First, there were the oaks, leaves falling, season after season. Beneath them, wet with rain, white filaments of fungi would reach up, grasping at every scrap of carbon, turning the cells stripped of chloroform into the dark humus of earth. Worms would come and do their work, eating the soil, gathering nutrients from the microbes inside. Their castings would accumulate, a rich amalgam of creatures, ready to host more life. An acorn would fall, another oak would grow, and beneath it a buckeye and beautyberry, inland sea oaks and shade loving sedges. This process would repeat, century after century, and the result would be a thin layer of life giving soil—the topsoil—accumulating to an inch every three hundred years or so.
The land was cleared a century back, planted in grass, grazed by cattle. The process of building soil slowed but continued. But then the farmer’s children left, cities called and rose. The land was passed from the pioneer parents, whose claim to its possession was backed by the force of government, the indigenous inhabitants long ago pushed to “worthless” lands to the west. The property went to a son, and then another son. Rents were collected, taxes paid. Eventually the edge of town moved nearer and the taxes grew with the supposed value of the place.
Finally, the last inheritor decided to sell. There were bidders of different kinds. Developers wanted to build a neighborhood, the local housing market booming. Another company approached, wanting to buy the top soil—stripping it off to sift and sort into bags, selling off the accumulation of millennia on aisle 5 of the big box garden center. The question this son of a daughter of a son who had been handed this place was what to do with his inheritance?
I heard this story recently, at least the end of it. Top soil or developer? The uncle of a friend chose the developer. Its the tragic story of so much land, the wealth of generations ending up in an extraction of value. What to do with our inheritance is among the most important questions to answer, and it is at the heart of our Gospel for this Sunday.
This is the famous story of Jesus and the rich young man. It is an encounter of deep resonance and confusion. Many of us rightly worry that we might be closer to the young man than the peasant band following after Jesus. If we are of even average means in the highly industrialized nations of the world, then we are owners of far more than most people now or in generations past. If we listen to this Gospel carefully, however, we will find good news for all of us, no matter our economic status. It is good news that we will have to take action to receive.
Our first clue to understanding this Gospel reading comes in the question posed by the rich young man: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” In this question, the young man reveals that he takes abundant life without boundary as a possession that he can inherit. Inheritance, after all, was almost certainly the source of his wealth. In the first century, that wealth most likely meant land on which tenant farmers lived and paid rent. The acquisition of such lands was accumulation through the hardships of others. Because of debts, often incurred through the heavy taxation of the Romans, generational owners of land would have to sell it. This would provide a momentary means of relief, but over the long run it took away the sustained livelihood and independence the land provided. To sell one’s land was a desperate measure, often enough followed by selling oneself and ones children into slavery. It was this kind of wealth that the rich young man possessed.
When Jesus tells this young man that in order to join in God’s reign he must sell his lands and redistribute the proceeds to the poor, Jesus is fulfilling a key aspect of his mission. As we hear in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus came to proclaim good news to the poor, to announce the year of the Lord’s favor. This is a proclamation of Jubilee—a time when property was to return to its original owner and slaves were to be freed. Jesus is inviting this young man to join in the joyful reality of God’s liberating reign.
The moment of decision the rich young man is faced with is one that faces all of us. We are all the inheritors of realities that we did not create. This young man did not have taken advantage of the difficulties of his neighbors, he tells Jesus that he has wronged no one in his business transactions. In the same way, we are the inheritors of realities that we did not create. None of us began the ecological catastrophe now bearing down upon us with such brutal force. None of us created the systems of racial inequality that continues to plague every aspect of our world. But these are our inheritances, and those of us who are white, who are in the middle class and above, are the beneficiaries of these realities. It is hard to say no to the world they have given us, it is hard not to sell the top soil and pocket the cash. It is difficult not to revel in the abundance of our material economy even as it bring ecological destruction. Jesus calls the rich young man to follow him by letting go of his inheritance and joining a new economy, and that call echoes down to us.
What is this new economy? Jesus describes it in his answer to Peter, and its truth is echoed in the Sermon on the Plain, the Sermon on the Mount, and many other teachings of Jesus. The economy of God’s reign is a place of participation, not possession. We gain more than what we let go of because we become participants in that wider reality of God’s great family. The kingdom of God is a place of commons, not control.
So how do we begin to live into that reality? How do we deal with the inheritances we have been given? Those are the questions of a lifetime of discipleship, but we can begin with some simple steps. The first is to begin to live into a use economy, what my friend Evan calls the “two coats principle.” We should, in other words, seek to own only what we regularly use. Everything else we should give to those who can use it now. There are no storage units in the kingdom of God.
A second way to live into the reality of God’s economy of participation rather than possession is to foster communities of common life. Once upon a time rural communities had active granges where farm equipment and other resources were available for community use. Churches can fill this gap, as can some neighborly assistance. We don’t all need to own lawn mowers, chain saws, weed eaters, and much else that we need only occasionally. Many people are willing to share these things if needed, but we simply don’t know one another well enough to ask. Again, churches could have a role to play in creating a resource library list among their members.
Finally, like the rich young man we are the inheritors of wealth that was acquired through active harm. We must do what we can to repair the damage of that harm. How to do that is a difficult question, but I think the first step is stopping all investments in companies that perpetuate the exploitation of people and our planet. I know of many well meaning institutions that have created funds for reparations without looking at their current portfolios. If we have retirement funds or endowments we need to know where they are invested. Groups like Just Money Advisors are helpful guides for working through these realities.
Finally, and perhaps best of all, I think the work of Slow Money offers a model for using our financial wealth for building up our ecological wealth. Slow Money will never sell top soil, instead they invest in farms and enterprises that work to save the soil and build it. Their interest isn’t in personal gain for their investors, but is instead aimed at building up the commonwealth of local communities.
Most of us stand with the rich young man, hearing Jesus’ call to give up our possessions so that we can participate in God’s reign of Jubilee. The question, the ongoing struggle for all of us, is how we will answer that invitation. I hope, for my part, that I will not turn away in sadness at my inability to join this new reality. I hope that I will be with Peter and those other disciples who gained a new community of abundance for all they gave up for the sake of following Jesus into God’s kingdom.
The church I attended in the 1990s had a "Yellow Pages" directory of all sorts of goods and services people we willing to share with each other from wheelbarrows to help with mending. Currently, my neighbourhood has a "Library of Things" that people can become members of and sign out all sorts of things from tools to camping equipment. (I recognize this is just a small part of the Jubilee vision you are naming!)