17. Graham Greene; My Soundbites

(May 14, cont.)   What is it about G. Greene that I like?  I wonder if it is somehow connected to these ideas.  If you take the Catholic idea about the soul, that the soul is the true self, the individual, yet take away or cast doubt on the eternal life of that soul, wouldn't you have a person with no real ability to communicate, an isolation which can never really be satisfied?  If one comes to the conclusion that there is no happy afterlife, but merely now, with a soul that no one can really understand, one comes to not only a profound despair, but to a profound sense of detachment from the world, because all the reality, the big questions, are wrestled within the forum of one's own mind.

 The only real company one has in such a life's journey, in Green's case, is the knowledge that there are many, many like you who wonder the same things.  Many before as well.  Much is made in Greene as well of the rituals of belief, sacraments and the like.  On one level, they are a reminder of old times when they provided relief and hope. They become nostalgic rather than life giving, as they would be to the good/real Christian.

 Why is there the doubt in the first place?  The answer must be in the cataclysmic events of the 20th century: the disruption of the old moral order, the voice of The Waste Land, the throwing open of the entire world, the use of great ideas and inventions for wars, which brought with them more spectacular evils than could have been imagined before.  (It occurs to me that the openness of sin and pragmatism in Las Vegas is something of a metaphor for the 20th Century itself, where all is suddenly exposed to harsh light for everyone to see.)

 If someone like Greene can better explain this isolation and detachment because of its relationship with Christianity/God, can someone, who sees the soul as the true self and who sees the purpose and end of that self to be in God, can have a place writing?  To rephrase the question, can a good Catholic be a good writer?

 I think the answer must be, yes, because the believer suffers the same detachment and isolation as the non-believer: even believers have doubts in times of trial.  Then there are the questions in faith itself: How is it that God allows cruelty and senseless acts of violence to occur?  Certainly one can never know the mind of God, but why doesn't He do something?  (Perhaps, though, the same question can be asked of ourselves: how and why do we allow this?  Perhaps my little acts of cruelty and violence, satire, sarcasm, hatreds, etc. are a part of the bigger violence.)  Thus, not only does the believer have the same questions of doubt as the non-believer, but questions regarding the purpose and ability of faith to effect a better world.

 Is the non-believing side of the question simply more interesting, since there is more to sink one's teeth into in the world of flesh than the world of spirit?    No, for if we answer yes to the question of faith, then we must also figure out what to do with that faith.  What is it that I should be doing about it?

 Perhaps I should conclude by saying that the issue of faith and all of its permutations (its relationship with our need for individuality, its call to action, its existence) makes for interesting reading, and that I see no reason to doubt that a good Catholic can be a good writer.  Even the idea of sacraments being nostalgic can be incorporated into this writing as well, for not only do the sacraments remain nostalgic reminders of when faith was simple ("My Lord and my God!" at communion, reverently, but with a child's understanding; in confession listing members of easily identifiable sins vs. trying to understand sin in every day modern life social sins, etc.), but those same sacraments are an occasion for renewed relationship with Christ, and how, where and when can that come into our lives now and deepen our self identity?

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 My Soundbites.  Thought I would list the ten remarks made to me that most influenced my life.  I will list the ones I remember best today.  They may be different, at least some of them, tomorrow.

 1/2.  Thinking this morning of Father George to me, "Your time will come," when he made Cathy a eucharistic minister before me (#1).  I always thought it portended something, like my mother's "Johansings are late bloomers."(#2)  Perhaps it was George's standard throw away wisdom, but maybe he meant something.

 3.         "American ends in `I can.'"  Sister Soccorra in the 5th grade.  Never forgotten it; it follows the expression that we make time to do the things we want to do.

 4.         Fr. Van Dorn, 1968, "You did some great things for me, too bad you didn't try harder."  Like Mother Fridolin, who expected more, felt I had talent/potential, but what was it?  Was I really wasting my time?  Was I learning other things?  What was my talent?

 5.         "You get what you give."  Mer, 1968-69, and after.  Like many other pearls ("live for today"), so much help in life in so few words.

 6.         "You have nothing to fear but fear itself."  My mother, 1960 or so, quoting FDR to me as I sought comfort after terrifying thoughts of final judgment, nuclear world war and my own death.

 7.         "I've given you a taste."  (Also, "those far away places.")  My father.  Often repeated, from 1967 on, I suppose.  I continue to taste and go back.

 8.         "April is the cruellest month."  T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land. (c. 1970 in my life.)

 9.         "Unless you eat my body and drink my blood, you cannot have eternal life."  The Mass, c. 1960?

 10.       "Somewhere beyond the sea."  Bobby Darin.  1959-60.

 It is a beautiful, breezy afternoon here, sunny and warm.  Even Cathy said yesterday this reminds her of Southern California.  12:45 p.m. (PB & J sandwich in hand.)

 P.S.  11.  Just about anything the children say in wonder.  Thomas brought inside a big, green leaf today.  Proudly displaying to Cathy.  I love now how Thomas looks at the newspapers, other writings, scanning the page for T's (T for Thomas).  In the past week, we have progressed to S and H for Thomas as well!