Tuesday, February 8, 2011

A Bruised Heart in Blog Post Form

Torrey students: Quadratus had their first Reynolds session today. I told my group right before it that I wasn't ready. There were too many things reeling in my head, too many triumphs and tears throughout the day to end it with a Reynolds session, especially on Plato's Symposium. But that is exactly what happened. The result? I checked off number 96 on the "101 Things To Do in Torrey Before You Graduate" list: Cry in session.

Non-Torrey students: Imagine being hurt, then putting on a happy face and trying to tell yourself and everyone else that it will be okay, and then having a knife thrust into your heart. In a very academically, mind-boggling way. Then add in a lot of awkwardness. That was my night.

We talked about a lot of things this session. One of my favorite topics of conversation (which I wish I was better versed in) is the down-fall of American culture and Western civilization, which is also one of Dr. Reynolds' favorite topics of conversation. Which means we spent a lot of time talking about what love is according to our culture and comparing it with love according to Plato.

We talked about beauty and wisdom, and how rare it is to find a person who genuinely has both. It struck me how true that is. Beauty takes a lot of time and a lot of effort. So does the pursuit of wisdom. People cannot feasibly be drop-dead gorgeous and have time to become genuinely wise. Those who pretend to do are not doing at least one of those things to the fullest capacity. Instead, those who are good-looking have to spend their time keeping up appearances, not learning. They can bluff their way through school and life if they want, but the mark of a truly strong person is one who can get through life by bluffing (or with charm) but chooses to use intellect instead. Those who prefer the charm route can do so, but they will have to hire someone to do the brain work behind it. Classic example (and I am honestly not trying to pick on Obama with this example): Who was elected president? Obama. Who writes Obama's speeches and who does the hard work of running the country? Speech-writers and the president's cabinet. This leads to the question: What happens in a culture where the good-looking people's lines are written by the bad-looking (but smart) people? The smart people run the country but the good-looking people think they do.

Now, at this point you are probably wondering one or more of the following (unless you were actually in this session)...

1. Aren't you being a little self-righteous? After all, just because someone is born good-looking, that doesn't mean they are doomed to be stupid, right?

2. Isn't it possible to get good grades and spend time on your looks? After all, school doesn't take that much time!

My response to number 1: Born good-looking gives you a ridiculous advantage in this culture. Most are tempted to use this advantage - after all, who wouldn't? The word that came to mind during session was "integrity." Doing the work, even though you could get away with not doing it.

My response to number 2: Wisdom is not the same thing as schooling. True wisdom is not spitting out answers on tests. True wisdom is reading and thinking. This type of wisdom takes time. It takes a lifetime. As I looked around Dr. Reynolds' office, the majority of wall space was covered in bookshelves filled with books, all of which contain wisdom. That much reading, or even a fraction of it takes time, effort, and a love for it.

We also discussed (and by "we," I mean everyone else, because I spent most of the class period just trying to process what was being said) that right before a culture is destroyed, historically, it does not appreciate its blessings. Instead, it takes the blessings it is given and wants more. (We cited Plato for this, but I honestly don't think you care what the citation is, and I don't remember it anyway.) If this is true, our culture is approaching destruction very soon because everything is taken for granted: education, family, food, friends, books, transportation. In any time before this, none of these things were taken for granted, especially not education. Dr. Reynolds told us about his grandfather who only received an 8th grade education. And there we sat with not only a high school education but also enrolled in college, and not just any college, but a part of the Torrey Honors Institute, reading the greatest works of Western civilization. Dr. Reynolds told us that his grandfather would look at us and ask, "How can you possibly be unhappy?" Yet, each and every day we complain about how we want more. We don't appreciate our blessings, and that will lead to our downfall.

We talked about another interesting topic that explained Torrey and education to me in a way that helps me understand when we don't come to an answer in session. Education is about going in circles. We can either go "further in and further up" as Lewis says, or we can go somewhere. I have always valued the destination more than the process. Now, I am learning to value the process and the learning more than the destination and answer.

Throughout all this, we talked about love, the theme of Symposium. We talked about what it truly means to love. We talked about sacrificing for the one you love. We talked about how love implies loving something. Love implies a beloved. All the dialogues talk about "love" the thing, but not the real love, which implies a beloved and an action. It is not something idependent of itself.

Amidst all of this, we did some thinking about our own love relationships, most notably with our parents. We also talked about marriage relationships. These are both great learning instances, but it hit quite close to home. Before coming to session, I talked to my mom on the phone. My dad is not talking to my mom or my brother, after going for a week in January without talking to me. Throughout session, my eyes would tear up when this topic came up, but I made it through. Near the end, however, Mrs. Reynolds came in, and Dr. Reynolds asked her to give the last word in the discussion. We had talked about how in romantic movies, the credits roll at the happiest time of the movie. In real life, the credits roll in a hospital, with at least one person in intense pain. She described what I deem as the truest love: Philip Johnson, one of the leaders in thought of the idea of Torrey, is in the hospital, and his wife is by his side, helping him and loving him. That was when I lost it. My family is in much of the same situation. My mom is not in a hospital, but she is disabled, hurting, and confined to a bed most of the day. My dad is not there with her. He avoids her and her children, tells her she would just get better if only she would try, makes his son walk seven miles home from school because he doesn't feel like driving to pick him up, and refuses to talk to his daughter even though she begs him that she will do anything if he will just love her. Love can hurt. A lot. Which is why it's so dangerous.

After this session, I did not know what to do. How do you respond to three hours of discovering that you feel your family doesn't truly love one another, to such a degree that it hurts being home? I ended up talking to my friends. They told me to keep clinging to the promise that God loves you. To keep loving yourself. To rely on the Body of Christ because that's what community is for.

1 comment:

  1. I love you, Siobhan.

    This is a really good blog: I felt like there was much I could relate to and that you captured ideas exceptionally well in an interesting manner. So props, girlfriend.

    Learning what love is is such an unfathomably difficult process: if anything, we find more hurt in this quest than comfort. I know exactly what you mean about wanting love and affection from your dad, I have the same issue to.

    You are always loved here, and by God with a passion that the human mind cannot conceive.

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