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Man at Play
Man at Play is a theological and religious interpretation of play and its place in culture and society. Hugo Rahner examines play as a means of participation in the life of God himself—an activity which is both serious and joyous. Aided by the teachings of the Church Fathers and other theologians, philosophers, and poets, Rahner lucidly locates the play of nature within the play of grace. Finding inspiration from Huizinga, Buytendijk, and von Kujawa, Rahner both develops and complements their work with his rich understanding of antiquity and Catholic theology.
154 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1949
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About the author
Hugo Rahner
51 books7 followersHugo Rahner, S.J., Ph.D. (Theology, 1931), D.S.T., was a Jesuit theologian and ecclesiastical historian who served as dean and president of the University of Innsbruck.
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
November 23, 2020
In Man at Play, German theologian and ecclesiastical historian Hugo Rahner offers a concise and impeccably written study of the relationship between play and Christianity, specifically within the ethics and praxis of the Catholic Church. Rahner's resourceful rhetoric appropriately integrates interpretations of the "Fathers of the Church," Greek and contemporary philosophy, and poetry to explain the edifying role of play from a Christian point of view. The author does not limit his analysis to the prescriptive or liturgical aspects of religion, but candidly explores the aesthetics and morality of leisure, relaxation, and dance as parts of a wider spiritual world that seems to reflect the elevated and timeless human desire to connect with a heavenly hereafter. In the last chapter of the book, Rahner recovers the concept of "eutrapelia,"–the Aristotelian mean between "boorishness" and "buffoonery"–a virtue that results in a pleasant disposition and an elegantly humorous demeanor that is essential in the spiritual life of a Christian. Through a precise and beautiful writing style, the text develops its central topic in a way that feels profound and sincere.
December 31, 2023
A good if small academic work. Nevertheless an enjoyable little read with neat observations about God & man, work & play throughout Church & world history. A great sidecar to Josef Pieper's "Leisure: The Basis of Culture."
November 14, 2021
"When he set for the sea its limit,
so that the waters should not transgress his command;
When he fixed the foundations of earth,
then was I beside him as artisan;
I was his delight day by day,
playing before him all the while,
Playing over the whole of his earth,
having my delight with human beings."
-Proverbs 8:29-31 (NABRE)
Thus speaks Wisdom concerning the beginning of creation and the love between the Father and Himself. How can it be that Wisdom, or Logos - later incarnated as Jesus of Nazareth, is described as "playing" by Solomon in this sacred text? What is the meaning of the Word's "playing" for us? And what does this mean for our own human "playing?"
Hugo Rahner explores exactly these questions in what is now regarded as one of the classic books on the "Theology of Play." If the problem of play is not taken from a passage of Scripture such as Proverbs 8, then it arises naturally through philosophical reflection: why did God create the universe? If He created it out of necessity then He wouldn't be God. Also if He created it without some goal then He wouldn't be God, either. Therefore, He must have created it for its own sake; it has no end outside of itself which means it is meaningful in and of itself, exactly as play is.
Play, whether it be dance, drama, painting, sculpture, sports, games, or any other activity which no purpose beyond itself, is done for the love and joy of the thing itself. Rahner's thoroughly researched study tracks the theology of play throughout history, from the pre-Socratics up to the flourishing of scholastic theology in the Middle Ages. Heraclitus said, "The Aeon is a child at play, playing draughts. The kingly rule is as a child's." Plato referred to man as a "Paignion Theou," a plaything of God. Philo wrote "The divine Logos goes circling in his [dance]." This theme of the Aeon/Logos/Creator playing and dancing is widespread. In the earliest Christian thinkers, the theme reached a new profundity in the reflections upon the inter-Trinitarian relationships of Father-Son-Spirit.
If God is playing a game that is meaningful, beautiful, and enjoyable, then our own human existence springs from this play and participates in it; we are called to pattern God's creativity, spontaneity, and skill. Games and playing demonstrate a certain lightness of heart and pleasure in the created order. The truly wise person deeply understands Solomon: "[There is] a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance" (Ecclesiastes 3:4). Rahner is careful to show that this lightness, this ability to play, is not frivolous or empty. It is, however, childlike. The Lord said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3). Children instinctively play. It is their calling. They call us adults back into the joyful play of the Logos who danced and rejoiced before the Father at the moment of creation.
Rahner also gives an overview of the meaning of the sacral dance in religion (pre-Christianity, Judaism and Christianity) and then concludes with a chapter on the virtue of eutrapelia, a "well-turning," that is, "a kind of mobility of the soul, by which a truly cultured person turns to lovely, bright, and relaxing things, without losing himself in them: it is... a spiritual elegance of movement in which his seriousness and moral character can be perceived" (94-95). The exploration of eutrapelia is a suitable conclusion for a study which, like the wisest of persons, does display a lightness of touch, a joy, and ultimately, a magnification of the divine dance of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the mysterious perichoresis - the interpenetration of love, power, and joy that upholds the universe.
so that the waters should not transgress his command;
When he fixed the foundations of earth,
then was I beside him as artisan;
I was his delight day by day,
playing before him all the while,
Playing over the whole of his earth,
having my delight with human beings."
-Proverbs 8:29-31 (NABRE)
Thus speaks Wisdom concerning the beginning of creation and the love between the Father and Himself. How can it be that Wisdom, or Logos - later incarnated as Jesus of Nazareth, is described as "playing" by Solomon in this sacred text? What is the meaning of the Word's "playing" for us? And what does this mean for our own human "playing?"
Hugo Rahner explores exactly these questions in what is now regarded as one of the classic books on the "Theology of Play." If the problem of play is not taken from a passage of Scripture such as Proverbs 8, then it arises naturally through philosophical reflection: why did God create the universe? If He created it out of necessity then He wouldn't be God. Also if He created it without some goal then He wouldn't be God, either. Therefore, He must have created it for its own sake; it has no end outside of itself which means it is meaningful in and of itself, exactly as play is.
Play, whether it be dance, drama, painting, sculpture, sports, games, or any other activity which no purpose beyond itself, is done for the love and joy of the thing itself. Rahner's thoroughly researched study tracks the theology of play throughout history, from the pre-Socratics up to the flourishing of scholastic theology in the Middle Ages. Heraclitus said, "The Aeon is a child at play, playing draughts. The kingly rule is as a child's." Plato referred to man as a "Paignion Theou," a plaything of God. Philo wrote "The divine Logos goes circling in his [dance]." This theme of the Aeon/Logos/Creator playing and dancing is widespread. In the earliest Christian thinkers, the theme reached a new profundity in the reflections upon the inter-Trinitarian relationships of Father-Son-Spirit.
If God is playing a game that is meaningful, beautiful, and enjoyable, then our own human existence springs from this play and participates in it; we are called to pattern God's creativity, spontaneity, and skill. Games and playing demonstrate a certain lightness of heart and pleasure in the created order. The truly wise person deeply understands Solomon: "[There is] a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance" (Ecclesiastes 3:4). Rahner is careful to show that this lightness, this ability to play, is not frivolous or empty. It is, however, childlike. The Lord said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3). Children instinctively play. It is their calling. They call us adults back into the joyful play of the Logos who danced and rejoiced before the Father at the moment of creation.
Rahner also gives an overview of the meaning of the sacral dance in religion (pre-Christianity, Judaism and Christianity) and then concludes with a chapter on the virtue of eutrapelia, a "well-turning," that is, "a kind of mobility of the soul, by which a truly cultured person turns to lovely, bright, and relaxing things, without losing himself in them: it is... a spiritual elegance of movement in which his seriousness and moral character can be perceived" (94-95). The exploration of eutrapelia is a suitable conclusion for a study which, like the wisest of persons, does display a lightness of touch, a joy, and ultimately, a magnification of the divine dance of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the mysterious perichoresis - the interpenetration of love, power, and joy that upholds the universe.
May 10, 2025
Preface
Ong situates Man at Play as a corrective to the modern understanding of freedom, which he characterizes as grim and combative. He contrasts this with an earlier conception of freedom as expressive, spontaneous, and gratuitous, akin to play. Drawing from anthropology, education, and cultural history, Ong contends that play is not opposed to seriousness but constitutes the form of some of the most human activities, including philosophy, politics, art, and science. He identifies even the space race as a kind of ludic reenactment of higher pursuits. Ong frames Rahner’s book as a theological restoration of the insight that creation and redemption are not compelled acts but expressions of divine freedom. In this view, play is the image of true liberty, and the childlike are closest to entering the kingdom of God precisely because they are capable of play.
Introduction
Rahner opens with the classical virtue of eutrapelia, the capacity for well-ordered playfulness, which he connects to Aquinas’ account of wisdom as contemplative play. This virtue is traced to the biblical figure of Divine Wisdom, who “plays always before the face of God” (Prov. 8:30). The subsequent chapters present a theological account of play. Chapter I discusses Deus ludens, the God who creates from joy rather than necessity. Chapter II explores the concept of the anēr spoudogeloios, the grave-merry human who lives between laughter and solemnity. Chapter III presents the Church as a site of grace’s play through liturgy and sacrament. Chapter IV culminates in dance, interpreted as a rehearsal for heavenly harmony. Each section contributes to the overarching thesis that playing well reflects a theological anthropology rooted in joy and freedom.
Chapter I – The Playing of God
This chapter proposes a metaphysical account of creation as divine play. Drawing from Plato, who described man as a plaything of God, Rahner explores philosophical and mythological images of the divine as playful, including Heraclitus’ childlike Aeon and the Platonic Logos shaping the world in delight. These themes converge on the biblical figure of Wisdom rejoicing at creation. Rahner critiques the theological tradition for neglecting these ludic elements and argues that both creation and incarnation stem from God’s perfect freedom. He presents the Logos as the divine child whose play constitutes a meaningful, ordered cosmos. The chapter concludes by asserting that human beings must be understood as participants in this divine play.
Chapter II – The Playing of Man
Rahner presents the human being as a “living plaything,” not in the sense of being manipulated but as one whose vocation is to imitate divine play. He contrasts this figure with both the libertine and the ascetic, arguing instead for the anēr spoudogeloios, the grave-merry man who combines joy and seriousness. This human being is playful not from triviality but from a spiritual understanding of freedom. True playfulness is rooted in the recognition that existence is gratuitous, tragic, and yet joyful. The grave-merry man thus becomes a metaphysical figure who embraces life’s dual nature without collapsing it into despair or denial. His play is a response to the contingency and meaning of existence.
Chapter III – The Playing of the Church
Rahner interprets the Church as the space where the divine game continues through grace. The Incarnation is seen as the deepening of creation’s play, with Christ becoming humanity’s playmate. Drawing on mystical and patristic sources, Rahner describes the Church as Ecclesia ludens, the Church that plays. This play includes bridal metaphors, wedding imagery, and liturgical practices. Rahner emphasizes that the Church’s sacramental and liturgical actions—baptism, Eucharist, procession—are not decorative but constitutive of the divine-human play. These gestures manifest grace in embodied form. The mystic enters this game by surrendering, recognizing that divine play operates through reversal and paradox. Rahner ends this chapter with the image of redeemed life as childlike play in the presence of God.
Chapter IV – The Heavenly Dance
This chapter expands the concept of play into an eschatological framework. Rahner argues that the final end of human life is not work or rest, but dance. He draws from pagan, biblical, and mystical traditions to depict dance as the highest symbol of theological expression. All human play is a rehearsal for a final cosmic harmony in which body and soul are reunited. The movement of the stars, the music of the spheres, and the choreography of angels all become images of this deeper order. The dance is not ornamental but sacramental, expressing in gesture what language cannot. The Risen Christ is described as dancing through the stages of salvation history, and Christian liturgy becomes an imitation of this pattern. Rahner presents historical examples—dancing martyrs, Easter games, and altar boys in Seville—as signs of liturgical longing. The chapter concludes by defining salvation as the restoration of rhythm and play.
Chapter V – Eutrapelia: A Forgotten Virtue
Rahner turns to the classical virtue of eutrapelia as the ethical disposition that enables participation in divine play. Originating in Aristotle and developed by Aquinas, eutrapelia is defined as the mean between buffoonery and boorishness—a graceful capacity for joyful movement. For Aquinas, it is a spiritual tonic that permits the mind to rest. Rahner presents eutrapelia as the personal virtue that corresponds to the cosmic, ecclesial, and eschatological dimensions of play developed in earlier chapters. It allows the individual to live within the divine choreography with fidelity and delight. The grave-merry man of Chapter II reappears here as the exemplar of eutrapelia. The virtue is not marginal to Christian life but essential to its humanism. It sustains the believer in a world marked by toil and hope. Rahner frames eutrapelia as the capacity to move lightly in full awareness of the Cross—neither denying suffering nor being overwhelmed by it—and concludes by calling for its recovery within the Christian moral tradition.
Ong situates Man at Play as a corrective to the modern understanding of freedom, which he characterizes as grim and combative. He contrasts this with an earlier conception of freedom as expressive, spontaneous, and gratuitous, akin to play. Drawing from anthropology, education, and cultural history, Ong contends that play is not opposed to seriousness but constitutes the form of some of the most human activities, including philosophy, politics, art, and science. He identifies even the space race as a kind of ludic reenactment of higher pursuits. Ong frames Rahner’s book as a theological restoration of the insight that creation and redemption are not compelled acts but expressions of divine freedom. In this view, play is the image of true liberty, and the childlike are closest to entering the kingdom of God precisely because they are capable of play.
Introduction
Rahner opens with the classical virtue of eutrapelia, the capacity for well-ordered playfulness, which he connects to Aquinas’ account of wisdom as contemplative play. This virtue is traced to the biblical figure of Divine Wisdom, who “plays always before the face of God” (Prov. 8:30). The subsequent chapters present a theological account of play. Chapter I discusses Deus ludens, the God who creates from joy rather than necessity. Chapter II explores the concept of the anēr spoudogeloios, the grave-merry human who lives between laughter and solemnity. Chapter III presents the Church as a site of grace’s play through liturgy and sacrament. Chapter IV culminates in dance, interpreted as a rehearsal for heavenly harmony. Each section contributes to the overarching thesis that playing well reflects a theological anthropology rooted in joy and freedom.
Chapter I – The Playing of God
This chapter proposes a metaphysical account of creation as divine play. Drawing from Plato, who described man as a plaything of God, Rahner explores philosophical and mythological images of the divine as playful, including Heraclitus’ childlike Aeon and the Platonic Logos shaping the world in delight. These themes converge on the biblical figure of Wisdom rejoicing at creation. Rahner critiques the theological tradition for neglecting these ludic elements and argues that both creation and incarnation stem from God’s perfect freedom. He presents the Logos as the divine child whose play constitutes a meaningful, ordered cosmos. The chapter concludes by asserting that human beings must be understood as participants in this divine play.
Chapter II – The Playing of Man
Rahner presents the human being as a “living plaything,” not in the sense of being manipulated but as one whose vocation is to imitate divine play. He contrasts this figure with both the libertine and the ascetic, arguing instead for the anēr spoudogeloios, the grave-merry man who combines joy and seriousness. This human being is playful not from triviality but from a spiritual understanding of freedom. True playfulness is rooted in the recognition that existence is gratuitous, tragic, and yet joyful. The grave-merry man thus becomes a metaphysical figure who embraces life’s dual nature without collapsing it into despair or denial. His play is a response to the contingency and meaning of existence.
Chapter III – The Playing of the Church
Rahner interprets the Church as the space where the divine game continues through grace. The Incarnation is seen as the deepening of creation’s play, with Christ becoming humanity’s playmate. Drawing on mystical and patristic sources, Rahner describes the Church as Ecclesia ludens, the Church that plays. This play includes bridal metaphors, wedding imagery, and liturgical practices. Rahner emphasizes that the Church’s sacramental and liturgical actions—baptism, Eucharist, procession—are not decorative but constitutive of the divine-human play. These gestures manifest grace in embodied form. The mystic enters this game by surrendering, recognizing that divine play operates through reversal and paradox. Rahner ends this chapter with the image of redeemed life as childlike play in the presence of God.
Chapter IV – The Heavenly Dance
This chapter expands the concept of play into an eschatological framework. Rahner argues that the final end of human life is not work or rest, but dance. He draws from pagan, biblical, and mystical traditions to depict dance as the highest symbol of theological expression. All human play is a rehearsal for a final cosmic harmony in which body and soul are reunited. The movement of the stars, the music of the spheres, and the choreography of angels all become images of this deeper order. The dance is not ornamental but sacramental, expressing in gesture what language cannot. The Risen Christ is described as dancing through the stages of salvation history, and Christian liturgy becomes an imitation of this pattern. Rahner presents historical examples—dancing martyrs, Easter games, and altar boys in Seville—as signs of liturgical longing. The chapter concludes by defining salvation as the restoration of rhythm and play.
Chapter V – Eutrapelia: A Forgotten Virtue
Rahner turns to the classical virtue of eutrapelia as the ethical disposition that enables participation in divine play. Originating in Aristotle and developed by Aquinas, eutrapelia is defined as the mean between buffoonery and boorishness—a graceful capacity for joyful movement. For Aquinas, it is a spiritual tonic that permits the mind to rest. Rahner presents eutrapelia as the personal virtue that corresponds to the cosmic, ecclesial, and eschatological dimensions of play developed in earlier chapters. It allows the individual to live within the divine choreography with fidelity and delight. The grave-merry man of Chapter II reappears here as the exemplar of eutrapelia. The virtue is not marginal to Christian life but essential to its humanism. It sustains the believer in a world marked by toil and hope. Rahner frames eutrapelia as the capacity to move lightly in full awareness of the Cross—neither denying suffering nor being overwhelmed by it—and concludes by calling for its recovery within the Christian moral tradition.
June 24, 2025
This is a good book. I discovered it while reading an article on the JSTOR website about the role of play in the philosophy of Plato. I love it when I find a book so coincidentally, hidden in the footnotes and bibliographies of other works. Sadly, though, the article had already covered most of the important points raised in the book. My favorite chapter is the fourth, which discusses dances in the heavens across Greek and Christian literature and tradition. That was a new addition beyond what the article offered. I don’t like that Rahner tends to repeat ideas in every chapter, just in different shapes and forms. Overall, it’s a good read.
June 14, 2025
I loved this little book! Very much in the same vein as Leisure, the Basis of Culture by Josef Pieper, and it reminded me in some ways of the Spirit of the Liturgy Romano Guardini as well. I love the whole idea of worship as leisure/play, especially in light of the symbolism of the wedding feast of the Lamb in heaven as described in Revelation. I appreciated learning about the Greek virtue of Eutrapelia and its relation to the early Church and finally its incorporation into Christian theology with Aquinas.
June 28, 2022
The book ends with a brief exploration of a forgotten virtue, "eutrapelia". Rahner goes back to Aristotle's use of eutrapelia in the "Nichomachean Ethics" and Aquinas' "illuminating pages" from the second part of the Summa Theologica (II-II q. 168 a. 2) "Can there be a virtue in play?" Aquinas answers in the affirmative while reaffirming (I deliberately repeated this word in its different form) Aristotle's use of the word. It is a "golden means" to fun and witty conversation.
December 2, 2020
Overall a good book on the philosophy of play. Downside is the usage of Greek, Latin, and German with very few quotes translated into English.
December 29, 2023
Too theological for me, but I guess a theologian would love it. It’s not so much about play (like Huizinga’s book) but rather a long justification to play and dance (and rest) without being sinful.
January 10, 2024
A great read. Only frustration was the amount of Latin that was left untranslated. Would have been nice to have it translated for those who do not read the language.
Want to read
December 10, 2009Recommended by James Schall in Another Sort of Learning, Chapter 18, as one of Seven Books on Sports and Serious Reflection.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews