something to keep in mind for each of these weekly emphases is the way they overlap. The Book of Order speaks of the “central affirmation of God’s sovereignty.” Because God is Lord of all, all these other things follow. They don’t stand alone.
In Luke 11, tucked away in the midst of a teaching on prayer, appears a curious little story, the parable of the friend at midnight. Here’s a guy who’s received a late night visitor—a friend, a comrade, for whom he has nothing to feed. But he says, “Wait! I know what to do! I have a good buddy nearby! He won’t mind giving me something, so that you don’t have to go to bed hungry!”
Of course, things don’t go quite according to plan. Upon hearing the knock at the door, the friend whose food has been volunteered drowsily grumbles, “Go away! The whole family is in bed. Come back at a decent hour!” The knocking continues. Finally, amid some muttered expletives, the bread is delivered to the insistent supplicant.
We have here a bit of a combination of the two themes I opened with. There’s the neighbor wanting a possession, in this case, bread. Plus, someone’s being volunteered, and not only that, it’s at the midnight hour. Either they really are good friends, or the guy at the door needs to work on his social skills! Or I suppose, he’s just desperate.
This lack of courteous behavior doesn’t go unnoticed by the scripture text. The word in verse 8 translated as “persistence” is anaideia (anaideia), which comes from two words meaning “without shame” or “without respect.” So, Jesus’ words could also be translated, “I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his audacity (or, “his shamelessness”) he will get up and give him whatever he needs.”
The pronouns in the verse make it unclear just who the shameless one is. Some say that for the sleepy friend to refuse hospitality, even at midnight, would be a disgrace. Others say that the friend asking for bread is being shameless, since he’s waking up an entire family. Maybe the ambiguity is intentional, suggesting that each has a degree of blame.
Those who hold to the philosophy of “neither a borrower nor a lender be” would deny that the sleepy friend bears any fault for his reluctance in supplying food. Then there are the words of Jesus in Luke 6: “do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” (v. 35). (You may have noticed, our whole financial system tends not to take these words of Jesus very seriously!) Still, having said all that, I really would prefer that none of you come to our door in the middle of the night, asking for a loaf of bread! (Understand, that’s because you’ll scare our dog, Duncan…)
You’ll recall that when I mentioned today’s focus, “A faithful stewardship that shuns ostentation and seeks proper use of the gifts of God’s creation,” I said that I like that word “ostentation.” It refers to excessive display, pomposity, status seeking…a Generation Y term might be “bling.” To be honest, “ostentation” seems a rather ostentatious way to say “ostentation”!
But why is that included in the statement? Why not just say, “A faithful stewardship that seeks proper use of the gifts of God’s creation”? Doesn’t that pretty well sum it all up? Why add the stuff about ostentation, about “puttin’ on the dog,” as my mother would say?
When we talk about stewardship, faithful or otherwise, we are indeed thinking about the gifts of God’s creation. We’re thinking about things. We’re thinking about matter. We’re thinking about stuff. We’re even thinking about ourselves, because we too, are stuff. We’re made out of stuff. Contrary to what bad religion teaches, stuff—matter, physicality—is not evil. It can be used in evil ways, but it itself is not bad. Remember, in Jesus Christ, God has become stuff.
There’s something else about stuff: we can’t live without it! Whether it’s food to eat, water to drink, shelter to protect us, fabric to clothe us, whatever; without stuff, we die. That’s true for everyone on the planet.
And that brings us back to our good friend, ostentation, livin’ large! Why add the bit about ostentation to the call for faithful stewardship? Because ostentation is a justice issue. An ostentatious use of God’s gifts represents a misuse of God’s gifts. When we take the earth’s resources and use them only to inflate our own egos, my friends, that’s a justice issue.
There’s a whole bunch of people without adequate food, drinkable water, reliable shelter, proper clothing, whatever, whatever. When we take stuff that could save lives and let it go to waste—or turn it into meaningless crap, that’s not a good thing! And that kind of stuff comes back to haunt you.
I find it interesting that the parable of the friend at midnight comes right in the middle of a teaching on prayer. Actually, I find it comforting…and appropriate. The Lord is well aware of our weakness. It’s only through the strength and insight we gain from prayer that we can resist the pull of ostentation. And here’s a good example of the overlapping emphases I mentioned earlier. Next week, we’ll look at, among other things, idolatry. Certainly, possessions and idolatry are closely intertwined.
The story of one who grudgingly makes provision is followed by the teaching on asking, searching, and knocking. Compared with the human parent who wouldn’t think of giving a harmful gift to a child, our heavenly parent desperately desires to make abundant provision. Luke says, even to the point of giving the Holy Spirit to those who ask. This is a giving of God’s own self.
Stewards are people who are entrusted with something. They don’t own whatever their stewardship is; it belongs to someone else. I know that this rubs a lot of people the wrong way, but ultimately, there’s nothing that we own. We are but stewards. Our possessions, our money, even our very selves belong to someone else. The scripture says, “do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body” (1 Co 6:19-20).
We are but stewards, but what a stewardship it is! We are stewards for none other than the God of all the ages. Meditating on that will put things in perspective. Understanding that all…stuff (every thing, every animal, every plant, every person) belongs to God—that will really change us! The meager charms of ostentation lose their appeal. Wasting energy and resources on status seeking, while others go without, is seen as a sham. We’ll be too busy really livin’ large!