An atheist’s prayer
What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: “This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence - even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!”
Nietzsche, The Gay Science (Walter Kaufmann translation)
Heartbreak comes to me in small pieces. It comes when I least expect it. Other times rage overcomes me, as it did this morning.
I have to step back to explain what happened. My daughter Celeste suffers from cerebral palsy. It manifests as relatively mild neuromuscular impairments along with more severe cognitive ones. She is five years old and cannot speak. Her understanding is limited.
I will not try to explain the pain and frustration I fight every day; the day to day grind I can handle. It is the moments when my guard is down that inform this story. Here’s an example.
A few months ago Celeste and I were at a mall with an indoor playground. It was near Christmas, and the mall was packed. CC loves slides, and was waiting her turn in line, her hand in mine. She bumped into a little girl about her own age, maybe a little older. The girl turned, looked at Celeste, and said “you’re funny looking”. She cut me to the quick. Celeste did not understand her. There was no malice on her part. But I stood there and tried not to cry.
I think a lot about what constitutes a good life, and what it means to be human. I fight my fear and pain by trying to appreciate the beautiful and the good. Celeste has a laugh that melts hearts. She is a happy child, and her sister treats her with astonishing grace and tenderness. Every day my wife shows me what courage and determination mean. Celeste’s teachers embody quiet heroism. They take care of children who face terrible challenges. They do it for little pay, and not enough appreciation. I can see their manifest love for the children. I live my days in the presence of innocence that does not fade.
If Nietzsche’s demon came to me, I would tell him that I willingly stand by Celeste for eternity.
Now about the rage. This morning over coffee I read this:
HORSHAM, Pennsylvania — Filmmaker Morgan Spurlock was nominated for an Oscar for his McDonald’s documentary “Super Size Me,” but the reviews were mixed for a profanity-laced, politically incorrect speech he gave to several hundred high school students.
Spurlock, who ate nothing but McDonald’s meals for 30 days to make his Oscar-nominated 2004 documentary “Super Size Me,” spoke Friday at Hatboro-Horsham High School in suburban Philadelphia during its first-ever Health and Wellness Fair.
In his hourlong presentation before 700 students, Spurlock joked about the intelligence of McDonald’s employees, using an Indian accent as he imitated a cashier trying to figure out how to ring up a Quarter Pounder hamburger. He also joked about “retarded kids in the back wearing helmets” and teachers smoking pot in the balcony.
There actually were special education students in the back row. Teachers led them out during the hourlong presentation.
When I think about what those teachers must have felt, my heart races and my eyes narrow. They deserve better than that. I consider what the parents of those children must have felt, and adrenalin chokes me. And then I ask myself whether any of the special education students understood what was said. And the rage takes me.
Had I been there I likely would have left in handcuffs, and with no regret.
I don’t believe in god, and I don’t pray. I try to understand what it means to be good, and why it matters, but I don’t have an answer. I do believe that I am the product of the choices I make. I chose what I am, and choose what I will become. Today, just this once, I pray that I never become so small and so ugly as Mr. Spurlock.
Posted on March 27th, 2006 by pwyll
Filed under: General
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“An Atheist’s Prayer”…
Here’s something everyone needs to read, something from which everyone can learn.
I can’t possibly come up with a way to set this up properly.
There are some who claim to champion the underdog, while at the same time they devalue the lives…
“Had I been there I likely would have left in handcuffs, and with no regret.” Ditto me dude.
Your post gave me chills. Very well said.
That was a powerful post. I know you don’t pray. I’ll say one for you and your family.
[...] Carnal Reason » An atheist’s prayer I don’t believe in god, and I don’t pray. I try to understand what it means to be good, and why it matters, but I don’t have an answer. I do believe that I am the summation of the choices I make. I chose what I am, and choose what I will become. Today, just this once, I pray that I never become so small and so ugly as Mr. Spurlock. [...]
I have a disabled child also, and I’m with you. And am sick of being told to lighten up by people who just don’t get it.
I don’t know why you are an atheist, but if I know one thing it is that all I know of God is love. To love and champion your child is to love and champion God. Jesus said, “Inasmuch as ye did it for one of the least of these, ye did it for me.” By claiming your child’s birthright, you enlarge the heart of God, you bring light into the howling darkness of a cruel world. And He has a pretty roasting, toasting place set aside for those who mock His precious children.
Yes it sucks to see our kids mocked. But we will win a better place for them. It doesn’t matter if what we say we believe is different. Our actions will proclaim it. You go!
And I will pray for you to keep on keeping on, and feel the power of a God mighty to save, tender with His children as a mother hen shielding her chicks with her wings.
I want to thank all of you for your support. I appreciate it.
[...] After reading something like this the other day, it’s good to hear a story like this just to take the edge off a little. Florida Cracker [...]
To my recollection, this is the first post by pwyll that has stirred an outpouring of comments, all laced with insightful input.
Exchange of information (and emotion), the Internet’s true purpose.
I’ll bet God hears all prayers- even those of atheists. You may not see Him–but He sees you.
Some of the most powerful writing yet. Thanks for sharing your description of those events.
It is arguable that this is why misfortune exists. It gives people the opportunity to respond with grace and heroism, and provide examples for us all.
The Shakespearean influence shines through on this old folk song Dylan did at Carnegie Hall in ‘63:
“…. These be seven curses on [Morgan Spurlock]:
That one doctor will not save him,
That two healers will not heal him,
That three eyes will not see him.
That four ears will not hear him,
That five walls will not hide him,
That six diggers will not bury him
And that seven deaths shall never kill him.”
[...] Most people’s problems expand to take up all available bandwidth. I bring it up to acknowledge it. I’m no different. I plan to write some posts about my own circumstances. I do so not to complain; in the balance I have little to complain about. But I do have a five year old daughter, Celeste, with with serious developmental issues. I’ve mentioned her before. I’ve learned a few things caring for Celeste, and hope I can say something that will be useful to someone in similar circumstances. But not tonight. [...]