Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Barbarism, Decadence, Intimacy and Abbott Suger
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Song of Songs 8:6-7
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Rendering Love and Charity
Both these readings for today contain pieces from 1 Corinthians 13, chapter 13 of St Paul's first Epistle to the Christian community of Corinth. These passages are often quoted when there's a need to address the subject of love scripturally, but this chapter also talks from a place of enactment. This is how we do it.
The original Greek word for 'love' used in this Chapter was αγαπη - agape, sacrifical love. By the time of the recording of the Vulgate, this had been identified with caritas - which originally meant something like the costliness of affection, or a high esteem (recorded sometimes as 'dilectio'). In our times these words have been rendered as charity, which has an emphasis more on what you give away, rather than the grace with which it is given.
Through time we reach the King James version of the Epistles, where charity, from the well-known triumvirate of 'faith, hope and charity' becomes love. Not desirous or sexual amor, but moreso the undeniable recognition of kindred humanity. A benevolence that stems from the simple fact that we both stand (sit, lie, kneel, crawl) in a suit of skin, blessed with senses that beg our brain to try to figure stuff out. Including (and most importantly) what might be goin' on inside, with each other.
So, holding that chunky bundle of information in mind, I'd like to invite you to join me for a slow reading of 1 Corinthians 13, where I've substituted the slightly unfamiliar word 'caritas' into the Douay-Rheims version of the chapter, and to let the sense of love that flows from the words pour over, into and upon you as you read this.
1 Corinthians 13
1If I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not caritas, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.2And if I should have prophecy and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not caritas, I am nothing.
3And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not caritas, it profiteth me nothing.
4Caritas is patient, is kind: Caritas envieth not, dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up;
5Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil;
6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth;
7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8Caritas never falleth away: whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed.
9For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.
11When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the things of a child.
12We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know I part; but then I shall know even as I am known.
13And now there remain faith, hope, and caritas, these three: but the greatest of these is caritas.
Prophecies in part, knowledge in part, desire to overcome the gap, in full, willingness to stay, and listen, and learn, and understand, that's agape.
With a sniff of postmodernity in the reckless pursuit of the paradox:
that
love can never be enough,
communication can never be perfect,
and I cannot be you.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Birds that wing their way through the air
Fish that in chill waters dive
Beasts that tread the earth
and leave their footprints there -
Man, by reason made aware,
Solely judges and discerns;
Man approaches angels
by the things he learns.
Francesco Stelluti
in Galileo Galileo's Assayer, 1623
The Ballad of the Three Keening Marys
Ballad of the Three Keening Marys
An é sin an maicín a d'iompair mé trí ráithe?
(Ochón agus ochón ó!)
Nó 'n é sin an maicín a rugadh ins an stábla?
(Ochón agus ochón ó!)
Nó an é sin an maicín a hoileadh in ucht Mháire?
A mhaicín mhuirneach, tá do rós-bhéilín gearrtha.
Chrochadar suas í ar ghuaillí arda
'Gus chuireadar anuas í faoi leacrachaí na sráide
Buailigí mé féin ach ná bainidh le mo mháithrín
Maróidh muid thú féin agus buailfidh muid do mháithrín.
Cuireadh culaith róin air le spídiúlacht a namhaid
'Gus cuireadh an tsleá thrína bhrollach álainn.
Cuireadh go Calvary é ag méadú ar a pháise
Bhí sé ag iompar na croise 'gus Síomón lena shála
Éist, a Mháthair 'gus ná bí cráite
Tá mná mo chaointe le breith fós, a mháithrín.
Here's the English version... seo leagan Béarla de:
Is that the dear son I carried for three seasons?
Or is that the dear son who was born in the stable?
Or is that the dear son who was reared in Mary's bosom?
My little darling son, your rosy mouth is bleeding.
They lifted her up on high shoulders
And they cast her down on the stones of the street.
Beat me, but do not touch my mother.
"You we will kill, and we will beat your mother."
A hair shirt was put on him through malice of his enemies
And the spear was thrust through his lovely bosom.
He was sent to Calvary, increasing his suffering
He was carrying the cross, while Simon followed after.
"Listen, O Mother, and do not be tormented,
The women who will keen me are yet unborn, dear mother."
Authentic and Inauthentic
Odes of Solomon: Ode 34
Authentic and Inauthentic
There is no rough way,
where there is a simple heart,
nor a wound
in upright thoughts,
nor a storm gust
in the depth of clear thought.
Where the beautiful one is surrounded
on all sides,
there is nothing in him that is
divided.
The archetype of what is below
is that which is above.
For everything is above,
and below is nothing,
but it seems to be, to those in
whom there is no gnosis.
Grace was revealed for your
redemption;
believe and live and be redeemed.
Hallelujah.
Source: Lattke, M. (2009). Odes of Solomon: a commentary. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.
Friday, October 2, 2009
The Pearly Kings and Queens

This post is indebted to Simone Weil for her notion of 'rootedness'.