Rich Toward God

Preaching Texts: Acts 4:32-35; 5:1-11; Luke 12:13-21

Prayer: Lord, take our eyes and see through them,
Take our lips and speak through them,
Take our hands and work through them,
Take our hearts and set them on fire.

My goodness. What is going on in that second reading from the Acts of the Apostles? It begins on a positive note, telling us that the Christian community in the early first century was “of one heart and soul…no one claimed private ownership of possessions, but everything was held in common.” Doesn’t that sound ideal? Everyone was getting along just fine. The Acts of the Apostles was written by the evangelist Luke, and he takes great pains to emphasize the complete unity of the community, encapsulated in the Greek word ‘homothumadon.’ Everything is homothumadon. A community where everyone gets along, sharing everything—no private property, no greed. Everyone agrees—of one mind, unity, harmony. It sounds like a dream come true.

But if we’ve lived in the world long enough, we know real life isn’t always so picture-perfect. Even in the early church, as Paul’s letters reveal, there were disagreements. Paul is always having to address disagreements within the communities he had helped to establish. And it seems that Luke’s community in Acts also struggled with this idea of holding everything in common. Reality set in.

And so, Luke inserts a cautionary tale about Ananias and his wife, Sapphira. After selling some property, they decided to keep a little something for themselves. Peter confronts Ananias, and he admits it—then he drops dead. A few hours later, Sapphira comes in, lies about the sale, and she too is struck down. Pretty extreme, isn’t it? Luke uses this story to show how seriously the early Christian community took the commitment to sharing and living as one. But in a capitalist society like ours, this can feel alien and harsh.

The gospel today is a little less dramatic than the Acts story, but the message hits just as hard. There are two moments that stand out for me. First, when Jesus says, “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” And second, the parable of the rich man who built bigger barns only to die before he could eat, drink, and be merry.

As usual, context is everything. The man who asks Jesus to arbitrate over his inheritance is the younger brother. By the inheritance laws of the time, the older brother would receive a larger share—he had to care for the family and settle debts. But the younger brother wants a bigger cut. Jesus calls out his greed and tells the parable. The rich man builds barns to hoard his abundance, but in doing so, he isolates himself from the needs of others. His life is demanded that very night, and he learns too late that his possessions cannot save him. This is a parable about greed—about the resistance to sharing. The younger brother wanted more for himself, and the rich man wanted to hoard his wealth rather than sharing it with his community. In storing away his abundance, the rich man was not just making plans for the future—he was keeping resources from others, affecting the market, impacting lives, all because of his desire to hold on to more.

I’m reminded of the comedian George Carlin, who had a sketch about people’s obsession with accumulating stuff. “We build houses for our little pile of stuff. We move our stuff from here to there. We even pay other people to watch our stuff!” Does that sound familiar? When we look at the rich man in the parable, we see the same impulse. His bigger barns were just more storage for things he couldn’t take with him. And as Jesus points out, life isn’t found in the abundance of possessions. That’s what this parable seems to be about: the dangers of greed and the illusions of security we build around our material wealth.

Sometimes it takes the loss of what is most valuable to realize what truly matters. Losing our earthly things helps us to see the things above. My favorite collect in the prayerbook conveys this: “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure.”

Today we celebrate St. Francis, who would have read about homothumadon, the cautionary tale of Ananias and Sapphira, and the parable of the rich fool. He took these lessons to heart. Francis came from wealth—he was a spoiled child, freely spending his parents’ money. But after a profound conversion experience, he renounced it all—his family name, his wealth, his possessions—and embraced a life of poverty and service. Francis became a prophetic challenge to a Church that had lost its way with its own excess. He traveled to Rome and called the Pope and the Church to task, initiating the growth of mendicant orders—men and women who took the command to share all things in common very seriously. They chose to live among the poor. Francis’ life was a living parable—he showed the world that true wealth doesn’t lie in material abundance but in giving, serving, and living in community.

In the end, the rich man in the parable wasn’t condemned for simply having wealth; he was condemned for what he did with it—for hoarding instead of sharing, for isolating himself instead of living in community. His abundance became a curse because he failed to see the opportunity it gave him to bless others. Francis saw the truth that the rich man missed. He knew that true wealth isn’t found in possessions, but in a life lived generously, with open hands and an open heart.

While the rich fool built walls around his things, Francis tore his walls down, embrace the world with love and trust in God. He invites us to do the same—not to give away everything we have, but to loosen our grip, to let go of the fear that there is never enough, to trust in God’s abundance. He invites us to live richly, not in the things we own, but in the way we share, the way we love, the way we give ourselves to the world. As we remember Francis today, we can ask ourselves: What walls have we built around our things? Where do we hold on too tightly? What could we release so that we could truly be rich toward God?

Being rich toward God is not just about wealth. It’s about choosing to see the beauty of creation all around us, about seeing each moment as a gift, about living with joy, wonder, and gratitude. It’s about stepping into the world like Francis did—with open arms and an open heart, embracing the joy and wonder of our pets, this earth, and each other. Today we are invited to live with that same spirit of generosity—filling our hearts with gratitude, sharing our abundance, and walking freely in the love of God. Amen.