If we were to believe what television, social media, Hollywood, and the other voices that shape our culture teach us about how to enjoy a happy life, the lesson is simple: The more possessions we amass, the happier we’ll be.
To wit: As a measure of personal wealth, we’ve learned to judge ourselves—and others and others have learned to judge themselves and us, too—by the number of possessions we amass. Yes, indeed! Bigger is better and more translates into happier. After all, our culture teaches us, “Size matters!”
Yet, despite what all those voices have to say about what we must do to enjoy a happy life, Jesus teaches something quite different in today’s gospel:
…for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.
In other words, Jesus is teaching us that we aren’t really living life at all. Yes, we may be living the “high life” as our culture defines it. But, frittering each day away on what’s meaningless and trite, we aren’t living the kind of life that brings the kind of abiding happiness that God had in mind for each one of us in and from the beginning.
Disagree?
Try this mental experiment based upon experience: There’s nothing like a disaster—natural or other such—to teach us that we’re worshipping a false idol and following a false religion.
How many times have we viewed news reports of wildfires, hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, and the like rising up and reducing to the dust of the Earth all the possessions countless numbers of people have amassed? When interviewed on TV, victims relate the pain they’re suffering because they’ve lost their most prized possessions and heirlooms—especially things like photo albums containing pictures of loved ones, clothing, and jewelry—none of which, they say, “can ever be replaced.” All those things have been erased from the face of the Earth.
Natural tragedies like these move our hearts with pity for the victims, doesn’t they? We empathize with the victims, thinking “Isn’t that just horrible?” Then we add: “I don’t know what I would do if that ever happened to me.”
How many times have we viewed news reports of deadly car accidents and fatal shootings or stabbings in the nation’s urban locales wherein family members are incredulous upon suddenly having to confront the reality that their beloved won’t be returning home through the front door ever again? When interviewed on TV, they bear-hug pictures, clothing, and other possessions belonging to that family member which serve as reminders of the deceased.
Once again, each tragedy moves our hearts with pity for those folks, doesn’t it? We think, “Such a horror!” and console ourselves with the thought, “Thank goodness, I live in a safe neighborhood where nothing like that will ever happen to me.”
How many times have news reports told us of people who’ve lost their electricity? If it’s during the summer, they’re without air conditioning or during the winter, there’s no heat in the frigid and icy cold. No matter when the electricity goes out, if it stays out for any sustained length of time, there’s no refrigeration and food spoils. And, heaping horror upon horror: There’s no television and, within a short time, smartphones are reduced to the status of dumbphones! Even for those who have purchased and installed generators, when the natural gas or propane runs out, that’s it…no electric. Think about what’s going to happen to all those electric cars!
When we view these reports, each event moves our hearts with pity for all those poor folks, doesn’t it? But, in this instance, the potential loss of electricity and its impact upon daily life causes us to muse: “I think I’d die if that happened to me. How could I possibly live without electricity?”
I’ll say it once again: Those of us whose belief and religious practice is shaped by what the voices of our secular, materialist, and consumer-driven culture teach us aren’t living the life that will bring the abiding happiness God intended for each and every one of us in and from the beginning…even if we are living the “high life” as our culture defines it.
The fact is that we may have it good, if not very good for a while, maybe even for a good, long while. But, in the end, death will rob us of everything we possess…even life itself.
Reflecting upon all the faith, hope, and love we’ve invested in amassing all those possessions, Jesus asks us as his disciples: “Did you really live and were you truly happy?” The answer for many of us, of course, is “No.” What we did was “live through things”; we didn’t “live for anything.”
Had we only taken to heart Qoheleth’s admonition that we heard in today’s first reading:
Vanity of vanities…vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
All those prized possessions—the things about which Qoheleth speaks—require us to toil and labor during the days, weeks, and months of our lives as we strive to fulfill our resolute ambition to make ourselves happy by surrounding ourselves with possessions. Then too, when we should be fast asleep at night today, we worry and fret about how we’re going to acquire more and more possessions that we’re promised will bring us even greater happiness and satisfaction tomorrow. So, we muse: “If only I won the lotto, I’d be perfectly happy!”
Yet, if we just stopped amidst this frenzied desire, once we’ve amassed more than a considerable number of possessions, our belief that the truly happy life consists of possessions requires us to surrender our peace of mind and forsake a good night’s sleep. How so? We spend hours worrying and fretting about how we’re going to protect all those things or amass yet even more of them because all the things we currently possess doesn’t make us happy like they used to!
Consider the history of televisions: Who didn’t lust for a black-and-white TV in the 1950s, a color TV in the 1960s, a SONY Trinitron in the 1980s, a plasma-screened TV in the 2000s, and a 54-inch, jumbo, theater-sized projection screen in the 2020s? Where did all those TVs end up that made everyone so deliriously happy over the decades? In the landfill.
This also of the history of computers: Who didn’t lust for an 8-function Texas Instruments calculator in the early 1970s, an Apple IIe or Macintosh in the mid-1980s, a Blackberry in the 2000s, or an iPhone in the 2010s? Again: Where did all those devices end up when a “newer and better” version was marketed in TV commercials? In the landfill.
You’ve heard me say it before and I’ll say it again, “They don’t attach a U-Haul to a hearse.” In short: When we die, we will leave everything behind. Just ask anyone who has been forced to move out of their home and into an assisted-living facility. No matter how loudly we express the unique and wondrous grandeur of our individuality through our possessions, all of it will eventually end up in a landfill. Concurrently, what remains of us will end up in some type of urn or casket. Moreover, almost all of us will be forgotten…within one short generation.
We may not like to think about these facts of life but Jesus’ teaching—“…for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions”—should scald our vanity of vanities and put to flight much of what informs today’s culture and politics, including the weird mental illnesses that are being normalized in matters of human sexuality. Additionally, whether there’s a Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory or not doesn’t matter one whit. All of us will meet the same end: We will surrender every possession we’ve amassed since birth and ourselves as well to the Earth from whence all of it has emerged. This is a fact of life for every human being. It doesn’t matter whether we’re a theist, an atheist, or an agnostic.
The Psalmist reminded us today that our lives are like “the changing grass, which at dawn springs up anew but by evening wilts and fades.” The Psalmist offers an antidote to our culture’s false belief and idol worship at the altar of possessions, telling us to “number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.” We number our days aright by becoming conscious of life itself and the difference between the transitory happiness—the false happiness—afforded us by material possessions and the true happiness for which God has created us in and from the beginning.
Concerning the former—the transitory happiness afforded to us through material possessions—perhaps the best image of the cult of secularism, materialism, and consumerism is what Christmas has come to mean to “sleepy” Catholics. For them, first and foremost is the celebration of “G & G”, that’s “giving and getting” things. The logic is simple and straightforward: The more things “sleepy” Catholics give and get (better yet!), the better a Christmas celebration they’ve had…one that made them very happy! (NOTE: You better watch out and you better not cry but there’s only 147 days left to get prepped for Christmas 2022.)
Even if “sleepy” Catholics attend Christmas Mass, that’s and obligatory thing that needs to be “done and over with” so they can move on to the real meaning of Christmas. What motivates most “sleepy” Catholics about Christmas is seeing with their own eyes the glee and delight others experience when they first behold and then lustfully dive into the cornucopia of unbridled avarice that “sleepy” Catholics have been able to give them. Taking immense satisfaction from the fact that they’ve worked hard to they could make others happy with things, the hearts of “sleepy” Catholics are filled with contentment and their faces beam with pride at what they’ve been able to accomplish to make others so very happy. “This is what life is really all about,” “sleepy” Catholics think to themselves as they offer themselves a hearty, congratulatory pat on the back after the exchange of things—“gifts”—on Christmas.
Considering this image, Jesus asks: “Is this what life is really about? Is this what my disciples are to do in memory of me?”
Is life all about working ourselves to the bone so we can catechize those whom we love in the false religion of secularism, materialism, and consumerism and its chief idol possessions (aka, “things”)?
For any of us who think that’s what life is all about, consider this: What happens to all those things when the next Christmas arrives? Do they continue to fill the people to whom you gave them delight and glee?
Of course not. That’s why the vicious cycle of idol worship in the temple of secularism, materialism, and consumerism begins anew. It feeds upon itself and eventually devouring both the one giving and the one getting over the cycle of many Christmases.
“Vanity of vanities…vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!”, Qoheleth reminded us.
Many will object to this characterization of secularism, materialism, and consumerism—the trinity of our culture’s false religion. The folks may even quote the Psalmist who prayed this morning:
…may the gracious care of the LORD our God be ours; prosper the work of our hands for us! Prosper the work of our hands!
Taking that quote entirely out of context, those objecting to this characterization are wittingly or unwittingly promoting the so-called “gospel of prosperity,” meaning, “God rewards people with material possessions for their fidelity.”
Doesn’t this description sound just like how many of us approach Christmas? We reward those we love with material possessions to the degree they do what we want them to do or have asked them to do during the year and they’ve made us happy. Isn’t that just like Santa Claus who, we’ve been told since we were youngsters, keeps a list of who’s been “naughty” and “nice”?
So, what’s this catechesis in the religion of secularism, materialism, and consumerism teach youngsters? “So be good for goodness sake!” If you don’t, you’ll pay the penalty and receive a lump of coal in your Christmas stocking rather than delight in the cornucopia of unbridled avarice.
Think back across the years to all those Christmases. What happened to all those gifts? Think about all those possessions you lusted for as a child and teenager. Then, as an adult, think about all the work, time, and money spent on possessions people don’t even remember or value one year later, except dimly through the foggy lenses of memory?
That represents this week’s challenge from scripture: To do what’s necessary to become rich in what matters to God.
The word “become” is important to note because “being” rich in what matters to God doesn’t happen instantaneously but takes quite a bit of time and practice. Yet, we can take the first step this week by taking to heart and heeding the Psalmist’s advice—to learn to number our days aright that we may gain wisdom of heart.
How might each of us “do this,” as Jesus taught, “in memory of me” so that we will one day become rich in what matters to God?
Upon awaking each morning this week, conduct this memento mori: Pray “Teach me Lord to order today aright.”
Then each day this week, order it aright!
How might we do that and become more “WOKE” Catholics?
Take a tip from today’s scripture: Contemplate the fact you will die—it’s not a question of “if” but of “when” for each one of us and, for some of us, sooner than later. What we don’t know is the day or time. Then, draw up and prioritize a list of six prized possessions you think you’re going to miss most…one for each day of this week. Beginning from the bottom of the list, toss that possession into the trash…where it’s going to end up any way.
Knowing that most folks aren’t going to do that and can easily compile a long list or reasons why not to do this, the point is that, as a first step in ordering our days aright, we need to learn to detach ourselves from our possesses rather than to continue to be driven by the desire to increase their number. That’s the real memento mori for each day this week: “Teach me Lord to order today aright…by assisting me with Your grace to seek the happiness TODAY for which you created me in and from the beginning.”
That happiness—our true and authentic happiness—isn’t discovered in “G & G” possessions but in the fulfillment of the promise we heard on Christmas Eve—“They shall name him ‘Emmanuel,’ which means, ‘God is with us’.” Learning to become less dependent upon the temporary elixir of possessions will assist us to seeks to experience God is with us...not seeking possessions.
Offered up at the beginning of each day this week, this prayer will prepare us to become “WOKE” Catholics who taking the first step in becoming rich in what matters to God.
But it will take time.
How so? Living each day in the conscious awareness that, in the end, all our possessions will be taken away, we will be challenged this week to contemplate where our true happiness is to be found. Why waste what limited time we have on frivolous, meaningless, and trivial pursuits?
Then, with an informed conscience, the choice we make about where we will seek true happiness will be ours…for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death.
What’s the true happiness we should seek as we order our days aright? “The possession of that which can never be taken away.”
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