"Wise Investment Strategies" - August 11, 2013

Luke 12:32-40

            Jesus talked about how the way that we use our gifts here on earth being an investment in heaven.

“Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.” 

[Luke 12:33]

That’s been misused sometimes to extort money from people with the idea that somehow it’s possible to buy a place in heaven.  There were all kinds of barons across Western Europe in the Dark Ages who would keep their people essentially in slavery and then go off and slaughter their rivals or skirmish with their neighbors over next to nothing, then turn around and endow monasteries and great cathedrals as a way of (in their mind) compensating for their deeds.  While encouraging that kind of thought is an effective way to balance a church budget, it’s very bad theology.

            What Jesus teaches is that

“where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

[Luke 12:34]

That is a whole lot more profound, because it recognizes that where we direct whatever we value, whether it is money or time or effort, not only shows what is important to us but also anchors a part of us in the place where it goes. 

There’s a little-known story by J.R.R. Tolkien, nowhere near as famous as The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings, but thought-provoking in its own way, called Leaf by Niggle.  It’s the tale of a painter named Niggle who tries to paint a tree, but is always being interrupted.

“He was kind-hearted, in a way.  You know the sort of kind heart: it made him uncomfortable more often than it made him do anything; and even when he did anything, it did not prevent him from grumbling, losing his temper, and swearing (mostly to himself).  All the same, it did land him in a good many odd jobs for his neighbor, Mr. Parish, a man with a lame leg.  Occasionally he even helped other people from farther off, if they came and asked him to.”[1]

Tolkien was a faithful Christian, by the way, a Roman Catholic who was active in his local church, so you might see some kind of allegory here about an artist who’s always being interrupted in his “real work” by Mr. Parish.  I’m not going there, though.

            The point of mentioning this story is what happens to Niggle as it goes on.  The day comes when he is called to go on a long journey and finds himself in a beautiful forest that he suddenly realizes has sprung from the single tree that he struggled so long and hard to paint.  In the place he came from it was flat and two-dimensional, and he was never really satisfied with how it looked.  In the place he went, it was real and fully-formed.

“Before him stood the Tree, his Tree, finished.  If you could say that of a Tree that was alive, its leaves opening, its branches growing and bending in the wind that Niggle had so often felt or guessed, and had so often failed to catch.  He gazed at the Tree, and slowly he lifted his arms and opened them wide.  ‘It’s a gift!’ he said.”

Jesus said,

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  [Luke 12:32]

Too often, we think of that as a distant, future event – and that is what it is, in its fullness – but there are moments even here and now where the kingdom of God is among us.

            Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a sonnet called “Dante” that is about how he felt when he sat down to work on his translation of Dante’s poetry from Italian into English.

“Oft have I seen at some cathedral door 
A labourer, pausing in the dust and heat, 
Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet 
Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor 
Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; 
Far off the noises of the world retreat; 
The loud vociferations of the street 
Become an undistinguishable roar. 
So, as I enter here from day to day, 
And leave my burden at this minster gate, 
Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, 
The tumult of the time disconsolate 
To inarticulate murmurs dies away, 
While the eternal ages watch and wait.”

Longfellow's desk was the place where creative activity, touched by God’s grace, brought heaven closer for him.  I’ve heard other people, with other talents or other interests, remark that when they are woodworking or making music they sometimes have that feeling.  In the movie Chariots of Fire the Olympic runner Eric Liddell is asked about what it means for him to be a Christian athlete and he answers, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast.  And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”

            Those moments of creativity, of generosity, of love, of kindness, of mercy; all of those times when you put your whole self into something good, no matter whether anybody else appreciates what is happening or not: those are times when heaven is right at hand.  It isn’t that they earn us heaven; only Jesus does that for us.  They are a bit of heaven touching earth.  James, the brother of Jesus, wrote to us that

“Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” [James 1:17]

And one day, by God’s grace, we’ll see how very many such gifts we have known without even realizing it.  So, meanwhile,

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.  Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  [Luke 12:32-34] 

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[1] A pdf of the whole story can be found at http://www.scribd.com/doc/10232245/JRR-Tolkien-Leaf-by-Niggle .  You may have to load the page more than once before it appears.  Maybe that is symbolic – you’ll get it if you read the whole thing.