My dear parishioners, If you have traveled through states north and east of Texas, driving on farm-to-market roads, your memories of spectacular scenery are vivid and intense. Certainly one of the most attractive and contemplative scenes imaginable is a thriving, well-kept family farm. The traditional American farm is easily identified by its barn, its most essential structure.
By walking into his neighbor’s barn, a farmer could observe much about his friend’s situation in life. The stock, tackle, gear and gathered harvest rendered a silent narrative of prosperity or poverty, a wordless forecast of hopes and dreams for the next growing season.
In telling the story of the rich fool, Our Lord does not assail wealth itself whatever its form may be, nor does he revile persons for being well-to-do. He does condemn malignant selfishness, however, the corrosive and vulgar avarice that unveils itself when one has more than enough yet turns his back on the family or community through which he has obtained his wealth.
Greed may be described as the metropolis of all evil. It is never simple. Habitual and unrestrained greed is a highly rationalized and sophisticated web of predation. Many persons suffer spiritually, even grievously so, without having any conscious awareness of this. Recalling Jesus’ parable, it is not difficult to realize that one can hoard or control people with much the same intention as the foolish farmer and his harvest.
Unique among all of Our Lord’s parables is the appearance of the divine person of God. In no other parable do we hear the Lord’s soul-shattering majestic voice. We would do well to meditate on why Jesus reserves any mention of God’s direct and solemn intervention to the problem of greed. Let us reflect then and reform our lives while there is still time.
A human being's true wealth is the unconditional offering of his life to God. For his part, God expects his divine generosity to be requited tangibly and universally throughout the matrix of human relationships -- that the world may learn from the Church the meaning of benevolentia (Lat. the human will being disposed to good), how to care for the materially impoverished, and to comfort the poor in spirit. [cf. Mt 5:3]
Confident in the mysterious truth that one may possess only what he shares, the faithful follower of Jesus Christ loves his neighbor as himself [cf. Mt 22:39] and lavishly serves the needy, the hungry and the homeless. The person whom the world condemns as rubbish is the treasure our risen Lord clutches tightly to his breast. Thus the Church discovers in her poorer members the very presence of Christ in her midst.
By walking into your home, a visitor can observe much about your state of affairs and the things you prize. When a neighbor enters into your life, you unknowingly reveal a wealth of information: your values, your intentions, the character of your relationships with others, and the spirit which animates your heart.
Without exception, the living history of every person’s life is narrated by two voices. One is the public narrative he embellishes with his own words. The other is the silent, cumulative chronicle of his actions. Both articulate what one treasures at the center of his life. Central to Our Lord’s message is his teaching that actions validate words. Offering a cup of water, a plate of food, a shirt, a bed. Visiting at a hospital bedside or jail cell. Praying at a grave. “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” [Col 3:17] Sincerely in the hearts of Jesus and Mary. Your pastor, Reverend Richard Barker.
My dear parishioners, If you have traveled through states north and east of Texas, driving on farm-to-market roads, your memories of spectacular scenery are vivid and intense. Certainly one of the most attractive and contemplative scenes imaginable is a thriving, well-kept family farm. The traditional American farm is easily identified by its barn, its most essential structure.