forest hill 
August 3, 2025
Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
“Being Rich”
Jesus had a lot to say about money – most of it quite uncomfortable. He told the rich young ruler to sell everything and give it to the poor; he overturned the tables of the money-changers; he took sides with tenant farmers against absentee landlords; he wanted people paid for a day’s work when they’d only laboured for an hour; he suggested that a beggar like Lazarus would have a better life in the hear-after than the rich man who never threw Lazarus a penny; and he told the story we’re reading this week about the rich man who invested everything he earned into bigger and better warehouses, only to discover that he landed at the Pearly Gates with empty pockets.
We Christians get moralistic about all sorts of things that Jesus seldom (if ever!) talked about, but money seems to have been one of Jesus’ major pre-occupations. I sometimes wonder if we obsess about sex or gender or marriage or divorce because it distracts us from the multitude of much more uncomfortable things Jesus says about money!
So what’s Jesus’ trouble with money? Why does he say so many negative things about the rich? And how should we take those seriously?
The story of the Rich Fool that we’re reading this week is a useful challenge to our obsession with getting rich, but it’s hardly original. As long as humans have had money, we’ve had people declaring that you can’t take it with you. Jesus wasn’t the first, and certainly wasn’t the last, to poke holes in the notion that chasing after wealth would make you happier, stronger, or morally superior to those who just get by. The world measures success by all sorts of questionable yard sticks … but at the end of the day, most of us just want our lives to count for something. As the saying goes, “no one ever said on their death bed that they wished they’d spent more time at the office!”
The problem that we, and Jesus, have with money is about the ways that we use it to measure the value of a life. If a person’s worth in the world is measured by the size of their house, or their car, or their bank account, it’s no wonder that we dedicate so much of our energy to enlarging those things. And since generosity and compassion deplete our bank accounts, of course it only makes sense to be suspicious of that kind of behaviour. No wonder the biggest bully in town shakes down the weaker ones with tariffs and taxes and threats. In our world “the one with the most toys when they die, wins.”
We say these things … but the pursuit of money is still awfully seductive. We want the Likes, the approval, the pleasure of proving to our friends that we haven’t missed out. We want our videos to go viral, and our vacations to be envied. We want to hide our shortcomings and trumpet our accomplishments. We the things our money can buy because it proves we’re winning the battle.
Or does it?
Are we really willing to give up even a few of those toys, so that someone else could have a few more? Are we really willing to live as though generosity is a better measure of a person’s worth than the size of the bling they wear? Are we truly prepared to take a decrease in our own standard of living, on the strength of the notion that there are goals more important than wealth? Paying more than lip-service to Jesus’ ideals will cost us.
Money is like fire – it can keep you warm, or it can burn you to death. Money can offer you the power to add mightily to the kindness and joy in the world, or it can enslave you to a life of always feeling like you’re missing out. Money is a tool, not a goal; a way of making a difference, not an objective to pursue or a measure of success. It’s what you do with your money that demonstrates your character, your values, your purpose, and your dreams.
It’s what I do with my money that leads people to judge me. Nobody knows the number in my bank account; but lots of people see the choices I make. That’s what they’ll talk about on my death bed!
The reason Jesus talks so much about money is that he wants to prod us into deeper love, stronger generosity, and bolder justice.
Join us on Sunday as we ponder how to bring Jesus’ warmth into the coldness of the world around us, and measure our success by the sorts of things we’d like to be remembered for.