A man in the crowd interrupted Jesus with a demand: Tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me. It sounded fair enough, but Jesus didn’t grant it. Instead, he told a story. A rich man’s land produced such a bumper crop that he ran out of storage. So he decided to tear down his barns and build bigger ones. Sorted, he thought. Security, ease, a future assured. But God called him a fool: This very night your life will be demanded from you. Luke 12:13-21

Jesus wasn’t condemning wealth, but the illusion that it can secure us. The man in the parable wasn’t wicked, just self-focused. He mistook abundance for arrival and comfort for meaning. He didn’t see that life is more than possessions; it’s about what we do with them.

We live in a culture that glorifies accumulation, bigger homes, fuller wardrobes, more clicks, more likes. But Jesus speaks of being rich toward God: storing treasure that doesn’t rust or rot. That kind of richness isn’t about having nothing, it’s about holding things lightly, giving freely, and living with open hands.

This parable invites us to stop and take stock. What are we building? Who are we becoming? Are we storing up things that vanish, or investing in things that endure; love, kindness, compassion, courage?

Jesus offers no condemnation here, just a piercing question and a gentle call: live for more. Give freely. Love well. Let your life be shaped not by the barns you build, but by the grace you carry into the world.