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Proper 13 (18), Season after Pentecost, Year C
3 August 2025
Hosea 11:1-11
Psalm 107:1-9, 43
Colossians 3:1-11
Luke 12:13-21
When I was little, I would on occasion play with my cousin Jan. One day, when I was maybe six or seven years old I shared with him part of the dinner conversation from my house. I said that if his dad was to repay my dad the money he owed him, he would have to sell his house. That was the last time Jan and I had a play date. Some things are better not talked about during dinner conversations. And I have no idea whether my father’s claim was true. Not that I did not trust my father, but who am I to say.
Both of my parents brought baggage into their marriage. Both of them, born in 1931, had lived through the second World War, which included being separated from their families when children were evacuated from the cities to protect them from bombing raids. Additionally, my mother brought her personality disorder, and my father brought the burden of not being the child his mother had wanted. He had been predeceased by his older brother in infancy. His father wanted a quick substitute for which his mother was not ready. Over and over she would say that he looked nothing like the boy she had lost.
My father also brought something else. He was the eldest of the offspring of the children of his father’s, and his father’s two brothers. And when in in the early fifties the brothers negotiated the terms under which their children would enter the business the three brothers shared, they had a falling out and did not speak again until the day they died. My grandfather, the oldest, died in December of 1985. You do the math.
So the dinner conversation I generously shared with my cousin only reflects that many of us, whether we want it or not, follow in our parents’ footsteps, unless we understand who we are, what formed us, and make an effort not to repeat the sins of our fathers and mothers. The so-called generational curse of Exodus (20:5; 34:7), Numbers (14:18), Deuteronomy (5:9) seems to say about as much. (I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and fourth generation of those who reject me, 10but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments). Sadly, my father and his siblings followed the pattern.
I thought of this when I read today’s passage of the person in the crowd asking Jesus to arbitrate between him and his brother regarding the family inheritance. This kind of dispute is so much more common than we would wish. My father could tell you about that, too. As could my uncle and my aunt, I am certain.
But Jesus refuses to be party to our conflicts. It is not for lack of concern for justice as a little while later he instructs those who follow him to sell their possessions and to give alms. But instead of getting involved in a family dispute in which healthy relationships can no longer be salvaged, he reframes the problem by asking about the things that are of importance to us: “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” (v.15) And at this point he tells the story of the man who builds bigger beautiful barns.
What the man does not understand is that his harvest is God’s gift. He had little to do with it. It could have been a bad harvest but by the grace of God his servants bring in a bumper crop.
And since his possessions are not something he deserves but something that is gifted to him by God’s grace, he could decide that the grace he has received is the grace he shares.
Yet he is a person who defines himself by his possessions. And while this lonely man talks to himself rather than with others, his plans for his retirement do not come to fruition. At no time do we see that he relaxes and is merry. Rather, he worries about containing his riches.
Jesus’s punchline about the person who worried about his possessions is that this is how it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God. (v.21) Thus being rich toward God is what counts. In our second reading Paul says to us, if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.
In other words, while the man seems to have been successful on worldly terms, his priorities were misplaced. Howard Thurman, a mentor to Martin Luther King Jr, said almost 100 years ago that “when property becomes sacred, personality becomes secular.”1 What Thurman is suggesting is that it is not possible to hold both property and people as sacred. If one is sacred, the other automatically takes second place. And that is the world we have created and live in.
It is what makes governments cut social programs and speak of being richer than ever before. Of course, not investing in people also has a price, but that burden rests on those affected and on future generations. Jesus’s story shows us that such thinking did not start only yesterday. Here too we may think of Paul’s word from Colossians, if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.
Coming back to the brother who felt wronged in the matter of his parents’ inheritance: It is true that accepting the injustice will not restore the relationship with his brother, but neither would escalating the conflict. Admittedly, this dilemma could lead one to say, that since the relationship is broken already, one might as well see what one can get. But pursuing what one can get results in the same kind of misplaced priorities as the man with the bigger beautiful barns.
This encounter of the brother with Jesus that prompts Jesus to tell the story of the bigger beautiful barns is inserted into words that remind us that even sparrows are known to God, and that even the hairs on our head are counted, because this is how precious we are to God. (12:4-7) To God, people are sacred.
The passage is followed by Jesus’ admonition not to worry, for life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Jesus then speaks of ravens and lilies of the field and the section concludes with drawing our attention to what is truly important: Strive for God’s kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. (12:22-31)
Often the parable of the big beautiful barns has been understood as relating to life after death. Gather treasures in heaven. And in this sense it was used to tell the poor to be content with their lot. But here Jesus speaks instead of being rich toward God. That means that the whole passage is not primarily about what happens to us after we die (as if it were about earning brownie points for which God would reward us when we come to the pearly gates), but it is as always with Jesus, about living in God’s presence now. Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. “Above” is not so much a location as it is a reference to God’s reign over our lives.
I want to return to relationships one last time. The landowner in the parable had no meaningful relationships with anyone. He does not share his wealth and he speaks with no one but himself.
The brother who wants Jesus to arbitrate is already estranged from his brother. And while giving in won’t restore the relationship, neither will litigation.
There is a point in relationships when being right about something becomes a possession, like an inheritance. I am not suggesting anyone should endure abuse. And that is why some relationships must end. But if my identity in a relationship becomes that I am right and they are wrong (assuming that this is more or less factually true), then this will lead to perpetual blaming and scapegoating of the other, and will make me unable to be the person God intends me to be. I will be unable to gather treasures in heaven. My being wronged then becomes my identity, the other still has power over me, and I drive the cart deeper into the mud.
What Jesus tells us is that we need not live in such anxiety, because we are worth more than sparrows, and the hairs of our head are counted. Our identity flows from the love and grace of God, not from the wrongdoing of others. People who know that are bearers of peace because they do not perpetuate and escalate, because the grace they have received is the grace they give.
Amen.
1 Paul Harvey, Howard Thurman and the Disinherited, Eerdmans: 2020 Grand Rapids, MI, page 95