Natural Man, Religious Man and the recession
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There’s an essay called “Born to Suffer” in monastic newsletter I get called ‘The Veil,’ (monastery listing HERE) and in it I read:
Our sufferings come in many forms, both collectively as a people or a nation, and also as individuals. As a nation/people, we do not have to look far into the past to see the sufferings endured by those under the Communist yoke or Turkish oppression. The Church in countries who recently were freed from Communism is experiencing renewed vigor and enthusiasm, in many ways having been purified through those horrible years of oppression. Our own nation right now is going through an ‘economic crisis’ which is affecting everyone in one way or another, but perhaps this crisis will help to cure us of our greed as a nation.
I’m glad to hear someone say that. I’ve had that thought many times, but been afraid to say it out loud for fear that I’ll sound either insane or insensitive.
And to be sure, I know people who don’t know how they’ll be able to keep a roof over their heads, and I don’t want to make things worse by reaching for some sound-byte of holiness to add to their anxiety.
But … I’m glad that someone was good enough and honest enough to say it, because I think it may turn out to be true. As a nation, I think this time of economic famine might be a gift for us. But only if we let it do its work, if we let it change us. Only if we can avoid some natural impulses and even some righteous-sounding platitudes.
To that end, I realize that this is one of those times when I have to reject the narrative of politicians and pundits of all stripes. They have their job to do, but believing in them right now comes at a cost. Great and small, they all represent the voice of Natural Man, saying, “I rule myself. I make bad things go away. I take what I need.” Those who are in power will do whatever they do, and I pray that God gives them wisdom and discernment. But as far as getting caught up in the panic that is incited every day, it doesn’t appear possible. Or profitable, seeing the conventional wisdom seems to be that the only acceptable outcome is for us to bring about immediate reversal of our fortunes (no matter what the cost to future generations) and go on living in a childish state of prosperity without accountability forever. This is just madness. It doesn’t reflect the truth of human history or meet the test of an Orthodox sense of what our life on earth is about.
And on the other hand, it’s not like it’s an easy thing to strike the right balance, even if we turn away from Natural Man. Waiting just next to him is Religious Man, and he’s not much better. “If man was born to suffering as the sparks fly upwards, then God wants us to suffer and blessed be the name of the Lord. God is cruel and awful, but we all deserve it, so we need to caper about as if we’re happy when we’re miserable, because that’s what God wants, amen.” This is just Natural Man with a different hat. It’s just a lack of real belief that poses as piety. Of the things that we’re meant to take away from the Christian understanding of suffering, I can’t see any teaching justifying the idea that God is some brutal dictator who hates it when we cry.
The right way is something I can glimpse, but struggle with constantly. The answer isn’t in fretting and believing in our own strength and selfish schemes, but it’s also not in an emotional equivalent to ritual disembowelment.
The right way may be Job’s way. Early in the book of Job, he has a great statement of faith. As time goes on, he has to live in his agony, and then there’s dialogue that goes on and on and on. (“Why me? Why did God let me be born? Why do bad people thrive? Why is God treating me so unjustly?”) with his counselors providing all the weakest sort of religious answers to counter his cries from the heart. Both these things are honest responses from Job, but there’s something lacking.
There’s a turn at the end of the book that’s quick and subtle and yet so absolute that it resonates still, all these centuries after it was written. Job has blessed God for his suffering in 1:20, he has queried and cried and cursed his lot for the next 40 chapters. You would think he had said it all, and I have thought many times that I never would’ve made it so long without taking refuge in the company of either Natural Man (“This is a mistake! I better steal something. I’m entitled to my rage because I’m sick and I hurt, and if I have to make other people suffer, that’s tough.”) or Religious Man (“I know that I’m a righteous person so God is actually being unrighteous with me, but I will turn my heart to stone to show how accepting I am so He’ll make it go away.”).
How much harder to let it in? To say neither that we are undeserving of suffering or to think that suffering defines us, but that it is real, but that God is still the ultimate reality. I’ve heard a commentator say that the difference that happens to Job in chapter 42 is that he finally neither invents myths about his suffering nor rails against it. He knows the truth of the suffering and then … takes it from God’s hand. That’s the profound moment that the whole book is about. What it takes to bring even a good man to this place is enough for us to wonder what it would take for us ever to get there.
A recession? Or worse? It may be. How much has our generation — even we good church-goers — thrown in our lot with the world and believed that the comfortable life was the good life? If the love of mammon is now to be revealed as a false god which actually brings us neither comfort nor goodness, will we ever really come to the point where both Natural Man and Religious Man abandon us? That is the most frightening, most naked point we ever come to — knowing ourselves truly and deciding whether we want to know God truly or not. Can we come to Job’s point of crisis and choose wisely?
We may all get to find out.
Related posts:
- NYT news flash: There are religious people out there!
- Oprah and her religious beliefs feelings
- Prayer: wonder and despair
- Beginnings and The Big Finale
- Spending our way out of the recession


2 Responses and Counting...
Sobering post, Grace. Can any of us truly say with St. Paul, “I have learned to be content in whatever state I am in, whether in riches or poverty.…” without having to actually experience them. We have the illusion we’ll, like Job, accept both blessing and adversity from God for our spiritual growth but our definition of adversity is a long wait at Outback I’m afraid.
The long wait at Outback: LOL. Boy, do I hear that. I feel constantly aware of my limitations. And though all the Orthodox reading from the fathers and the lives of the saints is still the right thing to do, I can’t help but notice how it’s given me a better quality of lip service — very correct and holy-sounding. Good thing Lent is coming, huh? Nothing like having to actually DO something to put all those pious words to the test.