When we finally moved back to Colorado, we held on to the cabin for a while, but eventually came to the conclusion that it had to be sold. No matter that it was a blessing when we arrived there every summer, it was also a burden. A priest I once knew said that your possessions own you. So it was with the cabin. We always had to make an early summer trip to make sure that all was OK. We always had to make a fall trip to close things up in anticipation of the winter freeze. There were repairs to be made and wood siding that had to receive that semi-annual coat of protection. Occasionally there were improvements we desired to make — a railing around the porch, a floor that was more than plain plywood, hummingbird feeders to be hung — and taken down.
This return visit to the cabin came to me as I read the closing words of the Gospel. “When the young man heard this statement, he went away sad, for he had many possessions.”
http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/082018.cfm
Ezekiel 24:15-23
Matthew 19:16-22
Years ago, when my family still lived in Kansas, we purchased a lot and built a small cabin in Rainbow Valley. It was a modest place; but it was always a great blessing. Every summer that we owned it the family would come out to Colorado, intent on escaping the midwestern heat and humidity. Our three boys were young and there were marvelous adventures to be had. As you may know, there was a chain of fish ponds in the immediate vicinity that had once been hatcheries for the Colorado fish and game commission; but the government had abandoned them and they were then owned by the defunct Rainbow Valley resort. By purchasing a permit, the Rainbow Valley residents could fish all summer long, never being inundated by tourists. I had to return to work, but my wife would stay for a full month with the boys — I always knew she was a great mom for boys. She visited Colorado friends and family and introduced our sons to the great outdoors — as well as July 4th gatherings and concerts, Cripple Creek melodramas and other such simple mountain pleasures.
When we finally moved back to Colorado, we held on to the cabin for a while, but eventually came to the conclusion that it had to be sold. No matter that it was a blessing when we arrived there every summer, it was also a burden. A priest I once knew said that your possessions own you. So it was with the cabin. We always had to make an early summer trip to make sure that all was OK. We always had to make a fall trip to close things up in anticipation of the winter freeze. There were repairs to be made and wood siding that had to receive that semi-annual coat of protection. Occasionally there were improvements we desired to make — a railing around the porch, a floor that was more than plain plywood, hummingbird feeders to be hung — and taken down.
This return visit to the cabin came to me as I read the closing words of the Gospel. “When the young man heard this statement, he went away sad, for he had many possessions.” If possessions truly own any part of us it is our time; and that thought, too, provokes an additional host of thoughts to flood my mind. Among others were the words of the Psalmist. He tells us that “Man is like a breath, his days are like a passing shadow.” (Psalm 144:4) Being well aware of that, we calculate our time to the fraction of a second (consider the Olympics) and set our clocks to the reverberations of crystals, tuning forks or atoms. We think of the time we have in terms of segments or allotments: an hour to get ready for work. A half hour for the commute. Twenty minutes to meet with Jim Jones. I can allow just five minutes to hear your complaint. And so on.
We often regard our possessions as blessings, and rightly so; for all good things come from God. But these same possessions command and appropriate the time we have. It is easy to let them take priority in our lives at the expense of our relationship with God. From where else does the time they demand come from? But that very question frames the answer. And framing the question in that allotment context will give us a wrong and misleading answer.
Now, while the Christian community benefits when we allot two hours for our presence at worship with the community on Sundays, that’s not really the way it is with God. And, If I object that “I don’t have time to pray all day.” Or that “If I talk to God about everything I do, I’ll never get anything done.” then I’m thinking in terms of a time allotment for God. But God wants the whole thing. He doesn’t want our time; he wants our ‘now.’ He’s always walking with us; he wants us to walk with him. We do so in the same way we include any traveling companion. It’s not a matter of prayer in the usual sense — “Our Father, who art in heaven.” Or “We adore the O Christ and we bless thee.” Rather it’s a matter of prayer in the sense of conversation, the prayer of the now. “Isn’t this a glorious day!” “I’ve been wondering about . . . “ “My friend is doing something that worries me.” “The boss has been over demanding.” “There’s too much on my plate right now.” “Where will I find a parking place?” And it’s also prayer in the sense of consulting: “Hey, you know the area. Which direction do I go from here?”
It’s not a matter of scheduling time — we never have enough of that. His presence, his advice, his guidance are all outside of time and they are best received in the non-allotment of the now.
Matthew’s account of this incident with the rich young man skips one very important detail which Mark was kind enough to include. “Jesus, looking upon him, loved him.” It was then that Jesus said to him, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me." (Mark 10:21) He loves each of us and is asking that we allow him to be our traveling companion. No one knows the way better than him.