I can quit anytime I want

Disregard him in a way that honors him.

Luke 12.29-34

Do not worry what you will eat or what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, and yet God feeds them. Consider the lilies: they neither toil nor spin; yet Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. If God so clothes the grass of the field, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!

Do not keep striving for what you are to eat and drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

It is only after you’ve actually sold your possessions that you discover how monstrous an addiction it is. The reason you squirm every time you come across this verse is because it tells you are an addict. Christ confronts you about your addiction and you respond exactly as an addict would: “I don’t have a problem. I do it now and then because it helps me relax, but I’m not hooked. I can quit anytime I want.”

In a devotional with a group of short-term missionaries I used a poster from the Marines (Pain is weakness leaving the body: The question isn't how much more you can take but how much more you can give.) I told them that Christ was serious when he told us to sell our possessions: that we are disciples only if we are disciples in the way he says. The response from the group ranged from congratulatory remarks to outrage. A man who later became an elder in our church was especially hostile, responding in undisguised anger in front of the group, raising his voice and throwing up his hands in exasperation at my inability to understand simple literary devices such as hyperbole. I was surprised. Everyone there was a short-term missionary. I was not expected for such emotion. Later the group leader closed with prayer and corrected my talk in his prayer.

No one is bothered if we say Luke 12 means we must be more generous or that some people might need to dial their spending back a bit. But if you refuse to let people off the hook (they are hooked after all), if you confront them and tell them Christ is serious, they become angry. Smiles fade. The elder flips through his Bible to prove you wrong. The group leader points out that Christ says we shall be known by our love. One person replied, “Even Satan can quote Scripture to suit his purposes.”

What explains such hostility? Why do people get so uncontrollably upset when someone ways we need to do what Christ says? What explains this phenomenon where the rich are more miserly than the poor? What explains the poor person apologizing for not giving more and the rich person convincing himself he is right to refuse?

The answer is drugs. No one reacts like this unless he is addicted. The rich hold on tightly not because they better understand monetary concepts but because they are addicted. The addict is fine when he is with people who share his addiction but gets angry when he is confronted by someone who tells him he is a problem and refuses to let him squirm. He can’t let anyone know he desperately needs his drugs. He shares to prove he's not addicted, but he would never give up his stash. He won’t admit it because because that's the first step toward losing it. When he is face-to-face with the truth, he cannot let it touch him. His defense cannot be found in logic or Scripture and so he resorts to anger, because he know loud works. Usually.

Every time he tries squirm away with his pat answer (“Christ is saying only we are to be good stewards. Scripture says if I don’t care for my family I am worse than an unbeliever. If everyone gives everything then everyone will be broke. How do we support missionaries if everyone is broke?” And their favorite: “It’s hyperbole! Don’t you know anything about principles of hermeneutics?!”) you say, “No. Christ is saying it to you. You have to do it if you claim to be a disciple.” In no time you will have an out-of-control man in your face, telling you that you have no understanding of Scripture, that you are theologically naïve, and—most satisfying to him—that you are unloving. He will go away, satisfied that he has gotten the best of you because all the others agree with him. But he will avoid you. For days. Months. Years. Because he has been outed and he hates you for it.

There’s no doubt: it is difficult. Coming off drugs is torture. Twisting and writhing, you have to fight every second of the way to resist the tremendous urgings to go back. The constant pleadings to “come back! come back!” are at times almost irresistible.

But little by little you struggle free, until finally, painfully, desperately you break free and find yourself beyond the curtain. Then, exhausted, weakened, you look back and see the murky horror you escaped from. And finally you know what it was that had you in its grip: an ugly, hideous narcotic: draining the life from you, all the while whispering in your ear: “Everything’s fine. You want this. You need this.”

There is nothing hyperbolic about Jesus’ teaching. He was not talking just to the Twelve. His statement is to everyone, and it is this:

• If you claim to trust God but don’t, you are no different from those who make no claim.

• If you get your food and drink and clothing the same way as they do, you’re the same as they are.

• God is 180° the opposite direction. You don’t find him by heading the same direction as everyone else. If you haven’t turned around you’ll never get there.

• You have to make a deliberate break. You don’t automatically go the right direction. You don’t inevitably get there.

• The direction you need to go is fearful. That’s why it requires trust.

The Quest Study Bible is noteworthy for being one of the few that dares touch the subject. But they touch it only for a second. (Wow, that was hot!) Here’s their explanation of Luke 12.33-34:

Jesus’ concern is that our possessions do not possess us. Some have felt that God wanted them to take a vow of poverty, learning to trust him by giving away everything they owned to help the poor. Others look to other verses in the Bible to help interpret this one. They believe the point here is that all we have belongs to God. But he gives us the responsibility to manage those possessions in ways that will honor him and accomplish his will.

Where in Luke 12 does Jesus say that our possessions shouldn’t possess us? Such a statement is contrived solely in the mind of the commentator. It might be argued that Matt 6.24 says this, but the point of that verse is that money will cause us to hate God. The warning there is not that we might lose control, but that we will lose control. Being “concerned” about our possessions possessing us is not the point: they do.

Jesus says in Luke 12 is that when we chase after the things that unbelievers chase after we look like unbelievers. To trust God means we know him to be a loving Father. To not trust him means we... well, we don’t trust him! When we live like unbelievers we look like unbelievers.

How do you think God reacts when we call him untrustworthy? unloving? We claim to live by faith but resist anything that requires it. We claim to follow Christ but stay as far away as possible.

Why do we pray “Thy kingdom come” when that means everything we’ve devoting our lives to building will be destroyed? Isn’t it understood that the kingdom of God is not the kingdom of the world? Isn’t it understood that the two are so incompatible that the one must be destroyed if the other is to exist? Isn’t it understood that you can’t work in the world to bring about the kingdom?

Jesus pleads with us: Please don’t do this! You turn from God to the world for the things you need. You call it “managing your money” but you’re the one being managed. It's not stewardship; it's slavery.

You’re blind. Drugged. Addicted. Ridiculous.

Stop it.

It's embarrassing.