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Donne and Gated Communities
16/6/05 18:12I've been reading Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions by John Donne today. Partly because I thought I ought to read some Donne that wasn't poetry, after standing near his grave in England and very carefully not-crying a few months ago. (I love his poetry. It's clever and beauties in its own language and conceit. But his poetry wasn't the only writing he left us, and it wasn't how he wanted to be viewed, in later years. So.) And partly because one of my new roommates had it on the shelf and I am going through a non-fiction/poetry reading phase. So I finished the Szymborska poetry anthology last evening, after laundry, and today started in on Donne.
The Devotions were composed as he was very ill, and wondered if he was dying. They were written up almost immediately afterward, as he gradually recovered and it became clear that he wasn't going to die--at least not immediately.
I'd forgot how passionate Donne was. Each sentence of the thing is simple, and has behind it this force which just carries it through. When he slips into poetry, it's beautiful, but with the same kind of force, the same kind of point. You feel as if he is quoting his own work to you, sitting across the table and leaning towards you, tapping his finger against the wood each time he makes a particularly important point and always looking you in the eyes. Are you listening?
One thing I'm seeing is how deeply Donne believes in the power of God to unite, to heal. Physically, yes, but also emotionally, mentally, spiritually. And says Donne, how does God do this? Not by relying on some purity or goodness inherent in the human being or condition, because there's little enough of that in even the best of us. By God, by change. By invitation into the unlikliest people.
That's why I'm so mad that Domino's Pizza founder Tom Monaghan wants to build what is essentially going to be a gated Catholic community--a kind of religious version of Celebration--in the suburbs of Florida. The article I read the other day was, granted, a bit rhetoric-heavy. It's to be noted that the sentence that got me wasn't a quote, it was the reporter's text. But I don't think it was out of line with the overall tone Monaghan struck in the places where he was quoted. Here is what got me so mad:
"What's more, the ascension of Pope Benedict XVI has many conservative Catholics hopefully anticipating a smaller, purer, more obedient Church."
May I just say, NO.
I would argue that in today's climate, the two strains of Christianity most visible and outspoken--and therefore the ones most likely to represent Chrsitianity and Christian thought to the world, for better or worse--are the 'born-again' Christians (of whatever denomination) and the Roman Catholics. (I must say here that I don't agree with the ways the born-agains choose to evangalize. And I don't agree with the way Roman Catholics have this papal infallability thing. I used to hate them for their exclusionary Communion practices, but I since had some of that explained to me by one of the wonderful people that occasionally show up in my life for a few years, help my spiritual growth, and then go away again, so I'm less miffed by that than I used to be.)
But when Jesus showed up on this ball of rock and said, "My God, what have I got myself into?" he didn't want to make the church smaller. Or 'purer' (whatever the heck that means, I'm sure that any church with prostitutes in it in any time period isn't it by any time period's standard definition of the word). Or 'more obedient.' More obedient to God, maybe, but giving obedience to God is generally not a way to make one's life become safer, more fun, more understandable, or more complacent.
Instead, you suddenely realize this: "There are forces at work. Time is short. There is so much to be done. I must begin work now. Now!"
Smaller, purer, more obedient? Give me seething masses swearing at the sky from the gutter or the deathbed. People who don't live behind a fence because their God didn't, and doesn't.
Do you hear me? Give me the seething masses swearing at the sky!
The Devotions were composed as he was very ill, and wondered if he was dying. They were written up almost immediately afterward, as he gradually recovered and it became clear that he wasn't going to die--at least not immediately.
I'd forgot how passionate Donne was. Each sentence of the thing is simple, and has behind it this force which just carries it through. When he slips into poetry, it's beautiful, but with the same kind of force, the same kind of point. You feel as if he is quoting his own work to you, sitting across the table and leaning towards you, tapping his finger against the wood each time he makes a particularly important point and always looking you in the eyes. Are you listening?
One thing I'm seeing is how deeply Donne believes in the power of God to unite, to heal. Physically, yes, but also emotionally, mentally, spiritually. And says Donne, how does God do this? Not by relying on some purity or goodness inherent in the human being or condition, because there's little enough of that in even the best of us. By God, by change. By invitation into the unlikliest people.
That's why I'm so mad that Domino's Pizza founder Tom Monaghan wants to build what is essentially going to be a gated Catholic community--a kind of religious version of Celebration--in the suburbs of Florida. The article I read the other day was, granted, a bit rhetoric-heavy. It's to be noted that the sentence that got me wasn't a quote, it was the reporter's text. But I don't think it was out of line with the overall tone Monaghan struck in the places where he was quoted. Here is what got me so mad:
"What's more, the ascension of Pope Benedict XVI has many conservative Catholics hopefully anticipating a smaller, purer, more obedient Church."
May I just say, NO.
I would argue that in today's climate, the two strains of Christianity most visible and outspoken--and therefore the ones most likely to represent Chrsitianity and Christian thought to the world, for better or worse--are the 'born-again' Christians (of whatever denomination) and the Roman Catholics. (I must say here that I don't agree with the ways the born-agains choose to evangalize. And I don't agree with the way Roman Catholics have this papal infallability thing. I used to hate them for their exclusionary Communion practices, but I since had some of that explained to me by one of the wonderful people that occasionally show up in my life for a few years, help my spiritual growth, and then go away again, so I'm less miffed by that than I used to be.)
But when Jesus showed up on this ball of rock and said, "My God, what have I got myself into?" he didn't want to make the church smaller. Or 'purer' (whatever the heck that means, I'm sure that any church with prostitutes in it in any time period isn't it by any time period's standard definition of the word). Or 'more obedient.' More obedient to God, maybe, but giving obedience to God is generally not a way to make one's life become safer, more fun, more understandable, or more complacent.
Instead, you suddenely realize this: "There are forces at work. Time is short. There is so much to be done. I must begin work now. Now!"
Smaller, purer, more obedient? Give me seething masses swearing at the sky from the gutter or the deathbed. People who don't live behind a fence because their God didn't, and doesn't.
Do you hear me? Give me the seething masses swearing at the sky!