Thou shalt not Covet
It can be unbearably hot in Jerusalem, so hot that one has to go outdoors searching for some kind of relief, some gentle breeze. David is on his rooftop seeking cool air. The rooftop of the king was the highest place in the city. From David's roof, you could see just about everything in the city. And below him, in plain sight, a beautiful woman was bathing.
It was her time of the month and because of the heat, she decided to bathe on the roof. And she was beautiful. And David wanted her.
One of the ten commandments is this: thou shalt not covet. It comes right alongside thou shalt not steal and thou shalt not commit murder. It is that important. Coveting is more than just wanting, it is when you begin to nurture the want, when you begin to wallow in your desire and listen to it as more than just a passing fancy. To covet is to massage the desire of something that you do not need, something that in fact belongs to someone else. And from the moment that you nurture that desire and take it seriously and obsess about it and give it energy, you have begun to hurt yourself and others.
David covets Bathsheeba. Instead of mastering his desire and saying no to what was not freely given, he begins to think these kind of thoughts:
I deserve her.
I need her.
It's not that bad. It's understandable.
I will not be Ok without her.
And his lust is massaged into a coveting, and from there it is a short step to adultery. From adultery, when she becomes pregnant, David moves on to basically murder her husband by placing him in the frontline of battle. You see, true sin has a snowball effect. One small lie becomes larger and larger until you are wreaking havoc on your life and the lives of others.
And David is so unaware of the horrors that he has committed that he does not even recognize a story that the prophet tells him about his very own actions. He is so wrapped up in his own needs and wants that he cannot see himself clearly. He has become so obsessed with his own needs that he becomes blind to his own sin.
I am grateful to live in this country. I think that it is the best country in the world. When I watch the Olympics, I cry and cheer and laugh and I am so proud of the USA. But as a people, we covet perhaps more than any other people in world history.
Our entire nation is built on desire. Commercials and billboards are designed to get us to want more, to buy more, to actually begin to believe that we need more. You need a big Mac. You need a manicure. My hairdryer broke this week and I said to myself, I need a hairdryer. Then I realized, do I really NEED one or do I just WANT one? Up to 50 years ago, most women did not have them here in America. Most women still do not have them. But buying a hairdrier that I may not need is not coveting. It is unnecessary but it is not directly harmful. But desire can easily slip into covetousness if we begin to think that we need something that will hurt us or something that belongs to another. Our covetousness leads us to believe that we NEED alcohol or drugs or sex or money, when these items should not be ours. That is when we become so wrapped up in our desires that we forget who we really are. That is when temptation becomes covetousness.
What are your true needs and what are your wants? Some of us don't want stuff, what we want is for people to agree with us, to think like us. So we fuss and argue and publish and protest in an effort to get everyone to think like us, when in reality, we do not need that. We become obsessed with the religious right or the liberal left and we spend all our time trying to get the other to think like us. Meanwhile, we lose our integrity in the process. We forget kindness and respect and openness to diversity of opinion. The world is much richer because we disagree. Do you really want to make everyone agree with you?
Or maybe you covet being liked. Many a life has been ruined by that false desire. For trying to get everyone to like you is virtually impossible and you will die trying.
This past week, I spent 5 days at a Trappist Monastery. We ate simply. We did not speak unless we were praying. We even woke up at 4 am to pray at one of 5 prayer services a day. I must admit that it was hard. I felt like sleeping in or dancing or yelling or just missing a service or two. I got mad at the monks for being so serious and thought of rushing out to buy ice cream (I know, I'm such a party-animal!) Late one night, I even watched movie previews on my iPad. But the moments of frustration were worth it, for I began to experience something infinitely richer than ice cream or movies.
I brought few clothes, no hair-dryer, some books. I felt like there was very little standing between me and God, just my own worries and my tempting laptop. I saw a turtle swimming in a pond and could not believe how beautiful he was. I ran outside to watch the rain fall at a coming thunderstorm and it was better than a great movie. I found a richness I have been missing. A richness that I can touch only here, with you at this altar. There was something much better there. And that something was so simple.
Jesus said, I am the Bread of Life. I am everything that you have ever longed for and will ever need. Right here, at this altar, God is giving you EVERYTHING you NEED.
So take your hunger, your lust, your desire for perfection, take your need to be liked, your need to fix the world, your need to always get along and refocus those desires on God and God alone. Until you do that, you will never be fulfilled. Bathsheebas are all over the place in this world, making you think that you must have them, that you cannot live without them. We must learn to master those desires that turn our attention from God and refocus on the bread of life.
What if we stopped coveting and started feasting on the true bread? Then the power of this Cathedral would be truly unleashed and we could change this city for the good. All of us, together. Then we could really live.
- The Very Rev. Kate Moorehead