Barns or Banks

Do you ever check the Farmer’s Almanac? Every late fall, news outlets trot out the handbook’s winter predictions. This year, the almanac promised a “Dry Mild” season. How did that work out? Would anyone describe this winter as either “dry” or “mild”? The Farmer’s Almanac—like all our forecasting efforts—is ultimately just a best guess based on historical patterns. Those patterns can be helpful, but the future remains stubbornly unknown. And yet we often live as though tomorrow is guaranteed. In doing so, we miss the weight and wonder of today.

Jesus tells a story about a successful farmer whose harvest is so abundant it outgrows his storage. As a good capitalist, he sees the obvious solution: build bigger barns. Pleased with his plan, he congratulates himself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry” (Luke 12:19). Aww, the triumphant agronomist—ready to retire early and bask in the glow of his own success. All he needs is one more barn.

But as the story unfolds, the farmer discovers the truth behind Robert Burns’s line, “The best laid schemes of mice and men go oft astray.” Jesus delivers the twist: “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’” (Luke 12:20). So much for the dreams of wealth. So much for the carefully crafted plan of lifelong ease. The sun sets abruptly on the farmer’s life.

Jesus tells this story in response to a passerby arguing over an inheritance. Rather than wade into the family dispute, Jesus exposes the futility of hoarding wealth. He ends the parable with a stark conclusion: “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God” (v. 21). According to Jesus, our energy belongs not in building barns or padding bank accounts, but in cultivating the riches that matter to God—those recorded not in ledgers but in the Book of Life.

Too often, even as Christ-followers, we pour our efforts into barns and banks. We want a bounty that proves our life was a success—especially in the eyes of others. But that kind of success demands sacrifice. We trade today for the hope of tomorrow’s payoff. Days become months, months become years, and years become decades spent chasing a future that may never arrive. Jesus reminds us that tomorrow is never promised.

So what if we lived differently? What if we invested in today rather than saving everything for a hypothetical tomorrow? Instead of stockpiling resources—time, possessions, finances, talents—for a future life of ease, what if we used them now, where they can actually make a difference? Tomorrow is uncertain. Today is here. Let’s invest in it. And when tomorrow becomes today, let’s do it again.