The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all. Amen. We’re in Luke chapter 12. Jesus is still headed to Jerusalem. As the text says, he has his face set toward Jerusalem — that is, set toward the cross of Good Friday. He’s continuing to preach and teach and to heal, to cast out demons, and even has raised the dead. And of course the greatest of all of his works: the forgiving of sins to those who repent. He is singularly focused on the purpose for which he came into the world. Then suddenly someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”
To us, the request sticks out like a sore thumb. It doesn’t fit. It doesn’t have anything to do with the reason for which the Son of God, the second person of the Holy Trinity, took on flesh and became a man. There isn’t anything in any of the four gospels that indicates that Jesus was interested in doing anything like adjudicating the distribution of an estate between warring brothers. Jesus’s response to the request, then, to us is not very surprising at all. But Jesus’s contemporaries, though, might not quite have been as clear about what the kingdom of heaven is, and who Christ is and was, then.
See, if you consider the customs and the expectations and the political structures and social structure of the day, the request really isn’t all that odd. I mean, after all, kings and rulers, governors, even rabbis respected in small communities were often called upon to effectively rule or act as a judge in disputes. Add to this that most people thought Jesus was the king of the Jews who has come to establish a new earthly kingdom on heavenly principles in Jerusalem. So it would simply be, in their thinking, part of what he’s supposed to do as a rabbi and as a king and as a ruler over the peoples and the lands. But Jesus made it clear: settling legal disputes over estates was not part of his divine vocation. “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” And Jesus said to them, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter over you?” Jesus was the rabbi, teacher, the promised Messiah, the prophet, priest, and king. But he was definitely not a civil judge. But this confusion over Jesus’s vocation, over the nature of the kingdom of heaven, provided Jesus with a teaching opportunity.
He begins by teaching that there’s a danger in basing one’s value, one’s identity, on the things that we have or the things that we desire to obtain. The dangers in carving out a lifestyle that places our possessions, our toys, our prosperity as the primary purpose of our lives. Because when we do that, the things that we think we own actually end up owning us. Material possessions and particular kinds of lifestyles become our gods. Jesus turns to the entire crowd and decides to make an object lesson of this man and his question. He turns to them and says, “Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed. For not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions.”
You see, the human soul, and the human being and mind, have three fundamental problems in this world. The first is sin. The second is a spiritual vacuum. We were created to be righteous, holy, and worshipping creatures. But sin destroyed that and left a vacuum, a sort of black hole, into which everything is sucked. Because that’s what we are: we’re fundamentally spiritual creatures housed in a physical body. Third: we are not spiritually deep-thinking people. Sin destroyed that as well. We are, in fact, rather shallow. “Just throw a few good works and good intentions towards the higher power, and that should do the trick.” That’s how most people live and how most people think. Add to this the fact that the world judges us — especially in the modern world — by our station in life and by our value to the economic and social hierarchy. Very often your wealth or your lack thereof defines who you are and what value you have to others — especially in particular to corporate America, to multinational corporations, to our state and local and federal governments and agencies. It all varies on what you earn and what you have. How much you pay in taxes. What they can do and can’t do with you. What they will and will not give to you.
Jesus addresses this problem of trying to fill the spiritual vacuum with the parable of the rich fool. So having warned them against the lifestyle of collecting possessions and wealth for the sake of being something rich and powerful in and of itself, Jesus told them this parable: “The land of a certain rich man was very productive. And he began reasoning to himself, saying, ‘What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘This is what I will do: I’ll tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I’ll store up my grain and my goods.'”
The man in the parable is a farmer — a hard-working farmer, a very productive farmer, because he’s got a very productive land. And over time, it has made him a very, very wealthy man. The sense here is he’s independently wealthy. He can now retire and simply live on his assets, including the new grain and the new silos. He had enough grain to keep a very comfortable life for the rest of his life. He was blessed by God with material wealth and all the comforts that material wealth brings. But there’s a problem, and the problem is not with the wealth. People tend to get confused over that point, at least people who are usually on the lower end of the wealth scale. They often get confused. In fact, we often hear them say, “Well, how much money does one guy need?” It’s usually said when we’re talking about taxes. Notice what we don’t hear: “How much money does the government need?” Nobody ever says that. Now here’s the answer, by the way: all of it. That’s what the government needs. It needs all. But in the midst of this perpetual class warfare, it is not uncommon for people to quote a Bible verse that doesn’t exist: “Money is the root of all evil.” That’s not what the Bible says. First Timothy 6:10. Here’s what it actually says: “The love of money is the root of all sorts of evil, and some by longing for it have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.” It’s love of money, over and against true Christian faith, that is condemned in the Bible, and that Jesus is condemning here.
There’s another word that we use when we talk about people who love money in a sinful way. It’s simply the word Jesus uses here: greed. And he makes a note in his warning that greed takes many forms. Poor people can be very, very greedy. They can exceed the greed of very, very rich greedy people without any problems at all. Coveting is a form of greed. Wanting someone to take from person A and give to person B because it somehow makes them feel better — or wanting it because I get it in my own pocket — is coveting, which turns to greed, which both are sin. Remember the Seventh Commandment: “Thou shalt not steal.” What does this mean? We should fear and love God that we do not take our neighbor’s money or property, nor get them by false ware or dealing, but help him improve and protect his property and business. That is, preserve his means and improve his condition.
Notice in the parable how self-centered the farmer is as he deals with his grain storage problem. He doesn’t go off to consult family or friends. He doesn’t pray, like Solomon did, for wisdom. He doesn’t wonder what’s the best way to take surplus money and help others. The man stands all by himself, consulting himself, reasoning with himself, delighting in what he thinks for himself and what he thinks his soul has gained. He began reasoning to himself, saying, “What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?” And he said, “This is what I will do: I’ll tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I’ll store all my grain and my goods, and I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years. Take your ease; eat, drink, be merry.'”
There is no thought of doing good to anyone else in the parable. There’s only pleasure in having, getting, and exercising for oneself. That’s pretty much a description these days of how we’ve raised a couple of generations of children, isn’t it? Self-serving — although it’s not restricted to them. Ask anyone trying to run a volunteer organization, civic organizations, veterans groups, congregations, church-related programs, and so on and so forth: and trying to find volunteers among the younger and younger aged people is much, much more difficult than it ever used to be. The younger the person is, it seems, the less likely they are to do for others these days. But it makes no difference whether you’re part of the older group or the younger group, the uber wealthy or the low end of the income scale. People on the top use their wealth to serve their own ideas of self-righteousness, and people on the bottom as well want stuff to serve their ideas of self-entitlement. Two forms of greed, but the same thing here ultimately. It’s the making and creating of an idol of an item of wealth, possessions.
See, the thing about possessions is that they have a tendency to hold the person who buys them. It’s all got to be paid for, either here, right now, or over time. We all got to pay for it. In a sermon on the First Commandment, Luther preached: “It is the trust and faith of the heart alone that makes both God and an idol. If your faith and trust are right, then your God is the true God. Consequently, if your trust is false and wrong, there you do not have the true God. For these two belong together: faith and God. Anything on which your heart relies and depends, I say, that is really your god.” So what’s a god? That’s what you claim: that to which you trust, that to which you devote your life and your purpose, to that which can be seen in your lifestyle. The man in the parable learned this the hard way. Jesus said to him: “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is required of you, and now who will own what you have prepared?'” So is the man who lays up treasures for himself and is not rich toward God.
One might ask what it means to be rich toward God. Well, the Bible is very clear about that: to be rich for God is to have faith in Jesus Christ — his person, his work, his life, death, and resurrection. Jesus was even more direct toward us in Matthew 6:24: “No one can serve two masters, for he’ll either hate the one and love the other, or he’ll be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and wealth.” The farmer in the parable thought his earthly possessions and lifestyle were good for his soul, but here Jesus teaches that they are death. What earthly wealth was, his god. The things of this world, philosophies, and pleasures — they count for absolutely nothing in the moment of death, and are usually squandered away shortly thereafter.
That’s a uniting theme, by the way, behind all three of the assigned lessons this morning. Here in the gospel lesson, Ecclesiastes: vanity of vanities — all is vanity. “Thus I hated all the fruit of my labor for which I labored under the sun, for I must leave it to the man who will come after me.” This too is vanity. This is the exact opposite of what the rich fool of the parable thought, and apparently what the young man of the crowd thought when he appealed to Jesus to divide the inheritance. The epistle likewise directs our attention away from the things of this world to the things above: “Set your mind on things above, not on the things that are on the earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”
Now just think about what happens here in that gospel lesson. A man emerges from the crowd and stands in the presence of the Son of God, the Christ, the Messiah, the Lamb who has come into the world to take away the sin of the world on the cross of Good Friday in the city of Jerusalem. Christ has come from heaven above to earth below to save this man from his sin. And what is his concern? An estate dispute. Human beings are always trying to fill their spiritual void with whatever idol seems appropriate to them at the moment. Struggle as we may, everything apart from Christ is vanity. St. Augustine, fourth-century church father, was right when he wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in the Lord.” Thus Jesus’s invitation: “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and you will find rest for your souls.”
Paul urges in Second Corinthians 8:9: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that through his poverty you become rich.” Jesus left his glory at the side of the Father to take your restlessness, your discontent, your depression, your searching, your longing, your emptiness — which you try to fill in every conceivable way — unto himself: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And now Jesus sets before you things of eternal significance. You’ve been clothed in his riches, his wisdom, and his mind. It makes no difference at all where you live, whether you’re on a fixed income — that is, a slave to the income — or an employee, a freeman, an owner, or an employer. You have been robed in the righteous robe of Jesus Christ. Your poverty has been taken away in Christ, and his riches have been imputed to you.
Jesus ended the parable this morning with this statement: “So is the man who lays up treasures for himself and is not rich toward God.” But that’s not you now. That’s not your role. You are what the epistle lesson said: “You’ve died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, appears, then you will also appear with him in glory.” That’s the ultimate reality. That’s the purpose for which your face has been set: to Christ, our all in all. And in Christ, nothing — the worst moments of your life are no longer vanity. They are redeemed for his will and his way and his purpose. In Christ, your sin and shallowness is hidden in the richness of the righteousness and glory of Jesus Christ. His perfect life, his good works, are imputed to you. In Christ, you are spiritually rich, because your sins have been forgiven, and you can now rest from your labors. Amen.
May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.