Memorare

Non esse auditum a saeculo, quemquam ad tua currentem praesidia,

tua implorantem auxilia, tua petentem suffragia,

esse derelictum.

William (Bill) "Buck" Milton Brigman

Kingdom Come

My grandfather stepped into eternity at 12:15 Tuesday morning. So, eternity is where (or when) I will start. In a room full of family and friends last night, I started to have an odd realization. I looked around a room full of old friends, blood relatives and in-laws. Talking music, eating, telling stories; my uncle impersonating (very well) the classic Bill Brigman laugh. In that moment I felt more clearly than almost ever the intermingling of Heavenly and earthly reality. Pop was the epicenter of every single relationship in that room. Today's closest of friends for decades, brought together through mutual acquaintance with Bill. Husbands and wives along with their offspring and the life shared between them, given existence out of the gift of his life with my grandmother. It was honestly very hard to feel the lack of Pop's presence in that moment. Our Lord teaches us to pray, "Thy Kingdom come," because the nature of our universe is such that the co-mingling of the Kingdom and this present world are constant. We often hear the clichéd statement of a passed-on loved one being always present in spirit, but I believe that now more than ever. Eternity is all-encompassing and infinite. It envelopes and embraces our being in-time. Therefore, in a very real way, in this overlapping, we were all of us uniquely in the presence of our grandfather, our friend (and Brother), our father, our husband and lover. I do not doubt that Pop was more aware of this fact than we were. But, I couldn't help but sense that the spirit in that room, the bond of companionship and love we shared, was identical to the spirit of my grandfather who, in the story of his life, bound and wrote us all together.

Life of Questions

This week (as I have been almost every week of my college and post-college life by some person or another) I was asked by a friend of Pop's what kind of market a major in Philosophy puts me in. I tend to think the answer is the marketplace of questions. Few subjects that I know of trade in volumes of questions outnumbering that of Death. Chief export among them being: "Why?" Why was this person taken from us and why now? Today during the funeral, however, I started asking myself different questions. Why did my grandmother's father pass away when she was a child, leaving my great-grandmother to raise 4 kids on her own in a tin-roofed, hand-built house with no indoor plumbing or electricity? Why did Miss Tessie have to become such a strong matriarch? Why did my grandmother watch her and learn how to be a strong woman who loves fearlessly? Why was my grandmother a strong enough woman to reign in a wild Buck of a sailor like my grandfather? Why did my grandfather grow up with a strong mother whose husband left their family behind and learn to appreciate strong women? Why did my grandmother already have apprentice's experience to raise 4 kids on her own and hold the family together while my grandfather was away serving two tours in Vietnam? Why wasn't Pop physically able to pack his bag for one specific shore-leave and get on the helicopter that ended up crashing into the sea? Why did an officer who out-ranked him force him to give up the seat he always sat in on river patrol the very day its occupant would be hit directly by a rocket in an ambush? Why has the fabric of reality spanning generations, continents, and families been stitched together to lead us to this moment in this church, surrounded by a palpable and tangible spirit of Love lynch-pinned by the marriage of my grandparents?

Remember

The opening Latin lines of this entry are from a 15th century prayer. They read: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to Thy protection, implored Thy help or sought Thine intercession, was left unaided." Those words beautifully describe the lasting lesson I will take from my grandfather, and I think every person privileged enough to know him would say the same. My uncle spent a lot of time putting together a collage of photos and images from Pop's life. He made the comment to me that in studying my grandfather's life through these pictures you can watch him change profoundly through the years. Rather than growing sad and cynical through the years like so many, the opposite was true in him; joy took root in such a profound way that one can see a man who found happiness. Where did he find it? What about his life caused his happiness to be continually compounded? My grandfather's greatest joy and most profound happiness was found in the giving of himself to the people he loved. The more people the more family the more friends, the more he was able to give. This is the part of his legacy I hope we all can remember. Happiness is directly proportional to the giving of oneself.

One of Pop's all-time favorite songs. One of the enduring lessons he taught me is that any 60s compilation lacking this song is not worth your time.

Incline My Heart and I Shall Desire

The people above have been waiting hours upon hours upon hours, braving the elements, anxiously awaiting the moment when the Apple store will open its doors and graciously allow them the privilege of dishing $500+ for the iPad2. This year I chuckled and shook my head as I saw families camping outside the doors of Best Buy...on Thanksgiving morning. Sacrificing time. Sacrificing family. Sacrificing dignity. Longing for the advent of Black Friday.

Whether it is the thrill of the deal, an insatiable desire to consume, or the fruits of a wider capitalist zeitgeist, one thing seems clear: people will do whatever it takes to spend their money on newer, better, bigger, sexier, totally-awesomer stuff. We love our stuff. Our stuff--having our stuff--pleases us. So, it is perfectly reasonable for us to go to whatever lengths necessary in order to acquire more, experience more acquiring.

We will wait as long as is required to experience again that which we find most fulfilling.

I can't help but visualize the weekly procession of church-goers slowly filing forward to receive the Blessed Sacrament of communion. I wonder how long we would be willing to wait in this line; fifteen minutes? Half an hour? Two hours? All morning? Would we pitch our tents like pilgrims on the mount? What would we be willing to give up in exchange for the Blood of Christ: the Cup of Salvation?

The Psalmist writes, "Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, / but you have given me an open ear. / Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required" (Ps. 40:6). "He calls to the heavens above and to the earth, that he may judge his people: / 'Gather to me my faithful ones, who made a covenant with me by sacrifice!' / Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, / and pay your vows to the Most High" (Ps. 50:5, 14).

I cannot even attempt to fathom the public response if the Apple corporation made the following announcement: "Tomorrow, Apple will be giving iPad2s to every individual who comes to Apple stores and asks for one. The sole condition is that any individual receiving an iPad2 express sincere gratitude. Our supply is unlimited, and all stores will remain open until every person seeking this gift has received it." Pandemonium I think would be accurate. Utter, joyous chaos.

Why, then, is it so easy for us to approach the Eucharist with such morose indifference, or if we're generous with ourselves, gracious entitlement? I suppose that it's human nature in a way. We grow accustomed; even to miracles. I can't remember ever in my life praying, "God of creation, thank you for hydrogen." Without hydrogen, the universe as we know it would not exist. The very fabric of space and time would be utterly unrecognizable from the reality we find ourselves in. Without the fusion of hydrogen a few minutes after the big bang, the most basic building blocks of matter itself never would have come to be; our fate sealed billions of years before our most distant of ancestors even had a solid piece of rock to take a single step on. While I'm thinking about it...Dear God, seriously, thank you for hydrogen. Amen.

This, however is the beauty, the mystery, the reality of what is taking place before us on the altar every time we participate in the Eucharist, or in English, the Thanksgiving. The fabric of our existence, the building block, the cornerstone of our reality, the Divine Logos by which all that is (seen and unseen) came to be, makes Himself present for us to hear, to love, to eat. Eternal fulfillment.

A prayer of St. John Chrysostom:

O Lord my God, I know that I am not worthy nor sufficient that you should enter under my roof into the habitation of my soul, for it is all deserted and in ruins, and you have no fitting place in me to lay your head. But as you humbled yourself from the heights of your glory, so now bear me in my humility; as you did deign to lie in a manger in a cave, so deign now also to come into the manger of my mute soul and corrupt body. As you did not refrain from entering into the house of Simon the leper, or shrink from eating there with sinners, so also vouchsafe to enter the house of my poor soul, all leprous and full of sin. You did not reject the sinful woman who ventured to draw near to touch you, so also have pity on me, a sinner, approaching to touch you. And grant that I may partake of your All-holy Body and Precious Blood for the sanctification, enlightenment and strengthening of my weak soul and body; for the relief from the burden of my many sins; for my preservation against all the snares of the devil; for victory over all my sinful and evil habits; for the mortification of my passions; for obedience to your Commandments; for growth in your divine Grace and for the inheritance of your Kingdom.

This red blotch is the most distant object ever viewed in the universe. To reach this compact galaxy of very hot, very massive, young stars, just jump in your car and drive non-stop at 700 million miles per hour. It will take you 13.2 billion years to get there.

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right and NYC

In case you haven't had the chance to talk to a conservative lately: THE MUSLIMS ARE TRYING TO BUILD A MOSQUE IN NEW YORK CITY ON GROUND ZERO AND ANY PATRIOTIC, CAPITALISM-LOVING AMERICAN SHOULD BE UTTERLY OFFENDED!!

When I first heard about the proposed plans to build a mosque near the former World Trade Center site, my initial response was pretty mild; I really didn't care. Then, to my surprise, several weeks later I realized we were in the midst of a media explosion concerning what had apparently become a supremely important, hot-button issue. Shortly thereafter I could not believe the extent to which people were losing their minds over the whole thing.

I have no interest in recapping (as I'm sure you have no interest in re-reading) this whole debacle from start to finish. I would, however, like to simply stake up a few points and present my interpretation of one side of these events, considering I have very limited knowledge of what is actually taking place 'on the ground,' as it were. 

Cultural Isolationism: The American Right

I have to say the irony here is hilarious to me. For the last 2 years, the Right has tirelessly undergone a flash makeover from the aggressive neo-conservatism of George W. Bush and John McCain to a nostalgic, half-baked constitutionalism led by media stars such as Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin rather than traditional politicians. So, I suppose it's no surprise that the precious Constitution of the United States--tearfully clung to when fighting taxes and gun laws--has so suddenly been put in check by questions of prudence and (imagine!) contingency.

That being said, it seems clear that with the November elections rapidly approaching, the party of Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich have thrown their ideals out the window in order to concoct a very powerful wedge issue. The republic as we know it cannot function efficiently when people try to understand one another and find some unum in their pluribus. When we are on the eve of an election, it is essential for citizens to be pushed as far to one side or another in order to ensure a decisive victory.

The goal here, as per usual for the GOP since 9/12/01, is to exploit the emotional memories of September 11 to conjure up an Us vs. Them situation which I'm calling Cultural Isolationism. In the same way economic isolationism seeks to protect domestic product and labor by shutting out all outside influence, I see recent trends in conservative politics trying to protect American culture--and I should stress that this is an idealized, fabricated notion of the true founding-fathers-judeo-christian-American culture--and 'American values' by seeking to divide and isolate.

We must be extremely mindful of what is going on here, and what the results will be if we allow a very select few to determine what American culture--or perhaps more accurately, American demographics--should look like. For the American right, it's clear this Islamic center issue is not a Constitutional one. Nor is it even an issue of respect for the dead. This has everything to do with fear and power. Fear of the outside, fear of appearing weak, and power to melt the great American experiment down to a neatly defined, isolated conservative reduction.

There is really no debate, as far as I can tell, over whether anyone has the right to build a place of worship; of course they do. Furthermore, we all know it's wrong to forbid someone from building a place of worship just because they are of the same religion as a random group of terrorists. Let's instead think about who is benefiting from this even being a debate, and whose lives go by the wayside while it happens.

Okay, Glenn Beck (Rights, the Constitution, and Soviet Aesthetics)

From time to time I purposely subject myself to things like Glenn Beck's television show. Call it a kind of monastic self-flagellation. I try to be well-rounded in my consumption of political commentary, and I really do believe that we all benefit from hearing things from a different perspective. On one particular occasion, however, after watching a mere 13 minutes of his program, my head hurt so much that I couldn't even laugh at the absurdity of what was being spewed.

I love a good discussion, and I love hearing opinions that are not mine. But, dear Glenn Beck, please, for my sake, ensure that your opinions at least make sense.I've taken the liberty of transcribing the best part to give you an accurate representation of what was actually said without leaving anything out and without paraphrasing, but if you can stomach it, you can watch the full, weird, pathetic, woeful lamentation here (and i don't hesitate to use those words, because sounding pathetic and woeful is clearly Beck's shtick). Beck began his program by using an old wooden chair to represent the quote-unquote true America as it was in its 'original state.' Then came:

There were rallies today in California and all around the country (facing video of protesters lining the streets with placards). They were promoted as--look at these pinheads--they were promoted as 'saving education.' Well who--who doesn't want to save education? But the education budget wasn't the real goal. Let me show you a little something about the people involved in these protests. These were the posters that were used to promote this (walking toward a large poster featuring a slogan, and a logo of a fist on a book, painted in red, black, and white hues). Right here: 'Education is a human right.' Really? Wow. Education is a human right--boy this--almost looks like old, Soviet propaganda art dud'n'it? These people feel so strongly about education, you think they'd be educated to know that education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one. Let me clarify that; the United Sates Constitution doesn't mention that; this one does (holding a red document inscribed with Russian writing). This one. This is the Soviet constitution. Oh, it mentions education; free education for everybody, mhm. Let me help. Save the education. Rights do not come from government, they never have. If they do, you end up with a completely different government. You end up with a footstool or you end up with, what are those things that--stockades. Your rights come from God. If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away. In America you don't have that right. This is what knowing what this chair is all about is all about. You gotta know what it is. Adding in education is just adding another coat of ugly paint; another ding, another scratch, somebody else just standing on it or, whatever. It wasn't designed to do that. If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair. Something entirely different than this because that's not what this one does. That's what this one does (raising the Soviet constitution).

First, I just want to lay out one of Beck's lines of persuasion: If the the cause is protected by the Soviet constitution (and the art looks Soviet!), then the cause is fought for by communists. Therefore, I'd like to point out to Glenn that article 53 of the Soviet constitution defines marriage as being between one man and one woman. Right now, Mr. Beck, there are people--people protesting to have an identical article added to our sacred constitution. Here--in the God-blessed U.S. of A.! Please, Glenn--reveal this conspiracy to the world. Stop these pinheads from passing these--they call them 'protection of marriage' acts--but we know what the real goal is.

Second, I think Beck is very confused in regards what he actually thinks about the nature of rights. Granted, his job is to say things, not to think about them, so we must offer him a measure of grace. Let's try to help him out, though, by pointing out a few conflicting little nuggets:

• "...education is not a right. The Constitution doesn't mention that one." Again, let's lay out this logic: The U.S. Constitution does not cite education as being a right. Therefore, education is not a right. We can also infer based on this argumentation that the Constitution is exhaustive in its delineation of rights, since we should not be adding more. Furthermore, we have assurance that by way of granting us the rights it does mention, the document also assures them to us against forces which might seek to take them away. Fair enough.

• "If government grants you rights then you're a slave to the government, because if they grant them, they can also take them away." Wait, Glenn, so are you saying that you and I and all U.S. citizens are enslaved by the Constitution rather than liberated by it?

• "Rights do not come from government, they never have." Oh, okay good, you had me scared for a second there. But you're still appealing to the Constitution to hold your whole argument together. So, if the rights granted in the Constitution are not granted by the government, then who grants them?

• "Your rights come from God." Alright, I'm following. Our rights come from God, and the Constitution is an explanation of those rights. Now, just so i can pass this knowledge on to unbelievers, can you point out to me the Scriptures the founding fathers used when they were putting this list of rights together? Maybe just the ones talking about the right to form a well-regulated militia, protection from quartering of troops, protection from unreasonable search and seizure, oh and right to counsel, I better memorize that verse, prohibition of excessive bail, and lastly, since states' rights is a big issue right now, where in the Bible should I look to show people that powers not delegated to the United States are reserved to the states or the people? ...what do you mean there's nothing in the Bible about that? Okay, I get it, so the United States Constitution is an extra-Biblical revelation the founding fathers of the nation were divinely inspired to write down. Got it.

The talented Mr. Beck has apparently acquired the unique ability to believe three distinctly different things about the nature of rights at the same time! Rights are granted by the Constitution and rights have never come from government (in fact, "If you want government to start granting rights then perhaps it's time to start looking for something other than a chair") and political rights come from God!

Well, I do think Glenn is right about one thing. If your entire conception of the rights we now or ever could have is based on the U.S. Constitution (the version we have in 2010), then you truly are a slave to it. And I must stress here, on a philosophical basis, that more accurately, you are a slave to your conception of and interpretation of that piece of paper. In Beck's case, one can conveniently forget about something like the 9th amendment (my personal favorite):

The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

So here, I will try, on behalf of our good friend Glenn Beck to clear up some of his confusion:

• There are indeed certain fundamental things we know about humans, by nature of their being created in the image of God, which entitle them to certain rights.
• However, the rights themselves are not granted by God. It is people themselves who have the responsibility of recognizing these truths and seeking to allow various rights and responsibilities universally to others.
• In the case of the United States Constitution, our founding fathers wrote down an interpretation of--not an explanation of--the 'inalienable rights' they observed; they labored within their own personal/historical/social contexts to provide the nation with a basic understanding of these. So, for them it made sense that the right to vote applied only to white, land-owning males. However, over time, our interpretation of that same right has evolved.
• In addition to the evolution of recognized rights, our common collection of basic human rights, and our conceptions of them, is equally dynamic. Obviously, part of this is due to shifting collective political mindsets. However, I think the bigger reason is that the nature of our shared experiences is constantly changing. For example, not only have we chosen over time to collectively reject the idea of slavery itself, the picture we get of 21st century slavery is vastly different than the picture of 18th century slavery; the specific human rights relating to this issue often deal with things like forced sexual relations with children, as opposed to, say, racial domination.
• If the communal landscape is such that people choose to deem education a right, then by way of the liberties supposedly entitled to them by prior rights agreements within given communities (such as the Constitution), the people may choose to paint their chair whatever color they please. (Or create and adopt new agreements; see The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, drafted in 1948, believe it or not. See specifically article 26.)

As far as I can see, aside from blatant errors in argumentation, Beck's fundamental error is that of making the issue of Rights an ontological question, rather than a hermeneutic one (for that matter, I think he's forgotten that rights, in practice, are a political question!). So, it's no wonder all he has to grasp onto to hold his position together are bizarre conspiracies, fear tactics, and nostalgia. Though, I'm not sure if nostalgia is the right word for pining after bygone things that were never there in the first place; I think that might be more related to dementia.

Sustainable, Responsible House Cleaning

So, readers, I'm aware that many of you are, like me, seeking out ways to be more conscious of how we relate to and interact with the world around us in our daily actions. Many of you are married, have your own places, or are just seeking to be more responsible; others are wonderful, tree-hugging hippies and vegans who will no doubt think I'm way behind the times on this.

At any rate, I thought I would pass on some info about a company I've been reading up on called Ecover (yep, click that), who makes ecologically-friendly cleaning products for everything from your car to your laundry to your hands. The point of their cleaning products is to reduce the insane amount of chemicals we not only dump into the environment when we throw out our garbage, but also the harmful materials we're subjecting ourselves to. They are also all about rethinking the industry and being ethical and sustainable from factory to store. The natural plant products used are conscientiously farmed, and both of their super sweet green factories (no longer an oxymoron) actually attract tourists because they're so mind-blowingly not wretched. If you look at the picture above, you can see it's naturally insulated with grass, and there's a bunch of skylights that follow the path of the sun, so next to no artificial light is needed. You can read about that too.

Oh, and their products are vegan!

Also, the prices are pretty killer and practically all of them are as cheap, if not cheaper than the crapola we're poisoning ourselves and the environment with right now.

Why I Love Charles Dickens

I've heard from various people on various occasions that Charles Dickens is indulgent, overly-descriptive, dry, and boring. On such occasions I have found that the majority of these people have never actually read more than a few pages of his work, and on these occasions I have found I need only suggest a book or two of his in order to defend him.

Right now I am reading Oliver Twist, which has always been one of my favorites. I would also highly recommend Hard Times.

Here, I wanted to share a couple excerpts from Oliver Twist that I found particularly amusing, both of which illustrate in his own satirical way what I think is Dickens' acute sensitivity towards the industrialized age's particular brand of poverty, and which might convince some of you into reading some Dickens before you decide he's lame and boring.

Sevenpence-halfpenny's worth per week is a good round diet for a child; a great deal may be got for sevenpence-halfpenny, quite enough to overload its stomach, and make it uncomfortable. The elderly female was a woman of wisdom and experience; she knew what was good for children; and she had a very accurate perception of what was good for herself. So, she appropriated the greater part of the weekly stipend to her own use, and consigned the rising parochial generation to even a shorter allowance than was originally provided for them. Thereby finding in the lowest depth a deeper still; and proving herself a very great experimental philosopher.

...at the very moment when a child had contrived to exist upon the smallest possible portion of the weakest possible food, it did perversely happen in eight and a half cases out of ten, either that it sickend from want and cold, or fell into the fire from neglect, or got half-smothered by accident; in any one of which cases, the miserable little being was usually summoned into another world, and there gathered to the fathers it had never known in this.

I also enjoyed this later exchange:

...Mr. Bumble...returned; and, telling him it was a board night, informed him that the board had said he was to appear before it forthwith.

Not having a very clearly defined notion of what a live board was, Oliver was rather astounded by this intelligence...Mr. Bumble gave him a tap on the head, with his cane, to wake him up: and another on the back to make him lively: and bidding him follow, conducted him into a large white-washed room, where eight or ten fat gentlemen were sitting round a table. At the top of the table, seated in an arm-chair rather higher than the rest, was a particularly fat gentleman with a very round, red face.

'Bow to the board,' said Bumble. Oliver brushed away two or three tears that were lingering in his eyes; and seeing no board but the table, fortunately bowed to that.

...'I hope you say your prayers every night,' said another gentleman in a gruff voice; 'and pray for the people who feed you, and take care of you--like a Christian.'

'Yes, sir,' stammered the boy. The gentleman who spoke last was unconsciously right. It would have been very like a Christian, and a marvellously good Christian, too, if Oliver had prayed for the people who fed and took care of him. But he hadn't, because nobody had taught him.

...Oliver bowed low by the direction of the beadle, and was then hurried away to a large ward: where, on a rough, hard bed, he sobbed himself to sleep. What a noble illustration of the tender lawas of England! They let the paupers go to sleep!