On leisure and culture: why human things exist and why they are "unimportant"

Modern Age, Fall, 2004 by James V. Schall

From an eternal point of view, there seems to be little evidence that fewer love God in wartime than in peacetime. In fact, Scripture itself seems to suggest that, in many ways, times of prosperity and riches are more morally dangerous than times of want and poverty. Nothing suggests that the poor of this world reach eternal life proportionally less frequently than the rich. The old monastic literature seemed to be more concerned about the souls of monks in times of peace than in times of trial. Our sociological surveys likewise tell us that breakdowns in families, in society, in morality are much deeper in times of civilization and peace than in times of war when we are more likely to call upon the Lord, or at least see the need of some duty and honor.

But what about this notion of the "unseriousness of human affairs?" As I remind my friends, this title has a classical reference that any cultivated person should immediately recognize. It comes from a passage in the Seventh Book of Plato's Laws. The context is one that is essential for us to understand. Plato does not think that political and economic affairs are worth nothing. He grants them "a certain importance." He is aware that much of our time and energy are spent on them. But he asks of their relative importance not in light of themselves but in light of something more fascinating and absorbing. If we realize that Plato tells us what is in fact "serious," we will better understand what he means when he tells us that our human affairs are "unserious." What is serious, of course, is God.

In Plato there is nothing of the idea of "obligation" or "duty," as we often think of our relation to God. Everything is rather a spontaneous reaction to the beholding of what is beautiful. The commandments themselves of course tell us to keep holy the Sabbath Day. They identify the Lord, our God. But revelation does not replace Plato's main point here, rather it reinforces it. If we are admonished to keep holy the Sabbath or not to take the name of the Lord in vain, we are not to think that obeying such admonitions is the essence of what revelation is telling us. We human beings are easily distracted, both to ourselves, and to our own affairs.

The first three commandments of the Decalogue point not to ourselves, but to God. And our relation to God, as Plato intimated, is one rather closer to play than to work. It is one of those things that are "for its own sake" and not for anything we might receive. Josef Pieper put it well in his classic book, Leisure: The Basis of Culture: "And as it is written in the Scripture, God saw, when 'he rested from all the works that He had made,' that everything was good, very good (Genesis 1:31), just so the leisure of man includes within itself a celebratory, approving, lingering gaze of the inner eye on the reality of creation." (5) Not only does God delight in His creation, but His creation is to delight in what exists. Human sin, in this sense, might well be called the "disappointment of God" in the creatures not delighting both in God and in what He has made.