Second Sunday of Lent Year B
I came across a beautiful icon of the Transfiguration last week as I was preparing a retreat for the seminarians in Singapore. In Orthodox iconography, although the figures and art form seem overly two dimensional, we have no static scene, but what we have is drama and a moment full of movement. Icons serve as narratives to open our eyes and hearts to a different realm of the Hidden mystery of God. Just the like icons on your computer screen which act as inter-phase portals linking you to another programme or application, these Christian art pieces, and perhaps more than that, links the visible world of the believer to the world of the invisible.
If depicting a scene from scripture, it tells a story that goes beyond the literal sense of the gospel text: here are live, happening events, real human beings, and challenges to the past, present and future. The icon of the Transfiguration which I came across was so rich with intricate details, each with a story to tell, and perhaps layers upon layers of meaning, that I found myself looking at it for almost an hour.
But what struck me most at first glance were the odd shapes that seemed to be protruding from the back of Jesus as if he had a pair of rectangular shaped wings set at strange angles. The circle of light (or mandorla) that surrounded the figure of glorified Jesus was obvious. It not only denoted the radiant light of his transfiguration but also represented the inner uncreated light emanating from Jesus, the Word of God, which pointed to his divinity. But was there a need to add these two other odd shapes vectors? They didn’t appear to be rays of light or at least stylized versions of it.
Upon further research, I discovered that these two odd shaped vectors represented the two fold movement of ascent and descent. On the one hand, it symbolized the ascent of Jesus and this three disciples up the mount of transfiguration and subsequently their descent thereafter. On a second level, it spoke of the two fold movement of faith. The first movement of faith or light of faith is a prophetic light which reveals the true identity of Jesus – apart from his messianic identity, Jesus is also the Only Begotten and Beloved Son of the Father. A second movement of faith or the light which illuminates and enlightens the disciples and all of us and help us make an assent of faith to what has been revealed.
Both these meanings may seem distant and abstract. But today, I would like to share with you what the ascending and descending movements of the Transfiguration say to us about a subject that is very close to us, something which we experience frequently, but perhaps with very little understanding. The two movements of the Transfiguration speaks to us of the two fold movement found in our liturgy, that is whenever we celebrate the Mass or any of the other Sacraments. The word “liturgy,” comes from the Greek word ‘leiturgia’ which means ‘public works.’ In ancient Greece, rich people often made expensive contributions to the city or to the state in terms of financing public works and received honour and privileges in return. Thus, the two fold movement could also be discerned from this profane use of the word liturgy – ‘you give and you receive in return.’
In the case of Christian worship, the celebration of the Sacraments, carries a similar two fold meaning. But here, the direction is reversed – ‘we receive in order that we may give.’ For us the word liturgy means the work of God in a dual relationship: the work God does for us and the work done unto God. Thus, liturgy is both what God does and what we do in return. Traditionally, the descending movement of God has been called ‘sanctification’ whereas the ascending movement of man has been called ‘glorification.’ God sanctifies man so that man may glorify God. This is what liturgy is all about!
The Transfiguration occurred not so much for the sake of the Lord as for the sake of His disciples. In the story of the Transfiguration, the glory of the Son is revealed in both the change of his appearance as well as the words of the Father descending from the clouds – “This is my Son, the Beloved, Listen to Him!” This is the descending movement of God. By revealing the divine nature of his Son, God was not merely providing the three apostles with a glimpse into the inner life of the Trinity but also providing them with the prototype of their own sanctification, or as the Eastern Christians put it, their deification. The Greek word for Transfiguration, ‘metamorphosis’, does not only indicate a transformation in appearance but also a progression or change of being from one state to another that will reveal one’s inner beauty. The disciples were shown what man could really be. They should not be content with just being caterpillars or trapped in the chrysalis of their earthly existence. They are destined to become beautiful butterflies that manifest the divine glory of God. In response to this revelation, Peter offers to build the three tents or shelters. At one level, these were mere dwellings to prolong the experience. At a deeper level and taking the spiritual sense of the text, Peter was actually offering to build a shrine, a temple or a sanctuary to glorify that which he now beholds – the visible Christ who reveals the invisible face of God.
This two-fold movement in fact unfolds in a Trinitarian and Ecclesial shape in our Eucharist; that is, God the Father comes through his Son to the Church for the sake of the world, and the Spirit illumines and vivifies every dimension of this movement. In the other direction, the Church, speaking in the name of the whole world, responds in thanksgiving by offering to the Father the very gift she has received: the Son. The Spirit effects the transformation or more exactly transubstantiation of the Church’s gifts into the Body and Blood of the Son.
In the Liturgy of the Word this twofold movement is also enacted by means of speech. God speaks, and we speak back. We can say that God speaks through his Son in the Holy Spirit to the Church; and the Church responds. Jesus Christ stands exactly in the middle position of these two directions of movement, and thus he is named Mediator. What God says to the world is his Son, Jesus Christ. What the world says back to God is also Christ, the Word made flesh, joined to the Church. The Church also plays the role of mediator here. God speaks to the world in speaking to the Church. The Church speaks for the world in responding to God.
Thus, the Transfiguration was not merely a historical event that prepared the disciples to face the trials ahead of them, especially that of losing their Master and Lord to the horrible fate of the crucifixion. The Transfiguration is re-presented and replayed throughout the centuries in the celebration of our liturgy. Here too we witness the transfiguration of the Lord as the bread and wine are changed into his Body and Blood. But it is not only the species that are changed; we too are ‘metamorphosised.’ At every mass, whether we are aware of it or not, we are sanctified and deified, we are transformed from glory to glory into the image of our Archetype, the new Adam, Christ our Lord, so that we may render worthy praise and glory to God. In the Transfiguration, Christ speaks to us of the fact that the world must be transfigured by love, which none of us has within himself, but which He is offering to us. In the Transfiguration, we are given the certain cause and foundation of our hope in order to follow Him on the way of the cross. Through the Transfiguration, the Church reminds us that present suffering is incommensurate with eternal glory, and that our brief and light suffering produces eternal glory in abundance. The butterfly will emerge from its chrysalis.
Guest Interview
Hey everyone,
I thought I'd share with all of you that I'm going to be doing an interview on a blog talk radio show called JournalJabber. It airs tonight at 9pm (EST.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/journaljabber/2012/02/29/jessica-sorensen-is-the-next-shooting-star
I thought I'd share with all of you that I'm going to be doing an interview on a blog talk radio show called JournalJabber. It airs tonight at 9pm (EST.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/journaljabber/2012/02/29/jessica-sorensen-is-the-next-shooting-star
Volunteers needed for L'Arche Community, Cainta, Rizal
Lala taking care of Jordan
I received an email the other day from Maria Linda 'Letlet' Paulino of the L'Arche Community, also known as 'Punla', the Tagalog for 'seed', in Cainta, Rizal. Cainta is part of the Metro Manila sprawl and and Punla is the only L'Arche community in the Philippines. I have visited Punla a number of times over the years and some of our Columban seminarians have worked there during their formation. I have also written a number of times about my friend Lala who was left in a garbage pail shortly after her birth in Cebu more than 30 years ago.
Here is part of Letlet's email.
You've seen the community, Fr Sean, and maybe you noticed that we live here together with our friends and we try to guide and support them to learn to be confident in whatever/however they can do to be self independent in making their choices/decisions and in attending to their basic daily needs with less supervision, except Jordan (in photo above) and Raymond whom we need to follow in their daily rhythm and structure which they've been familiar with and following everyday to feel the belongingness, security and at home.
We are giving the volunteer house assistants an allowance of P1,500.00 for the first three months plus board and lodging and as part of community program we let the assistants join the formation program and accompaniment for self awareness and personality growth. The first three months is a probationary period. There's an evaluation in the first month and then on the third months. If evaluation is okay, allowance will be increased to P2,500.00 starting on the fourth month to the 12th month. Each week there's a one day off and then after a month an additional 2 days off. The daily task is doing the household chores together with the other house assistants and the core members. (The core members are those with learning disabilities - the VIPs in L'arche). The first house is composed of four core members and the ideal number of house assistants is supposed to be five (three males and two females); the second house is for three core members and three house assistants.
Lala with Hachi
Letlet also wrote:
Our community is always in need of volunteers who can join us living in the community together with our friends with intellectual disabilities. I've been racking my brains about whom and where to contact to ask for help in looking for a potential person for us who is looking for meaning in life. The L'Arche community might possibly be able to help him or her in his/her search.
You may contact Letlet at larchepunla@yahoo.com.ph
This video from Erie, Pennsylvania, shows us something of the life of a L'Arche community. Being an assistant isn't easy but it is deeply enriching and a profound way of living the Gospel. For some assistants it has been a way of discovering the Gospel.
10 Scotts
High Tea at 10@Scotts eons ago - it was really great just that I didn't have time to blog about it. I shall try to clear up my backlogs (from months ago) by blogging about the places that I really enjoyed...
High tea was a highlight in my food diary - the menu is small but concise and it's unlimited servings of everything, including the tea (and you can change tea flavours too!). I would really love to re-visit this place, but there's so many other high tea places which I have yet to try :( The sandwiches are soft and fluffy and they have ham&cheese with a nice hot mustard spread, smoked salmon (not particularly impressive) and egg sandwiches. I'm such a sucker for soft fluffy sandwiches and I would just waste stomach space eating them up one after another...
The crab cakes are particularly nice - extremely sweet crab meat with crispy batter and a creamy herb based sauce - I got 2 servings of this! Lazy persons way to enjoy crab meat instead of painfully digging through the shells...
Their fruit bowl which was very refreshing - they have this little fridge with many desserts/fruits/mixed vegetable dips etc as well as chicken liver pate (which I didn't try cos I didn't want to waste the whole huge jar)....Of course, their service was impeccable and we enjoyed the buffet and rolled off to shop after...
The crab cakes are particularly nice - extremely sweet crab meat with crispy batter and a creamy herb based sauce - I got 2 servings of this! Lazy persons way to enjoy crab meat instead of painfully digging through the shells...
Their fruit bowl which was very refreshing - they have this little fridge with many desserts/fruits/mixed vegetable dips etc as well as chicken liver pate (which I didn't try cos I didn't want to waste the whole huge jar)....Of course, their service was impeccable and we enjoyed the buffet and rolled off to shop after...
I really want to try the St Regis high tea next! Just need to look for a weekend where I don't have to work...
10 Scotts
Grand Hyatt Singapore
10 Scotts Road
Tel 67321234
Beowulf through Seamus Heaney: "Fate goes ever as fate must"
Excerpt from BEOWULF (trans. Seamus Heaney)
The above link contains an excerpt from the opening of Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf, as well as an interview with Heaney on the work.
I should probably admit that I don't think I have read Beowulf from start to finish, even Seamus Heaney's translation, which was published in 1999 and was hugely successful. It has, however, intertwined with my life in various ways and I have read large sections of it, and I promise that I will sit down and read it from cover to cover one of these days...
I have been a Tolkien aficionado for a long time, and in some of his works he made liberal use of the typical alliterative style of Old English poetry, as well as its heroic, violent subject matter. I remember my brother studying the work, presumably when he was in high school, and recording a home-made radio play of the confrontation between Beowulf and Grendel's mother (impressive high-pitched screeches). Later, I studied portions of it in translation, and later looked a little bit at the original language in university. My Medieval Studies professor (a cool young guy who referred to Charlemagne as "Big Chuck") had a grasp of Old English and read from it to us. I have to admit that there is something about Old English that I find very stirring (for more information, see my long obsessions with heroes, medievalism, and yes...Manly Men.)
The first time I visited England was in 1997, with my family, while I was at university. This was before the new British Library had been built, and the manuscripts now displayed in the BL could be viewed in the British Museum. The British Museum, and particularly the manuscript displays, were a dream come true for me, but my brother and I were very disappointed that Beowulf and (I think) Sir Gawain and the Green Knight were both not on display when we were in London. Of course, these ancient and precious manuscripts are not constantly on display, as the displays are rotated periodically for restoration work and presumably to give the manuscripts a rest from the light. I have subsequently seen Beowulf several times, though, and I am always pleased if I happen to be at the British Library and find that it is on display.
One of the things that makes this work so extraordinary is that the original exists in only this single manuscript, dating back to the late tenth or early eleventh century. The history of its ownership has been traced back to the sixteenth century. I just find it amazing that it survived. There is something about old manuscripts which thrills me deeply - it is as though the authors, or at least transcribers who lived a lot closer to the time of the authors, are standing there and speaking to me face to face, hundreds or thousands of years falling away.
Seamus Heaney seems like the perfect poet to tackle Beowulf - his language is consistently resonant, internally rhythmic, deeply tied to history and ancestry, aware of the metaphoric and psychological power in nature and in man-made objects. As an Irish poet, he is also well placed to bring out the conflict and the dance between paganism and Christianity (overseen by the dark, constant shadow of fate or "wyrd") which runs throughout the poem and which also weaves through the history of the British Isles.
Beowulf is essential for anyone interested in the development of the English language - pick up the bilingual edition translated by Heaney, and thrill to the familiar words and phrases which occasionally leap out of what seems to be a forest of Germanic words. It is also a gem of the so-called "Dark Ages", an insight into the mind of medieval man, and an artifact which tells anyone who is a native English speaker or from a northern European background a little bit about where they came from.
Aoki lunch
Lunch at aoki - finally having a full weekend off after eons. What better way to start off the weekend sleeping lots and waking up to go for lunch @Aoki.
My default mazechirashi ($35++ or 42 after the pluses) which never fails. If every weekend can be like this life will extremely blissful.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
'Give Up Yer Aul Sins.' Sunday Reflections for 1st Sunday of Lent Year B
The Temptation of Christ, Tintoretto, painted 1579-81
Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)
Gospel Mark 1:12-15 (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)
The Spirit drove Jesus out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts, and the angels looked after him.
After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. 'The time has come' he said 'and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.'An Soiscéal Marcas 1:12-15 (Gaeilge, Irish)
Chuir an Spiorad Íosa amach faoin bhfásach é agus bhí sé daichead lá san fhásach á phromhadh ag Sátan. Agus bhí sé in éineacht leis na beithígh allta; agus bhí na haingil ag freastal air. Tar éis Eoin a bheith tugtha ar láimh, tháinig Íosa go dtí an Ghailíl ag fógairt soiscéal Dé agus ag rá: “Tá an tréimhse caite agus tá ríocht Dé in achmaireacht. Déanaigí aithrí agus creidigí sa soiscéal.”
+++
Back in the 1960s Peig Cunningham, from County Donegal in the north-west of Ireland, was teaching in a primary school right in the heart of Dublin, in an area where there was still great poverty, the place where the Venerable Matt Talbot lived most of his years. She recorded the children telling in their own words some of the Bible stories she had taught them.
The tapes were found some years after the death of Miss Cunningham and issued as a CD and tape, with Fr Brian Darcy CP doing much of the work. Later Brown Bag Productions made a series of videos using the recordings.
The language of the child telling the story of St John the Baptist is a Dublin dialect of English. The accent and the terms used may take some adjusting to. But the message that the young girl repeats a number of times, Give up yer aul sins (‘Give up your old sins’) – the title given to the CD and tape – is very clear and is precisely the message of Jesus in today’s gospel: Repent and believe the Good News.
St Mark puts the preaching of Jesus in the context of the arrest of St John the Baptist. Jesus echoes the preaching of St John in Mark 1: 4: and so it was that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
Below is a video on Matt Talbot (1856-1925) who lived only two or three minutes’ walk from the school where ‘Give Up Yer Aul Sins’ originated. He never attended that school, as far as I know, and his academic career in my own nearby alma mater, O’Connell Schools, was extremely short, since he was what is known in Dublin as a chronic ‘mitcher’ – one playing truant. But, with God’s help, he did manage to ‘give up his aul sins’ – mainly those connected with excessive drinking - and lead a life of extraordinary holiness. One of the most powerful graces from God in his life was regular confession.
May Matt, to whom I pray every day, obtain for each of us the grace to ‘give up our aul sins’, especially through the sacrament of confession.
The tapes were found some years after the death of Miss Cunningham and issued as a CD and tape, with Fr Brian Darcy CP doing much of the work. Later Brown Bag Productions made a series of videos using the recordings.
The language of the child telling the story of St John the Baptist is a Dublin dialect of English. The accent and the terms used may take some adjusting to. But the message that the young girl repeats a number of times, Give up yer aul sins (‘Give up your old sins’) – the title given to the CD and tape – is very clear and is precisely the message of Jesus in today’s gospel: Repent and believe the Good News.
St Mark puts the preaching of Jesus in the context of the arrest of St John the Baptist. Jesus echoes the preaching of St John in Mark 1: 4: and so it was that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
Below is a video on Matt Talbot (1856-1925) who lived only two or three minutes’ walk from the school where ‘Give Up Yer Aul Sins’ originated. He never attended that school, as far as I know, and his academic career in my own nearby alma mater, O’Connell Schools, was extremely short, since he was what is known in Dublin as a chronic ‘mitcher’ – one playing truant. But, with God’s help, he did manage to ‘give up his aul sins’ – mainly those connected with excessive drinking - and lead a life of extraordinary holiness. One of the most powerful graces from God in his life was regular confession.
May Matt, to whom I pray every day, obtain for each of us the grace to ‘give up our aul sins’, especially through the sacrament of confession.
Matt Talbot (2 May 1856 – 7 June 1925)
To learn more about this holy man who 'gave up his aul sins' read Mary Gaffney's article, Matt Talbot - the Workers' Saint.
Water water everywhere
First Sunday of Lent Year B
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written at the end of the 18th century. The poem relates the story of a ship wrecked sailor who has returned from a long sea voyage. His story, however, borders on the fantastic. He tells a story of a cursed voyage due to the mariner’s own fault of shooting down an albatross, a large sea bird, whom the crew had assigned the good fortune of leading their ship out of the cold waters of the Antarctica. The crew of the ship experienced one misfortune after another, and they eventually lay the entire blame of their predicament on the mariner’s action. The dead bird is hung around the neck of the mariner as a sign of his crime and atonement for the sin he had committed. At one particular juncture, when the ship was stuck in uncharted waters without any head wind, the crew lamented their condition with this most famous line from the poem:
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The irony of this passage is that finding themselves surrounded by a great body of water, they are denied a drink. The story progresses when the personification of Death comes to visit the crew members and one by one, all of them succumb to his embrace, but the Mariner lives on to gaze upon the death mask of his fellow crew members. He bears the effect of a greater curse – to walk alive among the dead. In a moment of prayer and faith when all seemed lost, the albatross falls from the neck of the mariner and his guilt is partially expiated. Finally, he makes his way back to human civilization where he discovers a new found mission. He wanders the earth to tell his story and teach a lesson to those he meets:
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner becomes an apt parable that illustrates the message contained in the readings of the First Sunday of Lent. It is not surprising then to find scripture choosing to use the metaphor of water to describe a deeper and more profound reality. Water is essential for life. Up to 60% of the body is made up of water. A person can survive up to 4 weeks without food but can only live up to 8 days without water. We need water to drink, water to cook, water to wash, water to make our vegetation grow and animals live. Perhaps, we will only appreciate the need for water when we are deprived of it. It is obvious that too little water is not good. On the other hand, too much water is also not good. Excess of water causes floods, destroys crops and exacts casualties among humans and animals alike.
Today, being the First Sunday of Lent, water becomes the symbol that ties together all the readings. The first and the second reading speak of the flood waters that almost destroyed the world. In the gospel, we are told of how the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness, the desert, where there is no water. Both of these situations seem to be extremes. On the one hand, too much water nearly destroyed the world. On the other hand, it is the lack of water which nearly destroys Jesus and leads him into temptation.
But in both cases, it is the destructive power of water or the lack of it that leads to salvation. In the story of Noah, God promises to Noah that he will never destroy the world again with flood waters. At the end of Jesus’ experience in the desert, he makes a public announcement of the good news, a message that will quench the desire of everyone who thirsts for the kingdom of God. Just like the Ancient Mariner of Coleridge’s poem, the old sailor emerges from his watery ordeal, a wiser man, a man reborn with a new mission, a man who discovers the goodness of God in all his creatures whom he had earlier disdained.
How are these stories connected with our Lenten experience? These stories point to the need for conversion and repentance. We are often weighed down by the burden of sin. We sometimes experience great guilt as if a dead albatross was practically hung around our necks as a sign of our folly and shame. But it is only, when we turn our hearts to the one who can redeem us, can we then be freed from the fetters of guilt and sin. The way of redemption is the way of conversion and repentance.
During this season of Lent, we must die to our selfishness and to our sinfulness. We must allow our old selves to be destroyed in the flood waters of purification. We must purify our intentions and courageously face our temptations as we journey into the wilderness of our lives with Jesus. At the end of this period of 40 days, we hope to die again in the waters of baptism together with the catechumens who will be baptized so that we will rise again with them to new life in the Spirit. It is at Easter, that the symbol of water becomes clear. St. Peter explains this in the second reading: “That water is a type of the baptism which saves you now, and which is not the washing off of physical dirt but a pledge made to God from a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ …”
Today, our catechumens begin this journey into the desert, into the waters of the flood as they will be presented to the Archbishop in Kuala Lumpur for the Rite of Election. Their facilitators have prepared them for the last eight months. They are now ready to take this step of faith into the unknown. But they will not walk alone. Their sponsors will walk with them. Their RCIA facilitators will walk with them. We will walk with them. Jesus will walk with them.
As we listen to the voice of Spirit leading us into the wilderness, let us take courage and not be disheartened by any temptations which may be placed before us. The Church proposes to us the ancient Lenten practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. It does so not to add to our burden but through these practices, we may be set free from sin and its effects. As Coleridge reminds us at the end of his poem, “He prayeth best, who loveth best.” Prayer opens the doors of our hearts so that we may be consumed by the love of God. Prayer frees us from the burden of sin which hangs around neck like a dead albatross. Prayer leads us to faith where we come to attest as St Paul does that “Christ himself, innocent though he was, died once for sins, died for the guilty, to lead us to God”.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written at the end of the 18th century. The poem relates the story of a ship wrecked sailor who has returned from a long sea voyage. His story, however, borders on the fantastic. He tells a story of a cursed voyage due to the mariner’s own fault of shooting down an albatross, a large sea bird, whom the crew had assigned the good fortune of leading their ship out of the cold waters of the Antarctica. The crew of the ship experienced one misfortune after another, and they eventually lay the entire blame of their predicament on the mariner’s action. The dead bird is hung around the neck of the mariner as a sign of his crime and atonement for the sin he had committed. At one particular juncture, when the ship was stuck in uncharted waters without any head wind, the crew lamented their condition with this most famous line from the poem:
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The irony of this passage is that finding themselves surrounded by a great body of water, they are denied a drink. The story progresses when the personification of Death comes to visit the crew members and one by one, all of them succumb to his embrace, but the Mariner lives on to gaze upon the death mask of his fellow crew members. He bears the effect of a greater curse – to walk alive among the dead. In a moment of prayer and faith when all seemed lost, the albatross falls from the neck of the mariner and his guilt is partially expiated. Finally, he makes his way back to human civilization where he discovers a new found mission. He wanders the earth to tell his story and teach a lesson to those he meets:
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner becomes an apt parable that illustrates the message contained in the readings of the First Sunday of Lent. It is not surprising then to find scripture choosing to use the metaphor of water to describe a deeper and more profound reality. Water is essential for life. Up to 60% of the body is made up of water. A person can survive up to 4 weeks without food but can only live up to 8 days without water. We need water to drink, water to cook, water to wash, water to make our vegetation grow and animals live. Perhaps, we will only appreciate the need for water when we are deprived of it. It is obvious that too little water is not good. On the other hand, too much water is also not good. Excess of water causes floods, destroys crops and exacts casualties among humans and animals alike.
Today, being the First Sunday of Lent, water becomes the symbol that ties together all the readings. The first and the second reading speak of the flood waters that almost destroyed the world. In the gospel, we are told of how the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness, the desert, where there is no water. Both of these situations seem to be extremes. On the one hand, too much water nearly destroyed the world. On the other hand, it is the lack of water which nearly destroys Jesus and leads him into temptation.
But in both cases, it is the destructive power of water or the lack of it that leads to salvation. In the story of Noah, God promises to Noah that he will never destroy the world again with flood waters. At the end of Jesus’ experience in the desert, he makes a public announcement of the good news, a message that will quench the desire of everyone who thirsts for the kingdom of God. Just like the Ancient Mariner of Coleridge’s poem, the old sailor emerges from his watery ordeal, a wiser man, a man reborn with a new mission, a man who discovers the goodness of God in all his creatures whom he had earlier disdained.
How are these stories connected with our Lenten experience? These stories point to the need for conversion and repentance. We are often weighed down by the burden of sin. We sometimes experience great guilt as if a dead albatross was practically hung around our necks as a sign of our folly and shame. But it is only, when we turn our hearts to the one who can redeem us, can we then be freed from the fetters of guilt and sin. The way of redemption is the way of conversion and repentance.
During this season of Lent, we must die to our selfishness and to our sinfulness. We must allow our old selves to be destroyed in the flood waters of purification. We must purify our intentions and courageously face our temptations as we journey into the wilderness of our lives with Jesus. At the end of this period of 40 days, we hope to die again in the waters of baptism together with the catechumens who will be baptized so that we will rise again with them to new life in the Spirit. It is at Easter, that the symbol of water becomes clear. St. Peter explains this in the second reading: “That water is a type of the baptism which saves you now, and which is not the washing off of physical dirt but a pledge made to God from a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ …”
Today, our catechumens begin this journey into the desert, into the waters of the flood as they will be presented to the Archbishop in Kuala Lumpur for the Rite of Election. Their facilitators have prepared them for the last eight months. They are now ready to take this step of faith into the unknown. But they will not walk alone. Their sponsors will walk with them. Their RCIA facilitators will walk with them. We will walk with them. Jesus will walk with them.
As we listen to the voice of Spirit leading us into the wilderness, let us take courage and not be disheartened by any temptations which may be placed before us. The Church proposes to us the ancient Lenten practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. It does so not to add to our burden but through these practices, we may be set free from sin and its effects. As Coleridge reminds us at the end of his poem, “He prayeth best, who loveth best.” Prayer opens the doors of our hearts so that we may be consumed by the love of God. Prayer frees us from the burden of sin which hangs around neck like a dead albatross. Prayer leads us to faith where we come to attest as St Paul does that “Christ himself, innocent though he was, died once for sins, died for the guilty, to lead us to God”.
Columban Fr Robert McCulloch Honoured by Pakistan
Pakistan has given Columban Fr Robert McCulloch its highest civilian award. He was with the first group of Columbans to be assigned to Pakistan in 1978. He had been in Mindanao, Philippines, from early 1971 till then. He was coming towards the end of his course in Cebuano Visayan, the predominant language in the central and southern Philippines, as I was starting in the Columban language school in Ozamiz City in October 1971. He recently moved to Rome as the Procurator General of the Columbans. The following press release was issued by Fr Gary Walker, Regional Director of the Columbans in Australia and New Zealand, on 17 February.
Australian born, Columban Fr Robert McCulloch has been awarded the Sitara-e-Quaid-e-Azam, the highest civilian award that can be given to foreign nationals with the citation: 'For services to Health, Education, and Inter-Faith Relations'.
Fr Robert McCulloch has been in Pakistan for over 30 years. He is Chairman of the Saint Elizabeth Hospital’s Administrative Council which provides quality medical services to the people of Hyderabad and rural parts of Sindh. He also runs a medical outreach programme in rural Sindh.
He set up the first home-based Palliative Care unit in Pakistan which provides care for cancer patients who are terminally ill. He initiated projects, in 2007, to provide educational, spiritual, moral and personal formation for 150 Catholic boys and young men in Hyderabad. Two centres were set up: the Catholic Centre of Academic Excellence in Hyderabad and the Catholic Youth Development Centre.
His other major contribution includes taking steps to preserve the language of Tharparker known as Parkari Kohli. He engaged experts around the world and worked on a script to turn this language into a written language.
During the floods of 2011 he arranged to provide food and medical treatment to over 1,000 families in Southern Pakistan and is building accommodation for the flood victims.
Fr McCulloch now resides in Rome after taking up an appointment as the Procurator General for St Columban's Mission Society in late 2011.
St Columban's Mission Society (the name we are known by in Australia and New Zealand) is an International Missionary Society that crosses boundaries of Culture and Religion.
Fr Robert McCulloch SSC can be contacted on skype: robert.mcculloch49, email: robertbr@cyber.net.pk .
Fr Gary Walker
You can read more about Fr McCulloch and his work here.
W B Yeats - 'High Talk' (and Facial Hair)
HIGH TALK (W B Yeats)
Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye.
What if my great-granddad had a pair that were twenty foot high,
And mine were but fifteen foot, no modern stalks upon higher,
Some rogue of the world stole them to patch up a fence or a fire.
Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged lions, make but poor shows,
Because children demand Daddy-long-legs upon his timber toes,
Because women in the upper storeys demand a face at the pane,
That patching old heels they may shriek, I take to chisel and plane.
Malachi Stilt-Jack am I, whatever I learned has run wild,
From collar to collar, from stilt to stilt, from father to child.
All metaphor, Malachi, stilts and all. A barnacle goose
Far up in the stretches of night; night splits and the dawn breaks
loose;
I, through the terrible novelty of light, stalk on, stalk on;
Those great sea-horses bare their teeth and laugh at the dawn.
I do not have much to say tonight, being comprehensively brain-dead. But I wanted to post this relatively little-known poem by Yeats, which has been one of my favourites for a good fifteen years or so. Wonderful and toweringly strange...
As well, this gives me an opportunity to post a rare picture of the young Yeats in his relatively little-known beard phase.
Borg Mannequin from Star Trek: The Experience on eBay
On our recent trip to Las Vegas to get the assets of Star Trek: The Experience, we wound up with some amazing Borg Mannequins that were made by Paramount for Star Trek: The Experience. All of the assets were brought back to the Propworx warehouse and then sorted and cataloged by Jarrod. Some of the assets are up for sale in our upcoming Propworx Star Trek auction. One of these Borg mannequins we put up for sale this week on eBay.
And what is really cool about these Mannequins is the face. Look familiar? It appears to be Robin Williams! Our speculation here is that Paramount used the face mold for Robin Williams from Bicentennial Man to make these Borg.
This particular mannequin needs a little attention, but is overall in good shape and would make an amazing display. Sorry, no regeneration modules left!
'Take a cue from you archbishop: get back to confession!
Last Saturday, 18 February, Archbishop Timothy Michael Dolan of New York (above) was made cardinal. Three days before the ceremony he posted the following on his blog. Perhaps we could all take a hint from his statement, 'take a cue from your archbishop: get back to confession!'
Love, Prayers, and Best Wishes from Rome
Well, I did it again . . .
It’s usually one of the very first things I do on my first full day back in Rome…
Early in the morning, I walk down the Janiculum Hill – where I stay at the North American College – to Saint Peter’s Basilica, there to go to confession and then to celebrate Mass.
Two powerful sacraments, Eucharist and Reconciliation, constants of our spiritual life, at the heart of the church, near the tomb of Saint Peter.
I don’t want you to think that I only approach confession when I’m in Rome!
At home with you in New York I try to go every two weeks, because I need it.
But it does have a special urgency and meaning here in Rome.
Near the tomb of Saint Peter, I can hear Jesus ask Him three times: “Simon, do you love me?” and then examine my conscience to see how I have failed to love the Lord and take care of his sheep.
Near his tomb, I picture myself, like Saint Peter, doubting Jesus and sinking in the waters of the storm.
Adjacent to his burial place, I even admit that, like Peter, I have, in my thoughts, words, and actions, denied Jesus.
So my contrition is strong, my purpose of amendment firm, and I approach one of the Franciscans for confession in the corner of the massive basilica.
Then I say my penance before the tomb of Peter, under the high altar, and go to vest for the greatest prayer of all, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.
And then I go for pasta . . .
Lent begins next Wednesday. I’ll be back to start it with you.
Sometime over those forty days leading up to Easter, take a cue from your archbishop: get back to confession!
My love, prayers, and best wishes from Rome.
The Winner of the giveaway is ...
Cora Gunari. Congrats! If you'll email me your address, I'll get this mailed out to you.
For everyone else, I'll be doing another giveaway like this very soon, so keep an eye out.
For everyone else, I'll be doing another giveaway like this very soon, so keep an eye out.
Dirt can be Holy Stuff
Ash Wednesday
On Ash Wednesday small children are thrilled to receive ashes. Adults too, I must confess. There is something about receiving sacramentals and praying with them which excite the Catholic imagination. Ordinarily deprived of the opportunity to receive communion like the adults, children display great excitement that they can get in line to receive something from the priest, albeit once a year. In my former parish of Visitation Seremban, a young child once complained to the grandmother, ‘How come you get to eat the good stuff every Sunday? But when it comes to me, I get the dirty stuff on my face. And I have to wait a whole year for this?’
How then do we talk about the meaning of ashes to children or even to adults? Ashes have traditionally been a sign of repentance. Although children generally know that they need to say sorry when they’ve been naughty, the idea of repentance may be too much to grasp for a little one who has not reached the age of reason (generally 8-9 years) and thus are not to be faulted for their actions.
But there is something more to ashes than just penance and repentance. It is a reminder of our mortality – all of us will die one day and our mortal bodies will return to dust. Our mortality then adds urgency to the need for repentance. We need to repent because we will not live forever. We must choose to repent today, because we are never sure whether we’ll live to see tomorrow.
Ashes from the burned palms of last year’s Palm Sunday carry the reminder that the grandiose hopes of triumphal parades can so easily turn to betrayal, persecution, and burial. Ashes, made by burning palms blessed the previous Palm Sunday, symbolize the transience of our earthly status. The body must fall temporarily into dust. This fact should serve as a challenge to spiritual accomplishments. Through grace we were "buried" in Christ that we may rise with him and "live unto God." "They are not a sign of death," Fr. Merton says, "but a promise of life."
It is interesting to note that no matter how beautiful, varied and different everything we see may appear to be, all are reduced to indistinguishable ashes when subjected to fire. A beautiful and priceless painting, a human body, stacks of money, expensive clothes and flowering trees, all become in-differentiable when reduced to ashes. It may normally seem strange to admire ashes. It’s just dust – no shape, no beauty, no use, no value. Yet, ashes take on an entirely new meaning when we view it through the eyes of faith. Ashes remind us that all the things which we treasure in this life, our money, our possessions, our environment and even our loved ones are impermanent. Ashes then become a sacramental reminder and teacher – for they teach us to understand that we cannot place our trust and hope in things which will eventually disappear, things that will become ashes. Ashes point to our own mortal lives – in spite of how long we may live or how healthy we may be, one day, all of us, without any exception would become ashes.
Ashes and the mortality of human life which it represents also have a democratising effect. Each of us may come from different social backgrounds. Some of us are rich while others poor. Some may hold very important positions while others perform clerical task and other manual work. No matter who you are or where you come from, all are invited to come forward to place ashes on your forehead. Rich or poor, young or old, powerful or weak, stranger or friend - all equally sinners in need of salvation. Notice that the priests are the first to have the ashes placed on their forehead, which serves as a reminder that we priests too are sinners. In this way, we are all equal in the eyes of God. We all require forgiveness and redemption. We all need to die to our old sinful self in order to be reborn into the new life with Christ. When all is reduce to ashes, there are no longer differences among us.
It is always a bit amazing how many people are eager to receive ashes. You wouldn’t think that we need or are eager to hear reminders of mortality. After all, we get those all the time. Loved ones die. Our own bodies show signs of wear. We are in the midst of broken situations and broken communities, and we never have to look far to see decay and corruption. Despite the many reminders of mortality which surround us, we also live in a culture of denial. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” simply puts the truth on the table. It is an awesome, if unwelcome, starting point for a relationship with God’s grace.
In the light of Christ, in the hope of Christ, our mortality is not something to be feared or denied. In fact, mortality, with its inevitable suffering, is something we share with every one of our human brothers and sisters. While we might think of mortality in connection with the isolation of loss, the dust we share can be a point of connection.
We are not at our best, we are not at our most glorious, we are not most fully human only when things are going well and we are lost in the rapture of joy. We may also be at our best precisely when things are at their worst. How we respond to suffering, disaster, and death can be just as glorious as our best hymn-singing.
This season of Lent is therefore an opportunity for us to die to sin. When we die to sin we also die to the illusions and lies caused by sin. Sin tells us that we only need to think of our own needs without having to think of others. Sin tells us to make a big show of our spiritual exercises e.g. prayer, fasting, coming to church etc. Sin blinds us to the kingdom of God and tempts us with worldly values that are impermanent. Today, on this first day of Lent, let us pray that the Lord will burn away our sins and the illusions caused by such sin. Ashes reveal the truth. As our sin and illusions are reduced to ashes, our focus is now turned toward God. In God, we shall find everything that is good and beautiful. In God, shall we have the promise of eternal life which will not be reduced to ashes.
To outsiders, Catholics must look like mad people who love to dirty their face with dust, dirt and ashes. We are often corrected if we were to tolerate messiness and dirtiness. But today, you receive just that license to get dirty. Dust is looking better all the time – especially when it is joined to God’s promise that even dust can be holy stuff.
On Ash Wednesday small children are thrilled to receive ashes. Adults too, I must confess. There is something about receiving sacramentals and praying with them which excite the Catholic imagination. Ordinarily deprived of the opportunity to receive communion like the adults, children display great excitement that they can get in line to receive something from the priest, albeit once a year. In my former parish of Visitation Seremban, a young child once complained to the grandmother, ‘How come you get to eat the good stuff every Sunday? But when it comes to me, I get the dirty stuff on my face. And I have to wait a whole year for this?’
How then do we talk about the meaning of ashes to children or even to adults? Ashes have traditionally been a sign of repentance. Although children generally know that they need to say sorry when they’ve been naughty, the idea of repentance may be too much to grasp for a little one who has not reached the age of reason (generally 8-9 years) and thus are not to be faulted for their actions.
But there is something more to ashes than just penance and repentance. It is a reminder of our mortality – all of us will die one day and our mortal bodies will return to dust. Our mortality then adds urgency to the need for repentance. We need to repent because we will not live forever. We must choose to repent today, because we are never sure whether we’ll live to see tomorrow.
Ashes from the burned palms of last year’s Palm Sunday carry the reminder that the grandiose hopes of triumphal parades can so easily turn to betrayal, persecution, and burial. Ashes, made by burning palms blessed the previous Palm Sunday, symbolize the transience of our earthly status. The body must fall temporarily into dust. This fact should serve as a challenge to spiritual accomplishments. Through grace we were "buried" in Christ that we may rise with him and "live unto God." "They are not a sign of death," Fr. Merton says, "but a promise of life."
It is interesting to note that no matter how beautiful, varied and different everything we see may appear to be, all are reduced to indistinguishable ashes when subjected to fire. A beautiful and priceless painting, a human body, stacks of money, expensive clothes and flowering trees, all become in-differentiable when reduced to ashes. It may normally seem strange to admire ashes. It’s just dust – no shape, no beauty, no use, no value. Yet, ashes take on an entirely new meaning when we view it through the eyes of faith. Ashes remind us that all the things which we treasure in this life, our money, our possessions, our environment and even our loved ones are impermanent. Ashes then become a sacramental reminder and teacher – for they teach us to understand that we cannot place our trust and hope in things which will eventually disappear, things that will become ashes. Ashes point to our own mortal lives – in spite of how long we may live or how healthy we may be, one day, all of us, without any exception would become ashes.
Ashes and the mortality of human life which it represents also have a democratising effect. Each of us may come from different social backgrounds. Some of us are rich while others poor. Some may hold very important positions while others perform clerical task and other manual work. No matter who you are or where you come from, all are invited to come forward to place ashes on your forehead. Rich or poor, young or old, powerful or weak, stranger or friend - all equally sinners in need of salvation. Notice that the priests are the first to have the ashes placed on their forehead, which serves as a reminder that we priests too are sinners. In this way, we are all equal in the eyes of God. We all require forgiveness and redemption. We all need to die to our old sinful self in order to be reborn into the new life with Christ. When all is reduce to ashes, there are no longer differences among us.
It is always a bit amazing how many people are eager to receive ashes. You wouldn’t think that we need or are eager to hear reminders of mortality. After all, we get those all the time. Loved ones die. Our own bodies show signs of wear. We are in the midst of broken situations and broken communities, and we never have to look far to see decay and corruption. Despite the many reminders of mortality which surround us, we also live in a culture of denial. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” simply puts the truth on the table. It is an awesome, if unwelcome, starting point for a relationship with God’s grace.
In the light of Christ, in the hope of Christ, our mortality is not something to be feared or denied. In fact, mortality, with its inevitable suffering, is something we share with every one of our human brothers and sisters. While we might think of mortality in connection with the isolation of loss, the dust we share can be a point of connection.
We are not at our best, we are not at our most glorious, we are not most fully human only when things are going well and we are lost in the rapture of joy. We may also be at our best precisely when things are at their worst. How we respond to suffering, disaster, and death can be just as glorious as our best hymn-singing.
This season of Lent is therefore an opportunity for us to die to sin. When we die to sin we also die to the illusions and lies caused by sin. Sin tells us that we only need to think of our own needs without having to think of others. Sin tells us to make a big show of our spiritual exercises e.g. prayer, fasting, coming to church etc. Sin blinds us to the kingdom of God and tempts us with worldly values that are impermanent. Today, on this first day of Lent, let us pray that the Lord will burn away our sins and the illusions caused by such sin. Ashes reveal the truth. As our sin and illusions are reduced to ashes, our focus is now turned toward God. In God, we shall find everything that is good and beautiful. In God, shall we have the promise of eternal life which will not be reduced to ashes.
To outsiders, Catholics must look like mad people who love to dirty their face with dust, dirt and ashes. We are often corrected if we were to tolerate messiness and dirtiness. But today, you receive just that license to get dirty. Dust is looking better all the time – especially when it is joined to God’s promise that even dust can be holy stuff.
Giveaway
So this is the start of a sequence of giveaways I'm going to be holding. Todays giveaway is for all the items in the photo below:
(Mug, poster, t-shirt, bookmark, stickers).
To enter, just post a quote from any of the books from the Fallen Star Series. You can post the quote on either my blog or facebook page.
You have until tomorrow morning to enter.
(Mug, poster, t-shirt, bookmark, stickers).
To enter, just post a quote from any of the books from the Fallen Star Series. You can post the quote on either my blog or facebook page.
You have until tomorrow morning to enter.
The Promise Teaser
Alright, here's another teaser from The Promise.
“So what is it?” Alex asked.
“It’s a candle,” I stated the obvious.
He rolled his eyes and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Obviously, Gemma. But what’s so special about it.” He picked up the small black candle, with a short wick that would probably only burn for a few hours. “Is it just a candle? Or is it something else?”
I stood up and picked up the lighter. “A witch gave it to me.” I didn’t bother mentioning the bargain I made to get the candle. I’d worry about that when the time came. “She said its navitas irretitus, which is supposed to trap energy.”
He was already shaking his head. “Those no longer exist. I know because I looked into it when,” he gestured back and forth between us. “I found out about you and I and wanted to see … if we could … I don’t know, be together somehow.”
“She said it was the only one left,” I explained.
We both stared at the candle, the electricity blazing as it slowly tried to kill us.
“Why’d she give it to you?” He pinched the wick with his fingers. “And how do we know if it really is a navitas irretitus.”
“She gave it to me as a gift,” I lie. My hand shook as I lit the lighter and moved the flame for the wick. “And there’s only one way to find out if it works.”
We held our breaths as the wick ignited. There was no magical sparks, no enchanting sound effects. There was only silence and the beating of our hearts.
Just like the witch said, the electricity of the star was momentarily trapped inside our bodies, unable to intensify—unable to kill us. But only momentarily.
“As soon as the wicks gone, it’ll stop,” I said. “And the electricity will come back.”
He nodded, still staring at the flame. “I know.”
We locked eyes, taking in the silence, thinking of the endless list of possibilities.
“So what is it?” Alex asked.
“It’s a candle,” I stated the obvious.
He rolled his eyes and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Obviously, Gemma. But what’s so special about it.” He picked up the small black candle, with a short wick that would probably only burn for a few hours. “Is it just a candle? Or is it something else?”
I stood up and picked up the lighter. “A witch gave it to me.” I didn’t bother mentioning the bargain I made to get the candle. I’d worry about that when the time came. “She said its navitas irretitus, which is supposed to trap energy.”
He was already shaking his head. “Those no longer exist. I know because I looked into it when,” he gestured back and forth between us. “I found out about you and I and wanted to see … if we could … I don’t know, be together somehow.”
“She said it was the only one left,” I explained.
We both stared at the candle, the electricity blazing as it slowly tried to kill us.
“Why’d she give it to you?” He pinched the wick with his fingers. “And how do we know if it really is a navitas irretitus.”
“She gave it to me as a gift,” I lie. My hand shook as I lit the lighter and moved the flame for the wick. “And there’s only one way to find out if it works.”
We held our breaths as the wick ignited. There was no magical sparks, no enchanting sound effects. There was only silence and the beating of our hearts.
Just like the witch said, the electricity of the star was momentarily trapped inside our bodies, unable to intensify—unable to kill us. But only momentarily.
“As soon as the wicks gone, it’ll stop,” I said. “And the electricity will come back.”
He nodded, still staring at the flame. “I know.”
We locked eyes, taking in the silence, thinking of the endless list of possibilities.
Har jeong Kai nuggets
EwF has just made fast food tastier and even more tempting by making a boneless version of everyones favourite Tze char dish.
It comes with honey mayonnaise which is pretty mediocre but the chicken is soft and tender and unlike the Tze char ones, you won't need to pick the meat off the bones.
Taste is good though it's really oily it should come with the warning label "heart attack in a box".
I think EwF is doing much better than its counterpart Loola's - tried the one at Esplanade last month and it was quite dissappointing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Star Crusades: The First Trilogy…and onwards!
The First Trilogy Artwork |
I have several exciting pieces of news for you concerning my latest novels. The first is that my publisher is releasing the first three novels in the Star Crusades series as a combined edition. This is the cheapest way so far of obtaining these exciting novels. The combined edition contains some great new artwork that shows our eponymous hero Spartan, in yet another of his favoured warzones. Previously you could purchase the entire five-book series at a much higher price. This has now changed in readiness for the next piece of news…
As you might have already guessed, the title for the combined edition kind of gives the game away. If you haven’t already guessed it, there cannot be a first trilogy unless there is more than one. So in answer to all your questions, yes, there will be a sixth novel and yes it will form the last part of the second trilogy. This means ‘Fall of Terra Nova’ will actually be the middle title in the second set of books. I will announce more of this over the next few weeks once the second book in the Black Legion is released. For now just know that book six is coming and that there will be more to follow!
Darkness Falls Teaser
A teaser from my new series, Darkness Falls. You can also read Chapter 1 on my blog.
“Time to die, Kayla.”
I’m not sure which one of the assholes says it.
They seize the chains and take me up the stairs, but I don’t make it easy for them. I kick and fight the whole way. But it doesn’t do any good. As strong as I am, there are too many of them. They drag me through the ridiculing crowd and back to the glass room. But just as they’re about to lock me up, Aiden runs up.
“Hold on,” he says, but one of the guards steps in front of him, sticks a hand out and shoves him back. “I just want to say good-bye to her. That’s all.” The guard doesn’t budge and he continues, “Please,” he says in his angelic voice. “She used to be a friend of mine.”
Winning the guard over, he steps aside and lets Aiden by.
I back up, not wanting him near me. “Stay away from me.”
He pulls me in for a hug anyway, backing us into a corner and pressing our bodies together, like we’re lovers. I think about kneeing him between the legs until he whispers, “The keys to cuffs.” He slips them and something else into the pocket of my jacket. “And a knife.”
Then he’s gone, pushing past the guards and disappearing down the hall. He doesn’t leave me an explanation or any instructions on what to do next. I think it’s right then and there that I realize just how well he knows me.
Because I can do a lot of damage with a knife. No instructions needed.
“Time to die, Kayla.”
I’m not sure which one of the assholes says it.
They seize the chains and take me up the stairs, but I don’t make it easy for them. I kick and fight the whole way. But it doesn’t do any good. As strong as I am, there are too many of them. They drag me through the ridiculing crowd and back to the glass room. But just as they’re about to lock me up, Aiden runs up.
“Hold on,” he says, but one of the guards steps in front of him, sticks a hand out and shoves him back. “I just want to say good-bye to her. That’s all.” The guard doesn’t budge and he continues, “Please,” he says in his angelic voice. “She used to be a friend of mine.”
Winning the guard over, he steps aside and lets Aiden by.
I back up, not wanting him near me. “Stay away from me.”
He pulls me in for a hug anyway, backing us into a corner and pressing our bodies together, like we’re lovers. I think about kneeing him between the legs until he whispers, “The keys to cuffs.” He slips them and something else into the pocket of my jacket. “And a knife.”
Then he’s gone, pushing past the guards and disappearing down the hall. He doesn’t leave me an explanation or any instructions on what to do next. I think it’s right then and there that I realize just how well he knows me.
Because I can do a lot of damage with a knife. No instructions needed.
Carolyn Forché, 'Travel Papers' and Poetry of Witness
The child asked if the bones in the wall
Belonged to the lights in the tunnel
Yes, I said, and the stars nailed shut his heaven
-Carolyn Forché, 'Curfew'
I started reading American poet Carolyn Forché's work only a few months ago and already cannot remember how I came across it (not a good indication for my memory). I think it is possible that I was browsing through poems about travel on the Poetry Foundation website and came across 'Travel Papers'. It is also possible that I saw her cited as a poet influenced by Paul Celan; or that I was tracing the term often associated with her work, 'poetry of witness'; or something else.
My discovery of Forché brought a sense of real excitement which comes only occasionally in my artistic experiences. I can describe this only with difficulty, but I suppose it is a combination of wonder and shock. Compassionate, tender, horrific, luminous, bleak; all of these words come to mind. Her most famous poem is 'The Colonel', which is representative of her subject matter if not so much of her style. It is a shocking piece about an encounter which Forché had during her time with Amnesty International in El Salvador, during the civil war. Apparently it is a kind of "found poem"; her publisher came upon it among her notes and thought that it was a completed poem, and they made the decision to publish it as such.
Many of Forché's poems describe atrocities, crimes against humanity, trauma and its aftermath. 'The Garden Shukkei-En' is about Hiroshima; 'Letter to a City Under Siege' is about the siege of Sarajevo; and there are many other examples. She has also edited Against Forgetting, a seminal anthology of poems by and about those who suffered through the terrible events of the twentieth century and survived or died. In an interview with Bloodaxe Books, one of her publishers, she commented on this area of poetics: "I read the poems for the mark of this extremity, for its impress, rather than for positions advocated or subjects addressed. I was interested in the legibility, in the poetry, of this experience, and also in the realm of the social, between the institutions of the state (and politics) and the private life of citizens. This is 'poetry of witness'."
This, to me, is a particularly compassionate, enlightening and useful approach to political poetry. It is not so much politics as testimony, as it encompasses a variety of experiences, even though these may conflict in terms of their political viewpoint. Such poems remind the reader that events which disfigure the world and its people have happened, continue to happen, and continue to affect us after they are apparently over. So far, I have read a fairly small number of Forché's poems, but it is very noticeable that they frequently see through the eyes of women and children, who constituted the majority of the twentieth century's war victims. It is always the innocent who suffer the most. This makes me think of the words of Solomon in Ecclesiastes: "And I myself returned that I might see all the acts of oppression that are being done under the sun, and, look! the tears of those being oppressed, but they had no comforter; and on the side of their oppressors there was power, so that they had no comforter." (Ecclesiastes 4:1).
TRAVEL PAPERS (Carolyn Forché)
'Travel Papers', which can be found on the above link, is a more restful poem about travel, memory, and the death of a friend; but it is also haunted by the twentieth century and the start of the twenty-first. It was published only a year ago and was written for Daniel Simko, a Slovak poet who emigrated with his family to the US after the occupation of Czechoslovakia in 1968. He died in 2004 at the age of 45. He wrote in English, as he was relatively young when he left his home country. Simko and Forché had a long friendship involving much travel and collaboration.
'Travel Papers' caught my eye in part because of its opening line: "By boat to Seurasaari...". Seurasaari is an island just outside the Finnish capital of Helsinki, famous as a beautiful park, for its collection of historic buildings, and for its red squirrels. My mother is from Finland and we spent part of every summer there visiting my grandmother in Turku, until she died in 1995. In the subsequent 17 years I've only been back once, a trip which did include a quick visit to Helsinki and Seurasaari.
(Incidentally, the painting which I have included with this entry is by the extraordinary Finnish painter Akseli Gallen-Kallela. It depicts Lake Keitele, which is in another part of Finland, but seemed to go nicely with this entry anyway. The painting is now in the National Gallery in London, where it has been hugely popular, and this blog can't convey its uniquely glowing quality. Gallen-Kallela is much less well known than he deserves to be - this painting, as lovely as it is, is far from being one of his greatest. However, this year a number of European galleries including the Musée d'Orsay in Paris will host an unprecedented exhibition of his work, which is a very good sign.)
A few lines in, Forché seems to make reference to the Biblical account of Elijah, who fled from Queen Jezebel and spoke with God on the mountainside: "And after the fire a still small voice." (1 Kings 19:12, KJV). The still small voice - the voice of God - is sometimes used by artists to represent the motivation for their artistic drive.
Still voice. Fire that is no fire.
Ahead years unknown to be lived -
Images flicker past as through the window of a car or train. Snapshots of violent death juxtaposed with the serenity of nature are appropriate for the work and preoccupations of both poets. The birch trees recur again and again, like a repeated theme in a piece of music. The sense of elegy throughout, particularly toward the end, is piercing. I found these lines, about the aftermath of shock on hearing of a loved one's death, to be familiar:
Hours after your death you seemed
everywhere at once like the swifts at twilight.
Now your moments are clouds
in a photograph of swifts.
I can certainly hear echoes of Paul Celan, one of the greatest "poets of witness", in the direct address to the you and the intertwined words. Some lines came back to me through this poem:
I am still writing with your hand,
as you stand in your still-there of lighted words.
(from 'Travel Papers')
I see you, you pick them with
my new, my
everyman's hands, you put them
into the Bright-Once-More which no one
needs to weep or to name.
(Paul Celan, from 'The Bright Stones')
I look forward to reading more of Forché's work and will try to seek out the Against Forgetting anthology, as well. I think that what she is trying to do in the realm of poetics is something essential.
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