Matthew 6:25-33
Sermon: On being “needy" (Thanksgiving Sunday sermon)
Recently, I heard about an influential sermon. I was not able to find out exactly when it was written (probably in the 60's), but it was written by Arthur McGill, a Canadian-born American theologian and philosopher. Sallie McFague, a highly-respected American feminist theologian, best known for her writing on caring for the earth as if it were God’s body, quoted McGill’s message at length in her book. My husband Min-Goo read McFague’s book, told me about this sermon, and passed me its full text to read, when I expressed my curiosity.
To pick one highlight to share with you, this sermon has great insight about being “needy.” Since I came to Canada, my acquisition of English and how I use certain words and phrases has come from observing how you speak and use these words to describe people and situations. I learn English most effectively through the interactions I have with people here. One thing I’ve noticed is how you say “needy” and what you mean by that. For example, “She’s a needy person.” “We are not a needy congregation.” The impression I get from that sort of usage is that being needy is not a positive thing. Being needy means the person or the community are unstable, lacking what they are supposed to have or must have, needing attention, needing care, needing constant supervision, needing money, property, or inner security. Sometimes when we perceive someone or a group to be needy a red flag is raised, because from past experience or from fear or prejudice, depending on the context, we sense that the inclusion of the needy individual or the needy group can threaten the harmony, peace and order we try to maintain in our own lives, home, society, church – things that take effort to keep and enjoy, even in the company of good friends and family. We have reason to worry that needy people might take away our time and our money, and our joy.
But if we look at ourselves, it is hard for many of us, including myself, to admit and recognize and humbly acknowledge that we are needy, too. I am needy. I was needy yesterday. I was needy last week. I have been needy. I have those needs deep inside which I am hesitant to show to others. I am reluctant to open up and tell other people in my life that I need affection, love, care, intimacy, comfort, touch. In addition to the fact that these needs are considered private in our culture, we grew up with the message that being needy is not good, something shameful, something wrong, something to bury, something to hide, something to judge. People have various kinds of needs, at different levels, in different contexts. But often we are afraid to tell others that we have them. Is being needy necessarily bad? Is it always negative? In some cases it is. We have to be aware of the possible consequences of having someone negatively needy who can endanger the well-being of the community and we must protect those individuals who are vulnerable in those situations.
However, McGill’s sermon, the sermon that had such a profound impact on me, invited me to look at need and being needy in a new, revealing light – to see need as a positive attribute, a pure expression of our function as followers of Christ. I take comfort from that viewpoint. I wonder how a new insight about being needy and admitting our needs might move us to give our thanks to God, to the community, to our neighbours, to our family members, to each other, in a different language — in the language of the Kingdom of God. What do you give thanks for? Can “need” and our being needy be something we give thanks for?
In the sermon, McGill juxtaposes the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Evil. We see how the conflict between Jesus and our world arises.
In this world, who we are, our identity, often consists in being able to draw a circle around some bit of reality, and possess that bit of reality as our own (and no one else’s). In other words, our identity depends on what we have. Our identity is only as secure as our having, our possessing something. In this world, to be is to have. To let go is to die. Even love. Our life journey is a teacher that teaches us with “revolutionary patience” that true love is not about possessing. Loving is not the same as possessing those whom we love: our family, our children, our group, our community, our church.
We can see the absolute opposition between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Evil. In the kingdom of God, love is defined by letting go. Letting go of one another, giving of what we have, giving away what is essentially our own is how we become real. However, in the kingdom of Evil, love is an expression of our “having”, our possessing, not letting go. Now, I quote McGill directly: “Philanthropy is a typically evil form of love. You give what you do not need — surplus money, uncommitted time, extra blood.” To a person like me, (not a generous giver. I repent on that, my Evil, and try to change my behaviour to nurture a true sense of security.) those who give generously through philanthropy inspire my admiration. However, I also get what McGill is saying. In the kind of philanthropy which he challenges, giving is still grounded in the security of having. However, what Jesus, and Jesus’ crucifixion, teaches us is that living by the power of God means really letting go — letting go to another, giving what we have, what is essentially our own.
In this world, the kingdom of evil, which McGill juxtaposes with the kingdom of God, need means we lack. We lack adequate possessions. Need is what we have when what we have is unsatisfactory. I need because I lack. In this light, need is depicted as being negative. If we are needy, we are wrong. We are less adequate. We have a problem or are a problem. Therefore, (and I find the following logic thought-provoking) Love in the kingdom of evil seeks to remove need. Because need or being needy is inconvenient, uncomfortable. For example, Love in the kingdom of evil seeks to remove need from the poor, seeks to give them the possessions they need so that they are no longer needy.
But in the kingdom of God, need is the ground of love. I really want to ponder with you about what it means to acknowledge need, embrace need, understand need and being needy in the light of the kingdom of God, because in the kingdom of God need is the ground of love. Need is not to be removed; need is to be acknowledged, and to be included.
Clearly seeing, recognizing and therefore humbly acknowledging that we have needs, our own needs, is transformative. We may struggle to find the right language, right word, right poem, right prayer that can help us to truly understand and befriend our own needs — emotional, spiritual, mental, physical or other needs. We might have buried them not to see, not to feel, not to bring up to the table, because we know that “needs” are unwelcome. We feel insecure, afraid of being judged or judging. However, seeing needs, acknowledging needs, learning about needs, our own needs, will open us up to see our ultimate condition of interdependence in God, and to see the needs of our neighbours. Need is what makes giving authentic and significant. It is the soil of life. To give is to lose, to become needy calls forth giving from one another.
In the Kingdom of God, we satisfy others’ needs, not remove their needs. Any effort to remove another’s need is really an effort to get that person off our backs, so that we do not have to bother ourselves about them anymore. For the same reason, we should embrace our needs. We shouldn’t remove them, bury them, or make them obsolete, because understanding our needs and embracing them are the path to the truth of ourselves and to the truth of each other’s lives. Do not replace our needs and one another’s needs, with something else. Use the need and make an occasion for “expenditure for love and therefore for life.”
We are what we generate in one another. Our giving is our being. Today, on this Thanksgiving Day, I invite you to give thanks to God for our needs. What do you need? What do others need? Needs are our window. Need humbles us. We don’t need a big theory or Ego to simply acknowledge our needs. As well, needs can be the pathway between two houses, two beings, two worlds to meet (as I shared in the story of “wampum — friendship belt” in the Children’s Time.) We can welcome and accept one another on the pathway of our needs.
I also ask: Was I a needy person yesterday? Yes. Am I a needy person today? Yes. I will continue to be needy. I celebrate that I have needs; they humble me. I have an insatiable longing for care, prayer, love, honesty from others. How about you? Have you been needy? Have you seen people who were needy? My question is, then, what are we going to do with our own being needy and others being needy? Consider needs as seeds, and plant them in the soil of love, with the spirituality of peace, therefore, in the soil of life. You will see the first-fruits in the following Spring. Amen.
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