Archive for February, 2007

IRA Accounts

Recently I sat through a Sunday Morning Bible study on time and money management. As an introduction to his lesson the teacher held up a worn leather book.  Its brown cover was finger worn at the corners. Its gold-edged pages were dog-eared and torn. On its cover the faded title was nearly unlegible. As he held the book up, he explained its importance.  For over thirty years this same book had sat on his desk. He had read it year after year, living by its important principles. The name of the book was How to Gain Wealth.

No, I don’t go to a self-focused, health and wealth church. This lesson was taught within the walls of a theologically conservative, evangelical place of worship. As the lesson continued, several alarming topics were brought to my attention. The most frequented issue of the hour and a half, however, was the IRA account. As I sat there with around fifteen other young adults learning the key to financial security into senior adulthood, I couldn’t help but compare the whole concept to the rich fool in Luke 12 storing all of his grain and goods in barnes. 

I think about the American Church with its worn out copies of How to Gain Wealth and wonder, will there come a time when God will say to us, “Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” I wonder if there will come a time when we realize that all of the money in our IRA accounts can’t buy the kingdom of God.

He Who Gets Slapped

The divinity of Christ points to the humanity of people. At the feet of the cross where the God Man gives His life as a ransom of many, life finds significance. Reflecting on the gospel should alter our perspective of others and align it with God’s. The American Church stands boldly for the sanctity of the unborn life, will she not stand for the sanctity of the liberal, poor, homosexual, addicted, oppressed, or unregenerate life? Or does she only care about the salvation of those that look like her.

God’s house has become a country club.

One restless night, unable to sleep, I found myself watching a silent film about a brilliant scientist that gets slapped and humiliated in front of his colleagues by a man he later finds to be sleeping with his wife. In the midst of humiliation and heartbreak, the man goes mad. He leaves the field of science to become a carnival clown named “He Who Gets Slapped.” Every night hundreds of people come out just to see him get slapped on the face, responding in endless laughter. As the laughter progresses the other clowns rip out a fake heart from his costume, step on it, and bury it in the soot.  Every night, once everyone leaves, the man goes back to the tent and searches for his heart, only for it to be ripped out and buried again the next night.

As I think back on the black and white scenes broken apart by blank screens of words, my mind begins to recall experiences. I remember a teenager I once met that wouldn’t go to church because of the way the Christians at her after school job treated her. I think about a little girl I’m close to that hurts herself because kids at school and church are so mean to her. I picture a homeless man I once watched sitting on a curb in Brooklyn for close to an hour, not once having enough dignity to look up and make eye contact with the other human beings passing him by. Thinking about these people I begin to understand the point of the movie, so simple and so profound.

And I weep for the world that stands in front of our pointing finger.