Showing posts with label 1991. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1991. Show all posts
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Discipline And Abundance
October 4, 1991
In the Middle Ages a monk framed the Law of the Monastic Cycle: “Discipline begats abundance, and abundance, unless we take the utmost care, destroys discipline; and discipline in its fall pulls down abundance.” This Monastic Cycle applied to those monasteries and religious orders which through a stern routine of work and prayer built up wealth and power. But yielding to the temptation to spend and enjoy the riches led to varieties of corruption, unseemly pomp and luxurious possessions, greed for money and sumptuous living, violations of the oaths of chastity with many monasteries and convents deserving the name of brothel rather than sanctuary. (Roland Bainton, REFORMATION OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY and other sources.) Henry VIII by proclaiming himself Head of the Church in England, and by severing allegiance to the Pope, not only secured his divorce to marry Anne Boleyn, but also gave himself the power to seize the jewels, wealth, and large estates of the monastic orders. Which he forthwith did, giving much of these to his favorites; thereby altering irrevocably the distribution of land, wealth and power in Britain.
The “law of the monastic cycle” may not be a universal rule. But it merits thoughtfulness in any place and time. We live in a nation of much abundance. (How that abundance is distributed is a dilemma of values and economics too complex to pursue here.) Has our abundance destroyed discipline, and, consequently, will abundance become scarcity?
Our land has rewarded us abundantly. For two centuries it required discipline: dawn to dusk hard work to clear, plow, seed, tend and reap the crops; hardship and determination to push ever more West, seeking the furs, gold, lumber. The great rivers were channels of profitable commerce. Engineers and sweated labor built the railroads that created and transported abundance. The ancient forests provided lumber for houses, barns, masts, furniture and other uses beyond counting. The rivers and streams irrigated the West producing fruit, vegetables, wheat, beyond any visionary dreams. We became the richest nation that history records.
But in the last century or so, something went wrong. We polluted the rivers and streams. Fish died. We dumped immeasurable tons of garbage in our ancient Mother, the Sea. Forests were denuded and became barren, ravaged hills. Chemical pesticides poisoned not only insect life, but also farm workers, not to speak of the unknown but probable toxic effects on many people who consumed the produce. One could go on in book-lengths how we have harmed ourselves and our posterity because because we thought the natural world was ours to use for unlimited profits, rather than recognizing that, we. too, are the natural world and certain to be maimed by our own excesses. “The land was ours before we were the land’s” (Robert Frost)
Is the “law of the monastic cycle” in effect? Will the breakdown in discipline lead to scarcity? Who knows the future? But there are ominous portents.
A culture of consumerism prevails. There are T-shirts and shopping bags with the motto, “shop ’til you drop.” Comedy or tragedy? Our national economy seems to depend on constantly accelerating consumer purchases, preferably, big ticket. An article in the Business section the other day pointed out that because only interest on home mortgages is now deductible on the Federal Income Tax return, buyers were paying up credit card debt because that interest is no longer a deduction. A parallel consequence is that people are buying less in order to limit debt interest, thus reducing sales. Such a mercantile and marketing worry is a reminder of Emerson’s judgment, “things are in the saddle and ride mankind.”
“Discipline” is a much reiterated word, at least in schools, many (but not all) homes, and the military. Whether the concept prevails widely in practice in our culture is arguable. In one of Saki’s (H. H. Munro) inimitable short stories, there is a cutting satire about discipline. An army regiment mutinied and killed its officers because the food was so deplorable, “...(the) War Minister saved the situation by his happy epigram ‘Discipline, to be effective, must be optional.’” Ridiculous? Of course. However, if there is not a strong motive of self-discipline, coerced discipline, in the long run, fails. The famous naturalist, John Muir (1838-1914) once said that he was richer than railroad multimillionaire, E. J. Harriman. Said Muir, “I have all the money I want and he hasn’t.”
Now I am not so uninformed and dense to assert that everyone with abundance will be victims of the Law of the Monastic Cycle. I have known many persons who have acquired abundance and maintained their self-discipline. They have found the balance between authentic needs and fleeting desires. They know the difference between a Sales Pitch and an answer to the issue at hand. They are less likely to strike out on a sinking curve or an illegal spitball. They have not fallen victim to the Monastic Cycle. May the numbers of these self-disciplinarians increase. Millions more are needed if there is to be some grasp on susceptibility, waste, pollution, corruption. Individually and in our institutions we need the guts to resist easy, pleasant (and wrong) answers to hard, unpleasant problems.
You might ask, “Any suggestions, Old Timer?” I could refer you to the Book of Lamentations in the Hebrew scriptures. But I am not as gloomy or sorrowful about our times as that author was over the destruction of Jerusalem and the desolation of the Jewish people. Instead, I’ll write an extended metaphor about the Beetle Ring.
Thirty or so years ago, I conducted service at the Cobblestone Universalist Church on the shores of Lake Ontario. Membership had dwindled; there was just an Annual Service. This Universalist Church was built in 1834, using lake stones smoothed by aeons of wind, wave, freeze, thaw. The building is a gem of the stonemasons' craftsmanship. The laying of cobblestones was much more difficult than brick. Bricks nest solidly together, but cobblestones do not. The layering of the mortar so that uniformity of tiers could be achieved was a skill that the stonemasons kept to themselves. The stones were uniform in size and how they were selected was not a secret.
The stonemasons used the Beetle Ring to sort the cobblestones. The Beetle Ring, either iron or stone, was a slab in which a hole had been cut away. If a cobblestone could be passed through the Beetle Ring, it was not too large for use; too small cobblestones would be obvious.
If many of us would use a Beetle Ring in our handling of abundance, perhaps self-discipline would be less vulnerable. We have needs; we have wants. Many times our “wants” are disproportionate to our needs. With a Beetle Ring of the resources of our minds, emotions, and values, we might discern if our “wants” are too large for our Beetle Ring. Then we could decide not to build that “want” into the building of Self. All of us have desires beyond our basic needs. That's OK – reasonable self-indulgence is not a vice. Midas would have been happier if he used a Beetle Ring. So would Donald Trump, if there is some truth in the many stories of his extravagance. Every one of you could cite other examples.
A Beetle Ring most assuredly could be used by our Federal, State and Municipal governments. I do not have to review for you all the “turkeys” that are voted to placate “at-home” interests and voters.
One concluding observation: One of the fascinating opening sentences in a novel that I have remembered for years was Sabatini’s dashing story, SCARAMOUCHE, “He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.” If you think enough about that sentence, you may, like I have, believe living could be worse. If we can’t now and then chuckle or laugh at absurdities, even painful ones, we will miss ways we can cope with the strangeness of it all.
I’ll write no Book of Lamentations. No one of us is compelled to obey the Law of the Monastic Cycle. We need not assent tamely to institutions, government and corporate, who mistakenly believe they are exempt from that law.
In the Middle Ages a monk framed the Law of the Monastic Cycle: “Discipline begats abundance, and abundance, unless we take the utmost care, destroys discipline; and discipline in its fall pulls down abundance.” This Monastic Cycle applied to those monasteries and religious orders which through a stern routine of work and prayer built up wealth and power. But yielding to the temptation to spend and enjoy the riches led to varieties of corruption, unseemly pomp and luxurious possessions, greed for money and sumptuous living, violations of the oaths of chastity with many monasteries and convents deserving the name of brothel rather than sanctuary. (Roland Bainton, REFORMATION OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY and other sources.) Henry VIII by proclaiming himself Head of the Church in England, and by severing allegiance to the Pope, not only secured his divorce to marry Anne Boleyn, but also gave himself the power to seize the jewels, wealth, and large estates of the monastic orders. Which he forthwith did, giving much of these to his favorites; thereby altering irrevocably the distribution of land, wealth and power in Britain.
The “law of the monastic cycle” may not be a universal rule. But it merits thoughtfulness in any place and time. We live in a nation of much abundance. (How that abundance is distributed is a dilemma of values and economics too complex to pursue here.) Has our abundance destroyed discipline, and, consequently, will abundance become scarcity?
Our land has rewarded us abundantly. For two centuries it required discipline: dawn to dusk hard work to clear, plow, seed, tend and reap the crops; hardship and determination to push ever more West, seeking the furs, gold, lumber. The great rivers were channels of profitable commerce. Engineers and sweated labor built the railroads that created and transported abundance. The ancient forests provided lumber for houses, barns, masts, furniture and other uses beyond counting. The rivers and streams irrigated the West producing fruit, vegetables, wheat, beyond any visionary dreams. We became the richest nation that history records.
But in the last century or so, something went wrong. We polluted the rivers and streams. Fish died. We dumped immeasurable tons of garbage in our ancient Mother, the Sea. Forests were denuded and became barren, ravaged hills. Chemical pesticides poisoned not only insect life, but also farm workers, not to speak of the unknown but probable toxic effects on many people who consumed the produce. One could go on in book-lengths how we have harmed ourselves and our posterity because because we thought the natural world was ours to use for unlimited profits, rather than recognizing that, we. too, are the natural world and certain to be maimed by our own excesses. “The land was ours before we were the land’s” (Robert Frost)
Is the “law of the monastic cycle” in effect? Will the breakdown in discipline lead to scarcity? Who knows the future? But there are ominous portents.
A culture of consumerism prevails. There are T-shirts and shopping bags with the motto, “shop ’til you drop.” Comedy or tragedy? Our national economy seems to depend on constantly accelerating consumer purchases, preferably, big ticket. An article in the Business section the other day pointed out that because only interest on home mortgages is now deductible on the Federal Income Tax return, buyers were paying up credit card debt because that interest is no longer a deduction. A parallel consequence is that people are buying less in order to limit debt interest, thus reducing sales. Such a mercantile and marketing worry is a reminder of Emerson’s judgment, “things are in the saddle and ride mankind.”
“Discipline” is a much reiterated word, at least in schools, many (but not all) homes, and the military. Whether the concept prevails widely in practice in our culture is arguable. In one of Saki’s (H. H. Munro) inimitable short stories, there is a cutting satire about discipline. An army regiment mutinied and killed its officers because the food was so deplorable, “...(the) War Minister saved the situation by his happy epigram ‘Discipline, to be effective, must be optional.’” Ridiculous? Of course. However, if there is not a strong motive of self-discipline, coerced discipline, in the long run, fails. The famous naturalist, John Muir (1838-1914) once said that he was richer than railroad multimillionaire, E. J. Harriman. Said Muir, “I have all the money I want and he hasn’t.”
Now I am not so uninformed and dense to assert that everyone with abundance will be victims of the Law of the Monastic Cycle. I have known many persons who have acquired abundance and maintained their self-discipline. They have found the balance between authentic needs and fleeting desires. They know the difference between a Sales Pitch and an answer to the issue at hand. They are less likely to strike out on a sinking curve or an illegal spitball. They have not fallen victim to the Monastic Cycle. May the numbers of these self-disciplinarians increase. Millions more are needed if there is to be some grasp on susceptibility, waste, pollution, corruption. Individually and in our institutions we need the guts to resist easy, pleasant (and wrong) answers to hard, unpleasant problems.
You might ask, “Any suggestions, Old Timer?” I could refer you to the Book of Lamentations in the Hebrew scriptures. But I am not as gloomy or sorrowful about our times as that author was over the destruction of Jerusalem and the desolation of the Jewish people. Instead, I’ll write an extended metaphor about the Beetle Ring.
Thirty or so years ago, I conducted service at the Cobblestone Universalist Church on the shores of Lake Ontario. Membership had dwindled; there was just an Annual Service. This Universalist Church was built in 1834, using lake stones smoothed by aeons of wind, wave, freeze, thaw. The building is a gem of the stonemasons' craftsmanship. The laying of cobblestones was much more difficult than brick. Bricks nest solidly together, but cobblestones do not. The layering of the mortar so that uniformity of tiers could be achieved was a skill that the stonemasons kept to themselves. The stones were uniform in size and how they were selected was not a secret.
The stonemasons used the Beetle Ring to sort the cobblestones. The Beetle Ring, either iron or stone, was a slab in which a hole had been cut away. If a cobblestone could be passed through the Beetle Ring, it was not too large for use; too small cobblestones would be obvious.
If many of us would use a Beetle Ring in our handling of abundance, perhaps self-discipline would be less vulnerable. We have needs; we have wants. Many times our “wants” are disproportionate to our needs. With a Beetle Ring of the resources of our minds, emotions, and values, we might discern if our “wants” are too large for our Beetle Ring. Then we could decide not to build that “want” into the building of Self. All of us have desires beyond our basic needs. That's OK – reasonable self-indulgence is not a vice. Midas would have been happier if he used a Beetle Ring. So would Donald Trump, if there is some truth in the many stories of his extravagance. Every one of you could cite other examples.
A Beetle Ring most assuredly could be used by our Federal, State and Municipal governments. I do not have to review for you all the “turkeys” that are voted to placate “at-home” interests and voters.
One concluding observation: One of the fascinating opening sentences in a novel that I have remembered for years was Sabatini’s dashing story, SCARAMOUCHE, “He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.” If you think enough about that sentence, you may, like I have, believe living could be worse. If we can’t now and then chuckle or laugh at absurdities, even painful ones, we will miss ways we can cope with the strangeness of it all.
I’ll write no Book of Lamentations. No one of us is compelled to obey the Law of the Monastic Cycle. We need not assent tamely to institutions, government and corporate, who mistakenly believe they are exempt from that law.
Friday, March 5, 2010
DEAD AGAIN (and again and again)
September 3, 1991
Saturday afternoon, Sara, Kirk and I saw the movie “Dead Again.” The film was violent, gripping, and intense, with reincarnation the crux of the plot. Two star-crossed lovers experience agony and death in one life; then are reincarnated to endure mystery, dangers, and confusion, but with a happy ending. (Until the next time? On a Clear Day you can see sequels forever?)
Aware that I know of several persons close to me who believe in reincarnation (while I am yet unconvinced), I recalled a Sunday presentation in Lakeland some years ago. My talk followed one by Harold Cole, a well-informed member who believed in reincarnation. The film “Dead Again” led me to dig out my notes on that talk. The following is a rewrite but I did not seem to be able to shorten the text. So what follows is lengthy. So if you think the question trivial, skip it. But if, for you, it is “deja vu all over again” (Yogi Berra), then you might read on.
Have we lived before? Will we live again? In attempting this second part of a discussion on reincarnation, I was reminded of what Jacob Bronowski wrote in the ASCENT OF MAN: “There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim, whether they are scientists or dogmatists, open the door to tragedy. All information is imperfect. We have to treat it with humility.” In that vein, I hope my observations will be properly modest.
With such an attitude, I comment on:
1) The surprising extent of the belief in reincarnation in all parts of the ancient world.
2) The suppression of the belief in reincarnation in the early Christian centuries.
3) The appeal of the idea of reincarnation to many well-known 19th century Unitarians and Universalists.
4) The powerful sense of justice that is inescapable when reincarnation is posited as an inexorable consequence.
5) But also I will point out some difficulties to be confronted in accepting reincarnation.
1) As Harold Cole pointed out, reincarnation is not just an Hindu and Buddhist idea, but also has roots in ancient Egypt and Greece, not to speak of the pre-historic nature religions of the Druids, Celts, and Teutonic tribes. One scholar (Cranston, p. 203) writes that reincarnation seems to have been a part of the Orphic mysteries before the time of Pythagoras, although that famous philosopher/mathematician advocated reincarnation as one of his teachings. Many famous names in the seminal tradition of Greek philosophy also held the belief – Heraclitus, Herodotus, Socrates, Plato. Many Roman classical scholars also held this belief. (Seneca, e.g.)
2) When Christianity became the religious power in the Roman Empire, the idea of reincarnation was suppressed – became a heresy. Doctrinally, one could expect this, for the idea of reincarnation is a contradiction of Christian dogma. The Christian scheme of salvation taught that all persons inherited Adam’s sin and consequently were condemned to death. Jesus, who was God, made the singular atoning sacrifice, thus enabling some, at least, to be saved. That atonement was the only way, nothing else made any difference.
Reincarnation asserts that through the law of Karma, one must make restitution, be punished in future lives for one’s misdeeds. In that sense, everyone dies an atoning death (not just Jesus). Also, one is rewarded for good works by achieving a higher state in a future reincarnation.
But although Christian zealots managed to suppress reincarnation ideas – destroying documents for example, the idea persisted. There were sporadic groups holding the idea. The Albigensians, who held the idea, were slaughtered in the 13th century.
The idea of reincarnation can be seen in the Christian legends of the Holy Grail. A persisting King Arthur legend carries the prophecy, “He shall come again full twice as fair to rule over his people.” Or as it has been poetically condensed, “The once and
future King.”
There are examples in more modern times. Some of the famous German philosophers and composers knew of such ancient ideas. Beethoven – so many of us are awed and mystified by his genius – was fond of copying mystical sentences from Eastern religious literature. Framed on his desk was this quotation, “I am that which is. I am all that was, that is and that shall be.”
3) Harold Cole, in his statement, referred to “slow but inevitable progress – the Creator an evolving Deity” and then said, “sounds Unitarian, doesn’t it?” Well, it was. In my opinion, one of the neglected areas in our Unitarian Universalist history is the strain of reincarnation thought, particularly om the 19th century.
The Transcendentalists – Unitarian ministers, literary figures, teachers – were an important element in our tradition. Emerson, through his study of the Hindu scriptures, was a leader, but there were many others. In the Universalist tradition, as a young man, I heard it argued that the then Universalist principle, “The Final Harmony of all souls with God” specifically referred to reincarnation, although at that time few agreed.
On October 1, 1840 (quoted, Head and Cranston, p. 309), the Rev. George Ripley, a Unitarian minister who founded Brook Farm, wrote, “There is a class of persons who desire a reform in the prevailing philosophy of the day. They are called Transcendentalists because they believe in an order of truth which transcends the sphere of the external senses. Their leading idea is the supremacy of mind over matter. Hence they maintain that the truth of religion does not depend on tradition, nor historical facts, but has an unerring witness in the soul.”
There are references to reincarnation in Emerson’s writings, but in his last published essay, “Nominist and Realist,” he affirmed it clearly: “It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again .... Nothing is dead; men (sic) feign themselves dead and endure funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out the window sound and well in some strange new disguise. Jesus is not dead; he is very well alive; nor John, nor Paul, nor Mahomet, nor Aristotle; at times we believe we have seen them all and could easily tell the names under which they go.”
James Freeman Clarke, author of the Unitarian “5 Points”, stated belief in the “progress of Mankind onward and upward forever.” Some of us in the 20th century have been skeptical – world wars, genocides, starvation, mass cruelties – is that progress? But Clarke was referring to the reincarnation process, writing at one point, “Evolution has a satisfactory meaning only when we admit the soul is developed and educated by passing through many bodies.” It is probable that “salvation by character” and “progress onward and upward forever” referred in some degree at least to reincarnation..
4) When one believes the implications of Karma and reincarnation, one can feel assurance that there is justice in the Cosmos or the “universal soul.” To the reincarnationist, we carry the misdeeds from previous existences; we improve our next life by the character and kindness we exhibit in a current existence. We learn by living and doing. There is no escaping the report card and its consequences.
5) However, I said at the beginning that there are difficulties. I must confront before embracing the idea of reincarnation. I have been, and am, a skeptical inquirer (long before there was a journal of that name.)
I have not dealt with the many cases where persons have discussed their previous incarnations. Yet there are critical inquiries that need answering. Therefore I do not use these anecdotes (many of them suspect) as evidence for reincarnation.
I feel the same as Maurice Maeterlinck, the Belgian poet and essayist, “Even though (reincarnation) is the religion of six hundred million people, the nearest to mysterious origins, the only one that is not odious, and the least absurd of all, it will have to do what the others have not done, to bring unimpeachable testimony and what it has given us hitherto is but the first shadow of a proof begun.”
Isaac Asimov, the scientist and prolific science-fiction writer, wrote, “human beings have the habit (a bad one perhaps, but an unavoidable one) of being human; which is to say that they believe in that which comforts them.” Then he goes on, and I quote him at length because he summarizes better than I can what represents my present attitude. If you think Asimov too blunt or even cruel, well, sorry about that:
“To take the greatest, most universal and most unavoidable, inconvenience, consider death. Tell people that death does not exist and they will believe you and sob with gratitude at the good news. Take a census and find out how many human beings believe in life after death, in heaven, in the doctrine of spiritualism, in the transmigration of souls. I am quite confident you will find a healthy majority, even an overwhelming one, in favor of side-stepping death by believing in its non-existence through one strategy or another.
“Yet as far as I know, there is not one piece of evidence ever advanced that would offer any hope that death is anything other than the permanent dissolution of the personality and that beyond it, as far as individual consciousness is concerned, there is nothing.
“If you want to argue the point, present the evidence. I must warn you that there are some arguments I won’t accept:
“I won’t accept any argument from authority (The Bible says so)
“I won’t accept any argument from internal conviction (I have faith it’s so)
“I won’t accept any argument from personal abuse (What are you, an atheist?)
“I won’t accept any argument from irrelevance (Do you think you have been put on this Earth to exist just for a moment of time?)
“Then why do people believe? Because they want to....”
So, that’s where I am. I am a feeling creature who attempts to think on these things. I feel a strong sense of the procession of injustices and cruelties in the human pageant. Should that not be righted? Should there not be a “certainty of the just retribution for sin” as the old Universalist principle had it? If so, what other answer than reincarnation where old debts must be paid; old credits reimbursed in the form of a better, more loving character, more in tune with a “Universal One” which could be at the heart of things?
But I am also a skeptical inquirer – Where’s the evidence?
John Wheeler is a world-renowned physicist whom I met some years back when he was a member of our Princeton, N.J. church. When discussing the phenomenon of the “Black Hole” which implies that the whole universe will collapse in on itself, he observed, “I am thinking of the oriental concepts of reincarnation and of cycle after cycle not only of man (sic), but of the universe itself. I would be the last person to know how to analyze this kind of idea in a sensible way.”
Then he went on, “No theory of physics that deals only with physics will ever explain physics. I believe that as we go on trying to understand the universe, we are at the same time trying to understand man (sic). Today I think we are beginning to suspect that man is not a tiny cog that really doesn't make much difference to the running of the huge machine but rather that there is a much more intimate tie between man and the universe than we have heretofore suspected.”
Could be! Maybe his “suspicion” is a reality, BUT. That’s where I must leave it. In any case, the predictable odds are that I will discover for myself before any of you do, what the truth is. But in the absence of any supernatural “fax” process, I wont be able to pass on the news.
Saturday afternoon, Sara, Kirk and I saw the movie “Dead Again.” The film was violent, gripping, and intense, with reincarnation the crux of the plot. Two star-crossed lovers experience agony and death in one life; then are reincarnated to endure mystery, dangers, and confusion, but with a happy ending. (Until the next time? On a Clear Day you can see sequels forever?)
Aware that I know of several persons close to me who believe in reincarnation (while I am yet unconvinced), I recalled a Sunday presentation in Lakeland some years ago. My talk followed one by Harold Cole, a well-informed member who believed in reincarnation. The film “Dead Again” led me to dig out my notes on that talk. The following is a rewrite but I did not seem to be able to shorten the text. So what follows is lengthy. So if you think the question trivial, skip it. But if, for you, it is “deja vu all over again” (Yogi Berra), then you might read on.
Have we lived before? Will we live again? In attempting this second part of a discussion on reincarnation, I was reminded of what Jacob Bronowski wrote in the ASCENT OF MAN: “There is no absolute knowledge. And those who claim, whether they are scientists or dogmatists, open the door to tragedy. All information is imperfect. We have to treat it with humility.” In that vein, I hope my observations will be properly modest.
With such an attitude, I comment on:
1) The surprising extent of the belief in reincarnation in all parts of the ancient world.
2) The suppression of the belief in reincarnation in the early Christian centuries.
3) The appeal of the idea of reincarnation to many well-known 19th century Unitarians and Universalists.
4) The powerful sense of justice that is inescapable when reincarnation is posited as an inexorable consequence.
5) But also I will point out some difficulties to be confronted in accepting reincarnation.
1) As Harold Cole pointed out, reincarnation is not just an Hindu and Buddhist idea, but also has roots in ancient Egypt and Greece, not to speak of the pre-historic nature religions of the Druids, Celts, and Teutonic tribes. One scholar (Cranston, p. 203) writes that reincarnation seems to have been a part of the Orphic mysteries before the time of Pythagoras, although that famous philosopher/mathematician advocated reincarnation as one of his teachings. Many famous names in the seminal tradition of Greek philosophy also held the belief – Heraclitus, Herodotus, Socrates, Plato. Many Roman classical scholars also held this belief. (Seneca, e.g.)
2) When Christianity became the religious power in the Roman Empire, the idea of reincarnation was suppressed – became a heresy. Doctrinally, one could expect this, for the idea of reincarnation is a contradiction of Christian dogma. The Christian scheme of salvation taught that all persons inherited Adam’s sin and consequently were condemned to death. Jesus, who was God, made the singular atoning sacrifice, thus enabling some, at least, to be saved. That atonement was the only way, nothing else made any difference.
Reincarnation asserts that through the law of Karma, one must make restitution, be punished in future lives for one’s misdeeds. In that sense, everyone dies an atoning death (not just Jesus). Also, one is rewarded for good works by achieving a higher state in a future reincarnation.
But although Christian zealots managed to suppress reincarnation ideas – destroying documents for example, the idea persisted. There were sporadic groups holding the idea. The Albigensians, who held the idea, were slaughtered in the 13th century.
The idea of reincarnation can be seen in the Christian legends of the Holy Grail. A persisting King Arthur legend carries the prophecy, “He shall come again full twice as fair to rule over his people.” Or as it has been poetically condensed, “The once and
future King.”
There are examples in more modern times. Some of the famous German philosophers and composers knew of such ancient ideas. Beethoven – so many of us are awed and mystified by his genius – was fond of copying mystical sentences from Eastern religious literature. Framed on his desk was this quotation, “I am that which is. I am all that was, that is and that shall be.”
3) Harold Cole, in his statement, referred to “slow but inevitable progress – the Creator an evolving Deity” and then said, “sounds Unitarian, doesn’t it?” Well, it was. In my opinion, one of the neglected areas in our Unitarian Universalist history is the strain of reincarnation thought, particularly om the 19th century.
The Transcendentalists – Unitarian ministers, literary figures, teachers – were an important element in our tradition. Emerson, through his study of the Hindu scriptures, was a leader, but there were many others. In the Universalist tradition, as a young man, I heard it argued that the then Universalist principle, “The Final Harmony of all souls with God” specifically referred to reincarnation, although at that time few agreed.
On October 1, 1840 (quoted, Head and Cranston, p. 309), the Rev. George Ripley, a Unitarian minister who founded Brook Farm, wrote, “There is a class of persons who desire a reform in the prevailing philosophy of the day. They are called Transcendentalists because they believe in an order of truth which transcends the sphere of the external senses. Their leading idea is the supremacy of mind over matter. Hence they maintain that the truth of religion does not depend on tradition, nor historical facts, but has an unerring witness in the soul.”
There are references to reincarnation in Emerson’s writings, but in his last published essay, “Nominist and Realist,” he affirmed it clearly: “It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again .... Nothing is dead; men (sic) feign themselves dead and endure funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out the window sound and well in some strange new disguise. Jesus is not dead; he is very well alive; nor John, nor Paul, nor Mahomet, nor Aristotle; at times we believe we have seen them all and could easily tell the names under which they go.”
James Freeman Clarke, author of the Unitarian “5 Points”, stated belief in the “progress of Mankind onward and upward forever.” Some of us in the 20th century have been skeptical – world wars, genocides, starvation, mass cruelties – is that progress? But Clarke was referring to the reincarnation process, writing at one point, “Evolution has a satisfactory meaning only when we admit the soul is developed and educated by passing through many bodies.” It is probable that “salvation by character” and “progress onward and upward forever” referred in some degree at least to reincarnation..
4) When one believes the implications of Karma and reincarnation, one can feel assurance that there is justice in the Cosmos or the “universal soul.” To the reincarnationist, we carry the misdeeds from previous existences; we improve our next life by the character and kindness we exhibit in a current existence. We learn by living and doing. There is no escaping the report card and its consequences.
5) However, I said at the beginning that there are difficulties. I must confront before embracing the idea of reincarnation. I have been, and am, a skeptical inquirer (long before there was a journal of that name.)
I have not dealt with the many cases where persons have discussed their previous incarnations. Yet there are critical inquiries that need answering. Therefore I do not use these anecdotes (many of them suspect) as evidence for reincarnation.
I feel the same as Maurice Maeterlinck, the Belgian poet and essayist, “Even though (reincarnation) is the religion of six hundred million people, the nearest to mysterious origins, the only one that is not odious, and the least absurd of all, it will have to do what the others have not done, to bring unimpeachable testimony and what it has given us hitherto is but the first shadow of a proof begun.”
Isaac Asimov, the scientist and prolific science-fiction writer, wrote, “human beings have the habit (a bad one perhaps, but an unavoidable one) of being human; which is to say that they believe in that which comforts them.” Then he goes on, and I quote him at length because he summarizes better than I can what represents my present attitude. If you think Asimov too blunt or even cruel, well, sorry about that:
“To take the greatest, most universal and most unavoidable, inconvenience, consider death. Tell people that death does not exist and they will believe you and sob with gratitude at the good news. Take a census and find out how many human beings believe in life after death, in heaven, in the doctrine of spiritualism, in the transmigration of souls. I am quite confident you will find a healthy majority, even an overwhelming one, in favor of side-stepping death by believing in its non-existence through one strategy or another.
“Yet as far as I know, there is not one piece of evidence ever advanced that would offer any hope that death is anything other than the permanent dissolution of the personality and that beyond it, as far as individual consciousness is concerned, there is nothing.
“If you want to argue the point, present the evidence. I must warn you that there are some arguments I won’t accept:
“I won’t accept any argument from authority (The Bible says so)
“I won’t accept any argument from internal conviction (I have faith it’s so)
“I won’t accept any argument from personal abuse (What are you, an atheist?)
“I won’t accept any argument from irrelevance (Do you think you have been put on this Earth to exist just for a moment of time?)
“Then why do people believe? Because they want to....”
So, that’s where I am. I am a feeling creature who attempts to think on these things. I feel a strong sense of the procession of injustices and cruelties in the human pageant. Should that not be righted? Should there not be a “certainty of the just retribution for sin” as the old Universalist principle had it? If so, what other answer than reincarnation where old debts must be paid; old credits reimbursed in the form of a better, more loving character, more in tune with a “Universal One” which could be at the heart of things?
But I am also a skeptical inquirer – Where’s the evidence?
John Wheeler is a world-renowned physicist whom I met some years back when he was a member of our Princeton, N.J. church. When discussing the phenomenon of the “Black Hole” which implies that the whole universe will collapse in on itself, he observed, “I am thinking of the oriental concepts of reincarnation and of cycle after cycle not only of man (sic), but of the universe itself. I would be the last person to know how to analyze this kind of idea in a sensible way.”
Then he went on, “No theory of physics that deals only with physics will ever explain physics. I believe that as we go on trying to understand the universe, we are at the same time trying to understand man (sic). Today I think we are beginning to suspect that man is not a tiny cog that really doesn't make much difference to the running of the huge machine but rather that there is a much more intimate tie between man and the universe than we have heretofore suspected.”
Could be! Maybe his “suspicion” is a reality, BUT. That’s where I must leave it. In any case, the predictable odds are that I will discover for myself before any of you do, what the truth is. But in the absence of any supernatural “fax” process, I wont be able to pass on the news.
A Noble Lie Is Still A Lie
August 18, 1991
[Attached: clipping from AP article by George W. Cornell, published in The Ledger, 7/20/1991, with highlighted quote from Loyal D. Rue, professor of religion and philosophy at Luther College: “... Rue suggests that we start all over, and create a new myth – a “noble lie” that squares with what is known scientifically, something that is convincing though it may not be factual.”]
Professor Rue has stated “noble” reasons for creating a manipulative lie. Perhaps he is correct in believing that the human creature cannot carry the burden of truth. I dissent. For much of my lifetime, a prime principle of Unitarian Universalism has been the “authority of truth, known or to be known.”
My disagreement with Mr. Rue has several roots:
First, he seems naïve about the efficacy of the old religious myths. In a world, where, in his words, “science has eroded the plausibility of the Judeo-Christian myths ...”, he suggests “a new myth, a noble lie ....” But the old hallowed myths never did inspire people to “compel us beyond self-interest, beyond ego, beyond family, nation, race... that will deceive us into the view that our moral discourse must serve the interests not only of themselves and each other, but those of the earth as well.” Take any century you choose: you will not discover those splendid universal goals dominating the actions of any power group, kingdom, nation or authoritarian religion, even though the Judeo-Christian myths were professed and, presumably, believed. The “noble” lie actually proposes a useful lie, but it is a pragmatic untruth. Pragmatism asks, “does it work?” That criterion cannot be demonstrated in history. Believing the myths did not deter war, cruelty, persecution, greed, lust for power and a host of other evils.
Second, the search for truth is not the failure that Mr. Rue implies. He seems to like a game of “Lies and Consequences” - I still choose “Truth and Consequences.” One admires a proclamation of the positive, but not when it is an unreal opiate. Some years ago, Bishop John A. T. Robinson wrote, “As one goes on, it is the things one doesn’t believe which are as liberating as the things one does.” (HONEST TO GOD)
Thus, Mr. Rue is too pessimistic about our human nature when he believes that without “integration of cosmology and morality ... people will deny fixed standards and do whatever they choose, splintering society.” Confronting and accepting what seems to be a morally neutral Cosmos does not mean we are “splintered.” In the face of the mammoth mystery, the Universe, we humans have freedom and power if we have the courage to think, speak, decide, in terms of our hopes and ideals for all people of the Earth. Maurice Maeterlink was on point, “to the sage the truth can never be bitter. He finds more pleasure in the attempt to understand that which is, than in the attempt to believe that which he desires. There is no gain in shutting out the world, Though it be a wall of righteousness.” (Quoted, Ernest Hocking, THE MEANING OF GOD IN HUMAN EXPERIENCE).
Then, too, I have much doubt that a satisfactory mythology can be whomped up just because many feel we cannot be sustained without it. It seems apparent that mythologies need ages to emerge and artists and scholars to interpret, frequently differing interpretations. A new mythology cannot be manufactured as readily as 1992 model autos replace the 1991s. I fear that a contrived mythology would be a hinge to close the door of reality.
What then is the prospect for men and women who see no charm in a “noble lie”? We might print our T-Shirts with a line from Shakespeare, “Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust”?
There are many foxes attacking the tender vines of our self-trust, our freedom, our human dignity. We must feel these values as more important to live by than a manufactured myth, however comfortable or convenient. W. H. Auden grasped that need in the last verse of his poem, “In Memory of W. B. Yeats”:
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
[Attached: clipping from AP article by George W. Cornell, published in The Ledger, 7/20/1991, with highlighted quote from Loyal D. Rue, professor of religion and philosophy at Luther College: “... Rue suggests that we start all over, and create a new myth – a “noble lie” that squares with what is known scientifically, something that is convincing though it may not be factual.”]
Professor Rue has stated “noble” reasons for creating a manipulative lie. Perhaps he is correct in believing that the human creature cannot carry the burden of truth. I dissent. For much of my lifetime, a prime principle of Unitarian Universalism has been the “authority of truth, known or to be known.”
My disagreement with Mr. Rue has several roots:
First, he seems naïve about the efficacy of the old religious myths. In a world, where, in his words, “science has eroded the plausibility of the Judeo-Christian myths ...”, he suggests “a new myth, a noble lie ....” But the old hallowed myths never did inspire people to “compel us beyond self-interest, beyond ego, beyond family, nation, race... that will deceive us into the view that our moral discourse must serve the interests not only of themselves and each other, but those of the earth as well.” Take any century you choose: you will not discover those splendid universal goals dominating the actions of any power group, kingdom, nation or authoritarian religion, even though the Judeo-Christian myths were professed and, presumably, believed. The “noble” lie actually proposes a useful lie, but it is a pragmatic untruth. Pragmatism asks, “does it work?” That criterion cannot be demonstrated in history. Believing the myths did not deter war, cruelty, persecution, greed, lust for power and a host of other evils.
Second, the search for truth is not the failure that Mr. Rue implies. He seems to like a game of “Lies and Consequences” - I still choose “Truth and Consequences.” One admires a proclamation of the positive, but not when it is an unreal opiate. Some years ago, Bishop John A. T. Robinson wrote, “As one goes on, it is the things one doesn’t believe which are as liberating as the things one does.” (HONEST TO GOD)
Thus, Mr. Rue is too pessimistic about our human nature when he believes that without “integration of cosmology and morality ... people will deny fixed standards and do whatever they choose, splintering society.” Confronting and accepting what seems to be a morally neutral Cosmos does not mean we are “splintered.” In the face of the mammoth mystery, the Universe, we humans have freedom and power if we have the courage to think, speak, decide, in terms of our hopes and ideals for all people of the Earth. Maurice Maeterlink was on point, “to the sage the truth can never be bitter. He finds more pleasure in the attempt to understand that which is, than in the attempt to believe that which he desires. There is no gain in shutting out the world, Though it be a wall of righteousness.” (Quoted, Ernest Hocking, THE MEANING OF GOD IN HUMAN EXPERIENCE).
Then, too, I have much doubt that a satisfactory mythology can be whomped up just because many feel we cannot be sustained without it. It seems apparent that mythologies need ages to emerge and artists and scholars to interpret, frequently differing interpretations. A new mythology cannot be manufactured as readily as 1992 model autos replace the 1991s. I fear that a contrived mythology would be a hinge to close the door of reality.
What then is the prospect for men and women who see no charm in a “noble lie”? We might print our T-Shirts with a line from Shakespeare, “Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust”?
There are many foxes attacking the tender vines of our self-trust, our freedom, our human dignity. We must feel these values as more important to live by than a manufactured myth, however comfortable or convenient. W. H. Auden grasped that need in the last verse of his poem, “In Memory of W. B. Yeats”:
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Confronting The Religious Deficit
July 17, 1991
Dealing with the religious deficit is a more difficult task than our Government has in its futile gestures toward balancing the Federal dollar deficit. By “religious deficit” I mean the vast gap that exists for almost everyone between what we say religion is and how those sayings substantially affect our behavior in the social order. There are exceptions, of course. In the 20th century one can point to such persons as Gandhi, Schweitzer, Dorothy Day, the Berrigan brothers, Mother Teresa, James Reeb, Martin Luther King, Jr., others, who acted out their religious convictions without counting the cost. But most of us compromise in larger or smaller measures to protect our security, comfort, family, reputation, or status.
Two literary allusions stimulated these comments: E. M. Forster, in his fine novel, A PASSAGE TO INDIA, comments about Ronny, the supercilious, shallow, conforming civil servant, “Ronny approved of religion as long as it endorsed the National Anthem, but he objected when it attempted to influence his life.”
Arthur Koestler, a contributor to THE GOD THAT FAILED, the essays of prominent literary persons who had been members of the Communist Party, only to become thoroughly disillusioned, commented, “Faith is a wondrous thing; it is not only capable of moving mountains, but also making you believe that a herring is a race horse.”
These quotations represent extremes, but in some degree they touch base for many people, who would of course deny any application to them. The Forster quotation would be labeled a slander; Koestler’s comment as religiously irreverent.
Both of these observations about religion omit any claim that what one believes demands ethical behavior in the social interaction of family, friends, nature, state, nation, world. Any ethical imperative is absent.
Consider the teachings of Jesus. (One could choose the prophets of other great world religions, but Jesus is the pre-dominant example in our part of the world.) “The Sermon on the Mount” (Matthew, chapters 5-7) was probably not a once-delivered sermon, but a later gathering of teachings that would be shaking to most Christians if they were to take Jesus’ admonitions seriously. If you are not averse to being upset, read carefully five through seven of Matthew with the question in your mind, “if this ethic was a mainstream, what would happen in the world?” Just a few citations that I hope will whet your mind to read more and reflect:
“Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall see God.” (5/9) But is not our prevailing attitude, “Hooray for the warmakers (when they win)?” Take any of the last 16 centuries, Christians have killed more Christians than any others. (Not that Christians have spared members of other religions.)
“Again you have heard that it was said to men of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ But I say unto you, do not swear at all, either to heaven for it is the throne of God, or by the earth for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair black or white. Let what you say be simply ‘yes’ or ‘no’; anything more comes from the devil.’ (5-33/34) But we require that you swear an oath when testifying in court; on his inauguration, a President must swear an oath; a notary requires an oath before affixing seal and signature; there are many examples. I don’t know whether Jesus would be amused or discouraged.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say unto you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” (5:43). How about that! Love your enemies! One main patriotic stimulus is the propagation of hate in war. Hate the Iraqis and Hussein; hate the Communists; hate the North Vietnamese; hate the Germans. Love your enemies? That’s really subversive and will get the F.B.I. on your case.
“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they will have their reward. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (6-5/6). But verbal prayer in the public schools seems for many to be the answer to all kinds of individual and social evils. Congress opens with prayer; the TV evangelists broadcast prayers to millions of their followers. How often do they quote Jesus that one should pray in secret?
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (7-19/21).
Treasures on earth? That’s the principal message of the stock exchanges, retirement plans, savings accounts, real estate, nest-eggs, books, antique collections – what have you! There are very few who do not want to accumulate treasures on earth. I have wanted to, even though my accumulation is minimal. We want security; we dread going broke.
No wonder the crowds were astonished (6-28); [they] would be even more astonished today. Rather than follow such difficult ways, it is much easier to recite a creed, celebrate a rite, obey a dogma, have a discussion group or just chat about the pity of it all. The vast majority has always taken the smoother road. After all, we do respond to our genes, upbringing, national ethos, desire not to make waves, like not to be named among the trouble-makers. The ethical code of Jesus has been and still is an embarrassment.
In reviewing this radical ethic, I hope I am not hypocritical. I do not subscribe to the heaven and hell Jesus emphasized. His “Father God”, for me, is at best a metaphor of hope amid the oceanic mystery of conscious existence. G.K. Chesterton, in contrast to the Arthur Koestler statement quoted at the beginning, wrote, (and this is a paraphrase): when one stops believing in God, the difficulty is not that one believes in nothing but that one will believe anything. I believe Chesterton wrong when I reflect on the weird beliefs, shameful behavior and arrogant prejudice of many who assert belief in God. The same would apply to some non-believers.
The radical teachings of Jesus are an impossible ethic. “To dream the impossible dream” was the theme song of the musical “Man of LaMancha.” One could interpret the hero as an idealistic, silly, tragic clown. Some of Rouault’s famous paintings of clowns have been interpreted as Christ figures.
But don’t you think, if in our better moments, there was determination to live in harmony with even one of these disturbing teachings, anyone of us might become a more happy (“blessed”) and decent person? There is also a LIVE-ly song, “Be a clown, be a clown, be a clown.”
Dealing with the religious deficit is a more difficult task than our Government has in its futile gestures toward balancing the Federal dollar deficit. By “religious deficit” I mean the vast gap that exists for almost everyone between what we say religion is and how those sayings substantially affect our behavior in the social order. There are exceptions, of course. In the 20th century one can point to such persons as Gandhi, Schweitzer, Dorothy Day, the Berrigan brothers, Mother Teresa, James Reeb, Martin Luther King, Jr., others, who acted out their religious convictions without counting the cost. But most of us compromise in larger or smaller measures to protect our security, comfort, family, reputation, or status.
Two literary allusions stimulated these comments: E. M. Forster, in his fine novel, A PASSAGE TO INDIA, comments about Ronny, the supercilious, shallow, conforming civil servant, “Ronny approved of religion as long as it endorsed the National Anthem, but he objected when it attempted to influence his life.”
Arthur Koestler, a contributor to THE GOD THAT FAILED, the essays of prominent literary persons who had been members of the Communist Party, only to become thoroughly disillusioned, commented, “Faith is a wondrous thing; it is not only capable of moving mountains, but also making you believe that a herring is a race horse.”
These quotations represent extremes, but in some degree they touch base for many people, who would of course deny any application to them. The Forster quotation would be labeled a slander; Koestler’s comment as religiously irreverent.
Both of these observations about religion omit any claim that what one believes demands ethical behavior in the social interaction of family, friends, nature, state, nation, world. Any ethical imperative is absent.
Consider the teachings of Jesus. (One could choose the prophets of other great world religions, but Jesus is the pre-dominant example in our part of the world.) “The Sermon on the Mount” (Matthew, chapters 5-7) was probably not a once-delivered sermon, but a later gathering of teachings that would be shaking to most Christians if they were to take Jesus’ admonitions seriously. If you are not averse to being upset, read carefully five through seven of Matthew with the question in your mind, “if this ethic was a mainstream, what would happen in the world?” Just a few citations that I hope will whet your mind to read more and reflect:
“Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall see God.” (5/9) But is not our prevailing attitude, “Hooray for the warmakers (when they win)?” Take any of the last 16 centuries, Christians have killed more Christians than any others. (Not that Christians have spared members of other religions.)
“Again you have heard that it was said to men of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ But I say unto you, do not swear at all, either to heaven for it is the throne of God, or by the earth for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair black or white. Let what you say be simply ‘yes’ or ‘no’; anything more comes from the devil.’ (5-33/34) But we require that you swear an oath when testifying in court; on his inauguration, a President must swear an oath; a notary requires an oath before affixing seal and signature; there are many examples. I don’t know whether Jesus would be amused or discouraged.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say unto you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” (5:43). How about that! Love your enemies! One main patriotic stimulus is the propagation of hate in war. Hate the Iraqis and Hussein; hate the Communists; hate the North Vietnamese; hate the Germans. Love your enemies? That’s really subversive and will get the F.B.I. on your case.
“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they will have their reward. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (6-5/6). But verbal prayer in the public schools seems for many to be the answer to all kinds of individual and social evils. Congress opens with prayer; the TV evangelists broadcast prayers to millions of their followers. How often do they quote Jesus that one should pray in secret?
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (7-19/21).
Treasures on earth? That’s the principal message of the stock exchanges, retirement plans, savings accounts, real estate, nest-eggs, books, antique collections – what have you! There are very few who do not want to accumulate treasures on earth. I have wanted to, even though my accumulation is minimal. We want security; we dread going broke.
No wonder the crowds were astonished (6-28); [they] would be even more astonished today. Rather than follow such difficult ways, it is much easier to recite a creed, celebrate a rite, obey a dogma, have a discussion group or just chat about the pity of it all. The vast majority has always taken the smoother road. After all, we do respond to our genes, upbringing, national ethos, desire not to make waves, like not to be named among the trouble-makers. The ethical code of Jesus has been and still is an embarrassment.
In reviewing this radical ethic, I hope I am not hypocritical. I do not subscribe to the heaven and hell Jesus emphasized. His “Father God”, for me, is at best a metaphor of hope amid the oceanic mystery of conscious existence. G.K. Chesterton, in contrast to the Arthur Koestler statement quoted at the beginning, wrote, (and this is a paraphrase): when one stops believing in God, the difficulty is not that one believes in nothing but that one will believe anything. I believe Chesterton wrong when I reflect on the weird beliefs, shameful behavior and arrogant prejudice of many who assert belief in God. The same would apply to some non-believers.
The radical teachings of Jesus are an impossible ethic. “To dream the impossible dream” was the theme song of the musical “Man of LaMancha.” One could interpret the hero as an idealistic, silly, tragic clown. Some of Rouault’s famous paintings of clowns have been interpreted as Christ figures.
But don’t you think, if in our better moments, there was determination to live in harmony with even one of these disturbing teachings, anyone of us might become a more happy (“blessed”) and decent person? There is also a LIVE-ly song, “Be a clown, be a clown, be a clown.”
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
And, The Winner Is ...
May 30, 1991
In many religious communities, conversion is the acme of religious experience. Such is the witness of many thousands in times past and times present. Although never having this presumably supreme experience, I accept the testimony of those whose fervent conviction is that for them the experience is ineffable.
Religious conversion is an experience which profoundly changes the life of the convert. A different religion may be embraced, or there is a change from one belief or doctrine to another. Almost always for the true convert, there is an alteration in moral disposition and a mental shift in the way one understands the world. The convert believes, too, that a Divine Power was the catalyst in the radical change.
Paul represents the revered example of the Christian convert. Paul had persecuted the followers of Jesus. Paul had participated in, or observed with approval, the stoning to death of the martyr, Stephen. Then, on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced a stunning, blinding vision of Christ. From then on, year after year to the day of his martyrdom, he was the Apostle Paul, bringing the Christian faith to the Roman world. His missionary travels, his letters and influence sparked a world-wide Christian movement. The theology he constructed ABOUT Jesus Christ became more formative than the teachings OF Jesus. The intricate Christian theologies of Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, countless others, can be fairly described as commentaries, footnotes and elaborations on the thought and convictions of Paul the Apostle.
Christianity won the Roman world. Nearly everyone likes to identify with the winner. But many times the identification seems more important than the experience.
Consider Constantine, “The Great,” another famous convert and a more powerful influence than Paul in transforming a Roman Empire to a Christian World. Constantine supported and extended the Edict of Toleration issued by Galerius in 311 (along with Constantine and Licinius). Constantine won an important victory at the battle of the Milvian Bridge, and later testified that he had a vision of the Cross which brought him victory.
Tolerance for other faiths continued under Constantine, but he was unquestionably an adherent of the Christian faith and granted special privileges to Christians. He subsidized Christian churches, gave special privileges to Christian priests, and housed the Bishop of Rome in the Lateran Palace. Constantine presided at the Council of Nicea (325) and supervised decisions of that and other Christian councils.
Constantine was a prudential convert. One need not question his sincerity to recognize his political acumen. He had observed the growing number of Christians, particularly among the lower and middle classes. Their growth was due not only to the appeal of the Savior they worshiped, but also to the bonds welded by their unselfish charities, their wide-spread mutual assistance groups, and their more exemplary ways of living.
Constantine was careful, too, in postponing Christian baptism until his death-bed. In Christian theology, baptism blotted out sins, and there were some sins he wanted to continue; [he] did not want the burden of sinning after baptism.
(A stray doctrinal question on this matter – why did Jesus undergo baptism by John the Baptist in the river Jordan? If Jesus was born free from Adam’s sin, why baptize him to wash away that which did not exist? I’m sure there are ponderous theological explanations, but is there a simple answer? I happen to believe that Jesus was not a sinless sin-bearer for all humankind, but a radical Jewish prophet preaching the Kingdom of God.)
Anyway/ Christianity became a winner. People identify with winners. Historian/biographer, Emil Ludwig (THE MEDITERRANEAN, p.226), relates the fascinating anecdote of Mamas, a Christian who owned a race-horse. When a Roman pagan entered his horse against the horse of Marnas, the Christian’s horse won, “whereupon many of the crowd accepted baptism.” But I guess that horseplayers have always entertained strange hunches in order to better their odds.
If you have a taste for religious history, you may remember Henry of Navarre (1553-1610). Against a background of religious persecution in France – the most notorious event being the slaughter of thousands of Huguenots in 1572 – Henry, a Protestant (or Reformed) became King of France on the condition that he convert to Roman Catholicism. Henry is reputed to have said, “Paris is worth a Mass.” Winning the crown was more important to Henry than losing his Protestant identity.
If one can reasonably say King Henry of Navarre was a religious hypocrite, one must also remember that he brought religious peace to a troubled land. In 1598, he issued the Edict of Nantes which granted toleration, with some limitations, to Protestants. The Edict also contained a secret provision forbidding that marriages between priests and nuns be disturbed. That Edict of toleration continued for nearly one hundred years until revoked by Louis XIV.
In our day, we are magnetized by winners and identify with them. Way back when I was growing up, there were anecdotes about some man, otherwise inconspicuous, who had once met the famous heavyweight boxing champion, John L. Sullivan, “The Boston Strong Boy.” Thereafter, the fan, every time he was introduced to someone, would always say, “Shake the hand that shook the hand of John L. Sullivan.” Many persons prize identifying with the famous winners even when the association is vague or trivial. In these early weeks of the 1991 baseball season, The Atlanta Braves are playing better baseball than for years. Guess what – attendance at home games has increased substantially. [CJW note, October 1991: Atlanta won the division and attendance was the most ever in the team’s 26 years in Atlanta]
A political manager treasures and publicizes a poll showing his candidate ahead. Why? Because there are those voters whose interest, knowledge, and political convictions may be minimal, but want to vote for the winner, even when the ballot is secret. The Winners’ Circle is a gratifying place to be.
For many, perhaps most, choosing one's religious affiliation or converting to another religion is an exalting and life-changing experience. No one may justly criticize such converts. But there have been a few times when a man, usually a professional, said candidly that while he agreed with the principles and practices of Unitarian Universalism, he was becoming a member of a church of another denomination. I was told that because another congregation was much larger or more select in socio-economic stratification, he could “generate more business.” I suppose that’s a variety of the Henry of Navarre syndrome. Whether such self-serving motivation is wide-spread, I have no idea. Usually not something anyone would admit.
I do not recall that I was saddened or bitter because of such encounters. In the many definitions of religion, there is always, explicitly or implicitly, principles that are linked to what a person values most (which may not always be the professed creed). While in office, President Calvin Coolidge said, “the business of America is business.” Could that be denied then or now? Metropolitan newspapers have a daily “Business” section with three or four pages of FREE listings of stock quotations, bond markets, foreign exchange, mutual funds, etc. On Saturday only, there is a “Religion” section where in my paper at least, much of the space is taken by PAID ads of various churches. This observation is not criticize the newspapers but rather an act of recognition as to what prevails in our culture. If Calvin Coolidge was paraphrased, “the religion of America is business,” would it be unduly cynical? The prophet, Jesus, said plainly, “where your treasure is there will be your heart also.” However, I am not unmindful that my minister’s salary was paid by members from their wages, salaries, profits, dividends. No matter how one exercises, one cannot pole vault out of the system. All are involved in its failings as well as virtues.
Fortunately for our present and future, there are some balancing ideas and motives. For some there are prevailing ideas even when it means exclusion from the Winners’ Circle. As a life-long Red Sox fan, I know that year after year after year there is strong, faithful attendance at Fenway Park, that architectural treasure of ball parks. Of course we moan and groan when, sooner or later in the season, the Bosox trip and fall. Our hopes are dashed but loyalty persists (amidst our grumbling).
In spite of the downsides in religious institutions to which I have referred, they still hold fast to principles which can sustain us. Sidney Alexander, the learned historian of the Italian Renaissance, wrote (LIONS AND FOXES, p.20) “The importance of ideas is determined not in terms of how many people hold them, understand them, or exercise them, but by the quality of the ideas.”
Churches, synagogues, religious fellowships have different myths, creeds, rituals, theologies, unlike ways of church governance, and have argued for millenia about where lies the seat of authority in religion. The history of religions, any and all of them, is not a seamless garment. There has been cruelty as well as kindness, bigotry as well as tolerance, tyranny as well as freedom, death-dealing as well as life-saving, much hate and much love.
Nevertheless, the Winners’ Circle may prevail – whether there are ten or a thousand gathered together – when among some at least, the religious meeting generates wholeness (holiness) as well as business, creates comrades as well as clients, acquires sensitivity as well as sales, and develops sustaining convictions as well as pleasant profits. That is a Winners’ Circle of enduring worth, perhaps unrecognized in our culture of consumers.
In many religious communities, conversion is the acme of religious experience. Such is the witness of many thousands in times past and times present. Although never having this presumably supreme experience, I accept the testimony of those whose fervent conviction is that for them the experience is ineffable.
Religious conversion is an experience which profoundly changes the life of the convert. A different religion may be embraced, or there is a change from one belief or doctrine to another. Almost always for the true convert, there is an alteration in moral disposition and a mental shift in the way one understands the world. The convert believes, too, that a Divine Power was the catalyst in the radical change.
Paul represents the revered example of the Christian convert. Paul had persecuted the followers of Jesus. Paul had participated in, or observed with approval, the stoning to death of the martyr, Stephen. Then, on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced a stunning, blinding vision of Christ. From then on, year after year to the day of his martyrdom, he was the Apostle Paul, bringing the Christian faith to the Roman world. His missionary travels, his letters and influence sparked a world-wide Christian movement. The theology he constructed ABOUT Jesus Christ became more formative than the teachings OF Jesus. The intricate Christian theologies of Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, countless others, can be fairly described as commentaries, footnotes and elaborations on the thought and convictions of Paul the Apostle.
Christianity won the Roman world. Nearly everyone likes to identify with the winner. But many times the identification seems more important than the experience.
Consider Constantine, “The Great,” another famous convert and a more powerful influence than Paul in transforming a Roman Empire to a Christian World. Constantine supported and extended the Edict of Toleration issued by Galerius in 311 (along with Constantine and Licinius). Constantine won an important victory at the battle of the Milvian Bridge, and later testified that he had a vision of the Cross which brought him victory.
Tolerance for other faiths continued under Constantine, but he was unquestionably an adherent of the Christian faith and granted special privileges to Christians. He subsidized Christian churches, gave special privileges to Christian priests, and housed the Bishop of Rome in the Lateran Palace. Constantine presided at the Council of Nicea (325) and supervised decisions of that and other Christian councils.
Constantine was a prudential convert. One need not question his sincerity to recognize his political acumen. He had observed the growing number of Christians, particularly among the lower and middle classes. Their growth was due not only to the appeal of the Savior they worshiped, but also to the bonds welded by their unselfish charities, their wide-spread mutual assistance groups, and their more exemplary ways of living.
Constantine was careful, too, in postponing Christian baptism until his death-bed. In Christian theology, baptism blotted out sins, and there were some sins he wanted to continue; [he] did not want the burden of sinning after baptism.
(A stray doctrinal question on this matter – why did Jesus undergo baptism by John the Baptist in the river Jordan? If Jesus was born free from Adam’s sin, why baptize him to wash away that which did not exist? I’m sure there are ponderous theological explanations, but is there a simple answer? I happen to believe that Jesus was not a sinless sin-bearer for all humankind, but a radical Jewish prophet preaching the Kingdom of God.)
Anyway/ Christianity became a winner. People identify with winners. Historian/biographer, Emil Ludwig (THE MEDITERRANEAN, p.226), relates the fascinating anecdote of Mamas, a Christian who owned a race-horse. When a Roman pagan entered his horse against the horse of Marnas, the Christian’s horse won, “whereupon many of the crowd accepted baptism.” But I guess that horseplayers have always entertained strange hunches in order to better their odds.
If you have a taste for religious history, you may remember Henry of Navarre (1553-1610). Against a background of religious persecution in France – the most notorious event being the slaughter of thousands of Huguenots in 1572 – Henry, a Protestant (or Reformed) became King of France on the condition that he convert to Roman Catholicism. Henry is reputed to have said, “Paris is worth a Mass.” Winning the crown was more important to Henry than losing his Protestant identity.
If one can reasonably say King Henry of Navarre was a religious hypocrite, one must also remember that he brought religious peace to a troubled land. In 1598, he issued the Edict of Nantes which granted toleration, with some limitations, to Protestants. The Edict also contained a secret provision forbidding that marriages between priests and nuns be disturbed. That Edict of toleration continued for nearly one hundred years until revoked by Louis XIV.
In our day, we are magnetized by winners and identify with them. Way back when I was growing up, there were anecdotes about some man, otherwise inconspicuous, who had once met the famous heavyweight boxing champion, John L. Sullivan, “The Boston Strong Boy.” Thereafter, the fan, every time he was introduced to someone, would always say, “Shake the hand that shook the hand of John L. Sullivan.” Many persons prize identifying with the famous winners even when the association is vague or trivial. In these early weeks of the 1991 baseball season, The Atlanta Braves are playing better baseball than for years. Guess what – attendance at home games has increased substantially. [CJW note, October 1991: Atlanta won the division and attendance was the most ever in the team’s 26 years in Atlanta]
A political manager treasures and publicizes a poll showing his candidate ahead. Why? Because there are those voters whose interest, knowledge, and political convictions may be minimal, but want to vote for the winner, even when the ballot is secret. The Winners’ Circle is a gratifying place to be.
For many, perhaps most, choosing one's religious affiliation or converting to another religion is an exalting and life-changing experience. No one may justly criticize such converts. But there have been a few times when a man, usually a professional, said candidly that while he agreed with the principles and practices of Unitarian Universalism, he was becoming a member of a church of another denomination. I was told that because another congregation was much larger or more select in socio-economic stratification, he could “generate more business.” I suppose that’s a variety of the Henry of Navarre syndrome. Whether such self-serving motivation is wide-spread, I have no idea. Usually not something anyone would admit.
I do not recall that I was saddened or bitter because of such encounters. In the many definitions of religion, there is always, explicitly or implicitly, principles that are linked to what a person values most (which may not always be the professed creed). While in office, President Calvin Coolidge said, “the business of America is business.” Could that be denied then or now? Metropolitan newspapers have a daily “Business” section with three or four pages of FREE listings of stock quotations, bond markets, foreign exchange, mutual funds, etc. On Saturday only, there is a “Religion” section where in my paper at least, much of the space is taken by PAID ads of various churches. This observation is not criticize the newspapers but rather an act of recognition as to what prevails in our culture. If Calvin Coolidge was paraphrased, “the religion of America is business,” would it be unduly cynical? The prophet, Jesus, said plainly, “where your treasure is there will be your heart also.” However, I am not unmindful that my minister’s salary was paid by members from their wages, salaries, profits, dividends. No matter how one exercises, one cannot pole vault out of the system. All are involved in its failings as well as virtues.
Fortunately for our present and future, there are some balancing ideas and motives. For some there are prevailing ideas even when it means exclusion from the Winners’ Circle. As a life-long Red Sox fan, I know that year after year after year there is strong, faithful attendance at Fenway Park, that architectural treasure of ball parks. Of course we moan and groan when, sooner or later in the season, the Bosox trip and fall. Our hopes are dashed but loyalty persists (amidst our grumbling).
In spite of the downsides in religious institutions to which I have referred, they still hold fast to principles which can sustain us. Sidney Alexander, the learned historian of the Italian Renaissance, wrote (LIONS AND FOXES, p.20) “The importance of ideas is determined not in terms of how many people hold them, understand them, or exercise them, but by the quality of the ideas.”
Churches, synagogues, religious fellowships have different myths, creeds, rituals, theologies, unlike ways of church governance, and have argued for millenia about where lies the seat of authority in religion. The history of religions, any and all of them, is not a seamless garment. There has been cruelty as well as kindness, bigotry as well as tolerance, tyranny as well as freedom, death-dealing as well as life-saving, much hate and much love.
Nevertheless, the Winners’ Circle may prevail – whether there are ten or a thousand gathered together – when among some at least, the religious meeting generates wholeness (holiness) as well as business, creates comrades as well as clients, acquires sensitivity as well as sales, and develops sustaining convictions as well as pleasant profits. That is a Winners’ Circle of enduring worth, perhaps unrecognized in our culture of consumers.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The 8th Deadly Sin
April 4, 1991
Many times I have considered INERTIA to be the 8th deadly sin. The reference is not to the law of physics, but to the tendency in human nature to put off until tomorrow that which could more easily be done today. Mañana never comes, but we do not face up to that. We may not make that phone call today because we are timid about asking someone to do a volunteer task; or, reluctant to solicit money for a cause, even when the cause is good. We know, but do not act on the reality that when a creditor is pressing for past-due accounts, there is more probability of some accommodation when a timely call is made both to express good intentions and explain a current financial bind. There are many examples of postponing responsibilities and problems because it seems easier.
Wilkins Micawber, bankrupt, dispossessed several times, he and his family in debtors’ prison more than once, comforted himself again and again with the fuzzy hope, “Something will turn up.” Nothing ever did turn up until Mr. Micawber “screwed his courage to the sticking point” (MACBETH, Act 1, Sc. 7) and blew the whistle on Uriah Heep. (If you have forgotten DAVID COPPERFIELD, it is still a good “read” for leisurely hours.)
If there is no physical cause, Inertia is frequently a flight response to fear. Fears are reactions: fear of rejection, fear of pain, fear of displeasing someone we would rather please, anxiety that a hoped-for response will instead be negative, escape from reality (“If it is bad news, don't tell me.”)
I arrived at this reflective mood as I have confronted the personal reality that my Achilles’ Heel is my teeth. That may seem an absurd metaphor, but it describes my condition. Now in my declining years I must spend more money than fits my income on regular trips to the periodontist, the regular dentist, and now, appointment with a root canal specialist. (I assume and trust that he is a specialist; otherwise, how can his high fees be justified?)
Inertia is the main element in my dental history. Candidly, that inertia has been a fear-and-flight response. My first visit to a dentist occurred when I was 13 or 14 years old. There were several cavities. My recollection is that the cavities were drilled and excavated without Novocaine. The jump-starting of my nerves remained as a memory of pain. As any sensible person knows, dentistry has become practically painless in the ensuing 67 years. Nevertheless, it was many years, punctuated, with the loss of several back teeth along with grueling treatment for gingivitis, before I overcame my inertia about regular check-ups with dentists. As a young teen-ager I was imprinted with the fear-flight response. I entertained rationalizations; but that is what they were: rationalizations, not reasons. Now I have been paying the price. Inertia created a delayed bang like lighting a long fuse on a large firecracker.
Now, a segue from the personal to the social-political. Is not political inertia a huge obstacle to a more just, less corrupt political order?
A few weeks ago in the mayoral election in Tampa, about 25% of the eligible voters went to the polls. In our Presidential elections, isn’t it about 60% of the eligible bother to vote? How many constituents regularly write or phone Senators and Representatives to make convictions known?
Inertia! James Reston noted, “All politics are based on the indifference of the majority.” Of course there are defiant shouts, “Throw the rascals out”; and the sad complaint, “You can’t fight City Hall.” Wide-spread cynicism prevails about public personages – with some justification. There is an overload of issues of which the TV God most of us worship airs only brief, inadequate, and many times, biased, news-bits. Do our lawmakers know if we watch their votes on vital issues? Judging by what they do, what do they value most? Or, are we content to make our political choices by watching thirty-second TV “bites” in the election campaigns? Are our prejudices exploited by our irrational responses to slanted, negative accusations and misrepresentation?
W. B. Yeats had lines, (quoted by Cleanth Brooks, THE HIDDEN GOD, p. 49)
“A statesman is an easy man,
He tells his lies by rote;
A journalist makes up his lies
And takes you by the throat;
So stay at home and drink your Beer
And let the neighbors vote.”
Is that too cynical? Perhaps. But it is easy to lip-sync the National Anthem and say the words of the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag. What is difficult is to take seriously the words, “with liberty and justice for all.” “All” is the operative word. One takes heat and calumny for publicly being known for standing for liberty and justice for all because American history and present times provide evidence that one may be labeled “radical” or “troublemaker” because one believes that the great words are to be taken seriously, publicly and privately. Geo. Bernard Shaw once noted, “Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it.”
Hey, I’m not preaching to you; I’m talking to me about me. But if these observations strike you with some resonance, you know what I am attempting to state. One of the definitions of “sin” in the Jewish Scriptures is “missing the mark.” Inertia can be the 8th deadly sin because too often we miss the mark, not because the target is too remote or too difficult, but for the reason we do not promptly draw the bow and launch the arrow. We hesitate because none of us enjoys being found in error. But as a book-reviewer noted (NEW YORKER, 3/11/91) “Mistakes are the ornaments of freedom.” So what if one is wrong now and then? A major-league baseball player can make a million dollars a year if he gets three hits in ten times at bat.
Many times I have considered INERTIA to be the 8th deadly sin. The reference is not to the law of physics, but to the tendency in human nature to put off until tomorrow that which could more easily be done today. Mañana never comes, but we do not face up to that. We may not make that phone call today because we are timid about asking someone to do a volunteer task; or, reluctant to solicit money for a cause, even when the cause is good. We know, but do not act on the reality that when a creditor is pressing for past-due accounts, there is more probability of some accommodation when a timely call is made both to express good intentions and explain a current financial bind. There are many examples of postponing responsibilities and problems because it seems easier.
Wilkins Micawber, bankrupt, dispossessed several times, he and his family in debtors’ prison more than once, comforted himself again and again with the fuzzy hope, “Something will turn up.” Nothing ever did turn up until Mr. Micawber “screwed his courage to the sticking point” (MACBETH, Act 1, Sc. 7) and blew the whistle on Uriah Heep. (If you have forgotten DAVID COPPERFIELD, it is still a good “read” for leisurely hours.)
If there is no physical cause, Inertia is frequently a flight response to fear. Fears are reactions: fear of rejection, fear of pain, fear of displeasing someone we would rather please, anxiety that a hoped-for response will instead be negative, escape from reality (“If it is bad news, don't tell me.”)
I arrived at this reflective mood as I have confronted the personal reality that my Achilles’ Heel is my teeth. That may seem an absurd metaphor, but it describes my condition. Now in my declining years I must spend more money than fits my income on regular trips to the periodontist, the regular dentist, and now, appointment with a root canal specialist. (I assume and trust that he is a specialist; otherwise, how can his high fees be justified?)
Inertia is the main element in my dental history. Candidly, that inertia has been a fear-and-flight response. My first visit to a dentist occurred when I was 13 or 14 years old. There were several cavities. My recollection is that the cavities were drilled and excavated without Novocaine. The jump-starting of my nerves remained as a memory of pain. As any sensible person knows, dentistry has become practically painless in the ensuing 67 years. Nevertheless, it was many years, punctuated, with the loss of several back teeth along with grueling treatment for gingivitis, before I overcame my inertia about regular check-ups with dentists. As a young teen-ager I was imprinted with the fear-flight response. I entertained rationalizations; but that is what they were: rationalizations, not reasons. Now I have been paying the price. Inertia created a delayed bang like lighting a long fuse on a large firecracker.
Now, a segue from the personal to the social-political. Is not political inertia a huge obstacle to a more just, less corrupt political order?
A few weeks ago in the mayoral election in Tampa, about 25% of the eligible voters went to the polls. In our Presidential elections, isn’t it about 60% of the eligible bother to vote? How many constituents regularly write or phone Senators and Representatives to make convictions known?
Inertia! James Reston noted, “All politics are based on the indifference of the majority.” Of course there are defiant shouts, “Throw the rascals out”; and the sad complaint, “You can’t fight City Hall.” Wide-spread cynicism prevails about public personages – with some justification. There is an overload of issues of which the TV God most of us worship airs only brief, inadequate, and many times, biased, news-bits. Do our lawmakers know if we watch their votes on vital issues? Judging by what they do, what do they value most? Or, are we content to make our political choices by watching thirty-second TV “bites” in the election campaigns? Are our prejudices exploited by our irrational responses to slanted, negative accusations and misrepresentation?
W. B. Yeats had lines, (quoted by Cleanth Brooks, THE HIDDEN GOD, p. 49)
“A statesman is an easy man,
He tells his lies by rote;
A journalist makes up his lies
And takes you by the throat;
So stay at home and drink your Beer
And let the neighbors vote.”
Is that too cynical? Perhaps. But it is easy to lip-sync the National Anthem and say the words of the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag. What is difficult is to take seriously the words, “with liberty and justice for all.” “All” is the operative word. One takes heat and calumny for publicly being known for standing for liberty and justice for all because American history and present times provide evidence that one may be labeled “radical” or “troublemaker” because one believes that the great words are to be taken seriously, publicly and privately. Geo. Bernard Shaw once noted, “Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it.”
Hey, I’m not preaching to you; I’m talking to me about me. But if these observations strike you with some resonance, you know what I am attempting to state. One of the definitions of “sin” in the Jewish Scriptures is “missing the mark.” Inertia can be the 8th deadly sin because too often we miss the mark, not because the target is too remote or too difficult, but for the reason we do not promptly draw the bow and launch the arrow. We hesitate because none of us enjoys being found in error. But as a book-reviewer noted (NEW YORKER, 3/11/91) “Mistakes are the ornaments of freedom.” So what if one is wrong now and then? A major-league baseball player can make a million dollars a year if he gets three hits in ten times at bat.
Prologue To What?
March 12, 1991
An editor of THE YALE SHAKESPEARE comments, “the true source of THE TEMPEST is Shakespeare's experience in coming to terms with life.” More than one reading of that play may be necessary to persuade you of the merit of that observation. It has occurred to me that THE TEMPEST is a prism, reflecting in its facets a variety of human experience – the love and care of a parent, the joy of young lovers, the bitterness of disillusion, and both the meanness and generosity of which the human spirit is capable.
Antonio (Act II, Sc. 1) says, “What’s past is prologue.” But, prologue to what? Antonio usurped his brother, Prospero, as rightful Duke of Milan. Together with other conspirators, [he] put Prospero on a leaky ship, sure to founder and drown Prospero and his infant daughter, Miranda. But Prospero, who has magical powers, brings
the doomed ship safely to an uninhabited island. There, his magic rules Ariel, the spirit, and Caliban, the monster. Miranda is reared with loving care, protected and unaware of the kind of world that exists outside the island.
Prospero, through his command of Ariel’s powers, has caused the ship of his old enemies to be wrecked on the island. While the old foes are spellbound by Ariel, Miranda and Ferdinand, son of Alonso, King of Naples, fall joyously in love. Then in the movements of the plot, the old enemies must confront Prospero, who has them in his power.
When Miranda, happy in her love for Ferdinand, meets the shipwrecked villains for the first time, she says naïvely, (Act V, Sc. 1)
“O wonder
How many goodly creatures
are there here!
O Brave New World
That has such people in’t.”
Prospero replies, “’Tis new to thee.” That line could be delivered sadly, ironically, or bitterly. With the exception of the aged counselor, Gonzalo, and young Ferdinand, Prospero knows them to be murdering villains, power-grabbers, winos, and crude buffoons. One can say that Miranda is the naïve idealist and Prospero the realist, who knows through experience how cruel and false men can be.
Brave New World? An ideal society? Aldous Huxley wrote BRAVE NEW WORLD, a book I read years ago. My recollection is that “Slave New World” would have been a more relevant title. Thomas More wrote UTOPIA, and the word caught on to indicate a better world than anyone has ever known. Thomas More used the fictional device of conducting a dialogue with a man from Utopia, Raphel Hythlodeus. But in the Greek, Utopia means “Nowhere”; and Hythlodeus means, “Lord of nonsense.” Interestingly enough, some Marxist scholars found the basis of much (but not all) theoretical socialism in More’s UTOPIA. If More knew that, he would be spinning in his grave, because his life was a denial of the ideas and politics that came to be known as socialism. For example, in UTOPIA, no lawyers are allowed. But Thomas More was a clever lawyer who used his legal talent to avert execution, almost to the end. Brave New World?
Gibbon, the historian whose knowledge of ancient sources was extraordinary, came to a melancholy conclusion, “History is little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.” History can be interpreted in such a doleful appraisal.
Barbara Tuchman, in her sobering history, THE MARCH OF FOLLY FROM TROY TO VIETNAM, writes of how frequently countries, and their leaders, pursued policies that were against their own best interests. In outlining the follies of Troy, the Renaissance Popes, the British loss of America, Vietnam, she illustrates her theme (p.7), “Wooden-headedness, the source of self-deception is a factor that plays a remarkably large role in government. It consists of assessing a situation in terms of preconceived fixed notions while ignoring or rejecting any contrary sign. It is acting according to wish while not allowing oneself to be deflected by facts.”
While there is no doubt that history reveals the stupidity and self-deception that has caused so much agony and death, one can look at more positive achievements. Human slavery has mostly been abolished. Medicine and more hygienic ways have provided skills and methods because of which many of us now alive would have long since been dead. In the more industrialized countries, child labor (although it still exists) is now illegal. Many countries (not ours) provide medical service to everyone. There is more food and shelter for the people of many nations (although millions of people still starve in Africa). We tolerate thousands of homeless, with little national will to address and ameliorate that scandal. One can still hope for human survival because, as Robert Lifton pointed out in his trenchant study, “We have the capacity for self-destruction AND self-renewal.” But one must remember (and I do not recall the source of this quote), “When all is left to diplomats and Presidents, the people get left.”
Brave New World? A perfect society is unattainable but a better one is possible. Prospero provided a clue, when, with the opportunity to destroy his enemies, he forgives them. He speaks to Ariel, (Act V, Sc. l)
“Though with their high wrongs
I am struck to the quick,
Yet with my nobler reason
’gainst my folly
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance.”
THE TEMPEST has many allegorical possibilities, as Margaret Webster (Shakespearean actress, director, producer) suggested in her SHAKESPEARE WITHOUT TEARS.
The more you reflect on THE TEMPEST, the surer will be your grasp of the human condition – its folly and wisdom, its ugliness and beauty. She also believes Prospero’s speech, “our revels now are ended,” (ACT IV, Sc. 1) was Shakespeare’s farewell to the stage; and that in the original production, ended the play and not the Masque.
“Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
(as I foretold you) were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air,
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
is rounded with a sleep.”
If any words are said over my ashes, those luminous, ethereal lines would be to my liking.
An editor of THE YALE SHAKESPEARE comments, “the true source of THE TEMPEST is Shakespeare's experience in coming to terms with life.” More than one reading of that play may be necessary to persuade you of the merit of that observation. It has occurred to me that THE TEMPEST is a prism, reflecting in its facets a variety of human experience – the love and care of a parent, the joy of young lovers, the bitterness of disillusion, and both the meanness and generosity of which the human spirit is capable.
Antonio (Act II, Sc. 1) says, “What’s past is prologue.” But, prologue to what? Antonio usurped his brother, Prospero, as rightful Duke of Milan. Together with other conspirators, [he] put Prospero on a leaky ship, sure to founder and drown Prospero and his infant daughter, Miranda. But Prospero, who has magical powers, brings
the doomed ship safely to an uninhabited island. There, his magic rules Ariel, the spirit, and Caliban, the monster. Miranda is reared with loving care, protected and unaware of the kind of world that exists outside the island.
Prospero, through his command of Ariel’s powers, has caused the ship of his old enemies to be wrecked on the island. While the old foes are spellbound by Ariel, Miranda and Ferdinand, son of Alonso, King of Naples, fall joyously in love. Then in the movements of the plot, the old enemies must confront Prospero, who has them in his power.
When Miranda, happy in her love for Ferdinand, meets the shipwrecked villains for the first time, she says naïvely, (Act V, Sc. 1)
“O wonder
How many goodly creatures
are there here!
O Brave New World
That has such people in’t.”
Prospero replies, “’Tis new to thee.” That line could be delivered sadly, ironically, or bitterly. With the exception of the aged counselor, Gonzalo, and young Ferdinand, Prospero knows them to be murdering villains, power-grabbers, winos, and crude buffoons. One can say that Miranda is the naïve idealist and Prospero the realist, who knows through experience how cruel and false men can be.
Brave New World? An ideal society? Aldous Huxley wrote BRAVE NEW WORLD, a book I read years ago. My recollection is that “Slave New World” would have been a more relevant title. Thomas More wrote UTOPIA, and the word caught on to indicate a better world than anyone has ever known. Thomas More used the fictional device of conducting a dialogue with a man from Utopia, Raphel Hythlodeus. But in the Greek, Utopia means “Nowhere”; and Hythlodeus means, “Lord of nonsense.” Interestingly enough, some Marxist scholars found the basis of much (but not all) theoretical socialism in More’s UTOPIA. If More knew that, he would be spinning in his grave, because his life was a denial of the ideas and politics that came to be known as socialism. For example, in UTOPIA, no lawyers are allowed. But Thomas More was a clever lawyer who used his legal talent to avert execution, almost to the end. Brave New World?
Gibbon, the historian whose knowledge of ancient sources was extraordinary, came to a melancholy conclusion, “History is little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.” History can be interpreted in such a doleful appraisal.
Barbara Tuchman, in her sobering history, THE MARCH OF FOLLY FROM TROY TO VIETNAM, writes of how frequently countries, and their leaders, pursued policies that were against their own best interests. In outlining the follies of Troy, the Renaissance Popes, the British loss of America, Vietnam, she illustrates her theme (p.7), “Wooden-headedness, the source of self-deception is a factor that plays a remarkably large role in government. It consists of assessing a situation in terms of preconceived fixed notions while ignoring or rejecting any contrary sign. It is acting according to wish while not allowing oneself to be deflected by facts.”
While there is no doubt that history reveals the stupidity and self-deception that has caused so much agony and death, one can look at more positive achievements. Human slavery has mostly been abolished. Medicine and more hygienic ways have provided skills and methods because of which many of us now alive would have long since been dead. In the more industrialized countries, child labor (although it still exists) is now illegal. Many countries (not ours) provide medical service to everyone. There is more food and shelter for the people of many nations (although millions of people still starve in Africa). We tolerate thousands of homeless, with little national will to address and ameliorate that scandal. One can still hope for human survival because, as Robert Lifton pointed out in his trenchant study, “We have the capacity for self-destruction AND self-renewal.” But one must remember (and I do not recall the source of this quote), “When all is left to diplomats and Presidents, the people get left.”
Brave New World? A perfect society is unattainable but a better one is possible. Prospero provided a clue, when, with the opportunity to destroy his enemies, he forgives them. He speaks to Ariel, (Act V, Sc. l)
“Though with their high wrongs
I am struck to the quick,
Yet with my nobler reason
’gainst my folly
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance.”
THE TEMPEST has many allegorical possibilities, as Margaret Webster (Shakespearean actress, director, producer) suggested in her SHAKESPEARE WITHOUT TEARS.
The more you reflect on THE TEMPEST, the surer will be your grasp of the human condition – its folly and wisdom, its ugliness and beauty. She also believes Prospero’s speech, “our revels now are ended,” (ACT IV, Sc. 1) was Shakespeare’s farewell to the stage; and that in the original production, ended the play and not the Masque.
“Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
(as I foretold you) were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air,
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
is rounded with a sleep.”
If any words are said over my ashes, those luminous, ethereal lines would be to my liking.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Introduction To Musings II – Second Section
December 1991
Introduction To Musings II – Second Section
As noted in previous “Musings,” these are my expressions of fact and opinion. I can cite the sources of what is written as factual. The opinions and convictions are mine. Your views may differ. Whatever may be our unlike conclusions, we all gain in the process of examining our values, goals, and interpretations of our living experience. I am not at all abashed that I “write with more will than skill.” (To quote Apuleius)
To take one tiny step for ecology, if you want the next “Musings”, let me know. Thereby we won’t save a tree, but maybe a twig or two.
I’ll be thinking of all of you as another year ends and a new one begins. I wish profoundly that 1992 will be laced with your health and happiness.
Carl J. Westman
Introduction To Musings II – Second Section
As noted in previous “Musings,” these are my expressions of fact and opinion. I can cite the sources of what is written as factual. The opinions and convictions are mine. Your views may differ. Whatever may be our unlike conclusions, we all gain in the process of examining our values, goals, and interpretations of our living experience. I am not at all abashed that I “write with more will than skill.” (To quote Apuleius)
To take one tiny step for ecology, if you want the next “Musings”, let me know. Thereby we won’t save a tree, but maybe a twig or two.
I’ll be thinking of all of you as another year ends and a new one begins. I wish profoundly that 1992 will be laced with your health and happiness.
Carl J. Westman
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Protests And Patriotism
February 8, 1991
Two predictable events happen when our nation goes to war: first, there will be protests, marches, and demonstrations; second, there will be angry reactions by those who believe that to protest a war is both unpatriotic and damaging to the morale of our service men and women. In the climate of such conflicting passions, an observation by Oscar Wilde started my reflections on this division in our nation, “The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
The protesters do not comprise a united movement with the same goals and motives. Some are pacifists who strongly believe any war is wrong. Some who may not be pacifists are motivated by the conviction that Desert Storm was premature because persistent diplomatic efforts and continued sanctions could have reached a solution without war. Some protesters are “anti-establishment” who believe our government has been wrong in many declared and undeclared wars, including the present war with Iraq. Others hold that the reasons stated for war with Iraq are blurred and vague. Still others believe this is a war for oil – its price, distribution, and profits; and not worth the blood and suffering of international conflict.
Those who resent and condemn protesters are a majority; there is little question about that. War spirit always captures most Americans. Serious doubts and searching questions are both ignored and condemned. To raise issues is considered a “slap in the face” of our armed forces who confront death and destruction in a far-away land. One person wrote that such protests and demonstrations are “trashing the soldiers.”
What seems to be overlooked is the common ground shared by these two factions. Both earnestly seek that our service men and women come home without heavy casualties and free from a burden of guilt, to resume their normal lives in safety. The methods so differ, however, the majority would approve limiting the speech of the anti-war protesters and their freedom to assemble peacefully to publicize their anti-war convictions.
But basic to our Constitution is the right of a minority to state opinions contrary to the majority and voice opposition to official government policies and actions.
Many people are familiar with Lord Acton’s dictum about “power.” Less well-known, but equally true, is what he wrote about “liberty” (in his essay “History of Freedom in Antiquity”):
“By liberty I mean the assurance that every man shall be protected in doing what he believes his duty against the influence of authority and majorities, customs and opinions.... The most certain test by which we judge whether a country is really free is the amount of security enjoyed by minorities.”
What can we possibly win if we lose that liberty?
Two predictable events happen when our nation goes to war: first, there will be protests, marches, and demonstrations; second, there will be angry reactions by those who believe that to protest a war is both unpatriotic and damaging to the morale of our service men and women. In the climate of such conflicting passions, an observation by Oscar Wilde started my reflections on this division in our nation, “The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
The protesters do not comprise a united movement with the same goals and motives. Some are pacifists who strongly believe any war is wrong. Some who may not be pacifists are motivated by the conviction that Desert Storm was premature because persistent diplomatic efforts and continued sanctions could have reached a solution without war. Some protesters are “anti-establishment” who believe our government has been wrong in many declared and undeclared wars, including the present war with Iraq. Others hold that the reasons stated for war with Iraq are blurred and vague. Still others believe this is a war for oil – its price, distribution, and profits; and not worth the blood and suffering of international conflict.
Those who resent and condemn protesters are a majority; there is little question about that. War spirit always captures most Americans. Serious doubts and searching questions are both ignored and condemned. To raise issues is considered a “slap in the face” of our armed forces who confront death and destruction in a far-away land. One person wrote that such protests and demonstrations are “trashing the soldiers.”
What seems to be overlooked is the common ground shared by these two factions. Both earnestly seek that our service men and women come home without heavy casualties and free from a burden of guilt, to resume their normal lives in safety. The methods so differ, however, the majority would approve limiting the speech of the anti-war protesters and their freedom to assemble peacefully to publicize their anti-war convictions.
But basic to our Constitution is the right of a minority to state opinions contrary to the majority and voice opposition to official government policies and actions.
Many people are familiar with Lord Acton’s dictum about “power.” Less well-known, but equally true, is what he wrote about “liberty” (in his essay “History of Freedom in Antiquity”):
“By liberty I mean the assurance that every man shall be protected in doing what he believes his duty against the influence of authority and majorities, customs and opinions.... The most certain test by which we judge whether a country is really free is the amount of security enjoyed by minorities.”
What can we possibly win if we lose that liberty?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Not For Your Comfort
January 29, 1991
As the images flickered on the tube, reflecting censored versions of the operations of Desert Storm and the Iraq enemy, I recalled a clause from Scripture, “there is no discharge from war.”
The words come from the Wisdom Literature of the Jewish Scriptures. In the 2nd or 3rd century B.C.E., a wise writer, but hardly optimistic, reflected on the human condition. He is identified as Ecclesiastes, (“preacher” in the Greek), Koheleth, (“leader of an assembly” in the Hebrew). This comment appears in the 8th verse of the 8th chapter: (RSV)
“No man has the power to retain the spirit,
or the authority over the day of death; there is
no discharge from war, nor will wickedness
deliver those who are given to it.”
Moffatt translates the verse this way:
“NO man can hold the winds in check or control
the day of death; in war there is no furlough
and wrong is no shield for wrongdoers.”
There is no discharge from war, even though fond hopes and millions of prayers earnestly petition that victory will arrive quickly, Saddam Hussein crushed, and our men and women brought home to be honored by a nation grateful for their courage, loyalty, discipline and skill. But there will be no discharge in war. (I write as one who still believes sanctions against [Iraq] should have remained in force for a much longer period.
There will be no discharge for the dead, soldiers from the United States, United Kingdom, France, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and the other allies and the dead in Iraq. Soldiers, airmen, sailors, marines, civilians – will the victory have been worth the lives of those who died? Being human and patriotic, we will count and mourn our dead. We won’t grieve overmuch about the civilians who perished in the desert war, will we? The difficult recovery from death and damage will be far away. (We may allot billions of dollars to repair and restore the destruction caused in winning.)
There will be no discharge from war for our veterans who come back with battle wounds from which they may never recover. As they spend their lives maimed or ill, how many will be bitter that their loyal service was a life sentence?
There will be no discharge from war for those who return dislocated in mind, emotion or family life, traumatized by the experience of what they saw, what they did and what they knew others did.
There will be no discharge from war for the many species of marine and bird life perishing in the Gulf as a result of Iraq’s opening the valves and poisoning the waters with millions of gallons of oil.
There will be no discharge from military responsibility when the war ends. We have had forces in Germany for 45 years, in Korea for almost 40 years. Will the responsibility of victory keep service men and women in the scorching desert for decades, too?
There will be no discharge from the mammoth debts incurred in the war. No one seems to be giving any serious thought as to how we pay. Contributions from Japan, Germany, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait will be substantial, but our national deficit will be even more of a serious threat. Will we face the problem openly and realistically? Or, will we, in the words of some Southern politician, say, “Don’t tax me, don’t tax thee, tax that fellow behind the tree.”
There is no discharge from war. Whatever and whenever the outcome, the burden will be heavy. The human family carries the pain, scars, and deaths uncountable from the unending wars which seem the main theme of the opus of history. Can we change the raucous, deadly discords to some harmony? Perhaps, if the world players persistently rehearse the same score, with determination, understanding, skill, cooperation and, I hope, with some touch of humor. That might indeed be a New World Symphony.
As the images flickered on the tube, reflecting censored versions of the operations of Desert Storm and the Iraq enemy, I recalled a clause from Scripture, “there is no discharge from war.”
The words come from the Wisdom Literature of the Jewish Scriptures. In the 2nd or 3rd century B.C.E., a wise writer, but hardly optimistic, reflected on the human condition. He is identified as Ecclesiastes, (“preacher” in the Greek), Koheleth, (“leader of an assembly” in the Hebrew). This comment appears in the 8th verse of the 8th chapter: (RSV)
“No man has the power to retain the spirit,
or the authority over the day of death; there is
no discharge from war, nor will wickedness
deliver those who are given to it.”
Moffatt translates the verse this way:
“NO man can hold the winds in check or control
the day of death; in war there is no furlough
and wrong is no shield for wrongdoers.”
There is no discharge from war, even though fond hopes and millions of prayers earnestly petition that victory will arrive quickly, Saddam Hussein crushed, and our men and women brought home to be honored by a nation grateful for their courage, loyalty, discipline and skill. But there will be no discharge in war. (I write as one who still believes sanctions against [Iraq] should have remained in force for a much longer period.
There will be no discharge for the dead, soldiers from the United States, United Kingdom, France, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and the other allies and the dead in Iraq. Soldiers, airmen, sailors, marines, civilians – will the victory have been worth the lives of those who died? Being human and patriotic, we will count and mourn our dead. We won’t grieve overmuch about the civilians who perished in the desert war, will we? The difficult recovery from death and damage will be far away. (We may allot billions of dollars to repair and restore the destruction caused in winning.)
There will be no discharge from war for our veterans who come back with battle wounds from which they may never recover. As they spend their lives maimed or ill, how many will be bitter that their loyal service was a life sentence?
There will be no discharge from war for those who return dislocated in mind, emotion or family life, traumatized by the experience of what they saw, what they did and what they knew others did.
There will be no discharge from war for the many species of marine and bird life perishing in the Gulf as a result of Iraq’s opening the valves and poisoning the waters with millions of gallons of oil.
There will be no discharge from military responsibility when the war ends. We have had forces in Germany for 45 years, in Korea for almost 40 years. Will the responsibility of victory keep service men and women in the scorching desert for decades, too?
There will be no discharge from the mammoth debts incurred in the war. No one seems to be giving any serious thought as to how we pay. Contributions from Japan, Germany, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait will be substantial, but our national deficit will be even more of a serious threat. Will we face the problem openly and realistically? Or, will we, in the words of some Southern politician, say, “Don’t tax me, don’t tax thee, tax that fellow behind the tree.”
There is no discharge from war. Whatever and whenever the outcome, the burden will be heavy. The human family carries the pain, scars, and deaths uncountable from the unending wars which seem the main theme of the opus of history. Can we change the raucous, deadly discords to some harmony? Perhaps, if the world players persistently rehearse the same score, with determination, understanding, skill, cooperation and, I hope, with some touch of humor. That might indeed be a New World Symphony.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Taxes And Death
January 8, 1991
An unarguable cliché continually going the rounds is that two events are inevitable – death and taxes. The cliché is a truism, of course. However, what is provoking my thoughts in these comments on the cliché is, what kind of taxes, what kind of death? Thus, a brief comment on one Revolution and more extended observations on another: the American Revolution and the French Revolution.
In hindsight, eventual freedom for the American colonies seems inevitable, but the struggle for independence would have lasted many more years, perhaps generations, had it not been for French assistance. In 1781, when Washington’s army on land and the French fleet in Chesapeake Bay bottled up Cornwallis at Yorktown, American independence was assured. We did not forget. When the A.E.F. reached France in World War I, the debt was recognized dramatically when General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing, placed a wreath at the tomb of Lafayette with the words, “Lafayette, we are here.”
Less well-known, but also substantial, was the assistance of Dutch shipping, bringing arms and supplies to the struggling Colonists. The late Barbara Tuchman writes this part of our history with knowledge, eloquence, and appreciation in her book, THE FIRST SALUTE.
But in no small degree, the aid France gave to us was a substantive addition to the complex of conditions that sparked the French Revolution. In his instructive history, CITIZENS, A CHRONICLE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, Simon Schama illuminates these circumstances.
Huge debt, the consequence of wars, along with bureaucratic indolence and corruption, had placed France in a precarious financial position when Louis XVI was crowned in 1775. The War of the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War with England (1756-1763), which we call the French and Indian War, had caused huge financial drains on France, not to mention the profligacy of the King and his court.
Thus, when the French decided to help the American Colonies win freedom from England, the government of Louis XVI was already immersed in overwhelming debt. Yet in 1781 alone, France expended 227 million livres on the American campaign. The French government borrowed most of the money by way of external and internal loans. By the year 1788, interest on France’s debts was consuming fifty percent of all current revenues.
The financial crisis was deepened by a taxation system, the Farmers General, a syndicate of politically-powerful men. ... As Schama describes, “Every six years the Crown contracted with the syndicate to advance a specific sum for the right to collect indirect taxes” – salt, leather, ironware, soap, wine. Added to the revenue were customs duties from one zone to another. The profit of the Farmers General was a secret. Farmers General had quasi-governmental powers, had an armed force of twenty-one thousand, with the right to enter households and establishments to search and seize property of persons they suspected of avoiding taxes. When the Revolution came, “these blood-suckers” were called to account. In 1794, a group of the Farmers General went to the guillotine.
Conditions had become more desperate as drought reduced the grain crop, cattle disease struck, and greedy profiteers raised the price of bread to unconscionable levels. Angry resentment, hunger, poverty, bankruptcy, ignited the Revolution. The ideals and slogan, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity came later.
Historical analogies break down readily, but there are sobering references. France did not play a crucial role in the American Revolution just because they wanted the Colonies to be a free nation. That was true of Lafayette, but not of the French Crown and its ministers. England and France had been at war for centuries, off and on. France thirsted for revenge and the recovery of possessions lost to England in the Seven Years (French and Indian) War. The governing principle was “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” But that principle, applied, was a strong factor in the bankruptcy of the French nation.
In our U.S.A., our national debt has reached proportions that economists, some of them at least, are predicting disastrous consequences. Much talent and treasure has been spent financing nations and movements which are, or seem to be, enemies of our enemies. We supported the rebels (Contras) in Nicaragua because they claimed to be anti-communist or anti-Sandinista. We support the government in El Salvador because THEIR rebels were proclaimed to be pro-communist. Now in Arabian deserts, we have posted 350,000 of our army, air and naval forces. War with Iraq seems imminent. What the cost in American and other lives will be is unknown, but it will be a deep and lasting sorrow. Financially, guesses are that if war comes, $30 billion will be needed in 1991, and some estimates are one billion dollars a day. Given the huge deficit that already exists, could our whole nation become impoverished, bankrupt?
A revolution here as savage and murderous as the French Revolution appears highly unreal. Violence and revenge in the streets seems unlikely to be caused by a shortage of bread or even staggering inflation. Cumbersome as our systems of Federal, State, County and Municipal taxations are, a comparison with the Farmers General would be wide of the mark. Nevertheless, there will be a bill, sometime, for the immense obligations for which we have contracted. Who will pay? All of us. Perhaps enough integrity and common-sense will prevail, to the end that in spite of lobbies, special interest groups and political blocs, the burdens will be fairly shared. But not if, the adage of the French aristocracy, “apres moi le deluge” is the mood of that time of reckoning.
An unarguable cliché continually going the rounds is that two events are inevitable – death and taxes. The cliché is a truism, of course. However, what is provoking my thoughts in these comments on the cliché is, what kind of taxes, what kind of death? Thus, a brief comment on one Revolution and more extended observations on another: the American Revolution and the French Revolution.
In hindsight, eventual freedom for the American colonies seems inevitable, but the struggle for independence would have lasted many more years, perhaps generations, had it not been for French assistance. In 1781, when Washington’s army on land and the French fleet in Chesapeake Bay bottled up Cornwallis at Yorktown, American independence was assured. We did not forget. When the A.E.F. reached France in World War I, the debt was recognized dramatically when General John J. (Black Jack) Pershing, placed a wreath at the tomb of Lafayette with the words, “Lafayette, we are here.”
Less well-known, but also substantial, was the assistance of Dutch shipping, bringing arms and supplies to the struggling Colonists. The late Barbara Tuchman writes this part of our history with knowledge, eloquence, and appreciation in her book, THE FIRST SALUTE.
But in no small degree, the aid France gave to us was a substantive addition to the complex of conditions that sparked the French Revolution. In his instructive history, CITIZENS, A CHRONICLE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, Simon Schama illuminates these circumstances.
Huge debt, the consequence of wars, along with bureaucratic indolence and corruption, had placed France in a precarious financial position when Louis XVI was crowned in 1775. The War of the Austrian Succession and the Seven Years War with England (1756-1763), which we call the French and Indian War, had caused huge financial drains on France, not to mention the profligacy of the King and his court.
Thus, when the French decided to help the American Colonies win freedom from England, the government of Louis XVI was already immersed in overwhelming debt. Yet in 1781 alone, France expended 227 million livres on the American campaign. The French government borrowed most of the money by way of external and internal loans. By the year 1788, interest on France’s debts was consuming fifty percent of all current revenues.
The financial crisis was deepened by a taxation system, the Farmers General, a syndicate of politically-powerful men. ... As Schama describes, “Every six years the Crown contracted with the syndicate to advance a specific sum for the right to collect indirect taxes” – salt, leather, ironware, soap, wine. Added to the revenue were customs duties from one zone to another. The profit of the Farmers General was a secret. Farmers General had quasi-governmental powers, had an armed force of twenty-one thousand, with the right to enter households and establishments to search and seize property of persons they suspected of avoiding taxes. When the Revolution came, “these blood-suckers” were called to account. In 1794, a group of the Farmers General went to the guillotine.
Conditions had become more desperate as drought reduced the grain crop, cattle disease struck, and greedy profiteers raised the price of bread to unconscionable levels. Angry resentment, hunger, poverty, bankruptcy, ignited the Revolution. The ideals and slogan, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity came later.
Historical analogies break down readily, but there are sobering references. France did not play a crucial role in the American Revolution just because they wanted the Colonies to be a free nation. That was true of Lafayette, but not of the French Crown and its ministers. England and France had been at war for centuries, off and on. France thirsted for revenge and the recovery of possessions lost to England in the Seven Years (French and Indian) War. The governing principle was “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” But that principle, applied, was a strong factor in the bankruptcy of the French nation.
In our U.S.A., our national debt has reached proportions that economists, some of them at least, are predicting disastrous consequences. Much talent and treasure has been spent financing nations and movements which are, or seem to be, enemies of our enemies. We supported the rebels (Contras) in Nicaragua because they claimed to be anti-communist or anti-Sandinista. We support the government in El Salvador because THEIR rebels were proclaimed to be pro-communist. Now in Arabian deserts, we have posted 350,000 of our army, air and naval forces. War with Iraq seems imminent. What the cost in American and other lives will be is unknown, but it will be a deep and lasting sorrow. Financially, guesses are that if war comes, $30 billion will be needed in 1991, and some estimates are one billion dollars a day. Given the huge deficit that already exists, could our whole nation become impoverished, bankrupt?
A revolution here as savage and murderous as the French Revolution appears highly unreal. Violence and revenge in the streets seems unlikely to be caused by a shortage of bread or even staggering inflation. Cumbersome as our systems of Federal, State, County and Municipal taxations are, a comparison with the Farmers General would be wide of the mark. Nevertheless, there will be a bill, sometime, for the immense obligations for which we have contracted. Who will pay? All of us. Perhaps enough integrity and common-sense will prevail, to the end that in spite of lobbies, special interest groups and political blocs, the burdens will be fairly shared. But not if, the adage of the French aristocracy, “apres moi le deluge” is the mood of that time of reckoning.
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Cosmos And The Human Condition
December 1990
Musings 1991
The vast reaches of our universe overpower the most fertile imaginations. In October, a news story reported the discovery of the largest galaxy: Abell 2029 has more than 100 trillion stars, dwarfing “our” Milky Way galaxy which has “only” about 3 billion stars. Abell 2029 is a cluster of about 1000 galaxies, each with billions of stars. Abell 2029 is about one billion light-years away. In one of our calendar years, a light-year travels 5.89 trillion miles. One billion multiplied by nearly 6 trillion!! Can you honestly say that you comprehend that mathematical stunner? I can’t. Our Sun is a glowing mass that lights, feeds and warms our planet Earth. The Sun is a star so bright we can only for a moment gaze at it directly. Can you grasp at all that there are trillions of stars like our Sun?
In COSMOS, Carl Sagan wrote that our Sun is eight light-minutes distant. A “near” star, Beta Andromeda is 75 light-years from us. If it blew itself up, we would not know for 75 years. Should we receive a message from a planet in a distant solar system, it is possible that the life form that sent it will have been extinct for millions of years by the time the message reaches Earth. Similarly, if Voyagers I and II are interpreted by another life form, thousands or millions of light-years hence, our civilization will have been extinct and our planet a cinder or cloud of gas for millions of years by that time. The discovery of Abell 2029 informs the astro-physicists and astronomers of what these billions of stars were a billion years ago. What may have happened in a billion years? Are such times and distances within the capacity of the human mind?
Present scientific thought places the origin of the universe, the Big Bang, 10 to 20 billions of years ago. Perhaps accepted theories of “how” may develop. But I submit to you that there may never be a widely acceptable answer to “Why?” there was a Big Bang at all. Why is there something rather than nothing? I guess I have quoted J.B.S. Haldane to about everyone I know, “The universe is not only queerer than you suppose; it is queerer than you CAN suppose.”
I remember a cartoon showing a bear emerging from hibernation in Spring, looking at the green leaves and buds, saying, “Some year I'm going to stay up and see how those leaves get back on the trees.” I have a hunch like that about the universe. There may be a gap in our knowledge and methods, leaving us ignorant of some astonishing, amazing process (reality, force, perception) of which, perhaps, we can never know, let alone understand.
After all, isn’t it true that we have imposed our human dimensions and perceptions on the universe? Math, astronomy, optics, telemetry, Red Shift, and all the other tools of science assumptions are learnings, definitions, and conclusions acquired in human history. However challenging, persuasive, winsome, or comforting scientific research may be, it is an achievement of men and women on planet Earth. There is no evidence that if there are life forms on distant planets that their scientific ways are those tracked out for us here by Pythagoras, Euclid, Galileo, Einstein, Hawking, and the multitudes of others who have established, refined, experimented, and enlarged our knowledge. Perhaps in the unreachable depths of space, some beings communicate by singing, as do our great ocean creatures, the whales, or by dancing messages as a swarm of bees. Nietzsche once wrote, “... physics, too, is only an interpretation of the world and an arrangement of it (to suit ourselves, if I may say so!) and not an explanation.”
But the arduous difficulty of mentally comprehending the mystery does not preclude the feelings of awe and wonder as we bask in the Sun’s warmth or behold the beauty of the heavens on a clear, star-gemmed night. Sara Teasdale had poetic lines:
“And I know that I
am honored to be
Witness of so much
Majesty.”
The poet capitalizes “Majesty” – awarding, presumably, Divinity to the beautiful skyscape. For me, the lines are aesthetic, not theological. The theologues have posited a Creator who was First Cause or Uncaused Cause. Uncaused Cause is a leap of faith, but grammatically it is an oxymoron. Theologians, most of them, proclaim an additional assumption that this Creator has a singular devotion to the humans on this planet, providing them with the assurance of salvation upon performance of rites, testimonies, repentance, sacrifice, belief, or sacraments.
I have no quarrel with the vast majority of persons who make this leap of faith. Faith, by definition, is belief without convincing evidence for its truth. Faith is not fact. Otherwise, why so many different faiths? Persons are inspired, comforted, freed from fear, or solaced in hardship by believing that God will “wipe away the tears.” If you have that religious trust, my agnostic inquiries will not weaken your faith. But, as one of a tiny minority, I perceive formidable obstacles to holding such a faith.
First, there is not much that convinces me that a God, Creator, Allah, Yahveh, Trinity, Force (insert your own name for it) has any unique or special interest in humans on planet Earth. One is saved from earthquake, volcanic eruption, flood, hurricane, plague, drought by luck and human skill, not divine intervention. When survivors of a disaster thank God for being saved when many others, equally innocent, perish, the testimony is questionable. “The rain falls on the just and unjust.” The Management of events is impersonal or non-personal. “Management” is a term a writer recently used because the usual names for the forces that seem to prevail in the universe are too faith-bound. But “Management” is just as culture-bound as any other name; and raises the same questions. What Board of Trustees appointed “The MANAGEMENT?”
My second heretical question is, why planet Earth should be singled out as the scene for God’s Salvation Scheme? Earth is a single drop in a Pacific Ocean of galaxies, solar systems, planets, satellites. Where is the evidence or reason that this planet and its people have been awarded special status? With the usual acid mixed with with his ink, H. L. Mencken wrote, “The cosmos is a gigantic fly-wheel making 10,000 revolutions a minute. Man is a sick fly taking a dizzy ride on it. Religion is the theory that the wheel was designed and set spinning to give him a ride.” (quoted PORTABLE CURMUDGEON) I hope I’m not as biting as Mencken, although there are those who tell me I’m well on the way to the curmudgeon class. But I am persuaded that “Special Divine Choosing” for the human beings on our planet is anthropocentric arrogance.
Do these observations indicate that I do not hold human life of worth? Quite the contrary. We are here; we are here on this planet; we must live together or die together. We need no Bible or Koran to convince us that freedom ennobles, that the boundaries of human justice must widen, that children are precious, that human hunger needs to be fed, that illness needs skilled, tender care, that governments and bureaucracies can be disciplined IF enough of us insist, that human love is fulfilling and self-justifying whether or not it has any “divine” links. If there is another life, prepare for it by being responsible here. If there is no other life, live this one well.
One final disclaimer: I freely acknowledge that what is factual and reasonable to me may be dreary theory for you – and conversely. So let us share our fears and hopes. Paraphrasing Nietzsche (I cannot locate the exact quote): When there are two, truth begins. Most of all, let us be kind to one another. If we are alone in the Cosmos, we are alone together.
Musings 1991
The vast reaches of our universe overpower the most fertile imaginations. In October, a news story reported the discovery of the largest galaxy: Abell 2029 has more than 100 trillion stars, dwarfing “our” Milky Way galaxy which has “only” about 3 billion stars. Abell 2029 is a cluster of about 1000 galaxies, each with billions of stars. Abell 2029 is about one billion light-years away. In one of our calendar years, a light-year travels 5.89 trillion miles. One billion multiplied by nearly 6 trillion!! Can you honestly say that you comprehend that mathematical stunner? I can’t. Our Sun is a glowing mass that lights, feeds and warms our planet Earth. The Sun is a star so bright we can only for a moment gaze at it directly. Can you grasp at all that there are trillions of stars like our Sun?
In COSMOS, Carl Sagan wrote that our Sun is eight light-minutes distant. A “near” star, Beta Andromeda is 75 light-years from us. If it blew itself up, we would not know for 75 years. Should we receive a message from a planet in a distant solar system, it is possible that the life form that sent it will have been extinct for millions of years by the time the message reaches Earth. Similarly, if Voyagers I and II are interpreted by another life form, thousands or millions of light-years hence, our civilization will have been extinct and our planet a cinder or cloud of gas for millions of years by that time. The discovery of Abell 2029 informs the astro-physicists and astronomers of what these billions of stars were a billion years ago. What may have happened in a billion years? Are such times and distances within the capacity of the human mind?
Present scientific thought places the origin of the universe, the Big Bang, 10 to 20 billions of years ago. Perhaps accepted theories of “how” may develop. But I submit to you that there may never be a widely acceptable answer to “Why?” there was a Big Bang at all. Why is there something rather than nothing? I guess I have quoted J.B.S. Haldane to about everyone I know, “The universe is not only queerer than you suppose; it is queerer than you CAN suppose.”
I remember a cartoon showing a bear emerging from hibernation in Spring, looking at the green leaves and buds, saying, “Some year I'm going to stay up and see how those leaves get back on the trees.” I have a hunch like that about the universe. There may be a gap in our knowledge and methods, leaving us ignorant of some astonishing, amazing process (reality, force, perception) of which, perhaps, we can never know, let alone understand.
After all, isn’t it true that we have imposed our human dimensions and perceptions on the universe? Math, astronomy, optics, telemetry, Red Shift, and all the other tools of science assumptions are learnings, definitions, and conclusions acquired in human history. However challenging, persuasive, winsome, or comforting scientific research may be, it is an achievement of men and women on planet Earth. There is no evidence that if there are life forms on distant planets that their scientific ways are those tracked out for us here by Pythagoras, Euclid, Galileo, Einstein, Hawking, and the multitudes of others who have established, refined, experimented, and enlarged our knowledge. Perhaps in the unreachable depths of space, some beings communicate by singing, as do our great ocean creatures, the whales, or by dancing messages as a swarm of bees. Nietzsche once wrote, “... physics, too, is only an interpretation of the world and an arrangement of it (to suit ourselves, if I may say so!) and not an explanation.”
But the arduous difficulty of mentally comprehending the mystery does not preclude the feelings of awe and wonder as we bask in the Sun’s warmth or behold the beauty of the heavens on a clear, star-gemmed night. Sara Teasdale had poetic lines:
“And I know that I
am honored to be
Witness of so much
Majesty.”
The poet capitalizes “Majesty” – awarding, presumably, Divinity to the beautiful skyscape. For me, the lines are aesthetic, not theological. The theologues have posited a Creator who was First Cause or Uncaused Cause. Uncaused Cause is a leap of faith, but grammatically it is an oxymoron. Theologians, most of them, proclaim an additional assumption that this Creator has a singular devotion to the humans on this planet, providing them with the assurance of salvation upon performance of rites, testimonies, repentance, sacrifice, belief, or sacraments.
I have no quarrel with the vast majority of persons who make this leap of faith. Faith, by definition, is belief without convincing evidence for its truth. Faith is not fact. Otherwise, why so many different faiths? Persons are inspired, comforted, freed from fear, or solaced in hardship by believing that God will “wipe away the tears.” If you have that religious trust, my agnostic inquiries will not weaken your faith. But, as one of a tiny minority, I perceive formidable obstacles to holding such a faith.
First, there is not much that convinces me that a God, Creator, Allah, Yahveh, Trinity, Force (insert your own name for it) has any unique or special interest in humans on planet Earth. One is saved from earthquake, volcanic eruption, flood, hurricane, plague, drought by luck and human skill, not divine intervention. When survivors of a disaster thank God for being saved when many others, equally innocent, perish, the testimony is questionable. “The rain falls on the just and unjust.” The Management of events is impersonal or non-personal. “Management” is a term a writer recently used because the usual names for the forces that seem to prevail in the universe are too faith-bound. But “Management” is just as culture-bound as any other name; and raises the same questions. What Board of Trustees appointed “The MANAGEMENT?”
My second heretical question is, why planet Earth should be singled out as the scene for God’s Salvation Scheme? Earth is a single drop in a Pacific Ocean of galaxies, solar systems, planets, satellites. Where is the evidence or reason that this planet and its people have been awarded special status? With the usual acid mixed with with his ink, H. L. Mencken wrote, “The cosmos is a gigantic fly-wheel making 10,000 revolutions a minute. Man is a sick fly taking a dizzy ride on it. Religion is the theory that the wheel was designed and set spinning to give him a ride.” (quoted PORTABLE CURMUDGEON) I hope I’m not as biting as Mencken, although there are those who tell me I’m well on the way to the curmudgeon class. But I am persuaded that “Special Divine Choosing” for the human beings on our planet is anthropocentric arrogance.
Do these observations indicate that I do not hold human life of worth? Quite the contrary. We are here; we are here on this planet; we must live together or die together. We need no Bible or Koran to convince us that freedom ennobles, that the boundaries of human justice must widen, that children are precious, that human hunger needs to be fed, that illness needs skilled, tender care, that governments and bureaucracies can be disciplined IF enough of us insist, that human love is fulfilling and self-justifying whether or not it has any “divine” links. If there is another life, prepare for it by being responsible here. If there is no other life, live this one well.
One final disclaimer: I freely acknowledge that what is factual and reasonable to me may be dreary theory for you – and conversely. So let us share our fears and hopes. Paraphrasing Nietzsche (I cannot locate the exact quote): When there are two, truth begins. Most of all, let us be kind to one another. If we are alone in the Cosmos, we are alone together.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
On Hating Or Not Hating A Thief
December 1990
Musings 1991
In the Oxford Annotated Bible, Revised Standard Version, Proverbs 6, verses 30-31 read, “Do not men despise a thief if he steals to satisfy his appetite when he is hungry? And if he is caught, he will pay sevenfold; he will give all the goods of his house.” There is a footnote on verse 30. “Or, men do not despise a thief.” The King James version reads, “Men do not despise a thief, etc.” The Moffatt translation is, “Men do not let off a thief, etc.”
Well, which is it – men do or do not despise a thief? Fundamentalists insist that the Bible is without any error. How, then, do they resolve this contradiction? In my annotated Bible there is an abundance of footnotes which state, “meaning of Hebrew word uncertain.” When scholars of Hebrew disagree on translation and admit ignorance or ambiguity, how does the fundamentalist believer in inerrancy handle the dilemma? To suit his theology, convenience, or a particular Sunday sermon?
Beyond uncertain Biblical pronouncements, an intelligible question is raised. If a family is starving, is a parent, son, or daughter to be despised for stealing a loaf of bread? In Hugo’s novel, now a superb theatrical event, “Les Miserables,” Jean Valjean is sentenced to twenty years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread – and Jean is the hero of the story. The Law, in the person of the implacable, unrelenting Javert, commits suicide when he cannot reconcile enforcing the letter of the law with his life being saved by Jean Valjean.
Note also that the Proverb we are discussing does not ignore punishment. But it is not execution, imprisonment, whipping or severing the hand of the thief. Historian Arthur Bryant writes that in 17th century England, more than one hundred fifty crimes were punishable by death. The ancient Proverb is gentler. The thief owes payment sevenfold and the goods of his house. When one is reduced to stealing bread, there cannot be much left in the house.
Ask yourself, if you and your family were starving, would you steal bread? (Assuming no other resources – friends, welfare, soup kitchens, charitable institutions). I would. This question has arisen in casual conversations through the years. The answer is always the same: “YES!!”
There is an alternative: Construct a basic economic floor through which no one could fall. Food, shelter, medical care would be the foundation. Then, to your heart's content, debate capitalism, communism, free enterprise, socialism, or whatever other abstract economic system currently appeals to your needs, fancies, or ambitions.
Musings 1991
In the Oxford Annotated Bible, Revised Standard Version, Proverbs 6, verses 30-31 read, “Do not men despise a thief if he steals to satisfy his appetite when he is hungry? And if he is caught, he will pay sevenfold; he will give all the goods of his house.” There is a footnote on verse 30. “Or, men do not despise a thief.” The King James version reads, “Men do not despise a thief, etc.” The Moffatt translation is, “Men do not let off a thief, etc.”
Well, which is it – men do or do not despise a thief? Fundamentalists insist that the Bible is without any error. How, then, do they resolve this contradiction? In my annotated Bible there is an abundance of footnotes which state, “meaning of Hebrew word uncertain.” When scholars of Hebrew disagree on translation and admit ignorance or ambiguity, how does the fundamentalist believer in inerrancy handle the dilemma? To suit his theology, convenience, or a particular Sunday sermon?
Beyond uncertain Biblical pronouncements, an intelligible question is raised. If a family is starving, is a parent, son, or daughter to be despised for stealing a loaf of bread? In Hugo’s novel, now a superb theatrical event, “Les Miserables,” Jean Valjean is sentenced to twenty years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread – and Jean is the hero of the story. The Law, in the person of the implacable, unrelenting Javert, commits suicide when he cannot reconcile enforcing the letter of the law with his life being saved by Jean Valjean.
Note also that the Proverb we are discussing does not ignore punishment. But it is not execution, imprisonment, whipping or severing the hand of the thief. Historian Arthur Bryant writes that in 17th century England, more than one hundred fifty crimes were punishable by death. The ancient Proverb is gentler. The thief owes payment sevenfold and the goods of his house. When one is reduced to stealing bread, there cannot be much left in the house.
Ask yourself, if you and your family were starving, would you steal bread? (Assuming no other resources – friends, welfare, soup kitchens, charitable institutions). I would. This question has arisen in casual conversations through the years. The answer is always the same: “YES!!”
There is an alternative: Construct a basic economic floor through which no one could fall. Food, shelter, medical care would be the foundation. Then, to your heart's content, debate capitalism, communism, free enterprise, socialism, or whatever other abstract economic system currently appeals to your needs, fancies, or ambitions.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Slanguage And Quirks In The King’s English
November 1990
Musings 1991
My readers probably think that I OD on vignettes and persons of English history – an observation I cannot refute. I do have an affectionate attitude toward the U.K. and am a little sad that the relationship of the American dollar to the British pound probably precludes a fourth visit.
Three slanguage stimuli provoke my meditative gnawings on words and phrases:
1) The hilarious (to us) of the phrase for awakening guests.
2) A book given to me by John and Renee.
3) The Elephant and Castle.
(Let me inject that I feel no condescension in these observations. Our American slang is just as amusing and confusing to the Brits as theirs is to us. English is our Mother Tongue and one does have both love and respect for one's parent along with accepting differences.)
1) Numbers of Yanks have chuckled or leered at the British phrase for a morning wake-up call: “What time shall I knock you up in the morning?” In the U.S., as Norman Schur puts it, “knock up” is “an indelicate expression for getting a lady in a delicate condition.” Another British usage for the expression is, “I’m quite knocked up,” meaning all tired out, physically or emotionally.
2) BRITISH ENGLISH A TO ZED, Norman W. Schur, lives up to the jacket blurb, “wickedly witty and eminently useful collection of nearly 5000 Briticisms...”
Examples:
bumble – A pompous bureaucrat, frequently a clerk
bum-freezer – a short jacket
de-bus – get out of an automobile
the never-never – pay on installment plan
night on the tiles – night on the town
(the) Old Bill – (the) Cops
toad in the hole – sausage in batter
all my eye and Betty Martin – hogwash, baloney
tupenny one – sock in the jaw
wowser – fanatic puritan, spoilsport
yobbo – lout, bum
zebra – pedestrian crossing
Schur’s book also gives derivations of the expressions. I strongly recommend the book be with you as you board for Heathrow or Gatwick.
3) Elephant and Castle. This is a stop on the underground (tube). It is also a well-known pub which I missed. I speculated that maybe in the days of the British Empire, some nabob of the East India Co. returned wealthy, bringing an elephant to roam his castle grounds. I could not have been more wrong.
One of England’s more beloved Queens, the beautiful Eleanor of Castile, was the first wife of the warrior-king, Edward I (1239-1307), who was constantly at war with Scotland, Wales, and France. He captured the Stone of Scone, which is still beneath the Coronation Throne in Westminster Abbey. But his remarkable life is not the focus here.
Eleanor of Castile traveled with him on his campaigns giving birth to 15, perhaps 17, children. In 1290, she died in Nottinghamshire. The funeral cortege to London was solemn and memorable. Each time the procession stopped for the night, Edward I erected an “Eleanor Cross” in her memory.
In Chester, an “Eleanor Cross” was pointed out to me. Later in my reading I learned that this was not the original. Of the 12 crosses erected, only three are original. Even the most famous, Charing Cross, is a reproduction.
Eleanor was also known by her Spanish title, “Infanta of Castile.” It is from this title that “Elephant and Castle” is derived. Thus the transformation (how many centuries did it take?) from accuracy to idiom.
But these comments are not intended to demean, but enhance the lore, lure, and love of our English language. Quite apart from Briticisms, how much we owe to our Mother Tongue! Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Locke, Wordsworth, Auden, Yeats, Churchill are but brief tastings of our heritage of story, drama, poetry, rhetoric and song.
The heritage migrated here. The Declaration of Independence and the Gettysburg Address are but two shining examples of innumerable inspirational words written by descendants of the English.
The written and spoken word may be the prime distinction between humans and other creatures. Be glad that we have these treasures.
Musings 1991
My readers probably think that I OD on vignettes and persons of English history – an observation I cannot refute. I do have an affectionate attitude toward the U.K. and am a little sad that the relationship of the American dollar to the British pound probably precludes a fourth visit.
Three slanguage stimuli provoke my meditative gnawings on words and phrases:
1) The hilarious (to us) of the phrase for awakening guests.
2) A book given to me by John and Renee.
3) The Elephant and Castle.
(Let me inject that I feel no condescension in these observations. Our American slang is just as amusing and confusing to the Brits as theirs is to us. English is our Mother Tongue and one does have both love and respect for one's parent along with accepting differences.)
1) Numbers of Yanks have chuckled or leered at the British phrase for a morning wake-up call: “What time shall I knock you up in the morning?” In the U.S., as Norman Schur puts it, “knock up” is “an indelicate expression for getting a lady in a delicate condition.” Another British usage for the expression is, “I’m quite knocked up,” meaning all tired out, physically or emotionally.
2) BRITISH ENGLISH A TO ZED, Norman W. Schur, lives up to the jacket blurb, “wickedly witty and eminently useful collection of nearly 5000 Briticisms...”
Examples:
bumble – A pompous bureaucrat, frequently a clerk
bum-freezer – a short jacket
de-bus – get out of an automobile
the never-never – pay on installment plan
night on the tiles – night on the town
(the) Old Bill – (the) Cops
toad in the hole – sausage in batter
all my eye and Betty Martin – hogwash, baloney
tupenny one – sock in the jaw
wowser – fanatic puritan, spoilsport
yobbo – lout, bum
zebra – pedestrian crossing
Schur’s book also gives derivations of the expressions. I strongly recommend the book be with you as you board for Heathrow or Gatwick.
3) Elephant and Castle. This is a stop on the underground (tube). It is also a well-known pub which I missed. I speculated that maybe in the days of the British Empire, some nabob of the East India Co. returned wealthy, bringing an elephant to roam his castle grounds. I could not have been more wrong.
One of England’s more beloved Queens, the beautiful Eleanor of Castile, was the first wife of the warrior-king, Edward I (1239-1307), who was constantly at war with Scotland, Wales, and France. He captured the Stone of Scone, which is still beneath the Coronation Throne in Westminster Abbey. But his remarkable life is not the focus here.
Eleanor of Castile traveled with him on his campaigns giving birth to 15, perhaps 17, children. In 1290, she died in Nottinghamshire. The funeral cortege to London was solemn and memorable. Each time the procession stopped for the night, Edward I erected an “Eleanor Cross” in her memory.
In Chester, an “Eleanor Cross” was pointed out to me. Later in my reading I learned that this was not the original. Of the 12 crosses erected, only three are original. Even the most famous, Charing Cross, is a reproduction.
Eleanor was also known by her Spanish title, “Infanta of Castile.” It is from this title that “Elephant and Castle” is derived. Thus the transformation (how many centuries did it take?) from accuracy to idiom.
But these comments are not intended to demean, but enhance the lore, lure, and love of our English language. Quite apart from Briticisms, how much we owe to our Mother Tongue! Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Locke, Wordsworth, Auden, Yeats, Churchill are but brief tastings of our heritage of story, drama, poetry, rhetoric and song.
The heritage migrated here. The Declaration of Independence and the Gettysburg Address are but two shining examples of innumerable inspirational words written by descendants of the English.
The written and spoken word may be the prime distinction between humans and other creatures. Be glad that we have these treasures.
Friday, February 19, 2010
The Sporting Life
November 1990
Musings 1991
When the above news item [article, “Club pays hookers to entertain refs”] appeared in the Tampa Tribune, Oct. 31, 1990, my somewhat uncouth mind generated a few idle questions and cynical musings:
[Quoted from article:] “You have to look after your guests properly.” Properly? Improperly is more to the point, is it not?
A Henny Youngman one-liner: “A playgirl is a girl that’s game – everybody’s.”
This item gives wider meaning to “sports”, does it not? The connection is not new, but seldom so publicly acknowledged.
Will not every soccer referee have a suspicious wife? She may socc him.
When the marching band parades on the football field at the half, will part of the brass section be replaced by strumpets?
Are we going to be a bit embarrassed to use such familiar words in sports as tailback, relief pitcher, safeties, split end, bullpen, clipping, touchback, welcome to the pros, putting the story to bed?
[Quoted from article:] “[It] happens everywhere”: Are there referees who have been blackmailed into “bad” calls because they were filmed on a “good” night with a call girl?
Ala Aesop, the moral is don’t bet on sports events unless you have an inside tip on who was the designated hitter (the night before).
Quite aside from such trifling comments, did it ever occur to you that the prostitute is blamed, but not the customer? One reads of many prostitutes being arrested, but how often is her customer nabbed by the law? Once in a while, but infrequently, in a raid on a brothel the customer's names are published. But when are they jailed or fined? I give you an iron law of cause and effect – if there were no customers, there would be no prostitutes.
There have always been prostitutes; there have always been customers. Whether one attributes prostitution to inescapable, rascally biological male impulses, or some inevitable social or cultural condition, why blame the woman who sells, more than the man who buys? But society does blame the woman. Why? You may think of more and sounder reasons and causes, but consider (historically and currently):
Law-givers and law-enforcers have been male.
Moral exhorters and moral condemners (clergy, mostly) have been male.
History has been written by males.
Power has been wielded by males – church, state, home, occupation, media.
Women have been considered subordinate creatures in law and government. Do you not consider it both astonishing and revealing that in this U.S.A., “land of the free,” women had no vote until 1920, a year in the lifetime of many of us?
Things are changing – “You’ve come a long way, baby.” But the very phrasing of that condescending cliche indicates there’s a much longer distance to go.
So don’t come to me cursing a hooker unless you are equally profane about the buyer of her body and her dignity.
Musings 1991
When the above news item [article, “Club pays hookers to entertain refs”] appeared in the Tampa Tribune, Oct. 31, 1990, my somewhat uncouth mind generated a few idle questions and cynical musings:
[Quoted from article:] “You have to look after your guests properly.” Properly? Improperly is more to the point, is it not?
A Henny Youngman one-liner: “A playgirl is a girl that’s game – everybody’s.”
This item gives wider meaning to “sports”, does it not? The connection is not new, but seldom so publicly acknowledged.
Will not every soccer referee have a suspicious wife? She may socc him.
When the marching band parades on the football field at the half, will part of the brass section be replaced by strumpets?
Are we going to be a bit embarrassed to use such familiar words in sports as tailback, relief pitcher, safeties, split end, bullpen, clipping, touchback, welcome to the pros, putting the story to bed?
[Quoted from article:] “[It] happens everywhere”: Are there referees who have been blackmailed into “bad” calls because they were filmed on a “good” night with a call girl?
Ala Aesop, the moral is don’t bet on sports events unless you have an inside tip on who was the designated hitter (the night before).
Quite aside from such trifling comments, did it ever occur to you that the prostitute is blamed, but not the customer? One reads of many prostitutes being arrested, but how often is her customer nabbed by the law? Once in a while, but infrequently, in a raid on a brothel the customer's names are published. But when are they jailed or fined? I give you an iron law of cause and effect – if there were no customers, there would be no prostitutes.
There have always been prostitutes; there have always been customers. Whether one attributes prostitution to inescapable, rascally biological male impulses, or some inevitable social or cultural condition, why blame the woman who sells, more than the man who buys? But society does blame the woman. Why? You may think of more and sounder reasons and causes, but consider (historically and currently):
Law-givers and law-enforcers have been male.
Moral exhorters and moral condemners (clergy, mostly) have been male.
History has been written by males.
Power has been wielded by males – church, state, home, occupation, media.
Women have been considered subordinate creatures in law and government. Do you not consider it both astonishing and revealing that in this U.S.A., “land of the free,” women had no vote until 1920, a year in the lifetime of many of us?
Things are changing – “You’ve come a long way, baby.” But the very phrasing of that condescending cliche indicates there’s a much longer distance to go.
So don’t come to me cursing a hooker unless you are equally profane about the buyer of her body and her dignity.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Murder In The Cathedral – Law In The Land
November, 1990
Musings 1991
In a prior “musing”, I noted parenthetically that Henry II deserved more praise than the sainted Thomas á Becket. T. S. Eliot’s drama focused on Becket’s martyrdom, neglecting many of the conflicts which led up to it. That is not to criticize Eliot, because to thus narrow the focus was good theater. Ackroyd, Eliot’s biographer, believed that in this drama, Eliot combined his faith with his poetry. Eliot’s use of The Tempters was a scintillating dramatic device to show the turbulent and anxious ambivalence of Becket’s mind as he contemplated his coming death.
Not so many years ago I stood at the stone slab in Canterbury Cathedral, at the spot where Becket was killed. That experience has remained with me; motivating much reading about the tangled historical conflicts that seethed in the rush of events that led to December 29, 1170, when four Knights killed Becket, believing that they were carrying out the wishes of King Henry II. They were not goons or hitmen; they were distinguished Barons acting for King and Country, or so they were convinced.
Thomas Becket was canonized a saint in 1173, less than three years after his death. As an aside, it is worth noting that Joan of Arc was canonized in 1920, 489 years after she was burned at the stake as an heretic. But the Maid of Orleans was a French patriot, loyal to her “voices,” her King and her Country; not to the Pope at Rome.
The shrine of Thomas Becket soon became famous. Pilgrims journeyed from near and far to seek miracles or offer penitential or petitionary prayers.. Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales” imperishably relates the marvelous “mix” of persons of different classes and character who made the PILGRIMAGE. Most of them brought gifts – gold, silver, jewels. In the course of more than three-hundred years, vast wealth accumulated at Becket’s shrine. When King Henry VIII repudiated the Pope because he would not grant a divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII named himself as Head of the Church in England. He seized and kept or distributed the vast treasure at Becket’s shrine, as well as confiscating the huge estates and wealth which had belonged to the Roman Catholic Church.
The conflict of authority that led to Murder in the Cathedral sifts down to this: Was the Pope supreme over both Church and State? The idea of Papal theocracy had been contentious for centuries before the time of Becket and Henry II. Briefly, and too simplistically, the Papal claim was that the Emperor or King had to act as the secular, enforcing arm of Papal supremacy. The King or Emperor thus was required to carry out Papal orders. Seldom did this prevail, however, as various Kings and Emperors manipulated the Papacy through war and politics, even at times naming who the next Pope would be.
But the Papal claim had, and has always, been disputed. There have been “False Decretals” (forgeries) which claimed this Papal authority from the most ancient of Christian centuries – a false claim. More convincingly, such Christian Emperors as Constantine (belatedly Christian), Justinian, and Charlemagne claimed their sovereignty was directly from God, not brokered by the Pope. The “Divine Right of Kings” was not a dispensation to be made or removed by the Pope.
Through the first 14 or 15 “Christian” centuries, this conflict of authority heated up or cooled down, usually depending on whether a given Pope was strong and forceful, such as Pope Gregory VII (Hildebrand). In 1302, a century and a half after the fatal day at Canterbury, Pope Boniface VIII (Bernard Gaetani) issued the Papal Bull of Unam sanctam, declaring absolute submission to papal authority was essential to salvation. King and Emperor were ordered never to use their temporal power to clash with the purposes of the Church, as these purposes were issued by the Pope. Unam sanctam made the claim, but did not become practice, as the tormented papacy of Boniface VIII attests. But that is another story.
In the 12th century, Becket and Henry II were the personifications of the warring jurisdictions – King and Country vis-a-vis Pope, bishops, priests, and clerks. The Pope Alexander III (Roland Bandinelli) was in a dilemma because he had the problem, not uncommon in those centuries, of an Anti-Pope. More accurately, perhaps, there were two Popes, each claiming the throne of St. Peter’s at Rome. If Alexander was too clear, too decisive, too aggressive in his support of Becket, then Henry II might transfer his allegiance, power, and armies to the “Anti-Pope”. (Did you think ambiguous political stands were unique to our day?)
Three events were catalytic in causing the inevitable march of events that led to that fatal December day in the Cathedral (although there were numerous other pressures and disagreements):
1) The stunning character shift in Thomas Becket when he became Archbishop of Canterbury.
2) The Constitutions of Clarendon.
3) The coronation of the son of King Henry II.
1) Thomas was an archdeacon in the Church when young King Henry II made Becket Chancellor of the Kingdom. This was a most important appointment, because the Chancellor controlled much power and wealth and was responsible only to the King. The King and Becket were close. They dined, hunted, drank together. No one had more access to the King. One historian noted that the relationship was like unto that of Joseph and Pharaoh. Henry II so trusted Becket that Henry pulled the strings of royal power, manipulated, and pressured the Bishops and the Monks of Canterbury to ensure Becket’s election as Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of England. There were protests, but the will of Henry II was not to be denied. Thomas Becket was ordained a priest on June 2, 1154 and consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury the following day.
The advantages for Henry II seemed obvious. The concentration of offices of King’s Chancellor and Archbishop of Canterbury could only augment his power. The pleasure-loving Becket, who had so relished the wealth, luxury and high-living which came with being Chancellor, then shocked and enraged the King by resigning the Chancellorship. Becket had himself secretly sewn into a hair shirt with an opening in the back for self-flagellation. When his clothing was removed at his death, the unwashed hair shirt was filthy with vermin.
Why? There have been many opinions without convincing conclusions. Did he experience a religious conversion when consecrated an Archbishop? Had pleasure-loving Thomas been a secret ascetic? Was he a superb actor who played every position as a role acted to the hilt? Had he been false to Henry II because he had showed outward loyalty to the King but secretly his prime allegiance was to Rome? Who knows; I do not. Perhaps, simply, he was a masochist. The historians have spun out theories, but the threads of their evidence are weak. What is clear is that the relationship of Thomas and Henry II could never be restored.
2) The Constitutions of Clarendon were another milestone on the Road to Canterbury. On January 13, 1164, two contending parties met: Bishops opposed to King Henry II and his Barons. The most important among many points of intense dispute was that alleged crimes by clergy and clerks would be dealt with in the King’s Courts, not the Church. Heretofore, the clergy, including the numerous clerks who had been educated in the Church could not be tried in the Civil Courts. This “benefit of Clergy” applied to students, even, as one historian put it, applying to anyone who had “a smattering of Latin.”
Other provisions included a clause that no archbishop, bishop or clergy could leave the Kingdom without the King’s permission. No one could be excommunicated without first application to the King. There were a total of 16 provisions. After strong opposition, Thomas Becket gave way and assented to the King’s demands. His fellow-bishops were ordered to acquiesce, and they did. Henry II claimed precedence from pre-conquest days for these articles, although as one might surmise this was and is strongly disputed. But as Becket's biographer, Knowles, puts it, “the real conflict...(was) between two conceptions of Church and Monarchy.”
Thomas had second thoughts about assenting to the provisions, and begged the Pope for absolution. Thomas attempted to cross the Channel in violation of one of the provisions, but failed. Then ensued about six months of tense events too numerous to list. Then in November, 1164, under cover of a storm, he escaped to France, where he was to remain in exile for six years. Controversy raged, centering on the exiled Thomas, King Henry II, and the Pope. There were many efforts to effect a reconciliation between King Henry II and Becket. But hostility prevailed, and no serious compromise accepted. Thomas excommunicated English bishops who sided with the King with no lasting effect. Pope Alexander III offered a compromise which would have restored Becket to Canterbury. But this was of little influence because of another serious quarrel between Becket and Henry II.
3) Henry II announced that his son, another Henry, would be crowned, a tradition of designating a successor. Pope Alexander had reserved the power of Coronation for the Archbishop of Canterbury, but Henry II designated the Archbishop of York to confer coronation, not the exiled Thomas, thus deepening the chasm between two headstrong men. The coronation took place with the Archbishop of York presiding, with almost all the English and Welsh bishops present.
Then, a seeming peace occurred, although the resolution of disputed property claims between Becket and Henry II remained ambiguous and undecided. Most issues were unresolved, but Thomas decided to return to England and Canterbury. He arrived with a splendid entourage and eager crowds pleaded for his blessing. At Canterbury he was greeted by a large and jubilant crowd. But Thomas was still unrelenting in his condemnation of the King, charging misuse of Canterbury wealth and properties.
King Henry II and his Barons could no longer endure Thomas. No one will ever know with certainty whether King Henry II ordered Becket killed or whether he was to be imprisoned. The King was certainly furious, and his hot words were sufficient warrant for the Knights to invade Canterbury Cathedral and, with their swords, martyr Thomas Becket.
If you have a taste for history, you may have read this far, and begun to wonder why I noted that King Henry II was more to be praised than Becket. Henry II seemingly (and perhaps for political reasons) accepted responsibility for the murder in the Cathedral, because he made a penitential pilgrimage where he endured seven lashes each from 100 monks, a beating which would have killed or permanently crippled most men. But Henry stood up, walked to his horse and rode away. He was physically strong, like most of the Plantagenets, possessing as well great stamina and determination.
If you are turned off because of political murders, or for that matter, willful killing, you would have to include most monarchs of medieval, renaissance and Reformation eras in your revulsion. Henry II was the first of the Plantagenet line, also known as the Angevins. That line kept power until Richard III was killed at the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). This began the line of Tudor Kings, as the winner, Henry Tudor, the Welshman, assumed the crown as Henry VII. The Tudors were no saints. Witness Henry VIII and his readiness to order beheadings, just as one example. But also one must remember that his daughter was one of the greatest of English monarchs, Elizabeth I.
Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine when he was nineteen and she thirty-one years old. She had been divorced from King Louis VII of France, by whom she had two daughters. Her marriage to Henry II brought him sovereignty over large areas of France. The marriage was stormy, yet productive. In their first six years of marriage, five children were born, 4 of them boys. They had a total of eight children, two of them to become Kings of England – Richard the Lionheart, and John of Magna Carta fame. Henry, the eldest, the crown designate, died while Henry II was still alive.
When, years later, the King discovered that Eleanor was plotting to have Richard replace him, Henry imprisoned Eleanor for sixteen years in Winchester. Richard left for foreign parts, as a crusader, as a prisoner in Europe and, on his father's death, King of England. Richard was a strong, brave and skilled warrior, but he was by no means the glorified hero Walter Scott created in IVANHOE.
All these famous or notorious ones were men and women of their time – ruthless power-seekers few would admire today. But one has some obligation to view them as part of the web and woof of their times, not ours.
Henry II, crowned in 1154, reigned for thirty-five years. His constant goal was to increase the power of the monarch vis-a-vis the feudal lords and the Church. He established kingly courts, where itinerant judges, responsible to him and not the feudal lords, adjudicated disputes and tried cases.
Henry II established Common Law in England, where precedents of former cases were used to guide legal decisions as well as statutory law. This English Common Law we have inherited. By common agreement it is a superior system of justice than reliance on statutory law or Napoleonic Code still prevailing in some European countries.
Henry II strengthened the jury system. Under his reign, the jury was drawn not only from the Knightly class but also from small landholders and representatives from the villages. Claims were subject to the weighing of evidence by people of the neighborhood.
Although Henry II had to relax enforcing of provisions of the Constitutions of Clarendon after Becket’s murder, the system did grow to the end that eventually the religious hierarchy could no longer have “the benefit of clergy” to exempt their bishops, priests, monks and numerous “clerks” from trial in the civil and criminal courts.
All these legal institutions gathered strength through the turmoil of centuries. The Puritans who came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony and the aristocrats who settled Virginia and Maryland both brought with them the English Common Law and trial by a jury of one’s peers. We may well be grateful for that system and to Henry II, whatever his motives, for being such a substantial figure in their growth.
All these observations just to make my point that Henry II is more to be praised than “Saint” Thomas á Becket, whether you might consider the founding Plantagenet a man you love to hate or a man you hate to love.
Musings 1991
In a prior “musing”, I noted parenthetically that Henry II deserved more praise than the sainted Thomas á Becket. T. S. Eliot’s drama focused on Becket’s martyrdom, neglecting many of the conflicts which led up to it. That is not to criticize Eliot, because to thus narrow the focus was good theater. Ackroyd, Eliot’s biographer, believed that in this drama, Eliot combined his faith with his poetry. Eliot’s use of The Tempters was a scintillating dramatic device to show the turbulent and anxious ambivalence of Becket’s mind as he contemplated his coming death.
Not so many years ago I stood at the stone slab in Canterbury Cathedral, at the spot where Becket was killed. That experience has remained with me; motivating much reading about the tangled historical conflicts that seethed in the rush of events that led to December 29, 1170, when four Knights killed Becket, believing that they were carrying out the wishes of King Henry II. They were not goons or hitmen; they were distinguished Barons acting for King and Country, or so they were convinced.
Thomas Becket was canonized a saint in 1173, less than three years after his death. As an aside, it is worth noting that Joan of Arc was canonized in 1920, 489 years after she was burned at the stake as an heretic. But the Maid of Orleans was a French patriot, loyal to her “voices,” her King and her Country; not to the Pope at Rome.
The shrine of Thomas Becket soon became famous. Pilgrims journeyed from near and far to seek miracles or offer penitential or petitionary prayers.. Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales” imperishably relates the marvelous “mix” of persons of different classes and character who made the PILGRIMAGE. Most of them brought gifts – gold, silver, jewels. In the course of more than three-hundred years, vast wealth accumulated at Becket’s shrine. When King Henry VIII repudiated the Pope because he would not grant a divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII named himself as Head of the Church in England. He seized and kept or distributed the vast treasure at Becket’s shrine, as well as confiscating the huge estates and wealth which had belonged to the Roman Catholic Church.
The conflict of authority that led to Murder in the Cathedral sifts down to this: Was the Pope supreme over both Church and State? The idea of Papal theocracy had been contentious for centuries before the time of Becket and Henry II. Briefly, and too simplistically, the Papal claim was that the Emperor or King had to act as the secular, enforcing arm of Papal supremacy. The King or Emperor thus was required to carry out Papal orders. Seldom did this prevail, however, as various Kings and Emperors manipulated the Papacy through war and politics, even at times naming who the next Pope would be.
But the Papal claim had, and has always, been disputed. There have been “False Decretals” (forgeries) which claimed this Papal authority from the most ancient of Christian centuries – a false claim. More convincingly, such Christian Emperors as Constantine (belatedly Christian), Justinian, and Charlemagne claimed their sovereignty was directly from God, not brokered by the Pope. The “Divine Right of Kings” was not a dispensation to be made or removed by the Pope.
Through the first 14 or 15 “Christian” centuries, this conflict of authority heated up or cooled down, usually depending on whether a given Pope was strong and forceful, such as Pope Gregory VII (Hildebrand). In 1302, a century and a half after the fatal day at Canterbury, Pope Boniface VIII (Bernard Gaetani) issued the Papal Bull of Unam sanctam, declaring absolute submission to papal authority was essential to salvation. King and Emperor were ordered never to use their temporal power to clash with the purposes of the Church, as these purposes were issued by the Pope. Unam sanctam made the claim, but did not become practice, as the tormented papacy of Boniface VIII attests. But that is another story.
In the 12th century, Becket and Henry II were the personifications of the warring jurisdictions – King and Country vis-a-vis Pope, bishops, priests, and clerks. The Pope Alexander III (Roland Bandinelli) was in a dilemma because he had the problem, not uncommon in those centuries, of an Anti-Pope. More accurately, perhaps, there were two Popes, each claiming the throne of St. Peter’s at Rome. If Alexander was too clear, too decisive, too aggressive in his support of Becket, then Henry II might transfer his allegiance, power, and armies to the “Anti-Pope”. (Did you think ambiguous political stands were unique to our day?)
Three events were catalytic in causing the inevitable march of events that led to that fatal December day in the Cathedral (although there were numerous other pressures and disagreements):
1) The stunning character shift in Thomas Becket when he became Archbishop of Canterbury.
2) The Constitutions of Clarendon.
3) The coronation of the son of King Henry II.
1) Thomas was an archdeacon in the Church when young King Henry II made Becket Chancellor of the Kingdom. This was a most important appointment, because the Chancellor controlled much power and wealth and was responsible only to the King. The King and Becket were close. They dined, hunted, drank together. No one had more access to the King. One historian noted that the relationship was like unto that of Joseph and Pharaoh. Henry II so trusted Becket that Henry pulled the strings of royal power, manipulated, and pressured the Bishops and the Monks of Canterbury to ensure Becket’s election as Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of England. There were protests, but the will of Henry II was not to be denied. Thomas Becket was ordained a priest on June 2, 1154 and consecrated as Archbishop of Canterbury the following day.
The advantages for Henry II seemed obvious. The concentration of offices of King’s Chancellor and Archbishop of Canterbury could only augment his power. The pleasure-loving Becket, who had so relished the wealth, luxury and high-living which came with being Chancellor, then shocked and enraged the King by resigning the Chancellorship. Becket had himself secretly sewn into a hair shirt with an opening in the back for self-flagellation. When his clothing was removed at his death, the unwashed hair shirt was filthy with vermin.
Why? There have been many opinions without convincing conclusions. Did he experience a religious conversion when consecrated an Archbishop? Had pleasure-loving Thomas been a secret ascetic? Was he a superb actor who played every position as a role acted to the hilt? Had he been false to Henry II because he had showed outward loyalty to the King but secretly his prime allegiance was to Rome? Who knows; I do not. Perhaps, simply, he was a masochist. The historians have spun out theories, but the threads of their evidence are weak. What is clear is that the relationship of Thomas and Henry II could never be restored.
2) The Constitutions of Clarendon were another milestone on the Road to Canterbury. On January 13, 1164, two contending parties met: Bishops opposed to King Henry II and his Barons. The most important among many points of intense dispute was that alleged crimes by clergy and clerks would be dealt with in the King’s Courts, not the Church. Heretofore, the clergy, including the numerous clerks who had been educated in the Church could not be tried in the Civil Courts. This “benefit of Clergy” applied to students, even, as one historian put it, applying to anyone who had “a smattering of Latin.”
Other provisions included a clause that no archbishop, bishop or clergy could leave the Kingdom without the King’s permission. No one could be excommunicated without first application to the King. There were a total of 16 provisions. After strong opposition, Thomas Becket gave way and assented to the King’s demands. His fellow-bishops were ordered to acquiesce, and they did. Henry II claimed precedence from pre-conquest days for these articles, although as one might surmise this was and is strongly disputed. But as Becket's biographer, Knowles, puts it, “the real conflict...(was) between two conceptions of Church and Monarchy.”
Thomas had second thoughts about assenting to the provisions, and begged the Pope for absolution. Thomas attempted to cross the Channel in violation of one of the provisions, but failed. Then ensued about six months of tense events too numerous to list. Then in November, 1164, under cover of a storm, he escaped to France, where he was to remain in exile for six years. Controversy raged, centering on the exiled Thomas, King Henry II, and the Pope. There were many efforts to effect a reconciliation between King Henry II and Becket. But hostility prevailed, and no serious compromise accepted. Thomas excommunicated English bishops who sided with the King with no lasting effect. Pope Alexander III offered a compromise which would have restored Becket to Canterbury. But this was of little influence because of another serious quarrel between Becket and Henry II.
3) Henry II announced that his son, another Henry, would be crowned, a tradition of designating a successor. Pope Alexander had reserved the power of Coronation for the Archbishop of Canterbury, but Henry II designated the Archbishop of York to confer coronation, not the exiled Thomas, thus deepening the chasm between two headstrong men. The coronation took place with the Archbishop of York presiding, with almost all the English and Welsh bishops present.
Then, a seeming peace occurred, although the resolution of disputed property claims between Becket and Henry II remained ambiguous and undecided. Most issues were unresolved, but Thomas decided to return to England and Canterbury. He arrived with a splendid entourage and eager crowds pleaded for his blessing. At Canterbury he was greeted by a large and jubilant crowd. But Thomas was still unrelenting in his condemnation of the King, charging misuse of Canterbury wealth and properties.
King Henry II and his Barons could no longer endure Thomas. No one will ever know with certainty whether King Henry II ordered Becket killed or whether he was to be imprisoned. The King was certainly furious, and his hot words were sufficient warrant for the Knights to invade Canterbury Cathedral and, with their swords, martyr Thomas Becket.
If you have a taste for history, you may have read this far, and begun to wonder why I noted that King Henry II was more to be praised than Becket. Henry II seemingly (and perhaps for political reasons) accepted responsibility for the murder in the Cathedral, because he made a penitential pilgrimage where he endured seven lashes each from 100 monks, a beating which would have killed or permanently crippled most men. But Henry stood up, walked to his horse and rode away. He was physically strong, like most of the Plantagenets, possessing as well great stamina and determination.
If you are turned off because of political murders, or for that matter, willful killing, you would have to include most monarchs of medieval, renaissance and Reformation eras in your revulsion. Henry II was the first of the Plantagenet line, also known as the Angevins. That line kept power until Richard III was killed at the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). This began the line of Tudor Kings, as the winner, Henry Tudor, the Welshman, assumed the crown as Henry VII. The Tudors were no saints. Witness Henry VIII and his readiness to order beheadings, just as one example. But also one must remember that his daughter was one of the greatest of English monarchs, Elizabeth I.
Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine when he was nineteen and she thirty-one years old. She had been divorced from King Louis VII of France, by whom she had two daughters. Her marriage to Henry II brought him sovereignty over large areas of France. The marriage was stormy, yet productive. In their first six years of marriage, five children were born, 4 of them boys. They had a total of eight children, two of them to become Kings of England – Richard the Lionheart, and John of Magna Carta fame. Henry, the eldest, the crown designate, died while Henry II was still alive.
When, years later, the King discovered that Eleanor was plotting to have Richard replace him, Henry imprisoned Eleanor for sixteen years in Winchester. Richard left for foreign parts, as a crusader, as a prisoner in Europe and, on his father's death, King of England. Richard was a strong, brave and skilled warrior, but he was by no means the glorified hero Walter Scott created in IVANHOE.
All these famous or notorious ones were men and women of their time – ruthless power-seekers few would admire today. But one has some obligation to view them as part of the web and woof of their times, not ours.
Henry II, crowned in 1154, reigned for thirty-five years. His constant goal was to increase the power of the monarch vis-a-vis the feudal lords and the Church. He established kingly courts, where itinerant judges, responsible to him and not the feudal lords, adjudicated disputes and tried cases.
Henry II established Common Law in England, where precedents of former cases were used to guide legal decisions as well as statutory law. This English Common Law we have inherited. By common agreement it is a superior system of justice than reliance on statutory law or Napoleonic Code still prevailing in some European countries.
Henry II strengthened the jury system. Under his reign, the jury was drawn not only from the Knightly class but also from small landholders and representatives from the villages. Claims were subject to the weighing of evidence by people of the neighborhood.
Although Henry II had to relax enforcing of provisions of the Constitutions of Clarendon after Becket’s murder, the system did grow to the end that eventually the religious hierarchy could no longer have “the benefit of clergy” to exempt their bishops, priests, monks and numerous “clerks” from trial in the civil and criminal courts.
All these legal institutions gathered strength through the turmoil of centuries. The Puritans who came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony and the aristocrats who settled Virginia and Maryland both brought with them the English Common Law and trial by a jury of one’s peers. We may well be grateful for that system and to Henry II, whatever his motives, for being such a substantial figure in their growth.
All these observations just to make my point that Henry II is more to be praised than “Saint” Thomas á Becket, whether you might consider the founding Plantagenet a man you love to hate or a man you hate to love.
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