WHEN POSSESSIONS POSSESS US

A meditation by the Rev. Dr. James G. Kirk

Harundale Presbyterian Church

Glen Burnie, Maryland

August 1, 2004

Text: “I have no place to store my crops.” (Luke 12:17)

First Reading: Hosea 11:1-11

Second Reading: Colossians 3:1-11

“In his book, The Things They Carried, Tim O’Brien reflects on his experiences as a soldier in Vietnam. The title refers to a common practice in every war. Soldiers would often carry small objects with them as reminders of home, of family, of happier times. They were often photos of a girlfriend or wife, a good luck charm to ward off injury, a special birthday card drawn and colored by a toddler son or daughter. One soldier carried with him a case of canned orange juice that his father had sent him from Minnesota. He carried them in his pack—twelve heavy cans of orange juice. He allowed himself one can a month. They were, for him, a sort of calendar of hope—if he could just get through all those cans of orange juice, one can a month, then it was time to go home. ‘The things they carried’ were symbols of hopes and fears. They were declarations of identity. They were small sermons of what was most real, most true to them.” (Quoted by Leanne Van Dyk in a sermon printed in The Register of the Company of Pastors, Vol. 3, No.1 Spring 2001 page 102.)

Contrast that with the man in our story this morning. We’re told how the land of a rich man produced abundantly, so much so that he hadn’t enough storage space in his barns to hold it all. So, he decided to build larger barns. If that were the end of the story we could wonder what was wrong with that. After all it’s very difficult to drive down any major artery around here without seeing storage facilities of some kind or another. They must be very financially lucrative to build, and there must be quite a demand for them, since they’re so many of them. It’s quite a commentary on our society that we need more and more space to store our possessions.

Some people have questioned my love of turtles. I think the turtle is one of God’s classiest creations. The turtle is also a very theologically sound animal. Whatever it owns it carries on its back. There’s no way someone could accuse a turtle of being possessed by its possessions. Also, it’s not afraid to stick its neck out; in fact that’s the only way it gets anywhere. It may not be the fastest of God’s creations, but it is one of the most determined. Once it sets its mind on where to go it will eventually get there. Unless, of course, it’s decided to cross Marley Neck Boulevard and then hopefully someone will stop and put it back in the tall grass. Also, turtles avoid confrontation. Unless they’re eating in order to survive whenever they’re threatened they just close up shop and refuse to engage their enemy. In fact the only way someone can harm a turtle is to turn it on its shell, which means like many of us who are caught in sin, someone has to come and right-wise it, just like Jesus has right-wised all of us.

Back to our story, where the rich man went wrong was to suppose bigger barns would take care of all of his needs. The corner turns in our story when he says to his soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” That’s the same sad state of affairs with so many people who are buying into all of those storage facilities. They think that things can satisfy their earthly needs, to the extent that as the bumper sticker says, “the one with the most toys when he dies wins.” So God has to come and dissuade him from such foolishness. “This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”

Two weeks ago eldest son John and his wife Kathy visited with us for a week. It was the first time they’d been in our house for quite some time. Well, Elizabeth and I are beginning to down-size and, of course, whatever the kids want it’s theirs. So, we did a quick tour around the house and got some idea of what they’d like and what they have no interest in. When Florence Brown went in the nursing home she left very specific instructions of who was to get what. It was a big help to me, knowing that it was just a matter of shipping it off to them.

All of us need to do what my mother did before she died. She went through all of her possessions and put a sticker on the bottom of everything as to who was to get what. She’d seen too many in the family who’d fought over everything as soon as someone died and she wasn’t going to have any of it where she was concerned. When we do that it’s like the soldiers in the story, The Things They Carried. Periodic inventories of all that we have help us to discern rather quickly what’s essential to our well being and what’s superfluous baggage we shouldn’t continue to carry. Remember in the story those things the troops carried helped to define who they were. They were important reminders whence they came and to whom they belonged. Where the rich landowner got in trouble was thinking that bigger barns would guarantee his future and all he’d left to do was eat, drink and be merry. He made the mistake of letting his possessions possess him.

Another way to avoid letting our possessions possess us is to consider the distinction between what we possess and what we treasure. For example, you possess a job, but you treasure your family. You possess a house, but you treasure your home. You possess a bank account but you treasure your friends. You possess a car but you treasure your freedom. You possess a great wardrobe but you treasure your health. You possess an appointment book but you treasure your time. You possess a heart but you treasure love. (From Treasure Hunters, Homiletics Online, 8.6.95.)

What Tim O’Brien’s soldiers carried in their wallets were not possessions, they were treasures. What the rich landholder did was to turn the treasures his land produced into possessions that he’d ultimately never enjoy. What we’re called to do is to consider all that we have as treasures God gives us and in that way our possessions will never possess us.

Thanks be to God, Amen