Springwood Presbyterian Church: Whitsett, NC

Luke 12: 13-21

The 10^th commandment warns against coveting, and, by implication, it commends us to have a charitable attitude toward our neighbors.  Covetousness is a form of idolatry, because when we covet, we put material things before God.  In the story of Ahab and Naboth, coveting leads to theft and lies, and finally, to murder.  As we return to the saga of King Ahab, almost 8 centuries before Jesus’ time, we may see similarities between the greedy farmer of Jesus’ parable and Ahab’s desire for Naboth vineyard.  God’s design for the world stands on neighborliness and sharing, rather than on power-grabbing and greed. 

I Kings 21: 1-24                                                                                                  8-01-10

God’s Social Security Plan

When it began in 1935—the middle of the Great Depression—the purpose of the Social Security Administration was “to pay retired workers age 65 and older a continuing income after retirement.”  It was meant to provide for the basic needs of the elderly, even if they had no other income--a great idea, but, as we know, for those without a pension or a sturdy stock portfolio, today it’s really not enough.  And of course there’s no assurance the fund will be around 20 years from now.

The idea of universal social security actually began much earlier than 1935.  God set up a plan for the Hebrew people thousand years ago.  It, too, had great potential, but it depended on the cooperation of everyone to work.  Naboth’s story sheds some light on God’s plan—and on how it could apply to us today.

By some ways of reckoning, Ahab was a good king: he rebuilt Jericho; made the little village of Samaria into a fine city; strengthened Israel’s military alliance with her sister country Judah; developed a strong commercial trade with Israel’s neighbor, Sidon, after his marriage to Jezebel, daughter of the king.

On the other hand, when he married Jezebel, he let her bring idol worship into Israel, along with a particularly destructive political tradition: that the king’s wishes were law.  Before Jezebel, the law came from God and covered all of life: religious, economic, political, social.  The king’s job was to make sure people followed God’s law.  Jezebel’s idolatry changed the political and moral life of the nation—and not for the better.

It may seem to us that Naboth’s refusal to make a deal with Ahab is petty.  It was just a real estate transfer, for goodness’ sake—just one little piece of ground.  If Ahab wanted a vegetable garden, shouldn’t he be able to have it right next to his palace?  After all, he wasn’t trying to steal it.  He offered Naboth a fair price for the land, and, as an alternative, he would trade Naboth an equally valuable piece of land elsewhere.  Was Naboth being obstinate?  Did he bring this tragedy on himself?

No.  As much as Ahab wanted that vineyard, he knew Naboth was right not to give it up.  It was Naboth’s ancestral land, passed down and tended by generations of his family.  More, it was holy land—holy because God set it apart for the use of God’s people.  When the Hebrew people came into Canaan after their 40-year trek across the Sinai peninsula, the elders of the twelve tribes were told to parcel out the land among the families in each tribe.  Everyone would have a place to live where they could grow crops and graze sheep.  No one would ever have to be homeless or hungry again.

The notion of each family having land to supply its own needs—such a blessing after their destitution in Egypt--was so important that the book of Leviticus devotes two  chapters of laws just to the sale of property. (Numbers 34-35)  In one place, God says, The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine.  With me, you are but aliens and tenants. (25:23)  Very different from what we practice today.  A person who fell on hard times could sell, but their relatives were obligated to try to buy the land back.  In the meantime, the better-off relatives had to take care of the less fortunate family.  Then, every 50 years—the year of jubilee—all debts were to be cancelled, all property returned to its original owners or their heirs.  That way, no one could permanently accumulate large holdings, while others were deprived. 

It was a very effective three-pronged social security plan, like a 3-legged stool: land, so each family could support themselves; laws, to ensure justice, so no one could take advantage of others; and the family and the community as the safety net when all else failed.  All of this was ordained by God, who created the earth and all that’s in it--and made human beings stewards of it.

Naboth understood the value of his vineyard.  Not its commercial value, but its value as home and food for generations to come—its value as a link to generations past—its value as a precious gift from God.  He wasn’t its owner, only its steward, taking care of it, so it could take care of people into the future.  Without any of the three legs, the stool would topple and the system would fail.

Ahab understood this, too, but he didn’t like it.  He hated being thwarted, and it made him want the property even more—even more than he wanted to serve God and Israel.

We’ve come a long way from the biblical ideal of stewardship of the land.  Those of us who don’t plant and sow may find it hard to see how connected to the land we are.  I remember chaperoning kindergarten field trips to the demonstration farm at NC A & T.  There was at least one child in each group who couldn’t believe that tomatoes, potatoes, beans, apples come from plants and trees.  “Nu-uh—my Mama gets that from the store.”

Yet God still calls us to be stewards of the land—and keepers of the community— and guardians of God’s justice.  How well are we doing?

Each of us might honestly say, “I’ve never taken someone’s land.  I’ve never lied in court to cheat someone out of land.  I’ve certainly never committed murder.”  But then, neither did Ahab, directly. …  He let Jezebel and others do it for him, while he reaped the benefit.  But he was guilty too: an accomplice to injustice, allowing trickery and violence to replace justice.

Ahab reminds me of a comedian some of you remember, Flip Wilson.  Asked about his religion, he answered, “I’m a Jehovah’s Bystander.  They asked me to be a Jehovah’s Witness, but I didn’t want to get involved.”  God’s people must get involved wherever there’s injustice.

There’s plenty around.  We can look as far away as the Middle East, where Palestinians have been forcibly removed from the land the United Nations portioned out from them when the modern state of Israel was formed; or we can look as near as our own backyard, where there are hundreds of people without adequate shelter:

• Some, because of substance abuse or mental illness, cannot help themselves;
• Some are homeless because a plant closed and other jobs aren’t available
• Others are underemployed.  Even working full time, they don’t make enough money to support a family in a home.  Thomas Jefferson echoed the biblical prophets when he observed that, when a nation has unemployed poor, “it is clear that the laws of property … violate natural right.”
• Many have a roof over their heads, but their living conditions are substandard.
• Farm land is disappearing.  Farmers make far more money selling their land for industry or housing developments than farming it.  Is it good stewardship?  Intense development adds silt to the creeks and rivers, making them less useable for drinking water and recreation, and causing erosion on land downstream.

As God’s people—the community of faith—we are called not only to avoid doing injustice, but also to actively try to bring justice wherever we can:

• To pay attention when people are dispossessed and ask why
• To ask, when some have more than they need and others have too little, what God would have us do about it
• And to work for change—to back up the practice of God’s social security system, for, as important as our charity is, it only alleviates the problems for a little while.  Justice—God’s justice—cures them.

God’s plan can work, and it doesn’t need a huge bureaucracy to make it happen.  In North Carolina, land, community, and justice can and do come together to preserve the land and to prevent or mitigate homelessness:

Consider:

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  • The Piedmont Land Conservancy helps people pass their land along to the coming generations in a condition that will keep it useful forever

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  • Some businesses like the Proximity Hotel in Greensboro, and farmers like the Goat Lady dairy are using a “sustainability” model to prevent overuse of land and natural resources.  How might we, at home and here at church, move in that direction?
  • Recycling is a good start.  Many of you are faithful recyclers.  We now recycle at church, with a can in the kitchen for clean office paper, cans, bottles and cardboard.
  • Habitat, of course, does marvelous work at helping people own their own homes.  Our money and our volunteer time help with that.
  • There are groups that to help people repair their homes so they can continue to live there—nearby, as well as in places where disasters have happened, like the Gulf Coast.
  • Various agencies provide shelter for victims of domestic violence, for at- risk children, for people recovering from drug and alcohol abuse.  Although most are partly state-funded, they also depend in large part on the contributions made by churches and individuals.

And God, of course, is at the heart of bringing wholeness to the world, by changing lives and moving our hearts to follow God’s will.

I hope the Social Security Administration will thrive and aid me and my children and grandchildren—and yours--in our retirement—but let us do our part for God’s social security plan.