The quest for religious solace

Seen from the outside, the quest for religious solace looks preposterous. Soren Kierkegaard said that religion has a truth so purely interior that it approaches madness.

Judith Shulevitz, The Sabbath World

Yes. Like being in love, it's almost impossible to explain this to someone who hasn't experienced it.

Library books and the power of good stories

It had that comfortably sprung, lived-in look that library books with a lively circulation always get; bent page corners, a dab of mustard on page 331, a whiff of some reader's spilled after-dinner whiskey on page 468. Only library books speak with such wordless eloquence of the power good stories hold over us, how good stories abide, unchanged and mutely wise, while we poor humans grow older and slower.

Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot

You'd think this was written by Ray Bradbury instead of Stephen King. Or at least I would've. King tells his vampire story with a prose style that is direct and to the point, for the most part. However, every so often he veers off into a bit of poetic prose like this. Those are gems of captured image.

Pangur Ban: Praise of Cats in Ancient Poetry and Art

You don't have to be a cat lover to love this poem about writing and cats by an anonymous 9th century Irish monk. It's often thought that the monk was working on the Book of Kells when he made this poem.

He describes perfectly the striving and dedication all writers feel, as well our triumph at solving a problem in just the perfect way.

Pangur Bán

I and Pangur Bán, my cat
‘Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
‘Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.

‘Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur’s way:
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

‘Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
‘Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Bán, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.

Unknown 9th century Irish monk, translation by Robin Flowers

Cat catching mouse, illustration from Book of Kells

Fire proves iron and temptation fires the just man

Fire proves iron—that's the kind of point Jesus son of Sirach liked to make (31:26)—and temptation fires the just man.

Often we don't know what we can do until temptation opens us up to what we are.

Stand sentinel in the intellect we must, before temptation strikes. Engage the Enemy at the earliest possible moment. In the chapel. In the dining hall. At the gate. On the road. In the field.

That's how temptation works. A simple thought enters the mind. A vivid imagination goes to work. After that it's a nudge, a wink, and a nod.

Right from the start you should resist strongly. When you don't, the Enemy bearing evils tiptoes in unawares and wins the day. And so it is every day. The slower your response, the quicker the Devil's step.

The Imitation of Christ, Thomas a Kempis

Transl. William Griffin

Christmas - finishing the season

Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for -- I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.

Kate L. Bosher

Christmas with Charles Dickens - again!

What better way to wind down our Christmas season than with a quote from Dickens?

I have always thought of Christmas time as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely.

Charles Dickens

Christmas — The Bells!

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Christmas Spirit

Because, yes, it is STILL Christmas! We're in this mighty celebration until the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord which isn't until next Monday.

For the spirit of Christmas fulfils the greatest hunger of mankind.

Loring A. Schuler

Christmas Isn't Over Yet!

Christmas, my child, is love in action.

Dale Evans

Christmas - Our hearts grow tender

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.

Laura Ingalls Wilder

The Keepsakes and Customs of Christmas

It comes every year and will go on forever. And along with Christmas belong the keepsakes and the customs. Those humble, everyday things a mother clings to, and ponders, like Mary in the secret spaces of her heart.

Marjorie Holmes

Glorious Mess

One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don't clean it up too quickly.

Andy Rooney

And we never do.

A skilful flatterer is a most delightful companion

"Neither does Miss Nickleby look the worse," said Sir Mulberry, bending his bold gaze upon her. "She was always handsome, but, upon my soul, ma'am, you seem to have imparted some of your own good looks to her besides."

... Mrs. Wititterly admitted, though not with the best grace in the world, that Kate did look pretty. She began to think too, that Sir Mulberry was not quite so agreeable a creature as she had at first supposed him; for, although a skilful flatterer is a most delightful companion if you can keep him all to yourself, his taste becomes very doubtful when he takes to complimenting other people.

Charles Dickens, Nicholas Nickleby

Poor Kate is being stalked by two of the most horrible men, with the help of her avaricious uncle, and without any help from her vain employer or her bird-witted mother. Her plight was truly disturbing, though made much more tolerable from the keen and humorous observations like the one above.

Then and now - the cardinal problem of life

For the wise men of old, the cardinal problem of human life was how to conform the soul to objective reality, and the solution was wisdom, self-discipline and virtue. For the modern, the cardinal problem is how to conform reality to the wishes of man, and the solution is a technique.

C.S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man

Unfortunately, this is even truer now than when it was written in 1943, over 80 years ago.

Turkey - the Word of the Week

 I've mentioned Word & Song before — here's my review. I'm sharing this because I was so surprised by what Anthony Esolen said last year about turkeys being in a Shakespeare play 20 years before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. Read it all here.

... there’s our Word of the Week, turkey, in a play [Twelfth Night] that was written almost twenty years before the Pilgrim Fathers landed at Plymouth, and before they celebrated a late-autumn Thanksgiving with great roasted turkeys! Is it the same bird? Where did it come from? Why is it called a turkey?

As best we can figure, it was the same bird or close to it, brought into Europe and Asia by Spanish traders. It quickly became a favorite — after all, you’d much prefer a big fat turkey to a skinny goose or stork. But it got to England by a circuitous route: from India, where the Spanish took it, and Madagascar, and thence to the country called Turkey, after the people, the Turks, who ruled there. The Turks themselves called the bird hindi, meaning that it came from India, and that’s also why in French it was called poulet d’Inde, Indian chicken — giving us modern French dindon. In Italy, they call it tacchino, probably imitating a tak-tak-tak gobble. If you think that’s odd, in Persia you may call it either korus e-hendi, Indian chicken, or booghalamoon — again, for the gobble. In any case, if you were living in London in Shakespeare’s time, you might well have the popular turkey as your Christmas feast.

So when the Pilgrims came to Massachusetts, imagine their surprise when they saw wild turkeys galumphing about, fattened on local walnuts and beech nuts and hazels and apples! They’d have known from experience what to do with those birds. We’ve got flocks of them where we live now, in New Hampshire, and one winter’s day they gathered, about two dozen, around a crabapple tree in the neighbor’s yard, craning their necks and hopping from the ground to snatch the fruits, yes, hopping, because they were too heavy for the branches, especially the toms.

Carmen Navale - Think of Christ and echo him

With sweat and blood and Blackwood pine
We laid her keel and faired her lines
Heave, lads, and let the echoes ring

With her keel tight-caulked she swims right well
Let torrents fall and wild gusts swell
Heave, lads, and let the echoes ring

The tempests howl, the storms dismay
But manly strength can win the day
Heave, lads, and let the echoes ring

For clouds and squalls will soon pass on
And victory lies with work well done
Heave, lads, and let the echoes ring

Hold fast! Survive! And all is well
You've suffered worse, He'll calm this swell
Heave, lads, and let the echoes ring

Satan acts to tire the brain
And by temptation souls are slain
Think, lads, of Christ and echo Him

With fixed resolve we scorn the foe
With virtues armed we pray and row
Think, lads, of Christ and echo Him

The king of virtues vowed a prize
For him who wins, for him who tries
Think, lads, of Christ and echo Him

Mashup of 2 translations: Tony Krogh, Anglandicus

I discovered this prayer in The Path of Celtic Prayer by Calvin Miller. However, the book didn't have the whole thing, as I discovered when I went looking for a version to copy into this post. This is going into my quote journal.

For those who don't know Columbanus was an early Irish missionary who traveled through Europe with his brother monks, evangelizing on the way. He viewed life as a pilgrimage and wrote this song which reflects that idea so well. I can see it in my mind's eye, the boat of men singing a call and response maybe, the crashing waves, the serious struggle accompanied by the joy of triumph making it upstream.

Journeying up the Rhine in 610, Columbanus and his disciples supposedly chanted his famous ‘boat song’. One can almost hear the Irish monks dig their oars into the Rhine’s formidable current as they struggle upstream. The poem compares the surging storm waters with the trials and struggles of the Christian life. Columbanus sees the tempests and storms of life overcome by the one who is in Christ. He frequently used the analogy of storms at sea as a picture for hardship and trials.

Anglandicus blog

Columbanus embarking, by an unknown artist
Source

"Happy" versus what makes us most beautifully human

This is long but do read it all.

“Presume competence,” said the disability advocates, and so I did. I learned to discard “normal” and embrace “possible.” It wasn’t easy. My daughter needed 10 times the support of a typical kid. It also felt like the truest, most human work I could do: to love someone into whomever they would become.

I was learning. Meanwhile, the evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins tweeted that it was immoral for a pregnant woman to knowingly carry to term a child with Down syndrome because, according to him, disabilities decrease happiness and increase suffering. I was appalled.

When Fiona reached kindergarten in 2016, I fretted: Would her teachers think the same? That her life wasn’t “worth it”? At a standard public school, among kids twice her size, would she be dismissed as incapable, rejected as less-than?

I couldn’t know that in one year, her gross motor confidence would climb. ... I couldn’t know that in the company of typical, talking peers, my daughter’s verbal language would explode.

On her first day of kindergarten, I couldn’t know any of this—just as I couldn’t know that, on the day I learned of my daughter’s diagnosis, I was being handed a gift: the knowledge that the point of life isn’t to achieve things. It also isn’t, as Richard Dawkins implies, to avoid suffering. It isn’t even to “be happy.” ... This belief in the virtue of the “happy” and suffering-free life sterilizes and shrinks us, minimizing what makes us most beautifully human.

The point of this human life, I believe, is love. And the ridiculous and brave and risky act of love turns my heart into taffy, stretches it across the broad spectrum of human feeling. I hurt, I long, I exalt, I rejoice. And yes, my chest sometimes aches from the work of raising a rare girl. But the ache in my chest is a cousin of joy.

Heather Lanier

The Real Work of Parenting a Rare Girl

Wall Street Journal, July 25, 2020

I was so touched, especially looking at Richard Dawkins' eugenics stance (carefully couched as kindness) versus Heather Lanier's hard earned joy which reaffirms the point of life and power of love.  It is also a good reminder that there is so much we can't know when we try to see into the future. Sometimes what we find there is great beyond our ability to imagine it.

Do not free a camel

Do not free a camel from the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel.

G.K. Chesterton

What We Deserve

It is always a terrible thing to come back to Mott Street. To come back in a driving rain, to men crouched on the stairs, huddled in doorways, without overcoats because they sold them perhaps the week before when it was warm, to satisfy hunger or thirst — who knows? Those without love would say, "It serves them right, drinking up their clothes." God help us if we got just what we deserved!

Dorothy Day, On Pilgrimage

"God help us if we got just what we deserved!"

Yes. That would indeed be a terrible fate.

Can I visit it upon another? There is justice, to be sure, and it is much needed in this world. But justice must be served up with mercy. That is the delicate balance with which we all struggle.

Involuntary versus voluntary penance

St. Angela of Foligno said that penances voluntarily undertaken are not half so meritorious as those imposed on us by the circumstances of our lives and cheerfully borne. ...

Most of us have not the courage to set out on this path wholeheartedly, so God arranges it for us.

Dorothy Day, On Pilgrimage

You know, that never would have occurred to me. It provides food for thought about how I live my life. For one thing I am terrible about taking up voluntary penances for the improvement of my soul. It is a comfort to think that God provides anyway.

Not that I love inconvenience or hardship, but we can't escape it so this is just one more way to orient myself toward the good that can come (and is intended) from it.