Lagom Living
(Ecc.1:2; 2:21-23; Col.3:1-5, 9-11; Lk.12:13-21)
There’s always something interesting to learn from other cultures. The Swedes, for example, have a very sensible concept they call Lagom.
Lagom basically means ‘just the right amount.’ It means knowing when enough is enough, and aiming for balance and moderation rather than constantly seeking more.
It’s the contented feeling you get when you have everything you need to be comfortable, including somewhere to live, something to eat, enough money and friends to get by, and being happy with that (Prov.30:8-9).
The idea of Lagom apparently comes from the Vikings, and from the expression ‘Lagom är bäst’, which means ‘The right amount is best.’ The Vikings used to pass mead around in a bowl or horn and each person had a sip, making sure everyone got their fair share.
Now, contrast that with the way many people live today. Many people have far more than they will ever need, and yet they’re still not satisfied.
There’s a word for this. It’s greed. Greed is craving something you like, when you really don’t need it. It’s about trying to get more of what you want, in a world where there’s never enough for everyone.
This worries Jesus. In fact, 16 of his parables mention money, wealth or material possessions. Why? It’s because our relationship with wealth says a lot about our priorities and our trust in God (Mt.6:21).
In Luke’s Gospel today, Jesus is teaching a crowd of people when a man calls out to him, ‘Master, tell my brother to give me a share of our inheritance.’ He has been fighting over this money and wants Jesus to adjudicate.
In those days rabbis gave legal judgements on a whole range of civil, criminal and religious questions. But this time Jesus doesn’t want to get involved. Instead, he tells the parable of a rich man who’s had a great harvest and plans to build bigger barns to store his new wealth. He wants to spend it all on a life of pleasure.
Today, many people would admire this man’s success, and yet Jesus calls him a fool. Why? It’s because the only thing he cares about is his wealth and the pleasure it gives him.
He doesn’t realise that everything comes from God, and that God expects us all to use what we have for the benefit others as well as ourselves (Eph.4:28).
And importantly, this man has forgotten about time. He dies soon afterwards and has to account for himself before God (Dt.16:16-17).
When we think about it, this story really isn’t about money. It’s about how we choose to live our lives. It’s not wrong to be wealthy, but it is wrong to be selfish with what we have, especially when it means that others go without.
In his book Balaam’s Donkey, Michael Casey writes, ‘What I want for myself involves my denying it to others, since there is not enough for everyone. But there is irony here. As the Irving Berlin song reminds us, “After you got what you want, you don’t want it.” We move on to the next thing.’
He continues: ‘You might recall that Ethan in John Steinbeck’s The Winter of our Discontent concludes that you can never have enough money; you either have no money or not enough. And wasn’t it the Beatles who sang, “Money can’t buy me love?” Greed remains hungry even when the monster is fed. Meanwhile, having acquired what we wanted, we worry about losing it, and if that should happen, we grieve over its loss. The moment of bliss is brief indeed.’ [i]
There is something very sensible about Lagom living, and striking the right balance in all aspects of our lives. At the end of the day, we only need enough. If we have too much, it means that someone else may be suffering.
Let’s close with a story.
A pastor was invited to the home of a wealthy man in Texas. After the meal, the host took him to a spot where they could get a good view of his land.
Pointing to the oil wells, he boasted, ‘I used to have nothing. Now, all you can see here is mine.’ Then looking in the opposite direction at his sprawling fields of grain, he said, ‘That’s all mine.’ Turning east toward his cattle, he bragged, ‘They’re also mine.’ Then pointing to a huge forest in the west he beamed, ‘That’s all mine, too.’
He paused, expecting to be congratulated on his success. But the pastor simply placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, pointed towards heaven and asked ‘How much do you have in that direction?’
The man thought for a while and then confessed, ‘I’ve never thought of that.’
[i] Michael Casey, Balaam’s Donkey, Liturgical Press, Collegeville MN, 2018:188.