11th
Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, August 4, 2013
Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23; Psalm 49:1-11; Colossians
3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21
Sermon
preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church
When I was thinking about what to
major in when I went to college, my father advised me to go into something that
would make me a living. He didn’t much
care what that was, as long as when I got out of college, I had a fair chance
of finding a job and being able to support myself. Initially, I think I’ve told you all before,
I was accepted at college in a pre-forestry program. I wanted to work in the outdoors, preferably
in the woods or the water. Purdue had a
fine forestry program, but being a park ranger (my ultimate goal) did not seem
like a profession that would produce a living wage upon graduation. My father lived at a time when “work” wasn’t
about personal fulfillment or “fun”. It
was nice if you enjoyed your work, but that regular paycheck was about
supporting your family. It meant your
family had dinner on the table every night, and you had money to buy necessities,
as well as to provide opportunity. It
paid for anything “fun” after your expenses were met. Regular income provided
both security and freedom.
