Thursday, September 15, 2011

Life, at Death, a Memory Without Pain


“Let every man in mankind’s frailty

Consider his last day; and let none

Presume on his good fortune until he find

Life, at his death, a memory without pain.” (1474-1477)

How do we find life at death? Or life a memory without pain? Can either be an element of redemption? Or are both, when put together, the core of redemption?

Oedipus Rex, the Greek tragedy (like most Greek tragedies) has the effect of catharsis or a sense of purification felt at the ending. Oedipus is damned from the start, with a fate thrust upon him that will eventually lead him to discovering he is his father’s murderer, blinding himself with his dead wife/mother’s brooches, then banishing himself from Thebes. Through this journey, the reader (if not heartless) should feel some sort of catharsis, or perhaps redemption because of the knowledge gained and the emotions felt throughout the course of the tragedy.

The lines quoted above are the last lines of the tragedy, spoken directly to the audience. I interpret it as a warning to not rely on good fortune, for it is fleeting. Because of good fortune’s instability, we must rather look towards finding life at death, a memory without pain.

So, the question is: How? Both finding life at death and remembering life as a memory without pain are extensively paradoxical, and therefore difficult to define the means of achieving either. Going back to my big question, I believe a core part lie in charity. If we do not lean on our “good fortune” and rather look outside ourselves, we can achieve life at death and remember life without pain, because death won’t be the end of us and the pain will be overrun with our pure love for others and life in general. Which leads me to another question: Does Oedipus find either? And if he does, is it through charity?

Thursday, September 1, 2011

The BIG Question...

"It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life that no person can
sincerely try to help another without helping themselves."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person." -Tennessee Williams

Milky eyes searching but not seeing, squinted in chronic pain. A lopsided mouth speaking muffled words, barely audible. A smile lights up her face and a whispering, yet undeniably joyful laugh floats across the room. Though physically mangled, her intellect and wisdom is far beyond mine. I am awed by the pure wit and understanding that is hidden behind this age-ridden face. My heart is full of genuine love for this woman, and a passion for charity has overtaken my mind and soul... a redemption of some sort, has washed me clean of any selfish thought.

Before meeting Mary Jane, I originally went to Sunrise Assisted Living Center to call out bingo for the ladies still mentally "there". These residents are a hoot, and therefore enjoyable to be with, so I was a little disappointed to find someone else already calling bingo when I arrived that Saturday morning.
"I can just come back another time," I told Glenda, a woman who worked there. Despite my attempt in rescheduling, Glenda was insistent in finding something for me to do.
"Would you feel comfortable reading to a resident?" She asked hopefully, probably recognizing my intentions of skipping out on volunteer work for that day. My heart sank. I didn't feel my skills in reading out loud were quite up to par. In fact, I didn't feel comfortable at all.
"Sure... I'll do whatever you need me to do," My voice betrayed the offer, but Glenda didn't seem to notice. I followed her into a dimly lit room, with an old woman hunched into an arm chair. I was slightly taken aback. Quite frankly, this woman looked scary. Her age was apparent in both sight and smell. There was a sign on the wall that stated "Please keep the blinds closed, the light hurts Mary Jane's eyes".
When the initial shock had passed, a wave of compassion and pity flooded into my heart. I was determined to make this lady happy, even if reading to her was more like reading to a wall than to a woman. First impressions are often way off the mark... and as I mentioned earlier, this woman left me in absolute admiration and I felt love, not pity, for her. I was temporarily renewed, redeemed, from my own mortal selfishness.

In the novel Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier, former Confederate soldier and current outlier, Inman embarks upon a journey that will test him in every way imaginable. He considers himself "empty" and stripped of any emotional capacity, I think he is wrong. Along his path, charity is both given and received. Inman is given places to stay, food to eat, which ultimately save him from perishing of fatigue and starvation. He offers in return protection and even the preservation of life for many with his extraordinary, innate fighting ability. All of these actions done out of charity. In Inman's return back to Ada, their love is renewed and intensified. Both helped themselves by helping each other. Charity and love are central to Inman's survival, and in the end, his redemption.

Charity is defined by Mormons (and Christians in general) as "the pure love of Christ". This intertwines "love" and "charity" in quite an inseparable manner. Continuing on the religious spectrum, Christ is the only person able to redeem us from our own demise as humans.
Therefore, to what extent does charity bring forth redemption?