Wealth & fame while the clock is ticking

It’s nearly impossible to overestimate the impact of Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus. How could it be otherwise? His world was literally turned upside down. What had once seemed important turned to dust. What had once seemed consummate evil was elevated to perfect truth. 

And with that same experience came the realization that all the incidentals of life — abundance and deprivation, pleasure and pain, wealth and poverty — were just that, incidentals and of little account.

Image by Engin Akyurt

Reflection - The Secret

By Steve Hall


https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/110522.cfm
Philippians 4:10-19
Luke 16:9-15


We probably know more personal details about St Paul than about any one of the twelve Apostles. Paul had an advantage, of course. Luke’s Acts of the Apostles contains a wealth of information about Paul and his travels but little about the twelve. Moreover, if all the letters of the Apostles were combined they probably would not be as long as Paul’s one letter to the Romans — and Paul wrote many other letters besides Romans.

In his other writings Paul had spoken of his difficulties and persecution. In II Corinthians, for example, we read that Paul suffered forty lashes on three different occasions, that he was three times beaten with rods, that he had endured shipwrecks, that he found himself, at times, in danger from rivers, robbers, Jews, Gentiles, hardship and toil, hunger and thirst. In this morning’s text from Paul’s letter to the Philippians we hear something more; we hear of how he personally dealt with these difficult details in his life. The specific verses come midway.

“I have learned, in whatever situation I find myself, to be self-sufficient.
I know indeed how to live in humble circumstances;
I know also how to live with abundance.
In every circumstance and in all things
I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry,
of living in abundance and of being in need.”

(Philippians 4:10-12

Paul makes it clear that his response to what he has experienced has not come as if naturally inherent to him. Rather, he says: ‘I have learned.’ Paul was an educated man. We know this is true because he was a Pharisee. But what follows in Paul’s remarks stand apart from what one might learn through classroom instruction. His ‘learning’ refers to a way of living, an approach to life which many consider counter-intuitive. 

His list includes being self sufficient, living in humble circumstances (being poor) and living with abundance, living with a well-provisioned table and living in hunger, living in comfort and living with pain. The contrasts drawn are stark. Most of us would have no trouble being comfortable when our physiological needs are satisfied. Likewise, most of us would find our lives difficult if those same needs were but minimally alleviated. Paul ‘learned’ another way, one that he refers to as ‘secret’, or at least not commonly known. The closing line in this elucidation of Paul’s experience completes his thoughts by revealing the focus. I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me.

It’s nearly impossible to overestimate the impact of Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus. How could it be otherwise? His world was literally turned upside down. What had once seemed important turned to dust. What had once seemed consummate evil was elevated to perfect truth. 

And with that same experience came the realization that all the incidentals of life — abundance and deprivation, pleasure and pain, wealth and poverty — were just that, incidentals of little account when measured by the strength for everything through him who empowers me. This is the empowerment that would enable Paul to say to the Corinthians: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities; for when I am weak, then I am strong.” (II Corinthians 12:10)

What Paul describes here as well as in other places is what we refer to as detachment. He, however, goes beyond the simple dictum that we should not become too attached to anything of this world. Instead the focus is directed on the ‘how’ — how can I avoid becoming too attached to anything of this world. How? By having the strength for everything through him who empowers me. How? By recognizing that when I am weak, then I am strong. The presence of Christ in Paul’s life carries with it such exquisite dominion as too diminish the importance of every other thing and thought and principle. Jesus would refer to this in saying “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. . . .” (Matthew 10:37) It is because Paul is acutely aware of the living presence of Jesus in his life that these other things command so little of his attention and concern.

Detachment appears to be a virtue which we approach with an attitude of becoming un-attached. We begin by examining our attachment to things, relationships, practices, ideas, isms or anything else that has entered our lives. Then we proceed to attempt to become un-attached. It is a difficult process for many reasons, not the least of those being our ability to deceive ourselves. Paul appears to have never approached detachment at all, but rather to have become fixedly attached to Jesus and then letting all else fall into its proper place. What happened with Paul is well worth examining for ourselves.

The life directions that sometimes come and which are Spirit provided in their origin frequently fall into a pattern for me. A reflection which turned to the subject of detachment was actually nascent in a conversation about a week ago. For me there had been a long-standing dissonance in any speech or discussion which combined religion and politics. Too often the two had been inappropriately meshed into a thought goulash which was more disgusting than informative. Too often a singular idea drawn from the words of Jesus has been used to justify whatever the speaker chose. The caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland comes to mind, though I paraphrase him here. “When I use a phrase, it means exactly what I choose it to mean. Neither more nor less.”

But . . . Returning to that conversation — two friends had become engaged in a vigorous debate about this religion/politics conundrum. Their exchange was a bit hard to follow since both tended to talk over the words of the other. Moreover, each made points I could agree with and each made points that I could not understand. In the brief week that followed I encountered both priests, pastors and bishops making political statements that these same men would sometimes attempt to justify through religion. Even more interesting was the fact that they were not in political agreement.

In any case, none of this contributed to an acceptable understanding of religion vis-a-vis politics. Then came Paul, or rather then came the Spirit through Paul.

The passion projected in political matters today — either through politicians or the media or the public — is indicative of at least one thing: we are attached! We are attached to either politicians or to ideas or to visions of the future. Frequently, people so attached are called ideologues. The problem, of course, is that ideologues live with human constructs; and we readily become attached to human constructs. Compromise may be the middle ground in human affairs; but it is a compromise between attachments. There is no compromising with truth. Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. He is not the middle ground.

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