He was one of the richest people in town, but you could easily mistake him for a beggar. He thought people are out to rob the rich so he pretended to be poor. Stingy to the core, he went out in his worn-out clothes. As he walked the town, children sometimes called out “Kanjoos, Kanjoos,” “miser, miser.”

As the years went by, Abdullah took satisfaction in his growing pile of money. One day, with all his money, he bought a huge lump of gold. He dug a hole in the ground near an unused well and buried the gold. He was sure no thief would find that place. Abdullah checked on his treasure daily.

But, can you really keep a hiding place hidden if you look at it every day? Before long, the town was whispering about Abdullah’s mysterious visits to the unused well. It wasn’t long before a curious soul discovered the gold, let out a yell of joy and ran away with the miser’s treasure.

On his next visit, Abdullah found the hole empty. He began howling with grief. He grieved the way people mourn the loss of a loved one.

Finally, a neighbor came forward and asked him to stop it. “You want your gold? Just pick up a heavy stone and drop it in the hole. Pretend it is the gold you lost.”

“How can you make fun of me at a time like this,” cried Abdullah.

The neighbor came close. “I don’t want to hurt you. Even when you had the gold, you never did anything with it other than stare at it. You could do the same with a stone.”

A look of awareness came across Abdullah’s face and he fell silent.

The Psalms in the Hebrew scriptures sing praise for what is more precious than gold, sweeter than honey.

What is precious to you? What fills your heart with awe? Your lips with praise? Your mind with wonder?

It was reported this week that 150 billion stars, much like earth’s sun, blaze throughout the Milky Way. Our galaxy may have 11 billion earth-like planets. Their temperatures are neither too hot or too cold for water to exist. In this just right Goldilocks zone astronomers search for life.

Life is precious. Breath. Heart-beat. All of us breathing, all our hearts beating ~ a song of gladness of praise and thanksgiving.

Morning light. A new day.

Being together…children leading worship, beautiful music, warm greetings, silence shared, stillness we enter together.

Connecting with others is precious, coming out of isolation and giving to one another.

Look at these people. How joyful everyone looks. They stand on the side of love and join with neighbors in support of the Greater Richmond Interfaith Program.

A beautiful thing ~ commitment, passion, joining with the larger community GRIP, CCISCO, Read Aloud, working together for everyone’s right to vote, health care, education, a job, home, a decent meal.

Our care for one another is more precious than gold. People spread the word when someone needs care and support. And there are visits, good wishes, cards and supercards, songs, cheers, meals, rides, hands to hold.

Church member Bob Moore’s beloved partner Jean recently died. Bob attended a hospital’s grief support group. As people, who were grieving like him, spoke around the circle, none of them had a religious community. No one had talked with clergy. He thinks of all those who had come to his and Jean’s home to take turns offering care. All these angels, he calls them, came in and out of their home.

He gives thanks for the cards, the stream of people coming by to show their love.

He wonders, how do people go through illness and loss without such a

community of support?

Love is more precious than gold.

We witness each other’s journeys and learn from one another. What greater treasure is there than learning that Jean Moore in the last days of her life wrote on a slip of paper next to her bed these words: “I forgive you. Forgive me. I love you. Good bye. Thank you.”

When I shared Jean’s words with our son Ben, he said, those must be the most important words for anyone to say to anyone any time.

Jean’s hand written message to all of us, so much more precious than gold.

Church leader Margaret Gudmundsson loved life, but accepted what was happening to her body. She named her approaching death directly to her loved ones. She said she that what she wanted was to be with her family, write letters and emails to let friends know what was happening, maybe watch some junk TV., read a good book, hear beautiful music. When the doctor asked her if there was anything else, she said, Yes, she wanted to pay her church pledge and make her gift to the capital campaign. I’m surprised she didn’t ask the doctor to make one too. She was big on participating and sharing gifts.

A church member had an MRI. Being closed off inside the machine with all its invasive noises isn’t easy. And it’s claustrophobic. What helped her? She says she sang over and over to herself “Spirit of Life.”

Another church member took with her into her surgery a recording of the choir, our choir, singing “May Sun Warm You.”

Such gifts we receive from this community, gifts of healing, gifts of life.

What a joy last Sunday to have children announce they had found all the items on the Scavenger Treasure Hunt of important objects and places in the church buildings. Kids found the plaque honoring members, including Walter Nelson, William and Grace Ulp, Ladd Griffith, Patricia and Walter Ellis.

The kids know which room is named after Edith McGrew and where the lectern is that honors theologian Bernie Loomer and church leader Martha Helming. They know where to find the mosaic peace dove.

They know this house as their own.

Last Sunday because the story involved slides for the kids to see, Bill asked them to return to sit with their families. A little group of them said, “No.” They occupied the chancel.

They feel so at ease and at home here.

This weekend, and as they so often do, parents met for support and for making family friends.

At vespers Thursday night, a young child was holding a hymnbook upside down and singing.

It’s a gift to be a congregation for all ages.

Being together across the generations is special in a society with so much age segregation.

We are truly blessed to have the sound of babies in our Sunday Services. Poet Mary Oliver says the new baby is all awash with glory and has a cry that says, “I’m here. I’m here.”

What a joy to welcome babies and bless them.

What a gladness to celebrate ceremonies welcoming new members.

What a privilege to commemorate and celebrate the lives of members who die.

Even after their deaths, these members, through the stories told about them, remind us of what is most important. Moments of joy, love, connection.

Miracles happen here.

Some of our children and youth say the highlight of our annual community life is our Bring Your Weight In Food Drive. They witness people’s individual contributions fill a whole truck. Then the kids join with adults who volunteer at the Richmond Emergency Food Pantry to help unload the truck and fill the shelves with good food.

Being seen and heard and listened to is more precious than gold. In chalice circles and small groups each person speaks on a subject like forgiveness and everyone listens. People surprise themselves with their willingness to share and how much they learn from one another.

We are seeing each other into being, encouraging each other’s best selves.

So many moments in Sunday Services touch the heart, lift the spirit. Director of Music Bryan Baker moves gently, quietly over to the piano to play phrases of hymns underneath the words of the meditation and prayer.

Marcelle comes out to sing a solo and, for Marcelle, she’s subdued. So we’re curious. We watch. She sings several verses and then her choir robe is off and the backpack is visible and the walking sticks are swaying. She is climbing every mountain, fording every stream and our hearts cheer!

We have this beautiful house we share.

From this house we flow out into our work places, schools, neighborhoods to proclaim the Love that will not let us go and to make it real in the world.

We give to this community and from it we receive.

We don’t’ bury our treasures in the ground near an unused well. This church is a wellspring, fount of spirit, source of life.

So many gifts. Our gifts are abundant like golden leaves across the ground, like orange persimmons filling the trees, like clear, unending sky, vast and open sky. So many riches.

Sometimes it’s difficult not to feel guilty about life’s gifts. For millions a little shelter would be an important gift. Millions hear not beautiful music but gun shots. A temptation for the privileged is to ease guilt by convincing ourselves we worked hard to earn our gifts or that we deserve them. We’re special.

Or go the other direction and plunge ourselves into guilt.

Pretending we don’t have gifts dishonors them. Hoarded or buried gifts die and do nobody any good. Gifts that we cannot or do not pass on lose all their power.

We are here to grow more grateful, more generous, more loving.

Receive all gifts with gratitude. Share your gifts generously.

There’s no reason to hoard or hide your gifts. There’s so much talent and goodness here.

Pass blessings on.

May you know how precious you are, how beautiful, how worthy of love. In this treasure house, may people surround you and encourage you to be true to who you are, to share your gifts with the world.

May it be so!