In my Catholic grade school, the nuns taught us that a Catholic baptism created an indelible mark on our souls, presumably so we could be held to account at the last judgment. I always thought this was a curious idea, rather like branding a cow, but I later came to understand that this was just an extension of the idea that character is fixed at birth, and only divine intervention can move it. Thus, we always tend to go with the worst when evaluating someone's worth. Someone we thought was a good person does something bad, and we immediately think that their "true" nature has been revealed. I would be curious to know if this is a culture-specific idea, or if it's baked into our genes, the only truly indelible mark we have.
When I was an undergraduate, my favorite (and most unsettling) class was Comparative Theology. Raised Catholic, I was taught the same things you've mentioned here. Rome's hold on the secular mind was so strong and the idea of eternal damnation so frightening that I was afraid to consider any other approach to humanity's relationship with the eternal transcendent source we limit by naming it "God."
Although your question may be rhetorical, it reminds me of two things. Jone is James Hillman's "acorn-theory, which he presents in "The Soul's Code." In his view, the imprint of character is present from birth. But I don't think he equates this with genetics, which has more to do with biology.
Your comment also reminds me of comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell's lectures on how the basic elementary concepts of man's relationship to the cosmos have formed a pattern over the millennia, which tells the same mystical story. That pattern varies only insofar as various regional ethnicities have attempted to express it in terms of their own language and concepts.
The significant deviation from the pattern occurs in the Judeo-Christian tradition, which posits that man and God are separated by Original Sin. This suggests that the idea that one's "true nature" might be bad even if he's been "good" till then is indeed a culture-specific idea.
In Buddhism and Hinduism, for instance, our actions create karma, whether good or bad. And in both, the soul goes from lifetime to lifetime on an infinite journey.
I suppose I thought of expiation in relation to Leslie Van Houten because crime and punishment tend to bring up the question of atonement. And whether that's even possible. Dostoyevsky's "Crime and Punishment" is more in line with Jane Eyre. Just as she makes Mr. Rochester suffer physical deformity, the diseased soul of Raskolnikov is only healed in the end through suffering.
These speculations could go on forever, but I'm very grateful that your comments asked new questions and contributed another perspective. Many thanks. I really appreciate it.
In addition …it’s challenging to gracefully consider the perpetrators of these heinous crimes in light of those loved ones who remained - impacted/ haunted - for their lifetimes by these tragic deaths.
LVH has certainly created a life in prison that by certain standards is model behavior. Still , it’s hard not to judge. Certainly that parole board must have struggled or at least had reservations about their recommendation.
I love your comparisons to Justice Kavanaugh and Mr. Rochester. So well done, Andrew.
Yes, it is challenging to consider those two very different perspectives, Sara.
One thing I didn’t mention in the piece is that forgiveness has less to do with the wrongdoer than with the one who must choose to forgive.
It’s for one’s own health, healing, and release that we must forgive.
That’s why I feel doubly sad for the victims’ families. Their burden of loss is compounded by the challenge of forgiving those who caused it.
Difficult questions all around. Thanks for taking the time to consider them and contribute your thoughts. Much appreciated, Sara.
PS: Interesting to recall that Charlotte Bronte makes Mr. Rochester suffer at the end of the novel.
She doesn’t let him get off with his own calculated idea of expiation. There is still the matter of karma.
After he’s maimed and blinded, Jane Eyre embraces him with a higher love than the one born of girlish fantasy. They are both transformed. It’s such a great novel!
This is such a thought-provoking piece of journalism, Andrew. As are all your writings. As Kurt mentions, this brings up serious philosophical concerns about forgiveness and atonement.
We are loyal to the character we play in our story. It is important to name the role the character takes. The hero has certain characteristics. The miscreant has their own behaviors. You made me curious about her new role in this her different story. Thank you for this very powerful consideration of the powers of expiation.
Thank you for adding this important dimension regarding “story,” Kurt. LVH has been the subject of several stories—movie, TV, news, a podcast. During the many times she applied for parole, she told a version of her story that was certainly intended to show she’d been rehabilitated.
Like you, I’m interested in what her story will be now. And whether she has been able to forgive herself, which may be the most difficult task of all.
Thanks again for reading and weighing in. Much appreciated!
I’ll never forget the horror that gripped the nation after the Manson murders, and how we were all relieved when the culprits were arrested, tried and found guilty. Expiation for them is something I never even considered, but of course, it’s possible for people to change and atone for their evil deeds. I like the reference to Rochester in Jane Eyre, but expiation is more than doing a good deed to cancel a bad one. It’s also about true repentance. I hope LVH has truly taken responsibility for her part in the La Bianca murders (even though she may have not caused Mrs. La Bianca’s death herself). This piece was thought-provoking on many levels, Andrew.
So glad you pointed out that expiation requires true repentance. Without that, the rest is futile. Of course, no one can judge another person. But I suspect the parole board got it right in this case. I also think the two governors overruled the board's decision so many times because the "danger" LVH posed to society was mostly political. Thanks for reading and weighing in. I really appreciate it.
In my Catholic grade school, the nuns taught us that a Catholic baptism created an indelible mark on our souls, presumably so we could be held to account at the last judgment. I always thought this was a curious idea, rather like branding a cow, but I later came to understand that this was just an extension of the idea that character is fixed at birth, and only divine intervention can move it. Thus, we always tend to go with the worst when evaluating someone's worth. Someone we thought was a good person does something bad, and we immediately think that their "true" nature has been revealed. I would be curious to know if this is a culture-specific idea, or if it's baked into our genes, the only truly indelible mark we have.
When I was an undergraduate, my favorite (and most unsettling) class was Comparative Theology. Raised Catholic, I was taught the same things you've mentioned here. Rome's hold on the secular mind was so strong and the idea of eternal damnation so frightening that I was afraid to consider any other approach to humanity's relationship with the eternal transcendent source we limit by naming it "God."
Although your question may be rhetorical, it reminds me of two things. Jone is James Hillman's "acorn-theory, which he presents in "The Soul's Code." In his view, the imprint of character is present from birth. But I don't think he equates this with genetics, which has more to do with biology.
Your comment also reminds me of comparative mythologist Joseph Campbell's lectures on how the basic elementary concepts of man's relationship to the cosmos have formed a pattern over the millennia, which tells the same mystical story. That pattern varies only insofar as various regional ethnicities have attempted to express it in terms of their own language and concepts.
The significant deviation from the pattern occurs in the Judeo-Christian tradition, which posits that man and God are separated by Original Sin. This suggests that the idea that one's "true nature" might be bad even if he's been "good" till then is indeed a culture-specific idea.
In Buddhism and Hinduism, for instance, our actions create karma, whether good or bad. And in both, the soul goes from lifetime to lifetime on an infinite journey.
I suppose I thought of expiation in relation to Leslie Van Houten because crime and punishment tend to bring up the question of atonement. And whether that's even possible. Dostoyevsky's "Crime and Punishment" is more in line with Jane Eyre. Just as she makes Mr. Rochester suffer physical deformity, the diseased soul of Raskolnikov is only healed in the end through suffering.
These speculations could go on forever, but I'm very grateful that your comments asked new questions and contributed another perspective. Many thanks. I really appreciate it.
Whoops… wasn’t supposed to post yet !
In addition …it’s challenging to gracefully consider the perpetrators of these heinous crimes in light of those loved ones who remained - impacted/ haunted - for their lifetimes by these tragic deaths.
LVH has certainly created a life in prison that by certain standards is model behavior. Still , it’s hard not to judge. Certainly that parole board must have struggled or at least had reservations about their recommendation.
I love your comparisons to Justice Kavanaugh and Mr. Rochester. So well done, Andrew.
Yes, it is challenging to consider those two very different perspectives, Sara.
One thing I didn’t mention in the piece is that forgiveness has less to do with the wrongdoer than with the one who must choose to forgive.
It’s for one’s own health, healing, and release that we must forgive.
That’s why I feel doubly sad for the victims’ families. Their burden of loss is compounded by the challenge of forgiving those who caused it.
Difficult questions all around. Thanks for taking the time to consider them and contribute your thoughts. Much appreciated, Sara.
PS: Interesting to recall that Charlotte Bronte makes Mr. Rochester suffer at the end of the novel.
She doesn’t let him get off with his own calculated idea of expiation. There is still the matter of karma.
After he’s maimed and blinded, Jane Eyre embraces him with a higher love than the one born of girlish fantasy. They are both transformed. It’s such a great novel!
This is such a thought-provoking piece of journalism, Andrew. As are all your writings. As Kurt mentions, this brings up serious philosophical concerns about forgiveness and atonement.
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment, Sara. I really appreciate it.
We are loyal to the character we play in our story. It is important to name the role the character takes. The hero has certain characteristics. The miscreant has their own behaviors. You made me curious about her new role in this her different story. Thank you for this very powerful consideration of the powers of expiation.
Thank you for adding this important dimension regarding “story,” Kurt. LVH has been the subject of several stories—movie, TV, news, a podcast. During the many times she applied for parole, she told a version of her story that was certainly intended to show she’d been rehabilitated.
Like you, I’m interested in what her story will be now. And whether she has been able to forgive herself, which may be the most difficult task of all.
Thanks again for reading and weighing in. Much appreciated!
I’ll never forget the horror that gripped the nation after the Manson murders, and how we were all relieved when the culprits were arrested, tried and found guilty. Expiation for them is something I never even considered, but of course, it’s possible for people to change and atone for their evil deeds. I like the reference to Rochester in Jane Eyre, but expiation is more than doing a good deed to cancel a bad one. It’s also about true repentance. I hope LVH has truly taken responsibility for her part in the La Bianca murders (even though she may have not caused Mrs. La Bianca’s death herself). This piece was thought-provoking on many levels, Andrew.
So glad you pointed out that expiation requires true repentance. Without that, the rest is futile. Of course, no one can judge another person. But I suspect the parole board got it right in this case. I also think the two governors overruled the board's decision so many times because the "danger" LVH posed to society was mostly political. Thanks for reading and weighing in. I really appreciate it.
Interesting connections.... thoughtful and compassionate (as usual)
Many thanks for reading and sharing your encouraging comments. Much appreciated.