Pandora and Red Lake

The recent school shootings in Red Lake, Minnesota, put me in mind of Pandora.

As I write, there is still little word as to the motive of the shooter, Jeff Wiese. But early reports emphasize that he was a social outcast and loner.

For the ancient Greeks, there was no such thing as a loner. Not biology but the father's acknowledgment of a baby determined its status as human. A newborn could be left on a hillside by the father's wish, and an adult outcast could be killed with impunity. Just about everyone, therefore-- with some spectacular exceptions, like Socrates-- made sure to find out society's expectations and fulfill them.

Pandora's claim to fame is her opening of a box that lets out woes into the world-- but why did the poet Hesiod (who records the story) choose her? The standard explanation is that Hesiod was a crusty old curmudgeon who hated women. But the story itself suggests something more particular to Greek culture.

Pandora, in fact, was a teen home alone.

The gods gave Pandora the face and charms of an unmarried girl (parthenos, in Greek), but she is also referred to as a woman (gyne). Zeus, the male in authority over Pandora, give her to Epimetheus, another adult male-- the normal practice for betrothal and marriage. The Greek audience would have imagined Pandora as between thirteen and sixteen years old. Puberty was considered the ideal marriageable moment.

What about the famous box?  It was never a box but a pithos, a huge storage jar used to hold staples like grain and olive oil. The pithos was the ancient Greek refrigerator, and like the refrigerator it was the center of the kitchen. Opening a pithos, for the Greeks, was as normal as going to the fridge for a Diet Coke, and it's likely the pithos mattered as much to Greek teenagers as it does to our adolescents.

A Greek husband did not try to manage his new wife by himself. The teen would live side-by-side with a large group of his female relatives (think My Big Fat Greek Wedding in reverse). There would be no unfettered access to the pithos for this young person. She would have to learn how to economize at the feet of her mother-in-law.

But Pandora was the first of the female sex. She was created by the gods and given all (pan) gifts (dora). She had no female relatives. She was alone in a strange place. To Hesiod and to his Greek audience, this is a recipe for trouble. Zeus, who wanted men to suffer, gave Pandora the rigged pithos, knowing she'd open it. And Hesiod reminds us she wanted to cause suffering as well. Ancient or modern, adults distrust adolescents.

Because there was no one to have breakfast with Pandora, she unleashed troubles. And the same is potentially true of every adolescent who breaks fellowship with the adult world. There are, thankfully, very few Jeff Wieses who act on destructive desires to the extent he did. But his example-- and Pandora's-- should help us remember that teens are going through a unique, difficult time of their lives, and they deserve our attention.

Have breakfast with your Pandora. You might find, as Hesiod himself suggests, that she isn't the cause of all the troubles of the world after all. He ends a version of the story with this postscript: "Or, if you don't like that story, I'll tell you another," and goes on to a radically different explanation of the ills of the world.

Hesiod wasn't writing scripture. He knew about troublesome teens. But he didn't make the mistake of turning them into the exclusive villain. He knew life is not that simple.

Comments

[Nancy]

Hi! I love the analogy. As a former preacher and current teacher (who will be on the trip to Cyprus and Greece) I love all analogies/stories, too. This is a great story and sermonette. May I use?