Today’s gospel at Mass [Luke 10:1-12] has some important and familiar words:
The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.
These words are familiar because we are the laborers; the church is missionary by nature. Just as Jesus sent the disciples out on mission in the gospel, each day the Lord sends us out into the mission territories of our families, schools, workplaces, etc. Jesus’ words are important because this mission to build the kingdom of God, the kingdom of justice, love, and peace, is more urgent than ever. Watch the news and you will see the urgency of our mission.

As missionaries, Jesus’ instruction in the gospel:
Stay in the same house and eat and drink what is offered to you, for the laborer deserves his payment. Do not move about from one house to another.
Might be interpreted that we are called to have a docile spirit as missionaries. The docility comes from us recognizing that we are children of God and dependent on the one who sends us out on mission. Bishop Robert Barron in his daily reflection on the gospel and St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus whom we celebrate today said this:
God, Thérèse concluded, is pleased to work with those who have become utterly docile to his direction, who have acknowledged their total dependence upon him, their readiness to receive gifts. Any sense that God’s love must be earned or that a relationship with him is a product of economic calculation is repugnant to a healthy spirituality: “Jesus does not demand great actions from us but simply surrender and gratitude.”


Part of our mission is to be missionaries of mercy. In our judgment-filled world where people are discarded for saying the wrong thing, mercy is greatly needed.  Pope Francis in his declaration for the year of mercy stated:
Her life is authentic and credible only when she becomes a convincing herald of mercy….The Church is called above all to be a credible witness to mercy, professing it and living it as the core of the revelation of Jesus Christ.
Think of all the times that Jesus showed mercy to those who were despised or discounted by society. What about the good thief crucified with Jesus who was told today you will be with me paradise. Is there anything mor merciful than that!!

In the first reading at Mass [Job 19:21-27], Job’s friends have been instructing him that some sort of sin has been the cause of his misfortune and therefore he should acknowledge his offense. Yet Job thinks that he is innocent. Job asks his friends for some compassion rather that judgment:
Pity me, pity me, O you my friends, for the hand of God has struck me! Why do you hound me as though you were divine, and insatiably prey upon me?
Job’s plea reminds us of the importance of mercy as we act as missionaries, or ambassadors, for Christ.

When we act as missionaries of mercy, we bring the face of Christ to those who we serve. Another author spoke about St. Thérèse  as manifesting the face of Jesus by the love that she exhibited:
(an author) describes a group of students looking at an untouched photo of Therese that moved one of them say, “This is the face of the female Christ.”  Isn't this what a saint does? Like a missionary, Therese of Lisieux has evangelized many people by introducing them to Jesus. Like the disciples sent ahead to places Jesus intended to visit, Therese's influence has prepared many to welcome him into their lives. 
Part of our mission is also to bring the peace of Christ to others. As Jesus states in the gospel at Mass:
Into whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this household.' If a peaceful person  lives there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you.

To bring Christ’s peace to others, His peace must also fill our hearts or else we will not be instruments of Christ’s peace. By bringing hope to those who are struggling, suffering, lost, depressed, etc. we can bring peace to their weary souls. Job expresses this hope in the first reading at Mass:
But as for me, I know that my Vindicator lives, and that he will at last stand forth upon the dust; Whom I myself shall see: my own eyes, not another’s, shall behold him, And from my flesh I shall see God; my inmost being is consumed with longing.
 

As they were proceeding on their journey someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." Jesus answered him, "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head." And to another he said, "Follow me." But he replied, "(Lord,) let me go first and bury my father." But he answered him, "Let the dead bury their dead.  But you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." And another said, "I will follow you, Lord, but first let me say farewell to my family at home." (To him) Jesus said, "No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks  to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God." [Luke 9:57-62]

Today’s gospel at Mass is a difficult one, partly from the perspective of the meaning of Jesus’ statements and secondly the requirements for us as disciples. It is important to know that Jesus has just resolutely set his path towards Jerusalem where he will suffer, die and rise. If we want to be a disciple, Jesus’ destiny will be ours also. Jesus admonitions to those who want to be a disciple begins by reminding us that discipleship will have difficulties. This is as true today as it was in Jesus’ day. If you are following the political world and the debate about the new supreme court nominee, you have probably read comments from public officials that, for Catholics, belonging to groups like the Knights of Columbus means that that person is dangerous. Or if we allow our Catholic beliefs to guide us that somehow we are out of the mainstream of public opinion. For instance, the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith recently issued a lengthy document about caring for those who are dying. In that document the authors state that assisted suicide and euthanasia are unacceptable. To some public officials, I guess that the compassionate care for the dying rather than judging them useless and eliminating them is somehow a radical position of Catholic orthodoxy. But read what the authors wrote in part of their document about a disciple being called to act like the good Samaritan. It doesn’t sound radical to me. It sounds more like love incarnated.
The Good Samaritan, in fact, “not only draws nearer to the man he finds half dead; he takes responsibility for him”^] He invests in him, not only with the funds he has on hand but also with funds he does not have and hopes to earn in Jericho: he promises to pay any additional costs upon his return. Likewise Christ invites us to trust in his invisible grace that prompts us to the generosity of supernatural charity, as we identify with everyone who is ill: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me” (Mt 25:40). This affirmation expresses a moral truth of universal scope: “we need then to ‘show care’ for all life and for the life of everyone”^] and thus to reveal the original and unconditional love of God, the source of the meaning of all life.

Jesus’ instructions about discipleship remind us that sacrifices will be required. We are reminded of this fact every time we attend Mass. We make Jesus’ sacrifice of the cross sacramentally present and hear Jesus’ tell us to do this in memory of me. Yet a commitment to sacrifice -for instance putting the needs of others ahead of our world – is direct opposition to a world focused on pleasure and comfort. Yet as Jesus reminds us that the greatest in the kingdom of heaven is the one who serves rather than the one who is served.

Finally Jesus reminds us that discipleship requires commitment. Commitment is becoming a greater and greater challenge in our world. Young people are afraid to make the commitment of marriage and prefer just living together. Most organizations are experiencing a decline in membership due to a lack of commitment by people. The same is true for churches. Sunday Mass attendance for Catholics has been declining for many decades; about 25-30% of Catholics keep the 3^rd commandment and attend Mass weekly. Jesus’ reminds us that once we begin to follow him, there is no turning around. Make one’s mind up. Be a disciple or not. Once the decision is made, don’t look back. Just keep moving forward and following Christ.
 

Today we celebrate the archangels, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. The fascination which the angels that occurred several years ago has declined. But the importance of the archangels and angels has not. Their role is that within the story of salvation. The Book of Revelation reading from Mass today [Revelation 12:7-12ab] highlights the struggle, the battle, and the victory:
War broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels battled against the dragon. The dragon and its angels fought back, but they did not prevail and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. The huge dragon, the ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, who deceived the whole world, was thrown down to earth, and its angels were thrown down with it. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: “Now have salvation and power come, and the Kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed. For the accuser of our brothers is cast out, who accuses them before our God day and night. They conquered him by the Blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; love for life did not deter them from death. Therefore, rejoice, you heavens, and you who dwell in them.”
 
Gabriel is often closely associated with the story of salvation, as this archangel plays in a prominent role in the Annunciation when Mary consented to the birth of the Messiah. Raphael shows up in the Book of Tobit, one of the “Catholic” books of the bible. Raphael acts as a spiritual guide for Tobias who is on a journey to Medina. Michael is probably the most commonly known of the archangels. Many recite the prayer to Michael; he acts as a defender of the faithful. I like to call on Michael during temptations. He uses his sword, as I like to think, to keep the evil one at bay.

The reading from Revelation also mentions our part in the story of salvation:
For the accuser of our brothers is cast out, who accuses them before our God day and night. They conquered him by the Blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; love for life did not deter them from death. Therefore, rejoice, you heavens, and you who dwell in them.”


We are to act as witness to the Lamb, who is Christ. With our words and our lives, we are missioned to explain to others why Christ is important to us. With our words, we are called to proclaim Christ’s Kingdom. His Kingdom is what people really desire for our world, as it is a kingdom of justice, love, and peace. Think of the number of protests in the last few months where some of the protestors held signs up about the need for justice. True justice is found in the Kingdom of God, where God rules power and directly in the lives of everyone.

Our life example is also critical in the story of salvation and its ultimate victory. As Pope Francis said, as redeemed people, we don’t need to be “sourpusses.’ Let’s look redeemed! For instance, with all of the discouragement and protests occurring in our pandemic-filled world, how can we be signs of hope? Our God is with us. God provides us with the angels and archangels; with the Holy Spirit; and with Emmanuel; God is with us in order to conquer overwhelming the struggles that we face.

Victory in this battle against evil, sin, and satan requires, also, our self-denial. It is the first requirement of a disciple:
If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. [Luke 9:23]

As disciples our lives are not our own. We belong to Christ; He is our Lord. Our self-denial is a daily decision to act like Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane when he responded not my will but yours be done in his prayer to his heavenly Father.
 

I have been reading a book by the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration titled Eucharistic Adoration: Reflections in the Franciscan Tradition. I share with you one of the sister’s reflections on peace. In our world filled with turmoil and uncertainty, how do we live as instruments of God’s peace? As one saying goes, if we find peace in ourselves and live with that peace, thousands of others will be impacted by our peace.

“I beg you to show the greatest possible reverence and honor for the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things, whether on the earth or in the heavens, have been brought to peace and reconciled with the Almighty God. [Francis of Assisi, “letter to a General Chapter,” Omnibus, p. 104]

Our world yearns for peace. Yet terror, violence, and broken relationships seem to be in the very air we breathe. This toxic air seems to poison our deepest spirits s we open our ourselves to receive peace.

Francis, too, experienced the allurement of war. But in the midst of its seeming glory, God ‘stopped him short’ – not in a clear voice but in pain, disillusionment, and fear. To Francis’ surprise it was in this very confusion that he heard the voice of God in new questions that he wrestled with.

We, too, wrestle in our desire for peace. In the utter confusion we experience around us, it is easy to place the burden of reconciliation and peacemaking in the hands of others. But deep within we know that true peace can emerge only as each one of us reconciles his or her broken relationships. We, like Francs, are invited to enter the depths of our inner being and find there the Real Presence of Divine Good, the source of peace. In this Real Presence we find our courage to be reconciled.

Let us pray: Spirit of the living God, as I breath in your presence, I open myself to my deep yearning for peace. Fill me with gratitude for the peace that already is your gift. Give me the courage to probe the crevices of my heart that are cluttered with the residue of resentment, anger, and judgments that block me from more fully receiving your gift of peace. Strengthen my desire to surrender these blocks to your healing mercy so that I may be peace today. Amen.

Look for ways to spread the peace of Christ to others today.

Yesterday I spoke about the idea of “kenosis,” Jesus’ self-emptying love, which Saint Paul speaks about in the second reading at Mass, Philippians 2:1-11. That early Christian hymn also speaks of Jesus’ humility. In the book, A Heart Like His, Thomas Williams describes Jesus’ humble heart. In Matthew 11:28-20, Jesus states:
Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened,  and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light."
I share with you the author’s words about Jesus’ humble heart.

Reading through the Gospel, we see that Jesus never put on airs. He didn’t care what other people thought of him. He didn’t crave others’ attention, or worry about impressing them. He always spoke the truth but he didn’t spend time arguing with people out of a need to have to be right. He just went about doing good and fulfilling the mission he was sent to carry out. In fact, it seems that Jesus didn’t spend much time thinking about himself at all. He was always either praying or teaching or helping others or healing. And he did so as a gift to others with no strings attached.
 
To say that Jesus was “meek: and “humble’ certainly doesn’t mean he was a wimp or a milksop. If anyone had a strong character, he did. He was a true leader, with clear ideals and convictions and an iron will. Yet at the same time he had time for the ‘little people,” for beggars, poor people, children, prostitutes and tax men. He never acted superior to the people he was with but listened to their problems and came to their assistance. He knew that he was “Lord” and yet he never “lorded” it over anyone. Even when performing his miracles, we never see Jesus with a “look at me” attitude. He calls his miracles “signs” – signs that he is who he says he is, so that people will listen to his message of salvation. In fact, when the people are so overwhelmed by Jesus’ multiplication of loaves that they want to carry him off to make him king, he quietly slips away to pray (John 6:15). He isn’t after their accolades. All he wants is to show them the path to salvation.
 
The same humility that Jesus shows toward other people we see in his interactions with God, his Father. He seems averse to taking credit for anything, and refers everything back to the Father. Jesus once said to his apostles that when they had done everything they were supposed to do, they should say, “We are useless servants. We have done no more than our duty” (Luke 17:10). That’s exactly what Jesus does. In similar fashion, Jesus doesn’t profess to be “original” or “innovative” but says that all his teaching comes from what he learned from the Father (John 7:16). In a world where people scramble to claim credit for everything they do, Jesus provides a refreshing example of disinterested service.
 
Let us pray that we will have a mind and a heart like Jesus:
 
Lord, help me to be honest with myself, and honest with you. There are so many things in my heart that need repairing if I am to be like you. I really do want other people to see you in me, and I know that in order for that to happen I must forget about myself. I must become more humble. I really do want to grow to be more like you, Jesus. How beautiful it would be if the one thing I could be known for is my resemblance to you!
 
Help me to love humility, Lord. Let me not fear humiliations, since I know how much you love me and that should be enough. All I have is what you have give me, so what is there for me to be vain about? Rather, let me be grateful for my gifts and put them all at the disposal of others and of your kingdom.
 
Use my intelligence, my health, my communications skills, my sense of humor, my strength, my special talents, and ever my weaknesses and faults to bring others to you. Help me not to be harsh or off-putting with others; you never were. Let people find in me – as they found in you – an open heart, a welcoming smile, and a listening ear.
 

This weekend at Mass we will read the beautiful early Christian hymn from Saint Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
Have in you the same attitude that is also in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

The hymn sings of Christ’s humility in his incarnation, his servanthood, and his death on the cross. “Kenosis” is another word that describes Christ’s actions. What does this unfamiliar word “kenosis” mean? Kenosis is self-emptying, the art of opening oneself outward from within. Love is the result of kenosis. Love is the action of God within the soul of the emptied person. Kenosis and love lead the self-emptied person to the works of God’s justice. For Christ, his kenosis was in his abnegation of the kind of pride, anger, violence, or self-loathing that would take him from the path of Divine love and from the path to His Father. If Christ emptied himself of anything, it was of the temptation to separate himself from the will of his merciful Parent.

Fr. Roland Rolheiser had an interesting column about the kenosis is God. Let me share his reflection with you in order to prepare you for Mass this weekend.

Last year, in a presentation at a symposium on “Being Missionaries to our own Children”, Michael Downey posed this question: How do we speak of God inside a culture that’s pathologically distracted, distrusts religious language and church institutions, and yet carries its own moral energy and virtue?

That’s a key question today, when so many of our own children, siblings, and friends no longer go to church and are challenging our religious beliefs. They certainly fit Downey’s description: Distracted, distrustful of religious language and church institutions, yet carrying a lot of moral energy in their own way. Where do we go with that?

Downey’s answer? Among other things, he suggests that we need an image of God and of Jesus that can show what God does in these situations. What image of Jesus might be helpful here?
There are, as we know, many images of Christ, both in scripture and in our church traditions. Christ is presented variously as “shepherd”, “king”, “teacher”, “miracle-worker”, “healer”, “bread of life”, “sacrificial lamb”, “lover”, among other things. Different ages have tended, for their own reasons, to pick up more on one of these than the others. What might be a fruitful image of Christ for our culture, one within which so many of our own children no longer walk the path of explicit faith with us?

Downey’s suggestion: The image of Christ as the kenosis of God; Jesus as divine self-abandonment; God as emptying himself in the incarnation. What does this mean?
Scripture tells us that, in Christ, God offers a love so pure, so self- effacing, so understanding of our weaknesses, so self-sacrificing, so “self-emptying”, that it’s offered without any demand, however veiled, that it be recognized, met, and reciprocated in kind. In the incarnation, God, like a good mother or father, is more concerned that his children are steered in the right direction than that he, himself, be explicitly recognized and acknowledged for who he is and thanked for it. God, like any parent, takes a huge risk in having children. To have children is to leave yourself painfully vulnerable. It’s also to be called upon for an understanding, a patience, and a self-dethroning that, literally, can empty you of self. That’s as true of God as of any mother or father.
What are the qualities of this “self-emptying”?

To “self-empty” in the way Jesus is described as doing means being present without demanding that your presence be recognized and its importance acknowledged; it means giving without demanding that your generosity be reciprocated; it means being invitational rather than threatening, healthily solicitous rather than nagging or coercive; it means being vulnerable and helpless, unable to protect yourself against the pain of being taken for granted or rejected; it means living in a great patience that doesn’t demand intervention, divine or human, when things don’t unfold according to your will; it means letting God be God and others be themselves without either having to submit to your wishes or your timetable. Not an easy thing at all, that’s why we’ve sung Jesus’ praises for two thousand years for doing it, but that’s the invitation.

We need a theology of God and an image of Christ that can give us a horizon and some hope as we struggle to be missionaries in the toughest mission field of all today, our own culture with its own innate virtue and its own innate inattentiveness to God and church. Downey’s suggestion that we take as our horizon God’s “self-emptying” in Jesus is, I believe, a very good one. Properly understood, that image can show us where and how to stand in faith inside a culture that likes to think it has outgrown faith.

 

The first reading at Mass from the Book of Ecclesiastes [3:1-11] can be somewhat disheartening. It begins by reminding us that all time belongs to God:
There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every thing under the heavens. A time to be born, and a time to die;

If God controls the most important reality in the world … TIME, “why bother” might be a human reaction. While that might be a possible reaction, there are others. For instance, when the Paschal candle is prepared at the Easter vigil, these words are recited:
Christ, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega, all time belongs to him, and all ages. To him be glory and power through every age.
Yes, God controls all time. But God has revealed Himself as a God of love and not a God of retribution, anger, or vengeance. For instance, in the gospel at Mass [Luke 9:18-22] Jesus will ask the disciples about their understanding of his identity. Peter will respond that Jesus is the Christ of God. Jesus will then state that he is the messiah who will suffer, die, and rise for us. His Paschal Mystery will open the doors of eternity for us. We can start experiencing eternal life – or the timelessness – in our relationship with Christ and through him with the Father.

Instead of being discouraged by the words from Ecclesiastes, as Christians, we need to find hope and a sense of mission. Let me share with you some parts of Pope Benedict’s encyclical on hope, Spe et salvi.

Knowing to the depth of our being that God is a God of love is essential if we are going to live in hope. Let that truth sink in about the connection between hope and our knowledge of God’s love. This knowledge is what it means to be redeemed as Pope Benedict states. “Being redeemed,” therefore, requires “heart knowledge” and not just “head knowledge”:
The human being needs unconditional love. He needs the certainty which makes him say: “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:38- 39). If this absolute love exists, with its absolute certainty, then—only then—is man “redeemed”, whatever should happen to him in his particular circumstances. This is what it means to say: Jesus Christ has “redeemed” us. This is what it means to say: Jesus Christ has “redeemed” us. Through him we have become certain of God, a God who is not a remote “first cause” of the world, because his only-begotten Son has become man and of him everyone can say: “I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” [Spe et salvi, 26]

Our certainty of God’s love is where we can find hope. This truth is very important as we deal with the pandemic and the effect of the virus on all aspects of daily life. As Pope Benedict wrote:
In this sense it is true that anyone who does not know God, even though he may entertain all kinds of hopes, is ultimately without hope, without the great hope that sustains the whole of life (cf. Eph 2:12). Man's great, true hope which holds firm in spite of all disappointments can only be God—God who has loved us and who continues to love us “to the end,” until all “is accomplished” (cf. Jn 13:1 and 19:30).  Life in its true sense is not something we have exclusively in or from ourselves: it is a relationship. And life in its totality is a relationship with him who is the source of life. If we are in relation with him who does not die, who is Life itself and Love itself, then we are in life. Then we “live”. [Spe et salvi, 27]

Our faith then becomes Good News that we are called to share with others. For those who think that God is remote and we are just puppets in God’s hands, we are Jesus ambassadors, who have a different viewpoint and message to proclaim. We need to share the Truth about God, time, eternity, etc. That God loves us; that Christ died for us; that God is with us in Christ, who is Emmanuel; that God wants us to be with Him for all eternity. As ministers of this Good News, our focus cannot be simply on “my salvation” but also on the salvation of the world. A challenge and a task! With the idea of a personal relationship with Jesus and the individualism of our culture, we can consider our salvation from a personal perspective alone. Yes, we need to work out our salvation by cooperating with God’s grace. But at the same time our mission is the salvation of the world. That is the great hope entrusted to us. Pope Benedict stated this in his encyclical on hope:
Our hope is always essentially also hope for others; only thus is it truly hope for me too. As Christians we should never limit ourselves to asking: how can I save myself? We should also ask: what can I do in order that others may be saved and that for them too the star of hope may rise? Then I will have done my utmost for my own personal salvation as well. [Spe et salvi, 48]

 

Have you ever experienced something of whose importance you only appreciated later? I did very well academically in college and as a result I was the class marshal who led the graduating seniors as we processed in for the graduation ceremony. After graduation as my family and I were eating lunch, I realized that all of my success in college was somewhat meaningless now that my college career had ended. It had helped me get into a good graduate school but at the new school I would be starting all over again. All those things which I had thought were important … as the author of the first reading at Mass states:
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity! What profit has man from all the labor which he toils at under the sun? [Ecclesiastes 1:2]

A minister was preaching to his congregation. In the sanctuary he had a table with various objects on it: a small house, a car, a desk representing work, etc. As he preached, he placed red post-it stickers on each one with the word “temporary.” He mentioned how all these things were temporary but not eternal. At the end, he asked the congregation what would make them rich in the eyes of God? He had a little girl come into the sanctuary and place a blue post-it on her with the word “eternal.”
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity! What profit has man from all the labor which he toils at under the sun? [Ecclesiastes 1:2]

The point of these stories is that we focus much of our lives on the temporary things and forget the important, eternal ones. Heaven and eternal life? Do they merit our attention? Jesus tells us in John’s gospel what is eternal and not just vanity of vanities:
Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ. [John 17:3]
Are we daily consistent in the time we spend with God in prayer? Do we appreciate the importance of the Eucharist where we partake of the Bread of eternal life?

Saint Paul in his letter to the Corinthians reminds us of the important eternal things on earth:
So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love. [1 Corinthians 13:13]
Jesus defines what true love is. It is not the Hollywood version but the version that we see manifested every time we look at a crucifix: This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. [John 15:12-14]

The capacity to truly love arises from God’s grace in us. God’s grace arises from our relationship with God. So how do we proportion our time? Do we give enough attention to the eternal things? Or do we spend too much of our time on the things that are temporary and passing way. Will we learn the hard way the truth that the author of Ecclesiastes mentions:
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity! What profit has man from all the labor which he toils at under the sun? [Ecclesiastes 1:2]