Hanging with Rich Folks (Reflections on Pentecost 8, Year C 2025)

 

And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kids of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” (Luke 12:15)

I’ll bet we’ve all heard stories—some of you may have lived them—of families which have fallen apart when a beloved patriarch or matriarch died and the survivors started to pull knives on one another over the family inheritance. There’s nothing like a little financial dispute to bring out the latent hatred only family members can feel for one another, is there? I guess this is the situation of the man who accosts Jesus in our Gospel lesson for Pentecost 8, Year C (Luke 12: 13-21).

I consider myself fortunate in that I never had to deal with any of that stuff with my clan even though both of my parents died intestate—probably relying on the age-old belief that should you not make any preparations for your demise you never have to die. Martin Luther would scold them for this, believing as he did:

“…since death marks a farewell from this world and all its activities, it is necessary that a man regulate his temporal good properly or as he wishes to have them ordered, lest after his death there be occasion for squabbles, quarrels, or other misunderstanding among his surviving friends. This pertains to the physical or external departure from this world and to the surrender of our possessions.”[i]

I often wonder if the cutthroat bickering over inheritance is really about the money. Maybe there’s something else going on here, you think? What does inheritance represent? The amount of love the deceased had for each of the bereaved? A rivalry?  Appreciation for time spent or services rendered? I think somewhere in all these emotional bloodbaths over estates is a brittle desire to have an ego validated. Let’s not forget, too, that someone has died. Perhaps the very loss of a loved one is so overwhelming and uncontrollable that someone just has to try and turn it into something that can be controlled. They’ll focus on funeral arrangements and inheritance, and they’ll find a villain—someone to blame—because they can’t just blame the real enemy, death itself.

Jesus is pretty clear with his message to the whining would-be heir: Suck it up and get over yourself. Money isn’t important. It’s not what life’s about. You’ve got to be rich toward God.

This, of course, begs the question: How are we rich towards God? There are a lot of riches which the Holy Spirit gives us. Love, for example. Love in all of its forms—friendship, romantic love, fellowship, and the enjoyment of God’s world and every little silly thing in it. We love the stars at night, the waves on the beach, the smiles of happy children, and our dog’s wagging tail. We can be rich in all kinds of interconnectedness. After all, who cares how expensive your casket is if no one comes to your funeral?

We can also be rich in purpose. Jesus was. Our Lord wandered around without two nickels to rub together most of his adult life, but he knew why he was here. He came to preach and to heal and to teach and to die on the cross and to rise again so we wouldn’t be afraid of death. He came to be a connection between us and the God we will never understand on this side of eternity. As he was here for us, we are called to be here for others. Whenever we embrace the idea that what we do is in some way a ministry, that we are part of the Priesthood of All Believers, we can rejoice that our life matters and has meaning and value.

We can also be rich in gratitude. What do we say in the preface to the mass every Sunday?

It is indeed right, our duty and our joy, that we should at all times and in all places give thanks and praise to you, almighty and merciful God, through our Savior Jesus Christ...[ii]

Jesus gave thanks when he had 5,000 mouths to feed and not enough food. He said a blessing over what he had. He gave thanks that he was able to teach his disciples.[iii] He gave thanks on the night in which he was betrayed, which, I think we can agree, does not always look like an occasion suited to gratitude given how the evening turned out. Yet the ability to find joy in the moment is a form of spiritual wealth.

Speaking of joy, we can also be rich in laughter. If God made creatures like us, you have to believe God has a sense of humor. "God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong."[iv] When we know Christ has already won the victory, we don’t have to be afraid. If we’re not afraid, we can be free to ridicule the stupid things which seem to threaten us. Gallows humor is still humor. Luther always said that when the Devil bothers us, we should turn our backs on him and fart.[v]

Bernie Sanders has been going around the country lately making speeches and holding rallies and saying that America has an addiction to greed. If greed is, as the Bern suggests, an addiction—and addiction is an illness—we should recognize its etiology. I suggest the addiction to material wealth stems from a poverty of the things of God.

My little congregation in Northeast Philadelphia is a vault of riches. We have the Gospel and the sacraments of the Church to remind us daily of God’s love. We don’t have a lot of cash. In fact, I often tell people this place is held together with Scotch tape and chewing gum. Nevertheless, we have faith, we have hope, and we have each other. We have music, adorable little kids, a few wacky young adults, and funky senior citizens. We have the love of Christ. It is a blessing for me each Sunday morning to be in the company of such wealthy individuals.

May God’s riches be yours this week. Thanks for stopping by!

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[i] “A Sermon on Preparing to Die” quoted in Lull, Timothy (editor) Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings (Minneapolis, Fortress Press 1989)

[ii] Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Minneapolis, Augsburg Fortress 2006)

[iii] This is a rather snarky prayer of thanks found in Matthew 11:25.

[iv] 1 Corinthians 1:27

[v] This is from Table Talk. At least that’s what the internet tells me. I don’t know which translation or publisher.