Showing posts with label posted by Emma C. Show all posts
Showing posts with label posted by Emma C. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

“Narcissistic and Depressed” (or, one of the great many letters I wish I had the guts to send to my Religion professor.)

Dear Professor —— :

I have a lot of suggestions for how this course could be improved, in order to be more sensitive to the diversity among the members of the class, but right now I want to talk about when I first realized this class was not the right place for me. It happened roughly thirty minutes into the first class session, which was the amount of time before you began pontificating about how and why my generation are all ‘narcissistic and depressed’.

“I’ll tell you why we’re all depressed,” I thought immediately. “It’s because the world is dying and we can’t fix it because we’re all slaves under late-stage capitalism.”

Friday, October 4, 2019

Art and Religion: where the falling angel meets the rising ape

The 14th and 15th centuries may have been the birthplace of philosophical, scientific, and religious innovation and discovery, but when we think of the Renaissance, the first thing that comes to mind for most people will always be the art. And for good reason—of all the brave new worlds opened in the Renaissance, the world of art was at the forefront; was part and parcel of a heady new worldview. The art of the Renaissance encapsulates everything that the period was.

We can see this in the way art changed from the medieval era: the expression of humanism in a renewed appreciation for the beauty of the human form; the Renaissance emphasis on verisimilitude reflecting a broader shift in a society newly enamoured of observation, of critical thinking. Where medieval art was symbol, Renaissance art was a representation of reality as it was seen. A manifestation of a pattern, found throughout the Renaissance, of intellectual openness and honesty. A desire to look at the world, to think for oneself. The same curiosity, observation, criticism, would give birth not just to painting and sculpture, but to the Protestant Reformation.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Humanism and the Repair of the World

To a medieval man or woman, society was ordered, hierarchical: if you live in the Middle Ages, someone else is always in charge. One of the most fundamental ideas born during the Renaissance is humanism: a philosophy that hinges on the then-radical concepts of self-determination and free will. Where do the laws come from? Who takes care of problems? Humanism puts that responsibility on us as individuals rather than trusting to the established hierarchy.

To me, this rings the same bells that rang when I learned about the Jewish concept of tikkun olam, often translated as 'the repair of the world'. Tikkun olam is a way of describing a sense of social responsibility. The world is broken, in need of perfecting. But God is not snapping Their fingers and fixing it, because They want us to aid in repairing it. This is our duty, obligation, and privilege.


“The phrase 'Someone ought to do something' was not, by itself, a helpful one. People who used it never added the rider 'and that someone is me'.”

― Terry Pratchett, Hogfather


The concept of tikkun olam as well as Pratchett's works have deeply informed my own practice as a hearthcrafter: I believe that I am helping to perfect the world by perfecting my own home. I hold on tightly to what is mine, and do everything in my power to protect it and the people that depend on me. Pratchett might describe my approach to the sacred duty of hospitality as weaponized selfishness.

One of the ways I keep my home feeling safe and welcoming: a ruchnik, or embroidered ritual towel-- a gift from a dear friend.


Perhaps Niccolò Machiavelli would approve of this, or perhaps he would scoff at me as naive. Of course, he is only one side in the Renaissance debates about how this newly individual responsibility is to be accomplished.

Another side, one that resonates much more deeply for me, is the various artistic movements celebrating the beauty of the world and the beauty of humans, our place in the world as something inherently valuable. Because inherent value means it's worth putting effort into. The world, say Giotto and Petrarch and Botticelli, is worth fixing. And so why would we not do everything in our power to fix it?