Like millions of others, I was stunned to
learn of the tragic death of Robin Williams, who took his own life after a long
and unsuccessful struggle with depression.
My own children grew up watching and rejoicing in Robin’s many movies,
such as “Good Morning, Viet Nam”, “Good Will Hunting”, and “Mrs.
Doubtfire”. I will not attempt here to list
his many professional accomplishments.
That lengthy and happy task I leave to others better equipped than I,
though I will suggest that we will not soon his like again. Here I would like to focus on the legacy he
has left us.
That
legacy may be summed up in two words: carpe diem, seize the day. In a now particularly bittersweet scene from his
film “Dead Poets Society”, Williams plays Mr. Keating, an English teacher at a
prestigious boys’ prep school. He wants
the boys to be inspired by poetry, to think for themselves, to avoid the snares
of rigid formalism which pressed upon them all around. On the first day of classes, he troops his
boys from his classroom into the school’s main hall. He has them read the poetic lines, “Gather ye
rosebuds while ye may; Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that
smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying.” The
Latin for this sentiment, he tells them, is carpe
diem, seize the day. Why? “Because we are food for worms, lads,” he
tells them. “Because believe it or not, each
and every one of us in this room will one day stop breathing, turn cold, and
die.” He then bids them look closely at the
display cases containing old photos of students from years long past, and to
hear what these now long-dead students are whispering to them. “Carpe—carpe—carpe diem! Seize the days,
boys. Make your lives extraordinary.”
The
same message sounded from another of Robin’s films, “Hook”. Here he plays Peter Banning, a father of two
young children who has forgotten that he is also Peter Pan. It is a tale of redemption, since Peter
Banning has abandoned his inner child and become a driven executive whose obsession
with work is costing him the love of his wife and his two young children. His sojourn in Neverland becomes a journey of
salvation, as he rediscovers his true self and saves his children from Captain
Hook. The final scene is now also
poignantly bittersweet: it shows the reborn
Peter Banning standing at an open window, surrounded by his loving family. An aged Wendy murmurs ruefully, “So your
adventures are over.” “Oh no,” he
replies. “To live—to live would be an
awfully big adventure.” The movie ends
with his childhood friend Tootles, having been sprinkled with fairy dust,
flying with joy into the sky. And Tootles’
words as he flew through the open window?
“Seize the day!”
This
counsel not only comes to us through the joyful art of Robin Williams. It also comes through the exhortations of the
Gospel. “Behold,” says St. Paul, “now is
the acceptable time. Behold, now is the
day of salvation” (2 Cor. 6:2). We must
seize the day, and use each one of its hours to glorify the Lord and walk in
His will. We believers shouldn’t need
Mr. Keating to remind us that one day we will turn cold and die and stand
before the dread judgment seat of Christ.
We who are called to be saints do not need to belong to the Dead Poet
Society to learn that we should use the time given us by God to make our lives
extraordinary. And we who follow the
Lord to the cross and beyond surely don’t need Peter Pan to teach us that life
is an awfully big adventure. The Church
never ceases to remind us of these truths and to impress them upon our hearts.
But
not everyone enjoys the advantage of listening to the Gospel call to become
extraordinary. Some may never enter the
doors of the Church to hear its summons to the adventure that is Christian
discipleship. But they might sit in a
movie theatre or before a television screen and watch the art of Robin
Williams. They might be moved to seize
the day and reach out to try to become something more than mere masses of dying
mediocrity. It might just be the first
step to making their lives extraordinary, and maybe even the first steps back
to our extraordinary Lord.
One
final thing: as we remember with
gratitude the art of Robin Williams, let us spare a moment to remember his soul
also. It seems that at the end, he was
not able to take his own advice, and to continue the awfully big
adventure. All the more reason to
commend him to God, the lover of mankind.
O Captain, my Captain, divine Judge of the souls of all men, have mercy
upon him, and upon us all.
I am always so grateful for your peaceful approach Fr. Lawrence. As one who struggles with severe depression, thank you...and Glory to God for all things.
ReplyDeletePhilippa