On the Way to Princeton

    Which is what I'll be, on Tuesday, to speak for the James Madison Program, at 4:30, but I'm not sure in what building.  The topic is the inhumanity of change for change's sake; what change is, the order it presupposes, and its end in the ultimate change beyond change, in the time beyond time.  The talk focuses on Edmund Spenser's Mutability Cantos, but as I've been revising it (and inserting opportunities for the ad lib), I've been reading the great Josef Pieper's work, Faith, Hope, Love.  In that work of condensed philosophy, poetry, and deep insight into human truth, Pieper says that the existential condition of man is to be "on the way," always "not yet" fulfilled, looking beyond the horizon of the immediately available, ever pressing to some end that he cannot provide for himself.

     It's a rich work, one that repays close reading and re-reading, the distilled wisdom of many years of thought.  It is also deeply unsettling for someone, even a Christian, raised in the modern milieu; that is because Pieper is so keen a diagnostician of our maladies.  He sees that the natural virtue that walks with the supernatural virtue of hope is magnanimity: that greatness of soul that cannot be satisfied with small achievements -- that cannot be resigned, let us say, to a life of a few creature comforts and physical distractions.  We should hope in God, not for what is little and unworthy of him, but for what is great, crying out with the greathearted psalmist: "Whom have I in heaven but thee?"  Instead we deceive ourselves into thinking that we are real pioneers, embarking upon the next project of social conditioning, with, as Lewis says, the conditioned being reduced to inert nature to work upon, and the conditioners, in the very act, reducing themselves to bare kernels of will, nothing more.  We believe that such "science" will make us happy; or rather we do not really believe it, but since we have been infected with the enemies of hope and magnanimity, namely acedia and pusillanimity, we settle for nonfulfillment of our deepest longings; and then, in a truly diabolical move, we settle for it and say that, after all, that is what fulfillment is.  Thus, says Pieper, do presumption and despair meet.

     But how liberating and refreshing is Pieper's analysis of hope!  I am reminded of the great verse from the Vulgate Psalms, recited by priest and acolyte in preparing for Mass in the old Latin rite: "I shall go in unto the altar of God, of God, who gives joy to my youth."  Youth is the season of hope, when the future seems endless before us, and the past but a step or two back to childhood; and if that is so for the youth by nature, how much more is it so for those whom the grace of God has made young -- for the saints are the most youthful among us.  Why is that?  It is not because they believe they are near the goal.  In fact, the holier they become, the farther off the goal of holiness appears to them to be, yet the more magnificent the grace of God that will allow them to attain that goal.  Youth may be the time of great dreaming, but no dream is as great as what God has in store for those who love him.  And just as the saint sees the mountains of the Lord recede into the distance, whetting his longing all the more to be on the way toward them, and giving him all the greater confidence in the Spirit that walks by his side, so the modern man, gripped by acedia, fools himself into believing that his goal is paltry and near, and yet the closer he comes to it, the wider does the gulf between him and his happiness yawn, like an abyss, without the Spirit of God hovering above the waters.

     Be on the way, then, O man, and never believe small things about the One who made the mountains.

Comments

[Beth from TN]

Must read . . . . another for the book list!

[Albion]

Ah, Tony - who else could get away with a post that uses 'pusillanimity' and 'accedia'! As always, your posts command a second or third reading. (I hope you'll explain these words at Princeton, given the state of modern education..)

[Kristor]

The saints are the youngest among us. Indeed! For they apprehend the measure of their earthly lives better, and more sapiently than we, the lesser saints, in respect to their immortal prospects.

I am reminded of Lewis's admonition that we must always remember that we are still the early Christians.

[Sr. Dorcee Clarey]

Ah, I'm glad you're discovering these gems by Pieper--especially the one on hope. I think I've read that one twice at least--and was just referring to my notes the other day. Have you read his "Leisure, the Basis of Culture?" and "Only the Lover Sings: Art and Contemplation"?

[Tony Esolen]

Dear Sister,

Ah yes -- reading Leisure changed my life some years ago... It had the same effect on me that reading Chesterton or Lewis or Tolkien has on other people. I saw almost at once that my own life and almost everybody else's was an offense against the Sabbath and against sheer simple human joy....

[Rob G]

I've just read 'Only The Lover Sings: Art and Contemplation' by Pieper and would highly recommend it to all.

[dp]

What struck me most about Faith, Hope and Charity was Pieper's contention that one cannot understand the theological virtues without understanding that they presuppose a Divine object. That seems obvous except for the modern tendency to admire people of faith as if their faith is some kind of personal trait, an admirable furrowing of the brow and setting of the jaw. But you can never really admire a man of hope or faith without bowing to the One toward Whom he directs his Faith Hope and Charity. That is why they are the theological virtues not simply human attributes.
I am preparing for the death of a close family member who had a deep faith in God since childhood. Above all I want to pay her tribute by gently not allowing her death to become a time to speak of her great faith in that condescending manner which does not pay proper heed to the God Whom she saw so clearly. I am battling how to say that her faith is not some internal delightful quirk of her personality but was an encounter with a Divine Reality she saw more clearly than the rest of us. It is He not she who makes a radical claim on us if we are to pay her real tribute at all. I remember it was Pieper who made this so crystal clear to me when I read him at least a decade ago. I will use this reminder to revisit him again. Thank you.