To Be Civilized

Posted by Catherine A. | February 23, 2012 | 27 Comments

In a scripture class, taught and attended by women in my stake, I was recently asked to read a story written by Paul Sullivan, published in the Reader’s Digest in 1996, about the Cellist of Sarajevo.

The setting was Bosnia, 1992, two months into the Bosnian war that killed over 100,000 people and proved to be the most devastating conflict in Europe since the end of World War II. Before the war, thirty-five year old Vedran Smailovic had been a cellist for the Sarajevo Opera – a distinguished career to which he longed to return.

On May 27^th of that year, not far from Smailovic’s apartment, a small bakery, one of the few that still had a supply of flour, was distributing bread to a long line of starving patrons. At 4 P.M. a mortar shell fell directly into the middle of the line, killing 22 people and splattering flesh, blood, bone, and rubble. Sullivan writes,

When [Smailovic] saw the carnage from the massacre outside his window, he was pushed past his capacity to absorb and endure any more. Anguished, he resolved to do the thing he did best: make music. Public music, daring music, music on a battlefield.

For each of the next 22 days, at 4 P.M., Smailovic put on his full, formal concert attire, took up his cello, and walked out of his apartment into the midst of the battle raging around him. Placing a plastic chair beside the crater that the shell had made, he played in memory of the dead Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor, one of the most mournful and haunting pieces in the classical repertoire.

He played to the abandoned streets, smashed trucks, and burning buildings, and to the terrified people who hid in the cellars while the bombs dropped and bullets flew. With masonry exploding around him, he made his unimaginably courageous stand for human dignity, for those lost to war, for civilization, for compassion, and for peace. Though the shellings went on, he was never hurt.

Smailovic’s brave stand stirred me profoundly. He showed complete control in the face of darkness. I imagined how I might have felt had I been walking a nearby street, stepping over the insufferable devastation of ethnic cleansing, when the strain of his expert bow on strings floated into my ears.

Nancy Baird, the teacher for our class, arranged to have Michelle Ferry, a cellist from the Orchestra at Temple Square, and Nancy’s daughter, Kara Carlston, play Albinoni’s Adagaio in G Minor, right there in our chapel. The music was indeed haunting. It was mournful, emotive, and it bored a hole right through me.

I felt as if my insides would ignite for the longing I felt to defend all that is good. When they finished playing, a solemn reverence hung in the air. Nancy said, “Surely this is what it means to be civilized…to stand for the sacredness of life in the face of bombs…to step into a river of light that includes order and freedom to act.” (Listen to Michelle and Kara play Albinoni’s Adagio by advancing the audio to 46:00.)

I have thought for several days now about the need to preserve civilization in our nations, our cities, and where we can probably teach it best, in our homes. The terrifying blow of mortar shells may not sound in our streets, but there is still a need to stand for the civilized way. To intervene anywhere human life is devalued.

Nancy taught that civilization is comprised of two elements. Order (Moroni 9:18) and freedom. God has always intended us to live with order, to have a structure in place, laws to follow, parameters. But He has also given us freedom – that unmatchable gift we ought to give each other – particularly our children, our family, and our friends.

Since Nancy’s lesson I have felt the need to be more civilized in my home. To model civility when my children are anything but civil with each other, to stand firm and unruffled despite the chaos around me. To allow them choice and freedom whenever possible. It is not easy. But how else will my children come to understand this higher way of living?

Those two words, order and freedom, ought to undergird my actions more. I cannot think of a better way to live life or run a home. When freedom hovers over order, we are able to act with love, make beautiful music, and step, as Nancy said, into a river of light.

What do you think it means to be civilized? Has a certain piece of music stirred you in a similar way? Have you made a big or small stand for civility recently? If so, what was your experience?

Photo of Vedran Smailovic playing in the ruins of the National Library in Sarajevo (1992) by Mikhail Evstafiev

Category: Daily Special

Comments

27 Responses to “To Be Civilized”

Marintha
February 23rd, 2012 @ 2:11 am

Lovely, Catherine. I love the imagery. A great reminder and a great analogy.
Michelle
February 23rd, 2012 @ 2:20 am

Wow. Yet another amazing post that leaves me with much to think about. Thank you.
Jen
February 23rd, 2012 @ 9:28 am

Beautiful. The post and the music. This is something I’ll be pondering in my heart for a while, I’m sure.
angie f
February 23rd, 2012 @ 10:57 am

We have been battling for civility full time in our home lately. I love the way you’ve tied it to order and freedom. It makes me think I’m not totally crazy. Music does something to the brain. I know that if I can get my kids to practice their piano before school in the morning, things go better. It’s as if someone took a magnet to all the metal shavings in their heads and lined them up right. Without the music, it’s hit or miss.

My most powerful tools in our family battle are words. We have a subway style board in our stairway alcove with all the action words from the 13th Article of Faith. We have another sign that proclaims “kindness begins with ME” and a Deseret Book wallhanging to remind us to count our blessings.

Thank you for giving me some more ammunition.
Liz C
February 23rd, 2012 @ 11:01 am

Absolutely lovely. Thank you for sharing this today! I’ve often said I don’t want “socialized” children, I want civilized children. This inspires me in my goal!
Jennie L.
February 23rd, 2012 @ 12:15 pm

That is incredible! Thanks for writing this down so profoundly and linking us the this haunting and gorgeous song.
Catherine A.
February 23rd, 2012 @ 12:33 pm

angie f – good music is indeed a mark of civility. I liked this: “It’s as if someone took a magnet to all the metal shavings in their heads and lined them up right.” So interesting. I see that pattern in myself. And I couldn’t agree more with you that words are a most powerful tool. In the home life, I find it requires great self-discipline to constantly chose words that are civil, that rise out of love (rather than frustration). Thanks for your comment here.

Liz c – “socialized” vs. “civilized” – brilliant.
Nikki Eberhardt
February 23rd, 2012 @ 2:09 pm

Cath, this is beautiful imagery. Thank you for bringing the sacred into my day. What a powerful act and a reminder that powerful acts can happen even in apparently mundane circumstances. xoxoxo
Anne Marie
February 23rd, 2012 @ 3:57 pm

Beautiful, Cath. Thank you so much for sharing this story and your thoughts. I love the image of stepping into a river of light. That Adagio is definitely one of the most beautiful pieces of music.

I love this idea of civility. You are absolutely right. In the home, we have an unusual opportunity to model decency and goodness. My husband regularly does this. He is always ready to defend the reputations of friends and family members. He somehow can stay centered enough to see beyond little annoyances and believe in someone’s core goodness. My husband is like the eye of a storm for me. I can have a swirl of emotions, “nursing past grievances”, and I find myself clinging to his grace-filled, forgiving soul to bring me back.

Thank you for sharing bits of your heart here, Cath. Your desires and aspirations are so good. xo
Melissa M.
February 23rd, 2012 @ 6:42 pm

Beautiful post, Catherine! It’s easier sometimes (well, a lot of the time) to be civilized outside of my home than in my home, but your post has reminded me that I need to be more civilized at home, and teach my children to do the same.
she-bop
February 23rd, 2012 @ 8:59 pm

The chorus of the song “Do what is right” has been rattling around my head all day. After reading this beautiful post I think it’s appropriate to share:

Do what is right; let the consequence follow.
Battle for freedom in spirit and might;
And with stout hearts look ye forth till tomorrow.
God will protect you; then do what is right!
Kellie aka Selwyn
February 24th, 2012 @ 1:00 am

Before I had children I read (and fell in love with) Orson Scott Card’s ‘The Lost Boys’. One of the passages in it states along the lines that parenting is ‘raising barbarians’ – it continues to explain that parents are meant to take barbarians and bring them up to be civilised, participating members of a decent society. It’s always stuck with me (particularly the barbarians part on hard days) and reminds me of what my goal is.

I use music, lots of music, lots of ways and times, to teach and calm and civilise my boys. To have more than a mass mentality, more than the ‘other people do/talk/listen/watch/act whatever’ excuse. My 10 year old opens the house door for me, saying “Ladies first.” I don’t know exactly where he got it from, but I thank him every time he does it. Being civilised doesn’t just happen when you become a grown up.

The Adagio is enormously famous in Australia, for playing at a pivotal point in the movie ‘Gallipoli’. (Mel Gibson is one of the actors, and I’m pretty sure he was in his late teens/early 20′s when it came out). I love this piece.
Michelle
February 24th, 2012 @ 2:48 am

I just wanted to add one thought that I had as I came back to this post. Working to overcome a short temper has been no small thing as a mom. I used to think I was a pretty patient person until I had kids. I was horrified by my weakness, and ached so much to be a better mom. But it’s like I didn’t know how to get from here to there.

It hasn’t happened all at once, but I can see how God has helped my mother heart grow and change and develop line upon line. I’m still not where I want to be, but time has also taught me that to be where I really want to be, I need God. I can work and count to ten and talk myself through some of my weak moments, but what I really hope for is to have the rats in my cellar (hat tip to C.S. Lewis) finally rooted out through the Atonement.

And lots of time and trying.
Sage
February 24th, 2012 @ 6:40 am

Thank you. Love this. Read about the cellist of Sarajevo before. Touching and sad story.

Want to be more civilized/disciplined in my home. I used to have “True discipleship requires discipline” on my wall. I think it is time to display that reminder again in my home.
KDA
February 24th, 2012 @ 9:23 am

Catherine, thank you for the inspiring post. After studying rhetoric for so long, I have found its limits in addressing conflict. I can see how the musician turned instead to the poetic. His very courageous response to a horrid situation gently challenges me to be more civil in the very small-scale conflicts I experience daily.

I often find the divine through the artistry of others, especially in the every day, simple beauty I observe in the gifts and talents others have to share: the bread my VT companion Melissa makes, the outfits my visiting teacher Tami assembles, the quiet acts of diplomacy performed by our gospel doctrine teacher Sarah, the penmenship flourishes my daughter puts on notes to me. I do like high culture, but I cherish these more commonplace acts of civility, beauty, and self-expression, too.

And, Michelle, I struggle with a short temper, too. Thank you for emphasizing the fact that this is a gradual, hard-won change. I appreciate the new-to-me CS Lewis quote.
Linda
February 24th, 2012 @ 10:47 am

Gorgeous, moving, powerful. Thanks so much.
Catherine A.
February 24th, 2012 @ 3:55 pm

Nik – you’re a dear to venture over here and comment. Thanks for your facebook link. You summed it up well. Powerful acts can happen in all kinds of places, even in seemingly mundane circumstances. Thought of you while writing this and your love for the people in that part of the world.

Anne Marie – I agree very much with this: “In the home, we have an unusual opportunity to model decency and goodness.” But is harder than I thought it would be. What a sweet word of tribute to your husband. You are so blessed. I related to these words: “I can have a swirl of emotions, ‘nursing past grievances’, and I find myself clinging to his grace-filled, forgiving soul to bring me back.” It’s like you said once – thank goodness for grace and fresh starts. xo

Melissa M – I wish I could copy and paste your thought here into the original post. “It’s easier sometimes (well, a lot of the time) to be civilized outside of my home than in my home.” I could have said those words myself. Thus, the challenge. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one working at it. Love you.

she-bop – “Battle for freedom in spirit and might” – perfect.

Kellie – I love your sweet son. “Ladies First.” This kind of civility really ought to be taught at home. And I agree – music has such a calming, elevating effect – on the barbarian in all of us. And thanks for the intro to Gallipoli. Hadn’t heard of it. But who wouldn’t want to see Mel in his twenties?

Michelle – thank you, thank you for your honesty. I too have discovered how short my fuse can be at home. I think often of Jacob’s words, that we can feast upon God’s love and purify our hearts, if our minds are firm. (Jacob 3:2) A firm mind is a most worthy and important attribute to pursue. I also find myself thinking of Moroni’s words during hard mothering days, of having a “peaceable walk” (Moroni 7:4). Thank goodness for trying. And your nod to CS Lewis – “rats in the cellar rooted out through the Atonement” – Excellent imagery. Thank you.

KDA – This was intriguing to me: “After studying rhetoric for so long, I have found its limits in addressing conflict. I can see how the musician turned instead to the poetic.” It’s a lifeline isn’t it? A sense of preservation for the soul when all else fails. And your observations of the more commonplace acts of civility were so very beautiful. They stole my breath.Thank you so much. For sharing your wisdom.
*camille
February 24th, 2012 @ 4:48 pm

{For each of the next 22 days, at 4 P.M., Smailovic put on his full, formal concert attire, took up his cello, and walked out of his apartment into the midst of the battle raging around him. Placing a plastic chair beside the crater that the shell had made, he played in memory of the dead Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor, one of the most mournful and haunting pieces in the classical repertoire.}

For me, this speaks to me and says: You have the ability to control how YOU will act in certain situations. Not just situations of horrific circumstance, but in all situations good or bad, we have the ability to control our actions, outlook, and the way we want to be remembered. It isn’t always easy to be responsible for our actions, for we may not always act the way we might hope we would. But Smailovic reminds us of the power we have to lead by example.

I’m trying with my children to model civility as well.
“To allow them choice and freedom whenever possible.”
At 39 weeks it really isn’t easy but I’ve found the more I say “Yes!” to small request, the more civil I feel and I don’t really know why. Lately I’ve felt like I hear myself say “No!” too much and it feels so good to say “YES!” Who cares about popcorn kernels left in the carpet after their own organized movie night! Who cares about a basket of clean laundry from a day of my girls playing dress-up.

“YES!” is the new “no!” and I’m finding that I can weather storms more easily and have greater compassion and peace when things seem to crumble around me.

Luv your writing as always!
*camille
February 24th, 2012 @ 4:49 pm

*39 weeks pregnant…see I have pregnancy brain…and actually my due date is tomorrow so let’s just round up and say 40 weeks!
Barb
February 24th, 2012 @ 9:49 pm

profound and stirring!
Catherine A.
February 25th, 2012 @ 1:31 pm

Sage – I meant to say thank you for this quote: “True discipleship requires discipline!” I’m writing that one down for my bathroom mirror.

Cami – You’re a riot. 40 weeks today! Do we have a baby yet? I think it’s quite something you have the presence of mind to contribute something intelligent here. Love the popcorn kernels and extra basket of laundry – all for the love of saying yes! I completely agree with you, the more I say yes, the more civil I feel. Intriguing isn’t it? Have you read Ann Voskamp’s thoughts about saying yes? I love her.

“Yes is air. In the rarefied oxygen of that one word, ‘yes!’, the dreams breathe deep and the body exhales joy. I embrace [the] mess and try to be done with the slow suffocation of ‘perhaps’ and ‘we’ll see’ and ‘maybe’ — the biding of time till the visions wither limp — and every day I try to remember that control smothers and fear asphyxiates.”

Wishing you a healthy and safe delivery of baby boy K. xo
RB
February 26th, 2012 @ 12:54 pm

Thanks Catherine,

I hadn’t heard this beautiful story before. Have you noticed Albinoni’s Adagio in the endowment video? I remember it most vividly as Adam and Eve are cast out of the garden, accentuating the sadness they feel. The two other pieces that stir me similarly are Barber’s Adagio for Strings and Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares Pritouritze Planinata

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mII0NXGM6uE&feature=related

They all bring forth a great amount of longing in my heart.
Catherine A.
February 27th, 2012 @ 11:41 am

RB – I had not made that connection – with the endowment video. I will listen more closely next time! Thank you.
Saydi
February 27th, 2012 @ 5:18 pm

You’ve done it again Catherine, helped me feel exactly what I need to feel. I keep wondering why my kids aren’t more civil, then I step back and see that I’m not exactly modeling civil behavior towards them – towards my friends, always – towards my dear children and husband, not always. This is a good reminder. And something about that music while getting the reminder….really makes it all sink in.

Thank you!

My mom’s going to love this.
Vennesa
March 9th, 2012 @ 8:06 am

Catherine, I just keep coming back to this post so that I can link to and listen to Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor again and again.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, this story and this beautiful song.
bonnieblythe
March 13th, 2012 @ 10:49 am

This was absolutely wonderful! A few weeks ago I was praying *with real intent* – you know those kinds of prayers – and the answer to my question of what the Lord wanted me to learn was “courage.” I thought, “hmm, I hadn’t thought of my life as lacking courage, but I’ll work on that.” Over days it became obvious that there are things that intimidate me in small ways: an unwillingness to call people, or a quietness in groups of strangers, or a retreat to a book when there’s a conversation that needs to occur with one of my kids, and maybe even commenting on a “big” blog where I usually just lurk. Those were my battlefield and that kind of courage has changed my soul, opened it up a bit, made me more accessible. I love the way Smailovic made his gifts more accessible and how that alters him as much as it alters those who hear him. If fear and doubt are our greatest limitations to faithful action, then the courage to be civilized in our myriad battles is our best medicine for self and society. LOVED this post.
Linda
March 23rd, 2012 @ 2:34 am

The power of music is simply amazing. As the mother of a missionary serving in the field, I found it very difficult to deal with the recent traumatic injuring of of 2 Young LDS Elders (the first in a young man from our Stake serving the Toronto, Canada area, and the second in Brazil). I turned to music for peace and reassurance, the result being the Youtube Video posted below. I hope all of you will join with those of us who love these 2 young men in remembering them in their prayers to help bring them home. Watch the video at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZA9N8oOkzvg