gsutherland

Mirror of True Seeing

Each semester I think about this question again. . . have I answered the call or is it yet to come?  As we talk about heroes and how the Hero represents all that best defines a civilization or culture, I wonder how I follow that pattern.  Am I a mirror of my society?  Do I rather reflect the light of a path being forged anew?  Am I Hero, Sidekick, Mentor, or Guide, and how can I know in my own life and times?

I often count myself most fortunate:  to every day encounter terrific students while simultaneously teaching a subject I love.  The dialogue with the past is a lifelong discovery process, and as we look towards our own Imagined Future, this becomes an Adventuremental Journey because the exchange of ideas never ends.

I agree with fellow medievalist Jocelyn Wogan-Browne in her assertion that historians have a responsibility to recognize relevant topics in the dialogue between the past and present, and clearly acknowledge accomplishments in the past so they can be tied to new and ongoing thinking that falls into similar categories.  She maintains that this process is one of the duties of the scholar, and sees “community” as one of those terms often fraught with meaning, yet tied to different times in both particular and universal ways and needing to be addressed. I believe both the classroom and the campus are forms of community and I would suggest that the ability to define the direction of a movement is to experience or be at the heart of a liminal shift.

Liminality: the power of stepping across a threshold.  It is nothing new for a younger generation to step into the role of interstitial power, but WOW!  The ability to articulate the charting of a course, especially at a time when the nature and identity of society is in flux can be a powerful force.

The power of liminality, which might just operate as its own form of power can combine with an emerging  interstitiality, and maybe this existence will pull the direction of the dialogue –both local and global because IT IS NEEDED in these times and in the same crucial arenas we are studying towards new ways of thinking and doing.

Liminality holds its own kind of power.  Perched on the edge of the future, the liminal figure often determines the direction and the pace of the narrative of events.  As long as he or she is on the threshold, the direction is a matter of choice.  Once chosen, events flow in the direction of movement.  I am grateful and excited to be part of the journey.

 

I remember feeling startled when first encountering the idea of the Prophetic vs. the Priestly as two distinct Power constructs.  How to understand the roles, ideologies, and resultant practices that surround their presence tied to power in the public sphere seemed monumental, and even now remains an ongoing task.

Something I find interesting–fascinating even–is that the priestly function, whether its existence lies in religion, politics, or some combination thereof requires a public realm.  The prophetic, however, requires no public platform, no audience, no ceremony or ritual, and maybe no markers?  Is this about different levels of power? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about Samuel answering the call, and I want to think of this as a form of recognition. . . maybe?

Plato

Many of us encounter[ed] the notion of “the prophetic” with our first reading of Plato’s great Allegory of The Cave. In Plato’s Republic, Thrasymachus tells Socrates that might is the greatest form of power, but the Allegory also suggests something different.  I don’t know if we spend much time thinking about the prophet–or the prophetic–beyond the almost automatic axiom that “we always kill the prophets.”  In recent comments on my last post a question was raised about the prophetic voice present within each of us as individuals.  The same commentator wondered, after reading the Fundamentals of the Grid: Where on the grid is the prophetic located?  What a question!   Even as the prophet reaches out (down?) to the community in Plato’s (and others’) renditions, maybe it’s worthwhile to consider the role of each individual to accept the prophetic and/or that it must be discovered over and over again individually in order for community to exist.  This makes the Allegory much more complex.

Would a notion of placing the prophetic into the grid place the prophetic as an overarching umbrella (thus ideological power) or as an undergirding of the grid (territorial power or locus) . . . . . .or something else?  If each individual can draw upon or enter into the prophetic . . . what does that mean?  I think it might speak to Praxis and how that relates to power.

Martin Buber

Among other things, Martin Buber also writes about these ideas.  One of the first things noticed, reading the Buber’s words, is that the prophetic is dynamic; it’s moving.  It has something to do with time and history–specifically the history of religion, which Buber calls “the way of faith.”  Speaking of time in this way reminds me of current notions of Scale and Sustainability, and ways of living together as whole-soul’d human beings on Earth, and I want to find a way towards articulating these ideas.  Ideas of “Scale” pertain to measurement and speaking about various forms of placement, whether it’s by time, location, or frame of reference.  Perhaps Martin Buber and the prophetic can help find a way to form a bridge between different notions and also between us and other people.  He writes of the dialogic relationship between human beings and God, which makes me wonder about what Buber’s ideas can teach us not only about the nature of humanity but also about our responsibility to each other.

Our role might begin here with individual understanding(s).  I am in awe at the thought of the encounter.  How incredible is it, that in that moment when I as an individual am able to encounter another authentic human being who is in dialogical relationship with God, I, too, am present to the possibility of community, which possibly begins with each relationship formed in just this way.

I live in small town America, but go elsewhere to experience community, or rather, think of it differently to experience it.  I think a lot of people would say that same thing, whether they live in small town America or not.  Gerald Arbuckle writes about community, stating that it is synonymous with a local social system or group, “a set of social relationships that occur within a locality.”  He further defines it by “a quality of relationship.”  When people feel like they belong together, they might not be able to articulate it any other way except to say “we are a community.”  Community is both concrete and abstract.  It is linked to location through a territorial locus, but it simultaneously incorporates a sense of belonging. There is something important inherent in the notion of communitas having to do with an exchange that goes back to the Middle Ages and perhaps earlier, because it has to do with relationships, and maybe that’s why we like it.  We belong together.

Much is written/spoken at this time of year decrying rampant commercialism –and I’m not saying I disagree– but there is much to be said, I think, for the relational concept underlying the commercium or the REASON we buy/give gifts/want to give gifts/receive gifts, and also for the importance of gift giving.  Maybe, like so many things, it just all depends.  Maybe we want to belong to something more.  The idea of a commercial economy –which resembles our own in many ways –started in the Middle Ages.  Commercium incorporates a relational concept.  In common life it encompassed the economic exchange of goods and property, romantic and sexual contact; all forms of intercourse.  Exchange was the underlying precept.  In a figurative sense, community associations and relationships under that umbrella also fell into “the commercium.” We talk about the marketplace of ideas, and I certainly like that!

Commercium denoted (then) the relationship caused by the exchange of bonum, both between people and between people and gods, and that makes me wonder what it denotes/connotes now?  Maybe the reason people get all excited about the topic is simply a desire for focus (along with the locus).

The thought underlying the term began in antiquity, with the notion of do ut des, which emanated from the idea of supplication, or the manner of giving in a genuine relationship in order that the other may also give.  The implication was of mutual sharing and exchange.  Just as we experience now, I suppose, it was easy for these relationships to become skewed and for the giver to expect a return.  I’m suggesting that it’s not impossible to recognize the possibility of the pure form which rests in the voluntary act and in the very nature of possibility: do ut des.  Put simply, the layered meaning of commercium, lay in relationship.  Exchange and agreement were united.  I love the way Francis and Clare of Assisi thought of this (surprise!), so that the medieval notion of the Incarnation of Christ perfectly expressed the concept, offering the opportunity for each person who entered the relationship to participate in divine life.  Can I look to medieval examples to find a place in communitas in modern day?

Jocelyn Wogan-Brown writes that “‘Community’ is a bad word for medievalists, especially, to be careless with: for it too readily assimilates to the construction of the Middle Ages as the period of “an organic and static society chiefly important as the passive and narrativeless Other against which post-medieval history can be written.” She proposes that specificity in defining communities, especially those of women’s communities, is important and should be differentiated from society-at-large or passive groupings of people.  I would agree with her in the sense that we want to be very careful in the way that we use ANY word, and then continue to point to excellent examples in history.  My favorite woman in history, Clare of Assisi,

Clare of Assisi

Clare of Assisi

purposefully formed herself around this very notion, and gathered a community around her, creating something new.  She and other women and men like her charted a path partly based on specific communities formed before their time, and partly based on those they found lacking within their own milieu.  Don’t we all do that?  How else did they form their new community?  That other part came from the sense of community that formed the imagined ideal for which they yearned and then actively worked towards.  What do we call our fellow travelers and companions?  I love the word companion. . . .

Communitas seems to be a fluid concept and as we work towards an Imagined Future, the ideals we work towards often bring us into contact with others who are ALSO working towards similar ideals that add to the commercium.  How do we then inhabit and shape the ongoing community?  Fabienne Michelet writes that during times of conquest and expansion, the center and the periphery are inextricably bound and thus part of the same mental structure or what he terms the “mental map” because this is how borders are determined.  The periphery is filled with action and movement.  Because of this, the center is filled with meaning.  This is all quite dramatic, and because of this, part of the ongoing movement we talk about as we move.  Our identity is wrapped up in this, isn’t it?  How we imagine our selves and define that imaginated self qua self are conceived as borders, which seem so fixed.  Paul Zumthor, the great story theorist says we imagine concepts as boundaries.  It may seem that the power structure is fixed, but power is based in relation to periphery and decentering. I’m thinking that the songs de geste by their very nature tell us that different centers co-exist: political, religious, geographical, etc.  The more they coincide, the more layers of meaning are applied to the center that exists in the “mental map.”  Power and identity are inseparably linked to this map, but dependent on the conditions of the borders.  Dorothy Yamamoto agrees, writing: “The most powerful symbolic repertoires are located at borders, margins and edges, rather than at the accepted centre of the social body.” It seems like this is good news!

Martin Buber seemed to approach the idea of community in much the same way that Clare of Assisi practiced it at her monastery of San Damiano.  Buber argued that “an organic commonwealth will never build itself up out of individuals, but only out of small and even smaller communities; a nation is a community to the degree that it is a community of communities.”  Buber saw the issue it in terms of the need to allow a community to struggle into gradual formation.  This could be achieved by “great spiritual tact” through relationship and “with the constant and tireless weighing and measuring of the right proportion between them.” Buber believed that the concrete reality of communitas could be preserved even in society-at-large in a process he regarded as analogous to organic growth, or to what he called “the life of dialogue.”

YIKES!  This is getting complicated!  I thought all I was doing was sitting down to reflect on communitas. . .

We are about to embark on an Adventuremental Journey.  Our enterprise encompasses a search for Truth, Beauty, Justice and a Call . . . because this is a quest not only for Identity, but also Fraternity/Sorority and something more that we have yet to define completely. We are exploring the past with a view to how we can define/fashion/shape the Imagined Future with Ethics as a central feature. How do we then enter into a dialogue about Sustainability?

© 2012 An Adventuremental Journey Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha

Spam prevention powered by Akismet