Summary: They say you can't judge a book by its cover, so you certainly shouldn't judge a painting by its frame, right? But what if we're talking about the story that frames a parable? In that case, we'd better take a close look at this guy who wants Jesus to settle the will in his favor before exploring what's sometimes called "The Parable of the Rich Fool."
Farmers work hard.
A pastor in Indiana says he's a city boy who's spent the last 35 years in farm country. "I'm an outsider, to be sure," he says, adding that the closest he's come to agricultural work is beekeeping, which, he explains, "doesn't count for much because the trick is to let the bees do all the work and then have the beekeeper take all the credit at harvest time."
As an outsider, however, he sees things quite clearly. One thing is certain: Farming is hard work, and you never seem to get ahead. Even the most successful farmers are only land rich and equipment rich. Cash flow is always a problem.
There is always work to do year-round, but during planting time and harvest you miss out on your kids' games over at the high school. You become a stranger to your family during that time of the year.
So many things are out of your control. The weather. Crop diseases. Prices. When you have a great harvest, the price you're paid may drop. The years your crops are worth more it's because the yield is down. Maybe way down.
And if the harvester chews up a raccoon after you've broken your personal rule against working on the Sabbath because you were already so far behind, recovery may require weeks of repairs and cleanup.
Consider all that as background for this parable by Jesus. A farmer finally gets an abundant crop -- and Jesus calls him a fool. What's more, the parable doesn't seem to fit with something the apostle Paul said: "The one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully ..." -- well, you fill in the blank.1
Despite all the risks, hurdles, and hard work, what a great problem it is that this farmer faces! "What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?" he wonders. And then he decides, "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." The farmer is finally ahead of the game. "And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years: relax, eat, drink, be merry.'"
Now before we get too critical, isn't this exactly what scripture says we should do? The author of Ecclesiastes states, "So I commend enjoyment, for there is nothing better for people under the sun than to eat and drink and enjoy themselves, for this will go with them in their toil through the days of life that God gives them under the sun."2
And don't we know the fable about the Grasshopper and the Ant? The ant works hard all summer long while the grasshopper plays on his fiddle. And then winter comes, and the ant enjoys the fruit of his hard labor while the grasshopper starves.3
Instead of praising the farmer, God says, "You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you."
What are we missing?
When was the last time you bought an expensive piece of art because you loved the frame? Probably never. But to truly understand this parable, we must look at the incident that frames it. After Jesus warns the people about hypocrisy, the coming persecution and the need to put our trust in God, this guy walks up and says, "Teacher --"
Good start. But then we learn all this guy wants is one thing: "-- tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me."
Bob Dylan once said, "Money doesn't talk. It swears." Somebody had just died. Probably the father. Is inheritance all the death means to this man who approached Jesus? A payday?
We all know that if money is tied up in property or land or in intangibles, it can't typically be converted to cash immediately. Things can get ugly.
What Jesus says in response to this request is, "... life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." And the real lesson might be rephrased as, "It's not always about me!" So let's look at this parable again.
There's one big difference between the Grasshopper and the Ant. The ant works with all the other ants for the benefit of the colony. The work of each one supports everyone else.
The "rich man" in this parable is not the hero of the story. We've heard rags to riches stories, people whose hard work is rewarded by safety and security. And shouldn't someone reap the rewards of their hard work?
The rich in Jesus' day, however, were part of a monied class that was often built on the backbreaking work of others, including slaves and day laborers. The protagonist of this parable may not have been a farmer as I first envisioned him. He may well have been living on the work of others.
So when there was a magnificent harvest, he did not reward his slaves or the day laborers who were brought in during planting and harvest. He did not share with them justly earned rewards. He stored it up for himself!
I find the following words to be especially striking -- after picturing himself building larger barns he says, "And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years ...."
The word translated soul is psyche, the Greek word for who you truly are at the core of your being. It's who you truly are, your character. The Hebrew word Jesus may have been thinking of is nefesh, literally breath, but also thought of as "being." How do we define ourselves?
This rich man likely did not see himself as part of an economic family; he was not thinking about the well-being of everyone who has participated in his livelihood. It sounds like he was thinking only of himself, just as the guy in the parable's frame was thinking not of the well-being of his family or of the grief they share on the death of a loved one, but, "Where's my share? Now!"
There's a story in Genesis that should disappoint us. God sent a dream to Pharaoh to warn him that seven years of plenty were going to be followed by seven years of famine, and God gave Joseph the message that food should be saved over the seven years of plenty so "That food shall be a reserve for the land against the seven years of famine that are to befall the land of Egypt, so that the land may not perish through the famine."4
Joseph and Pharaoh acted on the dream and built storehouses for the grain during the years of plenty -- but they also used the situation to enslave the people, who after several years of famine had nothing left to offer for the grain. They did not share the grain freely "so the land may not perish through the famine." It was used to increase the power of Pharaoh, and in the process Joseph. Nowhere does it say it was God's will that all those people should become slaves.
The word "parable" in the Greek is the same as the mathematical term for a parabola, something that loops far away but boomerangs right back to us to smack us on the rear end. So how does this hit home for us?
Some of us believe, like the guy who demanded Jesus help him collect his share of the inheritance, in what we might call a "Pocket Jesus," a little Jesus puppet we keep in our back pocket. We ignore all that Jesus said about caring about the welfare of others. We ignore the Sermon on the Mount and ignore how the parables may be sending us a warning. We especially ignore everything that Jesus says that makes us uncomfortable.
The Cross and the Resurrection are okay, because they're my guarantee that I will gain eternal life. And on other occasions when it seems to benefit me, I will bring that Jesus puppet out of my pocket and have it recite a verse or two that benefits me or puts you down. But then the puppet Jesus goes back into the pocket.
We're all in this together, for the spiritual and physical benefit of all.
I hope the words of Jesus hit home, and that the guy went back to his family and shared in their grief and that the family began to bless each other as they walked through their sorrow together. I hope getting a share of the inheritance mattered less and less, and that a stronger future was built for the children and grandchildren.
This is a good time to think of what we ought to have done -- and still might do -- to benefit our shared well-being, now and in this life, not only for our immediate circle, but throughout our nation, and throughout our world.