Monday: on & on ad infinitum


If I have a favorite television program (I don't, I don't like any of them except when there's weather or other news that I need to know about), it's AFV, I guess it would be AFV, though I hate when it's offered as funny and people laugh when something happens that obviously hurt someone. For example, it's not the least bit funny when a guy gets bonked in the groin, and goes rolling on the ground, regarding that as funny is mean and stupid. But now and then I catch AFV with Linda, and enjoy the clips with animals and with children.

 

But no, oh, I take it back, there's a really good Saturday program about the Australian Zoo, I like that sometimes. Pretty much otherwise though, television, you can alphabet keep it.


For Christmas I got a coffee club gift, and it's huge fun. My coffee, I like it hot and black, and the coffee the coffee club has sent so far is perfect. Dark, clear, clean, crisp. Would not think of spoiling it with cream and sugar. The first bag they sent me, I thought, well, I like that one so much I'll go on line, find the coffee company, and order some: but, what the hey, it's over $16 a bag, so, maybe not. 


What am I doing this morning? As I write this I'm not sure whether we have our sometime Mondays 9:30 online Zoom staff meeting. At some point, maybe today, I'll go online and watch my homily from yesterday, it's a good way to spot annoying or distracting quirks and try to overcome them. A couple people said my microphone was not on when I thought it was on, so I'll check that. 


This is going nowhere. Doesn't usually, but it's what may happen when the fingers are set free to tippy-type while I think about other things. Like right now I'm still thinking about Charles Darwin. I started reading his "Origin of Species" and after a couple of pages skipped to chapter fourteen, his summary and conclusion, and just read that. It's free online, for anyone interested. A fascinating character, Darwin was not out to destroy religion, as charged by ignorant fools of my growing up years; he was a botanist, naturalist, zoologist, geologist who would really have enjoyed himself had he lived in this day and age, with all the scientific possibilities, advancements, equipment. But he made a splendid life as a scientist in his Time, and seems to have enjoyed his life thoroughly. 


I do ponder, though, Darwin's struggle with religion, his comments, observations, what he writes. His struggle with the simple issue of a divine being designing a creation in which a wasp stings and paralyzes a caterpillar, then plants its eggs so the wasp hatchlings feed on the living caterpillar. It's the same though, isn't it, as watching an osprey clutching a trout or mullet, carrying it to its nest, and the fish struggling as the bird tears bites from it and eats, or feeds its baby birds. Or an antelope bellowing in pain as a pride of hungry lions rip chunks from it. Or a human child dying with cancer. I mean, this is divine design or natural, evolution? 


It leads into the standard Question of theodicy: why an omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent, all loving, almighty, all powerful and merciful God allows suffering in the world. But, as sometimes offered here before, theodicy is no Question at all, and the answer is obvious and quite simple for anyone who'll face it: the theodicy question defines God wrong. The problem is not God, the problem is humans, the human definition, construct, and understanding of God as Who and What we consider ideal for meeting our needs and hopes and fears instead of inferring God from Who and What we experience and observe. My theology professor's question was "Who or What is God?" And the correct answer for his exam was "God is Whoever or Whatever led Israel out of Egypt. God is Whoever or Whatever Jesus called Father. God is Whoever or Whatever raised Jesus from the dead", and I added a few, including such as, "God is Whoever or Whatever said 'Let there be' and it was so". I'll admit, hearing and writing about God as "Whatever" was always startling.


For a deist, and based on acts of God told in our Bible stories, those answers still seem reasonable. But to define God as God is posited by the theodicy question is to define God as God does not present God's own self in Heilgeschichte, our holy stories. I mean, again and always, if you think the theodicy question correctly describes God, read the Book of Joshua, which presents God as known in God's will and direction of human acts; not God as the theodicy question defines God.


So, Charles Darwin, and a New Testament scholar I admire most, Bart Ehrman, leaving the Christian church that worships God as defined in the theodicy question. My theology professor again, Robert Jenson, who finished life in the Episcopal Church, I remember Jenson once saying to the class in half jest, the evidence is that God "either doesn't exist, or he hates us”. If the class is second or third year, they laugh; if the class is first semester first year they are stunned.


Generally, we are what we are born and raised to be. Not only human, a particular race or mix of races, male or female, a particular nationality, culture, straight or LGBTQAI+, some religion Jewish, Hindu (Darwin writes Hindoo), Muslim, Christian, None, &C; and maybe most of us stay as we began, unquestioning or questioning, easy or uneasy, lifelong in our born and raised mold.


Some of us don't, though. Some question and, finding answers or no answers, leave, bolt, become Other. Ehrman not only leaving theodicy, but leaving the Nicene Creed, which, as I like to remember, Schleiermacher also disputed as asserting theological beliefs clearly beyond human knowing. So, what's an answer? Citing his integrity with saying a creed he doesn't believe, Ehrman acknowledges himself as an Agnostic; Darwin also, Agnostic. Stephen Hawking an Atheist. What about me? As I answered on my General Ordination Exam forty years ago, my Faith is not settled, but still developing; restless, evolving. Through that evolution "I have decided to follow Jesus" as the Episcopalian I was born and bred, second half of life as an Episcopal priest, though not necessarily quietly obedient or respectfully submissive to authority.


Neither parental authority my growing up years, nor institutional authority my Navy and Church years. For heroes, one has been Winston Churchill, now largely discredited by the politically correct movement who hate his adventures in Africa but were not alive to watch him save Europe. Another is Steve Jobs, a line from his commencement address: "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition." 


I'm happy with my life, now far more so than the second twenty years of it, when I was subject to authority and under orders. I try to do my own thinking and I try to make my own decisions. Institutional doctrine, dogma, regulations, rules and rubrics are challenges for me, and though I try to avoid seeming rebellious, unkind or nasty, I'm not willing or content to just "let it be, leave it lie" just because determined, powerful, superstitious, self-certain flat-earthers set it up and sent it on to me this way and "it's the way we've always done it". I'm greatly enjoying these years of religious contemplation, especially including the sharing that our adult Sunday school class does enable, even if the pulpit does not entirely enable such freedom. 


I try to call stupid when I see it, especially religious stupid. For example, a report came back to me about a priest who, hearing someone remark at a funeral, "he's in a better place," responded that he was not in a better place, that he was in purgatory atoning for and being cleansed of his sins. I'm glad my church does not hold to such arrogant authoritative absurdity as manipulating afterlife. Religion that bullyingly offers cruelty, certainty and authority when people need lovingkindness should disappear from the face of the Earth. As it is, we Episcopalians have enough to argue about and take issue with, but one of our Articles of Religion makes plain our view on this topic: 


XXII. Of Purgatory.


The Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory, Pardons, Worshipping and Adoration, as well of Images as of Relics, and also Invocation of Saints, is a fond thing, vainly invented, and grounded upon no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God.


So to ramble on, I'm thinking about books and art and food. A recent email from a dairy association in Wisconsin told me that my once all-time favorite cheese is back in production: Liederkranz. When I so loved it, it was a Borden product, now offered through Chalet Cheese Co-op. I've place an order, hoping it will be same old same old. 


What with the covid pandemic? Books, I have an Xmas gift novel waiting. Films, "Don't Look Up" has been recommended, but it's pay, rent or buy, not currently included free on Amazon Prime Video, so I'll see. I've watched most of the German WW2 films I've been able to find, and some Russian and other Eastern European. Some American films, that I've mentioned here on the blog. And many Poirot programs, all good. 


Music, I like some old music, and some not so old including country and western music that I loved earlier in life until I realized it was keeping me sad and moping all the Time, so I quit, because I'm a happy person, not sad. But unlike many folks, I dislike music playing in the background while I'm working or studying or trying to think; to me it's distracting and annoying. For my own reasons, I love some country and western music and pop from the 1960s, 1970s into the early 1980s even though I no longer bother with it. Generally cannot stand "not hardly none" of the music that was popular among the younger generation when my first two children were impressionable and listening, during their teens, because it just sounds like noise to me; but fine with music I overheard during Tassy's growing up years half a generation later. Bon Jovi &c. Beside hillbilly music, I grew up on classical and church music, and our era of praise songs during our charismatic renewal during the 1980s, I loved a lot of it. But cannot stand the rubbish I hear from other churches classified as "praise songs" that, turning their backs on The Broadman Hymnal and Charles Wesley, have neither discernible melody nor sensible lyrics.


Cars? Nobody wants to read about my preferences in automobiles, of which in my eighty-six years I've owned some seventy cars including a few pickup trucks. What do I like? I want a brand new 1947 DeSoto club coupe,





that's all, and I want the Time to be 1947 again to drive it in. World War 2 is over, and there are a few motor courts where I can stop overnight on my way north, I'm going to drive it to Newport, Rhode Island to eat lobsters and clams. I'll be late, don't wait up.


Oh, art. Lately I've come across a couple of pieces that I really like. "The Potato Eaters" by Vincent Van Gogh, I really like that one, and have published it here before. The artist's treatment and capture of the darkness is magnificent. 




Even more so with the darkness, the other one I came across Saturday while looking for a suitable picture to cap my Sunday homily that I preached and posted online yesterday. Remarkable for it's darkness, it was Rembrandt's 1658 painting "Philemon and Baucis" and I had it on there for awhile until finding one that was better suited. Not losing it, though, it's at the top of this morning's blogpost.


Every generation has its Time in the window of the Present or on its stage, but never pausing, the sun never stands still, constantly moving on. There's a psalm I like:


Psalm 90    Domino, refugium

LORD, thou hast been our refuge, *
    from one generation to another.
Before the mountains were brought forth,
or ever the earth and the world were made, *
    thou art God from everlasting, and the world without end.
Thou turnest man to destruction; * again thou sayest, Come again, ye children of men.
For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, * and as a watch in the night.
As soon as thou scatterest them they are even as a sleep, * and fade away suddenly like the grass.
In the morning it is green, and groweth up; * but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered.
For we consume away in thy displeasure, * and are afraid at thy wrathful indignation.
Thou hast set our misdeeds before thee, * and our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.

For when thou are angry all our days are gone; * we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told.

The days of our age are threescore years and ten; and though men be so strong that thy come to fourscore years, * yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow, so soon passeth it away, and we are gone.
So teach us to number our days, * that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.


Well, I enjoy a couple of psalms about Time and Eternity, here's another one:


Psalm 139    Domine, probasti

O LORD, thou hast searched me out, and known me. * Thou knowest my down-sitting and mine up-rising; thou understandest my thoughts long before.
Thou art about my path, and about my bed, * and art acquainted with all my ways.
For lo, there is not a word in my tongue, * but thou, O LORD, knowest it altogether.

Thou hast beset me behind and before, * and laid thine hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me; * I cannot attain unto it.
Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit? * or whither shall I go then from thy presence?
If I climb up into heaven, thou art there; * if I go down to hell, thou art there also.
If I take the wings of the morning, * and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there also shall thy hand lead me,  and thy right hand shall hold me.
If I say, Peradventure the darkness shall cover me, * then shall my night be turned to day.
Yea, the darkness is no darkness with thee,
but the night is as clear as day; * the darkness and light to thee are both alike.



And a verse from yesterday's Bible readings that has always bothered the hell out of me for all sorts of reasons (let the reader understand):


Jeremiah 1:4-10

The word of the LORD came to me saying,
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”



Is this true only for Jeremiah, or for all the unborn, and even for those who have not as yet been conceived, all existing eternally in the knowledge and love of God? It's a major thought for folks on the pro-life side of Roe v Wade.


+++++++++


Why do I blog this nonsense? For one thing, as an ongoing observation of my sensibilities. For another, ... NOYB.


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