Peace be with you. Friends, all three of our
readings for this weekend speak of a primordial
spiritual truth, one that I've
mentioned frequently, maybe I've even
harped on it with you. But that's okay,
because I think it's so fundamental
in the spiritual life. I'm talking about the need
to detach oneself from the goods
of the world. Let me say it again. To detach oneself from
the goods of the world. Now mind you,
this has nothing to do with a hatred of the world. This is not a —what they call
the “fuga mundi”— a flight-fromthe-world
spirituality. This is not Puritanism. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about
knowing how to wear the goods of the world
lightly because they're not
our ultimate good. They are good.
They're wonderful. They're lovely. There's all kinds of good,
true, and beautiful things in the world. But they're not
the ultimate good. And we're not meant to cling
to them as though they were. I think the Bible and the
great spiritual tradition teach this truth over
and over again because we don't get it. Now let's begin with
the first reading; I love this book of Qoheleth
from the Old Testament. Some older folks might
remember it was called the book of Ecclesiastes. “Qoheleth” means something like
“the assemblyman” or “the churchman,”
something like that. Qoheleth. But he's identified
as King Solomon, King Solomon in old age. Now this means someone
who's had it all. King Solomon, I mean,
he’s the most kind of —from a physical standpoint and
from the standpoint of wealth— the greatest figure in
the history of Israel. Nobody was richer.
Nobody was more famous. Nobody had better accoutrement
and clothing and palaces. So Solomon's the
paradigmatic rich man, if you want,
in the worldly sense. But now he's an old man
looking back on all of it. And what does he say? It's like the
refrain to a song. It runs right through
the book of Qoheleth. "Vanity of vanities,
vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!" The Hebrew word there
for vanity is “hebel,” and it has this sense
of like wind or vapor. Even some people
say bubbles. It's like a bubble
that floats around, then boop, it's gone,
right? It's there for an instant, and maybe it's very
striking and remarkable, and then boop,
it's gone. It's like wind. It comes and it goes. There for a time
and then gone. He's experienced everything. I mean, power and
sensual pleasure and honor and wealth,
all these things. But he's focused now in
our reading on wealth. Listen to him: "Here is one who has
labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill,
and yet to another who has not labored over it, he must leave all
his property." Now, it's a typical
old man's reflection, isn't it? I've heard people in the
course of my pastoral ministry say exactly this. "Hey, all my life I
built up this business. I worked twelve-hour days. And I gave my
whole life to this. And I made my money,
I made my fortune. Now I'm an old man
and I'm surrounded by ungrateful children and
ungrateful grandchildren. And I've done
all this work, and yet these people
are going to inherit all my wealth. What's it all been about?" Vanity of vanities,
all things are vanity. So what do you do? Do we just say, "Oh, there's Qoheleth,
despairing." There's a cranky old man
in the nursing home who's just reached
a point of despair. No, no, no. This book's in the Bible,
and so it's teaching us a very important
spiritual point. One should realize
—listen now— everything in this world finally has this quality of evanescence.
Disappears. It doesn't last. So yeah, I've
labored like crazy, built up this business,
made a lot of money. Yeah.
Good, good. That's a good thing. But it's not going to last
because you're going to fade away and
it's all going to go to somebody else. I don't care how great
your business is. It's not going
to last forever. It just won't. I don't care how
much wealth you have. You're not going
to have it forever. It's going to go
to someone else who probably doesn't deserve it
and is ungrateful. Should I just be
depressed then? No, no. I should be detached. Yeah, it's good. Wealth or power or pleasure
or the esteem of other people. Good, good. Take it in and
then let it go. Enjoy it, sure, the way
you enjoy a firework going off. Think of, it's fourth July
and there're fireworks and then boom,
there it is. Look how beautiful, that burst
of light and color. And then it's gone. Do I despair?
No. I just kind of learn
to live in that present moment, savoring what I can
but also letting go. Why, why? Because I realize
that the true good, the truly beautiful,
belongs to a higher world. I can sense it
in these things, in beautiful things,
in wealth and honor and power, the good things
of the world. I can sense it,
but none of the things of the world last. And so if I cling to them,
what happens? They disappear. They crumble as I
try to grasp at them. Rather, see them,
appreciate them, and then let them go. Okay, against that background
coming from Qoheleth, let's turn to the Gospel. And it begins with a
person coming up to Jesus. And he sounds like —trust me, there's somebody
right now in a law office in our country who is
saying the same thing. He says, "Teacher, tell my brother to
share the inheritance with me." Obviously,
it's a family squabble. The inheritance has come
from dad or from grandfather or whatever and now
the kids are fighting over it. Does that sound familiar? I can name people
right now that I know who are in exactly
that position. They're fighting
over the inheritance. And they come to Jesus as
though he’s like a judge. What does the
Lord say to them? "Take care to guard
against all greed, for though one
may be rich, one's life does not consist
of possessions." Now, greed for wealth,
for material things, sure. But he says greed
in all its forms. Because I can be
greedy for honor. If someone honors
me and I get kind of a buzz from that, but then it wears off,
doesn't it? Because, well, I need
to be honored by somebody else. I need even greater honors. The little honors
have gotten so far, they don't satisfy me. Then I strive and strive
and I get more honors. But then that buzz
wears off too. And now I need more
and more and more. What happens, everybody,
is I get caught in an addictive pattern. Yes, when I cling to
the goods of the world, they crumble. But see, then what
happens is I say, "Oh, oh, I better get more." And then I reach for
those and they crumble. And then I start panicking
and I'm reaching for more and more and fill
in the blank. Wealth, pleasure,
honor, power, whatever it is. And each time they crumble. But now I'm obsessed. See, that's the greed that the Lord's
talking about here. Avoid it in all its forms. Wear the world lightly. Stop clinging to it
and hanging onto it. Now, he has this
beautiful parable, and believe me, everybody,
this has sort of haunted my own spiritual life,
this parable. It's about a rich man who
accumulates lots of wealth, and he builds these big
barns to accommodate it. And he makes more
and more, and he says, "Well, what shall I do?
I know. I'm going to tear down
that barn and build an even bigger barn
which I can fill up with my possessions." Well, what's going
to happen inevitably? He'll build the
bigger barn and then that one's
going to get filled up. And he'll say, "Now what do I do? Well, I better
build a bigger one." See, this is someone caught
in this addictive pattern. The more you cling to
the goods of the world, the more you become
imprisoned to them. Here's the parable
Jesus tells: "But the Lord said to him" —to this rich man— "‘You fool,
this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things
you have prepared, to whom will
they belong?’" It's that same idea,
isn't it? I spent my whole life
building up this business, my whole life
accumulating wealth. And now what? It's going to go to ungrateful
descendants of mine. I can't carry it with
me into the next world. It crumbles as
I cling to it. So what was the point? The Lord says, "This night your life
will be demanded of you." I think it means,
yes, you're going to physically die. But I read that
more spiritually, too. It’s the Lord's
going to say, "Well, what has your
life been about?" And you say, "Oh, it's about
these big barns. Look at them. Look how impressive
they are." The Lord will be completely
unimpressed by that. Wear the world lightly. Cultivate an attitude
of detachment. Okay, now with Qoheleth
and that parable in mind, let's turn briefly to the
second reading from St. Paul. Paul to the Colossians says
this simply and bluntly: "If you were
raised with Christ, seek what is above,
where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above,
and not what is on earth." There it is in a nutshell. Now, again, don't read that
in a sort of puritanical way. Paul's a good Jew. He loves this world. He thinks the
world is good. God made this
physical world and he found all
of it very good. So this is not a flight
from the world, not dualism. It's not that, not that. It's the proper spiritual
attitude of detachment. If my eyes are
focused on Christ —that means on the true, the good, and the beautiful
that do not fade away, that are not like
air and bubbles and vanity of vanities— if I keep my eyes
fixed on Christ, that which is above,
then, listen, then I will know
how to handle the goods of the world
as they come to me. I've known some very
wealthy people in my life
who are saintly. It's not wealth in itself
that's the problem. But they know what to
do with their wealth. They know how to
wear it lightly. They know how to become
generous with it, etc. Keep your eyes fixed
on Christ above, and then you'll know how
to handle and deal with the goods of the world. If you're focused like
the guy in the parable building bigger barns, if you're like
the young Solomon just running after
wealth and power and sensual pleasure, you'll become bitter,
empty, angry. Let me close with
this line from my great spiritual hero,
Cardinal George of Chicago. And it's one that
people quote a lot. I think it'll become a
kind of classic quote. He says, "The only thing you take
with you into the life to come is what you've
given away on earth." Let that sink in and
it'll change your whole life. Let me say it again. "The only thing you take
with you into the life to come is what you've
given away on earth." What don't I take in? My degrees and my honors
and my money and the big barns
I have filled with things, and I was once
king of the world. Who cares? None of that matters. None of that will be
carried into the next world. What you will carry into
the next world is the quality
of your love. That's what heaven is,
it's love. And therefore
he's dead right. It's what you give away
on earth that you will carry into
heaven with you. It's the attitude of
detachment and generosity. So don't worry, everybody,
about building bigger barns. How much time most of us
spend obsessed with that, some version of
building bigger barns. Forget about it. Rather —I use the Lord's language— build up your
treasure in heaven. Then you'll find joy. And God bless you.
