Heart Breaking Stuff
It takes a lot of love my friend, it takes a lot of love these days, to keep your heart from breaking, to push on to the end. David Gray, songwriter
Election campaigns are trials of the spirit, trials to test our tolerance and our love of humanity. Every day of an election campaign gives birth to countless opportunities for the demonstration of Grace, since like Flannery O’Connor, I believe that moments when you know Grace has been offered and accepted, are prepared for us by the intensity of evil that precedes them. O’Connor captures this intensity through the words and actions of her character Mr. Head in one of her short stories. “Mr. Head stood very still and felt the action of mercy touch him again but this time he knew there were no words in the world that could name it. He understood that it grew out of agony, which is denied to any man and which is given in strange ways to children. He understood it was all a man could carry into death to give his Maker and he suddenly burned with shame that he had so little of it to take with him.”
Mr. Head had just denied his relationship to his grandson, out of fear and embarrassment. Mr. Head had failed his grandson, momentarily abandoning him to the frightening circumstances of an angry crowd, and while he finally rescued his grandchild, he immediately felt the pain and shame of his denial. Yet his grandson forgave him and only then did Mr. Head feel the action of mercy – that freely given mercy given to us though we know ourselves to be unworthy, and which we call Grace.
Election campaigns surely produce daily examples of denial and abandonment – mostly of principles and of the truth, but occasionally of the most fundamental good sense and judgment as human beings. These are occasions for people to feel shame, at least for those who still believe in it as an emotion and a benchmark for the morality of our behaviour.
I witnessed one of those moments today as I watched a CBC afternoon public affairs program. The hosts had representatives of the three major parties on to discuss the “issue du jour”, which happened to be tax reductions. John Duffy a high-ranking Liberal advisor to Paul Martin represented the Liberals. He is the fellow who approved of the “beer and popcorn” line and minutes after it was uttered by his colleague defended him and sought to reinforce the image of the recklessness of the Conservatives in giving financial relief directly to parents of pre-school children.
Today’s debate focused on what the cost of the various tax cuts announced by the parties might be. As the Conservative spokeswoman was concluding her remarks, the hosts announced that time was short and Duffy would have the last word. It was then that a most astonishing thing occurred. Duffy pulled out what he described as a “Liberal poster drawn by my daughter”. Duffy added, displaying the squiggly lined crayon drawing, that “she is very concerned about what the outcome of this election might mean for her”. A child older than 6 years of age could not have made the crayon drawing displayed by Duffy. It most closely resembles the pre-school finger painting works of our sons, which adorn quiet contemplative corners of our house. Yet here was this senior political advisor to the Prime Minister of Canada, contending that his young daughter is concerned about the outcome of the election.
Is it possible that Mr. Duffy in the moments following this action might, like Mr. Head, have begun “to feel the depth of his denial”. Can there be a much lower standard set for political behaviour than this – to offer your child’s innocent poster as a statement of concern should her Daddy’s party lose the election?
Sadly, it seems much more likely that Mr. Duffy is one of those who don’t know what Grace is and wouldn’t recognize it when he sees it.
This is heartbreaking stuff and like David Gray I feel it takes a lot of love to push on to the end of this campaign.
Election campaigns are trials of the spirit, trials to test our tolerance and our love of humanity. Every day of an election campaign gives birth to countless opportunities for the demonstration of Grace, since like Flannery O’Connor, I believe that moments when you know Grace has been offered and accepted, are prepared for us by the intensity of evil that precedes them. O’Connor captures this intensity through the words and actions of her character Mr. Head in one of her short stories. “Mr. Head stood very still and felt the action of mercy touch him again but this time he knew there were no words in the world that could name it. He understood that it grew out of agony, which is denied to any man and which is given in strange ways to children. He understood it was all a man could carry into death to give his Maker and he suddenly burned with shame that he had so little of it to take with him.”
Mr. Head had just denied his relationship to his grandson, out of fear and embarrassment. Mr. Head had failed his grandson, momentarily abandoning him to the frightening circumstances of an angry crowd, and while he finally rescued his grandchild, he immediately felt the pain and shame of his denial. Yet his grandson forgave him and only then did Mr. Head feel the action of mercy – that freely given mercy given to us though we know ourselves to be unworthy, and which we call Grace.
Election campaigns surely produce daily examples of denial and abandonment – mostly of principles and of the truth, but occasionally of the most fundamental good sense and judgment as human beings. These are occasions for people to feel shame, at least for those who still believe in it as an emotion and a benchmark for the morality of our behaviour.
I witnessed one of those moments today as I watched a CBC afternoon public affairs program. The hosts had representatives of the three major parties on to discuss the “issue du jour”, which happened to be tax reductions. John Duffy a high-ranking Liberal advisor to Paul Martin represented the Liberals. He is the fellow who approved of the “beer and popcorn” line and minutes after it was uttered by his colleague defended him and sought to reinforce the image of the recklessness of the Conservatives in giving financial relief directly to parents of pre-school children.
Today’s debate focused on what the cost of the various tax cuts announced by the parties might be. As the Conservative spokeswoman was concluding her remarks, the hosts announced that time was short and Duffy would have the last word. It was then that a most astonishing thing occurred. Duffy pulled out what he described as a “Liberal poster drawn by my daughter”. Duffy added, displaying the squiggly lined crayon drawing, that “she is very concerned about what the outcome of this election might mean for her”. A child older than 6 years of age could not have made the crayon drawing displayed by Duffy. It most closely resembles the pre-school finger painting works of our sons, which adorn quiet contemplative corners of our house. Yet here was this senior political advisor to the Prime Minister of Canada, contending that his young daughter is concerned about the outcome of the election.
Is it possible that Mr. Duffy in the moments following this action might, like Mr. Head, have begun “to feel the depth of his denial”. Can there be a much lower standard set for political behaviour than this – to offer your child’s innocent poster as a statement of concern should her Daddy’s party lose the election?
Sadly, it seems much more likely that Mr. Duffy is one of those who don’t know what Grace is and wouldn’t recognize it when he sees it.
This is heartbreaking stuff and like David Gray I feel it takes a lot of love to push on to the end of this campaign.
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