VANITY AND THE FOOLISHNESS OF ACQUISITION
I once read that Liberace died with five furnished residences and warehouses full of expensive items for which he had no room in any of these residences! It is usually this sort of image that comes to mind when we read the Gospel parable about the “rich fool” which is found in Luke 12:13-21 and read in most churches this weekend. In the parable, a rich man has more crops than he can use, and he decides to tear down all his barns to build larger ones in which to store his excess. Having stored his treasure, he anticipates a life of luxury in which he will “eat, drink and be merry.” What he does not realize is that he has but one day of life left to live. He was to enjoy none of the fruits of his labour (or, more honestly, the fruits of the labour of his many servants). This Gospel is usually paired with the reading from Ecclesiastes declaring that most of our efforts on this earth are vanity.
While we usually imagine this reading applying to the Liberaces of the world, the vain pursuit of worldly goods pervades all levels of society and afflicts not only individuals but communities and even nations. In my work with people who are unhoused, I also see folks who collect all manner of items, often storing these in shopping carts which they push around town. In my pastoral ministry, I have witnessed time and again how the lifetime acquisitions of a person become nothing but burdens to those who are left behind. I have seen this close-up in my own family where having more than one of something was the beginning of a collection. Stamps, coins, antiques, teacups even jam jars – everything was a “collectible.” While reality TV shows promote the idea that everyone has a golden nugget hidden somewhere in their attic of possessions, ultimately most of what we pursue is but vanity. Vanity and landfill!
There is nothing wrong with surrounding ourselves with beauty. (I, for instance, find it helps me write when I sit at my small desk with some inspiring pictures on the wall in front of me and a cup of tea in a nice mug beside me.) And for many people, great joy is to be found in collecting rocks, or seashells, or in achieving “bucket list” goals or social accolades. Finally, it is wise to plan our resources with care so that we do not die in poverty having spent all our wealth satisfying our every immediate desire. Nevertheless, we must never be under the illusion that having lovely things, collecting, achieving or saving is of ultimate value. It is also wise to be wary of the very real danger that lurks in the human tendency to acquire and hoard.
An examination of conscience might prompt us to ask ourselves some questions that will keep us from being vain, rich fools. Do we share generously and equitably all that we have? Do our possessions nurture or harm our relationships with others? Do they have a disproportionate place in our lives? (Oh, how to determine this?) Does our collecting of items enhance our lives and the lives of others? Does it harm the environment? Is it acquired at the cost of the impoverishment of people living elsewhere in the world? Do the items stored in our metaphorical (or real) barns, delight us and others or do they feed the jealously, greed, insecurity or pride that lurks just under the skin?
Our collected treasure is mostly vanity and will not likely lead us closer to God. The caution of Jesus’ parable is to ensure that it does not prevent us from being rich in our relationships with God and our brothers and sisters.
Christine Way Skinner is a doctoral student at Regis St. Michael’s at the Toronto School of Theology and has been a lay pastoral minister for more than 30 years. Together with her husband, Michael, she has parented 6 wonderful children. She has written a number of books for Novalis on living the Catholic faith for both adults and children.
