'And one of the company said unto Him, Master, speak
to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me.
14. And He said unto him, Man, who made Me a judge or
a divider over you? 15. And He said unto them, Take
heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life
consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he
possesseth. 16. And He spake a parable unto them,
saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth
plentifully: 17. And he thought within himself, saying,
What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow
my fruits! 18. 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. 19. 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.
20. 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! 21. So is he that
layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward
God. 22. And He said unto his disciples, Therefore I
say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye
shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on.
23. The life is more than meat, and the body is more
than raiment'--LUKE xii. 13-23.
What a gulf between the thoughts of Jesus and those of this
unmannerly interrupter! Our Lord had been speaking solemnly as to
confessing Him before men, the divine help to be given, and the
blessed reward to follow, and this hearer had all the while been
thinking only of the share in his father's inheritance, out of
which he considered that his brother had cheated him. Such
indifference must have struck a chill into Christ's heart, and how
keenly he felt it is traceable in the curt and stern brushing aside
of the man's request. The very form of addressing him puts him at a
distance. 'Man' is about as frigid as can be. Our Lord knew the
discouragement of seeing that His words never came near some of His
hearers, and had no power to turn their thoughts even for a minute
from low objects. 'What do I care about being confessed before the
angels, or about the Holy Spirit to teach me? What I want is my
share of the paternal acres. A rabbi who will help me to these is
the rabbi for me.' John Bunyan's 'man with the muck-rake' had his
eyes so glued to the ground and the muck that he did not see the
crown hanging above him. How many of us find the sermon time a good
opportunity for thinking about investments and business!
Christ's answer is intentionally abrupt and short. It deals with
part only of the man's error, the rest of which, being an error to
which we are all exposed, and which was the root of the part special
to him, is dealt with in the parable that follows. Because the man
was covetous, he could see in Jesus nothing more than a rabbi who
might influence his brother. Our sense of want largely shapes our
conception of Christ. Many to-day see in Him mainly a social (and
economical) reformer, because our notion of what we and the world
need most is something to set social conditions right, and so to
secure earthly well-being. They who take Jesus to be first and
foremost 'a judge or a divider' fail to see His deepest work or
their own deepest need. He will be all that they wish Him to be, if
they will take Him for something else first. He will 'bid' men
'divide the inheritance' with their brethren after men have gone to
Him for salvation.
But covetousness, or the greedy clutching at more and more of
earthly good, has its roots in us all, and unless there is the most
assiduous weeding, it will overrun our whole nature. So Jesus puts
great emphasis into the command, 'Take heed, and keep yourselves,'
which implies that without much 'heed' and diligent inspection of
ourselves (for the original word is 'see'), there will be no
guarding against the subtle entrance and swift growth of the vice.
We may be enslaved by it, and never suspect that we are. Further,
the correct reading is 'from _all_ covetousness,' for it has
many shapes, besides the grossest one of greed for money. The reason
for the exhortation is somewhat obscure in construction, but plain
in its general meaning, and sufficiently represented by the
Authorised and Revised Versions. The Revised Version margin gives
the literal translation, 'Not in a man's abundance consisteth his
life, from the things which he possesseth,' on which we may note
that the second clause is obviously to be completed from the first,
and that the difference between the two seems to lie mainly in the
difference of prepositions, 'from' or 'out of in the second clause
standing instead of 'in' in the first, while there may be also a
distinction between 'abundance' and 'possessions' the former being a
superfluous amount of the latter. The whole will then mean that life
does not _consist in_ possessions, however abundant, nor does
it _come out of_ anything that simply belongs to us in outward
fashion. Not what we possess, but what we are, is the important
matter.
But what does 'life' mean? The parable shows that we cannot leave
out the notion of physical life. No possessions keep a man alive.
Death knocks at palaces and poor men's hovels. Millionaires and
paupers are huddled together in his net. But we must not leave out
the higher meaning of life, for it is eminently true that the real
life of a man has little relation to what he possesses. Neither
nobleness nor peace nor satisfaction, nor anything in which man
lives a nobler life than a dog, has much dependence on property of
any sort. Wealth often chokes the channels by which true life would
flow into us. 'We live by admiration, hope, and love,' and these may
be ours abundantly, whatever our portion of earth's riches.
Covetousness is folly, because it grasps at worldly good, under the
false belief that thereby it will secure the true good of life, but
when it has made its pile, it finds that it is no nearer peace of
heart, rest, nobleness, or joy than before, and has probably lost
much of both in the process of making it. The mad race after wealth,
which is the sin of this luxurious, greedy, commercial age, is the
consequence of a lie--that life does consist in the abundance of
possessions. It consists in knowing 'Thee the only true God, and
Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.' Is there any saying of Jesus
Christ's more revolutionary, or less believed by His professed
followers, than this?
The story of the rich fool is not a parable in the narrower meaning
of that word--that is, a description of some event or thing in the
natural sphere, transferred by analogy to the spiritual--but an
imaginary narrative exemplifying in a concrete instance the
characteristics of the class of covetous men. The first point noted
is that accumulated wealth breeds anxiety rather than satisfaction.
The man is embarrassed by his abundance. The trouble of knowing how
to keep it is as great as the labour of acquiring it, and the
enjoyment of it is still in the future. Many a rich man is more
worried about his securities than he was in making his money. There
are so many 'bags with holes' that he is at his wits' end for
investments, and the first thing he looks at in his morning's paper
is the share list, the sight of which often spoils his breakfast.
The next point is the selfish and arrogant sense of possession, as
betrayed by the repetition of 'my'--my fruits, my barns, my corn,
and my goods. He has no thought of God, nor of his own stewardship.
He recognises no claim on his wealth. If he had looked a little
beyond himself, he would have seen many places where he could have
bestowed his fruits. Were there no poor at his gates? He had better
have poured some riches into the laps of these than have built a new
barn. Corn laid up would breed weevils; dispersed, it would bring
blessings.
Again, this type of covetous men is a fool because he reckons on
'many years.' The goods may last, but will he? He can make sure that
they will suffice for a long time, but he cannot make sure of the
long time. Again, he blunders tragically in his estimate of the
power of worldly goods to satisfy. 'Eat, drink,' might be said to
his body, but to say it to his soul, and to fancy that these
pleasures of sense would put it at ease, is the fatal error which
gnaws like a worm at the root of every worldly life. The word here
rendered 'take thine ease' is cognate with Christ's in His great
promise, 'Ye shall find rest unto your souls.' Not in abundance of
worldly goods, but in union with Him, is that rest to be found which
the covetous man vainly promises himself in filled barns and
luxurious idleness.
There is a grim contrast between what the rich man said and what God
said. The man's words were empty breath; God's are powers, and what
He says is a deed. The divine decree comes crashing into the
abortive human plans like a thunder-clap into a wood full of singing
birds, and they are all stricken silent. So little does life consist
in possessions that all the abundance cannot keep the breath in a
man for one moment. His life is 'required of him,' not only in the
sense that he has to give it up, but also inasmuch as he has to
answer for it. In that requirement the selfishly used wealth will be
'a swift witness against' him, and instead of ministering to life
or ease, will 'eat his flesh as fire.' Molten gold dropping on flesh
burns badly. Wealth, trusted in and selfishly clutched, without
recognition of God the giver or of others' claims to share it, will
burn still worse.
The 'parable' is declared to be of universal application. Examples
of it are found wherever there are men who selfishly lay up
treasures for their own delectation, and 'are not rich toward God.'
That expression is best understood in this connection to mean, not
rich in spiritual wealth, but in worldly goods used with reference
to God, or for His glory and service. So understood, the two
phrases, laying up treasure for oneself and being rich towards God,
are in full antithesis.