Three points by way of introduction: First, I have
never been one to try to plan my future in any detailed way. Second, my mind
has often been focused toward “future” beyond space-time, toward eternity. Third, if I did not see value in some rational planning for future time here, I
would not bother with this exercise.
***
The ultimate goal and life “here”
What
follows is not a plan, but at best, a prelude to a plan. I have not given
sufficient thought about “what to do” in time remaining to me here. It seems
true that I have never been one to try to plan out my life in advance, and
surely not in details. At best I have tried to consider what I will be doing in
the next year or two. In a life with so many changes, many of which have come
without human willing or forethought, rational planning has seemed all but
impossible to me. Despite this pattern, however, I shall attempt, in coming
weeks, to give some coherent thought about “what to do” in time remaining to
me.
As
for time and eternity: Historically, in centuries saturated with Christian
experience and thought, “future” meant primarily non-time beyond death, not
coming temporal years. That conception changed radically in the period we call
“modernity,” from roughly the 17th century to the present. Now, “future” is
usually understood to mean “here on earth,” or even somewhere in “outer space,”
but not—for most people, most of the time—life beyond death. Since my youth
(late teens), I have been far more focused on what St. Ignatius of Antioch
plainly called “getting to God” than in building up my life and future in this
passing world. Had I not repeatedly chosen to spend my mental and spiritual
efforts in the “search for God” according to the philosophical and Christian
traditions, I would have sought more lucrative employment, found a suitable
wife, raised a family, and worked hard to acquire a degree of “security” and
“empowerment” for life in this world. Obviously, I have taken a different
path.
Having been able to keep no salary until about age
50, I have had to spend considerable time investing to provide for my eventual
retirement, as I chose not to aim at returning to St. Anselm’s Abbey, but to be
independent “in the world.” Such financial planning is not the issue here, as
saving and investing money is a means to an end, not the end sought. Investing
is for the sake of independence and “empowerment” (as Jeanie recently wrote) to
accomplish one’s chosen tasks. That much is evident. That I also invest to
gain knowledge and experience, and as a mode of entertainment, is not the issue
here, either.
At
age 63, I do not regret time and effort spent in the quest for God (the
Anselmian fides quaerens intellectum, faith seeking understanding); on
the contrary, I regret not having engaged in this intellectual-spiritual work
more avidly and intelligently. While still seeing the ultimate goal of life as
union with God beyond death (the Christian transcendental hope), I have long
sought to avoid a mental split between life “here” and life “there,” as if one
lives one way now, another way after death. On the contrary, I appreciate the
philosophers, mystics, and saints East and West who sought to live now, to the
extent possible, the life in which they would participate “then.” In other
words, I fully accept the Platonic understanding of “eternal life” (and he
coined the phrase in western culture): not as life “after death,” or primarily
as “everlasting life,” but eternal life as true life, here and now. And this
true life, eternal life, is a sharing in that which is eternal,
deathless—namely, the divine. So my goal is eternal life, understood not as
“life in heaven,” but as a real participation in ultimate reality. And this
Life transcends the confines of space-time.
Perhaps a question or two may clarify and sharpen
what is meant: What do I consider the ultimate goal of life, and how does one
achieve it? The old catechism was not wrong, even if simplistic: the goal of
life is happiness here, and eternal life with God beyond death. But for me,
these two ends are not separate: happiness is eternal life, in the sense of
true life. The goal of life is true, complete, and lasting happiness. Believing this to be true (and such is the common belief in the Greek
philosophical and Christian perspectives), it seems to be clear what I must do
with time remaining on earth, does it not?
***
A brief note on happiness and eternal
life
What
is happiness? Aristotle’s famous insight is as good as any I know as a starting
point: “Happiness is an activity of the soul in conformity with virtue.” The
virtuous life engenders happiness. And as Aristotle proceeds to show in the
Nicomachean Ethics, there are two distinct kinds of virtue, each with its kind
of happiness: the active life achieves happiness through right action, through
exercising the moral and intellectual virtues (summarized as courage,
self-control, justice, and prudence); and the contemplative life, the life of
study, finds its fulfillment in “immortalizing,” and “becoming divine to the
extent possible,” using Aristotle’s phrases. Through contemplating the divine,
man becomes like what he contemplates.
I
agree with St. Thomas Aquinas that for us in this world, the best life combines
the active life of virtuous activity (doing good, loving one’s neighbor), and
the contemplative life of loving God. Without living virtuously, and loving the
person near us, who has a claim on our hearts and actions, what could loving God
possibly be, but an escape into a void? And true love of neighbor—seeking the
happiness and well-being of one’s fellow creature—is an outflow of one’s love of
Goodness, of the Good, of that which in Christian tradition is called “God.”
***
So what am I to do?
Rather than develop these thoughts in the abstract,
I return to the practical question: What do I intend to do with any time left
me to be physically alive? What is the best at which I should aim, and how can
I best achieve it?
From
what I have written, it would not be reasonable if I sought to spend my
remaining time in amusements or entertainment, would it? But again, as
Aristotle teaches, amusements have their place if they serve to refresh the soul
for virtuous activities and contemplation (study, thought, prayer). As we eat
to do good and to think, so one allows time for amusements and “diversions” in
order to be more fully engaged in the essential tasks of life: loving God and
neighbor, doing good and seeking to understand reality. The danger for all of
us, myself included, is that such “diversions” can become primary, or usurp the
proper focus of life. As Irving Babbitt wrote, “All life is either diversion or
conversion.” We see much evidence that our society is obsessed with
diversions: consumerism, drugs, booze, entertainment, “being connected,” trips,
porn, and so on. A foremost danger for me is that diversions such as following
business news, surfing the web, playing a card game, shopping, and so on, can
and often do eclipse the larger, more true goal to bear in mind: doing good to
one’s neighbor out of the ongoing search for God (the truth of reality).
What
kind of activities ought I to perform in order to be happy, to share in true
life, eternal life? What do I have to give to others, that may benefit them?
How can I best serve the well-being of others, and at the same time, actively
seek to love and to know God? This question, and others like it, determine for
me any future plans I would wish to develop. Good questions guide good actions
and right understanding. What questions must be asked? How shall I
proceed?
I
ask the questions not in the abstract, but concretely, given who I am, what
talents or skills I may have, what opportunities to benefit others. I do not
ask now, “How can a human being best serve others?” but “How can I best serve
others, and respond to the God seeking me through seeking truth, goodness,
beauty?”
Now
for a few partial answers open to re-examination, revision,
rethinking.
Having written all of the preceding material four
days ago, one practical thought keeps returning to consciousness: Stay where I
am, if permitted by church authorities, and seek to assist these parishioners
with their lives, to the extent that I am able to do so. I cannot justify
“retiring” in order to have more “leisure time” to “do what I want.” If I
manage my time well, I already have sufficient time for leisure (schole) in the
proper sense, as analyzed by Aristotle: freedom from necessities, in order to
engage in a virtuous life, through good deeds and study, as outlined above. Admittedly, there are days and weeks when I am overly busy for my good or that
of others, but these periods pass.
Some
kind of “early retirement” would not only bind me to the necessity of struggling
to “make ends meet” with a small Social Security check and relatively small
savings / investments, but could give me too much opportunity to waste time on
“personal projects,” on activities done “because I want to do them,” and not
really focused either on what benefits others or on the life of the mind in the
sense of contemplation and the search for truth about reality. I seem to give
my best to others when duties demand me to do so, as in preaching, teaching,
ministering to the sick and dying, and so on. As I reject being “a hermit,” so
I am not interested in providing for myself a life of ease to do whatever I
want, when I want it.
A
large practical problem for me is that without having duties to perform, I have
not engaged sufficiently in genuine prayer, study, or contemplation; nor do I
have a solid record of seeking the well-being of others, beyond the range of my
required duties. In religious language, I have not had a clear sense of being
“called” to some particular work, other than what my duties require of me. The
one clear exception to this last generalization is this: I have long felt drawn
to seek God through study and writing. That much I know clearly. But when
given the time and means to do so, I have often diverted myself in diversions,
and avoided the hard work of contemplation in the real sense.
In
other words, given who I am, it makes more sense to remain in my present job,
working with these people, and seek to serve them better. At the same time, I
owe it to myself to engage more actively in the “search for God” to which I
truly feel drawn.
Concluding note: I shall continue this discussion
below, perhaps on 27 Feb 2014 (today). What I have written could be circulated,
as to family; what I need to work on is private material: a critical analysis
of ways that I divert myself from the search for God. Each soul must do this
work for him/herself. “Know thyself.” Come clean in the solitude of one’s
heart. How am I spending my time?
