A Playground Needs Walls
Jeff Culbreath, who shares many of my beliefs and no few of my goals for family, has been my opponent on our series of culture discussions. In a recent post I’ve just had time to read through today, he nails something down that is fundamentally important, and which I think is perhaps the strongest argument he has in favor of his approach:
“Those countries in Europe which are still influenced by priests, are exactly the countries where there is still singing and dancing and coloured dresses and art in the open-air. Catholic doctrine and discipline may be walls; but they are the walls of a playground. Christianity is the only frame which has preserved the pleasure of Paganism. We might fancy some children playing on the flat grassy top of some tall island in the sea. So long as there was a wall round the cliff’s edge they could fling themselves into every frantic game and make the place the noisiest of nurseries. But the walls were knocked down, leaving the naked peril of the precipice. They did not fall over; but when their friends returned to them they were all huddled in terror in the centre of the island; and their song had ceased.”
- G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, Chapter 9
Every culture, if it is a real culture, has a stable center of gravity - a core of permissible ideas and behaviors that do not change, or if they do, they change very slowly. For centuries the West had for its “core” the doctrine and discipline of the Christian religion. As Chesterton reminds, that discipline can be thought of as the walls of a playground.
[snip]
I’ve been fortunate to have a little window into what the Christian playground really looks like. This is due to my exposure to a few “old world” ethnic communities, not so well-assimilated, and to what I call “the last generation of the Old Republic”, Americans now in their eighties and nineties. They understood the playground, they knew where the walls were, and they knew how to climb the walls properly - and dangerously - without falling over the edge. The mischievous ones delighted in skirting the edges and almost scandalizing onlookers, but they still respected the boundaries. Think of the humor of Bob Hope, W.C. Fields, Steve Allen, Bob Newhart, or even Bill Cosby in his earlier days. When the center of gravity holds, there is a generous place for eccentricity and a certain degree of non-conformity. When Christian culture is strong and confident, there is a place for the heretic and even the village atheist.
I’ve attended religious festivals of various unassimilated immigrant communities over the years. The general atmosphere on such occasions is traditional, family oriented, and wholesome. There is a delightful intermingling of the generations: men and boys horsing around, young mothers with two or three little ones clinging to them, pretty girls walking arm-in-arm with their grandfathers, etc.. That said, it isn’t uncommon for some of the men to tell slightly off-color stories among themselves, or to drink and smoke a little more than they should; or for some of the women to gossip among themselves, or to display more bosom than they ought; or for some of the performances to be a little too flirtatious and suggestive, teasing the borders of propriety and scandalizing the pious church ladies (who are loved rather than mocked). These festivals are wonderful to behold. Everyone knows the rules. Sometimes the rules are broken, to be sure, but a good time is had by all - and the following Sunday there is long line at the confessional before Mass.
It’s no use pretending. This kind of thing just isn’t possible in the post-modern secular West - by which I mean to include most quarters of the Catholic Church - apart from a few obscure little enclaves here and there. The playground that was once Christendom no longer exists: the walls have crumbled, the barbarians are pouring in, it is impossible to know what the rules are, and no one, it seems, has anything to confess.
There’s really no way I can excerpt his post without losing context, so please give it a read if you’re not already sick of this topic. I think many of us faced with this question on a day-to-day basis care very deeply about finding the right answers, so it’s not something I tire of exploring.
And while I believe that Jeff has it right, that Christendom has crumbled and that the rules of the game have disintegrated with it, taking down the playground walls, there’s more to the story here. Hilary, in the comments section, strikes that chord:
I think the point is to keep the walls in your own life, your own soul. The walls are there for me. Built by Oratorians, who are known to be excellent craftsmen.
This is why the playground analogy resonates so well with me. I have no fear at all of the bad old world because I know exactly where the wall is. I enjoy looking over it. And I’ve been told many times by the men who built the wall that this is perfectly all right.
For many of us, the practical question comes down to, “What is there left worth seeing as we look over the wall?” This is a difficult question to answer. There is truth to the fact that we are desensitized by our environment, and that makes us less discriminating consumers. On the other hand, if we do not have some level of desensitization, the maddening state of the world would drive us to seclusion or despair, maybe both.
But many of us don’t have the luxury of leaving. And again, if we do, we leave many souls stranded without a guide to the correct path.
Then, there’s the more obvious question - what is there left in this dying world that’s worth enjoying? What diamonds do we find in the rough that we can find legitimate pleasure in?
I’ve been asked to follow up on my culture piece at Inside Catholic with specific examples. I’m making a list of what I enjoy that comes out of the mainstream culture, but I’d be curious to hear your choices as well, and the reasons why. I’d love to come up with the best examples out there, so your input is appreciated. The examples don’t necessarily need to be Catholic-themed, but should be consonant with a Catholic worldview. The Spiderman films come to mind, focusing on the notion that “with great power comes great responsibility” (”And unto whomsoever much is given, of him much shall be required” Lk. 12:48) and the idea that sometimes duty is foisted upon us, and our neglect of it has dire consequences.
So, while I’ll take The Mission and Le Joyeux Noel, I’m also interested in Cinderella Man and Saving Private Ryan.
And no, these don’t all have to be movies, but that comes to mind first as the paradigm of pop culture. I’ll take music, books, TV, comics, etc. as well.
Filed under: A Writer's Life For Me, Culture Wars
Thank you, Steve. Your follow-up questions are of course critically important.
I don’t think we can spiritualize this metaphor, though. Chesterton was not talking about the individual soul, but about society, about culture, about “the walls” as rules and discipline for the public conduct of people living in community. There are spiritual implications, but it is not primarily a spiritual metaphor.
Where to go from here? I agree that we can find things in mainstream culture to adopt and enjoy, and that we should actively look for them. But I think the more important task is to start putting those walls back up. Find like-minded friends and families who are doing the same. Get together often and create a little micro-civilization, a new playground with good, sturdy walls.
Concretely, I suppose that will vary from family to family. For us that has meant homeschooling, getting rid of television, and keeping 90% of pop-culture outside the sanctuary of our home. That has meant cleaning up our own vocabulary and speech. That has meant discovering real music, good literature, board games, ping-pong, dodge ball, and “capture the flag”. It’s the little things - a hundred little things - that make the difference.
As we’ve done this over the years, strangers have often taken notice. And do you know what is interesting? They don’t notice the walls, but they notice the playground. They notice the abundance of happy children, the joy within families, the renewal of innocent pleasures, the music, the games, and the laughter. They notice that brothers and sisters get along and enjoy each other’s company. They will come up to us after Mass, in restaurants, in supermarkets, etc., and just randomly give us compliments. I’m always extremely humbled by this. Most recently we went to dinner with another family (they have six children, we have five) - all of us together, including the babies. Apparently there was a small group dining at another table who had been watching us since we arrived. As they left, one of the men stopped by our table to tell us how beautiful our families were, how happy the children were, how well-behaved and they were, etc. He had tears in his eyes. So did I.
I put all of this in human terms, but it should be emphasized that nothing will be accomplished without God’s help, the prayers of parents, frequent use of the sacraments, etc.
I seriously lack discipline. Didn’t I say just 3 days ago that I wasn’t going to comment anymore? But I liked this perspective on the whole culture question.
“I’m making a list of what I enjoy that comes out of the mainstream culture, but I’d be curious to hear your choices as well, and the reasons why.”
I know you’re referring to movies, books, etc, but being Little Miss I Love Nature, what immediately came to my mind is the American phenomenon we call camping. Our society pushes us to “go green” and the land set aside in national and state parks gives families the opportunity to do so in a healthy, wholesome way. Everything about camping is good - it’s affordable even for large families, it’s time spent enjoying each other around the fire or picnic table, it gives us the chance to appreciate God’s creation, it requires communication, cooperation, and creativity to be successful, and it reminds us to be grateful for all our luxeries at home. It’s a secular form of recreation that’s perfectly consonant with our Catholic sentiments and values.
As for pop culture, a few kids’ movies came to mind. “Cars” teaches my little ones that living for others is the right thing to do and ultimately makes us happier individuals; the same is true of the “Toy Story” movies. “Finding Nemo” has good themes, too, such as the importance of developing the virtue of courage and loving the unloveable. I also love “Babe” and though I know it has the animal rights element in it, it is primarily about a hero who is innocent, helpful, and selfless working with his master to rise above his nature and become better than he is. Did I really get all that from “Babe”???
Dear Jeff,
I imagine that people who worry we are ghettoizing ourselves don’t realize we do in fact “go out to dinner”.
Cult members don’t go out to dinner ;).
Enjoying life is key and some of the things we like to do as a family are camping, having bonfires, canoeing, swimming, watching Br. Cadfael, sports, gardening, home repair, lawn care, ethnic dancing, home cooking and baking bread and making desserts, playing instruments, singing, visiting family, helping people and watching documentaries about Mount Everest. (okay maybe the last one is just me)
We are supposed to avoid the worldly and shallow and if that is what amuses us refine our interests a little bit. I really don’t get the cartoons for adults thing with shows like The Simpsons and Family Guy. It trivializes life. Or video games- how can there be nothing better to do than play a video game?
A great hobby/interest of mine is finding out what my childrens’ talents are and then finding a way they can apply those to our home. Rose is artistic and painted me a slate sign that said “Rose Cottage” for our cottage we rent out. Nathaniel enjoys tools and built me a grape arbor. Tim (who is 10) likes to read to the 3 younger kids. Andrew is interested in the military and is very organized, orderly and precise. Ana is very patriotic and wants to paint an American flag on the side of our barn.
I think this topic also lends itself to a discussion about education for women. If women are not educated and well read they cannot point their children in a positive direction for the literature they read, the movies they watch, the plays they enjoy and the music they listen to. (I’m a failure on music by the way).
1 Thessalonians 5: 21: But prove all things; hold fast that which is good. 22 From all appearance of evil refrain yourselves.
We have to hold fast what is good and if we really have to ask, it probably isn’t.
Maybe it’s too hard to define and it just has to be experienced.
For many of us, the practical question comes down to, “What is there left worth seeing as we look over the wall?” Answer: our fellow fallen human beings, with all their faults and warts attached.
I think the question seems to be between withdrawing and pretending the world isn’t there, and living in it. The first seems to tempt us to believe we are not of the same stuff as our fellow men, and this strikes me as a temptation to spiritual pride. The second leaves us in the path of other temptations, but also places us on the ground with the rest of the common run of humanity. I’m a human, my place is with the rest of them.
Jeff, I realise that for you the main issue is family oriented, but for me, that just doesn’t come into it.
For me the issue is only how to get on in the world while remaining both relatively sane and in a state of grace.
There are no big family moments at Mass or at home. There is just me. No kids, no husband, no parents, siblings, cousins or anything else. I’m it.
The question is a spiritual one. I can surround myself, as I have, with other Catholic friends who share the same ideas. I can live near the Oratory and go to the parties and parish activities, and do all the things that are on offer to place myself in the Catholic bubble universe. And these I have done.
But the idea that “we” need to “rebuild” Catholic society, and somehow erect the walls for everyone else, is just absurd. People like me, and most Catholics, have to go out in the world and live in it. There’s no other choice. The happy homeschooler scenario just isn’t in the cards.
And I reject the notion that the world knows nothing of the moral universe. They may not know what a well-schooled Catholic knows, particularly in the world of sexual morality, but they know more than we may give them credit for.
I can’t just walk away from the rest of the world, just because they don’t know what I have learned. I remember only too well that there was a time that I didn’t know it.
How can I stand and point the finger now?
“I think the question seems to be between withdrawing and pretending the world isn’t there …”
Speaking for myself, this distorts my own position beyond recognition.
“… and living in it.”
Something we all must do.
“The first seems to tempt us to believe we are not of the same stuff as our fellow men, and this strikes me as a temptation to spiritual pride.”
Quite true. You can’t be too careful about that. But being right about anything is always a temptation to pride. That doesn’t mean we stop trying to get things right.
“The second leaves us in the path of other temptations, but also places us on the ground with the rest of the common run of humanity. I’m a human, my place is with the rest of them.”
As is mine. No one here is advocating that we withdrawal from the human race, cease all our associations with infidels, or have nothing to do with people who don’t see things our way.
The bottom line is that when you are on your own, as a great many of us are, the walls can only exist internally.
I build them every day. And they are strong and safe. But I can’t go around trying to build them in the world. I just do’nt have the time.
“Jeff, I realise that for you the main issue is family oriented, but for me, that just doesn’t come into it. For me the issue is only how to get on in the world while remaining both relatively sane and in a state of grace.”
I don’t see how the two issues can be separated. As a Catholic, you are connected to families, to monks and nuns, and to the generations to come. As a Catholic your interest is - or should be - their interest, and vice versa.
“There are no big family moments at Mass or at home. There is just me. No kids, no husband, no parents, siblings, cousins or anything else. I’m it.”
I do understand that in a parish full of big families a single person can feel very much like an outsider, but no, you’re not “it”. Out of simple charity you ought to want for those families “a playground with walls”. Maybe you don’t need Christian culture anymore, but THEY do, and why wouldn’t you want to help them rebuild it, by your prayers if nothing else?
OK, forget the prayers, but why would you even want to discourage such a thing? Perhaps you see it as hopeless, but that’s a big mistake in my opinion. It is certainly successful at the level of what you call Catholic “bubbles”, and those bubbles are vitally important.
“But the idea that ‘we’ need to ‘rebuild’ Catholic society, and somehow erect the walls for everyone else, is just absurd.”
Well, then charity and justice are absurd.
You know first-hand what the world does to children who play in a playground without walls. Why would you wish that on anyone else? Indeed, why wouldn’t you work with all your might to protect those children from the hell that you went through? Why wouldn’t you want to fight against anyone who would rob them of their innocence, their rootedness, their identities? Why would you cooperate materially, as a consumer, with those same forces that are corrupting so many minds and souls today?
“People like me, and most Catholics, have to go out in the world and live in it. There’s no other choice.”
Same goes for me and for all of us.
“The happy homeschooler scenario just isn’t in the cards.”
It is in the cards for many of your Catholic “brothers and sisters”. (Just said that to get under your skin …ha.) You should care.
“And I reject the notion that the world knows nothing of the moral universe.”
So do I.
“They may not know what a well-schooled Catholic knows, particularly in the world of sexual morality, but they know more than we may give them credit for.”
Well, maybe. But knowledge isn’t really the point. What are they doing with it? If they are doing good things, great. If not, then we ought not participate. That doesn’t mean having nothing to do with worldly people; it means choosing what kinds of behavior to condone and, if need be, limiting the extent of one’s participation.
“I can’t just walk away from the rest of the world …”
OK, but if you’ll forgive me, you do seem to be walking away from your fellow Catholics. Why is that easier?
Dear Mary,
You wrote:
“Enjoying life is key and some of the things we like to do as a family are camping, having bonfires, canoeing, swimming, watching Br. Cadfael, sports, gardening, home repair, lawn care, ethnic dancing, home cooking and baking bread and making desserts, playing instruments, singing, visiting family, helping people and watching documentaries about Mount Everest. (okay maybe the last one is just me)”
That’s all well and good, but unless you watch South Park and listen to Green Peace (or whatever alt-rockband Hilary was talking about) you will never be able to engage the culture. You need to get out more.
Jeff,
are we ever talking at cross purposes! The answers you have given me here, show me that one or the the other of us, or perhaps both, have not a single clew as to what the other is getting at.
Honestly, your responses are the equivalent of the Surrealist lightbulb joke. A complete and incomprehensible non-sequitur.
Sorry, but to say that you’ve missed the plot, is a bit of an understatement.
“Sorry, but to say that you’ve missed the plot, is a bit of an understatement.”
At my first dance, in the fifth grade, the unfortunate girl who was assigned to me called me “dense”. I’ve never really gotten over it. And now this.
I’m confident that you are a very good dancer.
“I’m confident that you are a very good dancer.”
Don’t try to out cross-purpose my cross-purposing.