Messianic wibble watch
Another Brit is on to him.
Via Andrew Sullivan, who has fallen for the wibble, hook, line & sinker.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
My own perfidy
[untitled]
by José García Villa (1908-97)
My most. My most. O my lost!
O my bright, my ineradicable ghost.
At whose bright coast God seeks
Shelter and is lost is lost. O
Coast of Brightness. O cause of
Grief. O rose of purest grief.
O thou in my breast so stark and
Holy-bright. O thou melancholy
Light. Me. Me. My own perfidy.
O my most my most. O the bright
The beautiful, the terrible Accost.
From A Book of the Winter, ed. Dame Edith Sitwell (Vanguard, 1951), p. 41.
by José García Villa (1908-97)
My most. My most. O my lost!
O my bright, my ineradicable ghost.
At whose bright coast God seeks
Shelter and is lost is lost. O
Coast of Brightness. O cause of
Grief. O rose of purest grief.
O thou in my breast so stark and
Holy-bright. O thou melancholy
Light. Me. Me. My own perfidy.
O my most my most. O the bright
The beautiful, the terrible Accost.
From A Book of the Winter, ed. Dame Edith Sitwell (Vanguard, 1951), p. 41.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Triads
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
Who am I to load the year with continual misunderstanding?
I will not accuse winter of a protracted hardness,
Nor spring of callousness, nor summer of regret.
The oak-leaf changes; green gloss cups the acorn.
First hidden, then emerging from resistance to statement,
The fruit holds nothing in its fullness but the tree.
To have held through hail, stormwinds, and black frost in darkness
Through the long months, gives meaning to the bud when it opens.
Song loses nothing of moments that are past.
So my labour is still: it is still determination
To resolve itself slowly in the weathers of knowledge.
By virtue of the hidden the poem is revealed.
Remember Earth's triads: the faith of a dumb animal,
The mountain stream falling, music to the wheat-ears;
The salt wave echoing the grieving of the bones.
The lamb leaps: it is stubborn in its innocence.
The hawk drops, in the energy of instinct,
Dawn fires kindle perfection like a sword.
Fires: the hawk's talons, the tongue of the chameleon,
In a peacock's wings' lightning the contraction of glory,
In death the last miracle, the unconditional gift.
What do I need but patience before the unpredictable,
The endurance of the stepping-stone before the footprint,
Cadence that reconciles wisdom and the dance?
I need more, I need more. In the moment of perception
Fit me, prayer, to lose everything, that nothing may be lost.
The stone that accumulates history is falling.
History is a pageant, and all men belong to it.
We die into each other: remember how many
Confided their love, not in vain, to the same earth.
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
Who am I to load the year with continual misunderstanding?
I will not accuse winter of a protracted hardness,
Nor spring of callousness, nor summer of regret.
The oak-leaf changes; green gloss cups the acorn.
First hidden, then emerging from resistance to statement,
The fruit holds nothing in its fullness but the tree.
To have held through hail, stormwinds, and black frost in darkness
Through the long months, gives meaning to the bud when it opens.
Song loses nothing of moments that are past.
So my labour is still: it is still determination
To resolve itself slowly in the weathers of knowledge.
By virtue of the hidden the poem is revealed.
Remember Earth's triads: the faith of a dumb animal,
The mountain stream falling, music to the wheat-ears;
The salt wave echoing the grieving of the bones.
The lamb leaps: it is stubborn in its innocence.
The hawk drops, in the energy of instinct,
Dawn fires kindle perfection like a sword.
Fires: the hawk's talons, the tongue of the chameleon,
In a peacock's wings' lightning the contraction of glory,
In death the last miracle, the unconditional gift.
What do I need but patience before the unpredictable,
The endurance of the stepping-stone before the footprint,
Cadence that reconciles wisdom and the dance?
I need more, I need more. In the moment of perception
Fit me, prayer, to lose everything, that nothing may be lost.
The stone that accumulates history is falling.
History is a pageant, and all men belong to it.
We die into each other: remember how many
Confided their love, not in vain, to the same earth.
Affinities
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
I find them in the wings of every age
While fools and rhetoricians hold the stage.
They know instinctively that speculation
Will never reach a single true equation.
There is no theory, however strict,
A work of genius cannot contradict.
Who pulls tradition down and sets up fashion?
Pretence is one thing, and another, passion.
In every smith whose work I come across
Tradition is the ore, fashion the dross.
They who skim ice cannot afford to stumble;
If pausing they went through, they might grow humble.
Pretenders mock the dead to make their mark,
As little children shout who fear the dark.
'His work is new. Why, then, his name encumber
With ancient poets?' He is of their number.
Complain against the dead, but do not sue.
They never read you, much less injured you.
Must it be anarchy to love that nation
Which counts among its assets inspiration?
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
I find them in the wings of every age
While fools and rhetoricians hold the stage.
They know instinctively that speculation
Will never reach a single true equation.
There is no theory, however strict,
A work of genius cannot contradict.
Who pulls tradition down and sets up fashion?
Pretence is one thing, and another, passion.
In every smith whose work I come across
Tradition is the ore, fashion the dross.
They who skim ice cannot afford to stumble;
If pausing they went through, they might grow humble.
Pretenders mock the dead to make their mark,
As little children shout who fear the dark.
'His work is new. Why, then, his name encumber
With ancient poets?' He is of their number.
Complain against the dead, but do not sue.
They never read you, much less injured you.
Must it be anarchy to love that nation
Which counts among its assets inspiration?
George F. Will
turns a jaundiced eye toward Romney's chances:
The whole thing can be found here.
Addendum : I've never heard that Cummings line before. Does anyone know the poem?
turns a jaundiced eye toward Romney's chances:
If McCain, who in 2000 won Michigan after winning New Hampshire, takes it again on Tuesday, Romney will be, in E.E. Cummings's words, "a recent footprint in the sand of was."And the Clintons remind him of Led Zeppelin's recent reunion concert which "exemplified a tiresome phenomenon -- geezer rock groups catering to baby boomer nostalgia."
The whole thing can be found here.
Addendum : I've never heard that Cummings line before. Does anyone know the poem?
Resting Places
Resting Places
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
The rose divines her night:
White, thrusting roots grasp earth, where light began.
The seashell grinds its mark,
Dark in the cold miles of the naked beach.
Soul in a sculptor's hand
Spanned more desire than schools will ever teach.
Adam lies fast in Rome:
The moment's magnitude brought near to man.
He drew that body's praise,
Gazing on God. What centuries have since
Turned from those eyes to wage
Ageless, destructive war, all worth made cheap.
Hushed in a single nave,
Grave Angelo and Galileo sleep.
From hands of one were born
Morning and Night, who rest beneath their Prince,
While the next hand explored
Orders of stars no naked eye could reach.
There Santa Croce climbs
Time's holy scaffolding where planets spin.
Time turns; and in death camps
Lamps light the way to lampshades made of skin,
Whose dread contracts the brow.
How can we bring the ransom they beseech
Where, as one prisoner falls,
Walls paint in sleep the murder of his kin?
Such blood on Lethe's stream
Dreams cannot purge. Yet ask : what tongue ruled sin?
What put to shame that strumpet?
The trumpet which accompanied brave speech.
by Vernon Watkins (1906-67)
The rose divines her night:
White, thrusting roots grasp earth, where light began.
The seashell grinds its mark,
Dark in the cold miles of the naked beach.
Soul in a sculptor's hand
Spanned more desire than schools will ever teach.
Adam lies fast in Rome:
The moment's magnitude brought near to man.
He drew that body's praise,
Gazing on God. What centuries have since
Turned from those eyes to wage
Ageless, destructive war, all worth made cheap.
Hushed in a single nave,
Grave Angelo and Galileo sleep.
From hands of one were born
Morning and Night, who rest beneath their Prince,
While the next hand explored
Orders of stars no naked eye could reach.
There Santa Croce climbs
Time's holy scaffolding where planets spin.
Time turns; and in death camps
Lamps light the way to lampshades made of skin,
Whose dread contracts the brow.
How can we bring the ransom they beseech
Where, as one prisoner falls,
Walls paint in sleep the murder of his kin?
Such blood on Lethe's stream
Dreams cannot purge. Yet ask : what tongue ruled sin?
What put to shame that strumpet?
The trumpet which accompanied brave speech.
The Love of the Word
On the decline and fall of English prose, to which I doubtless contribute.
From Professor Anthony Esolen at Touchstone's Mere Comments.
On the decline and fall of English prose, to which I doubtless contribute.
From Professor Anthony Esolen at Touchstone's Mere Comments.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Democratic party politics
Kerry to endorse Obama.
Kerry to endorse Obama.
Kerry, a senator from Massachusetts, planned to announce his support Thursday at 11 a.m. EST at a rally at the College of Charleston, said a Democrat familiar with Kerry's decision. The 2004 nominee was to argue that Obama can best unite the country and has the potential to create transformational change, the person said.Transformational change? Golly.
On the occasion
of his 50th birthday, E. Lane Core blogs an apposite poem by Edward Estlin Cummings, with commentary.
of his 50th birthday, E. Lane Core blogs an apposite poem by Edward Estlin Cummings, with commentary.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Gruesome
Something that we should keep in mind about Obama.
Let that last sentence (with its tortured attempts at euphemism that do nothing to hide the reality) sink in.
From the left-leaning Huffington Post.
Something that we should keep in mind about Obama.
Let that last sentence (with its tortured attempts at euphemism that do nothing to hide the reality) sink in.
From the left-leaning Huffington Post.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
I voted for Kucinich
Here.
Barack Obama is in the lead, with Ron Paul second, and John McCain third.
Via The Daily Eudemon.
Addendum : They really should let you vote for more than one candidate.
Here.
Barack Obama is in the lead, with Ron Paul second, and John McCain third.
Via The Daily Eudemon.
Addendum : They really should let you vote for more than one candidate.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Dante Alighieri
from La Vita Nuova, section xxvi
Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare
La donna mia, quand' ella altrui saluta,
Ch' ogne lengua deven tremando muta,
E li occhi no l'ardiscon di guardare.
Ella si va, sentendosi laudare,
Benignamente d'umiltà vestuta;
E par che sia una cosa venuta
Da cielo in terra a miracol mostrare.
Mostrasi si piacente a chi la mira,
Che dà per li occhi una dolcezza al core,
Ch' intender no la può chi no la prova.
E par che dalla sua labbia si mova
Un spirito soave pien d'amore,
Che va dicendo all' anima: sospira.
Translation of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-82):
My lady looks so gentle and so pure
When yielding salutation by the way,
That the tongue trembles and has nought to say,
And the eyes, which fain would see, may not endure.
And still, amid the praise she hears secure,
She walks with humbleness for her array;
Seeming a creature sent from Heaven to stay
On earth, and show a miracle made sure.
She is so pleasant in the eyes of men
That through the sight the inmost heart doth gain
A sweetness which needs proof to know it by:
And from between her lips there seems to move
A soothing spirit that is full of love,
Saying forever to the soul, "O sigh!"
from La Vita Nuova, section xxvi
Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare
La donna mia, quand' ella altrui saluta,
Ch' ogne lengua deven tremando muta,
E li occhi no l'ardiscon di guardare.
Ella si va, sentendosi laudare,
Benignamente d'umiltà vestuta;
E par che sia una cosa venuta
Da cielo in terra a miracol mostrare.
Mostrasi si piacente a chi la mira,
Che dà per li occhi una dolcezza al core,
Ch' intender no la può chi no la prova.
E par che dalla sua labbia si mova
Un spirito soave pien d'amore,
Che va dicendo all' anima: sospira.
Translation of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-82):
My lady looks so gentle and so pure
When yielding salutation by the way,
That the tongue trembles and has nought to say,
And the eyes, which fain would see, may not endure.
And still, amid the praise she hears secure,
She walks with humbleness for her array;
Seeming a creature sent from Heaven to stay
On earth, and show a miracle made sure.
She is so pleasant in the eyes of men
That through the sight the inmost heart doth gain
A sweetness which needs proof to know it by:
And from between her lips there seems to move
A soothing spirit that is full of love,
Saying forever to the soul, "O sigh!"
Cummings
who were so dark of heart they might not speak,
a little innocence will make them sing;
teach them to see who could not learn to look
--from the reality of all nothing
will actually lift a luminous whole;
turn sheer despairing to most perfect gay,
nowhere to here,never to beautiful:
a little innocence creates a day.
And something thought or done or wished without
a little innocence,although it were
as red as terror and as green as fate,
greyly shall fail and dully disappear--
but the proud power of himself death immense
is not so as a little innocence
who were so dark of heart they might not speak,
a little innocence will make them sing;
teach them to see who could not learn to look
--from the reality of all nothing
will actually lift a luminous whole;
turn sheer despairing to most perfect gay,
nowhere to here,never to beautiful:
a little innocence creates a day.
And something thought or done or wished without
a little innocence,although it were
as red as terror and as green as fate,
greyly shall fail and dully disappear--
but the proud power of himself death immense
is not so as a little innocence
We need a president
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
I don't know about you but I don't think I can take four years, or eight, of this particular voice.
With the help of a merciful God, I might not have to.
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
who has the experience to bring about change
who'll be ready on Day One
I don't know about you but I don't think I can take four years, or eight, of this particular voice.
With the help of a merciful God, I might not have to.
2008 means
It's been 40 years since my conception
it's been 30 years since the Blizzard(s) of '78 (Jan. 20 and Feb. 6-8)
it's been 25 years since Bowie's Let's Dance and the Police's Synchronicity
it's been 20 years since Tracy's first album
it's been 20 years since I visited Seattle, California, and New Orleans
it's been 20 years since my first presidential vote (Dukakis)
it's been 20 years since I worked in that no longer extant ice-cream-and-cookie place in Harvard Square
it's been 10 years since I did Charbo's Run (road race in memory of a slain state trooper) with J. B. in the snow
I'm doubtless forgetting other personal and cultural milestones. Eheu fugaces labuntur anni!
It's been 40 years since my conception
it's been 30 years since the Blizzard(s) of '78 (Jan. 20 and Feb. 6-8)
it's been 25 years since Bowie's Let's Dance and the Police's Synchronicity
it's been 20 years since Tracy's first album
it's been 20 years since I visited Seattle, California, and New Orleans
it's been 20 years since my first presidential vote (Dukakis)
it's been 20 years since I worked in that no longer extant ice-cream-and-cookie place in Harvard Square
it's been 10 years since I did Charbo's Run (road race in memory of a slain state trooper) with J. B. in the snow
I'm doubtless forgetting other personal and cultural milestones. Eheu fugaces labuntur anni!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
For the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God
Virgin Mother, daughter of thy son;
humble beyond all creatures and more exalted;
predestined turning point of God's intention;
thy merit so ennobled human nature
that its divine Creator did not scorn
to make Himself the creature of His creature.
The Love that was rekindled in Thy womb
sends forth the warmth of the eternal peace
within whose ray this flower has come to bloom.
Here, to us, thou art the noon and scope
of love revealed; and among mortal men,
the living fountain of eternal hope.
Lady, thou art so near God's reckonings
that who seeks grace and does not first seek thee
would have his wish fly upward without wings.
Not only does thy sweet benignity
flow out to all who beg, but oftentimes
thy charity arrives before the plea.
In thee is pity, in thee munificence,
in thee the tenderest heart, in thee unites
all that creation knows of excellence!
Dante, Paradiso, Canto XXXIII, lines 1-21, trans. John Ciardi
And in the original:
Vergine Madre, figlia del tuo Figlio,
umile ed alta piú che creatura,
termine fisso d'eterno consiglio,
tu se' colei, che l'umana natura
nobilitasti sà che il suo Fattore
non disdegnó di farsi sua fattura.
Nel ventre tuo si raccese l'amore,
per lo cui caldo nell' eterna pace
cosi é germinato questo fiore.
Qui sei a noi meridiana face
di caritate, e giuso, intra i mortali,
sei di speranza fontana vivace.
Donna, sei tanto grande e tanto vali,
che qual vuol grazia ed a te non ricorre,
sua disianza vuol volar senz' ali.
La tua benignitá non pur soccorre
a chi domanda, ma molte fiate
liberamente al domandar precorre.
In te misericordia, in te pietate,
in te magnificenza, in te s'aduna
quantunque in creatura é di bontate.
Virgin Mother, daughter of thy son;
humble beyond all creatures and more exalted;
predestined turning point of God's intention;
thy merit so ennobled human nature
that its divine Creator did not scorn
to make Himself the creature of His creature.
The Love that was rekindled in Thy womb
sends forth the warmth of the eternal peace
within whose ray this flower has come to bloom.
Here, to us, thou art the noon and scope
of love revealed; and among mortal men,
the living fountain of eternal hope.
Lady, thou art so near God's reckonings
that who seeks grace and does not first seek thee
would have his wish fly upward without wings.
Not only does thy sweet benignity
flow out to all who beg, but oftentimes
thy charity arrives before the plea.
In thee is pity, in thee munificence,
in thee the tenderest heart, in thee unites
all that creation knows of excellence!
Dante, Paradiso, Canto XXXIII, lines 1-21, trans. John Ciardi
And in the original:
Vergine Madre, figlia del tuo Figlio,
umile ed alta piú che creatura,
termine fisso d'eterno consiglio,
tu se' colei, che l'umana natura
nobilitasti sà che il suo Fattore
non disdegnó di farsi sua fattura.
Nel ventre tuo si raccese l'amore,
per lo cui caldo nell' eterna pace
cosi é germinato questo fiore.
Qui sei a noi meridiana face
di caritate, e giuso, intra i mortali,
sei di speranza fontana vivace.
Donna, sei tanto grande e tanto vali,
che qual vuol grazia ed a te non ricorre,
sua disianza vuol volar senz' ali.
La tua benignitá non pur soccorre
a chi domanda, ma molte fiate
liberamente al domandar precorre.
In te misericordia, in te pietate,
in te magnificenza, in te s'aduna
quantunque in creatura é di bontate.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
St. Matthew, chapter 10
28: And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.
29: Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
30: But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
31: Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.
28: And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.
29: Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
30: But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
31: Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Anthony Bloom (Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh)
from Beginning to Pray, chapter 1
I would like to remind you of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. The Publican comes and stands at the rear of the church. He knows that he stands condemned; he knows that in terms of justice there is no hope for him because he is an outsider to the kingdom of God, the kingdom of righteousness or the kingdom of love, because he belongs neither to the realm of righteousness nor to the realm of love. But in the cruel, the violent, the ugly life he leads, he has learnt something of which the righteous Pharisee has no idea. He has learnt that in a world of competition, in a world of predatory animals, in a world of cruelty and heartlessness, the only hope one can have is an act of mercy, an act of compassion, a completely unexpected act which is rooted neither in duty nor in natural relationships, which will suspend the action of the cruel, violent, heartless world in which we live. All he knows, for instance, from being himself an extortioner, a moneylender, a thief, and so forth, is that there are moments when for no reason, because it is not part of the world's outlook, he will forgive a debt, because suddenly his heart has become mild and vulnerable; that on another occasion he may not get someone put into prison because a face will have reminded him of something or a voice has gone straight to his heart. There is no logic in this. It is not part of the world's outlook nor is it a way in which he normally behaves. It is something that breaks through, which is completely nonsensical, which he cannot resist; and he knows also, probably, how often he himself was saved from final catastrophe by this intrusion of the unexpected and the impossible, mercy, compassion, forgiveness. So he stands at the rear of the church, knowing that all the realm inside the church is a realm of righteousness and divine love to which he does not belong and into which he cannot enter. But he knows from experience also that the impossible does occur and that is why he says 'Have mercy, break the laws of righteousness, break the laws of religion, come down in mercy to us who have no right either to be forgiven or allowed in.' And I think this is where we should start continuously all over again.
from Beginning to Pray, chapter 1
I would like to remind you of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican. The Publican comes and stands at the rear of the church. He knows that he stands condemned; he knows that in terms of justice there is no hope for him because he is an outsider to the kingdom of God, the kingdom of righteousness or the kingdom of love, because he belongs neither to the realm of righteousness nor to the realm of love. But in the cruel, the violent, the ugly life he leads, he has learnt something of which the righteous Pharisee has no idea. He has learnt that in a world of competition, in a world of predatory animals, in a world of cruelty and heartlessness, the only hope one can have is an act of mercy, an act of compassion, a completely unexpected act which is rooted neither in duty nor in natural relationships, which will suspend the action of the cruel, violent, heartless world in which we live. All he knows, for instance, from being himself an extortioner, a moneylender, a thief, and so forth, is that there are moments when for no reason, because it is not part of the world's outlook, he will forgive a debt, because suddenly his heart has become mild and vulnerable; that on another occasion he may not get someone put into prison because a face will have reminded him of something or a voice has gone straight to his heart. There is no logic in this. It is not part of the world's outlook nor is it a way in which he normally behaves. It is something that breaks through, which is completely nonsensical, which he cannot resist; and he knows also, probably, how often he himself was saved from final catastrophe by this intrusion of the unexpected and the impossible, mercy, compassion, forgiveness. So he stands at the rear of the church, knowing that all the realm inside the church is a realm of righteousness and divine love to which he does not belong and into which he cannot enter. But he knows from experience also that the impossible does occur and that is why he says 'Have mercy, break the laws of righteousness, break the laws of religion, come down in mercy to us who have no right either to be forgiven or allowed in.' And I think this is where we should start continuously all over again.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
To a Fish
by Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)
You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced,
Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
Gulping salt-water everlastingly,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste;
And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be, --
Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry,
Legless, unloving, infamously chaste : --
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?
by Leigh Hunt (1784-1859)
You strange, astonished-looking, angle-faced,
Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of the sea,
Gulping salt-water everlastingly,
Cold-blooded, though with red your blood be graced,
And mute, though dwellers in the roaring waste;
And you, all shapes beside, that fishy be, --
Some round, some flat, some long, all devilry,
Legless, unloving, infamously chaste : --
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights,
What is't ye do? What life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes, and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles?
Quotations
My form-master and English teacher I find to be an excellently civilised man called J. B. Stokes, housemaster of Meadhurst, given to a most peculiar use of what, if I have parsed this correctly, is an imperative interrogative form of a future conditional tense. In other words instead of saying "Shut up" he would say, "You'll be shutting up?," "You'll be sitting down?"
-- Stephen Fry
* * * * *
Dare any call Permissiveness
An educational success?
Saner the classrooms that I sat in,
Compelled to study Greek and Latin.
The Book of Common Prayer I knew
Was that of 1662:
Though "with-it" sermons may be well,
Liturgical reforms are hell.
-- W. H. Auden
My form-master and English teacher I find to be an excellently civilised man called J. B. Stokes, housemaster of Meadhurst, given to a most peculiar use of what, if I have parsed this correctly, is an imperative interrogative form of a future conditional tense. In other words instead of saying "Shut up" he would say, "You'll be shutting up?," "You'll be sitting down?"
-- Stephen Fry
* * * * *
Dare any call Permissiveness
An educational success?
Saner the classrooms that I sat in,
Compelled to study Greek and Latin.
The Book of Common Prayer I knew
Was that of 1662:
Though "with-it" sermons may be well,
Liturgical reforms are hell.
-- W. H. Auden
Common mistaken ideas
about how to read poetry include the Hidden Meaning assumption, which directs one to more or less ignore the surface of the poem in a quest for some elusive and momentous significance that the poet has buried amid the words and music. This idea probably comes from the fact that, being moved by a poem, one assumes an important religious, philosophical, or historical cause for being moved and tries to find it hidden someplace in the poem; whereas in fact a few words rightly placed can be moving if they catch a moment of life -- almost any moment; if, amidst all the blather and babble of imprecise, uncertain language in which we live, there is something better, some undeniable little beautiful bit of light. This is given to us, of course, by the music, and the words, not [by] something that they conceal.
Kenneth Koch, Making Your Own Days : The Pleasures of Reading and Writing Poetry (Touchstone, 1998), p. 111
about how to read poetry include the Hidden Meaning assumption, which directs one to more or less ignore the surface of the poem in a quest for some elusive and momentous significance that the poet has buried amid the words and music. This idea probably comes from the fact that, being moved by a poem, one assumes an important religious, philosophical, or historical cause for being moved and tries to find it hidden someplace in the poem; whereas in fact a few words rightly placed can be moving if they catch a moment of life -- almost any moment; if, amidst all the blather and babble of imprecise, uncertain language in which we live, there is something better, some undeniable little beautiful bit of light. This is given to us, of course, by the music, and the words, not [by] something that they conceal.
Kenneth Koch, Making Your Own Days : The Pleasures of Reading and Writing Poetry (Touchstone, 1998), p. 111
PSA on the MBTA
There was a public service advertisement I saw on the bus recently, one that made me think. "Parents, get involved with your children! Talk to them about not drinking." Words to that effect. "You are the center of your child's world." (?!?) "You can make a difference." The ad was put there by, I think, some agency of the City of Cambridge (known affectionately to locals as the People's Republic of Cambridge).
"Parents, get involved with your children." Laudable sentiment. But what if the parental involvement has to do with, oh, wanting to know if the child is getting contraceptives from the school nurse, or wanting to shield the child from some of the more indelicate matters of sexual education, or wanting to prevent gay-rights propaganda from entering the home in the guise of a textbook (a second-grade reading assignment)? Is parental involvement encouraged by the City of Cambridge under those circumstances? Is parental involvement even seen as permissible?
As long as they're not drinking before they're twenty-one.
There was a public service advertisement I saw on the bus recently, one that made me think. "Parents, get involved with your children! Talk to them about not drinking." Words to that effect. "You are the center of your child's world." (?!?) "You can make a difference." The ad was put there by, I think, some agency of the City of Cambridge (known affectionately to locals as the People's Republic of Cambridge).
"Parents, get involved with your children." Laudable sentiment. But what if the parental involvement has to do with, oh, wanting to know if the child is getting contraceptives from the school nurse, or wanting to shield the child from some of the more indelicate matters of sexual education, or wanting to prevent gay-rights propaganda from entering the home in the guise of a textbook (a second-grade reading assignment)? Is parental involvement encouraged by the City of Cambridge under those circumstances? Is parental involvement even seen as permissible?
As long as they're not drinking before they're twenty-one.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve
by Eric Milner-White (1884-1963)
Mary, in the days of her holy expectation,
magnified the Lord;
her spirit rejoiced in the child of her womb,
the Son of God.
For when all things lay in silence,
and night was in the midst of her course,
there leaped down, O God, from on high,
from thy royal throne,
the Word, thy Christ, thyself;
through woman to be born in human nature,
born in time, born in us,
and we in him.
Grant me, O God, thy divinest gift,
that Emmanuel may be formed and born in me,
and I may ever rejoice and magnify thee.
Say to my soul, Peace, be still,
as was that silent night.
And send thy Word, into my soul,
not for my merit, but by thy miracle;
by my desire, but of thy sole gift;
not in part, but in all
which mortal can receive.
Father, let me be born in thee as thy child:
Christ, be born in me as my Lord:
Holy Spirit, travail and shine within;
that I may live in thy life
and love with thy love
evermore and evermore.
E. Milner-White, My God, My Glory : Aspirations, acts, and prayers on the desire for God, intro. by Joyce Huggett (Triangle/SPCK, 1994), p. 56.
by Eric Milner-White (1884-1963)
Mary, in the days of her holy expectation,
magnified the Lord;
her spirit rejoiced in the child of her womb,
the Son of God.
For when all things lay in silence,
and night was in the midst of her course,
there leaped down, O God, from on high,
from thy royal throne,
the Word, thy Christ, thyself;
through woman to be born in human nature,
born in time, born in us,
and we in him.
Grant me, O God, thy divinest gift,
that Emmanuel may be formed and born in me,
and I may ever rejoice and magnify thee.
Say to my soul, Peace, be still,
as was that silent night.
And send thy Word, into my soul,
not for my merit, but by thy miracle;
by my desire, but of thy sole gift;
not in part, but in all
which mortal can receive.
Father, let me be born in thee as thy child:
Christ, be born in me as my Lord:
Holy Spirit, travail and shine within;
that I may live in thy life
and love with thy love
evermore and evermore.
E. Milner-White, My God, My Glory : Aspirations, acts, and prayers on the desire for God, intro. by Joyce Huggett (Triangle/SPCK, 1994), p. 56.
O little town of Bethlehem
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.
How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear Christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee,
Son of the mother mild;
Where charity stands watching
And faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.
O holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!
Phillips Brooks, 1868
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.
How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear Christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee,
Son of the mother mild;
Where charity stands watching
And faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.
O holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!
Phillips Brooks, 1868
All my heart this night rejoices
All my heart this night rejoices
As I hear
Far and near
Sweetest angel voices;
"Christ is born," their choirs are singing,
Till the air
Ev'rywhere
Now with joy is ringing.
Come, then, let us hasten yonder;
Here let all,
Great and small,
Kneel in awe and wonder,
Love him who with love is yearning;
Hail the Star,
That from far
Bright with hope is burning!
Ye who pine in weary sadness,
Weep no more,
For the door
Now is found of gladness.
Cling to him, for he will guide you
Where no cross,
Pain or loss
Can again betide you.
Paul Gerhardt, 1607-76, trans. Catherine Winkworth, 1827-78
All my heart this night rejoices
As I hear
Far and near
Sweetest angel voices;
"Christ is born," their choirs are singing,
Till the air
Ev'rywhere
Now with joy is ringing.
Come, then, let us hasten yonder;
Here let all,
Great and small,
Kneel in awe and wonder,
Love him who with love is yearning;
Hail the Star,
That from far
Bright with hope is burning!
Ye who pine in weary sadness,
Weep no more,
For the door
Now is found of gladness.
Cling to him, for he will guide you
Where no cross,
Pain or loss
Can again betide you.
Paul Gerhardt, 1607-76, trans. Catherine Winkworth, 1827-78
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Isaiah 45:8
Drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness: let the earth open, and let them bring forth salvation, and let righteousness spring up together; I the LORD have created it.
Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum; aperiatur terra, et germinet salvatorem ...
Drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness: let the earth open, and let them bring forth salvation, and let righteousness spring up together; I the LORD have created it.
Rorate caeli desuper, et nubes pluant justum; aperiatur terra, et germinet salvatorem ...
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Dappled Things
(the periodical)
The current (Advent/Christmas) issue.
This poem strikes me as especially good.
Hat tip: Meredith.
(the periodical)
The current (Advent/Christmas) issue.
This poem strikes me as especially good.
Hat tip: Meredith.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Advent
A paragraph from a sermon by Msgr Ronald Knox.
The first post in several months at the Blog from the Core. A welcome return!
A paragraph from a sermon by Msgr Ronald Knox.
The first post in several months at the Blog from the Core. A welcome return!
Huckabee news
also spotted at Clairity Daily
The presidential candidate has accepted an invitation to speak at an anti-Catholic preacher's church.
The Catholic Church is to blame for Adolf Hitler's hatred of the Jews? Things like that emanate from the "reverend" Hagee. Never mind the fact that Nazis persecuted Catholics (George Weigel's biography of Pope John Paul II mentions in passing a Polish priest who was buried alive in excrement for his opposition to the National Socialist régime). And the late Pope aforementioned was one of the most philo-Semitic figures in recent history ...
The charge is too stupid to attempt to refute. Just goes to show you: anti-Catholicism is alive and well on the right (Hagee, et al.) as it is on the left (examples too numerous to cite).
also spotted at Clairity Daily
The presidential candidate has accepted an invitation to speak at an anti-Catholic preacher's church.
The Catholic Church is to blame for Adolf Hitler's hatred of the Jews? Things like that emanate from the "reverend" Hagee. Never mind the fact that Nazis persecuted Catholics (George Weigel's biography of Pope John Paul II mentions in passing a Polish priest who was buried alive in excrement for his opposition to the National Socialist régime). And the late Pope aforementioned was one of the most philo-Semitic figures in recent history ...
The charge is too stupid to attempt to refute. Just goes to show you: anti-Catholicism is alive and well on the right (Hagee, et al.) as it is on the left (examples too numerous to cite).
Thursday, December 20, 2007
An Orthodox reflection at On the Square
the First Things blog
Icons Will Save the World by Susan Cushman. With sections entitled, "Spiritual Beauty," "Veneration vs. Worship," "Sanctifying the Sense of Sight," "Incarnational Art," etc.
Spotted at Clairity Daily, if memory serves.
the First Things blog
Icons Will Save the World by Susan Cushman. With sections entitled, "Spiritual Beauty," "Veneration vs. Worship," "Sanctifying the Sense of Sight," "Incarnational Art," etc.
Spotted at Clairity Daily, if memory serves.
Monday, December 17, 2007
The O Antiphons
December 17
O Wisdom, which camest out of the mouth of the most High, and reachest from one end to another, mightily and sweetly ordering all things: Come and teach us the way of prudence.
O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem, fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.
December 18
O Adonai and Leader of the house of Israel, who appearedst in the Bush of Moses in a flame of fire, and gavest him the law in Sinai: Come and deliver us with an outstretched arm.
O Adonai, et Dux domus Israel, qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, et ei in Sina legem dedisti: veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.
December 19
O Root of Jesse, which standest for an ensign of the people, at whom kings shall shut their mouths, to whom the Gentiles shall seek: Come and deliver us, and tarry not.
O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum, super quem continebunt reges os suum, quem gentes deprecabuntur: veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.
December 20
O Key of David, and Sceptre of the house of Israel; that openest, and no man shutteth, and shuttest, and no man openeth: come and bring the prisoner out of the prison house, and him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.
O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel: qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: venit, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris et umbra mortis.
December 21
O Day-Spring, Brightness of Light, everlasting and sun of Righteousness: Come and enlighten him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.
O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis.
December 22
O King of the Nations, and their Desire; the Cornerstone, who makest both one: Come and save mankind, whom thou formedst of clay.
O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum, lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum: veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti.
December 23
O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, the Desire of all nations, and their Salvation: Come and save us, O Lord our God.
O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos Domine Deus noster.
December 17
O Wisdom, which camest out of the mouth of the most High, and reachest from one end to another, mightily and sweetly ordering all things: Come and teach us the way of prudence.
O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem, fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.
December 18
O Adonai and Leader of the house of Israel, who appearedst in the Bush of Moses in a flame of fire, and gavest him the law in Sinai: Come and deliver us with an outstretched arm.
O Adonai, et Dux domus Israel, qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, et ei in Sina legem dedisti: veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.
December 19
O Root of Jesse, which standest for an ensign of the people, at whom kings shall shut their mouths, to whom the Gentiles shall seek: Come and deliver us, and tarry not.
O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum, super quem continebunt reges os suum, quem gentes deprecabuntur: veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.
December 20
O Key of David, and Sceptre of the house of Israel; that openest, and no man shutteth, and shuttest, and no man openeth: come and bring the prisoner out of the prison house, and him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.
O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel: qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: venit, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris et umbra mortis.
December 21
O Day-Spring, Brightness of Light, everlasting and sun of Righteousness: Come and enlighten him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.
O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis.
December 22
O King of the Nations, and their Desire; the Cornerstone, who makest both one: Come and save mankind, whom thou formedst of clay.
O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum, lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum: veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti.
December 23
O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, the Desire of all nations, and their Salvation: Come and save us, O Lord our God.
O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos Domine Deus noster.
Timeless works of art
Cardinal Seán visits the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, where one can find Sandro Botticelli's Virgin and Child with an Angel (c. 1470), and other fine works of holy inspiration; slowly scroll down.
Cardinal Seán visits the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, where one can find Sandro Botticelli's Virgin and Child with an Angel (c. 1470), and other fine works of holy inspiration; slowly scroll down.
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