Two thoughts from a reading in “My Life in Christ.” There are probably many more than two thoughts to be had, but two may be all I have time for. Which is sort of the point, eventually.

Unfortunate is he who immoderately loves the comforts of life, and has surrounded himself with all possible comforts. He will shun every discomfort; he will become effeminate and unaccustomed to patience, whilst the life of a Christian is a rough way, a cross, requiring great patience. Therefore, Christian wrestler, do not love the comforts of this world, but love Christ, the cross-bearer.

Now, I know that St. John of Kronstadt can sound like a real drag sometimes, as if he recommends getting up at dawn and poking yourself with a stick all day just so you don’t lose focus. But consider how extremely far the world has gone in the other direction. It may sound extreme to speak so harshly about life’s comforts, but how many people do we encounter every day who have acquired such a horror of discomfort that they are in danger of losing their mind?

The answer for me is: a lot. I know a lot of people like that. Some that I’ve known really are functional insane people. Their own list of requirements for not feeling any pain has grown to the degree that they abhor most of what is normal, simple and enjoyable in life. There is no decision for them so small that it can’t be complicated by a “special order,” by the need to customize it to offer them what they used to just want, but now realize they need. If you’re around them very long you realize something: your comfort zone can become your prison. These people are rarely happy with all their comfort; in fact, they’re usually fighting a kind of desperation and not fighting it very successfully. I think any of us have the seeds of this in us. The little steps that begin with “I’d prefer not to” (like Bartleby the Scrivener, for you Melville fans) to “I hate to” to “I can’t” are small and the way can look deceptively … comfortable.

From the same reading …

Unfortunate is he who loves haste — he will meet with a multitude of obstacles, with thousands of unpleasantnesses and inward restriction through his haste, and he will have many causes for irritation.

These days, when my work causes me to spend long hours in front of a computer, this kind of thing seems apparent on an hourly basis. Computers bring with them a unique kind of frustration that tests your good will all the time. They are SO smart that they can do thousands of calculations a second with perfect accuracy. They are SO stupid that you can’t tell them “Stop” or “Go,” or ask them what they want. They’re fast in a way that we didn’t even know existed 100 years ago, perfect in a way that no human being can ever be perfect, but with their lightning-fast accuracy comes a challenge for us slow, inaccurate humans. Computers and all the other technological wonders we can’t live without can frame our lives and change what we expect out of life itself. How fast should we be able to cross town or get our groceries? How much time do we really need to, you know, just chill out, just veg.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m as fond of chilling and vegging as the next man. But St. John doesn’t ask what we’re fond of, he asks what we love. When he said back here that some people make their whole life into a jest, it wasn’t amusement as such that he was denouncing but the obsession with it that we are tempted to (which is why I didn’t mind running a little otter video in my next post). We don’t seem to be able to be very moderate these days. But then, it may not be a recent problem. The Lord told us that we can’t serve two masters, and at the time He said it, the concepts of “comfort zone” and “technology” were both a long way off.