(fiction: Lecture Series) interlude #1
The Lecture Series
-- first -- previous -- next --
Miss Nisbet, please cancel all of my afternoon appointments, I believe that England is playing in a World Cup qualifier today and if I can get out of the office and down to the pub by noon
[interrupting] “Sir, one of your students is already here”
[beat]
Damn it. Which rat is it?
“Sally Fisher, sir”
Double Dammit. And I suppose she’s sitting in the chair behind me?
[beat]
“yes, sir.”
[turning, smiling]
Yes, Miss Fisher? There haven’t been any tests yet, and no assignments past the recommended reading. Is one of my textbooks out of print again?
“No, Professor. I just had a few questions...”
[interrupting] Sally, next class, I promise to have an outline for the rest of the semester, including all test days and when the research paper will be due. And while I’m going to stop short of posting Power Point slides of each lecture on the ‘net, that should be enough guidance to allow you to skip any topics that cover material you might find [beat] objectionable. Does that satisfy you for now?
“Please, sir, it’s just...”
Oh crap, she said please.
[beat]
[sigh]
Yes, Sally?
“Professor, do you really believe all that junk you’ve been spouting in class? Is there nothing in religion for you, other than interest as an academic subject?”
[beat]
[sitting, change of tone & voice]
First, let me say that the state of my soul has probably been decided for quite a few years now, and a last minute Band-Aid isn’t going to cover it.
“Professor, I”
Shush, Sally. hmm. [beat] How can I put this?
Let’s consider a metaphor, not quite a Koan, but Zen riddles are less then helpful, I’ve found. Each man [beat, looks over glasses] ...and woman, I caught that look, Miss Nesbit [returning] ...Each person is given a jar of water. This is our understanding. With this water, we can choose any vessel we like. A monk, a priest, a yogi; people like these may or may not have more water than the rest of us, but the vessel they’ve chosen is very narrow, and very deep. It extends from here, to the depths, to the heavens, and the water they have is just enough to fill it.
Their understanding is very deep, in their one subject. But the vessel is narrow. This is the nature of faith.
Others make due with what vessels they find, or are given. Most of us fall into this category. Some can’t quite fill the given cup from their jar of understanding; they find their faith lacking. Others overflow too small a cup—their religion seems to satisfy them, but they are also left seeking something more.
“Is that you sir? Was your cup too small?”
Hmm. Before I answer that, let me extend the metaphor just a bit. We all have a jug of water; the mystic, the prophet, the great lights of civilization have taken their understanding and cast it out into the ocean—instead of merely filling their cup, they have sought to share their understanding with the world. Sometimes though, it is only a drop in the ocean. The world can be a difficult thing to quench.
[Laughing] ”Please, Professor, comparing yourself to...”
Shush, Miss Nisbet. If it weren’t for that restraining order, I’d be able to talk with students in my private office, without you here as a chaperone.
“Sir, without that restraining order, I doubt you’d be *talking* with Miss Sally in your office right now”
[cough]
Miss Fisher...
[she blushes]
Sally, I’m not a priest or a prophet. The academic takes what water he has, and pours it into a broad shallow vessel. What understanding he has touches many different points, but in exchange he gives up the comfort and consolation that faith can provide. I know a lot, but I will never know what a deep and abiding faith feels like.
“Yes, Professor. I think I understand.”
And anything we cover in class is just to help you, or any of the other students, try and figure out what kind of cup you’ll use for your belief and understanding. Don’t take me seriously, particularly when I’m at my most blasphemous. It isn’t a hatred of religion that colors my perceptions, but an envy of the strength other people find in faith. But still, there is that trade off: Deep and narrow, or broad and empty. You can eat from the Tree of Knowledge, or the Tree of Life, but it is still forbidden to eat from both.
“I think... I... You’ve given me a lot to think about sir, I can’t really answer that now”
Then at this point you can drop my course and I’ll still feel I’ve taught you something. Thank you for stopping by, Miss Fisher.
“Um. Yes sir.”
[leaving]
Miss Nisbet, you heard that crap I was feeding Sally?
“What, about the value of belief? That wasn’t crap, sir.”
No, no, not that. The outline. Can you work up a schedule with the tests and papers, and figure out the lecture topics for me? The game is in [beat] damn, which time zone was it in again [beat] ...45 minutes and I need to
[interrupting]”Go, sir, I’ll take care of it”
You are a dream, a doll, [leaving, voice fading] a blessing, a veritable angel of administrative [unintelligible]... [louder:] You’re too good to me... [door slams]
“Don’t I know it, Sir”
[sigh]
-- next --
-- first -- previous -- next --
Miss Nisbet, please cancel all of my afternoon appointments, I believe that England is playing in a World Cup qualifier today and if I can get out of the office and down to the pub by noon
[interrupting] “Sir, one of your students is already here”
[beat]
Damn it. Which rat is it?
“Sally Fisher, sir”
Double Dammit. And I suppose she’s sitting in the chair behind me?
[beat]
“yes, sir.”
[turning, smiling]
Yes, Miss Fisher? There haven’t been any tests yet, and no assignments past the recommended reading. Is one of my textbooks out of print again?
“No, Professor. I just had a few questions...”
[interrupting] Sally, next class, I promise to have an outline for the rest of the semester, including all test days and when the research paper will be due. And while I’m going to stop short of posting Power Point slides of each lecture on the ‘net, that should be enough guidance to allow you to skip any topics that cover material you might find [beat] objectionable. Does that satisfy you for now?
“Please, sir, it’s just...”
Oh crap, she said please.
[beat]
[sigh]
Yes, Sally?
“Professor, do you really believe all that junk you’ve been spouting in class? Is there nothing in religion for you, other than interest as an academic subject?”
[beat]
[sitting, change of tone & voice]
First, let me say that the state of my soul has probably been decided for quite a few years now, and a last minute Band-Aid isn’t going to cover it.
“Professor, I”
Shush, Sally. hmm. [beat] How can I put this?
Let’s consider a metaphor, not quite a Koan, but Zen riddles are less then helpful, I’ve found. Each man [beat, looks over glasses] ...and woman, I caught that look, Miss Nesbit [returning] ...Each person is given a jar of water. This is our understanding. With this water, we can choose any vessel we like. A monk, a priest, a yogi; people like these may or may not have more water than the rest of us, but the vessel they’ve chosen is very narrow, and very deep. It extends from here, to the depths, to the heavens, and the water they have is just enough to fill it.
Their understanding is very deep, in their one subject. But the vessel is narrow. This is the nature of faith.
Others make due with what vessels they find, or are given. Most of us fall into this category. Some can’t quite fill the given cup from their jar of understanding; they find their faith lacking. Others overflow too small a cup—their religion seems to satisfy them, but they are also left seeking something more.
“Is that you sir? Was your cup too small?”
Hmm. Before I answer that, let me extend the metaphor just a bit. We all have a jug of water; the mystic, the prophet, the great lights of civilization have taken their understanding and cast it out into the ocean—instead of merely filling their cup, they have sought to share their understanding with the world. Sometimes though, it is only a drop in the ocean. The world can be a difficult thing to quench.
[Laughing] ”Please, Professor, comparing yourself to...”
Shush, Miss Nisbet. If it weren’t for that restraining order, I’d be able to talk with students in my private office, without you here as a chaperone.
“Sir, without that restraining order, I doubt you’d be *talking* with Miss Sally in your office right now”
[cough]
Miss Fisher...
[she blushes]
Sally, I’m not a priest or a prophet. The academic takes what water he has, and pours it into a broad shallow vessel. What understanding he has touches many different points, but in exchange he gives up the comfort and consolation that faith can provide. I know a lot, but I will never know what a deep and abiding faith feels like.
“Yes, Professor. I think I understand.”
And anything we cover in class is just to help you, or any of the other students, try and figure out what kind of cup you’ll use for your belief and understanding. Don’t take me seriously, particularly when I’m at my most blasphemous. It isn’t a hatred of religion that colors my perceptions, but an envy of the strength other people find in faith. But still, there is that trade off: Deep and narrow, or broad and empty. You can eat from the Tree of Knowledge, or the Tree of Life, but it is still forbidden to eat from both.
“I think... I... You’ve given me a lot to think about sir, I can’t really answer that now”
Then at this point you can drop my course and I’ll still feel I’ve taught you something. Thank you for stopping by, Miss Fisher.
“Um. Yes sir.”
[leaving]
Miss Nisbet, you heard that crap I was feeding Sally?
“What, about the value of belief? That wasn’t crap, sir.”
No, no, not that. The outline. Can you work up a schedule with the tests and papers, and figure out the lecture topics for me? The game is in [beat] damn, which time zone was it in again [beat] ...45 minutes and I need to
[interrupting]”Go, sir, I’ll take care of it”
You are a dream, a doll, [leaving, voice fading] a blessing, a veritable angel of administrative [unintelligible]... [louder:] You’re too good to me... [door slams]
“Don’t I know it, Sir”
[sigh]
-- next --
Posted by enchiridion at 03:20 PM in Fiction | your take on it?