A Life Worth Living
a sermon based on Luke 16:19-31 and 1 Timothy 6:6-19
by Rev. Rick Thompson
Kenneth Lay was a
multi-millionaire who rose to the position of CEO of a powerful energy company,
owned several fabulous homes, and had the ear of the President. Lay amassed a
fortune before he died—but it was at the expense of those who counted on their
ENRON pension to provide them a comfortable retirement. At the time of Lay’s
sudden death, he was under indictment for fraud and other white-collar crimes.
Kenneth Lay died in disgrace.
Albert Schweitzer had a medical
degree and had published a book which, over 100 years later, is still considered
a classic in New Testament studies. In addition to that, Schweitzer was an
accomplished organist. He was already receiving widespread acclaim when,
unexpectedly, he gave up his security and certain financial success to go to
Africa in service to the poor and medically needy. He spent the rest of his
life there. Before he died, Schweitzer was awarded a Nobel Peace Prize for his
service to humanity.
Which one would you say lived a
life worth living? How many of you would agree it was Albert Schweitzer?
Now, let’s get more to the point.
We could discuss all day the lives of Kenneth Lay and Albert Schweitzer, but
where would that get us in the end?
Isn’t there a more crucial
question? Isn’t this the question posed by our readings today, and
especially that letter to Timothy, where Paul urges his young associate to live
“the life that really is life?” Isn’t the question before us this one: “Would
you like to live a life worth living?”
Well, would you?
I would! And if you’d like
to also, then I suggest we pay some attention to the words we’ve heard in
Scripture.
And what our Scripture readings
today teach us is that the life worth living is not a life of
self-indulgence, but a life lived with God, a life lived in God for
others.
The ancient Christian leader
Tertullian had some blunt words to say about what makes life worth living. Are
you ready for this? “He who lives only to benefit himself confers on the world
a benefit when he dies.” That’s what Tertullian said. It’s a warning, isn’t
it—a stark warning against living only for oneself, a warning against
self-indulgent living, without regard for the needs and well-being of others.
Tertullian said that the world is better off when one who lives selfishly is
dead and gone.
Now I don’t know about you, but
that’s not what I want said about me when I’m dead and gone! I
don’t ever expect to be in the same league as Albert Schweitzer, but I do
hope that people will be able to say, when I’ve breathed my last, “He lived a
life worth living. The world’s a better place because Rick Thompson spent time
in it.” I hope that’s what people will be able to honestly say about me.
And my only hope, if that’s my
goal, is to live my life in Christ.
That’s what I read, at least, when
I read today’s second reading.
“Take hold of the eternal life, to
which you were called and for which you made the good confession…”—that’s what
we hear there.
Called to eternal life. Called to
life in Christ. That’s God’s promise, and that’s God’s claim on us. Do
you suppose that might have something to do with living a life worth living?
I think so!
Who has created this world and provided
for the well-being of us and all creatures? It’s God in Christ—that’s who!
Who has entered into our humanity,
taken upon himself our sin, and died a shameful death in our place? It’s God in
Christ—that’s who!
Who has risen up from death,
destroying death’s power, releasing eternal life into all creation and sharing
his victory with us? It’s God in Christ—that’s who!
And who will come again, as we’re
reminded in the reading, to bring God’s eternal rule of peace and justice and
wholeness? It’s God in Christ—that’s who!
And what can we say of this
Christ? We read it in our letter: “He is King of kings and Lord of lords…he
alone has immortality and dwells in unapproachable light…to him be honor and
eternal dominion. Amen!”
This is the one who calls
us into an eternal relationship with God. This is the one who calls us
to live a life worth living—and has, himself, lived such a life in abundance!
And did you notice something about Jesus? He gave, didn’t he. He gave and gave
and gave, until his life was poured out, and he took his life up again in
resurrection, and he keeps on giving and giving!
And in response, we’re urged,
“Fight the good fight of faith!”
Why? So we can stay joined to
Christ—the one in whom God gives us abundant and eternal life! As tough as it
is to follow Jesus—he does ask us to make some difficult choices, to take some
risks, after all—it’s worth it, isn’t it? Isn’t life in Christ a life
worth living? Knowing we belong to God? Knowing the joy of following God?
Knowing the promise that we’ll be with God for eternity? Doesn’t that make the
fight of faith a fight worthy fighting?
And it is a fight, isn’t
it! It certainly was for Jesus! He battled Satan. He battled with the
religious leaders. He battled the fickleness and unfaithfulness of his chosen
disciples. He struggled to accept his own impending death. For Jesus, his life
on earth was a fight—a fight he undertook with absolute faith in his heavenly
Father—and it was a fight he won!
And wouldn’t we say his life—the
life of Jesus—was a life worth living?
So should it be any surprise that
life in Christ is described as a “fight” for us? When we’re surrounded by
constant temptation, seduced by wealth and power, constantly encouraged to
consume and possess, again and again told that we must indulge ourselves and
satisfy our desires, how easy can we expect it to be to follow a Christ who gave
and gave and gave? How easy can we expect it to be to live a life worth living?
You know, there’s a segment of
American Christianity that appeals to our desire to have an easy life, to think
that God exists primarily to fulfill our wishes, to make us comfortable and
wealthy. Some call it “The Prosperity Gospel.” One of the preachers of this
message, Joel Osteen, has written a best-seller entitled Your Best Life Now.
No wonder it’s a best-seller; Osteen teaches that God stands ready to
fulfill our personal dreams, to fill our garages with expensive vehicles, to
fill our cupboards and our bank accounts, to fill us with the things of this
world.
Now, I have to ask, “Is that
really what makes life worth living?” Isn’t that the attitude that’s
critized in all of today’s readings—by the prophet Amos, who tries to
get the attention of those living self-indulgent lives while there’s decay all
around; by the Psalmist, who reminds us of God’s special care for the poor and
oppressed; by the second reading, where we hear that “the love of money is the
root of all evil” and are urged to live lives of contentment; by the gospel
reading, where Jesus tells a story in which the privileged one, who ignores the
needs of the poor at his doorstep, pays an eternal price, and the poor man,
Lazarus—whose name means “God helps”—is rewarded with eternal life? Doesn’t God
seem to be saying here, loudly and clearly, that a life worth living has
nothing to do with how wealthy one is and everything to do with one’s
relationship to God?
And haven’t we already been
reminded that God is One who gives…and gives…and gives…and gives…and gives?
Isn’t it in our giving, our
sharing, our serving—our following Christ—that we most fulfill our purpose on
earth? Isn’t that what makes life worth living—to be joined to Christ,
and to participate in his pouring out of life for the sake of the world?
Andrew Carnegie—the one whom many
libraries and schools are named after—discovered that giving makes life worth
living. He amassed a huge fortune for his time--$400 million dollars—and he
gave 99.5% of it away. Yes, he still had a lot to live on—but Carnegie knew
that it was giving, not having that made life worth living!
I get a small taste of that when
I give. I enjoy my giving to the church. And I especially
find joy in the occasional gifts I share with our church’s World Hunger Appeal.
I’ve been blessed, and it’s a blessing to be able to share some of my blessings
with “Lazarus”—the poor outside my door, the poor across the world.
Lazarus—“God helps”—and, sometimes, that help comes from me, and you, and the
people of God, as God uses our hands to do God’s good and saving work.
Giving. Giving of myself, and
giving of my substance. Like God gives—again, and again, and again. Isn’t that
what makes life worth living? Knowing abundant life in Christ, and sharing it
with others—in word, and in deed—nothing makes me more content.
Yes, I think life is worth
living. I think life is worth living when it’s lived in Jesus Christ.
I invite you to think so too—and
live a life worth living!
AMEN.