News about Joseph Biden’s presidential work habits is nothing new. A political pundit once observed that Jimmy Carter was often in the Oval Office at 6 am and left at midnight. Ronald Reagan seldom was in before 9:30 and often left at 5, and he did press rounds. Some press began to badger him about his quote “lazy” work habits. Reagan replied: “It's true hard work never killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance.” I'll follow Reagan's advice.
Work/life balance relates to the word of God.
Ecclesiastes has a preacher or “arguer” reflecting upon the transitory nature of life and the obsession of many people with wealth—the compulsion to have more and more of everything at the expense of generosity. These, the author says, are empty pursuits. They won’t make us happy, and ultimately, we will die and leave them to someone else.
Ecclesiastes invites us to reassess our lives, to live a simpler lifestyle so that others can simply live.
Paul, in his letter to the Christian community in Colossae (a city in western Turkey), proclaims we are one with Jesus Christ. Therefore, focus on heavenly things. Practice virtue, Paul says, because we are images of God, and our everyday behavior ought to reflect God's likeness.
Jesus, in today’s Gospel parable, calls the one who accumulates wealth only for him/herself a fool. The rich man forgets his absolute dependency upon God, his own mortality. He accumulates wealth. But for what? He dies that night; and someone else benefits from his greed.
In light of the Gospel, imagine for a moment that we have died. Friends and family gather to remember “Who was this person?” We need things in order to live, but all we can take with us in death are our good deeds. It’s interesting that the Roman Senate decreed each time a victorious general entered Rome, someone stood holding a golden wreath over his head and whispering, “Memento, mori! Remember, you will die.” The reality of death challenges us to answer the most important questions: How shall I live? What shall I do?
Blaise Pascal, a 17th century philosopher, plumbed this dilemma: either there's life after death or there's nothing. Confronted with two options—one true, one false, one appealing, one alarming—and having no certain way of knowing which was true, the only realistic option for Pascal was the appealing choice.
When the doorway to death opens, I believe “I’m entering into a new transformative happy life.” So said Pascal.
The so-called last things—hell, purgatory, and heaven—are challenging beliefs. How can we say there’s an all-good God, and there’s a hell? Yes, scripture describes these last things.
But I also suggest you consider Dante’s The Divine Comedy. Dante imaginatively reveals how he awoke in a dark wood (perhaps a midlife crisis) where the Roman poet Virgil leads him through earth to hell (Dante’s famous line, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here”). They see sinners undergoing punishments in nine descending circles. Then they emerge to begin their ascent to the seven cornices of purgatory, and finally, with his beloved Beatrice, Dante climbs the nine heavenly spheres of paradise and into the dazzling vision of the Triune God.
The Divine Comedy is not easily readable but profoundly instructive about life. Heaven and hell answer the question of justice. Many good people die without receiving in this life an adequate reward for their goodness, and many wicked people die without paying for their wickedness.
The language of hell, purgatory, and heaven is best understood symbolically. God does not “send” us to hell; we freely choose to go. Also, although we accept the possibility of hell (in light of the dynamic between God's unconditional love for us and our human freedom to reject that love), we don’t have to believe that human beings are actually “in” such a “place.” In fact, we hope all will find salvation.
If we peel away its fiery imagery, hell can be described as the absence of God, the failure to realize our true selves, whereas heaven is the ultimate fulfillment of our true selves. Purgatory then is a “purification” in which we become our true selves. And judgment is our own recognition of what was good and wrong in ourselves.
Finally, we believe that in the mystery of death, God will transform our earthly selves, like God did to Jesus before us, into a new, indescribable heavenly reality. St. Paul put it well when he wrote, “No eye has seen, no mind has ever imagined … what God has prepared for those who love Him.”
May today’s word of God challenge us to seek first the kingdom of God.
Web Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
News about presidential work habits is nothing new. A political pundit once observed that Jimmy Carter was often in the Oval Office at 6 am and left at midnight. Ronald Reagan was seldom in before 9:30 and often left at 5. As he did press rounds, some began to badger him about his quote “lazy” work habits. Reagan replied: “It's true hard work never killed anybody, but I figure, why take the chance.”
A work/life balance relates to the word of God.
Jesus in the Gospel parable calls the one who accumulates wealth only for him/herself a fool. The rich man forgets his absolute dependency upon God, his own mortality. He accumulates wealth. He dies. Someone else benefits from his greed.
In light of the Gospel, imagine for a moment that we have died. Friends and family gather to remember “Who was this person?” We need things in order to live, but all we can take with us in death are our good deeds. The reality of death challenges us to answer the important questions: How shall I live? What shall I do?
Blaise Pascal, a 17th century philosopher, plumbed this dilemma: either there's life after death or there's nothing. Confronted with two options—one true, one false, one appealing, one alarming—and with no certain way of knowing which was true, the option for Pascal was the appealing choice.
When the doorway to death opens, I believe “I’m entering into a new transformative happy life.”
Hell, purgatory, and heaven are challenging beliefs. How can we say there’s an all-good God, and there’s a hell? Yes, scripture describes the last things.
Also consider Dante’s The Divine Comedy. Dante imaginatively reveals how he awoke in a dark wood (maybe a midlife crisis) where the poet Virgil leads him through earth to hell (Dante’s famous line, “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here”). They see sinners undergoing punishments. Then they emerge to ascend to purgatory, and finally, with his beloved Beatrice, Dante climbs the heavenly spheres of paradise and into the dazzling vision of the Triune God.
The Divine Comedy is profoundly instructive about life. Heaven and hell answer the question of justice. Many good people die without receiving in this life an adequate reward, and many wicked people die without paying.
The language of hell, purgatory, and heaven is best understood symbolically. God does not “send” us to hell; we freely choose to go. Also, although we accept the possibility of hell (in light of God's love for us and our human freedom to reject that love), we don’t have to believe that human beings are actually “in” such a “place.” In fact, we hope all will find salvation.
Hell can be described as the absence of God, the failure to realize our true selves, whereas heaven is the ultimate fulfillment of our true selves. Purgatory then is a “purification” in which we become our true selves. Judgment is our own recognition of what was good and wrong in ourselves.
Finally, we believe that in the mystery of death, God will transform our earthly selves, like Jesus before us, into a new, indescribable heavenly reality. May today’s word of God challenge us to seek first the kingdom of God.
