Do Not Be Afraid of the Kingdom of God
A sermon preached with the people of St. Francis of Assisi Episcopal Church in Youngsville, Pennsylvania and Trinity Memorial Episcopal Church in Warren, Pennsylvania.
Most of you have probably heard of GoFundMe. It’s a website that allows people to ask for help with financing something. Individuals donate to the cause and the money is sent to the person asking. GoFundMe reports that about 1/3 of their campaigns are for medical costs.
So, where our broken healthcare system fails, a product that allows individuals to carry the load for others in need of care steps in. Human beings – often human beings who don’t even know each other and who don’t have very much to give – reach into their pockets (or “purses”) and help others.
And, it’s not enough.
GoFundMe campaigns rarely end up covering the full cost of the treatments people need. First, the costs are usually so astronomical it is simply not plausible to fundraise in this way for the required care. Second, proximity to privilege makes a difference. Those who are already in circles with people who have more to give are more likely to be successful with their campaigns. And, the same biases that show up elsewhere (racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, to name a few) show up in our decisions about which campaigns we give to.
This morning Jesus tells us to “sell your possessions, and give alms.”
And so it stands to reason that Jesus is very much in favor of us giving to a GoFundMe campaign so that a neighbor might get access to medical treatment.
But I think he’s getting at something bigger here.
I think Jesus is reminding us that the systems that make it necessary for that neighbor to set up a campaign to fund her very right to live will crumble.
And he’s telling us to be ready for it.
Be like servants waiting for the big boss to return home from a late-night party, he tells us. Keep the lights on.
And what will happen if we do this? Well, Jesus says, then the master will come home and serve us, the servants.
Because this, after all, is the Kingdom of God.
The Kingdom Jesus’ mother sang about just 12 chapters back in the Gospel of Luke. A Kingdom of reversals. And a Kingdom of crumbling system of inequality.
“He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly;” she sings.
Imagining the words of Mary’s song coming to be should bring us a sense of joy and hopeful anticipation. Imagining the big bosses serving the servants should bring a sense of peace and calm. And even a little satisfaction.
But some may be afraid of those visions. The people who most benefit from our human-made systems of oppression -- they just might be afraid.
Not because of some coming thunderbolt punishment God might bring. But because they live in such a way that the flourishing of all people will feel like punishment.
“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom,” Jesus says.
God does not begrudgingly bring the kingdom. It is God’s pleasure. It is God’s pleasure to give these things to us.
God does not have conditions of behavior or accomplishment for us to be worthy of inheriting this promised world. God is not waiting, tapping a finger, until each one of us get our acts together. No, God is not waiting.
But, this morning, Jesus reminds us that we are. We are waiting.
And we must be ready– ready for a day that could be tomorrow or millennia from now – when it all gets turned upside down.
But how do we get ready? How do we stay ready.
Maybe one way to think about it is to live in such a way that the coming Kingdom does not make us afraid.
Those who benefit from our broken healthcare system – those who store up mountains of earthly treasure, while others beg for cancer treatments online -- I venture to guess that if I told them tomorrow the poorest patients will inherit the earth, they might be afraid.
But it’s easy to point the finger. And, I too need to work on my readiness.
I’ll claim my part in this too. So often, I am able to feel the ways my privilege fast-tracks me (especially, I will say, when navigating the healthcare system), the ways I am treated better than others would be because of the color of my skin, my economic status, my sexual orientation and gender identity.
It feels convicting, and it should feel that way, I think. Because in the end, these are the possessions God asks me to let go of. These are the possessions that will cease to be in the coming Kingdom. These privileges, these benefits, this ease, this comfort.
Imagining, and in fact celebrating the day when every one of the privileges made possible by systems of oppression dissolve into thin air. This is the work of being ready.
Most of the time, when I feel unjust privilege at work in my life, I have a moment of regret, a knot in my stomach, then take a deep breath, and move on with my day.
But I think this morning Jesus is telling me (and telling me and telling me) not to move on.
To stand in solidarity with the people who, I know, “will be lifted up” and “filled with good things.” To give my time and attention to their causes. To listen. And, when asked, to speak and to take action.
Yes, to give to the GoFundMe. But also, advocate for lower drug costs, quality universal healthcare, a higher minimum wage, and other policies that reduce the wealth gap and start to give us a glimpse of a world in which basic human rights are just that – rights – and not benefits of privilege set by human systems of oppression. A glimpse of the Kingdom of God.
The gift of the Kingdom is not dependent on a purity test. There is no grading system. Remember, “it is God’s pleasure to give these things to us.”
But it is about being ready. About living in a way that anticipates, longs for, hopes for, the coming Kingdom of God. Living in such a way that there will be no hang-ups, no regrets, no sense of loss, and no fear, when all are cared for and reconciled with God.
References:
https://thegrio.com/2021/09/23/gofundme-medical-bills-health-care-system/
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/07/01/the-perverse-logic-of-gofundme-health-care