The money collectors are out on
street corners in honour of the Good Friday Children’s Hospital appeal. I try not to resent the rattling of
tins at every intersection I pass through on my way home from the airport. One of my daughters is off to China
with her boyfriend and we were up at 4.45 am in order to make their flight to
Sydney and from there onto Shanghai.
street corners in honour of the Good Friday Children’s Hospital appeal. I try not to resent the rattling of
tins at every intersection I pass through on my way home from the airport. One of my daughters is off to China
with her boyfriend and we were up at 4.45 am in order to make their flight to
Sydney and from there onto Shanghai.
Most years I relish the quiet of
Good Friday but this Good Friday has already been anything but quiet. It’s the middle of the day before I
have a chance to sit down and write.
Good Friday but this Good Friday has already been anything but quiet. It’s the middle of the day before I
have a chance to sit down and write.
Yesterday a free-standing brick
wall on a construction site fell over in Carlton killing two young people and
critically injuring a third. An
hour or so later a couple of suburbs away in Richmond a truck clipped a car at
a busy intersection, mounted the curb and then struck a fourteen year old
schoolgirl on her way from home.
She died at the scene.
wall on a construction site fell over in Carlton killing two young people and
critically injuring a third. An
hour or so later a couple of suburbs away in Richmond a truck clipped a car at
a busy intersection, mounted the curb and then struck a fourteen year old
schoolgirl on her way from home.
She died at the scene.
Two freak accidents which have left
me waiting for a third and so frightening on Holy Thursday, the Thursday before
Easter, or so it has been named in
my family on my mother’s side for generations. Holy Thursday and the last supper.
me waiting for a third and so frightening on Holy Thursday, the Thursday before
Easter, or so it has been named in
my family on my mother’s side for generations. Holy Thursday and the last supper.
I can only think of the families of
those young people who died, through no fault of their own. A freak accident. In the wrong place at the wrong time
and try as I might everything else pales into insignificance.
those young people who died, through no fault of their own. A freak accident. In the wrong place at the wrong time
and try as I might everything else pales into insignificance.
The people rattling their tins
offer broad and coaxing smiles –
give give give. Most are
dressed in uniform, from the fire brigade, to the SES, even school kids. Collectors with arm bands and bright
coloured tins. All collect for
charity.
offer broad and coaxing smiles –
give give give. Most are
dressed in uniform, from the fire brigade, to the SES, even school kids. Collectors with arm bands and bright
coloured tins. All collect for
charity.
On the way home from the airport
another daughter and I stopped in Carlton at Baker’s Delight to buy some bread and encountered a family of fire
brigade collecting folk, father, mother and a few children. They were all dressed in fireman’s
overalls and rattling their tins in the faces of diners at one of the open air
cafes where patrons enjoy their meals on the street footpath.
another daughter and I stopped in Carlton at Baker’s Delight to buy some bread and encountered a family of fire
brigade collecting folk, father, mother and a few children. They were all dressed in fireman’s
overalls and rattling their tins in the faces of diners at one of the open air
cafes where patrons enjoy their meals on the street footpath.
I tried hard not to judge. All in a good cause and people were
polite and agreeable but inside my head I thought the collectors were
intrusive.
polite and agreeable but inside my head I thought the collectors were
intrusive.
It’s not a bad thing I know but
still the part of me that resiles from too much generosity cringes. Maybe such ‘begging’ has the hall mark
of my overly Catholic childhood where excess generosity hid all sorts of
atrocities.
still the part of me that resiles from too much generosity cringes. Maybe such ‘begging’ has the hall mark
of my overly Catholic childhood where excess generosity hid all sorts of
atrocities.
It’s sometimes hard to put the good
deeds of the church up against the things that go on behind closed doors – the
abuses, not just of children, but of others who are powerless to protect
themselves.
deeds of the church up against the things that go on behind closed doors – the
abuses, not just of children, but of others who are powerless to protect
themselves.
I went to an Anglican service on
Wednesday night where one of my daughters sang in the choir. I went to listen to her singing but the
religious elements were to the fore,
not that they convinced me.
Wednesday night where one of my daughters sang in the choir. I went to listen to her singing but the
religious elements were to the fore,
not that they convinced me.
I enjoyed the spectacle, the back
and forth chanting across the church hall, the slow extinguishing of six of the
seven candles in the centre of the church until a church helper in black robes
took the last one from the church –
to symbolise Christ’s death or so it said in the accompanying pamphlet –
and we were left in darkness.
and forth chanting across the church hall, the slow extinguishing of six of the
seven candles in the centre of the church until a church helper in black robes
took the last one from the church –
to symbolise Christ’s death or so it said in the accompanying pamphlet –
and we were left in darkness.
As I looked around at some of the
people in the church, those whom I imagined had arrived out of conviction
rather than from a wish to hear their children sing, I felt a twinge of
jealousy.
people in the church, those whom I imagined had arrived out of conviction
rather than from a wish to hear their children sing, I felt a twinge of
jealousy.
Oh, to believe. To have such conviction, and a certain
view the world and our place in it. I have no such certainty. As much as a part of me admires them their confidence,
another part of me shudders.
view the world and our place in it. I have no such certainty. As much as a part of me admires them their confidence,
another part of me shudders.
And there’s a shut out quality for
those who don’t believe.
those who don’t believe.
I felt this as a child growing up
within the Catholic church. There
was ‘us’ and there was ‘them’. And
belonging to the ‘us’ part of the equation offered security. We were on the right path, the one true
faith. The rest, the poor misguided souls were headed elsewhere.
within the Catholic church. There
was ‘us’ and there was ‘them’. And
belonging to the ‘us’ part of the equation offered security. We were on the right path, the one true
faith. The rest, the poor misguided souls were headed elsewhere.
We could pity them. We could have some level of respect for
their mistaken ways but we were on the side of right and might and all was
well.
their mistaken ways but we were on the side of right and might and all was
well.
My mother’s church from whence some of my sense of certainty first sprang.
I lost that certainty a long time
ago but these days when I see
signs of it elsewhere, and not just within religious institutions – it exists
in football clubs, political parties, professional groups – I can feel the same
cringe of exclusion, but this time from the other side, from that of the
outsider.
ago but these days when I see
signs of it elsewhere, and not just within religious institutions – it exists
in football clubs, political parties, professional groups – I can feel the same
cringe of exclusion, but this time from the other side, from that of the
outsider.
The same fear of and longing to
belong.
belong.
What a thoughtful post on the conflicts around belonging. I was lucky that my parents held their Anglicanism very lightly, and in fact had drifted away themselves before I did, just before I went to university.
I've never felt that exclusion. I've always felt that all people are entitled to their own beliefs and faiths, so there is no need to feel excluded because I don't believe what my best friend believes. I'm happy with my place in the world, without needing to belong to any particular group, religion, faith.
Here we tend to call Holy Thursday Maundy Thursday. When I was a child everything closed on Good Friday – it was thought of as a really Holy Day. Now everything opens and it is judged a holiday.
As to the sense of belonging – I do know exactly what you mean – I think unless we are exceptional, we all have that feeling.
As an introvert living in an extrovert world, belonging is sometimes an issue. A bit of overwhelming into a quiet life.
As to my faith, I have always had a sense of belonging. I have been treated extremely badly by some people, and that has scarred my life. But not pushed me away from my understanding of faithfulness. As for others, the ones for whom I feel sad are those who are in some ways uncomfortable in their spiritual life; those who aren't sure where they are, or where they belong.
Blessings and Bear hugs!
Bears Noting
They were such a random tragedies in our city yesterday. Both cut me deeply. Oh, sorry to the lady in Syria for the loss of your toddler son who was just blown up. Close to home always seems more important.
I think, emphasis on think, I am past the need to belong. I also think being past the need to belong could be dangerous. Thought provoking thing to bring up. I just don't get religion at all, and perhaps I envy those who have faith but scientific endeavour does excite me.
Belief and belonging. Big topics. I tend to differentiate between ‘belief’ and ‘faith’.
THE NATURE OF BELIEFS
The thing about beliefs is
they don't need to be true.
That's not their job.
They're there because
so many things aren't true.
Nature abhors a vacuum.
19th December 1996
The Bible say faith is “the assured expectation of things hoped for, the evident demonstration of realities though not beheld” (Heb. 11:1) and that’s the difference: faith, to my mind, has to be based on evidence. ‘Evidence’, however, as any criminal lawyer will tell you, is open to interpretation. Paul, again, wrote: “For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” (Rom. 1:20). As far as he was concerned the natural world was all the proof we needed of intelligent design. Not all scientists have seen it that way.
People can choose to believe in anything. They say things like, “I believe Dad’s in a better place now,” without any empirical evidence of life after death; they believe the world’s flat, they believe in the tooth fairy, Santa and true love. Believing in something is a little different—I suppose just as loving and being in love are different—and if you were to ask me what I believed in you’d give me moment to pause. [I have in fact paused for several minutes mulling over what to write next.] I think the meaning of life is the answer. Life has no intrinsic meaning any more than the two lumps of hematite that sit on the shelf in my office have meaning; that have had meaning imposed on them; they are significant to me. I believe in meaning. Life should mean something. Meaning is the meaning of life. No one should live a meaningless life. What I’m doing this very minute means something ergo I am truly alive as I write this.
Belongingness is another issue. Jung believed that our primary drive was to belong; Freud said sex was behind everything; Adler, not unreasonably, considered our need to master things our dominant trait, whereas the Beatles maintained all we needed was love. I’ve never belonged. I’ve been a part of many social groups both secular and religious but I’ve always struggled to feel I was ‘one of the boys’. I think being a writer has been the problem here, the tendency to stand to the side and observe rather than allow myself to be fully integrated. Also I’ve tended to find myself trust into leadership roles and that always sets one apart from the group. Again, I would say that my own personal primary drive is to live a meaningful life.
WISDOM
There are so many types of truth.
Some are simply answers
others are good reasons.
There are excuses too,
sad, watered-down half-truths,
and, of course, platitudes and lies.
Some people refuse to count them.
The deepest truths are called meanings
which don't only answer,
they explain or excuse.
Then comes understanding
and finally insight:
the power to look within and
not be afraid of the dark.
31st August 1997
I’ve no poems about charity. Go figure.
How to do it, how to do it? Parents with a core belief, faithfully rearing children to believe the true belief. Suddenly a child says he is gay. A daughter is pregnant. I gave up on insitutions when I was a teenager. Little is more destructive than institutionalized belief, not only for the outsiders, but for the insiders.
I enjoyed this very much. With an atheist father and catholic mom, the conflict within the family left me, still leaves me, envying those who belong to a religious organization, and believe based on what the organization tells them. But for me actual history and logic always gets in the way of the “approved” stories.
I love Joanne's comment. I have never felt excluded for not believing in a religion. I shed religion starting in my late teens and finally and completely in my mid-20s. as humans I think we feel a need to belong and I remember feeling that, wanting to belong to a group. it never ended well for me whenever I managed to make myself part of one. I am not a conformist and my unwillingness to conform to all the 'rules' of the group always ended with a shunning. I learned that it is better to not belong than to belong and then be shunned.
I wonder just how certain is the certainty of religious folk. They often seem very defensive about the mere existence of agnosticism and atheism, as if someone's trying to force them to be that way also (historically, it's been just the opposite). I think they just don't like to be reminded that such different ways of thinking is possible.
Lucky you, Juliet to have parents who drifted away from religious conviction before you did. It leaves you freer to choose. Thanks, Juliet.
You're fortunate, too, River, to be spared the sense of exclusion that comes out of wanting to belong. I wish I could say the same for myself, but as you'd know by now, I can't.
Thanks, River.
The sense of specialness from the Good Friday shut down has all but disappeared here too, Pat. Despite my limited religiosity I have enjoyed the quiet and sense of peace such a closed down day brought. But it seems it's over now. Even Good Friday can be busy.
Thanks, Pat.
Tanks for the blessings and bear hugs, Rob-bear. I might seem to you to be one of those who is uncertain as to where she belongs, but I think not. As much as I long for a sense of belonging, I experience it at times in various places, in fits and starts, but most of all within my family.
Thanks, Rob-bear.
I'm still struggling with my feelings about those who died in that wall collapse in Melbourne and the fourteen year old killed by the wayward truck, all on Maundy Thursday. I think of their families including as you say those further from home, the woman in Syria too.
The dead ones are gone, but the families left behind must go through the agonies of grieving. And that's where some religious practices can help, I imagine. though not for me, and you too by the sound of things.
Thanks, Andrew.
Thanks for all the poems, Jim. Poetry suits such lofty concerns. I'm with you on the importance of finding some meaning in our lives, and how subjective it is. Life without meaning is the worst thing of all, which is perhaps why we go on about our beliefs so much. they can become anchor points, as long as we can occasionally up anchor and settle in new locations from time to time to get a broader perspective. Otherwise we tend to get stuck.
Thanks again, Jim
Institutionalised beliefs are problematic as you say, Joanne. They cause people to get stuck in illusions and false promises. You were lucky to be able to abandon the in your teens. It took me a little longer.
Thanks, Joanne.
An atheist father and Catholic mother, Anthony! It sounds like you were caught in the extremes. It must have been hard at times, but I wonder whether it also nurtured your talents in some ways.
Thanks, Anthony.
I agree, ellen, better never to belong than to find yourself once included and then sent away. That's one of the worst feelings of all, to be ejected from inside. It's different though if we choose to take ourselves outside. That sort of escape can feel most liberating.
Thanks, Ellen.
It is hard for some folks to recognise there are multiple perspectives on almost everything. It's a child's way of thinking perhaps, a young child with a deep wish for certainty and absolutes. Fortunately most of us grow out of that level of certainty and some of us can even bear doubt, complexity, contradictions, paradox and multiplicity.
Thanks, Kirk.
I left christianity some time ago. I attended a Christian celebration at Christmas 2012 and was not even moved to sing along with the few hymns and psalms I still remembered. I've always been an outsider. I find it funny, sad and annoying that people will forever try and include one into their religious activities when they realise one is on the margins of society. I've stopped running the other way. I'm just simply not impressed any longer.