This post is prompted by the lengthy correspondence appended to the "Second Innocence" posting, between myself and Son of Moses. There, he suggests that I (and others like me) are
trying to hygienise, sanitise – that word again - the local and non-abstract into a scientific, vaporous, cleaned up version of the truth, the equivalent in words to a Mondrian or a 1930’s modernist kitchen, which now, incidentally, looks so dated, in a quaint sort of way.
Where are the demons, the heavenly hosts, Jesus Christ incarnated amidst the mud, dust and straw of the stable?
Where is the harrowing of hell, the miracles and dream of Joseph?
I confess that I'm not personally a theist - nor am I an atheist - but I feel that the discussion about this or that theology can obscure a more urgent issue about how people are treated within the School. We do find that a beautiful, ornate philosophy can be accompanied by the crudest unkindness (this is not, may I say, directed at Son of Moses!) I suspect that many Senior people will have no idea what I mean by that - they only have to ask! But do they still have questions?
If that occurs then I would far rather chuck out the whole philosophy and start again with simple morality. This is from the Essays of Montaigne (16th Century), much beloved of Shakespeare, with apologies for the charming old translation:
Super-celestiall opinions, and under-terrestriall manners, are things, that amongst us, I have ever seen to be of singular accord ... It is meere folly, insteade of transforming themselves into Angels, they transchange themselves into beastes ... Such transcending humours affright me as much, as steepy, high, and inaccessible places.
And Emerson (from memory): "Leave your theory, as Joseph his coat in the hand of the harlot, and flee".
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Nice Theory And All That ...
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4 comments:
Dear Kevin, I am sure I am not alone in wondering about 'the crudest unkindness' you speak of, and presumably have endured, perhaps on a regular basis.
It is at least comforting to know that I am not the perpetrator in this instance, but I suspect it is a crime of class, of one of my type, a senior School member bearing the arrogance of office and years (although, of course, I in no way see myself in these terms).
Without a bit more background, however, it is not easy to work out what you are talking about.
Help us to improve by being clearer about the nature of our crime.
I don't want to turn this blog into a whingefest...but I too have suffered the ambition, thoughtlessness, bullying, ingratitude etc., that, I guess, all organisations and institutions can breed, especially perhaps those with high ideals.
But I hope you'd agree that all these are nothing compared to the potential crime of leaving that incomparable treasure of our time, HH's conversations, unexamined, unchallenged, unvalued -- and therefore undeserved !
I agree with Anonymous on the latter point, although I think that the main thing that has been missed with HH is his compassion.
SOM, I wouldn't say that I am personally nursing too many massive grievances. This is not a personal cri de coeur, but a recognition that there is a harshness in the set-up that goes unchallenged and unexamined. The tutors believe they are doing the right thing, and the students believe that 'if it hurts, it must be doing me some good'.
The paternalistic nature of the School leads to problems, as for example with confidentiality ...
A student (let's call her Lily) confides in her tutor in (let us say) South Africa about the long-temm abuse she has suffered at the hands of her father. A few months later Lily is visiting the UK and serving at a leaders' Conference. To her utter horror, she overhears the leaders talking openly about what has happened to her.
Even when confronted with this, the people involved insist that there is nothing improper, even though the student had no idea that what she said would be shared with anyone else.
Or let's say a student (we'll call him Charlie) is prone to self-criticism, beating himself up. He gives an observation about something that the group has been studying and its transformative effect on his life. The tutor pauses, and then points out that Charlie has changed one word in the HH quotation the group has been examining. "You see," says the tutor, "this is what Ahankara does ..."
Charlie nods, with his best "sadder but wiser" face ... and resolves inwardly to try harder. He knows for sure now that ahankara is working its wickedness deep within him. Thank goodness he is In School! What misery would he otherwise be living in?
What more unkinder cut could there be, than to look at another as ahankara?
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