I had the opportunity to practice my grandfatherly skills
during a trip to visit my granddaughter.
We do not share many physical resemblances but as you can see we both
have the same take on the world. I spent
time with her and then returned home while Barb went down for a longer visit
and I spent some time visiting our parents (3 of them) who live in a retirement
home/nursing facility. That physical and
emotional location – involved with babies and the elderly on a personal basis - leads me to my criticism of what is rapidly
becoming an intellectual and political activity in these United States:
appreciating the thought of Ayn Rand.
While watching the obligatory talks from Wayne Dyer during a
local PBS fundraising event I heard him say something like: “It is important to speak on behalf of the
people not in the room.” I believe that
to be correct. I believe that to be
correct and a moral duty when the others in the room are speaking of those
absent in derogatory and mean spirited ways.
There are no Objectivists in the room with me – but I do not have to go
far to find them. They show up whenever
I watch and listen to political commentary.
What does not show up, or to be more precise, who does not
show up, in the novels of Ayn Rand are babies and old people. In his remarkable review of Atlas Shrugged,
Whittaker Chambers notes: Yet from
the impromptu and surprisingly gymnastic matings of the heroine and three of
the heroes, no children — it suddenly strikes you — ever result. The
possibility is never entertained.
Children and old people are not able to strive and succeed and dominate
and fashion their own lives. Maybe in
their future and maybe in their past – but now they need assistance. Someone has to put the welfare of those two
classes of people above their own and care for them. We call that self-sacrifice.
One of the remarkable things I have noted is how many folks
who call themselves Christian espouse the philosophy of Ayn Rand at the same
time. I have not been able to discern
how that works – what about the constant reference to the widows and orphans
and sojourners within your gate (that would be the old, the needy young, and
the immigrants) as being those who God wants us to protect.
It is true that big “gummint” may not be the way to care for
them, but it seems to me that the question is not should we care for those
folks, but rather how. There is an
interesting essay in one of the Christian Century blogs that invites that
conversation rather than the one we are now having.
Who is in your room, or your heart and mind, when you
consider how to live your life?
What makes you shrug as if to dump things off? What makes bend over and pick things up to
help carry them? Or is it who or whom
instead of what?