Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Dead eyes


Do you know what is one thing that is scary to me? A dead person’s eyes...especially when they are open...and moving around and blinking and seem like they should be alive...but they aren’t. That gives me a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach and, sometimes, I have to turn away. The worst is when the person doesn’t know that they are dead. They don’t know any better and so they walk around pretending like they are alive. Maybe, it’s all a grand scheme to make sure people don’t bury them.
Perhaps "dead" isn’t quite the right word. Maybe it is more like "undead." I’m sure that calls to mind zombies and such, but these are real. I see them walking around every day.
Maybe, if they knew they were dead they would go find their rest and find the life that is waiting for them there. But they don’t and no one has the courage to tell them that they aren’t alive.
“But I go to church...I have a life...I have my friends...I tweet nine times a day. A dead person can’t do that.”
But can’t they?
Can’t even a robot with no life in it at all tweet nine times a day and sit in a building and keep a log of what is happening around it? It still has no life in it. A robot can’t have passions, joys, pain, love. A robot can’t have moral integrity. It can have a program that tells it to accept and reject certain things based on a list of criteria, but then it can just be programmed to do whatever whoever is skilled enough to program it wants it to. It has no choice.
Some of these undead people seem to do just that. If something is viral on social media, it must be worth attention. If five people they know like something, it must be good. If it lines up with the thoughts they were taught in school, then surely it is right. Their foundation is only as solid as those external parameters that they have been taught. Those are not lasting - and even if it were, if that undead person’s external circumstances change, that person’s identity changes, their principles change.
Sometimes, despite my squeamishness at dead eyes, I want to get in one of their faces and yell, just to see if it elicits any response other than an eye roll and filing me away in their brain as an odd creature. Perhaps I am one, but at least I am alive.

Sunday, December 11, 2016

A Different Music

It's been an odd season for music.  Odd related thoughts.

"He who sings, prays twice."  I think Augustine remarked.

Is it possible that music is our highest mode of expression?   Even now we have fragments of this in our hymns, gregorian chant, musicals, concerts in which the experience is shared.

All of these have more meaning than just the written or spoken words that they carry.

***

This was brought to mind when I came across first "Lachto Drom" or "Happy Journey".  It is a telling of the experience of the Romani.  Please, even if you don't understand the words, listen, watch with compassion.  Learn about this people from their voices.

***
Second and related is also Rom related:  the Barcelona Gypsy Klezmer Orchestra.  This is an amazing group that I had never heard before.  It seems a sad that they are no longer playing with their extraordinary original clarinetist,  Robindro Nikolic.  May they none the less continue the fine musical adventure. 

Let me know what you think.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Two young ladies go to Washington

From July

When we saw the Washington Monument from the Station, Emily had a flash of excitement and then both of us recalled a certain Mr. Smith who took off to see the monument.  We, however, very exhausted and recognizing a schedule, took our bags and hastened to College Park, to leave our bags there before proceeding.  It was a nice place to stay but we were too late to get back to the capitol for our scheduled tour, so after getting some food at the Bagel Place (very good espresso and excellent bagel sandwiches) we went to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception.  I was a little worried that it would be over tourist-y, but it was not.  It was very beautiful and had a contemplative sort of atmosphere, one that encouraged prayer.  We entered one little alcove that, inlaid in the entrance, had the lines of a slave ship.  On the right hand wall was a sculpted plaque that portrayed progressively people being captured, sold into slavery, whipped in the fields, liberated, and standing in a mixed group facing the cross together on the far wall.  It was very striking.  We were about to leave when a woman who was sitting in a corner asked strongly, "Do you understand?"  I was reminded of the house of Mr. Interpreter.
In the sanctuary was a shrine set up by descendants of Eastern Europeans who had been forced from their homes during the thirteenth century by the Turks.  I was reminded of today's problems of terror and displacement, so while we were there I prayed for those displaced by ISIS and those who have received the refugees.
On the second day we did actually go down to the monuments.  We did not plan to see, and I was unaware of, the United States Navy Memorial.  But when we came out of Archive station, there it was.  It was pretty neat to see how the sculptures in the plaques reflected all the different levels of participation and assistance and history of the Navy.  We took some time (and Emily took pictures) before moving on.  We went to the Museum of Natural History and accidentally spent six hours there.  It was a lot of fun.  I especially enjoyed the skeletons and the stones.
Afterwords, we grabbed a bite to eat and headed out to the Washington Monument.  It is majestic.  As we walked away we could see a stage and speakers and lights being set up.  It turns out, there was a big event planned to show and encourage Christian unity and growth with lots of performers and speakers.
Lincoln Memorial, the World War II Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, Korean War Memorial, a John Paul Jones Memorial, a little tribute to the volunteers from D.C. for "The World War"--we saw a lot.
Saturday evening we went to St. Matthew's.  Coming outside from that peaceful service, we walked through panhandlers.  I asked one of them about sharing with each other.  That idea was met with scorn.
We spent a long time at Union Station waiting for our bus home at 12 or 1 in the morning--I forget which--but that was a beautiful place.  There were statues up high on a ledge in the walls surrounding the big room in the old front.  Emily took some pictures.  When we went to the more specifically designated waiting area for our bus, it was less grand, but still decently comfortable.  Then at last the long ride home.
I'm very glad we went, and very glad we made it safely home.
"Good bye to the street lights, hello to the sweet pines..."

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Homesick

I could call it boredom. After all, I'm just sitting here, lethargically stirring my oatmeal that isn't really appetizing.
I could call it apathy. After all, there are so many things I should do, but I just don't have the motivation.
I could call it lack of stimulation. After all, if my expectations of life here should be based on this week, I should always have something going on, something to entertain me.
I could call it being very tired. After all, this week has been so busy and I haven't gotten enough sleep.
I could call it waking up too early on a Saturday morning. After all, who wakes up before eleven o'clock on a Saturday around here - except, of course, for those baseball players.
I could call it slight illness. After all, I had a headache last night and a slight sore throat this morning.
Or...I could call it homesickness, because that's what it is.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

A passion for truth

     When I entered the room set aside for the seminar, there were not many people.  As more people began to come in, I enjoyed listening and observing.  There was a student who was not here because she had to, but was grateful that Franciscan hosted these conferences and that she had the opportunity to learn from the speakers.  There was a man in olive pants, tweed jacket, and slightly muddy shoes whom I judged to be a speaker.  Especially when the student who was messing with the sound equipment came up to him with a little clip microphone.  There was a student with maybe a German accent (I discovered that I was correct in that assumption later) behind me, talking about classes and theology and marketing.  I caught a glimpse of her dark, long coat and skirt, and bright blue scarf in my peripheral vision.
Most of the people on the first day seemed to be older than myself.  I overheard talk of coming from Pittsburgh and New York, but it did seem as though most people probably had some connection to Franciscan University.
     To start the conference, a priest was invited up to pray.  His eyes were mostly directed up, but were very lively and warm.  It almost seemed as though he was uncomfortable standing in front of the group.  But he prayed.  It was a very earnest prayer, not long; but just thinking back to his prayer--I do not remember any precise words--still as he prayed for the Holy Spirit to work amongst us and bless our efforts to bear to witness to the truth I felt like crying.

Then James Kalb was introduced and he did an excellent job of introducing all that was to follow.  It was a thick sort of discourse.  I am very glad I took notes, but I certainly plan to go back and do some reading, which is the idea of this sort of thing--whet people's appetites for what is true and good and beautiful, and they should then continue to pursue the true and good and beautiful.  I am afraid I do not do that enough as a teacher.  Anyway, back to the topic.
     One of the points that stood out in the first discourse was the idea of restoring a healthy understanding of Natural Law.  This was brought up as a way to confront the current technocratic approach to life and law.
What is technocracy? "the government or control of society or industry by an elite of technical experts." This definition exactly fits what Dr. Kalb was talking about.  Part of his complaint against the current liberal technocratic approach is that there is a tendency to disregard the voices of those not considered experts and expertise is increasingly defined by an increasingly atheistic humanist world-view.  What is reality is described as atoms, the void and sensation.  Also, there is a denial that they are exercising power.  They merely recognize the power and rights of every person, and act as arbitrators--the neutral protectors of everybody else.
So how do we respond?  Compromise?  Emphasize our traditions in terms of symbolism?  Emphasize functionality?  These are not adequate.  There is no compromise, because they see themselves as outside the debates about right and wrong--the "technical experts" inform us of what we need to do and if we don't understand, we must be ignorant.  Remaining loyal to tradition and defending it with symbolism and rhetoric only plays to their claim that traditionalists are illogical and narrow-minded bigots.  Functionality--well, how can we even begin to talk about function unless we agree that things are ordered to purposes?  This is where an understanding of natural law could really help.
We also need to have a renewed understanding of ultimate goods, the importance of sacrifice in society--our need for God.  We cannot merely tell the world that something is wrong; we must show them something better.  "Nothing is going to get better unless we get better."

I'm not sure if it was in answer to a question, but at the end of my notes on the first presentation was this, "Not anti-institutional
                      God, thinking, church, community
                                                                   Goal?  Christendom?"

One of the criticisms leveled against the technocratic world view is that it is reductionist, broadly-- figure out what the properties of a thing are in order to do what you want to do with it.  This stands against a more traditional approach of seeing a whole system of life that cannot necessarily be completely understood.

The next lecture was not delivered by the author as the author was ill.  While the first had been somewhat dense in information, technical, thoughtful, and engaging; the next was engaging in a very different way.

It had more of an element of anecdote--describing writing, looking out the window and remembering growing up as a "free-range kid."  He spoke of the sense of wonder in childhood that some grow out of, and some grow out of early on in their childhoods.  He spoke of the importance of wonder in accepting God and in seeing the world for what it is rather than what we can get.  He illustrated the idea of wonder and its opposite, excessive ambition, by the way of Shakespeare's Tempest.  Now, The Tempest is a familiar play to me, and one of my favorites by Shakespeare, but to hear it described in terms of wonder--think of all the magic and music of Prospero's island--made me want to revisit the play.  I would absolutely love to see an excellent presentation of it.

Another lecture that still stands out after a year was by Sheila Liaugminas, a journalist.  She spoke about the power of words and the importance of telling stories that tell truth.  In that, she also emphasized reading and writing from a heart centered on the ultimate Truth.

For a few little thoughts:
Nihilism--This word keeps cropping up as a word to describe the current situation of culture in the West generally and in the United States in particular.

Humpty Dumpty language and the LBGT movement--turning words inside out to insist that what is bad is good, what is wrong is right.

Objective good--a restoration of this idea being near impossible without the restoration of a right understanding of natural law, which also came up in various people's talks.

Ultimately, it comes back to a need to recognize who God is and what has He called us to be.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Work, Coffee, and Chess

So... This has been a good week. Challenging and enjoyable and good. Monday was relaxed and most of the family spent the latter part of the day at Uncle Bruce and Aunt Margie's swimming and eating yummy food. Tuesday at work was slow and frustrating. It was one of those days that doesn't feel like it's going anywhere. Halfway through the morning when I felt like I had run completely against a wall, I paused, sat blankly for a few minutes, wrote a haiku, and carried on.

And so much to do
But my mind just keeps wand'ring.
Sit up; push forward.

Things did get better and I did accomplish more than I thought I would considering my dullness. The next day at work was even better.

Yesterday, after a day at home, tidying up and such, Esther, Elizabeth and I went to Tullahoma. Elizabeth had a CAP meeting at 6 p.m. Esther needed to find a grade insignia, and I was transportation. The plan was to look in the shed for the grade insignia, drop Elizabeth at the meeting place by 5:55 p.m. and then for Esther and I to go to the Celtic Cup, a delightful coffee shop. The grade insignia was not in the shed. Since Esther and I were hungry and there was plenty of time before Elizabeth's meeting, we through the drive-through at Chick-fil-a.
We drove immediately from there to the meeting place, a Mexican restaurant. We sat in the parking lot, Esther and I eating our chicken nuggets and Elizabeth waiting til it was closer to time for the meeting. (We were there twenty minutes early.) When another cadet showed up, it gave him and his father a chuckle to see us eating fast-food chicken nuggets in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant.
Once Elizabeth was headed in to the meeting, Esther and I went on to the Celtic Cup (taking the ...scenic route). We entered, ordered our Americano and yerba mate latte, and went upstairs. The table we sat at had a chess set in the center. I had wanted to play a card game, but no cards were in the little collections of games they had. In general, chess is not a game that I will play. I do not take the time, patience, or focus necessary to play it. Esther did not sound too excited about playing. However, as we were sitting chatting, she madee the first move. It seemed that it would be impolite to not return, so I moved and the game was begun.
The Americano, though. The moment it was brought to the table, the color and smell of it reminded me of the Kenyan coffee that Jonathan made when he was visiting us over Christmas. Sure enough, it had a similar bright, sharp flavor, though not as strong as the stuff Jonathan fixed. It was very pleasant!

The game continued. At first, I sincerely was convinced that Esther was going to win. She was being much more bold and adventurous. However, the tide turned and..


Check-mate.

After the chess match, we continued to sit and talk, until one of the waitresses came upstairs to turn out the lights. She told us that they were closing. They had forgotten until just before that we were still upstairs. "We wouldn't want you to get locked in here and walk downstairs and set off the alarms." We laughed a bit and left. For having stayed for half an hour after closing, they were very pleasant. Fairly soon after, Esther got a text from Elizabeth that she was done. We picked her up and after another delay (which involved Sonic, lots of chocolate, and grade insignias), we headed home.

And there you have it.