Early Music (III) Les Bergeries

France was undoubtedly the place where both harpsichord construction and harpsichord composition reached its apogee. France was faithful to the harpsichord several decades longer than the rest of Europe, which embraced the piano, an instrument developed from the simpler Italian harpsichord.

In the 20th Century, the harpsichord was revived. The early period of its revival is called the revival period. Revival harpsichords tended to be constructed similarly to pianos, with heavy, iron frames, and thick, steel wire for strings. The belief was that the piano was a technological advancement over the harpsichord, and thus harpsichords would benefit from being constructed similarly. The resulting revival harpsichords had  a rather harsh, tinny sound, which many people still associate with harpsichords. In spite of this, revival period harpsichord music has a charm of its own. Most often, the pieces were performed with Romantic influence, and thus very dramatic.

Here is a recording, from 1966, of Les bergeries, a piece by François Couperin (1668-1733), performed on a revival harpsichord in the revival manner, by Zuzana Růžičková.

Following the revival period, harpsichord builders and performers tended to look back at surviving original harpsichords from the 16th-18th Centuries rather than taking cues from modern piano contruction. These historic instruments were constructed much more lightly, out of wood and glue only, and had much thinner, agile, soft iron and brass strings. The resulting sound is wonderfully rich, penetrating, organic. This is as close as we get to the harpsichord in all its splendor, as the last French harpsichord composers would have had in mind. Alongside interest in historic instruments was a revival of historically-informed performance. Pieces from this new period look back to Baroque sources for interpreting a piece, rather than 19th and 20th Century Romantic influences.

For contrast, here is the same piece, performed on a copy of a historic instrument, in a historically-informed performance style. 

Richard Weaver on Emerson

From a collection of Southern essays by Richard Weaver, (which I might add, is a beautifully bound book that lays open flat without being broken in), some comments on the Transcendentalist movement in American literature, particularly its heretical and catastrophic view that man is naturally good:

It is not easy to muster oneself to attack Emerson, the prophet of the "over-soul" and the teacher of self-reliance to generations of Americans. He appears serenely possessed of the truth, and his delivery of what he has to say is winsome. But the destructiveness of his influence can now be traced. 

[... Weaver encountered the words of] a Southern essayist, roughly contemporary with Emerson, that "the theory of the natural goodness of man will blow up any society which is founded upon it." [...] 

The denial of evil is a very great heresy. If we are interested in classifying, it is a phase of the Gnostic heresy, whose chief impulse, originating in arrogance and egocentrism, is to substitute a dream world for the structure of reality. [... Emerson] depicted a world in which a divine nature and a Godlike man looked upon each other with mutual satisfaction. Thus for Emerson the world was monistic. The great struggle between good and evil, taught by the religion which he gave up, and dramatized by the greatest literature, does not exist because the Great Adversary, the power of evil, does not essentially exist. To be natural is to be good, and all things work harmoniously by divine prompting.

[...] It is interesting to note that the elder Henry James, father of the great novelist, saw through Emerson in this respect. Though professing an admiration for him, he stated that Emerson was "all his days an arch traitor" to the existing order. He was, James went on to say, "fundamentally treacherous to our civilization without being at all aware himself of the fact." This was because Emerson had no conscience; that is to say, no consciousness of evil in himself. It is the nature of conscience, James pointed out, to cry, "God be merciful on me, a sinner," but Emerson was incapable of passing that kind of judgment on himself. "He recognized no god outside of himself and his interlocutor," and what he understood as holiness was simply innocence.

[...] Emerson had simply banned the problem of evil from consciousness. Having decided that there was nothing divine outside himself to issue demands or pronounce rebukes, he arrived, not at victory but complacency.

I like Weaver's thoughts here, especially highlighting the grave error in refusing to believe there is a capacity for evil in mankind, especially in ourselves, which he describes as lacking a conscience. A firm belief and confidence in our own goodness turns us into monsters who do evil without remorse, for remorse requires knowledge of the capacity of evil in ourselves. Sometimes we become so bent on believing that we are good, and have the inordinate need to be right, that we ignore the plain truth of the duplicitous and malicious motives within ourselves, a presumption that turns us into real monsters: persons who believe they can do no wrong and can become saints by merely being and asserting themselves.

For those interested in reading the whole essay, it is called "Contemporary Southern Literature" (1959).

New Barefoot Running Shoes

I took advantage of an after-Christmas sale to get a new pair of Vivobarefoot Stealth running shoes. Vivobarefoot is a British company that claims to have made the original barefoot shoe. The soles are 3mm thick, and puncture resistant. This is my fourth pair of their running shoes. I also have a pair of boots. The silver and black running shoes, which I got last year, are starting to wear through from the inside, but they've got high mileage. The new pair is in Auburn colors.

The fabric on this pair is a bit thicker than the last pair. They were dubbed winter-proof.

Also, I'm already following through on the resolution to use my camera more.

Year in Review (Pictures)

One thing I'd like to do next year is use my camera more. These past few years, I've fallen out of the habit. Still, here are some photos I took this year that I loved:

Four generations

Bluestem B&W

Buddha's hand citron

Cindy in the snow

My goddaughter's birthday party

'Louis Philippe' Rose

Lucy's Christmas photo shoot

Fall afternoon at end of the work day

Great Falls on the Potomac

Frosty foggy morning at work

Parvulus enim natus est nobis

For a CHILD IS BORN to us, and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Christmas Eve!

My niece wanting to try my Trappist beer (Orval)

Now off to Mass in a bit. The grace of God has appeared, saving all! Merry Christmas to my friends!

Early Music (II) - La Portugaise

Pièces de Viole Composées par Mr Forqueray le Père Mises en Pièces de Clavecin - 1ère Suite - La Portugaise
Antoine Forqueray arr. Jean-Baptiste-Antoine Forqueray

Gustav Leonhardt (Harpsichord Hemsch 1751)

Neo-Baroque

Lovely neo-Baroque composition by Remo Giazotto (1910 - 1998), who at first attributed it to Baroque composer Tomaso Albinoni (1671 - 1751).

Adagio for Strings and Organ in g minor
Conducted by Maria Teresa Garatti
Performed by I Musici

Missa cantata in Troy

There is a most beautiful Gregorian chant, the introit for the fourth Sunday of Advent: Rorate caeli, which I heard at an Extraordinary Form Latin Mass yesterday in Troy.

After the 7:45 Mass in Auburn, at which the Schola chanted this in English, I had the desire to go to the Latin Mass also, even though I was on four hours of sleep after my friends' wedding the night before. We took the back way down to Troy, a way I'd never been before, through Tuskegee and Union Springs and a number of other small Black Belt towns (one called Smuteye). The ride was gorgeous, with little traffic, and many tall pines and grassy fields. The distance is shorter and we got to see the old, run-down plantation houses. I'm glad we didn't take I-85.

The Latin Mass was at St. Martin of Tours in Troy, celebrated by Fr. Irwin. The choir was almost as large as the congregation, and they sang all of the Gregorian propers for the Mass. It was a Missa cantata, a low Mass but with the readings and prayers chanted by the priest and the choir. We sat in the front pew, since my friend said he didn't like the other Latin Mass he had been to where he couldn't hear anything. The rest of the congregation, except for a family next to us, sat in the back two pews. There was an entire empty church between them and us, they at the back wall and we right behind the priest and servers. My friend said he loved this Mass, especially following along in the St. Edmund Campion Missal, which were provided in the church. It was easier to follow Fr. Irwin than many priests, because he spoke and sung the Latin slowly and carefully.

I was thinking, later, how that form of the Mass could enrich the Mass of Paul VI. There was something a little unsettling about it. It is much quieter, for one, and it takes its own sweet time, without regard for what the clock says. I'm not in control and I don't know entirely what's going on at the traditional Mass, even following in the missal, and this is intentional. Many parts are hidden from view or veiled in silence. And then, from the midst of the silent anticipation, the Son of God appears, elevated in the hands of the priest, and we are kneeling to worship Him. This is a key element of the lay participation in the older Mass: waiting, watching, trusting; being ready to receive and follow. Even the priest is not in control; he is not free to be himself and do things his way. He puts off his self and takes on the persona Christi in a very tangible way. This is not an attitude very popular in our time. We'd rather be in the know, have a sense of control and ownership, have things now. I might say that the traditional Mass appeals to Marys, and the new Mass appeals to Marthas.

Owning our calling

I met a priest recently, a young, kind, lighthearted man. We spoke for a long time. I got the impression that he wanted to be friends with me. I called him Fr. ---, then he stopped me. "Please, just call me ---."

I thought this was unfortunate. I think a man ought to own his calling. Calling a priest Father, while not very ancient or universal, is still an excellent custom in our culture. If I'm going to be friends with the man, I want to be friends with him as a priest, not as an "ordinary person". I only want to be friends with particular persons, and particular persons as whole persons, including their vocations. "Father", along with clerical garb, is kind of like a priest's wedding ring. I don't think highly of men who take off their wedding rings around certain people.

Also, while I say "Father" to honor the man, I also say it to honor his office. The man is unworthy, but God has called him to lay down his life for the Church, and placed an indelible mark on his soul and consecrated his hands in spite of his sinfulness. I say "Father" to remind me of this. Let me honor what God has done, please, if not for yourself, then for your office! And yes, I'd love to be friends.

Wool & Linen

I've said before that I wanted everything in my wardrobe made of wool and linen. This Christmas may get me closer to my ambition. I'm already in possession of hemp boxer shorts (hemp is basically the same as linen), and my mom said she was thinking of buying me a wool flannel shirt. Then, I asked for more wool socks.

Now I've found a website, Rawganique, that sells an abundance of organic linen and hemp articles: shirts, pants, undershirts, underwear, socks, shoes, suits, towels, sheets, etc. Although I'd never buy any of them, they are a curiosity to behold:

Linen t-shirt: $59

Linen sheet set: $410

Linen sweater: $109

Yes, they may last a lifetime - or two or three - but I'm not sure I want to be stuck with the same undershirt for the next fifty years. (I might consider the linen sheets one day).

Thomas Merton on questions we are afraid to ask

Now anxiety is the mark of spiritual insecurity. It is the fruit of unanswered questions. But questions cannot go unanswered unless they first be asked. And there is a far worse anxiety, a far worse insecurity, which comes from being afraid to ask the right questions - because they might turn out to have no answer. One of the moral diseases we communicate to one another in society comes from huddling together in the pale light of an insufficient answer to a question we are afraid to ask.

No Man Is an Island

Early Music

G.F. Handel, Harpsichord Suite no. 5 in E major (including "The Harmonious Blacksmith")

Chantal Perrier-Layec, Harpsichord

Prelude 0:00

Allemande 1:57

Courante 4:42

Air and 5 variations The Harmonious Blacksmith 5:49

Life Update

This will be the last week I'll live with my roommate. By next Saturday, he'll be a married man. My other roommate, too, has passed the exams, having now earned the title Philosophiae Doctor. I'm happy for them both, but (selfishly) I will miss the opportunities for philosophico-theologico-politico-linguistic-cultural-literary conversations at will, as well as their quiet presence. Who knows? Maybe the subleaser(s) will be equally as erudite (not likely).

***

Should I have a lot of free space in the apartment, I'm looking forward to moving a bookcase into the living room, and perhaps building a new one along the lines of what I saw at my friend Matt's place this November. As of now, I feel like I sleep in a library. Which is not entirely a bad feeling, to be honest. Still, I have a number of books in boxes, so an extra bookshelf would be nice.

***

I went to Birmingham on Friday. I was supposed to meet up and stay with my best friend there, but he became suddenly ill, infected by office-mates. I got there earlier than expected, so I did some Christmas shopping. I was sad to see that my favorite hardware store had gone out of business. A terrible, terrible loss. When I worked at the nursery, I used to answer almost every inquiry we couldn't handle by referring customers to that hardware store - they not only had everything, but the best of everything. They turned the poor building into one of those CrossFit places.

I still had a lot of time in Birmingham, so I ate at my favorite casual restaurant, drove by my old apartment and church, browsed my favorite local bookstore, and stopped for a while at a chapel to pray.

***

This year I've been blessed to have joined two new apostolates. One of them is the Courage Apostolate, which meets in Birmingham. I was only one of two that was able to make it, but I feel that I hit it off well with the permanent deacon who leads it. We talked, oddly enough, about cars, something I know and care little about. But, you see, we talked about Audis, so I had some input. The two prayers that form the beginning and end of a Courage meeting are the Serenity Prayer and the Memorare. The deacon chose the serenity prayer as the topic of his talk: Most of us have wounds, sometimes spiritual wounds, which may take decades to heal, or may never heal. While these wounds may hinder and isolate us in many ways, they are also blessings in disguise: invitations to be more intimate with the Lord, to grow in humility and patience, to be more merciful with ourselves and others. Afterwards, there is a priest to hear confessions.

***

To end, I'll share of photo of a dog I saw sleeping in the road on the way to work. 

The Ultimate Relationship

(Part 3 of 3) I will recap my points from the previous posts, then in my blog I will move on to other topics.

Marriage, perhaps because it is under attack, has been promoted by well-meaning groups as a kind of Ultimate Relationship that fulfills all needs, has no limitations, and reaches all possibilities of human excellence. It has been promoted as a kind of Rosetta Stone to unlock the meaning of every aspect of Reality, a medicine to cure every spiritual and societal illness. I believe that this is an immoderate viewpoint.

A moderate assessment shows that marriage is good and holy and essential to human society and flourishing, but that it also places impediments and limitations on a relationship, by its very nature. To be a good husband to a woman means I cannot be a certain kind of friend for her. She must go to someone else for that kind of friendship. Being married to a woman means I should not be in a spiritual relationship with her. She must go to someone else for a spiritual relationship. The contrary is true also. To be a certain kind of friend for someone means that I cannot also be in the role of spouse or partner for that person.

We already intuit this in the case of kindred. Being a brother for my sister means I cannot be her husband. That would be Gross. But, in our time, we have lost the distinctions of marriage, spiritual affinity, and friendship. Our culture tries to force sexual relationships to fulfill the roles of all three at once. We are looking for one person to be our rock, our everything. We seek it because the movies, songs, and poems tell us to, and our peers and relatives say so.

What is the point of all of this? I find that the overvaluation of marriage, especially among the single, who don't see the reality from the inside, has lead to a kind of idolization resulting in envy and verging on despair. This sort of idolization causes some to grasp for (potential) spouses with an unhealthy attachment, meanwhile neglecting the other persons with whom God might be calling them to practice total self-gift. The (moderate) truth is that we are forced, in this short life, to practice total self-gift within the confines of limited relationships that cannot completely fulfill us, and marriage (like the relations of friends and kindred) is one of these limited relationships. To view it otherwise is to place it in a position that can only justly be occupied by our relationship with Christ, who is the only One with whom we can be in the Ultimate Relationship on either side of eternity.

In Scripture, Christ speaks to us in the language of all three: brother, friend, spouse. This is not insignificant. Each of these limited relationships gives us a glimpse into the reality of our relationship with Him.

Marriage and True Friendship

(Part 2 of 3) I was wrong to say that spouses are not entirely capable of true friendship. What I mean is that marriage, by its nature, excludes some of the equally excellent possibilities of true friendship. No one relationship, save our relationship with Christ, can exhibit all possibilities of friendship and love. To say yes to one relationship model with a person is to say no to other possibilities that are equally excellent. Marriage, by its nature, is a cleaving of two persons, who become one flesh, which inherently excludes some possibilities, but opens up other possibilities. In the same way, disinterested friendship is a bond that allows for the flourishing of possibilities that are diminished by the kind of attachment found in marriage. Thus, I would say that marriage has the possibility of becoming a true friendship, but that this true friendship is nonetheless limited by the very thing that makes marriage itself excellent: the unity of spouses and the procreation of children.

It was not God's plan that one human relationship should achieve all possibilities of excellence. This is why Adam and Eve were commanded to multiply. It would otherwise have been sufficient for Adam and Eve to be fruitful only: to have one male and one female child, who would marry and repeat the process. But we see, in God's plan, the desire for an abundance of persons, so that societies might flourish in the world, not merely man and woman and their nuclear family. Society consists of a variety and layering of relationships, each with its own kind of excellence and depth, to the exclusion of others. The conjugal dyad is not the crowning achievement, but it is the noble beginning of it all, and all ultimately points to our union with God in heaven.

As an example to show that there are a variety of relationships with excellence, which exclude other possibilities, St. Thomas Aquinas explains that those in a spiritual relationship with each other (through sponsorship in baptism or confirmation) cannot (validly or licitly) marry each other. And, if those who are married enter into a spiritual relationship, it is an impediment to the marriage, though it does not dissolve it. The reason why, according to Thomas, is that "spiritual relationship is by itself a sufficient reason for friendship", and, if you're looking to marry someone, you need to seek intimacy and friendship with someone else.

Valuing Marriage, Family, and Friendship

(Part 1 of 3) Marriage, family, and friendship together form a threefold foundation upon which society flourishes. In our time, all three are under assault. 

There was the Protestant/Puritan/Victorian prudishness, which viewed the body and sexuality as dirty and animalistic and which suppressed and hid this part of our nature (with some exceptions, such as outdoor nude swimming and bathing, which is too much for even our "sexually liberated" era). 

Then there was the Sexual Revolution, which was a reaction against this, oddly keeping the belief that the body and sexuality are dirty and animalistic, but going to the opposite extreme of reveling in it by behaving as animals and exhibiting and using the body as an object. Following this was the rapid destruction of the family and the ubiquitous practice of perverse, selfish, and disordered sexual acts. 

Following this, in my opinion, was another reaction, in many Catholic and other Christian circles, an overvaluation of family, marriage, and sexuality, which has caused its own problems. What are some examples of what I mean? The notion that sexual intimacy is the only or the highest form of intimacy. The framing of all Truth through the lens of marriage and sexuality.

What we need, then, is a solid valuation of marriage, family, and friendship, neither undervaluing, nor overvaluing, any one of the three. In my opinion, the overvaluing of marriage and sexuality actually worsens the assault against true marriage and sexuality. If in our society the sexual relationship is considered the highest and only true form of love and intimacy, and friendship is reduced to a kind of second-rate option, it is then no surprise that those who are not called to true marriage will be under heavy pressure to create false visions of marriage and sexuality, since love and self-gift are the vocation of all people. The best way to defend marriage and sexuality, as the Catechism suggests, is the cultivation of and flourishing of intimate (but chaste and disinterested) friendship.

Marital/sexual relationships should be valued, then, but moderately, in their place. The same applies to familial relationships and friendship. We need all three in order to flourish as a society. We must recognize the excellence and the limitations of all three.

Friendship is limited in that friends cannot achieve total unity, for they are not one flesh. Marriage is limited in that spouses cannot achieve total disinterestedness with one another, because they are one flesh. As it turns out, the excellence of each is also the limitation. Friendship is at its highest in disinterested love which gives birth to virtue and truth; marriage is at its highest in unitive love, which procreates new life. It is for this reason that there are some things a person can say and do with his/her spouse, but not with a friend; and there are some things he/she would say or do with a friend, but not with his/her spouse. (I contend, against what some would say, that spouses are not entirely capable of true friendship.)

Yet, both friendship and marriage, properly lived, are images of Charity, of Christ's sacrificial love. Only in our relationship with Christ can we achieve both total friendship and total unity. And the world needs examples of true marriage and true friendship to guide us to that end toward which we were made.

Beard Gone

Beards are probably one of the weirdest things about the human body, at least of the visible parts. I shaved my beard today, which I had been growing since mid-October. I discovered last month how to trim it subtly with scissors, but it was still getting to be too much.

How bizarre are beard hairs? Mine, at least: they come in four colors: black, brown, red, and blond. They come in different types: straight, curly, and crinkled. It's as if all the hair types and colors in the world have found a home on my face. What they all have in common, though, is their coarseness. The straight ones are like boar bristles. The different types are not so noticeable at first; only when they grow long do I become aware of them. The crinkly hairs are the worst. They shoot out directly off my face in all directions. They're why I shaved.

Unstructured Time

I think that I am temperamentally, and possibly neurologically, a process-oriented person. Finishing things doesn't do much for me. I feel no rush of excitement or accomplishment to speak of. Setting and completing goals doesn't motivate me much. This probably explains why I'm not a very competitive person, at least in the conventional sense. I like to run, and it's the running itself that I love. I used to like to perfect soccer techniques, but I was fine if teammates scored all the points. This may sound very boring and uninspiring, and I admit it may be to most people. All of my passion lies in the process and the perfection thereof; it is in the heat of the task at hand that my endorphins are highest. Results are pleasant byproducts.

For this reason, I probably devote more of my life to unstructured time than most people. Too much unstructured time can be bad, such as if you lack self-control or a firm foundation of good habits. Or, if it goes into the excess of what the spiritual writers warn against: the vice of curiosity. Yet, I think that unstructured time is an essential part of the life well-lived.

What is unstructured time? First, it should be distinguished from boredom or idleness, which are unintentional or thoughtless activity or inactivity. Unstructured time is intentional and thoughtful activity, but totally purposeless. This condition of thoughtful, intentional purposelessness is what really distinguishes unstructured time from other forms of activity and leisure. Unstructured time is thus most closely related to some forms of play exhibited by children.

You make room in your schedule for unstructured time; it is not just a way of filling space in the absence of plans. If someone interrupts your unstructured time with something unimportant, you tell them you are busy being intentionally purposeless.

Unstructured time is acting without any particular consequence in mind, for its own sake. It's a leap of faith. Our time is precious, and must be judiciously guarded. Therefore, to lavish such time on something that may result in nothing of consequence is a kind of gamble.

What are some examples or unstructured time? For one, I think of conversation between friends. Unstructured time is essential to the formation of relationships. When we speak to a friend as a friend, we don't usually arrive with predetermined topics, or if we do, it is merely to discuss them for the joy of discussing them. We don't have any particular goal in mind for the conversation. What we talk about, and how long we talk about it, is up in the air. It may not serve any practical purpose, or it may change our lives, but the results are not at the forefront of our minds. It is time spent for its own sake.

Some other things I love to do in unstructured time:

• Picking up a book and reading any portion of it, without any commitment to read it all or read it again.
• Listening to music.
• Exploring libraries or the woods.
• Going on walks or runs without destinations or goals in mind.
• Taking something apart and putting it back together again.
• Learning new skills, without knowing what use they will have.

One of the great things about unstructured time is that, while it is done without purpose, it often yields unintended results down the road. For example, I find that my unstructured reading enhances my structured reading, of books I'm trying to finish and study closely, because I'm able to make connections I never would have thought of. I would say, in general, that unstructured time enhances your sense of the connectedness of everything. I find that my experiences in unstructured time continuously interact with my purposeful activities in ways I never could have foreseen, and would not have experienced had I operated solely by goals and delineated tasks.

Macula originalis non est in te.

The dogma of the Immaculate Conception was defined ex cathedra by Pope Pius IX in 1854, but the belief itself is ancient, though it was for a long time contested (even by such Doctors of the Church as St. Thomas Aquinas). The feast originated in the East as the Conception of Mary, although in the East today there is no defined dogma of the Immaculate Conception. An Eastern Orthodox man I know said that their issue with the Immaculate Conception has more to do with its dependence on the doctrine of original sin, which is not seen in the same way in the East as in the West. There is that, and also that the East (in schism) does not define any more dogmas after the Seven Ecumenical Councils. This is my understanding of the issue.

St. Anne with the Blessed Virgin and Jesus

Sometimes people mistake "immaculate" to mean something like "miraculous", and think that the Immaculate Conception refers to the conception of Jesus in the Virgin by the Holy Spirit. Tota pulchra es, an ancient, fourth century prayer formed from verses of Judith and Song of Solomon contains the Latin word macula, which means a spot or stain: macula originalis non est in te is "the original stain is not in thee."

My horticultural experience reminds me of what macula means: plants with the epithet maculatus have spots, usually on their leaves. I think of Lamium maculatum, spotted deadnettle, a popular groundcover for shady places. "Maculatus" would make a fine nickname for a freckled friend, although this word can connote pollution and defilement also (which might make it even more apt as a nickname, depending on the person). Curious, I looked up the proper Latin word for freckle, which is lenticula, also the word for lentil. Thus lenticulatus would mean "freckled," though I'm not sure this is proper Latin.

Anyway, immaculata means "spotless," "without stain".

Tota pulchra es (4th Cent.)

Tota pulchra es, Maria.
Et macula originalis non est in Te.
Tu gloria Ierusalem.
Tu laetitia Israel.
Tu honorificentia populi nostri.
Tu advocata peccatorum.
O Maria, O Maria.
Virgo prudentissima.
Mater clementissima.
Ora pro nobis.
Intercede pro nobis.
Ad Dominum Iesum Christum.

Thou art all fair, O Mary.
And the original stain is not in thee. (Song of Solomon 4:7)
Thou art the glory of Jerusalem.
Thou, the joy of Israel.
Thou art the honor of our people. (Judith 15:10)
Thou art the advocate of sinners.
O Mary, O Mary.
Virgin most prudent.
Mother most tender.
Pray for us,
Intercede for us with Jesus Christ our Lord.

Corsican setting of the Tota pulchra es

Glitter Glue

For a dude, I'm pretty dangerous with glitter glue.

As for the style, I call it: cytoplasmic

Our Inhumane Culture

The radio programs on the way to and from work over the past days have been rife with commentary on the recent mass shootings. On the left: gun contol. On the right: improvements in mental healthcare systems. In my opinion, both of these are inadequate. They propose bandages to cover wounds, but dismiss the underlying cause of the infection - why these shootings happen in the first place. It's not because people can get guns. It's not because deranged people can't get healthcare. No, it's because our society is a breeding ground for disconnected, angry, desperate people, and whether we want to believe it or not, we all have a part in this.

This is not to say that the perpetrators of these crimes are not culpable. Their culpability remains unquestioned. What I mean to discuss here is our culpability. People who do evil, antisocial things don't arise in a vacuum.

Everyone has people in their lives: parents, siblings, children, neighbors, teachers, coworkers, passersby on the streets. Friends, hopefully. We are the people in others' lives. We create the environment in which everyone else arises, as they do for us. The environment we make around us with our actions has consequences.

Last night, I got food at a Wendy's. I went inside, and sitting at the tables were people, mostly middle-aged men, by themselves, eating. Eating, that most communal activity! Why weren't these men at home, eating with their families? Where are their families? Do they have families? Do they eat alone every night? I speak of myself, too. I ate alone last night. Why wasn't I with my family? Why don't I ask people to eat with me?

One day, someone doesn't show up at his job. Where did he go? He's sick? He won't be able to work for weeks or months? Maybe never again? What hospital is he in, that I might bring him flowers? He's not in a hospital? Where is his house, that I might bring him food? ... Of course, I don't need to ask such questions. There's sick, and there's "sick", and I instinctively know the difference. "Sick" means don't pry any further; pretend this didn't happen and move on. Yet, life moves on for "sick" people, too, not just for the ones who move on. What becomes of such people?

Yes, people live on after ties are severed. Ours is a culture of rupture. Husbands have no compunction about leaving their wives and not looking back. As do parents their children, children their parents, neighbors their neighbors, friends their friends. We don't like something and we leave and move on. The "throwaway culture", as Pope Francis calls it. We discard people like last year's t-shirt. What does this leave behind? Orphans and widows. Most of us, in some way or another, are orphans or widow(er)s. Because of greed. Because of consumerism. Because of the sexual revolution: promiscuity, divorce, shirking our commitments. We were raised by orphans and widows, too. We've learned how to be human beings from people who are just as broken and orphaned as we who follow.

All of us have been played and are playing a part in this. Ours is a culture that (still sometimes) exteriorly celebrates its Christian identity while, in many ways, it covertly embodies exactly the opposite of Christian charity and communion. Our ulterior mode of action is survival of the fittest. The weakest among us are "human weeds", objects of our contempt: the conservatives try to quarantine them in ghettos or exterminate them in prisons, the liberals want to exterminate them before they are born, in anticipation of their weediness. Margaret Sanger painted the dark side of our culture most infamously:

Birth control is not contraception indiscriminately and thoughtlessly practiced. It means the release and cultivation of the better racial elements in our society, and the gradual suppression, elimination and eventual extirpation of defective stocks— those human weeds which threaten the blooming of the finest flowers of American civilization (emphasis mine).

Yes, there is a sinister side to our American way of life. We, the strong, eliminate obstacles to our pursuit of happiness, even if the obstacles happen to human beings created in the image and likeness of God. Are we surprised, then, that such an inhumane culture cultivates people who carry out inhuman acts of violence? We all have a role to play in this, for evil or for good. The solution has nothing to do with guns or healthcare for mental illness. We have to cultivate awareness of others, awareness of the environments we help to create in others' lives. The solution is to repair the consequences of our culture of death by building large and open communities and families; to form new and difficult ties, to strengthen the ones that exist, and to repair the ones that have broken. One person, one situation, at a time.

Veni, Veni Emmanuel

In my opinion, one of the best YouTube music performance videos. I posted it on Under My Roof way back in the day. Time to pay it homage here. This is the Veni Emmanuel as found in the 1940 Hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church, but ultimately taken from the medieval plainchant. Played on clavichord by George Becker.

Pope St. John Paul II

I've seen it before, but I saw it again yesterday and was moved by it. Pope St. John Paul II forgiving his would-be assassin.

Pray for us.

Miss Lucy

I took some photos of my niece this Thanksgiving break. This one was my favorite. She got photo shoot fatigue pretty quickly.

Blog Statement of Faith

I wish to declare that I, to the best of my ability, shall be unwaveringly docile and faithful to all that Jesus Christ's one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church proposes for belief. To the best of my ability, I will put these beliefs into practice. I profess my loyalty and obedience to the Successors of St. Peter, the Popes, to the dogmatic statements of the Councils, and to the Magisterium. To the best of my ability, I wish to dedicate this blog to the service and glory of God and the salvation of souls, including my own. So help me God!

Times of Consolation, Times of Trust

Sometimes it seems as if the very fabric of society is being ripped to shreds, families are falling apart, people have lost compassion for each other, and each person is at war with himself and his neighbor. Truly, as we meditate on these first weeks of Advent, and as skies grow darker earlier, we feel that this world is going to continue to plunge into darkness until the end. So it has been foretold.

This is the time to trust! As dark as our sins - individual and societal - may be, they are not so dark as our distrust. As the voice of Jesus says in St. Faustina's diary (1486): "My child, all your sins have not wounded My Heart as painfully as your present lack of trust does - that after so many efforts of My love and mercy, you should still doubt My goodness."

The other day I was making a list of some times of spiritual consolation in my life, that I might thank God for them, and recall them when I'm tempted to distrust. I noticed a trend, three things: times at Mass or prayer, times at confession or spiritual direction, times in close, spiritual friendship. The best of times involved two or three at once. I think of that last trip to visit Nathan. Thank you, God, for giving that to me. Though it came and went, as all good things on this side of eternity do, it will sustain me in difficult times.

I've developed the habit, recently, of praying for a few minutes at the beginning of the day, when all is quiet and dark, before work. These times have become so consoling also. It is spiritual bread to sustain me all day. Many nights, as I go to bed, I'm anxious for the night to be over so I can get up and spend that time again another day. Thank you, God, for this present gift.

Collard Greens

I cooked collard greens for our Thanksgiving dinner. I did it one of the Southern old fashioned ways: in a cast iron skillet, sautéed in bacon grease then covered and simmered for a few hours. We ran out before anyone could get seconds.

Being sautéed.

Almost done cooking.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

On Thanksgiving I wish, first of all, to thank God for giving me life and my parents for saying yes to it. I'm thankful for my family and my friends. I'm thankful for the many blessings and privileges which I have enjoyed in life, knowing full-well that I am not a self-made man. And, though I never would have welcomed them, I am thankful for what the little suffering and grief I've faced in life has taught me, both about myself, that I may be more grateful and humble, and about others, that I may look outside of my interests toward the wellbeing of others.

One thing, though, has especially been on my heart this year, that I am especially thankful for. There is someone who taught me much, and continues to teach me though we are apart. At the time, I did not know I was being taught. I took her presence for granted. But, with every passing day this year, I have looked to her example for wisdom, and her life inspires me to be compassionate to others, and to know myself more deeply. I repent of having taken her for granted.

I think of her and other friends who are no longer with me. What I learn from this is to be grateful today for what I will wish I had been grateful for tomorrow. Because today is passing away forever, and the things we do, or refuse to do, will be forever.

Being Made of Solid Wood

There's nothing quite like holding a piece of furniture, a box, or a musical instrument of solid wood, made thoughtfully and artfully, by hand. These objects have a certain aura about them, something in them that even inspires me to be a better man. They are the real deal. It is one of my aspirations in life to be like these. When someone encounters me, I would want them to think, "This here is a true man." This requires more than authenticity. Our generation loves authenticity. We are all supposed to just "be ourselves." This is true, but our selves also need to be something. Our selves must have substance. Otherwise we are just authentically mediocre. 

I like an idea I encountered in Dietrich von Hildebrand. In spite of what psychologists might say, we do not all have personalities. Some people are personalities. A personality is someone who is great, someone who has virtue. The rest of us, who lack greatness, have no personality. A personality is a person who becomes what God intended him to be. Take von Hildebrand himself:

A personality in the true sense of the word is the man who rises above the average only because he fully realizes the classical human attitudes, because he knows more deeply and originally than the average man, loves more profoundly and authentically, wills more clearly and correctly than the others, and makes full use of his freedom; in a word, he is the complete, the profound, and the true man (Liturgy and Personality, Ch. II). 

This is what sets those beautiful works of human craftsmanship apart from the cheap veneered furniture to be found anywhere. They have "personality". In our times, the veneered person is commonplace as well. Our social media presences and our résumés are often veneers covering what is lacking in substance and true personality. It reminds me of one of the aphorisms of Baltasar Gracián, SJ, (translated by Christopher Maurer):

292. Let your character be superior to the requirements of the job, not vice versa.

No matter how great the post, you must show you are greater. Deep talent grows even deeper, and more obvious, with each pursuit. The person with a narrow mind and heart will be easily caught, and eventually the weight of his duties will crush his reputation. The great Augustus was proud of being a better man than a prince. Here is where one needs a lofty spirit, and well-grounded confidence in oneself.

This last sentence contrasts quite starkly with what I quoted from Lorenzo Scupoli the other day. Two priests, giving almost opposite advice.  It should be noted that Gracián's aphorism comes from his work titled The Art of Worldly Wisdom. Note that he also says "well-grounded confidence". Coincidentally, both Scupoli and Gracián were disciplined for disobedience. Yet, Scupoli seems to have accepted his chastisement with humility, and was vindicated in the end, whereas Gracián was obstinate in his ways. So, I would rather follow the advice of Scupoli, but I am still drawn to the ideal of Augustus, of being a better man than what one's titles or credentials show, having a substance of solid wood, not just its outward appearance.

Mozart's Requiem (Hogwood)

I've been listening to Mozart's Requiem Mass over the past few days. I love the interpretation by Christopher Hogwood with the Westminster Cathedral Boys Choir and The Academy of Ancient Music. Some other, more Romantic interpretations are rather heavy and seem to drag on. I love Hogwood's swifter pace and the use of treble voices which adds some lightness and sweetness.

As an example, here's an excerpt from the Dies Irae, Lacrimosa, which Mozart has made a separate movement:

Lacrimosa dies illa
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus:
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem.

Mournfully be that day
On which from ashes shall arise
The guilty man to be judged;
O God, have mercy on him.
Gentle Lord Jesus,
Grant them eternal rest.

Ruffner Mountain in Fall

Ruffner Mountain is one of my favorite places. Here are some photos I took there over the years.

Deep blue sky made with polarizing filter on camera.

Inside the old quarry.

Another inside the quarry.

"Fake it till you make it"

I wrote a rather impertinent piece a couple of weeks ago on this topic, which I subsequently deleted. Brittany, however, wanted to know my views. Here is my attempt to present a case against it more concisely. And I hope to hear her response (or anyone else's).

First of all, I would say that I'm not entirely against "fake it till you make it," depending on what the phrase means. If I "fake" being a saint by never sinning again and continuously performing heroic deeds and works of mercy, I wouldn't call that faking it. That's just making it. It would be helpful, then, first to articulate what we mean by "fake it till you make it."

The concept is basically that of a positive self-fulfilling prophecy. If I believe positive things about myself, even if they are untrue, I will act more positively, in accordance with those beliefs. Thus, if I pretend to be a confident person, I will act like a confident person, and thereby become a confident person. If I pretend to be a happy person, I will act like I'm happy, then I will feel happy. &c. This all seems like common sense, and it might seem difficult to argue against it. But first, is this characterization accurate?

Let me try to diagram it:

"Fake it till you make it":

lack of self-confidence → weakness/failure as the result of lack of self-confidence → self-deception (the "faking it") about weakness/failure → boost in self-confidence as a result of self-deception (faking) → overcoming of weakness/failure as a result of boost in self-confidence ("making it")

Again, is this an accurate characterization?

The Problem:

If I were to take issue with this, it would be with that most pesky moral principle for us pragmatic moderns: the principle that the end does not justify the means. The end, overcoming weakness and failure, is good. Unquestionably. The means, "faking it until you make it," seems to work, but there is something else to consider: is the means good?

The problem with the means is that it involves deception (faking; self-deception or deception of others). Can deception be excused if it accomplishes something positive? It would seem, based on the writings of the saints and spiritual guides, that it cannot. In fact, with almost unanimity, they list self-deception as one of the chief enemies of moral and spiritual growth. It would seem, then, apart from the fact that lying itself is intrinsically disordered, deception cannot bring about long-term good, no matter if we can make it useful in the short-term.

Fr. Scupoli, in The Spiritual Combat, specifically mentions self-confidence as an obstacle to spiritual growth. The purpose of our weaknesses and failures is actually to destroy our confidence in ourselves, since our illusion of self-confidence is the means by which we fall into them in the first place. Real personal, moral, spiritual growth does not come by deceiving ourselves into feeling more confident in our abilities, but rather in relinquishing all confidence in our abilities, and placing total confidence in God. Fr. Scupoli:

God permits us to fall only that we may gain a deeper insight into ourselves, that we may learn to despise ourselves as wretched creatures and to desire honestly to be disregarded by others. Without this we cannot hope to obtain distrust of self which is rooted in humility and the knowledge of our own weakness. Whoever seeks to approach the eternal truth and fountain of all light must know himself thoroughly.

Thus, our impulse to action and change, by which we overcome our weaknesses and failures, is not from self-deception or an optimistic illusion about what we are capable of, but from a real knowledge of Who God is and what He can do and wishes to do in us. Having confidence in God requires no deception, as He is perfect and trustworthy already. To have confidence in Him is simply to recognize the truth about Who He is.

My problem with "fake it till you make it," then, is not about whether it sometimes works, but whether it is good, or whether it is aimed at our ultimate good. Call me an optimist, but I believe truth is the answer.

Bare Pawpaw

As I drove to work this morning, the fields sparkled with frost. I was surprisingly eager to get up this morning, in spite of the cold. No doubt the little radiant heater glowing across the dark room helped. I forgot to post a photo I took this weekend: the pawpaw tree has lost its leaves.

November Garden Update

It's late November, and so far no frost here yet, but maybe tonight. I took some photos of plants I have growing at my mom's yesterday:

Buddha's hand citron (Citrus medica). Citrons are one of the pure citrus species (of natural, rather than hybrid, origin). "Medica" refers the the Medes, not to medicine. If you've never smelled on of these before, you're missing out! The sweet fragrance carries across the yard.

Myrtle-leaf sour orange (Citrus myrtifolia). These tiny sour oranges make great marmalade, so I read. I'll have to try it sometime.

Rosa chinensis 'Louis Philippe'. This China rose does great in the South.

Instresses

Welcome to my new blogging venture. I've decided to return again to blogger after a few years on Tumblr. I've taken the name from Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J., whose terms "inscape" and "instress" I really love:

[Hopkins] felt that everything in the universe was characterized by what he called inscape, the distinctive design that constitutes individual identity. This identity is not static but dynamic. Each being in the universe 'selves,' that is, enacts its identity. And the human being, the most highly selved, the most individually distinctive being in the universe, recognizes the inscape of other beings in an act that Hopkins calls instress, the apprehension of an object in an intense thrust of energy toward it that enables one to realize specific distinctiveness. Ultimately, the instress of inscape leads one to Christ, for the individual identity of any object is the stamp of divine creation on it. (source)

Fr. Hopkins being aloof on right