This sentence is taken from the title of one of Adam Zagajewski's poems, which I happened to find on the last page of The New Yorker from September 24th, 2001. I saved this particular issue from The New Yorker because it was put out in the wake of the 9/11 tragedy. At first glance, the cover looks like it is entirely black, but holding it up to the light I see it is the black outline of the Twin Towers against a charcoal black background. For a moment I feel that I am free falling as I remember the day the world went dark.
I have mixed emotions about The New Yorker. I feel I ought to be blown away by every story and poem I read in it because, after all, it is The New Yorker, and the editors at this magazine are so much more sophisticated and illustrious than I could ever hope to be. But then, I must admit that I am not blown away by most of what the magazine publishes because what most of the fiction and poetry acutely lack is a sense of vulnerability from the author. The fiction is cleverly written. It is well-written, and the pacing is almost always flawless, but I am rarely able to lose myself in it because I feel that I am reading a story written for The New Yorker, and not seeing into someone's soul. In the case of Zagajewski's poem, though, I was able to feel his vulnerability. I read the poem aloud four times in a row, letting his exquisite language dance off my tongue. I have not read something so beautiful in quite some time.
My eyes then were caught up by a full-page advertisement from the ACLU opposite the poem. It screams out in bold letters: WHAT WOULD YOU RATHER LOSE? a. CONTROL OVER YOUR DAUGHTER'S REPRODUCTIVE DECISIONS b. YOUR DAUGHTER In the center is the grave of Rebecca Bell: 1971-1988. She died from an illegal, botched abortion. My immediate reaction was one of horror and sadness - for Rebecca and for her parents. I didn't even think of the baby that had been aborted, for that was not the advertisement's intention. Rebecca Bell's grave stands at the center, but why does it not read: Rebecca Bell: 1971-1988 and the unborn child of Rebecca Bell: 1988-1988? The child is not mentioned, it is not even an afterthought. It is Rebecca Bell who matters, and more important than Rebecca Bell, Rebecca Bell's reproductive rights.
Today is the Sunday of Orthodoxy and Father gave a very heartfelt, powerful sermon about our responsibilities as Orthodox Christians - to proclaim the truth always, just as the defenders of the Icons did. Too often we do not proclaim the truth, and, in fact, nod our heads at falsehoods because we are afraid to offend, while the saints who we commemorate each day lost their very lives.
There are two falsehoods that are being propagated today - 1. That we all believe in the same God, and 2. That abortion is a right and not an atrocity. We tread lightly around these issues. In fact, very often we are ashamed. Someone at the takeout restaurant says - It doesn't matter in the end what church you go to. It's all the same. I nod, smile, and pick up my orange chicken and rice. It's inconvenient to enter into a discussion. I want to eat my orange chicken. I don't want to have any awkwardness the next time I come in for takeout, so I agree to something that I know is not the truth. At dinner with an old friend, I complain about my experience with Curves, the workout center for women. She exclaims - Did you know they donate a huge amount of money to ProLife groups? - Oh, I didn't know, I respond. Why did I not say - I'm ProLife. I didn't want to spoil the meal. I didn't want there to be an uncomfortable silence, or an argument. I, in a sense, agreed with her that ProLife is wrong. Now I am ashamed of myself. I too, who claim to have the truth, the one, undivided Holy Catholic Apostolic Church, am afraid to speak the truth because I have been conditioned to be polite at all times. But today I am putting this away. I will speak the truth always, because it is my responsibility to speak the truth. It is not a suggestion from Christ. It is a command. The priest and bishops are not the sole guardians of the Faith. I am a full member of the Church. I too must be a guardian of the Faith.
Yes, try to praise the mutilated world. Say it is a good thing for women to have innocent lives torn from their very flesh. Say Rebecca's rights are more important than the innocent child's. Be polite, nod. Say - Blessed are the wombs that never bore and the paps which never gave suck. Call good evil and evil good. Yes, try to praise the mutilated world. But also remember. Yes, remember, we will have to give an account for it. We will have to give an account of what was given to us and how we protected it.
3 comments:
That was very moving, Matushka. I think that Christians struggle with being polite and politically correct all the time, at least I do. I also ask God to give me the strength, courage, and humility that our Holy Saints had. May He continue to have mercy on my soul, and through the prayers of the Saints, give me what I need to always declare His presence in my life and how I live my life!
Thank you for your words...they are hopeful and comforting!
This is such a difficult issue-- when to speak and be bold and when to be silent. I tend to lie low partly for the reasons you describe--and your words do give me pause--but also because the instances in which I see, hear, or witness something that I disagree with or that runs contrary to what I value is so commonplace and countless, that I wouldn't know where to begin to address them. Just watching TV can make me ill. But your words do make me think that maybe there are specific person-to-person encounters in which I am implicitly being asked to voice what I believe, and those are the ones I will be held responsible for, not, say, launching a campaign against every instance of unjust media manipulation, like the ACLU advertisement, which for me feels futile.
Ducky! (I changed my blogger name, but you know who I am)
My biggest problem is that I am not good at 'diplomatically' discussing these things with people of opposing views or people who just don't know about Orthodoxy. I floored an insurance agent when the conversation turned to religion (he is devote Catholic) when I mentioned that while attending an Orthodox Liturgy might fulfill his "mass requirement," he could not receive Holy Communion -- and that, in fact, if an Orthodox priest were to KNOWING commune and unorthodox person he could be defrocked. Why did I tell him that? He never mentioned anything about attempting to receive Holy Communion. I just sense that 'we are two lungs' bit around the corner and my defenses flared up. Thank goodness I was able to end the conversation soon after that or I would have completely crossed the line from defense of Orthodoxy into triumphalism (if I hadn't already).
Post a Comment