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In 1983 Paul Tsongas was a U. S. Senator for Massachusetts. When he was diagnosed with a treatable form of cancer he re-evaluated his life choices and opted not to seek re-election. In 1984 he published the memoir “Heading Home” which included a discussion of his decision. He wrote: ‘...Since I didn’t have a lot of close friends, the family was where I fulfilled my human aspirations. The Senate had become an obstacle to that… Or as an old friend, wrote to me in a letter, “No one on his deathbed ever said, ‘I wish I had spent more time on my business.’”
It’s true though isn’t it? As we get older we tend to reassess what matters in life - to simplify; to downsize; to reprioritize where and with whom we spend our time and our money. The thing is, the church has a long history of domesticating Jesus’ parables. For example, it is all too easy for us to see ourselves as the Samaritan and end up hearing a parable able being kind. The Mustard Seed becomes a triumphant song about to patient passivity. This week’s Rich Fool becomes a cute reminder that you never see self drive vans ‘full of stuff’ behind funeral corteges. Here and indeed always, Jesus’ parables are about so much more.
The tragic tale of the Rich Fool isn’t a reminder that we might die sooner than we hoped or that we might find ourselves wishing that we had spent more time at our children’s plays or sports fixtures and less at the office (although those are useful lessons from time to time). The parable digs deeper, toward the heart. It tells about money’s ability to impoverish our souls and rewire our values. The way the parable is explicitly framed makes it warn against greed, the acquisition of more stuff, and egoistic preoccupation with one’s own security. It offers an explanation for why otherwise ordinary or hard-working people might end up existing in their own self-absorbed universes, constructing lives in which they don’t have to give a damn about anybody else, especially people they can’t see. Or don’t want to see. It’s not an easy listen.
The wealthy landowner said, ‘...And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ If we are honest, this sounds uncomfortably close to the aspirations of every retirement plan ever. I wonder if any of these Greek terms could be translated into “golf.” The language that Jesus uses in this parable about this man suggests that he isn’t just rich, a landowner, but that he has so much land that he might own a region, and that might justifiably carry assumptions at whose expense he has managed to accrue so much. God confronts the man with a version of - you can’t take it with you when you’ve gone. In this parable, the man is a fool, or more literally, he is unwise, because of all that he has accumulated, which is ironic because shrewd business acumen elsewhere in scripture is seen as wise. So I am left wondering what Jesus is really driving at here.
The issue here is that the wealthy landowner is greedy. Indeed the man who prompts the parable in the first place, who petitions Jesus for help in getting part of the family inheritance, appears to be asking a respected spiritual leader to validate his own desire for wealth.
Greed shows its true identity as idolatry when Jesus says over and over again in Luke that we must beware of what money can do to us. Greed compels us to banish anyone who looks like they might threaten “what’s ours.” Likewise, idolatry constructs worldviews in which self-interest is the cardinal virtue. Idolatry lies, whispering that cupidity (greed for possessions) won’t erode my capacity for community. Idolatry makes fools of us all when it convinces us to create religious justifications for our arrogance and hardheartedness.
It’s a difficult thing to hear isn’t it? It would be so easy for this sermon to skew off into the territory of the other things that Jesus says about money and our use of it (remembering he says more about money than pretty much anything else in the Gospels.) But here he asks me and you about where we place our trust - deep down; about our reliance - bank account or bible; goods or God. But it’s not as binary as that is it? What do Jesus’ words mean when the populations of ten nations possess 79 percent of the world’s total wealth even though they constitute only 29 percent of the world’s total population? What do Jesus’ words mean when substitute the image of wealth in this story and tell it using the image of free time; or available food; or experience; or talent. If we find ourselves talking using the words ‘I’ or ‘my’ as much as this wealthy landowner in this parable, in relation to anything that is ‘ours’, and aren’t seeking to use those resources in the ways of the Kingdom, then Jesus is looking at me and at you square in the face this morning.
[At this point I left the pulpit to stand at the entrance to the nave]
To close, I want to be the sort of person who is rich towards God. I struggle daily to put God first in my life - shall I pause and give thanks to God - nah it’s better to keep going on the task and use my time wisely; I’ve been asked to visit, but they take so much of my time and energy; I want to give you my time; my experience; my prayer; love; my hospitality. Yes of course that’s what I am paid to do. But I am trying to do it folks, and there’ll be days when I want to stay home. But I’m trying to do it to please any incoming Bishop or for All Saints to become the sort of church that others look at and go coo… I am trying to follow Jesus: loving; sharing; forgiving; giving; doing; praying; showing up. And I want you to too - not because I want All Saints to survive in the present and the future, but because I’ve found it to be a better way to live and I want you to have that too so we can grow to become a community of generosity and joy and imagination and courage for the sake of not ourselves but the community we are called to serve. It’s a vision I still choose actively, daily. I encourage you to choose it too.
