Cassandra: the Gift Too Great to be Borne
It was after reading some of my posts on the Gifts of the Spirit that someone close to me sent a bittersweet email. The email spoke about my grandmother. I am the youngest of a youngest and never had the opportunity to know her. Stories remain and I assemble the narrative that my siblings experienced. You see, my grandmother was given the gift of prescience. A prophetess. And she loathed it.
Given the opportunity to peer into the future, would you look? What would it have been like for Peter to hear his Lord pronounce his treachery and then listen to himself thrice betray? It was the curse of Cassandra to know the future and not be able to change it. So too was my grandmother’s gift.
I guess you could always use the knowledge to prepare yourself, but I wonder if ignorance would be less painful. It is the lesson of the atonement that the cup is too bitter to drink for its own merit. Maybe if the visions were all of Zion’s splendor. Her paved streets of gold. No more death. No more sorrow.
But the cup is bitter. And the visions are not only of Zion’s beauty.
Sounds like Galadriel’s Mirror, which showed things that had been, things that were, and some things which had not yet come to pass. Looking into the mirror was not, it seems, a pleasant experience.
Comment by Dave — 6/2/2005 @ 3:35 pm
Ahh, but would you understand the visions if you had them?
I remember the distinct impression that our third child was optional, and that there would be some degree of trial with her. I had no idea that would include her death. Still, I’m glad she was our baby.
Comment by Stephen M (Ethesis) — 6/3/2005 @ 10:28 pm
So, send any visions or foretellings my way.
Comment by Stephen M (Ethesis) — 6/3/2005 @ 10:28 pm
I think it would be at least as much a burden as a privilege. It seems that there is something of denial in much of the joy I take in living–if I knew, for example, that my wife would pass on such and such a day, I think that would cast a pallor over every experience I had with her.
It seems that the concept of treasuring every moment only yields intense joy when I can suspend disbelief in my inevitable mortality. That is, if I can’t be in the moment because I’m always ahead of it, I don’t know that moments can be fully savored.
Comment by Justin H — 6/4/2005 @ 11:15 am
Given the opportunity to peer into the future, would you look?
Good question. It is an enormous responsibility. I am not sure I would be “up” for it. I am quite certain, that is why, the opprotunity has never presented itself.
Comment by Lisa Madsen — 6/5/2005 @ 11:04 am
I wouldn’t look in the future. I hate the future! It’s filled with death and sorrow… I don’t want to be saddened by it before the time comes. I don’t want to know how my loved ones are going to die. I don’t want to see my own death. It is said that destiny cannot be changed. I know that if I knew the destiny of so many things, I would try to change it. And I would probably be defeated during the process.
Indeed. Cassandra’s life was full of suffering. She’s such a strong character. I adore her. She had the strenght to endure everything: a curse, a rape, being the sclave of a tiran, knowing when her own death would take place… And, still, she didn’t try to kill herself. Maybe if she had, she would have defeated destiny… But she knew she was but a mortal, and could never manage such a thing.
Comment by Grief-Angel — 11/14/2005 @ 5:30 am
But wasn’t the real curse of Cassandra that she could see the future and make warnings but no one believed her.
Comment by jns — 11/14/2005 @ 4:01 pm
That is correct, jns, Cassandra’s curse was that no one believed it. That did, however, translate into an impotency against the future.
Comment by J. Stapley — 11/14/2005 @ 4:24 pm