“An Inheritance Dispute”
Original sermon given July 31, 2022, written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church
Watch the sermon live here
“An Inheritance Dispute”
Luke 12:13-21
Luke 12:13-21
In the name of the Living God and his risen Christ. Amen.
Another inheritance dispute, only this one in excess of a billion dollars! Ken Evanstad of Maple Grove, MN got-in early on the generic drug market, and worked hard his whole life to establish Upsher-Smith Laboratories in St. Paul as one of the nation’s leading generic pharmaceutical companies. As he planned for retirement, he tapped his son to take over the successful business. His resentful daughter became estranged from the family, and so eventually they were forced to sell-off the company. The Father, Ken’s, untimely death left the inheritance settlement unclear, and now the matter is mired in the Minnesota courts, the only ones winning at this stage probably the lawyers (no offence to any lawyers in the room!). The more I read about this dispute the more frustrated I became. Both kids had received already hundreds of millions of dollars in shares from their father’s company; money which they had not earned. What more do you want, I thought? But then, the more I read about the dispute I also recognized that, well, fair is fair, and if someone was supposed to get $250 million, and they only got $200, well, that’s not right, either. So, what do I know?
I then further reflected upon my own experience in pastoral ministry, and how often I’ve seen this, but admittedly on a much smaller scale. An old, farming couple have what seems to be an air-tight will well prepared. Everything settled, everything evenly distributed, everything paid for, even down to the soloist for the funeral. But then, after the parent’s death, yet still, somehow, one of the kids ends up fighting over the inheritance; fighting over stuff; the kind of things you stick in a bank or a barn, but nothing that satisfies the heart. At the core of all these disputes—whether it’s billions or just a few hundred bucks—is not a lack of money, but a lack of true love. Impoverished people desperately grasp after things which ultimately have no power to satisfy the soul. And they will never be content.
This morning’s gospel begins with yet another inheritance dispute. We’re not told how much, what the circumstances, or even whether the man who approached Jesus out of the crowd was right or not. O, how we’d love to get into the steamy details of this one, too, but alas, we’re given few facts. Perhaps the guy in the gospels, here, had a point. Perhaps it wasn’tfair. Perhaps his brother manipulated things so as to not give the man fully what he was owed. So, he approaches Jesus, the wise, powerful teacher, who speaks for God, to settle things for him. Give him what he’s due. Make things all square again. Give him justice or at least a “See, I told you so! Jesus says, give me my money!”
But like so many times in the gospels, our Lord refuses to get dragged into our pathetic, earthly disputes, whether the ones worth billions or just a few bucks. But instead he focuses our eyes on eternal truths, eternal things, and an eternal warning. He does so but telling this parable about the man who built bigger barns.
At first glance it seems that Jesus is being pretty tough on the fictional farmer in the parable: here’s a guy who works hard, plans ahead, and is smart about his business. He’s met with a bit of success, so he builds bigger barns to house his wealth, and looks forward to taking it easy in retirement. The parable sounds pretty good so far, doesn’t it?
But then just when we expect God to appear and pat him on the back for his hard-work and prudence, a voice thunders, “You Fool!”, and the man’s life is cut tragically short. And this is the gospel of the Lord?
It is, but we have to get into the text a little bit to understand what’s going on. In the first place, why was the man foolish? If you look carefully, it’s not because he worked hard and planned ahead: the Bible is full of examples God blessing rich people; and of wealthy people furthering the kingdom of Christ; and of the good use of abundant possessions. The parable isn’t about this man’s barns, it’s about his heart: he stored up things only for himself; he paid no attention to eternal and spiritual things; he planned only for this life; he feared, loved and trusted in the wealth of this world to satisfy his impoverished soul. That’s why he’s a fool. And that’s why both his heart and his soul were found locked-up in the trifling treasures of a couple big barns when the Lord came looking for them.
It’s not about the barns; it’s about the heart. If it were only about the man’s barns, then you and I could walk away from this parable unchanged. But we are bid to enter it this morning, because our Lord is asking each of us a very difficult question through this scripture: are you trusting the things of this world rather than the things of God? What do you seek to satisfy the deep cravings of your soul?
A young, urban professional works her way up the corporate ladder. She works 70 hours a week, has a solid 401k plan, and, no doubt, will be running the place in a few years if she keeps it up. But her worship life has been reduced to only the Hallmark Holidays, she hasn’t cracked his Bible in months, and only musters a brief bedtime prayer before collapsing to sleep at night. Is she simply building bigger barns?
A busy family balances diapers, soccer practice, and ballet lessons on Thursday evenings. They are part of the rush-rush western world we all live in, and they struggle to make time for the important things. Are they simply building bigger barns?
An elderly couple have worked hard all their life, and are enjoying their retirement (and well, they should be!). But after quickly browsing over their credit-card statement, they find that they spend more money on eating-out in one week then they give at church in a month. Are they simply building bigger barns?
A teenager spends dozens of hours a week on the phone, texting, watching youtube, snap-chatting with friends, but can’t be bothered to volunteer an even an hour a month. A church body can someone afford million-dollar multi-purpose worship facilities, but can’t possibly afford to keep missionaries on the field. A nation spends billions a year on pet-food, while 40,000 children die a day from hunger-related causes (yes, that’s every day!). Are we simply building bigger barns?
Friends in Christ, if you’re anything like me, than you may find there’s more of this foolish farmer in you then you care to admit. And if that’s the case, then the call of this parable is more than anything a call to repentance, and to faith: an about face in priorities, and call to Christ for his mercy and forgiveness. The good news is that this he gives to us freely, without price, and apart from anything we might offer him, simply and solely because our Lord Jesus had his priorities right: he who counted the things of this world for nothing, who surrender the eternal treasures of heaven for the temporal trials of the cross; who gave everything up for us, that we might be made his own. It is the power of this Grace alone, which will be our covering on that day when he calls our name, and we are asked to give an account. That’s why, beyond anything else, this parable has got to bring us right back to the cross of Christ—that alone which we trust for our life and salvation; and that which transforms our perception of ourselves, our world and our priorities.
Let me close with a different-kind of parable, which I read recently. It’s drawn from the Christian author Max Lucado’s book, And the Angels Were Silent. How many here have been to the beach this summer? Imagine a beach along the ocean, with the tide coming in.
“Watch how a little child builds his castle in the sand. He works all day digging, planning, perfecting. He builds with enthusiasm, and takes pride in his work. And yet watch him as dusk approaches. Each wave slaps an inch closer to his creation; every crest crashes closer than the one before; every moment reminds him that it will all be over by sunset. He doesn’t panic. He isn’t surprised. All day the pounding waves have served as rhythmic reminders that time will take his castles. So as the waves draw near, the wise child jumps to his feet and claps; when the greater breaker crashes into his castle and his masterpieces is sucked into the sea, his smiles. He smiles, picks up his tools, takes his father’s hand and goes home.”
If we build barns or castles in this world—and we all do in different ways—let it be like the wise child rather than the foolish farmer. Let us build with enthusiasm and delight and perseverance, but with perspective about what really matters and what can truly satisfy us. And when the sun sets and the tides comes into to wash it all away—smile, applaud, take your father’s hand and go home.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.