18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
When I was in graduate school in the 1980s there was a lot of hype about an exciting new field for empirical research in economics: the Economics of Happiness. And, in fact, there were some interesting findings that have held up pretty well over the last few decades, including:
Among adults around the world, on average happiness tends to follow a U-shaped curve. We are happy in our twenties and early thirties, somewhat more miserable in our middle years and then, interestingly, most of us find that happiness increases as we move into the latter third of our lives-or the “third trimester” as my wife and her ob-gyn friends like to call it.
Being economists, of course, a major concern has been to try and attach a value to the things that make us happy. A good marriage has been found to yield more happiness than an additional $100,000 per year in income. Good health is worth nearly $500,000.
But, for all the excitement, today’s readings suggest that thinking about the economics of happiness is not particularly new. The Teacher of our first reading, writing some 25 centuries ago, is disheartened by the knowledge that all of the material things for which we “toil under the sun” will be left to others who did not toil for them and “who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?” Vanity of vanities…
In today’s gospel reading Jesus does something that is a bit out of character. He casually dismisses the request of someone in the crowd who asks for his help in getting their proper share of the family inheritance. “Who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” Contrast this with the immediate and compassionate response Jesus gives to the sick who are brought to him throughout Luke’s gospel.
He then warns the crowd, and us about the dangers of placing too much emphasis on our material wealth and not enough on being rich in God’s service. The barns and the bins might be full to overflowing, but if there is no equivalent store of wealth in God’s kingdom then the rich man has been a fool.
Today, Jesus reminds us that our true wealth is not measured by how well our retirement accounts are doing, but by how deeply we are committed to living lives that are filled with kindness and generosity in responding to the needs of others.
This is a lesson that is appropriate not only for us as individuals, but for nations as well. In the past few weeks there has been a lot of discussion in the news about economic recession: is one coming, if so, when? Is it possible that it is already here? And, of course, how will economic conditions affect the upcoming elections.
The problem is that such discussions are usually limited to what Jesus in today’s gospel might refer to as the “fullness of our bins and barns.” Seldom do we consider the overall effects of
economic growth or contraction. Who is reaping the benefits? And, who are the people being left or even pushed out? What are the environmental consequences of unchecked growth and the long-term effects on the ability of our planet to support life?
Periods of economic and social disruption should become times where we reconsider the wisdom of policies that lead to the production of wealth but fail to distribute it widely, especially to those most in need. They should spur us to seriously consider alternatives to the ways in which we produce and consume energy, grow and distribute food, provide healthcare and manage our collective finances.
Focusing solely on GDP, the aggregate value of all transactions in an economy places us precisely in the same place as the rich fool Jesus presents to us in today’s parable.
In a speech given two months before his assasination 55 years ago, Robert F Kennedy put it succinctly:
“Our gross national product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors, and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwoods, and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm, nuclear warheads, and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country. It measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.”
In response to this speech, the Jesus of today’s Gospel would clearly say, “A
Homily for July 31, 2022
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
When I was in graduate school in the 1980s there was a lot of hype about an exciting new field for empirical research in economics: the Economics of Happiness. And, in fact, there were some interesting findings that have held up pretty well over the last few decades, including:
Among adults around the world, on average happiness tends to follow a U-shaped curve. We are happy in our twenties and early thirties, somewhat more miserable in our middle years and then, interestingly, most of us find that happiness increases as we move into the latter third of our lives-or the “third trimester” as my wife and her ob-gyn friends like to call it.
Being economists, of course, a major concern has been to try and attach a value to the things that make us happy. A good marriage has been found to yield more happiness than an additional $100,000 per year in income. Good health is worth nearly $500,000.
But, for all the excitement, today’s readings suggest that thinking about the economics of happiness is not particularly new. The Teacher of our first reading, writing some 25 centuries ago, is disheartened by the knowledge that all of the material things for which we “toil under the sun” will be left to others who did not toil for them and “who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?” Vanity of vanities…
In today’s gospel reading Jesus does something that is a bit out of character. He casually dismisses the request of someone in the crowd who asks for his help in getting their proper share of the family inheritance. “Who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” Contrast this with the immediate and compassionate response Jesus gives to the sick who are brought to him throughout Luke’s gospel.
He then warns the crowd, and us about the dangers of placing too much emphasis on our material wealth and not enough on being rich in God’s service. The barns and the bins might be full to overflowing, but if there is no equivalent store of wealth in God’s kingdom then the rich man has been a fool.
Today, Jesus reminds us that our true wealth is not measured by how well our retirement accounts are doing, but by how deeply we are committed to living lives that are filled with kindness and generosity in responding to the needs of others.
This is a lesson that is appropriate not only for us as individuals, but for nations as well. In the past few weeks there has been a lot of discussion in the news about economic recession: is one coming, if so, when? Is it possible that it is already here? And, of course, how will economic conditions affect the upcoming elections.
The problem is that such discussions are usually limited to what Jesus in today’s gospel might refer to as the “fullness of our bins and barns.” Seldom do we consider the overall effects of
economic growth or contraction. Who is reaping the benefits? And, who are the people being left or even pushed out? What are the environmental consequences of unchecked growth and the long-term effects on the ability of our planet to support life?
Periods of economic and social disruption should become times where we reconsider the wisdom of policies that lead to the production of wealth but fail to distribute it widely, especially to those most in need. They should spur us to seriously consider alternatives to the ways in which we produce and consume energy, grow and distribute food, provide healthcare and manage our collective finances.
Focusing solely on GDP, the aggregate value of all transactions in an economy places us precisely in the same place as the rich fool Jesus presents to us in today’s parable.
In a speech given two months before his assasination 55 years ago, Robert F Kennedy put it succinctly:
“Our gross national product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors, and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwoods, and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm, nuclear warheads, and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country. It measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile.”
In response to this speech, the Jesus of today’s Gospel would clearly say, “Amen.”