The Universal Desire to Be Liked
April 4, 2015
FROM “The Dangers of Human Respect and How to Overcome it,” (1891) by Father Michael B. Buckley:
Those who are influenced by human respect have tongues that utter no sentiments but those which others may applaud; they have ears that watch to catch the floating opinion of the crowd, that their own may be found according to the vulgar standard; they have eyes that see not their own contemptible subserviency, and their own wretched degradation; they have feet that walk not in the ways of God, but follow in the wake of those that insult and deride Him. Shameful servitude! infinitely more degrading than any physical bondage to which poverty or even crime subjects the outcast of society or the victims of the law.
One case, in which human respect most commonly exercises its pernicious influence is, where a man has been in the pursuit of sin for years, and who is now sincerely desirous to return to God, but who is deterred from the work of conversion by the fear that his new conversion of life may excite the ridicule of those with whom he had been associated in his former career of vice. What an insult does this wretched man offer to God by his despicable fears and miserable apprehensions! He knows that he ought to return to God; that, though late his return, yet God receives the sinner at any hour: he knows that sin brings nothing to the soul but disappointment, sorrow, and anguish; that it is better now to brave all difficulties and turn his thoughts heavenward, where alone true peace and comfort are to be found; his mind is made up; farewell sin, welcome God; but he just then remembers how he must forsake his bad companions; how he must not now sit long and drink deep as of old; how the blasphemous exclamations and obscene jest must henceforward be met with a frown instead of a smile; how his penitent air will afford his boon companions an occasion for ribald mirth and sarcastic joking; how he must absent himself from the jovial gathering to pray, or to confess, or to receive the Body of His Lord, and how his absence will be remarked, and many a scurrillous comment greet his return to the festive throng. The temptation is too strong; his self-love is too deeply rooted; he gives up the idea of conversion for some other occasion, which, like the ignis fatuus, always present to his views, but is constantly receding before him; he returns to his old haunts and his old fellow-sinners; he relapses into all his former vices with a renovated zest, and pursues damnation with an energy and zeal that, if turned in the opposite direction, would earn for him a martyr’s crown, and a martyr’s everlasting glory. What an insult does this miserable man offer to God! he prefers the esteem of some few sinful, misguided men to the esteem and friendship of his Great Creator!
— Comments —
Brett Stevens writes:
I really enjoyed “The Universal Desire to Be Liked” mainly for thespin that your title gave it.
The more I go through life, the more I see a singular choice of importance: solipsism versus realism. The solipsist decides that healone is most important, and that the world matters only so long as he
gives notice of it; both Buddhists and American mall-shoppers have this problem. The realist accepts all of life, including its so-called “metaphysical” dimensions, and finds in them an order which he
recognizes is the larger order into which he fits and not vice-versa.
In the excerpt from Father Buckley’s writing, there is both good and bad in my view. He summarizes here:
The temptation is too strong; his self-love is too deeply rooted; he
gives up the idea of conversion for some other occasion, which, like
the ignis fatuus, always present to his views, but is constantly
receding before him; he returns to his old haunts and his old
fellow-sinners; he relapses into all his former vices with a renovated
zest, and pursues damnation with an energy and zeal that, if turned in
the opposite direction, would earn for him a martyr’s crown, and a
martyr’s everlasting glory.
The decision being made here is a man choosing to ignore the inevitable future confrontation with reality in exchange for pleasant distractions in the present.
Where Father Buckley is on point is that he illustrates the choice being made and how vast it is.
Where he is off-point I believe is the choice of the word “martyr.”
It does not make sense to me to divide all of the cosmos into reality and religion; I see them as existing in parallel because both are inherently logical. We do not grasp the logic in God because of our
own failings, not His.
For this reason, I do not believe that people of faith must renounce the world as it stands in a realist assessment. Religion is after all realist, if practiced in a realist manner. What is common sense on
earth is common sense in heaven, because both earth and heaven are created of the same logic which is not some variant and obscure science but merely beyond our ken as mortals to fully see. We can see it in detail, and make (for example) an internal combustion engine using its principles, but for when it is applied in broader circumstance there are simply too many details which must be brought
in line for our computational power, even the smartest among us. (It is also worth noting that the smartest are often the most likely to obsess over a detail in depth, rather than look at an actual big
picture view, and backfill the big-picture view with what they know of a detail, like arrogant doctors and scientists looking at a small amount of data and making broad presumptive statements.) The esoteric interpretation of religion holds that some will understand more than others, which implies that there is an objective and logical object to be understood. For this reason, I think it illogical to divide realistic reading of religion from any other form of realism, unless we become nihilists in the Nietzschean meaning of the word and believe that religion itself is false and we uphold it as wishful thinking.
For this reason, I do not believe that the person giving up worldly pleasures is a “martyr” in any sense. They have simply become more well-informed and more disciplined about reality including its
metaphysical dimension and the burdens thereof. They will be a “martyr” in that they are sacrificing certain pleasures, but in my experience, someone who is addicted to pleasures is pushing back
against knowledge of the divine mostly because it will reveal the emptiness of those pleasures. Alcohol and drugs, gambling and friends, etc. cannot fill the void caused by knowledge of our mortality and the need to find significance purpose as a result.
Other than that small quibble I thoroughly enjoyed the extract and think he has identified the choice before us all that determines the quality of thought and of life we will experience. Keep up the great
work; yours is one of the few blogs (along with Charlton’s) that focuses on matters of the most vital importance.
Laura writes:
Thank you. I am sorry it took me a while to get to your comment.
I think what you are basically saying, if I understand you correctly, is that we must not think of faith as involving a renunciation of the world, but a participation in reality. Well, this is true. But since we are in a fallen state, we must reject much of the world to participate in “reality.”
As far as Buckley’s excerpt goes, a martyr is just someone who experiences pain and suffering in this world. Use of the word does not imply a radical separation between religion and reality but the fact that they are one. There are hundreds of situations the believer faces — various temptations to renounce or marginalize his faith. Does he pass through this jungle with the help of “realism?” No, he passes through it best with disinterested love and the sanctifying graces of the sacraments, which are mysteries.
The highest object of faith is not obedience to God in the hope of eternal rewards. It is disinterested love of God. We have to embrace various forms of martyrdom to love him correctly because though this world is infused with divine wisdom, it is separate and divorced from heaven.
