Yesterday’s column was written even as its author had two bids in on an auction of old maps from the 1500s. The maps were made by Munster, and encapsulated the view of the world in his century. They were drawn and published a few decades after Columbus and others had provided some charts of their discoveries in the West.
I lost the first map, having been distracted.
Obtaining the remaining map became important. I checked and re-checked the bid to be sure mine hadn’t been topped. All the while, the lurking thought from Luke, 16:15 “You justify yourselves in the sight of others, but God knows your hearts; for what is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God.”, stayed in my mind.
God knew my thoughts. He knew that I wanted to buy the map, and have it expensively double or triple-matted and framed. It would be protected with costly, special, museum-quality glass that minimized light damage. Then, it would be hung in a prominent place. I would invite visitors to “Take a look at this.”, after which I’d explain its history, and point out how a few places of interest were portrayed in the 1500s. And, of course, explain the importance of using the special glass that protected the document from light damage.
I did enjoy thinking about how I could brag about some inconsequential piece of paper. I did not enjoy thinking that the piece of paper will end up being a way to bore people who have far better things to do than listen to another vain dissertation. I did not enjoy thinking that I had replaced thinking about God and ways to do something meaningful for family and neighbors with acquiring another piece of expensive, framed paper that had been made four hundred and sixty years ago from old rags. I did not enjoy realizing that by forcing/manipulating someone into listening to me talk about what I had, I was keeping them from talking or thinking about something more important to them.
Vanity. Pure, simple, absolute vanity.
Looking around my house and office, I became aware of other passing fancies that had engaged me over the past decades. Boxes of them. A truckload of boxes.
“There’s no way that I can take a single one of those things, let along a boxful of them, with me to Judgment.”, I said to myself. “That’s probably a good thing. If I could do so, it would only give the Judge the physical evidence He’d need to convict me of Pride and Greed, if not actual Gluttony.
“Why do I go on thinking that these things are important enough to spend time, effort, and money on rather than prayer, study, and helping neighbors? Isn’t anything that separates me from God a false idol? Is that why ‘what is of human esteem is an abomination in the sight of God’?”
In the interests of honesty, before writing this column, I did raise my irrevocable bid on the Munster map from 1559. After thinking about it, I will at least make an attempt to show at least a modicum of concern about obedience. It is my last bid.
I pray that the dog will not “returneth to its vomit”.
