Faith

Carol Maso’s work is an interesting combination of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry that I have never heard before. It wasn’t hard to follow, but each reading contained so many themes and messages. The excerpts she read to us sparked so many ideas in my head I actually found it difficult to decide which to write about.
The first reading was from “Mothering during Wartime,” a story about a mother trying to protect her child during a time of war. It contained many references to actual war—Baghdad, the Germans, bombing, soldiers—but it seemed to be more about a mother protecting her child in other ways. It showed a characteristic all parents possess, the need they feel to shield their children from any kind of pain. When we were younger we trusted them to do just that, but roles change as we mature. The parent-child dynamic becomes a confusing mix of camaraderie and authority; we want to experience more independence but at the same time seek the comfort only parents can provide. As much as our parents want to protect us and as much as we want to be protected, we need to fall down and pick ourselves back up, we need to be on our own and learn from our mistakes. The part of the reading that jumped out at me the most was, “If I could only take your hand and make everything okay again.” Mothers and fathers probably all think this way, and it could apply to any situation. It’s true they can’t always make everything okay again, can’t change the past, can’t fix every mistake. Every now and then, a simple squeeze of the hand or a look says everything will be all right. I know when my mom tells me everything will be okay and we’ll get through it, I believe her.
Although there are times we all want to protect and be protected from sadness, it is an inevitable part of life. This is the theme in another of Maso’s readings, from “Intersection of the Saints.” Maso read, “Life is unbearable without suffering.” This reminded me of the cliché, “If you want to see the rainbow, you’ve got to make it through the rain.” I’ve always agreed with this sentiment; how would we know true joy if we never suffered? How would we understand success if we never failed? The reading talked a lot about the suffering of saints, and how they are “in every imaginable place.” It is comforting to think that there are saints, or guardian angels, or whatever we want to call them, looking out for us along the way. This doesn’t even have to be related to any religious beliefs; personally I believe my guardian angels are my family—dead and alive—and friends. Maso made a beautiful metaphor about faith, “The heart swings like a pendulum, near and away from God.” When terrible things happen to us, personally or as a whole, we tend to question our faith and ask why. Why do we have to resort to war? Why is there a tumor in her brain? Why did he have to die? There really is no answer to those kinds of questions, because it is a matter of faith. Fortunately, though, according to the saints in Maso’s story, “there is always hope” and, most importantly, “there is always love.”
Maso did not speak much about Baltimore, but she did share how her view of cities in general changed drastically after 9/11. She now sees them as “vulnerable, fragile, and precious,” having a “silent community.” Her friend who was an air traffic controller on duty that day said he just “wanted to take the plane flying into the World Trade Center off the little screen and hold it in his hands.” I believe we all think this way. We wish we could just pick up all the soldiers in Iraq and place them in their houses, take away all crime in the cities with the wave of a magic wand, remove every tumor out of every cancer patient with the snap of our fingers. Obviously it’s not as easy as all that, but it is a matter of faith. I don’t think it has to be faith in one specific religion or god, but faith in whatever makes you believe everything will be okay.