Thursday, January 16, 2014

SOTERIA (2)


The ego is, precisely, the impossibility of surrender. Only Reality in us can surrender to Itself.  This is already the centre of our being – pure being – for which there is no “nothing else.”
~ Lewis Thompson (1909-1949), Journals.

The Lord said to Moses, “thou canst not see my face: for there shall no man see me and live.” That sounds about right to me. After all, our response to the beatific vision is not to ask what’s next? It is not a vision from which one walks away; it is the fulfillment of all seeing. There is also the practical consideration that God doesn’t have a face, as in a body part, and so when Moses said: “I beseech thee, show me thy glory,” he was asking for something infinitely deeper. According to Philo, “the soul that loves God seeks to know what the one living God is according to his essence.” He says that Moses “entreated God to become the exhibitor and expounder of his own nature to him.” (De Posteritate Caini) To ‘see’ on this level is perfect freedom and the letting go of all that is false, desperate, contrived, and unreal. It is the end of what we thought we were and the realization of what we have never not been.
I suppose, in light of what I’ve just written, I’m also reminded why Jesus told us not to rehearse what we’re going to say when persecutors haul us away for trial. This has always struck me as a tall order, and yet all three synoptic gospels have him saying it. I don’t know about you but if I knew I was about to be interrogated I’d have a hard time thinking about anything else. I’d be tempted to play through in my head responses to all possible questions, and then re-play them over and over until I had them exactly right and was off-book; ready to perform when the time came. Then again, Jesus also told us not to live as if we are actors putting on a performance to be judged by others. Our task isn’t to reinforce and make real any character we have invented. It is not about somehow solidifying the way we imagine ourselves. It is a matter of knowing our essential nature. It is about passing from the unreal to the real, out of the shadows and into the truth.

Monday, January 6, 2014

DEADWOOD


From time to time I enjoy playing with iambic pentameter. I don’t write poetry (unless that’s what you consider song lyrics) and have never attempted to compose a poem using iambic pentameter, even though several of my favorite Robert Frost poems use that meter. And then there’s Shakespeare. The Bard’s use of iambic inspired one latter-day genius, David Milch, creator of the Television series ‘Deadwood’ (2004-2006). While the dialogue in that series was not written in strict iambic pentameter it seemed nevertheless to be inspired by it. The result was a profane brilliance the likes of which we’re unlikely to see again.
I decided to write a short sketch featuring three of Deadwood’s characters, Mr. Merrick, editor of the Newspaper, Jack Langrishe, actor and director of a theatrical troupe, and Richardson, a simple minded, lowly, waiter at the Grand Hotel Dining Room. If you happen to be a fan of that series then you might enjoy this bit of nonsense. If not, then just scroll on by.
Only the dialogue is Iambic Pentameter (10.10.10.10.), and if I’ve done it right you should be able to sing it to “Eventide’ (Abide with me), or any other hymn in that meter. Try it:
Yes, Mr. Merrick, I seem to recall
You making mention of this when first we
Met on the day our weary troupe arrived,
Slowly descending from these great Black Hills

If you enjoy this post then please consider it my way of wishing you a Happy Epiphany!
Anyways …

Interior location – The Grand Central dining room in Deadwood, Dakota Territory, 1877
Merrick: May I say, Mr. Langrishe, that I am much in your debt for taking of your time to keep the readers of The Pioneer informed about the finer things of life such as the theater, art, and acting in which, with all due modesty, I must confess to having dabbled in the past, though strictly as a budding amateur.
Langrishe: Yes, Mr. Merrick, I seem to recall you making mention of this when first we met on the day our weary troupe arrived, slowly descending from these great Black Hills.
Merrick: And a great day that was for me as well.
Langrishe: You are too kind.
Merrick: I simply speak the truth.
(Richardson arrives, silently places plates of food on the table, and obsequiously backs away.)
Langrishe: Such a face!
Merrick: Richardson?
Langrishe: He has the look of a character born in Shakespeare’s time.
(Merrick glances at Richardson and is for a second at a loss for words.)
Merrick: May I ask, Sir, if you might be so kind as to offer some insights into the creative process – in particular, how authors and actors are so inspired?
Langrishe: That, Mr. Merrick, is a question which I have considered now for many years. The ancients spoke of daimons which inspired. There is no amusement without the muse. Writers create, and their words proceed forth and are made flesh by actors who become the incarnate expressions of those words, so much so, I am left to wonder if there is a moment when characters become living creatures independent of their creator. And might such a creature become in its own right a living thing?
Merrick: And cry 'Subsisto!'
Langrishe: Yes! Yes, I exist. Most writers will allow that they are led by characters who in turn drive the plot, the creature becoming the creator.
Merrick: And might such characters continue to live on long past the final curtain call?
Langrishe: I think they do. In fact, I think they must, to be enjoyed forever and anon.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

YOUNG IN MIND


In Plato’s Timaeus an account is given of a visit made by that great Athenian Statesman, Solon, to a city in the Egyptian Delta. There he met an elderly priest who remarked on how the Hellenes were young in mind. “O Solon, Solon,” he said, “you Hellenes are never anything but children, and there is not an old man among you.” When Solon asked the meaning of this the priest replied: “I mean to say that in mind you are all young; there is no old opinion handed down among you by ancient tradition, nor any science which is hoary with age.” (Timaeus 22.b) The priest went on to observe that while the Egyptians keep the records of antiquity stored safely in their temples, other peoples, like the Hellenes, have suffered catastrophic destructions such as fires and floods in which such documents were destroyed. When the writings are gone learning is gone as well. Moreover, when this destruction comes through a flood the ones who survive are “herdsmen and shepherds who dwell in the mountains” while those living in cities are “swept out to sea.” Such a deluge leaves “only those who are destitute of letters and of education, and so you have to begin all over again, like children.” (Timaeus 23.b)
On this Octave Day of Christmas I cannot help recalling those Jewish herdsmen and shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. They were the first to see the renewal of humanity. Those unlettered shepherds were the first to adore the Word of God made flesh. They were witnesses of humanity’s new creation in Christ.
I suppose the ancient Greeks were “always young in mind” in that they sought to know the reason in things and to contemplate the eternal which is never old but always new and known only here and now. My hope as this year begins is that we all may remain young in mind as we grow in the newness of life.
Happy New Year.