The Boethius Project

Consolation of Philosophy, III

What, then, is the source of true happiness? We get to the heart of the matter in the middle book of the Consolation, as Lady Philosophy guides us through her most complex arguments yet. But the prisoner is ready and eager to discover how to be truly happy.

The Wayfarer Crowned by Happiness from The Table of Cebes, Design based on a woodcut by David Kandel, The Met Museum

  • Can you see a glimmer of light in the midst of the darkness? Can you remember a time a deep conversation with a close friend pulled you back from the brink of despair?

    At the beginning of Book 3 of the Consolation, Boethius tells Lady Philosophy: “You offer such wonderful comfort with both your prose argument and poetry.” Both registers and modes—prose and poetry—complement one another and guide the prisoner out of darkness. One, by helping him reason his way through his predicament, the other by inspiring him to look beyond present circumstance through the power of his imagination. Boethius is beginning to feel better and is eager to learn more. Ah, says Philosophy, if you knew where I was leading you, you’d be even more eager. This is how the topic of Book 3 is introduced: Philosophy is leading him back to the one, true source of all Happiness—beyond the clutches and throes of Fortune and her imaginary wheel. It’s time for a new rhetoric and poetry. The stronger remedies are upon us, and we can expect the conversation to become more deep, even more powerful, and even more challenging. It’s time to slow down and think our way through the middle book and the crux of Philosophy’s argument.

astrosystem from Adobe Stock

  • Have you cleared away the weeds to set a clear path forward? 

    Philosophy invites us to look back upon the path that has been cleared in Books 1 & 2 so the real work can now begin. She compares the prisoner’s mind to a field that must be cleared and tilled before it can be farmed. We’ve rid ourselves of despair. We’ve questioned and hopefully set aside the idea that our lives are governed by fickle Fortune and her Wheel. Now, the road opens up to consider where true Happiness can be found. The bright morning star appears right before dawn to usher in the sun… and that is where we find ourselves at the beginning of Book 3. We’ve caught a glimpse of the light, but the best is yet to come. A good reminder, in our culture of immediacy and distraction, that the journey to true happiness is oftentimes long… and always worthwhile.

L’Inferno/Dante Alighieri; illustrato da Gustavo Doré, fol. NP, Bibliothèque nationale et universitaire de Strasbourg, CD.10.456

  • We all need to hear this a lot: we’re striving for good things. We all want to be happy. Sometimes, we just get lost along the way…

    Philosophy pauses for a moment, looks down, then stares straight into the prisoner’s eyes. We’re supposed to notice and pay attention. This is important stuff. The thing is, she tells the prisoner, all human beings want one thing above all others. That’s why we call it the highest good (or, in Latin, the “summum bonum”). Happiness. That’s what we’re all searching for. And it’s going to take all of Book 3 to help us understand exactly what that means. The other things that distract us — the things we think will make us happy — like wealth, power, high honors, fame, pleasure — aren’t inherently bad in an of themselves. The problems comes when we hold them up as the ultimate answer and key to happiness. That’s when they’ll fail us, because they were never intended to offer us complete fulfillment. Sometimes we might even think combining them will get us where we want to go, but it doesn’t. Somewhere, deep inside, says Philosophy, we all remember that happiness is the thing we’re seeking. But like drunkards, we stumble around and get lost on our way home… (oh, hello Dante and your dark wood!)

A Woman Feeding a Parrot, with a Page by Caspar Netscher, The National Gallery of Art

  • Do you feel trapped in inexplicable ways? What does your soul seek? Look deeper, and you’ll recognize it.

    Think of a bird, maybe a parrot, in a cage. It seems happy enough. It has food and water, perhaps it even gets little sugar treats. It seems to enjoy being spoiled by its master or mistress. But open the cage, and if its wings aren’t clipped, the bird will fly away, says Boethius’s Lady Philosophy, spurred on by its natural urges. The same is true of lions and other wild beasts, tamed by the hands of men. When given the chance, when the chains are removed, they too will run. Tie a sapling down and its trunk will bend to the restraint. But unleash it, and the top of the tree will once more reach for the heavens. Each thing in nature seeks to return to its pre-ordained course. But what of humankind? In this poem, Lady Philosophy invites us to consider how we shackle ourselves in prisons of our own making: jobs, systems, the pursuit of honors and awards, imaginary or very real restraints that make us feel cramped, unaligned, even lost. But if we rid ourselves of these chains, nothing can hold us back…  we, too,  can  fly  once  more.

Miniatures from Boethius, Consolation de philosophie by Coëtivy Master (Henri de Vulcop?), The Getty Museum

  • Can you remember a time when you weren’t worried? 

    Lady Philosophy presses Boethius: she wants him to understand that riches don’t offer the freedom they promise. They’re not inherently bad—that’s not the point. But she wants to go deeper and help him understand the shackles we human beings construct for ourselves. The problem, she guides him to see, is that too often we think things like riches will solve all our wants and take away our worries. But they don’t. So, once we acquire them, we still feel empty and even more jaded. “You were rich once,” she points out. “Did that prevent you from worrying or being anxious that something might go wrong for you?” Boethius finds himself admitting that has never been the case: “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t worried.” Sure, wealth puts food on the table and a roof over our heads. But the point here is that, in our times of great need, we must seek solace elsewhere. Amassing wealth will accomplish something, certainly: piles of wealth. But we must work on other things, too—lest we find ourselves rich and deeply unhappy. Sadly, history has shown time and time again that some of the wealthiest people on earth are also the most lonely. Some even take their own lives. Throughout Book 3 Philosophy is not calling us to be so radical as to give away everything we own… she’s asking us to give up the hold these things perhaps have over our lives, so we feel drawn back to seek out the happiness to which we are called to return, for Nature, she says, lacks for nothing.

The Adoration of the Magi by Gerard David, The Met Museum

  • Are we stockpiling the things that matter?

    As Boethius concedes the limitations, and even constraints, of wealth, Lady Philosophy reminds him that it can also serve as a distraction from amassing those things which truly matter. She emphasizes that the rich man, with fields aplenty, also has “furrows of care” on his forehead as “he worries about those riches he can’t take with him.” In this moment, she echoes the exhortation of Luke 12:16-21 when Jesus tells of the rich man who builds enormous storehouses for an abundant crop. And yet that night, his life is demanded of him and it is revealed that while he had plenty of material possessions, he was “not wealthy with God.” While wealth can provide benefits, as Lady Philosophy concedes, and can make meeting certain needs easier, we must remain prudent with where we rest our confidence. Do we attend to our interior lives as much as we do to our financials or material goods? Here, Lady Philosophy recalls Boethius, who has lost all the wealth he ever acquired and is about to lose his life as well, and us the readers to those treasures that cannot be stolen, rust, or taken away. If we steward these values and virtues well, they are the treasures we take with us when our lives are demanded of us.

Thusnelda at the Triumphal Entry of Germanicus into Rome by Karl Theodor von Piloty, The Met Museum

  • Where does true honor lie: the office or the person who holds it?

    All of us, at some point in our lives, seek honor. It can be in the form of a scholarship, a promotion, or a coveted office. We seek the validation and prestige that come with these. But we can focus so much on achieving them that we forget to cultivate what truly matters: virtue. As Lady Philosophy points out, “there is nothing inherently grand about these positions.” They don’t have value in and of themselves but acquire the virtue or vice of the person who receives them. Rather than striving to achieve external honors, what if we hone our gifts and grow in virtue because it is the right thing to do? As Boethius learns, all those external awards can be lost. But the strength of character we forge over a lifetime can sustain us when all else falls away.

Equestrian statue of Nero, seen from behind, the Great Fire of Rome in the background by Adriaen Collaert after Jan van der Straet, called Stradanus, The Met Museum

  • Do we show our true character or do we hide?

    The vanity of Nero could not disguise his inner cruelty and corruption. He decorated his exterior, compiling priceless treasures to flaunt his power. And yet, as in the story of the emperor with no clothes, Nero in reality has nothing. All the praises, prizes, and adornments of the world cannot hide his lack of character. Whether we realize it or not, we cannot hide who we are. The character and virtue we cultivate interiorly will be reflected in how we behave, how others see us, and how we perceive the world. This is a call to reflect on our own actions. Do we act in alignment with who we are or are we duplicitous with how we present ourselves? Have we cultivated a well-formed character or have we created a facade to hide behind? As with Nero, ultimately no one will be fooled by the facade, no matter how spectacular.

The Sword of Damocles by Giuseppe Piattoli, The Met Museum

  • Can the very things we covet ultimately make us unhappy?

    There’s a temptation to think that having everything we want will make us happy and secure. If I have enough money, material goods, friends, and so forth, I will not have to worry and will be able to enjoy all these pleasures. But history and experience say otherwise. Boethius references Cicero’s Tusculan Disputations and the story of the tyrant Dionysius and one of his courtiers, Damocles. Damocles asserted that no one must be happier than Dionysius, who had so much. To which Dionysius responded by decorating a lavish room for Damocles and giving him servants to fulfill every wish. But he also hung a beautiful sword above Damocles’ head by a single horse hair to represent the burden of having so many things that you can lose. Rather than granting comfort or happiness, there is only increased fear of losing what you have accumulated or being betrayed by those closest to you. How easily do we lose sight of those gifts which can truly make us happy in the pursuit of perishable goods? Do we unintentionally hang our own sword of Damocles in the pursuit of riches, power, or material things? Let’s step into the invitation to cultivate our virtue which, as Cicero concludes after the story of Dionysius and Damocles, is what makes a happy life.

Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 5) by James Parker after Richard Westall, The Met Museum

  • Why is power ultimately powerless… even as it destroys us from the inside?

    The pursuit of power can be like any appetite— all consuming, destructive, and overwhelming. Lady Philosophy warns us here that anyone “who hungers for power must learn to tame that dangerous appetite.” The thing is, nothing can truly tame or satiate them. We already know from the prose section immediately preceding the poem that power doesn’t entail security. In fact, it just increases how much we stand to lose. And, if we are willing to compromise who we are and our character in order to acquire power, we are filled with the misery of what we have sacrificed. So many authors revisit this important idea, like Shakespeare in Macbeth. As the play and murder plot and murder of Banquo catch up with the characters, Lady Macbeth can’t wash the metaphorical blood off her own hands… 

    “Out, damned spot, out, I say!”  Her own decision to plot evil in order to achieve power ultimately drives her crazy as she desperately tries to wash her hands clean of the blood of all those she and Macbeth have sacrificed to attain worldly power. Ultimately, this path only leads to death… a good reminder for all of us not to sacrifice everything that truly matters in the name of “power.” 

Fame on a Trophy of Arms by Jean Lepautre and Pierre Mariette II, The National Gallery of Art

  • Why do we covet fame?

    Fame. So many pursue it and want it. To different degrees and for different rationals, for sure, but it’s undeniable that people have chased it for millennia. Look around our modern world with the prevalence of celebrity culture, influencers, and social media’s ability to give an instant platform. We crave the validation and attention of fame. 

    But what is it all for? 

    Lady Philosophy is dismissive of fame. “Popular acclaim is not worth talking about. It comes randomly, for little or no reason, and it never lasts very long.” We can’t control our own fame. We can’t make people talk about us or control what they say. Sowing our hopes and esteem in the opinions of others is a recipe for disappointment, anxiety, and fear. Even a bright shining moment of fame and attention burns out in the light of the next viral meme or reel. And what are we left with? Not even ashes because none of it was real to begin with.

    What if instead we invested that time and energy into cultivating something that lasts and that cannot be taken away? What if instead of seeking attention for our accomplishments, we grow the skills to become the best we can in our pursuits? Perhaps then, we’ll find something more than fame….a sense of fulfillment and the experience of a life well lived.

The Creation, Ms. 101 (2008.3) fol. 7, The Getty Museum

  • Can we even claim fame?

    What shifts when we recognize that we all share a “noble origin”? Lady Philosophy continues her dismissal of fame by reminding us that we all share a common ancestry. God who created the entire universe, including the moon and stars in the heaven, also made each of us. We are made from and for a tremendous divine Love.

    If we all share this beginning, how can any of us claim superiority or greater prominence than another? What can any of us achieve that supersedes the wonders of creation? What can any family line accomplish that outweighs the love that moves the Sun and the other stars?

    The short answer is nothing. We have received it all as a gift and can choose to accept that gift or reject it. And we have the responsibility to steward those gifts we are given. We choose how we make use of the talents and skills that we have. Will we use them to chase a very narrow sense of what the world tells us is desirable? Or will we use them in the service of something greater? This is how we can claim and step into our remarkable shared heritage. This is what endures, beyond the fickleness of fame and fortune.

The Feast of Acheloüs by Peter Paul Rubens and Jan Brueghel the Elder, The Met Museum

  • How can pleasure mislead us?

    Lady Philosophy now turns her attention from fame to the unfulfilling pursuit of bodily pleasure. How often do we over-indulge? Maybe we eat way more than we should and, rather than enjoying our meal, end up feeling sick and unable to savor what we ate? Or drink too much and make ourselves physically sick? Or give into laziness and fail to exercise because we don’t feel like it, only to discover that we have aches and pains from not using our body? Or perhaps in a relationship, we pursue only the physical aspect without cultivating a deeper connection with the other person?

    She argues that if these bodily pleasures “were the door to happiness; then beasts would be happy” as they spend all their time pursuing these bodily desires. But we are something more, as she has reminded Boethius. We are not simply beasts. We have a rationale. We are able to feel these appetites and desires and correctly order them. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy bodily pleasures, but taking them to extremes is where the danger lies. We can enjoy a delicious meal without making ourselves sick. We can engage in purposeful rest without becoming lazy. We can see these temporal goods and experience them in moderation so that they enrich our lives without overwhelming our lives. In this way, they can actually bring us pleasure.

    But we also must remain conscientious that this pleasure is fleeting. It is not the ultimate happiness that we are seeking or desire. That happiness lies elsewhere in something that is more enduring. And once we have this true happiness, it isn’t something that we can overindulge in to the point of sickness. It’s something that can only fulfill us and bring us closer to our true calling and nature.

Bear Stung by Bees by William Holbrook Beard, The National Gallery of Art

  • Have you ever felt the sting of regret? 

    That piercing sensation when you know you’ve done something wrong. The awareness that we’ve gone past the point of moderation, or actively chosen to do wrong, or lied to someone, or deflected blame. All in pursuit of what feels good or avoiding consequences. In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle explains we all have this tendency. We seek pleasure and avoid pain.

    But we can’t escape our own conscience. Lady Philosophy chooses an apt description for regret in the painful sting of an angry bee. We know when we have done wrong. Perhaps not in the moment. Maybe it takes until the nausea sets in after we ate way too much. Maybe it takes until we don’t hear back from a friend we were unkind to. Maybe it takes a few years and we experience a similar harm before we realize how we hurt someone else. In time, there comes the moment we feel the sting and bite of regret. The things we did to get an immediate good feeling, or to at least avoid a bad feeling, come back to haunt us

    Aristotle’s wisdom counsels us in these moments of choosing. When it may seem easier to stay quiet rather than tell a friend a hard truth, honesty and true love for the friend demand stepping into that uncomfortable space. When we feel that offering a hand to someone would be too time consuming, too much work, or inconvenient and yet we choose to extend that help. When we see injustice happening and no one standing up for fear of repercussions and we choose to stand beside someone in solidarity.

    The virtuous choice to make may not always make us comfortable or bring immediate pleasure. In fact, in a world where many choose to avoid pain and focus only on pleasure, deciding to do otherwise often puts us in uncomfortable situations. But who we are is defined in those moments. The virtue we cultivate when we willingly engage the discomfort in pursuit of doing what’s right builds a fortitude and strength that can weather anything. While the moments of compromise will always bring about the sting of remorse and guilt. How can we lean into these invitations to grow in virtue?

Philosophy Enthroned by Virgil Solis, The Met Museum

  • What is happiness not? 

    Lady Philosophy wraps up her discussion of what happiness is not. She reviews the various temptations we often pursue, mistaking them for happiness: wealth, honors, power, fame, and pleasure.

    Each of these are limited and finite. We acquire money from other people and then must protect what we accumulate, fearful of thieves. Honor can only be bestowed from an external source and thus cannot remain with  us, but can be easily revoked. Power is treacherous to gain and then leaves us with plentiful enemies and the threat of betrayal to sweat over. Fame is fleeting and futile, subject to the whims of others and ultimately empty. Pleasure ensnares us to our desires, robbing us of our reason that makes us human.

    The greatest feats of humankind cannot endure without deterioration. The fastest, strongest, most beautiful people will fade from sickness or age. The most intelligent, perceptive minds cannot possibly encompass the entire majesty of the universe. The greatest reputations will have limitations either from the weight of time or the reach of distance.

    It can feel a little alarming that all these things we chase after are so thoroughly taken apart by Lady Philosophy. But she does this to remind Boethius, and us, that these fleeting pursuits aren’t the source of our happiness. Which is such a relief! There is something else  that lasts, that can’t be taken away or worn away, and that can be a sure foundation regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in. And soon, she will unpack what that something truly is.

A Blind Man (The Wayfarers) by Frederick Walker, The Met Museum

  • How do we lose the right path?

    As she transitions from what happiness is not to what happiness truly is, Lady Philosophy laments “how blind are men who stumble along the wrong path!” 

    Just as we may pursue wealth, believing it will bring happiness, Lady Philosophy says it is like those who look to harvest gems and gold from trees. Or as we may chase after fame and honors, elusive things that we can never truly own, she says it is like those who throw out a fishing net atop a mountain. It’s nonsensical.

    We have the temptation to focus on transient goods, hoping they will grant us the happiness we crave. We may hone in on a specific role, a job, an award, a publication, a scholarship, an idea and pursue it with all our intensity and vigor. It can be all consuming, blurring our understanding of who we are, tempting us to vice, or helping us rationalize immoral activities. Even in small ways. The small steps and compromises we make along the way to achieve one of these lesser goods can seem invisible in the day to day. Lady Philosophy concludes with the sobering observation that “When they have reached their worthless goals they will come to know how far they went wrong.” Dante will echo this sentiment centuries later as he opens his Divine Comedy with “Midway through the journey of our lives, I found myself in a dark wood, where the true path had been lost to me.” 

    Are we stumbling blindly through life, distracted by the shiny things around us? Are we conscientious of the decisions we make each day and what goal they are ultimately advancing? Can we be intentional about our actions, aware that each one shapes our character for better or worse?

Job in Prayer, Ms. Ludwig IX 5 (83.ML.101), fol. 135 from The Getty Museum

  • How do we begin to find true happiness?

    Lady Philosophy at last smiles! Here, we have reached a critical turning point in the prisoner’s journey and our own. 

    We have delved extensively into the false illusions of happiness the world tempts us with— fame, power, honor, wealth, and pleasure. How each of these in their own way leads us astray, distracts us with false goods, and ultimately leaves us empty.

    Now, we can turn to what true happiness looks like. And Lady Philosophy introduces it by bringing us back to these very same false goods. While each on their own is inadequate to provide the lasting happiness we seek, they have their own part to play in true happiness. That’s why they can distract us. They aren’t inherently bad. But when we prioritize one of them to the exclusion of all else, we start to stray.

    Instead, Lady Philosophy will explore what is this “true and perfect good” we seek. But we cannot begin such an inquiry without some help she warns. We must call upon God to guide this journey or we may be led astray by lesser goods again. Only with His help and guidance can we see through the temptations to that ultimate true happiness we desire.

St. Thecla Praying for the Plague-Stricken by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo from The Met Museum

  • Where do we start to understand true happiness?

    Lady Philosophy’s song is a beautiful petition to God, whom she identifies as the “sole serene goal in which we may rest, satisfied and tranquil.”

    No sooner has she shifted the focus to what true happiness is than she identifies the answer. Of course, as when we unpacked what happiness is not, we still have a long way to go to fully grasp what she means. It’s one thing to say that God is our source and summit that we long to return to. But it’s another to understand the implications this has for our lives. What does this mean and how do we live it out? How can this bring consolation to Boethius as he awaits his impending death?

    Her prayer is clear: God is all encompassing. He created everything, and each of us, out of His own Love. Gave His pattern and order to all of creation. All beauty, all goodness flow from Him. To know the good, the true, and the beautiful, we must know Him.

    This is not something we can unpack alone. We are nearing the point where our reason can’t carry us all the way. And so Lady Philosophy pleads “grant me, o father, that gift by which my mind can rise.” We must lean on both our innate reasoning and now faith to continue the ascent. Only then will we uncover what true happiness is, discern how to attain it, and receive the grace to pursue that end.

The Calling of Saint Matthew by Giovanni Battista Caracciolo from The Met Museum

  • What is the perfect good and happiness?

    Boethius agrees that God is full of the most high and perfect good. But Lady Philosophy challenges him: “do you understand fully the implications of what you’ve just agreed to, about the most high God being filled with the perfect good?”

    Boethius concedes he does not in fact understand this. And neither do we.

    Why is it so important to unpack these implications? It seems like a straightforward and simple statement: God is full of the most high and perfect good. Lady Philosophy even says that men understand this naturally as they consider God. So why is she pressing Boethius on this issue?

    Because this is the start of where reason rises to faith. Without understanding the implications of this statement, we risk falling into the trap that something of this world, if pursued enough, will bring us happiness. This very danger of a “will-o-the-wisp” is what Lady Philosophy wants to avoid. The simplicity of the statement Boethius agrees to is the simplicity of Einstein’s relativity equation. Elegant, refined, simple, and only possible from a tremendous understanding of the principles underlying it.

    To help guide Boethius through these underlying principles, Lady Philosophy returns once more to the distractions of power, wealth, fame, honor, and pleasure. She explains how the highest version of all these things are merely categories of the good and not the good themselves. When we achieve the highest good, we will also have obtained the greatest and truest versions of each of power, wealth, fame, honor, and pleasure (which won’t necessarily look like what the world says it will be). But none of these things are themselves the good.

    Our pursuit of these things reveals that we all want the good. We all want happiness. We all want this ultimate end, but we are easily distracted. What this reveals though is something very powerful.

    Because we are pursuing the highest good and happiness, we are pursuing the very source of these. And because God is the source of goodness and happiness, then we are ultimately pursuing God. We are seeking to respond to His invitation to grow closer to Him. Lady Philosophy reminds us that just as when we pursue justice or wisdom, we become more just or more wise, when we pursue God (the highest good and happiness) we become more like God. We become more divine. Which is a quality he delights in our participation in.

    We can think of the moment when Jesus calls the disciple Matthew. Matthew is a tax collector, someone who seems to be pursuing wealth and power at the expense of everything else, including his faith and community. And yet, Jesus calls him. Jesus sees the longing deep within him and knows Matthew has lost sight of where to find the good. And so, Jesus invites him to follow Him and to grow closer to this source. And because of this call and Matthew’s “yes”, we have a great saint and one of the four Gospels today, still changing hearts.

    So why does Lady Philosophy press Boethius on the statement that God is the most high and perfect good and happiness? Because as we have been unpacking throughout the book, all people are trying to obtain the perfect good and happiness. We fall short, get lost, focus on the wrong things, and generally become narrow focused in that pursuit. But, if we realize that by pursuing the summit and source of the good and happiness, we will also obtain the highest levels of all the things we think will bring us happiness (in ways we can’t imagine now), then we can realize our true goal.

    We desire God. We want to respond to His invitation. This is the deepest desire of our hearts. And once we have clarity on this, we can know where to aim our arrow to hit the mark. But it’s not something we can accomplish on our own or find in this world. We’ll continue to unpack this as faith and reason collaborate to bring us greater understanding.

Paradise by Carlo Saraceni from The Met Museum

  • How can we find rest?

    Having unpacked that our greatest desire is for God, Lady Philosophy’s poem now invites us into the rest that comes from this awareness.

    We are like prisoners, slowly breaking free from the bounds that ensnare us. The distractions that keep our minds from lifting to the greater things of God, remaining mired in the temporal goods around us. But when we turn from these, Lady Philosophy promises “here find rest and refuge at last from the pain of your unremitting labors, the only sanctuary there is.”

    She’s echoing St. Augustine’s great exortation in The Confessions. He recognized that God has “formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in thee.”

    We are not made for this world and, because of this, we cannot find true rest and peace within it. What we are seeking cannot be found on earth, no matter what rivers we cross, what caves we mine, or what mountains we climb. This can seem discouraging. If what we truly desire in the depths of our hearts cannot be found here, what is the point?

    It is the freedom and rest that Lady Philosophy extols in this poem. Freedom from the temptations of the world and the fleeting goods it holds that we must endlessly chase after. Freedom to rest in the contemplation of the beauty and goodness of God, His creation, and all He is doing and working in our lives. Freedom that our value, our worth, our meaning is not vanishing and temporary, something we have to constantly hold onto and guard as though it can be stolen.

    We can rest and be at peace with our God. We can lean into His invitation to “come to me, all you who labor and have been burdened, and I will refresh you” (Matthew 11:28). If we cultivate our souls well, we will one day see the “light, brighter than any sun” who made us in love and for love and who desires for us to come home.

Hope published by George Thompson from The Met Museum

  • How do we lean into the greatest good?

    Boethius has come a long way since the beginning of the Consolation. The ministrations of Lady Philosophy are grounding him once more in the enduring truths that can help him weather the storm he is in. He responds to her counsel with enthusiasm as he identifies correctly the end and goal of all things: “either all things are unrelated and left without any shared goal, or, if there is anything toward which all things tend, it would have to be the highest good.”

    God is the greatest and highest good. What Boethius now understands with Lady Philosophy’s help is the broader implications of this conclusion. It grants to all of creation a unity. We all strive to the same end, we all seek the greatest good.

    And this inclination towards striving, or “enduring” as Lady Philosophy says, for the good, is placed within us by Providence as the gift of self love. All of creation wants to endure toward their ultimate good. Even plants and inanimate objects have this tendency toward unity built into their very substance, keeping them not only intact but thriving in their particular niches.

    We are drawn to this unity, drawn to the good, summoned on by the great source of all that is found in God. And so, for all the illusions of division we see in the world, for all the distractions we encounter, we have a great hope. This call is innately within us and something we can respond to if we are aware of it. And, as Boethius will discover, it can become a great source of internal fortitude to withstand any attacks we may suffer. If we only endure in hope.

Flowers by Liang Yuwei from The Met Museum

  • How do we rediscover the seeds of truth?

    Lady Philosophy offers us tremendous hope in her poem. All that we have studied, the truths she has helped Boethius (and us by extension) uncover are not foreign or unknown to us. They are in fact intimately woven into our souls. They are truths that are the root and foundation of who we are made to be.

    This is why Lady Philosophy’s medicines are so liberating to Boethius. Even within a prison cell far from his earthly home, Boethius realizes that his true home, his true identity, is not lost. It is still within him.

    She counsels him that “Whoever with profound contemplation seeks the truth and wants to avoid misleading paths must turn his vision inward, so that his quest may circle back, and, instead of wandering far, seek that treasure stored in his own heart.”

    So often we are distracted by the goods of the world, the shiny rewards we see around us. We clamor for external validation, for awards and recognition, for pleasure, for material goods. Things that we see around us and that draw our focus away from the true good. To rediscover the true good, we must not look to the world around us for fulfillment but within to the treasure of our heart.

    Lady Philosophy concedes that this can be difficult as “dark clouds” of distraction conceal the truth. But that is all they do: conceal. They cannot destroy or remove the “seeds of truth” planted in our hearts. The yearning to grow close to the source of this goodness and be fully united.

    And therefore, just as Boethius can find true freedom within the confines of a cell, we too can recover our calling wherever we are. Whatever challenges we confront or difficulties we face, we are rooted in the good and made for the good. We are born to rise to the source of this good in God. And we can “blossom again” if only we turn back to this source.

Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne from The Los Angeles County Museum of Art

  • Evil is nothing.

    Lady Philosophy has reminded Boethius of the fleeting nature of the false goods we chase: wealth, power, honor, pleasure, and fame. She has helped him define happiness as the unified, self-sufficient, ultimate good. And that this ultimate good is God himself who orders the whole universe.

    Lady Philosophy now advances the argument further. “Evil is nothing, because God cannot do it, and there is nothing he cannot do.”

    Even Boethius is taken aback by this. Evil seems so very real and tangible. Yes, God cannot do evil but Boethius is sitting in a dark, isolated prison cell, stripped of all titles and power, fearing for his family’s safety, unable to resist his own coming execution. Evil appears to not only be real, but even overwhelmingly present right now.

    But Lady Philosophy is not like the Muses from the beginning. She won’t let him wallow or placate him to make him feel better. She will administer the difficult medicines to truly heal his heart, mind, and soul.

    And thanks to her intervention, Boethius has new tools. He doesn’t fall into despair with this surprise as he did at the beginning. In the face of her confusing claim, Boethius retraces the steps of Lady Philosophy’s argument. And, in that process, he reiterates the essential point that “God rule[s] the universe with the tiller of goodness.” This is the key that will turn the Consolation from the discussion of the earthly to that of the divine in the following books.

    We are made and called to become like God. Being made in His image, we aren’t made for earthly things. Our hearts and souls are restless, as St. Augustine says, until they rest in God. In that rest, we become who we were created to be.

    As Boethius experienced firsthand, evil can feel real. But Lady Philosophy calls him to look beyond what we see and experience in this world and to have what the Bible calls “eyes to see.” God is not just at the tiller, He is at the center of everything in the universe. He is love, goodness, and happiness. And He is working all things in that way. Martin Luther King Jr echoes what she’s getting at centuries later when he says that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” To understand Lady Philosophy’s point, we must move beyond the things we see on earth. We must progress to the next phase of her argument and consolation and consider things from a much grander scale. And then, we may find our rest.

Artwork: Orpheus and Eurydice by Jean Raoux from The Getty Museum

  • How do we face loss?

    Orpheus looked back and lost everything.

    In the midst of his grief, he composed songs that had almost Biblical effects. Plants uprooted themselves, the hind lay down with the lion, the punishments of the afterworld momentarily ceased. With his song, he even persuaded Hades to release the love of his life, Eurydice, back from the dead. With his love within reach, he had a simple command to follow: walk forward and do not look back until he was out of the underworld.

    But that is when the greatest tragedy strikes. Moments from the world of the living, Orpheus turns around to check on Eurydice. And she returns forever to the land of the dead, far from his reach.

    Lady Philosophy has carefully guided Boethius this far and knows they have a long way to go still. She tells him “this old and familiar tale is yours, as you make your ascent leading your mind to the light.”

    Like Orpheus, Boethius is grieving the life he once had and the future he had imagined. There is the temptation to turn back, to give in to that loss. So Lady Philosophy encourages Boethius to continue forward on the journey. She has coached him to confront the despair he felt in the beginning, guided him through deep philosophical questions, and feels he is ready to progress. Together they will confront even greater questions and find true consolation for Boethius.

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