I shall present here a rather involved analogy, or vision, if I may, which must be taken to resemble both the soul's transmigration between the material and spiritual worlds, as perceived most literally in the processes of birth and death, as well as the soul's tendency, whether incarnated or disembodied, of tending either towards the very heights of the heavens or the depths of the earth; that is, to the most refined contemplation or the humblest act. Freedom and fate are alluded to, but the basic thrust of the image shows less concern for these, and more for the larger process of which they partake.
This analogy, -- which is, as I say, quite involved, -- need not be understood all at once, nor in its entirety. Indeed, our insistance upon an immediate and thorough intellectual analysis would only inhibit what must ultimately be an intuitive appreciation of the mysteries and paradoxes suggested by the figure. While I believe the example is eloquent, nonetheless, I suggest that true eloquence is only simple on its surface, and rarely, if ever, comprehended in its depths; even by those who speak it. Ultimately, the vision must give way (as, indeed, it will in the following meditation) to considerations transcending itself, and which it serves only to inspire.
The Needle and the Thread; the present and the past;
becoming and being; what is occurring and what is already...
Consider how the tapestry of destiny is woven. The thread hangs loose as the needle freely arcs, both high and low; ascending towards the more delicate and abstract realms of spirit, or descending into the more difficult, slow-moving and concrete concerns of the incarnate world; -- in order to effect a forward progress in the unification of both to a single purpose.
The tapestry itself, the pattern of fate, that which is woven, is static, settled, secured, and past. In this it appears to possess a more deliberate being. Only here is the thread pulled tight, and here we seem to observe a cosmic mean, where the higher and lower worlds meet, and resolve themselves, for better or worse, into an ultimate reality. Yet, the actual business of life takes place at the end of the needle. It is never resolved, but alternates, like a wave, between two worlds, albeit on a singular trajectory.
When the needle goes below the woven fabric of being, we are incarnate in the material world. At its lowest point, we are firmly anchored therein, retaining no airy notions whatsoever, but entirely practical in our pursuits. Nevertheless, it is precisely here that we are turned around, as it were, by an unsustainable cynicism, and reoriented in the direction of the higher worlds. So do we begin again our enlightening ascent, remembering what is lofty, recovering the visionary outlook, and moving gradually out of matter, towards the realization of an abstract ideal.
Then, once more having pierced the center, we ascend beyond the physical, into the realms of utter noblesse. The body is not regarded in the mind; the mind is not retained in the body. There is the breathlessness of a freedom which approaches and, indeed, transcends the miracle of flight, as the soul is merged in the bluest regions of divine union. Again, though, idealism must reach its zenith, as cynicism its nadir, and the soul return from whence it was.
What one observes in the subtlest regions of God's love is that love, even as it reaches up to God in heaven, also reaches down from there to man; humbling itself even to the point of incarnating with man, as man. Love is no less a descending than ascending principle, and it is, ultimately, that Holy Spirit which motivates the alternating movement of the soul. The Father in Heaven, beyond all conception, is no more nor less God than the Son on Earth, who can be seen, and the Spirit which relates the One to the Other, and the Other to the One, is no less God than each of these.
Now, let it be understood that, while we speak of higher and lower, "we speak as men", according to the saying of Saint Paul; which is to say that we speak only in part; in a limited sense, to which divine intuition must be applied, if ever we are to grasp the whole of the intended meaning. So that, despite the connotations proper to "higher" and "lower", as well as to "heaven" and "earth", and even to "God" and "man", we must understand that no point in this process is more advanced than another, unless it be that point upon which we presently discover ourselves.
To be in the present moment is, truly, to be in the presence of God, and there is no genuine experience of God which is not also a genuine experience of man; for the one is never entirely distinct from the other, but, rather, to see each of these clearly is to see them in relation to one another; it is to see God-in-Man and Man-in-God. One cannot perceive God except in the Avatar,-- that is, in the Christ (according to the language of the Christians, which we preserve), -- nor can we percieve Man but in the same; for to see into the heart of man is to percieve the Christ, who is in him; and who takes upon himself the cloak of sins which is the very flesh and personality of each individual man.
Who sees not Christ in Man, sees not Man, who is the incarnation of the divine, however sullied and obscured. And who sees not Christ in God, sees not God, who is the pure light; desirous rather to exhaust than to preserve itself above the muddy vicissitudes which might be warmed and penetrated thereby. Truly, the proud justice of the Father is not compromised, but, rather, it is perfected, in the humble mercy of His Son, the Savior of the world.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
Timon of Athens
"...was a citizen of Athens whose reputation for misanthropy grew to legendary status."
Timon lavished his fortune on false friends, who deserted him the instant he had became poor on account of his charity. He then became an ascetic, only to find "buried treasure", and to see his "friends" reemerging with outstretched hands. He gave them now only what would rebound to the ruin (or apparent ruin?) of the people, which he took a strange pleasure in effecting.
"Here lie I, Timon, who alive, all living men did hate,
Pass by, and curse thy fill, but pass and stay not here thy gait."
Pass by, and curse thy fill, but pass and stay not here thy gait."
~ Shakespeare's 'Timon of Athens'
"Herman Melville considered Timon to be among the most profound of Shakespeare's plays, and in his 1850 review Hawthorne and His Mosses[21] writes that Shakespeare is not 'a mere man of Richard-the-Third humps, and Macbeth daggers,' but rather 'it is those deep far-away things in him; those occasional flashings-forth of the intuitive Truth in him; those short, quick probings at the very axis of reality:–these are the things that make Shakespeare, Shakespeare. Through the mouths of the dark characters of Hamlet, Timon, Lear, and Iago, he craftily says, or sometimes insinuates the things, which we feel to be so terrifically true, that it were all but madness for any good man, in his own proper character, to utter, or even hint of them.' In his 1590 Greene's Mourning Garment, Robert Greene used the term "Timonist" to refer to a lonely misanthrope. In his 1852 novel Pierre, Melville used the term "Timonism" about an artist's contemptuous rejection of both his audience and mankind in general."
The philosopher Diogenes of Sinope is a classic Tomonist. He is reported to have remarked, "What good is a philosopher who offends no one?... Discourse on virtue and they pass by in droves; whistle and dance the shimmy, and you've got yourself an audience."
To Sell Is To Steal
"God reveals himself in the middle of conflict and contradiction --
and we want to find him outside all contradiction." ~ Thomas Merton
I don't really believe in the concept of "earned income". At least, not while anyone is starving in the world, without so much as access to clean water.
What are these so-called benefits and services we provide, and then purchase, with our labor, anyway? More poisons for the body and soul? More wasted resources, which divert us for a while, then require more care before they can infest the earth, or be recycled into other diversions? So we can pamper ourselves while others cannot even sustain themselves? So we can supplement our diets while others starve? So we can cripple our goodwill; stupefy our consciences and the consciences of others; spoil everyone into mutual complacency? All the while, priding ourselves on the sweat of our brows?
I feel that anything more than what is necessary is stolen. So what if we "work for it"; even a pick-pocket has to pick pockets! The most industrious thief is only the one who picks the most pockets. His laziness would be almost a virtue. We might even call it a kind of charity, when a man accumulates less than he could. At least the petty thief and the welfare addict, who live on a relative pittance, are doing nothing to create new markets, and little to sustain old ones; vortexes of excess and indulgence, to draw money and resources away from the places where they are truly needed. These brave new products and trusted old ones only multiply and strengthen our wants. We breed more mouths to feed, and more hearts to fill, while, already, orphans are starving for food and affection.
The world is so full of superfluous goods and services now, -- who among us is not a swindler by trade? Anyone who advertises is just another confidence man. Necessity requires no persuasion. What do we honestly need which God (or Nature, if you prefer) does not sufficiently provide and offer freely; that is, until some scoundrel intercepts it, fences it in, and charges admission? If everything belongs to God, then nothing is man's. Everything that exists is charity, and our place is to receive what we require, and then to pass on what is left. To have is to hoard. To sell is to steal. What could be more plain?
Even the most seemingly blameless efforts in our society, you will find, exist only to combat corresponding imbalances in the society, so that, if the system as a whole were to be dissolved, such efforts would be seen to be without purpose or sense; their utility is not absolute, but relative, consisting entirely within the context of a radically warped cultural paradigm. We employ unnatural remedies to treat unnatural disturbances, while the underlying problem -- that is, our alienation from the natural world -- is never addressed.
But now we are all caught up in this madness together. The whole world is upside down, and what good would it do to shame anyone, but to set an upside down world on his poor shoulders? In truth, we are shoulder to shoulder here; there is a world of shame to go around, and who can, or should, bare more than the smallest share? Only God can make a saint, and lift him out, individually, from under this burden; grant him wings so as to draw it up from above. The rest of us must find a solution below. I only know that, first, we must overthrow the mutual deception which imprisons us, as defenders of our own captivity; of a system which robs us of our dignity as children of God, and attempts to sell it back to us,-- even when calling it "grace".
and we want to find him outside all contradiction." ~ Thomas Merton
I don't really believe in the concept of "earned income". At least, not while anyone is starving in the world, without so much as access to clean water.
What are these so-called benefits and services we provide, and then purchase, with our labor, anyway? More poisons for the body and soul? More wasted resources, which divert us for a while, then require more care before they can infest the earth, or be recycled into other diversions? So we can pamper ourselves while others cannot even sustain themselves? So we can supplement our diets while others starve? So we can cripple our goodwill; stupefy our consciences and the consciences of others; spoil everyone into mutual complacency? All the while, priding ourselves on the sweat of our brows?
I feel that anything more than what is necessary is stolen. So what if we "work for it"; even a pick-pocket has to pick pockets! The most industrious thief is only the one who picks the most pockets. His laziness would be almost a virtue. We might even call it a kind of charity, when a man accumulates less than he could. At least the petty thief and the welfare addict, who live on a relative pittance, are doing nothing to create new markets, and little to sustain old ones; vortexes of excess and indulgence, to draw money and resources away from the places where they are truly needed. These brave new products and trusted old ones only multiply and strengthen our wants. We breed more mouths to feed, and more hearts to fill, while, already, orphans are starving for food and affection.
The world is so full of superfluous goods and services now, -- who among us is not a swindler by trade? Anyone who advertises is just another confidence man. Necessity requires no persuasion. What do we honestly need which God (or Nature, if you prefer) does not sufficiently provide and offer freely; that is, until some scoundrel intercepts it, fences it in, and charges admission? If everything belongs to God, then nothing is man's. Everything that exists is charity, and our place is to receive what we require, and then to pass on what is left. To have is to hoard. To sell is to steal. What could be more plain?
Even the most seemingly blameless efforts in our society, you will find, exist only to combat corresponding imbalances in the society, so that, if the system as a whole were to be dissolved, such efforts would be seen to be without purpose or sense; their utility is not absolute, but relative, consisting entirely within the context of a radically warped cultural paradigm. We employ unnatural remedies to treat unnatural disturbances, while the underlying problem -- that is, our alienation from the natural world -- is never addressed.
But now we are all caught up in this madness together. The whole world is upside down, and what good would it do to shame anyone, but to set an upside down world on his poor shoulders? In truth, we are shoulder to shoulder here; there is a world of shame to go around, and who can, or should, bare more than the smallest share? Only God can make a saint, and lift him out, individually, from under this burden; grant him wings so as to draw it up from above. The rest of us must find a solution below. I only know that, first, we must overthrow the mutual deception which imprisons us, as defenders of our own captivity; of a system which robs us of our dignity as children of God, and attempts to sell it back to us,-- even when calling it "grace".
Monday, June 24, 2013
More Seed
There is much to be undone, and little to do.
It takes a genius, to refract, from the single-pointed, white light of Love, a hundred subtler shades of truth; but it takes a saint to unite them once again.
The simplicity of God is indeed profound, while His mysteriousness is merely a function of confusion in the minds of men, who complicate all things beyond the measure of necessity. It is only the prism which requires the refraction of light into a many-colored spectrum, as the mortal intellect demands the spreading-out of God's single-pointed command. Nonetheless, every carefully nuanced doctrine in the entire canon of Christendom may be "reduced" to the implicity of Love. What the heart of a child grasps in a word, the mind of an adult clutches at in ten-thousand volumes, and cannot lay hold of.
I myself am judged, convicted, and condemned by my words. They honor me, even as I disgrace them; indeed, the one in proportion to the other.
Our words may well save others, but will not save ourselves, unless it is by the measure of their sincerity; and there is no greater assurance of the sincerity of words than the corresponding performance of actions.
Speak for silence, then speak no more.
I speak in favor of silence. Is there anything more ironic?
And, yet, is there anything more worthy of being said?
There is something, at once, both modest and impertinent in the brevity of aphorisms; one is careful not to say too much, and careless not to say enough.
By nature, do not force yourself, -- unless it is your nature to force yourself.
We go amid distractions, and must be torn free, and forced in the direction we would naturally tend; if not for distractions.
It takes a genius, to refract, from the single-pointed, white light of Love, a hundred subtler shades of truth; but it takes a saint to unite them once again.
The simplicity of God is indeed profound, while His mysteriousness is merely a function of confusion in the minds of men, who complicate all things beyond the measure of necessity. It is only the prism which requires the refraction of light into a many-colored spectrum, as the mortal intellect demands the spreading-out of God's single-pointed command. Nonetheless, every carefully nuanced doctrine in the entire canon of Christendom may be "reduced" to the implicity of Love. What the heart of a child grasps in a word, the mind of an adult clutches at in ten-thousand volumes, and cannot lay hold of.
I myself am judged, convicted, and condemned by my words. They honor me, even as I disgrace them; indeed, the one in proportion to the other.
Our words may well save others, but will not save ourselves, unless it is by the measure of their sincerity; and there is no greater assurance of the sincerity of words than the corresponding performance of actions.
Speak for silence, then speak no more.
I speak in favor of silence. Is there anything more ironic?
And, yet, is there anything more worthy of being said?
There is something, at once, both modest and impertinent in the brevity of aphorisms; one is careful not to say too much, and careless not to say enough.
By nature, do not force yourself, -- unless it is your nature to force yourself.
We go amid distractions, and must be torn free, and forced in the direction we would naturally tend; if not for distractions.
Scattered Seed
The freedom we have from God is such that no created thing, -- no idea, no image, no object, nor action, -- has power of itself to turn the soul, either for or against the will of God. There is nothing so wretched that it may not be converted to good use, nor even to the highest purpose, when received in a spirit of righteous submission; just as there is nothing so pure that it may not be spoiled, in a wicked and rebellious mind, intent on spoiling it.
I can conceive of no sharp rebuke which might not be made more efficacious by gentle, persuasive exhortation. A single word may stop the sinner in his tracks, but a sermon should help to redirect his steps.
God has given all good things for the correction and assuagement of the bad. How is it, then, that we still seek disputes, to settle disputation? Let us, rather, pray for a word of peace, to calm the already turbid waters.
Too many are inspired to speech; too few are inspired to silence.
There are lesser things, that we might have the honor, the pleasure, and the glory of discriminating the greater, and choosing thereof. We therefor insult and devalue the whole of creation, when we do not prefer, at all times, to contemplate only the holiest attributes of our Creator.
Afflictions are a sign of the confidence of God, who believes we can overcome them; and of the low regard of the devil, who believes we can be overcome by them.
One man's prison is another man's pilgrimage; a soul attentive to God, having been cut-off from the outside world, is thereby prepared for, and consigned to, the journey within.
There are tempters within, as without, but the Lord is our ever-present refuge.
The deeper our silence, the higher our speech.
All the wealth of creation is less than a pittance. Every worldly treasure is yet another lure into debt and, ultimately, debtor's prison. Truly, the heaviest chains are forged of gold. But the name of God is a palace, and His words are a kingdom raised over the world.
Every impulse, according to its nature, is either a move toward damnation or to salvation. The road to heaven is not long, but seems so; for we trace and retrace our steps, moment by moment.
The pleasures of the flesh pull us downward, while the pleasures of the soul lift us up.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Alms
"Words may be deeds." ~ Aesop
Words are deeds: Is it not the hand which writes?
And is not the tongue itself a formidable muscle;
difficult to tame and subdue?
Words may be alms, if they are kind. Though we may not all be able to give abundant charity in material form, we nearly all have the power to give innumerable kind words, warm gestures, and gentle looks. It is true, the value of these subtle things is frequently dismissed for falling short, or seeming to fall short, of more palpable actions. Yet the truly cynical mind will not hesitate to scoff at even the most heroic, strenuous, and sustained acts of virtue; while the truly visionary heart will find praiseworthy even the merest notions of good.
Those who would encourage charitable deeds by disparaging charitable words only blow out the very flame they would fan into a fire. Fine words, in fact, are inexhaustible alms, which may be used to purchase the delicate bread of virtuous sentiments; sentiments which, though consumed to the nourishment of one mind, yet, multiply, like the loaves of Christ, to feed the multitudes.
Words are deeds: Is it not the hand which writes?
And is not the tongue itself a formidable muscle;
difficult to tame and subdue?
Words may be alms, if they are kind. Though we may not all be able to give abundant charity in material form, we nearly all have the power to give innumerable kind words, warm gestures, and gentle looks. It is true, the value of these subtle things is frequently dismissed for falling short, or seeming to fall short, of more palpable actions. Yet the truly cynical mind will not hesitate to scoff at even the most heroic, strenuous, and sustained acts of virtue; while the truly visionary heart will find praiseworthy even the merest notions of good.
Those who would encourage charitable deeds by disparaging charitable words only blow out the very flame they would fan into a fire. Fine words, in fact, are inexhaustible alms, which may be used to purchase the delicate bread of virtuous sentiments; sentiments which, though consumed to the nourishment of one mind, yet, multiply, like the loaves of Christ, to feed the multitudes.
Full Circle
Leave the Many,
Find the One. . .
Having Found the One,
Embrace the Many as the One.
~ Plotinus
We think it somehow humble, to desire the merest particle, the dimmest inkling, of God's majesty. But there are no particles in God. There is nothing mere. Nothing dim. No inklings whatsoever. God is infinity, through and through. Light without end.
It is only through paradox, by virtue of the mystery expressed in the man-god, Jesus Christ, that the infinite may be rendered, in some small part, and in some shadowy sense, graspable by finite minds. And while it is only fitting, and indeed an incomparable honor, that we should estimate the inestimable Father in the form of the incarnate Son, we are enjoined by that very emissary not to be content with the part, but to seek unflaggingly for the whole.
Too often, complacency is marked humility. But the part, who is Christ, cannot be properly understood and fully appreciated without carrying us, full-force, into the obliterating experience of the whole. To know him utterly is really to know the Father who sent him. To embrace him, marvelously, is to go beyond him.
And, still, the chain is not broken; the circle is complete. . .
For to be consumed in the infinite fire of the Godhead is also to be reconstituted, and resurrected into a new life with Christ on earth. Truly, there is no greater glory in heaven than to serve sinners in the world below, and, in order to do that, we must come down; not coming down from heaven, as though we were leaving our rightful abode; but carrying with us, in our heart, the homeland of which we are an indivisible part, just as it is an indivisible part of us.
There can be no doubt that the Holy Spirit of love, which ascends to God the Father, is no less a descending principle, which returns, through the miracle of God the Son, to embrace the littlest children of God, and the whole of His Creation. And all this is accomplished by grace.
May He be forever and forever praised, world without end.
Amen
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