dual personalities

Make My Heart a House of Prayer*

by chuckofish

Henry_Thomas_Bosdet_painting_of_Jesus_before_his_crucifixion_2.jpg

Henry Thomas Bosdet, Jesus Before his Crucifixion

Good Friday. It should be a day of reflection, but I have to work, as usual.

Here are a few poems and images to help us stay focused.

Good Friday
Christina Rossetti

Am I a stone, and not a sheep,
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy blood’s slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon –
I, only I.

Yet give not o’er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.

John Singer Sargent, 1903, Boston Public Library

Good Friday
George Herbert

Oh my chief good,
How shall I measure out thy blood?
How shall I count what thee befell,
And each grief tell?

Shall I thy woes
Number according to thy foes?
Or, since one star show’d thy first breath,
Shall all thy death?

Or shall each leaf,
Which falls in Autumn, score a grief?
Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be sign,
Of the true vine?

Then let each hour
Of my whole life one grief devour;
That thy distress through all may run,
And be my sun.

Or rather let
My several sins their sorrows get;
That, as each beast his cure doth know,
Each sin may so.

Since blood is fittest, Lord, to write
Thy sorrows in, and bloody fight;
My heart hath store; write there, where in
One box doth lie both ink and sin:

That when Sin spies so many foes,
Thy whips, thy nails, thy wounds, thy woes,
All come to lodge there, Sin may say,
No room for me, and fly away.

Sin being gone, O fill the place,
And keep possession with thy grace;
Lest sin take courage and return,
And all the writings blot or burn.

The Crucifixion, from the Life of Our Lord, published by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, London, 1880

So whatever you do today, keep in mind that it is Good Friday.

The Robe (1953)

But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. (Galatians 6:14)

*Charles Wesley

3 Comments

“And when the hour came”*

by chuckofish

Most depictions in art of the Last Supper are pretty terrible in my opinion, but I kind of like this one.

The Last Supper by Pascal-Adolphe-Jean Dagnan-Bouveret (1952-1929)

Here’s a Protestant version by Lucas Cranach the Younger, 1565, with leading Reformers portrayed as the Apostles, and the Elector of Saxony kneeling.

I wonder whose face he used for Judas? The pope?

Here’s Albrecht Durer’s woodcut of the Last Supper.

Tonight I will skip the Maundy Thursday service at church with its foot washing etc, but I will do my hour, staying awake in quiet prayer with Jesus at our overnight vigil in the chapel.

It’s the least I can do.

*Luke 22:14

2 Comments

This and that

by chuckofish

Recently I discovered that Brenda Ueland, author of If You Want to Write, wrote an autobiography. I found a used copy online and ordered it.

Brenda Ueland was a wonderful free-spirited girl growing up in Minnesota, and she seems to have always managed to keep that inner light. Many women lose it for various reasons: anxiety, depression, responsibility…but Brenda remained true to herself and honest. I find her fascinating. Although we are very different, we see eye-to-eye on most important things.

In other news, did you know that yesterday was the 55th anniversary of the release of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance? Please note that this was the first occasion of John Wayne calling someone “Pilgrim” in a film.

Tonight would be a good occasion to watch this great, great movie. I like to think of my parents going to see it in 1962. Did my brother go? He was 11. I remember going to see it at the movies, but it must have been when it was re-released at some point. I think I was about 8 or 9 or 10, because I was really still too young. I mean I was quite traumatized by Lee Marvin who was so scary.

There is real violence in this movie–too bad beatings of James Stewart and Edmund O’Brien, you will recall. Martin Scorsese, who is a big fan of director John Ford, never learned that it’s what you don’t see that is so scary.

Anyway, it also makes for good Holy Week fare, since this movie is about personal sacrifice and all that. John Wayne gives up everything for love, (spoiler alert) shooting Liberty Valance and burning down his house.

I will also note the passing of Don Rickles the other day. He appeared in one of my favorite WWII submarine movies early in his career in a straight part. Can you spot him in this German-dubbed scene from Run Silent, Run Deep (1958)?

This would be another good movie to watch–while toasting old Don, alias Mr. Potato Head.

And, finally, here’s a good word from Joyce Meyer.

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God has blessed me, and I am happy!

5 Comments

April 11, 2017

Stuff

by chuckofish

Design Sponge had a story recently on 10 Family Heirlooms That Tell Stories. This got me thinking, because, of course, we have often written on the subject of liking our “old stuff,” our “heirlooms,” and the importance of telling our children stories about their families and bringing them up to appreciate their histories and, well, “old stuff.”

Clearly not everyone feels this way. But I even like other people’s old stuff and that is why I go to estate sales and like to think of myself rescuing old needlepoint pillows and even old plants. (Leave it to me to ascribe heroic intent to this activity.)

But I love my old stuff and I think my children appreciate it.

Enjoy your home, I say. Enjoy your things. After a long, stressful day at the salt mine, isn’t it nice to come home? Yes, it is.

7 Comments

April 10, 2017

All glory, laud and honor To thee, Redeemer King

by chuckofish

We had a beautiful flyover spring weekend–the temperatures soaring into the 80s on Sunday–perfect for patio sitting. No bugs, very little humidity. Just right.

Even the OM felt moved to get busy, hanging up this cool welcome sign on the back of the house, which I gave him umpteen years ago.

My friends took me out for an early birthday lunch, venturing out to St. Albans in Franklin County where we had lunch at Head’s Store, built in 1892.

After a yummy meal we stopped at an antique mall on the way home for some browsing. A perfect afternoon.

At church on Palm Sunday a sizable congregation processed from outside to inside the church with palm fronds and a loyal crew of lay readers read the Passion of our Lord Jesus according to Saint Matthew. I think there was less mayhem than usual jockeying for position at the microphone and, with the exception of my friend Chris as Pontius Pilate, there was less method acting. I was able to rise above the fray, because I am now that old lady with the red half glasses who as the Narrator sets the pace at the lectern. This pleases me no end.

So now, onward to Holy Week.

Let Thy blood in mercy poured,
Let Thy gracious body broken,
Be to me, O gracious Lord,
Of Thy boundless love the token.

–Presbyterian Hymnal, #362, John Brownlie

Sunday night the boy and his wee family came over for spaghetti. The wee babes continue to be the perfect end-of-weekend entertainment. (At least their grandparents think so.)

Have a great week!

5 Comments

April 8, 2017

Among chains and rope, lashed here all winter*

by chuckofish

Contrary to what the title of this post might imply, I had a lovely week. Son #3 and his lovely ladies (girlfriend and cat) visited us. We had a great time despite nearly constant rain, snow, and wind. The cat, Eve (short for Evelyn), kept us entertained with her antics. She loves to run from window to window tracking the outside world, and she can kill a super ball with the speed of light, but shadows perturb her. Most of all, we continue to marvel at her ability as a contortionist.

As sleeping poses go…this one is a tad extreme, even for a cat.

Tim and Abbie even managed some household archaeology; they cleaned out the closet in his room. Finds included this unopened package of Cashews

complete with a 2008 sell by date!!! Words fail me. Suffice it to say that I am super delighted with the newly organized closet and the boxes of items (sans decades old food) now ready for the church rummage sail. Huzzah!

Alas, all fun has to come to an end sometime, and they left yesterday. Deep in a post-visitor funk, I turned to Netflix last night, hoping to find something diverting to watch. Wonder of wonders, I happened upon a good BBC mystery called “Shetland”. The name isn’t very imaginative as the show takes place in the Shetland Islands, but if you want incredible scenery, characters, and a plot that moves at a realistic (that is relatively slow) pace, this one’s for you! It also has good music. Check out the opening credits (a little blurry):

John Lunn, the composer, has also written scores for “Downton Abbey” and “Grantchester”. You can check out his music here. After watching just two episodes, I’m ready for a road trip to the Shetlands. Who wants to go with me? I could retire to such a place.

* Alistair Peebles, “Ham Voe Haiku” (2000). The image seems to capture the Shetlands perfectly.

3 Comments

April 7, 2017

Savior, let me walk with thee*

by chuckofish

Well, here we are about to enter Holy Week and I haven’t watched even one of my favorite lenten movies! I guess I will have to make up for lost time this weekend…I think I will probably work my way through Jesus of Nazareth, Franco Zefferelli’s epic 1977 mini-series…

This film still looks like a Rembrandt drawing, doesn’t it?

…and, of course, finish up with Ben-Hur (1959) on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. I am, after all, a creature of habit.

Sidenote: They remade Ben-Hur last year–did anyone see it? I didn’t think so. It was, indeed, the summer’s biggest box office bomb, and one of the biggest flops of 2016. When is Hollywood going to figure out that you can’t/shouldn’t try to re-make classics? No one wants to see a digitized chariot race.

Please. We want the real thing.

Anyway, this Sunday is Palm Sunday and I am the Narrator of The Passion of Jesus Christ According to Saint Matthew which is very cool. In my world anyway.

Wall painting by Hippolyte Flandrin, early 19c.

Here’s a little Buechner to get you in the mood for Palm Sunday:

“Blessed be the King who comes in the name of the Lord,” the cry goes up. There is dust in the air with the sun turning it gold. Around a bend in the road, there suddenly is Jerusalem. He draws back on the reins. Crying disfigures his face. “Would that even today you knew the things that make for peace.” Even today, he says, because there are so few days left. Then the terror of his vision as he looks at the city that is all cities and sees not one stone left standing on another – you and your children within you – your children. “Because you did not know the time of your visitation,” he says. Because we don’t know who it is who comes to visit us. Because we do not know what he comes to give. The things that make for peace, that is what he comes to give. We do not know these things, he says, and God knows he’s right. The absence of peace within our own skins no less than within our nations testifies to that. But we know their names at least. We all of us know in our hearts the holy names of the things that make for peace – real peace – only for once let us honor them by not naming them. Let us name instead only him who is himself the Prince of Peace.”

–Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember

And hopefully the boy will catch up on his sleep.

Probably not.

Have a good weekend!

*Fanny J. Crosby, “Close to Thee”, Methodist Hymnal

4 Comments

April 6, 2017

Balm in Gilead

by chuckofish

Today is the anniversary of the deaths of two country music greats: Tammy Wynette (1942-1998) and Merle Haggard (1937-2016). They died on the same day but 18 years apart. Weird.

Here they are singing “Today I Started Lovin’ You Again”–a classic song of regret and unrequited love written by Merle Haggard and Bonnie Owens in 1968.

In case you were wondering–(as I did)–“He Stopped Lovin’ Her Today,” which has been named in several surveys as the greatest country song of all time, was released twelve years after “Today I Started Lovin’ You Again.” So it was Merle who started that ball rolling.

And if you weren’t wondering, you can still toast them tonight.

In other news, I went to see the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church at Graham Chapel on the campus of my flyover university the other evening.

Michael Curry.jpg

He was introduced by our Provost (an Episcopalian!) and by our former senator/Episcopal priest who endowed the Center for Religion and Politics which sponsored the talk. Bishop Curry gave a rousing sermon (he was invited to speak on “Healing a House Divided”) and, through the old-timey and very effective method of repetition, had everyone in the packed chapel saying with him, If you cannot sing like angels, If you can’t preach like Paul, You can tell the love of Jesus, And say He died for all.

When he started singing at the end, everyone joined right in with him: There is a balm in Gilead, To make the wounded whole; There is a balm in Gilead, To heal the sin-sick soul.

…Not something I have ever experienced at this flyover university.

He made his point–that only through the love of JESUS will the divisiveness in this country be healed. Amen, brother. Maybe there is hope for the Episcopal Church.

6 Comments

April 5, 2017

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind”*

by chuckofish

Recently I was reading my Williams College alumni magazine and ran across an article about former President John Wesley Chandler who was head of the college when I attended.

Chandler is on the left

His standard CV includes the following facts: Chandler assumed the office of president on July 1, 1973, after serving as president of Hamilton College since 1968. He was born in Mars Hill, N.C. on Sept. 5,1923 and attended Wake Forest College, where he was a member of Phi Beta Kappa and received his B.A. in 1945. He received a B.D. from Duke University in 1952 and earned his Ph.D., also from Duke, in 1954. Sixteen colleges and universities, including Williams, have awarded him honorary doctorates.

However, as I read further, I found out that his CV leaves out a lot. It seems he wrote an autobiography last year–there was a link in the article and I followed it. The son of a tobacco farmer, Chandler grew up in rural North Carolina.

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Chandler (far right) with two of his brothers in 1931

When his father died during the Great Depression he was sent with two of his brothers to the Mills Home, a Baptist orphanage. From the age of 10 when he entered the orphanage in 1934, it was his home as well as his school until he graduated and went to college.

Life was disciplined at the Mills House, but “there was considerable intellectual stimulation…and an informed awareness of what was going on in the larger world. The institutional ethos was that of a school.” The children studied, worked, went to chapel, and played sports–the classic boarding school agenda. Indeed, President Sawyer, Chandler’s predecessor at Williams, remarked to him that “[Mills House] sounds like Deerfield”! Well, maybe that was a stretch, but he was well prepared for college when he graduated.

You can download the PDF (see above) and read all about Chandler’s life at the orphanage. It is a fascinating read. I find it all amazing and absurdly impressive. It is the kind of story you don’t hear much any more. Hard work. Faith. Perseverance.

It is also a good reminder not to assume about people. How often do we really have no idea about who a person really is and what he/she has gone through!

*Romans 12: 2

6 Comments

April 4, 2017

“Oh quickly disappearing photograph in my more slowly disappearing hand”*

by chuckofish

Today is the birthday of our pater, who would be 95. He died 25 years ago.

As I grow older, I realize that I take after him much more than I had previously thought. Although I was much (so much) closer to my mother, we were not as alike as my sister and she were. I was always the shy one, and my father was like that. Also, my mother was the really intelligent one of the pair. My father and I were/are just smart enough to impress some people.

My father was a historian who had his heroes, as do I. His tended to be military heroes, like Napoleon and MacArthur and Grant. It would be interesting now to talk to him about them. What was the appeal of Bonaparte? (He was a collector, among many things, of Napoleon memorabilia.)

I think my father would have really enjoyed the job that I have now, working at a big university in a small school where lots of interesting, intelligent people come every day to learn about interesting things without the pressure of grades or homework and the interference of parents and peers. It is the perfect place for people with minds like ours–curious about many things, but without the desire/drive to go too far. I finished my master’s thesis in great part to show him that I could (he didn’t finish his). I’m not sure if he noticed.

Well, self-knowledge is a good thing. It keeps you humble and it can keep you out of trouble.

When I toast ANCIII tonight–only once because he was, after all, a terrific alcoholic–I will also toast the wonderful Doris Day, who turned 95 yesterday. You go, girl!

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P.S. I Watched The Outsiders (1983) and the book is better. Big Surprise.

*”Portrait of My Father as a Young Man” by Rainer Maria Rilke

8 Comments

dual personalities

April 14, 2017

Make My Heart a House of Prayer*

by chuckofish

April 13, 2017

“And when the hour came”*

by chuckofish

April 12, 2017

This and that

by chuckofish

April 11, 2017

Stuff

by chuckofish

April 10, 2017

All glory, laud and honor To thee, Redeemer King

by chuckofish

April 8, 2017

Among chains and rope, lashed here all winter*

by chuckofish

April 7, 2017

Savior, let me walk with thee*

by chuckofish

April 6, 2017

Balm in Gilead

by chuckofish

April 5, 2017

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind”*

by chuckofish

April 4, 2017

“Oh quickly disappearing photograph in my more slowly disappearing hand”*

by chuckofish