The Chase

9/9/2013

As we're working through Ecclesiastes, I found this passage from Pensees by Blaise Pascal (1660) that really brought out what we've been talking about, “chasing after the wind” as the Teacher puts it.

Hence it comes that play and the society of women, war and high posts, are so sought after. Not that there is in fact any happiness in them, or that men imagine true bliss to consist in money won at play, or in the hare which they hunt; we would not take these as a gift. We do not seek that easy and peaceful lot which permits us to think of our unhappy condition, nor the dangers of war, nor the labour of office, but the bustle which averts these thoughts of ours and amuses us... They do not know that it is the chase, and not the quarry, which they seek. (section 139)

We get a kick out of chasing after things we think will satisfy us. Pascal says we're stupid because we think it is the thing we're chasing that will make us happy, but if we ever catch it, we soon get disappointed with it. We had a dog that used to chase little animals out in the yard, but when she finally found one that was slow enough to catch, she looked around confused and got bored with it. Does any of us have such a house that we never want to improve it, no matter how luxurious? Do we think if we just make those improvements, then we'll be able to sit still and be happy? It's that promise of things being “better” that appeals to us, but we stubbornly (or wisely?) refuse to a reach a state where things are just “good.”

They have a secret instinct which impels them to seek amusement and occupation abroad, and which arises from the sense of their constant unhappiness. They have another secret instinct, a remnant of the greatness of our original nature, which teaches them that happiness in reality consists only in rest and not in stir. And of these two contrary instincts they form within themselves a confused idea, which hides itself from their view in the depths of their soul, inciting them to aim at rest through excitement, and always to fancy that the satisfaction which they have not will come to them, if, by surmounting whatever difficulties confront them, they can thereby open the door to rest.

In short, we seem to know our happiness ultimately comes with rest, but we're not happy so we try to achieve it by pursuing things. There's some sense in this (some, mind you), because the world is not as it should be, subjected to futility, Paul says. We have in scripture this promise of sabbath rest (Hebrews 4), but the world is not restored yet. People talk about heaven sounding boring, I think, because in the present life we have this allergic reaction to sitting still—we're not happy unless we're chasing after something “better,” and we never reach that “good” state. But ultimately the happiness we're created for is not in striving but in rest. I don't think that means we'll be idle in the new creation—I think we'll have plenty to do—but our occupation will come not from feeling stir crazy but from that overflow of creativity and goodness that characterizes God himself.

So what do we do in the mean time? There is plenty that is not right in the world, and so we always have ways we can make things “better.” But we who are in Christ can also begin living in that sabbath rest, that our ultimate happiness is not in our striving but in our status, our identity in Christ. We don't feel the need to chase after the wind; we can be thankful for all that we have knowing our eternal joy is secure. And if we haven't fully received that joy yet, we have at least tasted enough to build our hope on.