Simplicity (Part 1 of a Stewardship Series)

Luke 12:13-21

13 Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me." 14 But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?" 15 And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." 16 Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17 And he thought to himself, "What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' 18 Then he said, "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. 19 And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' 20 But God said to him, "You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' 21 So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

            As a pastor I have done my share of funerals, and if I can tell you anything about a funeral it’s this: be prepared for family drama. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does, a pastor needs to be ready for it. You see, a funeral may be the only time some family members are ever in the same room together, a time when those who share last names and DNA come together in the same space to mourn the loss of a loved one. Generally speaking, when there is family drama, it takes place after the service, usually back at the church or the home where the food is designated to be delivered. It nearly always starts the same way, with a seemingly innocent question: “Did Momma leave behind a will?” “Did Granddaddy say who gets his boat after he died?” Before long these not-so-subtle questions begin to elevate into accusations: “I knew you only came so you could take Aunt Vida’s antique coffee table back home.” “I should have known you were only coming to see if Daddy left you any money.” One doesn’t have to wait too long in these situations before the lid is blown off, and brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles are all at each others’ throats arguing over every last trinket left behind by the recently departed. It’s a sad scene to watch unfold, yet I’ve seen it many times as individuals allow their greed and selfishness to overtake their grief and their love for their lost family member. Thankfully (THANKFULLY!), no one has ever turned to me in the middle of such heated family conflict to ask, “What do you think about it preacher?”

            I’m afraid that’s just the sort of situation in which our Lord finds himself in this passage before us this morning. I have to say, I’m glad no one has ever come to me with such demanding words as this man does in verse 13. Luke tells us, “Someone in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.’" Can’t you almost hear this man whining as he comes to Jesus with this family dispute? This nameless individual comes to Jesus, addresses him as a rabbi and demands that he tell his brother to give him his fair share. Now, to be fair, that wasn’t all that uncommon in Jesus’ day; members of the community would often seek out a rabbi for his judgment in these sorts of matter, especially if they could be solved by pointing to the Law—to Scripture (I think of how often people come to me and ask me what the Bible says about some issue or another). Jesus, however, as he often does, shakes this man’s demands and shines a different light on the entire situation. In verse 14 Jesus says to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you? I have to imagine that that man thought to himself: “Well God set you as a judge and arbitrator over me! You’re a rabbi after all!” As it turns out, though, Jesus isn’t only speaking to this man and his unique situation.

Jesus uses this man and his common conundrum to speak to the crowd gathered around him. In verse 15, Jesus turns his attention to the people in the crowd and says, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” To further prove his point, Jesus tells a parable, a parable about a man who has so much that he has to tear down his old barns just to build bigger, better barns to hold all that he has. When he gets satisfied, thinking he has gathered and stored enough, he decides to “retire,” but God says to him in verse 20: “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” The man’s life is being demanded of him; he is going to die. He’s going to die, and he’ll have to leave everything he has gathered together behind. For that, God calls the man a fool.

Of course, in our culture this man in Jesus’ parable would be anything but a fool. We are encouraged to store things up for ourselves, to open savings accounts, make investments to see our money grow. If someone has made enough money so as to build a bigger house, drive a nicer car, or buy more expensive things, we applaud his or her hard work, or we become jealous of their possessions. The man in this parable would be seen as a model American citizen, taking advantage of his abundance and keeping it all for himself and perhaps as an inheritance for his descendants. But that’s where Jesus’ telling of this parable flips the man’s demand for his proper inheritance on its head. He asked about his inheritance, and Jesus points out how trivial such an inheritance was in the life of the one who had it before. In other words, why worry about an inheritance that the one before you couldn’t (or didn’t) even use? To put a nice bow on the whole story, Jesus gives a sort of summary statement in verse 21, a nugget of wisdom for all to take away from the parable: “So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God." In other words, why store up for yourself that which you cannot or will not use on this earth, especially for the glory of God?

            This is where I think we need to listen for a word or two about re-defining stewardship, especially as it has to do with living a life of simplicity. You see, we live in a place and time where simple is considered strange, backwards, and downright un-patriotic! After all, this is the land of opportunity; we are an ambitious and innovative people. We live in the days of the internet, the iPhone, fast food, Super Wal-Marts, walk-in closets, and investment banks. We are encouraged to spend money we don’t have on things we don’t, or (in the rare occasion we have it) save the money we don’t need, and invest the rest only so we can make more. To live a simple life at or below our means is sarcastically considered “sacrificial living” in the eyes of those who have more than they will ever need or ever use. We are waist-deep in a culture that encourages us to “store up treasures for ourselves,” and many of us gladly go along with the status quo.

            This month, however, we are reexamining that status quo. We are attempting to re-define stewardship, turning to the teachings of Scripture to see what it means to be good stewards of all that God has given us, and I am convinced that being good stewards begins with a desire to live a faithful life of simplicity—a life lived rich toward God, not a life lived in overabundance. That seems to me to be the lesson Jesus is trying to teach this man, the crowd, and us with this parable today. Why does this man come to Jesus with this dispute about his family inheritance in the first place? Because he is worried about getting what’s coming to him; it’s plain, old-fashioned greed. And greed is the opposite of simplicity, the opposite of good stewardship.

            Jesus’ words here in this parable remind me of another parable, a story from the great Russian author of the last century, Leo Tolstoy. In his story titled “How Much Land does a Man Need?” Tolstoy tells the tale of a peasant by the name of Pahom. After overhearing a conversation between his wife and her sister about the dignity and comfort of their respective ways of life, Pahom vows to rise up from being a peasant. Through a series of events, he is able to buy himself a little lot of land and grow his own crops. Before long, however, he becomes dissatisfied with the little piece of land he has and the ways in which the local peasants are abusing it, so he sells his land to move to a commune where he rents more land and continues to grow his own crops. However, he is still not satisfied, so he decides to buy his own land again; this time, though, he would buy enough to keep the peasants away and grow enough crops to make a comfortable living.

            Through another series of events, Pahom hears about a Turkic tribe called the Bashkirs who are selling land for an outrageously cheap price. He decides to go and see about it, and when he meets with the tribe’s Chief, he finds out that the land is indeed just as wonderful and cheap as he had been told. It turns out the Bashkirs had a unique way of selling their land: they sold it by the day. It was one thousand rubles per day. Now, what that meant was the Bashkirs would sell Pahom all the land he could walk around from sunrise to sunset, but he had to complete the circle in that time or he would receive no land and the tribe got to keep his money.

            So they day arrived, and Pahom was eager to walk around as much land as he could. He figured he could walk some 35 miles on a good day, so he set that as his goal. He couldn’t help but imagine how much land would be inside the circumference of 35 miles. The Chief and members of the tribe met Pahom at the place where it was designated he would begin. The chief placed his fur cap on the ground and told Pahom if he made it back to the cap before sunset all the land he encircled would be his. With the sunrise, Pahom was off to try and walk around as much land as he could.

            This is where Pahom’s story teaches us a lesson about satisfaction, simplicity, and greed. You see, Pahom started out with a plan, but soon convinced himself that he could get more land if he walked faster or if he went a certain way with the terrain. Later in the day, however, he realized he had made a terrible mistake—he wasn’t going to have enough time to make it back if he kept going. Pahom turned back, knowing that if he didn’t make it back to the Chief’s cap by sunset he’d lose everything. The sun seemed to be moving faster towards the horizon, and before he knew it, Pahom was in the pale darkness of twilight. He could see hill where the Chief and his own servant were waiting for him—he was close. With one giant breath Pahom leaned forward and ran as he had never ran before, up the hill and towards the Chief’s cap. With a final effort he stretched out his hand and fell face down on the ground. He made it.

            The Chief was shaking with amusement and congratulated Pahom on his take. His servant knelt down to help him up, and that’s when he saw it—the blood coming from Pahom’s mouth. His pursuit of more land had killed him. In the end, all the land he needed was six feet long, just enough to bury his body.

            The man in Jesus’ parable and Pahom share a similar sickness, a sickness with symptoms we all show from time to time. In the weeks ahead, however, I hope that we will allow the words of Scripture to heal those symptoms. May we not give in to greed and selfishness. May we not allow ourselves to be overcome by the pursuit to always want more. May we be satisfied with what God has blessed us, and may we strive to be people who live faithful lives of simplicity as good stewards of all that God has given us.

Let us pray…