Say what people, demagogues, and unprincipled orators may, and envy them as they do, those who increase wealth in an honest way have an unquestionable claim upon our respect. They are, as it were, the sinews of human society. Wealth is a mighty agent in the spread of civilization and good. Without wealth, railroads could not be constructed, ships could not be launched, towns, mansions, and harbors could not be built, most of the conveniences and comforts of civilized life could not be secured. Barbarous nations, you will find, are always poor. This man, from all accounts, did not acquire his riches by defrauding his neighbors or by wild and hazardous speculations, but in the exercise of a legitimate and respectable calling; he was entitled to it, he was deservedly respected. Nor did he—in this there was also a degree of wisdom—deny himself the comforts which his possessions were able to afford him. He was not a tight-fisted, miserly fellow who half starved through fear of spending his money, denying himself the things necessary to make life more enjoyable. Rather the man who, like him, says to himself, Take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry, than the man who in possession of abundance of this world's goods denies himself its comforts.
So far, then, we have many favorable traits in his character, some of which we might do well to imitate. He was an industrious, skillful, contemplating, wide-awake person who, in a business, social way, stood well with all who knew him. But this only makes the remaining part of his conduct, which we shall now consider, all the more deplorable.
But God said unto him, "Thou fool." Why did God address him thus? Because, first, all his thoughts were centered upon himself. With him everything was I, myself, and mine. My fruits, my goods, says he, as if they were absolutely his own, as if he owed them entirely to his own skill and industry, and had a right to apply them to his own selfish ends.
The man with all his worldly wisdom—and he has many like himself—had not mastered one very essential and elementary truth, namely this, that nothing that we have, nothing that we are, comes from ourselves; if we possess anything, we have either inherited it or earned it. If we have inherited it, it is not we who gave life, energy, power to those who have bequeathed to us what we have. If we have earned it, it was not we who gave ourselves the active brain, the strong arm, and steady nerve that did the work. At the most we have improved, made the most of a gift. Our powers, moral and intellectual, physical and spiritual, come from the Author of our life; our life itself is a gift. "It is God who hath made us, and not we ourselves." We do not exist as of right, we exist on sufferance and as a matter of bounty. We are stewards, trustees. We hold what we hold on trust, as life-tenants, for an unseen Lord. The first thing this man ought to have done when he found that his lands were crowned with plenty was to bow down before the heavenly throne and say: "Father of all mercies, I thank Thee that Thou hast remembered Thine unworthy servant, and hast so bountifully prospered the labor of his hands." But no, he says not a word about God or to God; all he said was about himself and to himself. "My" fruits and "my" goods—is his language. And as he received them without thought or thanks to God, he also used them. It is this feature which our Lord emphasizes when he remarks: "So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." Selfishness is the basest of all sins. It is the most repulsive, degraded, and degrading form of depravity, and to our shame it must be confessed that it is the peculiar fault of man. The whole constitution of nature is a standing protest against it. No created object exists for its own sake, or to serve its own ends; but everything contributes its share to the well-being of the rest of creation. Think of the sun, the most glorious of visible objects, how from day to day, from year to year, it lavishes its light upon the earth, giving life and beauty and freshness to the vegetable and animal kingdoms. Or think of the clouds, how with unwearied constancy they drink the waters of the ocean, not to retain them in their own bosoms, but to pour them down in plentiful showers, both on barren mountains and on fertile plains; or how this earth, after supplying generation after generation, is as productive as ever, and its mines inexhaustible. Everything, in fact, seems to teach the grand doctrine that it is better to give than to receive. Man alone, Heaven's chief recipient, forms the contrast. He is selfish, and herein consists his folly. Can we think of these things, and not blush at our own selfishness?
Again, his folly appears in this, that he provided only for the flesh, the least important part of his nature. 'Tis true, he talks about his soul, but only in such a way as if he hardly distinguished it from his body, and as if it ought to have been well satisfied with the things which his body only enjoyed. "And I will say to my soul," said he, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." But God said to him, "Thou fool." He talked like a madman, like one beside himself, and hence he deserved the severest rebuke. For what is man? Not anything that he owns; not anything material that he can so handle as to make it serve his purpose; not even the bodily frame with which he will part company at death. Essentially, man is a spirit, enclosed in a bodily frame. The soul is the man, and that soul calls for first and best consideration. The contrary course is folly.
It is quite proper for us to be careful of our bodies, to provide things suitable for our present condition; indeed, it is necessary to do so. Alas! that rational and heaven-born creatures should confine their attentions exclusively to, "What shall we eat, what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed?" and utterly neglect their souls, feed their bodies sumptuously every day, and leave their souls to perish with hunger. Is this right? Is it reasonable to do this? Man has been created for a higher purpose, and his ambition ought to be higher than to find blessedness in eating, drinking, and sensual pleasures. These things cannot appease the cravings of his soul. Man needs God for his portion and Christ for his Savior; it is only as he believes the Gospel that true peace is his.
And, lastly, he provided only for time, the least important portion of his existence. What a glorious place this world would be, what a glorious time it would be eating, drinking, and being merry, according to the ideal of the flesh, if—well, if it were not for one thing. What is that? The summons quoted here in our text. "Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee." "Many years," the man had said. "This night," God said, and from that decree there was no appeal and is no exception. That awful truth is applicable to every one of woman born and just as uncertain. Look around you, my dear hearers, within the circuit of your own experience, and see if you do not recognize the picture in the parable—an indolent, indifferent epicureanism whispering to itself, "Soul, take thine ease; don't be alarmed, eat, drink, and be merry," broken in upon by the same message flashed from heaven coming in a railway accident, in a sinking steamer, by death in the hunting field, or the river's waves, or by the sudden stoppage of the heart's action. "Thou fool, this hour thy soul shall be required of thee,"—and how do you know whether the next summons may not mean you? Learn from this parable the terrible uncertainty of human affairs, and, above all, learn from it the lesson of wisdom, viz., to look forward to the future, to forecast as to how it will be with you when the scenes and pursuits of this busy world will have ended. There is a life beyond this. Be wise, then, and provide for it. How? To speak with our text: "By being rich towards God." Hear the Gospel. Believe that Jesus suffered and died for you, reconciled you with God and heaven. Become members of God's kingdom on earth, the Christian Church. Make diligent use of the means of grace, the Word and the Sacraments, and thus be prepared and blessed in time and for eternity. Amen.
TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it.—1 Cor. 12, 12 and 26.