I don’t want to live as if happiness or success is one great project or accomplishment away. I want to stop this frantic climb to nowhere. The pursuit of greatness keeps us from greatness. The pursuit of happiness keeps us from happiness. The pursuit of love keeps us from love. Because those are things we don’t have to chase or earn; they’re right here in the everyday. But I don’t think we can see any of it until we intentionally decide: what does enough mean to me?

~ Glennon Doyle Melton p 358 “We Can Do Hard Things”

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get Jesus to show up and settle all of our disputes? You know, just come right out and tell us who is right and who is wrong and what everybody needs to do to get things back on track?

Jesus, tell my brother to split the inheritance with me.

Jesus, tell my sister to come help me in the kitchen.

Jesus, tell my kid to stop scrolling on their phone and join us here in reality.

Tell my dad to stop watching that news channel and join us here in reality.

Tell Israel to let aid into Gaza.

Tell ICE to let my people go.

Tell my husband he has enough clothes.

Tell my wife she has enough tools.

Tell my neighbor that car they bought for their daughter is way too much and that the money they spent on it would’ve been better off given to the poor.

Jesus, over here! Jesus, over there! For the love of God, Jesus, would you come on down and set these people straight once and for all.

But Jesus doesn’t do that. He didn’t set himself up as a judge over people back then, any more than he sets himself up as judge amongst us now. In fact, in today’s reading I think it is telling that he doesn’t take sides with one brother over the other. Instead, he says: “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed.”

“Be on your guard,” he says, meaning beware…. watch out… pay attention - not to them - but to yourself.

“Be on your guard against all kinds of greed,” and the truth is he could be saying that to either brother, but he’s probably speaking to both. “Be on your guard;” and I don’t know about you, but I can’t hear this parable without feeling like he is actually looking right through these two brothers straight at me.

Because I am a fool.

I am as foolish as these two brothers arguing over their inheritance. I am as foolish as the rich man in this parable who tore down perfectly good barns to build even bigger ones to hold even more stuff than he could ever use, let alone need.

I am a fool, and not just because I returned from vacation with new clothes that I didn’t really need and can’t quite fit into my dresser. (Anyone else do that on vacation? I feel you. Between all the outlets and the summer sales, it’s really hard not to buy stuff.)

And I confess that when I was unpacking I felt a lot less conflicted about my unnecessary purchases and a lot more annoyed by my lack of closet space than I probably would have if I’d known I’d be preaching on this parable today. So, um, thanks Jesus.

My over-consumption, your over-consumption, our collective overconsumption, that is a problem that this parable definitely speaks to, and I could preach today about materialism.

But I think we already know that we have too much stuff and that at the end of the day more stuff does not make us happy. Doesn’t stop us from buying more stuff, but we also know that’s not entirely our fault. I think it’s fair to say that the number one product we manufacture here in America is a false sense of need.

And it makes sense.

When you live in a capitalist society that depends on your economy constantly growing, that economy’s number one objective will always be to generate want.

That irresistible feeling you get when you see that something is 50% off or so new and improved that you’d be a fool not to buy it, is simply the water we’re swimming in. And I imagine that if Jesus feels anything for us in the midst of all this, it’s compassion.

But there is a deeper truth behind this insatiable desire for more that I want to dig into with you this morning. And I am as tangled up in it as anyone else.

Like I said, I am a fool. I am a fool because in spite of my love for you and this church and the ministry we have here together, there is a part of me that did not want to come back home from vacation… at all. I am a fool because there is a part of me that is convinced that the joy and connection and peace I feel when I’m up in Maine can only be accessed there and I am greedy for more of it.

I want more. More time off. More quiet. More beauty. More long walks before breakfast and leisurely conversations over dinner with the people I love. More time to read through the books at the local library. More time rocking on the porch with a cup of tea in the morning listening to bird song. More time to sip on my sister-in-law’s limoncello mint mojitos as we watch the sun set and wait for the stars to fall.

I want more of that, and there is a part of me that thinks that the only way to secure more of that for the future is to come home right now, put my nose to the grindstone, and work for however many years I need to until I have enough in reserve to retire.

Only then, when I’ve worked enough and saved enough, can I finally stop working with such single minded purpose and move to that magical place were I can live that way all of the time.

And though I am a fool, I’m not entirely wrong. I mean in order to retire you do need to put away money and because none of us know how long our retirement years will last, we do need to hedge our bets and plan for the best case scenario, which means saving more money than we think we will need.

Now of course, if I knew I was going to die tomorrow, sure I’d be up in Maine right now. But I don’t know, and you don’t know either.

If you knew you were gonna die tomorrow, you might well quit your job or skip out on your obligations and go to your favorite place on earth right now too.

Which doesn’t mean that how we are living and working here isn’t worthwhile or meaningful. But it does mean, that we can get so consumed by the obligations in our lives, so locked in to unhealthy patterns of stress and overwork, so focused on preparing for a future we can’t fully anticipate, that we miss all the good that’s happening right in front of us.

And if you miss enough of those moments, if you fail to ever be present in the here and now, if you’re always living with your eyes on the horizon in anticipation of what is coming next rather than truly living in the present, you’re never really living at all. You fool, your life has already passed you by whether you die tomorrow or not.

Annie Dillard once said that, “how we live our days is how we live our lives.”

Thich Nhat Hanh says "The best way to take care of the future is to take care of the present moment.”

And that’s where our heroes in today’s story have gone off track. These two brothers have stopped taking care of each other in the present and allowed this inheritance to come between them. Their hopes and fears for the future, their desire for security, their greed - not just for money, but for the false sense of power and control that money gives us - has become more important to them then their relationship with each other.

And so Jesus tells them a story about a man who thinks he has finally made it. And in many ways, he has.

Thanks to a good harvest this rich man now has more than he could ever need or use. When it comes to the future, all his bets are hedged. But in spite of all he has achieved or accomplished, there is something missing. Listen again to what the man says. Listen again to how he talks, because it's weird:

          “The land of a rich man produced abundantly,” said Jesus, “and he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' 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.  And I will say (to who?) to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’

Jesus tells us the story of a man who might, at first glance, seem to have everything we think we want, but if we take a closer look we see that he doesn’t have the one thing we all really need: other people. No wonder God calls him a fool.  All that wealth for one man. All that food for one plate.  All that wine for one cup. All that stuff and no one to share it with.  How poor can a rich man be? According to Jesus, very poor indeed. 

Jesus wants these two brothers to realize they are foolish for prioritizing their inheritance over their relationship with one other. He wants us to see that the rich man was foolish for prioritizing his own security over any relationship at all.

And yet, how many of us work so hard or get so focused on squirreling away our wealth for a rainy day that we miss out on what we could do right now. How many of us put off caring for the people right in front of us precisely because we care about the people right in front of us? How many of us have let money come between us and the people we love?

Just a little more money, we tell ourselves, or a little more overtime. I’ll have more time for the kids once the book is finished. I’ll be more present to my partner once the kids are launched. After I get tenure. After I make partner. After she pays me back. After. After. After.

How many people fall into the trap of thinking that after we have completed this one last thing then we can really tune in or drop out or just live life the way we really want to and enjoy the people we truly love because then we’ll have made it; then we will be safe?

But here’s the hard truth at the heart of this parable: there is no safe.

There is no safe… and Jesus knows that better than anyone, which is why, in spite of the harshness of this story, I don’t hear judgment in his tone.

I don’t hear Jesus saying: “Got you, you foolish rich man, and now you’re gonna get what you deserve.” Honestly, I think whenever we find ourselves in this sort of situation, it breaks his heart more than anything else. It makes God sad, because God didn’t make us to be secure here forever.  God made us to love and there’s nothing secure about that - nothing secure at all - and there never will be.

Because, you see, if the true object of our love is one another and the time we have here is fleeting, you’re going to lose what you love no matter how hard you work. Which makes it all the more important that you love now, that you love well, that you don’t wait till everything is all lined up or safe before you enjoy this life.  No! Eat, drink and be merry now, with the people you love. Now. Now. Now. While you still can.

You don’t have to wait. You don’t have to earn joy or merriment or rest and you can’t earn a perfectly safe future… because there is no such thing. Right? I mean, I think that’s true. I don’t know. The truth is, I’m still wrestling with all of this and I probably will awhile longer.

But I do know this… the very best meals I’ve ever had were not at fancy restaurants. The most restful experiences I’ve ever had were not at pricey spas.

The luminous moments, the times when I felt the most loved, the most alive, were all free, spontaneous, moments I fell into - not because I planned it that way or earned any of it, but simply because I was present in the moment to the people I loved and who loved me right back. Present, because I made them the priority.

And you know what I realized as I was writing this? All the things I love and long for most about my time in Maine are actually here too - birdsong and long conversations, sunsets and star falls - and they are all free. I just have to let my greed and fear go so I can make time for them, time and space to be present to what I already have and the people I already love.

Friends, more does not equal better, unless by more you mean more to share, because in the end it’s not our stuff or our accomplishments that matter, it’s what we do with them.

It is only the relationships we nourish along the way, the suffering we can ease in the here and now, the good we can do in this very moment, that gives wealth worth or life meaning.

To think otherwise is simply foolish, which is why I love this parable as much I need it and maybe you do too. Amen.