Fingers crossed and the end of faith
16/04/2008
I suppose that it all started in Cyprus so many years ago, and then it grew into a monster, an all-consuming monster.
On holiday in Cyprus, we had been driving in the mountains, and were coming down and round one of those horrible little hairpin bends with such a beautiful view away to the sea.
We saw one of those little roadside shrines, all too common there. Often, they were accompanied by flowers, and often they had candles, which were miraculously lit in the evenings.
In the next village, I asked about them. It seems that the Greek Orthodox Church allows for a belief about people who meet untimely deaths in accidents. Their Souls seem to need to stay somewhere around the scene of death for about one year. The bereaved gain some solace by ensuring that the Souls can see they are not forgotten. At the end of the year, assuming that they were already meant to go to Heaven, the Souls make their way there, and the intense period of mourning is over for the family concerned.
I can imagine how reassuring it must be to go each day and light a candle in the shrine, as a reminder to the bereaved and to other people of the dangers on the roads. At what appear to be dangerous bends, there are often quite a few shrines. I did wonder if people lit the candles for other grievers, in order to save them the daily journey to the site of the accident, but that was never clear to me.
Things became even more complicated when we returned home, and I noted how something similar was taking place in the United Kingdom. Where people had died in road accidents, bunches of flowers were sometimes tied to lampposts or trees. As time passed, the old flowers were replaced by new ones, and at special occasions, probably at annual frequencies and possibly birthdays, they were replaced, sometimes with many new bunches at the same time: possibly friends supporting the grieving relatives?
Then, there is the way that people react to ambulances when they were rushing to the scene of accidents, or rushing off to the hospital with victims: sirens blaring and lights flashing. People, including me often crossed their fingers for them.
I was not altogether sure what the crossing of fingers meant: clearly, it was designed to wish the victim well, and to demonstrate a sense of fellow feeling for them.
As time passed, I noted that I had come into the practice of crossing my fingers, just the once, when an ambulance went rushing by. I took the view that: “There but for fortune go I”, so it was easy to have a sense of fellow feeling for the anonymous passenger in the ambulance.
It was the same with fire engines: after all, I would want others to pull over and let a rushing fire engine rush past to my house, and put ‘my’ fire out. Crossing my fingers meant that I was wishing them the best: what I hoped they would wish me.
Over time, I noticed some anomalies. I rarely crossed my fingers when an ambulance or fire engine passed if they were not in a rush. I never really managed to cross them for a rushing police car: maybe they were going to spoil someone’s day.
Then there was the matter of the roadside flowers: should I cross my fingers every time I passed them or, maybe every second time. This was the result of a young man who had died when his motorbike crashed at the bottom of our road. I passed his flowers at least twice most days. Should I cross my fingers when on the way to the shops, or on my way home? I think that I unconsciously resolved this by treating his flowers in the same manner as someone I rarely passed: he got two crossed fingers each day, as a sort of bonus for dying close to my home: and, of course, it all evened out, as there were many flower sites I never passed, and someone else would have to do the crossing for me.
Of course, to have a rule about crossing fingers at certain sites only led to increasing complexity. Clearly, it is best to cross my fingers when I am right opposite the scene, but if changing gear in the car, I sometimes did the crossing slightly before or slightly after I passed the flowers. This made me think for quite some time: I think that I came to a solution to the effect that, it is best to cross my fingers at the site, but before or after is OK, although not quite as good. But, then the question arose: not quite as good for whom?
I was forced to face the core issue: on whose behalf was I crossing my fingers? It had to be either me or the victim.
If it was for me, it was all a bit selfish really. Maybe I was crossing so that others would cross on my behalf if I were ever in difficulties or – worse – dead. Was I simply paying insurance premiums in the hope that others would be willing to pay out when I needed it?
This all seemed to be a bit of a gamble really. Of course, others might not have the same thought processes as me, and my insurance premiums would be wasted: What if I crossed, and no one crossed in return. I think that I have a streak of altruism, and it made sense for me to accept that I might not get as many back as I sent out. However, the question remained: was I crossing my fingers for my sake, and simply using other, less fortunate people for my own, selfish ends?
It just seems to be so very unethical to use others in this way, so I resolved that the finger crossing simply had to be in the interest of the Souls. I sort of felt better with this, for a time.
OK, selfishness was out.
However, altruism remained very suspect.
But, the matter of proximity continued to be an issue: assuming that the crossings worked for the benefit of the victim, was a crossing at the site worth – say 100 percent, and one shortly before or after worth – say 80 percent. What about a crossing that was completed miles after the site? Was it worth 10 percent or maybe nothing at all?
A sad reality was that I sometimes walked past flower shrines. Is a pedestrian finger crossing worth more than one in a car, which, after all, has glass between the flowers and me. Complexity increased when I thought about the relative good of a pedestrian on the near side of the road, as opposed to one on the far side: was it worth the effort to cross the road in order to donate more effectively?
Then there was the issue of ‘who cares’?
Did Souls wander around the site of the accident, counting up the numbers of crossings? Were they upset when someone failed to cross their fingers in time, or worse, when someone simply did not ever do a crossing?
Did Souls need a certain number of proper crossings each day: and, on Christmas Day, when there was less traffic, did they gain or lose: I am sure that their families would have made a special journey so their crossings were sure to be of increased value, but the lack of casual crossings would be significant.
So, to sum up: Over time, I think that I realised that the insurance principle was wrong: it is selfish to just do it in the hope that I will gain in the longer term: I have no idea of the proportion of drivers who will cross for me or for others. Worse, I would be using the grief of others to ensure that my Soul was OK when I needed it. Others were coming to be, for me, just objects of investment. That seems to be the wrong way to relate to people.
It seems quite sensible to give money to charity in the hope that others will gain: in the main, this is measurable: money to Act Aid means people will eat. Theoretically, I could pop over to Africa, spy on Act Aid, and see for myself that the money was well spent: of course, I shall not do this, as the roads there might lead to my needing a shrine anyway.
More, I can satisfy myself that giving extra money or giving less will have consequences: they eat more or they eat less as a result of my actions. Yes, I know that my little bit is almost insignificant, but it is, theoretically measurable.
Finger crossing is difficult to measure. I suppose, theoretically, it is possible to measure the numbers of crossings, and give added or reduced weights to crossings that were close to the site or were carried out a long time after the driver passed the site. However, it is difficult to realistically give weightings to drivers as opposed to pedestrians. It would just have to be a convention of some sort, based on the fact that a pedestrian on the right side of the road is closer than a car driver, but one on the other side of the road would be of less value as they are farther away. Then, there is the matter of the car driver being inside a metal casing: and consequently removed from the site unless they opened their windows at the correct time.
On balance, however, the rate, frequency, and relative values of the finger crossings could be given values.
This is a bit close to wondering how many angels can dance on the end of a pin. It all depends on what we mean by each variable.
However, although it might be theoretically possible to measure the rate and value of the finger crossings, it seems impossible to assess whether or not the Souls gain more one way or the other.
Presumably, some Souls will be close to busy roads and other close to extremely isolated roads. Their finger crossing rates will differ, but will they
experience a difference.
It is all effectively unknowable.
I think that I have wandered into a minefield, of needing to cross my fingers at certain points, and then being guilty when I fail through any reason at all. Yet, no Soul has ever complained to me.
Consequently, I am using energy for no positive gain, but lots of loss through guilt.
I have resolved to cease the finger crossing, in the hope that the Soul will understand – if they are there in the first place.
PS:
Having completed this thought experiment, I asked my wife to read it. She thinks that I have gotten myself all tangled up through misunderstanding the whole exercise.
She says that we need to cross our fingers to deflect the evil eye: we don’t want misfortune to fall on us.
Hmm. The question arises as to whether it is more effective to deflect the evil eye by crossing my fingers opposite the scene of the tragedy, just before I get there, or just after I pass it.
Reg Burns