Monday, 30 October 2017

Historian's Irony

Cardinal Newman said, ‘To be deep in history is to cease to be Protestant.’ That might be the case for systematic Protestantism along the lines of the Reformation, with a strict observance of the solas. It applies less obviously to a Protestantism that understands itself as a form of developing Christian faith that happens not to include a strong allegiance to the bishop of Rome.

Diarmaid MacCulloch is deep in history, and he has ceased to be anything in particular. Nonetheless he looks with understanding and sympathy on the spiritual and religious quests that have occurred in history and will no doubt continue to occur.

I am rereading MacCulloch’s book Reformation: Europe’s House Divided (1490-1700), which I first read 10 years ago while I was in the process of becoming Catholic, and which I am now reading in preparation for a historical trip to Germany in the footsteps of Martin Luther.

It is striking how religion and politics interplay, how allegiances and rivalries help to build consensus, and how people navigate a world with the consciousness of a last judgment, with a network of relations that has shifting perspectives on the wheat and the tares, and with the human needs that are basic to us all.

When King Henri IV of France (formerly King of Navarre) ultimately decided to convert to the Catholic Church, allegedly on the grounds that ‘Paris was worth a Mass’, this was the reaction of a prominent Reformer:

Theodore Beza, who all through his long years in Geneva had corresponded with Navarre, regularly received cash from him and was devoted to him as a new King David in Israel, was devastated at Henri’s betrayal of the godly cause. Beza nevertheless remained loyal, and sadly consoled himself with a different Old Testament image: God’s champion in Israel, Samson, sacrificed his life to slay his enemies, and now perhaps King Henri was making an even greater sacrifice of his soul in God’s cause. He also continued to regard himself as on King Henri’s payroll.

Monday, 9 October 2017

The Vineyard Song Remastered

Sometimes writing a homily is difficult. But at rare moments, hints are thrown at you from all sorts of different places and the homily basically writes itself.

This time it was the song of the vineyard in Isaiah 5, and the Gospel passage associated with it, of the wicked tenants who kill the vineyard owner’s son (Matthew 21). I thought to myself, didn’t Pope Benedict write something about this? He’s usually pretty good at contextualizing the parables and explaining how Jesus is inviting the Pharisees to let down their guard and join Him in his new creation.

Indeed the Pope wrote about this Gospel, and the Isaiah passage and even Psalm 80 in connection with it. Surprisingly, it can be found in the chapter on the principal images of the Gospel of John (Jesus of Nazareth I, ch. 8), under the heading ‘Vine and Wine’. Pope Benedict considers the Isaiah passage foundational for the vine motif, and writes:

The Prophet probably sang it in the context of the Feast of Tabernacles, in the context of the cheerful atmosphere characteristic of this eight-day feast (cf. Deut 16:14). […]
Everyone knew that “vineyard” was an image for a bride (cf. Song 2:15, 7:12f.), so they were expecting some entertainment suited to the festive atmosphere.

Many more interesting and edifying things were said about the passage, but this information made me see the whole passage in a different light. If it was a love song, then the translation on the USCCB website ‘Let me now sing of my friend, my friend’s song concerning his vineyard’ was misleading. So I decided to take out a Hebrew-English Old Testament and see if I could make some sense of it, despite the fact that my Hebrew knowledge is sorely limited.

The first thing that stood out was that the song starts out very sing-song-y, which is recognizable as soon as you can read the Hebrew alphabet:
’āshīrāh nā līdīdī
shīrat dōdī l’kharmō

Li-di-di, it is as airy and light-hearted as fa-la-la. It means ‘for my beloved’ and is related to dōdī (translated as ‘of my lover’).

The word is used twice, for the text continues:
kerem hāyāh līdīdī
b’qeren ben-shāmen
(‘My beloved had a vineyard’, or more literally ‘A vineyard was there for my beloved’: a possessive dative. And then, ‘On a very fertile hill’. ‘Vineyard’ and ‘hill’ are very similar words: kerem and qeren.)

Next I wanted to know if there was a similar play in the lines ‘He hoped it would yield grapes. Instead, it yielded wild grapes.’ In this I was disappointed:
wayqaw la‘asōt ‘anāvīm
wayya‘as b’ushīm
Yes, it rhymes, but that is only because -īm is the regular masculine plural ending. Nothing surprising there.
But wait…what was it that the man of the winepress was looking for? Grapes? Then why did it sound like something else? The word ‘anāvīm looked strangely familiar, and would look familiar to any amateur theologian worth three miserable grains of salt. There are some words that are known even to your average American Catholic blogger (no offense), and one of them is anawim, the ‘poor’ for whom poverty is a spiritual attitude. ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit’, the anawim. And indeed the word is almost identical in spelling to ‘anāvīm: ענבים and ענוים.
The almost-double meaning of ‘grapes’ is the first hint of the revelation in verse 7: ‘The vineyard of the LORD of Hosts is the House of Israel’.

Now I wanted to know if something similar applied to b’ushīm, the ‘wild grapes’. And while I could not find a similar word, I chanced upon the commentary in E.W. Bullinger’s Companion Bible, which told me two things:
(1) The word b’ushīm was derived from bashash [Strong suggests it’s actually ba’ash], meaning ‘to stink’ – which can easily shade into an aesthetic, ritual, or ethical judgment (in any language).
(2) Isaiah 5 is the only place in the Old Testament where qeren is translated ‘hillside’; all the other seventy-five times it means ‘horn’.

Wait, what? What did the text say again?

kerem hāyāh līdīdī
b’qeren ben-shāmen
‘My best friend had a “vineyard”
On a really fertile “horn” ’

They were expecting some entertainment suited to the festive atmosphere.

For more random wordplay, go and watch this clip.

Tuesday, 12 September 2017

Gas Stations

Since purchasing a car some three years ago, my life has been characterized by increasing mobility. My being on the road has led to a deeper appreciation of an ubiquitous feature of roads: gas stations.

They are much more than places to refuel your car. They are small dots on the map of hospitality and friendly interaction with passing strangers – who for a change do not pass at 100 or 130 km/h. They are cafés where you can get coffee and restaurants where you can purchase lunch, cold or hot. They are places of sanitary relief, of fresh air and stretched legs.

You can count on them being there, and on them being there for you even if you have never visited them before.

Even the layout has a comfortable familiarity everywhere. There is a place where you can get fuel, with lots of space around it to park your car for quick purchases. And there is also a parking space that can be used for a real driving break.

They can even function as inns, these gas stations. Last night before 11pm, when driving from Roelofarendsveen to Ridderkerk, I felt myself getting tired and stopped at a gas station between Delft and Rotterdam for a ten-minute nap. But when I opened my eyes again, it was after 1am.

Although I am very happy with my new home, now almost finished, I think I could get used to living in my car, as long as there would be gas stations along the road.

Saturday, 29 July 2017

Schroom

It’s been a while, I know. Lent, Easter, and the Ordination all conspired to keep me from posting; or perhaps it is my fault. In any case I was very glad to see how many people sacrificed time to come to the Ordination. I was particularly touched by the presence of some American friends; Youth Choir Faith, which sang a few hymns at the Mass; and one or two special friends.

Since then I have been on holiday, another mountain-hiking holiday in Austria. We stayed for two nights at a convent of the Canons Regular of the Holy Cross (O.R.C.) and then continued to a small hotel, more of a guesthouse really, between Ochsengarten and Kühtai. The guesthouse had its own chapel. It was beautiful.

Last night I was procrastinating. (Are there job offers for procrastination? If it were my job I would probably delay procrastinating until the last possible moment, and before that moment I would get so much useful things done!) I opened a magazine that was lying on the table and found an article by Kees Waaijman, a well-known Dutch Scripture scholar of the Carmelite order, about schroom – a typically Dutch word connoting a kind of fear that is more like a reverent hesitation.

The article contained the following quotation from John Cassian (my translation):

Schroom is filled with attentive affection, not afraid of blows nor of reproaches, but only of the slightest injury to love, and it is haunted by a passionate tenderness that saturates all its acting and speaking, out of concern that the other’s burning love towards it might cool, however little.

It reminded me of a favourite phrase of Pope Francis, la rivoluzione della tenerezza, the ‘revolution of tenderness’. Tenderness is a word that occurs multiple times in his inaugural homily; there it is associated with the attitude of St. Joseph. I sensed the revolution in this quote by the desert father.

I also sensed it in Austria – and here I was reminded of a quote from Charles Williams, somewhere in his mysterious Arthuriad cycle: a description of an island never set foot on, the land of the Trinity: ‘each in turn the Holder and the Held’.

This I remembered, and after a while it continues:

…in the land of the Trinity, the land of the perichoresis,
of separateness without separation, reality without rift,
where the Basis is in the Image, and the Image in the Gift…

I had to look for it, and lo and behold, it was from The Founding of the Company. On rereading I found that this poem is also the one that contains the exchange between the poet Taliessin and the court fool Dinadan. Dinadan calls Taliessin ‘lieutenant of God’s new grace’. Taliessin refuses a title that would make him master over others, but Dinadan lectures him:

                                          …any buyer of souls
is bought himself by his purchase; take the lieutenancy
for the sake of the shyness the excellent absurdity holds.

Shyness is perhaps not the worst translation of schroom.

The poem ends as follows:

The Company throve by love, by increase of peace,
by the shyness of saving and being saved in others –
the Christ-taunting and Christ-planting maxim
which throughout Logres the excellent absurdity held.

Monday, 23 January 2017

The Inauguration

I am happy to have lived in America. I am even happy that, so far, Chicago is the biggest American city I have visited, and the rest of my adventure was spent with good country people. Conservative, and with hearts of gold.

President Trump is confusing. Around him, the simplest facts get turned into bitter debates on social media – for instance, whether or not there were sizable empty spaces at his inauguration. Those who speak up in the President’s favour often come across as triumphalistic and shallow. But I also feel a twinge of unease at the bitterness of his American opponents, or the smugness of their European cousins. I have no understanding of the actual political issues, but I can observe how people react to the image of Trump.

Anyhow, I read his inauguration speech, and thought it was not too bad, as a speech. There were a few moments, however, when I raised my eyebrows (I don’t have sufficient muscular control for the lone-eyebrow raise) (and I’m not counting the time when he mentioned Nebraska, which was sweet of him):

You came by the tens of millions to become part of a historic movement the likes of which the world has never seen before. At the center of this movement is a crucial conviction: that a nation exists to serve its citizens.

Too bad the world has never seen the likes of this movement before. Jerobeam, Socrates, Louis IX, and Lincoln missed out on quite something! Then again, perhaps Trump was thinking of a more recent President who unsavourily declared, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.’ (Communism!)

We must protect our borders from the ravages of other countries making our products, stealing our companies, and destroying our jobs.

Making is ravaging! Products are plunder! Creation is destruction!

When you open your heart to patriotism, there is no room for prejudice.

…if there had been somebody there to shoot you every minute of your life.

We stand at the birth of a new millennium…

How long does a millennium take to be born? We’ve been living in it for over sixteen years!

Other than that, of course, I attempt to stand ready for the final Trump and the dawn of the Age of Aquarius.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.