The Brothers Karamazov

When my grandparents died, I inherited a set of books that my grandfather had purchased. They are an incredible collection of books including ancient Greek poets and philosophers through modern scientists, scholars, and philosophers. Authors include Homer, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Augustine, Hobbes, Locke, Bacon, Newton, Hume, Kant, Smith, Marx, Melville, Tolstoy, etc.

Earlier this month, I grabbed Dostoyevsky's 'Brothers Karamazov' from the collection and started reading it. I've been wanting to read that book since High School and for some reason, I never got to it. Wow! Tolstoy is still my favorite author, but I've found another favorite Russian author. This was the last book he wrote in his lifetime. In it, he explores a lot of powerful theological and philosophical questions. All three Karamazov brothers are beautifully developed. Alexey (Alyosha), the youngest, is described by many characters as an 'angel' for his virtue and ability to inspire others for good. He is not a shallow character, in spite of my flimsy sketch of him, and is endowed by the author with a formidable intellect. Both he and his mentor, Father Zossima, represent a virtuous life and through them, we explore the attitudes, habits, and joys that can attend such a life. The oldest brother, Dmitri (Mitya), is the least intellectual and the most physical, sensual, and passionate of the three. Note: these adjectives do not necessarily mean sexual, though there is an element of that to Mitya's character. He, like all the characters in the book (except perhaps Father Zossima and Smerdyakov), is a mix of good and evil. He is an honorable man, though often misguided through his intense passions.

The most interesting, though, is the middle brother, Ivan. His expositions on the problem of suffering and a play he invents called 'The Grand Inquisitor' are well worth reading by themselves. He is an extremely intelligent character who claims he doesn't dispute the existence of God, but inwardly is tormented and undecided on many important theological questions. He tells his religiously devout younger brother that he doesn't dispute the possibility that all wrongs will be made right, that all suffering and torment may be justified in some miraculous way in the end of creation, but that he rejects it. Not that he disbelieves the possibility, but he won't accept it. In support of this decision, he brings forth some incredibly tragic tales of suffering in children that made me shudder. A couple of them reminded me of the child in the story 'The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas' and almost made me cry to read them. He claims that regardless of any future redemption, the current suffering of even one innocent child is not worth it. I admire the character's feeling and I can understand it even though I disagree with his assumed purpose for such suffering.

A very interesting scene near the end of the book has Ivan, possibly hallucinating, in conversation with the devil. Struggling with his desire not to believe in God or the devil, he seems to be playing a game either with a subconscious part of himself or with the devil himself in which he explores parts of his philosophy and events that have derived from it. One part of that philosophy that turns out to be central to the plot is the idea that if God does not exist, if there is no immortality, then everything is lawful. If there is no absolute - and admittedly, the discussion of whether such an absolute can exist without God doesn't even appear - then there is no justification for ethics, morality, or any external standard by which conduct can be measured and judged. Every man is a law unto himself. And the consequences of that philosophy permeate the novel as they are imbibed and/or evaluated by two characters in particular, Mitya and Smerdyakov. These consequences and his own sense of guilt end up driving Ivan almost to madness and he is seriously ill when the book ends.

It's a LONG book, but a powerful one. It was really interesting to follow Dostoyevsky as he explores both sides of some long-standing issues dealing with God, immortality, ethics, and other ideas in philosophy. In answer, perhaps, to Ivan's accusations against God regarding suffering, the book ends with the death of a young boy whose life had been plagued by undeserved suffering. Primarily through the efforts of the youngest Karamazov brother, the young boy's last few weeks were made a little more joyful and his death had a significant impact for good in the lives of many of his schoolmates. The book ends with a stirring call from Alyosha to a group of boys to remember their dead friend and their feeling of kinship with him and with one another on the day of the boy's funeral. One of Alyosha's final statements is, "How good life is when one does something good and just!" and is followed shortly after by a confirmation of Alyosha's belief that they would all rise again after death and continue their associations with one another. The book ends, then, with a repudiation of the assumption that led to Ivan's fatal philosophy, which I think must reflect Dostoyesky's own view near the end of his life.

Harry Potter Inspires Again

My oldest son read all seven Harry Potter books this summer. It probably took him 2 or 3 weeks. Seriously. He's an amazing reader. As a reward for reading such hefty novels, we rented each movie and allowed him to stay up late a couple nights a week and watch them with us. The only problem with that is that he is now pretty anxious to see the last two, but he has to wait a while.

Now, if that were the end of the story, I probably wouldn't be blogging about it. Not because I don't think my son is awesome - I do! - but because that type of behavior has become par for the course. He has even gone on to read a couple of the books twice. None of this surprises me. He gets tunnel vision when he finds a book he really loves. And he loved all seven of them.

But here's where it gets exciting for me. Inspired by the privilege her brother has been enjoying, my oldest daughter started reading the first Harry Potter book. I promised all the kids that when they were old enough to read the books by themselves, I would assume they were old enough to watch the movies with mom and dad. With a desire to be a big girl and stay up late to watch a movie, she has been reading a chapter each night as she lays in bed. I would have thought that the book is a bit beyond her reading ability, but I've asked her questions about the story and she knows what's going on, so I know she's comprehending what she reads at some level.

When Harry Potter first became a phenomenon, I remember a lot of discussion about the books' ability to inspire children to read. How satisfying to see that inspiration benefiting my own children several years later.

Law vs. Justice

On my way home from the airport after my trip to Taiwan, I was five minutes from home when I bumped the car in front of me. The traffic was stopped at an intersection, the light turned green, everyone started moving, I glanced down for half a second, and when I looked up, everyone was stopped. Oops! I bumped the car. More than just a tap, unfortunately, but still pretty minor. This is what it looked like (minus a license plate, which I've whited out).

Can you see the damage? If not, be patient. You will in a minute. The driver was an older fellow who wanted his car fixed (I can't blame him; it was a nice car), so he called the police. We pulled off to the side to let traffic flow and waited. The officer was very nice, but apologetically explained that he had to issue me a citation for "Following Too Closely" even though it was obvious it was an extremely minor accident. He couldn't tell me how much the fine would be, but told me who to call to find out. I found out a few days later - $195.

Wow; I couldn't see the justice in that. I had done minor damage to someone else's private property. I have an insurance policy for things like that; I pay my premiums on time; and the insurance company covered the cost of the damage. No one was hurt; no damage to public property was done; and we impeded traffic only minimally. I couldn't see what right the city had to force me to pay a fine in addition to taking care of the damages. I still can't, by the way, but I wanted to set up my reasons for attending my court hearing.

I went to court earlier this week. It was an educational experience for me. I had never been in an active courtroom before. This was only my second citation in my life. I suppose I lead a boring life, but there's the truth. I brought with me pictures of the accident, proof that my insurance company had paid the claim, and even proof of insurance just for kicks. When it was my turn to approach the bench, I spent about two or three minutes talking to the judge, explaining what happened, showing him the pictures, and waiting to see what he would say. He was very kind and seemed to be a fair man. He asked if everyone walked away from the accident. I answered 'yes', handed him the pictures, and he looked at the one above. After about ten seconds, it was clear he couldn't see the damage, so I told him to look at the second picture (below).

A small piece of the bumper was peeled away from the car in the upper left hand corner of the license plate area. My car had only minor scratches on the front bumper. In the end, the judge dismissed the charge, told me it would not be on my record, and charged me court costs. Guess how much. $195. Not much he or I could do, I suppose, but it drove home something I've believed in theory for years - that law and justice are NOT the same thing. He knows the mechanics of the law; I'm quite ignorant of them. I'm confident that he did what he was required to do; the end result still tweaks my internal sense of justice. I'm not upset about it, but I do wish we could have a system of law that aligned well with universal principles of justice. Maybe someday we'll find Utopia, but until then, we'll do the best we can with what we've got. And it's not such a bad system overall ... just not quite perfect.

My Daughter Melts My Heart

I was looking at my wife's blog today and decided to steal a couple of pictures. Sorry Emily. I'm relying on your generosity here. These pictures melted me the first time I saw them and they just did it all over again today.

My daughter wanted to try on my wife's wedding dress a couple of months ago. I wasn't there, but Emily told me about it when I got home. The dress was out of the question, but Emily let her try on her veil and snapped a few photos of our little girl's dressup party. These are some of my favorites.

She felt like such a princess! Look at her beaming face. My kids make me so happy. How did they get to be so cute?

The Final Cause

If you were to ask yourself what motivated you to perform a certain action, to find the cause that preceded the effect, you might come up with many different answers depending on the action you're analyzing. If you take that cause you find and ask what motivated it ... and so on, turning each cause into an effect and searching for an antecedent cause, you are likely to eventually arrive at a point where you can go no further. This might mean you have found a cause that has no motive behind it. This may be your ultimate motivator, something that requires no external motivation for it to exist - something Aristotle called the 'final cause'. Another way to think about the final cause is the answer that comes back when you ask yourself what the point of life is.

But what is the final cause? Or what should it be? Or is there more than one?

On a slightly different tack, what if, when you ask the questions, you find no answers? What if you fail to find a final cause that is satisfying? What if, in confusion, you shout to the Universe begging to know what the point of it all is ... and there is no answer? What if you find no purpose, objective, or motivating force that is or should be behind any or all actions? What if, staring into the void, you listen for an answer only to hear the question endlessly echoing back to you?

Or what if you find a final cause, but your motives and actions have no connection with it? What if, with every action you take, the question 'what's the point?' pounds in your soul?

A few years ago, I found myself staring into that abyss. I thought I knew what the final cause was, but I became seriously depressed because I couldn't see the connection between that final cause and my actions ... or the actions of others around me. So much of life seemed trivial and pointless, never approaching the ultimate goal or purpose of life. I felt lost in a sea of mindless grasping for things that would never satisfy the cravings of the human heart. And my own heart felt like lead.

Have you ever felt like that? Have you ever been seriously depressed? I had felt down before, but I never knew what depression was like until I experienced it. Though I've never visited the place, I was constantly tempted to compare that feeling to hell. For any of you out there who are struggling with depression or have struggled with it, you have my sympathy. It is a terrible thing to face.

As I struggled to understand my depression and tried to find a way out, I found a book by Leo Tolstoy called 'Confession' in which Tolstoy describes his mid-life spiritual crisis. He suffered from depression for years and ultimately determined that his life, as he was living it, was meaningless. I found in Tolstoy a kindred spirit and, although his experiences weren't exactly like mine, through his words I began to understand the meaning of my struggle and was able, from that beginning, to formulate a plan of escape.

Count Leo Tolstoy

I'd love to tell you all about it, but I think I'd better get to the final cause, which ultimately became part of my solution. You see, I thought I knew the purpose of my life, but I didn't have it quite right and I didn't have the language to express it. It took me a long time to get the right words, -- and I'm still not sure I have it quite right -- but I'll try to give you the punchline of what I've learned in recent years. Another critical part of my solution was when I obtained the power to change my actions and my motives to bring them directly in line with the final cause. But that's another story.

Aristotle thought that there was ONE final cause and it could be described by the Greek word Eudaimonia, commonly translated as happiness, but more completely: joy, fulfillment, progress, prosperity ... something like that. I think Aristotle was right. I don't have an English word that really captures what I think the final cause is, but the words above get at the central idea and growth is an important element of it. I also think C.S. Lewis was on to something when he said we were composed of three parts: 1) mind/intellect; 2) spirit/emotion; and 3) body. I believe that experiencing positive growth in any of these three areas leads to joy, both of which are potentially legitimate final causes. To achieve that growth requires nourishment. Some elements of nourishment may include: 1) truth; 2) beauty; 3) friendship; 4) love; 5) exercise; 6) good food; 7) posterity; and probably many others. These are some of the things that make life worth living because they help give it meaning.

Through my struggle, I've gained a great deal of confidence in the way I view life and the efforts I make in living it. I'm far from having all of the answers, but with God's help, I believe I'll find the answers I need. Perhaps this blog could be one of the mechanisms for helping me find those answers. If you're reading this, please tell me what you think of my final cause.

What's your final cause? Do you have more than one? What motivates you? What gets you going in the morning? What do you live for? And if it was necessary, what would you be willing to die for?

Yellow Jackets

Two of my children found a yellow jackets' nest in our back yard earlier this week. I heard them screaming in the woods behind our house, but I couldn't see them and, at first, I thought they were just playing. That may sound weird, but my children have interesting ideas about what it means to play. It soon became clear that one or more of them was hurt. I could see them running toward me, but I still didn't know what was going on until they finally got close enough for me to see a bunch of yellow jackets swarming around them.

They both were stung in multiple places and, though I tried to swat the bugs off, I found many of them were stuck to the kids' clothes. Luckily, most of them had missed stinging skin, but it was a pain to get rid of them all. After a few seconds, I rushed the kids into the house to get them away from the remaining swarm and finished picking off the bugs and killing them.

In my rush to get the kids away from the swarm, I left our dog out there to deal with the rest. I don't know how many times he got stung, but he fought them off as best he could. I didn't realize he was with them. Poor guy. After dealing with the ones stinging my kids, I pulled the dog in the house and dealt with the ones stuck to him. I was amazed how resilient they were. I tried swatting at them thinking they would let go and fly off, but they just endured the swats and kept their stingers in his skin. I had to pick them off one by one and kill them. One of the stingers was inadvertently left in his skin and made the poor guy really uncomfortable until my wife found it and took it out.

Somehow I got away with only one sting, but it hurt enough to give me a lot of respect for my kids' and dog's endurance and for the power of a yellow jacket's sting. There's a University in the south whose mascot is the yellow jacket. I always thought it was a strange choice for a mascot - a friend of mine even joked about the Georgia Tech Bumblebees - but I think I see the logic behind the choice now. Those stings are really potent!

Back Together with New Floors

For Father's Day, my children brought home some bags of Hershey's hugs and kisses from church with notes attached that read:

When I am at school, or when we are far apart,
You may get a little sad, but you are always in my heart.
So here are some hugs and kisses for when I am away,
To remember that I love you, each and every day.

It was especially sweet since they left town the next day and I really did miss them and we really were far apart. And now I had four little notes with the same poem reminding me of my sweet little kids so far away. They came home this morning around 3am and it has been so nice to have them here.

This last week, we paid someone to tear up our 20 year old carpet and install new carpet and wood floors. Our new floors look SO good! Seeing the guys clean up layers of dust on the subfloor that had been accumulating for 20 years was so satisfying. It could be my imagination, but I think I'm breathing better without all that dust in the house. We all love the new floors and it's great to have my house back together and my family safely inside. Thanks to God for protecting them on their way home. Emily drove 16 hours yesterday and I'm so grateful she was able to get back safely and quickly.