The summer I finished high school, I helped organize a barbeque for about 40 classmates. It was a highlight of my high school experience because of the friendships and fun.  It was so good we organized another at the end of August.  But that one wasn’t as good.  Every subsequent event never recaptured the happiness of the first, and I remember wondering: Why can’t we reproduce the same level of fun?

The experience of gaining and then losing happiness happens to all of us: We find joy in a friendship but the friendship doesn’t last; we buy something we want then get tired of it; a lot of us in our 40s and 50s have achieved what we want in our careers but feel restless.

Today, we’re meditating on the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes: a short book (12 chapters long) written two to three hundred years before Jesus.  The protagonist is called the Teacher, whose mission was to understand wisdom and foolishness.  His most famous line is the beginning of our First Reading: “Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, vanity of vanities!  All is vanity” (Eccl 1:2).  ‘Vanity’ here refers to anything that is ultimately useless: E.g. We take care of our health but eventually lose it—so, what’s the point?

It also refers to wanting justice and not getting it: “Sometimes one who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave all to be enjoyed by another who did not toil for it.  This also is vanity and a great evil” (2:21).  Any of us who have been involved in a lawsuit or some kind of litigation know how unfair life can be.

Now, if you’re wondering why we’re focusing on the negative, it’s because that’s what Ecclesiastes does: It’s trying to understand the pain of life.  So, if you’re happy right now, I want you to feel a bit sadder.  And, if you’re normally sad during the homily, stay the way you are.

The Teacher asks, “What does a person get from all their toil and strain, their toil under the sun?  For their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their mind does not rest.  This also is vanity” (2:22-23).  He’s doing a thought experiment: If there’s really no God, what’s the point of it all?

Archbishop Sheen once gave this thought experiment: Suppose you have a young man who wants to be a doctor.  You ask, ‘What do you want to do after you become a doctor?’  ‘I want to marry and raise children.’  ‘And then?’  ‘Be happy and make money.’  ‘And then?’  ‘Give money to my children.’  ‘And then?’  There comes a last ‘And then?’  The person with an ultimate purpose will know what the last ‘and then’ is, and that person will be satisfied (Your Life is Worth Living, 5).

This brings us to Jesus.  We can only truly appreciate Who Jesus is, His love, and His plan for us once we accept how painful and disappointing life can be.  In today’s Gospel, “someone in the crowd said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.’  But Jesus said to him, ‘Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?’” (Lk 12:13-14).  Jesus perceives that the man isn’t searching for what’s fair; he’s searching for what’s vain.  Because Jesus loves him, He redirects him to what lasts: “Take care!  Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (12:15).

He then gives the Parable of the Rich Fool: a man has so much stuff that he hoards and protects it but has no idea what the final goal is; he invests his time and energy into things that don’t last.  And “‘God said to him, “You fool!  This very night your life is being demanded of you.  And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”  So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God’” (12:20-21).  When we focus on earthly achievements ‘but are not rich toward God,’ we lose everything.  Without a relationship with God, nothing has ultimate meaning.

Think about it this way: How would our parents feel if we said, ‘Mom, Dad, we have good jobs, donate money, and don’t hurt anyone.  We know you love us, but we’ve got more important things in life.’  How would our parents feel?  They would say, ‘Those things are good but don’t mean anything to us.  We love you, but you don’t care about us.’  For those of us who are parents, we want our children to do what is morally good, but, above all, we want them to love us in return.

You know how people say, ‘I’m a good person, I deserve to go to heaven’?  Without loving God the Father, we can’t be in heaven, because heaven is not about being somewhere but being with Someone.  God wants us to do what is moral, but first He wants our love.  This is why He sent His only begotten Son to bring us home.  When we respond to His love, then everything has meaning.  When I work hard in my career out of love for Jesus, even if it doesn’t last, it has meaning; if life is unfair but I’m just for Jesus’ sake, then it has meaning.

I was never able to reproduce the fun of the summer barbeque because fun without God can only give so much happiness.  But with God, sports, friendships, anything simple can have meaning—they’re all ways of loving Him, and that’s the last ‘and then.’

I mentioned once before Jacques and Raissa Maritain, how they had searched for meaning at the University of Paris, but found only empty philosophies and the inexplicable reality of suffering.

So, they made a pact: Within one year, if they found no meaning, they would commit suicide.  However, thanks to Jesus, they started attending lectures by Catholic philosophers and became Catholic in 1906.  One biography about them is entitled Beggars for Heaven.  On one hand, they wrote books, were friends to famous people, and influenced the United Nations.  On the other hand, they are beggars like the rest of us.  What makes them special is not their earthly accomplishments, which fades, but their love for Jesus, which helped lead 50 people to Him.  This is why they’re on the path towards sainthood.

The last chapter of Ecclesiastes talks about youth and old age.  Jacques and Raissa were beautiful in their youth, and beauty is a good thing!  Yet physical beauty doesn’t last.  The fact that we still want to be beautiful even when we lose our physical beauty points to a deeper beauty: We’re meant to be beautiful in Jesus’ eyes.

Keep on enjoying the Sabbath Summer.  Rest in God.  Love Him, and avoid sin.  Little things done out of love for Jesus are investments in eternal happiness.