The Sin of Greed - August 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
2 Samuel 14:21-33; Acts 21:15-26; Mark 10:17-31

Our Gospel lesson for today was recently one of the Sunday morning readings as well, so I’ve been sitting with it for a while—the story of the rich man who runs up to Jesus, eager and sincere, asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. He’s kept all the commandments. Then Jesus looks at him, and says, “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own, give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

The man turns away, grieving, because he has many possessions.

Our country is in a tricky place—that may be the understatement of the century—but it’s worth looking beyond this moment to a deeper spiritual reality that has shaped humanity far longer than our current moment. Many say America’s original sin is slavery. But perhaps an even more encompassing answer is greed, which made the horrors of slavery possible.  And at every crisis we face greed is there stoking the flames of division.

Greed may be the trickiest of all sins—trickier than pride, envy, or anger—because it hides so well. It slips quietly into our lives, disguising itself as responsibility, security, even generosity. We might tell ourselves, “I’m just being wise” or “I’m planning for the future.” Those things are good—but greed twists them until accumulation becomes the quiet ruler of our hearts.  There is not a doubt in my mind that greed as at the root of the problems we face in our culture today.

Greed fuels injustice, deepens poverty, drives conflict, and feeds the fear that there will never be enough. It whispers that what we have is ours alone, and that giving it away will leave us with less, when in fact, in God’s economy, generosity is the currency of freedom.

When Jesus tells the man to sell all he has, he isn’t laying an impossible burden on him.  He is  offering him freedom. He’s inviting him into joy, into a life unbound from the anxious grip of “more.” The tragedy is that the man walks away sorrowful, still chained to what he owns.

I wonder how often we do the same.

So maybe the question isn’t only, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” but also, “What am I holding on to so tightly that it keeps me from following Jesus with trust, joy, and hope?” If we can name it, we can repent of it, and in God’s grace, find the freedom and generosity for which we were made.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: “What am I holding on to so tightly that it keeps me from following Jesus with trust, joy, and hope?”