Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 12:13-21; Hosea 11:1-11; Colossians 3:1-11
There are moments that change the way we see and know the world. It is strange how it happens. Life is proceeding as usual and we are doing all the normal routine things that make up our days and then something happens and the world we had known and trusted suddenly becomes filled with the unexpected and unexplainable. This past week some 1,907 feet of Bridge 9340 collapsed into the Mississippi River. The failure of this 40 year old section of Interstate 35 West in Minneapolis, Minnesota resulted in at least five deaths but more significantly raised the anxiety of the American public concerning tens of thousands of bridges across America. While most of us are not going to change our driving habits for now, there is little doubt that most of us will at least be either consciously or subconsciously thinking about the collapse as we make the many routine trips we take with our cars each day across the bridges and freeway ramps that make up the greater Chicago road system. At present there is no clear answer as to why the bridge did what bridges are not supposed to do, fall down. But why the bridge collapsed is not the only question that haunts many who hear of the accident. Thankfully the number of fatalities has been pretty low, five that we know of. But that only adds to the mystery of the question that also haunts our thoughts. "Why those five?" One Holy Spirit member reported that one of her family members had crossed the I-35W bridge just 20 minutes before it collapsed. The newspapers reported that Lori Patterson had just jogged under the bridge before it collapsed, while a school bus with 52 children was caught on the south end of the bridge, having just crossed far enough to enable all the children to be evacuated safely from the disabled vehicle. Still, at least five people heading home after a day at work or school, thinking about their plans for that evening or tasks to complete before the next day, found their lives ended.
Death is a subject most of us would prefer to avoid not only talking about but hearing about. It hovers on the edge of our lives each day in the too regular reports of violence around the world.
We take some comfort in the fact that at least most of the headline violence is not a part of the world in which we live most of the time. We live our lives in the relative comfort and security of a nation and communities that value opportunities to embrace the good life. We like being able to settle back in our cars and make that short trip into the city to catch a ball game or visit the museum or see a play or just have a nice night out. And then a bridge collapses and five ordinary people from all walks of life are dead. Suddenly bridges and maybe a few other parts of the world look different. It just doesn't seem fair.
A question of fairness is where our Gospel lesson for today begins with a whisper of death around the edges of the story. A man comes to Jesus asking him to arbitrate a family dispute concerning the division of an inheritance. The man had obviously decided that the only fair way to settle the estate was to divide it between himself and the other members of the family. While that seems simple enough on the surface, most of us who have witnessed the settlement of contested estates know that the issue of fairness is often the last consideration. The driving force is usually something not so easily recognized or named. Clearly Jesus knew what was really going on as he responded by declaring first that he was no judge in such matters, but then he names the real issue when he says, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." Inheritance is usually defined in terms of the property and things that are left to the surviving family members, but Jesus cut to the core issue. The stuff that we have or want to have.
There is a famous monologue that the comedian George Carlin did years ago on the stuff that fills our lives. He observed that " A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you're taking off in an airplane. You look down, you see everybody's got a little pile of stuff. All the little piles of stuff. And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn't want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff because they always take the good stuff. They never bother with that crummy stuff you're saving. All they want is the shiny stuff. That's what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get...more stuff! And sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore."
That's the parable that Jesus then told. A rich man has a problem. He is the beneficiary of a spectacular harvest. The crop yield is so great that he has run out of storage space. Jesus said, the man thought to himself, he deliberated within himself saying "What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops." Then, still talking to himself he concludes, "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." This is a drastic action. He doesn't just build new barns to augment the old. He tears down the old and builds everything new. This harvest must have been nothing short of miraculous. He did not just do well. He did very well. He had more stuff to store then he knew what to do with. Which leads him to conclude, as he continues to talk to himself "And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry."
I know this story. I mean, one of the boys has a house, a good job and a new wife, another is doing good work in Africa and the third is entering his senior year of college with solid grades. People regularly comment on how proud we must be of them, which we are. And I can't help but think to myself, "Soul, you have been an A+ parent. Relax, eat, drink, be merry." I know this story. I am after all a good pastor putting in more hours then most, serving as Dean of the Conference, respected by my colleagues, preach good sermons (so I've been told). I can't help but think, "Soul, you are succeeding nicely. Relax, eat, drink, be merry."
I know this story and so do you. Just look at all the stuff; diplomas and certificates on the wall, pictures of a healthy marriage and family, two, three, four cars, HD television with surround sound, computers, iPods. It all means not only that we have done a good job at the job of life but also that we have constructed a kind of fence around our lives. We have full barns, a promising retirement and a happy family as insurance against life's challenges. Who would not be tempted to say, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry."
The title that has traditionally been given to this parable is the parable of the rich fool. But I don't think that is the title Jesus intended. Jesus begins the story focusing not on the man but with talk about the land and its bounty. "The land of a rich man produced abundantly" Jesus begins by talking about the barn busting harvest that had been bestowed upon the man. A gift. But the blessing becomes a burden, the gift becomes a problem. A rich harvest must be managed and suddenly the man has a new perspective on life that focuses on him. I have no place for my crops. I must store my grain. I will tear down my barns and build new . I will say to my soul, "Relax,... eat, drink, be merry." A man came to Jesus with an inheritance that had been given but rather than being a gift to receive it became a source of dispute and division in a family.
Life is filled with moments that can change the way we see and know the world. How do I manage the miracle of each day's blessings or do I let it become a burden. I aspire to own a car and instead become trapped by payments and insurance. A teacher becomes the best she can be and the result is that she is made an administrator no longer in the classroom. He desires to change careers but can't afford to lose the benefits, pension or insurance. So we fortify our barns, preserve and protect what we believe to be ours.
All of the talk in the parable to this point is a monologue by the rich man. He talks to himself, plans for himself, congratulates himself, celebrates himself. It is only at the end of the story, at the very end, that another voice intrudes. The voice of God. This voice does not accuse the rich man of injustice or immorality or even greed. God simply says to him, "You fool". The one we would have probably called prudent and farsighted, God calls "fool". "This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?"
The story comes full circle. What is left is an inheritance to be divided among those who will probably have a dispute to be arbitrated. Who will get all the stuff that is left? Success in our culture is calibrated largely in terms of quantity. The quantity of degrees, wealth, salary, perks, possessions, publications. We are trained by our society to want more, to strive for more.
Bishop William Willimon has made the observation that "if you take a child, even a very young child, into Toys R Us, you will not have to teach the child what to do. Hours of training by Barney and Disney have taught a child that there is no higher calling than consumption. If you take that same child into church on Sunday, however, that child will be disoriented, confused and will not know what to do next. Now what does that tell you?"
Our parable is not a condemnation of things and possession. It is not a critique of success or wealth. It is an invitation to see things differently. To understand not only what blessings we have received but also why. I have never yet read an obituary that listed how many cars or pairs of shoes were owned by the deceased. It is almost unheard of to mention anything about wealth or money. What people remember in the end is not the stuff but the actions. What did we do with the blessings God provided to us. There are different and varied blessings but everyone has received something from God. Jesus made it clear that the hoarding and holding of what we have received is the most foolish of decisions. The stuff that we have is intended to be shared. That was the lesson that our Vacation Bible School children learned this past week.
Along with learning basic concepts about God our VBS also proved glimpses of life in Togo, West Africa. The children learned that a gift of $8 could send a child to school, with the required uniform, for a year. They were invited to consider sharing their stuff to help others.
For many of the children on the first day of Bible School, it was clear that they had never before seen an offering plate in church. For others it was the first time they were invited to actually put something in the offering. For many it was the first time they actually connected their giving with sharing with others. Children in church learn a different way of seeing and being in the world. It is not always the most comfortable, but seeing the world as God would have us see it is not always comfortable. But it is important. It can make a difference. By the end of the Bible School week, the offerings of children and parents meant that scholarships will now be provided for over 60 children with $500 left over to buy them all desks. While our children may soon forget the events of this summer VBS, it is certain that those 60 children in Africa will long remember a grace moment that opened their world. The parable Jesus tells this morning is not new to us. We have heard it before. The challenge is not in the hearing but in the living of it. There is no question that we have all been blessed when compared to any other communities and other parts of the world. We have lots of stuff sealed up in our boxes. But as sure as a bridge will sooner or later collapse, so our boxes will fail us. And then what? Jesus says quite simply change your priorities. Look at the world in a new way. Think about how fortunate you are not only to cross the bridge safely but to know the God who blesses you.
Amen