I am glad that my parting remark in the second entry before this one was not, apparently, greatly misinterpreted. I intended to put a note on the last entry, but Concerned must have had me in a hopeless tizzy. My remark was aimed at the proliferating kudzu, and that seems to have been understood in spite of a few angry gibes.
Concerned's latest remarks are interesting and obviously sincere. I may be wrong, but Concerned may be of a later generation or two than I, a generation which might not view, say, '50's Sentinels and Journals as superior in all respects to those today. I believe the goal of Christian Science and the periodicals is to attract those very few "honest seekers for Truth", not everyone who can be dragooned into joining ready or not. One million new "members" with scant interest in or understanding of Christian Science would not somehow result in a critical mass reaction leading to a revitilization of the Church (though Concerned made no such claim).
I do feel Concerned is inclined to cut the Board too much slack. They don't seem to mind slicing themselves a most generous piece of the financial pie, but come up way short (I think) where blessings and benefits to Christian Science and the Church are concerned. Of course it's a huge challenge, but truly honest "Directors" would compensate themselves as businesses do for their top executives: offer a very modest base salary and then set some challenging--repeat, challenging--goals and pay a bonus only on their achievement. That would certainly separate genuine pontifices from phony panhandlers, but that is not going to happen where those who make the rules also get to referee the game.
I'll step aside and let our Leader squeeze in a few words: "To strike out right and left against the mist, never clears the vision; but to lift your head above it, is a sovereign panacea." (Mis 355: 16-18) The whole crackerjack article ("The Way"), from which this quote comes, needs in fact to be burned into my consciousness. No one would ever lose a thing by forgetting me and reading her. She is indeed the quill.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
This Time, I Hope It's Asher To Ashes
I will willingly agree with those readers--probably now erstwhile readers--who said in effect that far too many zeros and ones have been wasted on the Planet Waves brouhaha. By now I may only be writing to myself and maybe Concerned until he/she extracts his pound of flesh. However, it does at last appear plausible that Concerned's arguments may have some legs, but Ms. Asher's delayed and various "Rashoman"-like explanations and "apologies" still seem like game but lame attempts to get the toothpaste back in the tube. If the sphinx at the center of this had chosen, like Garbo, to finally speak, it would never I suspect have amounted to a cat's meow. The question still remains, if it was untrue why didn't Ms. Trammell land on it within hours in outraged indignation? I also see no evidence that Concerned and other stout defenders of Ms. Trammell today uttered a whisper in her defense then. Does the Church no longer have a COP? Ms. Asher is (or was, she seems to have vanished without a trace) hardly a person in whose mouth or on whose web site one would like to find his good name. You can verify this for yourself on some old information on the Planet Waves site.
I regret having been guilty, like Toyotas, of some "unexpected acceleration" of my own. I had my foot on the accelerator when it should probably have been firmly on the brake. Shame on me. Nevertheless something noteworthy has been brought to light once again by this dustup: the unchristian treatment meted out to anyone with the temerity to raise any unpleasant issue or who has an honest disagreement with or question to ask of the self-righteous and infallible pontificate in Boston. Check wih Elaine Natale (now Davidson, I think), "Matters of Conscience", or the three obviously Christly and highly-respected teachers of "Speaking the Truth in Love". I know of others as well. The typical tactic used against such as these, no matter how heart-felt and sincere their petitions, is to treat them like troublesome and disloyal vermin and eradicate them professionally.
In yesterday's Wall Street Journal there was an article on the effect of budget cuts on police forces in cities. The article focussed on Tulsa, Oklahoma. An incident was described where only one officer was dispatched to a shooting at a fast food place. There was an angry mob there which was beyond the ability of one officer to cope with adequately, but the part of the story that caught my eye was the description of "patrons" of the place casually and callously stepping over the shooting victim (who was in fact dying) in their hurry to get their fast food and go. What I fear is that long-time, loyal members of the Mother Church, like me, have become inexcusably indifferent to and completely apathetic about what has gone on for years at the Mother Church. It is precisely this situation (or my perception of the situation) which motivated "The Broken Net". The Church of my childhood and much of my adulthood is going, going, if not already long gone. Permanently? Not if we loyal and dedicated Scientists get busy.
I regret having been guilty, like Toyotas, of some "unexpected acceleration" of my own. I had my foot on the accelerator when it should probably have been firmly on the brake. Shame on me. Nevertheless something noteworthy has been brought to light once again by this dustup: the unchristian treatment meted out to anyone with the temerity to raise any unpleasant issue or who has an honest disagreement with or question to ask of the self-righteous and infallible pontificate in Boston. Check wih Elaine Natale (now Davidson, I think), "Matters of Conscience", or the three obviously Christly and highly-respected teachers of "Speaking the Truth in Love". I know of others as well. The typical tactic used against such as these, no matter how heart-felt and sincere their petitions, is to treat them like troublesome and disloyal vermin and eradicate them professionally.
In yesterday's Wall Street Journal there was an article on the effect of budget cuts on police forces in cities. The article focussed on Tulsa, Oklahoma. An incident was described where only one officer was dispatched to a shooting at a fast food place. There was an angry mob there which was beyond the ability of one officer to cope with adequately, but the part of the story that caught my eye was the description of "patrons" of the place casually and callously stepping over the shooting victim (who was in fact dying) in their hurry to get their fast food and go. What I fear is that long-time, loyal members of the Mother Church, like me, have become inexcusably indifferent to and completely apathetic about what has gone on for years at the Mother Church. It is precisely this situation (or my perception of the situation) which motivated "The Broken Net". The Church of my childhood and much of my adulthood is going, going, if not already long gone. Permanently? Not if we loyal and dedicated Scientists get busy.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
To InSupportOfTruth et al.
To InSupportOfTruth, you are a little vague on what the Christly Mr. Black did that was so misunderstood or misinterpreted. So apparently it's ok to poke "innocent" fun at Mrs. Eddy or make light of her travails? Why would a Board member with even a particle of love and respect for Mrs. Eddy or Christian Science even contemplate such questionable shenanigans? The word ingrate comes to mind--along with some others.
To the assertion that Ms. Asher "freely admits" the whole Planet Waves thingy was just a "bad joke", I say hogwash. When and where exactly did she freely admit it--in pantomime in the solitude of her Planet Waves office? Ms. Asher's laughable claim that it was all a parody came a good two months after her web site posting. As I said then, parody of what, that Ms. Trammell had a sweet tooth for horoscopes and eriscopes and accompanied Ms. Asher to Meow Mix, a lesbian bar? Then maybe a month after that Ms. Asher claimed in apparent desperation that it was all made up. I'm afraid the aspic had jelled long before that Hail Mary.
The claim that Ms. Trammell was interested in the Planet Waves "business model" is too specific to be made up and, anyway, Ms. Asher must have had a fairly intimate knowledge of Ms. Trammell to write what she did whether fact or fiction. And what about Ms. Asher's quoting of the also still silent John Yemma that "spaciness is next to godliness" or something like that? Quotes like Ms. Asher's don't just drop from the sky like bird poop.
The revelation that Ms. Trammell was hurt by the Planet Waves expose almost had me heading for the Kleenex. Good heavens, woman, if it was so painfully untrue why didn't you speak up? Did that naughty cat get your tongue? Boiled down, the undeniable residue is this: Neither Ms. Trammell nor Mr. Black has ever denied (publicly at any rate) one jot or tittle of either story. And it doesn't take a syllogism to deduce the meaning of either's silence.
Finally, it is unfortunate that this blog is being preempted by some interlopers who gallop about therein prolixly on their self-serving hobbyhorses. It may be necessary to eliminate comments for a while if this continues. To Whom This May Concern: Please set up your own blogs and have at it to your wordy hearts' content.
To the assertion that Ms. Asher "freely admits" the whole Planet Waves thingy was just a "bad joke", I say hogwash. When and where exactly did she freely admit it--in pantomime in the solitude of her Planet Waves office? Ms. Asher's laughable claim that it was all a parody came a good two months after her web site posting. As I said then, parody of what, that Ms. Trammell had a sweet tooth for horoscopes and eriscopes and accompanied Ms. Asher to Meow Mix, a lesbian bar? Then maybe a month after that Ms. Asher claimed in apparent desperation that it was all made up. I'm afraid the aspic had jelled long before that Hail Mary.
The claim that Ms. Trammell was interested in the Planet Waves "business model" is too specific to be made up and, anyway, Ms. Asher must have had a fairly intimate knowledge of Ms. Trammell to write what she did whether fact or fiction. And what about Ms. Asher's quoting of the also still silent John Yemma that "spaciness is next to godliness" or something like that? Quotes like Ms. Asher's don't just drop from the sky like bird poop.
The revelation that Ms. Trammell was hurt by the Planet Waves expose almost had me heading for the Kleenex. Good heavens, woman, if it was so painfully untrue why didn't you speak up? Did that naughty cat get your tongue? Boiled down, the undeniable residue is this: Neither Ms. Trammell nor Mr. Black has ever denied (publicly at any rate) one jot or tittle of either story. And it doesn't take a syllogism to deduce the meaning of either's silence.
Finally, it is unfortunate that this blog is being preempted by some interlopers who gallop about therein prolixly on their self-serving hobbyhorses. It may be necessary to eliminate comments for a while if this continues. To Whom This May Concern: Please set up your own blogs and have at it to your wordy hearts' content.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Like Concerned, I Too Am Concerned
One of Concerned's comments to the second entry before this one is that Mr. Hartsook is not known to check his sources carefully. This argument is nothing but a red herring, the real import of which is that his sources invariably have something unpleasant to report about Board goings-on and are therefore, by definition, highly suspect. The only real issue is, was the Banner report regarding Brown's detestable behavior correct or incorrect? I have not heard of one peep of refutation. I know I'd hop on the story quicker than a starved flea on a fat dog if I were wrongly accused. The silent non-response to this, as well as to the Planet Waves revelations, gives a fig to any nosy Church member who feels he deserves an explanation. To paraphrase the old adage, they think it better to remain silent and thought to be afflicted with a bad case of moral dry rot than to open their mouths and remove all doubt.
It is ironic that the only denial by the Board I can recall was that knee-slapper when they claimed the publishing of Bliss Knapp's "Destiny of the Mother Church" had nothing to do with the $93 million (they hoped, of course, for the whole enchilada of $186 million) in loot, this in light of the Church's refusal for half a century to sell out and publish it. It's a good thing the Pinocchio effect didn't follow that one. The Board would have looked like a cluster of tryouts for the role of Cyrano de Bergerac.
Silly question: When you have empty or soon to be empty buildings gawking at you all across the Church Center, why do you throw up a new one and create yet another blazing sink hole that requires constant financial stoking--after the rosy prediction of haj-like throngs of visitors? Emboldened, it would seem, instead of chastened by past megalomaniacal disasters, most notably the $750 million (give or take a few tens of millions) Monitor Telivision/Monitor debacle and its equally inexplicable sibling, the aforementioned library, it looks like the Captains Crunch are turning their Titanic once again into an ocean infested with icebergs of risk and folly and going intrepidly for an all-or-nothing calamitous hat trick, this time in real estate development. Say it ain't so, Joe.
Concerned also said if you don't like what's in the periodicals send in something yourself. On the surface that's good advice, especially for members of the cozy inner circle, who obviously aren't the ones with a problem, but if one can stand the sight of his tender little pullet emerging from editorial processing plucked and eviscerated, then it might be worth trying, but you had better have a well-stocked hen house and a strong stomach for mayhem inflicted on innocent things.
It is ironic that the only denial by the Board I can recall was that knee-slapper when they claimed the publishing of Bliss Knapp's "Destiny of the Mother Church" had nothing to do with the $93 million (they hoped, of course, for the whole enchilada of $186 million) in loot, this in light of the Church's refusal for half a century to sell out and publish it. It's a good thing the Pinocchio effect didn't follow that one. The Board would have looked like a cluster of tryouts for the role of Cyrano de Bergerac.
Silly question: When you have empty or soon to be empty buildings gawking at you all across the Church Center, why do you throw up a new one and create yet another blazing sink hole that requires constant financial stoking--after the rosy prediction of haj-like throngs of visitors? Emboldened, it would seem, instead of chastened by past megalomaniacal disasters, most notably the $750 million (give or take a few tens of millions) Monitor Telivision/Monitor debacle and its equally inexplicable sibling, the aforementioned library, it looks like the Captains Crunch are turning their Titanic once again into an ocean infested with icebergs of risk and folly and going intrepidly for an all-or-nothing calamitous hat trick, this time in real estate development. Say it ain't so, Joe.
Concerned also said if you don't like what's in the periodicals send in something yourself. On the surface that's good advice, especially for members of the cozy inner circle, who obviously aren't the ones with a problem, but if one can stand the sight of his tender little pullet emerging from editorial processing plucked and eviscerated, then it might be worth trying, but you had better have a well-stocked hen house and a strong stomach for mayhem inflicted on innocent things.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The Laborer Is Worthy Of His Hire, But . . .
As long as the milk of generous contributions flowed freely, the Pooh-Bahs of the Mother Church were utterly (or udderly) content to batten at the Old Faithful of the Church Treasurer's breast. A disturbing ebb in this largess no doubt prompted the search for a more reliable, or at least supplemental, breast upon which to feed, and the quest for a sure-fire business model (though probably not the once-seductive Planet Waves model) was born. But, O dear, how the blissfully nursing infant recoils from any carking cares. Far better the warm security of some readily available milk from the maternal breast of the Mother Church or a convenient cash cow than the awful specter of weaning, which a scientific demonstration of true supply through Christian Science would require.
No one doubts that it is, to human sense at least, extremely difficult to make a living as a practitioner, which is probably one reason so many have left their impecunious home-town labors for the big payout that beckons in Boston, even if it means enduring the rough-and-tumble of the scrum in the MC office which dispenses CSB's, lectureships, and the occasional lagnaippe of high office. The rush to these bestowals ignores one sad fact of these deeply materialistic times, that it is pretty much a zero-sum game if one is looking for "honest seekers for Truth". Even the most generously endowed sow has only so many dispensaries. The perceptible decline in recent years in the quality of practitioners, teachers, and lecturers is one byproduct of this growth in the ranks of mercenaries who "have gun, will travel" (at your not-inconsiderable expense). It is also quite likely that the once careful, if not rigorous, vetting process for primary class pupils is as much a thing of the past as Bill Clinton's chastity. A mirror beneath the nostrils is probably sufficient for some teachers in our desperate times. Supply now seems to be routinely "demonstrated" in the pockets of the bamboozled, blandished, and befuddled.
Christ and Christian Science demand that each adherent demonstrate it. I certainly include myself in that number who could do this a whole lot better, but I know of nothing in the teachings of Christ Jesus or Mary Baker Eddy which authorizes a hypocritical priestly caste which is entitled to nurse parasitically in perpetuity on the milk of others' kindnesses, however voluntarily those kindnesses were extracted, rather than vigorously and clearly demonstrating spiritually and scientifically what they ostensibly stand (and get well paid) for.
No one doubts that it is, to human sense at least, extremely difficult to make a living as a practitioner, which is probably one reason so many have left their impecunious home-town labors for the big payout that beckons in Boston, even if it means enduring the rough-and-tumble of the scrum in the MC office which dispenses CSB's, lectureships, and the occasional lagnaippe of high office. The rush to these bestowals ignores one sad fact of these deeply materialistic times, that it is pretty much a zero-sum game if one is looking for "honest seekers for Truth". Even the most generously endowed sow has only so many dispensaries. The perceptible decline in recent years in the quality of practitioners, teachers, and lecturers is one byproduct of this growth in the ranks of mercenaries who "have gun, will travel" (at your not-inconsiderable expense). It is also quite likely that the once careful, if not rigorous, vetting process for primary class pupils is as much a thing of the past as Bill Clinton's chastity. A mirror beneath the nostrils is probably sufficient for some teachers in our desperate times. Supply now seems to be routinely "demonstrated" in the pockets of the bamboozled, blandished, and befuddled.
Christ and Christian Science demand that each adherent demonstrate it. I certainly include myself in that number who could do this a whole lot better, but I know of nothing in the teachings of Christ Jesus or Mary Baker Eddy which authorizes a hypocritical priestly caste which is entitled to nurse parasitically in perpetuity on the milk of others' kindnesses, however voluntarily those kindnesses were extracted, rather than vigorously and clearly demonstrating spiritually and scientifically what they ostensibly stand (and get well paid) for.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
An Open Letter to the Board of The Mother Church
It is a conundrum that those positions in the Mother Church which demand the most pure, dedicated, loyal, selfless, and spiritual of Christian Scientists have for at least the past two or three decades fallen instead into the hands of the most crass and despicable of Scientists. Tom Black's cruel and contemptibly debased mocking of Mrs. Eddy in her agonizing trials as she stood alone courageously against the allied forces of evil in order to bring to us her great Discovery was disgustingly tasteless and depraved. It would have been an inexcusable act for a degenerate, which, come to think of it, it must have been.
Alas, this was only the latest on a very long list of injustices, insults, and indignities committed against the Church and its Leader over the past couple or three decades. By so doing you have only demonstrated once again your total lack of fitness to represent the Church, much less run it. Would you not do just one kind and selfless deed for the Church after all your faithless years, namely, depart from it? This wouldn't require what are obviously far beyond your ken, Christly love, compassion for others, and a heartfelt respect for your Leader, but simply a little grudging consideration for those who have, as humbly as they know how, "named the name of Christ", however imperfectly.
I write this with scant expectation it will ever pass before any of your supercilious eyes or be read even if it did, but my love for Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy--their countless sacrifices and trials, their selfless labors, their priceless examples and legacies, and the many blessings they have bestowed upon me--compel me to write. I am sure that if by some miracle you did read this letter it would be self-righteously dismissed out of hand because its author did not have the courage to sign it, and, of course, you would never respond to anonymous trash. So be it. Having no more respect for you than I do for Judas Iscariot, I wouldn't care to get a response from you anyway and could not hope to get honest, straightforward answers even if you condescended to do so. Your certain antipathy to my assertions is, however, insignificant in comparison to the betrayal of Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy it would have been if I had simply said nothing and given you yet another of the apathetic free passes you so cynically count on.
Alas, this was only the latest on a very long list of injustices, insults, and indignities committed against the Church and its Leader over the past couple or three decades. By so doing you have only demonstrated once again your total lack of fitness to represent the Church, much less run it. Would you not do just one kind and selfless deed for the Church after all your faithless years, namely, depart from it? This wouldn't require what are obviously far beyond your ken, Christly love, compassion for others, and a heartfelt respect for your Leader, but simply a little grudging consideration for those who have, as humbly as they know how, "named the name of Christ", however imperfectly.
I write this with scant expectation it will ever pass before any of your supercilious eyes or be read even if it did, but my love for Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy--their countless sacrifices and trials, their selfless labors, their priceless examples and legacies, and the many blessings they have bestowed upon me--compel me to write. I am sure that if by some miracle you did read this letter it would be self-righteously dismissed out of hand because its author did not have the courage to sign it, and, of course, you would never respond to anonymous trash. So be it. Having no more respect for you than I do for Judas Iscariot, I wouldn't care to get a response from you anyway and could not hope to get honest, straightforward answers even if you condescended to do so. Your certain antipathy to my assertions is, however, insignificant in comparison to the betrayal of Christ Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy it would have been if I had simply said nothing and given you yet another of the apathetic free passes you so cynically count on.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The M.C. Eminence Greasy Advises the Board
Now that we're all huddled together down here with the ice machines in the basement of the Publishing Society, it's time to kick some keister and restore the Church Center to its former glory. First, l'elephant blanc. What? The Library, Mary. What were you people thinking when you built that thing? Just a rhetorical question, since I know only too well what you were thinking. Anyway. To give it some much needed pizzazz, reopen the espresso bar and add an atmospheric (maybe stars and planets, Mary) saloon. Then how about a branch of Meow Mix and something like it for the gents--Tom Mix, let's call it? That should bring in some of the "elusive spondulicks". Squiffed "researchers" can then go upstairs and rummage through the drug-addled old lady's letters and personal papers. Finally, we'll let The Salvation Army and maybe a full-service pharmacy have some space, if there's room, in this mini-mall on the ground floor. They would lend some real class and give us a couple of "betterment of humanity" pegs to hang our chapeaus on.
Now, Mary, let's have some spicy centerfolds in the Journal--full color, but not too tasteless. You know what I mean, I'm sure. They could be called Cuddly Candy Strip(p)er of the month and Scientific Stud of the month. Next, Trammell, Harris, and Gill can work on revising Science and Health and the Church Manual. Cut out all the boring and wet-blanket crap. End up with one slim volume the size of an i-phone. That'll show folks we're with the times. Next, make sure our medical guru,Virginia, and one of the J-boys keep on top of the Bible lesson committee. We want a deck as cold as we can make it, and the suckers who use it will still think they're getting an honest "deal". Lectures will be packages of mass-produced baloney sprinkled with a few platitudes and some pixie dust. Lecturers will be little more than sales reps chosen for their willingness to say whatever we tell them to in return for a nice payday. We want more paying church members, and I don't care if they are Tiger Woods, Nancy Pelosi, or a foul-mouthed Joe in his cups. Kaching, kaching is the theme song of The Mother Church, Inc., LLC.
Finally, for the nonce, we'll turn to the Original Edifice and convert all that wasted space into a flop house and drug rehabilitation center. The hoi polloi can even bring their libations over from the Library and crash. What? Quit giggling over your eriscope, Mary, I said hoi polloi, not hooey pooey. Talk to her Nate. We can turn Mother's Room into a cozy boudoir for indigents with a little extra change in their pockets. Charges will be modest, but realistic. Don't forget, we're running a business, boys and girls, not a church! This should show the critical rabble out there and the New York Times how much we love and care for our fellow man. If this place was good enough for the invalid junkie who built it, Tom, it should be good enough for them.
Let's close this confab with a prayer. Call Father Whatshisname for the Paternoster. Busy? Never mind. Group dismissed.
Now, Mary, let's have some spicy centerfolds in the Journal--full color, but not too tasteless. You know what I mean, I'm sure. They could be called Cuddly Candy Strip(p)er of the month and Scientific Stud of the month. Next, Trammell, Harris, and Gill can work on revising Science and Health and the Church Manual. Cut out all the boring and wet-blanket crap. End up with one slim volume the size of an i-phone. That'll show folks we're with the times. Next, make sure our medical guru,Virginia, and one of the J-boys keep on top of the Bible lesson committee. We want a deck as cold as we can make it, and the suckers who use it will still think they're getting an honest "deal". Lectures will be packages of mass-produced baloney sprinkled with a few platitudes and some pixie dust. Lecturers will be little more than sales reps chosen for their willingness to say whatever we tell them to in return for a nice payday. We want more paying church members, and I don't care if they are Tiger Woods, Nancy Pelosi, or a foul-mouthed Joe in his cups. Kaching, kaching is the theme song of The Mother Church, Inc., LLC.
Finally, for the nonce, we'll turn to the Original Edifice and convert all that wasted space into a flop house and drug rehabilitation center. The hoi polloi can even bring their libations over from the Library and crash. What? Quit giggling over your eriscope, Mary, I said hoi polloi, not hooey pooey. Talk to her Nate. We can turn Mother's Room into a cozy boudoir for indigents with a little extra change in their pockets. Charges will be modest, but realistic. Don't forget, we're running a business, boys and girls, not a church! This should show the critical rabble out there and the New York Times how much we love and care for our fellow man. If this place was good enough for the invalid junkie who built it, Tom, it should be good enough for them.
Let's close this confab with a prayer. Call Father Whatshisname for the Paternoster. Busy? Never mind. Group dismissed.
Friday, April 9, 2010
C.S. Schnorrer [Mis]Management and Real Estate
I was at work on my next entry when the Mercury (Winged Messenger) of Andrew Hartsook's latest "Banner" (Spring 2010) rumbled into my study like a freight train, temporarily diverting my little choo-choo onto a siding. Just when some readers may have thought my last entry about the periodical situation in Bean Town was a bit too caustic, this newsletter arrives. I cannot urge too strongly that all sympathetic readers of this blog obtain it posthaste, if they haven't seen it already.
The Banner's inditing of the MC BOD's returning again and again to their vomit confirms much of what I have written over the past couple of years. The Board--individually and collectively--is too all appearances wandering helplessly and hopelessly in the stygian darkness of moral and spiritual idiocy. Any light by which they might have seen the saving compass of Christ and Christian Science and been led out was obviously snuffed out years ago.
The following question appears at the end of the first paragraph of Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress": "What shall I do?" He later expands it to the more significant: "What shall I do to be saved?" As each of us navigates through the treacherous shoals, reefs, sand bars, and submerged wreckage of mortal mind and aggressive mental suggestion, he may need to ask the same questions. For me, one answer is that I must become a better example for mankind and for "honest seekers for Truth". It therefore seems only right that I should not be a party to any activity--church or otherwise--which is not scrupulously obedient to the Church Manual (letter and spirit) and the demands of Christian Science. This means refusing to support with my money or services any activity or church which violates these standards. Simply going along (compromising) with wrong-doing in order to get along in dishonest amity with fellow church members or my neighbor is disloyalty to God and my Leader.
The blessings which can result from being truthful to one's beliefs is beautifully illustrated in an article by Raymond L. Cox in the Salvation Army's "War Cry", which was exerpted in "Signs of theTimes" in the September 21, 1957, Sentinel [Remember when they were a pleasure to read?]. During the Civil War a Christian soldier, obviously in both senses, aroused the antagonism of his tent mates because every night before going to bed in his cot he would kneel in prayer at its side. Ongoing abusive language eventually led to physical violence, and he was advised by his chaplain that it might be wise to pray in bed. He started to do so one night, but his conscience was uneasy with this compromise of his principles. He then climbed out of his cot and resolved to resume his habit of kneeling in prayer, preferring "prayer with persecution to peace without it". In a few months his companion's hearts were touched and their spiritual interests awakened. "Eventually all of them began to kneel nightly in prayer with him."
The article continued: "Never ought a Christian to compromise his conscience or convictions. No advantage is likely to be gained by striking one's spiritual colors. Jesus commanded, 'Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' Some are sure to try to extinguish the light. . . . In spite of unfavorable reactions, Christians should never haul down their standard. Surely the prize is worth the price!" Very well said, and most of the non-quoted material also uses Mr. Cox's wording. In the words of the famous Pete Seeger labor song: "Which side are you on?"
Note: A reader recently asked my opinion of the current Sentinel. This and certainly the previous entry should give a pretty clear answer. I haven't read the Sentinel for a good 15 years and maybe more and may have seen only a half dozen copies during that period. It needs in my opinion to be handled with fireplace tongs, which is obviously a nuisance.
The Banner's inditing of the MC BOD's returning again and again to their vomit confirms much of what I have written over the past couple of years. The Board--individually and collectively--is too all appearances wandering helplessly and hopelessly in the stygian darkness of moral and spiritual idiocy. Any light by which they might have seen the saving compass of Christ and Christian Science and been led out was obviously snuffed out years ago.
The following question appears at the end of the first paragraph of Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress": "What shall I do?" He later expands it to the more significant: "What shall I do to be saved?" As each of us navigates through the treacherous shoals, reefs, sand bars, and submerged wreckage of mortal mind and aggressive mental suggestion, he may need to ask the same questions. For me, one answer is that I must become a better example for mankind and for "honest seekers for Truth". It therefore seems only right that I should not be a party to any activity--church or otherwise--which is not scrupulously obedient to the Church Manual (letter and spirit) and the demands of Christian Science. This means refusing to support with my money or services any activity or church which violates these standards. Simply going along (compromising) with wrong-doing in order to get along in dishonest amity with fellow church members or my neighbor is disloyalty to God and my Leader.
The blessings which can result from being truthful to one's beliefs is beautifully illustrated in an article by Raymond L. Cox in the Salvation Army's "War Cry", which was exerpted in "Signs of theTimes" in the September 21, 1957, Sentinel [Remember when they were a pleasure to read?]. During the Civil War a Christian soldier, obviously in both senses, aroused the antagonism of his tent mates because every night before going to bed in his cot he would kneel in prayer at its side. Ongoing abusive language eventually led to physical violence, and he was advised by his chaplain that it might be wise to pray in bed. He started to do so one night, but his conscience was uneasy with this compromise of his principles. He then climbed out of his cot and resolved to resume his habit of kneeling in prayer, preferring "prayer with persecution to peace without it". In a few months his companion's hearts were touched and their spiritual interests awakened. "Eventually all of them began to kneel nightly in prayer with him."
The article continued: "Never ought a Christian to compromise his conscience or convictions. No advantage is likely to be gained by striking one's spiritual colors. Jesus commanded, 'Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' Some are sure to try to extinguish the light. . . . In spite of unfavorable reactions, Christians should never haul down their standard. Surely the prize is worth the price!" Very well said, and most of the non-quoted material also uses Mr. Cox's wording. In the words of the famous Pete Seeger labor song: "Which side are you on?"
Note: A reader recently asked my opinion of the current Sentinel. This and certainly the previous entry should give a pretty clear answer. I haven't read the Sentinel for a good 15 years and maybe more and may have seen only a half dozen copies during that period. It needs in my opinion to be handled with fireplace tongs, which is obviously a nuisance.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Cupid and Concupiscent Cravings
It is true that sex is a difficult subject to discuss forthrightly in Christian Science. Tumescent urges are seldom dealt with or relieved satisfactorily by the Victorian delicacy with which they have historically been hot-potatoed in the periodicals. A friend recently directed me to "A Conversation with Ginny Luedeman" in the June 18, 2007, Sentinel.
Whew! What a read. Ridiculous sophistries and non sequiturs scamper about with the abandon of the Marx Brothers. Not for the intrepid Mrs. Luedeman is there any need to wrestle with the fussy and potentially troublesome distinction between eros, philos, and agape. Hey, when strict adherence to the Science, metaphysics, and spirit of Christian Science is relegated to post-coital pillow talk or perverted into spiritualized carnal love, you might as well let 'er rip. Hubba hubba! Mark Twain would have a field day in the erotic copse of this Palinesque conversation.
Maybe she uses a Harris (no, not Frank Harris) edition of "Science and Health" with a watered-down chapter on "Marriage", and she is a trifle fuzzy on how hot youth guiltlessly shares in the sexual delights that beckon the unmarried but still love-enraptured Scientist.
I was not enlightened by her "discussion" of chastity, and her statement "I like to think of myself kind of like a wrench in God's hand" is a hoot. At first I thought she meant "wench", but, no, wrench it is. Read it and weep, The idea that God would lend His loving hand to sexual activity --perhaps as a kind of divine stimulation--is a gross perversion of divine Science.
Many other tasty morsels could be cited, but my sides would ache and my breath be short long before I was finished. This interview only supports my stated belief that the periodicals will sink to any depth to get readers--even those with only a handful of condoms burning a hole in their pockets--but to what end?
Whew! What a read. Ridiculous sophistries and non sequiturs scamper about with the abandon of the Marx Brothers. Not for the intrepid Mrs. Luedeman is there any need to wrestle with the fussy and potentially troublesome distinction between eros, philos, and agape. Hey, when strict adherence to the Science, metaphysics, and spirit of Christian Science is relegated to post-coital pillow talk or perverted into spiritualized carnal love, you might as well let 'er rip. Hubba hubba! Mark Twain would have a field day in the erotic copse of this Palinesque conversation.
Maybe she uses a Harris (no, not Frank Harris) edition of "Science and Health" with a watered-down chapter on "Marriage", and she is a trifle fuzzy on how hot youth guiltlessly shares in the sexual delights that beckon the unmarried but still love-enraptured Scientist.
I was not enlightened by her "discussion" of chastity, and her statement "I like to think of myself kind of like a wrench in God's hand" is a hoot. At first I thought she meant "wench", but, no, wrench it is. Read it and weep, The idea that God would lend His loving hand to sexual activity --perhaps as a kind of divine stimulation--is a gross perversion of divine Science.
Many other tasty morsels could be cited, but my sides would ache and my breath be short long before I was finished. This interview only supports my stated belief that the periodicals will sink to any depth to get readers--even those with only a handful of condoms burning a hole in their pockets--but to what end?
Sunday, April 4, 2010
If Mrs. Eddy Were A Flea In All Our Ears
The sensual pleasures and attractions of Venusberg entice and beckon the christian of today no less than they did Tannhauser. He succumbed, but he later repented (to some of Wagner's glorious music). Easter certainly offers a good opportunity or impetus for anyone to continue his resurrection from the wholly false beliefs of life, truth, intelligence, and substance in matter, to cease being victimized by the material senses (S&H p. 294).
Anything which excites, delights, engages, or just soothes one's physical senses will tend to blur his spiritual vision and cause him to stumble into the mire of the Slough of Despond. He can then give up, like Obstinate and Pliable, and return to the City of Destruction or, like Christian, fight his way through to the far side of the slough and continue on his spiritual way to the Celestial City. One of John Bunyan's margin notes [I wonder if Mrs. Eddy got the idea from him?] early in "The Pilgrim's Progress" reads: "Christ and the way to him cannot be found without the Word". The exceedingly inspired Bunyan does not shilly-shally in trivial theological hairsplitting or distracting minutia. Christian gets into trouble when he is beguiled by Mr. Worldly-Wiseman, who ceaselessly peddles his palaver, to turn aside from the strait way and go into the village of Morality, a kind of village in the plain of Ono.
To return to my hobbyhorse of the previous entry, this is why any visual yoo-hoo in the periodicals can lead the undisciplined, incautious, or bovine thought to wander in the seductive and perilous Venusberg of the senses. The periodicals are obviously written for mortals, but not for mortals qua mortals, i.e., not in order to appeal to what is mortal in them, and not for their amusement, but for their edification. Pictures appeal most strongly to mortal man's visual sense. The Word speaks to man's consciousness, and as this consciousness is dematerialized Truth will grow clearer and more distinct to thought. If there is a need for the periodicals at all then there is a need for more inspired, penetrating, and timely articles, not for the pleasant opiates of pretty pictures, bric-a-brac, and froufrou.
Note: To EW, I meant by sprinter that my forte, to the extent I have one, is in short pieces, not the long-distance "race" of a book. Also, a book, to be worth the considerable effort it would take to write, would have to find someone willing to publish it and get it into bookstores, almost impossible challenges today for an unknown scribbler.
Anything which excites, delights, engages, or just soothes one's physical senses will tend to blur his spiritual vision and cause him to stumble into the mire of the Slough of Despond. He can then give up, like Obstinate and Pliable, and return to the City of Destruction or, like Christian, fight his way through to the far side of the slough and continue on his spiritual way to the Celestial City. One of John Bunyan's margin notes [I wonder if Mrs. Eddy got the idea from him?] early in "The Pilgrim's Progress" reads: "Christ and the way to him cannot be found without the Word". The exceedingly inspired Bunyan does not shilly-shally in trivial theological hairsplitting or distracting minutia. Christian gets into trouble when he is beguiled by Mr. Worldly-Wiseman, who ceaselessly peddles his palaver, to turn aside from the strait way and go into the village of Morality, a kind of village in the plain of Ono.
To return to my hobbyhorse of the previous entry, this is why any visual yoo-hoo in the periodicals can lead the undisciplined, incautious, or bovine thought to wander in the seductive and perilous Venusberg of the senses. The periodicals are obviously written for mortals, but not for mortals qua mortals, i.e., not in order to appeal to what is mortal in them, and not for their amusement, but for their edification. Pictures appeal most strongly to mortal man's visual sense. The Word speaks to man's consciousness, and as this consciousness is dematerialized Truth will grow clearer and more distinct to thought. If there is a need for the periodicals at all then there is a need for more inspired, penetrating, and timely articles, not for the pleasant opiates of pretty pictures, bric-a-brac, and froufrou.
Note: To EW, I meant by sprinter that my forte, to the extent I have one, is in short pieces, not the long-distance "race" of a book. Also, a book, to be worth the considerable effort it would take to write, would have to find someone willing to publish it and get it into bookstores, almost impossible challenges today for an unknown scribbler.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
"when ye read, ye may understand"
As I was browsing desultorily through the March Journal and staring glumly at this photo and that picture, the thought occurred to me that modern man is surfeited, dangerously distracted, and jaded with the visual (primarily) and aural cacophony in which he is cocooned. How easy it is to forget that the Lord leads his obedient sheep beside still waters, where they can clearly hear His ever-present still, small voice and be refreshed.
Is not the holy Word of God among the chief of these still waters? We lose a significant portion of our receptive innocence when we permit the distraction of sights and sounds to disrupt our sacred communion with the chaste beauty of truths articulated on the printed page. Mrs. Eddy's sole foray into the visual with printed was "Christ and Christmas", and she had to withdraw it for a time in part because the pictures were being used as ikons of a sort by some.
Yes, many intimidating versts of emptiness across the steppes of blank pages confront the editors of the periodicals weekly and monthly and surely tempt them to glom on to any scrap of flotsam or jetsam which could fill them. Miscellaneous pictures, travel photos, snapshots, extraneous visual stage business, and the soporific verbal drone of lengthy, very lengthy, interviews serve, faute de mieux apparently, as welcome fodder in the neverending search for material. But how does a photo of the Li River (p. 63 in the March Journal), beautiful as it is, support any spiritual message in the accompanying article? Or the picture of the Liverpool waterfront (pp. 20-21)? Is the Journal a serious publication or a travel magazine, and are not picture books one of the childish things most of us put behind as we enter adulthood?
What is so distasteful about the straightforward, unadorned, pacific, all-print dignity of the old Sentinels and Journals? Christian Science isn't a religious Disneyland or a stop on a grand tour. The periodicals should be as calming, uplifting, sober, inspiring, and challenging as their subject. Of course a serious search for and openness to new and invigorating writers would need to be undertaken, a real challenge since there is a paucity of such writers even now. Sincere and inspired writing doesn't work when it is confined in a timid, hidebound, institutional straitjacket. Would subscribers leave in droves if this were done? I doubt it, since there are no longer droves of subscribers to either to leave.
Note: To FL, Ms. Trammell has never to my knowledge responded with even the merest of burbles to any of the serious questions raised by the Planet Waves expose (in her own words no less) over a year and a half ago. It is obviously fanciful to think that the MC pontificate would condescend to respond to a noisome midge such as I. As with politicians, only worshipful admirers are privileged to be graced by access to their holinesses' ear and tongue. To quote John Collins Bossidy, with a few slight changes:
And this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where Ms. Trammell talks only to Talbot,
And Talbot talks only to God.
Is not the holy Word of God among the chief of these still waters? We lose a significant portion of our receptive innocence when we permit the distraction of sights and sounds to disrupt our sacred communion with the chaste beauty of truths articulated on the printed page. Mrs. Eddy's sole foray into the visual with printed was "Christ and Christmas", and she had to withdraw it for a time in part because the pictures were being used as ikons of a sort by some.
Yes, many intimidating versts of emptiness across the steppes of blank pages confront the editors of the periodicals weekly and monthly and surely tempt them to glom on to any scrap of flotsam or jetsam which could fill them. Miscellaneous pictures, travel photos, snapshots, extraneous visual stage business, and the soporific verbal drone of lengthy, very lengthy, interviews serve, faute de mieux apparently, as welcome fodder in the neverending search for material. But how does a photo of the Li River (p. 63 in the March Journal), beautiful as it is, support any spiritual message in the accompanying article? Or the picture of the Liverpool waterfront (pp. 20-21)? Is the Journal a serious publication or a travel magazine, and are not picture books one of the childish things most of us put behind as we enter adulthood?
What is so distasteful about the straightforward, unadorned, pacific, all-print dignity of the old Sentinels and Journals? Christian Science isn't a religious Disneyland or a stop on a grand tour. The periodicals should be as calming, uplifting, sober, inspiring, and challenging as their subject. Of course a serious search for and openness to new and invigorating writers would need to be undertaken, a real challenge since there is a paucity of such writers even now. Sincere and inspired writing doesn't work when it is confined in a timid, hidebound, institutional straitjacket. Would subscribers leave in droves if this were done? I doubt it, since there are no longer droves of subscribers to either to leave.
Note: To FL, Ms. Trammell has never to my knowledge responded with even the merest of burbles to any of the serious questions raised by the Planet Waves expose (in her own words no less) over a year and a half ago. It is obviously fanciful to think that the MC pontificate would condescend to respond to a noisome midge such as I. As with politicians, only worshipful admirers are privileged to be graced by access to their holinesses' ear and tongue. To quote John Collins Bossidy, with a few slight changes:
And this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where Ms. Trammell talks only to Talbot,
And Talbot talks only to God.
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