Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For they have no fangs until death; their bodies are fat and sleek. They are not in trouble as others are. They are not stricken like the rest of mankind. Therefore, pride is their necklace. Violence covers them like a garment. Their eyes swell out through fatness. The imaginations of their heart run riot...They set their mouths against the heavens, and their tongue struts through the earth. Therefore his people turn back to them and the waters of a full cup are drained by them. And they say, "How can God know? Is there knowledge in the Most High?" Behold, these are the wicked. Always at ease, they increase in riches. (Verses 1-12)
It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven. Jesus (Mark 10)
I watched the season three opener of Downton Abbey last night. For two hours, all of us who tuned in got to catch up on the Crawley family's melodrama. It seems they are out of money. Bad investment deal by his lordship. The answer? Suck up to the American grandma no one really likes to see if they can bleed more money out of her or Matthew must besmirch his honor and take an inheritance from the dead wife he didn't love all that much. What we do for money and position. Well, not we, really, as most of us aren't the filthy rich. Our norm isn't the manse, the servants and breakfast in bed. No one draws my drapes each morning and combs my not so lustrous locks of hair. I prepare my own dinner, wash my own dishes and make my own bed. I live near Hollywood but am not of it.
Who are the one percent? Those with bank accounts in the Cayman Islands and mansions all over the world? Movie stars. Flaunting their bodies and their bank accounts when they aren't in rehab for the addictions that often come from too much wealth and idle time. Entrepreneurs. Good ideas and hard work have paid off in businesses that more than flourish. Inherited wealth. The progeny with no idea what it took to become wealthy but who enjoy the clout of the home in the Hamptons. I wouldn't call them wicked as this psalm does. The psalmist admits his bitterness at their having so much when he has so little. It seems to him that his relationship with God should result in a life of more ease. How is it fair that those who don't even know God should never feel the pain the rest of us endure? Whatever they can imagine, they can buy, these rich folks. Never without friends who are willing to drink their cup dry with them, the rich travel with an entourage of hangers-on. Death seems to be the only thing that makes the one percent just like us.
All wealthy people are not as depicted here, I'm sure. But wealth has become just as much an idol to the psalmist as it has to those he envies. That is why he describes himself as nearly stumbling in his path. He would like a little taste of the easy life. The Plaza instead of Motel 6. Steak instead of the fish he caught earlier in the day. Armani instead of Lee's. Just for once. To know what it feels like to not have a care in the world. Envying those who have is just as bad as their insulated world of wealth. Both are destructive. Both idolatry. Great wealth and position, though heady stuff, doesn't make us better people. If riches give us a false sense of security so that we don't recognize our need for God, we are paupers. Buy the whole world only to lose our very souls. But for the other ninety-nine percent of us, craving what the fat-eyed, sleek-bodied filthy rich have is a waste of time and energy. While they trust in their money, we have the privilege of trusting in our God for provision. We get to see Him come through for us in ways they can't imagine. And while the facade of riches covers their lives from view, they are all people just like us. It's merely easier for them to believe they don't need God. And it's easier for them to buy a panacea for the aching need that is in all of us for something more.
One of my friends works at a large Santa Monica hospital on the psyche ward. There is always a rich celebrity or two drying out there. Admitted with entourage in tow, demanding special meals and better televisions. Admitted also with a sense of entitlement overflowing into the hallways. Money has made them mad...caused them to slip and stumble and fumble their way into an addiction they must also buy their way out of. Nothing to envy there. We serve God or money. One never fails. The other? Gone in a mini-series minute like all of Lady Crawley's inheritance.
It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven. Jesus (Mark 10)
I watched the season three opener of Downton Abbey last night. For two hours, all of us who tuned in got to catch up on the Crawley family's melodrama. It seems they are out of money. Bad investment deal by his lordship. The answer? Suck up to the American grandma no one really likes to see if they can bleed more money out of her or Matthew must besmirch his honor and take an inheritance from the dead wife he didn't love all that much. What we do for money and position. Well, not we, really, as most of us aren't the filthy rich. Our norm isn't the manse, the servants and breakfast in bed. No one draws my drapes each morning and combs my not so lustrous locks of hair. I prepare my own dinner, wash my own dishes and make my own bed. I live near Hollywood but am not of it.
Who are the one percent? Those with bank accounts in the Cayman Islands and mansions all over the world? Movie stars. Flaunting their bodies and their bank accounts when they aren't in rehab for the addictions that often come from too much wealth and idle time. Entrepreneurs. Good ideas and hard work have paid off in businesses that more than flourish. Inherited wealth. The progeny with no idea what it took to become wealthy but who enjoy the clout of the home in the Hamptons. I wouldn't call them wicked as this psalm does. The psalmist admits his bitterness at their having so much when he has so little. It seems to him that his relationship with God should result in a life of more ease. How is it fair that those who don't even know God should never feel the pain the rest of us endure? Whatever they can imagine, they can buy, these rich folks. Never without friends who are willing to drink their cup dry with them, the rich travel with an entourage of hangers-on. Death seems to be the only thing that makes the one percent just like us.
All wealthy people are not as depicted here, I'm sure. But wealth has become just as much an idol to the psalmist as it has to those he envies. That is why he describes himself as nearly stumbling in his path. He would like a little taste of the easy life. The Plaza instead of Motel 6. Steak instead of the fish he caught earlier in the day. Armani instead of Lee's. Just for once. To know what it feels like to not have a care in the world. Envying those who have is just as bad as their insulated world of wealth. Both are destructive. Both idolatry. Great wealth and position, though heady stuff, doesn't make us better people. If riches give us a false sense of security so that we don't recognize our need for God, we are paupers. Buy the whole world only to lose our very souls. But for the other ninety-nine percent of us, craving what the fat-eyed, sleek-bodied filthy rich have is a waste of time and energy. While they trust in their money, we have the privilege of trusting in our God for provision. We get to see Him come through for us in ways they can't imagine. And while the facade of riches covers their lives from view, they are all people just like us. It's merely easier for them to believe they don't need God. And it's easier for them to buy a panacea for the aching need that is in all of us for something more.
One of my friends works at a large Santa Monica hospital on the psyche ward. There is always a rich celebrity or two drying out there. Admitted with entourage in tow, demanding special meals and better televisions. Admitted also with a sense of entitlement overflowing into the hallways. Money has made them mad...caused them to slip and stumble and fumble their way into an addiction they must also buy their way out of. Nothing to envy there. We serve God or money. One never fails. The other? Gone in a mini-series minute like all of Lady Crawley's inheritance.
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