All is Vanity

“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.” –Ecclesiastes 2:22-23

When Ecclesiastes opened with its “all is vanity,” it’s easy to nod along, thinking of how much trivial, vain things are in the world. It’s all small compared to God. But when the first reading this past Sunday concluded with these verses from chapter 2, it made me pause and think, “Wait, that’s vanity?”

Sorrow and grief are real and not easily shaken off. No one chooses to burden themselves with anxiety. The pain is unwanted; the toil is tiresome. How can such suffering be disregarded as vanity?

It struck close to home. How can my pain and suffering be so easily dismissed? It’s easy to say that it’ll pass or to think positive when you are not the one drowning the stick black mess of melancholia. It’s easy to say the sufferer is overreacting or seeking attention when you want to ignore them.

Sorrow is a void, and you try to scream and no one hears. You scream again, and one person turns to tell you to be quiet. You’re drowning, and everyone else just wants to enjoy their day at the beach. You’re told to say something, speak up, ask for help. But people like to help with 1-800 numbers instead of wading into the water and actually listening.

What profit is there? Nothing. I know it’s nothing. It’s painful and restless and isolating. It feels me with anger and guilt and self-pity and pride. It exhausts me. It feels too big, too overshadowing, to be trivial, temporal. It’s all-consuming, yet it’s nothing? Yes, I know that’s the point. It is temporal. God is much, much stronger. It’s just hard to find the light through all the muck.

St. Mary of the Cross

Mary MacKillop was born in Melbourne, Australia in 1842 to Scottish immigrants. She worked as a governess, but made sure to teach the children of the farm hands on the estate as well. She had a passion for teaching and caring for the poor.

In 1866, Father Tenison Woods invited her and her sister to open a Catholic school. On November 21 that year, Mary along with several other women dedicated to teaching, adopted religious names and began wearing simple habits. They named themselves the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Sacred Heart (the Josephites), dedicated to educating the poor. It was the first religious order founded by an Australian. Mary took the name Mary of the Cross.

The order expanded rapidly and opened several more schools in South Australia in the next decade. They also operated orphanages and homes for the aged. Just as quickly, they faced pushback and controversy.

In early 1870, Mary heard allegations that a priest had abused children. She informed Father Woods, who informed the vicar general, and the priest was sent back to Ireland. A colleague of the priest, Father Charles Horan, was angered by the removal; evidence suggests he sought revenge against Father Woods and the Josephites. Father Horan became vicar general in June 1870. In September, he met the bishop of Adelaide and convinced him that the diocese should have control over the order. The Josephite constitution claimed submission to Rome, not the local diocese. Mary refused to change the constitution. She was excommunicated for insubordination.

Rumors spread that the Josephites were financially incompetence and that Mary had a drinking problem. Though the order was not disbanded, many of the schools were forced to close. Forbidden from having contact with Catholics, Mary lived with a Jewish family during this time. Some of her sisters resisted diocesan attempts of control; others acquiesced.

On his deathbed, the bishop instructed Father Horan to lift the excommunication. On Feb. 21, 1872, she was absolved; she was later completely exonerated. The next year, she went to Rome to have the Josephite “Rule of Life” officially approved. Some changes were made, but Pope Pius IX was supportive of her. Pope Leo XIII gave the final approval in 1888.

The order expanded into New South Wales and New Zealand. They continued to face issues with local clergy because the sisters did not operate as traditional orders did, and they did not accept affluent children nor government money.

I think the most inspiring part of Mary of the Cross’ story is that although she became embroiled in pity, vengeful attacks and resistance, she continued to follow the path that was best for her sisters and the children they served. She remained faithful to God and her vows, even when “disobedient” to the local men in power. In the end, she was exonerated and allowed to follow her calling.

Mother Mary of the Cross died on August 8, 1909 in Sydney. The first Australian to be declared a saint, she was canonized in 2010.