Proper 13 August 1, 2004.

Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23

Psalm 49:1-11

Colossians 3:1-11

Luke 12-13-21

"Vanity of vanities! All is vanity" (Eccl 1:2). The narrator, Qoheleth, is venting resentments over the fragility of a life's accomplishments. The word habel, translated as "vanity," may mislead us, because in our culture it tends to suggest self-reflection (ego, mirror fixation) when the needed word should rather point to the breathy or transitory nature of life. In other words, habel needs to say that our toil under the sun is insubstantial and therefore worthless in the scope of eons. Whatever we do just gets left to those who come after us. They might not deserve all that we have accomplished! This text gives the theme of the entire book of Ecclesiastes.

The lectionary prior to the RCL used to include vv. 24-26, which offered some relief from the unrelenting despair in the current reading. It asserted that epicurean delights come from God, as do the gifts of wisdom, knowledge, and joy. The difference between the two readings (the earlier was 1:2; 2:18-26) is significant for the emphasis we have now on death and the perception that our toil on earth is nothing but "an unhappy business" (1:13). This is devastating, cold-eyed, plain talk. Might it invite the preacher to a similarly frank conversation with the congregation over how we all might value life, given the legacies we leave?

Paul's advice to the Colossians seems to directly respond to the devastating honesty of Qoheleth by insisting that life in Christ is about turning away from destructive actions and thoughts: "you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above" (v. 31). Paul's answer to the distress among the Colossians over divisive teachings they have been hearing is to name the vanities (pointless, temporal fixations) to which we humans so easily attach ourselves and to call, instead, for focus on "being renewed in knowledge according to the image of [the] creator" (v. 10). He counsels the church to "set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (vv. 2-3). By seeking that which is substantial and lasting, the actions and ways of thinking that pull the community apart will stop causing ruptures. The result will be a renewal in which distinctions between persons will cease. Then it will become clear that in Christ every person is equal: "there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!" (v. 11)

The Ecclesiastes text, ending at v. 23, ironically omits v. 24 ("There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil") and therefore does not echo, as it used to, Luke 12:19 in which the rich man decides to "eat, drink, be merry" because he has so much grain stored up in his barns. His portfolio amounts to so much wealth, he is released from any need for more toil. His possessions make for a life of ease, and on that basis he feels quite proud of himself, ready to kick back and enjoy.

This story Jesus tells of the rich farmer warns his listeners that the temptation to boast of our titles, busy calendars, 401 (k) plans, life insurance policies, families, vacation homes, political and theological correctness--in short, whatever we point to as a source of security and pride--is not what it means to be "rich toward God" (v. 21). In order to know the fruits of real life, we are to "be on guard against all kinds of greed" (v. 15).

Consider the possibility that the cynicism of Qoheleth is connected to the person in the crowd to whom Jesus addresses the tale of the rich man. The questioner wants to use Jesus as the arbiter of his inheritance dispute--a ludicrous misunderstanding of Jesus and his message. Jesus uses the question anyway, to draw a clear line between what is and is not important, but in a way that at first suggests that Jesus is saying he is not qualified for the task requested of him. Only after making this suggestion does he give the no-nonsense advice: Beware of greed! Jesus could be speaking of the brother who will not divide the inheritance, but he could also be speaking to the one who asks for mediation, telling them both that they have improperly weighed the worth of things.

It will be necessary on this Sunday for the preacher to go beyond the expected litanies against greed for money and its pitfalls. Despite the fact that Jesus talks about money more than all other concerns, American society and American churches are so accustomed to diatribes and "thou shalt nots" that we have learned to ignore most such admonitions. The preacher will have to dig deep in order to help the congregation let Christ's meaning illumine the many false senses of security held by us as individuals and as a nation.

The sermon needs to sting just enough to wake up those of us who think we've already heard everything there is to be said about bigger barns and self-congratulatory indulgences. Some words may need to be said in the larger arena, too, beyond the concerns of individuals or families, so that the nation's arrogant foreign policies and self-obsessed trade practices might become visible even in the Lukan tale of the foolish farmer.

The preacher might take to heart the words of writer and farmer Wendell Berry from an essay "Two Economies" (Home Economics):

The sin of "a certain rich man" ... seems to be that he has stored up
too much and in the process has belittled the future, for he has reduced
it to the size of his own hopes and expectations. He is prepared for a
future in which he will be prosperous, not for one in which he will be
dead. We know from our own experience that it is possible to live in the
present in such a way as to diminish the future practically as well as
spiritually. By laying up "much goods" in the present--and, in the
process, using up such goods as topsoil, fossil fuel, and fossil water--
we incur a debt to the future that we cannot repay. That is, we diminish
the future by deeds that we call "use" but that the future will call
"theft." We may say, then, that we seek the Kingdom of God, in part, by
our economic behavior, and we fail to find it if that behavior is wrong.

Most provocative is Berry's idea that the rich man "belittled the future" by diminishing its scope. How might the worship on this Sunday help to raise the expectations and hopes of the congregation? How might what the congregation speaks, sings, hears, and prays enlarge everybody's vision for individuals, families, circles of friends, neighborhoods, communities, states, nations, and indeed for the whole world? Might we speak on this day of the eschatological promises of the God who gives life itself so to set our daily choices in the largest possible frame of reference? What might it look like if the farmer had worked to less immediate profit and for greater long-term wealth and health for all people?