"You're So Vain"

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In Episode III of "Star Wars" (the sixth movie made), there is a scene where the Jedi Council informs Anakin that, at the request of Chancellor Palpatine, Anakin will become a member of the Jedi Council, though he will not be given the rank of Jedi Master.  Anakin bristles at not being given this honor.  He says, “How can you do this?  This is outrageous.  It’s unfair.  How can you be on the Council and not be a Master?”  He quickly asks forgiveness for his outburst, and the Jedi Council meeting continues.  Anakin had strength and power very few Jedi had, and was the youngest member of the Jedi Council, but because of his pride, he could not simply accept the great honor before him, but saw what he considered as a lack of respect and a slight against how advanced he was.
    Christ in the Gospel today warns against seeking after honor and prestige.  He puts it in very pragmatic terms, putting his words into the more palatable meal of allowing others to elevate one.  But, the danger of pride to think oneself the best is something Christ warns us we need to guard against, lest humiliation do the job of keeping our ego in check by showing us who is better than us.  As Qui-Gon Jinn says in Episode I of Star Wars (the fourth movie made), "There’s always a bigger fish.”
    The sin of pride, or perhaps more specifically vainglory, leads us to seek after fleeting realities, rather than focusing on our final end, which is God.  St. Thomas Aquinas teaches in question 132 of the Secunda secundae of the Summa Theologiae that seeking glory means seeking that whereby good is known.  And to know that one has done good is not a sin.  But seeking glory for good can be sinful in three ways: 1) “on the part of the thing for which one seeks glory: as when a man seeks glory for that which is unworthy of glory, for instance…something frail and perishable”; 2) “on the part of him from whom he seeks glory, for instance a man whose judgment is uncertain”; and 3) “on the part of the man himself who seeks glory, for that he does not refer the desire of his own glory to a due end, such as God’s honor, or the spiritual welfare of his neighbor”.  When does something worthy of praise, it is not wrong to want or accept recognition for that good thing.  But if we seek out praise for some minor good, or seek out praise from someone whose opinion doesn’t matter, or fail to recognize that the thing for which we are praised is for God or for our neighbor, then we have fallen into the sin of vainglory, which St. Thomas numbers among the capital vices.
    Vainglory arises when we miss the things that should drive us on to excellence, and focus too much on things that don’t, in the end, matter.  When I am intent on doing God’s will, I can accept praise from others because I know that the praise really redounds to God’s goodness.  My ego doesn’t need stroking because the good I do finds its end in God and in what God desires, namely, my salvation and the salvation of others.  But when I put fleeting things ahead of God and direct my energies to things not directed towards God, then I get unsettled when excellence is not recognized because the glory can be as fleeting as the end to which I direct myself, and then I am left with nothing, because I have not rooted myself in the eternal, God, but have rooted myself in the finite.
    The Angelic Doctor cites Pope St. Gregory the Great in saying that there are seven daughters, or vices directed to a capital vice, that demonstrate the activity of vainglory in our life.  St. Thomas Aquinas writes:
 

Now the end of vainglory is the manifestation of one’s own excellence…and to this end a man may tend in two ways….either by words and this is boasting [the first daughter], or by deeds, and then if they be true and call for astonishment, it is love of novelties [the second] which men are wont to wonder at most; but if they be false, it is hypocrisy [the third].  On another way a man strives to make known his excellence by showing that he is not inferior to another, and this in four ways.  First, as regards the intellect, and thus we have “obstinacy” [the fourth] by which a man is too much attached to his own opinion….Secondly, as regards the will, and then we have “discord,” [the fifth] whereby a man is unwilling to give up his own will, and agree with others.  Thirdly, as regards “speech,” and then we have “contention,” [the sixth] whereby a man quarrels noisily with another.  Fourthly as regards deeds, and this is “disobedience,” [the seventh] whereby a man refuses to carry out the command of his superiors.

To recap, the daughters of vainglory are: boasting, love of novelties, hypocrisy, obstinacy, discord, contention, and disobedience.  As we see any of these in our lives, we are guilty of acts that lead toward vainglory.
    We do not go wrong simply because we seek to be the best and do great things.  We don’t even go wrong when we want true goods to be appreciated.  But when we seek after lesser goods, or goods not directed toward God and salvation of ourselves and/or others, we can fall into the vice of vainglory and start seeking the highest place of honor, even when we don’t deserve it.  Rather, we should seek to excel because it gives helps others and gives glory to God, the giver of every good gift and source of all glory, which is due back, in the end, to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

A Bag of Chips

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

            It seems like every time I open a bag of chips, there is more and more air, and fewer and fewer chips.  The bag always looks good from the outside: full of shape, sometimes with a little window at the bottom, enticing you as to how many chips are in there, feeling full as you take it in your hands and pull it off the shelf.  And then you open it up, and it’s like someone just popped your balloon, which is a pretty fitting metaphor, seeing as how as soon as you open it up, all the air goes out of the inflated bag.  I have to imagine that I am not the only one who is disappointed at how little actual food is in a bag of chips.

            Today’s Gospel is all about the right attitude of prayer.  On the one hand we have the Pharisee who is full of himself and basically spends all his time reminding God how great he is.  On the other hand we have the tax collector, who is so ashamed of himself that he won’t even approach the front of the temple, and won’t even raise his eyes to heaven.  Instead, he simply asks for the mercy of God, not because of any merit of his own, but simply out of God’s goodness. 

            The Pharisee is like a bag of chips.  It looks good from the outside, but on the inside it’s nothing but hot air.  The Pharisee is so full of himself that there’s almost no room for anything substantial.  He is so full of himself, that there is no room for God, which is why the tax collector goes home justified, that is, put into a right relationship with God, and not the Pharisee.  The tax collector knew he only had a little, and could do a much better job with what he did have.  So he begs God to fill him up.  God wanted to fill up the Pharisee with His grace, but there was no room.

            How often are we more air than substance?  The sin of pride, of vainglory, can be so tempting.  We think we know it all.  We think we’re all good with God.  But the reality is that often we are simply full of ourselves.  Our culture certainly wants us to be sure of ourselves.  To admit that you need something or someone is a weakness, and should not be tolerated.  But when we are full of ourselves, we have no room for God to fill us up.  God loves us enough and respects our free will, such that He will not force Himself on us.  If we think we can do it ourselves and don’t need Him, He’s not going to try to cram more chips into a bag that’s already filled with air.

            The temptation to be full of ourselves is particularly dangerous in an academic, affluent community like ours.  We have professors who are at the top of their field.  We have coaches who are among the best in the nation.  We have CEOs and CFOs and leaders of industry who are used to being in control and having all the answers.  And certainly, just because you are the best or at the top of what you do doesn’t make you the Pharisee.  But it does mean that the temptation to think and act like the Pharisee from today’s Gospel is always there.  When we’re the best at what we do, the temptation that Satan likes to entice us with is to think that we have it all together, that we know best in everything, and that we are self-sufficient.  And the Evil One tries to convince us of the greatness of ourselves so that we don’t make room for God to fill us up.

            But when we recognize just how poor we are without Jesus, that we cannot do it on our own, then we let out the air, and allow for more chips to be poured into our bag.  When we recognize that we may be the best in our field, but that there is more to life than an academic discipline, a sport, or a company, then we allow God to work in us and to make sure we are not simply rich and content in the eyes of the world, but that we are rich in what truly matters to God.  If we want to compete well, to finish the race, to keep the faith, as St. Paul says in our second reading, so that we can receive the crown of righteousness, then we have to open our hands to receive from another, which means that we don’t have it all under control and we can’t provide it all for ourselves.

            When we pour ourselves out like a libation, like a liquid sacrifice, we don’t lose anything that we truly need, because we rely on God to keep us full.  May we not be like the bags of chips you find at a grocery or convenience store, full of nothing substantial, but may we recognize how much we need God, and let Him fill us up, not with the hot air of an over-inflated ego, but with His grace and love which put us in a right relationship with God, and prepare us for the crown that God wants to place on our head, the crown of righteousness in the Kingdom of Heaven.