Stolen Identity (Mark 10:17-31)

When the man heard what was required of him, he was shocked and went away grieving. Or, as The Message – a paraphrase of scripture by Eugene Peterson – puts it, “The man’s face clouded over.  This was the last thing he expected to hear, and he walked off with a heavy heart.  He was holding on tight to a lot of things, and not about to let go.”

This is the scripture assigned by the lectionary for this date.  For those of you who don’t know, the lectionary is a 3-year cycle of scripture readings used in many churches; and in fact, as I was surprised to learn earlier this month in St. Louis, a new form of Christianity called “The Emergent Church” has taken a particular liking to the lectionary.  So it’s not going anywhere for awhile.

However, when I read this story, I wasn’t sure we really wanted to hear another scripture about money and possessions, having just concluded our stewardship campaign two weeks ago.  I was tempted to pick some other scripture.  The reason I didn’t, though, is that then I would be picking the scripture, and I really don’t want to get into a pattern of picking and choosing just the scriptures I want, or the scriptures I think you want.  I think we need to hear the scriptures that God wants us to hear.

And, apparently, God wants us to hear a lot of scriptures about money and possessions, because there are, in fact, so many stories of Jesus teaching on these topics.

Why?  Why does Jesus spend so much time talking about money and possessions?  Why do the gospels include so many of these stories on their pages?  Why does the lectionary include so many of them in its three-year cycle?

I think it’s because our very identity is so wrapped up in our money and how we use it, and the possessions we own.

This man in the scripture:  he had everything.  He had it all.  He was at the top, socially and economically.

And yet the kingdom of God demands a turning around of the world.  It is a Great Reversal.  In the kingdom, the first become last, and the last become first.

For someone who has it all… for someone whose very identity is wrapped up in his wealth… this is a very difficult teaching.

The deeper question I want to pose for us today (and that’s really what I’m best at; one of you last week jokingly complained that I didn’t have all the answers, and it’s true; I mostly just have questions…); the question I want to pose today is:  to what extent is your identity based on your faith, and to what extent is your identity based on your wealth and possessions?  Do you have a Christian identity?  Is it an identity rooted in the teachings of Jesus?  Or has your identity been stolen by a culture that teaches it’s what you have and what you possess that matter?

Identity has become a real problem for Christians, and especially for more progressive, “mainstream” Christians like us.  We’re often accused of not having a very strong Christian identity, of watering down our faith and our identity, and more often than we like to admit, those accusations bear some truth.

Brian McLaren is a powerful and influential teacher, author and speaker in modern Christianity.  Phyllis Tickle, speaking two weeks ago in St. Louis, called him the “Martin Luther of the reformation that is now taking place.”  In his newest book, he points out that progressive and mainline Christians see more evangelical Christians as “strong and hostile,” and we don’t want to be seen as “strong and hostile” ourselves.  So, in place of “strong and hostile,” we have adapted an identity that is “weak and benevolent.”

Would you agree to that?

Our identity as followers of Jesus is weak and benevolent.  We don’t want to come across as hostile, so we minimize the influence of faith in our lives. 

But with faith having less influence on our identities and our lives, that leaves an opening for our consumerist culture to take hold of our identity, and we become no different than the rest of society that says: “It’s what you have that matters.  It’s what you have that determines who you are.  It’s what you have that determines your identity.”

Brian McLaren writes:  “Our lives consist in the abundance of products we buy, the standard of living we seek, the economic policies we consider orthodox, and the debt load we carry.”  And thus, consumerism becomes our strongest identity, much stronger than our faith.

A weak and benevolent Christianity is servant to a strong consumerist identity.  It provides no resistance, but merely goes with the flow.  It gives it “an air of legitimacy and even sacredness,” never challenging the dehumanizing, oppressive, and contrary-to-God ways of extreme consumerism.

The man in today’s scripture story seems to have had at least a moderately strong faith identity.  He claims to have followed well the commands of God, and Jesus does not contradict his claim.  And yet, it is clear that his identity is wrapped up in his possessions.  If he were asked that essential, philosophical question, “Who are you?” and were to answer honestly, he would have to say:  “I am what I own.”

Jesus tells him to give up that identity and take on a new one, but he’s just not ready for that.  His life is defined by what he owns.  To follow Jesus, to live the life of the ages, the “eternal life,” he would have to lose the life he’s currently living.

That is a very difficult thing.

And so, the man walks away, grieving.

Getting back to you and me and our “weak-but-benevolent” form of Christianity… A weak Christian identity and a strong identification with consumerism leads to an identity that is “me-first.”  According to Brian McLaren, it leads to decreasing levels of personal responsibility, self-restraint, community-mindedness, reconciliation, and concern for equity, fidelity, loyalty, and personal morality.

Without a strong Christian identity, we find our identity in other ways:  we identify by race or political views, or we fall back into a stronger but more hostile form of Christianity.  But most likely, we will fall back to the identity that we know so well:  our identity as a consumer of goods.

This affects the choices we make in life: what to buy, what job to take, whether or not to accept that promotion, whether or not to move your family to a new city, whether or not you should get involved in activities and commitments that leave no time for church or your own spiritual growth.  People make choices like this all the time, choices that leave no room in their lives for faith.  Why?  Because their faith identity is weak.  Benevolent, but weak.

For most who call themselves Christian in the 21^st century, that identity is so weak that it barely influences their decisions and their choices – especially their decisions and choices concerning money and possessions and spending.  In fact, it usually works the other way:  one’s identification with money and possessions usually determines how much or how little of our lives we commit to living out our faith.

Thinking about our identity is hard.  One reason it’s hard is that we haven’t had to think about it much for 1,700 years.  Way back in the early days of Christianity, when Christianity was a small but growing movement that was not part of the mainstream and was, in fact, often persecuted by mainstream culture, a Christian’s identity was strong.  It had to be.  A weak identity would not be able to stand up to the influence of a culture that was so decidedly anti-Christian.

But then, on October 27, 312, the Emperor Constantine had a vision which led to his conversion to Christianity.  The following year, in 313, Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire and the entire western world.  From then on, to be an individual living in western civilization meant, almost automatically, identifying oneself as a Christian.  You didn’t really have to think about it, really.

Well, guess what?  After 1,700 years, all that has finally changed.  For the first time since 313, to live in western civilization no longer means automatically identifying as a Christian. 

This is a time of profound change. Christianity has lost its place in the center of society.  A lot of people are saddened or distressed by this.  However, this new world in which we live gives us the opportunity to more closely examine our identity as Christians, and to understand in a new way how that identity may not always be compatible with our identification with the culture at large.

In this new world in which we live, a weak, passive identification with Christ will not suffice.  The weak, benevolent identity of the mainstream church is not enough; indeed, this weak identity is why the mainline church is dying.

It’s time for a new, stronger identification with the way of Jesus.  Not one that is strong and hostile, but one that is strong and benevolent.  An identification that focuses on love and kindness and compassion and radical hospitality. 

That identification needs to influence every choice and decision we make, including (and especially) the choices and decisions we make concerning wealth and possessions.

In many ways, money is power.  That’s a truth of the age in which we live.  Both Mitt Romney and Barack Obama know how important money is to their chances of winning the upcoming election.  Without raising what to us seems a phenomenal amount of campaign money, a person cannot hope to be elected president.

Jesus knows that money is power.  In fact, love for money is the biggest threat to love for God.  But money does not have to be evil.  When Jesus tells the man what he must do, he tells him to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor.  The money will then become a power for good.

But that’s not all; the good that could take place in this act is doubled, because not only are the poor given what they need, but so is the man in the story:  He gets what he needs. In selling his possessions and giving the money to the poor, the man would be given a new identity.  His identity is so wrapped up in money and possessions, and this is the only way he can break free from that.  In this action, both he and the poor would receive new life.

At the closing worship of the clergy conference in St. Louis, our preacher was Amy Gopp, director of Week of Compassion.    (For those who don’t know, Week of Compassion is our church’s ministry to those who have suffered from natural or man-made disasters around the world.) 

I don’t remember everything she said in her sermon, because I was trying to figure out if I had to leave worship early in order to catch my plane home.  But I do remember her talking about a time she was visiting a country in Central America.  I don’t remember which country. 

In a poor, impoverished region of that country where Week of Compassion was doing relief work, Amy Gopp met a young woman named Evangelina, and she asked Evangelina:  “How can I pray for you?”

Evangelina responded by saying to Amy:  “Oh, no, let me pray for you, for I know it is much more dangerous to have too much than not enough.”

Evangelina’s identity as a follower of Jesus is secure.  May it be so for us.