August 1, 2010
Pentecost 10, Proper 13, Year C
Luke 12:13-21; Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23
Raise your hand if you know what these are? How many of you have them? Anybody wearing them right now? Well, for those of you who don’t know, these are Silly Bandz. (That’s bandz with a “z”, mind you.) These rubber-band-like plastic bracelets come in all kinds of shapes – animals, princesses, dinosaurs, flowers, food - even letters. You can stretch them out, but they always, rather disturbingly, return back to their shape. And they seem to be everywhere.
One day I was in Bed Bath and Beyond with my kids and Sophie noticed a huge bin of silly bands near the register. She really wanted some. She said that almost all the kids in her class had them. They would wear a bunch of them and trade them during recess. We’d recently started her on an allowance and so I told her she could use her own money to buy some if she wanted to. So she proudly came home with a pack of 24 princess-themed Silly Bandz (for $2.99 plus tax). Of course, as soon as her little brother saw how excited she was about them, he wanted to have some too. At first, even though she had dozens, she refused to give him even one and he began to cry. But then, under some parental duress, she agreed to sell him one-third of them. (Who says the market economy isn’t alive and well?) They put them all on their arms, they organized them by color, they counted and recounted and traded them. And then they began to talk about how they could get more.
All this excitement and turmoil inspired me to try talking to the kids about fads. I told them how often people start doing something because other people are doing it, or wanting something because other people have it. Sometimes whatever it is is pretty silly and makes no sense, but people do it anyway because everyone else is doing it. I shared the very odd fad from my early high school years of pulling up your socks over the bottom of your jeans. It was something, I am embarrassed to admit, that I did because other people did it even though, objectively speaking, it was not a good look. And, thankfully, that fad didn’t last long.
Right now, kids want more and more Silly Bandz, and want them to be ever new and different. New shapes, new colors; the things get wilder and wackier as time goes on. They started out just plain bright colors and now they come in tie-dye, glow in the dark, sparkly, scented, and some even change colors in the sun. And people just can’t seem to get enough of them. As far as I can tell, part of the goal of Silly Bandz is just to amass as many as you can. Until, of course, they become so prevalent that they are no longer cool. There was an article in the Metro section of the newspaper not long ago about Silly Bandz. The last sentence was a quote by a very wise fourth grader: “Once you have all the cool silly bands, once you have 300 silly bands, people are going to say, ‘That’s not popular anymore.’”
Wikopedia defines a fad as “any form of behavior that develops among a large population and is collectively followed with enthusiasm for some period.” Part and parcel of being a fad is being fleeting in nature. That will certainly be the fate for Silly Bands.
Which brings me (I swear!) to the connection with our readings this morning.
We are bombarded today with reminders our how fleeting we are and how, with regard to possessions and wealth, ultimately, you can’t take it with you.
All is vanity, complains our Old Testament reading from Ecclesiastes. The word “vanity” is translated from a word in Hebrew (which I will not attempt to pronounce) which means “puff of wind, vapor, a breath” – in other words, something that is quickly passing away. Just about everything you can think of is included in the vanity category in the book of Ecclesiastes. Accomplishments, work, wealth, wisdom, strength, possessions – even life itself. Nothing is certain in life, other than death. It is better to be dead than living, says the author of Ecclesiastes, and better still to have never been born. All the things that we think matter are like chasing after the wind. We can never be satisfied that we have enough of any of these things. And then, no matter how much of whatever it is we amass, it will be left for those who come after anyway.
Then there’s our Psalm, which reminds us that we will all die and no amount of money can change that.
And in Luke Jesus tells his parable about the foolish farmer making plans to build bigger barns to store up his excess wheat the night before he dies.
All is vanity. Like chasing after the wind.
Of course, our entire economy is based on our wanting things we don’t really need. We are bombarded with ads that promise us that this new thing will make us happy, attractive, and fulfilled. But of course, just like Silly Bandz and all other fads, just like money and whatever other Stuff we are compelled to amass, none of this can really add meaning to our lives.
It seems like every year or so a new scientific study comes out affirming what the writer of Ecclesiastes knew intuitively: wealth (or whatever other material thing we are collecting) does not equal happiness. Once a certain minimum standard of living is in place so that someone is not hungry, diseased and oppressed, there is a sort of happiness setpoint. Once that minimum standard of caloric intake and physical security is reached, further increases do not increase happiness in the long run.
So, in the immortal words of Alfie, what’s it all about? If meaning and well-being cannot be found in our stuff, where can we find it?
Luke tells us that it’s about being “rich toward God” rather than storing up treasures for ourselves. A contemporary Bible translation called The Message says we need to “fill our barn with God” rather than with Self.
So, here are a handful of possibilities for how we fill our barn with God, based on what I’ve learned both from the Silly Bandz phenomenon and from the Foolish Farmer.
• First, give thanks. When you find yourself in the desirable position of filling up your arms with Silly Bandz, remember that nothing that is yours is really yours. The foolish farmer forgot that all that he had came from God and all that he had was God’s. He forgot to give thanks for his abundance.
• Second, get by with less. Do you really need 24 silly bands? Much less 300? The foolish farmer could have just stored what would have fit in his existing barn and lived a fine life. But instead, he wanted more and more. There is a saying that money is like ocean water – the more you drink, the thirstier you get.
• Third, share what you have. If you have more silly bands than you can use, please share them with your little brother who doesn’t have any. How many widows and orphans could the foolish farmer have provided for, just with his excess? On our end, I’ve read economic experts that say that if everyone in the developed world gave $1 a week to the developing world, we could rid the world of hunger.
• Fourth, trust in God. If you don’t have any Silly Bandz, trust that you will get them if you ever really need them. Or, since the concepts of “need” and “Silly Bandz” are inherently unrelated, just relax and know that the fad will pass. The foolish farmer was so insistent on being self-reliant, rather than relying on God, that he hoarded himself to death. There is nothing wrong with saving for a rainy day. The problem is when you lose focus and start hoarding for a tsunami.
• Fifth, look outward. Stop counting your silly bands and think about something else. The foolish farmer couldn’t see beyond himself – “my grain” “my goods” “my soul” – relaxing, eating, drinking, being merry. But the most fulfilled people are the ones engaged in something beyond themselves.
• Sixth, concentrate on what lasts. I guarantee that Silly Bandz will not last forever. Either they’ll get stretched out and broken, they’ll be stolen by your little brother, or they’ll become uncool before you know it. The foolish farmer was focused solely on achieving material success, but as soon as he achieved it his life was over. Stuff is finite -- the person with the most toys does not win in the end.
• Seventh, free yourself. Those Silly Bandz are just weighing you down, my friends. The foolish farmer’s possessions began to own him, just like everything we have owns a little piece of us, leaving us just that much less free than we were before.
• And finally, connect to God. Although many people would tell you otherwise, life with God is not synonymous with the American ideals of prosperity and success. Silly Bandz won’t fulfill you any more than a massive silo full of wheat in your back yard. Only God can do that. Amen.
Pentecost 10, Proper 13, Year C
Luke 12:13-21; Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23
Raise your hand if you know what these are? How many of you have them? Anybody wearing them right now? Well, for those of you who don’t know, these are Silly Bandz. (That’s bandz with a “z”, mind you.) These rubber-band-like plastic bracelets come in all kinds of shapes – animals, princesses, dinosaurs, flowers, food - even letters. You can stretch them out, but they always, rather disturbingly, return back to their shape. And they seem to be everywhere.
One day I was in Bed Bath and Beyond with my kids and Sophie noticed a huge bin of silly bands near the register. She really wanted some. She said that almost all the kids in her class had them. They would wear a bunch of them and trade them during recess. We’d recently started her on an allowance and so I told her she could use her own money to buy some if she wanted to. So she proudly came home with a pack of 24 princess-themed Silly Bandz (for $2.99 plus tax). Of course, as soon as her little brother saw how excited she was about them, he wanted to have some too. At first, even though she had dozens, she refused to give him even one and he began to cry. But then, under some parental duress, she agreed to sell him one-third of them. (Who says the market economy isn’t alive and well?) They put them all on their arms, they organized them by color, they counted and recounted and traded them. And then they began to talk about how they could get more.
All this excitement and turmoil inspired me to try talking to the kids about fads. I told them how often people start doing something because other people are doing it, or wanting something because other people have it. Sometimes whatever it is is pretty silly and makes no sense, but people do it anyway because everyone else is doing it. I shared the very odd fad from my early high school years of pulling up your socks over the bottom of your jeans. It was something, I am embarrassed to admit, that I did because other people did it even though, objectively speaking, it was not a good look. And, thankfully, that fad didn’t last long.
Right now, kids want more and more Silly Bandz, and want them to be ever new and different. New shapes, new colors; the things get wilder and wackier as time goes on. They started out just plain bright colors and now they come in tie-dye, glow in the dark, sparkly, scented, and some even change colors in the sun. And people just can’t seem to get enough of them. As far as I can tell, part of the goal of Silly Bandz is just to amass as many as you can. Until, of course, they become so prevalent that they are no longer cool. There was an article in the Metro section of the newspaper not long ago about Silly Bandz. The last sentence was a quote by a very wise fourth grader: “Once you have all the cool silly bands, once you have 300 silly bands, people are going to say, ‘That’s not popular anymore.’”
Wikopedia defines a fad as “any form of behavior that develops among a large population and is collectively followed with enthusiasm for some period.” Part and parcel of being a fad is being fleeting in nature. That will certainly be the fate for Silly Bands.
Which brings me (I swear!) to the connection with our readings this morning.
We are bombarded today with reminders our how fleeting we are and how, with regard to possessions and wealth, ultimately, you can’t take it with you.
All is vanity, complains our Old Testament reading from Ecclesiastes. The word “vanity” is translated from a word in Hebrew (which I will not attempt to pronounce) which means “puff of wind, vapor, a breath” – in other words, something that is quickly passing away. Just about everything you can think of is included in the vanity category in the book of Ecclesiastes. Accomplishments, work, wealth, wisdom, strength, possessions – even life itself. Nothing is certain in life, other than death. It is better to be dead than living, says the author of Ecclesiastes, and better still to have never been born. All the things that we think matter are like chasing after the wind. We can never be satisfied that we have enough of any of these things. And then, no matter how much of whatever it is we amass, it will be left for those who come after anyway.
Then there’s our Psalm, which reminds us that we will all die and no amount of money can change that.
And in Luke Jesus tells his parable about the foolish farmer making plans to build bigger barns to store up his excess wheat the night before he dies.
All is vanity. Like chasing after the wind.
Of course, our entire economy is based on our wanting things we don’t really need. We are bombarded with ads that promise us that this new thing will make us happy, attractive, and fulfilled. But of course, just like Silly Bandz and all other fads, just like money and whatever other Stuff we are compelled to amass, none of this can really add meaning to our lives.
It seems like every year or so a new scientific study comes out affirming what the writer of Ecclesiastes knew intuitively: wealth (or whatever other material thing we are collecting) does not equal happiness. Once a certain minimum standard of living is in place so that someone is not hungry, diseased and oppressed, there is a sort of happiness setpoint. Once that minimum standard of caloric intake and physical security is reached, further increases do not increase happiness in the long run.
So, in the immortal words of Alfie, what’s it all about? If meaning and well-being cannot be found in our stuff, where can we find it?
Luke tells us that it’s about being “rich toward God” rather than storing up treasures for ourselves. A contemporary Bible translation called The Message says we need to “fill our barn with God” rather than with Self.
So, here are a handful of possibilities for how we fill our barn with God, based on what I’ve learned both from the Silly Bandz phenomenon and from the Foolish Farmer.
• First, give thanks. When you find yourself in the desirable position of filling up your arms with Silly Bandz, remember that nothing that is yours is really yours. The foolish farmer forgot that all that he had came from God and all that he had was God’s. He forgot to give thanks for his abundance.
• Second, get by with less. Do you really need 24 silly bands? Much less 300? The foolish farmer could have just stored what would have fit in his existing barn and lived a fine life. But instead, he wanted more and more. There is a saying that money is like ocean water – the more you drink, the thirstier you get.
• Third, share what you have. If you have more silly bands than you can use, please share them with your little brother who doesn’t have any. How many widows and orphans could the foolish farmer have provided for, just with his excess? On our end, I’ve read economic experts that say that if everyone in the developed world gave $1 a week to the developing world, we could rid the world of hunger.
• Fourth, trust in God. If you don’t have any Silly Bandz, trust that you will get them if you ever really need them. Or, since the concepts of “need” and “Silly Bandz” are inherently unrelated, just relax and know that the fad will pass. The foolish farmer was so insistent on being self-reliant, rather than relying on God, that he hoarded himself to death. There is nothing wrong with saving for a rainy day. The problem is when you lose focus and start hoarding for a tsunami.
• Fifth, look outward. Stop counting your silly bands and think about something else. The foolish farmer couldn’t see beyond himself – “my grain” “my goods” “my soul” – relaxing, eating, drinking, being merry. But the most fulfilled people are the ones engaged in something beyond themselves.
• Sixth, concentrate on what lasts. I guarantee that Silly Bandz will not last forever. Either they’ll get stretched out and broken, they’ll be stolen by your little brother, or they’ll become uncool before you know it. The foolish farmer was focused solely on achieving material success, but as soon as he achieved it his life was over. Stuff is finite -- the person with the most toys does not win in the end.
• Seventh, free yourself. Those Silly Bandz are just weighing you down, my friends. The foolish farmer’s possessions began to own him, just like everything we have owns a little piece of us, leaving us just that much less free than we were before.
• And finally, connect to God. Although many people would tell you otherwise, life with God is not synonymous with the American ideals of prosperity and success. Silly Bandz won’t fulfill you any more than a massive silo full of wheat in your back yard. Only God can do that. Amen.
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