But just as we take on faith such estimates of values, so let us take on the faith of the people this truth, that nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart.
This phrase will be echoed by all cities, and by all races, even those from savage countries. Upon this point good and bad will agree. Some praise pleasure, some prefer toil; some say that pain is the greatest of evils, some say it is no evil at all; some will include riches in the Supreme Good, others will say that their discovery meant harm to the human race, and that none is richer than he to whom Fortune has found nothing to give.
Amid all this diversity of opinion all men will yet with one voice, as the saying is, vote “aye” to the proposition that thanks should be returned to those who have deserved well of us.
On this question the common herd, rebellious as they are, will all agree, but at present we keep paying back injuries instead of benefits, and the primary reason why a man is ungrateful is that he has found it impossible to be grateful enough.
Our madness has gone to such lengths that it is a very dangerous thing to confer great benefits upon a person; for just because he thinks it shameful not to repay, so he would have none left alive whom he should repay.
“Keep for yourself what you have received; I do not ask it back; I do not demand it. Let it be safe to have conferred a favor.” There is no worse hatred than that which springs from shame at the desecration of a benefit. Farewell.
This phrase will be echoed by all cities, and by all races, even those from savage countries. Upon this point good and bad will agree. Some praise pleasure, some prefer toil; some say that pain is the greatest of evils, some say it is no evil at all; some will include riches in the Supreme Good, others will say that their discovery meant harm to the human race, and that none is richer than he to whom Fortune has found nothing to give.
Amid all this diversity of opinion all men will yet with one voice, as the saying is, vote “aye” to the proposition that thanks should be returned to those who have deserved well of us.
On this question the common herd, rebellious as they are, will all agree, but at present we keep paying back injuries instead of benefits, and the primary reason why a man is ungrateful is that he has found it impossible to be grateful enough.
Our madness has gone to such lengths that it is a very dangerous thing to confer great benefits upon a person; for just because he thinks it shameful not to repay, so he would have none left alive whom he should repay.
“Keep for yourself what you have received; I do not ask it back; I do not demand it. Let it be safe to have conferred a favor.” There is no worse hatred than that which springs from shame at the desecration of a benefit. Farewell.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 81
I was a bit confused upon first reading the conclusion to this letter, since I couldn’t make sense of the claim that everyone in the whole wide world reveres gratitude. If I begin to list all the completely self-absorbed people I have known over the years, I run the grave risk of triggering my cynicism, which in turn feeds my melancholy, so I will only say that I am deeply suspicious.
Looking more carefully, however, I consider the vast disconnect between our theory and our practice, and the clever way we try to twist the rules into something more advantageous. The ideal of being thankful does indeed sound noble, especially when it’s the other guy who is indebted to us. But once the roles are reversed, as soon as we sense an obligation to that other guy, we feel extremely uncomfortable, squirming to find a way out.
Even the most selfish folks will concede that it is right to be grateful for a benefit; at some level, we all know to return a favor, however far our habits have led us astray. We are in awe when we see such a purity of purpose, much as the biggest scoundrel gets teary-eyed when they play the national anthem. On the inside, there is often shame for not living up to the proper standards.
Yet we run into a problem when the rubber meets the road, for the giving of benefits provides us with the illusion of importance, while the receiving of benefits leaves us with an appearance of weakness. You should not be surprised when the bigwig likes to lord it over you, and he will also do his best to erase any evidence that he is dependent on you.
Would he even kill you to cover the tracks? If it doesn’t tarnish his image or land him behind bars, I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m afraid I know all too well how vicious people can be, but I also know how virtuous people can be, so I turn to the inspiration of the latter when I am faced with any evidence of the former. I choose to find comfort in the man who isn’t afraid to reach out his hand, to bow down, to feel small, because he understands why his humility and charity are what actually make him big.
I think of a wonderful painting by Norman Rockwell, Saying Grace, where the customers at a diner are taken aback by the mealtime prayers of a woman and a boy. They all recognize how fitting it is to give thanks to God, though they struggle to do the same themselves. Like most any work by Rockwell, it offers a fine lesson for every setting.
I was a bit confused upon first reading the conclusion to this letter, since I couldn’t make sense of the claim that everyone in the whole wide world reveres gratitude. If I begin to list all the completely self-absorbed people I have known over the years, I run the grave risk of triggering my cynicism, which in turn feeds my melancholy, so I will only say that I am deeply suspicious.
Looking more carefully, however, I consider the vast disconnect between our theory and our practice, and the clever way we try to twist the rules into something more advantageous. The ideal of being thankful does indeed sound noble, especially when it’s the other guy who is indebted to us. But once the roles are reversed, as soon as we sense an obligation to that other guy, we feel extremely uncomfortable, squirming to find a way out.
Even the most selfish folks will concede that it is right to be grateful for a benefit; at some level, we all know to return a favor, however far our habits have led us astray. We are in awe when we see such a purity of purpose, much as the biggest scoundrel gets teary-eyed when they play the national anthem. On the inside, there is often shame for not living up to the proper standards.
Yet we run into a problem when the rubber meets the road, for the giving of benefits provides us with the illusion of importance, while the receiving of benefits leaves us with an appearance of weakness. You should not be surprised when the bigwig likes to lord it over you, and he will also do his best to erase any evidence that he is dependent on you.
Would he even kill you to cover the tracks? If it doesn’t tarnish his image or land him behind bars, I wouldn’t put it past him. I’m afraid I know all too well how vicious people can be, but I also know how virtuous people can be, so I turn to the inspiration of the latter when I am faced with any evidence of the former. I choose to find comfort in the man who isn’t afraid to reach out his hand, to bow down, to feel small, because he understands why his humility and charity are what actually make him big.
I think of a wonderful painting by Norman Rockwell, Saying Grace, where the customers at a diner are taken aback by the mealtime prayers of a woman and a boy. They all recognize how fitting it is to give thanks to God, though they struggle to do the same themselves. Like most any work by Rockwell, it offers a fine lesson for every setting.
—Reflection written in 12/2013
IMAGE: Norman Rockwell, Saying Grace (1951)
No comments:
Post a Comment