Ozymandias Crustulum

I am tired in the bones.  But the creation of essays has been overshadowed by a creation of far greater importance.  Far greater power.  And far greater terror.

The world was restless.  On the streets, the cookie-baking freestyle fighters whispered of a new challenger.

They said making a chocolate-chip cookie of such a size would break men's mouths.  But to cover the top with chocolate dip?   Was there no end to my ambition?

No.

The world was not ready for my ideas.

 

What had I wrought?  The chocolate density... the cookie cakiness was flawless.  But even as one cookie fighter after another fell to my onslaught, still I was not satisfied.  There was more.

There was one cookie-baker who laughed at my creation.  He was a layer maker.  He constructed intricate folds of chocolate crumble and vanilla sweet.  Beside cocoa's yin he added white-icing's yang in a seamless harmony.  His style was strong.  He challenged my chocolate-chip behemoth with his own oreo-blend.

"Your two layers cannot match my three!" he laughed, "is this the really your best?"

My head lowered.  But my mouth twisted into a grin.  "Mada mada!" I was not done, yet.  As he bit into my victory, his eyes bulged with shock.  What did he find within the eye of the storm... his own power turned against him.

I who have contained perfection within perfection, oreo within chocolate-chip, have grasped the reigns of fate.

Look upon my works, ye mighty... and despair.

The crunch begins

I am feeling very anxious about the end of the semester. I am at that precarious point where I have started everything and finished nothing. The funniest part of it is... from where I'm standing now, I should be able to get everything done and all will be well. The schedule looks reasonable. So I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. What hidden landmine will explode and sap up my time and energy? It's maddening.

It's also an invitation to trust I suppose. If I was doing this schoolwork for my own security, that would be worse. But as it is, I am undertaking these studies as formation and as a mission in the praise and service of God. In that sense I feel moved to let go of my human desire to know the future and simply do the best I can today, with the hour that is present.

I'm extremely fortunate that these are the concerns I get to live right now... when so many have more concrete dangers and insecurities. I also feel like, even in the most palapable anxiety, I am still in love with God. And God is never far from my side as I move forward. I pray He will be near to you as well.

Craven Self-interest

Other stuff on my Christmas wish-list:

--a new microphone for my computer, for skyping and such
--one of those little white-board things that is the size of a piece of paper for making to-do lists
--the pc game "On the Rainslick Precipice of Darkness" by penny-arcade
--a patridge in a pear tree

Of course surprises are always welcome. As I have a vow of poverty now, I must insist on very small things. But friendship is more important than rules :>

It's snowing!

Yay! Thye cold rain has finally turned into a fluffy snow. Things are lookin' up...

"Let it be"

I worked all day and stayed up a bit into the night writing an essay on Hildegard's Book of Divine Works.  Now that I've wound down, I find myself muttering mystical musings, which I produce below along with a song I feel is appropriate :>






You can become something you never imagined
You don't have to be tied to what you think is fixed reality

Being-itself wishes to participate in you just as you participate in It

Submitting to being-itself is terrifying:
You give up your self, your control over what you are

Yet in giving up yourself, you say, "let it be"
And you let be astonishing and delightful new things
You grow shoots, send down roots, and bear fruits of being
  that you never imagined possible

Because you cast yourself into the abyss
And grew to fill the void

A Homily for Nov. 11th

Here's another sketch of my Homily, this time for Remembrance  Day.  The readings were...
 

Wisdom 13:1-9
Psalm 19:2-5
Luke 17:26-37

--Today the gospel confronts us with Jesus' clear understanding of the division and suffering that are present in the world: how we eat and drink while sin cuts off our relationships with our neighbours

--As the book of Wisdom points out, humanity has great powers of perception yet ignores the deepest truth. Today we have access to detailed information (news stories, statistics, and our own awareness) which tells us of the extent of the suffering in our world... yet because this information comes in such a flood, we defend ourselves against it: unmoved, numb

--Today is Remeberence day; an opportunity to feel more profoundly...

here we have a fine example in the empathetic heart of St. Martin of Tours

--When Armistice day fell on the feast of St. Martin de Tours; the people of France felt the ancient soldier-saint was interceding for them

--during his life, Martin let himself be troubled by the suffering of others

--while riding to Gaul, Martin saw a ragged beggar along the road, he cut his own cloak in two and gave the beggar half

--that night Martin dreamed that Christ was in heaven, wearing the cloak, and saying “look, my friend Martin has clothed me”

--and when Martin awoke, he found the cloak he had cut – whole again

--Martin saw the division in the world and took that division onto himself, sharing it with the one who was suffering and allowing himself and his identity to be cut

--and by this obedience to God, what was cut in two was made whole again

--This is Christ's response, when he sees the vultures gathering. He lets himself be troubled by the immanent danger to every human person

--Finally, in obedience to the Father, He takes the division and suffering of humanity onto Himself; allowing Himself to be pierced by it in His Passion

--and Christ was made whole, healing the wounds of sin by His Resurrection

--Following St. Martin who followed Christ, let us lower our defenses, allow ourselves to be troubled by the suffering we see right before our eyes

--let us pray for the grace that when we find brokeness we may take it into our own hearts, letting our selves be cut by it

--with faith that by the power of Christ we will be made whole again

New Glasses

Here is a picture of me with my new glasses.  I like them and I notice an improvement for reading, which is good in this reading-heavy semester.

Adjusting to the new prescription was funny... I kept staring at my hands and seeing a distorted tunnel for an hour.  It was amusing and not headachy... perhaps like beings stoned.

Not that I'd know :>

Peace to all!

Some thoughts on Vocations

We believe that a vocation is an individual's sacred calling from God: the form of life that gives the person the greatest freedom and joy and which advances the Kingdom of God on earth. 

In western culture, we Catholics have been distressed that fewer and fewer give their lives to the vocations of priesthood and religious life. 

This has not been true in the global south.  Especially in southeast Asia, priests and religious are to be found in abundance. 

This got me to thinking... more than the call of individuals, what is our culture called to?  In the west, the culture has begun to radically disassociate sexuality from having children, seeing them as two separate categories.  This highlights the incredible importance of the vocation of marriage in the context of our own Catholic cultural identity.

Creating a family is a sacred task that requires much self-offering.  Far from simply provide for the needs of kids, parents radically lay down their personal projects and goals for the sake of being there for their children.  It is their self-offering that enables children to become agents of self-offering themselves.  Much as Christ's love for us enables us to love others. 

As a culture, we have become radically self-interested and we see the suspension of our autonomy for the sake of another as burdensome; or even unhealthy.  But this is the very foundation of parenthood and the first condition for human development.  As a consequence of the absence of this sort of loving vocation, huge swathes of the population grow up less than loved, feeling alienated, feeling that the goal of life is to grasp happiness but finding themselves unable to hold onto it.

I think happiness was never made to be grasped.  Our peace and joy are never complete until others place us above their own happiness... and until we lay our own happiness down for the sake of others.  Paradoxical but true.  And abundantly true in the vocation of marriage.

So perhaps the signs of our times are a call from the spirit towards a greater self-offering in the living out of our vocations.  I do not see the different states of life as in conflict on this point.  Self offering is key to marriage, priesthood, and religious life.  And the more it is found in one, the more it multiplies in others.  When we think about what our church and our culture need, let us be attentive to the voice of the Spirit.  What are people really being called to?  What are you called to?

We will always need priests to be a voice for the community.  But we should think about what vocations (and what attitudes towards them) are best suited to taking up the work of loving that the Spirit calls us to in our current context, here and now. 

A short homily: The Antidote to Fear

 Readings...
Romans 8:31-39
Psalm 109:21-22, 26-27, 30-31
Luke 13:31-35

The following address was made to my Jesuit brothers.  Our chapel is particularly shadowy in terms of lighting and my initial remarks made them laugh.  I like to write homilies in point form so I can extemporize a bit while keeping to key ideas.  I hope you like it... 

--This liturgical space freaks me out

--it's dark, and while I'm speaking to you, I cannot see you

--I cannot see whether you approve or disapprove of what I am saying

--and my imagination fills in the silence and the darkness, fills in the unknown with what I most fear

--An old Jesuit once told me: the antidote to fear is love

--Look at Christ in the Gospel today. Christ receives a message of fear and uncertainty: get away, they are going to try to kill you

--Jesus' response is full of life and courage:

“tell that old fox I am casting out demons and curing the sick!”

“On the third day I finish my work”

Jesus seems to say, “here I am... do your worst”

--I am struck by the vibrant humanity of Jesus' courage. He is laying his life on the line... and that resolve in his heart brings him delight and freedom... expressed in everything he says and does

--Christ does not have courage because he is powerful,

Nor because He can see the future.

--An earthly conqueror secures himself with armies and sends spies to gather intelligence. A earthly conqueror shows courage when he lays his life on the line for his empire and for his own ambitions

--Christ is more than a conqueror

--his awesome resolve in the face of danger does not come from security or intelligence... nor from his ability to rule

--It comes from the fact that he is laying his life on the line

for someone he loves. You.

--he is delighted and inspired to risk everything...

...because he delights in You and is inspired by You.

--You are the beloved children of Jerusalem that he longs to gather under His wing

--love is the antidote to Jesus' fear

Let us bring all our anxieties and concerns to Our Lord's table...

...where our fear finds its antidote.

Let us respond with love to Jesus who loves us so boldly

--and let us pray for courage and audacity in loving...

that we can lay our own lives on the line for others

--with freedom and delight... knowing that neither death, nor life, nor anything else in all creation... can separate us from His love

Thomas a Kempis - The Imitation of Christ

Monastic Life

  If you wish peace and concord with others, you must learn to break your will in many things. To live in monasteries or religious communities, to remain there without complaint, and to persevere faithfully till death is no small matter. Blessed indeed is he who there lives a good life and there ends his days in happiness.
If you would persevere in seeking perfection, you must consider yourself a pilgrim, an exile on earth. If you would become a religious, you must be content to seem a fool for the sake of Christ. Habit and tonsure change a man but little; it is the change of life, the complete mortification of passions that endow a true religious.
He who seeks anything but God alone and the salvation of his soul will find only trouble and grief, and he who does not try to become the least, the servant of all, cannot remain at peace for long.
You have come to serve, not to rule. You must understand, too, that you have been called to suffer and to work, not to idle and gossip away your time. Here men are tried as gold in a furnace. Here no man can remain unless he desires with all his heart to humble himself before God.

            -Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, ch. 17

Dialogue

Good morning.


Good morning.

How are you doing?


Not bad.  (Looks at crossword) I just can't seem to engage my brain today.

Well, if you develop your brain too much, you'll be the first one the zombies come for.

Hehe, I'll try to remember that.

No, don't!

Look upon it: and question the worth of sanity!

 

Ah, hello there.

You're wondering what this is, aren't you?

 

 I don't mind telling you it's one of the most rare
and powerful artifacts a man can possess.
Do you know what it is yet?

Indeed!  The legends are true! 
It is the mystical Swordbrella!

Yes, marvel as the stabbing sheets of rain
deflect as if rebounding off the walls of a fortress.

Now, let the power of my swordbrella saturate your soul
And wallow deeply in envy and despair!

The cover art for the new Tom Waits album...

 

Or at least, this is what I suggest.  Hugs!

Invisibility Cloak!

The social commentary is a cliche... but the gimmick is funny :>

Yesterday's SMBC...

Passing the Time

I got up at 6am today, which is unusual for me.  I wanted to scramble an get some reading done before class began.  I managed it and managed to stay on top of the conversation in class but afterwards I was exhausted.

I had a small paper to write over the afternoon and managed to do it and print it off before running to down some dinner; then it was off to RCIA class (an introduction, mainly for people who are seeking to become Catholic).  I forgot my subway pass and bought some tokens... then couldn't find where to put them.  It was embarrassing because I looked stupid: but in hindsight I was probably the only one who paid the incident any attention.

I was feeling tired and grumpy walking to the church and sat down looking at the sky.  I felt like I'd had it, and could do no more today.

An older lady came and sat beside me: right beside me on the bench.  She had a thick Torontonian accent.  "Whatcha' doin'?"

I felt like she was in my space a bit but tried to be friendly, "hi!  just passing the time". 

She struck up a conversation, being friendly and asking me questions.  It seemed like she just wanted to talk, as neighbours used to, sitting on porches.  I shared a bit of my story and she listened.  And in spite of me, I felt like I wasn't too tired after all.  Strange the way a tiny smile from a stranger can change a whole day.

Thinking back, I was on a bench in front of the lady's building: so I was probably in her usual spot.  And rather than be annoyed, she just took it as someone to talk to.

I'm grateful to her.  And happy.  I had a great session at RCIA as well.  I use the Socratic method.  And I never end up eliciting the responses I'd expect.  The candidates surprise me and open their world to me a bit.  And that's exciting. 

Now to bed.

Symphony No. 2 by Jean Sibelius is pretty awesome

Check it out!

Click Here for the Youtube playlist. 

Overview

Since I have not been posting in awhile, I thought I'd give a general overview of the situation...

I am very well.  I am living at Cardoner Jesuit community: we have about ten scholaastics (jesuit students) and four priests in the house.  I am getting along with everyone and we share a lot in common.  I have begun my MA in Philosophy at the Institute for Christian Studies here in Toronto.  I have four classes of three hours a week each.  They are very enjoyable and cover a wide range of topics from medieval thought on myth to contemporary biblical interpretation to the ethics of family and society. 

We have mass in the house every day except Sunday, when we visit the many interesting parishes around this part of town.  Its in the college neighbourhood so there are lots of students at the masses.

I have a few hours a week of volunteer work as well.  I am assisting with an RCIA program where we are introducing the faith to about twenty people interested in the chatecumenate.


I like the people I'm hanging out with and I like the work I'm doing: so I'm pretty much the luckiest guy ever.


Not much progress made on 'taking over the world',  Perhaps if I podcast more...

I'm back!

I've decided to start blogging more regularly once again: I miss my friends and I want you guys to know that I am doing well and thinking of you.

As well as share the occasional funny story.  For instance, today while we were doing the dishes someone commented that the English word "whatever" is best translated into most romance languages as a gesture: like throwing up of hands.

Somebody else commented that it may be different because you might not get away with answering a parent in such a manner. 

We debated how the word could be used to convey a simple lack of preference: "what do you want to do tonight?"  "whatever."  But it also could be an act of defiance: "clean your room" "whatever!"

"It all depends on the context of the utterance," said I, "let's go to the blackboard and I can explain some Wittgenstein and natural language analysis."

Without missing a beat, as one man, the six Jesuits in the room all through up their hands and cried "whatever!"

Whatever :>

Jesuit History: Conclusion

As you may recall from my last post, the Jesuits were in trouble with the Spanish government.  The Spaniards had made a treaty with the Portuguese to surrender the territory of the native peoples: the Guarani.  The Jesuits lived and worked closely with the Guarani; but were kicked out by the Spanish.  Fearing enslavement, the Guarani took up arms against he Portuguese, infuriating both monarchs.  The Jesuits were blamed.

Five years after the Guarani lost their war, the prime minister of Portugal, the Marquis de Pombol, completed a long-waged attack against the Jesuits.  There was a riot against state policies near the capital.  The 'Hat and Cloak Riots' were a fight over attempts by the government to abolish old practices of clothing in favour of modern (French) styles.  The people were outraged.  It is now agreed by historians that the Jesuits were completely uninvolved, but they were certainly blamed. And the Bourbon dynasty king of Portugal agreed with his minister: the Jesuits were to be expelled from Portugal.  They were woken in the night and told that by dawn they must be aboard sailing ships to the Papal states: "For the peace and harmony of the nation". 

Thus in 1759 Portugal, one of the oldest Jesuit provinces, was emptied.  And the other great Empires were shown that it could be done.  All that was needed was the courage to stand up to the Pope.  The dominoes began to fall.

The other Bourban royals had similar feelings about the power of the church and the Jesuits in particular.  High-ranking officials were outraged several years before when a Jesuit had taken out loans from the French elite to invest in sugar and indigo in order to finance the missions.  The ships carrying the cargoes were lost at sea and the Jesuit defaulted.  He was kicked out of the Society for violating the Jesuits' poverty rules... but the French still called the Society to task for the debt.  This mood of resentment, combined with the French King's solidarity with his counterpart in Portugal, lead to the 1764 expulsion of the Jesuits from France, "for the peace of the kingdom".

Three years later in Spain, similar pressures are being brought to bear.  And with similar false accusations of riot and rebellion, the Jesuits are expelled.  There are few places in Europe left for Jesuits to go; and poor Jesuits are shipped to Rome by the boatload.  Schools were left empty and many libraries and archives were seized by the state, never to be returned. 

And the Bourbon kingdoms begin cutting off trappings of Papal authority in their respective nations.  They deny the Pope many forms of temporal authority and give more power to local bishops.  And the Pope himself comes under heavy pressure to abolish the Jesuits: one of the strongest symbols of his temporal influence (in education and science, in the culture of the ruling class as confessors and orators).  There are even threats to the autonomy of the papal states if the Pope refuses to comply.  The Pontiff delays as long as possible... but it begins to be an issue of saving the Church or saving the Jesuits.  The Church eventually conceded.  And the order of suppression was given in 1773.

The document was called fiat pax.  The reason given for the dissolution of the Society was "for the peace of the church".  It named complaints against the Jesuits but did not speak to whether or not they were true. 

The dissolution took place gradually over the course of five-years.  Most Jesuits carried on as secular clergy under their bishops.  The Jesuits on mission, however, had a worse time of it.  Many of them were shipped back to Europe by hostile colonial powers.  A group of South American Jesuits were crammed into a ship's hold like prisoners with only a few loaves between them.  Over half perished  from the horrible conditions they endured.

The Jesuits made no plan to disobey the Papal edict.  And there are many accounts of Jesuits quietly bowing their heads in prayer upon hearing the news of the dissolution.  Some native North Americans offered to fight the Europeans on behalf of their beloved black-robes... but they were hurriedly requested to abandon thoughts of violence.  The Jesuits did the best they could to transition their missionary work to often-sympathetic Dominicans and Franciscans. 

However, Katherine the Great of Russia refused to promulgate the Papal edict in her kingdom.  She cited that Russia was autonomous from the squabbles of other powers and that the Jesuits were much needed for educating her people. 

When the Jesuits in Russia debated whether to carry on as Jesuits or to obey the edict, they sent a message to the Pope requesting instruction.  He wrote back to them instructing them to use their own discernment: "May the result of your prayer be a happy one".  So the Society carried on.

At the turn of the century, the landscape looked much different.  The Bourbon dynasties were drastically reduced in influence; especially after the French revolution.  And there was a new detente between 'the throne and the altar' in order to protect the traditions of power of the monarchies.  The Popes had been looking for any chance to reinstate the Jesuits and the bureaucratic steps were taken slowly and subtly.

In the end, the reinstatement of the Jesuits was not widely remarked-upon.  But in 1814 the Papal declaration was promulgated by the Holy See itself, so that no king might have the choice to obey or disobey it.  The Russian Society was found to be in continuity with both the old and the new Society of Jesus, and the long labour of rebuilding the Society began; with special emphasis on missions and education. 

The Society of Jesus continues to face various challenges.  For a long time the suppression had been a black-mark on the record of the Society and widely interpreted as a punishment for Jesuit arrogance.  But newer reflection has described the period as a sort of 'dark night of the soul' in which men, lacking any solid rule to cling to, clung bravely to faith in God.
.

The Blog is Back!

By popular request, I shall continue to update you with my poetry and prose.  I am currently in Denver, CO doing a course on Jesuit history,  Here is some of the fruit of my classes...

You know Eric: you have a general idea of how I react to controversies.  You know what sort of projects I get up to creating.  You might even know how I'd respond to people accusing me of things.  Imagine now, if you will, twenty-thousand Erics... of various aims and training, forming a tightly knit international organization in the 18th century. 

Jesuits worked in every corner of the world.  Beyond the borders of Spanish and Portugeuse colonies in South America, protected from slavers and European exploitation, Guarani indigenous peoples were composing chamber music for the harpsichord while missionaries copied volumes of their poetry on local printing presses.  To the Guarani, music, as well as words, are sacred, and arranging them beautifully is a task so important that everyone in town pitches in working in the fields to make time for musicians to practice.

In China, Jesuits serve the Imperial court as astronomers and philosophers, translating the works of Confucius and introducing the literati of the land to Euclid.  They permit the converts to Christianity to keep many of their local spiritual traditions and ceclebrate Christ in their own native language... a fact that earns them reproach from the West.

In Russia, India, Africa, the Polynesian islands, and North America... Jesuits are there and are at work building communities, colleges, and churches.  At home in europe, they are confessors and advisors to kings as well as defenders of the poor on the streets.  They educate without charging a fee, they construct refuges for people to get off the streets, and at the same time produce plays, paintings, and architecture to inspire the heart. 

It's not all good news of course.  They make mistakes as they learn their methods.  And they earn a reputation for being proud: building massive, expensive golden shrines to their saints and martyrs.  They are viewed with distrust by other religious orders and clergy for their name: the name of Jesus rather than the name of their founder.  They are suspected of paganism for their custom of wearing the clothes and speaking the languages of pagan nations. 

Also, back in South America, Portugeuse slavers make deeper raids into Guarani territory.  Under the auspices of the Jesuits, they receive permission to arm themselves against the invaders.  They are taught European fighting tactics and the use of muskets. 

And in old Europe, the rumblings of nationalism swell amidst the tidal forces of the Age of Reason.  Also called the age of exploration.  And the age of Empire.

Two great European empires come to a compromise over how to divide the world's territories between them.  Spanish and Portuguese monarchs draw a neat line across a map, splitting a continent they have never seen.  The Guarani find themselves split in two as well.  The Spanish King orders his Guarani to lay down their arms and submit themselves to Portuguese rule.  The Jesuits side with their friends against the edict of the state; they write pleading letters to Rome explaining as best they can why they cannot comply.  But the treaty is already a fait accompli.  The Spanish army eventually expels the Jesuits from South America.  The Guarani resist being ruled for seven years.  And the very arms the Jesuits had trained them to use were turned against the armies of the Portuguese king.  And the Spanish king is infuriated at this rebellion against his command.

All the while, popu;lar thought in europe is shifting.  Why should the church have so much control over the affairs of the state?  The practical and the rational must rule the day.  Why should the French church submit to an Italian Pope? The greatest symbol of the Pope's power and autonomy in the midst of a sovereign nation stands out like a black robe in a sunny street.  The Jesuits.  They disobey the rightful ruler of a nation.  They excuse rebellion and disorder with their equivocating morals.  The Jesuit style of morality was heavily entrenched in freedom of the moral agent, in 'casuistry', the notion that the person must adapt to the circumstances in which he finds himself.  Whereas the enlightenment set its sights on irreducibly true scientific and moral principles.  This unruly band of unpatriotic clerics, loyal only to Rome, was the enemy within.

Five years after the Guarani lost their war, the prime minister of Porutgal, the Marquis de Pombol, completed a long-waged attack against the Jesuits.  There was a riot against state policies near the capital.  The 'Black Cloak Riots' were a fight over attempts by the government to abolish old practices of clothing in favour of modern (French) styles.  The people were outraged.  It is now agreed by historians that the Jesuits were completely uninvolved, but they were certainly blamed. And the Bourbon dynasty king of Portugal agreed with his minister: the Jesuits were to be expelled from Portugal.  They were woken in the night and told that by dwn they must be aboard sailing ships to the Papal states: "For the peace and harmony of the nation". 

One of the oldest Jesuit provinces was emptied.  And the other great Empires were shown that it could be done.  All that was needed was the courage to stand up to the Pope.  The Jesuits were on the brink of extinction...

TO BE CONTINUED!

Life is Beautiful

Today was the very last day for me to go out with the students on their retreat, which typically goes from 9am to 1:30pm.  I have always gotten a lot of enjoyment from these: the pre-teens are eager for knowledge and ask interesting questions, like "why can't Jesuits get married?  If everyone became a Jesuit, that would mean the human race would go extinct?"  I get to talk about my experience of being pulled by God in the direction that gives me life, freedom, and joy; and I teach basic skills for examining one's life - saying 'yes' to movements that lead to life and joy and moving towards it. 

At the end of the day, I was telling a group how I would be going back to Canada and might never see them again.  They were cutely distressed and were very eager to invite me back to Jamaica to teach them next year.  In an amazingly short time we all connected.  I'll miss them and they'll miss me.  And they each gave me a hug before heading off back to school on their bus.  Sometimes, life is really beautiful.

The Rapture

"Are you worried about the rapture?"

"Only if they learn to open doors"

"That's raptors."

I spent the last week hearing from students asking if judgment day was coming on Saturday.  I told them I would be disappointed if the world ended before the anime series "Naruto" reached its conclusion.

They constantly discuss this on the Jamaican news like it's news.  Droves of people are panicking and getting baptized with the charismatics... who cough politely and remark that even more merit comes from making donations.  It's taking advantage of people's fear and its kinda sad.

In seriousness, I let the students know that scripture is very clear, "we know neither the minute nor the hour".  So everytime some jerk comes on TV asking for your money and giving you dates, you know at least it won't be then.

Oh well, it would be pretty hilarious if the rapture did happen on Saturday... then I'd look a right fool :>

Zebra enlightenment

Friends.  Sorry for not posting in awhile.  Honestly, there has not been much going on.  I am happy and blessed to be out here in Jamaica: although with summer coming there's an incredible temptation to sleep in the afternoons.

I'm teaching a class on World Religions and dialogue with Christianity.  We had a lot of fun studying Buddhist poetry.  After we identified some of the main themes and motifs, I had the students take a look at a few sample poems.  They love paradoxes.

The next assignment was for them to compose their own poem with the same Buddhist themes and style.  I know not everyone is a poet, so I didn't mark based on quality.  Rather, it was about whether they could show me they knew what the themes meant.

There was a terrific response.  They were so proud of their creative work: and very creative most of the poems were.  They all wanted me to read theirs and see what they'd done.  It was really nice as a teacher to get that kind of reaction.

My favourite was as follows:
"The many paths to enlightenment
Are like zebras
All different
Yet all the same"

The student made a black and white stripey border and did the poem in calligraphy.  I am reluctant to give it back: it would be fun to keep.

Things are winding down as I look forward to returning to Canada on the 31st of this month.  I'm gonna miss this place. 

I hope, wherever you are, that you are well :>

Tremor

This morning, at about 4:20 am, I had a dream.  In this dream I was interrupted because giant hands took the room I was in and shook it like a doll-house.  I woke up to hear my door rattling and in a panicked moment thought someone was trying to break into my room.  Which was silly, because the door is not locked.  But really my whole bed rumbled like a big semi was going by ten feet away.

In fact, it was an earth-tremor, quite common in Jamaica.  Nothing fell off the shelves except my water bottle which I knocked over myself while reaching for my glasses :>  However, all the car-alarms in the city activated, all the dogs began barking, and after they had all settled down, all the birds were chattering to eachother.

It was, for someone from the bedrock of the Canadian shield, quite interesting!

Sprite

The Sprite around here is labeled "Proudly Produced in Jamaica".  They have a bottling plant here.  And it does not say so on the ingredients - but I will testify in any court you like that it has the faintest hint of ginger about it.  Not bad at all.

Also, mixing a small quantity of sprite into orange juice and then mixing it with a large quantity of vanilla ice cream is absolutely delicious!  Try it at home, kids!

Existentialism?

Christians and existentialism always seem to be in opposition.  For me, however, existentialism and its perspective has deepened and strengthened my own Christian perspective.

Let's say existentialism is the idea that nothing has an intrinsic meaning and that meaning is created by human beings.

At first blush, this seems to contradict Christianity.  Everything has an intrinsic meaning: it was created by God and it is good.  The world contains the notions of good and evil and God enforces them.  Striving to understand the world is a search for the mysterious meaning God placed in the world.

Let's go back to existentialism.  A table is just a collection of molecules and calling it a 'shape' or 'good' are human perspectives originating in human beings.   

Is God really committed to the idea that a table must be a table adn could not be anything else?  God gives us the freedom to assign meaning to the table with which we are confronted.  We can call it good, we could even call it sacred. 

When we make a table and put it in a church and say Mass around it, does the table become sacred?  Was it sacred all along or did God make it sacred once we put it in the church?

A more sensible approach for a Christian might be to say that everything in nature is sacred and that God gave us the freedom to acknowledge this aspect of His reality or not in our own way. 

If you look at the life of Christ, He's often assigning new meaning to things, or playing on old meaning, or asking others what a thing might mean.  Would it be accurate to say that a cross has always, objectively in its nature, been a symbol of redemption?  Or would it be better to say that as both Human and Divine, Christ imbued the cross with this meaning through his actions.

And this view ends up looking oddly similar to many forms of existentialism.  The world is a sort of blank slate which we imbue with meaning through our choices, actions, and perspective.  Rather than decry this as a human limitation, Christ elevates this capacity to one of the highest human goods.

We are still left with the idea that Christ came on earth to explain what was good and what was bad; and that the idea of good and bad is not arbitrary.  However, the primal goods God displays are intersting

Creation, making something is good if the thing made is good
Love, a total and trusting giving of self to the other without thought of return is a good


These things which are goods look like they heavily involve the human capacity to create meaning in order to interact with things. 

At the end of the day, we know humans encounter the world and incorporate those experiences into a story which for them has some meaning.  This is not a bad thing for Christians, who can argue that this way of relating was given to us by God for the purpose of freely relating to God and His creation. 

The existentialist humanist might argue that this is an act of faith, unsupported by evidence, and that we are only certain that it is our human experience.  We cannot say from whence it comes.

But this doesn't stop most existentialist humanists from making a leap of faith: they assert without proof that the capacity to create meaning emerges from our natural biological properties, likely as the result of evolution.

I have no problem with this explanation.  But it is an act of faith nonetheless to support it.  We know with philosophical certainly only that we make meaning, not from whence the capacity to do so comes.

I would humbly submit that if there is a God then natural processes have given rise to human beings with the capacity to make meaning in order that we might know, interact with, and love God and one another.  They have an intended function.  There is scope and depth and awesomeness of reality and in the human potential to constantly explore and divine new and surprising meanings from a seemingly limitless cosmos

Happy Easter!

I crawled back home last Sunday night after a very intense Easter Triduum.

On Thursday I was driven downtown, to where the fences are wavy sheet-metal painted in bright colours and the accents are thick and salty.

For example, at one point I was asked, "Heyme boa gah licka' oiya fadis?" 

"Oh, you want a little oil for... the hinge you are fixing... well I don't know where any oil is."  Fortunately, most people are smiley and friendly and usually don't mind repeating things. 

I was assigned to St. Annie's (nobody calls it St. Anne's).  It's a moderate-sized concrete building painted cream and powder-blue.  The floor is scuffed and the pews are ancient but the place is well taken care of (though the pastor complains that the women keep draping white linens over every available surface.

There is a churchyard with some grass and an old, stone alcove from the original St. Annie's of 1894.  Inside the alcove is a statue that looks like it could be Mary but is probably St. Anne.

Holy Thursday was a small, sparsely attended ceremony.  But with a lot of heart.  The people were pretty shy and unwilling to get their feet washed - perhaps a universal trait of Catholics.  But we got it done.  My three-day stay had begun.


On Good Friday I realized too late that we'd technically violated the rubric of the mass.  Because father was not confident in his singing voice, I was assigned the great honour of processing in the cross.  I wore a white alb and carried a large, heavy cross into the church from the side.  The Christ-figure was draped in purple cloth.  I knelt down before this cross, then elevated it so that all could see.  I sang a single phrase in the style of a Gregorian chant, "This is the wood of the cross, on which hung the saviour of the world."  Then I proceeded to the central aisle of the church, all eyes upon me.  The phrase was repeated, a semitone higher.  Finally, before the Holy Altar I knelt and removed the purple clothe.  My voice almost cracked as I went up another semi-tone, raising the cross high: "This is the wood of the cross! on which hung the saviour of the world!"  My role completed, I handed the cross off to the altar-servers, and the whole church came up in turn, either kissing or kneeling and touching the feet of the Christ figure.

As it turns out, only a priest or deacon can perform that particular function according to the rules.  Mea culpa.  I am sure the mass was still valid and it gives me the teensiest foretaste of my future career.  However, in my vocation I hope to me more knowledgeable about liturgy.

Saturday night saw me singing five psalms (responsorial canticles).  One after each reading from the Old Testament.  I lost my place a few times but I did not panic or get embarrassed.  I wanted to sing well - but I wasn't really singing, I was trying to pray the psalms out loud.  It all worked out.  I completely forgot the tune for my final one, "You will draw water joyfully from the springs of salvation."  So I tried to make up something that sounded happy.  The organist was very patient with me and tried to follow along.  Nobody really noticed me, bigger things are afoot at that vigil.  A beautiful-voiced young girl sang the Exultet.  She put her heart into it. Tears welled up in my eyes, as they often do.  The Exultet is an articulation of what a Catholic tries to live everyday throughout the whole of the year and through the whole of life.

A bright-eyed Jamaican teacher, mother, and Soprano, about my age, was charged with singing the Litany of Saints.  I sat in the background during her practice and played the congregation, echoing the proper responses.  She said, "why you hang back, get up here wit' me and help me out."  So during the mass, we sang the litany as a duet; our voices trading places and merging as the church echoed us.  We penciled in a few of my favourite saints to fill out the song.  Usually the song is sung in a monotone, but we gave it some soul. 

Twelve very joyful Jamaican men and women celebrated the adult rite of baptism.  There is a pool for such occasions, out in the warm dark of the churchyard beneath the watchful gaze of the St. Anne statue.  Neighbourhood children came to gather around and laugh and cheer as the grown-ups in their nice church clothes got all wet in the pool.

I was forever being crawled on by children.  They have a near-uncontrollable yearning to play with my dangling, curly hair.  They have never seen hair that grows out in locks.  Even the grown-up Jamaicans laugh at it as a novelty. 

There are a lot of children living in poverty.  It breaks my heart.  Every one of these children deserves better.  It makes me want to stop what I'm doing, go get a job, move in with them, support them, tell them they are beloved and unique and have a contribution to make to the world.  They deserve a father who will look out for them and help them grow in knowledge and wisdom.  And they don't get one.  They get dusty streets to play in.  They get fast friends and quick enemies.  They get yelled at when they are a bother and left to wander the rest of the time.  They are never listened to and so do not learn the vital knack of listening.  In spite of that, they grow - they become strong and fierce and brave and sad and happy and intense.  They are little people remarkably full of life and vitality.

In watching the fathers perform their duties I have experienced a strong confirmation of my desire to be a servant of the church.  I can say the words, I can mean them.  I can be there for people when they want the sacraments.  I can be someone who loves without condition.  The people here treasure their faith like a sparkling gem.  They pour their hearts into it and they take hope with them into their world.  And they dance and sing.  Very loudly.  I was thrilled.  Then quickly exhausted.  Saturday night I hit the bed like a brick and woke up for Sunday to learn another psalm tune.  I was grumpy and had to laugh at myself because Easter kept refusing to happen according to my particular habits.  It is a living God we chain ourselves to - manifold in works.  I am disappointed exactly to the extent that I am arrogant in wanting things my way.  The extent to which I let God's will be done I am happy enough to laugh and smile. It was nice and easy and Sunday morning all worked out.

We ate the traditional Easter treat: spice-bun with raisins (called Easter Bun) and cheese.  Not cheese so much as cans of yellowy plastic that schlurp out and retain the consistency of a kraft single.  I didn't like that - but once I got some easter bun, slathered it in good creamy butter and microwaved it, it was very delicious indeed. 

So that was my Triduum.  I am back at the Jez rez uptown near the college preparing for my last month of teaching but enjoying a bit of a break.  I miss my fellow novices and community, my family and friends, and the homeless folks back in Montreal.  You should have seen my smile when someone came to our door begging for food - it was like receiving a visit from an old friend and I sat down and chatted with him over chicken and rice.  Things are going amazingly well and I'm the grateful recipient of much kindness from God's people and much grace from God's great spirit.  I keep all of you in my prayers.

Happy Easter!

Current Location

Sitting in the crook of a mango tree, feeling the breeze shake me slowly back and forth.

Poetry Club!

I am today the proud recipient of the "Best New Member" certificate of the Campion College poetry club

The award was presented by the students at our Tuesday meeting: the occasion was marked by a gentle spring rain. in the rain.  In humble gratitude, the honouree penned this limerick...

There once was a teacher at Campion
Who swore he'd be poetry champion
But his rhymes and his verses
Converted to curses
As the rain, it came down for to dampen him.

Reggae and social justice

 The key political inspiration of the Rasta movement lived and died a Catholic.  He pursued labour reforms and urban development... but he also lobbied the government for public libraries and opera houses.

Rasta opera would be awesome!

Ironically, most kids here in Jamaica listen to pop and hip-hop, totally ignorant that the collision of American rhythm and blues in the 20s with African and Caribbean music in Jamaica created Reggae and Ska, from which rap, hip-hop, pop, and even rock derive heavily. 

The tragedy is that the music that was used as the voice of the people to promote the dignity of the poor, equality and freedom from oppression and racism, and the condemnation of greed in favour of brotherhood... because now hip-hop in its most generalized expression  is basically marketing. 

But, as a great sage once said.  You can fool soma di people soma di time.  But you can't fool all di people all di time.  Keep on fighting for your rights :>

Chugging Along

Hello, friends and family.  Sorry for the lack of posting.  I've been somewhat exhausted.  The end-of-term crunch is happening with my fifth-form classes.  I have lots to organize.  In addition I'm helping out with some more retreats.  Good news: I have my passport extension and exit-date all worked out.  The Jamaican govt. is happy to let me stay in the country - for a modest fee.  I'll be on my way back to the great, white north on May 31st as planned.

The classes and retreats have been rewarding.  I am speaking on themes of friendship with Christ and friendship with others, conflict resolution, maturity in relationships, and so-on.

It's very energizing to hear the decisive and interested questions of my classes.  They have helped me form this reply: I could give you a lot of rules and guidelines for behaving... but I am more interested in teaching you to use your brains to examine your behaviour and decisions and help you make your own judgments based on what you truly desire and value.  Hooray for Jesuit education.

The holy season of Lent continues to be a time of more focused prayer and reflection.  Sometimes I think of myself as a sort of expert who, using the techniques of prayer, can grow closer to God... in the light of the Spirit, this type of thinking is revealed as simply ridiculous.  The mystery of love is deep and unending.  The presence of God is not something that can be conjured by special words.  It is given as a gift to all people... in myriad and remarkable ways.  All I can do is look to be open and receptive to that gift.

Jamaica continues to get hotter.  The grass is yellowing and the pavement blazes like a stove-top in the afternoon sun.  And I hope you are doing well.

TIME, time

TIME, time
By Eric


IT IS time. 
ONLY FOR A MOMENT

THE HEART stands.
 WILL NOT still
 and WAIT FOR someone
 will announce THE CALL
the end
THAT SATISFIES.

Wake, DREAMER
Sleep, RESTLESS WORRIER
It's all the same. 
I FINALLY FOUND The question
THAT is SWEET
What is BETWEEN
your solution
and my problem.?

I WOULD rather WANDER
AND WONDER what
is the point of asking, for
WHO WOULD KNOW WITHOUT
having DELIGHT? at the mystery...?

That is more fun.

IT IS BETTER time flows on.
NOT TO KNOW time is indeed sweeter than to know TIMELESS THINGS

IT IS BETTER not TO BE CONFUSED
where you are going

Seeds on Hard Ground

Many of you will have already read Tom Waits' poem: "Seeds on Hard Ground".  The full text of it is available here and I heartily recommend it.  It also serves as good spiritual reading in addition to being a fine poem in its own right.

Tom Waits published copies of the poem to raise money for the homeless in his area.  It speaks to his own experience of the problems of the very poor he has encountered; and their songs and stories.

But I found it a poignant reminder of my own work with the homeless in Montreal.  And it even speaks to me here in this tropical land, where the massive gap between rich and poor so sharply divides the haves and have-nots.

There are many messages that I appreciate.  One is the human need for growth, even in the worst conditions.  But the use of the biblical image is so perfect.  Tom Waits does not call the people hard ground, as Christ indicated in his explanation of the parable of the sower.  Tom Waits points out that the people are also the seeds. 

The poor are God's Word, being sown upon the earth in the hopes they will bear fruit in the charity of others.  But we, individuals and societies, are hard ground.  We do not listen to the Word of God beings spoken so clearly in the eyes of those in desperate and desolate need of our love, attention, and respect. 

A seed that cannot grow because of our hardness of heart is indeed a tragedy.  And it stirs us to soften and listen, so that the poor can find a place in our own hearts, and bear fruit. 

Comic annoyance

People are not really this big!

Note to textbook publishers: beginning your book with the line "We literally live in a global village" is quite possibly the lamest opening imaginable.  It's pretty much that or a dictionary definition of "excellence".  If we lived in a global village I could literally walk over to your hut and praise you for the accuracy of your imagery.  But I'm not doing that. Because I would have to walk thousands of miles and you don't have a hut.

Literally.

Consider

Blessings to you on the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord.  Thanks to Ted, who introduced me to Sufjan Stevens' music through this song...

Dialogue

Eric: "So is asking God to overthrow an unjust society a real prayer?"

Students: "Asking God for help in doing violence is sinful"

Eric: "What of the psalms and the prayers of Israel for victory over the enemy?"

Students: "They are God's chosen people, God does give them victory if they obey Him."

Eric: "So violence isn't wrong?"

The class splits on the issue.  They ask whether there were such prayers in the New Testament

Eric: "Jesus, when he is arrested, tells his followers not to do violence to rescue Him.  He remarks that, if he wanted to, he could command legions of angels to overcome His enemies.  But He does not wish to because He wants to work the Salvation of the world according to the Father's will.  Note that he could pray for military victory if he wished.  It would be a valid prayer.  But it is not a perfect prayer.  Likewise, the Israelite armies prayer for victory was real and good, because they expressed their true desires to God and trusted in His power and help. 

Similarly, we have our own stages of prayer.  Sometimes we pray to God for what we want, which is good and healthy.  But it triggers a process wherein which we move closer to God.  And through growing, learning, struggling, and developing we can reach the stage where, like Jesus, we ask not for what we ourselves want but what God wants."

Eric: "Why are you talking while I'm talking?"

Student: "Well, I -"  pause.

Eric: "Yes?"

Student: "Forget it, I was going to explain, justify why this guy was... while I... anyways..."

Eric: "You're sensing that there is no good reason for you to be talking while I'm talking.  Good.  There could be a good reason.  You might have a bomb strapped to your heart that will explode if you stop talking, that's an example..."