1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31
There is nothing wrong with money. We need it to pay for food, for clothes, for college accommodation, for the essentials of life such as a mobile contract and Netflix subscription (other channels are available). Money is the means which makes daily life possible, and the lack of it makes living a whole lot more challenging.
And yet what if money becomes not the means, but the end? What are the risks if money becomes a goal in itself, and the pursuit of more money becomes that which shapes our lives?
In our gospel reading today Jesus tells a parable which seems to have been aimed, in part at least, at people whose relationship with money was fundamentally disordered. Just a few verses before our reading started, Luke mentions that among Jesus’ listeners were Pharisees, religious leaders known for their piety and strict observance of the religious laws. Yet these Pharisees are also described as ‘lovers of money’. And it appears that the parable of the rich man and Lazarus is aimed at them.
And boy would it have shocked them, for in it Jesus is turning assumed norms upside down.
It was thought that people’s riches were a sign of God’s blessing and favour, whereas in the story the poor man Lazarus ends up in the bosom of Abraham and the rich man in a place of torment.
It was thought that money opened doors in this life and the next, whereas in the story the riches and pleasures of this life have nothing to do with the life to come. The rich man thinks he can order the poor man around but he finds that he can’t.
It was thought that rich (and religious) people might merit special treatment from God, whereas in the story Abraham says that everyone has the same revelation from God through Moses and the prophets.
For all his success and status and pleasure in this life, the rich man has missed the point of life which is to be in relationship with the one who made him and who holds all time in his hands.
The Pharisees would certainly have smarted at such a parable; Jesus is taking aim at their love of money and accusing them of missing what really matters.
But before we go in too hard on the rich man and the Pharisees it wasn’t just them. About thirty years after Jesus told this parable the apostle Paul was writing to his protegee Timothy, very possibly living in affluent Ephesus. And as we heard in our first reading he diagnoses the same problem: ‘for the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.’ In that community, it seems, there were people who had turned money from a means into an end, making it an object of love and desire, instead of the one who calls human beings to love him above all things.
It doesn’t take AI-level research to suggest that the problem of loving money didn’t disappear in the first century. Cast around in the waters of social media and we can see plenty of evidence of a love for money every bit as vivid as it was in the Ephesus.
And it is loving money that’s the real problem. Because yes, we handle money, and earn money, and give money and save money. But as human beings we are not called to love money. We are called to love above all things God, the one who made us, who knows us, who loves us, who calls us, the one in whose worship and presence we can find all our longings satisfied.
I suspect that is what made Jesus so down on the Pharisees. They had replaced the most wonderful adventure of life, exploring and living in the love and presence of God, with a love of money. Their hearts were facing in entirely the wrong direction - on what they could touch and store and count and carry rather than the one who longed to hold and carry them, and could keep them safe for eternity. Small wonder that they had turned the law from being a framework for holy living into a stick to beat other people with.
Loving money leads us to strive for that which will not last. Loving God invites us to take hold of that which will.
It is great having students with us today, perhaps returning to Durham after a summer away or coming to Durham for the first time. We are so pleased to have you here. And I wonder what you are looking forward to pursuing in the academic year ahead. Growing in knowledge, I am sure. Making good friends. Joining teams and societies. Having a great time. Here at Durham Cathedral we are cheering you on.
But university is also a precious opportunity to consider the most important questions of life, and with that in mind let me take us back to these words from St Paul in our first reading: ‘but as for you…pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness.’ And if that sounds frightfully earnest and hard work, it doesn’t need to be. It is an invitation to start from wherever you are and think about the things that will nourish you and sustain you not just now but into the future. One good way is to join in with worship here at Durham Cathedral, joining over 900 years of people who have found meaning in this place.
I came up to university not really sure what I believed, and not really that keen to do much about it. But one of the things that nudged me along the way was coming to a place almost as beautiful as this and joining in worship that I am not sure I really understood but which showed me something of the beauty of God. And that caught my imagination, and step by step God caught my heart. Please know that wherever you are in your journey of faith, Durham Cathedral welcomes you.
There is nothing wrong with money, but it’s not everything. It’s a good means, but it’s not the end. We are called not to love money but to love the God who made all things, gives all things and holds all things.
In a moment we will be invited to come to the Lord’s table and receive bread and wine. Not the sumptuous feast of the rich man’s table to be sure, but something more wonderful and certainly more lasting. For to us this bread and wine become nothing less than the body and blood of Christ, the one who gave his life for us, a gift more precious than money could ever buy and an expression of God’s love which flows freely even today. Amen.