Christ Gives Contentment

In Nomine Iesu

Ecc. 2:24-25/Luke 12:15

August 5, 2007
Pentecost 10C/Proper 13

There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?
[Jesus said,] “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Do you know what it sounds like when something gets deflated? You know the sound of your bicycle tire losing air: PSSSSSSSSssssss . . . . That’s what it sounds like when something gets deflated. Let me tell you what it sounds like when a pastor gets deflated: It had been a glorious Sunday morning. The church had been packed. The music and singing had been heavenly. God’s people had been fed and nourished on the Word of God and with the body and blood of Christ. The beauty of the gospel and the promise of the resurrection had rung out loud and clear. It had been heaven on earth. As the service concluded and the pastor made his way out into the narthex, a woman came running up to him, “Pastor! Pastor! Do you know that there’s no toilet paper in the women’s restroom?” PSSSSSSSSSSssssssssss. That’s what we call deflation. And I suspect you know that feeling too.

Jesus also knows just what that feels like. Like the time in today’s Holy Gospel when He was preaching to literally thousands (12:1) of people—so many people that they were trampling one another. Jesus was preaching the kingdom of God—preaching with power, precision and insight—moving the hearts and minds of His hearers to turn from their sin and be embraced by the good news of salvation. When all of a sudden a man in the crowd stands up and yells out at Jesus, “Hey, tell my brother to split the inheritance with me!” (PPPSSSSSSSssssssssssss!) St. Luke doesn’t report it, but I wonder if Jesus sighed at that moment. It was a deflating sentence—the kind of sentence that takes the wind right out of a preacher’s sails.

This wasn’t a question about the kingdom. This wasn’t a question about Jesus or the gospel or even religion in general. It was financial, not spiritual. It reflected greed, not faith. But rather than ignore the question—rather than throw up his hands in despair—Jesus’ preaching takes a detour as He tells a story—the parable of the rich fool.

And what’s so surprising about the rich fool is that—on the surface at least—his actions don’t really seem all that foolish. Please notice that the rich man’s wealth is not ill-gotten. He didn’t get his riches through scheming or stealing or gaming or betting. No, Jesus says that his land “produced plentifully.” The land produced a good harvest—a bumper crop. His wealth came from God. Nor was the plan to built bigger barns an especially foolish plan. Without barns to store it, his crop would pile up on the ground and eventually rot. Nor is there anything foolish with his plan to “relax, eat, drink, and be merry.” Would you have done anything differently if you had been in his shoes?

But God calls the man a “fool.” I wonder why. Well, the text doesn’t say directly, but perhaps it was because the man called the crops “my crops.” Perhaps it’s because he called the barns “my barns.” Perhaps it’s because he called the grain and the goods “my grain and my goods.” The man was a fool because he didn’t acknowledge the God who is the Giver of every good and perfect gift. He simply didn’t make the connection that it’s God who gives clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, wife and children, land, animals, and all we have. He simply couldn’t fathom that all this was done for him only out of fatherly divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or worthiness in him.

It all reminds me of that old story about the farmer who was showing off his well-tended and well-developed property to his pastor. It was one of those immaculate, postcard-quality farms with a big red barn and lush fields and pastures full of livestock. The pastor kept saying things like, “My, you and the Lord have sure done well here,” and “You and the Lord have got quite an operation here.” About the fifth time the pastor used that phrase, the irate farmer finally sputtered, “Now just a doggone minute, preacher. Ya shoulda seen this place when ‘the Lord’ had it all by himself!”

No farmers here today, but we all face that farmer’s temptation—to see our goods and our money and our possessions—not as gifts from the God who loves us—but as trophies of our own achievement. Hear this loud and clear: to be wealthy is not a sin. To build bigger barns is not a sin. But to deny that God is the giver of every good thing we have—or to deny God the portion of our income that He wants us to return to Him—well, that breaks commandment number one. That’s idolatry. It’s placing ourselves and our work and our labor and our toil over and above the grace and love of God in Christ Jesus.

I’m here to tell you that if we’re just working to get more “things” and more “stuff” and a bigger bank account—well, then, we’re just a bunch of rich fools. If we’re never content and satisfied with the good things we already have—well, that’s greed, idolatry, covetousness. King Solomon writes that it’s like “chasing after the wind.” In other words, the chase for more and more and better and better is an endless chase that never satisfies.

What we need is the gift of contentment. “Godliness with contentment is great gain,” the Scriptures say (1 Tim. 6:6). I love the way King Solomon describes contentment in today’s OT reading: “There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This . . . I saw is from the hand of God.” Being satisfied with what we have—being content with what God so graciously gives us—that itself is a gift from God. It’s the gift of contentment. Do you have that gift?

There was one man who was perfectly content—a man who found perfect fulfillment in the work He was given to do. His work, He said, was to do the will of the Father. And the work He did, He did for you and for your salvation. As a true man like you, Jesus toiled and labored under the same hot sun that shines down on us on these dog days of summer. With all knowledge, wisdom and skill Jesus set out to do the work His Father had appointed for Him. On Good Friday His work reached its climax. His work on that day was a labor of pain and grief. And all that He accomplished at that place called “Golgotha”—the forgiveness of sins, opening of the kingdom of heaven to all believers—these precious gifts Jesus gives away—gives away to those who follow Him in faith. You didn’t work for it. You didn’t earn it. You don’t deserve it. That’s why we call it “grace.”

In your baptism Jesus filled that empty void inside of you with His Holy Spirit, who daily and richly forgives all your sins. And in place of those sins, Jesus gives you His perfect record of obedience. His perfect work record now belongs to you, and your future is now tied to Christ. “You died,” Paul writes, “and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.” In that resurrection promise you have contentment. You don’t have to run on empty. You don’t have to wear yourself ragged in the rat race of life. You can be content with what you have because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Heb. 13:5).

Jesus Christ gives contentment. His work and His labor give eternal meaning and significance to your life. As a baptized child of God, as one who hears His Word, as one fed and nourished with the body and blood of Jesus—your God is pleased with you for Jesus’ sake. And to the one who pleases Him, God gives wisdom, knowledge, joy and contentment. So let it begin today. Quit chasing after the wind—after bigger and better and more. Be content with what God has given you. Count your blessings instead. Rejoice in your work. And find real contentment in Christ Jesus. Amen.