The Rich Fool

 

Many of us remember the famous line from the movie, Wall Street,  “greed is good” coined by Michael Douglas in his role as Gordon Gekko. The movie’s impact and specifically Douglas’ character eventually became synonymous with unrestrained greed, especially with regard to corporate finance. The movie has had a pervasive effect on our culture as it has often been used to illustrate greed and not always related to the finance sector. 

So here now almost 30 years later, we still cite the phrase as we frame our discussion regarding greed in our gospel, (Luke 12:13-21). I believe that greed is one of those words that by definition simply has no positive meaning. Of course, most of us will agree with that, but sometimes our behavior reveals an altogether different belief. Let’s face it, we are all products of a culture which is rooted in “consumerism,” and a society that is preoccupied with the acquisition of things. 

Last week our gospel (Luke11:1-13) and its discussion focused on prayer and our call to be persistent in our asking God for what we “want” and we know that our prayers are always answered, albeit in accordance with God’s plan, not ours. Not coincidentally, this week’s reading of Luke 12: 13-21, Jesus asks us to temper our desire for those self-centered acquisitions and attachments that serve as distractions and do not contribute to living in the Jesus way. While we are asked to be persistent in our petitions, we are asked to be considerate as to our motives and the things that we request of God.

So, why is the rich farmer in our story called a fool? One could easily argue that the rich man is being prudent and responsible. He has a thriving farm and his land has produced so abundantly that he does not have enough storage space in his barns for his abundance. As such, he plans to pull down his existing barns and build bigger ones in order to store his grain and goods. Then he will have ample savings set aside for the future and will be all set to enjoy his “golden years.”

Isn’t this what we are encouraged to strive for? Isn’t it wise and responsible to save for the future? The rich farmer would probably be a good financial planner as he seems to have things figured out. He has worked hard and saved wisely. Now he can sit back, relax, and enjoy the fruits of his labor, right? No, the rich farmer is a fool not because he is wealthy or because he saves for the future, but because he appears to live only for himself, and because he believes that he can secure his life with his abundant possessions. 

As we reflect on this gospel and our lives we ask where does this pre-occupation come from and how do we free ourselves from it? Without trying to oversimplify, it seems to me that the source of our greed may stem from a lack of satisfaction with life. We just don’t seem to be able to look at where we are, what we have, what we’re doing, and admit to ourselves that life is good and all things considered, just fine the way it is. There’s always something we think we want that will change our life for good. But will it? No matter how much stuff we manage to acquire, it will never be enough. There would still be an empty place that never be filled with “newer, nicer, better things.”

St. Augustine said, “Thou hast formed us for thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee.” This ancient truth provides the answer to how we can be free from the obsessions that fail to satisfy us. The steadfast unconditional love of God is a love that surrounds and holds us constantly. It is a love that is like the very air we breathe. If God’s love can be found in something so basic to our very existence as air, surely it can be found in the other aspects of our lives as well. We only need to open our spiritual eyes and ears and look and listen.

Ask and it shall be given to you; seek and you shall find

As with most new fathers I had no idea what to expect as to my feelings toward the new baby would be after the child was born. Naturally, all the attention was understandably focused on the new mother to be. No one had any words of wisdom for me or shared his insight as to what I was likely to experience, but then, what was there to say? I like most “fathers-in-waiting” just sat on the sidelines and silently wondered what it would be like. So, when my son was born, I was overwhelmed by these new feelings and sensations and by the strength of my love for him, almost from the very beginning of his life.  

 Then as the birth of my second child approached, I was uneasy about my feelings and filled with false guilt as I secretly wondered how I could possibly love her (it was to be a girl), as much as I loved my son. There’s no way, I thought, I could duplicate those “feelings?” However, after my daughter was born, I realized that my love for her was just as great…I learned that I did not have to divide my love in order to share it, or consciously love one more or less than the other. It was already there, “pre-packaged” for me in both of my children. Today, I reflect on those early years of being a parent, and marvel at how much greater is the love of God for each one of us.

In our Gospel (Luke 11:1-13), Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray. Over the years I’m sure his lesson created considerable controversy and raised much doubt about all prayers being answered: So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is this really true?

Our children provide a unique model for us as we try to comprehend how much God loves us. Over the years, my children would ask for many things. All requests were heard and I know many of their requests were answered, if not always to their satisfaction. In some cases they received what they asked for; in many they did not. Often, however, my alternate suggestion, which they may have resisted at first, turned out to be an even better “gift” than what they had originally requested. I don’t remember ever not listening to their requests, despite how outlandish some may have been or I thought they were. I don’t remember not answering them one way or another. Even when they were denied for whatever reason, I listened, but our love for each other never suffered albeit there may have been some difficult gut-wrenching moments. At no time was the love we shared ever leveraged or ever remotely considered conditional. They were mutually exclusive. Can love ever really be conditional?

Martha, Martha, Martha

The Story of Martha and Mary (Luke 10: 38-42) occurs as Jesus "sets his face to Jerusalem." He sends his seventy disciples out two by two to with no provisions and instructs them to waste no time; to travel lightly, and to depend on the hospitality of anyone who welcomes them on their journey. There is a sense of urgency in his words and his tone. Yet, he does take time on his journey to visit with Mary and Martha.

 As if this paradox is not enough, during his visit we are surprised by as Jesus’ admonishing Martha and sides with Mary for not helping in the kitchen. Our initial instinct tell us that Jesus should not take sides as he affirms Mary’s choice to join with the disciples.. After all what is Mary doing in the living room with men? Shouldn’t she be in the kitchen in keeping with her gender’s “pre-ordained” role? A few weeks ago Jesus took Simon to task for being less than attentive to the needs of his “honored” guest (Luke 7:36). His affirmation of Mary and his criticism of Simon seems inconsistent.

So, how can we explain his behavior? We certainly can relate to Martha wanting the meal to go well, especially since we can assume that both sisters were well aware of Jesus’ notoriety as an important religious teacher and they were honored to be able to host him…why else would they risk breaking the law by having a man in the house without the presence of a male relative? After all, isn’t Martha doing what is expected of her as a good hostess?

Last week Jesus took the lawyer’s bait and did not equivocate regarding the question, “who is my neighbor,” and now in this reading, he is likewise resolute…the kingdom of God is our first priority and no earthly tasks should get in the way.

Like the lawyer and Martha, we sometimes need to have our expectations challenged in order to hear…really hear… what Jesus is try to tell us.

Who Is My Nighbor

 

The Parable of The Good Samaritan is one of the most beloved gospel stories in the Bible. The story (Luke 10:25-37) tells of a man who is savagely beaten and robbed in going from Jerusalem to Jericho and given up for dead in a ditch. A priest and a Levite pass by without helping him. But a Samaritan stops and cares for him, taking him to an inn where the Samaritan pays for his care. The parable’s overarching theme teaches that enemies can have compassion for enemies; compassion has no boundaries, and that judging people on the basis of their religion, ethnicity or gender orientation can leave us dying in a ditch. 



So who were the Samaritans, really? We are told that they were not simply outcasts. They were the despised enemies of the Jews. So in this parable in which Jesus’ audience would have expected a Jew to be the hero of the story, they were likely shocked to hear that it was a Samaritan instead. Only by understanding this pivotal paradox does the powerful message of the parable come through for them then and for us today. 



Scripture scholar James Martin defines a parable as a “metaphor or a simile drawn from nature or common life arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application in order to tease it into active thought.” He goes on to explain that parables are poetic explanations of spiritual concepts impossible to comprehend fully. For example the reign of God is far too rich to be encompassed by any one definition, no matter how theologically accurate. In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a man from a hated ethnic group was ultimately revealed to Jewish listeners as the good guy who cares for the stranger. As with this parable, many run counter to the expectations of the audience and therefore are counter intuitive to “conventional wisdom.” (Martin, Jesus, p200).



 The lesson in this parable springs from an answer to a question posed to Jesus by a lawyer, likely an expert in the Mosaic Law. The lawyer’s question was, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus takes this opportunity to define what His disciples’ relationship should be to their neighbors and in typical fashion, Jesus answers the question with a question. “He asks ‘What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?’" By referring to the Law, Jesus refers to the authority, both accepted as truth, the Old Testament. In essence, He is asking the lawyer, what does Scripture say about this and how does he interpret it? In so doing Jesus avoids being “trapped” and allows the lawyer to evaluate his answer instead of the lawyer evaluating Jesus' answer. 

The lawyer answers correctly and Jesus acknowledges that he has given an orthodox answer, but doesn’t stop there. He tells him that this kind of love requires more than an emotional feeling; he would need to “practice what he preached.” As an educated man the lawyer realized that he could not possibly keep this law, nor would he have necessarily wanted to. There would always be people in his life that he could not love. Thus, in an effort to limit the law’s command by limiting its parameters, he asks the question “who is my neighbor?” The word “neighbor” in the Greek means “someone who is near,” and in the Hebrew it means “someone that you have an association with.” This allows for a limited interpretation of neighbor as fellow Jew and would have excluded Samaritans, Romans, and other foreigners. 

Jesus uses the parable of the Good Samaritan to correct the lawyer’s limited definition of “neighbor” and corresponding duty to his neighbor. By ending the encounter in this manner, Jesus wants us to follow the Samaritan’s example in our own lives in that we are to show compassion and love for those we encounter in our everyday activities. We are to love others regardless of our differences. As for reaching out to help, the criterion is "need." If we can satisfy the need, then we are to give generously and freely, without any expectation of return. This is a seemingly impossible obligation for the lawyer, and often for us. Of course, we may not be able to always follow the law because by our humanity we tend to be self centered and often unwilling to leave our comfort zone "get involved."

Thus, the lessons of the Parable of the Good Samaritan are three-fold: (1) we are to set aside our prejudice and show love and compassion for others. (2) Our neighbor is anyone we encounter; we are all creatures of the creator and we are to love all of mankind as Jesus has taught. (3) Keeping the law in its entirety with the intent to save ourselves is an impossible task; we need help, and Jesus is all too eager to be there for us.

Whoever listens to you listens to me

From an historical perspective (Luke 10: 1-12,17-20), “commissioning” the 70 in groups of two’s and three’s was a brilliant organizational strategy. We know all too well that John the Baptists’ movement was halted and his followers dispersed abruptly after he was executed by Herod. According to New Testament scholar, John Dominic Crossan, Jesus’ disciples were “decentralized” and were virtually unstoppable. They scattered to hundreds of places too remote for Jesus to visit during his ministry, especially now… as his face was set on Jerusalem.  Crossan estimates that there were hundreds of commissioned ministers already in place by the time Jesus was crucified and unlikely to learn of his death for weeks and months. (The Historical Jesus)

The seventy overjoyed with the thrill of their first encounters were reluctant to hear or heed Jesus’ warnings, and were eager to share their joy. Jesus knew that they would be going as lambs in the midst of wolves as he too experienced rejection and death threats during his ministry, and most notably in his own home town. He knew all too well that rejection was the least of what they were going to encounter.

Yet, can’t we relate to the elation that the first wave of disciples felt as they shared their experiences with one another when they returned home? Can’t we relate to the how good they felt after healing and ministering to their communities as Jesus taught. Like most of us they would be filled with hope that it all may be joyful and “fulfilling.” Yet Jesus tells us not to rejoice in citing what we’ve done but quietly rejoice because we are living the Word to glorify God. To restate Jesus admonition:  “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever accepts you accepts me, and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me."

 

You're Not Wanted Here

The music stopped; my chair was gone, and I was faced with having to leave a job and career to which I was totally committed and loved for over 30 years. A corporate reorganization resulted in my position and group being eliminated and “absorbed.” No, they said “I wasn’t being fired; your performance was exemplary; it’s just that your position would no longer exist.” “Well,” I asked, “if that’s the case how come I couldn’t do this or that?”

… Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.

To which the response was: “No, sorry, those options are not in the plans.” So, now I had to leave a place where I was no longer wanted (Luke 9:51-62) . How was that possible? I had to uproot my family and an established lifestyle, leave my friends behind and go to a place where I was wanted…but not here anymore. Hurt, anger and a futile urge to “strike back” were emotions that ruled my life for a long time.

Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?

Little did I know at the time that this pain and anguish would lead to new opportunities, personal growth and a transformation of sorts that would not have been possible had I remained anchored in that comfortable place. Little did I know that what seemed like an interminably difficult period of loss and “exile” protected me from the peril and upheaval awaiting those in that place I left behind. Little did I know then that in the long run, it was all for the best… and all part of a plan.

Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God

Now you do It

Is there any Gospel reading more familiar to us than Jesus feeding the multitudes (Luke 9:11B-17)? Let’s put aside the inclination to call Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand a miracle. Why? Primarily because it misses the point and distracts us from the true miracles that take place in the story. Luke told us in the first chapter at Jesus is Emmanuel, “God with us.” So for the one who made the world out of nothing and created light from darkness, multiplying some food and loaves was no major feat. John reminds us that the wonders Jesus performed throughout his ministry were always indications of the character of the God of love whose divine presence Jesus bears. Make no mistake, what Jesus did is anything but pedestrian but the point isn’t what Jesus did, but why he did it. Jesus reveals the God in him by his compassion, the hallmark of Jesus ministry. This single word summarizes God’s unconditional love for us and is at the core of his incarnation in Christ. 

Ok, let’s get back to our miracle… that was no minor endeavor. What we now call “food scarcity” was rampant in the ancient world. And so the disciples’ suggestion that the hordes of people go away and buy food isn’t just unrealistic it’s ridiculous. First, they were in a deserted place in the middle of nowhere, and second, they would likely not have any money to buy food anyway. And so Jesus tells his disciples to get over their self-concern and desire to be left alone, and feed them… themselves!  Which brings us to the real miracle of the story: Jesus uses the disciples, even when they would rather look after themselves, to tend to the needs of these thousands of men, women, and children. They go from “we have nothing here but five loaves and fishes” to one of abundance to “thank you, God, for these five loaves and fishes.” Whatever their initial skepticism, or doubt, or self-indulgence, the disciples are caught up in Jesus’ words of abundance and “they all ate and were filled” as God worked through these reluctant disciples to care for the poor and hungry that he loves so much. 

And that miracle continues when a parent puts his/her own dreams aside to care for the needs of their children or aging parent. God is working that same miracle when a community of faith makes a promise that no one that comes to its doors will be turned away hungry, or when a Muslim family hides a Christian refugee from the wrath of murderous radicals. God is still at work performing miracles through us, his disciples eager, yet reluctant, and everything in between.  

The real wonder of this story is that it continues. God cares deeply and passionately for those who are most vulnerable:  the poor, the homeless, the hungry. And God continues to use us to care for them.  Just maybe if we are serving our “needy,” however poor or rich, we are reminded of the similarity that exists between the scenes in Matthew. Let those of us who have been fed by God’s heavenly food go and do likewise by sharing God’s love with all we meet and especially with those in deepest need. There are two miracles in this story. They have little to do with simply multiplying loaves and fishes, and by remembering them, we are hopefully prepared to continue to follow Jesus and care for those in need. And that is no small thing at a time like this. Thank you God.