It's yet to be seen what effect Pope Leo XIV will have on the Church in terms of numbers. But in terms of trends, there have been interesting things to note.
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There's been an increase in the Catholic population in Ontario, Canada, but it's been fueled by migration. More immigrants are coming in from Catholic populations.

In the UK the Catholic Gen Z population is on the rise.
"A new study from the United Kingdom has found that among members of Gen Z in the U.K., Catholics now outnumber Anglicans 2 to 1 — part of a pattern observed across all age groups whereby participation in Catholicism has risen in recent years while Anglicanism has declined."

Then France:
Adult baptisms in France are also up.
"France’s Catholic Church will welcome more than 10,384 adult catechumens at Easter this year, marking a 45% increase from 2024 figures, according to data released by the French Bishops’ Conference. The French report reveals the highest numbers ever recorded since the survey began over 20 years ago. Even more striking is the demographic shift — young adults now constitute the largest segment of converts."

As a Christian, it's always nice and encouraging to see people discover the faith in a meaningful way. Although you have to ask if we have lost the plot? Why does it matter that we gain numbers? For one, if you lose numbers, then you become a cultural and political target. But let's say that doesn't matter.    Another piece of the issue is whether declining interest means that God is no longer calling people or tugging at the hearts of people. We're all still human, and the internal desire that pulled people toward the search for God should still structurally be in place? So why aren't more people searching, not just for spirituality, but for Christ?

It does seem, though, that conversions to Catholicism and Orthodoxy in the US are tracking with the rise of conservatism and traditionalism among young men. So the factors inspiring growth aside from immigration, to a large part, are cultural. But beyond cultural factors, where are all the people (of the 9 billion in this world) who are searching for Christ?

There is the so-called Benedict Option, the idea that the ideal may be to let the Church resize itself around a smaller core of pure believers, rather than be behemothy all things to all people. The problem is that this is not possible at all in the Roman Catholic Church. For a Church of 1 billion people, with assets worth billions, and real political and ecclesial power, no one in power wants fewer people. It's very, very difficult to give up power and the adulation of literally millions of people on a regular basis.

The Church will never voluntarily re-size, meaning the Benedict Option is not a remote possibility, which means the Church will remain a massive entity with organic internal growth and factors like immigration and cultural trends to spur it forward in terms of size.

But maybe the question is not if we're growing or how we can grow? But if people aren't flocking to our light, then perhaps that light has dimmed to a flicker, and we no longer reflect the Christ we claim to serve. 

Conventional wisdom used to be that neither the UN leader nor the Pope should come from superpower countries. The idea was to prevent undue influence by or collaboration with a superpower government that would undermine the mission of the UN or the Papacy. The election of Pope Benedict XVI threw out the norm for the Papacy. Germany, maybe not a superpower, is a very powerful and influential country, and electing a Pope from there and with a history as a combatant during the war was norm shattering.

However, the norm of preventing an American pope still lingered. The U.S. is an unusually influential culture. It is empire-like, which means it is irrestitible. Now, one can try to ignore its influence, and ignoring it does not diminish the influence. So the option is to lean into it.

Leaning into American influence has become even more pressing in the age of polarization and in the age of President Trump. First, you need someone who is American and who can be a counterweight to President Trump. Pope Leo XIV, a man from Chicago with some African blood in him :), a polyglot, who lived in South America, is not afraid of President Trump (His X account proves this). And, we'll see, but President Trump will be wary of picking a fight with an American Pope for fear of turning people against him. 

The other thing is that President Trump has shown just how vital America is to a law-based order in the world. It was something that was taken for granted, but now everyone realizes that the U.S. was the cornerstone of the international order--that a massive superpower like the US embraced a law-based system and upheld certain norms in the world was vital. But now that President Trump has shattered that assurance, the world realizes what it's lost. The symbolism and promise of American leadership and ideals were the oxygen that maintained a fragile system. So one would see how important it is to try to retrieve and revive that symbolism by electing an American Pope.

Pope Leo XIV, by all accounts, appears to be an impressive man. Just like Barack Obama fit the bill as the first black US president, this Pope seems like he's the kind of person the world expects from an American leader. His ancestry is varied. He speaks many languages. Appears to be very intelligent. Was a Bishop in Peru(!!!!). Strong administrator. Powerful but not overbearing. We'll see how he leads as Pope, but the symbolism for now is more important and a refreshing reset to restoring the right symbolic balance in the international order.

Yes, why is the Bishop of Rome the leader of Jesus' Church on earth--or Pope? There are two distinct issues here. One is about Petrine leadership, and the second issue is why the Bishop of Rome is Peter's successor.

I have four questions. 

1. Did Jesus make Peter leader of his disciples and Church?
2. Does the Church need this Petrine leadership?
3. Is Petrine leadership transferable?
4. Why is Rome the instantiation of Petrine leadership?

Did Jesus make Peter leader of his disciples and Church?
This is an easy one. Yes!  John 21:15-19 is the clearest expression of this. Peter loved Jesus more than any of the other disciples, and Jesus told him to tend his lambs, feed his sheep, and feed his sheep. This is unambiguous. 

Does the Church need Petrine Leadership?
Yes!
Mt 16:18 tells us that Jesus declared to Cephas, "You are Peter" and "upon this rock I will build my church . . ." This follows Peter confessing that Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of God. And Jesus says that God revealed that to Peter. It was not a deduction, but it was a gift of faith that no one else possessed (except, of course, Mary and maybe his family). The "this" of Mat 16:19 may be Peter or it may be Peter's declaration, but it doesn't matter. Because the Church is built on the testimony of the Apostles and not abstract claims. So, even if one argues that the "this rock" does not refer to Peter, it refers to Peter's confession (not some abstract claim). His confession that Jesus is Messiah and the Son of God was revealed to him, and it is his faith that becomes foundational for what is to follow. The Christian faith is not based on the fact that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and Messiah, but that Peter and the other apostles say that Jesus is the Son of God and Messiah. The faith is 100% based on the testimony of the Apostles, especially Peter.


So the question is not whether Peter's leadership is necessary. That's irrelevant. The issue is that Jesus declared it to be so. 

Is Petrine Leadership Transferable?
Now this is where it gets tricky and strange. I don't believe that the faith demands it. However, two things are relevant here. One is that both Matthew and John indicate that Peter's leadership is ongoing. In John, as long as there are lambs and sheep, then Peter's leadership is what Jesus desires. In Matthew, as long as there is a church being built, then the rock is needed. So it would stand to reason that as long as there's a church, Petrine leadership is needed and, unless Peter were to live forever, someone else would need to continue that leadership. The other piece of this discussion, which is underrated, is that the Church has the power to institute the transferability of Petrine leadership. Mt 16:19 says, "I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." The Church has the authority to continue Peter's leadership, whether it is explicitly declared or not. The issue is did the Church do so? The answer has to be yes, since we have had Petrine leadership for centuries now. So my take is that Jesus didn't authorize any transferability of Petrine leadership, but the Church can and did.

Why is the Bishop of Rome the Successor of Peter?
 . . .
The arguments are that Peter was Bishop of Rome (such as it is) and that both Peter and Paul were martyred in Rome, making Rome special. The latter argument is ridiculous. I'll up you one. Jesus died in Jerusalem. Thus, by the logic where deaths have occurred, the Bishop of Jerusalem should then be the successor of Peter and the primary see. 
Can the Bishop of Rome validly claim to be Peter's successor? Yes, and the Roman church did, and it was unchallenged for the most part and accepted. And by Matthew 16:19 logic, the Church bound this in heaven and earth. However, Rome has no necessary claim to Petrine leadership. Just as the Church allowed Rome to claim that mantle, it can remove it. Although, practically, it would take an extreme emergency to agree that the Bishop of Rome no longer has an intrinsic claim to the papacy.

So . . . Petrine leadership is real, is continuous, it's transferable, and its intrinsic link to Rome all check the necessary boxes.

Christianity is splintering along racial and ethnic lines in the U.S. It's fair to say that President Trump and his policies are particularly unique in history, and so it's hard to be neutral or nonchalant about him and his administration. So it is particularly interesting to see Christian positions on Trump because it reveals us--Christians--to ourselves, particularly when we accept or disapprove of the Ethics of the Trump administration.

Ethics reflect values, and values reflect belief systems or religion. When there is a divergence in how we assess ethics among Christian demographics, it means that our values are different, and divergent values imply religious differences. This is another way of saying that though we all may call ourselves Christians, we can't all be Christians and feel so differently about Trump's ethics. Either one side is wrong and the other right, or maybe "Christian" is a meaningless term and Trump has exposed that.

The Pew Research Center has some numbers on Trump's approval among Christians.
Trump's approval among adults: 59% Disapprove and 40 approve
72% of White Evangelicals approve of Pres. Trump compared to 10% of Black Protestants.
51% of White Catholics approve of Pres. Trump compared to 26% of Hispanic Catholics.

Now, approval can very much be about politics, economy, and culture, and so not necessarily an issue in itself. But here's the troubling data.

They asked about the ethical standards of top Trump administration officials. Let's refer to it as "Trump."
34% of White Evangelicals rate "Trump's" ethics as excellent and another 35% rate the ethics as good. That's 69%.
4% of Black Protestants rate "Trump's" ethics as excellent and 5% as good. 63% see it as poor.
For White Catholics, 23% see "Trump's" ethics as excellent and 26% as good. (49%)
For Hispanic Catholics, 10% see "Trump's" ethics as excellent and 15% as good.

There is a clear divergence based on race and ethnicity (these categories work differently in other countries). The assessment of ethics is key. If there is a divergence on how we all view the ethics of the Trump administration, it has to go far beyond simple politics, culture, or economic issues. Differing assessments of Trump's ethics imply different values and religions. There are no longer transcendent values that fundamentally hold the Christian community together. What's disturbing is that because of the influence of the US, these forms of Christianity are being exported around the globe at an alarming rate.

Denominational differences have defined the landscape of Christianity in the past few centuries. But, in the past few decades, there are new differences that have emerged that seem to cut just as deep. All this does raise the question of Christian unity. The issue of Christian unity is a pressing issue for only one reason: Jesus prayed that his disciples be one. But what does that mean? Or maybe the question is who really are his disciples (those who are to be one)? Does discipleship identification rest primarily on self- identification, or is it that those who are true disciples and are the ones who are unified in perhaps some unidentifiable way known only to God? The stats above, coupled with denominational differences, show that Christian unity or the prospect for unity is virtually impossible.

President Trump has driven the kind of wedge in Christianity that may be impossible to overcome. Or maybe he is exposing a wedge that was there all along. Maybe we all just have to admit that our differing ethics reflect differing values, which in turn reveal that we "Christians" aren't all of the same religion. Maybe "Christianity" is simply some sociological umbrella term that masks the canyons between vastly different religious streams that make some claim to the Christ figure. Maybe we who claim to follow Christ should realize that the true disciples who should be those (whoever they are) are bound together in spirit and transcend these differences (but we are not all the true disciples). If so, then all that's left to us is to strive for righteousness and pray that we are among the true disciples.  (P.S. "true disciple" as I speak of it, is not the equivalent of not going to Hell)

Luke 24:15 says that Jesus was "taken up into heaven." Mark 16:19 says the same. Acts 1:9 also says, "he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight." Jesus' bodily ascent into heaven is an essential belief in Christianity. The creed states it as one of its propositions: "He ascended into Heaven." 

For clarity, let's see, Acts 1:11 "They said, “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”" Here it is clear, Just as Jesus is going to one day physically return, so is he ascending into heaven where he will "sit" at the "right hand" of the Father (Rev 3:21; Mt 22:44; Acts 2:33) and the Nicene Creed says, "he is seated at the right hand of the Father."

A lot of things get Christians squeamish about their faith, but one that seems to really get Christians, maybe Catholics in particular, is that Jesus physically ascended into Heaven. Why is this troublesome? Well, for one, the universe is 93 billion light years. That means it would take light that long to travel from one end to the other (or something like that). So did Jesus keep floating up and up and up . . . (if there is an "up" in the universe)? Sure! Or it could have happened in the blink of an eye. The other issue is that this physical bodily ascension seems to imply that Jesus is currently at location (x,y,z), or that Heaven is at that location. Yes. He is at a location, and heaven is at a location. What that means, we can't understand, but he is there, sitting . . . or standing or whatever he is doing.

Some people think that the ascension and the current existence of Jesus is more spiritual than the alternative. But then, what exactly was the point of the resurrection? There is zero point in a resurrection if only two weeks later, he reverts to spiritual form and glides away.

One issue for Catholics is that the current bodily existence of Jesus complicates the Eucharist, the elements of which are the body and blood of Jesus. It is true. Jesus is alive. The Eucharist is not a substitute for his being, person, and presence. All one has to remember is that it was Jesus, who was very much alive, who distributed bread and wine to his disciples and said, "this is my body."

Now, of course, the manner of existence of Jesus, a physical man who is God, is beyond anything we can think or comprehend. So it is not reductive to think of Jesus as a bodily existing man. We only have to give up the parameters of our thinking and rely on faith to make sense of whatever new reality awaits us.

So Jesus is alive. He is resurrected. He is a body and is somewhere. Now . . . so . . . if Jesus is sitting at the right hand of the Father . . . so . . . is the Father . . . 

Is being ethical the same thing as being a good person? Is being a good person the same as being ethical?

Does being religious imply that one will be good and or ethical? I think we can answer this one quickly. No. Being religious does not in itself mean that someone is good or ethical. The proof is in the pudding. Religious people the world over and over the centuries have shown that there isn't a necessary coupling between religiosity and goodness or ethicalness. Many religious people are very good people, but many not very good people are deeply religious. But, perhaps, that's not the point . . . or is it?

Can someone be ethical and not good? Ethics is not easy to define. But it has to do with principles of action, society (however, one construes that), and human flourishing (whether in a broad quasi-eschatological and teleological sense, or whether in an individualistic, granular present sense).

The first problem always is what exactly is good? There are many goods, satisfying hunger, laughing, peace, justice, engaging in fulfilling work, enjoying art, etc. Why are these good and is there an intrinsic ordering to them? Satisfying hunger is good but is undermined if to do so, I take food from someone else who needed that food to satisfy their hunger. So the greater good there would be abundance and solidarity so that there is enough for both of us and it is my aim to ensure we both get to satisfying our hunger and we don't try to hoard the abundance or excess. As we game it out the greater goods become intangible conditions we set so that we can optimize justice, peace, and the like so that we can all share resources fairly.

Ultimately, though, we need to plant our flag on the greatest possible good. Only such a good may be the true north star for any practical earthly conception of good.  Such a good must be a good in and for itself. It cannot be a good in any way dependent on it's utility--how useful or good it is for something. Such a good that is good in itself demands recognition as such and this is what we sense as the holy and the sacred. The Holy is the transcendent good beyond all practical conceptions of good. It is visible in this world, but not of this world, and cannot be accessed as a thing in the world. 

The irony then is it is the religious who necessarily preserve the sense we have the sacred and the holy, even when they fail at being good themselves. Though it then becomes the ultimate scandal when the ones who see the Good as the Holy fall short and bring scandal. Even worse, if goodness in itself is, at its root, distinct from utility, then there's an aspect of holiness that may seem divorced from the practical goods that we all appreciate. For instance, the holy person on their way to pray may be impatience and rude to the person interrupting them. 

The only way those who seek holiness can also reflect ultimate goodness is if they partner with those who seek goodness even at the expense of holiness. It seems like folly to expect any single human to be wholly holy and wholly good (in the practical sense). But as a corporate body of Christians, the tasks can be distributed as long as everyone understands their roles. That those who pursue practical goods understand that they do so at the expense of true devotion to the holy. And those who seek the path of holiness understand that their quest blinds them to the necessary practical goodness that should define the Christian. I suppose, though, in the long run, the true Christian strives not to neglect either holiness or goodness.

Someone once asked me about reading an introduction to the Bible. The book she showed me was a very nice-looking book. I glanced in it, and it looked like it had a lot of really good information. She asked if it would be good. The bible is always good--necessary--to read for one's spiritual journey. However, reading the bible with the aid of academic experts, whether through books, commentaries, etc, is something else. Academically, scripture study is criticism, i.e., it reduces the bible to a combination of history, sociology, and literature. 

(Image--Thomas Waterman Wood 1874)

The world has learned so much from scholars who decided to evaluate the bible, not as a spiritual, divine book, but as a work of history, and also through literary and sociological lenses. The insights have been invaluable in the sense that we can't imagine living in a world prior to this knowledge. In a way, it's like imagining how people could have lived fulfilled lives in the 9th century AD without wifi, books, cars, and hygienic products. But those people lived very full and happy lives, no more or no less than we do. So also, Christians thrived without the burden of this academic approach to scripture.

For some types of Christians, including myself, entering into the world of biblical study with academic experts is a faith-destroying, soul-sucking enterprise. The academic overlay and telescope become a blight and varnish on the scriptures--a maze, a rabbit hole that once you go down, you never get out.

On the other hand, the academic approach to the bible is a major breath of fresh air for many other types of Christians. For one, the bible then makes sense. The cultural context, literary structure, and historical notes categorize things in a neat enough way that remove obstacles to faith.

Everyone needs expert help. Reading the bible is not a solitary thing but a community venture. The scriptures are given first and primarily to the people of faith as a whole, to the Church, and next to us as individuals, in a secondary sense. I think wading into the world of academic "criticism" and context is not the worst thing in the world. But it is eating the forbidden apple. After you enter this world, you can expect to realize that you are naked, you'll start hiding from God, Cain will kill Abel, we build towers to climb to the heavens, and darkness floods in such that God will despair and consider another ark. But in all this darkness, we still get grace, the Messiah, and a savior. What choice do we have? We can't ignore all the insights of the past few hundred years. Yet, we pay dearly for every morsel of this analytical food we eat.

In sum, there has to be an initial time of self-reflection and assessment. It helps to understand what kind of person you are--what kind of Christian you are. Do you lean more toward the affective or more toward the analytical? But ultimately, at the end of the day, there is one real injunction: Fear God and do his commandments. If we stick to this, we can hope to be guided aright.

The agony, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus were no laughing matter. But there seemed to be a significant amount of mocking around his death. First, when Jesus is questioned by Herod, a man who had desired to meet Jesus for so long and see a sign from him, he--Jesus--is mocked.

"[Even] Herod and his soldiers treated him contemptuously and mocked him, and after clothing him in resplendent garb, he sent him back to Pilate.i" (Lk 23:11)

Matthew's account is more graphic:

"27 Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the praetorium, and they gathered the whole battalion before him. 28 And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe upon him, 29 and plaiting a crown of thorns they put it on his head, and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him they mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” 30 And they spat upon him, and took the reed and struck him on the head. 31 And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe, and put his own clothes on him, and led him away to crucify him." (Mt 27:27-31)

It is in the midst of the mocking that Jesus is beaten, spat on, and then given a garment that is later  stripped off him.

At the crucifixion scene, the rulers then sneer at him (Lk 23:35), followed by the soldiers (Lk 23:36), then the inscription, "This is the King of the Jews" (Lk 23:38) is meant to be something of a taunt and mockery, and then there's the one criminal (Lk 23:39).

All these indicate the apparent extent of Jesus' failure. This man who was to be king now hangs here, a spectacle. It does little good to make Jesus over godlike and suggest all the while he had secret knowledge and would, if he could, wink at the camera because he knows what's coming. The abjectness of the failure, such that all this taunting makes sense, must be appreciated.

It is then that we see the faith of Christ in his patience. He had failed, and his kingship and dominion hung on the cross as a spectacle. He responded to none of the taunts. But finally responds to the criminal who reaches out to him in faith. The criminal proclaims Jesus' innocence, which was also apparent to all. He asks Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. Whatever that meant, it was pure faith that this weak, defeated Messiah still had a kingdom and had the power to save. So when Jesus says, "today you will be with me in paradise," we can understand that that is similarly Jesus' own statement of faith. 

The mockery and taunting of Jesus tell us one thing: that Jesus' kingdom and perceived political aspirations were a real thing. This is what people, even his disciples, expected of him--a kingdom. For Jesus' sacrifice to be really meaningful, he had to feel the full weight of that failure. Thus, the fact that in the lion's den of failure, he declares the salvation of the criminal, is a testament to the faith of Christ.

One moment in history that haunts me is the death of the great scientist (proto-scientist), Archimedes (287-212 BC). Archimedes was one of the most brilliant humans ever to live. He famously solved a volume displacement problem in the baths an ran through the streets shouting "Eureka!" He also uncovered physical laws about and speculated about things like levers, screws, mirrors, and a whole lot more. He said to have said, "Give me a place to stand and I'll move the earth," referring to his law of levering. 

I'd always heard that Archimedes was killed by a drunken Roman soldier. Maybe the soldier wasn't drunk. Either way, he was killed by a soldier. The armed man was either angered by Archimede's refusal to follow him to the king because the thinker was working on a problem in the dust. "Do not disturb my circles," he said. Or the soldier thought Archimedes's instruments were valuable plunder and killed for them. Either way, one of history's most brilliant men died at the hands of a man with limited education, who by a sword and by the state, weilded power, and who did not appreciate the genius before him.

("Death of Archimedes" 1766, by François-Philippe Charpentier, after Ciro Ferri, in the National Gallery of Art)

Well, the world has gone on and Archimedes has slipped into historical legend along with many greats in our intellectual history. However, one wonders what brilliant thing might he have envisioned if he lived longer. Does it matter? Does the life of any one man matter? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. But what if history and human flourishing is contingent on nodes of development and insight that spur new ways of thinking? A special insight at just the right moment in history could change the course of peoples, nations, public health, public education, science, international policy, ethics, etc. We would never know. But to have such hope die because of common rage feels like throwing pearls to swine.

(Btw, who knows how many Archimedes, Einsteins, Da Vincis, are dying or suffering or being turned away at the border; or wasting away in impoverishment. To be clear, each and every life wasted and underdeveloped is a crucial opportunity cost for the world.)

The elite class (intellectual and cultural elites, not the societally and financially wealthy class), I see as a version of Archimedes. They are arrogant and perhaps too self assured. But human history is driven by these people because ideas have consequences. For instance, it is not an exaggeration to say that Alexander the Great changed the course of world history . . . with his sword. Yet, the lesser know fact is that he was the pupil of one of the greatest philosophers, Aristotle. Christianity flourishes because educated elites (Paul, Luke, Matthew) wrote things down. Karl Marx, some say, "lived" in libraries studying and writing, and the world has been shaped to dangerous effect (but some good) by his ideas.

The populist purging of intellectual elites (scientists, academics, artists, writers, etc) makes for a good talking point. Idea factories and concept generators produce nothing tangible. But eliminating the intellectual and cultural elite destroys a certain kind of hope. We all live in the present, struggling to meet our daily needs. These elites live in a different world, anticipating the forms that structure reality and that determine the future. To be sure, elites are dangerous (see Marx), because they are unaware of the power of their ideas, nor do they seem able to see the world but in the way it appears to them. And they quickly lose touch with what it means to not live in an ordinary world because their heads are in the clouds. They should circumscribed with means that prevent them from directly pouring their ideas and notions into general society (easier said than done). Nonetheless, it is vital that the intellectual and cultural elite flourish in the institutions designed for them. In our day, these are universities and other academic or intellectual outlets.

It does no good to human and societal flourishing for enraged drunken soldiers to yet again, disturb elite circles written in dust and again, kill Archimedes for his insolence. Without Archimedes' fulcrum, we don't move the earth. 

The Gospel of Luke has interesting sibling tensions. There is Mary and Martha in Luke 10:

38 Now as they went on their way, he entered a village; and a woman named Martha received him into her house. 39 And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. 40 But Martha was distracted with much serving; and she went to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me. 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; 42 one thing is needful.[f] Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her.”” 

There is the person in the crowd in Luke 12:

13 One of the multitude said to him, “Teacher, bid my brother divide the inheritance with me.” 14 But he said to him, “Man, who made me a judge or divider over you?” 15 And he said to them, “Take heed, and beware of all covetousness; for a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” 16 And he told them a parable, saying, 

These two cases seem to highlight similar things. Focus on the the better part that cannot be taken away. In the case of Martha, it wasn't serving that was the problem. It was that she was "distracted with much serving." For the other man, the request leads to the parable of the rich fool who stored up wealth for himself. That in itself is fine. It was that he was not also "rich toward God."

Then there's our friend, the prodigal son in Luke 15:

25 “Now his elder son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 And he called one of the servants and asked what this meant. 27 And he said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has received him safe and sound.’ 28 But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, 29 but he answered his father, ‘Lo, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command; yet you never gave me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your living with harlots, you killed for him the fatted calf!’ 31 And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 It was fitting to make merry and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.’”


The wayward son spends his inheritance, while the dutiful son/brother remains faithful and works hard. The prodigal gets rewarded with a party, the brother doesn't. Two of these sibling stories have to do with sharing inheritance. In the other case, the one calling out to Jesus felt an injustice was done to him. His brother was not sharing the inheritance. In this case, the older brother felt and injustice was done when in fact there was no injustice, just mercy.

Fairness is a persistent concern among family members. And in the presence of Jesus it is easy to call on him as a judge. But Jesus' response in all cases is to accept the perceived unfairness and focus on the one thing needful--the better part that shall not be taken away.