Well the Book of Ecclesiastes is a real “downer!” The book doesn’t have many references to God, nor an allusion to life after death. According to Ecclesiastes, all we have is what we can see: who knows God’s plan for us? “All things are vanity!”
The author named himself Qohelet and from his perspective nothing good will survive death. At the time Qohelet wrote the Jewish faith had not yet acknowledged life after death. So, from Qohelet perspective, what we have here is all that we have. After a person dies someone else, “who had not labored” for the property, would possess it. Qohelet’s negative view made it difficult for the book to be accepted in the Hebrew canon. What probably saved it was the book’s epilogue (12:9-14), “Fear God and keep God’s commandments, this is a person’s call: because God will bring to judgment every work, with all its hidden qualities, whether good or bad.”
A man I know spent 20 years of his marriage at a job that kept him away from home a lot. As the years passed he got “bumped up the ladder” in his company to higher-paying positions; which also required him to travel more extensively. He was home less and less. Each Monday he flew to another foreign capital, to return homeon Friday evening. For the most part his wife raised their two sons. She said, “For 20 years I’ve been a single-parent.” They have been going for marriage counseling hoping to save their marriage. Qohelet suggests a question many of us have to reflect on, “What’s it all about?”
The book of Ecclesiastes doesn’t make many references to God. It’s more of a guide to living — and a pessimistic one at that. But for the “practical person” it may be a wake-up call to examine one’s life and priorities. Is it all vanity? Which leads us to the gospel.
Have you ever had a surprise party? You arrive at a family member’s home for, what you thought was, an intimate dinner party. Instead, when you arrive family and close friends switch on the lights and shout “Surprise!” It’s a surprise party for you. Other surprises we would prefer not to have. Bad news always seems to come like a surprise; a startled turn when things go bad. In a moment a world of comfort, a way of living, or our expectations suffer a serious blow. All can collapse by a phone call, or with a doctor reading an x-ray, or blood test result to us.
Parables were Jesus’ favorite way to teach; not by applying rules and regulations, but by appealing to our imagination. It was his way of saying, “Here, ponder this one… Reflect on your life… Draw your own conclusions.” This was certainly the case with today’s parable.
Someone wants Jesus to deal with a financial matter. Is that what they thought of Jesus; that he was one of the teachers of the law and an arbitrator in family issues? Still, he took the opportunity to teach through a parable, with the hope of drawing the listeners into deeper issues. He was offering his listeners an opportunity to think about their values, plans, pet projects and how they looked at life.
Jesus opens his parable: “There was a rich man whose land produced a bountiful harvest.” Who wouldn’t want to be in that man’s shoes? So much security! Well-being! Picture his ample table all covered with gourmet foods with distinguished table guests. A report comes in — the best news — too much harvest, and too little barn space. Who wouldn’t want his “problem?” Such a problem! It’s as if you have won the $130 million lottery and you were the only winner. The only “problem” would be how to spend it.
The clinker. Just when the man is lulled into comfortable thoughts and is making plans and projects — “Surprise!” God makes an appearance and passes a verdict on the man’s whole life, “You fool, this night your life shall be demanded of you and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?” There are echoes of our first reading here: who will get all the treasures the man has accumulated when he dies?
Note: it doesn’t say God will take his life. Will the villains be his greedy family members; his underpaid employees; those attracted by his riches? We don’t know, but what we do know is that in the midst of contentment and self congratulation complete collapse happens and everything falls apart. It reminds me of Charles Dickens’ story, “A Christmas Carol.” After Ebenezer Scrooge dies his housekeeper and undertaker strip his room of bedding, drapery, and anything else they could grab. “…and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?”
What caused the man’s downfall? One of his problems was that there was no one else in his world; he was a person talking to himself. Did he have a wife? What would she have to say? Were there children? There was no human community in his considerations. God calls him a fool — the man’s sole and chief advisor was himself, a “fool.”
We are part of a community. Others need to be involved in our decisions, especially if they are affected by them. As the poet said, “No one is an island.” Others also need to be part of our concern. Would the man’s employees share in his well-being? The man knew no limits. How much is enough? How much is too much? The man How big a car? How big a house? How many cars? How many televisions? Etc. When we enter our “consultation room” to consider our lives and our future plans, whom do we bring into the conversation? When we decide for “more,” what are the consequences for our environment?
The man was deluded by his possessions. He thought they guaranteed his present and future happiness. He called his possessions “good things.” Some might even call them “blessings” — but are what we call “blessings” really that? Others who have less, but are without the man’s “good things,” may be very rich indeed: as the parable puts it, in “what matters to God.” That could be our meditation this day: what matters to God? And what am I doing about it? What would it mean to be “rich in God’s sight?”
In light of today’s parable, being “rich in what matters to God” could mean: seeing possessions in the light of others’ needs; not deciding important matters on my own; discerning what God might want before I act; reflecting on the cost to others of my decisions; not putting my trust in what won’t last; counting as true riches my relationships with others and how they are affected by my life choices.
No matter how much I have, I come to this Eucharist hungry for God and for God’s ways. I am grateful for real blessings: certainly for enough food and drink and the nourishing gifts of the Earth. But also for faith that gives me clear vision to know when enough is enough and who and what are my real treasures. What makes me rich in God’s sight?