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Sunday, March 14, 2010
Hard Times: A Sunday Rumination
Americans began to experience hard times about two years ago. Unfortunate changes in the distribution of political authority, and insane policies enacted by our new ruling elite, made them harder still. As the dynamics inherent in those policies seep into the motivational structure of the American economy, times are likely to become harder than any generation has known them since the Great Depression.
A people that faces hard times is a people in need of sustenance and comfort.
No man's temporal sustenance is guaranteed. It's not always the case that "the sweat of your face" will buy you what you need to survive, much less to flourish. This is particularly true of an economy that promotes extreme specialization, such as that of America.
Most of us are still "above water." Most of us. For those that aren't, physical and emotional survival could well depend upon the generosity of a neighbor, or a stranger. Yet among us who are still doing all right are many who, because they're not quite as well off as they were before the dislocations struck, feel they can't afford to be charitable, or as charitable as they were before the recession.
That's an understandable attitude. We tend to be charitable in proportion to our discretionary incomes. When our margins decline, we retrench along with those margins. Looking out for oneself and one's own is, after all, the first of anyone's temporal responsibilities. But that doesn't change the consequences of such a retrenchment.
I've been overjoyed to note these past two years that, in aggregate, Americans have been as charitable as ever, despite our national economic setbacks and our sense of heightened danger from a government run amok. There appears to be a conviction abroad that, in the best sense, we are one another's keepers. We might not be objectively liable for the well-being of our countrymen, even in a sense that God would take seriously. Yet we've responded to needs national and international with the generosity that's characterized Americans since we became a nation. It's a marvelous thing to witness.
But that's only half the job.
"Man does not live by bread alone," as Christ said to Lucifer near the conclusion of His time in the wilderness. He requires food for all three of his active agencies: body, mind, and soul.
Food for the body, whatever its provenance, is consumed by an individual for his own benefit. It need not serve anyone else's purposes to sustain his life. He eats it, its nutrients couple with his physiology, and his body gains strength. Whether we take our repasts in solitude or in company, there's nothing more individual than the consumption of food for the body.
The food of the mind, though we normally seek it as individuals, is societal in orientation. It consists of tasks suited to our individual skills, by which we demonstrate that we're still capable and valuable to others. It's not the sense of personal power that nourishes one's self-regard nearly so much as the sense that others want and can benefit by what we do. When there's no consumer for our efforts, we close in upon ourselves. We wither away.
The food of the soul is more complex yet. Few persons can consume it all by themselves; no one can harvest it without the active assistance of Another.
Spiritual sustenance consists of reassurance that we matter: not in the ephemeral sense of mattering to other human beings, but in the absolute sense that cannot be destroyed by the passing of those who've loved us. For one who resides exclusively in time, among beings as mortal and forgetful as we, cannot hide from the ultimate loss of such significance as he can attain during his lifetime.
The reductio ad absurdum is Robinson Crusoe. Imagine if that unfortunate had known, beyond all question, that there is no God and no eternal life, that he would never again seen a human face, and therefore would never again matter to anyone. What would that have done to his labors for his own survival? Is it even imaginable that he would have struggled on, doing everything in his powers to tame his new home and amass comforts within it? I can't see it, and I doubt that anyone else could convince me otherwise.
Yet Crusoe, marooned alone for a long spell on his island, never ceased to give thanks to God for what deliverance He had vouchsafed him. His faith was all he had to sustain him, and even in the absence of human company it proved sufficient. His story is suffused with Christian feeling from first to last: a conviction of absolute significance, meaning that transcended his mortal life by an infinite degree and that obligated him to strive to his utmost on his own behalf, that he could not possibly have sustained without his faith.
One of the great puzzles of life is why so many persons, in straits of one sort or another, turn away from Christian faith when it would be of greatest benefit to them.
The reason I've heard most frequently from those who've turned away when under unusual stress is that "I haven't got time for that right now." Yet somehow, "right now" never seems to elapse. The distance between the afflicted one and God grows greater with time. After some unspecifiable point, he sees the gulf as unbridgeable, and his departure as permanent.
Such a severance constitutes a tragedy beyond my ability to express. Why, when food for the body or the mind becomes scarce and hard to gather, would one voluntarily eschew food for the soul? What benefit could be gained that way?
It could be a devil's bargain, I suppose. One who isn't thinking clearly might be seduced into believing that spiritual nourishment can be traded for other sorts. But that's not the way human life works.
It could also be a misconception about the demands of Christian faith. Neither God the Father nor Christ His Son demanded anything of Man but appreciation of Creation's gifts to us and respect for the laws graven into human nature. Self-abnegation is not required of us; neither is the renunciation of any wholesome pleasure. Granted that various clerics and churchly bodies have made such demands, those were and are men speaking, not the tongue of God. I believe wholeheartedly that such persons will face Divine justice for their presumption.
Christ Himself said it:
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. [The Gospel According To Matthew, 11:28-30]
In return for faith in God and respect for our fellow men, we get the hope of eternal life, and the assurance of unquenchable Divine love. No sacrifices are required. Nor will the ushers throw you out for having nothing to put in the collection basket. As Ann Coulter wrote recently, if you can find a better deal than that, take it!
I often come to the end of these Ruminations feeling as if I could have condensed the whole thing into a single paragraph, perhaps even a single sentence. Christ did so, as indicated above. But (as a certain Robert Zimmerman would surely remind me) I'm not Him. I have to circumnavigate my points if I'm to feel they've been properly encapsulated. I hope that doesn't put too many Gentle Readers off.
Every man has a burden or twelve: a "cross to bear" that often feels too heavy for mortal strength. Faith, actively used, can and will lighten the load. Pray! Don't be an arrogant asshole; admit that you need help! You'll get it, though its form might not be what you specifically request. When the wood begins to rub your shoulder raw, call upon Jesus. Presently you'll feel His shoulder right alongside yours.
Of course you will. You matter to Him. Look at the burden He undertook to carry for you.
May God bless and keep you all.
Comments
You’ll get it, though its form might not be what you specifically request.
And it might take some time to learn that the help was right, even though it wasn’t what you expected.
Posted by Blackiswhite, Imperial Consigliere on 03/14/2010 at 12:18 PMBisW, I could not have said that better. All I could add, would be that in hindsight, a greater understanding of “why” we were “forced to endure something (or someone), was almost always to benefit us in dealing with some future situation. Help comes in many forms.
Posted by Guy S. on 03/14/2010 at 12:43 PM
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