Obey your Master...

In a previous post I wrote that the Metallica song "Master of Puppets" reminds me of Strauss's view of tragedy as well as the parable of the Prodigal Son.

Simply put, Strauss wrote that tragedy is what happens when he lives as he should not; the unphilosophical life will lead to pain. Comedy is what happens when one stumbles upon a good consequence even though one lives such an unphilosophical life; the comic element comes because the good outcome is a lucky fluke.

This has parallels to religious life. I don't think one can be fully happy and fulfilled when living incorrectly. Man has two created natures, one physical and the other spiritual. His physical nature is such that living contrary to it (getting injured, eating poison, etc.) will result in, shall we say, a less-than-optimal existence. Similarly, his spiritual nature is such that living contrary to it (wallowing in vice, etc.) will result in, shall we say, a less-than-optimal existence.

I didn't always think so. A made a point similar to this about three years ago and Eve asked me a question: why do the people who live the best sorts of lives--saintly people incredibly close to God--seem to be the most miserable? I didn't have an answer to that.

I do now, and it relates to the Prodigal Son (I should hope that you are al familiar with the story; if not read it here; if you ever get a chance to learn Greek do so, by the way, because the original beats any translation I've ever looked at).

What so powerful about this parable is how far the son fell. The son of a rich man, he ended up desiring to eat from a pig's trough

This is an amazing way to look at sin. He was living a good life in his Father's House and decided, of his own free will, to leave. The consequences were miserable. His act of free will trapped him. Whereas at Home he could move freely, in the world he was trapped, a victim of starvation.

Yet he still would (or could?) not go home. He was, of course, well aware of the riches that awaited him at his Father's Table, yet he hungered for the trough, for the repulsive filth pigs buried their snouts in.

This is one of those fundamental insights unique to Christianity, an idea that adds a deeper layer of tragedy to Strauss's understanding. Yes, living a disordered life is tragic, but the real tragedy is that we cannot leave that life. We can literally be eating of the husks and still not budge. It was bad enough that Oedipus was too blind to see the harm he was doing to himself and his nation; what's worse is that, even if he could see, he would not have had the strength to stop (this is where Christian and classical understandings of heroism need to part ways).

Our free will is not thoroughly extinguished, though. We can have moments of clarity. The Prodigal Son did come to his senses. The protagonist in "Master of Puppets" did realize that he was a slave to the drug. The difference, though, is that the Father spotted his Prodigal Son and ran out to him, while the man fought on his own and failed. The Old Oligarch put this well here, where he compared our wills to boulders (trust me, it's apt).

This is the answer to Eve's question, why the good can appear to be so miserable. It's also why, at least according to my experience, the times before and after sacraments like Confession and Holy Communion can be so difficult. Christianity can explain man's lack of power and control, the apparently contradictory act of repeatedly doing what you know to be wrong and disgusting. Good people, who are constantly in a state of repentance (based on the chronicles of saints that I've read it seems they keep failing like the rest of us, but they get back on the bike and try again unlike most people's resignation to sin) have an acute awareness of the power of sin. They are quite happy--as I'm at my happiest when my sacramental life is at its strongest--while simultaneously having a knowledge that can weigh heavily on them, a knowledge of the weakness that they and the rest of mankind is so vulnerable to.

(One last point: those who strive hardest to live a good life are also the first targets of the forces of evil. That's not just simple superstition. I've seen enough in my short life to trust the chronicles of monks who claim to have done battle, so to speak, with Satan; that's actually why I wanted to be a monk for a time.)