Sunday, 10 August 2025

You Can't Take it With You

I want to know who was paying attention at last week’s Orchard Service – can anyone tell me the takeaway message which Nick had us repeating and that I’ve had in my head all week?

“You can’t take it with you” – I’m sure we’ve each heard that dozens of times, but in our Gospel, we’re again hearing Jesus ask us where our treasure lies, and it’s interesting in the context of our other readings, which draw us back to the relationship between faith and action.

In Isaiah’s vision to the people of Judah and Jerusalem, he’s declaring that God has no need of empty gestures, the sacrifice of things - animals or incense – or even festivals and praise. The message is very clear; material sacrifice means nothing, changes nothing. God wants us to show our faith by doing good and is very clear that this means standing with the oppressed, the poor and vulnerable. For any Christians who regard works of social justice as “woke nonsense” I suggest they give their bibles a read.

The writer of Hebrews reminds us that throughout history God’s chosen people have done what God required or asked of them by faith and faith alone, there may have been no pay off for their actions or personal sacrifices within their own lifetime, but their lives and actions formed part of a much bigger narrative, becoming part of the wider story of God’s relationship with humankind.

We’ve had this thread running through our preaching for quite some time, that our actions in the world reveal a lot about our relationship to faith and relationship with God. Jesus tells us in today’s gospel reading that what we treasure reveals where our heart lies, and this then seems to be directly linked to our readiness to receive Jesus.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve got so much stuff. Sitting writing this sermon I was surrounded by books, craft materials, board games, ornaments, a very full shoe rack. I’m surrounded by things, and as I contemplated this sermon I thought about how the things around me made me feel.

I’m sure many of us here are book people, there’s something so beautiful about a physical book – it’s a sensory experience of sight, smell and touch – and then there’s what’s in the book, be it knowledge or an exciting story, or a delicious recipe, or maybe we enjoy bokos of art or photography – appreciating that our creator has made us people who create. Books enhance our human experience, maybe even help us to understand it a little better. And we learn about God through books and of course The Bible.

And being created to be people who create, many of us enjoy craft or art – many of grew out of necessity but now I think is driven by the creative urge which God has put in each of us.

Then there’s the boardgames – boardgames bring people together, they give us a shared social experience which again can enhance our experience of life. Boardgames take us away from screens and are an active rather than passive way to spend time.

Ornaments offer us beauty or art, memories of where we’ve been or self-expression in our decor, as do shoes – many people say you can tell a lot about a person from their shoes, although I think mine mostly say I like to be comfy.

Not treasuring these earthly things I think is hard, an object can hold so much meaning – otherwise why would archaeologists spend their lives carefully uncovering, logging and exploring items from history?
And there’s objects like our wedding rings or items passed down through generations, yet all the while I’m looking around at these objects, I’m also remembering our entire congregation last week chanting “you can’t take it with you”.

Do these items hold our hearts more than God does? Or are we able to hold lightly onto these material things?

There’s a societal narrative, driven by advertising and media, that the acquisition of things, earning more money and buying higher status items is what we should aspire to. It’s contributed to making our relationship to what we treasure really complicated. We live in a society centred around earning money and buying things – this is how worth is often measured.

I don’t want to patronise or romanticise people who have little material wealth or goods, especially as none of us can hide from the knowledge of the extreme poverty and deprivation that exists in our world, but it’s sometimes the case that those who have less, those without the noise of acquisition or objects surrounding them, are more receptive to the concept of God – there’s a reason why most religious orders have rules around wealth and possessions. They believe, and demonstrate, it makes you more receptive and ready to welcome Jesus.

The perceived need for God in people’s lives has diminished as the standard of living has risen. The better off we become the less we feel we need a God.

But Christian’s don’t always get it right either - the first time I visited Chester Cathedral some really negative feelings rose up in me– I was appalled at its ornament and the massive displays of the past wealth of its patrons. I couldn’t get out of my head what good could have been done with that money – I couldn’t see the artistry or beauty at all.

So how do we get back to building our treasure in heaven so we’re ready to receive Jesus should he fancy a visit to Flixton any time soon? Well I think the writers of Isaiah and Hebrews would possibly tell us to act right and have faith.

And Jesus might remind us of the spiritual riches we have in abundance like God's love, grace and mercy. We don’t access these using some heavenly ledger, treasure in heaven, despite the imagery used, isn’t like a bank for good deeds, balancing the books to access Gods riches.

God just gives it too us, and desires that we love that freely given abundance more than we love the finite and limited riches the world has to offer. The books, the craft materials, the boardgames, the shoes and ornaments will one day be dust in the wind. I can’t take them with me, but nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate us from the treasure that comes from opening our hearts, having faith and choosing to welcome God into our lives.