In the last chapter of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace discover that they must journey back into the real world, that they must cross over from the “world’s end” of the Narnian world back into Aunt Alberta’s Cambridge home. Aslan claims that in them making this journey, they can never return to Narnia, that they are too old for Narnia and must experience their own world. However, Aslan puts forth the promise that they will seek him in their own world (the world outside of Narnia) and find him in a different form: “‘But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there’” (Lewis 270). Although Aslan’s form in the “real” world is left unclear, once can deduce that his form represents something that the children must learn to or already believe in. Whether Aslan is a representation of God or another religion or any kind of belief, he represents something important that ultimately requires in the believer the imaginative power.
The children can no longer access Narnia but they are not too old to learn how to believe in reality, or how to access in the real world sources of spirituality and individual power. It may seem as if the end of Narnia is the end of the use of their imagination but really it is another door to be opened, a further step into life’s journey and into the broadening of their imagination to include the ability to possess hope and belief. Aslan promises this sense of hope in promising always himself to them, as if he embodies their imaginative powers and their beliefs and will never cease to support them.
In terms of travel, the children make great progress in that they physically move from childhood to adulthood and mentally and emotionally move from disbelief to the possession of the power to create and hope. For Edmund and Lucy (and even Eustace), childhood may have seemed like the most fascinating adventure of their lives but Aslan’s promise proves that they will seek and find future journeys, journeys even more exciting in that they will exist within the walls of reality.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Importance of Imagination
In C.S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, he emphasizes the importance of imagination and the ability to believe in things that cannot be rationally proven to being human. He seems to suggest that without imagination, travel and adventure are not possible, and travel is essential to growing as person. Similar to the other readings, particularly Kolvenbach and Wendt, Lewis’s work points to external travel as a catalyst for an internal journey and this internal journey as an important part of being fully human, however, he adds on this new element of imagination as an important aspect of travel.
A great example of the necessity of imagination can be seen in the contrast between the characters of Eustace and Reepicheep. Although he is actually a mouse, Reepicheep’s character seems very human in his constant thirst for adventure and ability to dream of the possibilities of the world’s end. At one point all of the others want to go back to the safety of the ship but Reepicheep wants instead to stay behind. When Eustace asks him why he says, “‘Because this is a very great adventure, and no danger seems to me so great as that of knowing when I get back to Narnia that I left a mystery behind me through fear.’” Reepicheep is not afraid of where his imagination and adventures will lead him because he is concerned instead with discovering everything he possibly can in life. To me these characteristics make Reepicheep human in the sense that to be human is to be able to travel and constantly search for more both externally and internally.
Eustace, on the other hand, particularly in the beginning of the book, is closed off to the imaginary and adventuring, and for this reason seems almost inhuman despite literally being a human. When he first arrives aboard the Dawn Treader, all Eustace wants is to be dropped of at the nearest land. He keeps asking everyone he meets if there is a British Consul nearby because the only thing on his mind is going home. Eustace is so caught up in his one idea of reality, his contemporary life in England, the he refuses to acknowledge or seek anything more than this. By closing off his imagination and willingness to believe in anything else, Eustace cannot travel or grow as a person and in this respect he is not human. Ironically, it takes Eustace becoming an actual non-human, a dragon, to open his imagination to the possibility of other realities. Towards the end of the book, Eustace finally realizes why the Pevensies, Caspian, and Reepicheep believe in the possibility of other worlds besides their own and want so badly to explore these other realities. He recognizes that it is part of being human to want to constantly go further and explore new things, to travel, and this is the lesson Lewis is teaching us as well.
C.S.Lewis Blog
Emily B
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Blog: A Child's Prerogative
In C.S. Lewis' fantasy land of Narnia, without the overbearing reach of adults, the "children" are able to overcome the stereotyped behavior of their age and have experiences that many adults in the "real world" probably wouldn't be able to achieve. C.S. Lewis is using the art of imagination to explain the affects of faith. If one, such as Eustace, can't believe in a place like Narnia how are they to believe in God? Fantasy is necessary to life. I think the most concrete example of this is Lucy. Lucy is the youngest of the Pevensies siblings and yet she carries a tremendous amount of grace and maturity. Specifically, Lucy takes it upon herself to save the crew of the Dawn Treader on the island of invisible people. Edmond and Caspian object to her risking her own safety in order to save them but Lucy explains to them that they would do the same for her (the golden rule) and that she also must do it to save herself.
In Narnia, without the conventions of society to hold them back, the Pevensies children can travel both beyond what the map shows literally and beyond their own boundaries. They quest not only for adventures and knowledge of the land but also inner knowledge of themselves. They are able to express themselves, have freedom, and make decisions without consulting anyone else but each other.
No one is perfect; not even in Narnia, with perhaps the exception of Aslan. If a character should wobble on the precipice of caprice, Aslan reveals himself to guide them back onto the right path. When Eustace transforms into the Dragon that he has been behaving like, and recognizes that he needs to change his ways, it is Aslan who sheds his skin in a painful but fulfilling way. When Caspian and Edmond begin to quarrel over the golden river and their pride threatens to break their bond of friendship Aslan appears in the sky and the boys remember themselves and leave the place immediately. Lucy is tempted by the Book of Magic for eternal beauty even at the cost of war and the relationships she cherishes. Before she can begin reciting the incantation Aslan's growling, fierce face appears on the page and she forgets her vanity and is saved from the treachery of the Book. She is free to make her own decisions about what she reads/does with the spells after she sees Aslan's warning. Aslan is a symbol for God. He protects all from losing their innocence while allowing them to learn from their mistakes. I regard Aslan as the hand that guides both the external and internal travel of the Narnians. He shows those who believe in Him the path he would take and lets them chose whether or not they will follow it. Sometimes the path is a literal journey to the edges of the earth. Sometimes the path is within, to the edge of our own identities, where we discover who we really are.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
A Jesuit Mission
A historically important form of travel has always been missionary work. This is closely linked to the ideas of imperialism and colonization, as a number of those who first went to the New World of the Americas did so in order to convert the indigenous "heathen savages." Some of these missions were successful, but many were not. It's easy to think that we can just go somewhere foreign and help the local population, but even the Jesuits, whose ideas we like to promote here at Loyola, were sometimes unsuccessful in these endeavors.
The article, "The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice in American Jesuit Higher Education" by Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, modernizes thic concept of Jesuit missionary work. Kolvenbach emphasizes the role that Jesuit universities must play in the world community, by demonstrating a strong commitment to justice and service. Reading this article, you can see a definite shift from the way Jesuit missionaries during the Age of Exploration thought and acted to how goals should be accomplished today. Kolvenbach writes, "Faithful to the Vatican Council, the COngregation wanted our preaching and teaching not to proselytize, not to impose our religion on others, but rather propose Jesus and his message of God's Kingdom in a spirit of love to everyone" (26). In the missions in South America, or other culturally different places, it is my understanding that there was less "proposing" and more "imposing." Due to the small amount of information then known about these New World natives, missionaries assumed that by coming in and converting the population to Christianity, they were in fact saving their souls and improving their lives. Kolvenbach openly points out that the history of the Jesuits' promotion of justice has not always been smooth. He mentions, "In some ears the relatively mild expression, 'promotion of justice,' echoes revolutionary, subversive and even violent language" (27). He hopes that while the basic mission is remaining the same, the way others perceive it is becoming more favorable.
As we well know, the Jesuit universities strive to develop the "whole person," forming students into positive contributions to society. Kolvenbach points out that "tomorrow's 'whole person' cannot be whole without an educated awareness of society and culture with which to contribute socially, generously, in the real world. Tomorrow's whole person must have, in brief, a well-educated solidarity" (34). Contact with our world community is an important part of a Jesuit education no matter what you're actually majoring in. As Kolvenbach says, "Every discipline, beyond its necessary specialization, must engage with human society, human life, and the environment in appropriate ways, cultivating moral concern about how people ought to live together" (36).
When reading this article, however, in my opinion, Kolvenbach seems to come across a little strong at points, specifically when he describes the service opportunities at a typical Jesuit university. He explains, "Our universities also boast a splendid variety of in-service programs, outreach programs, insertion programs, off-campus contracts and hands-on courses. These should not be too optional or peripheral, but at the core of every Jesuit university's program of studies" (35). Not that helping others isn't important, but if these programs are forced upon students, won't many of those students end up feeling resentful and as though this service is simply an unwanted obligation, rather than an act of kindness and goodwill? In another section, Kolvenbach states, "the students need the poor in order to learn" (37). Well, yes, interaction with the real world through the many service options availlable will indeed make a student aware of what is happening out in the world and what he or she can do to help. My problem with this statement is that Kolvenbach seems to imply that the Jesuit mission relies on the existence of poor people in order to function properly.
Perhaps I'm simply reading too much cynicism into this article. Ultimately, the Jesuits are really just trying to help us travel outside our own spheres of comfort and witness how other people in the world live. When and where it is possible to help them, we have an obligation to do so, as fellow members of the human race. As Kolvenbach puts it, "How can a booming economy, the most prosperour and global ever, still leave over half of humanity in poverty?" The answer: we can't; it is our responsibility to go out there and help.
The article, "The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice in American Jesuit Higher Education" by Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, modernizes thic concept of Jesuit missionary work. Kolvenbach emphasizes the role that Jesuit universities must play in the world community, by demonstrating a strong commitment to justice and service. Reading this article, you can see a definite shift from the way Jesuit missionaries during the Age of Exploration thought and acted to how goals should be accomplished today. Kolvenbach writes, "Faithful to the Vatican Council, the COngregation wanted our preaching and teaching not to proselytize, not to impose our religion on others, but rather propose Jesus and his message of God's Kingdom in a spirit of love to everyone" (26). In the missions in South America, or other culturally different places, it is my understanding that there was less "proposing" and more "imposing." Due to the small amount of information then known about these New World natives, missionaries assumed that by coming in and converting the population to Christianity, they were in fact saving their souls and improving their lives. Kolvenbach openly points out that the history of the Jesuits' promotion of justice has not always been smooth. He mentions, "In some ears the relatively mild expression, 'promotion of justice,' echoes revolutionary, subversive and even violent language" (27). He hopes that while the basic mission is remaining the same, the way others perceive it is becoming more favorable.
As we well know, the Jesuit universities strive to develop the "whole person," forming students into positive contributions to society. Kolvenbach points out that "tomorrow's 'whole person' cannot be whole without an educated awareness of society and culture with which to contribute socially, generously, in the real world. Tomorrow's whole person must have, in brief, a well-educated solidarity" (34). Contact with our world community is an important part of a Jesuit education no matter what you're actually majoring in. As Kolvenbach says, "Every discipline, beyond its necessary specialization, must engage with human society, human life, and the environment in appropriate ways, cultivating moral concern about how people ought to live together" (36).
When reading this article, however, in my opinion, Kolvenbach seems to come across a little strong at points, specifically when he describes the service opportunities at a typical Jesuit university. He explains, "Our universities also boast a splendid variety of in-service programs, outreach programs, insertion programs, off-campus contracts and hands-on courses. These should not be too optional or peripheral, but at the core of every Jesuit university's program of studies" (35). Not that helping others isn't important, but if these programs are forced upon students, won't many of those students end up feeling resentful and as though this service is simply an unwanted obligation, rather than an act of kindness and goodwill? In another section, Kolvenbach states, "the students need the poor in order to learn" (37). Well, yes, interaction with the real world through the many service options availlable will indeed make a student aware of what is happening out in the world and what he or she can do to help. My problem with this statement is that Kolvenbach seems to imply that the Jesuit mission relies on the existence of poor people in order to function properly.
Perhaps I'm simply reading too much cynicism into this article. Ultimately, the Jesuits are really just trying to help us travel outside our own spheres of comfort and witness how other people in the world live. When and where it is possible to help them, we have an obligation to do so, as fellow members of the human race. As Kolvenbach puts it, "How can a booming economy, the most prosperour and global ever, still leave over half of humanity in poverty?" The answer: we can't; it is our responsibility to go out there and help.
Justice-Based Identities?
In advocating for the Jesuit community to “go beyond a disincarnate spiritualism or a secular social activism,” Peter-Hans Kolvenbach presents a possibility that a religious person can exert a concrete positive force in society without abandoning the ceremonial and contemplative components of his faith (30). This stands in contrast to the presentation of religion in Tales of the Tikongs as an ingrained cultural custom which allows the citizens of Tikong to satisfy an inherent desire for the divine -- as Rosie mentioned in our class discussion -- without having to make and act on philosophical observations in the world around them, while the few who are compelled to challenge unjust conventions are those largely unaffiliated with religion.
Kolvenbach insists that a median position can exist between these two extremes -- a concept which reminded me of a recent article by Keith Fournier which calls for a "true humanism" that seeks a "just and human society" based in, and not separated from, the "objective truths" of Christianity (Fournier). Kolvenbach acknowledges how easily one’s religious beliefs can be partitioned from routine decision-making. His mention of a “Jesuit…medical school….producing…some of the most corrupt citizens in [Beirut]” seems analogous to Hau’ofa’s stories of a regular churchgoers like Sione who, though they listen all day Sunday to the preaching of Christian dogma, are corrupt businessmen throughout the rest of the week(23 – 4). I found Kolvenbach's call for reformation of such stunted religious viewpoints through a refocusing of Jesuit education a refreshing change from Hau’ofa’s less nuanced approach of presenting religion and social improvement as mutually exclusive.
Nevertheless, in reading Kolvenbach's description of an excellent professor at a Jesuit university being one who in his or her "research...[collaborates] with those in the Church and in society...who actively seek justice," I had reservations that this standard would leave some professors conflicted between a desire to remain as objective as possible in their studies and one compelling them to "[adopt] the point of view of those who suffer injustice" (37). For a scientist, journalist or sociologist, can the expression of "such an explicit option" be completely reconciled with a duty to "seek the truth" in an unbiased way (37)? In trying to work out this quandary for myself, I am reminded of Alasdair MacIntyre's position that facts cannot ever be divorced from morality, an idea extremely similar to Kolvenbach's statement that "no point of view is ever...value free" (37). In addition, as many have pointed out in relation to both journalism and the sciences, one's preferences influence the practice of one's discipline regardless of how one might try to remove his or herself from them. Those whose research is not influenced by an "option" for the poor will be influenced by other, perhaps less altruistic, biases (37).
Even in acknowledging this, however, I wonder if any kind of research can reflect reality accurately if the researcher is keeping even the most compassionate of biases in mind while conducting the research. I think that a researcher can be a compassionate citizen, just as I agree with Kolvenbach that being religious should not prevent one from being a compassionate citizen. However, my current, albeit tentative, belief is that a researcher must look to his or her duties as a citizen only after his or her research has been completed, at which point he or she can look back on objective data and draw moral conclusions from it.
Bibliography
Fournier, Keith. "Catholics Need Not Apply. Firing Professor Howell. Rise of Anti-Catholicism." Catholic Online. 19/07/2010. Web. 30/09/2010.
Hau'ofa, Epeli. Tales of the Tikongs. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1994. Print.
Kolvenbach, Peter-Hans. "The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice in American Jesuit Higher Education." Baltimore: Apprentice House, 2007. Print.
MacIntyre, Alasdair. After Virtue: Third Edition. United States: University of Notre Dame Press, 2008. Print.
Kolvenbach insists that a median position can exist between these two extremes -- a concept which reminded me of a recent article by Keith Fournier which calls for a "true humanism" that seeks a "just and human society" based in, and not separated from, the "objective truths" of Christianity (Fournier). Kolvenbach acknowledges how easily one’s religious beliefs can be partitioned from routine decision-making. His mention of a “Jesuit…medical school….producing…some of the most corrupt citizens in [Beirut]” seems analogous to Hau’ofa’s stories of a regular churchgoers like Sione who, though they listen all day Sunday to the preaching of Christian dogma, are corrupt businessmen throughout the rest of the week(23 – 4). I found Kolvenbach's call for reformation of such stunted religious viewpoints through a refocusing of Jesuit education a refreshing change from Hau’ofa’s less nuanced approach of presenting religion and social improvement as mutually exclusive.
Nevertheless, in reading Kolvenbach's description of an excellent professor at a Jesuit university being one who in his or her "research...[collaborates] with those in the Church and in society...who actively seek justice," I had reservations that this standard would leave some professors conflicted between a desire to remain as objective as possible in their studies and one compelling them to "[adopt] the point of view of those who suffer injustice" (37). For a scientist, journalist or sociologist, can the expression of "such an explicit option" be completely reconciled with a duty to "seek the truth" in an unbiased way (37)? In trying to work out this quandary for myself, I am reminded of Alasdair MacIntyre's position that facts cannot ever be divorced from morality, an idea extremely similar to Kolvenbach's statement that "no point of view is ever...value free" (37). In addition, as many have pointed out in relation to both journalism and the sciences, one's preferences influence the practice of one's discipline regardless of how one might try to remove his or herself from them. Those whose research is not influenced by an "option" for the poor will be influenced by other, perhaps less altruistic, biases (37).
Even in acknowledging this, however, I wonder if any kind of research can reflect reality accurately if the researcher is keeping even the most compassionate of biases in mind while conducting the research. I think that a researcher can be a compassionate citizen, just as I agree with Kolvenbach that being religious should not prevent one from being a compassionate citizen. However, my current, albeit tentative, belief is that a researcher must look to his or her duties as a citizen only after his or her research has been completed, at which point he or she can look back on objective data and draw moral conclusions from it.
Bibliography
Fournier, Keith. "Catholics Need Not Apply. Firing Professor Howell. Rise of Anti-Catholicism." Catholic Online. 19/07/2010. Web. 30/09/2010.
Hau'ofa, Epeli. Tales of the Tikongs. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1994. Print.
Kolvenbach, Peter-Hans. "The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice in American Jesuit Higher Education." Baltimore: Apprentice House, 2007. Print.
MacIntyre, Alasdair. After Virtue: Third Edition. United States: University of Notre Dame Press, 2008. Print.
Service and Spirituality
I’m going to discuss an abstract sort of travel in relation to Fr. Kolvenbach’s address an internal experience: a travel through a year of working at a particular position. In 2009-2010, I held the position of Student Program Assistant (SPA) for Spirituality and Service at the Center for Community Service and Justice (CCSJ). My job was to encourage the fulltime staff, the student staff, and the volunteers to consider the relationship between their spritualities and their concrete service experiences. This manifested itself in reflection emails, meetings, events, and speakers. As you can see, Fr. Kolvenbach’s “service of faith and the promotion of justice” basically described my mission and paid position at CCSJ.
This job seemed perfect. I wanted service to be the core of my being, to infiltrate my attitudes and treatment towards others. This desire for service was founded and dependent upon my faith. I felt, and still feel, that service is the best way to live the Gospel. I saw both community service and my position at CCSJ as a way to “propose Jesus and his message of God’s Kingdom in a spirit of love to everyone (26).” Of course I wanted to do what I could to help others see this deep and interconnected relation between spirituality and service, faith and justice.
Yet though coming into this job seemed extraordinarily fitting for me, it proved to be a tremendous challenge. I wasn’t there solely because I tried to live this connection between faith and service, but rather because CCSJ trusted me to gently guide others to consider their own spiritual connections with their service. It was with this position that I had to learn to relate and discuss with others about their diverse beleifs and spiritualities, and relate those to service. Understandably, CCSJ maintained an extremely sensitive approach to all those who possibly wanted to engage in service but did not subscribe to the Christian/Catholic faith. For this reason, CCSJ is not the same office as Campus Ministry, and my position was specifically not named “SPA for Faith and Service,” because “faith” implied that I would only be encouraging a Christian/Catholic approach. I understood this, and of course I didn’t want to make others feel uncomfortable or unwelcome in doing service. Though I understood the concept of sensitivity to other people’s spiritualities, I struggled to find a way to still be true to my own beliefs without offending anyone. At the core of the reason I did service was the diakonia fidei – “Christ the suffering Servant carrying out his “diakonia” in total service of his Father by laying down his life for the salvation of all,” (26). How could I emulate and embody this truth but not express it through words? At that point in my life, I struggled to find the balance between being honest about this core part of myself and my service while still staying relatable for others who did not subscribe to this. I became timid, and this heightened sensitivity in turn worked the opposite effect: I felt uncomfortable and felt I could not speak about these beliefs. Of course, I knew that severing or ignoring my Christian faith’s inherent relation to service was not the mission of our Jesuit school, either.
I think Fr. Kolvenbach articulates this delicate balance between living the faith and making it accessible for others. As he said, the purpose of the Congregation was not to “proselytize, not to impose our religion on others (26) but to be careful not to separate the promotion of justice from the “wellspring of faith” (28). Reading this article, I found that my struggles were not uncommon, that many people emphasized “one aspect of this mission to the detriment of the other, treating faith and justice as alternative or even rival tracks of ministry,” (28). Kolvenbach describes the danger in either approach: for it is inadequate to leave the faith dimension implicit while it is also inadequate to focus entirely on the next life without a desire to promote equity and justice on earth. Kolvenbach challenges the Jesuits (and me) “to go beyond a disincarnate spiritualism or secular social activism,” (30) so as to live out faith and justice in a world of unbelief and unjustice.
Ultimately, I found that living out my faith did not necessarily mean speaking about it, and also that being accessible and open did not necessarily mean holding back my beliefs. If I was committed to living out the truth of the Gospel in service to my fellow man, my beliefs and honesty would speak for themselves. Though I cannot say that I have completely grasped this perfectly just yet, I try to stick to St. Ignatius’ advice of “actions over words,” because if I do believe the Gospel is truth, it will speak for itself.
Going to a public high school, none of my friends ever did anything involving service. Other than going to church or synagogue, we never really had an experience like that. I know for Conformation, many different sects of Christianity required a service project of some kind. What I remember most is all of us complaining about going.
I was luckier than my friends who were Lutheran and Methodist; I got to go to a soup kitchen for or requirement, with 6 friends I had known since 2nd grade.We all go to complain about it together. For six fifteen year olds, waking up at 6:30 AM to go to the city of Newark, NJ (did I mention it was freezing) was not on the list of any of our favorite activities. There was cheesy music on, and no heat in the SUV we were in. All I remember thinking at that point in time was, " Thank God I brought my CD player." This luxury item to many people in Newark, was the only distraction that we had, and kept taking turns with the entire trip. We entered the area that most upper-middle c;ass kids would refer to as the ghetto, at 10:30 AM. The church was plain looking, and the sisters who ran the soup kitchen had a guard dog. OK, I'll admit I thought that was kind of cool. By now my CD player was in my backpack, and I was thinking if we got jumped that'd be the first thing the person would grab.
We were all told to make a mixed salad out to of lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes. The only thing I remember my friend Deanna saying was, "Well at least you can see what vet school will be like." I replied that neutering a male dog, and chopping tomatoes were two very different things. We were told to put the salads on these long tables outside, and there were other food items as well;we each took a different station. Of course, we were all separated, which drove me crazy. In another blog for this week, someone talks about stepping out of their comfort zone, I definitely know how they feel.
On page 26 Kolvenbach talks about Christ suffering on the Cross, as being a Servant to his Father. Servant is the only word I can use to describe what we did, and how we were treated. The people were rude, and hostile. The children were the only ones in the room I could feel for. As Michael Jackson said, "I see God in the face of children." I now know what he meant. I felt a true sense of compassion for the people coming in.
St Ignatius talks about deeds being the Core of providing Love and not words. I see that now, in doing what I did. Did I have an eye opener? Of course. I had plenty of extras in my life that I didn't need. These people had a monthly check and lived in a dangerous area.
There was no talk on the way back. I had a horse show in Princeton so my head went to Mars in the van with no heat. Later in the month were all met at church as a group to draw, write about, and discuss our art work. We all said the same thing, how it truly was a DIFFERENT experience. I find it interesting that I am, involved in a Hunger and Homeless group on campus. I was spoiled and self involved back then. Now I have a more mature prospective on things. I want to do it because its an issue that isn't spoken about enough. Ironic? It possibly is, depending on which way you look at it. Maybe if i didn't have a prompt like this for thing week's blog, maybe i wouldn't have seen the irony.
I was luckier than my friends who were Lutheran and Methodist; I got to go to a soup kitchen for or requirement, with 6 friends I had known since 2nd grade.We all go to complain about it together. For six fifteen year olds, waking up at 6:30 AM to go to the city of Newark, NJ (did I mention it was freezing) was not on the list of any of our favorite activities. There was cheesy music on, and no heat in the SUV we were in. All I remember thinking at that point in time was, " Thank God I brought my CD player." This luxury item to many people in Newark, was the only distraction that we had, and kept taking turns with the entire trip. We entered the area that most upper-middle c;ass kids would refer to as the ghetto, at 10:30 AM. The church was plain looking, and the sisters who ran the soup kitchen had a guard dog. OK, I'll admit I thought that was kind of cool. By now my CD player was in my backpack, and I was thinking if we got jumped that'd be the first thing the person would grab.
We were all told to make a mixed salad out to of lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes. The only thing I remember my friend Deanna saying was, "Well at least you can see what vet school will be like." I replied that neutering a male dog, and chopping tomatoes were two very different things. We were told to put the salads on these long tables outside, and there were other food items as well;we each took a different station. Of course, we were all separated, which drove me crazy. In another blog for this week, someone talks about stepping out of their comfort zone, I definitely know how they feel.
On page 26 Kolvenbach talks about Christ suffering on the Cross, as being a Servant to his Father. Servant is the only word I can use to describe what we did, and how we were treated. The people were rude, and hostile. The children were the only ones in the room I could feel for. As Michael Jackson said, "I see God in the face of children." I now know what he meant. I felt a true sense of compassion for the people coming in.
St Ignatius talks about deeds being the Core of providing Love and not words. I see that now, in doing what I did. Did I have an eye opener? Of course. I had plenty of extras in my life that I didn't need. These people had a monthly check and lived in a dangerous area.
There was no talk on the way back. I had a horse show in Princeton so my head went to Mars in the van with no heat. Later in the month were all met at church as a group to draw, write about, and discuss our art work. We all said the same thing, how it truly was a DIFFERENT experience. I find it interesting that I am, involved in a Hunger and Homeless group on campus. I was spoiled and self involved back then. Now I have a more mature prospective on things. I want to do it because its an issue that isn't spoken about enough. Ironic? It possibly is, depending on which way you look at it. Maybe if i didn't have a prompt like this for thing week's blog, maybe i wouldn't have seen the irony.
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