1/26/2012

I saw someone encourage divorce

Context
As referenced in this previous post, I like to read advice columns. I was reading Slate's version, Dear Prudence today, and a woman wrote in asking if it was acceptable to take a lover in light of her husband's brain hemorrhage, which has left him with the mental capacity of an 11-year-old. Prudie said no, it would probably be best to find him an assisted living facility, divorce him, and start a new life. Full column here, if you don't trust my paraphrasing.

Commentary
My snarky response to this situation is: have we become so enamored of writing our own wedding vows that we just leave out the "for better, for worse" part?

Here's my more well-considered response: I have no idea how I would respond in the advice-seeker's situation. Philosophically, though, I believe that although we may be attracted to a set of attributes, like mental capacity, sense of humor, and physical attractiveness, we don't marry those. We marry a person, and abandoning that person in their time of greatest need seems wrong.

Sometimes when my husband feels like he has disappointed me in some way, I'll remind him that I don't love what he does, I love who he is. I think he is alternately reassured and dismayed by this, but that's what he has to work with.

I suppose one might contend that a person is no longer himself after a dramatic cerebral change, but I'm not sure I buy that, either. My mother had middle-stage Alzheimer's before she died, but I have to say I never felt like she wasn't my mom anymore. She remembered less, and she didn't always know who I was, but she was still the same person. Perhaps this is what a soul is, the essential, unalterable part of ourselves. And aren't we supposed to marry our soulmates?

What did you see today?

1/10/2012

I read a definition of a term

Context
I'm reading A History of the End of the World by Jonathan Kirsch. I'm doing this because I'm thinking about attending a seminar on apocalyptic literature given by Dr. Susan Brayford, a professor emeritus at Centenary College, and she mentioned possibly using this book as a jumping off point.

Anyway, this footnote appears fairly early in the text: "The abbreviation B.C.E. (Before the Common Era) is the equivalent of B.C. (Before Christ), and C.E. (Common Era) is the equivalent of A.D. (Anno Domini, or "In the Year of Our Lord"). The abbreviations B.C.E. and C.E. are used by scholars to avoid the theological implications of B.C. and A.D., and I have used them here for the same reason."

Commentary
I don't care much for this book. I find it astonishingly disrespectful of people (like me) who take the Bible seriously and downright dismissive of the author of the book of Revelation. Usually I believe life is too short to read books I don't like, but I'm continuing with this one for two reasons:

1) It's an Interlibrary Loan. Since the library took extra effort to get it for me, I figure I should give extra effort to getting through it.

2) I am actually learning stuff, like how various apocalyptic prophesies in the Bible compare and contrast with each other.

All the above was to let you know I might be predisposed to snarkiness while reading this book. Here are the two thoughts that crossed my mind when I read the definition of B.C.E.:

1) If you're counting time forward and backward from what historic calendar makers considered to be Jesus's birthdate, calling it something different may avoid the theological implications of that, but the cultural ones are still glaringly obvious: there was some kind of history-changing event 2012 years ago.

2) Does the author really think there's anyone reading his book who won't know what B.C.E. means? This is an historical analysis of the impact of Revelation with lots and lots of references. I don't think people are going to pick it up unless they've at least seen one college classroom or done an equivalent amount of reading. And if any of that study has been in the realm of history, they've seen B.C.E. before.

What did you see today?