Wallingford Presbyterian Church
July 16, 2006

Rev. Deborah H. Sunoo

“That Pesky 10th Commandment”

(Micah 4:1-5 and Micah 2:1-11)

 

          I guess it’s pretty clear that our first reading was a promise of better days to come: no more weapons, no more fighting, everyone resting happily under his own fig tree (Micah 4:3-4). It’s equally clear that our second reading stands in sharp contrast as the depressing reality of Micah’s day: wealthy landowners stealing people’s fields, evicting women and children from their homes, telling the few prophets brave enough to speak out to shut up and go home, while listening only to the messages they want to hear (Micah 2:1-11).

          I don’t know about you, but I read through texts like these and my first reaction is to shake my head in disgust at how awful those people were.

It doesn’t help that when I translate passages like these for our day, I find plenty of parallels in the actions of our own leaders (whether we’re talking about the religious, financial, or political elite). Clearly, there’s an awful lot that needs to be said to them – powerful, prophetic words about what they did back then (those words were Micah’s responsibility) and equally urgent words about what they are doing right now (those words are our job). 

Either way, it’s about them and their bad behavior, right?

          But there’s another layer here in Micah too – especially in the second chapter.  A layer that hinges on a word that sounds positively quaint to our ears, so little does anyone use it these days.  Did you catch it there in verse 2?  The word covet? “They covet fields and seize them; houses and take them away.”

          Now maybe in our grandparents or our great-grandparents’ day folks still used this word, I don’t know.  I suspect the only time we ever hear it now is when we’re reading the Ten Commandments in Exodus or Deuteronomy. There it is, #10.  “Thou shalt not covet… your neighbor’s house or his wife or his slaves or his ox or his donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” (Exodus 20:17) To covet meaning simply to desire, to wish for something enviously.

          On one hand the old fashioned language lends it a certain importance – the sin of covetousness – but how many of us actually take this commandment seriously?

          Sure, Ken and I tease each other at times – when he’s drooling over the latest sports car or the ultimate accessory for his iPod; my own weakness is watching those shows about people’s homes being updated and remodeled.  “Hey,” we say to each other, “No coveting, remember?  Flag on the play!”

          But even when we make the connection, it’s hard not to be dismissive – after all, we’re bombarded with hundreds if not thousands of messages every single day designed (let’s face it) to encourage coveting!  If not our neighbors’ slave or ox or donkey, then certainly his surround sound system, her walk-in closet, or their clothes.

          Not all of the ten commandments seem equally to inspire us to brag about breaking them – though we’ve said before that the Sabbath one does, for sure, in this fast-paced, 24/7 culture. (Rest? Who has time to rest? We’re all so busy!)  I think this one, about coveting, is considered to be decidedly outdated too. In a culture so driven by advertising, in an economy that relies so heavily on convincing us we must have things we don’t really need, is it even possible to take the 10th commandment seriously?

          And just how serious is it, anyway?  I mean, sitting in a list alongside murder, theft, and adultery, why does coveting even rate a mention? How could simply wanting something (not taking it, mind you – that’s commandment # 8… or distorting the truth to get it, which would have us in #9) why would just plain wanting it be so bad?  What’s the big deal?

          Maybe the big deal is what coveting isn’t.

For coveting is the opposite of contentment. 

And “I want more” the very antithesis of “I have enough.” 

And “I want what he’s got” prevents us from recognizing God’s amazing gifts that already surround us.

          According to Mary Pipher, “in the 1930’s we had an enormous economic crisis.  Today we have the poverty of consumerism, which means never having enough.  We’re impoverished in a different way.”  We don’t know how to enjoy what we have; we’re so busy chasing after more.  “We are, to quote Peter Rowan, ‘thirsty in the rain.’”[1]

          Just listen for a moment and try to guess what this next quote refers to: “You want it. You want it bad.  Sometimes so much it hurts.  You can taste it.  You feel like you would do anything to get it.  Go further than they’d suspect.  Twist your soul and crush what’s in your way.  Then you get it.  And something happens.  You become the object of your desire.  And it feels incredible.” Would you believe you’ve been listening to a perfume ad from Macy’s?[2]  Or maybe you’ve seen Target’s latest tv commercials over the past few weeks?  Set to a catchy fast-paced tune are all these run-on phrases like “Gotta gotta get it, gotta get it right now.  You know I really want it and I gotta get more.  Gotta gotta get it, gotta get it right now…”

          I ask you, how in this day and age could anyone not covet?  How do we protect ourselves from internalizing messages like these?  It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s a Mercedes or the latest mouthwash; the message is the same.  We hear it so often most times we don’t even notice it anymore: You want it. You need it. You’ve just gotta have it.  (So even though you came into Walmart for a few pairs of socks for the kids, they’re going to do their level best to convince you that you need to walk out with a wide screen tv!)

          Do you remember Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, when he reminded us that it isn’t just what we do, but what’s in our hearts that counts?  So that not just murder, but hatred, is a problem; not just adultery, but lustful thoughts?  I’m reminded of that gospel teaching when I read this pesky 10th commandment. Because apparently, it’s not just lying and stealing that can be hurtful and destructive.  It’s also our desire for more.

OK… so coveting is really bad – it made the top ten list of things we oughtn’t do, even –yet we live in a society designed precisely to make us covet.  The advertising industry isn’t likely to slow down anytime soon.  So it sounds like a Catch-22 to me.  Makes me wonder if there’s any way out.

          There is, but it turns out we need to revisit that other most neglected commandment to find it.  Would you believe we already have in our hands a secret antidote formula to help us avoid the sin of coveting, of wanting more? And it sits right there disguised as… Sabbath.

          What’s the connection?  Sabbath, one day each week to step away from the rat race, to step away from keeping up with the Jones’s, to take a break from working and running and shopping till we drop.

          I’m sure many of my daughter’s friends would be dismayed to hear me say this, but a day at the mall probably isn’t the best way to spend a Sabbath, in order to take full advantage of its benefits.  The purpose of Sabbath is to step away from the pressures of the world, in order to reconnect with ourselves, with our loved ones, and with God.

This isn’t a guilt trip, honest – it’s an invitation.  And I’m preaching to myself as much as I am to anyone else.  But to regain our sense of perspective and our priorities, we do need to step away once in awhile.

          For each of us I imagine it would look a bit different, what any one of us would most benefit from stepping away from.  When it comes to allowing the Sabbath to help us avoid the sin of coveting, we might hear an invitation like:

Put down the catalogs. 

Step away from the remote. 

Take a break from the shopping lists.

Steer clear of the mall.

Step away for an hour or two.  Better yet, the Scriptures tell us, step away for a whole day. Leave the whole advertising-dependent economy behind and do something else entirely.  Then sit back and watch your priorities fall into place.  The promise is that when we claim that time away, we’ll discover ourselves wanting less, because we’ll remember how much we’ve already been given.

Not that our priorities will magically stay in place – that’s why we’re invited to do this every single week.  Otherwise even Sabbath couldn’t compete with the other messages we hear. 

And remember that society will exert its every influence to tell us we’re nuts when we do sit back and appreciate what we’ve got, instead of grasping and reaching and striving and spending to get more.  Rather than earn money, Henry David Thoreau sought to reduce his wants so he wouldn’t need to buy anything.  “As he went around preaching his ingenious idea, the shopkeepers of Concord hoped he would drop dead.”[3]

But please hear the strong note of grace here – coveting has been an issue for God’s human creatures from day one.  Adam and Eve wanted more fruit than was good for them.  The children of Israel, wandering through the wilderness, wanted to hoard more manna than they really needed.  The fact that coveting made it into the Ten Commandments only further emphasizes that it has been an issue all along.  By Micah’s day it had become a huge problem.  But – and here’s the good news – our tendency to violate that pesky 10th commandment can be countered by the gift of the 4th.  Remember the Sabbath Day.  Step away from the rat race.  Step away from blind consumerism.  Regain your perspective.  Reclaim your life.

          Obviously the danger is we’ll continue to ignore both commandments and become entirely swallowed up by the culture – we’re exposed to vastly more “buy me” messages than any prior generation. It’ll take some doing not to be brainwashed into believing what we’re told about what we want/need/must have. Interestingly, we are also the generation most likely to forget to slow down, rest, step away and regain our perspective through the gift of Sabbath.

But when we see the connection, and pair the two, what could be a lose/lose situation quickly turns into a win/win.  I know, God says, how hard it will be for you to resist wanting more.  That’s why I’ve given you the gift of holy time.  Embrace it.  Twenty-four hours each week to remember, as any good Mr. Rogers’ fan knows, that “the best things in life aren’t things.”

Think of the most precious, amazing moments in your life.  How many of them required a shopping trip? How many of them were affected by anything a neighbor had or wore or drove?  I’ll wager not a one.  The best things in life are unattached to anything the advertisers can sell us.  Because as hard as they try, they can’t package love and they can’t sell grace.  It’s already there, absolutely free, if we’ll just stop long enough to notice it.  Grace upon grace upon grace.

          The sin of covetousness.  God knows it’s a danger that will continue.  We are, every one of us, prone to want more.  It doesn’t seem all that bad, if all we want is just one more ____, just a little bigger ____, just a little newer ____. (You fill in the blanks). And God knows we’re not going to get it right all the time. But here stands this beautiful gift, this divine offer to help protect us from all those false prophets we hear in the ads.

          “Thou shalt not covet.” Thank God what we most need to offset the dangers of this pesky tenth commandment is already given us in the fourth.  Let’s claim the antidote formula!  Step away, for a time, from all that’s out there trying to convince us the key to the good life is more stuff.  Step away, and watch the transformation in our hearts from coveting to appreciating, from wanting and longing to celebrating.  Step away for a time, and welcome the opportunity for each of us to rest happily under our own fig tree, instead of trying to get our hands on another.

Step away for a Sabbath, as long as you can, as often as you can. And watch your “I want’s” morph into “thank you’s” and your “I need’s” into stories of amazing grace.   Amen.


 

[1] Mary Pipher, The Shelter of Each Other, p. 81

[2] Advertisement for perfume in Macy’s window, as cited by Wayne Muller, in Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in our Busy Lives, p. 129

[3] Mary Pipher, quoting Richard Armour in Shelter of Each Other, p. 94)