#interior life
Sleep tends to be the common experience of letting one’s self go, as is the case with all moments of rest (good or bad). Anthropologically (philosophically) speaking, man was made to rest. In this sense, we might say that letting one’s self go is a necessary dimension of being human. But to qualify this act: we are letting ourselves go into what is ultimately good. (Rest in God)
In this way, excessive control of one’s self is actually a type of vice. Metaphorically it would be like the soul imitating a body always tense, always utilising one’s muscles as though to become rigid, and inflexible.
I think this is the point of virtue – that our left hand doesn’t know what our right hand is doing. When we do the good for good reason, habitually it becomes second nature to us. In some cases, to have these virtues is to somewhat not even realise that we have them. They simply flow out of our daily attitudes and acts naturally.
But one who exerts strenuous effort to do some externally good act reveals to others perhaps a fault. Perhaps the good habit isn’t there. Perhaps the externally good action isn’t done for the right reason. It’s like that fakery of a smile plastered on a person’s face that communicates something empty. It’s that cleaning of the outside of a cup, but not the inside.
If doing what is good is latently resented by the amount of energy and difficulties required – it seems empty. I think that’s why sometimes we see people leave the priesthood or seminary or married life or whatever, and end up entering into all sorts of absurd and contrary actions to their vocation. The virtue – the internalisation of chastity or charity, never happened – just the external acts, perhaps white-knuckled.
Sometimes Christ has been described in the spiritual sense to be at rest on the cross. Can we relate? Today if a man on the street spat on your face, would you be more concerned for him? Would it be easy to see him as a brother and not worry about our own ego? This virtue requires no control of impulses, or bridling anger. It’s just the fruit of knowing the poor, and serving them in charity.
To circle back to the original point – we were made for rest. If doing the good is constantly difficult, we might want to ask why. What is preventing the good from becoming second nature to us? Have we perhaps ascribed more meaning to hard work and busyness than we ought to? Are we only doing externally good acts without an interiorly good spirit? Are our good deeds mere external acts, like whitewashed tombs?
Don’t burn out – instead build virtue. Virtue is only understood properly when married to the interior life. Let your whole self go into what is truly good, and there will be less fragility at the sight of a cross. In fact, we may find rest in it.
~ Fr Christopher Pietraszko
