Have you ever seen the game “Hungry, Hungry Hippos?” It’s a game with four little hippo characters are attached to a tray, and then marbles are thrown into the middle of the tray, and the people have to smack the button on the back of the hippo so that their hippo goes out and gets as many of the marbles in its mouth as possible. The marbles get moved back, and dropped into a little collection tray behind it. But sometimes, people are smacking the button so hard that the marbles don’t make it into the collection tray, and they fly back out of the hippo’s mouth and into the free-for-all area again. For a few short seconds, it’s an intensely stressful game. And then, all of a sudden, all the marbles are gone. The only way to know who won the game is to count all the marbles in the collection tray once all the marbles have been eaten by these hungry little hippos.
In many ways, this game is a good descriptor of how a lot of people go through life: Get as much as you can, as fast as you can, because there’s only so much available for everyone. That’s exactly what is happening in the first part of the Gospel passage today, where we see a man come up and ask Jesus to be an arbitrator between him and his brother. One of them had gotten an inheritance, and the other one wanted half of it. The one who got the inheritance obviously didn’t want to share, and the one who didn’t get anything, wanted something. One of the obvious things that jumps out at you when you read this passage is that not much has changed in 2,000 years. After all, we can all probably tell a story about how family members fought over an inheritance.
It was common practice in that time for people to come to well known rabbis for assistance in settling a dispute, which is why this man comes to Jesus. He wants this new teacher to settle this for him – and obviously, in his favor.
But Jesus tells him he won’t do it. Instead, he tells him a parable about a very wealthy man. This man’s fields had produced an enormous amount, and he couldn’t figure out where to store it all. So he decided that he would tear down the puny little barns that he had and build bigger ones, so that he could store all this surplus food and grain for the future. And then, he thinks to himself, “I’ll just be able to take it easy. I’ll eat, drink, and be merry.” … And then he dies. And, I assume, if he had kids, they went to a certain rabbi to have the rabbi settle the dispute over the inheritance of all this surplus grain.
Years ago, one of my professors told me a story about their father, who had worked all of his life, preparing for his retirement. He had skipped vacations, instead taking the vacation day payouts to put into his retirement fund, and he had worked overtime in order to make more money. He had never rested, but was constantly working. He was looking forward to the time when he could take it easy: to eat, drink, and be merry. And maybe take several cruises and vacations to several places across the world that he had always wanted to see. And then the big day finally came. He retired from his job on a Friday, and for the first time in over forty years, he didn’t have to go to work that following Monday morning.
And it turns out he was stressed. Completely riddled with anxiety, because he had never done anything other than work, and he couldn’t figure out what to do with himself until his first vacation. Sitting and watching TV was a foreign concept. Playing golf was something he had never done. In fact, taking it easy, eating, drinking, and being merry was not something he had spent much time doing. Two weeks later – he was dead.
“I, the Teacher, when king over Israel in Jerusalem, applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven; it is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with. I saw all the deeds that are done under the sun; and see, all is vanity and a chasing after the wind.”
Our First Lesson today comes from the book of Ecclesiastes, which, along with the book of Job and the book of Proverbs, are considered “Wisdom Literature.” That is, they explore the concepts of wisdom and folly, they explore the complexity of life, and they try to offer reflections on how to find meaning in life.
The book of Ecclesiastes starts off with the teacher, who identifies himself as Qoholet, deciding that he will do everything possible in order to find meaning in life. He indulges in wine, building projects, and pursues the goal of becoming incredibly wealthy. But none of those things bring him any meaning in life. He seeks wisdom and knowledge in the current philosophies of the era, and that doesn’t help him find any meaning for his life. He watches the cycles of life and nature, and finds no meaning to aid him in life. He observes the persistent injustice in the world, and realizes that often the righteous suffer, and the wicked prosper. And then he realizes that the one true equalizer of all humanity is death. Everything else is just a hopeless chasing after the wind – nonsense that pretends to provide meaning while we are alive – but in the end, it’s all just meaningless, a chasing after the wind, because you can’t take it with you.
At the very end of the book of Ecclesiastes, after realizing that there is no lasting meaning from anything that we do here on earth, he ends the whole discussion with the idea that you should follow your heart. That is, follow the simple pleasures in life, but recognize that you will answer to God for those choices. “The end of the matter,” he says, is this: “Fear God, and keep God’s commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone.”
If we look at this guy from the parable, the one who built bigger barns, we’ll realize that his mistake was not preparing for the future. After all, preparing for the future is a good thing. Think of Joseph, who had stored up grain in Egypt during the time of famine – and Egypt was able to help all the other lands during that time because of Joseph’s foresight. It’s not that this man was thinking about the future, and by all accounts being prudent. The problem was in his motivations. Everything about this parable is “my this, my that,” and “I will …” He may have been thinking about the future, but it was all about him. God was nowhere in the picture. Nor was the thought of anyone else. It was all about his goals, and how he could benefit and seek pleasure from all of his own work.
You could argue that this man was just following his heart, just like the author of Ecclesiastes said you should do. But this man was not fearing God and keeping his commandments. He was chasing the pleasures and security of life that would never provide the true meaning to his life that he wanted it to, because he was only thinking of himself.
This is why God says to the man, “You fool! … All the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” You can’t take it with you, after all, and so if you are thinking of yourself only, then you are not rich toward God.
Which then begs the question: How do we become rich toward God?
Part of our clue comes from the context of this passage. Just before this passage, we see Jesus telling people not to worry about what they will say when they have to defend themselves in the synagogues, and before the rulers and authorities. Don’t worry, he says, because the Holy Spirit will tell you what to say when you need it. And then, immediately following this passage about the barns, Jesus says, “I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear.”
Jesus goes on, and tells them that the ravens don’t sow grain or reap the harvest, they don’t have barns, but God feeds them. He mentions the wild flowers, and tells them that these flowers don’t spin and labor, but even still, they are far more beautiful than even king Solomon decked out in his finest clothes. You are more important than the birds of the air and the flowers in the fields. So, don’t worry about anything, because God has given you everything you need. The treasure you need to focus on is the treasure in heaven – where God is.
Do not worry, Jesus says. Right before this passage about a man who thought only of himself, and how he was going to prepare to take it easy and live in the lap of luxury that he made for himself. And then Jesus says again, Do not worry.
Worry is the state of anxiety that arises when we doubt things. Worry is what grows out of uncertainty. The man in the parable who built the bigger barns had a false sense of certainty in his own preparations. But, in this world, there is no certainty.
But Jesus is saying that nothing about the Kingdom of God is uncertain.
Or, to be more specific. Jesus is saying there is certainty in God. Because God loves you and cares for you – so much more than any flower, or bird. And the certainty we gain from God extends beyond this life. So don’t worry, Jesus says, because God has already given you the kingdom.
What would life look like if you didn’t worry about anything? And I mean, nothing at all? What if you didn’t worry about where your next meal would come from, how you were going to pay rent or the mortgage, or where you would sleep? What if none of that mattered because you had complete certainty that God would provide each and every thing you needed – when you needed it?
Talk about eating, drinking, and being merry!
And if you had such certainty that God would provide, then you would most likely begin to think of all the ways in which you could invite people to join you. Because you could share out of the abundance of knowing that God would give to you what you need, when you need it. You would become more generous, and you would focus more on the here and the now.
“Do not worry,” Jesus says.
“Don’t chase after the wind,” the author of Ecclesiastes says.
“God has already given you the inheritance of the kingdom,” Jesus says, “And everything that God has is yours. In this life, and the next.”
[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on August 3, 2025.]
