Trust God - Not Stuff

 

Trust God – Not Stuff

Trust God - Not Stuff/ Audio-Visual 

The ground of a certain rich man produced a good crop. He thought to himself, “What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.” Then he said, “This is what I'll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I'll say to myself, ‘You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.’” But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?” This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God. (Luke 12:16-21)

A Monopoly champion is sitting in your office this morning. The guy spends all day, every day slam-dunking the competition, collecting houses, Park Places and make-believe money the way Solomon collected wives. He never goes to jail, always passes Go, and has permanent addresses on Pacific and Pennsylvania Avenues. No one has more money than he does. And now he wants you to help him invest it. You are, after all, a financial planner. You speak the language of stocks and annuities; have ample experience with IRA’s, mutual funds and securities. But all of your experience didn't prepare you for his request. Yet there he sits in your office, encircled by bags of pink cash and little plastic buildings.

"I have 314 Park Places, 244 Boardwalks and enough Reading Railroads to circle the globe ten times over." And you’re thinking, “Is this guy for real?” But you do your best to be polite. "Seems you've amassed quite a Monopoly fortune." He crosses his arms and smiles. "Yeah, and I'm ready for you to put it to work. It's time for me to sit back and take it easy. Let someone else monopolize Monopoly for a while." You take another look at his stacks of funny money and toy real estate and abandon all tact. "Sir, you're an idiot. Your currency has no value. Outside of your game, it's worthless. I'm sorry to tell you, but you've made a foolish mistake." Strong words. But if that’s what you’re thinking, you’re in God’s company: “Fool! You will die this very night. Then who will get everything you worked for?” (Luke 12:20)

The fellow in the parable seems to be a decent guy. Sharp enough to turn a profit and savvy enough to enjoy a windfall. For all we know he made his fortune honestly. We empathize with him because – truth be told – we want to learn from his success. Maybe he’s authored a book like Bigger Barns for Retirement. Or, maybe he gives seminars on how to “Recession-Proof Your Barn in Twelve Easy Steps." Because doesn't the barn stuffer model responsible planning? And yet Jesus crowns him with the pointy hat of a dunce. Where’d the guy mess up?

Jesus answers that question by populating three sentences with a swarm of personal pronouns. Reread the heart of the parable, noting the heart of the investor: And he thought to himself, saying, "What shall I do since I have no room to store my crops?" So, he said, "I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build greater ones, and there I will store all my crops and all my goods. And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years; take your ease, eat, drink and be merry.'" (vv. 18-19) This rich man indwelled a one-room mansion of mirrors. He looked north, south, east and west and saw the same guy – himself. Six “I’s,” and five “My’s.” No they. No thee. Just me. And even when he said you, he was talking to himself, i.e., "You have many goods. Take your ease." And so, he did.

He successfully hoarded enough stuff so he could wine, dine and recline. He unpacked the moving vans, set up his bank accounts, pulled on his swim trunks and dove into the backyard pool. The problem was he forgot to fill the pool with water. So, he hit his head on the concrete and woke up in the presence of God who wasn’t impressed with his portfolio. The truth is that the rich fool went to the wrong person ("He thought to himself") and asked the wrong question ("What shall I do?"). His error was not that he planned, but rather that his plans didn't include God. Jesus didn’t criticize the man's affluence but his arrogance, not the presence of personal goals but the absence of God in those goals. What if he'd taken his money to the right person (God) with the right question? ("What do you want me to do?") Unfortunately, the accumulation of wealth is a popular defense against economic anxiety.

We fear losing our jobs, health care or retirement benefits, so we amass possessions thinking that the more we have the safer we are. The same insecurity motivated Babel's tower builders. (Gen. 11) The people feared being scattered and separated. But rather than turning to God, they turned to stuff. They accumulated and stacked. They heaped mortar and bricks and mutual funds and IRA’s and savings accounts. They stockpiled pensions, possessions and property. Their tower of stuff grew so tall they got a neckache looking at it. "We’re safe!" they announced at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. "No, you’re not," God corrected. And the Babel-builders began to babble, eventually leaving it all behind.

Today, we engineer stock and investment levies, and take cover behind the hedge of hedge funds. We trust annuities and pensions to the point that balance sheets determine our moods. But then come the Katrina-level recessions and downturns, and the confusion begins all over again. If there were no God, stuff-trusting would be the only appropriate response to an uncertain future. But there is a God. And this God doesn’t want his children to trust money. He responded to the folly of the rich man with a flurry of "Don’t worry" appeals. "Don’t worry about your life. . . . Don’t seek what you should eat or what you should drink or have an anxious mind." (Luke 12:22,29) In other words, don't be high on financial cents but low on spiritual sense. Instead, "Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." (v. 32)

This is the only occasion when Jesus calls us his "little flock." And sheep, as you know, aren’t the brightest crayons in the box, and – sometimes – neither are we. Yet we have a shepherd who will not let us go unclothed or unfed. "I have never seen the godly abandoned or their children begging for bread." (Ps. 37:25) And when homes foreclose or pensions evaporate, we need a shepherd. Thankfully, in Christ, we have one. And his "good pleasure [is] to give you the kingdom." In fact, giving characterizes God's creation. From the first page of Scripture God is presented as a philanthropic creator. He produces in pluralities: stars, plants, birds and animals. Every gift, like shopping at Costco, arrives in bulk and in multiples. Scrooge didn't create the world; God did. God is the great giver. The great provider. The fount of every blessing. Absolutely generous, and utterly dependable.

The resounding and recurring message of Scripture is clear: God owns it all but shares it all. So, trust him, not stuff. “Command those who are rich in this present age not to be haughty, nor to trust in uncertain riches but in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy. Let them do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to give, willing to share, storing up for themselves a good foundation for the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life.” (1 Tim. 6:17-19)

Are you "rich in this present age?" Almost half the world – more than three billion people – live on less than $2.50 a day. So, if your income’s higher than that you’re rich, and your affluence demands vigilance because the abundance of possessions has a way of eclipsing God no matter how meager you may think those possessions may be. There is a predictable progression from poverty to pride. As God said through Hosea, "When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me." (Hos. 13:6) So, how can a person survive prosperity? Don’t be haughty.

Don’t think for a moment that you had anything to do with your accumulation. Scripture makes one thing clear. Your stocks, cash and 401(k)? They aren’t yours. “To the Lord your God belong the heavens, even the highest heavens, the earth and everything in it.” (Deut. 10:14) “’The silver is mine and the gold is mine,’ declares the Lord Almighty.” (Hag. 2:8) Tragically, the rich fool in Jesus' story missed this point. But the wise woman Jesus spotted in the temple one day didn’t. (Mark 12:42-44)

The dear woman was down to her last two cents, yet rather than spending them on bread she returned them to God. Wall Street financial gurus would have urged her to cut back on her giving. In fact, the investment counselors would have applauded the investment strategy of the barn builder and discouraged the generosity of the widow. Jesus did just the opposite. His hero of financial stewardship was a poor woman who placed her entire portfolio in the offering plate. Do not put your "trust in uncertain riches." Or, as one translation reads, "[the rich] must not be haughty nor set their hope on riches – that unstable foundation." (1 Tim. 6:17)

Money is an unstable foundation. Take the United States’ economy, for instance. It’s endured eleven recessions between 1948 and 2022. These downturns have lasted an average of ten months and resulted in the loss of billions of dollars. In other words, every six years or so the economy dumps its suitors and starts over. So, what would you think of a man who did that to a woman? What word would you use to describe a husband who philandered his way through eleven different wives over 70 years? And what word would you use to describe wife number twelve? Right. Foolish. So don’t be that woman.

David said, “Don’t be impressed with those who get rich and pile up fame and fortune. They can’t take it with them; it all gets left behind. Just when they think they’ve arrived and folks praise them because they’ve made good, they enter the family burial plot where they’ll never see sunshine again. We aren’t immortal. We don’t last long. Like our dogs, we age and weaken. And die.” (Ps. 49:16-20)

God owns everything and gives us all things to enjoy. He’s a good shepherd to us, his little flock. So, trust him and not stuff. Move from the fear of scarcity to the comfort of provision. Less hoarding, more sharing. Have you ever noticed that the word “miser” is just one letter short of the word “misery”? So instead, "do good . . . be rich in good works, ready to give, willing to share." (1. Tim. 6:18) And, most of all, replace anxiety about the future with faith in the present, living God. After all, it's just Monopoly money and it all goes back in the box when the game’s over.

Grace,

Randy

God Wastes No Pain

God Wastes No Pain

God Wastes No Pain - Audio/Visual 

So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. (Matt. 10:26-28)

Arguably the greatest golfer in the history of the sport sat down to eat his breakfast, never suspecting that it would be his last. Byron Nelson had slept well the night before, better than he had in days, in fact. He was ninety-four years old, living with his wife on their ranch near Fort Worth, Texas, where he resided peacefully until God called him home. After washing the dishes, he sat down to listen to a favorite Christian radio broadcast. His wife, Peggy, left for a Bible study at church. She returned a few hours later to find Byron on the floor. No sign of pain or struggle. His good heart had just stopped.

Then there’s Boris Kornfeld. Russia in the early 1950’s needed no excuse to imprison its citizens. Question the Communist regime and you’d find yourself walking the frozen tundra behind the barbed wires of a concentration camp. Boris did. No known record of his crime survives, only the sketchy details of his life. Born a Jew. Trained as a physician. Befriended by a believer in Christ who helped Kornfeld connect the promised Messiah of the old covenant with the Nazarene of the new. Following Jesus went against every fiber of his ancestry, but in the end that’s what he chose to do. And it cost him his life.

He saw a guard stealing bread from a dying man. Now, prior to his conversion, Kornfeld would have ignored the crime. This time, his conscience compelled him to tell someone about it. And it was only a matter of time before the other guards would get even. But Kornfeld, even though in danger, was at complete peace. His only desire was to tell someone about his discovery before he lost his life. And that opportunity came in the form of a cancer patient – a fellow prisoner who was recovering from abdominal surgery. Left alone with him in the recovery room, Kornfeld urgently whispered his story. He poured out every detail. The young man was stirred but so groggy from the anesthesia that he fell asleep. When he awoke, he asked to see the physician. But it was too late. During the night someone had dealt the doctor eight blows to the head with a plasterer's hammer.

Byron Nelson and Boris Kornfeld embraced the same convictions. They anchored their hope to the same rock. They set their sights on the same heaven. They trusted in the same Savior. Yet one passed into heaven on a pathway of peace, the other through a maelstrom of brutality. Frankly, if given the choice, I'd like to go out like Mr. Nelson.

Contrary to what we'd like to hope, good people aren't exempt from violence. Murderers don't give the godly a pass. Rapists don't vet their victims based upon their spiritual resumes. The bloodthirsty and wicked don't skip over the heaven bound. We aren't insulated. But neither are we intimidated. Jesus has a word or two to say about this brutal world: "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul." Matt. 10:28)

The disciples needed that affirmation, too, because Jesus had just told them to expect scourging, trials, death, hatred and persecution. (Matt. 10: 17-23) Not the kind of locker room pep talk that rallies the team, I’m afraid. To their credit, however, none defected. Maybe that’s because of the fresh memory of Jesus' flexed muscles in a Gadarene graveyard. Because just two chapters earlier, Jesus had taken his disciples to "the other side into the country of the Gadarenes, [where] two men who were demon-possessed met him as they were coming out of the tombs. They were so extremely violent that no one could pass by that way. And they cried out, saying, 'What business do we have with each other, Son of God? Have You come here to torment us before the time?'" (Matt. 8:28-29)

The most dramatic and immediate reactions to the presence of God on earth emerged from demons just like these. These two men were demon possessed and, consequently, "extremely violent." People walked wide detours around the cemetery to avoid them. But not Jesus. He marched in like he owned the place. The stunned demons never expected to see Jesus in the devil's playground on the foreign side of Galilee – the region of pagans and pigs. Jews avoided these places. Jesus didn't.

And the contest between good and evil lasted a matter of seconds. Christ is fire, and demons are rats on the ship. They scurried overboard at first heat. "Please send us into those pigs!" (v. 31) Jesus did. "Go," he exorcised. No shout, scream, incantation, dance, incense or demand. Just one small word. Because the one who sustains the worlds with a word directs demonic traffic the same way. And that’s the account on which Jesus writes the check of courage: "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul." (Matt. 10:28) Courage emerges, not from increased police security, but from enhanced spiritual maturity. Martin Luther King exemplified that. He chose not to fear those who meant him harm.

On April 3, 1968, he spent hours in a plane, waiting on the tarmac, due to bomb threats. When he arrived in Memphis later that day, he was tired and hungry but not afraid. "We've got some difficult days ahead," he told the crowd. "But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” He would be dead in less than twenty-four hours. But the people who meant him harm fell short of their goal. Although they took his breath, they couldn’t take his soul.

Evildoers have less chance of hurting you if you aren't already a victim. "Fearing people is a dangerous trap, but trusting the Lord means safety." (Prov. 29:25) And don’t forget, "his angels . . . guard you." (Ps. 91:11) He is your "refuge." (Ps. 62:8) He is your "hiding place." (Ps. 32:7) And he’s your "fortress." (2 Sam. 22:2-3) David said, "The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?" (Ps. 118:6) Satan cannot reach you without passing through God. And that sounds all well and good, but if that’s true then what are we to make of the occasions when Satan does reach us? Or, how are we supposed to understand the tragic end of good people like Boris Kornfeld? Better yet, how are we to understand the suffering of Jesus? Ropes. Whips. Thorns. Nails. These trademarked his final moments.

Hear the whip slapping against his back, ripping sinew from bone. Thirty-nine times the leather slices, first the air, then the skin. Jesus clutches the post and groans, battered by wave after wave of violence. Soldiers force a thorny wreath over his brow, sting his face with their fists and then coat it with their spit. They load a beam on his shoulders and force him to march up a hill. This is the condemned sharpening his own guillotine, or tying his own noose, or wiring his own electric chair. Jesus shouldered his own tool of execution. The cross.

In polite Roman society the word “cross” was an obscenity, not to be uttered in conversation. Roman soldiers were exempt from crucifixion except in matters of high treason. It was ugly and vile, harsh and degrading. And it was the manner by which Jesus chose to die. "He humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!" (Phil. 2:8)

A calmer death would have sufficed, don’t you think? A single drop of blood could have redeemed humankind. Shed his blood, silence his breath, still his pulse but be quick about it. Plunge a sword into his heart or take a dagger to his neck. But did the atonement for sin really require six hours of violence? No, but his triumph over sadism did. Jesus once and for all displayed his authority over savagery. Evil may have its moments, but they will be brief. Satan unleashed his meanest demons on God's Son. He tortured every nerve ending and inflicted every kind of misery. Yet the master of death could not destroy the Lord of life. Heaven's best took hell's worst and turned it into hope. And I pray God spares you such evil. May he grant you the long life and peaceful passage of a Byron Nelson. But if he doesn't, if you "have been given not only the privilege of trusting in Christ but also the privilege of suffering for him," (Phil. 1:29) just remember: God wastes no pain. Consider, again, Boris Kornfeld.

Though the doctor died, his testimony survived because the man with whom he spoke never forgot the conversation. There, in the quiet camp hospital recovery room, the doctor sat by his patient's bedside dispensing compassion and peace. Dr. Kornfeld passionately related the story of his conversion to Christianity, his words flavored with conviction. The patient may have been hot and feverish, but alert enough to ponder Dr. Kornfeld's words. He’d later write that he sensed a "mystical knowledge" in the doctor's voice. And that "mystical knowledge" transformed the young patient. He embraced Kornfeld's Christ and later celebrated in verse with this joyous affirmation: God of the Universe! I believe again!

One of the fortunate few, the patient survived the camps and began to write about his prison experiences, disclosing the horrors of the gulag in one exposé after another: One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, The Gulag Archipelago, and Live Not by Lies, just to name a few. Some attribute the collapse of Eastern Communism, in part, to his writings. But were it not for the suffering of Boris Kornfeld, we may have never known the brilliance of his young convert: Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

What man meant for evil, God, once again, used for good. And if you’ll let him, he’ll use you and your circumstances for good, too.

Grace,

Randy