Be Content. Be Content.

There is a certain consolation to being a person of faith. Such people live in the certainty – or at least the hope – that  they are created and sustained by a greater power. I count myself among them. So my question is, why do we strive so heartily for mere material things? 

One famous modern mystic wrote this: "There is nothing further to look for except the deepening of this life we already possess. Be content. Be content”

This is ancient wisdom. And a wisdom not necessarily the exclusive domain of the religiously minded.

Roman philosopher Seneca wrote: "It is not the one who has too little, but the one who craves more that is poor." 

And Saint Paul notes in his letter to the early church at Phillipi: “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, to be content." 

There is science behind the mysticism. 

One study linked high religiosity or spirituality with greater life satisfaction, meaning, and psychological well-being, and lower depression and fear of death. 

Another study essentially said if you're secure in being "created and sustained by the divine," you need less “stuff” to steady you against death.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not preaching passivity. “Contentment acts. Complacency watches,” author Carla Gasser tells us. “Contentment chooses. Complacency ignores."

Like so many other facets of our day-to-day actions, contentment itself is a choice. It’s basically a matter of accepting the reality of situations we cannot change – without complaint or resentment.

This is what Seneca was driving at: that wealth is never the measure — the craving is. Contentment isn't the absence of want; it's no longer being ruled by it.

And Paul? He “learned” it. Contentment isn't a state of sloth. It's a skill acquired through hardship (he'd just spoken of his hunger, need, and abasement). This is about as far from lackadaisical as we can get. 

Paul explained how he learned to be content when he wrote his letter to the church at Corinth. In answer to his prayer for relief from the "thorn" that was tormenting him, Paul heard the divine reply: “My grace is sufficient for you.”

Seneca also fleshed out his aphorism in a way that would probably not sit too well with today’s billionaire class: "Do you ask what is the proper limit to wealth? It is, first, to have what is necessary, and second, to have what is enough."   

Let me resolve my own opening questioning of why we strive so heartily for mere material things by quoting C.S. Lewis: “Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you will get neither."