You Fool; Your Life Will Be Demanded of You Tonight

Jesus uses the parable of the prosperous farmer wondering what he should do with his bountiful harvest. His silos weren’t big enough, so he devised a plan to tear down the old ones and replace them with bigger ones. His good fortune led him to believe his future was secure for many years, and he concluded it was now time for him to rest, eat, drink, and be merry.

In modern-day terms, the farmer’s mentality is strikingly similar to that of those who have spent years building up their investments or IRAs and looking to their future retirement. The idea is to stash away cash now so life can be filled with rest, eating, and merry.

The plan seems rational and sound on its face. But Jesus throws the theory a curveball when he mentions in the parable a teaching few of us would like to hear, “‘You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong? ‘Thus, will it be for all who store up treasure for themselves, but are not rich in what matters to God.”

The message is clear: no one knows the time or place their earthly life will end. Although we can plan for the future, it may never materialize. Human experience has shown us much, yet most people would rather ignore the possibility when it comes to their own lives.

One of the fundamental challenges Christians confront and struggle with is the tension between being responsible in their earthly lives and storing up treasures in heaven. The intersection of the temporal world and our spiritual life is never a 50-50 equation. Our cares and concerns in the present far outweigh our future concerns of eternal life. This week’s parable suggests that, like the farmer, the possibility of dying may come quickly after making grandiose plans.  Does the mention of the fragility of life give us pause to consider how many possessions we have and to whom they will go?

When you pass by an estate sale sign in your neighborhood, be reminded of the inevitable fact that the articles once revered by the owner or having an emotional attachment are nothing more than things to be sold in a commercial transaction. These owners of the trinkets have experienced the night their life was demanded of them, and all they have acquired stays here.

The second reading from St. Paul can help us navigate the intersection between our earthly possessions and our true home in heaven, following Christian belief.  He says, “Seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” 

St. Paul instructs the Colossians on correct Christian thinking. He states that the very meaning of a Christian is the reality that through our baptism, we have already died in Christ. We are to live with the knowledge that our earthly life is transitory and live with one foot in heaven and the other on earth.

If we have integrated the Christian belief about already experiencing our death in Christ, our perspective of earthly life changes. By already experiencing our death in Christ, it changes how we understand our life, mainly when it refers to the possessions we have accumulated.

Living out our deaths while still here is the impetus for how we should view material wealth. We own nothing, not in a communist sense, but the truth is that all we have is not ours; we are stewards of those gifts. We may say we own our car or house loosely, but those possessions are on loan. The money and things we have saved will be passed on once our earthly journey ends.

When we finally agree that we own nothing, the opening can cause a reprioritization of how to live with one foot in heaven and the other on earth. By being committed Christians, we can properly inventory how much time and effort we have put into this world and how much we have done to prepare for our future life in heaven.  With a strong belief, maybe we can spend only 50% of our time on temporal things and the other half on what matters.