Body

Amiddle-class woman from Virginia was visiting her sister’s home in Carmel, a modern, walled estate overlooking the Pacific. The sister’s family owned six new cars: She and her husband each owned two and each of the two children had been given one apiece. In the back of the property was a large garden, a swimming pool, a hot tub under its own gazebo and enough patio furniture for a large party. The sister had her own domestic employees: a yard and pool keeper, a maid and a weekday cook. Within the first half hour of her visit, the sister from Virginia whispered in awe to her sister, “I want what you have.”

The tenth commandment is not a law against desire as such. It does not command: “You shall not covet.” It commands: “You shall not covet (what is) your neighbor’s.” It casts a dark shadow on the phrase, “I want what you have.” What belongs to others is God’s gift to them. It is what God has blessed their lives with. To covet, then take, what God has given to others, is to deprive them of the blessings God intended for them.

David deprived Uriah of his love for, and marriage to, Bathsheba. Ahab deprived Naboth of his vineyard and his life. A man would ask Jesus, “Bid my brother divide his inheritance with me.” James would write to his own church, “You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.”

A teacher in a children’s school in Great Britain conducted an experiment. She gave each of ten children a toy and left the room. In an adjoining room, behind a one-way mirror, she videotaped their behavior for fifteen minutes. Within sixty seconds, two were pulling at other’s toys and one child greedily collected all toys laid aside by these two. At the end of fifteen minutes, three children had two toys each, three children had no toys, two children had different toys than they had to begin with, and two were huddled in corners, clutching their first toys and warily watching the others.

“I want what you have,” said the Virginia woman to her sister. Compare this desire with the homework assignment of seven-yearold Nathaniel, who was to write about what a perfect life would be and draw a picture of the things he would have in that perfect life. Nathan drew a house and wrote “my home” beneath it. He also drew himself with his dog. Next he drew a checkerboard with faces inside each square and wrote “my friends” beside that. Next, the essay: “A perfect life for me is the life that I’m in right now. Because I have a lot of friends and have a big family, too. I do not need a perfect life.”

Lastly, coveting is an act of theological doubt that does not believe God’s generosity is reliable. Hear again translations of Psalm 23: The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not be in want. T he Lord is my shepherd; I have everything I need. You prepare a table before me…my cup overflows.

Consider again your life and all that God has bestowed upon you. You will recognize that, indeed, every perfect gift has come down from the Father. You will be contented because you are wealthy, and wealthy because you are contented. You will have no other gods before the one, true God, and you will not covet. When others see such faith as yours, they will think to themselves, “I want what you have.”