"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena

Friday, March 27, 2015

Faith Filled Friday: “Redemption” by Johnny Cash

This is the perfect Lenten song.  From the first time I heard this song and no matter how many times I’ve heard it, it still overwhelms me.  This is Johnny Cash at his finest and most authentic.  This song just hits you right in the gut.

I have to post the lyrics as well.


From the hands it came down
 From the side it came down
 From the feet it came down
 And ran to the ground
 Between heaven and hell
 A teardrop fell
 In the deep crimson dew
 The tree of life grew

And the blood gave life
 To the branches of the tree
 And the blood was the price
 That set captives free
 And the numbers that came
 Through the fire and the flood
 Clung to the tree
 And were redeemed by the blood

From the tree streamed a light
 That started the fight
 'Round the tree grew a vine
 On whose fruit I could dine
 My old friend Lucifer came
 Fought to keep me in chains
 But I saw through the tricks
 Of six-sixty-six

And the blood gave life
 To the branches of the tree
 And the blood was the price
 That set captives free
 And the numbers that came
 Through the fire and the flood
 Clung to the tree
 And were redeemed by the blood

From his hands it came down
 From his side it came down
 From his feet it came down
 And ran to the ground
 And a small inner voice
 Said "You do have a choice."
 The vine engrafted me
 And I clung to the tree

And the blood gave life
 To the branches of the tree
 And the blood was the price
 That set captives free
 And with the numbers that came
 Through the fire and the flood
 I clung to the tree
 And were redeemed by the blood

From his hands it came down
 From his side it came down
 From the feet it came down
 And ran to the ground

"Redemption" is track #11 on the album American Recordings. It was written by Shakur, Tupac Amaru / Rouse, Ricky. Read more: Johnny Cash - Redemption Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Wow, I foundd it hard to believe Tupac Shakur gets a songwriting credit on this, but there it is.  It’s a great song. 

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Literature in News: Catholics In England Gather to Pray for Richard III

Well, this isn’t quite literary news per se, but when I think of Richard III, I don’t necessarily think of the historical king, but the character in Shakespeare’s play titled after him.  First the news.  As you may have read, the remains of King Richard III were recently discovered and confirmed in 2012, and so a proper burial is now in order.  From the Catholic News Agency

In preparation for the reinternment of the remains of Richard III, a 15th century English king whose body was only recently rediscovered, Cardinal Vincent Nichols of Westminster has offered Compline and a Requiem Mass for the late monarch.

“This evening we fulfil a profound and essential Christian duty: that of praying for the dead, for the repose of their eternal souls,” Cardinal Nichols preached during a March 23 Requiem Mass said at Holy Cross Priory in Leicester.

“The prayer we offer for him this evening is the best prayer there is: the offering of the Holy Mass, the prayer of Jesus himself, made complete in the oblation of his body and blood on the altar of the cross, present here for us on this altar.”

Richard III was born in 1452, and reigned over England from 1483-1485, when he died in the Battle of Bosworth Field. He was the last king of the House of York; he was succeeded by Henry VII, founder of the House of Tudor.

His corpse was buried without pomp, and subsequently lost. It was found in 2012 under a parking lot in Leicester, 30 miles south of Nottingham, on the site of Greyfriars, a Franciscan friary dissolved during the English Reformation.

Richard III’s reign obviously predates the Protestant Reformation, and so is a Catholic.  I’m not sure if it’s obligatory, but his remains should have some sort of Catholic blessing as a religious closure.  Again from the CNA article:

His body has been kept at the University of Leicester, and was processed to Leicester Cathedral, an Anglican church, on Sunday.

That evening, Cardinal Nichols led a Compline service at the cathedral, during which Richard's coffin was sprinkled with holy water, and incensed.

“This sprinkling with holy water is a reminder that King Richard, at the beginning of his life, was baptised,” the cardinal reflected. “He was thereby called to live as a follower of Jesus Christ.”

“The deepest intentions of Richard have always been hard to fathom. Yet that is often true for many of us. Within the depth of his heart, amidst all his fears and ambitions, there surely lay a strong desire to provide his people with stability and improvement.”
Cardinal Nichols noted Richard's achievements, including a development of the presumption of innocence, the concept of blind justice, the practice of granting bail, and translating laws into the vernacular, while adding that “nevertheless his reign was marked by unrest and the fatal seepage of loyalty and support.”

“All of this reminds us, if we need reminding, that baptism does not guarantee holiness of life or saintliness of nature. But it gives a fundamental and enduring shape to a journey through life, in all its struggles and failures.”

He recalled Richard as a man of prayer and “anxious devotion,” who composed a surviving prayer and established chapels.

“We pray that, being brought into the presence of that Divine majesty, Richard may be embraced by God’s merciful love, there to await the final resurrection of all things in the fullness of time.”

When the Cardinal said that “ the deepest intentions of Richard have always been hard to fathom,” he is referring to the nature of Richard III’s character.  Richard has come down in history as an evil Machiavellian who killed people on his way to the crown.  I’m no historian here, especially of English medieval history, but whether Richard was as truly evil as history remembers him seems to be in dispute.  Richard III ultimately lost in a power struggle which resulted in a civil war, and, since the winners in history tend to write the history, of course every possible negative was placed on Richard.  But even more significantly I think Shakespeare fossilized our perception of Richard III when he took history’s view and developed a most enticing character, a character not only malicious, but enjoyably malicious because you can see the working logic of his malice in his brain, if you will.  It’s a great play because the evil Richard III comes alive to the audience.  The perceptions we moderns have of Richard III has been formed by the play.

I’m not going to quote character developments in the play, but I do want to quote that last scene, since it is tinged with religious reverence for the dead.  It’s Act V, Scene V, and the Battle of Bosworth is coming to an end, and the two antagonists, Richard III and Richmond, who will become king with the victory, meet.  It is also worthy to note that in the previous scene Richard could have run off in the face of defeat but decides to fight to the end.  

SCENE V. Another part of the field.

Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD III and RICHMOND; they fight. KING RICHARD III is slain. Retreat and flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords

God and your arms be praised, victorious friends,
The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee.
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal:
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!
But, tell me, is young George Stanley living?

He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town;
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.

What men of name are slain on either side?

John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.

Inter their bodies as becomes their births:
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
That in submission will return to us:
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose and the red:
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long have frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire:
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division,
O, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so.
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again:
That she may long live here, God say amen!


Look how Catholic those lines are, especially “ta’en the sacrament.”  Of course Shakespeare has the excuse of setting a play in pre-Reformation England, and so for verisimilitude has the excuse to incorporate Catholic language, but he didn’t have to.  One of these days I will pull all the evidence together to show Shakespeare was a Catholic, but until then you’ll have to take my word.  

And so, my prayers for Richard III.  May he have embraced Christ in the end and asked for forgiveness of his sins.  Requiescat in pace.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Poetry: “Baseball Canto” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Today is poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s birthday.  I was surprised to see he’s 96 years old today.  Boy he’s lived a long life.  I remember reading a poem of his called “Endless Life” where he describes the feeling his life has been going on forever, and that must have been written some thirty years ago.  He really has been living endlessly!  I don’t consider him a great poet, but I have to admit he’s a secret pleasure of mine.  Like most of the Beat poets, he can be fun to read without taking the themes seriously, which I guess does a disservice to them since they want to be taken seriously.  I would classify Ferlinghetti as San Francisco radical, which is pretty radical.  But Ferlinghetti isn’t usually caustic; he goes down softer.

And to honor his birthday and the upcoming baseball season, which is about ten days from starting—I can’t wait!!—I’m going to post this Ferlinghetti poem on baseball.  I don’t know when this was written, but Juan Marichal, Tito Fuentes, and Willie Mays played together for the San Francisco Giants in the late 60s and early 70s. 

Baseball Canto
By Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Watching baseball, sitting in the sun, eating popcorn,
reading Ezra Pound,
and wishing that Juan Marichal would hit a hole right through the
Anglo-Saxon tradition in the first Canto
and demolish the barbarian invaders.
When the San Francisco Giants take the field
and everybody stands up for the National Anthem,
with some Irish tenor's voice piped over the loudspeakers,
with all the players struck dead in their places
and the white umpires like Irish cops in their black suits and little
black caps pressed over their hearts,
Standing straight and still like at some funeral of a blarney bartender,
and all facing east,
as if expecting some Great White Hope or the Founding Fathers to
appear on the horizon like 1066 or 1776.
But Willie Mays appears instead,
in the bottom of the first,
and a roar goes up as he clouts the first one into the sun and takes
off, like a footrunner from Thebes.
The ball is lost in the sun and maidens wail after him
as he keeps running through the Anglo-Saxon epic.
And Tito Fuentes comes up looking like a bullfighter
in his tight pants and small pointy shoes.
And the right field bleechers go mad with Chicanos and blacks
and Brooklyn beer-drinkers,
"Tito! Sock it to him, sweet Tito!"
And sweet Tito puts his foot in the bucket
and smacks one that don't come back at all,
and flees around the bases
like he's escaping from the United Fruit Company.
As the gringo dollar beats out the pound.
And sweet Tito beats it out like he's beating out usury,
not to mention fascism and anti-semitism.
And Juan Marichal comes up,
and the Chicano bleechers go loco again,
as Juan belts the first ball out of sight,
and rounds first and keeps going
and rounds second and rounds third,
and keeps going and hits paydirt
to the roars of the grungy populace.
As some nut presses the backstage panic button
for the tape-recorded National Anthem again,
to save the situation.

But it don't stop nobody this time,
in their revolution round the loaded white bases,
in this last of the great Anglo-Saxon epics,
in the territorio libre of Baseball.

Yes, even here he mixes some sort of radical politics, but what the heck.  The radical lines and phrases make me laugh.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Personal Note: Computer Problem Update

I told you about my computer problems, and how an apparent update forced a password option, which I didn’t set, and so then I couldn’t get into my computer, and I was going to lose all my saved data since there is no way around the password and all that was left to do was reconfigure the computer.  I also mentioned that HP sent me some discs that might be able to go around the password to retrieve my data.  Well, my IT guy at work offered to help me with that, but when he got into my hard drive, it was already blank.  It had gotten wiped out apparently from when the HP technician had me go through a bunch of steps. 

So I lost it all.  My work IT person was gracious to reload the Windows operating system and my Microsoft Office.  Now I’ve got to reset up everything else.

What I lost were my blog posts from the turn of the calendar year and ones that I was working on.  I had a few that I put a lot of work into but had not posted yet. 

This reminds me of an experience I had going through an airport a few months ago.  I took a knapsack with me as my carryon bag, and to my dismay I had inadvertently left a Leatherman tool inside after I had checked my bag and it went off through the x-ray.  One of these.

Actually this was on the return leg of the trip, and somehow it had passed—can you imagine? Makes you wonder about security—on the outbound leg.  I tried to get a hold of my checked bag, which was impossible, and then after much frustration and feeling my blood pressure rise (the agents, except for one, were not all that accommodating or considerate) I decided to check my carry on.  I had that Leatherman for ages and it had a nice case too.  I felt an attachment to it, so I decided it was worth the $25 to check the bag.  But then the agent tells me it’s $35 to check a second bag, and that’s when I felt a release of peace come over me.  I turned and told the unhelpful agent, “Oh screw it,” and then I turned to the helpful agent and tossed it to him and said, “It’s yours.  Enjoy it.”  I then picked up my carryons and left. 

A point was reached where it wasn’t worth the frustration and it was best to pass on the material possession.  Even though I had an attachment to that possession, I just passed it on with the hope that God intended better things to come of it for someone else. 

So as to my lost data, I’ll try to reconstruct what I can if I have the time, otherwise, may God have better plans.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Faith Filled Friday: Glory Be

I just love this prayer.  So simple.

Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.  Amen

Stacy Trasancos, who writes a wonderful blog on science and her Catholic faith (She has a PhD in chemistry and a Master's in theology.), referred to the Glory Be when she was contemplating the stars.  Here are the first two paragraphs.

The other night, I was frustrated with my critics, frustrated with my children, and frustrated with my disobedient German shepherds who take my donning of a coat to mean the dawning of a walk, even near midnight.  I was grateful to be pulled outside though. The sky was clear beyond bits of late snow, one of those spirity nights when the winds of impending Spring wipe away the clouds, and the starlight casts shadows. “My God,” I prayed, “the stars are so bright!
When you understand something about matter at the atomic level, both starlight and snowflakes can induce that embarrassing human act called sudden-unabashed-weeping. Those dots of light are actually massive spheres of plasma, some of them billions of years old, radiating energy when hydrogen nuclei fuse to become helium and helium becomes heavier elements. The light I saw traveled for years to reach my eyes. And the snowflakes? Each one’s beauty is scripted by the union of chaos and determinism, unique in its trajectory through other matter and changes in temperature and pressure, but patterned at consistent angles by the polarity and bond of every water molecule. They melted on my face, never to be seen. Under such an interactive firmament, it’s hard to feel unappreciated. Goodness, I felt downright glorious.
 Who says faith and science are compatible?  How wrong they are.  You should read the entire post, here.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Personal Note: Computer Problems Again

Agghhh.  That nice new computer I bought around Christmas is in shock.  Here's what happened.  Saturday night an HP (It's a Hewlett-Packard computer) update popped up and I accepted and I don't know what else it made me do.  Then on Sunday, my password to get in didn't work.  I tried everything.  First I called HP and they told me it was a Microsoft issue.  So I called Microsoft and and after going through a few things determined it was not a Microsoft password issue but a "local" password issue.  Apparently one's Microsoft software and one's local hard drive have separate passwords.  I never set up a local HP password.  Microsoft could do nothing and had me go back to HP

Long story short, HP technician said there was nothing to do but wipe the computer clean, and since I had not backed up anything yet (it was a new computer after all, and I had just bought a back up drive but had not used it yet) I was going to lose everything I had saved.  OK, I blew a fit and my Italian temper got away from me.  Then the technician said that there was a chance - only a chance -  that a certain method might be able to save my data.  They sent me a bunch of CDs and DVDs that are supposed to recover.  Now I just got those yesterday and have been afraid to try it myself.  People at work have gone both ways.  Some agreed with me that it's unlikely that there is no way to get around a password failure.  The computer technician seemed to think that it was impossible if I had not set up an administrator account.

So here I am and afraid to try the remedy.  I have a hunch that technician from HP was just trying to appease me.  I'm going to bring the computer into work for someone to look at it.  I'm a computer ignoramus as evident by this mess.  I might just go to a computer store for help and see what it will cost for them to try to retrieve my info.

Now if worst case scenario happens and I lose my stored data, it won't be the end of the world.  I've only had the computer short of three months, but I had worked a number of my literary analysis that were getting close to being posted.  I put some work into that but I had not put any pictures or valuable information.  Still it sucks.

And get this.  My old computer that was dying and was the reason for buying the new one is working great.  Problem was that I had reached its memory limit - limit is less than they tell you - and when I deleted some super high memory files it started running better than new.

I hate computers.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Word of the Day: Joy

I’ve been reading Pope Benedict’s Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives and came across this fascinating little passage on the word rejoice.  It certainly would have been fitting if I had posted this during the Christmas season, but I read this recently and it’s fresh in my mind.  The Holy Father is discussing the Annunciation to our Blessed mother.

A striking feature of the angel’s greeting is that he does not address is that he does not address Mary with the usual Hebrew salutation shalom—peace be with you—but with the greeting formula chaîre, which we might translate with the word “Hail,” as in the Church’s Marian prayer, pieced together from the words of the annunciation narrative (cf. Lk 1:28-42).  Yet at this point it is only right to draw out the true meaning of the word chaîre: rejoice!  This exclamation from the angel—we could say—marks the true beginning of the New Testament.   (p. 26)

[Quotes are from Image edition, 2012]

So it when Gabriel comes to the Virgin, he isn’t just greeting her with “Hail Mary,” he is greeting her with “Rejoice Mary.”

The word reappears during the Holy Night on the lips of the angel who says to the shepherds: “I bring you good news of great joy” (Lk 2:10).  It appears again—in John’s Gospel—at the encounter with the risen Lord: “The disciples were glad when they saw the Lord” (20:20).  Jesus’ farewell discourses in Saint John’s Gospel present a theology of joy, which as it were illuminates the depth of the word.  “I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (16:22). (p. 26-27)

Gladness in the John 20:20 quote is synonymous with joyous.  Here then is the conflation of several Biblical events to the word “joy.”  This observation is quite significant.

Joy appears in these texts as the particular gift of the Holy Spirit, the true gift of the Redeemer.  So a chord is sounded with the angel’s salutation which then resounds throughout the life of the Church.  Its content is also present in the fundamental word that serves to designate the entire Christian message: Gospel—good news.  (p. 27)

Pope Benedict wrote this in German, so something might not have been completely conveyed in the translation.  Gospel or “good news” is sometimes translated as “glad tidings,” which can therefore be translated as “joyous tidings.”  So then at the heart of Christian faith is joy.  This is what the Holy Father means above by “the theology of joy.”

And that is so true.  What separates my life from the moment I fell in love with my faith—not just embraced it, but fell in love with it—is the joy that I feel afterward.  I’m not even sure I know how to describe it other than to say it’s joy, but a joy beyond common joy, a supernatural joy.  I’ve tried to describe this to atheists or even just routine, non-devout Christians.  They understand it because it’s a foreign feeling to them.  It’s not like the joy that I get from following baseball.  I do get joy from that, but it’s not the same as the joy from Christ.  That’s divine joy.