The Rich Fool

I read somewhere that Rockefeller was asked how much money would satisfy him. His answer? More. In the part of the Philippines where I reside, there are vast tracts of land, thousands of hectares, owned by one family. In the past three years, according to Ibon Foundation, the net worth of the richest Filipinos almost doubled.

Historians tell us that in First Century Palestine practically all the land was either owned or controlled by the ruling elite. And, yes, this group included the religious leaders.

In the parable, the rich man had a problem. His harvest was so plentiful his barns were not enough to contain them. The solution? Bring down his old barns and build bigger ones. Half of the population then was slowly starving to death. Sharing? Never crossed his mind.

He died that night.

Scientists tell us that 666 billion dollars can address the world's biggest problems: poverty, hunger, illiteracy, health and sanitation... But the world's richest actually spends more and more and more each year on weapons of mass destruction. Last year, 1.7 trillion dollars!

Sharing? Tragically, like yesterday and tomorrow, 25,000 children from the poorest countries, aged 5 and younger, would be dead from starvation tonight.

The Fig Tree

For three years the owner of the Fig tree has waited. For three years he was patient. For three years he longed for one thing, fruit from his tree. Three years pass and there were none. So he orders his gardener to chop it down. Waste of good soil. His gardener pleads, "Give it another year. I will dig around it and put manure." Give it another year.

We call them people with "green thumbs." People who love plants. People who sing and talk to them like they were people. People like the gardener who pleads, "Give it another year." People who celebrate the inter-connectedness of all life. People who believe in second chances for everyone.

Then there are people who treat everything as property. As commodity. As disposable. And a handful of them just acquired over 600,000 square kilometers of prime agricultural land. For development. For profit.

And I am sure, they will chop down not just Fig trees.

The Two Sons

The Gospel of Matthew used this Jesus parable to address the hypocrisy of the religious leaders of his time (about 60 years after Jesus's ministry). For Matthew's Jesus the tax collectors and the prostitutes were the older son. The religious elite was the younger.

Tatay had two sons, my older brother and I. I have two sons. Thus, the parable of the two sons is quite a personal one for me.

The father asks both his sons to help out in the vineyard. The older said no but afterward changed his mind and went. The younger said yes but afterward changed his mind and did not go.

During Jesus’s time,  the family, the basic unit of Roman society, was run and owned by the father. Augustus, Roman Emperor, was Father of All Fathers. Fathers had the power of life and death over everyone in his family. Everyone was the father's property.

The two sons in the parable both disobey their father. The older by word. The younger by deed. We know that fathers then killed children who disobeyed them. Tragically, there are still fathers today who kill their children for disobeying them. Fathers who treat their children as property.

But not the father in the parable. No one is thrown into places where there is darkness, weeping, and gnashing of teeth. No one is banished. No one is punished.

The father is probably like Joseph, Jesus's father.  Like Tatay. Like your father. I don't remember the number of times Kuya and I have disobeyed Tatay. Growing up, I'm sure Jesus and his siblings did too. I don't remember how many times my two sons have disobeyed me and their mother.

And I think that's the point of the parable. Parents do not remember their children's disobedience because they do not count them. Children are people, not property. And people change. I'm sure there were more times the sons disobeyed their father if we continued the story. But I want to believe that eventually they got to the point where they did not have to be told what to do.

The Parable of the Seed

Most of us had to do this science project early in grade school. Bring soil in see-through pots or containers. And some seeds. In many cases in the Philippines, we brought mongo beans. We called this project, the life cycle of a plant.

Many times our next science project was the life cycle of a frog. But this is topic for another time.

Back to the mongo beans. We waited patiently for the seeds to change. For six-year olds, waiting for hours takes forever. Then we see the surprise. Slowly but surely the tiny seeds become plants. And we watch in awe and wonder.

People whose hearts beat with the heart beat of Mother Earth know this parable. Not as a story but as the reality of life. Life begets life. Each seed bears a promise.

Many times we forget that God's creation helps God create. The waters bring forth fish of all kinds. The earth brings forth plants and animals. Many times we forget that we, you and I, are latecomers to the cycles and dances of life.

Maybe it's time we just step back and watch in awe and wonder. Like we did when we were six years old.

The Great "I am not!"

We love to play God, forgetting that we are not God.  Our greatest sin is god-playing. We forget that we are people. We are human beings, you and I, and we are created to bear witness to God and God's liberating acts.

In the same vein, there are a lot of people who think they are the Messiah. Many of them are pastors and priests.  These are those who are legends in their own minds. Those who believe that they are God's gift to the institutions and organizations they serve. Those who think they are indispensable, irreplaceable, and think that without them, all hell will break loose. 

I am pretty sure we all know people who have major messianic complexes.  Yet, our true calling is to bear witness to God's messiah and his liberating work. Just like John the Baptist.

If Jesus is the Great "I am" then John is the Great "I am not."

The religious leaders from Jerusalem ask John, "Who are you?" He responds: I am not the Messiah… I am not Elijah… I am not the prophet… I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness…"

Yes, like John we are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet.

We are called to bear witness to the messiah. And like John we are to do our witnessing in the wilderness. Not in the comfort and security of our own Jerusalems. Nor inside the four walls of our magnificent temples and imposing church buildings. Nor while we are seated in our air-conditioned offices with the Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

Wilderness conjures up a lot of ambivalent images for us who study Scripture. God appeared to a hard-headed Moses through the burning bush in the wilderness. The Ancient Israelites wandered almost aimlessly in the wilderness for forty long years. Many of them died there, including Moses. Like John, the wilderness played a key role in Jesus's ministry.  In Mark, the Spirit had to force Jesus into the wilderness after his baptism. There, Jesus had to deal with Satan.

The wilderness is not a very hospitable place.

Yet, we are called to bear witness in the wilderness: in places we do not want to go; to those desolate areas we fear, and among communities—poor, odorized, and otherized—whom many call "God-forsaken."  To proclaim the good news of the incarnation--that God has not forsaken; that God is not in heaven anymore; that God is here with us; that God is One among us as we struggle for life, for dignity, for justice, for peace.

John prepared the way for Jesus. He was alone. And he was executed. This time around, we are more fortunate. John gave his life to prepare the way. And Jesus is already out there-in the wilderness--be it the slums of Tinajeros and Payatas, among the internal refugees of Mindoro, or with our displaced and dispossessed Lumad sisters and brothers in Mindanao, or our kin up in the Sierra Madre mountains...

So let us take every opportunity to be the best what we can be, to be ready.  Always ready.

Whatever and wherever our wilderness is, we need not be afraid. We are not alone. We are legion.  And Jesus is already out there waiting for us…. 

The Parable of the Stone Soup

This parable is not from Jesus but I have heard several versions of it from different countries.

A long time ago in a barrio far away came a very old woman. She was probably just passing by because she took the dusty road that bordered the small community. Because it was almost dark, she stopped by the roadside and began to build a fire. She took out an earthen pot from the bag she lugged around and, after filling it with water, set it over the fire. Out of the same bag she brought out a small river stone and a pinch of rock salt and put these in the pot. 

An old woman alone by the road is hard to miss. Soon children were upon her. “Lola (Grandma),” they asked, “what are you doing?” “I’m cooking soup,” she answered, “why don’t you join me?” They sure did and after a while there was a huge circle of children gathered around the fire as the old lady narrated stories about elves and fairies and dragons. It was late. It was dark and the children were still out so their parents began looking for them. They eventually found them with the old lady. “Lola,” they asked, “what are you doing?” “I’m cooking soup,” she answered, “why don’t you join me?” They sure did and after a while there was a huge circle of children with their parents gathered around the fire as the old lady continued telling stories of elves and fairies and dragons. 

“Lola, “ a mother volunteered, “I still have leftover meat at home. We can put it in the pot.” “We have vegetables we can add to the pot too!” another remarked. And so everyone brought back what they could and put these in the pot. Eventually, the whole community shared not just stories but a hot pot of soup that began with a cold river stone and a pinch of rock salt.

The world needs soup. But, the world does not need pre-cooked or instant noodle soup. The soup that can meet the world’s hunger, as Mother Mary John Mananzan puts it, is the soup we cook together. Each one contributing what each can. Because we are each other’s keepers. That soup could mean food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, just wages for workers, homes for the homeless, justice for the oppressed, care for the sick and dying, land for the landless, liberation for those in bondage and captivity, solidarity with those whose only hope is God. 

Those of us who call ourselves Christian do not have the monopoly on soup. 

Cain was wrong, Jacob was wrong. We are each other’s keepers. We are—all of us—brothers and sisters. Kapatid, igsoon, kabsat. Kapatid is from Patid ng Bituka. We are all parts of one gut. We, all of us—Christians, Moslems, Jews, Buddhists, and those who are so unlike us—are family. God’s oikos.

Joan Baez’s song was right. It has always been right. No one is an island. No one stands alone. Each one’s joy is joy to me. Each one’s grief is my own. We need one another so I will defend. Each one is my sibling. Each one is my friend. 

The Shrewd Manager

There are so many ways this parable from Luke 16 has been interpreted.

Some work. Some do not. Especially those that insist that the rich master is a metaphor for God. The rich master is a rich master. Charges are brought against his manager or steward for dishonesty. Apparently, other managers want him out of the picture, thus the charges.

The manager, finding his position in jeopardy and knowing he cannot do manual labor and is ashamed to beg, does what anyone would do in his situation. Damage control. Find a way to make sure that he does not end up on the streets. He cuts his losses by literally cutting his commission.

What he does gets him his job back. His rich master commends him. And those in debt, less indebted.

This is the way things actually work. Then and now. That is why the rich are still rich. This is the way of empire. This is the complete opposite of the Kingdom of God.

The Parable of the Five Loaves and Two Fish

There are so many people who imagine this story, which we find in all four canonical gospels, as an actual event in Jesus's ministry. There are those who argue that it is a parable. All the parables we have looked at so far are stories that Jesus told.

This one is different. It's a parable from the early church. Jesus is a character in the parable.

He sees the multitude hungry and, following the teachings of the Law and the Prophets, he tells his disciples to feed them. His disciples make up excuses. Send the crowd away. Let them feed themselves. We don't have enough funds to address the situation. The excuses then sound so much like our excuses today.

Then a young child, possibly 12 years old or younger, offers what he has. Five barley loaves and two fish. And the miracle of feeding of the 5000 begins.

Do not forget this. Ever. The bread and the fish that led to the feeding of the HUNGRY multitudes were offered by a HUNGRY child. Many times, God's liberating acts begin when one, just one we usually do not expect, takes that step forward, that leap of faith, that offering of bread and fish.

The Rich Man and Lazarus

Scholars tell us of two ancient stories that resonate with this parable of Jesus. One is Egyptian. The other rabbinical. The former is about the reversal of fortunes in the afterlife. The latter was about Abraham's servant Eleazar (Lazarus in Greek) who walked the earth in disguise to check on Abraham's children's observance of God's command to care for orphans, widows, strangers, and the poor.

In Jesus's parable Lazarus wasn't in disguise. He was so poor, sick, and starving that his plight was described by Abraham as evil. He was in such misery and dehumanizing state that his company was wild street dogs. He died and was not buried. Being buried is the last act of human decency that societies have practiced for millenia. Lazarus died and no one was around to bury him.

The rich man feasted every day. He died. He was buried. I'm sure in grand fashion. With scores of professional crying ladies.

Today, many people find dogs better company than their fellow human beings. Unfortunately, thousands still starve to death every single day. And one nation, which prides itself Christian, has enough resources to feed 40 billion people. That's 6 times the population of the world.

The Two Debtors

Most of us know what debts and mounting debts do to people. Whether we are  talking about those who need to borrow their most basic needs, like rice and dried fish, from the village sari-sari store or the millions in our country whose livelihood depends on the 5-6 lending system, debts impoverish and dehumanize people.

And empire thrives on debt. Then and now. Thus it should not surprise us when the Jubilee (Leviticus 25) and Jesus's Prayer (Matthew 6 and Luke 11) both demand debt cancellation.

The Parable of the Two Debtors paints another picture of the situation of the majority in first century Palestine. The denarius represented subsistence wage. The amount enough for one person to survive for one day. One owed 500 denarii. That's bread barely enough to last a year and a half. Longer if one bought barley. The other owed 50, bread barely enough to last two months.

Both debts were cancelled. This is good news to the poor!

For people who live from one day to the next, then and now, the prayer has not changed: "give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts."

The Pharisee and the Tax Collector

Pharisees loved God and country, were very religious, highly trained, upright, (remember that Paul was a Pharisee), and totally against Roman Occupation.

In the parable, he was telling the truth. Everything he said in his prayer was true.

Tax collectors were probably the most hated people during Jesus’s time. They worked for Rome and were considered collaborators and traitors.

In the parable, everything he said in his prayer was also true.

Both men were truthful. What's the difference?

The tax collector judged himself and found himself needing God's mercy. The pharisee judged the tax collector and found the tax collector needing God's mercy.

Then and now, we all need God's mercy.

The Parable of the Net

Farmers and fisher-folk made up the majority of the poor during Jesus’s time. Nothing has changed.

When Jesus called his first disciples, who were all fisher-folk, they were mending their nets.

Why? Because life was tough for regular fisher-folk under Roman Occupation. There were taxes on nets, taxes on boats, taxes on almost everything. Common folk had to shell out up to 55 percent of their income on taxes and tithes. And there were the huge trawlers. Nothing has really changed.

Fisher-folk know what drag nets do. You bring in everything the net catches to the shore. And you separate the catch. What can be eaten, what can be sold, what needs to be thrown back into the sea.

With practically no fish to catch, Jesus challenged them to be fishers of people. Fisher-folk know how to separate the catch. We have much to learn from them.

The Laborers in the Vineyard

Why do we always identify the rich landowner with God? Why do we call his actions acts of benevolence and grace? Why do we always take the side of the rich and the powerful?

And worse, why do we demonize the grumbling day laborers?

A denarius was subsistence wage. It could buy a measure of wheat. One day's worth for one person. Or three measures of barley, enough for three people for one day. Just bread. Nothing else.

During Jesus’s time, half of the population was slowly starving to death. During Jesus’s time 15% of the population were day laborers. They survived from one day to the next.

The Parable is not about God or God's grace. It's about the rich's greed. It's about divide and conquer. It's about taking advantage of those whose only hope is God. It's about the Consunjis, Cojuangcos, Sys, Tans, Gokongweis, and Ayalas of Jesus's time.

It's about the Gospel of the Rich.