Material possessions and The Way
The readings for Mass for this coming Sunday (18th Sunday in Ordinary Time) asks us to examine our relationship with material possessions and whether the true source of lasting fulfillment is found in them. Together, the readings paint a complete picture of how we are called to live as followers of Christ in a world obsessed with accumulation and wealth.
The first two chapters of Ecclesiastes open with the haunting refrain: "Vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!" The author, referred to only as “The Preacher,” offers words that cut through our illusions about the permanence of worldly success. He reminds us of the bitter irony that someone may "toil with wisdom and knowledge and skill" only to leave everything to another who "did not toil for it." This isn't a condemnation of honest work, but rather a sobering reminder that our ultimate security cannot rest in what we accumulate.
The sleepless nights spent worrying about possessions, the anxiety that comes with protecting what we've gathered—these are signs that our hearts have become attached to things that are, ultimately, passing away. When we place our hope in material wealth, we set ourselves up for the very "vexation" that Ecclesiastes describes.
Saint Paul's Letter to the Colossians (3:1-5, 9-11) provides the antidote to this spiritual poverty. "Seek the things that are above," he urges us, "where Christ is seated at the right hand of God." This isn't an escape from earthly responsibility, but a reordering of our priorities. When we "set our minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth," we find the peace that comes from knowing our true treasure is secure. St. Paul's call to "put to death" our earthly desires—including greed, which he boldly names as idolatry—challenges us to examine our own hearts. Have our possessions become gods? Do we serve them rather than allowing them to serve God's purposes through us? In Christ, Paul reminds us, there is neither rich nor poor, but all are one in the new creation.
Jesus's parable in the Gospel of Luke (12:13-21) of the rich fool brings these themes into sharp focus through a story both timeless and urgently contemporary. The man's fields produce abundantly—a blessing that could have been shared with those in need. Instead, he sees only an opportunity for greater security and self-indulgence: "You have so many good things stored up for many years,
rest, eat, drink, be merry!” God's response is swift and sobering: "You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?" The man's fundamental error wasn't his prosperity, but his failure to recognize that his life—and everything in it—belonged ultimately to God. Jesus concludes with the piercing question that should echo in every heart: "Thus will it be for all who store up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.” The contrast is stark. We can choose to be rich in the world's eyes but poor before God, or we can choose true wealth—the riches of grace, generosity, and relationship with God.
These readings call us to a distinctly Catholic understanding of material possessions. We are not called to poverty for its own sake, nor to despise the good things of creation. Rather, we are invited to hold all things lightly, as stewards rather than owners, as servants of the common good rather than slaves to our own comfort. This means using our resources—whatever they may be—to build up the Kingdom of God. It means generous giving to those in need, simple living that doesn't strain after unnecessary luxuries, and a deep trust that God will provide what we truly need. Most importantly, it means cultivating a heart that finds its joy not in what we possess, but in our relationship with Christ and service to others.
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