Green Lake Church of Seventh-day Adventists
Texts: 1 Kings 21:1-7, Luke 12:13-21
Last week, I placed
five imaginary chocolates here on the piano. Today, I'm going to put
them in the shelf in the back of the lectern.
In their place, I
have another treat for you.
This is a piece of
blackberry pie. Not just any pie. This pie came from the kitchen at
our house. It's is my wife's recipe done to perfection by my
daughter. The crust is exquisite. The filling pops with incredible
flavor—the berries are from a special place in our back field where
the berries are different from berries elsewhere in our neighborhood.
The berries in the small section of our berry row are amazingly
flavorful. Building on these special berries, Bonnie has added sugar
and lemon in exactly the right proportions to balance tartness and
sweetness. The texture of the finished pie is heavenly.
On the plate beside
the pie is a couple of scoops of Alden's Organic All-natural Vanilla
Bean Ice Cream. On top of the pie is whipped cream. Not Miracle Whip.
Not some white stuff squirted out of a can. No, this is real cream,
the kind that comes in glass bottles. My did the whipped cream. He
added just the right bit of sugar and vanilla, then hand-whipped it
to a soft, creamy consistency.
I'll take just a
bite. Bliss. While you're dreaming about blackberry pie. I'm going to
talk about the tenth commandment: Do not covet.
What does it mean to
covet? Today's Old Testament reading illustrates what the word means.
Ahab was king of the
nation of Israel. He was a successful king if you measured him by
military and financial accomplishments. At some point he looked out
his window at the property next door to his palace and thought, “That
would be a perfect place for an intimate garden. I'll buy it.” So
he goes next door for a conversation with his neighbor. “Nathan, my
friend. I see you have a very fine place here. How much do you think
it's worth?”
Do you mean what do
I think someone might offer me or are you asking how much money would
tempt me to sell?
How much would you
take for this place?
It's not for sale.
Look, Nathan. I'll
give you good money and I will find another property for you, one
that would be even more suited for your vineyard, a place with more
room, better access to water, better views.
You name it.
Whatever you want I'll give you, just sell me your place.
It's not for sale.
This property has
been in our family for generations. Selling this place would be
disrespectful to my ancestors. I'm sorry, but no.
Ahab was upset. He
was used to getting his way. After all, he was the greatest. He went
back to his palace, crawled into bed and fell into a deep funk.
Sometime later in
the day, his wife Jezebel came in. What you so gloomy about?
He told her.
What??!! she said.
“Are you king or not? You can do anything you want. You can have
anything you want. But leave it to me. Just get up and wipe that pout
off your face.”
Jezebel arranged to
have Nathan framed for blasphemy. The stratagem worked. Nathan was
executed by stoning for blasphemy. And Ahab confiscated the property.
And lived happily
ever after. NOT.
Stories of this kind
of greed do not end well. They never do. Even if the coveting strong
man appears to win, we don't end the story there. We keep telling the
story until we come to the part where it all blows up. Because we
know that might does not make right. We know, deep in the core of our
being, that just because someone can, does not mean that someone
should.
Coveting means
looking at the treasure that belongs to our neighbor—looking so
long and so intently that we begin to scheme to snatch it. We begin
think how to use our power to overwhelm their power and take the best
of their lives for ourselves. This is coveting. Don't do it. It is
evil. Wicked. Repugnant. Don't!
It is easy to find
modern examples of this kind of thing.
The current drive by
an oil company to build a pipeline across Indian land in the Dakotas,
sounds curiously like the story of Ahab. The company, with the power
of money and government behind it, is determined to take Indian land
for its own use.
Just this Wednesday,
the Seattle Times had a front page story about poor people from Asia
who are confined on fishing boats off Hawaii in a weird version form
of legal American slavery. Why? Because they can. Years ago, a
loophole was written into American law that allowed boats off Hawaii
to hire people without the protections offered elsewhere to people
employed on American boats. According to the report, the living
conditions on many of these boats are squalid and miserable.
Why does this
happen? The employees are desperately poor. The employers are driven
by greed. They are determined to make the most profit they can, even
if it means stealing from the lives of their employees.
This evil. And
everyone knows it is, once it's brought into the light of day. This
is the value of news reporting on this kind of abuse. The question
for us is how do protect ourselves against the allure of
covetousness?
The oil company does
not have any animus toward the Indians whose land they are violating.
They just want the money, the income, they will get from building the
pipeline. These boat owners have no evil intentions toward the
employees they are exploiting and abusing. I'm sure if we learned
about the owners of these companies we would find they are nice
people. They take care of their children. They are nice to their
dogs. How is it that they have gotten sucked into this kind of
covetousness? How can we avoid falling into the same kinds of evil?
Most of the Ten
Commandments are expressed negatively. Which makes sense. It's easier
to detail the few things that are prohibited than to list all the
good things that deserve our attention. So the commandments say,
don't worship idols, don't murder, don't steal, don't cheat, don't
give false testimony. But when Jesus was asked to summarize the moral
law, he switched to the positive. What is the great commandment? Love
God with your entire being. Anything else? Sure.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
The antidote to
coveting is practicing loving our neighbor. When we deliberately
focus our affection and admiration on another person we are made
immune to the allure of covetousness. We avoid covetousness, all
sorts of other stupid sin, but focusing our attention in loving
appreciation toward God and neighbor. Our lives go where we look. So,
let's point our lives toward goodness. Point the front wheel of our
bicycles toward love and generosity, toward compassion and kindness.
Years ago my son was
taking horse riding lessons. I couldn't figure out why he needed
lessons. He could ride far, far better than I could. But he wanted to
become even more skillful so we signed him up with a well-known
teacher. I was standing beside the arena during one of his lessons.
As far as I could tell, Garrett and the horse were doing everything
they were supposed to. Suddenly, the instructor hollered at him.
“Where were your
eyes?”
Garrett pulled up
his horse while the instructor lectured him.
I couldn't believe
it. Over the years various family members have tried to improve my
horse riding. They have directed me to do things with my hands. Hold
the reins a certain way. Pull or don't pull. Raise your
hands. Lower your hands. I've been told, “Push
him over with your knee. Sit back in the saddle.” There have been
other commands equally as incomprehensible, but as far as I can
recall, the skilled riders in my family have never ever told me to do
something with my eyes. Most of the time, they just give me
commandments. DON'T DO THAT!
But apparently once
you've mastered the basics. Once you're doing more than just trying
not to fall off, eyes become important.
The instructor told
Garrett, “Your horse will go where your eyes go.”
It's the same with
life. We go where we're looking. So let's look toward goodness. Let's
aim to be generous and frugal, to be industrious and creative. And
when we notice riches in our neighbors' lives, let's rejoice in their
good fortune and ask ourselves what can we learn from their good
success.
Let's learn to look
at our neighbors—the people around us, the people we work with, our
classmates at school, those who sit near us in church—let's learn
to look with love, with affection and respect and admiration. How do
we do this?
First, by the simple
act of listening.
Long ago and far
away, I was upset about what the administration of an organization
where I worked. I made an appointment with one of the
vice-presidents. I had a prepared speech, the bullet points of my
protest. I was ready to speak truth to power—that's a high-flown
label for grousing about the boss. :-)
At the appointed
time, the secretary sent me into his office. I was ready. I could
feel the adrenaline rising. But before I began going through my list,
I made the mistake of asking how he was doing. And he began telling
me. His life was in crisis. I don't remember any details now. It may
have involved his kids or his parents or his marriage or all of the
above. The details don't matter now. The more carefully I listened,
more he poured out his woes. In his position he probably didn't have
many people to talk to. I never did get to my laundry list of
complaints that day. I had to deal with them later. But I was struck
with the power of simply inquiring and then listening.
When we listen to
people, when we hear them, when we pay attention to their stories, we
are unlikely to find our attention grabbed by their possessions.
Instead of coveting, listening will lead us to love our neighbors as
ourselves.
Love your neighbor
as yourself. You know how sweet it is to be heard. So listen.
Practice listening. Practice asking questions and then shutting up
and listening, waiting to hear. It is one of the sweetest ways to
practice loving.
What shall we do?
Love our neighbor.
Give affectionate attention to our neighbor. Listen to our neighbor.
Learn their stories. Learn about their parents and their children and
their dogs and their cats and iguanas. Listen so carefully, so
gently, they find it safe to mention the places where they hurt. Hear
their dreams and hopes and ambitions. Love your neighbor.
Love your neighbor
as you love yourself. Pay attention to your neighbor until you can
see their greatness, their nobility, their value. Pay attention to
your neighbor until you understand how it is that God could love them
so dearly.
This is a perfect
preventative for coveting.
At the beginning of
my sermon I talked about a wonderful piece of blackberry pie. I'm
hoping you can still imagine it. Maybe you can even still taste it,
still feel the smooth texture of the cream and the sharp bite of the
blackberry flavor on your tongue.
Last week, in the
lobby after church, several people told me they were still salivating
over the chocolate I described at the beginning of the sermon. Their
hunger for the imaginary chocolates I set on the piano stayed alive
throughout the entire sermon. They could not take their eyes or their
taste buds off that chocolate that was displayed here on the piano.
(in imagination)
Today, at the
beginning of the sermon, I mentioned chocolate again. But unless you
are an absolute chocolate addict, my guess is you have not given it
any more thought. For sure I haven't been thinking about the
chocolate pieces I hid in the back of the lectern. Instead, I've been
dreaming of the blackberry pie and ice cream and whipped cream.
I forgot the
chocolate because I cultivated my attention for something else.
The allure of
coveting will evaporate as we give our attention to the actual
humanity of our neighbor. As we practice loving our neighbor, the
notion of snatching their treasures becomes unthinkable. Alien.
Absurd.
When we are focused
on money, it is easy to forget that employees or neighbors or people
who need welfare are human beings. But when we turn from our
spreadsheets and pay attention to the actual human beings who are
being served or neglected, who are being enslaved, suddenly our moral
duty becomes clearer. The more vividly we see real human beings, the
easier it will be to join with God in his generosity and kindness.
The apostle Paul
writes
When we love our neighbor we keep the law because all Bible
commandments can be neatly summarized in this one command: love your
neighbor as yourself. Romans 13:8-10
This is direction
enough for life. Let's do it. Let's practice listening, giving, and
loving. This is our holy ambition. This is our heavenly calling.
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