Lent: Anna #23

 It is appointed for us

   once to die;

and after that,

   comes judgment.

   (Hebrews 9:27)

Dear Anna,

No one’s favorite verse: “…once to die and then comes judgment.” I bring it up because the parable of the ring ends with each one “appearing before the judgment-seat—the greater one.” Between now and then, the penultimate “modest judge,” encourages each religion: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, to live according to “the virtue of his ring; with gentleness, benevolence, and forbearance.” It is good advice. As the Apostle puts it: “Do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart” (1Cor 4:5).

All three Abrahamic monotheistic religions share a common belief in a final judgment. It is the thing that bothers people the most about Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. They all believe that the One God, created the heavens and the earth when there was no heaven or earth; and that some day, heaven and earth will be no more, and God will make his judgments. Creation has a beginning and an end. Science has come up with a similar cosmology: the universe has a beginning (big bang) and will have an end (fissiles out). Only, we believe creation will not just wind down as science has it but will be wound up redeemed and renewed: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (Rev 21:1).

The good news about the Gospel, is that final judgment has been given to God the Son: “The Father judges no one but has given all judgment to the Son” (Jn 5:22). Our Judge is our Savior. That’s Gospel—good news. Remember how Lewis depicts this judgement of our Lord in the last Narniad?

The creatures came rushing on, their eyes brighter and brighter as they drew nearer and nearer to the standing Stars. But as they came right up to Aslan one or other of two things happened to each of them. They all looked in his face. I don’t think they had any choice about that. And when some looked, the expression on their faces changed terribly—it was fear and hatred. …And all the creatures who looked at Aslan in that way swerved to their right, his left, and disappeared into his huge black shadow. …the children never saw them again. I don’t know what became of them. But others looked in the face of Aslan and loved him, though some of them were very frightened at the same time. And all these came in at the Door, in on Aslan’s right.

Then comes Aslan’s eternal romp “further up and further in.”

Love, Papa

Lent: Anna #22

 

 Without faith,

   it is impossible to please God.

   (Hebrews 11:6)

Dear Anna,

We enter the season of Lent that leads us to Calvary and Easter Morning. You can’t skip and just land on Easter morning. We are asked to participate in Christ’s sufferings. Even his Gethsemane struggles, when Jesus cried out, “Take this cup from me!” True faith cannot help but wonder, “Is it really true?” In faith, and with the unseen help of the Holy Spirit, we say, “Yes, it is really so!”

The tale of the ring reminds us that, chances are, we find ourselves born into a particular Faith: Christian or Jewish or Islam. What if I had been born a Jew? Or, what if I had been born a Muslim? In short, what if I had been born and raised in another Faith than my own? It is a fair question—the kind of questioning a mature faith requires.

Our Faith has its reasons—reasons enough to say, “I am not ashamed of the Gospel.” For starters, only our Faith has Lent with Good Friday followed by Easter Morning. And, of course, before that, Christmas Morning. It is also interesting what our Faith does not have: no fast days, no dietary law, no circumcision, no required pilgrimages, no ethnic qualifications. Just you as you and Jesus as Jesus. That is enough.

In the midst of all other options, like Peter, we too confess, “Where else are we going to go? Only you Jesus speak words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68). To ask for more would be to eliminate faith itself; for, as the Bible tells us, “Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hb 11:6).

 Love, Papa

 

Lent: Anna #21

Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain,

   but you say that the place where people

   must worship is in Jerusalem. (John 4:20)

Dear Anna,

Okay, let me try to sum up the parable. To the Sultan’s question: “Which faith appears to you the better?” Nathan answers with a parable about an heirloom ring given to a man of the east. The ring had the power to make the wearer pleasing in the eyes of God and mankind. The ring was to be handed down to the most beloved son regardless of order of birth. “At length,” as Nathan weaves the story, “this ring descended to a father who had three sons.” The father loved all three equally and ended up promising the ring to each. To keep his promise, he secretly had a great jeweler make two replicas of the original so that on his deathbed he gave a ring to each. So ends Nathan’s tale, but as Nathan tells the Sultan, “All that follows may be guessed, of course.”

What follows is the predictable quarrels over who owned the real ring. Nathan will pick up the story by bring in a “modest judge” to adjudicate. Since the rings were so perfectly duplicated, the judge points out that all three could be duplicates of the one true ring which has now been lost or hidden. Since one could not decipher the original ring, the judge offers his advice: “Let each vie for the virtues of the true ring” by living lives of “gentleness, benevolence, forbearance with inward resignation to the godhead.” The “modest judge” will leave ultimate judgment to the “greater one” before whose judgment-seat we will someday stand.

The parable is told during an armistice in Jerusalem at the end of the Third Crusade (1189-92). It is a reminder to us that there were times when each of the Abrahamic religions, as you call them: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam; lived peacefully together with robust banter and non-violent mischief.

Love, Papa

Epiphany: Anna #20

 

I will speak to you

   in parables. (Matthew 13:34–35)

 Dear Anna, 

We returned from Mount Herman rather late yesterday. Grammy did all the driving. She is exhausted. It was all quite wonderful meeting and loving and renewing old friendships. This morning I spent some time with that parable you want to read, the Parable of the Ring found in the middle of Gotthold Lessing’s 1779 play, Nathan the Wise. Close to 1776 when our founders made a bold decision concerning our own state religion.

I keep trying to get to the parable but get waylaid by all that is before and after and within. What are we to make of all the banter, duplicity and machinations that take place before we get to the parable?  When Saladin, the Muslim Sultan. invites Nathan, a Jew of wealth who folks deem as wise, to his Palace he asks Nathan, “Which faith appears to you the better?” Is that really why Nathan was invited to the Sultan’s Palace?

Nonetheless, Nathan, like the wise often do, answers with a parable; or, as Nathan calls it, “a tale.” To which the Sultan replies, “I always was a friend of tales well told.” Like on most every page of Lessings play, the banter goes on: “Well told?” Nathan responds, “That’s not precisely my affair.” “Again, so proudly modest,” the Sultan responds, and then adds, “come begin.”

Nathan begins. The Sultan finds himself enjoying the tale so much that he laments when it comes to an end: “Thy tale, is it soon ended?” To which Nathan, the storyteller confirms: “It is ended, Sultan.”

Yet, in no time, we discover it hasn’t actually ended for there is a story about the story. Okay, let’s get to Nathan’s parable. Or, let’s not. I best save the tale itself for tomorrow or the next day.

Love, Papa

 

Epiphany: Anna #19

  

One wise in his own eyes,

   is worse off than a fool.

   (Proverbs 26:12)

Dear Anna,

I found “The Parable of the Ring” you wanted me to read—act three, scene seven in Nathan the Wise, right? On my way there—to act three, scene seven; I got to know Nathan the Wise. Though he is called “wise”; he will not acknowledge such for himself. Reminds me of the proverb quoted above. “One who deems himself wise is worse off than a fool.”

That’s the meaning of “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Within the sphere of the Fear, God allows us to pursue wisdom, but he never allows the wise to get the upper hand. Watch how God does away with a good and wise and, one could argue, even true proverb (Ezk 18:1-4):

The word of the Lord came to me: What do you mean by repeating this proverb concerning the land of Israel,

    “The parents have eaten sour grapes,

           and the children’s teeth are set on edge”?

As I live, says the Lord God, this proverb shall no more be used by you in Israel. Know that all lives are mine; the life of the parent as well as the life of the child is mine: it is only the person who sins that shall die.

There is nothing technically wrong with the proverb. It is a wise and witty saying. It’s just that God has had enough of it. Or again, like Elrond in Rivendell, when the council of the wise, by surprise, chose Frodo to take the One Ring and cast it into the fires of Mount Doom. Elrond muses:

This is the hour of the Shire-folk,
        when they arise from their quiet fields
        to shake the towers and counsels of the Great.
Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it?
        Or, if they are wise,
Why should they expect to know it,
        until the hour has struck?

(Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, Bk Two, chp. II)

 In short, like Nathan the Wise, wisdom knows it doesn’t know it all: “Where is wisdom to be found?” (Job 24 a repeated refrain) Who knows? It is the wise who wonder where wisdom is to be found.

Love, PAPA

Epiphany: Anna #18

Youth well Versed in literature

    and language. (Daniel 1:4)

Dear Anna, 

Near four years ago, your auntie Rachel set up this blog so Papa could pass on stuff. Since then, there is a handful of folks who have joined us reading along from time to time. And since I have yet to figure out how to set up a blog response; some of those looking on, may wonder if you ever respond to Papa’s blogs. Especially when I end with a “What do you think?” I learned that from Jesus, who liked to tell a parable and then ask, “What do you think?” Isn’t it something that Jesus is interested in what we think?

Anyway, where were we… oh yes, about your response. Even though I get your response via phone text; others, don’t get to see your responses. So, let me slip in your response to our last blog concerning my Renaissance surprise. Leonardo Bruni, writing in 1436, claiming that Latin reached its vigorous refinement and subtleties with Cicero (40bc) during the last days of the Republic; and, how the rise of emperors and the loss of the Republic, led to the demise of the Latin language. Which led to the claim that tyranny ruins language.

You respond: “The Latin I learn in class is the Latin from the age of Cicero… In the passage I translated today, Cicero writes that a good orator will ‘animos audientium tangit’ or ‘touch the spirits of the audience.’ I think a tyrant can use language to suppress political opposition and, in turn, creative literature.” Does that lead us to a fire pit discussion of what kind of government gives us such creative freedom; and, what sort of government suppresses creative expression? Or does political correctness eclipse creative expression?

Love, Papa

Epiphany: Dear Anna #17

 

Please speak in your
   Aramaic language…
Do not speak in the
   Language of Judah.  (Second Kings 18:26)

 Dear Anna,

Look what I came across this morning reading tidbits from The Portable Renaissance Reader:

The Latin language, in all its perfection and greatness, flourished most vigorously in the time of Cicero, for its first state was not polished or refined or subtle, but, mounting little by little to perfection it reached its highest summit in the time of Cicero. After his age it began to sink… (Leonardo Bruni, Patrarca and the Art of Poetry,1436, p. 127).

You are reading Cicero this week, right? Did Bruni have it right? He meshes the vitality of the Latin language to the state of the Republic: “Latin language went hand in hand with the condition of the Roman Republic, which had also grown in power until the age of Cicero.”

With the loss of liberty to the rule of emperors “who did not desist from killing and eliminating men of excellence, the flourishing conditions of studies and of letters perished, together with the welfare of the city of Rome.” Are you not studying political theory as well? Can it be that tyranny messes with the beauty and wonder of language? As our politics goes, so goes our language. What do you think?

Love, Papa