864: Modern Day Saints

And now for hot takes with an idiot. The part of the show where hot takes on major cultural events are shared within a year or two of the event taking place.

Falling squarely into our purview today is perhaps the most foundational cultural event of the decade, perhaps even of the millennium. I speak, of course, of the slap.

There was a time, long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, when I watched the Oscars. It was always a painful experience, but somehow the pain seem worthwhile. I believed, at the time, that the pain of watching drunken, nihilistic, egocentric celebrities snobbishly congratulate themselves while simultaneously making flagellating statements about all human life not centered in Los Angeles California was worth it, because it was a pain which could be shared across the whole of society. Human society functions when the individuals living in that society are able and willing to bear each others burdens. By watching The Oscars I felt that I was in some way bearing a burden which I shared with my neighbors. It was never fun, but in some ways I believed it to be character enriching.

That was then, this is now. I stopped watching The Oscars for good the night that Joaquin Phoenix used his Oscar speech to talk about the evils of dairy farming.

Watch if you dare. Honestly I would just skip over it if I was you, but it’s a real thing.

They say that even the bravest will crack under torture. For me, this speech was the final straw. Regardless of how much I wish to share the burdens of those around me, this is a level of idiocy which even I, an idiot myself, cannot bear to dignify by giving it audience.

So I stopped watching The Oscars.

But even in my self imposed bubble of isolation I could not help but hear about the slap. The fact that, for once, one of the individuals in this ridiculous ceremony, not just those who watched it from afar, was on the receiving end of something literally painful was noteworthy enough that it seemed like everyone on the planet paid attention.

What was it about this event that was so startling? What was so compelling about it that no one could look away?

The answer is that it was actually painful.

Human life is always, to some degree or another, filled with pain. One of the central questions of our existence is how this pain should be dealt with. In the time of Moses it was instructed that a goat bearing the sins of the people, which were the ultimate source of the pain, was to be led outside the camp. This goat would bear away the sins and presumably alleviate the pain of the people.

In Christianity the ultimate answer to the problem of pain is found in the figure of Christ and the crucifixion. As Jesus instructed his followers to come after him carrying their own crosses, many saints have in their own ways borne the pain of those around them.

One problem poised by those who seek a post-religious world has always been finding suitable ways to deal with the pain of humanity. We can see this as far back as the French revolution, when a rejection of religion was immediately followed by chopping off as many heads as possible on the guillotine. Human sufferings requires an end point, if that cannot be supplied by religion that end point might be supplied by our fellow citizens.

One of the answers to the reign of terror in France was a young man named Jean-Marie Vianney, who at the time was secretly being brought up in the outlawed Catholic Church. He wasn’t particularly bright or articulate, but on an emotional level he understood the pain that was experienced by those around him. He became a parish priest in a town of 350 people, where he prayed and mourned for the suffering he saw around him. By the end of his life at the age of 73 some 20,000 people a year were traveling to his small out of the way village, not because he was a great speaker, but because he felt there pain and made an effort to carry it to God.

This is what a saint does.

In this regard there is some correlation between acting and sainthood. The great saint feels the pain of those around him and carry it to God. The great actor observes the pain of those around him and reflects it back so that the general population can see it more clearly. While there may be something to be said for both of these ways of addressing pain it is unavoidable that today’s culture relies much more heavily on the second method than the first.

Regardless of its prevalence in our modern age, there is something distinctly lacking in the mirror approach to pain. Those who experience pain, and especially those empathize and share in the suffering of others who are in pain, are venerated more than those who merely notice that pain exists.

This is the dichotomy between Will Smith and Chris Rock.

Will Smith is, without question, an exceptional actor. But the world does not need exceptional actors. The world needs true empathy. By publicly being subjected to real pain Chris Rock has given our modern culture something for which it yearns; the promise that someone else, someone who is elevated above our station in life, can experience pain.

When I watched The Oscars I was doing it because I believed in the value of the shared human experience. Perhaps I was unaware that the most shared of all human experiences is pain. This fact alone makes the infamous slap perhaps the most relatable moment in Oscars history.

But perhaps there is more. Perhaps we want those we venerate to take our pain upon themselves. Historical examples indicate that this is what the most revered and respected characters in society have always done. While Chris Rock did not willingly submit to being slapped because of his deep love for humanity, it might be that his suffering is the closest we are likely to see in our society to the archetypal hero bearing the burdens of his civilization.

These deep and important thoughts bring me to look inward at the person I am, and ponder if I could be doing more to alleviate the suffering around me. Should I, for example, once more subject myself to The Oscars so that I can bear with my fellow human beings the pain and agony which this event foists upon the world at large?

Maybe that’s what a saint would do, but I’m no saint.

I’d rather get slapped in the face.