I would rather be a saint...
A new essay at Dappled Things
Just before Christmas, Dappled Things published an essay of mine on their Deep Down Things blog. The essay takes a line from Augustine’s Confessions as a starting point and goes into questions of writerly vocation, though I think many of the considerations are relevant to vocation more broadly.
From the essay:
Coming back to my initial questions, as a writer I still feel the urgency of Augustine’s challenge, was there no other material on which I could have exercised my intelligence and my tongue? To answer in one way, we know that we are formed by stories, by art, by literature. We know from our own human experience that beautiful art, whatever its form, can move us toward the truth and the good. How important it is, then, that we have artists creating poems and novels and stories that are directed toward these transcendentals, who strive to understand the fullness of the human experience and dilemma without reducing it to materialism or social forces or any other nihilist philosophy. We need to have artists who are rooted in the true and good and not just curiositas, novelty, or the philosphie du jour.
As an unestablished writer, though, it is difficult to justify large chunks of time spent not with my children, not helping at parish events, not planning elaborate lessons or giving more detailed feedback on homework assignments, not participating in Mass or in a Holy Hour every day, not doing a hundred other good things. It can feel at times that my work is empty, that there is so much more demanding work upon which I could exercise my intelligence and tongue, my fingers and eyes, my mind and my body. I can justify that someone out there ought to be writing great works, but it is harder to justify that time and sacrifice in my own life.
Please head over to Deep Down Things to read the rest of the essay and to check out the rest of the wonderful writing on their website.
Spot on, Eric. Contra Beha, Maritain says that only a Christian, nay a mystic, can be a complete novelist, because he has a truer vision of man (paraphrasing). I'm reading "Gates of Heaven" by Glenn Arbery, and he does a wonderful job exploring the theme of acceptance, which is what you are writing about. There are three possible approaches to acceptance: rebellion, resignation, or consent. Only consent will accrue to your soul's benefit. Also, you can say with all humility that you are a Gifted Writer, possessed of talent, vision, and vocation. Whether the world ever recognizes that is another matter altogether. You write in service of that gift, period.
Beautiful reflections, Eric. I've struggled with the same dilemma in several areas, and come to similar conclusions. Part of my struggle has been learning to trust the fact that I am drawn to certain things as a sign of calling rather than a temptation. Not saying that can't ever happen, but you are right - what would the pursuit of holiness even look like without specific vocations?