Vanity of vanities all is vanity, so says the scripture this morning speaking to the world in which we live and move and have our being. Speaking to our world, a world where in a recent year more than more than 8 million women and just over 1 million men had some type of cosmetic procedure. Speaking to each of us this day, who may have seen a recent report — a report that noted the correlation between reality television shows that follow the process of cosmetic surgery, shows such as “Dr. 90210” and “Extreme Makeover,” and the rise in the number of surgeries performed in this country each year. Most notable was a growing trend in the number of teenage girls seeking some type of cosmetic surgery to enhance both their bodies and their self-esteem. A trend that parents of teens, the psychiatric community and all of us should be concerned about. The major complaint against these shows is that they show only the successful surgeries with no attention to the recovery time, or the lack of met expectation and are actually influencing the way we think about ourselves and our value. In just 60 minutes of television magic patients have consultations, surgery, a recovery period and are back living full, happy lives. And almost every person on these shows makes the claim that their procedure changed, transformed their life. Complete transformation of one’s life, according to reality TV, consists of finding the right surgeon and having the right surgery. It is an external process. No longer are we the beloved of God, created in God’s image, with our own quirks and distinctive features — a hook nose, some crows feet or laugh lines, slightly large ears. Instead we all need to be improved to meet some external standard, some random norm of beauty that is hardly normative and sometimes not even beautiful. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity. We are all familiar with this type of vanity and its powerful and subtle influence on our lives. There is nothing in scripture or in the Christian life that speaks directly for or against cosmetic procedures so not to worry. But what we do know is that we are so much more than perfect skin. We are, each of us, created in God’s image.
When we speak of vanity we are speaking about a concern for our outward appearance — an over concern perhaps to be specific. My own bathroom shelf is filled with lotions and potions that promise younger, glowing skin with no wrinkles. Of course those bottles sit right next to the tube of acne cream. Go figure. And high on my list of questions for God, though not at the very top, is how it is possible to have both wrinkles and acne at the same time? But we must not confuse vanity with grooming, or with caring for ourselves in body, mind and spirit and the acknowledgement that our bodies, our physical self, imperfect as they may be, are indeed a gift from God.
When Holy Scripture speaks of vanity as it does in our lesson from Ecclesiastes this morning it is referring not to an outward vanity, to acne or wrinkles or Botox, but rather to that empty, void place that exists within all of us — that place that can only be filled with the grace and love of God. The Hebrew term is hebel, which translates from the root meaning “wind” or “vapor.” Temporal things. All life is temporal. Utter futility is what the writer of Ecclesiastes understands. Utter futility, utter futility, all is utter futility. And hear what else the writer of Ecclesiastes says, “It is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with,” and further along “What do mortals get from all their toil and strain with which they toil under the sun? For all their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their minds do not rest.” Ecclesiastes is one of the most depressing and cynical books of the Bible. There is nothing in life that leads anywhere; rather we are all just caught in a cycle of work and toil, of pain and suffering. Empty, empty all is empty.
We all know people who feel that life is empty and many of us have been there ourselves, or are there right now. To some extent, there is a part of each of us that wonders what we are here on this earth to do? What will our great contribution be? Will we make one or will our lives be nothing but a series of endless days of toil? How will we at the end of our days know that our life made a difference? When we come to know that looks will indeed fade and our bodies betray us in illness or disease, as they will, we know there is also the desire to make a difference — whether it is big or small, whether noticed by the world or not. And as time passes, for it surely does, and as we learn to number our days and apply our hearts to wisdom, as Scripture also tells us, we each in our own way long to make sense of it all. And sometimes, sometimes I wonder if all our worry about the vanities of our life is an easier way to face the day than to tackle the news of the day. Easier to think about our looks, our comforts than to consider the headlines we find in the paper — headlines that are filled with natural disasters and disasters of our own choosing, of mothers killing children, and children killing each other. There was a day this week where I opened the paper and all I could do was close it again and pray. Each headline, it seemed, was more terrible than the next. The life around is a continuing cycle of work and toil and pain and suffering just as the writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us. And yet, and yet life is also filled with wonder and goodness, with joy and forgiveness and healing, though they rarely make the headlines. These two seemingly contradictory notions. Of hopelessness and hopefulness, live side by side for those of us who profess a faith in the risen Christ and it is our task, our joy, our privilege, to make sense of it all. But it is no small task.
So maybe you are here on this beautiful summer day to help make sense of your life, a life that can feel like an endless cycle of work and toil. And just because it is summer, truly one of the holiest of all seasons here in New England, does not mean that the challenges and responsibilities we face take a vacation. Illness and death, depression and hardship do not take time off in June, July and August. But neither do hope, reconciliation, and love. It is all mixed together, all the year long, in an endless cycle. And despite advertisements that continually highlight long summer days at the beach, and happy families gathered on whitewashed front porches sipping lemonade, despite our own desire to take long summer walks, read a great novel, and eat delicious platters of seafood, we know that these summer moments are as fleeting as the days of toil.
Putting away earthly things, our fears, our anxieties, our preoccupations, whether they are spiritual or material has been a recurring theme in our scripture readings these past few weeks. From the story of Martha and Mary, sisters who were bickering over how best to welcome their houseguest, to Jesus teaching on prayer there is much for us to consider as we seek to number our days and apply our heart to wisdom, to God’s wisdom, not ours. The Bible offers over 500 verses on prayer and fewer than 500 verses on faith, yet it contains more than 2,000 verses on money and possessions. And today’s Gospel lesson is one of them. Jesus is asked to settle a dispute over an inheritance and he uses this story as a moment to teach about the temporal nature of earthly possession — the are like wind or vapor. Here one minute, gone the next. To value them, stockpile them, trust in them is futility, utter futility.
It is no small task to makes sense of this life. Our lives are an amazing mixture of joy and sorrow, love and loss, flesh and spirit. We too toil and strain under the sun and find no rest, until we find rest in God. It is no small task to hold the suffering of life in one hand, and in the other to hold the confidence of eternal life and the love of God as we go about our lives. But that is why we gather here at this altar to nurture our bodies and our spirit once again with the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation. These gifts and God’s love are not dependent on anything we do, or on how we look for we can neither earn them nor lose them.
So today as you hold your own sorrow and anxiety this day in one hand and your own joy and hope in the other, know that those same hands will soon hold the bread and the cup, and all will be held in the hands of God who knows our imperfections and loves us still. Thanks be to God. Amen.
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