august 2008 newsletter...
imagination cultivation...
Independence Day marks the month of August in India, and this year was India's 61st. I felt quite nostalgic, gathering with the whole school community at the flagpole to celebrate. Perhaps it's that the modern nation of India is still so young, or still beating its way out of the colonial cocoon, or still facing threats to its status as a secular democracy...I'm not sure of the cause, but I do know that our gathering held a sense of urgency. As the ceremony came to a close, a senior stepped up to lead us in the traditional shout of, "Jai Hind!" or "Victory to India!" The roar of response - and the passion behind it - totally overwhelmed me. India still fights for the freedom of her citizens, and it's good and right to hope for this freedom.
Our speaker for the event focused on a particular kind of freedom, and I've found myself mulling over her remarks since August 15th. She told the story of a Harvard professor, whose son complained that it wasn't fair his father refused to buy him the latest, greatest toy. The professor agreed that yes, life is not fair. He added, "Aren't you glad life isn't fair? It isn't fair that you have two parents, a nice home, a great education..." It's a simple enough story, but our speaker went on to remind us that, though we have many unfair privileges, we also possess a precious freedom: the freedom to imagine the circumstances faced by those less fortunate than we. When we take advantage of that freedom, we find our conscience growing in proportion, along with a sense of obligation to work towards change.
Just a week later, I finished reading Graham Greene's novel, Brighton Rock. Greene tackles the opposite side of this same freedom, through a profoundly evil character referred to as The Boy. Describing him, Greene says, "The imagination hadn't awoken. That was his strength. He couldn't see through other people's eyes, or feel with their nerves. Only the music made him uneasy, the catgut vibrating in the heart; it was like nerves losing their freshness, it was like age coming on, other people's experience battering on the brain." Because The Boy could not imagine anyone's experience but his own, because he actively shut out other people's lives, he became irredeemably evil.
Mulling over the consequences of exercising the freedom to imagine and refusing to exercise it has persuaded me that a large part of humanities education consists in training young minds to imagine their way into other people's lives. I've been thinking about this a lot. That's one major reason why we read great literature and study the past. Our project is to build not just an intellectual awareness of multiple experiences, but to actually cause hearts to expand. I've even come to see this "imagination cultivation" as a deep part of our calling as believers. We are constantly to be entering into relationship with our neighbours, to be learning where God is expanding his kingdom, and how we can be part of that process. How can we do this, apart from imagination? And if we truly imagine the lives of others, using our hearts and minds, we will be driven into prayer and action.
In fact, it almost seems like Paul in Philippians considers imagination and humility closely related. He says, "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death - even death on a cross." Christ went infinitely beyond imagination to incarnation, giving up heaven to make himself one of us. Maybe cultivating our imagination by trying to enter other people's experiences allows us to echo the beauty of the Incarnation in some small way that teaches us humility and others the love of Christ.
Please pray that I will imagine well, and teach my students to do the same. Pray that, together, our hearts and minds will grow. If you have some time, please also find out more about the current brutal violence against Christians in the Indian state of Orissa. This last Friday, all the Christian institutions in India, including this school, closed to protest the violence. More than 400 homes have been burned in the last week. Several particularly grisly murders have taken place. These are our brothers and sisters who need protection, and church leaders need wisdom.
As always, I thank you profoundly for your prayers and support. All the messages and letters are wonderful. It's so exciting to find a real paper letter in my mailbox, and I'm doing my best to write back. I love the gmail variety, too. I do miss you all greatly. I have held many imagined conversations with you in the last month.
Your fellow pilgrim,
Amy