October 13
By Rev. Nicole M. Lamarche
Mark 10:17-31 and an Excerpt from “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific knowledge and the Teaching of Plants” by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Welcome again in whatever shape you are in, whether you are joining online or in person, whether you feel like you are falling apart or have it together, whether you are hopeful or sad, in a good place or having a hard time, welcome here. I feel the need to say all of this because I am learning that some stay away when they feel like they don’t have their stuff together. What a gift that we have the church, a place with no entrance fee, no requirement, no need to have brought anything or bought anything, no expectation that to linger here or to use the bathroom you must buy a coffee, no need to have read any materials or have taken a class, or filled out paperwork or to have downloaded a new app, no need to have signed on for a certain set of beliefs, all that is needed is each of our presence, in a place where all belong, just as we are…. Welcome…
If you are so moved, I invite you now to take some deeper breaths, letting go of whatever it is that is weighing you down or worrying you or awaiting you, let us pause and give ourselves this space to tune into deeper things. I invite you to join me in a spirit of prayer as we are all held by these ancient words from Psalm 19: God may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
Beyond any usual place most tourists go sits a little village in southern France that is so infused with mystery that it has inspired books, movies and stories upon stories upon stories. At the end of a winding road, on the top of a hill, nestled at the base of some foothills, among strings of hills, in the mountains of the Corbières Massif, a range in what is called the pre-Pyrenees is the little village of Rennes-les-Chateau.
In the entrance there is a sign that with my limited French I could not understand. It seemed to be prohibiting something that didn’t make sense to me. I tried to translate. Bernard said, “I explain.” This little village for many reasons is believed to hold either a map to a treasure or an actual treasure either somewhere there or nearby. The sign in the entrance tells all visitors that excavations are prohibited.
My friend Bernard shared that because of all the stories upon stories upon stories about this little village and this castle and this church on the top of the foothill, with all of the lore about the possibility of a hidden treasure here or nearby, people had quite literally shown up with shovels or metal detectors and they were making a mess of the town in search of gold, making a mess of the village searching for gold.
So, in 1965 and do you know on the very date that I was there, which was July 28th on July 28th 1965, they put up a sign telling all who visit that excavations are now. prohibited. “No digging” Bernard said. Later after seeing the whole place and sitting for a long time in the church and after seeing the grounds and the garden and the tower and the Villa Bethanie, Bernard and I went to a little caffe so I could once again take out my pink moleskin notebook.
“Is there really a treasure here?” I kept asking… Bernard told me a few times that he wouldn’t tell me everything he knew but to keep listening.
I learned the legend of a possible treasure has threads all the way back to the Visigoths who occupied what is now southwestern France and the Iberian Peninsula from the 5th to the 8th centuries to and the knights templar in the 12th century and then more recently in the late 1800’s Father Berenger Sauniere who began the first renovations on the Eglise Sainte Marie Madeleine, a church dedicated to Mary Magdalene that was first built in the 11th century.
“Is there really a treasure here?”
I am and maybe will forever be sorting out what I heard, what I saw, what I experienced on the pilgrimage, but at the very least like a lot of things there are some facts and some mythologies mixed together, but from what I took away, one truth that I have been pondering: it seems like we human beings have spent a lot of time and energy digging for a treasure.
What I mean is that in many places we have geared our economy, our lives, what we decide and who we decide is worth around treasure, around digging everywhere and anywhere for something that will make money, under the ocean, deep in the ground, within the thick of incredible natural places, we have dug and dug and dug. In our economy with little supports for most, but many benefits for those with much treasure, we have dug so far that some of us are standing in a trench looking out wondering when there will be enough.
What I mean is that in many places we have geared our lives around digging for treasure; we often measure one another’s worth by how much treasure we earn from the work that we do, how much treasure we have- in our home, in our car, in our clothes, in whether or not what we do is worth anything to making the world better, otherwise teachers wouldn’t need a summer job and we wouldn’t need go fund mes for our healthcare. We have dug and dug and dug, trying to buy our way to the treasure looking in the wrong places.
We human beings have spent a lot of time and energy digging for a treasure that maybe we have missed the actual treasure.
Perhaps among the most counterculture teachings Jesus offered are those that have to do with money, including this one we heard from the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, ‘How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!’ which leaves the disciples perplexed of course and so then Jesus said to them again, ‘Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.’ That’s his answer and of course that doesn’t clear things up!
Understandably the group was just astounded. But as unpalatable as this teaching might be for us in 2024, I think Jesus was really right. Truly on to something. At a certain point we human beings are taken off track when we have access to more than we need, to everything we want. Look at how those with much of the world’s wealth are leading us and where. I think that Jesus is saying that at a certain point, having too much is a hazard, we literally can’t have the experiences we need to have, we can’t love and be loved the way we should, we can’t go where we need to go. When relationships are all economic transactions or our sense of security comes only from hoped for dividends, we can’t know, truly love if that’s all we have.
There is a hazard in that.
The truth is that the richest 10 percent are responsible for over 40 percent of all global greenhouse gas emissions. The wealthiest 1 percent are responsible for more than twice as much carbon dioxide as the poorer half of the world. Corporations and people driven by digging and digging for treasure are destroying our ecosystems of the earth and of community, intentionally distancing us all from the harm caused by all of the digging, otherwise the system wouldn’t function if everyone could see what it takes, what it means.
I am thinking of how hard it is not to participate in all of this, but I want to try, I am trying. And I know I can’t do it alone. In some places we can individual and collectively stop digging. We can all say enough. We have what we need. I want to bring back the ancient idea, still lived faithfully in some parts of our planet, mostly among indigenous peoples: take only what you need.
As we heard from Robin Wall Kimmerer, let us introduce ourselves and Be accountable. Let us ask permission before taking and abide by the answer. Take only what you need.
I think it’s another way of saying what Jesus was saying. We miss sacred things when we take so much that we are overloaded and trying to get through a small door. In this time when we are exploring healing, I am seeing the kind of healing comes from letting go, from giving away, from unburdening of what is just too much, happiness found with giving money away or selling all ones possessions and buying land to go off the grid, a year of choosing to buy nothing or choosing to share significant treasure to bring someone else along, or building avenues of mutual aid.
What if part of our individual and collective healing will come from returning to an old fashioned idea: what if having more and more and more is no longer our goal? When we have enough, our Christian tradition compels us to pay attention to those who don’t, to the spiritual hazard, to the narrow pathway of spending our lives digging and digging for more and more. It seems like Jesus is just saying stop digging for the treasure… because that’s not the one you need.
“Is there really a treasure here?” Bernard didn’t always answer completely. But I kind of knew what he was going to say by this point.
The treasure is the truth.
I would love it if we could put up a sign to the world, telling people no more excavations, no more digging…
Scholar C. Clifton Black says, “The inheritance of eternal life requires relinquishing control, giving up control, adhering to a new master.”What if healing in many parts of our lives and on our planet will come with an old and yet seemingly new idea: enough?
Communal Reflection
What do you think Jesus meant when he said it was hard for someone who is rich to enter the kin-dom of God? Do you understand having too much to be a spiritual hazard? Why or why not? What would our little and big worlds look like if we took only what we needed?
Beloved of God, we can individually and collectively stop digging. We can all say enough where and when we have what we need. We can take the places where we have enough and spill them over onto one another so that all may have enough.
Maybe we can bring back this ancient idea: let us take only what we need. May it be so. Amen.