Greed

“If this don't make you mad, nothing will.” This was the introduction to a forwarded email a friend sent me the other day. The forward originally came from a group that is taking a militaristic stance against greed. Imbedded in the email was a link to a video detailing the egregious ways a billionaire named Henry Kravis makes his money.

It appears that Henry makes his money in legal – yet, extremely unethical – ways. So, this group produced a video to help fire up the masses as they declare war on the greed that earned Henry Kravis billions of dollars.

What is the use in fighting such a war?

If your goal is to create frustration and anger toward people most of us will never get to know, there is plenty of reason to fight greed. If you want to highlight the depravity of certain people who appear to be untouchable, take your talent and energy and you can make that happen, too. If you want to create further division in our society, go ahead: compare the sickening wealth of Henry Kravis against the ordinary wages of ‘good people’ like teachers and nurses.

I don’t see the point, though.

My hope and prayer would be that a person such as Henry might change the way he lives. Oh, how this world could be changed if we were able to reach the outrageously wealthy with the needs of the rest of the world! Reaching out with love to a man such as this could transform his heart and his life in a way that could help him live in a generous way.

This hope might seem naive, unlikely, and completely unrealistic. The likelihood of a change in lifestyle is about... well, almost none. But, haranguing this billionaire will amount to zilch for sure. Like it or not, we all live in ways that are no good for the well-being of others. We all need to change our ways. But, being attacked doesn’t do a darned bit of good in getting us to make the needed changes. More often than not, for me at least, honest and kind words of rebuke are the change initiators.

Advent Poem

Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am,
nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-
born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

Luci Shaw

More Waiting

I'm ok at waiting. I don't mind standing and waiting for my turn to buy a movie ticket. I'm not a good wait-er when something is supposed to happen NOW, like waiting for an actor to say his next line, waiting for it, waiting for it, it's not coming yet. Not now either. Missed his cue. Everything's a mess!

These weeks before Christmas, the Advent season, are uncomfortable waiting. Yeah, I'm waiting to celebrate Jesus' birthday, and I'm nearly certain that we'll sit under the tree and do the same things we do nearly every year. But I'm ALSO waiting for Jesus to come again. Like a young kid read at the Christmas program last weekend, we're waiting for a place where lions will lie down with lambs, and war will be no more. Waiting for Jesus' return isn't the same kind of waiting for something that I know will happen eventually like getting a movie ticket. It's not waiting for something that's late--like a pizza that doesn't arrive half an hour after ordering.

It's waiting in a different way altogether. It's uncomfortable and exciting.