dual personalities

Tag: spirituality

May 2, 2012

Happy 401st birthday

by chuckofish

…to the King James Version of the Bible. Time flies, doesn’t it? In 1611 the King James Bible was published for the first time in London, England, by printer Robert Barker. It molded the English language, “buttressed by ‘the powers that be’–one of its famous phrases–and yet enshrined a gospel of individual freedom. No other book has given more to the English-speaking world.”

Phrases that originated in the KJV:

From time to time
The root of the matter
As a lamb to the slaughter
Stand in awe
Turned the world upside down
To every thing there is a season
Unto the pure all things are pure
A thorn in the flesh
A still small voice
Suffer the little children
Pour out your heart
No small stir
Know for a certainty
The skin of my teeth
Fell flat on his face
Set thine house in order

(Thank you to the National Geographic, December 2011, for this information)

Let’s all take a break today and read a chapter from the KJV. Here’s one to start with (I Corinthians 13):

1Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

2And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

3And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

4Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

5Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

8Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

9For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

10But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

11When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

12For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

13And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

And while we’re at it, Happy birthday, David Beckham!

David Robert Joseph Beckham, OBE (born 2 May 1975) is an English association footballer who plays for the Los Angeles Galaxy. He has played for Manchester United, Preston North End, Real Madrid, Milan, and the England national team for which he holds the appearance record for an outfield player. And, for the record, he is perfect.

3 Comments
April 27, 2012

The simple things

by chuckofish

I am a morning person. My favorite time of day is early in the morning, after I have done my NordicTrack time and my husband has left for work. I have the house to myself to putter to my hearts content before (and while) I get ready to return to the salt mines.

I clean up the kitchen. I water my plants. I stack the magazines.

Today I swiffered the ceiling fan blades in my bedroom (and, boy, did they need it!).

I looked at my birthday cards from last week.

I went outside and cut some flowers.

There are buds on the peonies (and ants).

There is coffee.

“I like the silent church before the service begins, better than any preaching.”
–Ralph Waldo Emerson (Self-Reliance)

5 Comments
April 17, 2012

The slob is loved

by chuckofish

The Gospel is bad news before it is good news. It is the news that man is a sinner, to use the old word, that he is evil in the imagination of his heart, that when he looks in the mirror all in a lather what he sees is at least eight parts chicken, phony, slob. That is the tragedy. But it is also the news that he is loved anyway, cherished, forgiven, bleeding to be sure, but also bled for. That is the comedy. And yet, so what? So what if even in his sin the slob is loved and forgiven when the very mark and substance of his sin and of his slobbery is that he keeps turning down the love and forgiveness because he either doesn’t believe them or doesn’t want them or just doesn’t give a damn? In answer, the news of the Gospel is that extraordinary things happen to him just as in fairy tales extraordinary things happen. Henry Ward Beecher cheats on his wife, his God, himself, but manages to keep on bringing the Gospel to life for people anyway, maybe even for himself. Lear goes beserk on a heath but comes out of it for a few brief hours every inch a king. Zaccheus climbs up a sycamore tree a crook and climbs down a saint. Paul sets out a hatchet man for the Pharisees and comes back a fool for Christ. It is impossible for anybody to leave behind the darkness of the world he carries on his back like a snail, but for God all things are possible. That is the fairy tale. All together they are the truth.

Frederick Buechner, “Telling the Truth”

2 Comments
April 6, 2012

It ain’t no easy thing

by chuckofish

“Ever’one here think it easy for me. I be this good little church boy from Mississippi with my good little church-goin’ Mammy, and since I be this stupid country n**ger with the big faith, I don’t have no troubles. Well, it just don’t work that way. He paused. Jermain said nothing. “I see my friend Williams get ate by a tiger,” Cortell continued. “I see my friend Broyer get his face ripped off by a mine. What you think I do all night, sit around thankin’ Sweet Jesus? Raise my palms to sweet heaven and cry hallelujah? You know what I do? You know what I do? I lose my heart.” Cortell’s throat suddenly tightened, strangling his words. “I lose my heart.” He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He exhaled and went on quietly, back in control. “I sit there and I don’t see any hope. Hope gone.” Cortell was seeing his dead friends. “Then, the sky turn gray again in the east, and you know what I do? I choose all over to keep believen’. All along I know Jesus could maybe be just some fairy tale, and I could be just this one big fool. I choose anyway.” He turned away from his inward images and returned to the blackness of the world around him. “It ain’t no easy thing.”

Karl Marlantes, Matterhorn

A blessed Good Friday to all who “choose anyway”.

5 Comments
March 26, 2012

Postcards from abroad

by chuckofish

The Cathedral Church of St. George in Jerusalem

A dear friend of mine recently returned from a trip to the Holy Land where she visited the (Episcopal) Cathedral Church of St. George in Jerusalem. According to their website, the Cathedral is home today to two congregations: the indigenous Palestinian Anglicans, often called the ‘Living Stones,’ and a community of expatriate English-speaking members. The local Arabic-speaking Anglicans are part of the historic Christian presence here since the time of the first Pentecost:

‘Cretans and Arabs – in our own language we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power’ (Acts 2:11)

The Cathedral remains a focal point for the Province of Jerusalem and the Middle East and the Worldwide Anglican Communion.

My friend took a picture of this for me:

How perfect is that? A needlepoint chair pad with the family cognomen! I was very touched. It is indeed a small world, especially in the Anglican Communion. And here’s a Monday morning shout-out to those distant relatives at St. George’s!

4 Comments
March 23, 2012

Praise for the morning

by chuckofish

“Morning Has Broken” is a popular Christian hymn first published in 1931. It was not written by Cat Stevens, although it is frequently attributed to him.  He should be given credit for introducing it to a wider audience.  However, English author Eleanor Farjeon wrote the words and it is set to a traditional Scottish tune known as “Bunessan”. According to Wikipedia, the hymn originally appeared in the second edition of “Songs of Praise” (published in 1931). In Songs of Praise Discussed, the editor, Percy Dearmer, explains that as there was need for a hymn to give thanks for each day, English poet and children’s author Eleanor Farjeon had been “asked to make a poem to fit the lovely Scottish tune”. A slight variation on the original hymn, also written by Eleanor Farjeon, can be found in the form of a poem contributed to the anthology Children’s Bells, under Farjeon’s new title, “A Morning Song (For the First Day of Spring)”, published by Oxford University Press in 1957.

Eleanor Farjeon (13 February 1881 – 5 June 1965) was an author of children’s stories and plays, poetry, biography, history and satire. She was the granddaughter of the American actor Joseph Jefferson and counted among her friends D. H. Lawrence, Walter de la Mare and Robert Frost. We thank her for writing this wonderful reminder to appreciate the small things (which are really the big things) in our lives and to thank our creator. After all, “this is the day the Lord has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

Morning Has Broken
lyrics by Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken,
like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken,
like the first bird
Praise for the singing,
praise for the morning
Praise for the springing
fresh from the word

Sweet the rain’s new fall,
sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall,
on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness
of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness
where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight,
mine is the morning
Born of the one light,
Eden saw play
Praise with elation,
praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day

3 Comments
March 15, 2012

God be in my head

by chuckofish

"Old Sarum" by John Constable

God Be in My Head
Anonymous
(from a 1506 Sarum Book of Hours)

God be in mihede And in min vnder ston dyng
God be in myn hyyesse And in min lokeyng
God be in mi movthe And in myspekeyng
God be in my hart And in my thovgvt
God be at myneyende And ad myde partying

God be in my head
And in my understanding;
God be in mine eyes
And in my looking;
God be in my mouth
And in my speaking;
God be in my heart
And in my thinking;
God be at mine end,
And at my departing.

Old Sarum as it looks today.

And here’s a picture of the “New Sarum” also by John Constable.

2 Comments
March 8, 2012

Back to Buechner

by chuckofish

“What’s prayer? It’s shooting shafts into the dark. What mark they strike, if any, who’s to say? It’s reaching for a hand you cannot touch. The silence is so fathomless that prayers like plummets vanish into the sea. You beg. You whimper. You load God down with empty praise. You tell him sins that he already knows full well. You seek to change his changeless will. Yet Godric prays the way he breathes, for else his heart would wither in his breast. Prayer is the wind that fills his sail. Else drift with witless tides. And sometimes, by God’s grace, a prayer is heard.”
― Frederick Buechner, Godric

3 Comments
March 1, 2012

Taking the shortcut

by chuckofish

“Or you can take the shortcut and paddle to one of the passages in the Huron River, which reflects this world so clearly you can see into the next one. When wild flags blossom along the river’s edge in this world, snow whitens the banks in that one. And when trout and sunfish sleep under a skin of ice here, swamps there hum with bees and cicadas, kingbirds and vireos and warblers. Walk against the current. Follow one of the streams that spill into the river till you find the spring at the bottom. You have found a doorway into the spirit world. Be careful. It is not safe to pass through that doorway without a guide.

“But maybe you don’t travel that far. You say, Ann Arbor is far enough. Stand still in the stream. Listen. Thomas Bearheart’s cousin picks up her hammer. Can you hear it ringing as she forges copper fishhooks in Drowning Bear, Wisconsin? Put your ear to the water as if it were a train track and listen for travelers rushing toward you, invisible as the dead and noisy as a pack of dogs.”

Nancy Willard, Sister Water

2 Comments
February 29, 2012

Dying of thirst

by chuckofish

“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.
“I’m dying of thirst,” said Jill.
“Then drink,” said the Lion.
“May I–could I–would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl…
“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.
“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”
“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.

–C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

3 Comments