I can't think anymore about Luther and Augustine. They're driving me nuts! I think I finally understand where they differ on the Will, but I sure hope and pray that what I'm writing makes as much sense to my professor as it does to me. Augustine (St) is so slippery sometimes!
To make it very, very simple, I think it's like this.
Augustine: Free Will.
"Salvation by Grace" recipe: God gratuitously gives a "good will" to evil merit, then helps the "good will" with grace so that the "good will" does good works which constitute good merit which is rewarded with eternal life.
Luther: Enslaved Will.
"Salvation by Grace" recipe: God gives faith to believe Gospel of salvation. Faith justifies because Christ's works are vicariously applied, thus fulfilling the law, without any works of the man justified.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
"Good" Art
http://www.goodart.org/faq.htm
This is really neat! It's the best discussion of "good" art that I've ever run across. Usually, discussions of art are relativistic and subjectivistic. It's refreshing to see someone taking it from a different angle.
This is really neat! It's the best discussion of "good" art that I've ever run across. Usually, discussions of art are relativistic and subjectivistic. It's refreshing to see someone taking it from a different angle.
Friday, January 23, 2009
A Very Brief Critique of Machiavelli
This is a very brief criticism of excerpts from Machiavelli's The Prince which I did as part of Philosophy homework for this week. We were told to identify "the problem with Machiavelli...in 1/2 to 1 page." I barely made it. No surprise there. I guess I could have left it with the first paragraph, but I figured I need to expand the idea more.
The major problem with Machiavelli is that his advice does not center around a question of hypothetical or philosophical “Good” or “Evil” but rather focuses on how to successfully gain and maintain the position of “The Prince (The Prince, Chapter 15).” Machiavelli recognizes that virtue does not necessarily secure a prince in his princedom nor gain for him political power. But the next step in his reasoning is fatal: to pursue a secure princedom above the law of God (Chapter 15). Once this break with virtue is made, the rest of his conclusions follow quite naturally and logically. Indeed, Machiavelli seems to explain with great accuracy and wisdom actions critical to retaining power, well illustrating the historical precedent of these with pertinent examples (e.g. Cesare Borgia, Chapter 17; Julius II, Chapter 25; etc).
At the crux of this handbook of power lies Machiavelli’s misunderstanding of God’s action in history. He seems to see Divinity solely as a power which sometimes directs Fortune on man’s behalf; in no sense does God direct the actions of men to his purpose, nor does he requite the breaking of His law with man’s downfall (Chapter 25,26). When the prince is thrust from his high seat, the tumble was obviously precipitated by failure to perform the balancing act of political stratagem. The Prince cites figures who have risen from obscurity to fame, wealth, and power, but attributes the elevation not to God but to the personal achievement of the individuals (Chapter 6) despite the fact that Moses didn’t ‘do diddly’ without God’s prodding and Cyrus’ rise to power was prophesied long before his birth. Even oppressed suffering Machiavelli interprets not as a chastening of God or as a means to show forth His deliverance, but only to accentuate the greatness of the leaders who arose out of it (Chapter 26). Machiavelli appeals to God’s miraculous provision (Chapter 26) but fails to understand that God does not answer to man’s demand, nor is He an instrument of war, but acts in lawful retribution or in mercy. Machiavelli commands God’s limited assistance on the grounds that “war is just which is necessary, and arms are hallowed when there is no other hope but in them.” In this way, God is reduced to an impotent spectator, “not willing to do everything and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us (Chapter 26).”
With God restricted to mouldering in the armoury until needed, the prince is left to ride the tides of fortune guided by the “spirit of the times” (Chapter 25). To determine whether to act virtuously or not he sniffs the Zeitgeist breeze. After all, vice is not punished but rewarded when prescribed prudently in pharmaceutical doses (Chapter 8, 15). Meanness, cruelty, and faithlessness become essential political tools for “it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it...according to necessity (Chapter 16, 17, 18, 15).” When “of evil it is lawful to speak well” it becomes clear that, to Machiavelli, the measure of right and wrong is no longer set by God but by whatever a prince thinks appropriate in to stabilize his carefully accumulated house of power cards. This is Machiavelli's most serious error: the abandoning of the objective moral standard which is God.
The major problem with Machiavelli is that his advice does not center around a question of hypothetical or philosophical “Good” or “Evil” but rather focuses on how to successfully gain and maintain the position of “The Prince (The Prince, Chapter 15).” Machiavelli recognizes that virtue does not necessarily secure a prince in his princedom nor gain for him political power. But the next step in his reasoning is fatal: to pursue a secure princedom above the law of God (Chapter 15). Once this break with virtue is made, the rest of his conclusions follow quite naturally and logically. Indeed, Machiavelli seems to explain with great accuracy and wisdom actions critical to retaining power, well illustrating the historical precedent of these with pertinent examples (e.g. Cesare Borgia, Chapter 17; Julius II, Chapter 25; etc).
At the crux of this handbook of power lies Machiavelli’s misunderstanding of God’s action in history. He seems to see Divinity solely as a power which sometimes directs Fortune on man’s behalf; in no sense does God direct the actions of men to his purpose, nor does he requite the breaking of His law with man’s downfall (Chapter 25,26). When the prince is thrust from his high seat, the tumble was obviously precipitated by failure to perform the balancing act of political stratagem. The Prince cites figures who have risen from obscurity to fame, wealth, and power, but attributes the elevation not to God but to the personal achievement of the individuals (Chapter 6) despite the fact that Moses didn’t ‘do diddly’ without God’s prodding and Cyrus’ rise to power was prophesied long before his birth. Even oppressed suffering Machiavelli interprets not as a chastening of God or as a means to show forth His deliverance, but only to accentuate the greatness of the leaders who arose out of it (Chapter 26). Machiavelli appeals to God’s miraculous provision (Chapter 26) but fails to understand that God does not answer to man’s demand, nor is He an instrument of war, but acts in lawful retribution or in mercy. Machiavelli commands God’s limited assistance on the grounds that “war is just which is necessary, and arms are hallowed when there is no other hope but in them.” In this way, God is reduced to an impotent spectator, “not willing to do everything and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us (Chapter 26).”
With God restricted to mouldering in the armoury until needed, the prince is left to ride the tides of fortune guided by the “spirit of the times” (Chapter 25). To determine whether to act virtuously or not he sniffs the Zeitgeist breeze. After all, vice is not punished but rewarded when prescribed prudently in pharmaceutical doses (Chapter 8, 15). Meanness, cruelty, and faithlessness become essential political tools for “it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it...according to necessity (Chapter 16, 17, 18, 15).” When “of evil it is lawful to speak well” it becomes clear that, to Machiavelli, the measure of right and wrong is no longer set by God but by whatever a prince thinks appropriate in to stabilize his carefully accumulated house of power cards. This is Machiavelli's most serious error: the abandoning of the objective moral standard which is God.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
I Turn Eighteen
It is my Baptism Day! Yay! I actually remembered for once! Usually, I remember that my baptism day is coming a few days before, and then I remember a few days afterwards, but never on the actual day. I'm excited.
Eighteen years ago today the squirming little me got exorcised, drowned, buried with Christ, and raised with Him in resurrection, given the Holy Spirit, faith, lots of other good stuff, a name, and a candle. The last being probably the least important.
I was surprised last night to realize that the commemoration of Sarah is only one day before my baptism birthday. It's a rather neat coincidence, don't you think?
Eighteen years ago today the squirming little me got exorcised, drowned, buried with Christ, and raised with Him in resurrection, given the Holy Spirit, faith, lots of other good stuff, a name, and a candle. The last being probably the least important.
I was surprised last night to realize that the commemoration of Sarah is only one day before my baptism birthday. It's a rather neat coincidence, don't you think?
Becoming Fashionable: Last Night's Dream
Since Dreams seem to have become such a blogger fad in the last week, I'm going to join the "in" crowd with one of my own.
I can't remember all of it except that it was rather deeply emotional, and I ended up sobbing.
The two most tramatic events in the dream were as follows.
Mom somehow stole my big red cabbage from the basement refrigerator and boiled it. How could she? I mean, that cabbage was my sustenance! Whatever will I do without it! And just the thought of limp boiled cabbage makes me think, "Ick!"
Pastor Grobien was tried and convicted of heresy. The church (youth) were in a state of shock and didn't believe it. Pastor Stuckwisch was sobbing, which was most disconcerting. The Grobiens were the calmest people in the whole church. I'm not sure who exactly he was tried by, what the charges were, or what they were going to do to him, but ironically, I seem to remember that the heresy had something to do with Thomas Aquinas. This was rather odd.
I woke up trying to figure out what vegetable I was going to cook for dinner now that my cabbage had been murdered and feeling a very empty, grieving feeling, wondering how I could go back to an Emmaus without Pastor Grobien. It has not a happy awaking...until I realized that it had all been a dream.
Adendum to the Nightmare:
More just came back to me. Somehow I was in a foreign land and was somehow married, but I don't know who to. I and my mother in law were both expecting; at the same time, our village was being bombed. Daddy showed up to take me home to safety only to discover that I was married and he had to leave me. Strange things dreams are.
I can't remember all of it except that it was rather deeply emotional, and I ended up sobbing.
The two most tramatic events in the dream were as follows.
Mom somehow stole my big red cabbage from the basement refrigerator and boiled it. How could she? I mean, that cabbage was my sustenance! Whatever will I do without it! And just the thought of limp boiled cabbage makes me think, "Ick!"
Pastor Grobien was tried and convicted of heresy. The church (youth) were in a state of shock and didn't believe it. Pastor Stuckwisch was sobbing, which was most disconcerting. The Grobiens were the calmest people in the whole church. I'm not sure who exactly he was tried by, what the charges were, or what they were going to do to him, but ironically, I seem to remember that the heresy had something to do with Thomas Aquinas. This was rather odd.
I woke up trying to figure out what vegetable I was going to cook for dinner now that my cabbage had been murdered and feeling a very empty, grieving feeling, wondering how I could go back to an Emmaus without Pastor Grobien. It has not a happy awaking...until I realized that it had all been a dream.
Adendum to the Nightmare:
More just came back to me. Somehow I was in a foreign land and was somehow married, but I don't know who to. I and my mother in law were both expecting; at the same time, our village was being bombed. Daddy showed up to take me home to safety only to discover that I was married and he had to leave me. Strange things dreams are.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Aquinas and I
I'm becoming quite chummy with St. Thomas. I think the poor fellow is very misunderstood. Either that or he's misleading me, which I wouldn't put past the old chap, though I'm sure he wouldn't do that intentionally. Misleading me isn't ordered towards his last end and I'm not sure what certain good he could be pursuing that would cause him to mislead me. I'm guessing that it wasn't my "sensitive appetite" that caused us to put our heads together, though. My "rational appetite" probably had more to do with it. My "speculative intellect" is starting to put him to use. Last week, his writing provoked some of the passions of my "irascible appetite" but that is past. Somehow, I don't think Aquinas will ever directly affect my "concupiscible appetite."
More later, if Greek doesn't kill me first. φευγω. διωκει και τοξουει. If you can understand that (and if I didn't write it incorrectly) you get "full marks" for this lesson.
More later, if Greek doesn't kill me first. φευγω. διωκει και τοξουει. If you can understand that (and if I didn't write it incorrectly) you get "full marks" for this lesson.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Superior Scribbler Award
This award seems a little bit like grace. Free to be freely recieved. Thanks Pasto'! I'm quite blown away.
This most wonderful blog of wonders flowing from the fingers of one Rev. Stuckisch has bestowed the award on the most blunderful blog of blunders.
The γενεσις of this award proceeds from aqui. (Trying to get three languages into one sentence.) The Spanish word which is underlined and colored indicating a link, is in fact a link, linking ('cause that's what links do) to the blogpost ('cause that's where this link leads) wherein the award ('cause that's what this post is about) is explained.
As I haven't really been closely following many terribly active blogs, I'm going to cast around a bit.
One fish
Two fish
Red fish
Blue fish
Uh, Green Eggs and Ham.
I was going to link to the Cat-in-the-Hat, but I figured that since I've never made the fellow's aquaintance, things might get awkward...
And I'd have several others on the list only, they've "privatized" their blogses or they don't even know that I secretly stalk their blogs so they wouldn't ever know if I linked to them.
To "uncodize" the above links, I give to you;
Four and Twenty Blackbirds (Because it really does make the top of my list)
A Matter of Small Importance (Ah! The ambiance of home!)
Where the Wild Things Abide Sometimes (Celebrating the Celebrated Author)
Sarah in Real Life (It's a real Sarah that's not me.)
OFHP (Though she really does need to blog more often.)
Read you now the rules!
Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass the award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom he/she has received the Award.
Each Superior Scribbler must display the award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains the award.
Each Blogger who wins the Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List (scroll down).
That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honor!
Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
This most wonderful blog of wonders flowing from the fingers of one Rev. Stuckisch has bestowed the award on the most blunderful blog of blunders.
The γενεσις of this award proceeds from aqui. (Trying to get three languages into one sentence.) The Spanish word which is underlined and colored indicating a link, is in fact a link, linking ('cause that's what links do) to the blogpost ('cause that's where this link leads) wherein the award ('cause that's what this post is about) is explained.
As I haven't really been closely following many terribly active blogs, I'm going to cast around a bit.
One fish
Two fish
Red fish
Blue fish
Uh, Green Eggs and Ham.
I was going to link to the Cat-in-the-Hat, but I figured that since I've never made the fellow's aquaintance, things might get awkward...
And I'd have several others on the list only, they've "privatized" their blogses or they don't even know that I secretly stalk their blogs so they wouldn't ever know if I linked to them.
To "uncodize" the above links, I give to you;
Four and Twenty Blackbirds (Because it really does make the top of my list)
A Matter of Small Importance (Ah! The ambiance of home!)
Where the Wild Things Abide Sometimes (Celebrating the Celebrated Author)
Sarah in Real Life (It's a real Sarah that's not me.)
OFHP (Though she really does need to blog more often.)
Read you now the rules!
Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass the award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom he/she has received the Award.
Each Superior Scribbler must display the award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains the award.
Each Blogger who wins the Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List (scroll down).
That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honor!
Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Like the Simpleton I am, I Couldn't Resist
Yeah, it's too late. And I posted links already. But I just had to scribble out some of my favorite lines from A Man For All Seasons. Those interested can find relevant clips on youtube. Some of these are more light hearted than others, some must be understood in the larger context, which, unfortunately, I have not the time to present. Others can be appreciated on their own.
This story of Thomas More as I first saw it in the movie starring Paul Scofield and later as I read it in the play by Robert Bolts has always captivated me. If I were to name the three movies which had the greatest influence on my childhood character formation, this would rank. Thomas More is not only morally upright and scrupulous, but a caring husband and father, and sincere friend. In addition, he has gained that happy discipline of a truthful and guarded tongue taught by a shrewd, cautious, insightful intellect guided by earnest faith. From the moment the movie opens to the drop of the axe, we have an image of a man unwilling to relinquish his convictions, who loves truth more than life, and hides that life in law and justice which ultimately is denied him.
Wolsey: "You're a fool"
More: "Thank God there is only one fool on the council."
Wolsey: "Thomas, we're alone. I give you my word; there's no one here."
More: "I didn't suppose there was, your Grace."
Meg: "Will wants to marry me, Father."
More: "Well, he can't marry you."
More: "There's nothing wrong with your family, Will. There's not much wrong with you. Except you seem to need a clock."
Roper: "I can buy a clock, Sir."
More: "Roper, the answer is "No" and will be "No" as long as you're a heretic."
Roper: "Now that's a word I don't like, Sir Thomas!"
More: "It's not a likeable word, it's not a likeable thing."
Roper: "The church is heretical! Dr. Luther's proved that to my satisfaction!"
More: "Luther is an excomunicate."
Roper: "From a heretic church! Church! It's a shop! Salvation by the shilling, and divorces..."
Meg: "Will!"
Roper: "What I know, I'll say."
Meg: "You've no sense of the place!"
More: yawning "He's no sense of the time. Now listen, Will. Two years ago, you were a passionate churchman. Now you're a passionate Lutheran. We must just pray that when you're head's finished turning, your face is to the front again....... Go along."
Roper: "May I come again?" More gestures to Meg
Meg: "Yes. Soon."
More: "That you should put away Queen Catherine, Sire? Oh, alas, as I think of it I see so clearly that I can not come with your Grace that my endeavor is not to think of it at all."
Henry shouting: "THEN YOU HAVEN'T THOUGHT ENOUGH!"
Henry: "How is it that you cannot see. Everyone else does!"
More: "Then why does your Grace need my poor support?"
About the King's musical composition
More: "I thought it seemed... delightful."
Henry: "Thomas, I chose the right man for Chancellor!"
More: "I must in fairness add that my taste in music is reputedly deplorable."
Henry: "Your taste in music is excellent and exactly coincides with my own!"
Alice: "Arrest him!"
More: "For what?"
Alice: "He's dangerous!"
Roper: "He's a spy!"
Meg: "Father, that man's bad!"
More: "There's no law against that."
Roper: "There is God's law."
More: "Then God can arrest him."
Alice: "While you talk he's gone!"
More: "And go he should if he were the Devil himself until he broke the law!"
Roper: "So, now you'd give the Devil benefit of law!"
More: "Yes, what would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the devil?"
Roper: "Yes! I'd cut down every law in England to do that!"
More: "Oh. rises And when the last law was down and the devil turned round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, coast to coast - Man's laws, not God's - and if you cut them down, and you're just the man to do it, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes! I'd give the Devil benefit of law for my own safety's sake!"
Norfolk: "Cromwell! Are you threatening me!"
Cromwell quoting Norfolk's private conversation with More: "My dear Norfolk! This isn't Spain! This is England!"
More: "I understand there are certain charges."
Cromwell: "Oh, some ambiguities of behavior I should like to clarify, hardly charges."
More: "Make a note of that, will you, Master Rich? There are no charges."
More: "Yes, I wrote a letter advising her not to meddle in the affairs of state - also witnessed."
Cromwell: "You have been cautious."
More: "I like to keep my affairs regular."
Cromwell: "Thank you! You come to the point very readily. What is that authority[of Rome]..?"
More: "You will find it very ablely set out and defended, Master Secretary, in the King's book."
More: The King knows the truth of it. And whatever he may have said to you, he will not give evidence to support this accusation."
Cromwell: "Why not?"
More: "Because evidence is given on oath, and he will not perjure himself. If you don't know that, then you don't yet know him."
More: "No my lord, you don't [know that]. You may suppose I have objections. All you know is that I will not swear to it for which you cannot lawfully harm me further.
But if you were right in supposing me to have objections, and right again in supposing my objections to be treasonable, the law would let you cut my head off. "
Norfolk: "Why can't you do as I did and come join us for fellowship?"
More: "And when we die and you are sent to heaven for doing your conscience and I am sent to hell for not doing mine, will you come with me for fellowship?"
More: "Some men think the earth is round. Others think it flat. It is a matter capable of question. But if it is flat, will the King's command make it round? And if it is round will the King's command flatten it? No, I will not sign."
Cromwell: "Oh, Justice is what you're threatened with!"
More: "Then I am not threatened."
Roper: "This is a hellish place!"
More: "Except it's keeping me from you my dears, it's not so bad."
Meg: "Then say the words of the oath and in your heart think otherwise!"
More: "What is an oath, then, but words we say to God? [Silence] Listen, Meg! When a man takes an oath, he's holding his own self in his own hands, like water. And if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again. Some men aren't capable of this, but I'd be loath to think your father one of them."
More: "That's very neat, but look now. If we lived in a state where virtue was profitable, common sense would make us saintly. But since we see that avarice, anger, pride, and stupidity commonly profit far beyond charity, modesty, justice, and thought, perhaps we must stand fast a little, even at the risk of being heroes."
Meg: "But in reason, haven't you done as much as God can reasonably want?"sobs
More: "Well, finally, it isn't a matter of reason. Finally, it's a matter of love."
More: "Death comes for us all, my lords. Yes, even for kings he comes."
Judge: "The death of kings is not in question, Sir Thomas."
More: "Nor mine, I trust, until I'm proven guilty."
Norfolk: "You life lies in your own hands, Thomas, as it always has!"
More: "Is that so, my lord? Then I'll keep a good grip on it."
Moore: "The world must construe according to its wits. This court must construe according to the Law."
Rich: "'Supposing there were an act of Parliament stating that I, Richard Rich, were to be King. Would not you, Master More, take me for King?'
'That I would' he said. 'For then you would be King.'...Then he said, 'But I will put you a higher case. How if there were an act of Parliament to say that God should not be God?" continues from truth into perjury
More: "Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world. But for Wales?"
More: "My Lords, when I was practicing Law the custom was to ask the prisoner, before pronouncing sentence, if he had anything to say."
More: "I do none harm. I say none harm. I think none harm. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive, then, in good faith I long not to live. "
More: "I am commanded by the king to be brief. And since I am the King's obedient subject, brief I will be: I die His Majesty's good servant, but God's first."
More to executioner: "Be not afraid of your office. You send me to God."
Archbishop: "You are very sure of that, Sir Thomas?"
More: "He will not refuse one who is so blythe to go to Him." kneels, signs himself with the Cross, lays his neck on the block.
This story of Thomas More as I first saw it in the movie starring Paul Scofield and later as I read it in the play by Robert Bolts has always captivated me. If I were to name the three movies which had the greatest influence on my childhood character formation, this would rank. Thomas More is not only morally upright and scrupulous, but a caring husband and father, and sincere friend. In addition, he has gained that happy discipline of a truthful and guarded tongue taught by a shrewd, cautious, insightful intellect guided by earnest faith. From the moment the movie opens to the drop of the axe, we have an image of a man unwilling to relinquish his convictions, who loves truth more than life, and hides that life in law and justice which ultimately is denied him.
Wolsey: "You're a fool"
More: "Thank God there is only one fool on the council."
Wolsey: "Thomas, we're alone. I give you my word; there's no one here."
More: "I didn't suppose there was, your Grace."
Meg: "Will wants to marry me, Father."
More: "Well, he can't marry you."
More: "There's nothing wrong with your family, Will. There's not much wrong with you. Except you seem to need a clock."
Roper: "I can buy a clock, Sir."
More: "Roper, the answer is "No" and will be "No" as long as you're a heretic."
Roper: "Now that's a word I don't like, Sir Thomas!"
More: "It's not a likeable word, it's not a likeable thing."
Roper: "The church is heretical! Dr. Luther's proved that to my satisfaction!"
More: "Luther is an excomunicate."
Roper: "From a heretic church! Church! It's a shop! Salvation by the shilling, and divorces..."
Meg: "Will!"
Roper: "What I know, I'll say."
Meg: "You've no sense of the place!"
More: yawning "He's no sense of the time. Now listen, Will. Two years ago, you were a passionate churchman. Now you're a passionate Lutheran. We must just pray that when you're head's finished turning, your face is to the front again....... Go along."
Roper: "May I come again?" More gestures to Meg
Meg: "Yes. Soon."
More: "That you should put away Queen Catherine, Sire? Oh, alas, as I think of it I see so clearly that I can not come with your Grace that my endeavor is not to think of it at all."
Henry shouting: "THEN YOU HAVEN'T THOUGHT ENOUGH!"
Henry: "How is it that you cannot see. Everyone else does!"
More: "Then why does your Grace need my poor support?"
About the King's musical composition
More: "I thought it seemed... delightful."
Henry: "Thomas, I chose the right man for Chancellor!"
More: "I must in fairness add that my taste in music is reputedly deplorable."
Henry: "Your taste in music is excellent and exactly coincides with my own!"
Alice: "Arrest him!"
More: "For what?"
Alice: "He's dangerous!"
Roper: "He's a spy!"
Meg: "Father, that man's bad!"
More: "There's no law against that."
Roper: "There is God's law."
More: "Then God can arrest him."
Alice: "While you talk he's gone!"
More: "And go he should if he were the Devil himself until he broke the law!"
Roper: "So, now you'd give the Devil benefit of law!"
More: "Yes, what would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the devil?"
Roper: "Yes! I'd cut down every law in England to do that!"
More: "Oh. rises And when the last law was down and the devil turned round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, coast to coast - Man's laws, not God's - and if you cut them down, and you're just the man to do it, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes! I'd give the Devil benefit of law for my own safety's sake!"
Norfolk: "Cromwell! Are you threatening me!"
Cromwell quoting Norfolk's private conversation with More: "My dear Norfolk! This isn't Spain! This is England!"
More: "I understand there are certain charges."
Cromwell: "Oh, some ambiguities of behavior I should like to clarify, hardly charges."
More: "Make a note of that, will you, Master Rich? There are no charges."
More: "Yes, I wrote a letter advising her not to meddle in the affairs of state - also witnessed."
Cromwell: "You have been cautious."
More: "I like to keep my affairs regular."
Cromwell: "Thank you! You come to the point very readily. What is that authority[of Rome]..?"
More: "You will find it very ablely set out and defended, Master Secretary, in the King's book."
More: The King knows the truth of it. And whatever he may have said to you, he will not give evidence to support this accusation."
Cromwell: "Why not?"
More: "Because evidence is given on oath, and he will not perjure himself. If you don't know that, then you don't yet know him."
More: "No my lord, you don't [know that]. You may suppose I have objections. All you know is that I will not swear to it for which you cannot lawfully harm me further.
But if you were right in supposing me to have objections, and right again in supposing my objections to be treasonable, the law would let you cut my head off. "
Norfolk: "Why can't you do as I did and come join us for fellowship?"
More: "And when we die and you are sent to heaven for doing your conscience and I am sent to hell for not doing mine, will you come with me for fellowship?"
More: "Some men think the earth is round. Others think it flat. It is a matter capable of question. But if it is flat, will the King's command make it round? And if it is round will the King's command flatten it? No, I will not sign."
Cromwell: "Oh, Justice is what you're threatened with!"
More: "Then I am not threatened."
Roper: "This is a hellish place!"
More: "Except it's keeping me from you my dears, it's not so bad."
Meg: "Then say the words of the oath and in your heart think otherwise!"
More: "What is an oath, then, but words we say to God? [Silence] Listen, Meg! When a man takes an oath, he's holding his own self in his own hands, like water. And if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again. Some men aren't capable of this, but I'd be loath to think your father one of them."
More: "That's very neat, but look now. If we lived in a state where virtue was profitable, common sense would make us saintly. But since we see that avarice, anger, pride, and stupidity commonly profit far beyond charity, modesty, justice, and thought, perhaps we must stand fast a little, even at the risk of being heroes."
Meg: "But in reason, haven't you done as much as God can reasonably want?"sobs
More: "Well, finally, it isn't a matter of reason. Finally, it's a matter of love."
More: "Death comes for us all, my lords. Yes, even for kings he comes."
Judge: "The death of kings is not in question, Sir Thomas."
More: "Nor mine, I trust, until I'm proven guilty."
Norfolk: "You life lies in your own hands, Thomas, as it always has!"
More: "Is that so, my lord? Then I'll keep a good grip on it."
Moore: "The world must construe according to its wits. This court must construe according to the Law."
Rich: "'Supposing there were an act of Parliament stating that I, Richard Rich, were to be King. Would not you, Master More, take me for King?'
'That I would' he said. 'For then you would be King.'...Then he said, 'But I will put you a higher case. How if there were an act of Parliament to say that God should not be God?" continues from truth into perjury
More: "Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world. But for Wales?"
More: "My Lords, when I was practicing Law the custom was to ask the prisoner, before pronouncing sentence, if he had anything to say."
More: "I do none harm. I say none harm. I think none harm. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive, then, in good faith I long not to live. "
More: "I am commanded by the king to be brief. And since I am the King's obedient subject, brief I will be: I die His Majesty's good servant, but God's first."
More to executioner: "Be not afraid of your office. You send me to God."
Archbishop: "You are very sure of that, Sir Thomas?"
More: "He will not refuse one who is so blythe to go to Him." kneels, signs himself with the Cross, lays his neck on the block.
A Death Like This
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=5DpkNX2GxRw&NR=1
I want to die like this. Not in this manner, but with this confidence.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=WMqReTJkjjg
And I this is why I am so rule-oriented. I know that I may seem very picky and obsessed with doing everything right and properly, but here's the reason.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=cVsotWHtaks&NR=1 (first half)
And I for one think a Lutheran suitor like this quite appropriate.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=4ocBx-0Rku4&feature=related
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ccD8zAxXiJc&feature=related
I wish I could be so calm under pressure and quick on my feet...
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=VG7B_45Tjy0&feature=related
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=TZuc_fdMe64
...and so firm in my resolution
And I wish I had the movie here so that I could watch the whole thing!
I want to die like this. Not in this manner, but with this confidence.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=WMqReTJkjjg
And I this is why I am so rule-oriented. I know that I may seem very picky and obsessed with doing everything right and properly, but here's the reason.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=cVsotWHtaks&NR=1 (first half)
And I for one think a Lutheran suitor like this quite appropriate.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=4ocBx-0Rku4&feature=related
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ccD8zAxXiJc&feature=related
I wish I could be so calm under pressure and quick on my feet...
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=VG7B_45Tjy0&feature=related
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=TZuc_fdMe64
...and so firm in my resolution
And I wish I had the movie here so that I could watch the whole thing!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
ACHE
I hurt.
But it is a funny sort of hurt.
Always before, when I have had a workout, my whole body (or at least complementary muscles on both sides) have ached almost equally badly.
Not now.
Last night, my friend and I went to the first class of beginner's Fencing. It was really wonderful.
This morning I was surprised that I didn't ache at all and I expressed such to my friend who didn't either.
But as the day wore on, there crept an ache from neck downwards and stiffened to make walking, sitting, and rising rather painful.
I wouldn't even bother to blog about pain were it not that this pain is so unusual. For you see, it affects the right half of my body alone: the left suffers no ache. I hope this is not a portent of things to come.
It's really quite uncomfortable to hurt so terribly on only one side. It makes for an interesting climb up and down stairs.
But it is a funny sort of hurt.
Always before, when I have had a workout, my whole body (or at least complementary muscles on both sides) have ached almost equally badly.
Not now.
Last night, my friend and I went to the first class of beginner's Fencing. It was really wonderful.
This morning I was surprised that I didn't ache at all and I expressed such to my friend who didn't either.
But as the day wore on, there crept an ache from neck downwards and stiffened to make walking, sitting, and rising rather painful.
I wouldn't even bother to blog about pain were it not that this pain is so unusual. For you see, it affects the right half of my body alone: the left suffers no ache. I hope this is not a portent of things to come.
It's really quite uncomfortable to hurt so terribly on only one side. It makes for an interesting climb up and down stairs.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Augustine or Wolfgang?
My art professor said this was St. Wolfgang Assisted by a Devil by Michael Pacher, from the St. Wolfgang altarpiece.
But Wikipedia says that it is St. Augustine rather than St. Wolfgang. I'm not sure. I do love the Saint's stern expression, though.
Credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Michael_Pacher_004.jpg
and thanks to those who helped me find it.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Creativity or Luck?
Creativity = a fifteen minute walk with milk, peanut butter, jelly, oatmeal, yougurt, tea, cabbage, hamburger, syrup, and a dozen eggs in one's backpack at the end of which the milk is not spilt and the eggs are not broken.
(Or maybe it was just a coincidence that the eggs didn't crack)
Note to self: Cabbages are heavy!
(Or maybe it was just a coincidence that the eggs didn't crack)
Note to self: Cabbages are heavy!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Learning From Mistakes
Today has been a very educational day. And it's only half over! Imagine...
Allow me to share my new-found wisdom:
1. Never willingly sleep through your alarm if it is a Sunday morning and you have a long walk to church. You will eventually come to in a state of frantic panic in which you must dress, wash-up, eat, wrap in outdoor's garb and rush into the snow.
2. Don't assume that just because the big church door won't open when you tug on it that it is locked. Maybe you just have to jerk it really hard.
3. Never let the concerned nice seniors looking to "mother" you (or "father" you as the case may be) know that you have walked in the snow for thirty-five minutes if you have the least bit of desire to walk home. They won't let you and you'll have a spontaneous network set up to give you rides. Never mind that you need exercise - It's cold!
4. Never, ever sit close to the front of the sanctuary when you have never witnessed communion practice at that particular church before. Somehow, you will end up in the front of the line and will look stupid not knowing what to do. (In the same vein, decide beforehand how you are going to receive the elements, because if you put out your hand and open your mouth at the same time, um, more people than you will be confused. :P)
5. Don't let anyone know that you like to read if you don't want to be dragged to the library and encouraged to take out a book. And especially don't let anyone know that you enjoyed Pontius Pilate by Paul Meier if you don't want them to dig up other novels by the author for you to read.
6. Don't be caught between a half-deaf, ancient "Grandmother" (as they all call her) who wants to tell you about her life and the elderly gentleman who insists on taking you over to show you how to get hot chocolate and muffins. You just can't listen and talk to both at the same time.
7. Don't assume you know what to do with a Communion Card or that the Guest Book will be at the back of the church.
8. Wait a few moments before drinking your hot chocolate otherwise, you will have no skin left on the roof of your mouth.
9. But don't wait too long, or the nice gentleman will think you do not want it and will offer to go dump it out for you.
10. When two elderly gentlemen both take it upon themselves to find you a ride home, be sure to communicate clearly that you already have a ride to at least one of them, since you cannot ride home in two vehicles.
Allow me to share my new-found wisdom:
1. Never willingly sleep through your alarm if it is a Sunday morning and you have a long walk to church. You will eventually come to in a state of frantic panic in which you must dress, wash-up, eat, wrap in outdoor's garb and rush into the snow.
2. Don't assume that just because the big church door won't open when you tug on it that it is locked. Maybe you just have to jerk it really hard.
3. Never let the concerned nice seniors looking to "mother" you (or "father" you as the case may be) know that you have walked in the snow for thirty-five minutes if you have the least bit of desire to walk home. They won't let you and you'll have a spontaneous network set up to give you rides. Never mind that you need exercise - It's cold!
4. Never, ever sit close to the front of the sanctuary when you have never witnessed communion practice at that particular church before. Somehow, you will end up in the front of the line and will look stupid not knowing what to do. (In the same vein, decide beforehand how you are going to receive the elements, because if you put out your hand and open your mouth at the same time, um, more people than you will be confused. :P)
5. Don't let anyone know that you like to read if you don't want to be dragged to the library and encouraged to take out a book. And especially don't let anyone know that you enjoyed Pontius Pilate by Paul Meier if you don't want them to dig up other novels by the author for you to read.
6. Don't be caught between a half-deaf, ancient "Grandmother" (as they all call her) who wants to tell you about her life and the elderly gentleman who insists on taking you over to show you how to get hot chocolate and muffins. You just can't listen and talk to both at the same time.
7. Don't assume you know what to do with a Communion Card or that the Guest Book will be at the back of the church.
8. Wait a few moments before drinking your hot chocolate otherwise, you will have no skin left on the roof of your mouth.
9. But don't wait too long, or the nice gentleman will think you do not want it and will offer to go dump it out for you.
10. When two elderly gentlemen both take it upon themselves to find you a ride home, be sure to communicate clearly that you already have a ride to at least one of them, since you cannot ride home in two vehicles.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The Masked Man: A Poetic Draft
The Masked Man
There stands between each one of us,
At least, or so it seems,
A barrier, an armor strong,
To hide our hopes and dreams.
In steel or stone doth not consist,
Nor wooden shield nor clay,
Yet still it watches flesh and bone
Just as a sentry may.
This sentry-mask the will doth weave,
And skillfully apply,
As guard to bar the castle-keep
From each intruder eye.
When wrapped in this concealing cloak,
So natural appears,
That stranger ever fails to mark,
That shield at all he wears.
His form it molds and gracefully,
Though may at times stiff seem;
Yet oft it wearying will grow,
As shouldering a beam.
At length when all have left his side,
Relieved, he then will sigh.
The sentry-mask doth melt away
Then from his heart will cry.
Nay! Weeping is not all restrained,
By filmy guardian stout.
A tender smile, a hearty laugh
As easily could spring out.
A strong embrace, a heartening touch,
A word to lift the heart;
If but this gold doth lie in hold,
What need for sentry part?
What need? What need? The panicked Will
Puts hand, it seems, to sword.
Thrice vigilence sets 'fore the door:
Now dare to touch the hoard!
Why? What is there that cuts you so,
To 'vision your keep disclosed?
Would you display this rigid mask,
Instead of joys and woes?
This sturdy shield is fair enough,
But, Sir, it isn't you!
Do open up your golden store,
If only to a few.
Tis true not all you hide is fair,
For human yet you are.
But locked away 'twill sure decay,
In light is wrought repair.
This skulking cloak doth reek of fear,
Of what are you afraid?
It's loneliness your mask invites,
For solitude 'tis made.
The Will doth flinch: "Good Sir, tis true.
The solitude is hard.
But of unguarded treasure store,
Dare I now be the bard?
"A gift ill-used doth break the heart,
Of giver - there's the pain!
A cheer sincere when hearts are sore,
To them doth cause the same.
"What shall they think if open I,
My keep and deepest thought?
I'm then in danger of assault,
and vuln'rable be caught!
"Tis better keep my doors well barred,
The safe facade retain:
My body, words, my diplomats,
Who must not me betray."
Ah! Fearful Will, I pity Thee!
Wherefore dost lie in terror?
Look there -beyond your desperate try
To fortify in error.
See there is one who opened wide,
The keep of his own treasure.
His heart he gave, his words he sent:
To mock it was their pleasure.
Still in his love he did not hide,
Himself from hate and hurt.
The host swept in, his walls they razed;
His ravaged keep they burnt.
Yet from the wreck and flames engulfed,
He rose and raised again,
The towers and the turrets high;
His hold was filled again.
And from that treasure-keep doth give,
Full pardon for all lives,
And healing and security,
For those of these deprived.
His gates are never shut to us,
No distant mask he wears.
He ever doth speak his hearts-truth;
For man, sincerely cares.
None can his territory rob,
Nor land in conquest take.
His vassals fear no fire or sword,
No scarcity them shake.
For as they open wide their halls,
And spread abroad their wealth,
What has been lost, he fills again:
They need no mask or stealth.
Good Sir, you need no clinging mask;
Who shall your hurt employ?
Disclose the hidden face of yours,
That it may give us joy.
Your imperfections do but show,
The kindness of our Liege,
Who works through them and mends them all:
For that we would not grieve.
True, candor from your lips may wound,
But he who heals is nigh.
We're better off for tears he quench,
Than if our eyes were dry.
Mask, crack and no more crush the soul!
Oh sentry, now do flee!
I need you now no more because,
Another guardeth me.
There stands between each one of us,
At least, or so it seems,
A barrier, an armor strong,
To hide our hopes and dreams.
In steel or stone doth not consist,
Nor wooden shield nor clay,
Yet still it watches flesh and bone
Just as a sentry may.
This sentry-mask the will doth weave,
And skillfully apply,
As guard to bar the castle-keep
From each intruder eye.
When wrapped in this concealing cloak,
So natural appears,
That stranger ever fails to mark,
That shield at all he wears.
His form it molds and gracefully,
Though may at times stiff seem;
Yet oft it wearying will grow,
As shouldering a beam.
At length when all have left his side,
Relieved, he then will sigh.
The sentry-mask doth melt away
Then from his heart will cry.
Nay! Weeping is not all restrained,
By filmy guardian stout.
A tender smile, a hearty laugh
As easily could spring out.
A strong embrace, a heartening touch,
A word to lift the heart;
If but this gold doth lie in hold,
What need for sentry part?
What need? What need? The panicked Will
Puts hand, it seems, to sword.
Thrice vigilence sets 'fore the door:
Now dare to touch the hoard!
Why? What is there that cuts you so,
To 'vision your keep disclosed?
Would you display this rigid mask,
Instead of joys and woes?
This sturdy shield is fair enough,
But, Sir, it isn't you!
Do open up your golden store,
If only to a few.
Tis true not all you hide is fair,
For human yet you are.
But locked away 'twill sure decay,
In light is wrought repair.
This skulking cloak doth reek of fear,
Of what are you afraid?
It's loneliness your mask invites,
For solitude 'tis made.
The Will doth flinch: "Good Sir, tis true.
The solitude is hard.
But of unguarded treasure store,
Dare I now be the bard?
"A gift ill-used doth break the heart,
Of giver - there's the pain!
A cheer sincere when hearts are sore,
To them doth cause the same.
"What shall they think if open I,
My keep and deepest thought?
I'm then in danger of assault,
and vuln'rable be caught!
"Tis better keep my doors well barred,
The safe facade retain:
My body, words, my diplomats,
Who must not me betray."
Ah! Fearful Will, I pity Thee!
Wherefore dost lie in terror?
Look there -beyond your desperate try
To fortify in error.
See there is one who opened wide,
The keep of his own treasure.
His heart he gave, his words he sent:
To mock it was their pleasure.
Still in his love he did not hide,
Himself from hate and hurt.
The host swept in, his walls they razed;
His ravaged keep they burnt.
Yet from the wreck and flames engulfed,
He rose and raised again,
The towers and the turrets high;
His hold was filled again.
And from that treasure-keep doth give,
Full pardon for all lives,
And healing and security,
For those of these deprived.
His gates are never shut to us,
No distant mask he wears.
He ever doth speak his hearts-truth;
For man, sincerely cares.
None can his territory rob,
Nor land in conquest take.
His vassals fear no fire or sword,
No scarcity them shake.
For as they open wide their halls,
And spread abroad their wealth,
What has been lost, he fills again:
They need no mask or stealth.
Good Sir, you need no clinging mask;
Who shall your hurt employ?
Disclose the hidden face of yours,
That it may give us joy.
Your imperfections do but show,
The kindness of our Liege,
Who works through them and mends them all:
For that we would not grieve.
True, candor from your lips may wound,
But he who heals is nigh.
We're better off for tears he quench,
Than if our eyes were dry.
Mask, crack and no more crush the soul!
Oh sentry, now do flee!
I need you now no more because,
Another guardeth me.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Violating my Principles
Alas! I am breaking an unspoken contract. I was determined not to "sully" my blog with youtube, not that youtube would have a great effect on the quality of the blog. I guess I just didn't want it to be cluttered with other people's works. I wanted this to be a place for original stuff.
But I've already put other unoriginal works up, like poetry. So I might as well post this. I'd like to put the video on, but I don't have real-player which my sister tells me is necessary for such things. I can't resist, so here is the link: The Dragon
Ok, so maybe it's not worth getting worked up over. But I like the song even better with the pictures. If you choose to listen to it you absolutely MUST NOT listen to it without watching it!! The pictures are part of the reason I put it up. Some one very obviously put a lot of effort into finding these images and making them match the lyrics. I especially love the last two images before the lyrics end. They're awesome!
Just so no one is completely caught by surprise, this is a Michael Card song from his album treating the book of Revelation. As always, some of his songs I like very much, and others not at all. This is one of the liked ones. If you remember the dragon part of Revelation, you'll probably appreciate this. At any rate, here 'tis. This is a pretty lame post, so I hope that those of you who take the time to follow the link will enjoy it more than this.
But I've already put other unoriginal works up, like poetry. So I might as well post this. I'd like to put the video on, but I don't have real-player which my sister tells me is necessary for such things. I can't resist, so here is the link: The Dragon
Ok, so maybe it's not worth getting worked up over. But I like the song even better with the pictures. If you choose to listen to it you absolutely MUST NOT listen to it without watching it!! The pictures are part of the reason I put it up. Some one very obviously put a lot of effort into finding these images and making them match the lyrics. I especially love the last two images before the lyrics end. They're awesome!
Just so no one is completely caught by surprise, this is a Michael Card song from his album treating the book of Revelation. As always, some of his songs I like very much, and others not at all. This is one of the liked ones. If you remember the dragon part of Revelation, you'll probably appreciate this. At any rate, here 'tis. This is a pretty lame post, so I hope that those of you who take the time to follow the link will enjoy it more than this.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Pity, Pity the Guys, Plus St. Augustine, Plus Beavertails
How would you like to live in the world's coldest capital and have your radiator explode in the night and your drains freeze?
Apparently, this is what happened to our boys last night. They came in to the main building, late, cold and a little grumpy. I hope they thawed sufficiently. :D
We had a three and 1/2 hour lecture/discussion in Philosophy today over St. Augustine's On Grace and Free Will. It was very interesting, but stretched my lazy mind.
After homework, one of the girls took me skating on the Canal and we bought and ate Beavertails. Think of a whole grain sort of non greasy, thick, narrow elephant ear covered in thick glaze (in my case, maple). Delicious, but potentially fattening.
Apparently, this is what happened to our boys last night. They came in to the main building, late, cold and a little grumpy. I hope they thawed sufficiently. :D
We had a three and 1/2 hour lecture/discussion in Philosophy today over St. Augustine's On Grace and Free Will. It was very interesting, but stretched my lazy mind.
After homework, one of the girls took me skating on the Canal and we bought and ate Beavertails. Think of a whole grain sort of non greasy, thick, narrow elephant ear covered in thick glaze (in my case, maple). Delicious, but potentially fattening.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
First Resolution of the New Year
As I am notoriously inept at making and keeping New Year's resolutions, I've conived with myself and come up with a rather appealing variation of the same. Rather than various resolutions on a whim upon the New Year's Day (which, ahem, has already passed) I conceived of making a variety of resolutions to go into effect for the continuation of the New Year as of the day in which I make them.
So, now for the First Resolution of the New Year:
I, Eowyn Shieldmaiden (a.k.a. Dernhelm, etc) do hereby purpose, resolve, and determine, with due consideration, taking into account both the needs of my body and the demands of my study and fellowship, to obtain at least seven hours of sleep within every period of twenty-four hours commonly called one day, except in cases of dire need wherein to relinquish such relaxation and revitalization remains the only means of diverting certain catastrophe of academic or personal concerns, during the remainder of the Year of our Lord 2009.
With all due reverence to the Divine Power which determines such matters and due respect to the Weakness of Flesh which exerts it's will upon them also.
So, now for the First Resolution of the New Year:
I, Eowyn Shieldmaiden (a.k.a. Dernhelm, etc) do hereby purpose, resolve, and determine, with due consideration, taking into account both the needs of my body and the demands of my study and fellowship, to obtain at least seven hours of sleep within every period of twenty-four hours commonly called one day, except in cases of dire need wherein to relinquish such relaxation and revitalization remains the only means of diverting certain catastrophe of academic or personal concerns, during the remainder of the Year of our Lord 2009.
With all due reverence to the Divine Power which determines such matters and due respect to the Weakness of Flesh which exerts it's will upon them also.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Philosophy Lying on the Ice: or a Post of No Consequence
Dusk deepens into night. Birds twitter softly in the quietly swaying trees which crack and shiver as the chill air grows icy. Along the wild horizon pale purple becomes blue blending to deep navy. A solitary planet lights the sky. In the deepening dark backdrop a few pin-points of light peep into visibility as though shy of intruding themselves on the inhabitants of the world; perhaps fearful of breaking their slumber, or maybe wary of the sun's rays, willing only to venture abroad when his head is hidden. In a few moments, the constellations will grow distinguishable. Three hazy specks: Orion uncloaks himself. An emerging blur of distant lights: Pleiades enters in full sisterhood. Though hidden by dense pines, the Dippers ladle up the night from within the strong arms of the Bears, Great and Small. At last, the darkness reaches a full contrast so that the arm of the Milky Way is revealed: A massive starry swath draped in folds across the immense expanse of infinity.
As if gaining confidence, each star shines more brightly in the gathered night and illumines the two mortal figures lying motionless upon the snow beneath them.They lie flat upon their backs, arms beneath and cradling their heads, gazing at the lights in the darkness and at the forlorn trees stripped of their leaves now covered and softened by the gloaming, heedless of the plummeting temperature or the melting snow seeping through their coats. Now they remain in silence, now in speech, muted and hushed as suggests the setting. An owl hoots quite near and they startle but snuggle down into the icy bed again, unwilling to break the moment.
Philosophers, they solve the great questions of the world in the light of the stars with solutions all their own. After a silence, one breaks forth, pondering;
"Why do we fear? Why?"
The other turns the matter over for a moment, considering it's angles and complexities. The prompt reply;
"Because the electric fence would hurt really bad."
It is too much to take in. Laughter rudely interrupts the quietude and ceases again. But even a bed of ice becomes burdensome after a while, no matter how pleasantly situated, and the philosophers drew themselves off and left the heavenly lights to blaze undisturbed.
As if gaining confidence, each star shines more brightly in the gathered night and illumines the two mortal figures lying motionless upon the snow beneath them.They lie flat upon their backs, arms beneath and cradling their heads, gazing at the lights in the darkness and at the forlorn trees stripped of their leaves now covered and softened by the gloaming, heedless of the plummeting temperature or the melting snow seeping through their coats. Now they remain in silence, now in speech, muted and hushed as suggests the setting. An owl hoots quite near and they startle but snuggle down into the icy bed again, unwilling to break the moment.
Philosophers, they solve the great questions of the world in the light of the stars with solutions all their own. After a silence, one breaks forth, pondering;
"Why do we fear? Why?"
The other turns the matter over for a moment, considering it's angles and complexities. The prompt reply;
"Because the electric fence would hurt really bad."
It is too much to take in. Laughter rudely interrupts the quietude and ceases again. But even a bed of ice becomes burdensome after a while, no matter how pleasantly situated, and the philosophers drew themselves off and left the heavenly lights to blaze undisturbed.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sing a Song of Sixpence
Actually, the title has nothing to do with the post. Well, almost nothing. :D
I hesitate to blog anything which relates to plans because if I do, the plans will most definitely change! Have you ever played Pin the Tail on the Donkey? Remember how they tied the blindfold around your eyes, then spun you around until you were disoriented, then pointed you in a direction completely different from your target? You swayed from side to side, trying to catch your balance. Arms out in front of you, you took one small tentative step forward, hoping to feel a bit of wall in front of you. Behind you, someone giggled. Someone cheered, "keep going! You're almost there!" Encouraged, you moved forward, reaching eagerly. Then you heard another whisper. "She's going in the wrong direction. She's going to walk into the other wall." Instantly, you halt, uncertain where to go next. From all around you advice inundates your ears:
"Right!"
"Turn left!"
"Straight forward - you've almost got it!"
"They're lying - turn around."
"No, no. Let her figure it out by herself!"
"Be quiet. We're helping her."
"No, you're not!"
You are unsure of everything but one fact: you are making a humongous fool of yourself and everybody is watching you do it.
Remember wearing the same blindfold a few minutes later as you swung a club in frustration at the pinata just beyond your reach. You knew it was there - within feet of your stick - but somehow you couldn't make contact with the silly wad of papermache! Newspaper and goo! The desire to smack that, that thing, surged through you as the frustration mounted. You searched the unvisible air for the pinata. Finally, the tip of bat encountered something hard and hollow. Winding up for your hardest stroke, your arms sliced through the air with all the force you could muster. But something was wrong. Where did it go? No! It was there, it was! Next instant you hear and feel a thud, and your dad yelps. Sorry. You turn and make another go at it, longing to the the crack of hardened newspaper splitting asunder, doubting whether you ever will. If only you could see!
Both of these scenarios have one very beneficial aspect in common: they're both games, playthings, diversions. You can end them whenever you want. How each turns out may affect a day, a week, perhaps even a month if your dad teases you about the bruise, but ultimately do not have a significant impact on the course of your life. There are more important things to living, and there will be more games.
I feel as though I am blindfolded with bat or tail between my fingers ... only to find that this is not a game.
I've been blindfolded and spun. Streams of instructions overwhelm my ears. I've pinned the donkey's tail to the ears instead of to the rump and now it's got to stick there. I've got a couple more tails, but they're a lot smaller. Someone gave me a club to swing, but I'm not sure where that blob of papermache got to. Canada? Michigan? I'm itching to smack it, but I've got to find it first.
And it's not a game. My future swings with the bat and sticks with the tail. Ouch!
I am, of course, speaking of college(s). What I look at is cost-effective nutrient-density. Most institutions charge a pretty sixpence. And it appears that pence of any amount are becoming more and more difficult to come by.
One thing for certain: I'm not going back to Hope. Dad's authority there. And there's no point: the Greek is gone, Nursing I can take here for less.
We've got some interesting developments on the horizon. Basically, two main tracks. I can go to Hillsdale for four years and come out at the end in debt with a degree in something really interesting that basically only equips me for grad school. Or I can go back to community college for two years to finish an RN and add another year at a co-operating school to achieve a BSN. Just two years to a well-paying job that is pretty secure even in economic decline. Three years to a bachelor's which would allow me to go to enter CTSFW's Deaconess Program, if God so wills.
I'm torn. Enter $. Quality four-year liberal arts colleges are expensive: that's just the way it is. Community colleges are much less. Hmmmm.
If Hillsdale now, I'll be out of sequence for freshman classes. If back to community college, I can't enter the Nursing program till fall. Either way, it can't hurt to postpone the final decision which will determine the course of the next three years till summer. (Or can it?)
But what about this coming semester? I don't want to do nothing. I need to be engaged in useful learning. For this, I have the same two institutions as options, plus a third. I may be headed to Canada.
Time is running out as I wait for pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. Yet, I'm excited too. Ok, so I'm a little scared as well. Mostly I'm just tired of uncertainty. Ah, well, this is life under the cross. At least we know that Christ is certain and will continue to be.
Merry Christmas everyone!
I hesitate to blog anything which relates to plans because if I do, the plans will most definitely change! Have you ever played Pin the Tail on the Donkey? Remember how they tied the blindfold around your eyes, then spun you around until you were disoriented, then pointed you in a direction completely different from your target? You swayed from side to side, trying to catch your balance. Arms out in front of you, you took one small tentative step forward, hoping to feel a bit of wall in front of you. Behind you, someone giggled. Someone cheered, "keep going! You're almost there!" Encouraged, you moved forward, reaching eagerly. Then you heard another whisper. "She's going in the wrong direction. She's going to walk into the other wall." Instantly, you halt, uncertain where to go next. From all around you advice inundates your ears:
"Right!"
"Turn left!"
"Straight forward - you've almost got it!"
"They're lying - turn around."
"No, no. Let her figure it out by herself!"
"Be quiet. We're helping her."
"No, you're not!"
You are unsure of everything but one fact: you are making a humongous fool of yourself and everybody is watching you do it.
Remember wearing the same blindfold a few minutes later as you swung a club in frustration at the pinata just beyond your reach. You knew it was there - within feet of your stick - but somehow you couldn't make contact with the silly wad of papermache! Newspaper and goo! The desire to smack that, that thing, surged through you as the frustration mounted. You searched the unvisible air for the pinata. Finally, the tip of bat encountered something hard and hollow. Winding up for your hardest stroke, your arms sliced through the air with all the force you could muster. But something was wrong. Where did it go? No! It was there, it was! Next instant you hear and feel a thud, and your dad yelps. Sorry. You turn and make another go at it, longing to the the crack of hardened newspaper splitting asunder, doubting whether you ever will. If only you could see!
Both of these scenarios have one very beneficial aspect in common: they're both games, playthings, diversions. You can end them whenever you want. How each turns out may affect a day, a week, perhaps even a month if your dad teases you about the bruise, but ultimately do not have a significant impact on the course of your life. There are more important things to living, and there will be more games.
I feel as though I am blindfolded with bat or tail between my fingers ... only to find that this is not a game.
I've been blindfolded and spun. Streams of instructions overwhelm my ears. I've pinned the donkey's tail to the ears instead of to the rump and now it's got to stick there. I've got a couple more tails, but they're a lot smaller. Someone gave me a club to swing, but I'm not sure where that blob of papermache got to. Canada? Michigan? I'm itching to smack it, but I've got to find it first.
And it's not a game. My future swings with the bat and sticks with the tail. Ouch!
I am, of course, speaking of college(s). What I look at is cost-effective nutrient-density. Most institutions charge a pretty sixpence. And it appears that pence of any amount are becoming more and more difficult to come by.
One thing for certain: I'm not going back to Hope. Dad's authority there. And there's no point: the Greek is gone, Nursing I can take here for less.
We've got some interesting developments on the horizon. Basically, two main tracks. I can go to Hillsdale for four years and come out at the end in debt with a degree in something really interesting that basically only equips me for grad school. Or I can go back to community college for two years to finish an RN and add another year at a co-operating school to achieve a BSN. Just two years to a well-paying job that is pretty secure even in economic decline. Three years to a bachelor's which would allow me to go to enter CTSFW's Deaconess Program, if God so wills.
I'm torn. Enter $. Quality four-year liberal arts colleges are expensive: that's just the way it is. Community colleges are much less. Hmmmm.
If Hillsdale now, I'll be out of sequence for freshman classes. If back to community college, I can't enter the Nursing program till fall. Either way, it can't hurt to postpone the final decision which will determine the course of the next three years till summer. (Or can it?)
But what about this coming semester? I don't want to do nothing. I need to be engaged in useful learning. For this, I have the same two institutions as options, plus a third. I may be headed to Canada.
Time is running out as I wait for pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. Yet, I'm excited too. Ok, so I'm a little scared as well. Mostly I'm just tired of uncertainty. Ah, well, this is life under the cross. At least we know that Christ is certain and will continue to be.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Allegory of the Crucifix
The first few weeks at Hope College, I wore the crucifix everywhere - even to work out. Then, one day, I took it off. And couldn't find it. A few days later, I found and donned it again. But something strange kept happening. The tiny ring holding the cross to its chain began weakening, bending and slipping from off the chain. I kept repairing it. One evening (sometime in October), as I was preparing to take it off for the night, I noticed that the cross and corpus were no longer on the chain. I examined the floor. I traced my steps throughout the room and the bathroom. It could have fallen anywhere, and I had traveled the length and breadth of the campus in that day. It pricked me deeply to have lost it, not because I attached my faith to a piece of metal around my neck, but because it reminded me of Whose I am and what I am called and enabled to confess. The next week, I would reach up to touch it, to feel the contour and remind myself, only to remember that it was gone - perhaps forever. The thought that perhaps the likeness of our Savior might be lying in the mud on some campus pathway, trampled by the profane feet of the masses, made me ache. But I soon forgot it. It fled my mind as well as my body.
The very last week at Hope, while cleaning up the floor by my desk, I found the crucifix again. It was hidden by various debris and papers from my studies, homework and essays. The sight cheered me, yet caused me a sober moment as well. Thankful to have it returned to my keeping, it occured to me to possibly consider the treatment afforded the crucifix allegorically. It is not hard for me to see a rough parallel between the circumstances of the crucifix and the circumstances of my subjective certainty in the promises of Christ while at Hope.
I look forward to wearing my crucifix again and, God-willing, not losing it either physically or allegorically.
The very last week at Hope, while cleaning up the floor by my desk, I found the crucifix again. It was hidden by various debris and papers from my studies, homework and essays. The sight cheered me, yet caused me a sober moment as well. Thankful to have it returned to my keeping, it occured to me to possibly consider the treatment afforded the crucifix allegorically. It is not hard for me to see a rough parallel between the circumstances of the crucifix and the circumstances of my subjective certainty in the promises of Christ while at Hope.
I look forward to wearing my crucifix again and, God-willing, not losing it either physically or allegorically.
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