Divina Commedia (Part 1 of 2)

The following is an excerpt of a July 2014 email exchange between Will and Art.

Art:

I think I understand better where you're coming from, most importantly that something about the story being comic is indispensible to your understanding of Will. As I reflect somewhat, I think my insistence on the story being tragic comes from my understanding of Arthur. And I think I can go a step further and say it comes from my understanding of Art. 

Will looking the part

Not to go too personal, but I wonder if your insistence on the story being fundamentally comic is something that you can trace to your understanding of yourself and your own "fundamental life project." One thing that pops into my mind is something I heard on the radio about your naming of bands: not wanting to go overboard with the usual seriousness that accompanies such a decision. And then, as you mention in this most recent email: "I'm also far more prideful than you are, so probably far more afraid of pride." 

I've got to go to bed, so I can't begin my self-analysis on when my preference for tragedy started or how it is rooted in and/or mirrored by my fundamental life project. But if you feel comfortable, when did this tendency or perspective of yours begin to be forged?

Will:

Tough question! Not because I've lived some complex life, but because there haven't been too many moments of epiphany. But I have a few stories. 

One is related to my involvement in Kairos retreats and touches on something I mentioned in the last email. Throughout my childhood and all of college, I simultaneously believed that a just God should send me to Hell and that I was basically a good person and superior to most people because I did less bad stuff than they did. Back then, my vision of bad basically meant taking drugs and drinking. I don't even really like to think of who I was in college because I was such an ass. 

When people ask me if I'm a recovering Catholic, I say no, I'm a recovering asshole. 

Anyway, Kairos was my first exposure to the idea that Hell was my choice and not something that God wanted for me. In a way, it was the first time the concept of God's mercy started sinking in. I also started developing empathy for people who drank and used drugs. So basically, my life filled up with mercy: an understanding of God's mercy for me, and consequently a love and sympathy for others that eroded so much of my arrogance. The more I attended Kairos retreats, taught, and grew in my faith, the more I understood that the Truth I always sought is a person, not a concept. An answer, yes, but in the form of a relationship, not a formula. And consequently, all relationships became really important to me, and my love of strangers just skyrocketed.