Beloved Members of St. Martin’s,
One of my favorite scenes in the original Star Wars movie—besides the blowing up of the Death Star—is a subtle little scene where Princess Leia is dragged before Governor Tarkin so that he can show off the power of the Death Star, which will, he says, make resistance to the empire futile. With a subtle sneer, Leia retorts, “The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.”
And it is a truth of life that if your hands are gripping anything tightly, there’s no room to accept anything else, even if it’s better. The stuff we hold on to, especially when it’s familiar, can often take up the place of something better. Sometimes we think we own something—only to find that it owns us, or holds us back from even perceiving that there might be better things we could welcome into our lives.
This weekend our readings are bookended by two men who are defined by their possessions. Job, who had been wealthy, had lost everything—possessions, children, even his bodily health—despite being blameless before God. Job asks WHY. In our gospel reading, the man described as “having many possessions” asks Jesus what he must do “to inherit eternal life” and ends up being grieved by the answer.
God loves both Job and this young man. Both ask questions. Both are used to receiving answers. Yet their paths move from being parallel to each other to diverging sharply. Job never asserts he “deserved” the things and loved ones he’s lost, even though he DOES question why. The young man’s story contains numerous references to ownership, including “inherit,” “sell,” “own,” “give,” and “possession.” Could it be that his focus on acquisition has transformed eternal life into just another thing to be possessed?
Just a couple of weeks ago, Jesus urged his followers to get rid of everything that stood between them and their active love of God. And many things can stand between us and living a life of discipleship. It can be fear. It can be anger or resentment. It can be a time we asked for something in our prayers and didn’t get it. Anger, fear, resentment can be used to shield us from hurt—but oh, what a weight they are as well. Letting go of things like this can be scary—but liberating. Open hands and open hearts are required to have life eternal and abundantly—right now.
As we ponder this weekend’s readings, perhaps we are being challenged to let go of those things that give us an illusion of being invulnerable. Perhaps we are being encouraged to let go of those things that we use to hold other people at arms’ length, things that deaden our sense of empathy when we see or hear about suffering and fear that we may be asked to help.
Jesus offers us eternal life—and insists that it has already begun. That’s why Jesus repeatedly speaks of eternal life in the present tense. Jesus makes it clear that eternal life cannot be inherited. Inheritances are passed on at death. Life is to be lived—and life in God’s kingdom and by God’s wisdom especially so. Eternal life can, however, be lived and merely awaits our letting go of the baggage we carry that stands in our way of accepting it. Like all good news, eternal life is meant to be shared, uniting people rather than dividing them. Eternal life is freely given to us by God so that we can in turn, reflect that generosity and grace to others, especially those who need it most.
Open hands. Open Hearts. Open to life, and open to walking in love.
In Christ,
Mother Leslie+
