« September 11, 2005 - September 17, 2005 | Main | September 25, 2005 - October 1, 2005 »
September 18, 2005
More on the Difficulty of Orthodoxy
I started this note as a response to Talmida's cogent comment below about how one should read and understand one verse of the decalogue--often translated "Thou shalt not kill." It was getting too lengthy, and it started to raise issues that I wanted to discuss in more detail anyway.
You raise a good point in your first point regarding the technical translation. This has, of course, been said many times and I don't necessarily disagree with it. However, in the judgment of what it is actually saying,the question arises as to what is "murder." We tend to view it in a very technical legal fashion--however, when the state unjustly takes the life of a man who committed no crime, has murder been committed? I think so--a great many do not. When a person has been killed in the course of killing enemy combattants has murder been committed? I think so--a great many do not.
The point isn't so much who is right in the debate, but rather the extended difficulties of orthodoxy. The meaning of every verse of the Bible is (thank heavens) not explicitly spelled out. As a result, much is left to us to formulate. I read "Thou shalt not murder" in a much broader way than some might. "Thou shalt not deprive the innocent of life" would more accurately reflect my understanding. Now, I cannot ask anyone else to accept my interpretation, but as I read the Catechism, this seems to be the understanding they come up with for this verse of the decalogue. Problem is, someone else can read the same source and come to a different conclusion. Three priests explaining what is meant by this will come up with three different conclusions. Which one reflects orthodoxy? Usually, I assume the one that is closest to what I already believe. And that's part of the problem with orthodoxy--there is a tendency to take the answer closest to what we already believe.
However, there is a plus to this. Even if we accept the answer closest to what we already think, by accepting the authority of a voice outside ourselves, we have already shifted our own viewpoint to some degree. By slow steps, one hopes one reaches orthodoxy without stumbling into rigidity.
And there is another stumbling block. Is it possible to be orthodox without being rigid? By that I do not mean that a person holding to orthodoxy should be willing at a moment's notice to jump ships. But does being orthodoxy carry with it a certain baggage that might be off-putting to people who are not so far down the line? I don't think it necessarily must--but I do think, unfortunately, it often does. I think of some of my experiences with some apologists for the faith whose whole demeanor and approach is so alienating that I wonder what they think they are about. They are impolite, impolitic, and inconsiderate. (This does not by any means apply to everyone in the field of apologetics, merely a subset who so thoroughly alienated me early on that (1) I nearly didn't become Catholic in the face of such arrogance; and (2) the whole term Apologetics carries with it certain very strongly negative overtones for me.) The people I speak of were extremely orthodox; indeed, orthodox to the point that they no longer knew how to speak to someone who was not in a way that honored the sincerity of the convictions that they held. Not every person who is in error is stupid or is consciously following an agenda against the faith.
I've wandered off-track here for a moment, but one of the problems of Orthodoxy is the amount of time and study it takes to be and remain orthodox, and the wide spectrum of conflicting opinions as to what consitutes orthodoxy. Who has the clear definition? Where does orthodoxy lie? Some tell me Karl Rahner is a perfectly orthodox theologian--others imply that anyone after Garrigou-Lagrange is suspect. I know nothing of theology--how do I decide? If my opinion is shaped by some neo-rahnerian effusion, how am I to know it?
The desire for believing as the Church believes is real, but fully understanding precisely what it is the Church believes is a much more difficult task than it might first seem. For example, see below some comments about biblical inerrancy and what is required for it to be true. Who is right in the matter?
And with this I come back to my favorite theme. Some people are not daunted by the prospects I have outlined here. They wade in and sort things out fairly capably. Often they don't so in any way that makes sense to me, and so I'm left on the short wondering who is winning this alligator wrestling match. Most of us don't have the time or the inclination to study every point of doctrine in all of its nuances. As a result we don't study much of any point of doctrine, or study those that most need to resolved for us to find a comfortable place to sit.
The reality is, the only comfortable place to sit is at the feet of Jesus. And sitting on the ground, in the dust is only comfortable so long as we are caught up in adoring love. The solace comes from Kierkegaard who, paraphrased out of context, said, "Those who are comfortable with Jesus do not know Him." So a comfortable Jesus isn't really something we will every find. Perhaps this whole struggle with orthodoxy is a series of points and barbs that move us steadily toward the God who loves us. I have concluded that the only way I'm going to find my way is through longing, lasting, lingering, love. My brain threatens to explode every time I open a book of serious theology, so instead, I open a book of poetry, a book of nature, a book of art, a book of revelation beyond the mere word, and for a moment I am immersed in the immensity that is God. It is there that I will find Him, with the guidance of scripture and the Church, not in the thousands (millions?) of tomes of theology that threaten me like the amplifiers that towered over Quay Lood.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:54 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
At Long Last--Another Ebook No One Cares About!
Finally an e-edition of the famous complementary volume to Dream of the Red Chamber. Like Red Chamber The Scholars is an 18th century novel in the realist tradition.
A sample from the very beginning:
from The Scholars
Wu Ching-tzu
The idea expressed in this poem is the commonplace one that in human life riches, rank, success and fame are external things. Men will risk their lives in the search for them; yet once they have them within their grasp, the taste is no better than chewed tallow. But from ancient times till now, how many have accepted this?However, at the end of the Yuan Dynasty 1 a really remarkable man was born. His name was Wang Mien, and he lived in a village in Chuchi County in Chekiang. When he was seven his father died, but his mother took in sewing so that he could study at the village school. Soon three years had passed and Wang Mien was ten. His mother called him to her and said, “Son, it's not that I want to stand in your way. But since your father died and left me a widow, I have had nothing coming in. Times are hard, and fuel and rice are expensive. Our old clothes and our few sticks of furniture have been pawned or sold. We have nothing to live on but what I make by my sewing. How can I pay for your schooling? There's nothing for it but to set you to work looking after our neighbour's buffalo. You'll be making a little money every month, and you'll get your meals there too. You start tomorrow.�
“Yes, mother,� said Wang Mien. “I find sitting in school boring anyway. I'd rather look after buffaloes. If I want to study, I can take a few books along to read.� So that very night the matter was decided.
The next morning his mother took him to the Chin family next door. Old Chin gave them some breakfast, and when they had finished he led out a water buffalo and made it over to Wang Mien.
“Two bow shots from my gate is the lake,� he said, pointing outside. “And by the lake is a belt of green where all the buffaloes of the village browse. There are a few dozen big willows there too, so that it is quiet, shady and cool; and if the buffalo is thirsty it can drink at the water's edge. You can play there, son; but don't wander off. I shall see that you get rice and vegetables twice a day; and each morning I shall give you a few coppers to buy a snack to eat while you're out. Only you must work well. I hope you'll find this satisfactory.�
Wang Mien's mother thanked Old Chin and turned to go home. Her son saw her to the gate, and there she straightened his clothes for him.
“Mind now, don't give them any reason to find fault with you,� she charged him. “Go out early and come back at dusk. I don't want to have to worry about you.�
Wang Mien nodded assent. Then, with tears in her eyes, she left him.
From this time onwards, Wang Mien looked after Old Chin's buffalo; and every evening he went home to sleep. Whenever the Chin family gave him salted fish or meat, he would wrap it up in a lotus leaf and take it to his mother. He also saved the coppers he was given each day to buy a snack with, and every month or so would seize an opportunity to go to the village school to buy some old books from the book-vendor making his rounds. Every day, when he had tethered the buffalo, he would sit down beneath the willows and read.
So three or four years quickly passed. Wang Mien studied and began to see things clearly. One sultry day in early summer, tired after leading the buffalo to graze, he sat down on the grass. Suddenly dense clouds gathered, and there was a heavy shower of rain. Then the black storm clouds fringed with fleecy white drifted apart, and the sun shone through, bathing the whole lake in crimson light. The hills by the lake were blue, violet and emerald. The trees, freshly washed by the rain, were a lovelier green than ever. Crystal drops were dripping from a dozen lotus buds in the lake, while beads of water rolled about the leaves.
As Wang Mien watched, he thought, “The ancients said, 'In a beautiful scene a man feels he is part of a picture.' How true! What a pity there is no painter here to paint these sprays of lotus. That would be good.� Then he reflected, “There's nothing a man can't learn. Why shouldn't I paint them myself?�
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Just What I Needed--Another Way to Get Books
Welcome to PaperBackSwap.com | Your source for swapping paperback books for FREE!
thanks to Steve at Speculative Catholic
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:47 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Keeping Your Library Up-to-Date
LibraryThing | Catalog your books online
I know I've mentioned this site/program before. I hadn't quite made the decision to buy-in, not because of expense, but merely because I didn't know if I would bother to keep it up. But, I'm nearly sold. The CSV import is so seamlessly beautiful and neat that I can catalogue with ease by ISBN or Amazon lookup and download the complete catalague to my desktop for use in Excel, which means importing into Word, and ultimate use on PDA is possible. Or as a CSV I can use a Palm native DB and have my entire library list in hand. The prospect is almost too wonderful for words. Oh, when will I be cured fromt his bibliophilia?
Another nice thing--if you're browsing through anyone's library and there's a cover displayed, a click on the cover will take you to Amazon where you might be able to purchase said book.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:59 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Laudable Endeavor
speculative catholic: Index Librorum Laudatorum
A list of recommended books. Perhaps there should be a central repository of these somewhere by year. I rather like the notion. Of course, I'd add a great many The Book of Her Life St. Teresa of Avila, Story of a Soul etc. But this is a nice short list to start with. I like it and I like the concept of it.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:15 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Well, Of Course. What Else Could It Be?
from Happy Catholic, this quiz:
| Your Element is Earth |
 Your energy: balancing Your season: changing of seasons Dedicated and responsible, you are a rock to your friends. |
Posted by Steven Riddle at 11:20 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
John Mason Neale--A Romance
Theodora Phranza; or, the Fall of Constantinople, by John Mason Neale (1913)
Posted by Steven Riddle at 3:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
The Author Cloud
LibraryThing | Catalog your books online
Look at the link above to see a survey of authors from the persons who have allowed their libraries to be public. The size of the author name gives an indication of the number of entries. Very gratifying to see C.S. Lewis and Gene Wolfe among those listed in larger type.
In a bit of a surprise Neil Gaiman's name rivals that of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett. That is gratifying as well. I don't know what's wrong or right with Gaiman, but Coraline was a creepy masterpiece.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 4:58 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Will All Be Saved?
This is one of my favorite Sundays because it always gives rise to the speculative, hopeful side of me. The workers in the vinyard are all paid the same wage regardless of when they come to work. It is this that gives me hope that all of humanity decides to accept that wage. The "I" of TULIP is what I would invoke, were I inclined to flowery theology. As I'm not, I know that grace is a gift, and as with any gift, we can refuse it.
But I'll share something from the Gulley and Mulholland reading I've been doing:
from If Grace Is True
Philip Gulley and James MulhollandHoliness and love are not competing commitments. God is love. His love endures forever. This enduring love is what makes God holy. . . .
Jesus said, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). If this verse was [sic] a command for moral perfection, our cause is hopeless. Fortunately, this admonition follows a command to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44). Perfection is demonstrated not by moral purity, but by extravagant love. We are like God not when we are pure but when we are loving and gracious. . . .
The Holy One will never come in wrath.
The Holy One always comes in love.
I love elsewhere their concept of what holiness is. By their definition, and I don't know how well it fits with classical definitions, Holiness is God's ability to confront evil without being defiled. More they say that true holiness delights in restoring the impure. When I think of the great saints of the Catholic Church, they all had largely the same focus, though it may have been expressed differently. Every one of them wanted to save souls, to win souls to God, to confront the impure and to bring it to purity.
It is when I think about this--the holiness of God and yet His tender interaction with me, the greatest sinner I know--that I am most overjoyed. Talk about mercy. Talk about love. Talk about patient endurance. Talk about the shepherd going out looking for the lost sheep. Here I am and I don't seem to be in hurry to move closer. He comes to me. The father of the prodigal, the good shepherd, the Lord, the keeper of the Vinyard--all of these, He comes to me. He condescends to come to me, and most glorious of all, He doesn't even remind me of or think about condescension at all. He does not constantly remind me of who I am and who He is. What could be greater love? He is still the eternal servant. And very honestly, sometimes I treat Him as such. And still, He comes to me. Oh, what a gracious, loving Lord. Surely such a Lord would not allow one to escape His grace. So I hope, so I pray, so I believe is possible. But I stay firmly with the Church saying that we cannot know it to be so with anything other than hope inspired by the Holy Spirit. I will not be a universalist--but I'll get as close as possible, because it is in this image of God among His children that I most rejoice. And I want to be in that crowd of children.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:57 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Well, It's the First Time I've Heard THAT Said About Me
From Julie of Happy Catholic:
| You are a Social Liberal (65% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (10% permissive) You are best described as a:
Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid |
I do think they've got their numbers mixed a bit. I think I'm supposed to be 10% socially permissive and 65% economically permissive if their plotting on the graph is correct.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 19, 2005
TS/Hurricane Rita
It seems as though the people along the water in Texas may have a visitor. These things are by no means certain, but let's pray that the visit be not so bad as our recent landfalls.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:28 AM | TrackBack
September 20, 2005
An Exciting New Prospect--A New Literary Magazine
Many of you may already have received this announcement, but it is of such interest that I thought I'd share it here. My normal policy is not to share what arrives in e-mail, but there is an implicit permission in the body of the text itself, and it is perhaps best to allow the editor to speak for himself.
I am writing to inform you of a new initiative that I hope you will find very exciting and interesting. Throughout the past few months, a group of young Catholics (including myself) have been working to create a Catholic literary magazine targeted to students and young scholars. The name of the magazine is Dappled Things, and its aim is to provide a space for young writers to engage the literary world rom a Catholic perspective. There are SO many talented young Catholics out there, that we decided it was imperative to bring Dappled Things into existence as an outlet for this talent and as a means of nurturing more of it. The magazine is committed to quality writing yhat takes advantage of the religious, theological, philosophical, artistic, cultural, and literary heritage of the Catholic Church in order to inform and enrich contemporary literary culture. Thus, we are committed to following JPII's call to evangelize the arts and culture.
After much "behind the scenes" work, we are beginning our awareness campaign in order to spark interest in the magazine throughout the country. We seek to publish our inaugural online issue this advent, for which we are currently accepting submissions. We expect to release a print edition before the end of 2006. . . .If you are interested in our work, you could be a great help to our awareness campaign by informing your readers about the magazine, and providing a link to our website
where they will be able to find more information about our publication and how they may be able to make a submission. Feel free to contact me if you have any further questions.
I look forward to hearing back from you soon.
In a post script the writer points out that they had arrived at the name of the magazine itself before they were fully aware of blogdom and the coincidence of names is precisely that, a coincidence.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Sobering Prospect--Personal Holiness
I was writing a meditation on a gospel passage this morning when a sobering thought occurred to me. We serve the Lord more by who we are than by what we say. People who see us and know that we are Christians judge both us and the Christ we proclaim by what we do. The look at the concurrence of words and actions to see what it is we proclaim.
What does my life say of Jesus? It isn't a consideration I like to give much thought to. If I am honest, the Jesus I present to the world must be a thin and weedy thing indeed. A spindly weed of a man who pipes up now and then with some heartening consideration about the kingdom of heaven. His Presence hasn't much presence in my day-to-day world.
I am who I am--there is little enough I can do about some things. But does my life convey the joy of knowing Christ? And if not, what can I do about it? To the former question, I can only quake in fear at the answer--if people knew the enormity of my sinfulness and unworthiness, it would make a mockery of Jesus. But as to the latter, I do have an effective answer. As weak as I may be, as sinful and worthless a man as I might present to the world, I can be otherwise through prayer. I cannot change myself for good, but I can be changed by submission to and continuing in prayer. I will remain a sinner, but I will be a sinner who is honest host to God Himself, seeking always to remain in His presence. "If the bridegroom is present, can the wedding guests be in mourning?" In prayer I can be transformed to be a true messenger of Christ. If I spend time with Him, I will become like Him.
It is said that married couples through the years become more like one another. ( I suspect that is mostly in the bad things so that our annoying habits do not annoy so seriously. ) So, if we seek the Holy Spirit through the marriage of prayer and we keep the blessed trinity company through prayer, surely we will become more like them. Or to take another metaphor, one is judged by the company one keeps. The reason is that one becomes more like the company one keeps--it is a natural human inclination to blend in. What then could be better than to blend into the company of the blessed trinity.
Prayer will transform me to become a true disciple of Christ, preaching daily through my actions and through my love.
I have nothing to add to the deposit of wisdom that has been passed down through the ages. In truth, I don't understand a majority of that deposit. Unlike some, I have no wisdom or understanding to share. So I am driven by this to share the only thing I can know well--God's love. I share that not in my words, but by His indwelling presence and by my submssion to Him in the presence of His children. I serve God by loving Him and I love Him best when I show His love to His children--all of His children without regard to how I personally may feel about them.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
An Aphorism Along the Same Lines
Better the scraps from the Master's table than a feast of my own making.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:13 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 21, 2005
Come, let us sing to the Lord . . .
and shout with joy to the Rock Who saves us.
Every day for more years than I can count, I have started the day of prayer with this psalm
Come, let us sing to the Lord
and shout with joy to the Rock Who saves us.
Let us approach Him with praise and thanksgiving
and sing joyful songs to the Lord.
Every day, year in year out, I trudge through this Invitatory because it is the gateway to morning prayer. After the first few times it becomes almost painful to repeat it. After a year or so of pain, it becomes numbing, and your lips and mind simply hum through it to get to the point.
But this is the gateway to the day. This is the morning offering you make upon entering morning prayer. This is the practice of the presence of God. Come, let us sing to the Lord. What good advice--no matter what the circumstances of life. When I sing to the Lord I am drawn out of myself and the problems of the day. I am made better simply by not being me--or, said better, by being who I really am rather than who I make myself out to be.
"And shout with joy to the Rock Who saves us." How many of us shout with joy in any sense each day? How many of us leap up in spontaneous praise and worship? Yet, we can "train" ourselves to do so. I can make a practice of joy, or recognizing the presence of God in my life and joyfully give thanks. My face can beam the radiance of joy to all around me. Joy is not something I sustain, it is sustained by grace. All too often, I take grace for granted. It is some invisible, intangible thing that I "bank" as I participate in prayers and sacraments. But grace is more than that. In one version of the translation of the Sanctus we sing, "Heaven and Earth are filled with your Glory." I like this version because it suggests a never ending supply. "Banking" grace is like banking dry ice--you'll open up the vault to find it empty. Grace is replenished as it is expressed in our living with others. When I take a moment to make someone's day better, I am depending upon grace. Grace is "spent" and immediately regenerated and refilled. Indeed, "my cup runneth over." Grace must be expressed. Grace is given to accomplish God's work in the world and in my own life. I can't store it up, like manna, it doesn't keep for more than the time it is needed. But when it is needed (at every moment of the day) and "used" it is never "used up." When we "shout with joy to the Rock Who saves us," we express that gift.
Let us approach Him with praise and thanksgiving. . . From Father O'Holohan I learned a truth that is inexpressibly valuable--the grateful heart cannot be an unhappy heart. When I express thanksgiving, when I am grateful for who I am and what I have been given, I am expressing joy in the gifts God has showered on me. I have written God a little thank you note and God who gives ever generously, even without thanks, delights in giving more to those who at least recognize that all is gift. Praise likewise takes us out of ourselves and directs our attention to the Persons who give us everything worth living for. Praise broadens us and makes us firmer vessels of grace because it encourages true humility. Praise can only properly come from one who knows his place in the scheme of things and has rightly ordered his life to reflect that place. Praise lifts me up toward God because it allows me to be who I really am and to know where I belong in the scheme of things.
Joyful praise and thanksgiving are expressed in our morning song. Even if I do not sing, I sing when I act for God. In The Simarillion and The Kalevala which it much resembles, the God of creation sang everything into being. While our own scriptures do not mention this mode of creation, I do not find it at all unlikely. Everything around me swims in the rhythm of divine song. I think of Bach's Four Part Inventions or Art of Fugue and extend the voices infinitely until there is between every living thing, and all those things and people who have passed before a woven connection of musical themes. We sing to God because it adds to the texture of the melody of creation. God made us to sing. God made us to praise. God made us to love and to be loved. God made us to be vessels of grace. God made us to be God for other people, to lead them to Him, to bring everyone home.
A grateful, praising heart is fertile ground for God to plant the seed of His Word, divinely spoken, begotten not made, one of the Three. And where there is one, there are all three.
So, it seems, the gateway to prayer is itself an entire world of prayer, properly seen. If I could keep this verse in my heart through the day of chance encounters and frustrations, I would grace those arouond me and I would "practice the presence of God." I would give Him praise and delight Him, simply by bringing Him to mind.
Come, let us sing to the Lord
and shout with joy to the Rock Who saves us.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
More Advice from the Psalms
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.
Serve the Lord with gladness
and come before His presence with singing. . .
How much better a world this would be if we would do this even 10% of the time. How much better each of our lives would be. How much better for all those around me. Perhaps this is a commitment I should make.
The other day at Disputations Tom was commenting that we don't do a very good job of preaching Jesus and Him crucified. Perhaps this psalm gives us a place to start that teaching. We start when we make a joyful noise unto the Lord. What better preaching is there than joy that comes from God alone, shared and spread to everyone we meet?
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 22, 2005
Celebrating Autumn
The Blog from the Core - A Fall Bouquet of Poetry II
Mr. Lane Core gives us a sampling of poetry that celebrates the autumn, and some very nice things in it indeed. Go and enjoy. Thank you Mr. Core.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:13 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
On Switching Horses Too Quickly
Yesterday was the first day in a while that I had heard nothing from anyone and I was puzzled. Normally in the course of a day I hear something--generally over the pieces of fluff that I include, or perhaps a dissenting voice to one of my more strident opinions, so this silence intrigued me.
I went over the posts from yesterday and the day before and realized that I am once again entering the silence. That, in itself, is very encouraging because I have felt long excluded from it and it seems I can approach somewhat closer now.
But really, you can talk among yourselves. Too much silence too suddenly is disconcerting. One wonders where the readers have gone. (I don't have stats that are dynamically updated, so I've no way of knowing whether people still stop by on days when nothing is said.)
I shouldn't even publish this, but I will because I've adopted a version of Mark Shea's motto--"that no idiotic stray thought go unrecorded."
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:14 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
Being Charismatic
Video meliora, proboque; Deteriora sequor
TSO links to a most excellent post on facing the charismatic movement when you yourself are not.
It is most interesting as to all outward appearances and to any casual acquaintance I would appear to be the total anti-Charismatic. And I suppose to some degree there is truth in that evaluation.
I belonged to the renewal for five or six years. I never once spoke in tongues nor did I ever accept that speaking in tongues is what the Renewal makes of it. In the time of Acts, speaking in tongues meant that whatever language was being spoken was understood universally by all in their own tongue. So this melodious, wordless, sing-song thing that had no meaning to mean obviously was not the same thing. (Note, that I said HAD and TO ME; I've come to think of it quite differently as I shall relate below.)
I remember the first time someone stood up in a meeting and uttered something in this very fluid sibilant language and my reaction was, "Thank you very much for that." No translation, no clarification, nothing comprehensible.
And yet, though I never spoke in tonuges, I attended every meeting and every gathering of these great people that I could. In their presence, I experienced God in a way that I never did in any other place. While they were all singing or praying in tongues, or dancing, or doing whatever the spirit led, I was led to an inner sanctum, a place of utter calm and quiet. It was as though this fence of prayer set up a boundary between distractions and prayer. I was at my most contemplative in the core of silence that surrounded this hub-bub.
I don't know what tongues is--I refused the gift I suppose. But I do not think everyone receives the gift, regardless of the insistence that it is given. However, I was given a tremendous, powerful gift of silence. The "white noise" of prayer all around me did lead me to a much closer relationship with God. I was able to nurture and foster my Carmelite vocation amid the charismatics.
Now I attend a Mass that would drive most of St. Blog's insane. All of the music is a Taizé-like chanting repetition of a simple phrase, or powerful new music that lends itself to the same strain, or simple gospel tunes, or even Calypso. When I sing, "Our God is an awesome God," at Mass, I encounter a reality that eludes me in the "standard music" of the non-Latin mass. I am engaged at a heart level and I am actually participating in Mass. And, it is so much more powerful when there are any number of people singing and raising their hands in prayer. Okay, not everyone's cup of tea, but I sense the Charismatic strain in all of this, and I am perfectly, wonderfully at home.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:31 AM | Comments (11) | TrackBack
Colm Toibin
The post to which TSO links, is from Enbrethiel who is a Colm Toibin fan. I know him only from The Master and obviously have some work cut out for me as it seems that I have missed out on a great deal and on a great author.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Holy Souls Prayer Books
Bethune Catholic: Paying the bills .....
Bethune Catholic offers a nice selection of books, including a book perfect for the month of November. In addtion, they are in need of some cashflow, so let's preserve another fine Catholic Press while offering suffrages for the poor souls in Purgatory.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:01 AM | TrackBack
Which Emperor
From Noli Irritare Leones--it could have been worse.
You're Augustus, the first emperor of Rome. He had
a lot of drive and skill, possessing a
respectable spirit and the ability to persuade.
His wife was alwasys in his ear, she has a
BIGGER persuasive spirit. He's a God.
What Julio-Claudian Roman Emperor are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Posted by Steven Riddle at 4:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Buy A Friend A Book
It is with a cheerful and smiling self-aggrandizement that I point out that the next BAFAB opportunity is the first week of October, and TSO has recently pointed out that mine is not the largest private library that he is aware of (Alas). It strikes me that one should be able to rely upon one's friends to redress these gross maladjustments of the celestial sphere.
So those so inclined can hie thee to Amazon and see if they can figure out how to find my wish list and purchase one, two, three, or all six-hundred and eighty-nine items on it. (exaggerating of course--I'm fairly certain there are not more than 100 at the present time.)
But wait! There's more! If you act right now, you can go to this page and get fabulously wonderful stickers to put on your blog site and to lead others straight to your amazon wish-list!
Posted by Steven Riddle at 5:43 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
September 23, 2005
A Grace Note on the Charismatic Renewal
One thing I forgot to say and which ties in with themes that have been running through my mind since earlier this week (there are no coincidences) is that Praying in Tongues is certainly exemplary of "a joyful noise." While I have never done so myself, I am always at home with those who sing their prayers to God--I am buoyed up and brought closer to God on this tide of joy and I am moved to joy myself.
In a very real way the Charismatic movement taught me the beginning of contemplation, of waiting on the Lord with patient fervor.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:56 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Thread of Grace
A book by Mary Doria Russell is always a treat, and this is no exception; however, I must admit to being somewhat disappointed in the end of this exceptional book.
I am not a student of WW II. Frankly I know almost nothing about it. As a result, I learned a tremendous amount about the Italian Campaign and what exactly happened in Italy while reading the book. For example, I had not realized that Italy essentially capitulated in 1943 and was thereafter a puppet state of Germany. I thought that at the point of Italian surrender, Mussolini had been executed, but it was in fact at the defeat of Germany. So the book served as a sovereign remedy for a certain blind spot I have in history.
More than that, it is an excellent story about how the Italian people joined together to save the Jews that had escaped from Nice (and such native Italian Jews as they could). The story starts with a harrowing march from Nice to the small towns of Northern Italy. It chronicles two years of terror for nearly everyone in those small towns as the Nazis attempt to force the townspeople to surrender the Jews to them. In our small history, no one does so.
Another point in Russell's favor, she appears to have no ideological axe to grind. The Pope is not singled out for doing nothing. The only mention of the concordat is a mention in favor of what it did well and how it was used to help the cause. The priests in the book are holy and ultimately self-sacrificing. If there is any small fault it is that everyone (other than most of the Nazis) is so darned noble that one begins to wonder how a war was fought at all.
And perhaps that is what makes me a little disappointed at the ending of the novel. Suddenly, internicine strife of which we have had nearly no indication begins to snuff out people one by one until, at the very end, there appear to be something like three people left whom we have met in the novel. Somehow, I felt this did not ring true and I'm uncertain of Russell's purpose in bringing the novel to a close this way.
Nevertheless, despite reservations about the ending, I must recommend this book to those who wish to know more about the conduct of the war in Italy, about people who risked everything to help strangers who did not even speak their language, about human nobility in the face of absolute horror. Once again, beautiful written and compassionate--if you can believe it even to the perpetrator of all of this horror (even while not exonerating or taking away one smidgen of his ultimate responsibility and guilt).
Treat yourself--try this book. If you enjoy it (and you read Science Fiction) you will find The Swallow (aka Jesuits in Space) to be an even finer, more satisfying, if puzzling read. Enjoy!
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:00 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Rashomon
Probably the single most famous Japanese story of all time. Made into one of the most copied Japanese films of the great master Akira Kurasawa. And relentlessly copied in literature. If you read only one piece of Japanese literature, you owe it to yourself to become acquainted with this strange, haunting, frightening little tale.
later I see I originally neglected to mention that this story is by Akutagawa, often nicknamed "the Japanese Poe." But perhaps a much more important figure in Japan than Poe was in the U.S.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:48 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 24, 2005
History of Mystery
Some fairly important mysteries have already made it to Gutenberg, but this is the first I've heard of R. Austin Freeman's The Red Thumb Mark. Part of the "Impossible Crime" Movement and featuring Dr.Thorndyke, this is a critical publication for those interested in the development of the mystery.
With this publication there were three other Thorndyke mysteries--The Uttermost Farthing, John Thorndyke's Cases, and The Mystery of 31 New Inn. I must confess ignorance as the the first and last of these--so more new good reading.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:44 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Another Key Text in "Japanese Literature"
I honestly don't even know how to describe and typify this work. It isn't Japanese because it is by Lafacadio Hearn, a would-be Japanese from ?San Francisco.
Kokoro means "heart" and it includes a number of glimpses into Japanese culture at the time. (read more about Hearn here).
Suffice it to say that this is a major work in the genre. Gutenberg has had some pretty hot properties of recent date.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:52 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Boston Molasses Flood of 1919
Molasses Clocked at 35 MPH ... in January!
Okay, so you watch too much Food Network and you hear about things like the Boston Molassacre, in which 21 people died in a Molasses flood. It isn't funny, but there's such a surreal effect about it, I had to make it part of the blog.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:32 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack