Rich…Toward God?
A
sermon based on Luke 12:13-21
by Rev. Richard Thompson
The great Russian writer Tolstoy told
the story of Martin. It goes something like this:
Martin had a small farm of 30
acres. He grew vegetables, which he and his wife sold at the local
market. The man worked at a factory by day and farmed early in the
morning and on weekends. As Martin and his wife ate and talked in the
evening, she would often remark, “Martin, we are so fortunate. Our
vegetables grow so well, and people buy everything we grow.”
But Martin was not satisfied. “I
do not have enough land,” he would complain. “If I had more land, I
could quit my job in town and farm full time.”
Not long after one such lament,
Martin borrowed enough money to purchase 30 more acres adjacent to his
property. He kept working in town to pay off the loan, and worked far
into the night on his land. When Martin returned home, his wife would
say, “Martin, God has been good to us. Our fields produce abundantly,
and people still buy everything we grow.”
But Martin still didn’t think he
had enough land. He wanted to expand his vegetable business to
neighboring towns. Soon, he purchased an additional 140 acres, and was
able to quit his job in town and deliver produce to markets in three
neighboring towns. His wife worked long and hard at his side, but there
never seemed to be enough hours in the day. Yet there was still a high
demand for the delicious vegetables Martin and his wife grew.
But Martin, as you might guess,
was still not satisfied, still didn’t think he had enough land. So he
purchased another 250 acres of land, because Martin was convinced—as he
told his wife repeatedly—“the real money is in selling to the big
chain markets.”
Martin began to earn that real
money, with both he and his wife working almost around the clock. But
guess what? That’s right—Martin wanted still more land, in the
south where the climate was different, so he could grow a greater
variety of crops.
So Martin bought more land, and
worked very, very hard. The crops were growing, and people were
buying, and Martin and his wife became extremely wealthy.
Suddenly, though, after a long,
hard weekend of work, Martin suffered a severe heart attack. He was
rushed to the hospital, but nothing could be done for him. Martin died.
Martin was buried in a small
cemetery plot: seven feet long, four feet wide, and six feet deep.
Land enough for a man.[i]
Martin sounds like the rich fool
in the story Jesus tells today—the farmer whose storage buildings were
too small for the abundant harvest he experienced. The only option that
man could see was to build bigger barns and store up the harvest for
himself.
But then, of course, God foiled
his plans. The man had forgotten one thing. “He could eat, drink, and
be merry,” but he would also someday die. And he did. And what
good were his miraculous harvest and his hoarding then?
No good at all!
It seems to me that Jesus is
meddling when he tells this story—meddling in my life! Does it seem
that way to you? Meddling with the desire for more and more and more.
Meddling with the inclination to let greed rule us. (That’s why Paul,
in our reading from Colossians, calls greed “idolatry”—because we let
greed rule us rather than God.)
Isn’t that an issue for 21st
century Americans? Aren’t we immersed, deeply immersed, in a culture
that is driven by greed and, in the process, not at all inclined to pay
more than lip service to God? And when we do name God, isn’t it
often to request divine blessing on our life-styles and our desire to
accumulate more and more?
“It’s all about me!” Doesn’t that
seem to be the contemporary creed? Is it any wonder we covet gadgets
called “imac,” and “ipod,” and “iphone”? What
brilliant marketing—“I…I…I”. It sounds like the rich fool in Jesus’
parable who, when he had to make a tough decision, consulted only
himself: “I know what I will do…I will tear down my
barns, and I will build new ones, and I will store my
crops and possessions, and I will say to myself,” ‘You’ve got
it made! ENJOY IT!”
It was all about him, wasn’t it. He
was rich but, nevertheless, he was a fool. Why? Because he failed to
live his life in reference to God.
Once there was a man who dreamed
of nothing but gold. He was obsessed with it. Morning,
noon, and night, he dreamt of gold. One day, overcome by his obsession,
he got up from his desk and ran to the marketplace. He ran through the
crowd to a table where a man was selling gold coins. He swept them all
into a small bag, and ran off.
A police officer was standing
right next to the table, and he chased the man and arrested him. After
hauling him to jail and seeing him locked up, the officer said to the
suspect, “I can’t understand it. There you are, with me right next to
the merchant’s table and at least 100 witnesses, and you steal something
right in front of us all!” The thief replied, “I never saw you or
anyone else. I only saw the gold.”
I know what he means. All I have
to do is look in my closet—and my overflow closet—or the store
room on my garage, and I’m reminded how important my possessions are to
me. All I have to do, as I’m closer to the end than the beginning of
both my life and my active ministry, is to observe how the ups and downs
of the stock market impact my pension account, and I know the truth of
that man’s statement, “I only saw the gold!”
And when that happens, we miss so
much. Like Martin, our greed and our relentless working to acquire
wealth can literally kill us. Like the man who stole the gold, our
greed can blind us to our need to see and be in relationships with
others. Like the rich fool, our greed can leave us consumed by our
possessions and, in the end, too late, aware that they cannot save us
and give us life.
So what then? Is there any hope
for us? Any possibility that we can live an abundant life?
Jesus seems to think so. He
concludes his story, “So it will be with those who store up treasures
for themselves but are not rich toward God.” Or, as Eugene Peterson
puts it in his paraphrase of the Bible, The Message,
"That's what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with
God."
But there is that other possibility—the one Jesus hints
at—that we could be rich toward God. What if we were to see only
God, rather than only the gold? How would that change our
lives? How would that affect our relationships with others? How would
that impact our relationship with our possessions? Could being “rich
toward God” make life more meaningful and worthwhile, even if it meant
we weren’t so bound to our possessions?
Jesus’ answer seems to be “Yes!” He doesn’t say so specifically in
this parable, but in the teaching which follows, he insists that we can
trust God to provide what we really need. We can trust God, and that
frees us from the kind of anxiety the rich man experienced, the kind of
anxiety I experience when the stock market takes a nosedive.
And not only does Jesus teach that—but he lives
that. As he speaks these words, he’s on the way to Jerusalem. He’s
going there to meet his destiny. He knows it will be painful and
brutal. He knows he will lose much. But he also knows that’s
where God is leading him—and that’s all that matters for Jesus! He’s
the opposite, isn’t he, of the rich fool—he’s the poor wise one, who
trusts God in all things, and knows he will not be disappointed!
And so, unlike the rich fool in the story, Jesus doesn’t hoard
and keep—JESUS GIVES! Gives his own life, all that he has,
generously, selflessly, for the life of the world. Gives it all, so
that sins are forgiven and we can live with God, now and forever.
Could that be what it means to be “rich toward God”? Could
being rich toward God mean living with confidence, hope, and trust in
God—no matter what? Could being rich toward God mean that we are bent
toward giving and sharing rather than hoarding and keeping? Could being
rich toward God, in the end, be more satisfying and rewarding than being
rich in the things of this world?
The lengendary French General LaFayette—the one who fought
alongside the Colonial Army in our Revolutionary War—seemed to
understand this. After assisting General Washington and his army win
freedom from Great Britain, LaFayette returned to a quiet life in France
where he was wealthy property owner.
In 1783, the harvest throughout France was a poor one, but
LaFayette’s workers still managed to fill his barns with wheat. “The
bad harvest has raised the price of wheat,” said one of LaFayette’s
workers. “This is the time to sell.”
LaFayette was tempted by that suggestion. It would have secured
his future. But, when he thought about the poor peasants who had little
or nothing to eat, he found himself disagreeing with his advisor. “No,
it’s not the time to sell,” LaFayette replied. “This is the
time to GIVE!”
A little bit like Jesus, no? Rich toward God, seeing God and the needs
of others, and concluding, “This is the time to give!” Giving so
willingly and completely that he even pours out his life on a cross?
And what about us? Would that describe us, too—so confident in
God, so rich toward God, that our attitude is the attitude of Christ?
Seeing God so clearly, seeing the needs of others, and concluding
there’s only one right thing to do: “THIS is the time to give!”
Is that us, people of God? Rich…rich toward God?
[i]
Adapted from Tolstoy’s story, Land Enough for a Man, in
Speaking in Stories, p.p. 112-13.
