Not my money. Those were the words my seminary class was encouraged to repeat over and over again by the canon law professor. He was speaking about the rector’s discretionary fund, a pot of money intended only for supporting those in need of charity. The professor was right, of course. The money stays at the church even after a rector leaves. It’s not the rector’s money; it’s the church’s money. Well, actually, it’s not even the church’s money. It’s God’s money.
Not my money. I have been reflecting on that phrase this week, especially after the spring Rogation Days (Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of this week). Rogation Days seem anachronistic, as they are the product of pre-technological cultures, in which it was considered necessary to ask for God’s blessing on the harvest. But Rogation Days are not anachronistic. We need them now, more than ever, when we litter the earth, waste natural resources, pollute the air, and neglect the care of this planet entrusted to our hands. Not our planet. But what do Rogation Days have to do with money? Quite a lot, actually. This past Rogation Wednesday at the Mass celebrated during our program retreat sponsored by the retreat house, the Gospel was from Luke 12, the parable of the rich fool. This man has such an abundant harvest that he decided to pull down his existing barns to build larger ones, to store up provisions for the future. By today’s standard, this man would be considered smart. He is practical and preparing for his future. He’s a good businessman. Having implemented his practical provisions, he could “relax, eat, drink, be merry.” The poor guy had no idea that he was about to die. So what use were his attempts at financial security?
Not my money. Our money is not ours, nor is anything we may harvest. The earth that’s in our care is not ours either, so in stewarding all things, our hearts and minds are directed back to God and God’s intentions for what has been loaned to us. Not my money. Not our goods. Not our bodies. Not even our souls. They all belong to God. But this is not what we usually think, and why? Because we are given constant messages that there is never enough. You will not have enough money for retirement. You will not have enough savings to put your children through school, or even preschool now! Your children will not have enough “things” on their portfolios to get into the right university. You will not have enough time to care for your health and prosper in your job. You will not have enough money to buy groceries and give to the church. You do not have enough talents to compete with that other person for the job you want. The list goes on and on.
The temptation is, like the rich fool, to hoard. We hoard, and then if there is anything left, we make a gift to the church. Or we give to a charity. But the order is all wrong. Not my money. None of it belongs to us, and so it is foolish to pretend as if it is. To believe that God is abundantly kind, merciful, gracious, compassionate, and caring is to trust that when we do something scary like, first, give back to God, perhaps we’ll be just fine in the end. Why do we always assume that God will not care for us? This isn’t tempting God. It’s simply believing in the God revealed to us in Jesus Christ, whose death on the cross was not a waste but the salvation of the whole world. To believe that being generous is not reckless is difficult, I know. But it is nothing less than remembering that everything comes from God. Not mine but God’s.
What the rich fool in Luke 12 forgot were the injunctions back in the Book of Leviticus (chapter 19) not to reap the harvest to the very edges of the land but to leave something for those who are in need. Not my harvest. In a book that we love to hate sometimes, we find some of the kindest, most generous commands imaginable. If what we “have” is really not ours at all, then it belongs not only to God but to those whom God wishes to give it.
And of course, this speaks to the most obvious elephant in the room. What about those among us who do find it difficult to buy groceries or find a meal? What about those who do suffer from genuine material poverty? God has given us a solution back in Leviticus. It’s an imperative that those who are blessed with material abundance and wealth not reap to the edges of their harvest. Save some for the stranger. There is plenty of wealth out there to go around. God has indeed provided for all. There is abundance.
To be a Christian in 2023 is to live in radical contrast to an anxious age: we are to live as if there is always enough. Always, full stop, end of story. We are to take chances of generosity, even if we think it will jeopardize our future. Of course, it doesn’t mean that we fail to live wisely or ensure that those who depend on us will be cared for. It just means that we refuse to live from a place of anxiety and choose to live from a place of trust. I suspect that none of us will actually end up jeopardizing our future because we decide to be extravagantly generous. In my own experience, I have never seen that happen. But above all, we must ask ourselves this: what good does it do us to be anxious about having enough? Indeed, what good at all, when Jesus has taught us to trust and believe in a God with whom there is always enough?
Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle