The spiritual writer and author, Neale Donald Walsh writes that: “All human actions are motivated at their deepest level by two emotions--fear or love. In truth there are only two emotions--only two words in the language of the soul.... Fear wraps our bodies in clothing, love allows us to stand naked. Fear clings to and clutches all that we have, love gives all that we have away. Fear holds close, love holds dear. Fear grasps, love lets go. Fear rankles, love soothes. Fear attacks, love amends.”
Today’s passage from Luke 12:32-40 follows on from last week’s warning against greed. I personally found last weeks parable very challenging and unsettling (and maybe you did as well). Today’s passage and reflection I hope can help us to come to a deeper understanding.
In our passage today Luke describes Jesus saying the following: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” And in those words Jesus is inviting us to move from living a life rooted in fear, to a life overflowing abundantly with love.
There is a deep tenderness in this verse. Jesus speaks not to the powerful, not to the secure, but to the vulnerable. The “little flock.” Those who feel small in a world that often feels big and overwhelming (and indeed that can and often does include those who come across as rich and powerful – they too can often feel vulnerable).
“You do not need to be afraid”. Why? Because something has already been given to you. The Kingdom, God’s realm of peace, love, and freedom, is not a reward to be earned. It is a gift to be received.
But let’s be honest, we are afraid. Many of us live with an undercurrent of fear and anxiety that shapes our lives more than we’d like to admit. And include myself here as one who is often beset by anxiety – and that includes financial anxiety.
And we try to soothe our anxiety in a variety of ways, but one of the primary ways it by accumulating:
If I can just have enough in the bank, I’ll be okay. If I can secure that job, buy that house, invest wisely enough, win that Lotto… then I’ll feel secure. But the trouble is, the anxiety doesn’t really go away. It just shifts:
Now I worry about losing what I have, or that it still won’t be enough. And so, like the rich fool in the parable just before this passage, we build bigger barns, trying to make ourselves feel safe and secure on the inside. But our souls remain restless, anxious and afraid.
But the radical insight of Jesus is that true security and peace lie elsewhere. Peace is an inside job. What Jesus offers here is a kind of spiritual jolt, a piercing insight that flips the script of how we typically seek peace. He’s not offering a financial strategy or economic advice. He’s pointing to a different kind of security altogether. “Sell your possessions and give to the poor... Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out... For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
This isn’t just about charity. It is in fact about inner liberation. Jesus is pointing to the truth that real freedom doesn’t come from having more—it comes from needing less. Because when you need less, you’re not owned by your possessions. When you no longer seek your identity in what you accumulate, you begin to awaken to something deeper, something more enduring.
And here is where the perennial wisdom of the spiritual traditions helps us deepen our understanding.
As Aldous Huxley speaks of in his book The Perennial Philosophy, the heart of all genuine spirituality is the realization that we are not isolated, separate beings. Beneath the surface of our lives, behind our name, our history, our achievements, lies a deeper truth: We are sparks of the Divine, expressions of the Eternal, part of the great Oneness that holds all things together.
An illustration that the Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh uses is that of the Ocean and the Waves. The ocean is vast, expansive and enduring, and a wave by comparison is a small temporary movement on the surface of the ocean. In the flow of birth, life and death, we often think of ourselves like waves, and it makes us feel small, vulnerable and anxious… we know the wave is temporary. It may be beautiful, but it’s little life-span rapidly comes to an end. And so as waves on the surface of the ocean, we feel anxious, vulnerable and afraid and we try our best to make ourselves feel secure. But all the time we forget that the wave is not separate from the Ocean. We have hidden depths. The wave is in fact the ocean. It is simply the ocean in movement. And from this perspective, the wave in fact has nothing to fear, for our truest identity is that we all are in fact simply the ocean in movement.
This is what Jesus is pointing to when he speaks of the kingdom. It’s not just a future reality. It’s a spiritual dimension here and now, within us, around us. And once we awaken to it, the fear that drives our need to accumulate begins to dissolve.
And until we awaken to that deeper identity, the ocean depths that lie within us, we will forever chase peace in all the wrong places—trying to smother our fear beneath blankets of outer security that never quite does the trick.
And that’s what Jesus is pointing to when he uses the language of being awake and ready with our lamps lit. This is not about paranoia or fear of judgment. They are an invitation to spiritual wakefulness.
He’s saying: Stay awake to what’s real. Don’t be lulled into sleep by the illusions of wealth or the distractions of the world. Be ready—not for an external disaster—but for the next moment of Divine grace. Be ready to see with new eyes, to live from your true centre.
And so the passage today is not a command to become poor, or an attempt to win God’s favour by giving to charity. It’s not a guilt trip about possessions. It’s an invitation to let go of the lie that our true security is external. It’s a call to return home to the inner truth of who we are in God. It’s an awakening to an inner peace (what Jesus calls the Kingdom) that cannot be taken from us, because it doesn’t come from circumstances—it comes from within, a gift that has already been given.
I guess the question might be – what is one practical thing can I do to begin to let go and relax and begin to access the kingdom within, the great ocean depths of our being that lie beneath us. What I might suggest is a prayer experiment: For the next week, say Psalm 23 as a prayer every day. It is so much a part of our culture that you probably have most of it memorised already. Try to say it from memory if you can. And I might suggest saying it twice over… the first time to gather your attention and the second time to really feel the words. And as the words become a prayer feel the invitation contained within those words to let go into a deeper trust, to feel your life beginning to reconnect to a much bigger reality. To feel what that feels like to imagine yourself held and connected to the deeper Wisdom of Life itself – that Great Mystery which in our Christian tradition we refer to by the name or the word God.
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not [a]want.
2 He makes me to lie down in [b]green pastures;
He leads me beside the [c]still waters.
3 He restores my soul;
He leads me in right paths
For His name’s sake.
Even, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will [d]dwell in the house of the Lord
[e]Forever.
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