Great eagerness in the pursuit of wealth, pleasure, or honor

“Great eagerness in the pursuit of wealth, pleasure, or honor, cannot exist without sin.” So spoke Desiderius Erasmus, the wise scholar of the Renaissance, whose heart yearned for the renewal of faith and virtue in a world dazzled by ambition and gold. These words ring like a bell in the silence of the soul, warning those who chase the glittering illusions of the world. To pursue wealth with burning desire, to crave pleasure without restraint, to hunger for honor with pride—these are the seeds from which corruption grows. For eagerness unchecked becomes greed, and the flame that first warms the heart soon burns the conscience.

In the days of old, the great Erasmus looked upon the princes and prelates of Europe, who wrapped themselves in silks and crowns while preaching humility. He saw how their eagerness for earthly power twisted the sacred into the profane. His words were not mere condemnation, but lamentation—a cry of sorrow for souls lost in the whirlpool of desire. He believed that when one’s heart is consumed by ambition, it leaves no room for the quiet voice of virtue. The man who chases riches with desperate zeal no longer possesses his wealth; rather, his wealth possesses him.

Consider the tale of Midas, the fabled king whose touch turned all things to gold. What greater image of greed could there be? Yet, in his triumph, he found his curse. His bread turned to metal, his daughter’s hand to lifeless gold. His desire, once noble in intention, became a chain that strangled joy from his life. So it is with all who pursue pleasure or honor without measure: their eagerness blinds them, and what they thought would make them gods instead turns them into slaves.

And yet, Erasmus did not despise prosperity nor joy itself. He knew that wealth can serve virtue, that pleasure can be pure, and honor can be earned through goodness. But he taught that moderation is the measure of the righteous. To be eager is not to be evil, but to be unbridled is to fall. When the heart beats only for the next coin, the next indulgence, or the next applause, it forgets the divine rhythm of peace and purpose. The soul, once bright as morning dew, becomes clouded like water stirred by a restless hand.

There is also a subtle form of sin in self-righteous eagerness—when one seeks honor under the guise of piety. How many have prayed, fasted, or spoken of virtue only to be praised by men, not by God? The ancient Pharisees, who stood tall in the marketplace proclaiming their goodness, were condemned not for their devotion, but for their hunger for recognition. For sin does not always roar like a lion; it often whispers softly in the pride of the heart.

In our age, though centuries have passed since Erasmus’s pen dried, his warning burns ever true. The glitter of screens has replaced the gold of thrones, and yet the eagerness remains the same. Men and women toil day and night to rise higher, to own more, to be seen more. Their spirits grow weary while their coffers fill. The poor man envies the rich; the rich man fears losing his crown. And in this endless chase, the soul grows hollow, echoing with the emptiness of unending want.

So, my child, when you walk among the treasures of the world, let your heart be still. Take what you need with gratitude, but do not let desire take hold of you. Pursue excellence, but let humility be your companion. Taste pleasure, but let temperance be your guide. Seek honor, but let truth and service earn it for you. In this way, your eagerness will become a virtue, not a vice—a flame that lights, not burns.

For the final lesson of Erasmus’s wisdom is this: sin is born not from the pursuit itself, but from the fever that consumes the pursuer. Therefore, keep your flame steady, your will disciplined, and your soul watchful. The world will tempt you with gold, flesh, and glory, but only those who master their eagerness will taste true peace. Let this be your creed: to desire with wisdom, to act with grace, and to live with moderation.