Narrow

Read Luke 12:13-21.

In the middle of the ancient town of Sepphoris (near Nazareth) stands a large tower. It was obviously meant for defense, set up to keep watch on the surrounding plain. It was intended to give a view of when attackers might be coming against the city. And if you're on top of the tower, you do have a pretty good view. You can see for miles around. However, if you're down inside the tower, the view is rather restricted. Below is a picture I took from inside the tower looking out through the "window."

Now, I get that the window is supposed to be narrow so that, if the enemy is shooting arrows, there is a small target they would have to hit in order to do any human damage. It makes attacking difficult. But I also couldn't help but notice how difficult it is to see out of those windows. The view is so narrow you can't see the threat that is coming. I had to get up in what passes for a window sill and sit very near the opening to be able to see out.

Sometimes our view gets so narrow we can't see what's coming.

Money does that, as it has to the young man with the brother in Luke's story. (I've preached recently on this passage, so you can find more commentary on this parable here.) The young man comes to Jesus, and by this point in Luke's Gospel, Jesus has preached, taught and done many things. He's become known as a semi-famous rabbi. But this young man has become so narrow in his focus that he can't see anything except what he wants. He's become obsessed with the inheritance he's been promised, and how it's not enough (did he have debt? did he want to buy a new chariot?). So when he has a chance to say something to Jesus—to ask literally anything—the only thing he wants from Jesus is a judge, an arbiter, someone to divide the inheritance and, more importantly, make sure he gets his just reward for being such a good son.

His view is like the view from the Sepphoris tower. All he can see is a tiny little slice of the whole picture. All he can see, really, is himself.

Sometimes our vision gets narrow like that. Sometimes we forget God's bigger picture and we begin to see only what we want, only what we think we deserve or "need." The beginning of a new year is a good time to stop, step back and look at the broader picture. If I were going to ask Jesus for something—one thing—this year, what would it be? Would it be for him to judge my brother? Or would it be for him to give me his vision for life, for this year, for my hopes and dreams? Because that's guaranteed to be a broader, more expansive vision that I will ever have on my own.