I am familiar with Jesus’ repeated injunctions against wealth, and I typically associate these warnings with excessive wealth – the kind that the rich man refused to share with Lazarus, or the corrupt earnings the tax collector Zacchaeus promised to redistribute to the poor. But in this passage from the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus does not highlight the problem of disproportionate wealth. Rather, he reminds us that our basic material needs – for things like food, drink, and clothing – can so easily undergird undue desires for mammon. Whether rich or poor, we all want to ensure a secure future. It is these desires for control and security that lie at the root of so much anxiety, so much worry, and so much greed.
My family and I will soon return to the USA after a year living in Uganda. Twelve months ago, we were consumed with anxious questions. Where would we live? Where would our children go to school? How would teaching and research unfold? Would we bring the right supplies? Would our health hold up? These worries cost me so much sleep! What I’ve realized this year is that while preparation is always necessary, I am ultimately not the master of my own fate or the arbiter of my own future. This lesson came home to me on my first day of teaching last August. On my way to the local university, I made about five wrong turns and soon had no idea how to proceed. Calling out the window to a group of workers, I inquired on how to reach the main highway. Laughing, one called back, “Mzungu (white man), you are lost!” He then jumped in the passenger seat and directed me to the right road. In the meantime, a university colleague informed my students that I was delayed. When I arrived over an hour late – a first in my teaching career – I thought my students would be sullen. Instead, they inexplicably broke into applause. At that moment, I knew I wouldn’t be “in control” this year. Yet I also knew that I would be the recipient of unmerited grace. Like Paul, Thomas More, and John Fisher, I learned in my own small way that “my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
May each of us never forget that God – and our neighbors – are always ready to hop on board with us, guiding us forward on a path we only dimly see.
Jay Carney
I came to Creighton in 2011 and teach a wide range of classes here, from freshman theology through graduate seminars in Christian spirituality. My research engages questions of reconciliation, theology of sport, and World Christianity, especially Catholicism in modern Africa.
I am married with four children in secondary school and college. My wife Becky is a remarkable soulmate and friend, and our children have given both of us much love and laughter (and, of course, a few wrinkles). I grew up in the Washington, DC area and have also lived in Wisconsin, North Carolina, Arkansas, and Uganda. In my spare time, I enjoy reading, running, cycling, soccer, food, fellowship, and listening to music of all genres.
Writing Collaborative Ministry reflections is humbling…I’ve gained newfound respect for the homilist’s task! I feel that I am preaching to myself as much as anyone else. It’s wonderful to know that so many people are walking together as disciples of Jesus Christ. Thank you for your prayers!
