Meditations from Zion

Paul is a little testy with the Corinthians in Chapter 4. He compares his lifestyle with theirs. It would be like comparing Mother Teresa’s lifestyle with mine. Indeed, what is wrong with this picture?

I Corinthians 4:8a, 9a
Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! . . . For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like men condemned to die in the arena.

I was uncomfortable reading Paul today. After all, he’s writing to me just as much as he’s writing to the Corinthians. Compared to the poor of the world, I am living a king’s life. Compared to the relative wealth in any third world country, I am still living like royalty. In Africa, the villager measures wealth by land and cattle and food to eat. In America, we measure wealth by extraneous “toys” like electronics, paper money, investments, cars, and multiple bathrooms in a house.

This is still my stumbling block. It always has been and until my life changes, it will continue to be a plank in my eye [Luke 6:42].

I am afraid to be poor again.

How many times have a I sat in a Bible study or small group and talked about our wealth? We nod our heads and agree it’s problematic, but then we all return to our three and four bedroom houses with two and a half baths and two cars sitting in the driveway. Minimum.

Or, to make ourselves feel better, we drag out the Biblical examples of the wealthy who were close to Jesus: Joseph of Arimathea (who gave up his tomb for Jesus) or Zacchaeus, the tax collector, who climbed a tree to see Jesus and entertained him that night (oh, wait, he gave a way huge portions of his accumulated wealth that day).

Honestly, there’s no getting around it. Our wealth is a type of sin. We can tithe 10%, 15%, or even 20% and still we are carefully holding and caring and multiplying the remainder.

Oh, we say it’s only the “love of money” that is sin [I Timothy 6:10]. So, I don’t “love” money? I just love what money can buy. I love it’s power so much I spend more than I earn and put myself in debt.

Paul says to imitate him. I can’t do it. There’s a reality check. No. I have to find my own balance between culture, commitment, and Christ. This is not the first century.

I have no real solution. But I do know that it’s here where the voice of God must enter my soul and bring revelation. It is here where grace must make her appearance. It is here where mercy must do battle with condemnation. It is here where potential change must be embraced within the loving arms of a Redeemer.

Just as Jesus accepted the prostitutes and beggars, he accepts me. And just as he transformed them, he can transform me. I don’t know what that will look like. I cannot know the true outcome of this picture. I can only trust the Artist.