August 10, 2025 – The Ninth Sunday After Pentecost

Treasure That Will Not Fail

Last Sunday, we heard Jesus’ words about possessions and priorities — the call not to store up treasures for ourselves but to be rich toward God. We reflected on how easily possessions, money, and wealth can end up possessing us. Jesus challenged us to hold our possessions lightly and to live generously.

Today, Luke's Gospel continues right where we left off. It’s as though Jesus hasn’t even paused for breath. His teaching moves from warning us about the dangers of greed to painting a picture of a life that trusts God enough to be free from anxiety, a life that lives generously, and a life that stays ready for the coming of the Lord.

It begins with tenderness: "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

Jesus does not start with a demand; he starts with a promise. He tells us who we are — a flock under the shepherd’s care — and he tells us whose we are — children of a Father who delights to give us his kingdom.

The kingdom is not something we earn by doing enough good deeds or by being perfectly disciplined disciples. It is given. Freely. Joyfully. The Father’s good pleasure. The life Jesus is calling us to today — a life of trust, generosity, and readiness — flows from that starting point.

This brings me to a moment I’ll never forget from my last pilgrimage to the Holy Land. We were at the Church of the Beatitudes, a beautiful place perched on a hillside above the Sea of Galilee — the “possible” site of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount.

During the reading of the Sermon on the Mount, we came to Matthew 6:26: “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”

Right at that moment, a gorgeous, green, tropical-looking bird flew out from a hole in a nearby tree. It was almost as if it was cued by heaven itself.

And suddenly, I understood. Jesus’ words were not abstract teaching. They weren’t meant to be reduced to a memory verse or a refrigerator magnet. When he preached, he may have literally been pointing at a bird flying overhead. His disciples could look up and see it.

Later on, when they were anxious or unsure of what to do next, they could recall the moment. They could look up, see another bird, and say to each other: “Remember when Jesus said…?” Those words weren’t just for that day — they would echo, inspire, and uphold them again and again.

That memory connects directly to today’s passage, because right after telling us not to fear, Jesus says: “Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven.”

That’s bold teaching. He doesn’t say, “Once you’ve saved enough and are secure enough, then consider giving.” He says, “Trust your Father enough to let go now.”

We might be tempted to hear this as extreme. Surely, we think, Jesus doesn’t mean we’re supposed to go home, empty the bank account, and give it all away? But remember — Jesus’ focus isn’t on the legalism of exactly how much to sell or give. His focus is on trust.

The call is to live as though our ultimate security is not in what we own but in who owns us. And that means loosening our grip on what we have, so that generosity flows naturally.

Then comes that famous line: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This is more than a nice saying. It’s a spiritual diagnostic. If we want to know where our hearts truly are, we can follow the trail of our time, energy, and money. If our treasure is tied up in possessions and wealth, our hearts will cling to them. If our treasure is in the kingdom — in God’s work of love, mercy, and justice — then our hearts will be there too.

When Jesus talks about treasure in heaven, He’s not talking about piling up “heavenly currency” for the afterlife. He’s talking about investing in the kind of things that already belong to God’s kingdom — compassion, mercy, generosity, service — things that cannot wear out, rust, or be stolen.

Jesus then shifts the image. He says, “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit.” He gives the picture of servants waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet.

There’s an urgency here — not the anxiety of dread, but the eagerness of anticipation. The servants are ready because they are eager to open the door the moment the master arrives.

And here’s the twist: the master comes home and serves them. In the upside-down kingdom of God, the Master himself dresses for service and waits on his servants.

Being ready for the Lord’s coming isn’t about fear of being caught unprepared — it’s about living so openly and generously now that we can greet him with joy whenever he comes.

This readiness doesn’t mean sitting on a hilltop scanning the skies for signs of the Second Coming. It means living faithfully in the ordinary. It means being attentive to the kingdom breaking in today — in acts of kindness, in moments of reconciliation, in opportunities to give and forgive.

The “thief in the night” imagery reminds us: life can change in an instant. We know this all too well. Opportunities to act, to love, to give — they can pass quickly. So we live prepared, not out of paranoia, but out of the conviction that every moment matters.

That bird in the tree at the Church of the Beatitudes was a living sermon. It reminded me that Jesus’ words are not meant to sit on the page like ancient relics. They are living, breathing realities meant to be recalled in the middle of our daily anxieties and decisions.

When we’re tempted to worry about security, the bird reminds us: Your heavenly Father knows your needs. When we feel like holding tightly to what we have, the bird reminds us: You are part of a kingdom where generosity never runs dry. When we wonder if it’s worth living with open hands and open hearts, the bird reminds us: Yes — because the kingdom is already yours.

The life Jesus describes is not easy. It asks us to loosen our grip on wealth and possessions. It invites us to trust God enough to let go of fear. It calls us to live generously in a world that tells us to look out for ourselves first.

But it is also a life of joy, because it is grounded in the promise that God’s kingdom is already ours.

So the next time you see a bird — whether in your backyard, on your walk, or perched in a tree — let it be a reminder of Jesus’ words. Let it remind you that your life is held in the care of a loving Father, that your security is not in your possessions, and that your treasure, if it is in God, will never fail.

And in that freedom, live generously. Live expectantly. Live ready. Amen.