What do you think would have become of Heracles if there had not been a lion, as in the story, and a hydra and a stag and a boar and unjust and brutal men, whom he drove forth and cleansed the world of them?
What would he have done if there had been nothing of this sort? Is it not plain that he would have wrapped himself up and slept?
No, to begin with he would never have been a Heracles at all, had he slumbered all this life in such ease and luxury; and if by any chance he had been, of what good would he have been?
What use would he have made of his arms and his might and his endurance and noble heart as well, had not he been stimulated and trained by such perils and opportunities?
I may think that a good life should be an easy life, full of amusements and pleasures, where things “go my way”, where Fortune gives me whatever I might want.
I would be sorely mistaken to think in such a way, confusing the life of a man with that of a sponge.
“Yes, I see what you mean! I won’t get anything if I don’t work hard for it! That’s why I’m so motivated to make a name for myself now, so I can get the success and security that will make the rest of my life worth living.”
I’m afraid that’s not quite what I mean either, because then it’s just a matter of making an effort today to acquire gratification tomorrow. The deeper problem is that we focus too much on what we might receive, instead of on how we should act for its own sake. The worth is shifted from the inside to the outside; peace of mind never comes from accumulating any sort of “stuff”.
I have loved stories about heroism since I was a little child, but from very early on I saw that most heroes don’t end up rebuilding the rest of the world to their liking, and that most heroes don’t walk away having won riches and fame. They face frightening obstacles not to collect any rewards, but simply to do what is good. Their courage proceeds from a love of character over a lust for compensation.
Heracles was a larger-than-life figure, though he still had terrible failings and made tragic mistakes, just like any one of us. I was at first impressed by the epic scale of his deeds, and only slowly began to appreciate that there was far more to his greatness than either brute strength or subtle cleverness.
Behind the grandeur of his achievements, there was always the core of a moral challenge: Heracles was constantly struggling to act with justice, to transform a wrong into a right.
In most versions of the story, his Twelve Labors concerned a penance for his misdeeds rather than winning glory. The tale of his death, where he built his own funeral pyre after being treacherously poisoned, is about as noble an example of fortitude as you will ever find.
All the hardships, the battles, the villains, or the monsters were really just opportunities for Heracles to exercise his virtues to the fullest. Had Providence not provided these chances, or had he not chosen to face them with perseverance, his brawn and his brains would have been completely wasted. It was a strength of conviction that made the man.
What would he have done if there had been nothing of this sort? Is it not plain that he would have wrapped himself up and slept?
No, to begin with he would never have been a Heracles at all, had he slumbered all this life in such ease and luxury; and if by any chance he had been, of what good would he have been?
What use would he have made of his arms and his might and his endurance and noble heart as well, had not he been stimulated and trained by such perils and opportunities?
I may think that a good life should be an easy life, full of amusements and pleasures, where things “go my way”, where Fortune gives me whatever I might want.
I would be sorely mistaken to think in such a way, confusing the life of a man with that of a sponge.
“Yes, I see what you mean! I won’t get anything if I don’t work hard for it! That’s why I’m so motivated to make a name for myself now, so I can get the success and security that will make the rest of my life worth living.”
I’m afraid that’s not quite what I mean either, because then it’s just a matter of making an effort today to acquire gratification tomorrow. The deeper problem is that we focus too much on what we might receive, instead of on how we should act for its own sake. The worth is shifted from the inside to the outside; peace of mind never comes from accumulating any sort of “stuff”.
I have loved stories about heroism since I was a little child, but from very early on I saw that most heroes don’t end up rebuilding the rest of the world to their liking, and that most heroes don’t walk away having won riches and fame. They face frightening obstacles not to collect any rewards, but simply to do what is good. Their courage proceeds from a love of character over a lust for compensation.
Heracles was a larger-than-life figure, though he still had terrible failings and made tragic mistakes, just like any one of us. I was at first impressed by the epic scale of his deeds, and only slowly began to appreciate that there was far more to his greatness than either brute strength or subtle cleverness.
Behind the grandeur of his achievements, there was always the core of a moral challenge: Heracles was constantly struggling to act with justice, to transform a wrong into a right.
In most versions of the story, his Twelve Labors concerned a penance for his misdeeds rather than winning glory. The tale of his death, where he built his own funeral pyre after being treacherously poisoned, is about as noble an example of fortitude as you will ever find.
All the hardships, the battles, the villains, or the monsters were really just opportunities for Heracles to exercise his virtues to the fullest. Had Providence not provided these chances, or had he not chosen to face them with perseverance, his brawn and his brains would have been completely wasted. It was a strength of conviction that made the man.
Written in 10/2000
IMAGE: Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules and the Nemean Lion (1634)
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