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This time of year we are encouraged to spend money on holiday gifts. And every year someone comments about how commercial the generic winter holiday season has become. And the we are reminded to remember the “reason for the season.” I suppose if you went to the “holy land” you could escape from all this consumerism, right?

Not so fast, pilgrim. I understand that “between the Wailing Wall and the Dome of the Rock and along the Via Dolorosa, there are hundreds of souvenir stands where Christian, Jewish and Muslim hucksters peddle bottled holy water, aluminum crucifixes and 3-D pictures of Jesus that turn into Mary when you shift them back and forth. You can buy a cheap T-shirt that says, ‘My friend walked the Stations of the Cross, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.’

“At the Jordan River, not far from where John the Baptist baptized Jesus, steps lead into the muddy water where mass baptisms are held for tourists. One disillusioned visitor published a journal about her experience on a recent tour. She described it this way: ‘The overall feel of the place reminded me of Las Vegas wedding chapels.’” (Shoppers turn on greed for holidays, http://www.abqtrib.com/archives/business04/111504_business_jdcol.shtml)

All world religions point to greed as the cause of much of the rest of humanity’s problems. Buddhism talks about the “hungry ghosts, plagued by insatiable greed, which could swallow the universe and still be hungry and thirsty.”

Jesus talks about greed and the love of money more than just about any other worldly topic. Thomas Merton tells of the monk Serapion who tried to avoid any hint of greed by selling his New Testament and giving the money to the hungry, saying, ‘I sold the book that told me to sell all I had to give to the poor.’

The first deadly sin we covered last month– gluttony, might be an issue for you or it might not. But it is much harder to escape greed. It is pervasive, entrenched, and like the cockroach, thrives in the most unusual environments.

The pursuit of wealth by itself is not necessarily greedy, but there are boundary lines. The reason for acquiring wealth and the way one acquires it leads to your particular point on the continuum between greed and generosity. Make no mistake. This continuum is not something you can avoid.

You cannot be simultaneously non-generous and non-greedy. Your checkbook and credit card statements would give you away if they were exposed. This is one reason I suppose we so jealously guard our spending habits.

All societies, not just capitalistic ones, require a certain amount of pursuit of wealth. For one thing, it is easier than having to kill your own food every day.

Some people want to get rich to buy “the good life”– special food, houses, vacations, or lovers. Others want the prestige granted to the rich. Still others simply enjoy the chase, like they enjoy a good Monopoly game. Some folks want wealth because they are envious and feel less “successful” than they want to. Sometimes it is pressure from a spouse.

Another reason is worry about the future. What if they become sick or old or feeble– who will provide for them? This is a reasonable thing to think about. But it becomes unreasonable when we refuse to be generous in the present.

If we’re not careful, we can use our own children as excuses– well, we need more money for their vacations, their cars, their college degrees, their eventual house down payments, our grandchildren’s trust funds, and on and on and on. That’s all a lot of hooey. There is no end to rationalizations if you want to find them.

So the reasons for greed are that: our consumer culture encourages it; we want the “good life” we like the prestige, we enjoy the chase, we may feel envious of others who have more, we might get pressure from a spouse, we worry about our own future, we use our children to justify hoarding our money, and then there is one of greed’s most clever disguises: thrift or stinginess.

Stinginess is another form of greed, and one we who descend from the Puritan tradition can easily fall prey to. Last summer, my wife reminded me we hadn’t taken an actual vacation in the 10 years of our marriage. We had even missed our honeymoon because we went straight from our wedding to our church internship sites.

I pointed out that we went to the UU General Assembly every year, but she correctly reminded me that this was a lot of work.

I had a hard time at first justifying spending a thousand bucks on a week’s vacation– what would there be at the end of it? But the reality is, we really needed to get away– away from our house, away from our kids, and spend some quality time together. You know, at least once every 10 years, if only for the sake of your marriage.

So greed isn’t always about trying to get more money. Sometimes greed is about not spending money, about not being generous.

Are there good reasons for acquiring wealth? Yes: to experience the pleasure of being generous. The poor woman and rich woman alike can be generous, but it is easier for the rich woman who can afford much grander gestures.

I’m not so sure that we should condemn ourselves to poverty, selling even the bible that tells us to give everything away. And for the vast majority of us who don’t take a vow of poverty– well, we have to be that much more careful about avoiding greed.

We have to be careful that we don’t fall into the trap of only talking about the greed of the rich or only of corporate greed or always of someone else. The stories of flagrant excess and the stupidity of thieves and robbers whether white collar or blue are legendary

The path to spiritual depth is not always so fun: sometimes it is hard work, and you and I are challenged. You and I are challenged to pay attention to our own greed, and know that the remedy, the cure, is charity, and generosity. Charity to strangers, generosity to those nearby. And of course, here at Eliot Chapel, your charity is tax-deductible. That eases the burden, but only a little.

Let’s face it: a certain amount of wealth is necessary unless you plan to live in the woods. But how much is too much? Do you feel good or do you feel guilty about how generous you are? TV tells us a single story.

And the story is always the same. The advertisements say the only gifts are the ones you can buy. And you ought to start with yourself first. And we are enticed to be anxious about what we’ll pick.

And the constant push to be greedy creates anxiety, fear, and a culture of scarcity. It makes grown men and women fight each other for the last Tickle-me-Elmo left in the store.

This kind of greed– since it is boundless– spills over into an attitude that divides people more or less permanently.

So, we get arms races, indifference to the poor, environmental racism, and the recognition that we are expected to not care for anyone but ourselves or our tribe. The American dream has shifted from simple home ownership to empire building and a constant stream of info-mercials.

I go to the YMCA most days, late in the afternoon, and while you’re whiling away the miles under your feet there, the big TV screens are going. It is hard not to look.

In the last month or so though, I have noticed a phenomenon on one of the women’s shows: Oprah. A couple months ago, she gave everyone in her audience (almost all women), a brand new Pontiac G-Six. She gave away 276 of these cars. The winners have to come up with somewhere between 3 and $7,000 to pay for the taxes on this $28,000 car, but still.

Since she’s a big star, she didn’t actually have to pay for the cars, but everyone on that show was practically peeing in their pants. Tears streaming down their faces, some of them were jumping up and down with clenched hands. They were laughing and crying, and some were near hysterics. It was as if a war was over, or their loved one had miraculously been found alive after being presumed dead. (Oprah car winners hit with hefty tax September 22, 2004, 7:05 PM EDT NEW YORK CNN/Money).

All this over a car? What if they’d just found the money in a paper bag in the street? Would they have the same reaction?

A couple weeks ago Oprah was celebrating teachers. And the whole audience was women teachers, mostly elementary school, not exactly a well-paid profession.

And the whole show was her listing what these lucky teachers had won: a long weekend at a trendy spa, clothing, bags to pack it in, cameras to snap pictures with. And on and on. Every couple of minutes– wait!– there’s more!

Every time she announced something pricey, all the audience members went crazy– women from 20s thru 40s jumped up and down, screaming, tossing their carefully combed hair all around, screaming with pleasure, some crying at getting all this loot. It was as if their death sentence had been commuted. How come?

I am still struck by the emotion all those women experienced so thoroughly in public. It was as if those women had finally been accepted and blessed by– well by– God.

Where and when have we felt so thoroughly affirmed? So absolutely accepted? So completely sanctified? Has there been a time in your life when you broke down with tears of joy & relief?

For me, it was 1991. I was alive, and physically unhurt. Me and 100 other people had been through hell about 2000 feet above and 3 miles back from the runway. I had gotten off the airplane in Norfolk, Virginia. This was a flight where everyone, including me, thought we would not make it, that the plane and all the souls on board would crash and burn and die from the plane’s encounter with a spring thunderstorm.

On that day in May 1991, I had enough. I had had enough of my previous life, my previous job, and my life as I knew it was over. I also had enough in another sense. After picking up my rental car keys, and heading out to the parking lot near field, I noticed the smell, the air thick with honeysuckle. I noticed the sun shining down, making my face warm, so bright now that the storm was over that it made me tilt my head toward the sun and close my eyes.

My expectations about what “enough” was had been radically altered by an experience. Not by reasoning, not by education, not by intellectual pursuit, but by a life-altering brush with Death.

Tears came down in appreciation. I was alive. I had enough. I was empty and full at the same time: empty of whatever I thought were my problems, and full of just being in that moment with the sunshine and the honeysuckle and the car keys in my hand. I had enough.

Most of the time even now, I feel like I have enough. What about you? Do you feel you have enough?

For many people, issues of money are much more sensitive and important than issues of religion or sexuality.

Once upon a time, I had just finished preaching a canvass sermon in Connecticut. One of my parishioners came up to me afterward, talking about how she grew up in the depression amid scarcity. She was an old woman now, retired, her husband dead and gone. So even though she was financially comfortable, she wouldn’t pledge much– despite my wonderful canvass sermon– because, you know– who knows? She might get hospitalized and need every cent. Who knows what could happen?

And I suppose if she had $200,000, it would be pretty easy to say, yes, if you’re retired and that’s your nest egg in your house and investments, maybe you don’t have much money– compared to your neighbors.

You know, if she moved to Mexico, she’d be a queen in a palace for the rest of her days, but not in western Connecticut. But what if she had 2 million or 20 or 200 million? Would she say the same thing? Where do you draw the line between being thrifty & prudent versus being greedy?

Another parishioner, very rich due to a family trust fund, had never worked a day in his life. He said he couldn’t pledge well because people knew him as rich, and he had a certain standard of living to maintain because of it, and see– he was doing this for other people. And he almost sounded convincing. I think he was trying to convince himself right there.

At Eliot Chapel, we ask our members and friends to give of their time, talent, and treasure. People don’t usually feel guilty if they don’t have enough time.

For talent, you either play the violin or you don’t. People don’t feel guilty about not playing the violin, it’s just a fact of their personality: they sing or not, they play the banjo or not.

But enough people play enough instruments that they get to play here and we get to hear all kinds of wonderful people share their talent with us via prelude and interlude on Sunday morning. We generally don’t pay them, but they get a good sized appreciative audience and we get to appreciate them: a win-win situation.

People don’t feel guilty about not giving of their time or talent. But people do feel guilty about not giving up their treasure– their money to church. As well they should! Remember most Unitarians give away to charity just nine-tenths of one percent of their income.

I was unaware of my own expectations about money until my parents divorced. I was unexpectedly tossed out of the house– an adult at 18, no house, no college, no married parents. What a rip-off! I didn’t pick this. I didn’t see it coming. I felt abandoned.

I ended up living on roof tops in Manhattan. I vowed not to end up like that again. I didn’t cast ashore on some foreign land, determined to become wildly wealthy. I kept going with my life as it was but I vowed never again to be at someone else’s mercy in that same way. I was not going to let anyone get too close.

If I’d been a different person, I might have focused on ambition, greed, dominance. I could have become jaded in the way only 22 year olds can, and dedicated my life to the greedy pursuit of riches.

At the time, I felt robbed that my father paid for my siblings to go to college but not for me– I had to take out student loans. I was in the intellectually precarious position of disdaining wealth while wanting to be rich “enough.” And rich enough “someday” without my having to work at it too hard right in the here and now.

Unfortunately, I knew instinctively that this is not where satisfaction lay. I was unconvinced that being rich and unhappy was better than being poor and unhappy.

I thought I had this all figured out. Then, a month ago, after my mother’s death, I received an inheritance– two checks totaling over $25,000. I figure a third of that will go to the government– federal and state taxes. That leaves about $16,000 for me. More than a cup of coffee, not enough to pay off the mortgage.

My little inheritance has made me think. I have to think now about greed and generosity. I will give 10% of it– $1600 before the end of the year, but year end approaches quickly. And while I look forward to giving it away, I don’t look forward to the beneficiary looking my way next year, because God forbid any more inheritances for a while. And you know, if I give $1600 extra to my seminary, what will they ask me for next year?

Greed is about never having enough– enough money in particular. Okay, what is enough? Greed is about never being satisfied. Greed can produce a vicious cycle: the more you own the more you have to worry about. The more you have the more you want, you are producing what psychologists call a conditioned response: “Just as dogs can be conditioned to salivate at the sound of a bell which had once signaled food but no longer does, the avaricious person is aroused by money even as it accumulates unused.”

Greed leads to more unhappiness. It’s been found that the happiest people are those who help others rather than those who focus on helping themselves (Rimland, The Altruism Paradox).

Further, the richer we become, the more difficult it is to understand the sufferings of the poor. The Ango-Irish cleric & satirist, Jonathon Swift observed, “nothing is so hard for those who abound in riches as to conceive how others can be in want.”

We live in a country where people would rather spend money on lottery tickets than pay to modernize school buildings.

And yet we also live in a country that has people like you in it. People who freely give of their time and talent to make a church, to leave something behind for others to find. Thank you for your generosity, to me, to your co-religionists at Eliot and to the strangers who become friends in a steady stream

We live in a country that produced Ted Turner. He owns some cable and media companies and he pledged 1 billion dollars of his fortune to the United Nations. Can you imagine that kind of generosity? He has said:

I've been learning how to give. It's something you have to keep working on, because people like money the way they do their homes and their dogs.

I hear you Ted, I hear you. Amen.

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