Millstones

Last week I saw the movie “Millions.” It’s a quiet little British film about two young brothers who fall into possession of a duffle bag full of stolen money. 9-year-old Anthony, the practical and worldly one, is anxious to spend the money on creature comforts which will benefit them directly. 7-year-old Damian, who is deeply religious and has visions of historical church saints, believes the money is a gift from God and must be given to the poor. He sets about doing just that, much to the vexation of his older brother, who clutches their new-found fortune all the more tightly. All this is set against a backdrop of the British pound being converted to the euro within a few weeks, which means that they must do something immediately or it will all become worthless. This is a moving story of opposing world views juxtaposed in the hearts and lives of two children. As they struggle with the blessing and responsibility of their find, they end up learning that true wealth has very little to do with money. I highly recommend this movie and believe it is still playing in theaters, at least those showing foreign films. Please see it … and take a friend! Now, with my movie review out of the way, I want to share the poem I wrote in response to the film and what spiritual lessons jumped out along the way.

Now, to correct a common misquote, money is not of itself evil. However, in 1 Timothy 6:10 the Apostle Paul writes, “For the love of money is a root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.” In short, there’s nothing inherently wrong with money, but our desire of it causes all kinds of trouble in our lives. Besides simply wanting more stuff, which has its own problems, we as a society live under the veil of two huge misnomers about money. First, that it will make us happy. And second, that it offers us security in direct proportion to the quantity we posses. From a worldly or humanistic perspective, it seems to make perfect sense. However, if you believe that there is a God and a heaven and a hereafter, then gain in the present world counts for naught. If our measly seventy years on this earth (if that) is merely a dress rehearsal for a spiritual eternity, the implications of that world view should extend into every area of our lives. This is especially true in the area of personal finances because it acts as an experiential extension of the state of our hearts. In the gospel of Matthew he wrote, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” How profound the apostle’s words are, for he recognized that not only does our money betray the state of our hearts, our use of it affects the trajectory of our future lives … and not merely the short term of our earthly lives, but the eternal portion thereof as well. That is why the bible speaks so often and so liberally on the subject of finances, as it seems to be a lightening rod for both who we are and who we will become. The most difficult thing to understand and accept about God’s economy is the concept of treasure in heaven. God makes it clear in the New Testament that the things of this world are temporary and will pass away, essentially being burned up like so much chaff. While that which we invest in God’s kingdom, and for His good purpose, becomes treasure in heaven. It is as an investment … the ultimate retirement plan, if you will. Until we understand the principle of treasure in heaven, we can never hope to be considered financially successful in God’s economy. This is just one more area in our earthly lives where no amount of comfort, security or pleasure in this life could offer as much upside potential as the kind of investment which pleases and honors the Lord and Creator of the universe. In the end, all that we accomplish or posses here will pale in comparison to the six words that every human being should hope to hear at the great judgment which await us all at the end of this earthly life: “Well done, good and faithful servant!” With all that in mind, it must be understood that our possessions are far more than blessings from God. They constitute an obligation, a responsibility. God blesses us in order that we might convert such currency into heavenly treasure. In fact, God only counts it as blessing to the extent that we give it away. Our earthly treasures are actually millstones hung upon our necks, the weight of which can plunge us into darkness if we are unwilling cast them upon the waters of God’s greater purpose. And in His infinite wisdom, he left the choice up to us for He is most honored by our choice to freely give back what He has so graciously blessed us with. It’s all a question of entitlement. Does it belong to God, or is it ours? If it’s His, and He’s merely loaning it all to us, than we have an obligation to pay Him back the principle in good stewardship and interest in the form of lives well-lived. That’s how I see the whole thing. Mind you, I struggle as much as anyone with trying to live the life we are called to, but we must muddle through as best we can. Perhaps, before it’s too late, we may learn the same lesson as the two young protagonists in the movie I so highly recommend: that true wealth has very little to do with money … and everything to do with eternity.

Millstones
All these years, as I’ve scraped and scrambled
Ever longing for just a bit more
I thought money could solve my problems
Now, I’m not nearly as sure as before
For all I have counted as blessing
At least in the material way
Seems to me now, but a millstone
Hung about my neck today
And the weight of it feels a burden
Perhaps men should not have to bear
For each thing I purchase requires
Additional payments, insurance, repair
And I fear the life we are called to
May not be one of prosperity
But simpler lives, in which blessing
Is measured in terms of our charity
And what of this millstone we carry?
How can we ever be free?
Since I realize all my possessions
Amount to responsibility
For all that I gather around me
Serves but to glorify me today
And God only counts it as blessing
Once it has been given away
By Frank Carpenter ©