MIDTERM ESSAYS A

 

#1

 

Two of the most enlightening works that we have read this semester are Epictetus? The Art of Living and Thomas Merton?s Wisdom of the Desert. The Greek system of Stoicism and the monastic asceticism presented by Merton both transform the modern notion of the self by presenting a rather ?self-less? attitude as the epitome of self-hood. This new attitude, a transformed sense of justice, and embracing that which destroys the egotistical self are all common appeals made by these two influential sources of wisdom.

It is natural, even evolutionarily advantageous, for man to focus on his own well-being. However, Merton and Epictetus present directives that advise us in the opposing direction of our common sense. Over and over again, the Desert Fathers tell us to reject the notion of self-concern. Indeed, monastic men living in communities possess an attitude focusing on the good of the community, and solitary anchorites undergo a training, or askesis, that defines the man outside of the limitations of the self. Merton says in the introduction, ?To be a prisoner of one?s own selfhood is, in fact, to be in hell.? Epictetus offers a stoic refinement of one?s attitude by consistently advising his reader to look beyond the temporal joy of immediate pleasure and to centralize one?s attitude on the greater will of nature. This is apparent in his advice to avoid casual sex, a common urge of human beings. By refusing an immediate gratification, one can remove its barriers from his pathway to a greater knowledge and truth.

Along with a new attitude, both the ascetic and Stoic schools of thought propose entirely new transformed senses of justice. This new sense of justice is vividly apparent in Merton?s account of the sayings of the Desert Fathers. There is the story of the monks who capture a criminal only to reflect upon their action and let set him free. There is also the account of the elder who realizes his Bible was stolen, but given the chance to reclaim it, allows the thief to keep it. These two stories seem contrary to the natural sense of justice. We discussed in class how these also seem to allow evil to occur. However, ?allowance? is not the point of the accounts. There is one piece of advice in Wisdom that explains this transformed sense of justice: Do not act in revenge and instead leave justice in the hands of God, the ultimate Judge. By passing judgment while solely depending on our own human sense of justice, we make ourselves into laughably insufficient parodies of God, which is the very essence of sin. The Desert Fathers urge us to instead put justice into the hands of the Divine and submit ourselves to His Truth. Epictetus offers strikingly similar advice. Stoic thought revolves around ones attitude towards things that happen, for if we are to be at peace, we should only worry about matters within our control. In line with the stories of justice presented much later in history by Merton, the great Stoic writes: ?Inner peace begins when we stop saying of things, ?I have lost it? and instead say, ?It has been returned to where it came from.?? Justice is not for us to decide, it is a matter in God?s hands.

The last major theme regarding a transformed selfhood in these two works is an embrace of that which subdues the ego. Again and again Epictetus calls his readers to embrace their limitations. If we concern ourselves with matter beyond our own control, the only result that we can obtain is frustration and torment. Therefore, he concludes, embracing that which limits you is the only pathway to inner peace. Merton?s Desert Fathers agree. The Fathers reject the earthly, temporal, material self in order that they may come to a greater understanding of the spiritual self. One Father advises a monk to sit in his cell and it will teach him all he needs to know. By casting all worldly aspects of one?s life aside, the truest self in line with the ultimate nature that is God can be best known.

 

#2

 

The concept of selfhood is an interesting thing to consider; while it is probably impossible to create a framework for understanding it which gives a lasting and comprehensive explanation of ?the self? it is possible to create useful interpretations which make us think of the idea of ?selfhood? in a new way. Two of our subjects did that for me. While neither of them have all the answers, so to speak, their ideas and the ways in which they lived their lives demonstrate innovative understandings of selfhood. These two subjects are St. Francis of Assisi (as discussed in the Life of St. Francis of Assisi) and Zosima (as discussed in The Brothers Karamazov).

St. Francis of Assisi developed a concept of selfhood within the context of the Christian faith but which expands our notion of self, paradoxically, by having us give it up. St. Francis? approach was an ingenious one in that he, after a relatively normal and thus troubled youth, decided to cast away everything that was not bringing him happiness while increasing his focus on the eternal. His whole life was a synthesis of ideas that yielded startlingly useful new concepts. First, St. Francis was the bridge between the medieval ascetic approach and the coming age of increasing involvement in the world. Although he left his possessions and renounced the material goods which were only bringing him misery, he did not at all seek to leave the world. A great example of his involvement with the world, yet avoiding being a typical part of it at the same time, is that he tried to found a ?third order? in the Franciscan tradition that incorporated typical lay persons in to the movement he started. Secondarily, and more importantly in my mind, St. Francis? life was a synthesis of the ideas of Christianity and the tradition of the Troubadours. By the time St. Francis was born, the Church and Christianity in general were old. St. Francis took a new and popular tradition of romantic poetry and synthesized it with Christianity to infuse the Christian tradition with a new and exciting vitality. He showed that the love which is so important to following Christ is not in any way an archaic type of love; he used the portrayal of love by the Troubadours to show a new generation of Christians that the message of Christ applied to them. Getting back to the innovation in the notion of self, St. Francis? contribution to our way of thinking about such things was to emphasize that it is ?in giving we receive, in pardoning that we are pardoned, and in dying that we are born to eternal life.? He demonstrated with his life that the self is best benefited when it is not concerned with itself at all. While this is completely against common sense, it is completely congruent with Christianity, but St. Francis allows us to understand why the idea of losing oneself to find it really makes sense in more than just an esoteric sort of theological way.

The second subject who has had a profound influence on my way of thinking about the self is Zosima in The Brothers Karamazov. His innovation is also within the context of the Christian tradition, but is unique in that he claims that the self is not just self accountable; the self is responsible for the rest of mankind, and the rest of mankind is accountable for it. No person exists in isolation in Zosima?s mind. While this idea seems like a theological stretch, the function of the plot of the book is to demonstrate that his ideas are not so far fetched after all since assigning blame for Fyodor?s murder is no easy task. Zosima also demonstrates an insightful synthesis of the same ideas as St. Francis, in a sense: he resolves the conflict between living apart from the world and being involved in it in a similar way. While he lives in the monastery, he has frequent involvement with the people of the nearby town that come to visit him. He contrasts Fr. Ferapont who focuses far more on being apart from society than having any involvement in it. In a sense, Zosima?s ideas are very intuitive. It is difficult to ever assign blame to any one individual because any situation has many contributing factors that it is contingent upon. With that being the case, how can any sin not be the fault of all people? There are several new issues, at least for me, which Zosima?s ideas raise. I have never had much experience with any Christian tradition outside of the Catholic Church, thus, the Russian tendency to downplay the importance of the intellect is fascinating, and also makes sense conceptually. At least in terms of religion, the intellect cannot be important, and if anything, it is a burden, as Ivan is a shining example of. Overall, Zosima?s idea of the interconnectedness of men is an innovation in thinking of the self because it broadens the responsibilities of the individual and gives mankind hope for working together to achieve great things in a loving, supportive community.

Altogether, while neither St. Francis nor Zosima?s views of the self offer any answers to some of the profound questions that people inevitably ask themselves regarding their own nature, they are thought provoking and practical. Asking for total understanding is perhaps too much, and useless anyway because it seems unlikely we will get it. However, the insights given by St. Francis and Zosima help us understand that we have responsibility for our fellow human beings and that it is far more fulfilling to work to help those fellow human beings than to vainly pursue self interest.

 

#3

 

One of the recurring themes in The Brothers Karamazov is the concept of community with the human race. We are all part of a whole, with each individual intimately connected with the whole of humanity. This concept underlies Zosima?s theology that we are all responsible for each others? sins. We must help each other not to sin, creating a paradise on earth.

In his dying words, Zosima comes upon a very interesting metaphor for his belief that sounds strikingly similar to Taoism, or even pagan stoicism: ??everything is like the ocean, all things flow and are indirectly linked together, and if you push here, something will move at the other end of the world.? The self, as Dostoevsky sees it, is not an island, totally unaffected by outside forces. Even the most insignificant actions we perform affect all of humanity in some way, and, eventually, that effect comes back to us. Once one realizes that his own happiness is dependent upon all of humanity and the happiness of all of humanity is dependent upon him, he will, Zosima contends, have such extreme love that he will seem absurd. Asking for forgiveness and prayers from birds and children, he will become fully incorporated into the world.

Another very intriguing reading in this story is Grushenka?s little fable about the woman and her onion. Refusing to carry anyone else from the torment of hell, the hateful old woman falls back into the fires. With this frightening tale, Dostoevsky illustrates that we can only save ourselves if we agree to save others along the way. Again, one person bears the responsibility for humanity as a whole. Even a solitary ascetic cannot entirely be isolated; he is still acutely aware of his duties toward others.

In his great theodicy, Dostoevsky makes two very different characters the examples of how not to live: Fyodor Karamazov, and his son, Ivan. Even with very different personalities, the two still choose to cut themselves completely away from God and humanity. Of course, they do not flee to the desert to abandon other people, but rather they philosophically isolate themselves while physically living in a community. Fyodor and Ivan choose to be only responsible for themselves. Fyodor drowns himself in alcohol and women, and makes no attempt whatsoever to give a legitimate concern about any of his fellow men. Ivan, through his humanistic philosophy, considers himself entirely self-sufficient. He needs no god or person to help him, and sees no reason for him to help others. Curiously, it seems that at the end of the novel that Ivan suffers a crueler fate than his father. His father is merely murdered; Ivan, torn apart by his own callous and godless logic, goes insane.