poverty vs. wealth

I'm not sure why I was thinking about poverty and wealth on the way to work today. Maybe it's all the Lexuses, etc., we drive alongside on our way along Interstate 66. (it's especially satisfying to fly by them on the rare instance when the carpool lane is doing us any good.)

As most of the people who read this blog know, we talked about racial injustice on Sunday, and touched on poverty, as well as other things. Read further thoughts here and here.
I've been doing some thinking over the past few years about Jesus' contention that it would be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God. That eye of a needle may or may not have been a narrow gate in Jerusalem; either way, the point is, it's nearly impossible.

I've never been all that gung-ho about "my career," at least not since high school, when we were all encouraged to know exactly what we were going to do and what college we should go to in order to achieve this. If not overtly encouraged, we were at least asked continuously by well-meaning adults what we wanted to do with our lives. At the time, I wanted to be a veterinarian. That didn't really work out, but that's another story. I was told over and over, so I'd understand, that veterinarians usually didn't make much, and it takes "almost as much school as becoming a doctor." So what? Shouldn't the work be its own reward?
I never wanted to be rich, is my point. Maybe I wanted to be a bit of a martyr; I was never put off of journalism when that later became my goal because of dreaded stories about how undesirable the work shifts would be. (And they were. Now I've got a sweet weekday deal going on. Praise God for that.) I never (obviously!) pursued a career so I could "have it all."
Was I afraid of how I'd handle it if I had "lots of" money? I don't know. I kind of don't want the stress. The temptation. I think I actually fear money, to some degree.
I don't buy lottery tickets because a) it's stupid, and b) I don't want to win. I really don't . I don't want to have to agonize over how best to distribute $50 million. So, okay, the government gets $20 million off the top ... So if I give away half of the rest, can I spend the rest on me me me? That sounds pretty generous, right? Not that I would have any clue how to. And you'd make all kinds of new "friends," and be "famous," if you got all that money. I kind of like the life I have. I don't want the disruption.

So, I was wondering: I'm not in this for the eternal reward, for the record. But -- do we get "points taken off" if we're glad we're not rich, because we suspect we're weak? Would I be able to handle wealth if I had it? How DOES one handle millions of dollars responsibly? What does that look like? What would YOU do with it?

I realize also that I'm richer than some ridiculous percentage of the world's population. So maybe I am one of the rich people.

I was reading an article about Patricia Heaton -- the mom on "Everybody Loves Raymond" -- a few years ago. I think she said she made $6 million a year. She's a Christian, according to that story ... she said, Yes, I tithe. But, what is 10 percent to me? I don't think a tithe should necessarily stop at 10 percent. I think it's meant to hurt a little. To cut into our comfort zone.

Perhaps it just comes down to the parable of the talents. We should do the best with what we have. Pray and trust God to tell us what to do with it, and then follow through.

I'm seeing a parallel here between money and eating. Two things we obsess a lot about. The trouble with kicking a habit of overeating, among other things, is that you have to eat SOMETHING. You can't just quit cold turkey. Like, say, cigarettes -- though I hear that's not easy, either. Wouldn't it be great to not need money? To not have to spend it and budget and worry about it? But it's a "necessary evil." It requires thought and discipline and self-control and, ultimately, dis-ownership of it all in front of God. Wow. No wonder it's not easy.
I'm not sure where to go from here, so perhaps I'll stop.