FOREWORD
Capturing the Spirit of an Age, intangible and
transitory as it is, presents a formidable challenge to the historian, but
there is broad agreement among commentators that contemporary popular
culture is a useful instrument in detecting how we live now, in that it not
only reflects how people react to their daily circumstances but also how it
influences them. With this idea in mind we have been examining aspects of
popular culture to determine our spiritual profile.
We look at the changing significance of Christmas as
depicted in popular movies during the 20th century, in 'Revel without a
Claus'. The influence of contemporary culture in establishing our values is
discussed in 'Tintin's Adventures in the Congo' in her review of Black
Gold, Esse Wise examines how a popular medium, the film
documentary, may be used to change social and political attitudes. Sue Good
reports her reaction to two books of popular theology in her discussion
about our understanding of the God concept and Terry Skene returns to his
favourite pursuit of excavating the mythological foundations of Hollywood
'Western classics' .
High culture is also deeply concerned with trying to
produce a moral and spiritual profile of our age. In his article, 'Human
Nature', John Robinson reflects upon the report produced last year by
Fellows of the Royal Society of Edinburgh which adopts a multi-disciplinary
approach to the task of establishing the values of our society.
Back to contents
A REVEL WITHOUT A CLAUSE
St Gregory of Nazianzen who died in 389 acknowledged that
the date chosen to celebrate the birth of Jesus was not without its
problems, as it coincided with several ancient pagan festivals, including
the Winter Solstice, the birthday of the Unconquered Sun (Deus Sol Invictus),
the Roman Saturnalia, the Teutonic Yuletide, and the birthday of the god,
Mithras, all of which were associated with eating and drinking to excess.
St. Gregory sternly advised his Christian flock to resist the temptation to
feast to extreme, to dance and to decorate their houses when they celebrated
Christmas but to observe it in a 'heavenly and not in an earthly manner'.
This wrangle between the spiritual and the materialistic has remained
irreconcilable ever since Julius I established Christmas as a Feast of the
Church in the 4th. century and doubtlessly reflects a spiritual struggle
between aspiration and self - interest that is present in all of us all the
year round but which seems to be particularly importunate at Christmas time,
inducing guilty spasms in an otherwise complacent conscience, an experience
common enough to excite the interest of popular culture. Throughout the
twentieth century, the organs of the mass entertainment industry, cinema,
radio, television, popular music, have made use of mythology, as the
skeleton upon which to construct their narratives of contemporary life,
trusting the timeless and traditional to give consequence to the ephemeral.
Clearly the tug-of-war between selfishness and generosity, overindulgence
and self-restraint, kindness and indifference waged within the individual
and the wider community has endless dramatic possibilities, but during this
festival of reconciliation and peace, possesses an added resonance and
irony.
As with other purveyors of popular entertainment, the
early film-makers were quick to realise the artistic and commercial
opportunities offered by Charles Dickens' novel, 'A Christmas Carol'. The
first silent version appeared in 1908 and there were numerous others both in
Britain and in the USA before the advent of talking pictures. It was the
ideal Christmas package. Not only did it confer a veneer of literary
respectability and provide a plot, structure, characters and theme for their
productions, it also fulfilled all the emotional needs associated with
Christmas in the popular mind. There is nostalgia for those wonderful
Christmases of bygone days; reassurance that all shall be well; a Christmas
ethic that reaffirms the values of kindness, generosity and the virtues of
family life, mutual support, concern and togetherness. Family life is a
major preoccupation of Charles Dickens. Usually his focus is upon
dysfunctional families, torn apart by greed, envy and the lust for power, as
in 'Martin Chuzzlewit', 'Dombey and Son' , 'Nicholas Nickleby', 'Hard
times' and 'Bleak House'; it is, therefore, reassuring to us all that in 'A
Christmas Carol' , he acknowledges a more positive view of family
relationships, by showing how the Cratchits, humble and of limited means,
live in harmony, lovingly caring for each other and happiest when they are
gathered together around the family hearth.
Another vitally important
feature of 'A Christmas Carol' is its ability to bring about a
reconciliation between the opposing forces of, practicality and
sentimentality, indifference and concern, mean-ness and benevolence,
commercialism and charity, a resolution which during the 20th century became
increasing difficult to achieve convincingly. Ebenezer Scrooge, the financier, for whom money is his stock in trade, a
precious commodity to be exploited for profit, and as such to be treated
with the greatest of respect and spent only on necessities, is induced to
change his attitude and acknowledge, willingly, that people, their happiness
and well being, ought to be his only concern and that wealth is the means by
which he should attain this end. Scrooge, cold as ice and hard as flint, is
transformed from within. A remarkable mechanism, the Spirits of Christmas
Past, Present and Future - part psycho-analysis (decades before the idea
occurred to Sigmund Freud), part social education and an acute awareness of
human mortality, his own as well as others - shatters the casehardened shell
of the ruthless businessman and releases the vulnerable, love-starved soul
within. Scrooge's triumphant emergence into the light launches us upon a
tide of hope and optimism that injustice and inequality are not unassailable
after all and will yield in time to humane and enlightened attitudes.
More
subtly, 'A Christmas Carol' is able to sustain a Christian ethos without
ever becoming overtly spiritual, thus dutifully paying its respects to the
religious claims upon Christmas while acknowledging its right also to be
considered a secular festival. The humanitarian values that underpin,' A
Christmas Carol' and Dickens' work generally, emanate from the New
Testament, and provide an alternative (and critical) ethic to Scrooge's
monetarism, but his conversion, although apparently achieved by supernatural
means (the three Spirits of Christmas) is not acknowledged overtly as a
religious one.
The mythological nature of' A Christmas Carol' - the struggle
between good and evil - allows it the flexibility to be adapted not only to
many different formats, the stage play, the pantomime, the comic strip, the
musical, the radio play, the movie, but also to reflect contemporary issues and attitudes and to be
transformed into totally different works of art.
The 1951 British film
version, 'Scrooge', for instance, a dark-hued, brooding production, typical
of the Gothic approach to filming Dickens in the 1940's, and starring
Alastair Sim, reflects the post-war years of austerity and rationing, by
including scenes which are not in the original book. Tiny Tim is shown
staring longingly at a shop window crammed with wonderful toys which are
beyond his parents' means, the sort of luxury goods that were unavailable in
British shops in the bleak 1940's. Another scene portrays Scrooge refusing
to pay for extra bread, a reference to bread rationing which had been
introduced in 1946, and the feasting at the Cratchits' and at Scrooge's
Nephew's is decidedly restrained, cheerfulness rather than consumption,
being the focus of Christmas celebrations. Contemporary commentators
associated Scrooge's change of heart with the creation of the Welfare State,
and the election of a Conservative government in 1951 with Scrooge's pledge
to provide for the welfare of the Cratchits for the rest of his life. The
flight from self denial was signalled as people were begil1ning to feel
comfortable once again with the notion of affluence and consumption. In
addition to its humanitarian and social comment this version had acquired
political overtones and in the process had become entirely secular, a
symptom that had appeared several years earlier in America, in 'A Wonderful
Life' a 'Christmas Carol' spin-off or look-alike.
Frank Capra's film,
starring James Stewart, although set at Christmas Time, seemed to deny many
of the traditional seasonal values and when it was released in December 1946
found favour with neither the critics nor the general public. However, since
the 1970's, due largely to repeated showings on television and the passage of time which has concealed the raw issues of the
film beneath a nostalgic dressing, it has been rivalling the various
editions of Dickens's masterpiece as the definitive Christmas entertainment.
The plot reveals the process whereby George Bailey, a popular, talented
youngster, brought up in the small town of Bedford Falls, by the time he has
reached early middle age, is attempting to commit suicide. Life for George
as a family man, owner of the local mortgage company, an architect and a
builder, well regarded by his fellow citizens, has been a huge
disappointment. He wanted to travel the world, study abroad and ,work on
vast projects in the great cities of America; instead his own generosity,
family loyalty, sense of responsibility and marriage have connived to keep
him frustrated and unfulfilled in Bedford Falls. The film opens on Christmas
Eve 1946. His wife Mary and his children are warm and comfortable at home
decorating the Christmas Tree, while George in utter despair, fights his way
through a blizzard to the town bridge from which he intends to jump into the
raging torrent below to end the intolerable misery which his life has
become. His uncle in a moment of abstraction, oil the way to the bank, has
mislaid $8,000 of their company's money. They are faced with bankruptcy.
Thousands of their depositors will lose their investment and many will lose
their homes. George will be convicted of embezzlement. All day long, George
has tried to recover the money or to borrow enough to repay his investors
but he has been unsuccessful. Crushed by failure and devastated that he has
ruined so many of his fellow citizens, he decides Bedford Falls would be
well rid of him, and jumps to his death. Meanwhile, Clarence, a trainee
angel with an abysmal record, has been assigned to look after George, and
rescues him from the turbulent waters. To restore George's self confidence,
Clarence shows what Bedford Falls would have been like had he not been
born. The town has fallen into the grasping hands of Potter, the town
banker, the richest and meanest person in town and George's arch enemy.
Indeed Potter is the author of all their troubles. He found the $8,000 but
in order to ruin George whom he regards as an obstacle to his plans for
acquiring control of the town, has held on to it. Denied George's benign
influence, the town, now renamed Pottersville, has become a squalid slum,
occupied by unhappy, quarrelsome people, addicted to gambling, heavy
drinking, violence and crime, living in miserable, Potter-owned
accommodation, and all indebted to Potter's bank. Clarence, fulfilling the
role of the Ghost of Christmas yet to come, convinces George/Bob Cratchit
that his life has been an outstanding success, having stood between
Potter/Scrooge and the townsfolk to provide them with comfortable affordable
housing in a pleasant setting and a lifestyle that gives them dignity and
self respect. Reconciled to his insignificant, small-town existence, George
returns to the bosom of his family to discover that his fellow citizens have
clubbed together to replace the missing money and that even more is
forth-coming from out of town benefactors impressed by his integrity.
This
happy ending, says Capra, can only be achieved at the cost of credibility.
Only a miracle could resolve the mental conflict George is suffering at the
beginning of the film. We are not convinced that George by himself would
ever have overcome his depression and panic to change his mind about
committing suicide. The miracle is provided by the fantasy character,
Clarence the Angel, clearly misplaced in a film of stark realism.
Furthermore, all the other issues are materialistic. George is worthy
because he provides comfortable homes for his clients and invests their
savings wisely to enrich them. Potter is anti-community because he uses
money to enrich himself at the cost of others. However, he is not punished
in any way for stealing George's money, nor is there any embargo placed upon
his future unscrupulous business practices. In this film, Scrooge remains
untransformed and unrepentant. The struggle between commercialism and
benevolence appears not to have been resolved. At best, only an armed truce
appears to have been achieved. Far from leaving us with a warm sense of
reassurance that all will be well, Capra, reacting to post-war pessimism in
1946, seemed to be bent upon undermining the magic and fantasy of Christmas
forever.
The secularising of Christmas continues in 'Miracle on 34th.
Street' produced a year later. Consummerism, materialism, gifts, presents,
toys, open-handed generosity and unrestrained consumption are the whole
business of Christmas. Stripped of his supernatural trappings, Santa Claus
or Kris Kringle, as he styles himself, is a little old man, albeit with a
trim white beard, attired in a three-piece tweed suit, and resident in an
old folks home. He exerts his influence upon his fellow citizens, not by
means of magic, but by common sense, imagination, kindliness and human
understanding. Kris is employed as Santa Claus in Macy's Department Store,
on 34th. Street, New York. Although he is extraordinarily successful in this
role, he has fallen foul of the store personnel officer, an amateur
psychologist, wearing the mantle of Scrooge, who claims Kris is insane
because he insists he really is the genuine Santa Claus. Committal
proceedings are instituted. Kris, in whom we recognise vestigial traces of
the Spirits of Christmas, is brought before the Court and required to prove
his sanity by demonstrating that he really is Santa Claus.
This identity
crisis reflects contemporary (1947) anxieties about the nature of Christmas.
There was clearly a reluctance in the popular mind to disavow the claims
of the supernatural but an equal determination to hold on to reality and
common sense. Christmas is a secular, rather than a spiritual event, but it
would appear churlish to state as much. By means of a legal fudge, we are
allowed to have our cake and eat it. As a practical joke and in order to rid
themselves of thousands of letters addressed to Santa Claus, the New York
postmen decide to deliver all this mail to Kris Kringle at the courthouse,
demonstrating that the United States Government recognises Kris to be the
genuine Santa Claus, and that what may not be acceptable as an article of
faith may be validated by a legal quibble. The ingenuity of the denouement
is enough to quell our incredulity and forgive its cheek. It is chastening
to think that a debate that has persisted for hundreds of years is at length
resolved by a joke. Apart from the occasional re-make of 'A Christmas Carol'
Christmas films in the following decades ignored the secular/spiritual
debate in favour of pure entertainment, Christmas 'Lethal Weapon's, 'Die
Hard's, 'Horror's and 'Home Alone's with lots of Christmas violence,
blasphemy, cursing and swearing!
The most hopeful version of ' A Christmas
Carol' I have seen recently is not set at Christmas time, boasts none of the
Christmas trappings, does not claim to be a Christmas film, nor acknowledges
any debt to Charles Dickens, but, yet, although dressed in modern clothing,
pays tribute to his work and values. The film has the unpromising title, 'As
Good as it gets' suggesting that life for anyone of us is never going to get
any better.
There is no such social arrangement as a traditional. 'nuclear'
family, no Mr and Mrs Cratchit and the kids. Instead we have three
households, two of which are accommodated next door to each other in a block
of luxury flats in New York, one comprising a bachelor writer, Melvin. Udall, the Scrooge
character, and the other of a bachelor painter, Simon, the Bob Cratchit
look-a-like. Melvin Udall, is a successful romantic novelist, but
ironically, is incapable of forming any kind of relationship with other
people. He is selfish, insensitive, tactless, cynical, sneering,
homophobic, hostile towards black people, Jews and emigrants, particularly
from South America and dogs. Simon is gay and lives alone with his little
dog, called Bradelle and standing in for Tiny Tim. The third household,
accommodated in a squalid, tidy flat, in a run-down building, in a low-rent
district, consists of Carol Connolly, her severely asthmatic son (another
Tiny Tim) and her mother. Carol, another Cratchit look-alike, works as a
waitress in the diner where Melvin, whom she detests and despises, takes
his meals.
Simon is seriously injured when he disturbs a group of thieves
ransacking his home. While he is recovering in hospital Melvin is
induced to look after the dog by Frank, Simon's art dealer, a large black
man
by whom he is intimidated. Melvin, starved of companionship, forms an affectionate relationship, the first In his life, with the little dog.
Overhearing that Carol cannot afford proper medical care for her son, who
frequently suffers life-threatening asthmatic attacks, Melvin decides to
pay all their medical bills to ensure her presence in the diner to serve
him his lunch. This is not altogether an unselfish, charitable act. He is a
compulsive - obsessive, that is, his life is rigidly controlled by habits he
cannot ignore, and so he will only eat if Carol serves him his meal. Simon's
medical expenses bankrupt him and he loses his apartment. Melvin with the aid of Carol tries to arrange a reconciliation between Simon and his parents
who have disowned him because of his homosexuality. The attempt fails and
Melvin, without any prompting from Frank the fixer, allows Simon to move in
with him. Carol's son, quickly responds to superior medical attention and
she is grateful to Melvin, who has become so deeply
attached to Carol and her son, that he tries hard to change his behaviour to
gain her good opinion of him and even perhaps to consider embarking upon a
romantic relationship. The film ends happily for everyone; good will is
triumphant; caring relationships are established; optimism is restored; the
audience is reassured, and all achieved without the aid of any supernatural
agency or religious reference. Suspension of disbelief is scarcely called
for. The process of changing his behaviour and humanising Melvin Udall, has
been achieved by natural means, a combination of fear of a black man (the
Spirits of Christmas) and the love of a lonely man for a little dog which
returns his affection. Although cynicism has melted away, realism is never
challenged; Simon's parents, for instance, remain alienated to show that
some dysfunctional families are indeed incurable; effective medical care is
only available to the affluent; people try to realise their dreams in night-mareish
circumstances; people still live in rundown, unromantic tenements.. Even
when dowsed by buckets of freezing cold reality, however, the flame of
hopefulness refuses to be extinguished.
This is a 21st. Century secularist
Christmas parable, without Santa Clause, without magic, tinsel and twinkling
stars, and assuredly, although not aggressively, without religion, but which
reflects a longing for those age old Christmas values of love, compassion,
good-neighbourliness, generosity, happiness and peace, re-discovered by
Ebenezer Scrooge, another secularist on the way to spiritual enlightenment.
That hardheaded film producers still consider these values to be a sale-able
commodity in our unsentimental and self-centred culture, I find most
reassuring and an indication that the debate between materialism and the
spirit has not yet been adjourned.
WHAT IS YOUR GOD LIKE?
by Sue Good
Gandhi said that there are as many gods as
there are people. I thought I might explore the different views we may hold
about God. It sounds like a good idea, but as usual, it's quite difficult to
express. The result is very subjective, but I hope that some bits of it may
strike a chord with you, whatever your own experience.
If you have ever had to find a joke with a
religious theme for a particular occasion, you'll know that the stock of
"God" jokes are all fairly hoary old chestnuts, but I hope you'll
forgive my telling you this one, as it fits into my subject today so well. The
wee girl was busy drawing and her mum asked her what the picture was all
about. "It's a picture of God", the girl replied. "But no-one
knows what God looks like" said the mother. "Well, they will do once
I've finished", was the reply. I have often wondered what sort of picture
she might have produced. Was it the classic old man, with flowing beard and
dressed in a nightdress? Or would it have been more of a Superman figure or
something like ET? Inevitably, our ideas about God and at least at first, our
experiences of God, tend to come to us from others. That can leave us
seriously open to what may be very deformed images of God. Take this one, for
instance, which Gerard Hughes relates:-
| It is though as little children our loving parents
take us to visit "Good Old Uncle George", a man of great
wealth and influence. Our parents tell us he lives to help us all.
Uncle George, an elderly, bearded and forbidding man, lives in a large
and gloomy mansion. One day, at the end of your visit, Uncle George
turns to you and declares, "I want you to visit me here
regularly, and if you fail to come, let me show you
what will happen." He leads you down to the mansion's overheated
basement. He opens a steel door and you see row upon row of blazing
furnaces, into which men, women and children are being hurled by
little demons. "That", says Uncle George, "is what will
happen to you if you don't visit me regularly" Safely upstairs
again, you clutch at your parents in terror. On the way home, Mummy
leans over and says "And don't you love Uncle George with all
your heart and soul and mind and strength?" Remembering the
furnaces, you lie and say "Yes", but you loathe Uncle George
and consider him a monster. The lie becomes part of your life, so that
you continue to profess love of Uncle George, visit him dutifully, say
all the right things about how wonderful he is and how grateful you
are for his kindness, but deep down you detest him and want nothing to
do with him |
That's quite a fearsome picture and one which
those of you lucky enough to have been brought up as Unitarians may find quite
strange, but it's probably quite a common one to linger on into adulthood. My
own childhood fears were less to do with hell than with purgatory, a sort of
lesser fiery place that just about everyone was said to end up in for a time
before being allowed into heaven, even if they were great saints. My
impression of God at that time was that he was incredibly nitpicking:- you
only had to forget to say your prayers, or take a drink of water before going
to communion and you had committed a sin. Speaking to him was always done in
set prayers, full of words like "beseech" and "vouchsafe"
that hadn't got a lot to do with everyday life. Another barrier for me was
that God was always portrayed as a father. Brought up in an exclusively female
atmosphere at home and at boarding school, I didn't know any fathers: in fact,
apart from priests and doctors, I didn't know any men at all. So while God as
a mother would have made sense, God as a father did not. My childhood idea of
God was of a benevolent sort of village policeman, happy to look after you and
jovial just as long as you behaved, but woe betide you if you flouted any of
the bye-laws.
At the very opposite end of the spectrum is the
view of God that sometimes bursts on the mind with great power. It's
encountered at evangelical gatherings and services, radiates enthusiasm and is
especially attractive to young people, who become very committed Christians
leading biblically-based lives. It also often requires an outpouring of
emotion, particularly in worship situations. Great Uncle George and the
village policemen were caricatures, but this view of God as the object of love
and the purpose of life is genuine. The trouble is, for those of us of a more
phlegmatic turn of mind, the way of responding to it is almost
incomprehensible. If getting in touch with God is going to involve
hand-waving, swaying or bursts of visible emotion, we just don't want to do
it. It seems akin to falling in love, in human terms; the very early stages or
honeymoon period of a relationship. Long-term, I feel that this high level
emotional involvement is just not sustainable and has eventually to change
into something that's more comfortable. I'm not saying that one would never
have moments of emotion, just that if you eat caviar every day you would cease
to regard it as a treat.
So far we've come from childhood views of God
to a more adult one, but where do we go from there? Do we seek out different
views of God, or do we stick to the one we have found? Does our idea of God
change and develop as we grow older, or is it basically the same as when we
were 21? Do we even believe in a personal God at all, or simply in a shared
spirit or ancestral memory? Does it matter that we all hold differing views?
Once upon a time I would have been convinced that it did, but now I simply
look on it as each person's unique way of looking at exactly the same thing;
the common spark of love that we all possess and that some call God. Keeping
the spark active is something that we also have so many different ways of
doing, depending on our background. You might call it ways of encountering God
and I think humans need some high points to identify contact. The mainstream
Christian churches have always understood this well and their services are a
blend of music and prayer that can be very moving, particularly the
celebration of Holy Communion. But it is possible to take part in that totally
as an individual, as part of a personal encounter with God. Contrast that with
the lunch we held here in the summer, sharing food and conversation, then
sharing thoughts and songs and it seems to me that that was much more of a
communion than many masses are.
It seems that my view of God changes and
develops as I do, although always influenced by the past. There's a line in
one of the songs in the hymn-book. It says "Roots hold me close, wings
set me free" and that does seem to describe my experience of God quite
well. Knowing about God is one thing, however, and knowing God is something
very different. The unknown author of "The Cloud of Unknowing",
which was written around 1350, says "Though we cannot know him we can
love him. By love he may be touched and embraced, never by thought" But
if we're going to love someone, we have to at least speak to them and try to
get to know them better. Whole libraries of books have been written on how to
go about getting in contact with God and it probably won't surprise you to
know that this topic today was sparked off by my discovery of two of these
books.
Both of them are modern, both American and both
might be described as belonging to the New Age Spirituality category. Julia
Cameron is an artist and writer of novels, plays, films, poetry etc. Her book
"God is no laughing matter" was written as an antidote to the kind
of artificial piety that's prevalent in American media circles. Her style and
the situations are very American, but if you can see past that, she gives many
very useful suggestions for exploring the God connection in ways you might
never have thought of. Here's one of her short pieces, called "Blind
Date":-
|
Most of us don't know where to start
with God. We've got a lot of excess baggage and expectations and
"God as Told to Us By" and it can feel an awful lot like a
Blind Date - the kind you see in those vintage romantic comedies where
everybody knows he's the right guy or she's the right girl except the
one resisting the date.
The trick with God - just like with
Blind Dates - is to suit up and show up. Who knows? God might turn out
to be tall and handsome. Or blond and curvy. Someone you might really
like. Somebody you can actually talk to and go salsa dancing with.
Somebody who gets your jokes and likes the same terrible monster
movies that you do.
The point is that until you try to meet
God, you aren't going to know. If your earphones are unspooling the
"Here's what God is like" tapes of everybody else, the
Spiritual Big Cheeses, you might miss God disguised as the nice trash
man who takes your extra load of stuff without making you phone in to
bureaucracy hell for another truck and driver. You might miss God as
the red-winged blackbird or the shiny river stone. You might miss God,
period. Much of what you learn about God in this country can sound a
lot like a military training film, very stern and authoritarian. The
message runs along the lines of "God is no laughing matter".
Pm not so sure about that. I think God might have a pretty good sense
of humour. Look at octopuses, for example, and baboons.
Yes, sometimes I think we are the ones who are grim and God is just
pacing around cloud nine, waiting for us to lighten up a little. It's
possible.
If God is very "serious" to
you, you may want to explore just why. Is it God or your conditioning?
A bad experience with God, as with dating, can leave you soured. |
Then she goes on to detail various exercises to
help you sort out your ideas of what God is like and where they come from. I
wonder whether it is a coincidence that Julia started out in life as a
Catholic, I did myself and the author of the second book I'm going to speak
about did too. Perhaps childhood conditioning kick-starts the process of
searching, or perhaps conscience operates more powerfully in us, Neale Donald
Walsch was always a seeker and a restless character in his personal and
professional life. He was a radio producer and later had his own public
relations firm. His relationships were problematical and he was lucky to
survive a head-on car collision. In 1992, following a period of deep despair,
Neale awoke in the middle of a February night and wrote an anguished letter to
God. "What does it take," he angrily scratched across a yellow legal
pad, "to make life work'?" Now well chronicled and widely talked
about, it was this questioning letter that received a Divine answer. Neale
says that he heard a voice, soft and kind, warm and loving, that gave him an
answer to this and other questions. Awestruck and inspired, he quickly
scribbled these responses onto the tablet. These and subsequent answers became
the basis for a series of book called "Conversations with God" Now,
whether you believe that actually happened or not doesn't really matter. What
is important is whether the material produced has any value, any clues as to
how to know God. You can judge for yourself in this passage, which purports to
be God's instructions on that topic,
|
Get close to me! Do what you can. Do
what you have to. Do what it takes. Say a rosary. Kiss a stone. Bow to
the East. Chant a chant, Swing a pendulum. Test a muscle. Or write a
book.
Do what it takes.
Each of you has your own construction. Each of you has understood me -
created me - in your own way.
To some of you I am a man. To some of you I am a woman. To some, I am
both. To some, I am neither.
To some of you I am pure energy. To some, the ultimate feeling, which
you call love. And some of you have no idea what I am. You simply know
that I AM. And so it is, I AM.
I am the wind which rustles your hair. I am the sun which warms your
body. I am the rain which dances on your face. I am the smell of
flowers in the air, and I am the flowers which send their fragrance
upward. I am the air which carries the fragrance.
I am the beginning of your first thought. I am the end of your last. I
am the idea which sparked your most brilliant moment. I am the glory
of its fulfillment. I am the feeling which fuelled the most loving
thing you ever did. I am the part of you which yearns for that feeling
again and again.
Whatever works for you, whatever makes in happen- whatever ritual,
ceremony, demonstration, meditation, thought, song, word or action it
takes for you to "reconnect" - do this. Do this in
remembrance of me. |
Whatever you may think about the origins of
that passage, you would have to admit that it is a very inclusive and liberal
view of God, perhaps a very Unitarian one. We each have an individual view of
God and being convinced that ours is the right one is surely good thing,
since it is right for us. Just as each part of the jigsaw is different, but
together they make a whole picture, so is each one of us part of the whole
picture that is God. That must be so if it is true that we are made in his
image. I don't know what your God is like, I'm not even entirely sure what
mine is like, but I am working on it. It's seen quite a few changes and
adjustments already and I'm sure there will be more to come. After all, it's a
lifetime project. The comedian Dave Allen used to sign off his show in the
same way every time and it seems an appropriate ending for me. He used to say
"Good night and may your God go with you."
(The title for this address is borrowed from a practical
book by the Jesuit theologian, Gerard Hughes.)
Back to Contents
TINTIN IN THE CONGO
By Bill Stephen
Prompted by the controversy that immediately followed upon its
publication, I recently bought and read Herge's 'Adventures of Tintin in
the Congo', the comic-strip cartoon, which first appeared in print in the
children's supplement of the 'Le Vingtiem~ Ciecle' a newspaper published in
Brussels, in 1930. Although an earlier English translation accompanying
black and white pictures appeared in 1931, the publishers decided that a
full-colour edition was required to complete! the set of 20 Tintin books
available in English to meet the wishes of serious collectors. I am not a
serious collector of Herge's work, 'Tintin in the Congo; being the only one
I have ever read. However, its appearance now and the predictable negative
reaction with which it has been received, once again demonstrate our
difficult and ambivalent relationship with our past. This year, for instance
we have been encouraged to shoulder the guilt and opprobrium bequeathed us
by our forefathers for their participation in the slave-trade. We have been
called to account for the bombing of German cities during W.W.2, the atomic
bomb attack on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the Catholic Church has recently
apologised for the Crusades. Although hardly on the same scale, the
unexpurgated edition of the youthful Herge's fantasy, 'Tintin in the Congo'
nevertheless, in the view of a vast number of people, displays an attitude
towards the citizens of the Congo in particular and all Africans in general
that is thoroughly reprehensible and its appearance now in this age of
ethnic awareness, shows, at best, a deplorable lack of sensitivity on the
part of the publishers, Egmont, and at worst a gratuitous racialist insult.
'Tintin in the Congo', I have to admit, is, none the less great fun. It
dashes helter-skelter from one giddy escapade to the next, frothing with
suspense, white-knuckle pursuits, vertiginous cliff-hangers, near-death
experiences,
heart-stopping surprises, shocks, frights, pitfalls and booby-traps, all
served up at break-neck speed with searing helpings of cruelty laced with
violence.
Tintin, a world famous cub reporter with an
irrepressible
curiosity and unquenchable thirst for high adventure, sets out with his
faithful dog Snowy to explore the sootiest corners of the dark continent and
slaughter the creatures with the loudest roar, the sharpest fangs, the
fiercest appearance and angriest mood. Wicked white men in the pay of Al
Capone the American gangster, pursue Tintin, anticipating that he will
discover their plot to seize and control the African diamond trade.
Aided and abetted by a cunning and deranged African Witch-doctor, they
display a remarkable ingenuity in arranging Tintin's urgent demise by
drowning, throttling; crushing, stabbing, shooting, goring, tearing,
ripping, slashing, falling and suffocating. He is pursued by elephants,
rhino, lions, leopards, buffalo and enraged tribes-men, and set upon by
crocodiles, hippos, monkeys and an expatriate anaconda. A combination of
co-incidence,
good-fortune and his own resourcefulness; ensures his survival and final
triumph over the forces of evil, although only the appearance of a rope
ladder dangling from an aeroplane at the last moment saves him from a
herd of charging buffaloes, thus emphasising the persistent dangers of the
dark continent.
This is all thrilling fantasy for children, and while
children usually manage to separate what happens in the land of story from
what happens in their own lives, impressions, attitudes, misconceptions,
prejudices embedded in the story are much more insidious, being absorbed
unconsciously and may influence the reader for a whole life-time. The status
of the various ethnic groups in this comic strip, for instance, clearly reflects contemporary (1930) European attitudes. The assumption is that
white Europeans set the standard for civilised behaviour, knowledge,
technology, language, lifestyle and any deviation from this norm is bound
to be inferior and worthy of ridicule. The physical characteristics of the
northern European races are also regarded as the preferred human model;
other racial types are clearly disadvantaged. Thus the skin colour and
physical features of the Africans are exaggerated in Herge's drawings to
establish that these people are entirely different from his readers.
Furthermore, they wear outlandish garments, live is straw huts; carry spears and shields, speak in
pidgeon English and are awestruck by Tin tin's magical devices, such as his movie camera and projector. (One wonders where
his power source is.)
They are portrayed as simple-minded and
child-like. One tribe elects Snowy, Tintin's dog, as its king arid Tintin
himself is regarded as. the god-1ike fount of all wisdom and becomes the
role-model for all young Africans.
This book emerges from a white
supremacist attitude that had been developing in Europe for more than
two centuries, the inevitable consequence or the trans-Atlantic
slave-trade and the colonial exploitation oft the African and South American
Continents by the British, the French, the Belgians, the Germans, the
Spanish, the Portuguese, the Dutch and the North Americans. Nineteenth century and early
twentieth century popular culture and
literature is redolent of attitudes and language usage that, acceptable
then, today are considered to be inappropriate, prejudiced, deeply offensive
and racially divisive. Many of the books, approved by the great, good,
learned and devout that I read as a child reflect a white European
superiority towards all other races and cultures.
Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer novels in language,
characterisation, comment and incident show little regard for the dignity
and sensitivity of black Americans. I can recall a tale entitled 'Little
Black Sambo', several in Enid Blyton's 'Jolly Story Book' and 'The Three
Gollywogs' which are now considered to be highly offensive. The novels of H.
Ryder Haggard, who had served as a District Commissioner in various African
colonies, 'King Solomon's Mines' and the Alan Quartermain stories also
emphasised the message of white European superiority. At Sunday School, we
were urged to emulate the Christian commitment and sacrifice of David
Livingstone, Dr Laws of Livingstonia, Mary Slessor of Calabar and to donate
our pennies to further missionary work among the "heathens of the
dark continent". At day school we were taught to be proud of the
British Empire, upon which the sun never set, to pray for the Royal Family,
to sing patriotic songs, to honour the great explorers and Empire builders,
Clive of India, Cecil Rhodes, General Wolff of Canada, Captains Cook and
Flinders of Australia and even highly such heroes like General Gordon
of Khartoum, who had perished in defence of Christian values, bearing the
White man's burden to the very last. On Saturday afternoons, I would go to
the cinema and applaud the US Cavalry as they slaughtered thousands of
native Americans, The Sioux, The Apaches, the Pawnees, the Shawnees, the
Arapahoe, at The Little Big Horn, or at the Powder River, or at Wounded Knee
where hundreds of prisoners were summarily executed, and in numerous
skirmishes in Red River and the Black Hills country and acknowledge that
such carnage was justified because the 'redskins' were savages and an
obstacle to the onward march of white European civilisation. On other
occasions, I would watch 'Sanders of the River' or better still, 'Tarzan of the
Apes, the heir to an English estate and aristocratic title, swing through the high jungle canopy, fight
with crocodiles, outwit evil witch-doctors and their spear-carrying
assassins,
slay snakes, hyenas, vultures and other ignoble scavengers of the great
savannahs, to save an innocent white damsel in distress, betrayed and
abandoned by her cowardly African porters. I Had never seen a black or
brown person in the flesh until I was about sixteen and never spoken to one
until I was nineteen yet deep, deep, in the archeology of my mind there
exists a layer of suspicion, prejudice and antipathy, laid down than sixty years ago, the
second, even third hand, impressions deposited by travellers' tales,
sermons, drawings, books, lectures and films. This
is mental baggage of which, try as I might, I cannot rid myself; it is
there, like a guilty conscience, an uncomfortable reminder of a national
attitude which we in our innocence absorbed and could not escape. In a sense we
have been betrayed by the popular culture that raised us. How does it come about
that attitudes considered appropriate half a century ago are now rejected
out of hand?
I think the answer is to be found in an
overpowering sense of. guilt; a consequence d the Holocaust. In devising a
political programme based upon the premeditated murder of a hole race of
people, not motivated by anger or greed, or self-defence but by a political
doctrine, Hitler shattered our belief in the perfectibility of human
society. but human morality was on a par with that of the jungle beasts. We
killed without a conscience. The devastation of W.W.2 was an unanswerable
reproach to our claims to be a civilised society. We were overwhelmed by
shame and remorse. Action had to be taken to recover the moral high-ground, to clear our collective mime, to
demonstrate to ourselves that we were capable of behaving decently and
justly. The Nuremburg Trials were set up and the Nazi leaders condemned; the
United Nations Organisation was instituted; the European Empires, the
British, the French, the Belgian, the Italian and the Dutch were dissolved
as quickly as possible; the Human Rights Charter was composed and accepted
by the United Nations; racial, religious and social equality was to be
guaranteed to everyone; groups which considered themselves victimised and
ignored by society were encouraged to seek equal rights with everyone else.
Feminism, the Civil Rights and the Gay Rights movements developed rapidly
in the United States and spread to Western Europe as a result. Prejudiced
attitudes and assumptions were remorselessly sought out and exposed. Language
was examined minutely and words and phrases considered
offensive to minority groups or revealing inappropriate attitudes were
altered and so political correctness came into being.
Simultaneously major
demographic changes were happening. The rapid growth of air travel brought
the people of the world within a day's journey of each other; the stability
and affluence of the west attracted migrants in their millions from
impoverished strife-torn nations and eventually western society became an
amalgam of many different races, cultures, languages and religions,
people with different traditions, different susceptibilities and loyalties,
different histories, and all wishing to pursue a way of life as close as possible to that of their home-land. Suddenly, we and the rest of the
world are neighbours, living in the same street, so close to each other,
that our different traditions, histories and assumptions are bound to clash
from time to time. We now have the great grand-children of the oppressed
living next door to the great grandchildren of their oppressors in complete
equality, a most remarkable and positive state of affairs, as long as past
history does not interfere to create conflict between them. Unfortunately,
the poison of the past wells up from generation to generation, spilling over
and spreading bitterness and resentment among people who are innocent of any
involvement in the original events, but who feel compelled to continue the
conflict because of tradition and loyalty to their ancestors. The troubles
in Northern Ireland, the bitterness between Moslems and Christians, between
Sunni and Shia Moslems, between Jews and Palestinians, between Indians,
Pakistanis and Bangladeshis and so on demonstrate this tragic situation.
The
feelings of guilt prevalent in the West after W.W.2 have not been
experienced elsewhere in the world. Massacres of innocent people, often
amounting to genocide, have stained human history over the past fifty years
or so. The brutal excesses of African warlords, in Biafra, Katanga, the
Congo, Sierra Leone, Ruanda, the Central African republic, Ethiopia,
Eritrea, and now in Darfur; of unscrupulous politicians in the Middle East
like Sadam Hussein; of the Communist Dictators Mao Tse Tung, Ho Chi Min, Pol
Pot and Fascist Dictators in South America, like Pinochet and Galtieri have
left behind a historical legacy of hatred and unsatisfied need for
retaliation, retribution, reparation and justice that will survive in the
memory of their victims and their descendants for centuries to come.
Unsatisfied vengeance convulses the soul until at last it erupts in violence
and conflict. Recognition of guilt and expressions of remorse are not enough
to assuage the bitterness left behind by historical events, what is also
required is forgiveness on the part of the people who identify themselves as
victims. 'I forgive you,' is more difficult to enunciate than 'I'm sorry'.
However, this year a bronze statue, nine foot high, was erected in
parliament Square, in London, to an African Leader who made a political
doctrine out of forgiveness. After the defeat of apartheid in South Africa,
Nelson Mandela, set out to unite the divided races in his country by setting
up the Conciliation Commission to expose the excesses of the apartheid
system by allowing each side to tell of its feelings and experiences in a
spirit, not of revenge but of forgiveness. A similar approach was used to
try to heal the divisions between the Tutsis and the Hutus after the Ruanda
massacres. Enormous restraint and maturity are required of the victims to
say 'I forgive you' to the people who destroyed their families, homes and
livelihoods, and many thousands found they could not ignore their feelings
of rancour and bitterness to do so, but many more found that they could.
These people deserve our admiration and gratitude, because their attitude
allows us to continue to believe in the ultimate goodness of humankind and
give us encouragement that eventually, may be a thousand years from now, we
will have found away to put the past behind us, to tame History at last. It
is ironic that those people who have taught the rest of the world how to
forgive, are the grand-children and great grand-children of the primitive,
simple-minded creatures ridiculed by Herge more than seventy years ago in
his deplorable comic strip 'Tintin's Adventures in the Congo'.
Back to contents
COFFEE CULTURE
by Essie Wise
The camera swoops out of a cloudless blue sky, skims over a lush, green
landscape to hover over a line of women slowly pushing their way between
chest - high shrubs, before settling above nimble fingers foraging for
berries among the leaves.
Next we are thrown into a maelstrom of gyrating
figures gesticulating arms, darting eyes, shouting mouths clamouring to be
heard in the cacophony concentrated within this huge, reeling cavern,
pulsating with electronic displays recording, unit by unit, the changing
fortunes of the rivals in this conflict that is the New York commodities
exchange. A feverish child, racked by pain, is cradled by her mother,
tender, loving care, her only medicine. We get a quick glimpse of a sparsely
furnished hut and of sunlit foliage beyond the open doorway, before we're
dropped at a table in a crowded, down-town coffee shop, effervescing with
the hiss of espresso machines, screeching discords from the CD player and
the shrieking of over-stimulated voices.
Two worlds are juxtaposed by
British film-makers, Marc and Nick Francis, in their documentary, Black
Gold, the world of the Haves and that of the Have-Nots, of the consumer and
of the producer, of the affluent West and of the impoverished farmers of
Ethiopia. Coffee is the topic, injustice is the theme and Fair Trade is the
proposed solution.
For over two and a half years, the Francis brothers
filmed Tadesse Meskela of Sidamo, Ethiopia, General Manager of the Oromia
Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union as he tries to win a fairer price for the
crops harvested by the 70,000 coffee farmers he represents. We follow him from the simple dwellings of his association members to the hectic
bear-pit of the commodities exchange where the price of the raw coffee is
hammered out, to the plush offices of the great conglomerates which dominate
the coffee trade, Procter and Gamble, Kraft, Nestle and Sara Lee, to the
tasting rooms, where the educated palates of a college of American coffee
professors establish the relative merits of hundreds of worldwide samples
and decide upon the blends that will appear on the super-market shelves, and
finally to those very supermarket coffee aisles where among dozens of
competing, brands, Meskela at last, finds a can of his Sidamo Fair Trade
coffee, tucked away at the back of a shelf.
Tadesse Meskela is an impressive
hero, calm, realistic, patient, untroubled by the commercial difficulties
ahead of him, and conscious that upon his skills as a negotiator and
salesman, rest the fate of hundreds of thousands of fellow Ethiopians.
Whether they can afford to have a clean water supply, education, a health
service, better housing- etc. depends largely on the price of coffee, over
which they have no control. Ironically, although the coffee shrub is native
to Ethiopia and some of the finest coffee beans, valued by connoisseurs the
world over, are grown there, its earning power has declined steadily over
the past 30 years.
Statistics rather than human interest stories carry the
principal argument for the Fair Trade position. After oil, coffee is the next most widely traded commodity. internationally. It is
estimated that the coffee trade last year generated an income of $140 billion. Two billion cups are consumed
worldwide every day. The average cost of a regular coffee in a UK coffee
shop is 2.00, of which the farmer receives less than 1p. The current market
rate for a kilo of unroasted beans is 22 cents. 'If we could get 57 cents,
we would be delighted,' said one farmer, while admitting that twice that
amount would be required to furnish his village with a clean water supply
and their children with a rudimentary education. If Africa could increase
its world trade by 1 % it would earn an extra $70 billion dollars, five
times the amount it receives in aid. However, - this seems unlikely in the
near future. Blac1k Gold includes a film report of the 2003 World Trade
Organisation Conference which ended in uproar because the EU and the US
refused to cancel subsidies to their own farmers while the International
Monetary Fund insisted that African nations should not pay subsidies to
their farmers. It is impossible for African farmers to earn a decent living
in a market which is clearly and unjustly biased against them.
Faced with
continuing poverty and hunger, Ethiopian farmers are uprooting their coffee
shrubs and replacing them with 'Chat' a plant which produces a narcotic drug
banned in many western countries but one for which they can find a ready
market and a fair price. Black Gold argues its case forensically, patiently
and calmly leading its evidence, without histrionics. There is no high
profile presenter like Michael Miles ('Bowling for Columbine' etc.) or
Martin Spurlock ('Supersize Me'), no clever cross-examining, uncovering
hidden agendas and pillorying the witness etc. The conviction that the
Ethiopian farmers deserve a fair deal for their produce is there but it is
expressed rationally rather than passionately. Indeed the only emotional
outburst occurs at the WTO talks when African negotiators, frustrated and
angry by the intransigence of the EU and US storm out of the conference
chamber in utter despair. There are no patronising, hard-done-by human
interest stories. The camera is not intrusive or prying but restrained.
There are no heart-wrenching tragedies to prompt a guilty reaction. The
Ethiopian farmers and their families are portrayed as dignified,
hard-working people, proud and self-reliant, who are doing their utmost to
maximise their income in an unjust market and who certainly do not consider
that the rest of the world owes them a living.
The case for Fair Trade is
well made in this film. Unfortunately, its message may be overlooked as its
exhibition tends to be limited to Art House cinemas and private viewings
etc. since lacking in notoriety value and being informative rather than
entertaining, the main cinema chains don't wish to screen it. It is
available in DVD format and a list of screenings is posted on the internet.
However, it has not gone unnoticed. The Starbuck's Coffee House chain has
embarked upon a charm offensive to persuade its customers that they indeed
have the interests of the coffee farmers at heart by paying a few cents
above market price for their supplies. Perhaps that's a grain of comfort!
Back to Contents
THE MYTH OF THE WILD FRONTIER
By Terence Skene
We shall begin with a few endings; bitter endings; satirical endings;
ironic endings. In John Ford's 1939 classic western, 'Stagecoach' the hero,
the Ringo Kid and the heroine, Dallas, are despised by the respectable
passengers on board the coach, in spite of Ringo's having saved them from a
band of marauding Apaches and Dallas having nursed the Major's Lady, through
child-birth during a rough and hazardous journey. Ringo, involved in a
vendetta, and a fugitive from the penitentiary and Dallas a young woman of
easy virtue are clearly unfit for decent society. The Sheriff contrives
their getaway so that they may, as he says, 'escape the blessings of
civilisation'..
In George Stevens 1953 adaptation of Jack Shaffer's novel,
'Shane" the hero, a world-weary gunfighter who has foresworn the gun,
inadvertently saves a township of terrified settlers from a bullying rancher
and his hired assassin. Wounded and deeply distressed that he had to resort
to killing again, he quickly leaves the settlement and loses himself in the
vast western desert, beyond the frontier.
Finally, in 'High Noon' Sheriff,
Will Kane, having single-handedly killed the members of the Miller Gang
while the citizens of Hadleyville cower behind locked doors, plucks the
badge from his shirt, throws it contemptuously into the dust and gallops out
of the town for ever, heading for the wilderness.
In these concluding
scenes, we begin to understand the nature of the Wild West Myth in which
Americans have invested so much imaginative effort during the 20th century
and which has been transmitted to the rest of the world by means of print,
the radio, the cinema and television. The Western Frontier as depicted in
scores of films is the dividing line between civilisation and the wilderness, between authority and total freedom, between
law and anarchy, between pacifism and violence, between religion and
atheism, between the homesteaders and the westerners; between the
respectable and the disreputable. At a deeper level, the frontier myth is
about erecting, maintaining and extending borders, all kinds of borders,
between races, between social and economic groups, between customs,
cultures, traditions and religions. At the centre of the myth there are
several ironies and contradictions created by human attempts to solve the
moral and spiritual dilemmas that human nature and fate produce in every
generation and in every clime.
The mythical hero is always a westerner, a
man be the wilderness, who saves civilisation not as a deliberate act, but
as an unintended consequence of some private, moral imperative he is
obliged to address. The westerner despises civilisation and is
contemptuous of the settlers who try to tame the wilderness. The
homesteaders are suspicious of and highly defensive towards the westerner,
whom they consider to be wild, uncouth, antisocial, unpredictable and
dangerous. Their values, their life-style, their ambitions, their concept
of their role in the world are all totally different. They do not understand
each other; they have nothing in common; they live in parallel universes and
their only relationship is generated by the violence occasioned by their
clash of cultures.
The westerner lives according to a set of clearly defined
principles. Above all he values his total independence, his freedom his
honour and dignity as a human being, values which he respects in other
people. As J. B. Books (John Wayne) says in 'The Shootist': 'I won't be
wronged. I won't be insulted and I won't be laid a hand on. I don't do these things to other
people and I require the same from them.' This attitude inevitably leads 'to
conflict as every westerner is obliged to respond to a challenge or any
kind of attack. The men of the frontier value courage, self-reliance,
loyalty, friendship, steadfastness above all. They detest treachery in any
form, surrender or flight, lying, cheating, bullying, and hypocrisy. They
totally reject civilisation and Christianity which they see as an
unprovoked assault upon their traditional way of life. Civilisation destroys
their wilderness and , their freedorm; Christianity is too narrow and
restrictive for survival on the frontier.
In 'The Plainsman' , Wild Bill
Hickock says, 'There ain't no Sundays west of Kansas City, no law west or
Hays city, and no God west of Carson City.'
Ben Rumson sums up the
westerner's attitude to civilisation and Christianity in 'Paint your Wagon'.
He says,' The West is where people can look civilisation straight ht the
eye and spit. And you don't have to please anybody. And you don't
have to love thy neighbour. It's wild, human and free. And al over
this nation, they preach against it every Sunday.'
Having rejected
Christianity, they reject forgiveness, turning the other cheek, the Day
of Judgement, Heaven and Hell and a life hereafter. All scores,
therefore, have to be settled on earth. Death is simply the
consequence bf
being born. As they said of an accident victim in 'Hondo', 'Everyone gets
dead. It was his turn.'
All this contradicts the values of the settler.
They wish to erect fences, establish property rights, create communities,
build towns with streets, churches, schools, gaols, rail roads, shops and
factories, impose law and order, set moral standards, recognise economic and
social class differences, while doing their utmost to discourage saloons,
music-halls, gambling joints and houses of ill repute. The women have a tendency towards militant Puritanism in
their religious observance whereas the men are more liberal, regarding
church-going as a social ob1igation and a proof of honesty and
respectability.
When our own borders are transgressed and our personal
space is invaded our susceptibilities become inflamed. In the myth of the
wild west frontier, where civilisation encounters the wilderness, hostility
usually erupts, and here gunfighters find ready employment. Shane, the
gun-fighter, (played by Alan Ladd) anxious to escape his past, is riding
west into the Wilderness, away from the frontier, when fate leads him into
the sort of trap he is trying to avoid, a turf war between a rancher and a
group of settlers. Shane is a westerner, bound by the westerner's code,
as indeed is Ryker the rancher, but economic necessity, frustration and
impatience have forced him to bully and threaten the homesteaders to
surrender their land to him, thus violating the code of the wilderness. In addition, his men,
stupidly and gratuitously insult Shane, a challenge which he cannot ignore, and so an
ironic fate and the code of the West align him with Joe Starrett, the leader of the
settlers, whose world, as Shane knows
full well is fair set to destroy his wilderness. Circumstances thus prevent
his continuing his journey westward until he has visited his vengeance upon
the cowboys who invaded his personal space. Ryker has also engaged a
notorious gunfighter, Jack Wilson, to intimidate the settlers who, being
farmers and men of peace, have no answer to this menace and must, therefore,
abandon their homes and livelihood.
The myth reveals to us the irony of this
situation. Civilisation abhors violence, but in order to survive, must
employ violence: make war to preserve peace.
In 'High Noon' the Sheriff,
Will Kane (played by Gary Cooper) is about to step down. Like Shane he is a
westerner, weary of violence and conflict, about to travel westward into the
wilderness with his new wife, a Quaker (played by Grace Kelly). However,
fate and the code of the West prevent it. The leader of the Miller Gang has
been prematurely released from a prison in the East and he is returning to
Hadleyville, the scene of his many crimes, so that he and his gang may
settle scores with the Sheriff who arrested him, in fulfilling his duty to
maintain law and order in the town. The townsfolk try to persuade Will Kane
to flee the town, arguing that if he is absent, the Miller gang will simply
depart without creating any damage. However, flight is not an option for the
Sheriff, bound as he is by the code to face his challengers. His wife, a
pacifist, refuses to support him in confronting the Millers as do the people
of Hadleyville. One group, the rougher element who frequent the saloon and
suffer the censure of the respectable people, are in favour of the Millers,
anticipating they will reinstate a period of lawlessness in the town; the
other, the church-goers, the businessmen and the property-owners, argue that
it is the Sheriff's duty to protect the town since he is paid to do so. The
Minister, a pacifist, reflects the Church's quandary; he cannot advise his
parishioners to kill, but on the other hand he is unable to protect them
against the killers. He says the Church has nothing to advise in such a
situation. Rejecting violent action on their own part and recognising their
vulnerability, the townsfolk take refuge behind locked doors. The
Sheriff is obliged, therefore, to face the four outlaws on his own.
The
great western heroes are all tragic figures, because fate decrees that their
dreams cannot be fulfilled and that in saving the innocent they must violate
their own code. The myth implies that doing good always requires sacrifice
and also, that in doing good, it is difficult to avoid doing harm. Shane
realises that his violent past-life prohibits any hope of reconciliation
with civilisation; and to add to his distress, in order to save Joe
Starrett's life he has to stun him with his gun, a deed that is anathema to
the Western code, and one for which he can never forgive himself. Will Kane tries hard to foreswear violence
but fate acts against him and his wife, who, impulsively betraying her
pacifist beliefs, to save his life, shoots one of the gangsters in the back,
a crime which will haunt them both for as long as they live.
The twentieth
century myth of the wild west demonstrates the fact that myths are still
germinating and flourishing in our scientific age, because they expose an
aspect of human experience with which we struggle and for which we can find
no resolution. A myth is not a description of a one-off event but an account
of an ongoing situation. The wild west myth is a particularly bleak one
dwelling as it does upon our inability to reconcile our aspiration to foster
enlightened and civilised values with our need to protect what we regard as
our own frontiers, personal and communal, against the incursions of malign
forces. How many barriers we erect to quieten so many fears! How many
conflicts we engage in as a result! The myth reflects our concerns that
civilised behaviour and violence are not compatible, but also our doubts
that pacifism is a luxury a free state cannot afford.
However, this myth
possesses an oracular quality that leaves room for hope. Although the hero's
departure is overshadowed by bitterness and disillusionment, he is headed
westward beyond the frontier where the wilderness stretches into the
unknown. Here, he may find at last the contentment and salvation he seeks.
This unknown territory without borders and dimensions, is the future, the
realm of infinite possibilities, of second chances, the Golden City, the New
,Jerusalem of which the hymn writers sing, where all aspirations are
fulfilled, guilt is shed and hope, blessed, sustaining hope, dwells for
ever. Let us keep singing the hymn by all means but let us also pay heed to
the message of the Myth.
Back to contents
HUMAN NATURE
By Dr John Robinson
There can be few subjects that philosophers, theologians and indeed
researchers in the fields of psychology, medicine and biology have been more
intrigued by than human nature.
Convinced that it "ad an obligation to integrate recent advances in
our understanding of human nature the Royal Society of Edinburgh brought
together international groups with expertise in medical genetics, structural
biology, developmental psychology, neuropsychology, cognitive neuroscience,
evolutionary psychology, social anthropology, social psychology, forensic
medicine, philosophy, philosophical theology and divinity to discuss the
subject. The outcome of their deliberations was published last year by the
Royal Society in a book entitled Human Nature'. The motivation for
such a comprehensive multi-disciplinary approach to the subject came from
the view that many of today's advances in science that impinge on human
nature have their greatest impact, not at the centre of their discipline,
but at the interface with other disciplines. Gone are the days when
pronouncements regarding human nature solely involve philosophers and theologians.
The dominant influence that Bible teaching once had on
moulding our thoughts and actions has long since given way to the impact
of scientific discoveries that reveal the enormous complexity of who and
what we are. Add to this the sensationalism that so often is used by the
media to report new scientific findings and the impact on human nature, more
often than not, falls well outwith the bounds of rational thought and
reasoned debate. It was against this background that the Royal Society
experts held their deliberations.
Whilst accepting that consciousness is essential to the discussion of our
origin, nature and destiny the medical geneticists in the group focussed on
the need for consciousness to have a physical substrate made up of molecules and cells
acquired from but
ancestors. They were seeking an answer to the question, how much of what we
are and what we become is inherited and how much is imposed by physical
constraints on our development froth the time we were a newly fertilized
egg, and incidentally when over one-third of a million of us could be fitted
into a cubic centimetre, until the time we became an adult? Recent advances
in our scientific understanding of the genetic factors that influence our
personality raise the important ethical question of how far down the
gene-manipulation route should we go for the perceived benefit of
humanity. In the absence of informed public debate and with a media view
that we are more interested in watching the less savoury aspects of human
nature, as expressed in TV programmes such as Big Brother, than discussing
ways to improve it, decisions regarding the application of science for the
improvement of human nature are likely to be based more on fear and
prejudice than reasoned debate.
In addressing what is known about our
evolutionary history and its impact on human nature, evolutionary
biologists express divergent views. Most accept that it is reasonable to
look at human nature in the context of the biological advantage that flowed
from millions of years of natural selection, but point out that our moral
evolution embraces an additional environmental dimension involving cultural
traditions and religious beliefs. One evolutionary biologist however draws
on examples from animal studies to argue that even our moral standards may
be solely genetic in origin. Yet another is adamant that it is "high
time we recognised that our humanity, far from having been set for all time
as an evolutionary legacy from our hunter-gatherer past, is something that
we have continually to work at, and for which we alone must bear
responsibility". That surely is evidence that there is at least one
evolutionary biologist cum anthropologist who possesses a modicum of
Unitarianism!
In grappling to understand the complexity of human consciousness, the
neurobiologists and cognitive neuroscientists present information on the
neuronal pathways and substrates within the brain relating to two of
humankind's most important capacities, seeing ,and remembering, which in
turn facilitate reasoning. In terms of the structure and chemistry of the
brain, humans and animals are very similar, yet we stand apart from all
other animals with regard to our ability to recall and reason. Monkeys for
example appear to see the world much the same as we do yet lack the ability
to programme the events within their environment in order to rehearse past
experiences for the purpose of planning for the future. At this point you
may be wondering why anyone should want to unravel the complexities of human
consciousness anyway. A major justification of course is to gain a better
understanding of conditions such as autism and Alzheimer's disease for
which there is now cautious optimism amongst neuro and cognitive scientists for the development, from
their research, of effective
treatments. Another justification is the exploration of the social, ethical
and theological components of human nature for these are central to our
everyday living.
Our success as a species in evolutionary terms is
regarded
by Andrew Whiten, Professor of Evolutionary and Development Psychology
at the University of St Andrews; to lie in our unique capacity for
"cognitive social interpenetration", or in other Words, our
ability to know intuitively what others are thinking; Herein, as he puts
it "lay the evolutionary advantage by which our predecessors were able
to compete and survive, and herein also lies a vital clue to understanding
human nature, culture and society". Clearly, existence of such a
phenomenon means that much of what defines and dictates the nature of human
nature is our social mentality. But an inevitable consequence of our social
mentality is dependency on others. As Anthony O'Hear, Director of the Royal Institute
of Philosophy in London reminds us we owe to others,
our language, our family our locality, our nation, our culture, our
education and our horizons and aspirations. W, are a multiple dependency
species but, as O'Hear points out, contemporary society is posing major
threats to multiple dependency. We are losing respect for virtually
everything in society that has made us what .we are; our families, our
friends, our local communities, institutions, seats of learning law and
order, other countries and their traditions, cultures and religious faiths.
In so doing we are threatening "the essential fabric" of our social
being and denying its very existence. From the privileged position that we
are in, it is our duty to acknowledge our indebtedness to others, both past
and present and to behave and act in a manner that recognises our obligation
to the well-being of future generations, yet contemporary human nature
seems to be downgrading the importance of these maxims; maxims which
religious leaders would regard as matters of the soul.
But as Keith Ward,
Emeritus Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford points out in his
writings on "Human Nature and the Soul", official doctrines of the
human soul are very different from popular understanding of it. In
Hinduism the soul as the basis of one's being and consciousness, has always
been regarded as being spiritual. In the Semitic religious traditions of
Judaism Christianity and Islam, however, this is not the case. For them the origin of human life is dust into which
God breathed life. The Soul,
whatever it is, did not exist before the body nor could it exist without the
body. In the subsequent development of Christianity, it was the earlier
philosophy of Aristotle that influenced thinking regarding the human soul,
defining it as the "Form" of a living body. In so much as
everything has "Form" Aristotle's view was that there were many
different souls, intellectual or human, animal and indeed vegetable. Thus the
distinction between man and animals, or indeed any other material form,
involved a distinction between types of soul. For human beings, the human
soul, as Aristotle envisaged it in the "Form" of the person,
created "the capacity within matter to imagine and reflect on
information obtained from the environment..." It was only after the birth of Jesus and under the influence of St Angustine and almost a
thousand years later, St Thomas Aquinas, that the Christian tradition
evolved to "know and love a purely spiritual reality, God", with
the "breath of life" becoming synonymous with the soul. For
Aquinas, the intellectual or human soul was acquired at 60 days after
conception. Up to that point, he regarded human embryos and foetuses as
having vegetable or animal souls which God destroyed and replaced with human
souls. For Muslims the intellectual soul does not occur until 120 days of
pregnancy and for the Jewish tradition, it is when the head of the baby
exits the birth canal. You may well be wondering what all this history
regarding the religious origin of the soul has got to do with human nature;
well in the context of modern society quite a lot. It plays an important
part in how we deal with, or more precisely how the divergent views within
and between religions regarding the sanctity of human life, deals with
issues such as abortion and the use of research involving the genetic
manipulation of embryos for the prevention of debilitating diseases. It
enters into the debate regarding euthanasia. It provides the historic
perspective for our reverence for life. Yet for many of us, the orthodox
Christian doctrine also seems to "dehumanise human nature". It
comes across as antagonistic to reason and learning. It demands that we
confirm to creeds and dogmas thereby stifling human intellect which is the
life blood of human nature. No wonder then that one of the best ways of
keeping the seat opposite you on the train free to stretch our your legs is
to say to the person inquiring of you if it is free, "Yes it is, please
sit down, I want to talk to you about God!"
Passionate Unitarians, if that is not a contradiction in
terms, believe that Unitarianism embraces the best attributes of human
nature. It is charitable and humane, alert to the changing needs of society
and prepared to evolve its moral philosophy to meet these needs. It is built
on tolerance, reason and freedom. I was pleased to read that in his address
to Aberdeen College graduates recently, Sir Ian Wood, emphasised that
tolerance was one of the greatest skills that they could take away with them
into the workplace. "Your progress in life", he said, "is not
just about getting across your good ideas and concepts, but about listening
and learning - across languages, across cultures, between faiths and
different value systems". What could be more Unitarian than that? With
regard to reason the current rate of acquisition of scientific information
in the field of molecular genetics and its application for the perceived
benefit of humankind raises important moral and ethical issues requiring
reasoned scientific debate and in so doing poses new questions regarding the
contribution and relevance of orthodox Christian teaching to human nature,
as we ." now view it. Ever mindful that a central feature of human
nature is our dependence on others, that brings into play
"freedom"; freedom which is viewed in the context of our
relationships with others, is sensitive to the needs of others and, which
has as its goal a fairer distribution of earth's resources to those in need.
It, therefore, seems to me that, with its religious faith founded on
rational conviction, Unitarianism is uniquely placed to enrich and
strengthen all that is good in human nature.
(Dr Robinson is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh)
Back to contents
|