Grace With Taste

A hole.

This series of essays owes its genesis to an excellent article written by Andrew Ford. In many ways, these posts could be considered the 'long-awaited' second post on my thoughts on the Anglicanism as a whole.


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First off, it should be clarified that in the current state of affairs Rome is not acting the part of an opportunist. It is not a PR move to extend a hand to traditional Anglicans in this time of their crisis. The declaration from Rome is made in response to certain Bishops in England, particularly Bishop Burnham, requesting "magnanimous gestures" for those of the Anglican Church considering 'crossing the Tiber'. The Bishop of Rome is only acquiescing to the request of his episcopal, if not denominational, counterparts.

Mr. Ford has hit it on the nose when he states that it isn't a matter of practice that makes one a Roman or not, but rather it is the ethos of the individual. I couldn't agree more. Orthopraxy does not equal orthodoxy. Just because a man practices definite religious traditions doesn't necessarily connect him to a certain school of thought. This is in no way an accusation of hypocrisy - merely an admission that certain actions being the same do not necessarily proceed from the same source. All beauty queens walk with pose and maintain an attractive appearance, but not every one would believe in rubbing vaseline on their teeth or would say that Proposition 8 is a good thing. 

However, even if orthopraxy is not the direct equivalent of orthodoxy, I do believe that the former is simply an organic outgrowth of the latter. T.S. Eliot, a very clever man and an Anglo-Catholic (as well as a personal hero of mine) stated that the clarity of one's religious practices attested to the clarity of their beliefs. If you were somehow able to take a picture of the religious life of a particular church at a particular moment in time, you would have a good idea of what is was the parishioners believed. You can be pretty sure that a church which recited the Westminister Shorter Catechism would be disposed towards the concept of Total Depravity, or that a church which celebrated Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament wasn't just doing it because they had a hankering for Wheat Thins. I'm not saying that all of the congregation would believe all of the church's doctrine all of the time. We are talking in terms of Original Sin, after all. But more on this later.

The Anglican Church is an anomaly in that it is the only church which doesn't fit this pattern. Its religious practices rarely fully reflect its religious leanings, and frustratingly so. As much as sociologists and reporters of the religious press may try, there is no simple way to associate along High Church and Low Church lines when it comes to the matter of social or theological beliefs. If anything, the Lower Church Camp has a more distinct, or shall we say definite brand of theology that its High Church brethren. High Church theology and policy, however, is a great deal more nuanced on pertinent issues than the Low Church because it understands that not every situation admits the same amount of complexity. There is much to be said for both sides in this argument, and the genius of the Church of England is that it admits to the veracity of both.

Or so it was thought until recently. Now the Church finds itself imbroiled in what might be described as the Great Divorce. The more Conservative branch of the church has decided to distance itself from its more progressive fellows - officially and obstentively because of issues of biblical criticism, but there is the unspoken accusation of the ordination of non-celibate gay clergy (as well as lingering antipathy towards the ordination of women).  

Now we might ask ourselves where these different parties belong on the theo-liturgical map of Anglicanism. Where do political labels such as Conservative or Liberal generally lie in this map? Again, a precise outline is well nigh impossible, but admitting a fair degree of generalization, it is fair enough to say that the spectrum of Anglicanism forms a bell curve, with the Conservatives occupying the opposite ends of the pole and the body of Liberalism lying largely in the center or apex of the curve. Thus we have the distinctly Anglican body known as Broad Church Anglicanism.* Broad Church, being the largest mass of Western Anglicans, has decided to stay on. The Third-World Anglicans, those whom we can term the Traditionalists (whether they strive to maintain the so-called traditions of Hooker or Calvin), have decided to split off.

As we can see, the split from the body of Anglicanism isn't specifically from one group of either Anglo-Catholic or Evangelical. Reparations are being asked from the Kendell Harmons as well as the J.I. Packers. When this comes to matters of church property and jurisdiction, the stakes become infinitely more messy. So in many ways it is only sensible that certain groups outside the Church of England might look to provide a 'safe haven' for these breakaways, and some more than others. I have commented in an earlier post about Rick Warren's offer of his church facilities to breakaway Anglicans. And now, of course, this. Pope Benedict XVI offers breakaway Anglicans the right to convert to Rome and maintain their beliefs on ordination and scripture as well as certain practices. What the latter stipulation will fully amount to remains to be seen.   

Mr. Ford offers the classic suggestion of the majority of Anglicans - work it out. Pray, feed the hungry, clothe the poor, engage in social justice, and so on. The attitude is very commendable; in fact, the inertia of this proposition arguably could be what has sustained the Church of England for almost five hundred years. Following Matthew Arnold's classification, It is the Judaic school (active, or 'doing'), as opposed to the Hellenic School (contemplative, or 'being'). Now, however, that the English Church is unsure about so many issues, it finds itself faced with the question all 'doers' must address: why are we doing this? Essentially, the Judaic school sooner or later must acknowledge the Hellenic, if it is to keep clear focus on its teleological purpose.

*Historically, there is also the option of Central Churchmanship, which could be considered the conservative equivalent of Broad Churchmanship, but at the present time the influence of the latter has increased greatly at the expense of the Central position.

NEXT TIME: WHAT IS TELEOLOGY TO THE ANGLICAN POSITION?

I no longer have to depend on my Uncle Drosselmayer for protection against rodent infection. I use Contrac Bait Pellets!

Just to show I'm not completely a humbug when it comes to Hallowe'en . . .

"O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine . . ."
-- William H. How

I'd like to elaborate on some passing remarks I made yesterday.* If you remember, I was discussing how various traditions around this time of year impact our understanding of All Saints, and by extension, the eve of All Saints popularly known as Hallowe'en. I'd like to go a little further than yesterday's sentenious and somewhat bitter remarks, and talk about how this relates to the concept of parody.

What do I mean by parody? When we think of parody, it brings to mind comedians like Robin Williams or Frank Caliendo. We enjoy these comedians for their impersonations of various celebrities and public figures (and in some cases, of each other.) What makes for a good parody or a bad one? A good parody is that which is close enough to the true essence of the figure being imitated, but with some prominent attribute overexaggerated, e.g. Schwarzenegger's thick accent, De Niro's mugging, Dolly Parton's um - you know. In some instances, the attribute emphasized is already so prominent as to require little, if any, enhancement, such as Kanye West's gross stupidity.  But in all seriousness, the profoundly peculiar qualities of persons, place, or things, are most open to parody. And when one element is overemphasized, the parody tends to compensate by underemphasizing other aspects, often to the point of neglect. Parodies, therefore, have their virtues as well as their vices. If done properly, parody can be like a microscope, bringing into focus aspects which before might have escaped us. Good parodies are those that make us think, "It's funny because it's true." The humor of the parody does not follow the definition of Bergson by recognizing a congruity within nature, but by revealing a hitherto unseen congruity. Parody can falter, however, in the second aspect by denigrating other parts which may be key factors to the understanding of the whole. They tend, unfortunately, towards monomania, and all too often it is the problem that a parody can be accepted for a truth when it is only part of the truth. It is accepted, as part, for the whole.

In this respect, heresy could be considered as a form of parody. Each heresy has a certain grain of truth to it, but in conjunction with some other element not nearly as truthful. Consider Marcionism. Marcionite realized the truth that the God of the Old Testament acted quite differently from the God depicted in the New Testament. That Jehovah which led the Israelites to conquer their enemies and demanded "an eye for an eye" is very different from the Father Who sent down His only-begotten Son to die for us. The premises here are true. But Marcion's conclusion - that the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament are two different entities - is false, and logic tells us that a proof with true premises and a false conclusion is invalid. What Marcion fails to incorporate into his logic are the complexities of the both Testaments - signs of the benevolent paternity of Jehovah in the Old Testament (Hosea 11) or the strictness and militancy of Jesus (Matthew 10:34) - as well as realizing that the Hammurabic nature of "an eye for an eye" was a progressive step from the savageness of many tribes of the time, leading to Christ's command to give our cloaks as well as our coat. Heresy, then, is religious parody of the worst kind, in that it overemphasizes and devaluates at the same time.  

But how does the idea of parody relate to the season of All Saints? To answer this question, let us look at two of the reactions which have come about from this day. First, there is the assertion that All Saints was originally a pagan holiday stolen by the Christians in an effort to gain converts. Retroactively, many Christians are mortified to think that they've been celebrating an "anti-Christian" holiday and shun the name in exchange for a more ecclesiastically appropriate one, such as the charming idea of "Reformation Day". **

Reformation Day is perhaps the easiest to address first. Side-stepping the issue as to whether or not it is a parody to make the part of Christian life that is the Bible the whole, let us ask why Luther chose November 1st, of all days, to post his 95 theses on the door of the church at Wittenburg? Why not July 6th, for the death of John Hus? Or December 31st, for the death of Wycliffe? Could it be because this eminent genius knew of the relevancy of the day in theology, and that by doing so he was addressing all the Saints of the Church concerning his issues? For those who must imagine Luther as the uber-Protestant iconoclast, it must remain perplexing that he chose to acknowledge the legitimacy of the Church in her seasonal observations and feast days.***

Reformation Day is, in many respects, a parody of a parody. General experience tells us that a parody of a parody is rarely funny. But which is it parodying - All Saints, or the supposed more ancient celebration of Samhain? As to what actually happened at these early pagan festivals will probably never be fully known. A lot of sociological speculation has been made, not all of it prudent or enlightening. This is not to discourage such investigation, any more than it is to proceed in the reconstruction of ancient languages such as Etruscan. But these must always be done with a degree of agnosticism. We are aware of quite a few of the basics, though - Samhain was a celebration of dead spirits being made manifest on the earth, in the sense that they are somehow alive.

I do not wish to delve into calendar-hopping here. There are more learned discussions about the church's chronological reforms of the Feast of All Saints. Trying to discover the reasons behind the choice of this particular date is about as fruitless as the investigations into druid custom. Both are too shrouded in the mists of antiquity to give us any concrete facts. But go ahead and assume that the modern day pagans are right - that the Church eventually settled on the first day of November because it coincided with the celebration of Scorpio at its fifteenth degree in the sky. Is not, then, the Feast of All Saints a parody? How can a parody anticipate the parodied? 

Quite simply, actually, if we are to look to the philosophy of many of the early Church Fathers. Many of these early theologians recognized that the Church didn't have a monopoly on profundity. Aquinas did not shirk at the fact that Aristotle believed in Zeus or Apollo. He admired the uniformity of his philosophy. What would become of the Church if it were to drop all of its roots, for example, in Judaism itself? That truth has preceded the Christian faith, there can be no doubt. What the Church did was to baptize these forms of thinking and incorporate them into Christian modes of thinking and living.  It's much like the story of the man using his disk drive as a coffee cup holder.It's certainly effective, as I can attest, but the disk drive was designed for more than that. In many ways, we can equate those outside the Church who strive for truth to this insider Her who do the same. We feebly struggle after the truths which the saints have fully accomplished. Some find the struggle easier than others, but the struggle is still there. God's truth has been appropriated by the pagans before us, so we must certainly build on the good which they have found. Clement of Alexandria and Origen talk extensively on this point. Probably the most eloquent expression comes from Augustine in his Confessions, where he compares the adopting of non-Christian philosophy to Christian thought to the Jews despoiling the Egyptians (Exodus 12:35,36):

"I had sought strenuously after the gold which thou didst allow thy people to take from Egypt, since wherever it was it was thine . . . but I did not set my mind on the idols of Egypt which they fashioned of gold, 'changing the truth of God into a lie and worshipping and serving the creature more than the Creator'." (Book Seven, Chapter Nine, Paragraph 16)

"All good things come from the Father in Heaven", so we are told. The whole world has been allotted its share of divine qualities; that the Church recognizes these should, at the very least, be a compliment to those outside Her. We agree with those druids who recognized that on this day, so close to the middle of the somber decay of Fall, when the Earth gives up her dead in the form of leaves and frost, it is well and fitting that we call attention to those who have gone before us, calling to mind the knowledge that their spirits have not been entirely extinguished. In this the Church finds no fault. Where it finds fault is in the idea that those good and bad wander the earth, causing what they will, with amnesty for all. It calls forth for the summoning and divination of spirits, and manifests witchcraft. These are uncondonable. Still, the Church does not react by silencing the dead and committing them to a Heaven from which there is no interaction, as do most Protestants. Instead, the Church reminds us of the faithful dead, living in Christ, who still care and pray for us miserable sops on Earth. Our earthly existence is intermeshed with the next, with one acting upon the other, but it is not as such that we can call forth spirits on a whim, or that death no longer has dominion over sinners.

Again, I cannot emphasize too much that modern heresies as well as the ancient owe their existence to God. That paganism has been propagated for so long is no doubt due to its finding an enclave within the protection of the Church. Yes, there is much that is wrong within paganism, as well as Protestantism, but there is much good in either as well. And God has decided to bring the wheat as well as the tares to fruition (Matt.13:24-30). The weeds must be rooted out when possible, but some have become so intertwined as to resist removal until both have ripened fully. There is still much good to grow out of Protestantism, and even paganism, but the truths which they furbish must ever be attended to by the Second Gardener, as embodied in His Church.

Throughout the ages, and not just at All Hallow's Eve, that section of mankind which treasures life and beauty and wishes to perpetuate it has eventually found itself at God's doorstep, asking "Trick or treat?" Knowing that God never gives serpents for bread, I think you full well know His reply. Thanks be to God.   








*I was otherwise employed with entertaining young urchins requesting candy, and really not disposed to contemplating philosophical issues while I was demonstrating my shield-throwing skills to the tykes.





** Evangelical Christians as of late tend to show a distressingly disposable opinion of words, as well as concepts. Thus a Christian who formerly went to Church on Sunday to sing hymns is now a Follower of Christ who goes to a Worship Center to sing Praise Songs. Besides sounding, if I may be so bold, linguistically retarded, it reflects the creeping secular influence of the market atmosphere on the temple. Not only are phrases bound with a rich doctrinal history disposed of a la baby diapers, but consequently the ideas behind them take on a less permanent nature. Just because a thing is free (like Grace) does not mean that it is cheap. Modern Evangelical thought has performed the feat of the alchemist by assuring us that this is so. One cannot help but wonder that if a regular Protestant Worship Center is where Grace always comes at low prices [Always. ;)] then Joel Osteen's megachurch is a Worship Super-Center? 






*** I can only imagine the experience of a devoted Protestant meeting the real Martin Luther face to face must be similar to the devoted classicist meeting Homer or Dante. Some of our expectations, to say the least, would be unfounded. This can be good as well as bad.

Ahh, Halloween! A time for third-rate Protestant sociology, speculation, and dilettantism! Goody!

The old paganism of Samhain as well as the neo-pagan cult of Walmartism wouldn't thrive as much on this day were it not that each drew its strength from the Calendar of Saints. If it weren't for the Church sanctifying that day, most pagans would still be counting time by notches in their cave wall and worshipping trees. Now that's only half true.

Um, both?

For the first question - Aren't the two propositions in the first question simply a re-wording each of the other? Unless by "control" and "dictate" you mean that the first proposition refers to brain chemistry directing a previously existing material (sui generis) and the second proposition refers to moods and emotions which proceed from our brain chemistry.

My short answer is "no" to the second proposition. I am not an epiphenomenalist. If the causation of physical events by mental events is such a hard concept to swallow, I can hardly understand why the reverse is any easier. That mental events are the result of physical events, an emergent property, a "train's whistle" as Huxley called them - then where do the qualitative judgements come into play? Yes, eating a lot of chocolate might have the same physiological effect as love, but why should we think this effect is 'lovely'? Why shouldn't we think it ugly or exhausting or chipper or whatever? What makes us prefer one to the other? Why should we bother to reflect on the world?   

On the other hand, a person by no means has complete mastery over their environment. No one can will themselves a steak and eggs with a frappucino at a moment's whim. Although our will can help to alter those physical elements closest within our reach, we don't have the ability to alter the entire universe. (Thank heavens for that!) I guess it could be said that the physical elements around us (such as chemical reactions in the brain) do have some effect on our reason, and that if they were allowed a long enough period of time to form habit, we would be stuck in them. Still, even if we are stuck in the valley of habit, it doesn't always stand to reason that we can't climb our way out. And the environment of the physical for each of us differs individually. We aren't born into the same time or space that our parents were, and neither are any of our friends. So we certainly can't deny our environments. But our volition does allow us a veto against nature, flimsy though it may be.

Blahh, I'm blathering. Perhaps I should go read Hume to set my mind straight . . .

Though it is the singer's art to give fitting expression to the noblest music, it is also his artifice to make something out of nothing.

-- "Edward Johnson"

I cannot recall a time when I was not conscious of the deep, heaving, rolling ocean of hilarity that lies so very near the surface of life in most of its aspects.

-- "Ham and Tongue"

If I am a moralist . . . I am certainly not a gloomy moralist.

-- "Ham and Tongue"

Why is it, sometimes in life, I feel as though the only people I'm talking to are 'exiled Nigerian millionaires'?

Either Circe or a young Miss Havisham. I'll bet both were good-time girls.

Yeah. It's a reading list. I'm currently on Carson McCullers.

The great minds and essayists of Front Porch Republic usually provide a most welcome antithesis to most political discourse nowadays. However, an article that managed to capture my attention lately was that of Patrick Deneen (commenting on an article of David Brooks's) discussing the legacy of Reagan, neoconservatism, and how much the political thought of the former influenced the latter. Deneen questions how much we should emulate the Gipper's optimism as opposed to the paleoconservative's emphasis on pessimism towards the erosion of customs and institutions.

Deneen points out that the optimism of Reagan's career has affected the course of conservatism to date. The question remains, however: did Reagan really break ground with the paleocons as much as is supposed by Deneen? He makes a strong argument that old conservatives emphasized the total depravity of human society. But how much of a degree of change was embodied in the forefathers of modern American thought? Edmund Burke himself admits as much that change is a necessity to preserving any custom or tradition worth preserving. Burke's idea of change, as contrasted with modern thought, is probably negligible. But the genesis of the idea is still there. Could he have forseen to what degree this idea of change would advance? Is neoconservatism just Burkean thought taken to its natural conclusion?

In the course of all these postulations, we must bring up another figure, one ignored even by most paleocons but nonetheless a figure essential to modern conservatism: Joseph de Maistre. "Man", as he said, "is too wicked to be free". For de Maistre, human reason is a faulty guide for the preservation of human society. Burke, of course, admits some degree of freedom and liberalism in order to preserve those elements of society most desirable - the "permanent things". But was he merely opening a floodgate?

I suppose in the long run that the question remains a matter of degree. How much stability and how much fluidity does a society demand? Of course there is no abstract answer. No one situation demands the same amount. Still, the question remains - how to determine what degree of progress is demanded of a time, and whether (as in the current situation perhaps) the breaks of progress need to be pressed.

A question for those accusing Republican senators who voted against Franken's recent legislation (and you know who you are)- how, as members of the Democratic Party, a party that prides itself on non-dogmatism and sophistication, do you profit so much as of late from a spate of generalizations? Are you honestly accuse the GOP at large as a party that is 'pro-rape'? Why do you paint this picture of us as completely devoid of any feeling whatsoever? Don't you think it might be possible that there are more complex issues at hand than simply the issue of rape, such as the prudence of the federal government interfering with contractual laws? How convenient is it for you to paint us now as a group of heartless bastards?

I'm not trying to make this any simpler on my part, however. I am glad for Ms. Jones, and I feel in a sense that it is good that an issue such as the rights of employees to be free from containment has been addressed. I'm not sure that the answer made by Mr. Franken and his constituents is an altogether saitsfactory one, in terms of government involvement but it redresses faults. However, I am not for the demonizing of those opposed. You might not like the Republican side of Congress, and not think too highly of their motives. But while this party is crass, I hardly think it as crass as is made out by you as of late. Need I mention that Franken has made his own number of tasteless jokes about rape?  

In short, please stop villainizing the right of center. I thought this administration was supposed to stand for change as opposed to the rampant emotionalism of the last few years. I'm still waiting.

"To see him act, is like reading Shakespeare by flashes of lightning."

-- Samuel Taylor Coleridge on Edmund Kean

Chalk it up to a bad case of treppenwitz, but the opinions that one might form about a particular show might not be fully formed for quite some time. Such is the case with Twelfth Night and Your Servant. How a show such as that one could leave an audience member so expressionless - whether it can be attributed to the timelessness of Shakespeare, the ingenuity of Mrs. Amy Hayes, or the denseness of this particular audience member - he does not know. What he does know is that, upon seeing the Depauw University production of Tartuffe last week, all those unformed ideas floating about latently in his head took on a conrete form. He suddenly knew why certain scenes or performances in Twelfth Night stood out so vividly in his mind. He was struck with a sense of what was missing - not necessarily as a means of deficiency, but what elements were emphasized at the expense of the rest. In other words, the elements of style.

In many respects, the two shows are quite alike, thought this is not awfully surprising, considering the time period in which the two plays were written and the prolificity of such character types. It is a rare case, however, to see two casts recreate their stereotypes almost back-to-back. Laura Durham is still the unwitting object of aristocratic desire, Alex Thompson is still bumbling absurdity personified, Kevin Bunge is once again the imposing symbol of law and order, (the facetiousness of his character having no substantial effect) and Emily Terrell is still the cynical dispenser of wit (her change in gender having no substantial effect either - to no surprise).  Almost eerily similar is the type of role essayed by Jared Norman in the title role. Despite being the titular character, Tartuffe enters very late into the playing, and his stage time seems to be almost equal to that of Malvolio's. But Norman's Tartuffe, just as did his Malvolio, seems to get his revenge come curtain call time. And why not? With his piercing gaze, Roman features, and his fatally disarming tone of voice, Mr. Norman could make a career out of playing hypocrites who are too enticing for their own good.

The one major departure is Martin Hughes as Cleante, the voice of morality in the show. The part might seem superfluous, but the character has the essential role of the voice of reason - the individual of sanity in a world of insanity. In this sense, Cleante may be seen to have affinity with Feste, in that both have traditionally conveyed the voice of the author's conscience. That Mr. Hughes can go from the righteous fool mocking a pretentious world to the cuor gentil perpetually baffled by his environment, and in doing so retain the ability to engage and entertain, marks him as an actor of many facets. 

But to go now beyond the performances is to demarcate the styles of two different directors - Amy Hayes and Susan Anthony. It is here that their respective philosophies of direction become most apparent. With Mrs. Hayes we really need go no further than the actors. For them, they are it. They are the show.  It is no real misconception to perform a piece like Twelfth Night after the style of McKellen's Macbeth. The Tragedy and the Comedy may be as different as Night and Day, but the human spirit is just as mercurial and intruiging in either. Her productions focus primarily on the architecture of the human personality. One did not need to see a horticultural masterpiece onstage to be gripped with the wonders of the forest in her production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. She is a dyed-in-the-wool Epicurean. She asks of her actors and actresses great emotional stamina, for they provide the stage decoration. They must sing. They must laugh. And above all else, they must dance. Each production done by Amy Hayes doesn't so much as conclude as it culminates in a rave.

This can make for highly entertaining theater, but at the same time it can make for highly erratic theater. There is no doubting that Mrs. Hayes has the enviable ability to summon spectacular performances. But actors have their good days as well as their bad ones. In productions where the acting is the summum bonum, the audience is quite often at the mercy of the particular temperament of the acting troupe. Hence, her productions tend to have an irregularity to them. They are, to quote Mr. Coleridge, like reading Shakespeare by flashes of lightning. Mrs. Hayes's plays have great overwhelming moments of pathos and hilarity, but they aren't consistent. They are more passionate.*

Susan Anthony is, in respects, much more complex. It would be easy to categorize her as traditional in her outlook, and while this might have an element of truth in it, it would be unfair to leave it at that. For her part, Ms. Anthony would appear to be just as demanding as Mrs. Hayes. What she demands, however, is not so much energy as precision. The attention to detail she essayed in her Lady Bracknell is also manifest in her doings as director. The actors under Ms. Anthony need not bear so much the brunt of an emotional roller-coaster as hitting their marks as they were trained to do so.  Also, it is not so much a demanding of actors as it is of her entire crew. The sets, costumes, and makeup of Ms. Anthony's plays, far from being mere accoutrements of the players, have their own unique character. Tartuffe, qua set, is a masterful elaboration of the three-door scheme of traditional French drama. This is no surprise from the lady who concocted the nasty trapdoor of Sweeny Todd or the allegorical table spread of Top Girls. In short, her productions are aesthetically a feast. ** It might be argued that no great emphasis on the human drama tends to alienate, but the reality is that the thespic discipline of Ms. Anthony makes a show that brings in all possible elements, sentient or non-sentient, and utilizes them without any preference to one at the expense of the other. She knows how to bring elements of a show together synthetically. Her style is more organic.

In case a sense of partisanship be detected, perhaps in this conclusion it would be appropriate to state the merits of each style. The passionate performances are those so overwhelming in moments that any other sins of bad taste or boredom might be forgiven. Organic performances, while not entertaining to the degree that the audience member convulses on the floor with laughter, nevertheless has a fully edifying evening of entertainment and can leave the theater feeling pleasantly amused. The difference is that of a display of fireworks and sitting by the fireplace on a frosty evening. This author had the pleasure of doing the latter on a chilly Autumn evening, and could hardly think of anything more physiologically fitting.







* The Author would like to amend this paragraph by stating that, having had the opportunity to act under Mrs. Hayes, he has by no means been immune to this incongruity of performance. On the contrary, he has had more than his share of missteps during the show's run. Honestly, there are few who have been able  to maintain the consistent level of dynamism demanded by Mrs. Hayes. Only one comes to mind.







** There is also the fine attention to the element of sound in Ms. Anthony's shows. It is interesting that one of the major shocks of Natural Selection was the conclusion, and its positively jolting use of enhanced white noise. If Mrs. Hayes were to attempt such an effect in one of her shows, most likely it would an actor enacting the same sort of massive BEEP! One cannot help but wonder if she would employ a certain theater director in that "role."

I certainly have met her. And I know for a fact that she has.

In a suprise announcement this morning, President Obama has been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts at promoting world peace. "many pointed out the youthful leader has not yet accomplished much on the world stage", but as Eugene Rogan of the Middle East Center of Oxford University points out, "But he’s made clear from the start of his presidency his commitment to promote peace. No doubt the Nobel committee hopes the award will enhance his moral authority to advance the cause of peace while he’s still president.”

Unfortunately, President Obama will be unable to attend the awards ceremony. He will be otherwise engaged that day in a ceremony of his own as Gloria Steinem dips him by his heel into the Styx, Richard Rorty presents to him Mjollnir, and Gore Vidal finally gives his Nunc Dimittis.

Why are all hayrides haunted nowadays? Can I find a normal hayride, please? Or is that impossible? Do I need to get an exorcist first?

Otherwise, fall weather is upon Lafayette, fleeting though it may be. Time for nice long walks followed by hot cider and raking leaves. I was even given the gift of sweaters. It's hard to pick a favorite of them, but the argyle style is always hard to top. I've been lucky. I just need to catch up on homework.

An old friend returns from Macedonia this week. Hoping to get in touch with him soon.

"And as Jesus passed forth from thence, he saw a man, named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom: and he saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose, and followed him." -- (Matthew 9:9)

"God made us to know, love, and serve Him in this world, so that we could be happy with Him, forever, in Heaven." -- Baltimore Catechism 


Tax collection has never been a particularly romantic job, and in the times of Biblical antiquity, before modern postal services or anything resembling a commonly accepted currency, travelling into town to pay the tax collector must've had all the charm of a trip to the BMV.  But what was one to do? It was either pay the tax collector on the spot, or be brought before the magistrates on charges. And the tax collectors certainly had records of the size of your estate, the yield of your crop, and so forth. One couldn't fudge. Besides, even if you were honest with what you had, it wasn't as if the tax collectors themselves were going to be as exact. They certainly had to make a living, and could they be expected o provide upkeep with what Rome was giving them?

So it's just another day at the booth. The line is compliant and the scales are tipped in Levi's favor, as they always are. Then His number came up. The Man strolled up to the table and stared the poor perturbed publican down. He had nothing to declare - in terms of money. All he said to Levi was a simple "follow me." And he was gone. We do not know how long Levi tarried, but it must not have been long before he bolted from the customs post and ran down this Stranger for a dinner invitation.

"Follow me" were the only words it took, and this young tax collector would ultimately write a Gospel about this Man, and end up bringing His message to the people of Ethiopia.

"Follow me". Why such simple words? We are unaccustomed to people turning aside for something as short as two words. We expect persuasion, we expect polemics, we expect haranguing, we expect every little cliche that has unfortunately sprung up around Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses. We expect a tract, for crying out loud! But Jesus did not need clever arguing or delicious rhetoric to bring in His Own. All it took was the simple command of "Follow me", and they knew.

Thank God for the unspecific. Sometimes that's just what we need. But I'm not quite sure I believe Jesus was speaking with an economy of words here. But should the genesis of such an undertaking as Jesus has in mind demand specificity? Consider the reproach that Jesus made to the Pharisees condemning His dining with sinners: "Those who are well do not need physicians, but the sick do." (Matt. 9:12)

Now those who are well, when they are well, are "well" in only one way. No one is "almost sick", just as one is not "almost wrong". We also that just as there is one way of being perfectly healthy, there are many different ways in which a person can become unwell. They can have a sore throat or a cut finger or Lou Gehrig's Disease. Do the sick need only one physician? Of course not. No one doctor could hope to have every medicine or master every operation. We do not ask our family doctors to perform the sort of surgery done on a regular basis by Mayo Clinic. Thankfully, for the millions of ailments which face us there are just as many different doctors out there suited to help us. The man with a broken foot needs a podiatrist, the man with poor vision needs an optometrist, the mentally ill need a psychiatrist - the list goes on and on in a world as specialized as ours. But any doctor who's worth his Hippocratic Oath has one thing foremost in his mind: the care of his patient. This is true of any doctor, regardless of the field of their training.

God operates in the same way. Two thousand years after the fact, it is too easy to look at one denomination and say, "The work of God is going on there." As a result of that, we tend to associate exclusively that particular school with Christianity as a whole. But Jesus did not say to Matthew "Preach the Gospel" or "feed the hungry" or "visit those in prison".  Grace abundant provides the impetus, but leaves the particular talents to the respective parts of Its body. "Grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift [. . .] to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God" (Eph. 4:11-13) The Doctors of the Church have not come from one particular profession of people. The Church operates apostolically, prophetically, and scholastically, but overall it works organically, and what gives it life and reason is the seemingly trite statement, "Follow me."

The command seems so outdated to us now. Sure, we think to ourselves, it seemed so fresh to those hearing it at that moment, straight from the source, but what about us now? How can we feel that same, simple persuasive force? Even if we could, how can we tell what role it is that we are cut out for? Well, let's set the matter straight. Touching on the second question, Jesus was not a metaphysical guidance counselor. He trusted this young Judean as a competent fellow who had particular gifts that would mature most nicely. He trusts us in the same way. He entrusted to Levi liberty to do according to his skill - but only to the extent that he followed Christ as his Lord. This might seem stifling, but only for those who have not felt the call. The Christian will tell you there is no freer feeling in the world. But how is this that the Christian can feel free in a position which seems to be the chains of this world? It goes back to the same question as before - how can we feel that force of God pushing us like it did Matthew? The answer is to pray in the same Spirit which flowed through Levi. When Levi received that glance from Christ and the simple words bidding him on, he was caught in the crossfire of Love Personified travelling eternally between the Father and the Son, which we call the Holy Spirit. As Levi followed Christ, this Spirit overpowered him and brought Him into sympathy with God's will. It was not so much Levi losing himself as becoming the instrument of God, an instrument that still needed fine tuning, but an instrument working to its purpose.

If you wish to discern God's call for you - if you want to know beyond a doubt what one task it is He put you on this earth for, the first and most essential thing is to follow Christ. Get to know Him, become familiar with Him, become fast friends with Him - the rest will follow like clockwork. To quote St. Augustine, "Love God, and do what you will."

If you're talking on matters of etiquette, my hope is that future generations will be better suited to identifying which is the salad fork and which is the dinner fork. If you're talking about dietary concerns, read on.

We should eat with an eye more focused on quality than quantity. Like Schumacher says, "small is beautiful". I know I'm the most guilty of this - devouring heaps and heaps of food without taking the time to savor the artistry in each bite. I'm not saying quantity is a bad thing - I'm not envisioning a malnourished populace, by any means - but if we could maybe work, so to speak, on the quantity of our quantity. For example, breaking up the amounts of time we gorge ourselves with intervals of temperance and restraint. Maybe if we kept the times where we eat and drink an enormous amount to special occasions, where we feasted, broken off by times where we marked solemn events with periods of fasting. I don't have the foggiest what they might be called, or when they might be celebrated, but I'm sure we could come up with something.

Oh, and hopefully the future will provide more members for the Slow Food movement.

Snakes have gotten a bit of a 'bad rap' in terms of Christian theology. This is not entirely unwarranted. Of course, there is the 'serpent' of the third chapter of Genesis who is traditionally pictured as a snake, but there is also the incident of the saraph, or fiery serpents sent by the Lord to punish the wrongdoings of the children of Israel in the desert. It is easy to see the association people are quick to make between snakes and the forces of evil. Still, to enhearten herpetologists everywhere, there are also positive references to the slithery kind in the Bible. As a matter of fact, one of the essential characteristics which distinguishes a believer from the rest of the world. Our Lord asks us not only to be harmless as doves, but cunning as serpents. (Matthew 10:16) This is crucial, and yet again we must look to Our Lord for the perfect example. He is as cunning as a serpent. There is no action which Jesus performed on this planet which did not serve the greater purpose of glorifying God and insuring the salvation of mankind. Actions of his which seemed nugatory or downright insane served this greater plan, much as a snake's sidewinding ways brings it closer to its prey. This brings me to the most bewildering moment in the history of the world, the moment where Christ zigged when human experience tells us he should have zagged - the Crucifixion. God-in-Man is most exalted in the exaltation of the Cross.  

Christ forshadowed His death to Nicodemus using symbolism associated with serpents. He describes His role in salvation, referencing the incident from desert history described in Numbers. Three points must be emphasized. The old serpent was bronze, as that metal was traditionally used with vessels and altars in connection with sacrifice. The bronze serpent saved merely a person by acknowledging its presence. Moses's saraph is lifted up for the whole tribe to be able to see. Christ is our bronze sacrifice; Whether He dies in our place or for our example, His death is so that we might not perish, but have eternal life. He is the antidote; life's long list of ills find its recourse in Christ's Presence. And He is there for all to see; He was raised up on the Cross so that all subsequent generations could look back to an obscure hill in Israel and see God. For in the Cross lies the bite of the Cunning Serpent. This is the bite where we are overpowered. But while a snake's venom infiltrates our blood, Christ's blood (redemptive grace) infiltrates our venom (sin).

Before I conclude, I'd like to comment further on the idea of exaltation. Christ is exalted in three ways: on the Cross, from the Grave, and into Heaven. First, when Christ died on the Cross, He endowed everyone who suffers for good with an implicit dignity. "Truth is forever on the scaffold," says James Russell Lowell, and  our time certainly has no shortages of martyrs, whether they know it or not. These martyrs are sharing in Christ's glory through their sufferings and reminding us of the inherent worth of suffering for righteousness' sake. At the same time they also serve to condemn the whole world. No longer can we look on the innocent who suffer with apathy. For each man's fate is intertwined with their fellow's. We can no longer say "Forgive us, Father, we know not what we do." Christ's death has made that all too terribly clear. Second, Christ laid in the earth for three days and descended into Hell. It has been said that there are only two constants in this our life - death and taxes. Jesus was by no means afraid to undergo both. He gave to each exactly what was required of it. Caesar got everything that he asked for in terms of earthly things. But to God was returned His gifts of honor, glory, justice, faith, hope, and love. Hence also we say "the death that He died, He died to sin once for all" . . . this being the proper payment . . . "But the life that he lives, He lives for God." (Rom. 6:10) Sin is no longer the invincible monster, but has been dragged down by our Champion with Him into Hell. Which brings me to the third point. Death is no longer undefeated. It cannot keep us down for the count. This is because Christ is ultimately exalted into Heaven. Christ was not merely resuscitated to Earth before returning to the grave. His was a continual ascent, ending at the Right Hand of God. In all of this, through His strength, Christ leads us continually out of pain and despair. His path for us is no different than His own. If there are moments where we feel that we are encountering unpleasantness or aversion, we must not think that Christ will keep us there, but that it leads toward a richer, fuller life. Sir Winston Churchill said it best: "If you're going through Hell, keep going." Keep going, because that is the Messiah's path.


I'd like to finish with a story of the events surrounding this day. St. Helena, the mother of Constantine the first Christian Emperor, is celebrated as the saint who discovered the location of the True Cross. Helena was so excited that, not only did she take the Cross back with her to Rome, she took soil from Calvary hill and built her palace in Rome in that dirt. I only relate this to reiterate a final point - Helena knew that her faith needed grounding in the dirt as well as exaltation. She knew that a house of strong foundation would stand the firmest. (Matt. 7:25-27) The Cross isn't some floating entity but is grounded in the earth. No doubt a lot of you have a cross or crucifix in some exalted place your home (such as on the wall) as a reminder of the Sacrifice of the Atonement. I am not disparaging this practice in any way. I actually think it's a good practice to keep it around always. But we must remember that it is not exalted in the sense that it's off in some sacred little corner all the time, or that we must go looking for some great noble tribulation. Our faith is grounded in "the earth", so to speak. It is mainly through everyday experience. Our experience of the Cross should not just be mounted on the wall, but carried around with us everywhere we go. (I daresay an experience of the Crucified Christ is more essential for the Christian to carry with him than a book or a relic.) Our Cross on the wall should be there to remind us of the Cross that we each carry with us every day, humble and worthless it may seem. Only from the latter can the former be exalted.