Treasure Hunting
Proper 14, Year C
Luke 12:32-40
In Luke 12, Jesus turns His attention to the heart of the disciple. The crowd may be large, but His focus is on the little flock gathered near—those who have chosen to trust Him. And to these, He speaks a word of both comfort and confrontation: “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” That’s where this Gospel lesson begins—with the unwavering intention of the Father. God isn’t reluctant to bless us. He delights to do so. He gladly gives us the kingdom. That truth reframes our anxieties, our greed, and our clinging to possessions. The Father’s pleasure is our provision, and our faith is grounded not in our grasping, but in His giving.
Jesus presses that reality into application. If the kingdom is coming—if God is offering it gladly—then it’s time to make space for it. “Sell your possessions, give to the needy…make for yourselves money belts that do not wear out.” This isn’t an arbitrary demand for asceticism. It’s preparation. It’s anticipation. It’s the life of someone who believes something better is coming, someone who’s clearing the shelves of lesser things to make room for lasting treasure. We are meant to be those who are storing up heavenly riches and building the kind of wallet that won’t fail when the true riches come pouring in.
But Jesus also knows us. He knows we were made to treasure. We hunger. We thirst. Our hearts—our bellies—were made to be filled. And we will fill them. The question is: with what? The treasure we seek will always reveal the condition of our heart. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” That’s the spiritual gauge Jesus hands us. Not where your intentions are. Not where your words are. Where your treasure is—where your desires are aimed, where your time, energy, and longing are invested—that’s where your heart actually lives. And there’s no division. Heart and treasure go together.
To help us see this clearly, Jesus gives us two images. First, the faithful servant: dressed for action, lamps lit, eagerly awaiting the Master’s return. This servant lives in expectation, ready at a moment’s notice. And what happens when the Master returns? The unthinkable: the Master serves the servants. He makes them sit at His table and girds Himself to wait on them. The picture is beautiful—those who live their lives in joyful readiness, who’ve emptied themselves to be filled by Christ, will be served by Christ Himself. It’s the reward of faith.
But then comes the second image—a homeowner unaware of the hour when a thief breaks in. If the first image is joyful anticipation, the second is fearful disruption. Jesus’ return will either be a celebration or a shock. Those who’ve made this life their storehouse will feel robbed when Jesus comes to claim it. For them, the kingdom is an interruption, not a fulfillment. And here Jesus reveals the true test of the heart: when He comes, will He find you ready to receive or afraid to lose?
The lesson presses in close. Are we living like strangers and aliens in this world, or are we comfortably blending in, clinging to treasures that will rot and fade? Hebrews 11 offers the echo of this call. Abraham and the faithful lived as exiles, looking ahead to a better country—a heavenly one. They died in faith, not having received the promise, but trusting it would come. And because they lived like that, God was not ashamed to be called their God.
So where is your treasure? Are you guarding and storing what you have, fearful of loss? Or are you girded up, ready to receive what cannot be taken from you? Jesus isn’t simply confronting your wealth—He’s confronting your hope. What are you banking on? What are you preparing for? The answer will show you where your heart is.
Peace Be With You,
Pastor Bruce
