Flos Carmeli

A Poll, A Query,

A Poll, A Query, Some Questions

As a matter of curiousity, and you needn't leave a name with your answer, I'd like to know which of the following you think is beautiful. Yes for beautiful, no for not beautiful along with the number would be sufficient.

1. Pablo Picasso's Guernica
2. Pablo Picasso's Les Desmoiselles D'Avignon
3. Dali The Persistence of Memory
4. Joan Miro Festival of the Harlequin
5. Georgia O'Keefe Iris
6. Monet Impression:Sunrise
7. Courbet The Seacoast

8. Debussy La Mer
9. Schönberg PIerrot Lunaire
10. Schönberg Verklarte Nacht
11. Hindemith Mathis der Mahler
12. StraussAlso Sprache Zarathustra
13. Holst The Planets
14. Webern Five Pieces for Small Orchestra Bonus question: did he really encode secrets in his music?
15. Bartok Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta
16. Rachmaninoff Variations on a Theme by Paganini
17. Vaughn Williams The Lark Ascending

Then, if you would append to any answers you decide to leave two further points of information:

What is the most beautiful painting you have ever seen (famous or otherwise) and what makes it so?
What is the most beautiful piece of Music you have ever heard?

I will answer these latter two to get us started.

For painting I will name two because one of them no one other than my family and a few visitors has ever seen.
(1) A painting by my mother of sunset over Pensacola, Fla. because it is by my mother and reflects her feelings upon my father having to leave on a six month cruise in the Mediterranean.
(2)Vermeer-Girl with a Pearl Earring--The eyes, the face, the turban, the light, the perfection of every fold. Oh let's just say all of Vermeer.
(3) Tie--Duruflé or Faure Requiem. Sublime, suggestive of the heavenly, and wholly consoling.

Dubious Personality Quiz Okay so

Dubious Personality Quiz

Okay so now we're being identified with elemental agents. I did this seven times, trying out many different combinations of answers where I felt there were multiple possibilities and I still came up with this--but somehow don't believe it. The real problem is in the first question--my personality type isn't there.

You're wind! You are a very kind and sympathetic person. Whoever DOESN'T like you has a mental disorder, because you are a loving and caring gentle soul.




What element are you?

Thoughts Once Again About Beauty

Thoughts Once Again About Beauty

One of the whole points of this strain of thought (and strain it is) is that we need a reasonable, logical, and consistent statement for those who tell us: (a) there is no objective beauty (John da Fiesole has already addressed this); (b) ALL judgments about beauty are necessarily cultural and subjective; (c) things that are patently ugly and (most likely immoral) are both beautiful and worthwhile. There are no arguments that do not have at their roots objective standards that can be used against the latter two. Now, it is possible that others will deny the specifics of the definitions, and thus "refute" out argument. But as the scriptures tell us we must stand ready to provide a reason for the hope that is within us. Part of this hope is made evident by beauty--if we cannot clear our minds sufficiently of the webs of modernism and postmodernism, we will miss this important consideration.

Additionally, we need to acknowledge the possibility that a thing may be beautiful and we do not see the beauty in it (Chinese Opera), but that an unbeautiful thing (elephant-dung smeared Madonnas) may indeed merely be ugly. Once again, objectivity and an objective standard is what is required. With an objective standard we can say, "That may be beautiful, but I do not care for it." Or, in a more important statement, "That is not beautiful and cannot be beautiful." The first statement allows us to acknowledge the preference of others. The second demands of us recognition of beauty and then serves as a guide as we create new works of art. We will have a certain standard to hold up against the modernist critics who will tell us that "Everything is Beautiful, in its own way."

Is There in Truth No

Is There in Truth No Beauty?

I have always wanted to use this as a title--I love the subtle ambiguity.

Mr. da Fiesole has presented an argument from Aquinas that helps clear up some of the muddle I was getting in over the question of objective beauty, which, I held must exist, but I was uncertain how to define it. It also suggests another way around the question of objectivity, but I'm not certain what it does with all of the other concerns, because it merely reinforces that objective beauty exists.

When reading the argument, read the shorter second paragraph first. It supplies a definition that is critical for acceptance of the longer argument on objective beauty. Now, does anyone know where one might find this argument spelled out? Somewhere perhaps in the Summa, but that's rather like saying, somewhere in the ocean.

My sincere thanks to Mr. da Fiesole.

One thing this clarification DOES NOT do is give any credence to comparatives--"Latin is objectively more beautiful than English." But it does perhaps cause me to rethink some of my statements re: comments by Kairos and others. Given a workable definition of objective beauty, which actually, I think coincides closely with my fumblings, I think I may have to say that it IS proper to say that Handel is objectively beautiful. But it still does leave us with the philosophical problem of beauty. (Why in philosophy is nearly everything a "problem" or a "question?") Well, more on that later.

Objectivity In order to better

Objectivity

In order to better express this and subsequent posts, it seems I must clarify my definitions, because I think we will find that there is less disagreement when I have made clear what I am saying.

That is objective which admits of no denial, it can be proven or analyzed by innumerable unbiased observers and shown to be true. Facts are objective, opinions, no matter how informed are subjective. Objectively you can show that in any numerical system base 3 and above that 1+1=2. That is objectively undeniable to anyone in his or her right mind.

So too is the statement, "Beauty exists." There may be some controversialists who for the sake of the arguement might deny the statement or "nuance" it out of existence, but everyone, regardless of their notion of beauty, is likely to concur that it exists.

Subjective statements encompass anything not objectively verifiable. "Beauty exists" is objective, "This or that thing is beautiful," is subjective--it admits of no proof other than the opinion of the individual expressing it. Someone says to me, "Beethoven's Symphony Number 9 is the most beautiful piece of music ever composed." I respond, "No, Rachmininoff's Vespers is." Who is correct? Surely you can say which is better crafted according to understandings of musicians (I can't, but there may be experts who can). But can you actually compare the beauty of the two? And if so, is it appropriate to do so?

Thus when I say that a language CANNOT be objectively beautiful, I am not saying that it is not beautiful, I am saying that there is no independent measure that can be placed against it that will tick some meter over into the "beautiful" side of the scale. When I initially wrote concerning Latin and English, it was not the beauty or lack of beauty in Latin that was the matter of contention, but the statement that "Latin is objectively more beautiful than English."

Now I suppose I must back track and wonder if I do believe in objective beauty at all. I suppose in the sense I defined, that the Divine is necessarily beautiful then in the "vault of Heaven" of Plato, beauty can have its ideal and objective form. However, I also know that many people find , Les Desmoiselles d'Avignon hideous and repugnant, and I find it, while not beautiful, endlessly interesting and arresting. My wife cannot stand The Persistance of Memory and I find it transcendant and lovely. I would not say it is objectively beautiful, but I do find it beautiful.

The question comes down to what is beauty?

But that is for another day. For this day, suffice to say that I find myself not in disagreement with much that has been commented on below, but perhaps we are talking past each other and not phrasing the arguments in the same terms.

So, when Kairos Guy says below: "I think Handel is, truly, objectively beautiful, though I cannot tell you why, or more correctly, I cannot tell you precisely what about it makes it beautiful." I have to disagree. Not that I disagree with Handel's music being beautiful, I find it transcendantly so, but that it is objectively so. A person from Singapore, a person raised always with East Asian music in his ears may find Handel abhorrent, they may be moved by it. But how many of us can truly say that we love to listen to the music of a Chinese Opera? Yet, among the Chinese surely this must be recognized as beautiful. Thus, it is not the statement of beauty that is the contention, but the statement that it is objective. Could any number of unbiased observers perform the same analysis and come to the same conclusion?

Now, it is about the second part of the statement above that I am most interested. I do have a thought about what makes it beautiful that ties in nicely with the interchange below about elephant-dung covered madonnas. I believe that beauty stems from the Creator, that which seeks the Creator and seeks to extol His work is beautiful, that which defiles, mocks, and otherwise blasphemes the creator or demeans His creation is not. Now, as with any aesthetic theory, (not philosophical aesthetics), this is preeminently subjective. I can see God's glory in Joan Miro, others do not. Some see God's genius hidden in the works of Webern or Stockhausen (unimaginable to me). So on we go with the consideration.

Why spend so much time? Because I do believe that it is important to hold to things that are Good, True, and Beautiful. In order to do so, we must be able to discern the qualities that make them so. It would be my contention that proximity to Divinity and Divine purpose is what causes something to be beautiful. A sunset over ocean water is beautiful because for a moment we are drawn out of the shell of self and upward into the Divine Melieu (not that I'm coining a phrase here).

This seems important in a world so endlessly involved with itself, so relativist and lost in a post-modernist haze. We need to move away from this and reestablish the bounds to the Good, the True and the Beautiful. And then we need to follow St. Paul's advice, "Whatsoever is good, whatsoever is pure, whatsoever is beautiful, whatsoever is of good report. . .think on these things." Why? Because they are all clues, all signposts to the divine.

More later. Still quelling the (metaphorical) explosions and mopping up.

Additional Advantages of the Latin

Additional Advantages of the Latin Lauds and Vespers

I spoke of having bought this book a little while ago. Subsequently additional advantages have accrued. I find that I never really finish Morning Prayer--at odd times of the morning I find myself going back to the psalms and prayers and reading them, puzzling through them, seeking to better understand the Latin, but immersing myself in the fountain of Grace that stems from spending time with the scriptures. I find that they grow on me, and I want to return to them again and again and again.

Surely such an occurrence is exactly what we look for in the purchase of a book to help our spiritual life. I find it difficult to close the book. Admittedly part of what I am doing is reading the English and comparing it to Latin, finding where the translation is incomplete or in some way inaccurate. But even this intellectual endeavor sharpens my desire for God because it is His word I use. Amazing the way God uses features of our personalities and proclivities to draw us ever closer.

[only tangentially related note] In my entry below re: Latin, there is some discussion of ecclesial v. classical. I have no training whatsoever in ecclesial Latin--all of my training in Latin came in classical Latin and so I use the classical pronunciations. Is anyone aware of a web site that might define the differences in pronunciation, or of a publication I could find that would give me a short key to ecclesial Latin pronunciation? I'm sure that the sounds I make in my head are poor indications of what the language sounded (s) like anyhow. But it would be nicer to have a somewhat better soundtrack.

From the Stunning Richard Crashaw

From the Stunning Richard Crashaw

It pains me that Crashaw is often dismissed in classes on Seventeenth Century poets with a single poem, or perhaps two, and a words that he is, in fact, a minor poet. Both Vaughn and Crashaw suffer this ignominy, in my opinion, because the majority of their respective opera are religious in tone. Unlike Herrick or Donne, the religious verse is not salted through with lyrics that are just short of salacious (and sometimes not short of it). Crashaw is a Catholic Poet who has been unjustly underrated in Academia and who needs to be better appreciated by the reading public. Following in the strain of my first post this morning, I must declare that the Poetry of the Seventeenth Century is objectively more beautiful than any subsequent verse. ;-P

Two Went up into the Temple to Pray Richard Crashaw (1613-1649)

                Two went to pray? O rather say
              One went to brag, th' other to pray:

                One stands up close and treads on high,
              Where th' other dares not send his eye.

                One nearer to God's altar trod,
              The other to the altar's God.

I've Declared a Seventeenth Century

I've Declared a Seventeenth Century Day

Fortunately for you, what I declare has little bearing on the world at large. But I wanted to offer you all this wonderful and slight poem for your delectation, delight, and edification.

Mediocrity in Love Rejected Thomas Carew

              Give me more love or more disdain;
                    The torrid, or the frozen zone,
              Bring equal ease unto my pain;
                    The temperate affords me none;
              Either extreme, of love, or hate,
              Is sweeter than a calm estate.

              Give me a storm; if it be love,
                    Like Danae in that golden show'r
              I swim in pleasure; if it prove
                  Disdain, that torrent will devour
            My vulture-hopes; and he's possess'd
            Of heaven, that's but from hell releas'd.
            Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
            Give me more love, or more disdain.

Continuing the Previous Strain This

Continuing the Previous Strain

This argument of the (need I say Glorious) seventeenth century:

The Excellency of the English Tongue (printed 1614) Richard Carew of Anthony (1555-1620)

The
Excellencie of the English tongue, by R. C. of Anthony
Esquire to W. C.

IT were most fittinge (in respect of discretion) that men
should first waye matters with Iudgement, and then
encline their affection where the greatest reason swayeth,
but ordinarilye it falleth out to the conntrarie ; for either
by nature or by Custome wee first settle our affection, and
then afterwards drawe in those arguments to approve it,
which should have foregone to perswade ourselfes. This
preposterous course, seing antiquitye from our Elders and
vniuersalitye of our neighbours doe entitle with a right,
I should my selfe the more freely warranted delirare, not
only cum Vulgo but also cum Sapientibus, in seekinge out
with what Commendacions I may attire our English
Languadge, as Stephanus hath done for the French and
diuers others for theirs.

Four pointes requisite in a Languadge.

Locutio is defined Animi sensus per vocem expressio.
On which grounde I builde these Consequences, that the
first and principall point sought in euery Languadge is
that wee maye expresse the meaning of our mindes aptlye
ech to other ; next, that we may doe it readilye without
great adoo; then fullye, so as others maye thoroughlie
conceiue vs; and, last of all, handsomely, that those to
whome we speake maye take pleasure in hearing vs: soe
as what soeuer tongue will gaine the race of perfection
must runn on those fower wheeles, Signficancye, Easynes,
Copiousnes, |&| Sweetnes, of which the two foremost importe
a necessitye, the two latter a delight. Nowe if I can
proue that our English Langwadge for all or the most is
macheable, if not preferable, before any other in vogue at
this daye, I hope the assent of any impartiall reeder will
passe on my side. And howe I endeuoure to performe
the same this short laboure shall manyfest.

All of which is merely words. Judging beauty by utility might please John Stuart Mill, but it certainly won't make the grade for the vast majority of us.

On Latin as a Language

On Latin as a Language

Elsewhere in the blogworld I have seen the claim that "Ecclesial Latin is an objectively more beautiful language. . ." I assume the comparison was to English.

Now, this comes as news. I did not realize standards had been established and instruments developed to quantify beauty in any existing thing, much less language. Such objective standards had somehow eluded me in the course of my studies.

Beauty is difficult to describe, much less measure. Is Latin a beautiful language? I don't know--I can say that I haven't been particularly impressed with the spoken version of the language that I have had opportunity to hear, and I have been profoundly moved by the sung version. The same might be said of many languages--German, Russian, Hungarian, Romanian, all of which is meaninglessly subjective. To my ears one of the loveliest of languages is Hawaiian, but I cannot quantify its beauty, nor can I suggest an objective measure for the beauty of language.

Latin may be many things--it is certainly a "fixed" language offering limited opportunity for enhancement or change, it is a language with tradition within the church, it is a "universal" language in that it does not change. It presents some difficulties. Being a fixed language, I would suspect that there are a number of modern concepts that are difficult to convey in Latin, thus it must be the work of a large committee sometimes to find the proper words for those documents promulgated in Latin. It is a language that must be translated to all others and the translations of which often involves the interpolation of numerous other words. An example from Lauds this morning: the Latin reads "radii ex manibus eius," which means, literally "rays out of his hand." The English translation "rays flashed from his hand." There is no verb in the phrase, we must provide one. Context gives us a suggested word, but we could put just about anything there and still be erroneous in our translation--rays trickled out of his hand, rays jumped from his hand, rays bounced from his hand, rays radiated from his hand--doesn't matter, there is no verb, so we must supply one.

At any rate, I belabor the point. The use of Latin in the Church is merely and entirely a preference with strong traditional backing. One cannot argue beauty or accuracy (unless one is completely fluent in Latin and understands every syllable) or any other criterion for its preference other than a personal experience. And that is enough. We need provide no more justification for Latin than the fact that we like it. I like the sound of a sung high Mass. I've never been present in a Church during one, but I suspect that it might also be very beautiful. However, there is a part of me that says as wonderful and as lovely as it might be, I suspect that the Lord values more my plain, stumbling English words in which I offer him my love and my life with a full understanding of what I do.

I guess I veiw the whole vernacular/Latin thing as largely a Mac/PC thing. In the Mac/PC debate you have partisans on either side who have remarkably good arguments for their support of a given platform. But the reality tends to be, whatever it was that you did your first major work on tends to remain your platform of preference. So, too, with Latin and Vernacular. Those raised on the Latin Mass are right to treasure that wonderful heritage. Those of us who have not been may admire the beauty from afar, but (particularly those of us with Protestant backgrounds) might have some reservations about praying in a language we do not completely understand. How can I offer God my understanding if I have none, how can I participate in Mass if I don't really know what I'm saying, and if what I'm saying is merely the recitation of words and not something that has rooted meaning for me? I can mumble the Latin with the rest of the congregation--but as with liturgical Slavonic in the Byzantine Church, I may just be saying words.

So, I enthusiastically support those who love Latin, but I refuse to be seduced by arguments that invoke "objective beauty" of a language, or which posit some sort of superiority of expression and reflection due to the fact that the language has been, for all intents and purposes dead for centuries. English is still one of the finest languages for nuances of expression and for conveying ideas and notions than almost any other. It has its shortcomings and its difficulties, but it can be a language of remarkable beauty (see the KJV psalms, or Dylan's Favorite the BCP of the early 18th Century--sorry can't remember the exact date.)

So, I'm not arguing against Latin. I would very much like for the Latin Mass to be more universally available, even though I would likely not go to it often. But I do not like to see weak arguments used in support of a notion that should not need defense. His Holiness has encouraged us in attendance at the Latin Mass and has encouraged the use of the Indult given for the Tridentine--that should be sufficient for anyone. Latin needs no defense, and it certainly deserves better than a false appeal to some form of objective beauty that cannot be measured.

Rahner Again [warning: syntactical maelströms

Rahner Again [warning: syntactical maelströms ahead

A very kind reader directed me toward this article on Rahner's transfinalization and transsignification. What I have determined from my brief reading is that my mind is simply not capable of grappling with the subject at all, but I have an intuition that Fr. Regis Scanlon may have misinterpreted Fr. Rahner's intent. One contention that disturbs me in the argument is that while Rahner rejected Trent's meaning of substance, he rejects the essence of the doctrine of transubstantiation. I think Rahner's rejection of substance comes from the physical reality of bread not being an essence or all of a type, but being a combination of molecules in modern understanding. Perhaps it is out of this reading/understanding of substance that Rahner felt the need to wiggle around and try to explain what happened. I would take a simpler tack and say that while substance may not mean "essence" it certainly can mean substance in the more general sense of the term, and not worry a whole lot about atoms and molecules. On the other hand, I probably don't have a clue what the real problem is and never will, so I will never know where Rahner stood (until and unless the Lord sees fit to reveal it) so I think that after this last post I will simply dismiss the whole mess and let Fr. Rahner and Jesus talk it out between themselves--they don't need my help, and the conversation simply makes my head hurt. However, I did feel the need to post this because the reader who recommended this article came late to the discussion and it would be a shame not to hear an additional voice. Thank you for this contribution, sir.

All others, be forewarned--my skull is splitting, and I am returning to the warm embrace of gentle St. John of the Cross, my director, my guide, and a man who doesn't talk in sentences with seventeen sub-sub-sub clauses. Rather than telling me the exact composition of the Lord, he simply points and says, "Love Him."

The Paths of St. Blog's

The Paths of St. Blog's Are More Heavily Trodden

I have noted a phenomenon of numbers that I have thought much about and concluded represents something different than what I had initially posited. Starting about the end of November, beginning of December the average weekly number of hits on this blog increased dramatically, by that I mean an approximately 33% boost in readership. Now, of course I attributed this to the sterling prose and fine good sense always exhibited by the ever-modest blogmaster. However, I have concluded that this result is merely a result all are probably experiencing because the blogoverse, like the true Einsteinian Space-Time it is, is expanding due to publicity, interest, or any combination of factors. I am receiving some of the benefit of increasing overall traffic.

To understand the conclusion, you must follow my line of thought. When I started keeping track of numbers I made an assumption that the audience would slowly grow to a point where I had finally gathered all who were interested and then it would plateau. Numbers for September, October, and early November supported this contention. I assumed I had whatever would constitute my regular visitors and that would be my audience. Late November showed a large increase, and so too with December and January. My only conclusion--a large influx of visitors brought by way of articles in popular media including the Web.

All of this by way of saying, be on your best behavior, we have new visitors all the time, and their picture of Christianity may in some part be drawn from what is going on here. (Although, I must say, I doubt explorers of Christianity spend much time stumbling through blogs; however, one can never tell where the seeds one plants--be they good or bad--are likely to sprout.) As I am ALWAYS on my best behavior I consider myself exempt from my own advice. :-D!!

As It Has Already Been

As It Has Already Been a Ranting Day--Cautions to St. Blog's

I don't know how I overlooked this wonderful post by Mr. Gil of Ibidem. Please make the time to consider this carefully. I think it has some wonderful advice for us all.

Part of my lengthy response to Mr. Gil:

I agree with all that you say and think that we need to heal division and heal the trauma done the Church by well-intentioned individuals. Ms. Knapp, some time back, posted in a similar vein asking us to accept our Catholic Brethren as brethren.

I have many disagreements with some on some issues that are fairly important in human terms, but so long as the person I am debating with says and lives that "Jesus is the center of my life and the crown of my existence," I can live with our disagreements.

I think particularly of a wonderful woman in my parish who attends Mass every day, has an obvious devotion to and love for Our Lord, and desires every bit as much as I do to carry that love out to the whole world--yet she thinks that there should be women priests and that priests should be married. She disagrees on matters of concern and importance, I will never agree or concur with her there, but I will love her and I will love the beautiful devotion to Our Lord that she shows through her prayers and through her corporal works of mercy. I doubt seriously that St. Peter or Jesus will be standing at the gates of heaven and say, "Well, I see that you fed, clothed, provided shelter for and nursed the poor of your parish, but you DID think there should be female priests--begone from here."

Thanks to Tom Abbott of Goodform for pointing it out. (You might consider going there and reading his breakfast post--very interesting and a sign of some of the good that can come out of blogging.)

Cause for Rejoicing I rejoice

Cause for Rejoicing

I rejoice in the fact that my off-the-cuff apologia for nearly continuous logorrhia has elicited such profound and sympathetic responses. There is great material for reflection in the comments box attached to the post referenced above. Thank you all for your insights and kind words. Until God calls me to not write (as eventually He did St. Thomas Aquinas--or so one assumes), I shall continue, hopefully obedient to the small talent He has seen fit to grant me.

On the Pursuit of Truth

On the Pursuit of Truth

Marvelous post Chez Kairos this morning , on the pursuit of truth. I was tempted to simply copy the whole thing, but that would not be respectful nor courteous. So please go and read it. I reprint my response to the post here, because I think it makes a nice diptych with the previous post.

Not looking for the Bulverism, I cannot but agree with the essential premise. One must be willing to abandon all for the Truth, because in the end the Truth is All in All. We find many little "truths" but, if they are valid, they will always be signposts for The Way, the Truth, and the Life. The point of any argument or any discussion of integrity, or indeed of any purposeful and meaningful activity on Earth is to find this Truth. Without it, all else is dross, faded finery, and ultimately flames of woe.

Aside: While we're on the subject of Kairos, I hope you are all are praying for Kairos and family as they enter this transitional time. In addition, extra prayers for Mrs. Kairos and Kairos baby are in order. I should post this every day, but my laziness and seive-like memory know no bounds.

On the Necessity of Standards

On the Necessity of Standards

Yesterday, in a comment on my post regarding Christian writing, an anonymous commenter pointed out that there is large leeway for appreciation of literature and one need not brush aside what might well be truly entertaining and edifying work. Once again, I paraphrase, but I hope charitably, and there is much to recommend this statement. However, it is critical for the Christian to realize that we are not allowed this aesthetic distance or this removal from the arts and culture.

The case we were talking about concerned explicitly "Christian Fiction." Dylan offered two quotes that crown and summarize my ruminations of yesterday. But also provide a springboard into the discussion of standards necessary and proper to the realm of literature and the necessity for upholding those standards--strenuously if pressed.

from Dylan's Comments The relevant Merton sentence (it seems applicable to fiction as well) would be : "A Catholic poet should be an apostle by being first of all a poet, not try to be a poet by being first of all an apostle. For if he presents himself to people as a poet, he is going to be judged as a poet and if he is not a good one his apostolate will be ridiculed."

Not all that far from Oscar Wilde's dictum that there are no moral or immoral works of art, only good ones and bad ones, that is, artistic and inartistic.

The first of these quotes will be the basis of the remainder of this discussion because the second (which is a paraphrase, but does sound very much like one of the late 19th century decadents) must be regarded as erroneous. There are, of course, moral and immoral works of art. The writings of the Marquis de Sade, of Sacher-Masoch, and even of J.K. Huymans (I'm thinking here of Lá-Bas and Au Rebours) can be regarded as patently immoral in genesis, content, and consequence. There is little or nothing salutary in the works of the Marquis de Sade, although the writing itself is not bad--the impulse of the writing is immoral and the stimulation of prurient interest of a untoward sort distinctly immoral. Judged by criteria of impulse and likely result, one must conclude that a work can be immoral. So too, works can be moral. If the result of reading the Bible is a lifting of the hearts and minds to God, one must regard the work itself as a moral work. So I cast aside the first part of Wilde's assertion as the excess of his time. The second part, however, is also true. You can have very, very fine immoral works--works of profound aesthetic beauty that are corrupt at core--and these are tremendously dangerous. Nothing leaps directly to mind with this regard because most of the very fine writing I know is at least a mixed bag of things and often would come out on the side of moral work. But I do acknowledge the possibility. And you can have dreadful moral works. Indeed, the vast majority of what is trotted out for us as exemplary "moral" fiction is so aesthetically awful as to call into question the nobility of morality. One classic example of this are the works of Samuel Richardson. Even given that the novel as such was hardly a genre, beginning just to assume a form, Pamela was deemed such a wretched excess of a work that Henry Fielding was moved to write his magnificent parody Shamela.

That said, one must also acknowledge that profoundly moral works can be quite beautiful. And this is part of the point of holding up standards. I have no beef with people who choose to read Left Behind and even to recommend it to others. I suppose the work can support one's faith, and I have heard tell that it has even convinced some to return to the Church. These are good works. However, I am impelled to point out that this is not the work I want to exemplify Christianity in fiction (for my purposes from now on, I will refer to this genre as Christian Fiction, not meaning the contemporary genre of fiction written by Christians for other Christians, but fiction written by a Christian, not necessarily with the purpose of evangelization, but with a profound sense of the Christian view of the world--works exemplified by the writings of Walker Percy, Flannery O'Connor, and Evelyn Waugh.) One of the reasons I do not wish for this to happen is that people get the notion that Christians are incapable of producing anything worthy of our attention.

To see what I mean, look at Religious Art, Architecture, and Music from roughly 1300 to the present day. One hardly sees a vestige of the grandeur of Chartres in most modern Architecture. Where are the Raphaels, the Botticellis, the Carravagios? Our standards have declined, due in large part to the onslaught of modernism, but also tainted by relativism in recent times. "One mans dreck is another man's art." This, ultimate relativist statement is one that should not be allowed to taint the vocabulary of ideas we carry with us. There is room for legitimate disagreement about what constitutes art. But there are also standards, which when not met, exclude a work from serious consideration. One would hardly wish to compare Left Behind (which, as bad as the writing is is hardly the worst of its type) to Dorothy Sayers, much less to Shakespeare. If Left Behind had the quality of Dorothy Sayers in any of its myriad points, I would argue that it was at least first rank popular fiction, if not literature.

Another difficulty that has made discernment of quality very difficult is the phenomenon of fandom--of flocking together for the protection on one variety of writing or another against a perceived hostility from the outside world. An exhibition of this phenomenon occurred when the "Best Catholic Novel/Novelist" award recently went to Bud McFarlane. I don't wish to detract from Mr. MacFarlane's very valuable ministry, but his fiction is such to make Left Behind look like Jane Austen. From wooden writing, plot, and character, all meant to be pedagogical and evangelical in some sense, to ponderous length, Mr. MacFarlane's work leaves one aching for the days when one could look forward to Endo's next work. To award such an title to Mr. MacFarlane is simply a matter of fandom and not a matter of truly evaluating great Catholic Writing. While I have yet to read any of David Lodge, I am informed that he is a very fine writer. Ron Hansen, Jon Hassler, Muriel Spark, and Torgny Lindgren all leap to mind for contenders, and far better contenders for a "Best Catholic Novelist" award. Their works are highly literate, tightly written, and stirring. Most of them would probably not make inroads into "popular fiction," and that perhaps is what we should consider the award given to Mr. MacFarlane.

At some time in the future, I will take the time to carefully spell out just what my objections are to this writing that I find less than exemplary. But for the time being, I stand by my contention that it is necessary and salutary to evaluate even "Catholic" works, whatever they may be, by the rule one would bring to any work of literature. We do not glorify God, nor do we produce any reasonable argument or persuasion to God's way by committing literary crimes. Speaking as one who was finally led back to the Truth by the powerful words and works of Gerard Manley Hopkins and C.S. Lewis, had I first encountered works of the caliber of Left Behind I would have fled the scene immediately. One, quite unfairly, tends to associate the quality of such works with their inspiration, and from that one could only produce a picture of a God of profound and irredeemable Mediocrity. Fortunately there is sufficient evidence elsewhere that this is not the case, and it is the cause of current Catholic and Christian writers to show that the God we worship is ever a God of Glory, Beauty, and Power who is, in fact, beautiful beyond the most beautiful image we can muster, and worthy of all praise, thought, and love. If we write about a God who is anything less, we deprive others of their rightful heritage. This is not to say that all such work should be condemned, because it certainly has its purpose and its audience, but it also should not be extolled. When we write of Christian Fiction and literature, we should demand of it what we would demand of any other work of literature, coherence, beauty, power, interest, and intelligence. We must not abdicate our standards to relativist proposals. We need to support writers who write about the Christian experience and demand of them their very finest work. We owe this to the present world in disarray and to posterity that will come to treasure such works, as we treasure works of the past.

This returns us to Merton's quote above, "A Catholic poet should be an apostle by being first of all a poet, not try to be a poet by being first of all an apostle. For if he presents himself to people as a poet, he is going to be judged as a poet and if he is not a good one his apostolate will be ridiculed."

The only legitimate way to argue for the Catholic life, is to live it to the full and to allow it to infiltrate every part of our being. Then the exercise of our writing--our poems, essays, and novels--will ring out with an authentic Catholicity as well as a profound aesthetic beauty that will be all the more convincing for its appeal. Live your faith and inevitably you must write it because it becomes an inseparable part of you.

A Liturgical Know-Nothing That's how

A Liturgical Know-Nothing

That's how I think of myself. So long as Jesus is treated in a manner appropriate to Lord and King, I don't get too upset with the doodads and hangers on. Yes, I know there are arguments against holding hands during the "Our Father," against female altar servers, against kneeling or not kneeling, receiving on the tongue or not doing so--but most of that stuff is simply incidental to my participation in the Divine Presence. However, some things simply cross the line and today I saw one such.

After distributing communion the Priest and an extraordinary minister stood in the middle of the aisle and unceremoniously dumped Jesus from one serving vessel into a ciborium. I was shocked and aghast. What if they had spilled Him to the floor, if they had dropped the sacred vessels? What sense of the sacred does this convey to the congregation? Is this allowed? Is this appropriate?

I recalled my daily Masses in Northern Virginia, where the Stigmatine Priest had all sorts of special cloths and packages for the sacred vessels and the normal cloths that went with them. They took the cloth that commonly lays on the altar under the vessels that contain the Matter, and folded it carefully and placed it in a gold-embossed kind of cloth folder. Then they took a magnificent cloth-of-gold veil that the placed over the chalice--the folder was placed on the chalice and the two carried away with all due ceremony. In addition the priests spent a goodly amount of time cleaning the vessels. I had a distinct sense of the understanding of the sacred under these conditions. But what I witnessed this afternoon suggested the attitude of stock-brokers in Scrooge--a middle-of-the-street haggle.

Now, to be fair, this doesn't happen often--this is the first time I've seen it in two years. But it should not happen EVER. It seems to me that all due consideration and caution should be observed when handling the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of the Lord. I know that Jesus forgives this little slip-up, but I sometimes wonder if perhaps stricter observance to things that are not so critical might not make people more aware of the meaning of their actions. I'm sure I'm overreacting, but I was horrified, and I guess scandalized--particularly if I see fit now to comment upon it.

Not for Sheep. . .

Not for Sheep. . .

Please visit Not for Sheep. I was fascinated at similarities to my own story.

Reflections on Blogging It staggers

Reflections on Blogging

It staggers my imagination that anyone should want to look a second time at anything that I post here. I don't know if anyone does. But if not, that begs a question: if all of this is ephemera, why write? And once again, I'm back to the oldest of old answers, an answer that one who is not so driven cannot even begin to fathom--I cannot NOT write. There is no choice. So even if no one ever gives a single word here a second glance, I am "assured" a momentary first time audience and the writing is seen by more people than see what is present in my notebooks. Whether it does them any good or not is up to them to decide. But for me writing is the critical thing, and like prayer (should be) even when I am not writing, I am writing. It is a twenty-four/seven activity with no pause or reprieve. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now. . . to get my prayer life to function the same way.

Dialogue of the Carmelites The

Dialogue of the Carmelites

The blogmeister at Cacciaguida has the remarkably good taste to post excerpts from Bernano's Play/Libretto to Dialogue of the Carmelites. This is the story of the Martyrs of Compèigne, also compelling told in William Bush's very fine To Quell the Terror (available from ICS publications--see left column). I've read that Bernanos based much of his work on an earlier work Song at the Scaffold by Gertrude von le Fort. I have not been able to read this latter work, but it is still in print, and, inevitably perhaps, on my list. Meanwhile, enjoy these brief excerpts of the Dialogue.

Personal Note: It takes perhaps a more refined muscial taste than my own to truly appreciate Poulenc's work--it seems much too dissonant and twelve-tonish to my untrained ears, but I could be misremembering. I do recall my initial reaction was about the same as my reaction to Alban Berg's Wozzeck but then my taste in Modern Classical Music is extremely narrow. Trust those who are better informed in these matters.

A Lesser-Known Carmelite Saint I

A Lesser-Known Carmelite Saint

I do not blog lives of Saints or such things, as there are many blogs that do a far better job of it than I could do. However, I chanced upon this wonderful reference to a lesser known Carmelite Saint--Saint Peter Thomas, at Mr. Cahill's blog. Visit and learn more.

Urgent and Ongoing Prayers Needed

Urgent and Ongoing Prayers Needed

Please pray for my very dear friends Katherine and her family as they are suffering through some significant hardships at the present time. Pray for healing and for transformation in the family and for God's grace and illumination on their path in life. Thank you.

Being a Writer I work,

Being a Writer

I work, after a fashion, as a writer--although that is not my title. However, I have always been a writer. There are a number of us blogging--people who write, not because they like to, but because NOT writing simply isn't a possibility. Even if we were not composing weblogs, we would be writing something. Some of us have shelves full of notebooks that consist of sketches, stories, poems, and writing from all times and ages. Some of us are actually published--some of us aspire to be published in a way that actually brings in some money. But there are several, perhaps many writers in the community.

One of the most difficult aspects of being a writer is the need to serve as your own agent for a while--the need to put forth your work. To some extent the artists of visual media have an easier time of it. You might have difficulty getting a gallery showing, but once there, people can see the merits of the work. A writer's work is a good deal more difficult to evaluate. It is an art-form that is not readily reduced to the level of visual impact, liking or disliking. As a result, relatively few writers are published. Those that are usually have a proven track record. A track record that often, as the writing continues, develops into a self-indulgent oeuvre that editors fear to touch. And there is another problem--it seems that the current crop of editors and copy editors needs some work. So much homage is paid the almighty dollar, that the most excessively self-indulgent whims of a Stephen King, or a Stephen Jay Gould are indulged in order to put the work before the public.

Sturgeon's law notes that 90% of everything is rubbish. That includes much of the writing that is in the world at large. I go to a bookstore crammed full of new releases and find vanishingly few that are really worthy of the attention that they are getting. But worse than this--I pay far more attention to these things than they are really worth. How is what I am reading affecting my relationship with God. Many of us excuse some of the most deplorable habits in reading and in viewing popular culture with the excuse that it is merely entertainment--we can't be "on" twenty-four hours a day. And I think it is in that that we err. The Saints had their recreations and without doubt did their share of reading. St Teresa of Avila even confessed to having a fondness for the courtly "novels" of her day. A fact that she rued because it took time away from what she should have been focusing on.

As a writer, I am concerned about contributing to this vast deluge of dreck. I am concerned, but not overmuch. Part of our mission is to bring Christian concerns into real writing and to bring Christ to the masses. Now, much of this is done in such an enormously heavy-handed way that no one in their right minds would consider for a moment taking any of it seriously. For those who have not yet indulged themselves, glance at the hideous prose and endless religious hammering of the Left Behind series, a series guaranteed to alienate you from Jesus if you believe that this is the kind of art and entertainment that must extol Him. We have lost a sense of the Christian novel, precisely because culturally we have lost a sense of what it means to be "in the world but not of the world." I read the "Christian" novels of John Updike and I am left wondering--what manner of Jesus does he believe in? Where is the Christian worldview that permeates each of his works (supposedly). My conclusion is merely that he represents the New York Review of Books and New York Times view of acceptable, liberal Christianity.

Those of us who write need to make our voices heard after the fashion of Flannery O'Connor, and Walker Percy. We need to reconstruct truly Christian novels with Christian themes that give the reader a glimpse of the majesty of Jesus, not those that drub the reader about the head and shoulders with characters that drip piety and act like everyone else in the world around them. The Christian novel used to be the norm--it was the understood understructure of every piece of writing because it was the understood platform that held up the entire western world. Not so any more. Faith itself is practically a vanished commodity. Where is does appear, it is often an enemy or an agent of intolerance and misunderstanding.

What Christian writers need to do is first to live fundamentally Christian lives, steeped in an understanding of what that really means. While we can be aware of popular culture, it is probably salutary not to indulge in much of it. We need to understand what makes great writing and what persuades people. Finally, we need to make the reality of Jesus Christ known to people. The reality that penetrates a life in Christ should be translated to the page and made real for the reader. Augusta Trobaugh comes to mind as someone whose novels are permeated with faith, belief, and the Christian Ethos, but who doesn't feel the need to have someone falling on their knees every two pages and uttering a long, rambling, and largely idiotic prayer to Jesus in Mars' drag. The reality of a faith-life is that we do not fall down on our knees every forty-five minutes (though perhaps we would be better off for doing so) and yet we can carry on a conversation and a communion with God on a fairly constant basis.

We have a number of writers here, and I (to my great shame) have not yet read much of the work. (Don't do much in the way of internet commerce since two of my friends had their entire bank accounts wiped out for a couple of months thanks to internet transactions). That is a next step. Ms. Lively ran an excellent Catholic Writing discussion group over at Yahoo in days of yore, and now maintains her own blog and a number of other sites centered around Christian and specifically Catholic writing. Those who are seriously considering Christian and Catholic Fiction writing would do well to check out some of these sites and works. Those looking to apologetics would do well to check out the finest in apologetic writing because you cannot write what you do not love. If you aren't a "fan" of serious Christian writing, you should not consider trying to write for others. If you do not care for the great classics of the faith and for the serious writing of the present day then it would do writing a better service to find a field that you do care for and work it as carefully and as exactingly as possible. We do no credit to Jesus when we write reams of junk prose extolling His virtues. Christian Writing is doubly exacting because it calls us to both the highest standards of writing and the highest standards of living. Our writing can only reflect our living--we rarely rise above ourselves--we must be lifted up and it is far better for this to happen through the Holy Spirit than through the Aesthetic spirit.

People of the Worst Case

People of the Worst Case

We have ever been a people of the worst case. It is easy to track in our popular entertainments. In the late sixties/early seventies we had The Late Great State of California that had people buying "beach-front property" in Nevada in the expectation that California would slide off into the sea. In recent years we have had meteor impacts (Armageddon and Deep Impact, plague The Hot Zone, Twelve Monkeys and Outbreak (among others). We have this tendency to look for and expect the worst. I sometimes wonder if this isn't a spin-off of Toffler's Future Shock--the rate of change is so great that we expect everything to snowball. And of course, these things are not completely outside the realm of possibility.

But sometimes these fears are magnified, played upon, and manipulated for purposes that defy understanding at the time. And we need to be wary of that manipulation. We must always be aware of the possibility, but we must not buy into the hysteria that is a desirable commodity among those who are issuing the propaganda. I'm always a little suspicious of any message that starts with a "Don't Panic" warning. Obviously, we are being told that there is something worth panicking over. We live in uncertain times--if we spend all of our time in uncertainty, it will be deadly not only to our emotional lives but to our spiritual lives.

All of this by way of prelude. Our security is not here and now. The human tendency is to cling to the here and now--it is what we can see and what we can hold. Here and now is where we live--but it isn't the end of life because one day we shall live in eternity which is the only security. All human things shall fail--all human concerns shall pass away. They must be dealt with as they happen--and certainly there is no harm in making provision for them by way of insurance and wills. But the truth is that our knowledge is limited, our understandings not crystal clear, we do not see very far into the future, and what we do see is obscured by our own prejudices and agendas. Rather than looking to the future and to what may happen and what might be, we would do far better to look to Who Was, and Is, and Is to Come. In that Person there is assurance, security, certainty--a future we know and believe in completely. God is our Father and it is His great desire to welcome us back into the Family of His Son. With such a Father, why would we worry so about all of these human things.

The hard truth is that we will all die. We will all "lose" loved-ones. We will all suffer great hardships, such that all other ordeals seem inconsequential. And we can either do this on our own, or we can do this in complete confidence of God our Savior. We can spend our time worrying about all the possible contingencies of our age, or we can rely on God and pursue our lives in the here and now, understanding that the unexpected may happen, and like the wise Virgins, keeping the lamp stocked with the oil of prayer and spiritual and corporal works of mercy.

The times are uncertain--we do not know what lies ahead. But we do know that whatever is there, Jesus is Lord of History, Lord of Our Time and All Time. With complete confidence in Him, instilled through meditation, fasting, and prayer, we can move ahead into whatever the future holds knowing that it little matters what transpires in our brief lifetimes, "Men are like grass in bloom today, fuel for the fire tomorrow," because the real matters are matters of the spirit--matters beyond the selfish and self-involved concerns of the moment, matter of eternity.

On the Word Irenic

On the Word Irenic

I really like the word irenic because it appears to embody a paradox. Etymologically it is completely separate from the seeming cognate that makes up the first syllable and a half. Irenic and ire have nearly opposite meanings, and yet, the one word comprises 50% of the other. If you did not know the meaning and had no dictionary to hand and someone referred to some else as irenic, you might make a conjunction with splenitic, and thus conclude that the personality involved was prone to anger.

Trivial, I know, but the kinds of things that flutter through the mind of one who really, really loves the English Language. (Though there are days that you would be hard-pressed to tell it from the quality of the entries on this blog).

We should all strive to be irenic persons. Or perhaps ironic persons. (That was my second thought on seeing the word for the first time--someone had a typo!)

Irenic and ire, all the difference in the world from their Greek and Latin (respectively) roots. Sometimes it is good to let the roots show.

Pray Early and Pray Often

Pray Early and Pray Often

Rumors of impending difficulties have become much louder in the past few days. Many reservists are being called to active duty. These men and women and their families need our prayers and our support. For the men and women engaged in action, our constant support of prayer and fasting (we can sacrifice a little for the spiritual benefit of those who sacrifice much). For those left behind, our emotional, physical, temporal, and if necessary financial support. Some few make a tremendous sacrifice on behalf of all of us.

Most particularly, please pray for Mr. Eric Johnson, a contributor to the Catholic Light blog--a man with two probably youngish children and a third expected within five weeks. Unfortunately he will be leaving for active duty within the week and not returning, so far as he can tell, for six months or more. Please remember him and his family in your prayers.

Dejection--At Long Last, an End

Dejection--At Long Last, an End

Here's the final portion of the ode:

from Dejection: An Ode Samuel Taylor Coleridge

VII
            Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
                       Reality's dark dream!
            I turn from you, and listen to the wind,
                  Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream
            Of agony by torture lengthened out
            That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav'st without,
                Bare crag, or mountain-tairn, or blasted tree,
          Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb,
          Or lonely house, long held the witches' home,
                Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
          Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,
          Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers,
          Mak'st Devils' yule, with worse than wintry song,
          The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.
                Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds!
          Thou mighty Poet, e'en to frenzy bold!
                     What tell'st thou now about?
                     'Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,
                With groans, of trampled men, with smarting wounds--
          At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold!
          But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!
                And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
          With groans, and tremulous shudderings--all is over--
                It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!
                     A tale of less affright,
                     And tempered with delight,
          As Otway's self had framed the tender lay,--
                     'Tis of a little child
                     Upon a lonesome wild,
          Nor far from home, but she hath lost her way:
          And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,
          And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.
VIII
          'Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep:
          Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep!
          Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing,
                And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
          May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
                Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth!
                     With light heart may she rise,
                     Gay fancy, cheerful eyes,
                Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice;
          To her may all things live, from pole to pole,
          Their life the eddying of her living soul!
                O simple spirit, guided from above,
          Dear Lady! friend devoutest of my choice,
          Thus mayest thou ever, evermore rejoice.

On Heresy For a markedly

On Heresy

For a markedly sane and gentle chiding of some of the recent goings-on here, please see this post. While this is an extension of some of the discussion, I would be the first to say that later error does not abrogate solid early writing (thus my defense of Merton and DeMello). But I particularly like,

In my own limited exposure to modern theologians, I've found I'm far less likely to be convinced of error than to fail, more or less entirely, to understand what I read. This contributes to a suspicion that modern heresy hunting consists in saying, "Don't read Rahner," to people who wouldn't read Rahner for a dollar a minute.

Just because God is simple and salvation is simple, it doesn't follow that theology -- much less the language of theology -- is simple. Maybe that's why there are corporeal and spiritual works of mercy, but no literary or speculative works of mercy.

Quite a salutary course correction. One is compelled to explain that as a former protestant (this one at least) one is constantly concerned that he may be straying off into the fields of heresy and inadvertantly teaching error--perhaps one of the reasons I spend much time being very cautious regarding what I read and recommend. But Mr. Da Fiesole is correct, for the vast majority of us the wells of Schillebeekx and Rahner are perhaps a trifle overdeep, and a good deal too turgid for deep draughts or even shallow sips. We need not concern ourselves with Pope's warning:

A little learning is a dang'rous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again.

As most of us are well content to leave that spring alone. Thank you Mr. da Fiesole.

And Another An interesting and

And Another

An interesting and euphonious short poem with some slant rhyme and half rhyme nice cadence as well. From Ron, blogmeister of The 7 Habitus.

A Lovely and Unusual Poem

A Lovely and Unusual Poem

From the blogmeister at Sainteros: nothing more to say, just read it here. My thanks to the poet for sharing it with us.

Epiphany/Happy Birthday This is the

Epiphany/Happy Birthday

This is the day Epiphany used to be celebrated, and may still be celebrated in the Orthodox church--although I'm thrown off by the whole Gregoiran/revised Julian thing that goes on there. But it IS the anniversary of the birthday of St. Gaspar del Bufalo--my prayers and best wishes for a wonderful day to all of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood and their lay affiliates. Thank you for being part of St. Blogs and contributing so heavily to the wonderful spiritual writing here!

Fr. Rahner, continued As part

Fr. Rahner, continued

As part of my penance for introducing the topic and for any part I may have had in contributing to continuing misunderstanding of his writing and work, I will track what others have said they would offer. And I start with this post chez Father Jim recording a few remarks of Fr. Rahner on the Eucharist. I was amazed at the unusual clarity and lack of usual apparatus in the writing. (Even if there are no problems with Fr. Rahner as a theologian, his writing is often quite (forgive me Matthias) Germanic in its elaborate construction, and frequently festooned about with the technical language of the theologian, with the ultimate result that reading a single page can often require more effort than an entire chapter of Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy." (On a huge aside--there is an electronic version of the latter in preparation and when it emerges as an e-file I do plan to regale you with some of its insights). The reflection on the Eucharist is disarmingly direct and powerful. Please go and enjoy. It would seem to me that if this is truly Fr. Rahner's thoughts on the matter, no one could possibly contest his belief in what the substance of the Eucharist is. I see no indication that he regards it merely as a sign or a symbol or anything other than the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord.

Many thanks to Fr. Jim for posting this.

Actions Speak Louder than Words

Actions Speak Louder than Words

And I think that is true in the spiritual life as well. We have a number of readers who are seeking to enter the Catholic Church, and with that seeking (depending upon the background from which the people emerge) there are often difficulties with some of the teachings of the Church. Sometimes, particularly when we are uncertain of a teaching or uncertain of our own belief, we need to take positive action that would result in a positive change. Sometimes we may doubt God's mercy or His loving kindness. Our doubts come, from our experience of ourselves. We know that we are not so good and not so unalloyed. However, when we act upon something as a matter of truth, we are transformed. Sometimes we may have trouble with a doctrine or an idea put forth by the Church. If we act upon it, however mildly and place it in God's hands, we can be converted, through grace alone, to the reality of the supernatural world.

An example from my life: I was raised a Baptist and entered the Catholic Church not fully in tune with all aspects of Catholic Doctrine. Most particularly, I was virulently anti-Marian. Through time, I came to be cooly neutral but said to myself, "This is not enough." So I took up the practice of praying to God to reveal to me what He would have me know of His Mother and I bowed before her statue with an "I salute you, even if I am unsure of you." Through time the "I salute you" became, "I love you." And, of course, the other half of the phrase vanished entirely. I did nothing myself to encourage that love, but now I have an image of Mary in nearly every room of my house and feel that those places lacking Marian presence are somehow empty. I went through the outward motions--obedience, after a fashion--and God did as He would with the interior. We must act on belief and pray for the interior change that makes that out action more real. We are finite--as much as we like to think we know it all, we do not--and there is no shame in not knowing. The shame comes from insisting upon our ignorance and acting upon it in such a way as to cause scandal and division.

Continued--Dejection I was so fond

Continued--Dejection

I was so fond of the sound of the poem yesterday, that I thought I would "serilaize" in order to make it more palatable to modern audiences. Sometimes long poems are daunting. But they should not be. One need read only what one can at a sitting and one may return to it. Dejection is not so long that the whole of it cannot be read in say ten minutes or so. But our schools have so firmly entrenched in our society a fear of poetry such that if a poem should run longer than a sonnet most people run screaming. So, now on to our feature.

from Dejection:An Ode
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

IV 
        O Lady! we receive but what we give,
          And in our life alone does Nature live:
            Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud!
                  And would we aught behold, of higher worth,
            Than that inanimate cold world allowed
            To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd,
                  Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
            A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
                       Enveloping the Earth--
            And from the soul itself must there be sent
                  A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth,
            Of all sweet sounds the life and element!

V
            O pure of heart! thou need'st not ask of me
            What this strong music in the soul may be!
            What, and wherein it doth exist,
            This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,
            This beautiful and beauty-making power.
                  Joy, virtuous Lady! Joy that ne'er was given,
            Save to the pure, and in their purest hour,
            Life, and Life's effluence, cloud at once and shower,
            Joy, Lady! is the spirit and the power,
            Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower
                  A new Earth and new Heaven,
            Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud--
            Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud--
                       We in ourselves rejoice!
            And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,
                  All melodies the echoes of that voice,
            All colours a suffusion from that light.
VI
            There was a time when, though my path was rough,
                  This joy within me dallied with distress,
            And all misfortunes were but as the stuff
                  Whence Fancy made me dreams of happiness:
            For hope grew round me, like the twining vine,
            And fruits, and foliage, not my own, seemed mine.
            But now afflictions bow me down to earth:
            Nor care I that they rob me of my mirth;
                       But oh! each visitation
            Suspends what nature gave me at my birth,
                  My shaping spirit of Imagination.
            For not to think of what I needs must feel,
                  But to be still and patient, all I can;
            And haply by abstruse research to steal
                  From my own nature all the natural man--
                  This was my sole resource, my only plan:
            Till that which suits a part infects the whole,
            And now is almost grown the habit of my soul.

An Offering for a Friend

An Offering for a Friend

One of the great poets of the Romantic Age:

from Dejection: An Ode Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Dejection: An Ode

Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms;
And I fear, I fear, my Master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm.
(Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence)

I

Well! If the Bard was weather-wise, who made
The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence,
This night, so tranquil now, will not go hence
Unroused by winds, that ply a busier trade
Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes,
Or the dull sobbing draft, that moans and rakes
Upon the strings of this {AE}olian lute,
Which better far were mute.
For lo! the New-moon winter-bright!
And overspread with phantom light,
(With swimming phantom light o'erspread
But rimmed and circled by a silver thread)
I see the old Moon in her lap, foretelling
The coming-on of rain and squally blast.
And oh! that even now the gust were swelling,
And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast!
Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,
And sent my soul abroad,
Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give,
Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live!
II

A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,
A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief,
Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,
In word, or sigh, or tear--
O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood,
To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,
All this long eve, so balmy and serene,
Have I been gazing on the western sky,
And its peculiar tint of yellow green:
And still I gaze--and with how blank an eye!
And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars,
That give away their motion to the stars;
Those stars, that glide behind them or between,
Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen:
Yon crescent Moon, as fixed as if it grew
In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue;
I see them all so excellently fair
I see, not feel, how beautiful they are!
III

My genial spirits fail;
And what can these avail
To lift the smothering weight from off my breast?
It were a vain endeavour,
Though I should gaze for ever
On that green light that lingers in the west:
I may not hope from outward forms to win
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.

How many of us actually remember that there is an emotion called dejection? A state of being that is suspended somewhere in the vicinity of depression and melancholy, but which is also different in ways difficult to describe. So, here is the beginning of one of the most famous descriptions of this state of being, and one of the loveliest poems about emotions other than love in English.

Lauds and Vespers in Latin

Lauds and Vespers in Latin

Many who are interested may already be aware, but there are perhaps some who are not, that Lauds and Vespers in Latin have been published by Sceptre Publishers (the press that does much of the Opus Dei/Josemaria Escriva publishing). I just found it today and snapped it up. As configured it is only really good for Ordinary Time as all the seasonal antiphons and responses are missing. But for Ordinary Time and for a compact edition, it has much worthwhile.

In addition to the obvious pluses of having Latin and English, it is edited by Fr. Peter Stravinskas, whom I have come to trust on matters liturgical--he seems to be balanced in his opinions and practices (balanced, but leaning very heavily on the side of tradition.) This will likely become the edition I cart to and from work each day and that I take with me on business trips. Another plus is that the English Translation leans heavily on the RSV-CE, which means overall a more euphonious psalter.