Author: Msgr. Charles Pope

Today I would like to discuss the Gospel from last Saturday morning’s daily Mass (25^th Week of the Year). For indeed one of the more beautiful passages in the Old Testament is the 12th Chapter of Ecclesiastes. It is a melancholy but soulful meditation on old age. Its poetic imagery is masterful as it draws from the increasingly difficult effects of old age such as hearing loss, fading eyesight, difficulty walking, digestive issues, and even gray hair.

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come And the years approach of which you will say, I have no pleasure in them; Before the sun is darkened. and the light, and the moon, and the stars, while the clouds return after the rain; When the guardians of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, And the grinders are idle because they are few, and they who look through the windows grow blind; When the doors to the street are shut, and the sound of the mill is low; When one waits for the chirp of a bird, but all the daughters of song are suppressed; And one fears heights, and perils in the street; When the almond tree blooms, and the locust grows sluggish and the caper berry is without effect, Because man goes to his lasting home, and mourners go about the streets; Before the silver cord is snapped and the golden bowl is broken, And the pitcher is shattered at the spring, and the broken pulley falls into the well, And the dust returns to the earth as it once was, and the life breath returns to God who gave it. Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, all things are vanity! (Ecclesiastes 12:1-8)

And now some commentary on each verse (my comments are in red)

Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come And the years approach of which you will say, I have no pleasure in them;

We are advised to give thanks to God for the vigor of youth because “evil” days will come. Here evil does not mean “sinfully evil.” Rather, it refers to days that are difficult and bad, days that bring challenge and pain.

We might want to be thankful for living in the modern age, because the burdens of old age are far less than they were in ancient times. Consider all the medicines and aids that make aging less difficult: Pain medicines alleviate arthritis; calcium supplements help with osteoporosis; blood pressure medication helps prevent stroke and partial paralysis; motorized scooters increase mobility; eyeglasses and hearing aids improve our ability to interact. In the ancient world, age only brought increasing and cumulative burdens, so that our author says regarding these days, “I have no pleasure in them.”

Before the sun is darkened. and the light, and the moon, and the stars, while the clouds return after the rain;

This is a poignantly poetic description of eyesight going bad. The light darkens, the moon and stars are less visible (perhaps they are blurry), and the clouds of cataracts begin to afflict the elderly.

When the guardians of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, And the grinders are idle because they are few, and they who look through the windows grow blind;

The “guardians of the house” are the arms. They begin to tremble with the tremors common to old age, even without Parkinson’s disease.

The “strong men” are the legs. They are bent, less able to carry the weight of the body. Bent also describes the legs when we are seated, unable to walk.

The “grinders” are the teeth and they are few! We have far better dental health today. In ancient times, it was common for the elderly to have lost many if not most of their teeth. This made it difficult to eat and required food to be mashed.

The image of an elderly person sitting by a window looking out, but able to see less and less, is surely sad, but also vivid. I remember my grandmother in her last years. She could no longer read much because her eyesight was so poor and her mind could not concentrate on the text. So she sat for hours and just looked out the window.

When the doors to the street are shut, and the sound of the mill is low; When one waits for the chirp of a bird, but all the daughters of song are suppressed;

The “doors to the street” are the tightly compressed lips common to the very elderly, especially when teeth are missing. It also depicts how many of the elderly stop talking much. Their mouths seem shut tight.

The sound of the mill may be another reference to chewing. Many of the elderly lose their appetite. One the psalms says regarding the elderly, “I moan like a dove and forget to eat my bread” (Psalm 102:4).

Waiting for the chirp of the birds may be a reference to the silence of the elderly, but it may also be a reference to deafness, as many can no longer hear their singing and chirping, something the young often take for granted.

And one fears heights, and perils in the street; When the almond tree blooms, and the locust grows sluggish and the caper berry is without effect,

Walking is difficult, sometimes treacherous, and requires great effort for many of the elderly. Whereas the young may not think twice about climbing a flight of stairs, the elderly may see them as an insurmountable obstacle.

Perils in the street like loose or upturned stones cause fear because falls for the elderly can be catastrophic. They may also not be able to get up if they fall.

The almond tree blooming is a symbol for gray hair because almond trees had white blooms.

The caper berry had several uses in the ancient world. It was an appetite stimulant, an aphrodisiac, and was also used to treat rheumatism!  But in old age, it would seem that the desired effects are hard to come by.

Because man goes to his lasting home, and mourners go about the streets; Before the silver cord is snapped and the golden bowl is broken, And the pitcher is shattered at the spring, and the broken pulley falls into the well, And the dust returns to the earth as it once was, and the life breath returns to God who gave it.

Finally, death comes, as symbolized by the mourners in the street. The silver cord and the golden bowl, symbols of life, are now snapped and broken.

The broken pitcher symbolizes that the body no longer contains the soul.

The pulley, a device used to lift, is now broken, indicating that the body will no longer rise from its place but rather fall into the well of the grave.

And we return to the dust and the soul goes to God.

Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, all things are vanity!

In the end, all things pass. Nothing remains. Because all things are to pass, they are vain (empty). The physical world is less real than the spiritual world, because the physical passes while the spiritual remains. Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at God’s right hand (Col 1:3).

This chapter from Ecclesiastes is a sad but powerfully beautiful description of old age. I have often shared it with the very elderly and those who are suffering the ill effects of old age. I remember reading it slowly to my father as he lay dying in his hospital room. He could no longer talk much, but as I read it to him I saw him nod and raise his hands as if to say “Amen!” It was almost as if he meant to say, “Somebody understands; God understands.” Perhaps you also know an elderly person who could benefit from this passage. I know that it is sad and that not everyone is in a condition that they can hear such a stark and sad description, but some are in a frame of mind such that they can derive peace from it, as God, through His word, tell them that He knows exactly what they are going through.

https://youtu.be/FinjNCcxlTs

 

One of the great illusions under which we labor is that if we only get just one more thing from this world, then we will be happy. Perhaps we think that if we just had a little more money, or a better job, or the latest iPhone, or if we were married to so-and-so, or if we lived in a better neighborhood, then we would be satisfied and content at last. But “at last” never seems to come even if we do get some of the things on our list. As Ecclesiastes puts it, The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing (Ecc 1:8). Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income (Ecc. 5:8).

Although we realize this deep down, we continue to fall for the lie again and again. We think that just one more thing will do the trick. So we lay out the money and spend the time. And then the delight lasts twenty minutes at most! The world just can’t close the deal.

There is a joke (a parable, in my mind) that illustrates the endless treadmill the world has us on and how it continually seduces us into wanting just one more thing. In the end, this leads us to neglect the one thing most necessary.

There was a lonely man who thought that perhaps buying pet would ease his loneliness. So he went to the pet store and looked at many animals. He found himself drawn to one in particular. The sign over the cage said, “Talking Parrot: Guaranteed to talk.” Thinking that this would surely solve his problem, the man brought the cage up to the merchant at the counter.

“That’ll be $250, please.”

A week later the man returned, disappointed.

“This parrot isn’t talking!”

“You mean to say that he didn’t climb the ladder and talk?”

“Ladder? You didn’t tell me about a ladder!”

“Oh, sorry. The ladder is $10.”

So the man bought the ladder, brought it home, and put it in the cage. Another week went by and the man returned to the pet store.

“This parrot still isn’t talking!”

“You mean to say that he didn’t climb the ladder, look in the mirror, and talk?”

“Mirror? You didn’t mention anything about a mirror!”

“Oh, sorry. It’ll be $10 for the mirror.”

So the man bought the mirror, brought it home, and put it in the cage along with the ladder. Another week went by and the man returned to the pet store again.

“This parrot still isn’t talking!”

“You mean to say that he didn’t climb the ladder, look in the mirror, peck the bell, and talk?”

“Bell? You didn’t say anything about a bell!”

“Oh, sorry. The bell is $10.”

So the man bought the bell, brought it home, and put it in the cage along with the ladder and the mirror. Yet another week went by and the man returned to the pet store.

“This parrot still isn’t talking!”

“You mean to say that he didn’t climb the ladder, look in the mirror, peck the bell, jump on the swing, and talk?”

“Swing? You didn’t tell me about a swing!”

“Oh, sorry. It’ll be $10 for the swing.”

So the man bought the swing, brought it home, and put it in the cage along with the ladder, the mirror, and the bell. One more week went by and the man returned to the pet store again.

“How’s your parrot?”

“He’s dead!”

“Dead? Did he ever talk before he died?”

“Yes, he did finally talk.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Don’t they sell any birdseed at that store?’”

Lesson 1: Promises, Promises

The world and the “prince of this world” are always promising results, yet when those results aren’t forthcoming there are only more demands. First the bird, then the ladder, the bell, the mirror, and the swing. There is always just one more thing that’s needed before the perfect result comes! But it’s a lie. The lie comes in many forms: you just need one more accessory, or the upgraded version of the app, or just one more drink, or a newer car, or a bigger house, or a face lift, or bariatric surgery. Yes, you just need one more thing and then you’ll be there. Happiness is always just past the next purchase.

In speaking to the woman at the well, Jesus said, Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again (Jn 4:13). And that is the sober truth about this world: it cannot finally quench our thirst, which is a thirst for God and Heaven. But time and time again we go back to the world and listen to the same lie, thinking that this time it will be different.

Surely it is sensible to make use of the things of this world to aid us in accomplishing our basic duties, but they are not the answer to our deeper needs. The big lie is that they are the answer. And when they fail to satisfy us, the lie just gets bigger, declaring that just a little more of it will surely close the deal.

Lesson 2: The One Thing Most Necessary

In buying the ladder, mirror, bell, and swing, the man neglected the most important thing: food. So, too, for us. We seek to accumulate worldly toys and trinkets that are passing, while neglecting eternal and lasting realities. We seem to find time for TV, sports, shopping, etc., but neglect or completely forget about prayer, Scripture, the Sacraments, the Liturgy, worship, and the development of any kind of relationship with the Lord. We are staring into the mirror focused on our own self. The enticements of this world summon us to endless things, mostly trivial in the long run. We are climbing the ladder of success without regard as to what is at the top of that ladder.

All of these less important matters divert us from the one thing necessary: feeding our souls on the Lord. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him…the one who feeds on me will live because of me (Jn 6:56-58).

Ah, but there’s no time for all that. Getting to Mass, praying, receiving Holy Communion? No time! I hear a bell summoning me to just one more diversion, one more meeting. I’m too busy climbing the ladder of success. I’m too busy looking at myself in the mirror to make sure that I fit in, and that everyone likes me.

“Dead? Did he ever talk before he died?”

“Yes, he did finally talk.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Don’t they sell any birdseed at that store?’”

Just a little parable on the lies of the devil and the empty promises of this world.

On the Feast Day of St. Matthew (celebrated Wednesday of this week), we must acknowledge a great mercy in Jesus’ call. As a tax collector, Matthew was considered a great sinner. In fact, the term “tax collector” was a biblical euphemism for great sinner. Yet despite this, Jesus called him to be an Apostle.

In our times many set mercy and the fact that we are sinners in in opposition to each other. But the Lord Jesus unites these realities together. For the Lord, mercy is necessary because there is sin, not because sin is “no big deal.” It is because sin is a big deal that mercy is needed and is glorious.

Bishop Robert Barron aptly states, Many receive the message of divine mercy as tantamount to a denial of the reality of sin, as though sin no longer matters. But just the contrary is the case. To speak of mercy is to be intensely aware of sin and its peculiar form of destructiveness (Vibrant Paradoxes: The Both/And of Catholicism, p. 1).

Mercy does not deny sin; it acknowledges it and supplies an often-challenging remedy. Jesus shows mercy by calling us from our sin and healing us from its effects.

This understanding is evident in the Gospel for the Feast of St. Matthew:

As Jesus passed by,
he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post.
He said to him, “Follow me.”
And he got up and followed him.
While he was at table in his house,
many tax collectors and sinners came
and sat with Jesus and his disciples.
The Pharisees saw this and said to his disciples,
“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”
He heard this and said,
“Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do.
Go and learn the meaning of the words,
I desire mercy, not sacrifice.
I did not come to call the righteous but sinners” (Matt. 9:9-13).

Notice three things from this Gospel about the relationship between mercy and sin:

I. In His mercy, Jesus reckons us as sinners and regards us as sick. Jesus states plainly, “I have come to call sinners” (this means us). He also says that those who are well do not need a doctor, but the sick do (this means us).

Many today have been deceived. Some even call their sin good and something of which to be proud. They say, “God made me this way,” or “God likes me just the way I am.” No! To those such as these the Lord Jesus says, “You are sick. You are a sinner.” An antiphon in the Breviary says, God sees all men as sinners, that he might show them his mercy.

So in His mercy Jesus does not overlook sin or call it something good; he calls it what it is: sin and sickness.

II. In His mercy, Jesus summons us to change. In this Gospel, Jesus calls Matthew away from his tax post. He says, “Follow me.” In other words, “Stop what you are doing, come away from it, and follow me out of here.” To the woman caught in adultery He says, “Do not sin again.” Jesus began His ministry by saying, “Repent and believe the Gospel.” To repent (metanoiete) means to change, to come to a new and different mind.

The changes Jesus insists upon are too numerous to list in their entirety, but among them are that we become free of lust, vengeful anger, greed, and unforgiveness, and that we become more generous, loving, serene, faithful, and trusting.

Thus in His mercy Jesus does not confirm us in our sin; He summons us away from it. He summons us to change and equips us to do so. His merciful call is “Come away from here. Enough of this; follow me.”

III. In His mercy, Jesus heals sinners of sin. Jesus uses the image of a doctor and states plainly that sick people (sinners) need a doctor. Jesus is that doctor. A doctor does not look at a sick patient and say, “You’re just fine the way you are” or “I affirm you.” That would be malpractice. Jesus sees sin for what it is. He calls it such and prescribes the necessary medicines. He will also likely speak to a person’s lifestyle and recommend needed changes. This is how a doctor heals.

Jesus invokes the image of a doctor with what He does. He diagnoses and says, “This is bad. This is sickness. This is sin.” He then applies healing remedies such as the Sacraments, the Holy Liturgy, His Word, the carrying of the cross, active and passive purifications, punishments due to sin, solid moral teaching, and holy fellowship. Like a doctor, Jesus summons us from a bad and unhealthy life to a good and healthy one.

Thus, in His mercy, Jesus heals our sins. He does not ignore them or approve of them. And He certainly does not call them good or something to celebrate. In His mercy, He heals them; He ends them.

So mercy is not a bland kindness. It is not mere flattery that pretends that sin does not exist or that it doesn’t matter. Beware of fake, flattering mercy. True mercy says, “Sin is awful. Let’s get out of here and go to a far better place.”

Matthew got up and followed Jesus. How about us?

One of the great mysteries of our life in this world is that we can endure more pain than pleasure. Indeed, we can endure only a little pleasure at a time. In fact, too much pleasure actually brings pain: sickness, hangovers, obesity, addiction, laziness, and even boredom. Yet we seem to be able to endure a lot of pain. Some of our pain, whether physical or emotional, can be very intense and go on for years.

Why is it that we can endure more pain than pleasure?

Physiologists and anthropologists might focus their answer on the fact that we are wired for survival and being able to endure pain helps us more than being able to enjoy pleasure. Fair enough. But I would like to offer an additional answer from a spiritual point of view.

The spiritual answer is that pain is for now while pleasure is for the hereafter. In this world, this exile, this valley of tears, we are being tested; we are meant to fill up our quotient of pain. And while we do enjoy some pleasures here, they are only a foretaste of what will be fully ours only in Heaven. In this world the foretaste seems limited to bite-sized morsels. Otherwise (as noted) we are overwhelmed by pleasure, distracted by it, and even sickened and enslaved by it. Until pain has had its proper effect within us, we are not disciplined or pure enough to properly enjoy large amounts of pleasure.

Pain is thus our first assignment here in this world, this paradise lost. Pain both purifies and teaches.

We should recall that God offered us the paradise of Eden with the proviso that we trust Him to teach us what is best. But we insisted on the knowledge of good and evil for ourselves and the right to decide what was right and wrong. We wanted a better deal than Eden. Here we are now in that “better deal.” Adam and Eve chose to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, even knowing that God had said it would usher in suffering and death. And we have all ratified their choice on countless occasions.

God, respecting our freedom, did not undo our choice. Rather, He said, in effect, “Fine, I will meet you at the cross of suffering and death, and allow that very suffering and death to be the way back to me.” And thus the way back to paradise, and to an even higher and heavenly glory, is through the cross.

This is why our tolerance for pain is greater now than is our capacity for pleasure. God has equipped us in this way because pain is for now; pleasure is for later.

Frankly, we need a high tolerance for pain, because it is a needed remedy for a very serious malady. Our condition is grave and requires strong medicine. The cross and its pain is the strong medicine needed. And thus our tolerance for pain must be certainly be greater than our capacity for pleasure.

Pain, despite its unpleasant qualities, has many salutary effects. It teaches us limits and helps conquer our pride. It purifies us. It reminds us that this world is passing and cannot ultimately be our answer. It intensifies our longing for Heaven and the shalom of God. If we endure pain with faith, it draws us to seek help and to trust God more. Pain endured with faith is like being under the surgeon’s scalpel. The scalpel inflicts pain but only to cut away what is harmful. It is a strong but healing medicine.

For now, our assignment is clear. Pain has the upper hand and is the strong medicine we need. When in pain, seek relief from God. But if he says no, remember that God promises that His grace will be sufficient for us (see 2 Cor 12:9), and that pain has a healing place for now. It is indeed a gift in a strange package.

Yes, it is a mysterious truth that we have a higher tolerance for pain than for pleasure. But given our current location in paradise lost, it makes sense. One day when suffering, pain, and death have had their full effect, we will enter into the Heaven of God, where pain will be no more and where our capacity for pleasure will blossom like a rose. Having been purified by our pain, our capacity for pleasure will now be full and there will be joys unspeakable and glories untold.