Church signs have always intrigued me and helped me ponder the eternal question of who could think up that stuff? How about this one: “God recycles and all of us came from dust” [think stardust]. One of my favorite signs is “If God had a wallet, would your picture be in it?”
For what seems like forever, Capital One has been pushing their credit cards by asking “What’s in your wallet?”. Or maybe you get those very personal letters like I do: “Dear William Dudley Crawford, did you know that you already qualify for $10,000 credit? By simply completing the enclosed application and returning it, William Dudley Crawford, we will send you your new credit card and $10,000 instant credit.”
How did they get my name? And how do they know enough about me to say I’m good for at least ten grand, even at their exorbitant interest rates? I already have that little piece of plastic with all those numbers and expiration date clearly embossed on its surface. And that wonderful chip and black strip that allows the cashier to zip the details of my purchase to some accounting Wizard of Oz who posts my debt on a giant screen which is constantly being scrutinized by the credit card gods who invented these gadgets to tempt us into an easy-come-easy-go mentality. I like that buy-to-fly card where the more you spend the more travel miles you earn!
Indebtedness aside, we all keep hearing about the expanding credit card debt in this country and world-wide. Some economists claim it’s a necessary evil in a consumer-driven economy like ours. The revenue and jobs created by charge cards justify the over-indebtedness of so many people. And lawyers are benefiting with the significant increase in bankruptcy work.
For the sake of finishing what I started with this creditable conversation, let’s convert the financial issues into a more theological paradigm — like our relationship with God Almighty. Churches talk about “saving” souls, and I’ve known preachers who take “credit” for saving so many in any given year. I’ve talked with lots of people who felt obliged to let me know how they had been “saved”, and how they have been working ever since to earn credits with God in order to get into heaven.
Paul Scherer, great theologian and preacher at Union Theological Seminary in New York a generation ago, gave us a beautiful picture of this God we worship: “Love is a spendthrift, leaves its arithmetic at home and is always ‘in the red’. And God is love.”
The God of the gospels, as best I can make out, is more like a credit card entrepreneur who endows us with the gift of life. God takes stock in the creation and grants us more credit than we give ourselves at times or that we deserve. God’s got our number, our net worth, and understands that we all have an expiration date. And this God is more concerned about how we spend this fortune of grace and mercy than about how nice we’ve been in order to save our own hides. This God seems more impressed by those lives that are spent rather than those who are saved.
Loved that last sentence.