We had our first class today, and I think I could have easily done without. We really didn’t do much more than go over what will be required of us during the two-semester course. I’m a little disappointed about that and irritated. I’m paying for this — and it’s expensive. I don’t want to go and waste time and money like that.
But it’s possibly a moot point. I had a disturbing realization this evening. It was nothing new — I’ve had thoughts along these lines many times before. But it was a new twist on it, a new perspective. I’m always critical of professional sports: “Grown men [occasionally women] getting paid to play a game!” It seems to have no importance in the grand scheme of things, both in the immediate future and the distant future. It does no good for anyone on an existential level. Well, I guess that’s not quite true — it provides spectators with a few moments of enjoyment. Still, generally speaking, the spectators are the privileged few who can afford to pay for admission or buy a television.
How does that make the ineffectiveness of tonight’s class a moot point? Simple: What good does religious studies for anyone except those of us studying it? What will I learn by spending x years at BU? Some theories; a few ways of looking at religion; the importance of the simple idea of perspectives? Probably. And what will I do with that? Go teach other people the same thing. And what will they do with that? Not much, I’m sure. (This is all, of course, generally speaking.) It’s the ivory tower principle. Such scholarship seems to do very little good for those outside universities. It’s like playing professional baseball: It’s especially fun for those who are involved, and for a few devoted spectators, but for the vast majority of people, it does no good whatsoever.
Religious studies seems in some ways a particularly futile and self-serving endeavor because being able to discuss social elements in religion and philosophical implications of certain theologies will never put an end to the strife and suffering that is attributable (both directly and indirectly) to religion. Jihad cannot be prevented by a thorough understanding of this or that principle, nor can education really do much for those indoctrinated in the necessity of such drastic measures. The same holds true for the Catholic zealot who bombs abortion clinics to stop what is to his mind (and it’s almost always a “he” not a “she”) a religious obscenity and crime.
Maybe I’m just affected with intellectual, existential tunnel vision. There’s always the principle of the butterfly that started a hurricane. Still, it just seems like there are other methods of getting hurricanes initiated (and we do need a few of them, ideologically speaking) that have much better odds of success. Sort of like decreasing volume to increase the frequency of molecular collisions, I guess.
What am I saying? That I want to be a Schweitzer? That I want to abandon my studies (which I worked so hard to be award the privilege of pursuing, not to mention anticipated for so very long) and go off and work in a homeless shelter? Perhaps. But not right now. Rashness is seldom rewarded with success, so, for now, I’ll stay where I am and do the best with the opportunities I’ve been given.
I guess it all goes back to homesickness. I still think about Lipnica a horrid amount, more than I should I suppose. I still think about what I might or might not be missing out on by not teaching there, or what I might not be providing (rather, what I’m definitely not providing) by being here.