(The Death of Socrates : Jacques Louis David: 1787)
"In this landmark of Neoclassical painting from the years immediately preceding the French Revolution, David took up a classical story of resisting unjust authority in a sparse, frieze-like composition. The Greek philosopher Socrates (469–399 B.C.) was convicted of impiety by the Athenian courts; rather than renounce his beliefs, he died willingly, discoursing on the immortality of the soul before drinking poisonous hemlock. Through a network of carefully articulated gestures and expressions, David’s figures act out the last moments of Socrates’s life. He is about to grasp the cup of hemlock, offered by a disciple who cannot bear to witness the act. David consulted antiquarian scholars in his pursuit of an archeologically exacting image, including details of furniture and clothing; his inclusion of Plato at the foot of the bed, however, deliberately references not someone present at Socrates’s death but, rather, the author whose text, had preserved this ancient story into modern times."
There must be something poetic about "The Death of Socrates" opening up the season of "Atheism for Lent". It is a week before Ash Wednesday and I am excited about Atheism for Lent. This will be the second year and will most likely be a very different experience for me. Last year was transitional for me and the season ended in a Good Friday where I laid to rest a long time friend. That's right... I buried Jesus. Good Friday didn't meet Easter last year for me, for the first time in 53 years.
This year... I am walking into Lent with not many expectations. It will be a new journey for me and one I am willing to see unfold with all it's surprises. I decided to prepare myself with an introductory course on "The Philosophy of Religion" from the online education platform called "Wondrium". The goal of the instructor was that I would come away with "not being told what to think, but encouraged to think." I wish I had more of those experiences when my time was freed up to do nothing but learn. Oh how I might have enjoyed education more if it was about the freedom to explore and think and question and process. Now in my mid fifties, I have the opportunity and I feel like a sponge. I want to soak it all in.
I think the last year has given me more of a sense of peace with my place and space in life. I am less anxious about what others feel, but still grieving a loss. Last year was about letting go. Maybe this year is about learning contentment with open and empty. Maybe I don't have to find a replacement for the loss. Maybe I just get to find a friend of the space left behind.
It seems that Socrates didn't go out fighting... the story seems rather peaceful, a surrender of sorts. Not surrendering his convictions, for they were still precious to him, but surrendering his need to exist because the cost to exist was too high. His convictions would live on long after he died. Maybe to him, that mattered more than his earthly existence.
I think the poetic part is his exit. He was able to lay down his life, instead of having it violently ripped from him. Not many had that freedom.
“If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever. Your mind is your predicament. It wants to be free of change. Free of pain, free of the obligations of life and death. But change is law and no amount of pretending will alter that reality.”
― Socrates
