The subject of possession is one that I find I keep coming to. Beyond the issue of hoarding this world’s goods, I am being confronted by what at all I consider to be valuable. I am starting to question the veneer of earthly treasures, with a growing suspicion that what the whole world considers to be my fortune may not at all be worth anything in Heaven’s books.

A friend jokingly asked me what I think comprises The Ghanaian Dream, the Ghanaian counterpart of the American Dream. Together, we agreed on some of the basic components: at least one self-owned home in a trendy neighborhood in Accra, two cars for the family, sufficient income to afford regular meals at nice restaurants, the ability to shop without too much economy at shops in the Accra/ Westhills Mall, and of course, regular trips outside the country (the more Western the destination, the better).

In pursuit of this dream, most people my age are spending years in academic halls, and thousands of Ghana cedis. Almost every one of my acquaintances in that age bracket is either looking out for, or in the active process of applying for, some visa out of the country in hopes of greener pastures. We are being strategic about saving what we can, making “moves” and hunting down “connections”. Even as we keep one eye on God, the other is wide open, looking for which open doors we can slip through by the skin of our teeth, even if we would need to bend some rules. “The hustle,” as they say, “is real.”

This is why I find Lot so relatable in Genesis 13. Upon the recognition that they could not co-habit with their respective fortunes and loyal herdsmen, Abram and his nephew had some kind of family meeting about the way forward. Definitely, it would include separation; the real issue was how to break up. The Biblical narrator tries to be fair:

And Lot lifted up his eyes and saw that the Jordan Valley was well watered everywhere like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, in the direction of Zoar. (This was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.) So Lot chose for himself all the Jordan Valley, and Lot journeyed east. Thus they separated from each other. Gen. 13:10,11

What I am startled to think to myself is this: Lot was so careful in picking. While he may have been sad to part from his uncle, I can’t help but imagine for him a sort of thrill in the opportunity of finally living his life his way. Here was a chance to make his own decisions, be the master of his fate, and take on life without the baggage of the older generation. Here was a chance to make more out of his life than the seemingly-complacent Abraham, who kept wandering the wilderness as a pilgrim, never arriving at the promised land (Heb. 11:9). Here, Lot could make the right decisions to secure his financial future forever.

So, look at how carefully he weighed the options: doing the research, assessing the options, calculating the pros and cons, tallying up the risks and potentials as he surveyed the east, west, north and south. Finally—intentionally, rationally, common-sensically—he made the choice. He packed his bags and waved farewell, headed towards a place that promised the most return even though God had noted it already for its sin (Gen. 13:12,13).

But I look away (from Lot’s retreating back) to gaze in wonder at Abraham. Right from the beginning of the conversation, he seems so unaffected— “Is not the whole land before you? Separate yourself from me. If you take the left hand, then I will go to the right, or if you take the right hand, then I will go to the left” (Gen. 13:9).

Abraham could have chosen to strive, to demand fairness in the splitting, to insist on more. But here was a man refusing to chase after possession, rejecting the so-very-human temptation to grab things for ourselves, to secure insurance and inheritance, to take care of ourselves out of a deep-rooted suspicion that God may not come through eventually after all. I see the same resistance to the siren call of fortune and fame in Jesus. When Satan presents the world and all it has to offer on a silver platter to the Nazarene, He chooses not to accept.

I believe that Abraham’s attitude was because he already knew something which Lot did not—which I am striving to learn—that God was his possession. The profundity of the lesson humbles me. There are so many songs to the tune of “If all I have is God, I have everything,” but do we really believe it? If we did, would we still keep carefully choosing, scheming and pursuing our own ideas of security for our future (Lk. 12:20), feeling betrayed when what we have is not equal to the Joneses?

"Sometimes, what we tell ourselves is a righteous battle for justice, is actually just covetousness."

But perhaps also, Abraham was presciently heeding Jesus’ warning to guard our hearts and minds against covetousness and greed (Lk. 12:15). Sometimes, what we tell ourselves is a righteous battle for justice, is actually just covetousness. The things we argue about – the fame, justification, and wealth we seek—are often just covetousness. We need the Holy Spirit to lay us bare before ourselves, to expose our own hearts to us, and help us understand the lie of Satan. The lie is to think that our lives consist of the abundance of our possessions; and that if we were who they were, had what they had, went where they went, and did what they did, our lives would mean more. Jesus tells us to guard our hearts and minds very carefully against that lie.

Our human mind always wants more because it is easily convinced by Satan that we are defined by what we have or do not have. But God speaks the truth, that life is bigger than our possessions; what we eat, drink or wear (Matt. 6:25); or even what we can afford. The world chases after certain things; they put pressure on you to own, to build, to buy, to be... God is more than that.

This is why as Christians, we must watch where our treasure is, what we consider our possession to be. Be careful. Be on your guard that you don’t lay up earthly treasure for yourself, while being impoverished towards God. There are some of us who are fools. Heaven regards us in astonishment as we pile on degrees, money, experience... we put on weight and become heavy in the things of the world. Meanwhile, in the spiritual realm, we are blind beggars, starving our souls, bereft. We forget the better city, the real city, as we chase down temporary highs. We live our whole lives, and God is just saying to us, “Fool. Fool. Fool. Fool.”

In a few verses after Lot’s harried exit, God appears to Abram—he of the lesser possession (by human standards), he who had made a loss, who had spent his life in the opposite direction from everyone else. And in that very private and holy conversation, God reassured Him: “Lift up your eyes and look from the place where you are, northward and southward and eastward and westward, for all the land that you see I will give to you and to your offspring forever” (Gen. 13:14,15).

"Abraham had God, and that made the entire horizon, stretching out in all directions, his possession."

Do you see it? The “eastward” that Lot had so carefully chosen and worked towards was, after all, included by the sovereign and almighty God in Abraham’s possession. What Lot failed to comprehend was that, somehow, the odds were always stacked against him because of his company—or lack thereof. Whichever land he chose had never really mattered. Abraham had God, and that made the entire horizon, stretching out in all directions, his possession.

Now, I live with three elderly people, and when they see me restless in my ambitions and frustrated by my apparently-small possession, they comfort me that, “The race is not to the swift” (Eccl. 9:11). As Abraham should have told Lot, as Jesus warned His listeners, they remind me that our lives do not consist of our earthly possession. If we humbly, faithfully and patiently choose the better part, Jesus assures us that it will not be taken away from us in this world (Lk. 10:42); and in the world to come, we will reap untold benefits. God’s good must be good enough for us. God Himself must be sufficient for us.

Choosing the Better Part

Serving God and remaining under His mighty hand often seems so unfair. It is easy to pity the priestly line when they are told by God in Num. 18:20, “You shall have no inheritance in their land, neither shall you have any portion among them. I am your portion and your inheritance among the people of Israel.” As Israel is dividing the land, and people are getting houses and fields, farms and animals, cities and towns, God says to them, “You won’t have that kind of inheritance in the land. You won’t have any portion among them” (Deut. 10:9). It is easy to complain bitterly: “Lord, my possession is so small.” So many others seem to be speeding ahead in their lives, achieving the Ghanaian Dream, ticking off the boxes along the meticulously-planned paths of their lives. When assets are tallied and declared, the Christian might find it hard not to feel cheated.

Perhaps this is why I am so ministered to by Abraham’s humility and his recognition that what he had was worth more than insisting on his just due, demanding to get more and have more. His only focus was on his real possession. By the end of the chapter, he is still treasuring and pursuing God: So Abram moved his tent and came and settled by the oaks of Mamre, which are at Hebron, and there he built an altar to the LORD (Gen. 13:18). Jesus, too, found that the antidote to the human lust for the world’s things is a proper view and relationship with God: Then Jesus said to him, “Be gone, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve’” (Matt. 4:10).

Paul argues that this is our real treasure, our real possession (Col. 3:1). It is above, and our hearts and minds must therefore be focused there. Anything we gain, use or lose in this world is just a temporary distraction: our better city is up above. We live away from here, like the saints so commended in Hebrews 11 (Heb. 11:13,37,38).

"...we build contentment in our lives based not even on God’s promise of constant provision, but on the promise of His constant presence."

So in Heb. 13:5,6 the writer exhorts us to build contentment in our lives based not even on God’s promise of constant provision, but on the promise of His constant presence: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Our satisfaction is in God Himself, the Person, even beyond the gifts He can and does give. The wealthy King David says, “Apart from You, I have no good thing”; and “You have filled me with greater joy than when their grain and new wine [worldly treasure] abound.”

It comes back around to treasure, doesn’t it?