I and me, my and mine

I’m certainly no farmer.  My thumb is definitely more black than green.  Yet, the farmer’s conversation (Lk 12:13-21) rings true for me, for I have often had similar conversations with myself.  The difference is that my conversation has usually been a prospective one.  It is usually prompted by something like this:

I am driving along in my car listening to the radio and a very excited voice interrupts the broadcast:  “Tonight’s Powerball jackpot is now $300 million!”  And the conversation begins.  How easy my life would be if I just won that prize.  I would pay off all of my debts.  I would not have to work another day.  I could do all the things I always wished I could do.  I would invest wisely so that I’d never want again.  That sounds pretty much like “eat, drink and be merry” to me.

Of course, I tell myself, I’m not greedy like the farmer.  I’m a generous soul.  So I throw in a few charities into the mix.  The church says I should tithe, but I can do more.  In my better days, I can even envision giving away as much as half of the prize.   Only then do I realize that this makes almost no difference at all – I am still just as foolish as the farmer. 

I have fallen into the same trap as the farmer did – the insidious snare of I and me, my and mine.  Notice the propensity of these words in the farmer’s – and in my – conversation.  “I shall,” “my harvest,” “my barns,” “my grain,” “I say to myself,” etc., etc., etc.  But where did the grain come from?  Not from the farmer.  The parable’s opening line tells us the answer – “There was a rich man whose land produced a bountiful harvest.”  The harvest was from God, just as everything the man owned – and he owns much as Jesus tells us he was already a rich man even before the harvest – was from God.  But the farmer assumes that God’s providence becomes his possessions, to be used for his comfort and his pleasure. 

Don’t I do the same?  God provides and I claim firm and absolute possession.  Mine, mine, mine, I say.  Yet God, out of his infinite, eternal and unconditional love for me, provides not for my own pleasure and comfort, but simply so that I can offer that same providence to others.  I am to share as abundantly as I receive, in the sure and certain trust that God will continue to provide all that I need, since he will continue to love me with his infinite, eternal and unconditional love. 

I am simply the steward of God’s great providence – I possess nothing and nothing is mine.  And while I possess nothing, I also want nothing, and need but little, as long as I trust in God’s eternal providence. 

But when my trust fails, - and, unfortunately, it fails often – I grasp tightly to whatever I can, jealously protecting it against the claims of all others.  I may even turn to violence to protect what I see as mine and mine alone. 

But I’m still not happy with what I already have, so I greedily seek more and more, as I need to assure myself – who else is going to do it for me? – that I will have not only what I need, but all that I could possibly want.  In fact, I lose all distinction between wants and needs.  I think that whatever I want, I need.  I can easily rationalize that my “daily bread” costs at least half of that $300 million dollar lottery prize!

What a vain and greedy fool I become when I live in the land of I and me and my and mine.  I reject the kingdom of heaven to live in the vanity of hell. 

St. Paul reminds me that this is my old self, a self that I can put aside now that I have been raised in Christ.   I can put on a new self, a self abundantly filled with the love of Christ, a generous, joyful and serene self, a self that is wise enough to reject the hell of me and mine and accept the heaven of our almighty, all-loving, and all holy God.

God created me – as he created you and for each and every human being – with the free will to choose.  Jesus died for me – as he died for you and for each and every human being – that we would know that great love that we can choose to accept.  The Spirit lives in me, as he lives in you and in each and every human being, to give us the courage, strength and wisdom that we may choose to look to what is above rather than simply obsess on that which is below.

Created by God, redeemed by Christ, empowered by the Spirit, we choose love or hate, hope or despair, life or death, heaven or hell.  Pray for me, as I will certainly pray for you, that we always choose wisely.