My father once read me a terrifying Greek myth about the giant Procrustes. Everyone who visited Procrustes fit perfectly into his bed.
When a guest was too tall, he cut their legs off. When they were too short, he “stretched” them till they fit.
It was a one-size-fits-all bed.
* * *
Procrustean theology adjusts reality, stretches or shrinks it, until it matches one’s preconceptions.
It is particularly applied to suffering. “Everything works out for good,” Romans 8.28, people sometimes glibly say to those who are suffering.
Voltaire satirises this belief in Candide, which I read in my twenties. Candide endures an improbable series of terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad adventures with his tutor Dr. Pangloss who believes that “all is for the best in this best of all possible worlds” Tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes. (Blithe optimism is finally battered out of them. Their eventual resolution would have pleased the author of Ecclesiastes. “We must cultivate our garden.”)
In a world in which Christians are reportedly beheaded by ISIS if they do not convert, and believers die from starvation or persecution, I cannot blithely say, “Everything works out for good.”
I would say instead, “God can make anything work out for good, because God is infinitely creative.”
* * *
Keats (once my favourite poet, now displaced by Gerald Manley Hopkins) praises “negative capability,” the capacity of tolerating “uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.”
Negative capability does not come naturally to me. I prefer things clear and simple. Come on, I joined Mother Teresa to become a nun aged 17, having finished school early. At Mother Teresa’s, life was clear and simple. You were told what to think, what God’s will was (obeying your superiors, and the rule) and wasn’t; what was truth and what wasn’t.
Ah, freedom from the responsibility to think. Until one started questioning the rules, and discovered that if you agreed with their wisdom and necessity, you couldn’t keep them.
(That is always the problem with the law.)
* * *
When, three weeks ago, I walked in alone out of the sunshine to the shadowy sixth floor Day Surgery Unit at the Churchill Hospital, it was like walking into Hades. I knew I would be wheeled out, unconscious. I considered running away, but the only alternative to surgery was aggressive chemotherapy or death, and the surgeon said surgery was the best alternative.
And anyway, I didn’t have the strength to run which sort of settled the question.
* * *
And now I live in negative capability, dwell in “uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.”
“Behind a frowning providence/ He hides a smiling face.” Does he really? I have thought as I turned over in bed in extreme pain from the surgical incision, unable to concentrate on reading or writing.
I thought of Milton. All he wanted to do from his teens onward was write something beautiful. He went blind in his forties, unable to write unless his sullen daughters transcribed his words
And that one Talent which is death to hide,
Lodg’d with me, useless, though my Soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker
Why did God let me develop a malignant polyp? I don’t know.
Will good come out of all these days in hospitals and nights in pain? I don’t know, though, of course, such an intense, intense experience stretches and changes you. It has forced me to learn to think positively to keep my spirits and energy high, and to pray, pray, pray, particularly because I am often too weak to do anything else.
Will good come out of my cancer diagnosis? I don’t know, though I expect so.
Will I die? Eventually, yes, though probably not of cancer, and not just yet.
And so I remain in negative capability, an eagle on the cliff waiting for the storm to pass, with more questions than answers, lingering in uncertainties, difficulty, doubt without any irritable reaching after fact or reason.
* * *
I love the Hegelian dialectic of the Psalms, their movement from unhappiness to acceptance to peace.
Why are you sad, oh my soul? David asks (Ps 43).
My soul was sad because I have had a malignant tumour.
My soul was sad because my surgical wound is infected
My soul was sad because I am physically tired.
My soul was sad because even my intellectual energy is limited.
My soul was sad because I do not know if the cancer has gone for good, though the doctors say that, as far as they know, they have removed it all.
My soul was sad because of this great interruption.
My soul was sad because I put off going in for a digital rectal exam and now I have had fifty shades of pain—surgical incisions and their infections; canulas, catheter removal, drainage tube removal, injected rectal dye for CT scans, daily anti-DVT injections, blood work, wound dressings…
* * *
David had many more reasons to be sad—hunger, thirst, betrayal, a bloodthirsty king, an army hunting him, parents who did not esteem him.
He listed the reasons he was sad, and then by an act of intellect and character decided to snap out of it
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Saviour and my God.
And so I will. And so I have.
I will no longer be sad because I am a different person now than I was.
I will no longer be sad because I have a 60% chance of being alive in 5 years (70% if I take preventative chemo) and, oh, will I use those years well!
I will no longer be sad because there is nothing like the presence of death on the horizon to make you feel fully alive and joyful.
I will no longer be sad because having to make five year plans will ensure I use my time well
I am no longer sad because…well, I am just not. I have experienced peace, and joy and the presence of God over this month of being very tired indeed. (Believe it or not!)
* * *
When I went to boarding school, aged nine, St. Mary’s Convent, Nainital in the Himalayas, then run by German and British missionary nuns, I was dismayed to find breakfast was buttered white bread and either fruit or egg.
The only way one could get hot buttered toast sprinkled with sugar was to be sick and sent to the infirmary. I shocked everyone by saying I wanted to get sick.
Well, I was sick just once in eight years, aged 12, and on that occasion I refused to go to the infirmary.
I kept chanting, “I am as fit as a fiddle. I am as fit as a fiddle,” until Sister Josephine, my Irish class teacher said, “If I hear you say that once again, I will smack you.”
When she calmed down, she realised I was refusing because she read us a chapter from The Hound of the Baskervilles on the last half hour of every Friday, and I did not want to miss it.
So she promised to come to the infirmary and read it to me and I went.
* * *
The middle of The Hound of the Baskervilles is very exciting. The phantom Hound of the Baskervilles, with menacing gleaming eyes haunts Dartmoor. It is the curse of the Baskervilles.
At the end, all is revealed, it was human greed, cunning and villainy, nothing spectral or supernatural.
Even if we are Sherlock, we cannot work out what’s going on when we are in the middle of the plot.
But you know, I believe it will be a good story, because I truly believe that God loves me, and that he is a very good writer indeed.
God’s weaving, God’s weaving my suffering into something beautiful, but I am in the middle of the story, and I cannot understand what he is doing.
But, you know, I trust him anyway.
Read my new memoir: Rosaries, Reading, Secrets: A Catholic Childhood in India (US) or UK.
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My book of essays: Wandering Between Two Worlds (US) or UK
April Yamasaki says
Thank you for sharing so personally and beautifully. In your reflection on “negative capability” I couldn’t help but think of it also as “positive opportunity” since mysteries, uncertainties and doubts are full of many possibilities. Gerard Manley Hopkins is one of my favourites too–I love his word of hope:
“And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.”
Anita Mathias says
I couldn’t help but think of it also as “positive opportunity” since mysteries, uncertainties and doubts are full of many possibilities.
Thank you, April, what a beautiful thought!
LA says
Dear Anita,
Blessings to you on this start of the holiday season. I am praying that your chemo/no chemo decision will leave you peaceful to celebrate the holidays. Sounds like you are well on your way. This post was lovely and well-written and I loved how you wove all those seemingly disparate things together into a description of your journey. We are so shaped by our past experiences and you are astute for pinpointing so many spots where your experience has shaped your attitudes towards your health. Maybe that’s from writing on the memoir. A world of total free will is not always a happy one, but it does mean that you can choose your attitude and reactions to things. Your decisions to be positive are courageous and inspirational. I’m so glad the Archdruid read your blog and put your link on her site or I never would have found your writing. Thank you and I wish you a Merry Christmas!
Anita Mathias says
Merry Christmas too, LA. I have more or less made my no/chemo decision, just not written about it, and more or less have peace about it.
So glad you liked the post.
Andy says
Dear Anita
I have never experienced what you are going through and considered remaining silent least that was all too obvious, but I want to tell you you matter to me.
Like David I find there are things that are too profound for me (Psalm 131) and with Job I must cover my mouth, but one thing I will share, that you have been the bringer of healing to my soul in many ways. May you receive the healing that you need as you continue to be used to bring healing.
Anita Mathias says
Thank you, Andy, that’s so sweet of you 🙂
John MacArthur says
Procrustes, GMH and Mother Teresa. All in the same few paragraphs. Your talent matches your optimism. Bravo, again.
No ‘Happy Christmases’ till Christmas Eve….
Anita Mathias says
Ah, John and that’s after all the references I took out. Being sick gave me time to think about all the books and poetry I loved–but I didn’t want to overload one blog post 🙂
Elizabeth Jones says
Anita, I am continuing my prayers for you. and updating your entry on the church prayer chain. I hope and pray that you, your dear husband and children have a joy-filled Christmas celebration. Praying that God will continue to lead and guide in your journey!
I recognize the pain/difficulty/challenges of cancer, both from the patient’s point of view as well as the loved ones’. Actually, more from the loved ones’ side, since I was one of those. My father died of cancer, a long time ago. I don’t often access those sad, lonely, difficult memories. Except–now, in my prayers for you. And, in my preparations for a Blue Christmas service next Monday evening at my church. I need to be able to journey with those for whom Christmas is not merry and bright.
Anita Mathias says
The blue Christmas service sounds like a great idea. Incidentally, my Christmas will be merry and bright (especially once I have the preventative chemo or no chemo decision set in stone). It’s almost made. Prayers for peace re. it will be very welcome, Elizabeth!
Maria Elena Campbell says
Dear Anita,
Loving you with my prayers . Merry Christmas !
Maria Elena
Anita Mathias says
Loving me with your prayers is wonderful love, thank you, Maria. I facing the preventative chemo (or not) decision and would be grateful for your prayers!
Maria Elena Campbell says
Praying dear Anita, for His counsel in the decision you take!
Hugging you some more with my prayers.
Maria Elena
Michele Burke says
Dear Anita,
Praying for you as you journey along this season in your life. I took a very non-standard path many years ago following my cancer diagnosis. I remain ever grateful for all I have learned along the non traditional road and all I have been able to share with others. Know that you are in my prayers. Encourage yourself in The Lord. He will direct your path. Sincerely, Michele
Anita Mathias says
Dear Michele, Please could you share a little bit about your “very non-standard path” and “the non traditional road,” as I am considering a similar path. I would be grateful. My email is anita @ anitamathias . com
Thanks so much for your prayers and comment.
Anita
Todd Mason says
Well said Anita. I’m a 5 time cancer survivor myself and I commend you for coming so quickly to the conclusions you have. It took me much longer to stop trying to find out what God might be up to/blaming him and instead just trust that he is good and loves me. There is something absolutely liberating about living in the moment and not taking life and joy for granted. Five year plans are awesome. Prayers for you as you ride through the the healing process.
Anita Mathias says
Thank you, Todd for your prayers!
Don says
Dear Anita, thanks as always for sharing with us your profound gifting. It’s clear that you have paid a great cost to develop it! When we reach Heaven, I imagine that we will finally get a satisfactory answer about why people have suffered. In the meantime, I am convinced that God stores essays like this one in the archives of Justice, as evidence that indeed he can make something beautiful out of everything the enemy intended for evil.
Anita Mathias says
Dear Don,
Thank you for your encouragement and kindness. As to the question in your email–hopefully this is the end of my cancer story, but, yes, I intend to continue writing through it, if I can find a way of doing so without opening myself up to too much advice or criticism which might prove upsetting. (I feel I am being led on a non-standard path on the chemo/no-chemo business, which I will be writing about.)
Happy Christmas, if we’re not in touch before then.
mari howard says
Good to see you on the up side of this, hopefully moving along & being brave and also being realistic about God’s ideas in it all. Hoping you & all the family have a good Christmas.
Anita Mathias says
You too, Mari, Merry Christmas! And thanks 🙂