July 31, 2022
Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”
Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”
One of the stated goals in my household is to clean out the basement by the end of the year. We have lived in the house for nineteen years. There’s a lot of stuff in that basement.
As many of you know, years ago we combined two households into one. For the first three months of the marriage, we could not walk through the living room. It was stuffed and stacked to the ceiling. It took a while to talk out what was mine, what was hers, and what would be ours.
So what’s in the basement? Leftover building improvement supplies that we’ve told ourselves we might need someday. Unfinished craft projects. Jazz CD’s that nobody is buying. Half-empty cans of paint from rooms that we’ve repainted. A dresser with a broken leg. Two wedding gifts from nineteen years ago, still in their boxes. Cooking and baking equipment that we use once a year. And abandoned possessions from four adult children who left behind the things they did not want.
If the goal is cleaning out, that would be easy enough: get a dumpster and send it down to Mount Trashmore in Dunmore. If we don’t want to waste our leftovers, we can put them on Facebook Marketplace. Or have a garage sale, like our neighbors did yesterday. Clearly, if we expect our kids to retrieve their belongings, that ship has sailed.
All of this is my entry point to engage that little parable Jesus tells about the man who had too much stuff. He was wealthy and his wealth increased. He was a farmer and had a number of bumper crops. His barns are too small to hold all that he has, so he decides to pull them down and create more storage space.
Notice what he does not do. He does not create a community food bank. He does not give away the excess vegetables. (A note to the zucchini farmers: I’ve locked my car doors. You can’t put any more of that in there. But thanks for thinking of me.)
This affluent farmer is not thinking of anybody else. That is one of the curiosities of this parable. Did you notice that? He thinks by himself, talks to himself, convinces himself. He is isolated, self-contained. That’s all we know about his character, and it’s enough. He talks to himself.
This happens in other parables in the Gospel of Luke.
- The prodigal son talks to
himself and says, “How many of my father’s servants have more food than I
do!” (15:17)
- The merchant who has been
fired from his job says to himself, “I’m going to devise a plan to land in
a better position.” (16:3)
- A corrupt judge says to
himself, “I don’t care about that widow, but she’s wearing me out.” (18:4)
- The pharisee says to himself, “Thank God I’m not like that terrible tax collector over there.” (18:11)
Do you hear a trend? If you are a character in the Gospel of Luke and you’re talking to yourself, you’re in a whole lot of trouble. Just like the man who has so much stuff that he builds another storage unit. He says to himself, “Look how much I have! I can keep living in comfort for a very long time.” Then God speaks up and calls him a fool.
Please understand. Jesus was a peasant in Palestine. He lived and worked among peasants. In his day, there weren’t many people who had a lot of things. No doubt some of them chuckled when they heard this story. “Once upon a time there was a man so rich, he had to build more barns to store what he had.” They would have and called that ridiculous. Doesn’t he know life is short? And who has that much stuff?
Not so ridiculous to a lot of us. If you ever visit my house, don’t look in the guest room closet. That’s where I store my extra dress shirts. There’s not enough room in my own closet so I put the overflow over there.
The point is I am in no position to pick on anybody, not when I struggle with an abundance of possessions. It is not a blessing to have too much; it is a challenge. If you have switched houses a lot, you’ve probably learned how to pare down and live with less. Getting rid of treasures may feel like an amputation, but afterwards, there’s a sense of freedom.
These days when I go somewhere to speak or teach, I try to travel with a bare minimum in the suitcase. It’s called packing like a ninja. Can I rinse out my socks at the end of the day? Dress in layers and swap out the shirts? And how many pairs of shoes do I really need? I describe this to others as imagining I am on a campout. This usually gets me weird looks.
But the core issue is this: how much do we need? When is enough enough? This is a matter of deep spiritual significance. Some may think it is a neutral matter, that I can grab as much as I want. But it’s not neutral at all.
The Gospel of Luke doesn’t believe it’s neutral at all. Maybe by the time that he wrote down his book, his congregation had its share of nice things. There’s no other explanation why he includes so many stories of trappings and temptations of wealth. We will move many this fall, as we work through the parables of Jesus.
We will hear some more next week, when we hear him say, “Sell what you have and give the money to those in need.” (12:33). The riches that come from God are intended to build bridges, not walls. Money must build relationships, not tear families apart. So next week, maybe we will talk about the Mega-Millions Lottery and pray for the soul of the person who just won it.
As for today, we consider the rich farmer who talks only to himself. The tragedy of this imaginary parable is that the farmer assumes he will have it “forever.” That he will hang onto it to keep him comfortable – him alone, all by himself. There’s no mention of his family, or any neighbors. No regard for all those farm workers who picked his crops and stashed them the brand-new barns. No, it’s all about him. Only him. He is independent, self-contained, isolated, completely alone. No wonder he’s talking only to himself.
The inference is that the farmer believes it’s his money, all his. We could call it selfishness. Or we name it as greed. Or we might call it what the New Testament calls it: idolatry, literally the worship of something that is not worthy of worship. The contrast is sharp. Either we worship what we have, or we worship God. Jesus says we can’t have it both ways. Somebody tell the televangelists with their private jets! We cannot worship God and wealth (Luke 16:13). It’s one or the other.
I wonder if that truth is also what prompted him to tell the story of the farmer with too many crops. As Luke introduces the episode, someone asks Jesus to step into a family squabble about an inheritance. The attorneys and funeral directors tell me that this still happens. Daddy dies and the kids can’t wait to get their hands on his investment accounts. Like that multi-millionaire who died, and his kids told me to keep the funeral as short as possible. They wanted to hear the reading of the will.
Jesus wisely steps out of that fray. He is neither judge nor arbitrator. Rather he tells us the truth: life does not consist in the abundance of our possessions. More stuff does not make us happy. Read what the psychologists are now telling us. Affluence can destroy families. Wealth does not make us rich.
At the root of the trouble is a something Jesus calls “pleonexia.” Often that Greek word is translated as “covetousness” or “greed.” The better translation may be “hunger.” As in, I’m hungry for some new clothes, or a slicker car, or a bigger pile of cash, or seven new Vera Bradley purses. Would one purse ever do? I’m only asking because I don’t know.
What I do know is hunger is the opposite of contentment, just as greed is the antithesis of gratitude. In a time of accumulation, it’s so easy to be distracted. The evidence is in the parable. A wealthy farmer has a wonderful year. It’s so wonderful that he forgets where the harvest has come from. Sure, he planted the seed, but who provided the sunshine? Who sent the rain? Who established the abundant growing season? Not him.
The tragedy is that this imaginary farmer has disconnected the product from the process. He has become a functional atheist, believing it’s all about him. So he talks only to himself, schemes only for himself. Guess what: God is waiting for him. The message is clear. Take care! Be on guard.
Meanwhile that basement of mine is still full. And I have many more dress shirts than I will ever wear. What shall I do?
The old paint cans need to go. Joshua’s 37 Hess trucks need to be driven over to his basement. The craft supplies can be donated. And the jazz compact discs will become door prizes for this year’s 30th annual jazz communion on Labor Day weekend; if you don’t have a way to play them, they still make good coasters for your coffee table.
As for the dress shirts, I need to come clean with myself to say the ones that didn’t fit will never fit. Time to let them go. Somebody else needs them far more than me. And I can give two thirds of them away and still have plenty to wear. One of you suggested some time back to hang all my clothes in the closet with the hangers turned backwards. And I haven’t worn them in a year, there’s no reason to hoard them. No reason at all.
There’s something playful about lightening the load and giving away what we have. I get great enjoyment from giving something to somebody else. Anybody else feel that way? Abundant life does not consist of filling a barn with stuff I don’t need. Abundant life consists of freedom. Freedom from the burdens of accumulation. Freedom from the hunger to purchase. Freedom to share. Freedom to give. Freedom to offer what I have to build relationships with those around me.
So that’s what I’m working on today. Maybe you will work
on some of it too. And next week, we will talk about winning the Mega Millions lottery.
See you then.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
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