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Sisyphus and Bright Sadness

Mar 27

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I'm a busy person. Too busy, really, and often prone to plunge forward in life with a Sisyphean list of to-dos, virtually impossible to complete today, this week, or perhaps in the next month. I push my giant boulder of tasks up the slope only to watch it slip back down. For example, I've put off writing this article for weeks, so l've got to get it done today or be squashed by that boulder!


And into my life sneaks Lent.


A couple of months ago the Atlantic published an article suggesting embracing "hopeful pessimism" and used the example of the Greek king Sisyphus, condemned by the gods to roll a boulder up a slope for all eternity only to have it slip back down, never reaching the summit.


The article, backed by quotes by philosophers such as Camus and Mara van der Lugt, suggests that true joy comes from pursuing a goal only because it is good, and not because we hope for a particular outcome or success. Should I just keep pushing that boulder up the slope of my life only because it is "good," avoiding an unrealistic outcome or triumph?


As I read the Atlantic article the strange and beautiful concept of Orthodox "bright sadness" popped into my brain. In Fr. Alexander Schmemann's "Great Lent: Journey to Pascha," this venerable priest of blessed memory encapsulates bright sadness right in the title of his book. Great Lent and Holy Week include the most heart-rending hymnology of the Church year, and yet are part of the ever-increasing brightness that comes with journeying closer to Pascha.


Fr. Alexander writes how even the lengthening Lenten services, the mournful tones, and the darkness all lead us to peace and joy that comes from knowing that the summit of Pascha is on the horizon, growing more luminous with each week.

Sad brightness: the sadness of my exile, of the waste I have made of my life; the brightness of God's presence and forgiveness, the joy of the recovered desire for God, the peace of the recovered home. Such is the climate of Lenten worship; such is its first and general impact on my soul. —Fr. Alexander Schmemann, Great Lent*

Fr. Alexander uses the word "recovered" twice in the above quote—the recovered desire for God and the peace of the recovered home. This reminds me of the Lenten preparation Sundays.


First off Zaccheus, who shows us the path to recovering our desire for God by so desiring to see Jesus that he climbed up a tree to see Him. Secondly, the Sunday of the Prodigal Son, who recovered his home by returning to the arms of a loving and forgiving father. What a climate of hope this gives us!


My task-boulder is still there and will, most likely, remain until my life is over. Without keeping our focus on the Ultimate Goal—that climate of hope of which Fr. Alexander speaks—| don't think the aforementioned "hopeful pessimism" fits neatly into the Orthodox ethos, nor does it embrace the profound nature of bright sadness.


I want to keep pushing my boulder of responsibilities up the slope of my life not just because it is good to do so, but because it will ultimately lead to the Summit of All Goodness, the glorious dawn of the Resurrection when true hope and joy is

complete.


Pascha is on the horizon, friends!


 

*Fr. Alexander. (1974). Great Lent (revised edition), p. 33.

Originally published in the Holy Apostles E-bulletin. Subscribe here.

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