I wonder how many of us have ever made a treasure map, either for ourselves or for the children in our families? We all know what they look like: there’s a wobbly desert island shape, probably surrounded by waters infested by sea-monsters (or, if you’re lucky, by comely mermaids). The island will have mountainous areas, thick forests and beaches bordered by palm trees. Somewhere in that complex geography will be a small ‘X’. And we all know what that means: it marks the spot where the treasure is buried. All we have to do is find the place and get digging. If we’re lucky, we’ll uncover a chest full of riches. 

This idea of buried treasure has captured peoples’ imaginations for many years. In Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Treasure Island” young Jim Hawkins finds a map in a dead man’s chest and takes a role as a ship’s cabin boy in a thrilling search for the pirate gold. Enid Blyton’s ‘Famous Five’ hunt for treasure closer to home, stashed on Kirrin Island which sounds very like Dorset. And in the film “Paddington 2” the bear, his family and his nemesis, Phoenix Buchanan, go on a search of London – and train trip – looking for a lost fortune.

And treasure hunts aren’t just fictional. In 1979 the artist Kit Williams crafted an 18-carat golden hare inset with ruby, mother-of-pearl and moonstones. He buried it, and published his book “Masquerade”: its intricate paintings held clues which would enable someone to find it. The book sold over a million copies, and it sparked a worldwide hunt for the golden hare. Countless lawns were dug up, fed-up landowners put up signs warning off fortune-seekers, the book was even cited in divorce proceedings. Eventually, after three years, the hare to be found – in a Bedfordshire park – and a huge scandal erupted over whether its discovery was fraudulent. Williams became disillusioned with the whole project: perhaps he had never realised the grip that ‘buried treasure’ could exert on peoples’ imaginations.

If we value something which we haven’t yet obtained, our instinct is to do all we can to get hold of it. In fact it will occupy our thoughts, fill our senses and guide our behaviour and how we choose to spend our time. Our reading Gospel reading asks to see that the most precious treasure of all, the valuables marked by ‘X’ in the universal map of life, aren’t what we might call “worldly wealth” but the riches we gain from doing the work of God’s kingdom. And, unlike Kit Williams’ golden hare, this treasure is not buried or hidden, nor can it be dug up by only one person. On the contrary, it’s freely available to all of us; but we have to completely reassess our life if we are to find it.

So let’s listen to what Jesus says: “Sell your possessions and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys”. And then we come to his punchline: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also”. So is Jesus saying that Christians cannot own anything? As I said last week, that’s what Francis of Assisi thought – but it’s not been the view of most Christians down the centuries. Is that because doing so is simply too difficult for us? Or is it, as one commentator has said, because “interpreting this command as a direct command to all Christians to renounce their possessions is to produce a class of holy paupers [who would] become a liability to their neighbours”. In other words we’d simply become ‘holy scroungers’ – that may be how Buddhist monks in Burma live, but it’s not part of Christianity.

I don’t think that Jesus ever said that private ownership was wrong. After all, he and the apostles had money which they used to buy food and provide for the poor. But he did teach his disciples to make sure they weren’t dominated by material things, as trusting in them could so easily undermine their trust in God and become a fatal barrier to eternal life. Jesus knew that our values guide our actions and he recognised that the desire to get rich (or to acquire more and more “things”) can become the keynote of our lives. Indeed, that’s what the media so often portray as “success”. St. Paul said that “the love of money is the root of all evil”: the problem is that our wills, especially if we are reasonably well-off, are too often governed by it. Meanwhile the poor are ignored or vilified and must go to the food bank to survive.

Before I go on, I’d like us to notice that – as we heard in the story of Frank Wild’s biscuit – our ideas of what’s valuable to us can change with circumstances. At the height of the pandemic we took a fresh look at the people we thought were most valuable to us. So folk whose jobs had been regarded as mundane suddenly became the ‘key workers’ who were keeping life going: delivery drivers, shop workers, NHS staff and others. At the same time we began to cherish every little luxury which made life bearable, such as a nice walk in the park. For a brief period our society looked for different kinds of treasure to the ones we’d been hankering after for years; it felt good but – just look at the pay rises being offered to nurses – it didn’t last.

Now something intriguing – or perhaps disturbing – is going on here. Jesus’ command to sell our possessions and give alms sounds generous and altruistic: we are using our wealth to benefit others. That’s fine. But he continues, “Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven” – now that is totally self-centred and concerned with investing in our future spiritual reward.

So, if we connect those two sentences, we might end up thinking that Jesus said, “Give away your possessions because it will enhance your spiritual credit”. And, if that’s a legitimate reading of the text, it means that we’re not giving because we want to benefit people less fortunate than ourselves, nor because we want to obey God. Rather, it seems to turn our apparent largesse into a selfish grasp for whatever God may give back to us in return. It’s like the company which sponsors a big sporting event because it knows that will give it good publicity which, in turn, will boost sales and increase its profits. What first appears to be charitable generosity is in fact nothing of the kind.

Now I have to say that some Christian preachers have exploited this kind of thinking – and not just by making their listeners think of the spiritual rewards they will receive if they cough up more and more pounds or dollars (often to fund said preachers’ lavish lifestyles). No; these folk go further: using perhaps the parable of the sower they tell their eager disciples that, if they donate generously, then God will give back to them in this earthly life fifty or a hundred times what they have given: what an amazing rate of interest! To me that’s an appalling misuse of Scripture, a despicable scam which preys on poor people who are desperate for a more comfortable life. It is far too common.

It’s quite interesting, I think, to see what Judaism and Islam have to say on this matter – especially as we Christians tend to think of them as religions of “works”, doing good in order to get ourselves to heaven. Well, in the Hebrew language the closest word to philanthropy is ‘tzedakah’ which basically means “justice”. As Judaism developed after Jesus’ time this became used for charitable activity because the rabbis viewed social welfare as an issue of economic and social justice. But tzedakah is more than giving money to the poor: the donor should be sharing their compassion and empathy as well.

However Judaism does teach that donors benefit as much or more from tzedakah than the recipients:  whereas the poor receive material assistance, donors receive the merit of sharing the Almighty’s work. That means that it’s important to give with the correct attitude: to quote Maimonides, the great medieval scholar, “Whoever gives tzedakah to the poor with a sour expression and in a surly manner, even if he gives a thousand gold pieces, loses his merit. One should instead give cheerfully and joyfully, and empasise with his distress”.

Turning now to Islam, we find a very similar word: ‘sadaqah’ – which means voluntary charitable giving, as opposed to ‘zakat’, the obligatory almsgiving which is a basic pillar of the faith. Now sadaqah definitely does include the idea of us receiving a return on investment: Muslims believe that Allah will increase wealth and bring success, both in this life and in the hereafter, to those who give sadaqah. As the Qu’ran says, “Indeed, the men who practice charity and the women who practice charity and [they who] have loaned Allah a goodly loan – it will be multiplied for them, and they will have a noble reward”. So both Judaism and Islam appears to embrace the principle of “giving in order to get back” – and one must ask if they both picked it up, however unconsciously, from this apparent teaching of Jesus.

So is this really what Jesus is saying? Is he saying that we sit lightly to our possessions, that we give away our wealth, in order to improve our diving credit score and secure a good place in heaven? That just doesn’t feel right, does it? No; Jesus isn’t saying that we practice generosity because that will improve our standing before God; what he is saying is that we need to change our focus, to think more about doing the good that God wants us to do and less about seeking to fill our coffers here on earth – which, as we heard last week, we can’t take with us when we die. Yes; God will be pleased if we are radical in our giving and caring; but we don’t do those things in order to please him, we do them because they’re what he asks of us, the right things to do. And they show him that he is the true focus of our life, our treasure. For, as Jesus says elsewhere, we can’t serve both God and mammon.

Today’s Bible passage is difficult, challenging – and honest. It doesn’t pretend that we cease to care for ourselves; indeed it even tells us to “go for it” by seeking wealth that will pay dividends, or getting hold of purses that won’t wear thin and lose our money. That’s actually more sensible than investing in businesses which may fail, buying luxury fabrics which may decay, or bidding for artworks whose value may collapse. Jesus challenges us to fuse together our love of self, our love of others and our love of God by using our assets and possessions in creative ways which help others, please God and benefit ourselves, all at the same time. So perhaps we need to go home, take a look in the garage, the loft or the back of the kitchen cupboard, take out the junk we never use, sell it on eBay, and use the proceeds to help someone in need. That could be a first step: who knows what we might do next? “For where our treasure is, there will our heart be also”.