Luke 12:13-21

¹⁴ Jesus replied, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter between you?” ¹⁵ Then he said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”

¹⁶ And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. ¹⁷ He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’

¹⁸ “Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. ¹⁹ And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

²⁰ “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

²¹ “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.”

Do you remember the commercial tagline, "Some things money can't buy, but for everything else there is Mastercard."? One ad began:

"Formal dress: $100; date night shoes: $50; your date showing up on time: priceless!"

The filming of the 1997 ad was outside the Budapest Opera House, so I imagine that date cost more than $150! Another ad went:

Two baseball tickets: $28

Two hot dogs, two popcorns, two sodas: $18

One autographed baseball: $45

Real conversation with an eleven-year-old son: Priceless

This campaign was one of the most successful in history. The "Priceless" campaign ran for 20 years and created a 99 percent brand recall. Mastercard closed the gap against Visa's dominance in the credit card industry.

What interests me is the ad's emotional and relational framing. Ironically, a credit card company tells us that money is not what matters most. The commercial hooks into deeper values of what matters-relationships, love, memories, and belonging. It's not the stuff that matters, it's sitting the love of our life still smiling after 20 years, our children laughing, or the beauty of a sunset, especially if it is from Antigua. The best things in life, money can't buy, but wouldn't your anniversary be better in Budapest than the Tugboat Inn?

This ad was the beginning of aspirational identity marketing. The message is: you're someone who knows the actual value of things. You're wise. You're a good parent, friend, and partner. Money isn't everything, so spend it on what matters. It sells better than promoting their 18% interest rates. The "priceless" campaign tricks us into believing money can buy us happiness while congratulating us for knowing better.

It shouldn't surprise us that credit card debt is over $1.2 trillion in the US, and 37% of Americans have a maxed-out credit card. If we were to modernize Luke's parable, "You fool, this very night, MasterCard is taking your soul, freezing your account, and turning you over to the collection agencies.

When we read Luke 12, we would like to turn the rich man into Jeff Bezos or a Kardashian who lives in a world of private jets, yachts, and enjoys oysters served on chilled Carrara marble, garnished with 24 karat gold leaf and Don Perignon foam. That certainly has nothing to do with me. What does this scripture mean to those of us who may read the Tightwad Gazette, instead of Vogue?

The parable pulls me in because it wrestles with modern dilemmas about how much is enough, and where do I draw the line. I learned to save money and spend carefully. One of my favorite stories is about the ant and the grasshopper. The dutiful ant worked all summer and stored food for winter, while the grasshopper played and was lazy. But when winter came, the ants had enough to live on, and the grasshopper was cold and starving. I like the Pixar version "A Bug's Life" better because the ants organize and throw off the rule of the grasshoppers. What is so bad about the man who had a plentiful harvest to say, "Relax, eat, drink, and be merry," when he had worked hard for his savings?

Everyone needs some savings. I looked at the retirement calculator tool on the UCC Pension website. It says I will fall short of the needed $1.2 million. It projects I will run out of money between the ages of 78 and 87. What will I do? (I may need to be your pastor for a long time!) On the other hand, a million dollars sounds like a fortune. I never thought about being a millionaire. But now that is supposed to be a baseline. People in Jesus' day didn't live to be over 40, let alone 65 or 95 years old. Now we might have to save for the last third of our lives. It almost makes me feel like a hoarder, just a little greedy because I don't know what I will need in the future. Was the rich man in the Bible a fool or just facing reality?

I did a little research on the phrase, "Eat, drink, and be merry," and the source will surprise you. The book of Ecclesiastes, known for its cynicism, uses a similar phrase five times. After the famous passage about there being a time for everything, Ecclesiastes 3:12-13 says:

"I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; moreover, it is God's gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil."

Without context, the interpretation might be, "Let's get the party started!" But the deeper reflection is that life is unpredictable, wealth fleeting, and rarely satisfying. Life is random and often unjust, and we can't control things. Ultimately, death comes to us all, and you can't take anything with you. If Ecclesiastes had a bumper sticker, it would say, "Life is a glitch, and then you die. So, eat, drink, and be merry."

The deeper advice of the text is about how we face times that seem meaningless. It is essential to enjoy the moment, to find pleasure in basics like sharing a meal. The message isn't to live in excess, but rather the ethics of a potluck. Come together and enjoy each other and what you have as a gift from God.

You can drive yourself past exhaustion seeking fame, fortune, or control over people and events. Don't get too caught up in these things because they won't satisfy or save you. This philosophy is not unlike the Buddhist ideas of nonattachment and being mindful of the present moment. Nonattachment means letting go of clinging to people, possessions, outcomes, or identities, recognizing that all things are impermanent. It doesn't mean not caring—it means loving and living fully without trying to grasp or control what we cannot hold.

So, if Luke's rich man with the fabulous barn is quoting Ecclesiastes, what makes him a fool? Jesus introduces the parable with the words,

"Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions."

The Greek word for greed, pleonexia, means the insatiable desire to have more and more. Nothing is ever enough, not possessions, fame, money, success, or whatever the object of desire is. Pleonexia takes hold of the soul and degrades it, leaving it morally impaired. Plato and Aristotle understood this greed as the root cause of social injustice. Pleonexia disrupts relationships and creates imbalances in society. Greed creates inequality, war, and civic breakdown.

We get three small clues as to why the parable condemns the rich man, whom I call Mr. Bigger Barns. First, the parable says the land produced an abundance of harvest. The man's wealth is not created from nothing, but is dependent on the gift of the earth. There is no such thing as a self-made person, no matter how hard they work. All of life's essentials-air, water, land, raw materials-were here before humanity existed. We are interdependent.

Second, the man's inner dialogue is self-contained. He is not talking to his spouse, family members, or praying about what to do. What might be good for the community or others does not enter his thinking. He talks to his soul as if he owns that too, but the parable reminds him that there is part of us that God created and still belongs to God.

Third, the meaning of the word fool is striking. An "aphrone" is not stupid; rather, fools lack moral and spiritual discernment. A fool acts contrary to God and lives as if there are no consequences for their actions. As Psalm 14:1 says,

Fools say in their hearts, "There is no God."
They are corrupt; they do abominable deeds…

The bottom line is Mr. Big Barns has twisted "eat, drink, and be merry" away from being grateful and enjoying what you have with others, to justify a life of selfish excess that will not satisfy, and leads to societal injustice.

What is the remedy? How do we be rich towards God?

Ecclesiastes reminds us we don't find joy in stockpiling wealth, but in sharing a meal, enjoying our labor, and receiving each day as a gift. Jesus warns that real poverty is living for yourself alone—cut off from others, from gratitude, and God.

Plato and Aristotle saw greed not just as a personal flaw but as a threat to justice. It breaks down communities and creates inequality. The rich fool's barns weren't just too big—they were empty of compassion.

To be rich toward God is to live with open hands. It means seeing all we have—our money, our time, even our breath—as gifts to be shared. Not to build walls, but to extend tables. Not to store up, but to lift up.

Some things really are priceless. But perhaps the most priceless thing of all is a life shared in love and service, rooted in the kind of richness no card, bank, or barn can offer.