“LETTING GO OF ATTACHMENTS”
October 11, 2009
by Susie Allen
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31
~Prayer~
I Let Go of My Accumulations (1951), by Howard Thurman (author, philosopher, theologian, educator and civil rights leader)
My ego is like a fortress.
I have built its walls stone by stone
To hold out the invasion of the love of God.
But I have stayed here long enough. There is light
Over the barriers. O my God—
The darkness of my house forgive/
And overtake my soul.
I relax the barriers.
I abandon all that I think I am,
All that I hope to be,
All that I believe I possess.
I let go of the past,
I withdraw my grasping hand from the future,
And in the great silence of this moment,
I alertly rest my soul.
As the seagull lays in the wind current,/
So I lay myself into the spirit of God.
My dearest human relationships,
My most precious dreams,
I surrender to His care.
All that I have called my own
I give back. All my favorite things
Which I would withhold in my storehouse
From this fearful tyranny,
I let go.
I give myself
Unto Thee, O my God. Amen.
By the time Roger and I got to our cottage in the Adirondacks early last July, I was very aware of how depleted I felt; how grumpy and out of sorts; how ready to check out I was. After a couple of weeks of rest and relaxation, thanks to the much slower pace we kept, I began to wonder about and process what had gotten me to this sorry state. I tried to begin each day with some time for quiet meditation and reflection, and time to gaze out at the peaceful mountains that surround us. And as I loosened my grasp on the hectic schedule and routine of life in Boxborough, I found myself wondering what compelled me to keep up a pace the brought me to such exhaustion. Why did I fill my days and weeks so full? Why did I find it nearly impossible to actually take my designated day off each week, instead finding my way to the computer and email and . . .
Somehow, the question I have read and heard asked so many times in retreats and spiritual reading—a question I have posed to others many times myself—seemed to come now begging for an answer. This time, the question was not theoretical. It was not asked for heady, intellectual musing—it was very real.
What are my attachments? What do I find so important that I will compromise my time, my relationships, my health and—yes—my money—to make sure I have them?
I wrote this one simple question down on a piece of paper and kept it then—and now—on a table in my prayer space. What am I attached to? As the days and weeks opened up, I asked myself the question regularly. And I began to find that if I spent enough time looking, the answers I found to this question were usually unsettling; often making me feel more vulnerable than I want to feel; seeing parts of myself I didn’t want to see. But if I was able to loosen my tight grip and let go, even just a little, I could feel the winds of freedom begin to blow in.
Let me share a story with you. I have been thinking about this sermon for several weeks now, and this week began to focus in on particular points I wanted to make. As so often happens, the week began to fill with unexpected things—the situation in NH; a meeting not originally on my calendar; family needs; decisions and plans regarding events here at church that needed immediate attention. By Thursday afternoon, I had a vigorous email conversation going with several different people about several different situations and needs. I knew I had a commitment at 6:15; and so with dinner to prepare and details to iron out, I was glued to my computer to make sure I got everything completed before my evening commitment. Around 3 p.m., Roger came in my office to tell me that in the process of trying to straighten out an account snafoo with our computers, he discovered that I was no longer able to receive email.
I had a date to take a walk with a friend, so I left the house thinking a good walk would be good right about now. When I returned, Roger was in a chat room with an Apple guru, discussing the problem. I still had no email. I could feel my body tensing in anxiety—I’ve got so many things I’m trying to do right now—people I need to write to and hear from.
I sat down and played the piano for a while. Hmmmmm—that was pretty nice—I hadn’t played the piano in weeks.
But I’ve got business to take care of! Maybe I’ll get dinner started.
By 5 p.m., email was finally back up, but I was elbow-deep in dinner prep. I got the carrots started and ran upstairs to check on email. It was only when I began to smell smoke that I realized my distraction, frustration, and anxiety had prompted me to forget the carrots I had started and by now they were charcoal.
What was I attached to?
Being productive. Being responsible.
What else?
Being prompt. Being clear.
What else?
Being seen as productive and responsible. Being seen as prompt and clear.
What else?
Being thought of as worthy. Being seen by others.
And?
Seeing myself as worthy. Seeing myself.
Do I need the computer and email to do that? No. Ah, freedom.
We’ve all been there in one way or another. Likely in many ways. And that brings us to Jesus and the story we heard this morning.
Jesus has been traveling and teaching. The story begins when a man runs up to Jesus, greeted him with great reverence (a first clue about this man) and asks what he must do to enter the kingdom of God, to get eternal life. Jesus reminds him of the Commandments that all Jews knew about—the commandments given to Moses on Mt. Sinai: don’t murder, steal, lie, cheat . . . and the man says he has kept all these commandments from his youth. You can feel his energy and enthusiasm rising! And then it says “Jesus looked him hard in the eye—and loved him.” I wonder what the man thought at this—I’m almost there! “There’s one thing more: sell whatever you own and give it to the poor. All your wealth will be heavenly wealth. And come follow me.” At this the man, with a heavy heart, walked off. He was not expecting this answer. He was holding on tight to a lot of things and was not about to let go.
Let go, Jesus says. Let go of the things you hold most tightly—your status, your possessions, your priorities, your money. And for what? For entry into the Kingdom of God.
Is that a future hold-out? Something we can only imagine but might never experience? I think not. I believe that Jesus has shown us the Kingdom—that radical kind of living where the first is last and the last is first.
•A vision of abundance in a world of scarcity.
•A vision of security in a world of fear.
•A vision of generosity in a world of greed.
•A vision of giving in a world of getting.
•A vision of sufficiency in a world where there’s never enough.
•A vision of justice in a world that writes off people as readily as it writes off bad debts.
This sounds like the potential of the church—the people gathered together who give thanks, worship, praise and pray together. This sounds like something we might see and know and experience . . . if we can only let go.
What are we attached to? What are we holding onto so tightly that we are unable to experience the love God is offering in the world all around us—love from God; love from friends; love of our self?
Is it an overfull schedule? Is it too much food? Is it having all that our neighbors have? Is it controlling all the details? Is it anger stored up for years?
Is it fear of failure? Is it fear of success? Is it fear of being seen? Fear of not being seen?
When the disciples heard Jesus say it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to get into the Kingdom of God, they threw up their hands and said “then who has any chance at all?”
Jesus said, “No chance at all if you think you can pull this off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you let God do it.”
Together, let us take the risk to let go—even if only just a bit—and see what freedom for God and one another rushes in.
My ego is like a fortress.
I have built its walls stone by stone
To hold out the invasion of the love of God.
But I have stayed here long enough. There is light
Over the barriers. O my God—
The darkness of my house forgive/
And overtake my soul.
I relax the barriers.
I abandon all that I think I am,
All that I hope to be,
All that I believe I possess.
I let go of the past,
I withdraw my grasping hand from the future,
And in the great silence of this moment,
I alertly rest my soul.
As the seagull lays in the wind current,/
So I lay myself into the spirit of God.
My dearest human relationships,
My most precious dreams,
I surrender to His care.
All that I have called my own
I give back. All my favorite things
Which I would withhold in my storehouse
From this fearful tyranny,
I let go.
I give myself
Unto Thee, O my God. Amen.
My Philanthropic Autobiography
Ute Molitor; Boxborough UCC; October 4, 2009
What on earth is a philanthropic autobiography and why am I standing here today to share it with you? Don’t worry, I am not trying to write my autobiography and asking you to review the first chapter. If I were writing my autobiography, I might find myself with the same kind of library Henry David Thoreau once had. If I recall correctly, he once joked how out of the 700 books he had, all but a few were by the same author: Thoreau. I guess back then he had trouble selling self-published copies of Walden.
My job today is to model reflection on some key questions that can help all of us think about the role of grace and generosity in our lives. More particularly, the hope is that we will reflect on the relationships that have been vital in our lives in terms of offering us nurture, guidance and sustenance as well as affording us the opportunity to offer such nurture, guidance and sustenance to others. After all, philanthropy means “love of humanity.”
I (and the stewardship team) believe that by focusing on relationships and partnerships and what they make possible, we can reframe our ideas about stewardship in life-giving ways. We want to tap into the joy that flows when people are helped to fulfill their dreams and use their God given gifts to their greatest potential, when communities flourish, when the delicate eco-system on which we depend springs forth life. Money is an important tool that aids us in the process of stewarding even though it is not at the heart of the matter.
In thinking about how we have been touched by generosity, there are a number of helpful questions we can consider. Perhaps, you’ve had a chance to review these questions which were enclosed in the letter from the stewardship team. If you did not get the mailing, we have extra copies of the questions for you on hand. I won’t respond to all of them today or as in much detail as I would like but want to focus on several critical areas that combine some of the questions:
- What did I learn in my family of origin about generosity, how was money discussed and what impact did that have?
- Who are some of the philanthropic role models that have influenced me and toward whom or what do I feel a sense of gratitude?
- What was a major disappointment or challenge that has shaped who I am today?
- What is the most meaningful charitable gift I have received or given?
When I think about my family of origin, I realize how little we discussed money and that we never did so in relationship to church. I regard that as a huge missed opportunity.
We gave to church but Germany still has a disempowering collaboration between church, that is the Catholic Church and the main Protestant denominations, and state when it comes to collecting money. The state collects something like a church tax from everyone on the church rolls, gives the money to the church at large and keeps a small amount to cover administrative costs. This probably still dates back to a time when faith communities ran most charitable institutions like hospitals, nursing homes, etc.
As a disempowering consequence, you never really see what you give except if you are the one to review the tax statements or payroll stubs. The closest I got as a child to getting a sense of what contributions can do was trying to fill my little Unicef cardboard box I received at church with some of my allowance to collect money for the children of the world. I believe parents and other engaged adults have a unique role and opportunity in teaching children about how they connect their values to their giving of time, talent and treasure. Thankfully, my younger stepdaughter has come right out and asked us over dinner how much money we make and what we do with it. It made for amazingly rich conversation and I encourage you to do the same if you have not already done so.
Such conversations can also benefit the life of the church. At the seminar on stewardship that Jennifer and I attended in April, the program leaders pressed the point on multiple occasions that pastors should let their congregation know how much they give (although I am certainly not equating our relationship to that of parent and child). There are a number of reasons for this. A. A leader has to model generous giving. B. Members may assume that pastors don’t pledge since they are employees of the church but they are, in fact, actively pledging members. C. Congregations benefit from open conversation about money and giving because it can get them in touch with their own values even if their situation constrains them to do as much financially as they would like to.
Of course, I hesitate a bit about sharing on that level because I don’t want those on fixed incomes or those going through financial strain to become self-conscious about what they give when it comes to money. Every family’s and individual’s situation is unique. However, recently I read the phrase that sometimes the only available mode of transportation is a leap of faith. Today, I am taking the leap of faith that all those church consultants have it right and that something good can come of my sharing. The bottom line is that my adjusted gross income last year was $55,885 and my personal charitable giving was $5,097 out of which $2800 went to our church operating budget and missions. Together, Mark and I pledged just under $5000 and plan to cross that threshold in the next fiscal year.
I learned to give gradually and am still learning as I seek to tithe. My giving has been prompted by the witness of others who have supported me over the years. You can learn about one of my biggest role models, Betty Laschinger, in my Vestry News article that has just come out. Without her, I would not have made it through college! There is also much I could say and have said about my parents who invested sweat, blood, tears and money to raise and support their three daughters. While we didn’t talk about money, they did teach me about volunteering. My mother spent a lot of time assisting the elderly and was a volunteer in a pediatric hospitality. She would talk and play with children whose parents had to work during the day. My mother was also a master at offering generous hospitality, which even once led to having an entire Dutch family she met in the local discount grocery store stay with us. As always, she had struck up a conversation with total strangers and when she found out that they were looking for a cheap hotel to spend the night, she told them to come on over. That meant air mattresses and other contraptions all over the place but it all worked out.
Among the greatest challenges that have shaped who I am today was the loss of my older sister, Gudrun, to heart failure at age 36. Her condition could not be addressed through surgery. She was one of the most generous people I ever met. Her job as a bookstore clerk never paid much but she was generous with what she had, time treasure and talent. Let me just mention one little adventure we had together that illustrates how far she was willing to go to help others.
I had to take the TOEFL test (Test of English as a Foreign Language) as a prerequisite to getting accepted to a college in the US. It meant that I had to get myself from my hometown of Trier to Frankfurt about three hours away. I was trying to figure out how to get there on my shoestring budget, but Gudrun offered to drive me without hesitation. The test was early in the morning and we had to leave the night before. We drove in her little red car and ran into car trouble about an hour away from home. A kind stranger saw us by the side of the road and pulled over to help. Thankfully, he managed to get the car running again after quite some time.
When we made it to Frankfurt, it was too late to get to a youth hostel and we ended up sleeping in the mission shelter of the train station. One of our bunkmates was a homeless woman who introduced herself as a psychic palm reader. My sister allowed her to read her palms for a small fee to help the woman out. She promptly predicted a long life with a handsome husband and many children, none of which ever came about. Anyway, we made it to the test site after little sleep. She waited patiently for hours and then drove us home. That was the kind of sister I had – always there for you no matter what you needed. She even paid for the gas because I had barely enough money to pay for the test. She wanted me to achieve my dreams.
Interestingly, my greatest challenge is also related to what has been the most meaningful charitable gift I have been able to make. Losing my sister was another wake-up call about what really matters in life: to be there for one another in good times and in bad and to invest in nurturing lives beyond my own. Some of you may recall my friend Bishnu from Nepal. She is also one of my philanthropic role models. Bishnu has started women’s savings groups that have empowered women and children of the untouchable cast. Bishnu grew up in the untouchable cast and suffered intense discrimination. Thanks to her indomitable spirit and help from lots of friends, over 1600 women are now organized and are sending their girls to school, learning about basic healthcare, literacy, and are starting little businesses of their own. We have even begun to send some of the highschool grads on to additional schooling so they can become teachers and doctors in their communities. Our church has sponsored women’s groups and has given money for a micro loan financing project that will help even more women to improve their lives and the health of their communities.
Personally, it has been a joy to be involved with these projects as a board member. But a far more personal occasion of giving has been most meaningful to me. When I visited Nepal in 2006, I met Bishnu’s sister Bindu and her little daughter Crostina. Crostina is a very curious, playful and bold child who was constantly into my things and on my lap. Last spring, Crostina’s mom, Bindu, began to feel increasingly weak. It came to the point that she could hardly walk although she is in her mid-twenties. Tests showed that two heart valves were failing and that she would die without an operation.
Without an insurance system, the family had to come up with $8000 in cash to save her life. Many of us came together and raised the money with Bishnu taking on the biggest share of it. Bindu survived the difficult operation and has fully recovered. She is back to trying to catch up with little Crostina. I know without a doubt in my heart, that were my sister alive today and had heard about Bindu’s story, she would have given generously to try to help someone else live a healthy life. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to give in my sister’s memory. Not surprisingly, Bindu’s story has allowed me to remember my sister and once again get in touch with my own grief over losing her eleven years ago as well as my deep gratitude for her love and generosity. Gifts come when we give.
The truth of the matter is that there are thousands of real lives that we are touching as a church through our witness and generosity as we give of ourselves in time, talent and treasure. It may be the card we send to someone who is grieving or the meal we prepare for someone who is ill or the time we spend stocking the shelves at the local food pantry. We just don’t always get to see it up close and personal but I pray that we will continue to take that leap of faith in believing that by giving as we are able, we are blessed and to give thanks for all the good the Holy Spirit can do when we dare to dare. I also pray that we will begin to share more stories of how generosity has touched our lives with our children and with each other. Our lives will be enriched by it. Thanks be to God.
