Boethius, The Consolation 3.9

“Though the rich man with greed

heaps up from ever-flowing streams

the wealth that cannot satisfy,

though he deck himself with pearls from the Red Sea's shore,

and plough his fertile field with oxen by the score,

yet gnawing care will never in his lifetime leave him,

and at his death his wealth will not go with him,

but leave him faithlessly.”

—from Book 3, Poem 3

Now most people I know will tell me that they have always understood such a claim, which is why I scratch my head when most people also live in exactly the contrary way. Where is the obstacle to putting the theory into practice, or is it perhaps simply a matter of mouthing certain words that we don’t really believe in? Where is the disconnect between our thinking and our living?

We will all proceed in our own distinct ways, so there can be no blanket statements here. Yet I see my fellows, and while a certain bunch are just liars, plain and simple, others are sincerely confused.

It becomes no better when a conscience is constantly in struggle with the pressures of the world. The conflict is, in my own experience, the deepest and most critical within everything I see around me. Shall I define myself by who I truly am within myself, or by what I think I possess outside of myself?

I was raised as a Roman Catholic, thankfully in a manner that stressed love over conformity, willing commitment over blind rules, but in the many years I have heard people preach to me about the riches of spirit over the riches of money, I see them doing the complete opposite.

My wife and I have worked for the Church, in one way or another, directly or indirectly, for most of our adult lives. We worry that we are being too cynical, but we always seem to return to the recognition that far too many people who say they are “Christian” are concerned with something quite different. God and neighbor, religion and morality, are for them a means to the end of worldly convenience and profit.

I could write a whole book, quite a long one at that, about all our experiences, and how these experiences made us question ourselves. It would be quite a dreary book, however, and while those who already choose to know would have no need to read it, those who choose not to know would never even bother with it.

The only way I can explain the obstacle, and only from my own thinking, is based on two aspects.

First, we tend to love what is more immediate over what is more ultimate. I think it will make me feel better now instead of later, and I think it is better because it tugs at the brutal power of my gut, instead of the subtle power of my understanding.

Second, we tend to learn that we can get away with lying, both to others and to ourselves. I see others do it all the time, and they seem to succeed. So why shouldn’t I do the same? Lies end up being quite cheap.

I will often put on one face for the world, even as I am despondent inside. My disconnect comes from somehow believing that the former can smother the latter. Yet what I proudly say is mine, is hardly mine at all. 

Written in 9/2015