Years ago, a young woman in my parish died of cancer, leaving behind a distraught sister and mother. Before the funeral service was to begin, the young woman's sister got up to speak. She was a successful businesswoman and normally had no trouble speaking with clarity and accuracy. She began the eulogy well, talking about her sister with love and devotion. But then something happened to this young woman and all of a sudden, she could not speak. She was wracked with tears, silently unable to utter a word. She stood at the lecturn immobile and overwhelmed.
We all sat there at a loss. I wondered if I should go to her, to help her to her seat. I didn't want to embarrass her. We all just sat there, dumb and helpless.
The young woman's mother quietly got up from the first pew and with calm, walked over to her only surviving daughter. She did the most wonderful thing. She just stood behind her daughter. She did not try to take over the eulogy or even put her arm around her daughter, she just stood, so close that her daughter could feel her presence. She stood behind her daughter and the young woman gradually became calm. She resumed her eulogy and when she finished, mother and daughter walked to the pew, holding hands.
That mother gave up her own grief for a moment to be there for her one living daughter. And because she acted not for herself but for another, the mother and daughter truly communicated without saying a word. Strength flowed from one to another. Without a word.
It says in the Book of Genesis that God scattered human beings. We only had one language and we wanted to build a tower, something so high that it touched they sky, something that would make a name for us, "for ourselves," we said, "for ourselves." We wanted to be like God. So God destroyed the Tower and scattered mankind over the face of the earth. And now we speak thousands of languages and cannot even communicate because our cultures are so different. We tried to make ourselves as high as God and we ended up babbling and confused.
God did not want us to try to be God. God did not want us to live just for ourselves. It's like when we ate that fruit in the garden. The fruit was supposed to make us like God. But trying to be like God causes us suffering. It causes us pain. It causes us to be confused. Doing anything just for ourselves never works out well. We were not created to live just for ourselves.
Why do we love money so much? Money is power. With money, you can live just for yourself. If you have money, you can walk into any restaurant or store and get what you want. The more money you have, the more attention you get, the more choices you have. Money is power. Money makes us able to build towers and shout out orders and think that we are it, that we are God. Money makes us think that we can do it all by ourselves.
This past week, a homeless man in New York City found a backpack with a lot of cash in it, about $40,000 to be exact. The man had no home. He could have considered this his lucky break, his chance to get a place, eat some good food, get some stability, some respect.
But he returned the bag. With a severe stutter, he spoke in public about his decision. "God has always taken care of me," he said. The $40,000 "wasn't my money to take."
Is what you have really your tower to build, your money to spend, your life to live? What if all of it really belongs to someone else, someone who stands behind you, to support you, who gives you freedom to find your way, all the time knowing that the only true way is the one back home to him? We do our greatest work when we realize that we are not God, that all is not up to us and that we are not alone. That is when we stop babbling and really begin to serve one another, to know and be known by another.
The story of the homeless man went viral. Thousands of people heard about his honesty, his generosity. Donations poured in for him; $90,000 has been raised so far, a free gift, for the one who did not take matters into his own hands, but returned what he found and trusted in God.
They say that success is like an ever higher mountain. As soon as you reach the top, you see that you are not so high, that there is something higher. And you are never satisfied. No matter how high you climb, you are not God and you are never high enough. Meanwhile, Jesus stands behind you quietly, as you work and sweat and struggle. He just stands there, close but not interfering, waiting for the day when you will feel his strength and his power infuse your soul. When you will stop shuddering and crying and stumbling and babbling and know that he is there for you and has been all along, when you feel the presence of our Lord right behind you, you will know that you are rich and that your life is not your own. And you will learn to truly give back what was never yours in the first place.
