March 10, 2019
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Over twenty years ago, I had the privilege of going to Ellis Island with Amy, her parents and her grandparents on her mother’s side. The reason for the trip was to celebrate her grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. We did many things during that trip, but for me one thing has always stuck out – our trip to Ellis Island. You see, like most of us, or possibly every one of us here today, Amy’s story, the story of her family, starts somewhere other than the Unites States of America. We came face to face with that realization at Ellis Island because it was there, on one of the monuments paying tribute to those immigrants whose travels to their new land took them through the Ellis Island gateway, that we found the name Francesco Arcuri, Amy’s Great-Grandfather, her Nanny’s Father. Mr. Arcuri, along with over 12 million other immigrants, entered their new land through Ellis Island. It was a powerful moment for me and one I hope never to forget.
I’m willing to bet that everyone here knows where they come from. For the most part, knowing such information is not too difficult a task. What about the generations that came before you? In terms of knowing where you ancestors came from, how far back can you go? Sadly, I believe I can only go back a couple of generations. Yet, I am one hundred percent certain that if I go back far enough, I will confirm that my family’s roots do not start in the United States of America, and I suspect if you go back far enough your family’s roots don’t either. Grasping this realization may be hard for us today, but our laying claim to this land as our home is only because of the efforts of our ancestors who initially couldn’t.
I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for those homeless refugees when they came to this new land. When we take time to honestly consider their lives back then we must acknowledge them as needing others assistance. We must acknowledge them as aliens. What might they tell us today about their life back then? What lessons would they want to share? What might they think about the ways we tend to talk about this land and its resources like we own them? This mindset of ownership is ingrained in our culture today. We celebrate those who accumulate material things. And we encourage those who can’t, to live a life so that one day they can.
This mindset of ownership has good qualities, I’m sure, but it is also toxic. You see, when you believe you own everything you have, the fear of losing it surfaces. When you believe you own everything, you can’t imagine giving any of it away, especially not to the poor and needy. Let them work hard like you so they can get something they can own. This mindset of complete ownership allows you to believe you have complete dominion. We love laying claim to things as ours. We love the feeling of exercising dominion over the stuff we have worked so hard to obtain. Believing those things to be a gift is just too much to process when you act like and talk like you are the owner. Most of us do work hard and as a result of that effort we should feel good about all that we possess. The ownership question, though, isn’t about worthiness. It’s about mindset.
Why care about the poor? Why care about the hungry? Why care about the alien? Why break yourself open and pour yourself out for them? Questions like these come from someone who has forgotten that their ancestor was once a homeless refugee.
The simple fact is, all God’s children are worthy, but not all have. Some don’t have the bare essentials for continued life and that should make all of us sad. More than that, it should call us to action and because it doesn’t is why this question of ownership is really about the mindset of those who have. If those who have believe they own everything they have, then giving some of it away is always a questionable act. On the other hand, if you realize everything you have is really a gift which you have the benefit of possessing, not owning, but possessing, then giving some of it away should feel like second nature. You see, if yours is a mindset of a gift receiver, then you are more inclined to pay it forward by being a gift giver. That is the reciprocity of love in action. You freely give because once, at some earlier point in your life you received. And for the rest of your days, you remember what it felt like to receive. For the rest of your days you remember what it felt like to need. And because you remember you are transformed.
*****************************
Surely this idea of being a transformed giver was on Moses’ mind when he tells the Israelites to bring some of their first fruits to the tabernacle. First fruits. Not last fruits. Not leftovers. Not the stuff you are getting rid of or throwing away. No, this instruction is about bringing some of your first fruits. How much? Moses doesn’t say. So we don’t really know, but some for sure. There is something else that strikes me about this instruction – it’s why Moses is giving this instruction in the first place. Maybe Moses wants to make sure that when they find themselves in the land where milk and honey are flowing, they remember what it was like before they got there. And maybe Moses knows the best way for them to remember is to create a habit of going somewhere and saying something. Like going to a sacred place and saying something like, “my ancestor was a homeless refugee. My ancestor was an alien. Yet God heard their cry and remained faithful. God is the ultimate gift giver and God gave to my ancestors and it is my honor to give some back. For were it not for the gift giver I would still be a homeless refugee.”
It is truly a remarkable practice in my mind. It’s “an expression of the understanding that God is the true source of life. Moses speaks of a God, after all, who doesn’t just give Israel a home in the land of promise. God has also given her the “firstfruits of the soil” (10) and “all … good things” (11). [1]
But what makes it remarkable is how radically counter-cultural it was for God’s Israelite people and how radically counter-cultural it is for all people everywhere all the time. The Israelites easily succumbed to the temptation to view nature and the celebration of other, lesser, gods as the source of life, just like their neighbors and just like generation after generation after generation of people. It seems all these years later, people aren’t all that different. We easily assume what we have is not a gift from God, but the product of our hard work or good luck.
This instruction to give is an invitation to create a habit in your life. A habit that recognizes the transformative power of love. It’s an invitation to give because God has so richly given in the first place. And why has God given? Well that’s because God is Love and love always gives, and even though love never demands anything in return – love never requires obedience - to truly embrace being loved is to be transformed and to be transformed is to become love too.
This entire story in this Deuteronomy text is about remembering. Every instruction about how to continue living is geared toward remembering how your homeless refugee ancestor once lived. To remember that is to be grounded in the reality that no matter what, at one point you were a receiver of gifts. And because you remember that fact, being a gift giver is second nature. And it is second nature because it is part of who you have always been called to be. Those who fully embrace being loved, give love without question. Such is the reciprocity of love.
**********************************
I wish I could talk with Francesco Arcuri. I wish I could talk to my own ancestors who were once homeless refugees. I want to better understand their experiences. I want to be reminded of all they went through. Just like those Israelites, my ancestor was once a homeless refugee who needed and received help. And by remembering that part of my story, I remember that I am always called to give to someone who needs it. I am always called to give because I remember the time that I needed someone to give to me. I am always called to give out of love because I have been loved and I am love and I thank God for that.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] Bratt, Doug, https://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-starters/lent-1c/?type=old_testament_lectionary
Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Over twenty years ago, I had the privilege of going to Ellis Island with Amy, her parents and her grandparents on her mother’s side. The reason for the trip was to celebrate her grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. We did many things during that trip, but for me one thing has always stuck out – our trip to Ellis Island. You see, like most of us, or possibly every one of us here today, Amy’s story, the story of her family, starts somewhere other than the Unites States of America. We came face to face with that realization at Ellis Island because it was there, on one of the monuments paying tribute to those immigrants whose travels to their new land took them through the Ellis Island gateway, that we found the name Francesco Arcuri, Amy’s Great-Grandfather, her Nanny’s Father. Mr. Arcuri, along with over 12 million other immigrants, entered their new land through Ellis Island. It was a powerful moment for me and one I hope never to forget.
I’m willing to bet that everyone here knows where they come from. For the most part, knowing such information is not too difficult a task. What about the generations that came before you? In terms of knowing where you ancestors came from, how far back can you go? Sadly, I believe I can only go back a couple of generations. Yet, I am one hundred percent certain that if I go back far enough, I will confirm that my family’s roots do not start in the United States of America, and I suspect if you go back far enough your family’s roots don’t either. Grasping this realization may be hard for us today, but our laying claim to this land as our home is only because of the efforts of our ancestors who initially couldn’t.
I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for those homeless refugees when they came to this new land. When we take time to honestly consider their lives back then we must acknowledge them as needing others assistance. We must acknowledge them as aliens. What might they tell us today about their life back then? What lessons would they want to share? What might they think about the ways we tend to talk about this land and its resources like we own them? This mindset of ownership is ingrained in our culture today. We celebrate those who accumulate material things. And we encourage those who can’t, to live a life so that one day they can.
This mindset of ownership has good qualities, I’m sure, but it is also toxic. You see, when you believe you own everything you have, the fear of losing it surfaces. When you believe you own everything, you can’t imagine giving any of it away, especially not to the poor and needy. Let them work hard like you so they can get something they can own. This mindset of complete ownership allows you to believe you have complete dominion. We love laying claim to things as ours. We love the feeling of exercising dominion over the stuff we have worked so hard to obtain. Believing those things to be a gift is just too much to process when you act like and talk like you are the owner. Most of us do work hard and as a result of that effort we should feel good about all that we possess. The ownership question, though, isn’t about worthiness. It’s about mindset.
Why care about the poor? Why care about the hungry? Why care about the alien? Why break yourself open and pour yourself out for them? Questions like these come from someone who has forgotten that their ancestor was once a homeless refugee.
The simple fact is, all God’s children are worthy, but not all have. Some don’t have the bare essentials for continued life and that should make all of us sad. More than that, it should call us to action and because it doesn’t is why this question of ownership is really about the mindset of those who have. If those who have believe they own everything they have, then giving some of it away is always a questionable act. On the other hand, if you realize everything you have is really a gift which you have the benefit of possessing, not owning, but possessing, then giving some of it away should feel like second nature. You see, if yours is a mindset of a gift receiver, then you are more inclined to pay it forward by being a gift giver. That is the reciprocity of love in action. You freely give because once, at some earlier point in your life you received. And for the rest of your days, you remember what it felt like to receive. For the rest of your days you remember what it felt like to need. And because you remember you are transformed.
*****************************
Surely this idea of being a transformed giver was on Moses’ mind when he tells the Israelites to bring some of their first fruits to the tabernacle. First fruits. Not last fruits. Not leftovers. Not the stuff you are getting rid of or throwing away. No, this instruction is about bringing some of your first fruits. How much? Moses doesn’t say. So we don’t really know, but some for sure. There is something else that strikes me about this instruction – it’s why Moses is giving this instruction in the first place. Maybe Moses wants to make sure that when they find themselves in the land where milk and honey are flowing, they remember what it was like before they got there. And maybe Moses knows the best way for them to remember is to create a habit of going somewhere and saying something. Like going to a sacred place and saying something like, “my ancestor was a homeless refugee. My ancestor was an alien. Yet God heard their cry and remained faithful. God is the ultimate gift giver and God gave to my ancestors and it is my honor to give some back. For were it not for the gift giver I would still be a homeless refugee.”
It is truly a remarkable practice in my mind. It’s “an expression of the understanding that God is the true source of life. Moses speaks of a God, after all, who doesn’t just give Israel a home in the land of promise. God has also given her the “firstfruits of the soil” (10) and “all … good things” (11). [1]
But what makes it remarkable is how radically counter-cultural it was for God’s Israelite people and how radically counter-cultural it is for all people everywhere all the time. The Israelites easily succumbed to the temptation to view nature and the celebration of other, lesser, gods as the source of life, just like their neighbors and just like generation after generation after generation of people. It seems all these years later, people aren’t all that different. We easily assume what we have is not a gift from God, but the product of our hard work or good luck.
This instruction to give is an invitation to create a habit in your life. A habit that recognizes the transformative power of love. It’s an invitation to give because God has so richly given in the first place. And why has God given? Well that’s because God is Love and love always gives, and even though love never demands anything in return – love never requires obedience - to truly embrace being loved is to be transformed and to be transformed is to become love too.
This entire story in this Deuteronomy text is about remembering. Every instruction about how to continue living is geared toward remembering how your homeless refugee ancestor once lived. To remember that is to be grounded in the reality that no matter what, at one point you were a receiver of gifts. And because you remember that fact, being a gift giver is second nature. And it is second nature because it is part of who you have always been called to be. Those who fully embrace being loved, give love without question. Such is the reciprocity of love.
**********************************
I wish I could talk with Francesco Arcuri. I wish I could talk to my own ancestors who were once homeless refugees. I want to better understand their experiences. I want to be reminded of all they went through. Just like those Israelites, my ancestor was once a homeless refugee who needed and received help. And by remembering that part of my story, I remember that I am always called to give to someone who needs it. I am always called to give because I remember the time that I needed someone to give to me. I am always called to give out of love because I have been loved and I am love and I thank God for that.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] Bratt, Doug, https://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-starters/lent-1c/?type=old_testament_lectionary