Donald DeMarco:
There could hardly be a greater disparity concerning the meaning of life than going to church and watching television. There is a TV commercial for step-in shoes that relieve people of the burden of using their hands. A proud citizen of this world of comfort rebukes another by saying, “Are you still using your hands?” The person who is “with-it” finds new modes of comfort while ridiculing his neighbour who is not keeping pace with the latest technology that frees him from yet another moment of discomfort. When a person goes to church, on the other hand, his eyes are drawn to something that is dominant behind the altar — the Cross. It is asking him to be more uncomfortable. It invites him to pick up his Cross daily and follow Christ. It is telling him that sacrifice, and not comfort, places him on the road to salvation.
Fr. Richard Neuhaus, founder of First Things, and a citizen of Canada, reported that Christians in his native land decided to abandon the Cross in favour of the “unencumbered life.” The mark of the new and emancipated Christian will not be love of neighbour, but that he does not need to use his hands in order to get into his shoes. The City of Comfort is not the City of God.
In his classic book, Ideas Have Consequences, Richard Weaver addresses the problem that is bound up with a life of uninterrupted comfort. “Certainly, there is no more innocent-seeming debauchery,” he writes, “than the worship of comfort; and when it is accompanied by a high degree of technological resourcefulness, the difficulty of getting people not to renounce it but merely to see its consequences is staggering.”
These are strong words that add up to a strong message. What could be more innocent-sounding than wanting to be comfortable? Yet, as a lifestyle, it conceals a poison that is deadly if not corrected. We can now order a pizza and a video from the same dealer by the touch of a telephone button. This spares us the burden of having to leave our lounge chair and get them ourselves. There is much money to be made in catering to the desire to be comfortable.
The comfortable life, needless to say, is not universalizable. There must be cadres of hardy souls that labour to assure the elite of their desired comfort. Convenience stores may be convenient for purchasers, but not for the workers. A comfortable life is the privilege of the elite, not the workers.
It is not easy for a person to give up any of his comforts. At the same time, reality keeps breaking in with horrifying episodes of discomfort. There is, inevitably, sickness, infirmity, and death. But for those dedicated to comfort, there is also euthanasia. One’s epitaph might read: “He made enough money to live a comfortable life and, at the end, enjoyed a painless and beautiful death.”
Even thinking can be a cause of discomfort. If we dare to think, with honesty and courage, we could get to despise ourselves. The notorious Adolph Eichmann offers us his solution: “Now that I look back, I realize that a life predicated on being obedient and taking orders is a very comfortable life indeed. Living in such a way reduces to a minimum one’s need to think.” Vladimir Putin cannot imagine a higher goal for his people than a comfortable life: “Our aims are absolutely clear,” he declares. “They are a higher living standard in the country and a secure, free, and comfortable life.”
The person who dedicates his life to comfort finds the demands of others annoying. They are no longer his neighbours. As he sinks deeper into the world, his love for others diminishes. “Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world,” we are told. “If any man loves the world, the charity of the Father is not in him; because all that is in the world is the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, which is not from the Father, but from the world (John 2:15-17).
We do need to live in the world, though we are not of the world. This explains why the Church counsels sacrifice, mortification, and self-discipline. We need to be reminded on a daily basis that the world, with all its enticements, is not our permanent home. An athlete would rather enjoy playing the game than going through tedious training, but he realizes that he will not play well if he does not prepare well. As the Hall of Fame basketball coach John Wooden has stated, “If you are not preparing to win, you are preparing to lose.”
Too much comfort causes us to lose touch with nature. When the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins stated in God’s Grandeur that, “the soil is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod,” he was stating that in being detached from nature, we are at the same time alienated from God. He would not have been interested in step-in shoes for they would symbolize for him a loss of connection with the beautiful world that God has made.
There is much work to be done and much beauty to be created. But this cannot take place without the voluntary acceptance of discomfort. As Richard Weaver has stated, “absorption in ease is one of the most reliable signs of present or impending decay. Why rest now, when there is an eternity of rest that is waiting for us?”
