The dance of abundance

Mark 10:17-31
17 As he was setting out on a journey, someone came running up and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to share in everlasting life?” 18 Jesus answered, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. 19 You know the commandments: No killing. No committing adultery. No stealing. No bearing false witness. No defrauding. Honor your mother and your father.” 20 The other replied, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my childhood.” 21 Then Jesus looked at the person with love and said, “There is one thing more that you must do. Go and sell what you have and give it to those in need; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me.” 22 At these words, the inquirer, who owned much property, became crestfallen and went away sadly. 23 Jesus looked around and said to the disciples, “How hard it is for rich people to enter the kindom of God!” 24 The disciples could only marvel at these words. So Jesus repeated what he had said: “My children, how hard it is to enter the realm of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to pass through the Needle’s Eye gate than for a rich person to enter the kindom of God!” 26 The disciples were amazed at this and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible—but not for God. With God all things are possible.” 28 Peter was moved to say to Jesus, “We have left everything to follow you!” 29 Jesus answered, “The truth is, there is no one who has left home, sisters or brothers, mother or father, children or fields for me and for the sake of the Gospel 30 who won’t receive a hundred times as much in this present age—as many homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, children and property, though not without persecution—and, in the age to come, everlasting life. 31 “Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

Priests for Equality. The Inclusive Bible (pp. 2202-2203). Sheed & Ward. Kindle Edition.

My favorite line of the gospel reading today is “Jesus loved him.” Jesus loved him by telling him to sell everything he had. To the man who has everything he wants, Jesus says, “one thing you lack.” What is it Jesus was offering to this young man? What does he lack? Poverty? No, I think that’s a bit too simplistic—Jesus doesn’t go around telling everyone they need to live in poverty. Was it generosity? Maybe we’re getting warmer…

In San Diego I had 2 roommates: one woman, Tessa, and one Great Dane, Zoe. One of the best things about being a dog in San Diego is dog beach. It’s also one of the best things about having a dog friend in San Diego. It’s a beautiful scene to behold—dozens of happy pups chasing balls, running with each other, racing along the shoreline, plunging deep into the waves. Dogs are happy. Their humans are happy. Everyone is delighted as the pairs of human + dog play their own game—and they reflect joy back to one another as they each play their part.

I went often with my dog friend Zoe, who by the way, is certainly as big as I am (ask to see a photo later if you want a laugh). The thing about my girl Zoe is that she loves to play with a ball. Honestly maybe too much. Because what happens is that once she gets a ball, she forgets that half the fun was chasing and finding the ball, and instead she clamps her giant jaw around a tennis ball so hard that it can only be retrieved by a great deal of wrestling, with one’s whole hand inside her mouth, which is a hilarious and uncomfortable and slightly terrifying experience.

“Why not just let her keep the ball?” you might ask. I assure you, it’s not that I was that committed to playing fetch—believe it or not I’d rather not throw a slobbery ball as far as I possibly can for an hour straight. The problem is what happens to Zoe: when she has a ball in her possession, the ball actually seems to possess her. She no longer enjoys the beach. Normally Zoe lives for the pets and admiration from every human she passes—but with a ball, she nervously hides her face from every person and snarls at every dog who dares run past her. Sometimes she settles and digs a little hole to guard her precious ball, but she’s unable to relent her prize possession even to the sand.

Inevitably once the ball is wrestled from her mouth, she perks back up, her ears are playful, released from her obsession and her fear of loss, and she runs after the ball with joy again—for a moment she returns to the game she loves. Throw and retrieve, throw and retrieve. For a moment she’s free.

Every time I witness this behavior (besides rolling my eyes that we’re doing it again) I remember that I am not so different from Zoe. Friends, do we not all fall into the trap of believing that acquiring and keeping is what makes us safe? Secure? In control over our own lives?

The problem is that, like Zoe, our clenching grip prevents us from really enjoying the gifts of our lives. Glancing over our shoulders to protect what’s ours, distancing ourselves from others to keep it safe—all it does is stop the flow. When we are fearful and self-protective, we can neither give nor receive.

Throw and retrieve, give and receive. It’s a dance we do in the kingdom of God, where we believe that the joy of this life is not only found in having, but in the motion of receiving and giving. If we always have, there is no dance. It’s static. We’re burdened by all that we must hold onto—our grip is too tight to take the hand of our divine dance partner.

But when I open my hands, I remember the giver of all good things. When a brave hand pulls the ball out of Zoe’s mouth, she is never afraid or angry—she wants to play! Perhaps Zoe couldn’t give it up herself, and neither could the wealthy young man talking to Jesus, but what about us: Do you and I have the strength to give up what needs to be surrendered in order to play? (Give and receive, throw and retrieve, give and receive…)

Jesus loved him as he invited him into this flow of abundance—not because there was anything wrong with the man, this isn’t a correction or a judgment—remember what he asked Jesus? What must I do to inherit eternal life?

Eternal life isn’t getting it right. This isn’t about getting into heaven when you die—it’s not even about changing the world! Eternal life is God’s kingdom—here and now and forevermore—and our choice to participate in it. Jesus is offering life that never ceases flowing to this man’s soul.

Then he uses an impossible image to stir up his disciples’ shock and bafflement. If this man who had knowledge and money and power and influence couldn’t enter the kingdom of God, who could? Who was more valuable? Who could God want more?

And Jesus teaches that it is exactly those things—money and knowledge and power and influence—things that we clamp our jaws around and we hold on tight until we lose ourselves. Those are the burdens on our camel’s backs that keep us from entering the kingdom of God—the kingdom of Love.

Jesus looked at him, and loved him, and put his finger right on the burden that kept him from this love.

We are supposed to be shocked by the image of the camel and the eye of the needle. It’s meant to remind us that there are things that feel impossible to give up. But maybe you’ve made it through the impossible before—maybe you’ve lost something you’d never have parted with in a million years if you had the choice. Maybe you know the terror of losing what you thought made your life great. Friendships? Social status? Maybe you’ve done the impossible and given up the protection around your heart by sharing your vulnerability and fear and your love with someone else. And maybe you’ve tasted what’s on the other side.

We’re only ever lost in our own lives because we forget the eternal flow of abundance, where there is always enough for everyone, where more for you doesn’t mean less for me, where giving up wealth or time or self-protection is an act of faith in the God who gave it to us to begin with, where we trust our Source enough to know that the joy of life is in giving it away. And when we make room to receive more, we are blessed with the abundance of God’s eternal life.

It is a terrifying thing to make ourselves vulnerable by laying aside what we think keeps us safe. But vulnerability is our act of faith—who of Jesus’s followers did not lay aside the security of their lives to join him?

Vulnerability is our act of faith, and if we let it, it will give us eyes to see the Love of God that always surrounded us.

Give and receive and give and receive and give…this is the flow of eternal life. This is the kingdom of God.