Wise Men, Flattering, May Deceive Us

Judas Maccabeus was Handel’s most famous oratorio during his lifetime, more popular even than the Messiah. There are many wonderful moments in it, especially its bold and brave choruses. Written in 1746, it covers the biblical events of 170–160 B.C., when Judea was ruled by the Seleucids and the people were compelled to worship Zeus. Some resisted; others obeyed. The priest Mattathias went to the hills and gathered others who were willing to fight for their faith. This is all recounted in the First Book of Maccabees in the (complete) Catholic Bible. The words to Judas Maccabeus largely paraphrase the biblical text and were written by Thomas Morell.

Of all the arias in the oratorio, I’ve often thought that this one should be more well known, due to its keen reminders to us:

Wise men, flattering, may deceive us;
With their vain, mysterious art;
Magic charms can ne’er relieve us,
Nor can heal the wounded heart.
But true wisdom can relieve us,
Godlike wisdom from above;
This alone can ne’er deceive us,
This alone all pains remove
.

It’s a simple teaching, but so easily forgotten. In a world of false prophets and hucksters with empty promises of what are at best passing comforts, we need to recognize that we are easily deceived. In fact, we seem to enjoy being deceived more than we’d probably like to admit.

Flattery refers to excessive and insincere praise, especially praise given to another in order to further one’s own interests. It is used to beguile or to gain another person’s attention. It is likely of Germanic origin, stemming from a word that meant to stroke or caress repeatedly.

Many, from marketers to politicians to ideologues, seek to ingratiate themselves to us in order to sell products, ideas, or philosophies. The ideologues, especially, try to present themselves as great humanitarians, caring more than others do. They use euphemisms such as choice, progress, death with dignity, and tolerance, so as to stroke us to sleep, to beguile us, to hide the ugly reality (often the death of other human beings) of what these things produce.

So easily do they deceive us. I have noted in other posts that the root of the word deceived lead to the definition “to be picked up and carried off.” The image that comes to mind is that of limp prey in the mouth of a lion as it is carried off to be consumed.

Strangely, we often seem to like being deceived. Sometimes lies and euphemism help to hide uglier realities we would rather not face. It’s as if we say to the flatterers and liars, “Please lie to me. It’s just too much trouble to look at what’s really going on behind the veiled language.”

The text of the oratorio speaks of vain, mysterious art. Something that is vain is ultimately empty on the inside even if on the outside all seems wonderful and in good order.

The phrase mysterious art does not necessarily refer to magic, but to that which is unknown. Some flatterers like to use fancy terms, photos, movies, colorful graphs, and the like to impress us with their knowledge or to mesmerize us so that we dare not question or protest what they say.

However, as the text of the oratorio goes on to say, none of this can really help us. There may be momentary comforts, but soon they are gone. Satan (and to a large degree, the world) promises happiness now, but the bill comes later. In contrast, God often asks for sacrifice, discipline, and perseverance through difficulty up front and then lets us reap the reward later. Indeed, the cross produces glory far beyond the sufferings it brings: For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all (2 Cor 4:17).

The oratorio goes on to teach that our wounded hearts need more than relief; they need healing, which only godlike wisdom from above can accomplis. Why? God Himself tells us why:

The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it? I, the LORD, search the heart, I test the mind (Jer 17:9-10).

To find healing, go to God and to His revealed Word and sacred teachings. He knows your heart because He made you. He knows what will really heal and nourish your heart. Be not deceived and mesmerized by false prophets, hucksters, and merchants of the mediocre; God alone can fill the God-sized space in your heart. Only God, who made us for Himself, can satisfy our longings.

Enjoy the aria!

Promises, Promises – A Parable on the False Promises of This World

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 read, “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.