A part of me really wants those binoculars. “They’re an important part of establishing our company with an image as a far-sighted, forward-looking organization.” was my best justification for the purchase. In fact, it was such a good, actually, great, reason for purchasing them that it may well carry the field.
On the other hand, was a realization: “You will be able to take nothing with you into the world beyond but your prayers and good deeds. This giant pair of binoculars will not even fit in your coffin, much less accompany your soul to Judgment. What are you going to do, tell Jesus Christ, Himself, when you stand before Him to be judged that you should be allowed to get into Heaven because you once bought a pair of giant binoculars?”
That quiet voice of sanity went on opposing vanity: “You could take that nine thousand dollars and make a real difference in someone’s life. You could give it to your Parish Priest so that he could give it, anonymously, to those in the parish who needed help because their utilities were going to be shut off.”
I had to agree. I also know that there is a convent nearby whose sisters need help. That nine thousand dollars would pay their utilities for several months and have enough left over to fix some leaks in their roof.
Another voice chimed in. “Why don’t you do both? Why don’t you buy the binoculars and give a similar amount to the Sisters?”
I liked that idea. I’d have whatever good the binoculars would do as a symbol of our corporate far-sightedness, plus having the enjoyment of hearing people say how wonderfully impressive they are.
“On top of that, you would have the great good fortune of the holy Sisters praying for your continued success. Keeping the efficacy of their prayers in mind, The Binocular Wars could have two winners, you and the convent. Simply by paying twice as much initially, you’d ultimately have no cost at all!”
