Leviticus 25:23-28: a reflection

23“‘The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine; for you are strangers and live as foreigners with me. 24In all the land of your possession you shall grant a redemption for the land. 25“‘If your brother becomes poor, and sells some of his possessions, then his kinsman who is next to him shall come, and redeem that which his brother has sold. 26If a man has no one to redeem it, and he becomes prosperous and finds sufficient means to redeem it, 27then let him reckon the years since its sale, and restore the surplus to the man to whom he sold it; and he shall return to his property. 28But if he isn’t able to get it back for himself, then what he has sold shall remain in the hand of him who has bought it until the Year of Jubilee. In the Jubilee it shall be released, and he shall return to his property.

In the laws about the land, God gives a striking reason why the land could not be sold permanently: it belongs to him, and the people are only tenants, strangers and sojourners with him. The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, God says, for the land is mine; for you are strangers and live as foreigners with me. The land the people held was not, in the deepest sense, their own; it was God's, and they held it as tenants, strangers, and sojourners with him. This shaped how they were to hold it, not as absolute owners with unlimited rights, but as stewards of what belonged to God. This shows that what we have is God's, and we hold it as stewards, not absolute owners. The land is God's; we hold it as tenants, not owners. What we have is finally God's, held as stewards. We are strangers and sojourners with God, not absolute owners. Hold your possessions as a steward of what belongs to God.

Notice the reason God gives, and what it implies. The land could not be sold permanently because, God says, the land is mine; the people are strangers and sojourners with him, tenants of what belongs to God. This reframes their whole relationship to what they held. They were not absolute owners of the land, with unlimited rights to do with it as they pleased; they were tenants, holding as stewards what ultimately belonged to God. This truth extends beyond the land to all we have. In the deepest sense, nothing we have is absolutely our own; it is all God's, and we hold it as stewards, as tenants, as those who are strangers and sojourners passing through. Our possessions, our resources, our very lives are God's, entrusted to us for a time. This changes how we hold them. We can hold what we have as absolute owners, with unlimited rights, grasping and clinging as though it were finally ours; or we can hold it as stewards of what belongs to God, more loosely, mindful that it is his and entrusted to us, ready to use it as he would have us and to release it when the time comes. To hold our possessions as stewards of what is God's, rather than as absolute owners, is the truer and freer way. What we have is God's, held as stewards, not owned absolutely. Hold your possessions loosely, as a tenant of what belongs to God. We are sojourners passing through, stewarding what is God's. Do not grasp what is finally God's as though it were absolutely yours.

That is worth taking to heart, for what we have is finally God's, held by us as stewards and sojourners rather than absolute owners, as God said the land was his and the people were strangers and sojourners with him. We can hold what we have as absolute owners, grasping and clinging as though it were finally ours; but God reminds us that the land, and all we have, is his, held by us as tenants and stewards. It is all God's. Hold your possessions loosely, as a steward of what belongs to God, rather than grasping them as absolutely your own. Hold what you have loosely, as a steward and sojourner of what belongs to God rather than as an absolute owner, as God gave a striking reason why the land could not be sold in perpetuity, that the land is his and the people are strangers and sojourners with him; for the land the people held was not in the deepest sense their own but God's, held as tenants and stewards of what belonged to him, which reframed their whole relationship to it, since they were not absolute owners with unlimited rights but stewards holding what ultimately belonged to God, and this truth extends beyond the land to all we have, since in the deepest sense nothing we have is absolutely our own but all God's, held as stewards and sojourners passing through, our possessions, resources, and very lives entrusted to us for a time, which changes how we hold them, since we can hold what we have as absolute owners with unlimited rights, grasping and clinging as though it were finally ours, or as stewards of what belongs to God, more loosely, mindful that it is his and entrusted to us, ready to use it as he would have us and release it when the time comes, so that to hold our possessions as stewards of what is God's rather than as absolute owners is the truer and freer way.

Lord, in the laws about the land, you give a striking reason why the land could not be sold permanently: it belongs to you, and the people are only tenants, strangers and sojourners with you. The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, you say, for the land is mine; for you are strangers and live as foreigners with me. The land the people held was not, in the deepest sense, their own; it was yours, and they held it as tenants, strangers, and sojourners with you. This shaped how they were to hold it, not as absolute owners with unlimited rights, but as stewards of what belonged to you. Show me the reason you give, and what it implies. The land could not be sold permanently because it is yours; the people are strangers and sojourners with you, tenants of what belongs to you. This reframes their whole relationship to what they held. They were not absolute owners, with unlimited rights; they were tenants, holding as stewards what ultimately belonged to you. This truth extends beyond the land to all I have. In the deepest sense, nothing I have is absolutely my own; it is all yours, and I hold it as a steward, as a tenant, as one who is a stranger and sojourner passing through. My possessions, my resources, my very life are yours, entrusted to me for a time. This changes how I hold them. I can hold what I have as an absolute owner, grasping and clinging as though it were finally mine; or I can hold it as a steward of what belongs to you, more loosely, mindful that it is yours and entrusted to me, ready to use it as you would have me and to release it when the time comes. Take that to my heart, for what I have is finally yours, held as a steward, not owned absolutely. Keep me from grasping what is finally yours as though it were absolutely mine; help me hold my possessions loosely, Lord, as a steward and sojourner of what belongs to you, ready to use them as you would have me and to release them when the time comes.