Last night, I found myself chasing a beautiful moon—driving a little slower, craning my neck between stoplights, then parking my car and literally chasing the moon trying to capture the moment before it slipped away. Its soft glow filled me with awe and wonder, pulling me backward in time, to a tiny nursery painted in the gentlest shade of sky. Above the crib hung a Hey Diddle Diddle print, the cat with the fiddle smiling down while the cow leapt forever over the moon.
Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and anyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”
Yesterday, I was home, recovering from Covid following the doctor’s orders to isolate until tomorrow. I was sad that I was unable to attend mass in person. However, it was the responsible choice as I don’t want to impact others if I’m possibly still contagious. I was loving my neighbor.
In the following scripture, we are reminded of the vanity of laboring, toiling, and acquiring. It is an expression of what life would be like apart from the presence of God. Sorrow, grief, and restlessness would seem to be all there is. It’s a poetic way of expressing the futility and fleeting nature of human pursuits.
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth,/ vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
Here is one who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill, and yet to another who has not labored over it, he must leave property. This also is vanity and a great misfortune. For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart with which he has labored under the sun? All his days sorrow and grief are his occupation; even at night his mind is not at rest. This also is vanity.
The word of the Lord.
Ecclesiastes1:2; 2:21-23
In this context, “vanity” doesn’t mean pride or self-absorption (as in modern usage), but rather emptiness or meaninglessness.
The writer reflects on life’s pursuits—wisdom, pleasure, work, wealth—and concludes that none of them bring lasting fulfillment. It’s a philosophical lament that everything “under the sun” (i.e., earthly life) is temporary and cannot satisfy the soul.
Ecclesiastes isn’t nihilistic—it’s realistic. It urges us to recognize the limits of worldly pursuits and seek meaning through reverence for God and live with humility and gratitude, knowing life is short.
On the other hand, Jesus teaches us to be “rich in what matters to God.” What does matter to God? That we number our days right and grow in wisdom of heart. We do not have to do that on our own, for we receive those graces at baptism, by which we have died and our life is hidden with Christ in God. He asks one thing of us, “Follow Me.”
Life’s richness, then, consists in seeking the One who is above, and claiming the new self that we receive through him, for Christ is all. Our treasure lies in claiming Christ our life, who has appeared.
Let us live for an audience of one, for God today. Amen
Today the Church celebrates the feast of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, a soldier turned saint whose life was transformed by deep introspection and spiritual discernment. As the founder of the Jesuits, Ignatius championed a path of disciplined prayer, service, and intellectual pursuit. But perhaps his most quietly radical contribution was a daily practice called the Examen—a gentle yet powerful way to examine our conscience.
There is nothing like being at our home in the forest that reconnects me with God. Studies show that leaving the city and grounding ourselves in nature can do wonders for our mental health.
Does it bother you that so many people are no longer being fed? We see the need daily on a physical level but what about on the spiritual? Today is the Feast of Corpus Christi, we are invited to meditate on the desire the Lord has to feed His people and the shocking indifference we are to this fact.
“For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” Think about our hearts like a bank vault, a place where you store your most valuable possessions, your treasure. To wake up and be aware of how much value we put on our treasure, both earthly and heavenly, we need to regularly discern what it is we love and what we would do if we lost it.
If wealth was taken away, would we keep our faith in God’s providence? If we lost our health or the health of a loved one, would we continue to hope in God’s goodness? If any of our less tangible earthly treasures (reputation, relationships, social standing) were compromised, would we walk in justice, prudence, fortitude, and temperance as God’s trusting child, forgiving and giving to those who oppose us?
We are presented with a sobering teaching to help us discern if we are on the narrow road that leads to life (cf. Mt 7:13-14). Jesus, the light of the world, leads the way to all treasure, both earthly and heavenly. Can we honestly say we are following Christ through the narrow gate with all our heart? Are we loving with a selfless love always willing the good of the other?
Lord, I lift up my soul it is in you I trust. Make me know your ways, teach me your paths. Guide me by your love and fidelity. Teach me, for you are God my savior. Amen
How well do you know yourself? Can you honestly say you are beautiful and broken? Much of my life I have run away from the broken and shadow parts of myself. I’m learning there are seeds of goodness even in the broken parts of myself. Perfectionism, a shame based facade, makes room for grace to fill the cracks of my life.
Smitten With Goodness 