Some Thoughts from St. Basil - June 4

Today's Reading: Mat. 14:13-21

It is a common interpretation of the miracle of the loaves and fishes: Did Jesus multiply the loaves and fish, or did the crowd, moved by the generosity of others, begin sharing what they had been holding back for their own security? Either way, it would be miraculous. We often struggle to let go of what we think we need, and yet that struggle lies at the heart of the spiritual life.

I have gotten a jump start on my summer reading, and the book that first grabbed my attention was On Social Justice by St. Basil the Great. Of course, that title was given by a translator to this collection of sermons, but it is striking that such a title could describe the writings of someone who lived in the middle of the fourth century. Basil served as Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia, in what is now modern-day Turkey. He is often considered the father of Eastern monasticism and is perhaps best known for theological writings that helped shape the Church's understanding of the Trinity.

St. Basil believed that wealth carried a responsibility toward those in need. Here are some excerpts that have been challenging my own understanding of wealth:

“Yet you say, ‘I will enjoy all these things during my life, but after my death I will leave my goods to the poor, making them beneficiaries of my will and granting them all my possessions.’ When you are no longer among your fellow human beings, then you will become a philanthropist!... You deserve great thanks for your magnanimity, since you became so generous and noble-hearted after you were laid in the grave and your body had dissolved in the earth.”

In another sermon, Basil writes:

“‘I will pull down my barns and build larger ones.’ But if you fill these larger ones, what do you intend to do next? Will you tear them down yet again only to build them up once more? What could be more ridiculous than this incessant toil, laboring to build and then laboring to tear down again? If you want storehouses, you have them in the stomachs of the poor. Lay up for yourself treasure in heaven. The things deposited there are not devoured by moths, nor are they spoiled by corruption, nor do thieves break in and steal them. But you reply, ‘I will give to the needy when I have filled the second set of barns.’ You are so sure that the years of your life will be many; beware, lest death the pursuer catch up to you sooner than you expect!”

I wonder how St. Basil's sermons would be received from the pulpit of an Episcopal church. His words seem as relevant today as they were sixteen centuries ago. It is no surprise that during a famine he sold family property to feed the hungry and establish charitable institutions for those in need.

Most of us have good intentions about the full trajectory of our lives. We plan to be generous. We plan to give back. We plan to make a difference. Yet deep down, most of us know that generosity is not merely a decision to be made someday. It is a spiritual practice to be lived today.

Perhaps it would have been an even greater miracle if the crowds had shared what they most cherished and believed they needed for themselves. Maybe that is part of the miracle after all—not simply that bread multiplied, but that hearts were opened. And perhaps that remains the invitation before us today.

John+

Self-Reflection Question:
What am I holding onto out of fear or security that God may be inviting me to share, offer, or trust into the hands of others?