One Saturday morning during my second year in seminary I sat down at the computer to check our bank balance.  When I logged into the account I saw that the numbers of the checking account were red.  In my naiveté I thought the website had made some artistic changes to the web layout.  I thought, “Why would they color our balance red.  That would suggest that we were . . . overdrawn.”  This was especially troubling because the rent check had not yet cleared.  We were out of money, and it was only going to get worse.  I felt nauseous.  I felt like a loser.  I felt like a failure.  I called my parents and Christie called hers.  I had rehearsed what I was going to say, how I was going to ask for help.  Thankfully they were able to help us get back on track, but that feeling of worthlessness stayed with me.  That’s the blessing and the curse of money: value.  Money provides a value to our homes, our investments, our lives.   Fundamentally the parable of the father’s two sons is a story about value, and subversively it is not money which provides it.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is the most familiar story with the most ambiguous beginning: A man had two sons.  Of course, the younger son demands his inheritance from his father while his father is still alive, which in a way is the son telling his father to “drop dead.”  His father acquiesces to his son’s request and gives him some monetary value of his inheritance.  The younger is more or less an impulse buyer.  Some days I dread bringing my daughters to the grocery store.  Now they love helping push the cart and pick out cereal, and all goes well until we are ready to check out because there we are, waiting in line with nothing to do except look at all the candy and toys and knick-knacks which are just begging to be put in the cart.  Those who invented grocery stores, or any store for that matter, know us well.  They know that if we are left to wait, our shopping list gets put away, our eyes wander and “oh, look, magazines.  Let’s see what happening in the world.  Oh, look, a candy bar, well I’m kind of hungry and it would be nice to eat something on the way home.  Oh, look, batteries, well, they’re not on my list, but surely we need batteries (by the way, one day when I become Bishop of the world, the first thing I’m going to do is standardize all children’s toys to take the same battery.  I don’t care if I have to put fifty watch batteries into the Wii remote, at least I only have to buy one kind).”  Adam Hamilton says in his book, “Enough,” is that impulse buying is the number one money waster.  His advice to the impulse buyer in all of us is, well, to wait.  I’m assuming that you don’t add impulse buys to your shopping list.  By definition they are unplanned.  I’m also assuming that if you say to yourself, “I know that Snickers looks good, but I’ll wait and pick one up tomorrow,” that you will forget about it.  The younger son wants his inheritance, and he wants it now; however truth of the story goes beyond the simple wisdom of impulse avoidance.

My grandmother, bless her heart—those of you are not originally from the south or who have spent little time here, when we say “bless her heart,” it means that we are about to throw them under the bus.  It’s like when I was speaking at the Goodson Chapel at Duke Divinity School several years ago and someone told me, “For a youth director from Baton Rouge, you really spoke well.”  My grandmother, bless her heart, saves everything.  She is the opposite of an impulse buyer.  She is always saving for a rainy day, and it’s been raining for some time now, but no, she is saving her money.  Now, of course, saving is good.  Saving is wise, but at some point not using the wealth you have accumulated means that money actually has no value at all.  So at both ends of the spectrum, wasting money on impulse purchases and holding onto money and never doing anything with it, means that money has lost its value.  The younger brother in the parable is like my daughters at the check out line—I want it and I want it now.  The older brother is like my grandmother in the sense that he is missing the value of what he has.  Yes the story is about money, but more fundamentally, the parable is about value.

The younger brother notices his father’s value, but the value is misplaced.  He wants his future wealth now, but he doesn’t invest it or give it to the local synagogue.  He wastes it on immediate pleasure.  When he checks his bank balance he notices that the numbers are red, so he hires himself out to a pig farmer, which is deplorable to a good Jew.  While he is with the pigs he “comes to himself,” and realizes he needs to get in touch with dad for help.  On his way home he rehearses what he is going to say to his father.   He says to himself, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer WORTHY to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”  He no longer felt worthy.  He thought he had lost his value, and isn’t that the real danger of money.  Yes, money provides value, but today we inappropriately view the money someone pays us for our time as our personal value.

In a 2010 CNN Money article, Steve Jobs’ net worth was reported to be 5.5 billion dollars. His value was billions of dollars.  Do you think his family values him in this way?  Upon his passing I haven’t yet found an article which values Steve Jobs in terms of dollars and sense.  These recent articles value him in terms of his contribution to innovation and leadership and the way in which he changed how people across the globe communicate.  I haven’t yet been asked, when officiating a funeral, to be sure that I communicate the value of someone’s portfolio.  We do have a keen awareness that our value is not attached to our paycheck, but unfortunately we can recognize this far later than we should.

When the younger son approaches his father’s house his dad ran out to meet him.  The younger son begins his well rehearsed speech, “Father, I have sinned against you.  I am not worthy to be called your son, treat me . . . “ but his father interrupts saying, “Quickly, bring out a robe and a ring and sandals and kill the fatted calf.  My son was dead, but he is now alive.”  In other words, “You think you have lost your value as my son?  No.  Being with me is where your true value lies.  Thank you for coming home.”

God does not look at us as line items.  We are children of God.  As value can be money’s curse, it is also its greatest blessing.  Our money, our wealth has the power to communicate our value as children of God.  How do we allow our money to show our value as God’s children?  You see, the older son was also missing the point.  He was working day in and day out but also failed to see the value of his relationship with his father.  The older son was angry when the younger son was welcomed because, in his mind, the younger son had in fact lost his value.  As an aside—grace is God’s greatest blessing when it is poured out upon us, but it is the toughest pill in all of Christendom to swallow when it is given to someone whom we think is less than worthy.”  The Father saw his anger and says to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we must celebrate and rejoice because this brother of yours was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found.”  You see, he has come back to life because he is now with his father.  This parable is not about the value of money.  It is about how God values us.  It is about how life is not wealth; rather life is living in communion with God.  How is our money, the tool with which we assign value, how is our money communicating this ultimate value.

Money is so personal.  As I said earlier, running out haunts me, but it’s because it’s so attached to me instead of being a channel through which I honor God.  So, I guess what I’m saying is that this is a sermon I am preaching to me, and I pray that it is fruitful for you as well.  As we prepare for Commitment Sunday, the day on which we present our pledge to do the work of God, let us be mindful of value.  Over the next few weeks gather with your family and friends.  Talk about value, how much God values you and how we can, through our gifts, value the work that God is calling us to accomplish.  In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

One Saturday morning during my second year in seminary I sat down at the computer to check our bank balance.  When I logged into the account I saw that the numbers of the checking account were red.  In my naiveté I thought the website had made some artistic changes to the web layout.  I thought, “Why would they color our balance red.  That would suggest that we were . . . overdrawn.”  This was especially troubling because the rent check had not yet cleared.  We were out of money, and it was only going to get worse.  I felt nauseous.  I felt like a loser.  I felt like a failure.  I called my parents and Christie called hers.  I had rehearsed what I was going to say, how I was going to ask for help.  Thankfully they were able to help us get back on track, but that feeling of worthlessness stayed with me.  That’s the blessing and the curse of money: value.  Money provides a value to our homes, our investments, our lives.   Fundamentally the parable of the father’s two sons is a story about value, and subversively it is not money which provides it.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is the most familiar story with the most ambiguous beginning: A man had two sons.  Of course, the younger son demands his inheritance from his father while his father is still alive, which in a way is the son telling his father to “drop dead.”  His father acquiesces to his son’s request and gives him some monetary value of his inheritance.  The younger is more or less an impulse buyer.  Some days I dread bringing my daughters to the grocery store.  Now they love helping push the cart and pick out cereal, and all goes well until we are ready to check out because there we are, waiting in line with nothing to do except look at all the candy and toys and knick-knacks which are just begging to be put in the cart.  Those who invented grocery stores, or any store for that matter, know us well.  They know that if we are left to wait, our shopping list gets put away, our eyes wander and “oh, look, magazines.  Let’s see what happening in the world.  Oh, look, a candy bar, well I’m kind of hungry and it would be nice to eat something on the way home.  Oh, look, batteries, well, they’re not on my list, but surely we need batteries (by the way, one day when I become Bishop of the world, the first thing I’m going to do is standardize all children’s toys to take the same battery.  I don’t care if I have to put fifty watch batteries into the Wii remote, at least I only have to buy one kind).”  Adam Hamilton says in his book, “Enough,” is that impulse buying is the number one money waster.  His advice to the impulse buyer in all of us is, well, to wait.  I’m assuming that you don’t add impulse buys to your shopping list.  By definition they are unplanned.  I’m also assuming that if you say to yourself, “I know that Snickers looks good, but I’ll wait and pick one up tomorrow,” that you will forget about it.  The younger son wants his inheritance, and he wants it now; however truth of the story goes beyond the simple wisdom of impulse avoidance.

My grandmother, bless her heart—those of you are not originally from the south or who have spent little time here, when we say “bless her heart,” it means that we are about to throw them under the bus.  It’s like when I was speaking at the Goodson Chapel at Duke Divinity School several years ago and someone told me, “For a youth director from Baton Rouge, you really spoke well.”  My grandmother, bless her heart, saves everything.  She is the opposite of an impulse buyer.  She is always saving for a rainy day, and it’s been raining for some time now, but no, she is saving her money.  Now, of course, saving is good.  Saving is wise, but at some point not using the wealth you have accumulated means that money actually has no value at all.  So at both ends of the spectrum, wasting money on impulse purchases and holding onto money and never doing anything with it, means that money has lost its value.  The younger brother in the parable is like my daughters at the check out line—I want it and I want it now.  The older brother is like my grandmother in the sense that he is missing the value of what he has.  Yes the story is about money, but more fundamentally, the parable is about value.

The younger brother notices his father’s value, but the value is misplaced.  He wants his future wealth now, but he doesn’t invest it or give it to the local synagogue.  He wastes it on immediate pleasure.  When he checks his bank balance he notices that the numbers are red, so he hires himself out to a pig farmer, which is deplorable to a good Jew.  While he is with the pigs he “comes to himself,” and realizes he needs to get in touch with dad for help.  On his way home he rehearses what he is going to say to his father.   He says to himself, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer WORTHY to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”  He no longer felt worthy.  He thought he had lost his value, and isn’t that the real danger of money.  Yes, money provides value, but today we inappropriately view the money someone pays us for our time as our personal value.

In a 2010 CNN Money article, Steve Jobs’ net worth was reported to be 5.5 billion dollars. His value was billions of dollars.  Do you think his family values him in this way?  Upon his passing I haven’t yet found an article which values Steve Jobs in terms of dollars and sense.  These recent articles value him in terms of his contribution to innovation and leadership and the way in which he changed how people across the globe communicate.  I haven’t yet been asked, when officiating a funeral, to be sure that I communicate the value of someone’s portfolio.  We do have a keen awareness that our value is not attached to our paycheck, but unfortunately we can recognize this far later than we should.

When the younger son approaches his father’s house his dad ran out to meet him.  The younger son begins his well rehearsed speech, “Father, I have sinned against you.  I am not worthy to be called your son, treat me . . . “ but his father interrupts saying, “Quickly, bring out a robe and a ring and sandals and kill the fatted calf.  My son was dead, but he is now alive.”  In other words, “You think you have lost your value as my son?  No.  Being with me is where your true value lies.  Thank you for coming home.”

God does not look at us as line items.  We are children of God.  As value can be money’s curse, it is also its greatest blessing.  Our money, our wealth has the power to communicate our value as children of God.  How do we allow our money to show our value as God’s children?  You see, the older son was also missing the point.  He was working day in and day out but also failed to see the value of his relationship with his father.  The older son was angry when the younger son was welcomed because, in his mind, the younger son had in fact lost his value.  As an aside—grace is God’s greatest blessing when it is poured out upon us, but it is the toughest pill in all of Christendom to swallow when it is given to someone whom we think is less than worthy.”  The Father saw his anger and says to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we must celebrate and rejoice because this brother of yours was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found.”  You see, he has come back to life because he is now with his father.  This parable is not about the value of money.  It is about how God values us.  It is about how life is not wealth; rather life is living in communion with God.  How is our money, the tool with which we assign value, how is our money communicating this ultimate value.

Money is so personal.  As I said earlier, running out haunts me, but it’s because it’s so attached to me instead of being a channel through which I honor God.  So, I guess what I’m saying is that this is a sermon I am preaching to me, and I pray that it is fruitful for you as well.  As we prepare for Commitment Sunday, the day on which we present our pledge to do the work of God, let us be mindful of value.  Over the next few weeks gather with your family and friends.  Talk about value, how much God values you and how we can, through our gifts, value the work that God is calling us to accomplish.  In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.