And He spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a
certain rich man brought forth plentifully. And he thought
within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room
where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will
pull down my barns and build greater; and there will I bestow
all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul,
thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease,
eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool!
This night thy soul shall be required of thee; then whose shall
those things be which thou hast provided? So is he that layeth
up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.--_Luke 12,
16-21._
It is a serious matter to call any man a fool. It ought never to
be done except when circumstances make it imperatively necessary.
Christ, you know, employs very strong language in reference to this
in the Sermon on the Mount when He says: "Whosoever shall say to his
brother: Raca, shall be in danger of the council, but whoever shall
say: Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire." But we must bear
in mind that our Lord does not condemn the expression "Thou fool"
in itself, but rather the spirit in which it is spoken. He does not
affirm that it is wrong to say that a fool is a fool, even to his
face, but that it is intensely wrong to do so from a feeling of
hatred, from spite; and so when God in the words just quoted says to
the rich man, "Thou fool," He says so, not because He hated him, but
because it was a fact, because He pitied His miserable condition,
and because He wishes to deter others from following his example.
To deter others from following his example, by the guidance of
God's Holy Spirit, is what we shall attempt to do in our pulpit
instruction this morning. Permit me simply and briefly to direct
your attention to two points in this striking parable, _I. That the
rich man spoken of in this parable was in some respects a wise man_;
_II. in some, and the chief respects, a foolish one_.
That this man was in some respects a wise man, of this we have
sufficient evidence before us. In the first place, he was a rich
man. It says: "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth
plentifully." It is very often said that anybody can make money,
that it requires no extraordinary powers to become rich, that those
who have prospered in the world are more indebted to adventitious
circumstances than to any merits of their own, and true it is that
men without intelligence, without education, without genius, are
sometimes, through a favorable combination of circumstances, enabled
to accumulate a vast amount of wealth. Yet, as a rule, riches are
acquired by those who work hard, who rise early and go to bed late,
who devote themselves with untiring energy to the serious business
of life. The great law is that "The hand of the diligent maketh
rich." Success is a prize which can only be secured by those who
diligently seek it. The very fact of this man being rich was in
itself a strong proof of his prudence; for the two, riches and good
common sense, stand, as a rule, connected.
Again, we are told that the land brought forth plentifully. What
did that prove? Anything further than that the land was fertile? It
proved that he was a skillful farmer, that he cultivated his land
well, that he knew how to make the most of it. For while it is true
that the abundance of the harvest depends on many circumstances over
which man has no control, such as the refreshing dew, the genial
rain, and the life-giving sunshine, so that after man has done
his best it is God who must give the increase, we ought also to
remember that God invariably observes the laws which He Himself has
established: He never causes corn to grow where seed has not been
sown; He never makes the uncultivated soil bring forth at the same
rate as that which is properly tilled; the smiles of Providence and
the help of God do not attend the indolent, and the careless and
thoughtless. If a man would reap abundantly, he must sow abundantly,
use the brains God has given him, and conform to God's laws; and
so, when the land brings forth plentifully, it is a proof that it
belongs to a skillful and prudent farmer.
And he was careful of his goods. He thought within himself: "What
shall I do because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?" There
was nothing wrong in this thinking, planning, and contriving. It
would have been an unpardonable negligence on his part to let the
corn rot in the fields for want of sufficient room to store it in,
and it would have been hardly natural to expect him to distribute
that for which he had no room among the poor. Doubtless it is the
duty of those who are very prosperous to be also very liberal;
according as they receive from God, so ought they contribute to
God's institutions. But God nowhere commands them to give away _all_
they have to spare after supplying their own immediate wants. Men
are perfectly justified in storing up for the future, in laying
aside, and allowing to increase what they have no need of at the
present. And it's the part of a thoughtful man who likes to make the
most of his advantages and opportunities so to do.
Say what people, demagogues, and unprincipled orators may, and envy
them as they do, those who increase wealth in an honest way have an
unquestionable claim upon our respect. They are, as it were, the
sinews of human society. Wealth is a mighty agent in the spread
of civilization and good. Without wealth, railroads could not be
constructed, ships could not be launched, towns, mansions, and
harbors could not be built, most of the conveniences and comforts
of civilized life could not be secured. Barbarous nations, you will
find, are always poor. This man, from all accounts, did not acquire
his riches by defrauding his neighbors or by wild and hazardous
speculations, but in the exercise of a legitimate and respectable
calling; he was entitled to it, he was deservedly respected. Nor
did he--in this there was also a degree of wisdom--deny himself the
comforts which his possessions were able to afford him. He was not
a tight-fisted, miserly fellow who half starved through fear of
spending his money, denying himself the things necessary to make
life more enjoyable. Rather the man who, like him, says to himself,
Take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, than the man who in
possession of abundance of this world's goods denies himself its
comforts.
So far, then, we have many favorable traits in his character,
some of which we might do well to imitate. He was an industrious,
skillful, contemplating, wide-awake person who, in a business,
social way, stood well with all who knew him. But this only makes
the remaining part of his conduct, which we shall now consider, all
the more deplorable.
But God said unto him, "Thou fool." Why did God address him thus?
Because, first, all his thoughts were centered upon himself. With
him everything was _I_, _myself_, and _mine_. _My fruits_, _my
goods_, says he, as if they were absolutely his own, as if he owed
them entirely to his own skill and industry, and had a right to
apply them to his own selfish ends.
The man with all his worldly wisdom--and he has many like
himself--had not mastered one very essential and elementary truth,
namely this, that nothing that we have, nothing that we are, comes
from ourselves; if we possess anything, we have either inherited
it or earned it. If we have inherited it, it is not we who gave
life, energy, power to those who have bequeathed to us what we have.
If we have earned it, it was not we who gave ourselves the active
brain, the strong arm, and steady nerve that did the work. At the
most we have improved, made the most of a gift. Our powers, moral
and intellectual, physical and spiritual, come from the Author of
our life; our life itself is a gift. "It is God who hath made us,
and not we ourselves." We do not exist as of right, we exist on
sufferance and as a matter of bounty. We are stewards, trustees. We
hold what we hold on trust, as life-tenants, for an unseen Lord.
The first thing this man ought to have done when he found that his
lands were crowned with plenty was to bow down before the heavenly
throne and say: "Father of all mercies, I thank Thee that Thou hast
remembered Thine unworthy servant, and hast so bountifully prospered
the labor of his hands." But no, he says not a word about God or to
God; all he said was about himself and to himself. "My" fruits and
"my" goods--is his language. And as he received them without thought
or thanks to God, he also used them. It is this feature which our
Lord emphasizes when he remarks: "So is he that layeth up treasure
for himself, and is not rich toward God." Selfishness is the basest
of all sins. It is the most repulsive, degraded, and degrading
form of depravity, and to our shame it must be confessed that it
is the peculiar fault of man. The whole constitution of nature is
a standing protest against it. No created object exists for its
own sake, or to serve its own ends; but everything contributes its
share to the well-being of the rest of creation. Think of the sun,
the most glorious of visible objects, how from day to day, from
year to year, it lavishes its light upon the earth, giving life and
beauty and freshness to the vegetable and animal kingdoms. Or think
of the clouds, how with unwearied constancy they drink the waters
of the ocean, not to retain them in their own bosoms, but to pour
them down in plentiful showers, both on barren mountains and on
fertile plains; or how this earth, after supplying generation after
generation, is as productive as ever, and its mines inexhaustible.
Everything, in fact, seems to teach the grand doctrine that it is
better to give than to receive. Man alone, Heaven's chief recipient,
forms the contrast. He is selfish, and herein consists his folly.
Can we think of these things, and not blush at our own selfishness?
Again, his folly appears in this, that he provided only for the
flesh, the least important part of his nature. 'Tis true, he talks
about his soul, but only in such a way as if he hardly distinguished
it from his body, and as if it ought to have been well satisfied
with the things which his body only enjoyed. "And I will say to my
soul," said he, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years;
take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." But God said to him,
"Thou fool." He talked like a madman, like one beside himself, and
hence he deserved the severest rebuke. For what is man? Not anything
that he owns; not anything material that he can so handle as to make
it serve his purpose; not even the bodily frame with which he will
part company at death. Essentially, man is a spirit, enclosed in a
bodily frame. The soul is the man, and that soul calls for first and
best consideration. The contrary course is folly.
It is quite proper for us to be careful of our bodies, to provide
things suitable for our present condition; indeed, it is necessary
to do so. Alas! that rational and heaven-born creatures should
confine their attentions exclusively to, "What shall we eat, what
shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed?" and utterly
neglect their souls, feed their bodies sumptuously every day, and
leave their souls to perish with hunger. Is this right? Is it
reasonable to do this? Man has been created for a higher purpose,
and his ambition ought to be higher than to find blessedness in
eating, drinking, and sensual pleasures. These things cannot appease
the cravings of his soul. Man needs God for his portion and Christ
for his Savior; it is only as he believes the Gospel that true peace
is his.
And, lastly, he provided only for _time_, the least important
portion of his existence. What a glorious place this world would be,
what a glorious time it would be eating, drinking, and being merry,
according to the ideal of the flesh, if--well, if it were not for
one thing. What is that? The summons quoted here in our text. "Thou
fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee." "Many years,"
the man had said. "This night," God said, and from that decree there
was no appeal and is no exception. That awful truth is applicable
to every one of woman born and just as uncertain. Look around you,
my dear hearers, within the circuit of your own experience, and see
if you do not recognize the picture in the parable--an indolent,
indifferent epicureanism whispering to itself, "Soul, take thine
ease; don't be alarmed, eat, drink, and be merry," broken in upon by
the same message flashed from heaven coming in a railway accident,
in a sinking steamer, by death in the hunting field, or the river's
waves, or by the sudden stoppage of the heart's action. "Thou fool,
this hour thy soul shall be required of thee,"--and how do you
know whether the next summons may not mean you? Learn from this
parable the terrible uncertainty of human affairs, and, above all,
learn from it the lesson of wisdom, _viz._, to look forward to the
future, to forecast as to how it will be with you when the scenes
and pursuits of this busy world will have ended. There is a life
beyond this. Be wise, then, and provide for it. How? To speak with
our text: "By being rich towards God." Hear the Gospel. Believe that
Jesus suffered and died for you, reconciled you with God and heaven.
Become members of God's kingdom on earth, the Christian Church. Make
diligent use of the means of grace, the Word and the Sacraments, and
thus be prepared and blessed in time and for eternity. Amen.