Sunday 26 February 2017

The Seven Deadly Sins - Avarice

(Video Clip - 'Greed is Good')

A clip from the movie Wall Street which was released 30 years ago but still manages to sound frighteningly contemporary in today’s world.

According to Gordon Gekko, the character we’ve just been watching, greed is a virtue, not a vice. Something to be cultivated rather than condemned.

It’s greed that propels Gekko all the way to the top of the food chain in his chosen line of work; but ultimately it’s greed that brings his downfall.

And that phrase -‘greed is good’ - has entered our lexicon as a three word summary of the excesses of the 1980’s and 90’s. And it says a lot about where we are today that something the ancients considered a vice is now the engine of the Western Economy.

And Scotland’s partly to blame for that, you know!

Adam Smith, the celebrated 18th Century Scottish economist, was one of the first to make the argument that self-interest is necessary  for the economy. The brewer, the baker and the butcher put food on our table not because of altruism but because they’re looking after their own interests. Smith’s argument was that as ach of us works to look after ourselves and our own, more goods will be made and sold, and the economy will grow.

David Hume, a contemporary Scottish philosopher was inclined to agree – and went so far as to describe greed as ‘the spur of industry’.

But we need to be a wee bit clearer about those terms, I think. Self-interest, the natural inclination to make sure your own needs and those of your dependents are met, is one thing. Greed is something else. Greed is that restless seeking after more which goes far beyond need and is rarely, if ever, satisfied.

Self-interest can lead to mutual co-operation. Greed tends to lead to competition and aggression. You want an image of that – picture the crowds pushing through the doors of ASDA on Black Friday, knocking each other to the ground to try and get to the discounted televisions first.

For all that Smith and Hume were experts in their field, it seems to me that as Enlightenment optimists they failed to reckon with the realities of human nature.

And since their time, people have realised that vast sums of money can be made by playing on the fears and discontent of the population. Buy this cream, it will stop you ageing. Buy this car – it’ll do wonders for your image! Buy this phone – you don’t want to be left behind, do you?

But what happens in a society that’s lost its moral compass, when you let the advertising people keep stoking the fires of discontent and desire in people? What happens when you cultivate avarice in the population and then let the Gordon Gekkos ride off into the sunset with all the money, having broken the system that we’re all relying on?

This is what happens: (Video of 2011 riots in England)

Those images were from 2011 and around that time it seemed that everywhere we looked we were seeing the naked face of greed. Not just in young folk trashing shops and stealing stuff. In politicians pocketing huge expenses, in fat cats getting paid vast bonuses for presiding over failure. In footballers getting paid more in a week than a carer earns in a decade.

Greed might appear good if it works for you, Mr Gekko. But it doesn’t seem to do much for society.

And maybe that’s why Jesus had more to say about avarice than any other sin. Lust and Gluttony – the fleshly sins - are obvious targets for disapproval; and yet Jesus didn’t say nearly as much about them as about greed, which often goes well disguised in a good suit and a capable manner. Lust turns people into things; gluttony covets food and drink as things. Avarice turns everything into a thing.

Avarice is always about More and More and More, and though the focus might seem to be on possessions, it’s much more to do with possessing.

Greed tells us that if we buy the next thing, we’ll be better for it. Another rung up on the ladder, a bit more secure, a little more happy and fulfilled. People will think more highly of us.

And when you boil that down, greed is really about our need for security and status. The person who’s prone to greed is trying to validate themselves through what they buy, rather than trusting in God for their self worth and their identity.

In one sense, having things isn’t really the issue with greed. You can be wealthy and generous to a fault; you can be poor and totally avaricious. What counts is the attitude of your heart towards material things.

How much do they matter to you? How much does your self-worth depend on them?

Greed exerts power in our lives by making us believe that fulfilment lies in acquiring things, and making us discontent with what we have, even if what we have is already more than enough.

One of our friends loves interior design and although she has a lovely home, she’s always dreaming about ways that she can improve it and make it better. She gets a monthly magazine called Country Living which is full of beautiful pictures of gorgeously decorated houses which scarcely look lived in, though she knows that with four growing kids her home is never going to look that good!

And when the magazine arrives in the post her husband always brings it to her with a wry smile and says – ‘here’s your home porn, darling!’

She’s lusting after these beautiful, unattainable images and when she stops and thinks about it, she knows that all it does is make her unhappy with what she already has, which is more than enough.

Greed promises fulfilment, but it doesn’t deliver because we weren’t made to live on bread alone, on things alone, but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.

And it promises security – but no amount of possessions can guarantee that.

I know I’ve read this to you before, but it’s good enough to warrant a second hearing. It’s by Steve Turner and it’s called 500 Million Pounds.

The Earl of Grosvenor has five hundred million pounds.
He is honeymooning in Hawaii.
Five hundred million pounds,
and he still has to honeymoon somewhere in the world….

He has married Natalia. She is not my sort of girl!
Five hundred million pounds,
and he marries someone who is not my sort of girl.

The Earl of Grosvenor carries a heavy black suitcase in his right hand.
He begins to sweat. Damp patches begin to form under his arms,
as if he were a labourer, or an unemployed man,
carrying a heavy black suitcase.

I expect he wishes he’d brought his handkerchief
I expect he worries about flying.
I expect he wonders whether Natalia really loves him.
I expect he wonders what it would be like
to have only 450 million pounds.

The Earl of Grosvenor takes off.
He knows that disaster can come to anyone.
He knows that the sea is no respecter of persons.
Five hours in the air, and he is restless.
Five hundred million pounds, and he is restless.

45% of Lottery winners tell us that their win hasn’t made them happier. 1 in 3 go bankrupt, having spent all their winnings within five years.

Greed promises all kinds of things, but it can’t deliver on them.

And our Bible story this morning illustrates that to perfection.

Ahab was undoubtedly the worst king in Israel’s history. He and his equally wicked wife Jezebel were notorious. And maybe that’s part of the reason Naboth knocks him back when he asks him to sell his vineyard.

And as is the way of it, Ahab’s request sounds perfectly reasonable to his ears. Greed always does to the one who’s being greedy. “Let me have your vineyard; it’s close to my palace, and I want to use the land for a vegetable garden.”

And there are the tell tale words – “I want”. Not “I need” or “I wonder if” or “would you be interested in” but I want.  He’s King. Plenty of other places he might choose to plant his tatties. But he wants this particular piece of land.

For Ahab, this vineyard’s just another thing he wants, and everything has its price.

But for Naboth, it’s more than a thing. It’s his heritage. His kids’ inheritance. He’s got roots and memories here, a long investment of time and effort. And you can’t put a price on that. He’s not interested in moving. And he tells Ahab so.

And look how Ahab responds – it’s an almost visceral reaction, which is usually a sign that something’s become too important to us. He gets depressed and angry, takes himself off home, refuses to eat, takes to his bed like a sulking child.

When we don’t have God to tell us who we are, and we trust our possessions and acquisitions to do that for us, getting a knock back like this feels like a slight on you as a person. It cuts very deep.

And in this frame of mind, Ahab has no thought for the vast resources that he already has. All the other places he could develop. All that’s in view just now is the one thing he really wants – Naboth’s vineyard.

And Jezebel, clearly wearing the trousers in that house, tells him to man up (King-up!) and pull himself together.  She’ll get the land for him, no matter what the cost.

And indeed she does. But look where their greed takes them.

I’d said earlier that part of the reason God’s so against greed is what it does to our societies. Can you imagine what Jezebel’s plan did to the local community as Naboth was taken away and executed? Can you imagine the arguments and the hatred  that would grow up between those who knew he was innocent and those who’d falsely accused him? That village would never be the same.

But things don’t end there. Ahab’s still humming to himself and picking a few grapes off his newly acquired vine when Elijah arrives and chillingly prophesies his death. “In the very place that the dogs licked up Naboth’s blood, they will lick up your blood.”

Greed promises so much. Security, happiness and fulfilment. But the truth is, in the end, it can’t deliver on any of them.

It’s in God that we find those things, at their deepest level. And when our roots are deep in him, we’re freed to operate not out of greed, but its opposite, which isn’t poverty, but generosity.

Some of the wealthiest people I know have been the most generous with what they own, and that’s because they treat what they own as something they have on loan from God – not their own private possession.

It might surprise you to know that the most frequent command to folk with wealth in the Bible isn’t to give it all away – it’s to be generous with what they have.

We’ve never had a lot of money as a family, but when we were down in Glasgow and living in a tied house we bought a bungalow in Arrochar near Loch Lomond as a wee bolthole and to keep a toe in the market. And one of the pleasures of having that place was being able to offer it to people who just needed a day or a weekend away, or maybe a longer break in the summer. Friends and family, yes, but in the areas we worked in there were families who rarely got out of the city and once we’d built up some trust with them, we were able to say to a few of them – here are the keys. Get yourselves up into the hills for a few days. We’re happy to let you use the place. You’d have thought we were giving them the crown jewels.

It was a risk, sure – but in four years it never backfired on us and we had nothing but gratitude in return. We were blessed in blessing those folk, and we got back from them at least as much as we gave.

Greed divides. Generosity brings people together.

Greed is chasing after the next thing that promises to make me happy.

Generosity is being grateful for what I already have and asking how I can use it to make others happy.

Greed says ‘I want more’

Generosity says ‘I already have enough’

Greed springs from our human insecurity.

Generosity flows from a life that’s already secure in God.

There’s a story told about a monk who was sleeping under a tree outside a village. When he woke up the next morning a man rushed up to him and said ‘the stone – the stone. You have to give me the stone!”

“What stone?”, said the monk.

“I had a dream last night, and in my dream I met an angel who told me that I’d meet a monk today and he’d give me a stone that would make me rich beyond my wildest dreams!”

Monk fished around in his backpack and pulled out a large rock. “Here,” he said. “it must be this one. I found it up in the mountains a while back. You can have it if you like. It’s a diamond”

And sure enough, it was a huge rough diamond, about the size of your fist. And the man went back into the village thanking God and jumping for joy.

Later that day, after the monk had gone several miles on his way, he heard footsteps behind him, and turned round to discover the same man running after him.

He fell panting at the monk’s feet, dug the stone out of his pocket and gave it back to him. And then he looked up at him and said: “I want you to give me the inner riches that make it possible for you to give away this stone”.


May we all know more of those inner riches, and the generosity, that flows from a life that’s secure in God.

The Seven Deadly Sins - Pride

I’ll start this morning with this quotation from the philosopher John Paul Sartre.

“Hell is other people” he said.

And all the introverts in the room said ‘Amen’!. While all the extroverts said ‘rubbish!;.

But what’s the solution, if you feel that other people are the problem? The obvious answer is to get as far away from them as possible! Which observation cues you up nicely for this little piece of history.

Way back in the 4th century AD, after years of persecution and martyrdom, suddenly it became legitimate to be a Christian. The emperor Constantine converted in 312 BC and in the space of about a hundred years, Christianity became the established religion of the empire – sponsored by Emperors and protected in law.

But not everybody was happy with that state of affairs.

Before Constantine, only the very committed lived out their Christian faith in public, because they knew they could be killed for it. But when Christianity became legitimate, every Tom Dick and Harriet started jumping on the bandwagon, regardless of how committed they were to the faith.

Almost overnight, it became culturally and politically expedient to be a Christian, at least on the surface, and many genuine believers saw that as a dilution of the faith and witness of the church.

So what did they do? They decided to leave the towns and cities and make their home in the desert , where they could live purer. simpler lives of devotion to God. It was the start of the movement that we call monasticism, and the stories of the men and women who made that journey, and tried to live that kind of life, have a lot to teach us today, Because they did everything they could to leave sin behind, only to discover that they took it with them into the desert, because sin’s a part of our human condition and it follows us wherever we go.

They discovered that the way to deal with sin isn’t to run from it; it’s to understand it; name it, and seek Christ’s help in overcoming it.

And they also realised that hell isn’t other people. In the desert they discovered that that they couldn’t live this life alone. They needed one another’s help to make the journey of faith; and so even the most isolated would still gather together in community now and again for fellowship and support.

And in that spiritual laboratory of the desert, the monks began to examine the roots of how sin worked in their lives. And one monk in particular, Evagrius of Pontus  came to understand that sin has its origins in our thought life. Something that’s affirmed in the letter of James in the New Testament where he says

“each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full–grown, gives birth to death.”

On the basis of his own experience, and that of his peers, for whom he was a confessor, Evagrius classified eight deadly thoughts that tended to draw a monk towards sin. And they are  thoughts about food, thoughts about sex, thoughts about possessions, thoughts about sadness, about anger, about nothing, about what others think of you, about the self.

And you’ll see straight away that there are close parallels with the Seven Deadly Sins we were speaking about last week, and that’s because the spiritual leaders in the centuries after Evagrius drew on his work as they tried to take this thinking out of the monastic setting and open it up to the wider church.

And it’s worth making a point that Evagrius wanted to emphasise.  Having the thought is not committing a sin. It’s when you entertain the thought and allow it to lead you off somewhere, that’s when the problems start. As somebody once said, you can’t stop the birds flying over your head, but you can stop them from making a nest in your hair!

So that’s a wee bit of background we didn’t manage to cover last week. But the real business of today is with the sin that many think is the granddaddy of them all. Pride.

Professor Willie Barclay  writes that “Pride is the ground in which all the other sins grow, and the parent from which all the other sins come.”

And it’s fitting that pride should come at the top of the list, because that’s what pride is all about. It’s about being number 1, whatever the cost.

Pride turns ‘thy will be done’ into ‘my will be done’. It turns love the lord your God with heart, soul, strength and mind’ into ‘love yourself with heart, soul, strength and mind’. Pride places self at the centre and God, if he’s deferred to at all, firmly on the margins.

Biblically  pride is our refusal to accept our status as creatures. Something within us doesn’t like playing second fiddle to anyone, even if that person is God.

Anyone in possession of a self, and I think that’s most of us here, will always be tempted to put the desires of our own self before the desires of the God who made us. And that is the essence of pride.

Tradition holds that pride was the first sin. Adam and Eve wanted the fruit from the tree not just because it looked good, but because the devil promised that if they ate it, they would be like God, knowing good from evil.” They ate because they weren’t content to be creatures – they wanted to be like God.

And Tradition also holds that the devil himself is a fallen angel, cast out of heaven because his pride led him to rebel against God.

The first commandment is ‘You shall have no other Gods before me’ and the voice of pride says ‘Oh yes I will. I think I’ll be my own God, thank you very much’.

And the story we heard read this morning, the story of the tower of Babel is a paradigm for what happens when pride takes over our thinking.

Why do they set out on this epic building project? The writer tells us - “They wanted to make a name for themselves.” The implication being, that the name of being God’s creatures, God’s children wasn’t enough for them. They wanted more.

So they harness a new technology to their own ends. Baking bricks and cementing them together is much faster than quarrying and dressing stone, though it’s ultimately less stable.

They work together on the project. The human race gathers together in a city, neglecting the fields, for the pursuit of this one goal, made possible through a common language.

And so the tower rises quickly, reaching towards the heavens. And some commentators wonder if this is another attempt of primitive man to gain parity God – to climb to his dwelling place and so become equal with him. “Look at this mighty tower! Is there anything we can’t do?” they say.

But God, looking down from the heavens, sees this vast tower as a tiny speck. He goes down to see what they’re up to and says ‘we can’t let this happen. Soon they’ll be able to do anything they want.” Which sounds a little threatened at first, but it’s not himself God’s concerned for here, it’s them. They’re like a toddler playing with a loaded gun. They have no idea where all of this might end.  And the solution, of course, is to carefully take the gun away before anyone gets hurt.

And so, in the story, God scatters the people and mixes up their languages to defuse the situation. He places obstacles of distance and communication in the way to make it harder for humanity to do this kind of thing again.  Though history clearly shows it hasn’t stopped us trying.

The people in the story wanted to make a name for themselves, and not be scattered all over the earth.  

Where are they at the end of the story? Confused and scattered, because in their pride, they went their own sweet way in defiance of God.

TS Eliot  is surely right to observe that “most of the trouble in the world is caused by people wanting to be important.”

Now let’s bring this home a little. It’s fine talking about Adam and Eve and Babel, and speaking about pride in general terms. But what’s all this got to say to you and me?

Well firstly, I think I need to point out that not all pride is bad.

As I was shaking hands with someone after church last Sunday he was saying I must be proud seeing Rhona Ross and Mairi up at the front together and leading worship. And he’s right – it’s lovely to see them helping out, now that they’ve got to a stage in their playing where they’re able to contribute in that way.

And I’m proud of them not because they’re better than others, but because of the dedication they’ve put in to learning to play. I’m celebrating the way they’ve honed and developed the gifts God’s given them.  That’s a perfectly legitimate form of pride.

And when you see your children or grandhchildren dancing, or playing sport, or performing, or graduating, or getting married – you’re rightly proud of them. And there’s nothing wrong with that kind of pride – all you’re doing is celebrating their achievements with them.

And it’s the same with your own achievements. You can be proud of your hard work, and the things you accomplish in life. But what we’re not allowed to do is to then judge ourselves to be superior to others because of it.

I said earlier that pride is our refusal to accept our status as creatures.

When we remember our place in the created order, it helps keep us humble. It helps us remember that each man and woman is a fellow human being, not an enemy. Not a rival. And it reminds us that our ultimate worth is not in what we have, but in who we are – children of God who are made in his image.

But when we forget that central truth that gives us our validity, we go looking for affirmation in all kinds of other places. And it seems to me that that’s one of the main malaises of our times.

Some look for affirmation in others. Evagrius called that vainglory, and it’s not as bad as full blown pride but it’s still not pretty.

Think of the narcissism of the selfie culture . The new technology we have allows us to build a new image.  I will post these carefully selected photographs because I need your approval if I’m going to feel good about myself. I will obsess about how I look because what you think of me is the true measure of my worth. Industries are built on those kinds of thoughts.

Vainglory says ‘I need your affirmation to boost my self-esteem’. Pride goes a step further and says ‘I don’t need anyone’s affirmation to boost my self esteem’. 

So I heard this week that Donald Trump’s going to be the best president since Abraham Lincoln. Who says so? Donald Trump.

Pride leads to self-delusion. It also breeds intolerance. Why would I need to listen to your opinion when I already have my own and I know it’s right? A closed mind is often a sign of a proud mind. A mind that’s already decided there’s nothing more to learn.

Pride leads to arrogance. We get inflated ideas about our own importance and what we’re able to achieve. We pat ourselves on the back for building the Burj Khalifa  and collecting rocks from Mars, and raising our own country’s GDP, but we turn a blind eye to the fact that half the planet is living on less than a dollar a day.

And pride also leads to touchiness and thin skin. If the story is all about me, your purpose in life is to defer to me and stroke my ego and if you don’t do your job properly I’m going to get offended.

Trainspotting  was a seminal film that came out in the late 90’s and it’s the movie that really made Ewan MacGregor a star. It was directed by Danny Boyle, who went on to stage the opening ceremony at the 2012 Olympics, and back in those days the two men had a really good relationship.

But as both of them became more successful, Danny made a decision to cast Leonardo Di Caprio in a movie instead of Macgregor, and their relationship broke down completely. They didn’t speak to one another for years.

Macgregor tells a story of being on a long-haul flight back to the UK from the Far East, and as it turned out there were only three people travelling first class on that trip. He, his wife, and further up the plane, Danny Boyle. He spent the whole 10 hour flight trying to summon the will to  go and speak to him and try and sort things out, But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Pride.

It’s only in the last couple of years that they’ve managed to overcome that fallout and patch things up.

And that last story leads to a closing word on the antidote to pride, which is humility. The beatitude of being poor in spirit.

And the essence of that, it seems to me, is remembering your creatureliness.

Mother Teresa says  “If you are humble, nothing will touch you. Neither praise nor disgrace. Because you know what you are.”

If you know you are God’s beloved child, that is enough for any ego. Everything else is secondary; surface. It doesn’t penetrate to the roots of who you are because your heart and mind are secure in God.

And when you know that in your bones, you can sit lightly with your accomplishments. CS Lewis says the perfectly humble person would be able to create the most spectacular cathedral that’s ever been built, but be just as happy to walk through it and marvel at it if someone else had been the designer.

Humility allows you to sit lightly with your accomplishments; but also with the setbacks and the slights that will inevitably come your way in life. You know that you’re not defined by success or failure or what people think of you. You’re defined by the love that God has for you. That’s the pole star – the light you navigate life by. And you really don’t need anything else.

John the evangelist writes movingly about the last evening Jesus spent with his disciples before the crucifixion.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel round his waist. 5After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped round him. 

And the key word to note there is ‘so’. He knew who he was. He knew where he’d come from and where he was going, so he got up from the meal and washed the disciples feet.

His security in who he was gave him the freedom to serve. To be a servant King.

  
A wise man once said that only the secure can be humble.

Pride, in all its manifestations, is about the frantic search for security – to make a name for ourselves.

Humility is the very opposite. It’s resting in the name God has already given us, when he looks us full in the face and says – you are my beloved child.