Perhaps my favorite parable of the Nazarene is one of his shortest: “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.” Let's first filter out the superstitious, patriarchal bullshit. “Heavenly Father” can replaced by Spinoza's epistemically acceptable and metaphysically monist “God or nature” because even though there is no personal creator divinity, the birds of the air certainly do not reap, sow, or store, and yet they are fed. Nature itself is bountiful, fecund, ripe for a harvest of spirit and all that satiates gnawing need and panting, mouthwatering desire. And we all too human misers believe that harnessing god or nature to put up great stores of wealth will end our precarity and our dependence on the fates. Oh illusion of illusions, and how devastating that illusion is when we put of satisfying our desires to some afterlife whether it be heaven, utopia, apocalypse, or retirement—some beyond!