18th Sunday
in Ordinary Time Year C Deacon John McMullen Christ the King Parish, Evansville, Indiana
Ecclesiastes
1:2; 2:21-23; Colossians 3:1-5.9-11; Luke 12:13-21
a) When I was growing up in
the 1980s in Vincennes I knew a widow who could not get rid of anything nor
would she give anything away, and though she had several children, she would
not share her wealth or possessions with them, because she couldn’t part with
anything – even her deceased husband’s clothes. And he
died in the 1960s! Her home was a veritable museum of her life. [This was long before Hoarders became a TV show].
In fact, it seemed she
believed that all of her material possessions, as long as she kept them, would
somehow help her survive the inevitable – the grave.
But one cold December night she
was smoking while watching television and fell asleep, the cigarette dropping
from her fingers onto some old newspapers and assorted stuff; the lit cigarette
ignited a fire that caused her home to explode in a raging inferno, where she
perished in the blaze.
As an eyewitness to the
fire, it was, in a way, a vision of hell. All that she held dear was consumed
by the flames – including herself – all fuel for a funeral pyre that she had
unwittingly prepared for herself.
How ironic it is that the
very thing that was to provide her with some kind of security was that which
took her life. It was all in vain; gone
in huge plumes of smoke.
b) In today’s gospel when
the man says to Jesus, “Tell my brother to share the inheritance with me,”
Jesus cuts to the quick and replies: “Take care to guard against all greed, for
though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” Then Jesus tells the Parable of the Rich Fool.
Here is a wealthy man with lots of
material goods. But his problem was that he never saw beyond himself. He was
only focused on himself and his own enjoyment, for he only speaks to himself
about himself. What am I to do? My crops
... my grain… my goods, I will
say to myself: I have plenty of good things stored up for many
years, Take your rest, eat, drink, and be merry!”
A Roman proverb says, “Money
is like salt water: the more a man drinks, the thirstier he becomes.” This is
indeed the situation of this man. His sole desire is to get more and more
things for himself so he can enjoy himself.
Note also that there is no
mention of any other person in this man’s life. So when this man was confronted
with such a surplus of extra material goods, it never entered his mind or heart
to give some of them away.
Instead he decided to build
bigger storage barns and thought he would be happier if he kept all of his
stuff to himself, obsessed with storing his worldly treasures for himself.
The man seems to believe
that this world of earthly existence is the only existence. And he never ever
refers to God, for he lives his life as if there is no God or afterlife. This also
explains his worry and anxiety about all of “his” material things. Indeed he
was possessed by his possessions.
This man gave little
consideration that his life might end; it seems that the man was in denial that
he would even die. Or if he would die, it would be in many, many years. Instead
he died that very night.
One wonders what this man
could have done with his wealth of possessions?
How many people could he
have helped in life and made their lives easier if he had only shared his
wealth?
Instead he only lived for
himself and goes down in history as a fool.
(Pause)
Now, I realize that this is
a parable, and the man is fictitious, but in reality have we not heard of or
actually known fools such as the man in the parable?
Too many of us seem to expect
to find our happiness here on earth and in our “stuff” – myself included. I
mean some people have so much stuff that they have to rent storage barns.
Our culture says that the
more we have, the better off we are! And we’ve got so much stuff! But what do
we need with so much stuff?! To what end? How much stuff can I have? I mean,
what would I do with everything? Where would I put it? Seriously.
St. Teresa of Avila said: “The only
treasure you take to heaven is what you gave away while on earth.”
(Pause)
My grandfather worked for
the railroad in Vincennes all of his life and lived in a modest home. He was also
very generous. His motto was: “Might as well give it away while you can.”
Then, close to the end of his
life, in December of 1986 – his home caught fire and he lost practically
everything but his life. When I arrived after the fire, I found him walking
amid the smoldering ash and black heaps of burnt possessions and soggy debris.
The 72 year old man put his
arm around me and through a tear-filled smile, said, “You know, Johnny, I
wasn’t going to be taking any of this with me anyway.”
