Enoughness

 Proverbs 11:24-26

Some give freely yet grow all the richer;
    others withhold what is due and only suffer want.
A generous person will be enriched,
    and one who gives water will get water.
The people curse those who hold back grain,
    but a blessing is on the head of those who sell it.

Towards the end of her book The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World, Robin Wall Kimmerer asks,  “What if scarcity is just a cultural construct, a fiction that fences us off from a better way of life?”

Now—a quick confession before I get into it: I’m in a book club with some friends, and The Serviceberry happens to be the book chosen for this round, so yes, I am opportunistically killing two birds with one stone by re-reading it (I read it already back it in November, it’s a short book), and using it as the inspiration for this sermon. But I promise you, I would have used it regardless. I thought of it immediately upon reading and picking our scripture passage for this Proverbs sermon series; it really complements the words that Rev. Bob Mantley just read (thank you) perfectly.

The Serviceberry is about the dream, the goal of moving away from our hyper-capitalist, exploitative, extractive economy and creating and maintaining a reciprocal gift-giving economy in place, or at the very least, alongside of our market economy; and she uses the lifecycle and abundance of the serviceberry and the cycles of the natural world to demonstrate this possibility. She writes:

This pail of [serviceberries] represents hundreds of gift exchanges that led up to my blue-stained fingers: the Maples who gave their leaves to the soil, the countless invertebrates and microbes who exchanged nutrients and energy to build the humus in which a Serviceberry seed could take root, the Cedar Waxwing who dropped the seed, the sun, the rain, the early spring flies who pollinated the flowers, the farmer who wielded the shovel to tenderly settle the seedlings. They are all parts of the gift exchange by which everyone gets what they need.

In our scripture for today, the writer warns of what happens to those who aren’t generous, what happens to those who don’t provide, what happens to those who withhold and hoard. They’re cursed, they suffer want, they are never satisfied. They are not giving, they are not taking part in an ideal reciprocal society. It begins with what seems like a contradiction—those who give freely grow richer; those who withhold suffer want. But just as Kimmerer describes the cycles of the natural world, in which things are given and received, in which things die and then assist in new growth, when we humans give freely, we are rewarded; we don’t give to be rewarded, but we simply are. We are rewarded, not necessarily with material things—it doesn’t say anything about what kind of riches those who give are in turn given—but we are rewarded in relationships. We are rewarded in community. We are rewarded in warmth and kind words, with love and with mutual respect, support, and trust.

But in a market economy, in one in which we earn, we buy, and we receive, we don’t get this kind of camaraderie. We don’t get this kind of warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from exchanging gifts of food or even just pleasantries and words. And worse yet, in our market economy, scarcity must be manufactured for this system to work. “The scarcer the commodities,” Kimmerer notes, “the higher their cost and thus greater the revenue.” In our passage for today, when it’s written that those “who hold back grain” will be cursed, this is likely referring to not just hoarding grain for themselves, but actually delaying giving it or selling it until it can fetch a better price. This is about someone manufacturing scarcity to line their own pockets. And sadly, this is all-too relevant today, especially since the pandemic, when demand for basic goods skyrocketed, so prices did as well— and most normal folks haven’t really felt much relief since then, because even has the world has gone back to some semblance of normal, the cost of living really hasn’t. There’s a popular term and theory for this—“greedflation,” the theory that corporations have kept their prices high since the pandemic simply because they can; there’s another term, “shrinkflation,” in which corporations decrease the size or amount of their goods in a package, but keep the price the same—all examples of this manufactured scarcity, this sneaky and cruel way to take advantage of crises and by price-gouging consumers—by price gouging people. They are all examples of “withholding what is due;” of withholding goods and necessities that people should be entitled to.

We live on a planet that produces everything we need, as long as we care for it. We live on a planet that gives us everything we need, as long as we respect it, as long as we are good stewards of the land. There’s no reason not to think that as long as we take care of each other, our fellow humans, that we will be cared for in return. Maybe that seems a little idealistic, a little naïve— and one can have debates about human nature, from a religious perspective, our sinfulness, or from a Darwinian perspective, our selfishness when it comes to self-preservation and survival of the fittest.

But we have free will. We have the ability to choose the right path, as difficult as that may be in this deeply broken world. One thing Kimmerer says in her book that really hit me is, “I’m not willing to give scarcity such a prominent role.” I wonder if this way of thinking can change the manufactured consumer in each of us. I wonder if this way of thinking can help to transform us into the wise and generous person our scripture passage for today calls us to be. I wonder if we can work to appreciate the abundance of what this earth gives us; I wonder if we can realize that abundance is truly possible.

“One who gives water will get water,” says the second half of verse 25. In The Serviceberry, Kimmerer writes of a spring near her home, where she drinks this fresh water freely, looking at it for what it is, as a gift from the earth; to us, perhaps, a natural gift from God. “It seems absurd to me,” she writes, “that someone could own water, a free gift that falls like proverbial manna from heaven. Could you sell manna without spiritual jeopardy? I don’t think so.” She goes on to say, “When something moves from the status of gift to the status of commodity, we can become detached from mutual responsibility.” If we’re detached from that mutual responsibility, we no longer have an inclination to think about the source of that water, to think about how to respect that water, and give back to its source. And our proverb today is pointing out just that—if we give freely, we will be rewarded. If we give water, we will get water. If we provide, we will be blessed. And I say provide, because a better translation for verse 26 is more likely “…a blessing is on the head of the providers,” rather than “those who sell.” And now let me reiterate—we don’t give with the ulterior motive to receive. Last week we talked about authenticity, and the fact that you can’t fake it; and that authentic connection will beget more authentic connection, will beget more mutual trust and relationships. It is in this same way that Kimmerer’s belief in reciprocity and a gift-giving economy works; the same way that our passage from proverbs today tells us that those who are generous, provide and give freely are blessed; those who hoard and price-gouge are cursed.

It certainly may not seem like those who are hoarding and price-gouging are cursed—they’re the ones in control, after all. But I have to wonder if the cursing is what they are bringing upon everyone, and upon the earth. Sure, they can hide out in bunkers, they can plan to colonize Mars, but is it really winning if all that we love is destroyed? Is it really worth it if their children have to flee this planet because of what they’ve done? Because they’ve extracted everything they could and created scarcity from natural abundance? As Kimmerer asks, “When an economic system actively destroys what we love, isn’t it time for a different system?”

We may not be able, in any of our lifetimes, to completely overthrow the current extractive and exploitative economy under which we live; but we can find small ways to practice reciprocity and gratitude alongside our consumerist culture we’re forced to be a part of. We can refuse to let scarcity have a prominent role in our lives. We can take a step back from the fear and from the greed of privatization of water, of food, of things that should be human rights— take a step back and just look at the beautiful, life-giving creeks and brooks that wind their ways around this very town; see the bees pollinating the high-summer goldenrod along the roads, carrying it from place to place; wander the woods as find blackberry brambles in the most surprising places, take and enjoy the tartness; visit the library; visit the food shelf. These are all examples of a gift-giving economy. These are all examples of what is possible.

I’ve relayed this quote in a sermon before, but back in 2014 the science fiction author, Ursula K. Le Guin, in a speech for the National Book Foundation said, “We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable — but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings.” This is that fact Kimmerer is hoping we will believe. This is what I hope we can trust to be true. This is what this passage today, what our faith is telling us— that we can be blessed in this world, if we bless one another—that we will be blessed in this world, if we give back, if we respect each other and this land God gave us, if we give thanks and gratitude for all that we are given by our God on this earth.

A world not motivated by scarcity and selfishness seems unimaginable right now. A world in which we take only what we need to without having to worry if or when we’ll run out of resources seems like a pipe dream. “Recognizing ‘enoughness,’” Kimmerer writes,

is a radical act in an economy that is always urging us to consume more. Data tell the story that there are “enough” food calories on the planet for all 8 billion of us to be nourished. And yet people are starving. Imagine the outcome if we each took only enough, rather than far more than our share. The wealth and security we seem to crave could be met by sharing what we have.

So I ask you, as this Summer winds down, as our garden tomatoes ripen; as our zucchini and cucumber plants burst with abundance, let us give thanks; let us imagine what is possible by practicing gratitude for all we are given, by sharing the natural gifts of this world, and by recognizing that we already have all that we need, as long as we slow down, and take only what we need.

So give freely and grow richer—rich in relationships with one another; the generous will be enriched—enriched  in community; a blessing will be on the head of those who provide—a blessing in spirit, and in heart. And may we collectively refuse to give the myth of scarcity a prominent role in our lives. Amen.