Thanksgiving 2009
Vain seasons ebb and flow. The summer's heat
Now yields to coming dark and cold, a feat
Of nascent winter. Dazzling roses fade
In dour display of floral pasquinade.
The dust dry petals fling into the air
Remind the hungry heart of earth's despair.
O loose eternally the mortal curse
And find hid sacred pearls to bless your purse.
Why not this day depart from fears and fade-
Less blessings gain, your tainted fleshly shade
Put off? What blooms in holy solitude?
The rose of Sharon, God's beatitude.
Note: The source given for the title of the second entry prior to this one was "Westminster Chimes". I presume it is a poetic setting to the famous chimes of Big Ben. The entire short poem is:
Lord, through this hour
Be Thou our Guide,
So by Thy power
No foot shall slide.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Thinking Vs. Knowing
Thinking and knowing are not tweedledum and tweedledee. Thinking is a prospector who might strike gold today, but pyrite tomorrow. Knowing has purchased the pearl of great price. Thinking may be found in the streets of Jerusalem or New Jerusalem. Knowing is a permanent denizen of the latter.
In his tete-a-tete with Eve the serpent wanted her to think about, picture the wonders of, that forbidden tree in the midst of the garden, a tree that was "good for food, and that was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise". Also, a yummy pathway to death. Thinking, important as it is, will not bring us unfailingly into the Kingdom of Heaven any more than it will conjure up a donut with sprinkles on it ("The Fugitive").
It should not be overlooked that one of the three epigraphs to Science and Health, from John, denotes knowing, and another, from Shakespeare, thinking. The two words are certainly not antonyms and may even operate side by side in our consciousness, but thinking does not always yield the treasure of knowing. As has been stated many times before, Christ Jesus' command was to know the truth, not merely think or speak it. Knowing connotes understanding, thinking conceptualizing.
Probably most of us have been frustrated at times, maybe frequently, that our thinking has resulted in such a meager portion of knowing, but Mrs Eddy has made it clear that while the letter usually comes in abundance, the spirit comes in exiguous spritzes.
Note: I appreciate the kind comments on the "poem" a couple of entries ago. The brief critique by LowlyWise, I think, was useful, but I suspect a few more observations may have been mercifully spiked. Some rusty machinery was being set in motion after a long hiatus, and the effort no doubt would have benefitted from a few weeks of aging and emendation. Then, too, desire and noble intentions do not alone make a poet.
In his tete-a-tete with Eve the serpent wanted her to think about, picture the wonders of, that forbidden tree in the midst of the garden, a tree that was "good for food, and that was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise". Also, a yummy pathway to death. Thinking, important as it is, will not bring us unfailingly into the Kingdom of Heaven any more than it will conjure up a donut with sprinkles on it ("The Fugitive").
It should not be overlooked that one of the three epigraphs to Science and Health, from John, denotes knowing, and another, from Shakespeare, thinking. The two words are certainly not antonyms and may even operate side by side in our consciousness, but thinking does not always yield the treasure of knowing. As has been stated many times before, Christ Jesus' command was to know the truth, not merely think or speak it. Knowing connotes understanding, thinking conceptualizing.
Probably most of us have been frustrated at times, maybe frequently, that our thinking has resulted in such a meager portion of knowing, but Mrs Eddy has made it clear that while the letter usually comes in abundance, the spirit comes in exiguous spritzes.
Note: I appreciate the kind comments on the "poem" a couple of entries ago. The brief critique by LowlyWise, I think, was useful, but I suspect a few more observations may have been mercifully spiked. Some rusty machinery was being set in motion after a long hiatus, and the effort no doubt would have benefitted from a few weeks of aging and emendation. Then, too, desire and noble intentions do not alone make a poet.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
"Lord,through this hour/Be Thou our Guide"
The devil will permit me to accept the notion that I am God's perfect spiritual reflection provided I continue to receive and read the business mail he sends to my address. There is no better time than now to send that foul stuff back to him stamped "Return to Sender". Even his tempting holiday specials with 0% APR for 60 months need to be rejected without even a curious peek at the exciting details. They may sound attractive, but so does a con man to a rube.
Some current tv ad slogans are worth thinking about vis-a-vis the Adversary's persistent appeals to "Come on down" as a car dealer used to say nightly. Two are from the same company, Capital One (credit cards), I think: "Don't leave home without it" and "What's in your wallet?" If I leave home without doing adequate protective work or without a solid spiritual sense of God with me, I'm leaving the mail box open to receive whatever the letter carrier, like the cat, brings. I'd also be foolish not to have God always in my mental wallet. I don't ever go out without my credit card, so why should I leave something vastly more important at home? Some of us might be chagrined to find out what is in our wallet (our consciousness) as we head out the door.
The third slogan is from an auto manufacturer, I think: "Expect more". I know, first, I need to expect more from myself. I can be a better Christian Scientist, a better healer, a better church member, and maybe even a better contributor to the periodicals. I can also rightly expect better from others and work to appreciate their sincere efforts to do good. Obviously, however, a tentative or doubting faith or expectation is not going to be a flood tide that will lift a Styrofoam cup. The needs of mankind, and even Christian Scientists are great, and, perforce, our prayerful work must be up to the need. "When the destination is desirable, expectation speeds our progress." (S&H 426: 8-9)
Note: The poem in the previous entry was a fresh effort. I do not intend for now to revisit earlier (sometimes rejected submissions to CSPS) poems, which go back now 10-15 years. For me, poetry is quite labor, and hence time, intensive. I'll see what the stork of inspiration brings.
Some current tv ad slogans are worth thinking about vis-a-vis the Adversary's persistent appeals to "Come on down" as a car dealer used to say nightly. Two are from the same company, Capital One (credit cards), I think: "Don't leave home without it" and "What's in your wallet?" If I leave home without doing adequate protective work or without a solid spiritual sense of God with me, I'm leaving the mail box open to receive whatever the letter carrier, like the cat, brings. I'd also be foolish not to have God always in my mental wallet. I don't ever go out without my credit card, so why should I leave something vastly more important at home? Some of us might be chagrined to find out what is in our wallet (our consciousness) as we head out the door.
The third slogan is from an auto manufacturer, I think: "Expect more". I know, first, I need to expect more from myself. I can be a better Christian Scientist, a better healer, a better church member, and maybe even a better contributor to the periodicals. I can also rightly expect better from others and work to appreciate their sincere efforts to do good. Obviously, however, a tentative or doubting faith or expectation is not going to be a flood tide that will lift a Styrofoam cup. The needs of mankind, and even Christian Scientists are great, and, perforce, our prayerful work must be up to the need. "When the destination is desirable, expectation speeds our progress." (S&H 426: 8-9)
Note: The poem in the previous entry was a fresh effort. I do not intend for now to revisit earlier (sometimes rejected submissions to CSPS) poems, which go back now 10-15 years. For me, poetry is quite labor, and hence time, intensive. I'll see what the stork of inspiration brings.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Icarus Reborn
Icarus Reborn
Demented by the worldly splendor of sin and self,
Flapping feebly and frail-winged into the fearful and illusory darkness,
The apocalyptic omen and harbinger of Armageddon,
He flew too near the baleful and stygian sun of disobedience,
And fallen through the smutty lie of fleshly limbs and ligaments,
Dropped broken and betrayed into the stale demise
Of Adam's Eden, an earthly paradise gone lightless and dreary.
Now new-baptised, heeding the beatifying susurrus of angel whisperings--
Reborn under the ageless and eternal shadow of Elohim's hand--
He soars anew on grace-full Love-feathered wings of Soul.
Demented by the worldly splendor of sin and self,
Flapping feebly and frail-winged into the fearful and illusory darkness,
The apocalyptic omen and harbinger of Armageddon,
He flew too near the baleful and stygian sun of disobedience,
And fallen through the smutty lie of fleshly limbs and ligaments,
Dropped broken and betrayed into the stale demise
Of Adam's Eden, an earthly paradise gone lightless and dreary.
Now new-baptised, heeding the beatifying susurrus of angel whisperings--
Reborn under the ageless and eternal shadow of Elohim's hand--
He soars anew on grace-full Love-feathered wings of Soul.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough"
It was not my intent in the previous entry to be snootily dismissive of Mrs. Eddy as a poet. What was surely most important to her in her metaphysical poems was clearly conveying content, not displaying art. First rate poetry is often obscure and ambiguous, sometimes to the point of opacity. If one desires to be clear and unambiguous, he should write prose, which is, of course, what Mrs. Eddy usually did. Those seven of her poems which have become hymns plus "Christ and Christmas" are more than respectable, and I wouldn't wish to be without them.
I finally read the informative article in the November Journal on Mrs. Eddy's unpublished/unknown poems. It clarified one point on the comment that prompted the previous entry. The first of three quatrains on page 54 (the slightly modified stanza from "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam") originally stood alone. It was later married up, for some unknown reason, with the other two quatrains, which I suspect are hers. The author of the article did not detect her borrowing, though I wouldn't have either since it's not one of the well-known (to me at any rate) verses from the "Rubaiyat".
If you like poetry there are a couple of featured poems in the November issue. "Sing gratitude's refrain" (page 57) is a Shakespearean sonnet with clunky, tin-eared rhymes, possibly in a clumsy attempt to breathe up-to-date life into the old form. Since it was an in-house effort, this lucubration apparently dodged the salubrious ministrations of an editor. Inexcusably, the writer seems ignorant of what the longshoremen, who figure largely in the poem, do. The result is as awkward and square-wheeled as the "misshapen steel" in the poem. I think Christian Scientists deserve better than this sort of stuff for their money, but if you see it differently let me know. The Peter J. Henniker-Heaton poem on page 31, a reprint, is much more satisfying to me, not that it's much of a contest.
I don't know if Journal/Sentinal even accepts unsolicited poems any more. Maybe they never really did, but if they do, here is an Xtreme challenge for those who like poetry and possess a touch of masochism. As you may suspect, my experiences in this bucolic field are like that of a Fuller Brush salesman [Is that far enough back for you?] who can't even get the lady of the house to come to the door. At least with articles, she came to the door and listened to my sales pitch before slamming the door in my face. My rejected poems came back, I'll swear, in the next day's mail. I don't know how they did it. Perhaps something like open the envelope, see that it's a poem, notice the name of that pesky author, add a standard rejection letter, and whoosh it's out the door without offending a single Olympian eye. Try it if they will accept unsolicited poems, and the bonus will be that after you have accumulated 40 or 50 rejections you'll have enough poems to publish your own book of verse for reading underneath the bough. You have nothing to lose but some hours of your time and some stamps--and maybe your poetic equanimity.
I finally read the informative article in the November Journal on Mrs. Eddy's unpublished/unknown poems. It clarified one point on the comment that prompted the previous entry. The first of three quatrains on page 54 (the slightly modified stanza from "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam") originally stood alone. It was later married up, for some unknown reason, with the other two quatrains, which I suspect are hers. The author of the article did not detect her borrowing, though I wouldn't have either since it's not one of the well-known (to me at any rate) verses from the "Rubaiyat".
If you like poetry there are a couple of featured poems in the November issue. "Sing gratitude's refrain" (page 57) is a Shakespearean sonnet with clunky, tin-eared rhymes, possibly in a clumsy attempt to breathe up-to-date life into the old form. Since it was an in-house effort, this lucubration apparently dodged the salubrious ministrations of an editor. Inexcusably, the writer seems ignorant of what the longshoremen, who figure largely in the poem, do. The result is as awkward and square-wheeled as the "misshapen steel" in the poem. I think Christian Scientists deserve better than this sort of stuff for their money, but if you see it differently let me know. The Peter J. Henniker-Heaton poem on page 31, a reprint, is much more satisfying to me, not that it's much of a contest.
I don't know if Journal/Sentinal even accepts unsolicited poems any more. Maybe they never really did, but if they do, here is an Xtreme challenge for those who like poetry and possess a touch of masochism. As you may suspect, my experiences in this bucolic field are like that of a Fuller Brush salesman [Is that far enough back for you?] who can't even get the lady of the house to come to the door. At least with articles, she came to the door and listened to my sales pitch before slamming the door in my face. My rejected poems came back, I'll swear, in the next day's mail. I don't know how they did it. Perhaps something like open the envelope, see that it's a poem, notice the name of that pesky author, add a standard rejection letter, and whoosh it's out the door without offending a single Olympian eye. Try it if they will accept unsolicited poems, and the bonus will be that after you have accumulated 40 or 50 rejections you'll have enough poems to publish your own book of verse for reading underneath the bough. You have nothing to lose but some hours of your time and some stamps--and maybe your poetic equanimity.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
"Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go"
A comment with query to a recent entry caused me to acquire a November Journal. I haven't yet perused it cap-a-pie, and I do not come to bury or praise this Caesar. To paraphrase Antony once again, if I seem to love the Journal and Sentinel less it is because I love Christian Science more. I know my reach is extremely limited and my influence even less, but once again I would like to encourage any of "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers [and sisters]" to submit something fresh, something you yourself would like to read, to the periodicals. They need it.
I am a poor one to say it, but the periodicals cannot be abandoned to the bog of mediocrity and "The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune". Every sincere Christian Scientist should have something helpful to say. If one decides to dip a reluctant tootsie into the waters, don't expect the first, or second, or maybe even tenth submission to be accepted. Initial efforts are seldom, if ever, very good, no matter how devotedly we may be attached to each of our precious offspring, especially the first, and how much we may resent in high dudgeon our child's barbaric rejection. Persist, persist.
Do not use what is currently there as a model. The numbing blandness and prolixity of much of the prose can be exasperating, and tired cliches poke up their insolent heads with crabgrass-like persistence. Think freshly. We all reflect the one infinite Mind and are uniquely individual. Share the inspiration you have gleaned from your studies, prayers, and experiences. Don't be discouraged by or resentful of rejection. It won't help, and others may as a result be denied what you have to offer. Ask God for help and protect the help He freely gives. Get a copy of Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. It's short and full of helpful hints. A varied menu of high-quality supplementary reading won't hurt either.
It is off-putting that almost every article, in this Journal at least--Mrs. Eddy's Christian Science Journal--seems aimed at a reader for whom that article will be his or her first exposure to C.S. Why does nearly every article need to revisit ad nauseam elementary concepts? Is every reader seen as a metaphysical toddler in diapers? My recent accusation of CSPS humorlessness was maybe a bit unfair, which the back cover of the November Journal will verify. For the actual or perennial 5-10 year-old it might be a delight, but I wonder if Mrs. Eddy would find this embarrassingly juvenile material acceptable in or on her Journal? One might think it was a kiddie magazine.
The inquiry that gave rise to all this had to do with the three quatrains on page 54. It was stated that the first was really Omar Khayyam, but whose were the other two? The first is indeed from "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam" [italics on the fritz again] (Edward Fitzgerald translation) with a few small changes. The other two quotations I do not recognize. They are probably original with her and don't seem to me to be particularly noteworthy. She was not, to me at any rate, a particularly fine poet, much as she loved poetry and wrote it all her life. Her borrowings from others are a curious fact, but they are, I believe, the borrowings of an unconsciously sympathetic and retentive heart rather than a dishonest head. The subject has no doubt been well served by many of her vicious detractors. Start with Gill if the subject interests you.
I am a poor one to say it, but the periodicals cannot be abandoned to the bog of mediocrity and "The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune". Every sincere Christian Scientist should have something helpful to say. If one decides to dip a reluctant tootsie into the waters, don't expect the first, or second, or maybe even tenth submission to be accepted. Initial efforts are seldom, if ever, very good, no matter how devotedly we may be attached to each of our precious offspring, especially the first, and how much we may resent in high dudgeon our child's barbaric rejection. Persist, persist.
Do not use what is currently there as a model. The numbing blandness and prolixity of much of the prose can be exasperating, and tired cliches poke up their insolent heads with crabgrass-like persistence. Think freshly. We all reflect the one infinite Mind and are uniquely individual. Share the inspiration you have gleaned from your studies, prayers, and experiences. Don't be discouraged by or resentful of rejection. It won't help, and others may as a result be denied what you have to offer. Ask God for help and protect the help He freely gives. Get a copy of Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. It's short and full of helpful hints. A varied menu of high-quality supplementary reading won't hurt either.
It is off-putting that almost every article, in this Journal at least--Mrs. Eddy's Christian Science Journal--seems aimed at a reader for whom that article will be his or her first exposure to C.S. Why does nearly every article need to revisit ad nauseam elementary concepts? Is every reader seen as a metaphysical toddler in diapers? My recent accusation of CSPS humorlessness was maybe a bit unfair, which the back cover of the November Journal will verify. For the actual or perennial 5-10 year-old it might be a delight, but I wonder if Mrs. Eddy would find this embarrassingly juvenile material acceptable in or on her Journal? One might think it was a kiddie magazine.
The inquiry that gave rise to all this had to do with the three quatrains on page 54. It was stated that the first was really Omar Khayyam, but whose were the other two? The first is indeed from "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam" [italics on the fritz again] (Edward Fitzgerald translation) with a few small changes. The other two quotations I do not recognize. They are probably original with her and don't seem to me to be particularly noteworthy. She was not, to me at any rate, a particularly fine poet, much as she loved poetry and wrote it all her life. Her borrowings from others are a curious fact, but they are, I believe, the borrowings of an unconsciously sympathetic and retentive heart rather than a dishonest head. The subject has no doubt been well served by many of her vicious detractors. Start with Gill if the subject interests you.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
"I find Thy font and thirst no more."
Many weary Israelites in the sere and sunless wilderness of mortal mind seem to prefer, in a mesmeric perversity, their blissless and bitter wanderings to the strife and warfare which are necessary to procure their deliverance. Kaspar Hauser would understand. There will be no dying, waiting, or loafing their way out of it, nor will there be a consoling sop for the feckless laggard.
One will remain an itinerant Israelite or through many wrestlings and struggles with error become one of the Children of Israel. Brother bird, with which of these flocks do you choose to perch upon the bending branch? The decision is ours. The grumbling of the disobedient Israelites for water at Massah (testing, temptation), or Meribah (strife, contention), illustrates one lesson the wilderness experience offers. Even Christ Jesus was tempted in the wilderness at the end of his 40 days there, recalling the Israelite's 40 years (see Matthew 4). The devil came to tempt him, and three times (another significant number) Christ Jesus rejected the temptations, the final time with the righteous command of Truth, "Get thee hence, Satan".
No one simple lesson can be distilled from the Israelite's experience or that of Christ Jesus, but one admonition we can take from either is that strife, struggle, and mighty wrestlings will be necessary to overcome the multitude of temptations that keep us in the wilderness and deny us the dawn of that kindly Light, a "spiritual sense which unfolds the great facts of existence". (S&H 597: 18-19) Our dear Leader assures the dispirited wanderer: ". . . we can become conscious, here and now, of a cessation of death, sorrow, and pain. This is indeed a foretaste of absolute Christian Science. Take heart, dear sufferer, for this reality of being will surely appear sometime and in some way." (S&H 573: 26-30)
One will remain an itinerant Israelite or through many wrestlings and struggles with error become one of the Children of Israel. Brother bird, with which of these flocks do you choose to perch upon the bending branch? The decision is ours. The grumbling of the disobedient Israelites for water at Massah (testing, temptation), or Meribah (strife, contention), illustrates one lesson the wilderness experience offers. Even Christ Jesus was tempted in the wilderness at the end of his 40 days there, recalling the Israelite's 40 years (see Matthew 4). The devil came to tempt him, and three times (another significant number) Christ Jesus rejected the temptations, the final time with the righteous command of Truth, "Get thee hence, Satan".
No one simple lesson can be distilled from the Israelite's experience or that of Christ Jesus, but one admonition we can take from either is that strife, struggle, and mighty wrestlings will be necessary to overcome the multitude of temptations that keep us in the wilderness and deny us the dawn of that kindly Light, a "spiritual sense which unfolds the great facts of existence". (S&H 597: 18-19) Our dear Leader assures the dispirited wanderer: ". . . we can become conscious, here and now, of a cessation of death, sorrow, and pain. This is indeed a foretaste of absolute Christian Science. Take heart, dear sufferer, for this reality of being will surely appear sometime and in some way." (S&H 573: 26-30)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Does Wit Preclude Wisdom or Wisdom Wit?
Sergei Rachmaninoff was a great composer and pianist and a noteworthy conductor. He did not have, though, a buoyant personality, but was rather like a bipedal manifestation of gloom. Someone once described him (a tall man) as a six-foot scowl. This did not, however diminish his musical greatness. It obviously will not do, on the other hand, for Christian Scientists to present themselves (or their Church) to the world as staid, sobersided Eeyores (ref. "Winnie-the-Pooh")--though this doesn't imply that all or even most do.
The total (or very nearly total) absence of humor in the Bible and writings of Mary Baker Eddy is understandable. Theology has never been a trove of jocund or jocular fare. That said, one wonders why Christian Science writing needs to be (or seems to many to be) so dully monochromatic, as if an appreciative snicker at some clever turn of phrase would defile Christ Jesus' words and works and Christian Science and consign the unfortunate reader to eternal damnation. Years ago an editor for the periodicals told me (my thumbnail summary of the conversation) that a Monitor columnist, Melvin Maddox (sp?), was the (apparently one-off) standard for levity in the periodicals. He was an excellent writer, but I do not recall ever losing a button or indulging in a prolonged chortle over anything he wrote. It was decidedly buttoned-down hilarity.
I am certainly not advocating that humor should be slathered indiscriminately like ketchup on every verbal morsal or in every C.S. conversation. Most religious subjects don't lend themselves readily to lightheartedness, which certainly needs to be used naturally and judiciously, but in my admittedly limited past dealings with CSPS they seemed to recoil from humor with the same terror and revulsion that the toons in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" had for The Dip.
A chuckle or good laugh at the right moment can help break and dispel the mesmerism and miasma of some of mortal mind's oppressive false beliefs and promote healing. Humor can help provide welcome light to an otherwise cold, dark, and dreary day. A non-Scientist could well get, at times, the impression that in our strait-laced scheme of things we regard risibility to be a first cousin to crapulence or the use of smack or coke. (The puzzling disappearance or erosion of some needful and strengthening standards is another subject and not one ripe for humorus treatment.) It is true humor can be cutting and even caustic, but it need not be. If the basis for a joke is a common human failing or foible, what's the harm? Not many of us would fail to benefit from heeding the gentle prod that a good guffaw at our own expense might provide.
The total (or very nearly total) absence of humor in the Bible and writings of Mary Baker Eddy is understandable. Theology has never been a trove of jocund or jocular fare. That said, one wonders why Christian Science writing needs to be (or seems to many to be) so dully monochromatic, as if an appreciative snicker at some clever turn of phrase would defile Christ Jesus' words and works and Christian Science and consign the unfortunate reader to eternal damnation. Years ago an editor for the periodicals told me (my thumbnail summary of the conversation) that a Monitor columnist, Melvin Maddox (sp?), was the (apparently one-off) standard for levity in the periodicals. He was an excellent writer, but I do not recall ever losing a button or indulging in a prolonged chortle over anything he wrote. It was decidedly buttoned-down hilarity.
I am certainly not advocating that humor should be slathered indiscriminately like ketchup on every verbal morsal or in every C.S. conversation. Most religious subjects don't lend themselves readily to lightheartedness, which certainly needs to be used naturally and judiciously, but in my admittedly limited past dealings with CSPS they seemed to recoil from humor with the same terror and revulsion that the toons in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" had for The Dip.
A chuckle or good laugh at the right moment can help break and dispel the mesmerism and miasma of some of mortal mind's oppressive false beliefs and promote healing. Humor can help provide welcome light to an otherwise cold, dark, and dreary day. A non-Scientist could well get, at times, the impression that in our strait-laced scheme of things we regard risibility to be a first cousin to crapulence or the use of smack or coke. (The puzzling disappearance or erosion of some needful and strengthening standards is another subject and not one ripe for humorus treatment.) It is true humor can be cutting and even caustic, but it need not be. If the basis for a joke is a common human failing or foible, what's the harm? Not many of us would fail to benefit from heeding the gentle prod that a good guffaw at our own expense might provide.
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