We spend our entire life in the present. It is the only time that really exists. The past is no more except as a series of phantasms in our minds; the future has not yet come to be. Yet, most of us have a hard time living in the present; instead much of our time is spent dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. Parts 2 and 3 of this issue reflect on how we live in the present. Here we focus in on the two kinds of activities that fill our time: work and leisure.
Because most of our waking hours are spent in work, we begin with some instructions on labour. First, St. Paul warns us against idleness and gossip. It makes no difference whether we live in the end times or not; we are to keep ourselves busy lest the devil ensnare us. John Chrysostom then instructs us to spend our time in good works in order to contribute, certainly, to our own salvation—for which we must have confidence in God—but more so that we may contribute to the good of the community. We labour not for ourselves but for the community in which we live; it is for the sake of others that we must be diligent about our work. As for those who waste their time in gossip and do not contribute to the common good, they should not eat; nevertheless, the rest of us should not neglect to share our goods with those who have not, even if it is because they wasted their time in idleness. Finally, we hear from the Rule of St. Benedict some instructions for monks on when and how they are to carry out their work as a contribution to the good of the religious community.
Next, we move into the realm of leisure, of rest, of play. Josef Pieper, in his work Leisure: The Basis of Culture, notes that the highest activity man can engage in is not work but leisure, which he takes to refer especially to contemplation. Leo XIII seems to agree as he teaches that one of the primary needs of the labourer is his spiritual and mental care. The labourer must have time for bodily and spiritual rest, and for the practice of religion. Bernard of Clairvaux likewise instructs his friend Pope Eugenius to take sufficient time away from his busyness to recollect himself and contemplate.
In our final piece, we turn to the classic tale of Our Lady’s Tumbler, an uneducated performer who entered the monastery of Clairvaux and, unable to sing the psalms or say the prayers, devoted himself to tumbling for Our Lady before her altar in the crypt. The story reminds us that God takes delight in even our play when it is done for him. Romano Guardini—in his famous work The Spirit of the Liturgy, which inspired Joseph Ratzinger’s volume of the same name—famously described the liturgy in terms of play; it is as though we make fools of ourselves performing the ceremonies and rituals in which God takes His delight. The tumbler’s private devotion in the crypt embodies this idea.
Heraclitus once said that “Time is a child playing draughts.” There is certainly something playful about time, about creation, about the liturgy. There is something playful about human nature. We are the only creatures with the capacity to laugh. Perhaps we should take more time in the present to laugh and to play, to tumble for Our Lady or to be fools for Our Lord.
There is much that we wanted to include in this part of the issue, but we were especially constrained by copyrights and the busy schedules of some of our authors. One book in particular I would like to recommend to our readers: Josef Pieper’s small volume Leisure: The Basis of Culture, published by Ignatius Press. While it is a work of philosophy, what it contains is well worth contemplating. You can find a link to the book here.
One last element will need to be addressed when discussing the present moment, namely, the sanctification of time. Because of the importance of this topic, we have made it the subject of part 3.
Now, let’s get to work.
Aaron P. Debusschere
Editor
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