Earlier this week, I was out at a rather noisy restaurant, with a friend from work, Sarah. Sarah is hearing impaired. At around the age of 5 she started to rapidly lose her hearing, and by early high school, she was completely deaf and had forgotten what it was like to hear sounds. So, Sarah had to rely on and trust her friends to cue her when they were talking so she could face them to read their lips, and know what they were saying. But then, towards the end of college, she got a cochlear implant, which is a surgically implanted electronic device that provides a sense of sound to a person who is profoundly deaf or severely hard of hearing. Sarah says that in one of the commercials for cochlear implants, they show a mother entering a room with a small child, who is playing at a table. The mother says the child’s name, and the boy turns around, and the mother with tears in her eyes hugs the child. And, then the voiceover with inspirational music says, “this child is hearing his mother’s voice say his name for the first time, thanks to cochlear implants.”
The commercial drives Sarah absolutely nuts. She says that the child has no idea that the mother is saying his name, and really he’s just completely confused, scared, and trying to understand the nerve impulses and noises that are overwhelming his brain. When Sarah got her cochlear implant, she had to learn to hear, how to interpret sounds, to decipher through noise.
For most of us, I don’t think we ever have to learn to hear, or at least we can’t remember ever learning. It just sort of happens. We don’t actively think about it. But my friend Sarah has to listen closely, thinking about the noises she hears, so she can decipher them. As a result she has a lot of opinions about how sound works. And earlier this week, as we were sitting in the noisy restaurant, for whatever reason talking about what it was like for her to learn to hear, I could tell she was concentrating more and more on reading my lips, as more people arrived at the restaurant and it got louder and louder. And then Sarah paused what she was saying and just looked around in absolute annoyance and said, “You know, I think you hearing people lie to yourselves. You have this ridiculous idea that the louder you turn up the volume on a speaker, the louder you raise your voice, the easier it will be to hear something. You are all fooling yourselves, because the louder you make a noise, the more it distorts the sound, and it’s actually harder to understand what’s being said.
I think most of us have been guilty of this at some point in our lives. We shout increasingly louder so that we will be heard, thinking that the loudest voice will be the one that will be heard, and listened to. We honk our car horns, believing it will miraculously make standstill traffic move. We turn up the volume, filling our headphones with music, to ignore the voices of the people around us. Some of us even need sound to fall asleep, using machines or fans, to create a blanket of white noise. Our culture exists on the premise that the loudest noise, the flashiest advertisement, or most frequently heard political campaign slogan, will be heard. We increasingly fill our space with noise, overwhelming our ears and brain, to drown out sounds we don’t want to hear, focusing with tunnel vision.
It’s somewhat of a denial and repression approach to life…If I create enough noise in this part of my life, I’ll drown out the other sounds, and get what I want. If I create enough noise, teasing my siblings, turning up the radio, making a mess of things, I’ll get my parents attention. If I just study, study, study, then afterwards I’ll have time to relax, then I’ll have time be with my friends, and then I’ll be able to try all these other things I’ve heard about and want to experience. If I just work harder and longer, I’ll get the promotion I need, and then I’ll have the money to relax, spend time with my family, take that vacation, and get to that to do list. If I fight through the pain, then it will eventually go away. But really the noise just builds, until the sound gets distorted. We miss the world around us, in our insular concert halls, that echo back at us only the noise we’ve created.
In our lesson this morning from Luke, “The Parable of the Rich Fool” We hear the story of successful, rich man. When I hear the story, I think of that young person who has diligently practiced a music instrument or a sport, with minimal passion, with only the sole reason of it one day looking good on a college application. I think of the college student who majors in something they don’t enjoy, because one day, if they work hard enough, it will result in a “good” career, that will help support their family. I think of the man or woman who works constantly, missing shared moments, losing sight of why they are working in the first place, all to make life “good” for their family. I think of those people who do the responsible things, everything they’ve been told to do, and one day, there is a window, a space to breathe, but they have become too consumed by the noise, and so they create more noise, and build bigger barns to hold it all, ignoring the moment of blessing and peace God has given them. And they say to themselves “And I will to say to my soul: ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, and be merry.”
But God, kind of punches them in their gut, and says “You fool! You ridiculous fool. You have not listened through the noise. Your life is about end, and what have you done with this blessing I have given you? You have not me trusted me. You have forgotten please and thank you 101. You have not returned thanks to me for this blessing I have given to you. You have not answered my call to love your neighbors, sharing this blessing of food I have given you. Now, whose is all this?...You thought only of yourself, and you are not rich toward God.”
You are not rich toward God.
This past week for me was filled with many unexpected moments with God speaking through today’s scripture passage. It was blessing that in many ways disquieted my soul.
As most of you know, in addition to being here, I am currently doing a full time residency as a hospital Chaplain. And one of my very first patient visits this week was with a man who was preparing himself for a rather risky surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his brain that had already started to effect how he thought and spoke. This man is a man who in his words, has “not one, but three terminal illnesses, has serious addictions, has lived on an off the streets most of his life, and is deeply indebted to God for the blessings and kindness of strangers, who have helped him along the way. This man believes that God wants him to share his story, so that others might hear and learn. So as he prepared himself, by sharing his story, I sat at his bed listening. And then rather suddenly he paused from his story, looked at me, and said, “You know, I ain’t got money, but I am not poor. I am rich. I am rich in the Spirit of God.” And I thought, “you know God…it’s only Monday morning, maybe next time we could try easing into this.”
“I am rich in the Spirit of God”.
I have been struggling all week with that, trying to figure out what it means to be rich toward God. And what I keep coming back to is, I don’t think I have been rich towards God. I mean there may be moments, but I am fairly certain that God’s head is just shaking, saying you silly ridiculous fool, all these things you have prepared, whose will they be.
I think I get sucked into the noise of life, speaking louder, working harder, moving faster, letting the sound reach a point of distortion, rather than stopping to listen and return thanks. It’s exhausting, and when I hear the rich fool, I think to myself oh how I want to one day say to my soul: “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years, relax, eat, drink, and be merry.”
Our world is one where responsibility and hard work are valued and pushed to limits. To do otherwise in our world would be foolish. But perhaps, we need to be a little foolish with our time, talents, and treasure. Perhaps we need to foolishly share the blessings we have been given, rather than saving them away, only for them to be forgotten, collecting dust in the attics of our souls. Perhaps with a little foolishness, we will be able to let the noise settle and hear, in beautiful pitch perfect sound, the quite whispers and booming thunders of God, and return thanks.
Someone else told me this week, “you know I think this is my time of eating, drinking, relaxing, and being merry. I have a wonderful family that I get to see, children that I adore. I work hard, but I love what I do, and I see how it’s meaningful. This is my time. I am rich in God, and I get to share that. I don’t know how much more thankful to God I could.”
Today we will remember in our communal act of Communion, that God with great sacrifice, grace, and love, prepares a table before us. As we come to that table, perhaps our prayer can be for God to grant us the courage to be foolish enough to take the time out of our schedules of responsibility to return thanks, by preparing a table before God that invites our neighbors, our friends, and families, to share in our riches, so that we too may be rich in the Spirit of God.
Amen.