Sunday, 28 September 2014

Watch Yourself

That is advice that you should never give to a narcissist.  Chances are he already is watching himself.  But this post isn't specifically about narcissists, but more in reference to something I heard this morning on the radio.  I was stranded a bit later than usual this morning because I was doing my laundry, as I usually do on Sunday mornings (afternoons if I've slept too late) and the machine malfunctioned.  Long story short I had to put my wet clothes through an extra dry cycle making me substantially late for church this morning.

Spending extra time at home this morning also came with benefits.  I had time to work on a painting.  I also listened to more of "The Sunday Edition" than I otherwise would have.  This is a very interesting and erudite current affairs program broadcast Sunday mornings on CBC Radio One from nine to eleven.  So, I got to hear about the big retrospective exhibit at the National Gallery in Ottawa of the paintings of Christopher Pratt an iconic Canadian artist who recently died. 

This post isn't specifically about Christopher Pratt and if you'd like to know what his art was like all you have to do is ask Uncle Google.  I was more concerned by something he was alleged to have said and only wished I could somehow respond to it, but really it was one of those things that one needs time to digest before regurgitating.

This is his claim, according to the narrator: that humans are inherently evil and dogs are inherently good.  Uh-huh.  Now, I don't have anything against dogs.  I am not huge on dogs, and I am not what you would call a dog-person.  But I still, nonetheless, like dogs.  Well, I like some dogs.  I like nice friendly dogs that wag their tails and like to be petted and won't threaten, or bite or bark at me.  So really it depends on the dog.

Today while walking in the forest of Pacific Spirit Park near UBC I came across a lovely friendly dog, I think one of those obscure Australian breeds, maybe an Australian shepherd, with a huge tree branch in his mouth and he came over for a pat or three, often just narrowly avoiding knocking me over with his branch.  He was a lovely dog, a bit smelly but that's part of being a dog.  Three years ago in the same forest I had to fight off a huge vicious dog with a big tree branch because he clearly wanted to do some very unkind things to be.  Don't try to tell me that all dogs are basically good.

And don't tell me that we humans are inherently evil.  We have, of course, a huge capacity for evil (Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, to name a few.)  We have also a huge capacity for good (Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Jane Goodall, to name a few.)

I have encountered human beings who appeared to be downright evil.  I have encountered dogs that appear to be downright evil.  So then, why, do you ask, why do humans do so many bad things to each other, to other creatures and to the planet that dogs don't.  Stupid, stupid question if one has ever been asked.  Humans have certain attributes that dogs lack: extremely high intelligence and hands with opposable thumbs, to begin with.  Bad dogs can't do a lot of harm because they do not have the resources, but try and put six badly trained pit bulls in a pack and let them run loose in a suburban neighbourhood and then try to convince me that dogs are inherently good.  They are dogs.  They are not inherently good or evil.  We are humans.  We are not inherently good or evil.  But we are greatly capable of doing very good and very evil things and these same things, good and evil, often come out of the same people.

Christopher Pratt did a lengthy gig as a war artist during the Second World War.  I have seen some of his drawings of the cadavers of Auschwitz victims being unearthed.  Heart rending and stomach churning and not suitable talk for the dinner table.  After months and years of seeing and visually recording these and other horrors is it any wonder that Mr. Pratt would take such a fatuous and such a sweepingly black and white view both of humans and canines?

The Swiss Protestant religious reformer John Calvin believed firmly in the absolute depravity of man (sic), that apart from divine intervention in our lives that we were all lost and condemned to hell, ourselves being incurably and unredeemably evil.  As an Anglican I do not subscribe to this way of thinking.  I see us as being flawed and broken and in need of redemption and healing but I also believe that humans are basically capable equally of good and evil and so much depends on how and what we choose to do with our lives.  I did spend two  years in a fundamentalist American Presbyterian church, but here in Vancouver, and eventually left after ultimately choking on their extreme narrow views.  Shortly before leaving I was having a coffee conversation with a member of said church and she mentioned that we were all of course unconditionally depraved.  I replied by mentioning a passage in the Book of Acts.  St. Paul and all his companions were shipwrecked by a storm and washed onto the shores of the island of Malta.  The inhabitants showed them every kindness, taking them into their homes, binding their wounds, warming and feeding them.  One other thing.  Paul and some of his companions were Christians.  None of the islanders taking care of them were.

No comments:

Post a Comment