God fills us to overflowing – Mark 10:17-27, Heb 4:12-13

 Twenty-Eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year B; St. Ann's

You’ve all probably heard that familiar adage that a pessimist says a glass is half-empty and an optimist says that it’s half-full.  Well, as Christians, we’re not called to be pessimists or optimists. We’re called to be something much more exciting; we’re called to be people of hope. A person of hope doesn’t deal in these half measures: hope pays attention to the reality of the water and the reality of the space, and hope proclaims that the glass can be filled.  Christian hope in particular is the assurance that God can fill us up, that through the blood of Christ out poured, we can be filled to overflowing with holiness and love. God longs to fill us up. God is acting to do just that. That’s what Jesus means when he says that “All things are possible with God.”

 

But let’s back up a bit. You can buy shirts that say on them, “Life is good.” I remember seeing one of these, and even being tempted to maybe buy one, thinking that it would be a great way to celebrate the goodness of creation and of human life, but then I thought, “well, that’s half of what I want us to proclaim.” And it is important. It’s important to look at our world, to look at ourselves, and look for what’s good, what’s already half full, and give thanks for that. And, especially when it comes to our gifts, to ask how we’re meant to use those in the service of the church and the world. The giving thanks is fuel for the generosity.

 

But it’s only half the story, and I think it would almost be crude to wear that in front of someone faced with grief, or depression, or radical poverty. We’re not called to be Polyannas, and ignore the emptiness, the very real lack in our world, in ourselves. This world is not heaven, and it’s just wrong to pretend it is. Part of what we look for is sin, especially in ourselves, but we should also look at the emptinesses that aren’t sin, the brokenness. We should repent of what needs to be repented of, we should lament it all, we should dare to ask God to act to change these things and dare to ask how He might use us to do that.

 

Hope is what lets us be realists. It’s what lets us risk really paying attention, to ourselves and to one another. And the reality is, that when we stop and look at our world, at our lives, we see so much that is good, and so much that falls short.  We see signs of God’s goodness, and we see sin and wickedness and natural evil that cries out to God.  And if we ever, in this life, fail to see one of other of those, we’re not looking hard enough.  And hope says that this world, with its mix of fullness and emptiness can be made full. Hope says that each of us, with our mix of fullness and emptiness will be made full. God will make us overflow.

 

The rich man that runs up to Jesus is not a man of hope.  He seems to start as a man of optimism.  He knows the answer to his question, he knows the commandments.  And he’s basically a good guy, he hasn’t broken any of the 10 commandments (and he hasn’t committed fraud either, which is kind of a curve ball Jesus throws him).  He’s doing well morally, and he knows it.  And that’s what makes it impossible for him to have hope.  All things are possible for God, but this man right now is too much of an optimist to have hope.  He doesn’t need to have his glass filled up, because he’s convinced it’s already full!  He can see nothing in himself to lament.

 

But, then Jesus opens up a hole.  That word of God, piercing, as Hebrews put it, exposing what’s between the joints and the marrow, like a spiritual x-ray.  He shows him that he’s owned by his possessions.  He’s got a lot of stuff, and it has more of a claim on him than God does right now, and he doesn’t even know.

 

And then, he does.  Jesus shows him, and everything seems to coming crashing down.  He goes away sad.  He’s realized that he can’t do everything, that he can’t write his own ticket into eternal life.  He doesn’t reach lament, but lament sees the emptiness, the lack of freedom he has in his case, as room for God to fill. He leaves. But, God doesn’t leave us.  We have hope: God can fill us up.

 

In last week’s gospel, (which comes right before this in Mark’s gospel) Jesus puts a child at the center of his disciples’ attention and says this is what his followers should be like. Healthy happy children knows that they are not self-sufficient and know that their parents can provide for them. They know they are special and wonderful and loved (that life is good) and that they are not grown-ups yet, that they are needy. Christ calls us to that kind of child-like hope by which we recognize ourselves as loved and needy, and recognized God as the giver of all good gifts.