Entering the Thanksgiving – Christmas season (known to Catholics as “Advent” because we await the “advent” or “coming” of Christ) I’ve had a number of inspiring experienes: (A) sitting on the Mall admiring the Capitol… yes, even with all the scaffolding on it (B) attending the wake of a Bishop who just died (C) meeting a student from Georgetown who’s majoring in “Social Justice.” Very diverse encounters to be sure, but they got me thinking about a major theme for this season and this town: desire. Over the next few days I’ll be posting on some different dimensions of desire in our life as Washingtonians:
The Desire for “Peace on Earth and Goodwill Toward Men”
“The Deepest Roots and Highest Aspirations of our Yearnings: ‘The Love that Moves the Stars’ ”
I hope you’ll find these musings both edifying and useful. Happy Thanksgiving!
The beginning of conversation at just about any DC get together: “So what do you do? Where are you from? Where’d ya go to school?” We’re all from somewhere else; a fact very much on everyone’s mind as Thanksgiving travel looms. This past weekend I spent a bunch of time in airports myself, traveling to/from a college friend’s wedding. The experience of strange airports, and hotels took me back to the start of my life in DC. Then (1999), Washington was a shiny new airport called “National.” It was hotel lobbies and university tours. It was coffees at “XandO Cafe” and “Kramer Books”… and it was infinite excitement at even the possibility of an [unpaid] internship that would spread democracy (somehow) through my best efforts… on a copy machine.
I’d be willing to bet that many of us can recall some variation on this theme in our own DC story. It’s an important part of DC’s identity and culture: So many of us are from somewhere else. So many of us arrived in this place in need of hospitality, vulnerable to one extent or another. On the flip side, the shared experience of moving to DC disposes our fellow citizens to give hospitality to visitors and new arrivals.
…All good stuff to think on as we travel the highways and byways later this week… and even more so as all roads lead back to Washington after the holiday.
For further reading, consider ethicist Leon Kass’ excellent book, “The Hungry Soul.” In it, Dr. Kass maintains that all the best dimensions of our humanity (including the vulnerability/hospitality dynamic above) play out in the experience of dining… which is another wonderfully Washingtonian experience! Happy Thanksgiving DC!
Ask anyone if they know who Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614) was, you’ll get a blank stare. Ask anyone who El Greco was, you might get a few less blank stares. Ask anyone who’s been to the El Greco exhibit at the National Gallery of Art and you’ll get a stare, but it won’t be blank, it’ll be filled with awe. El Greco was a Greek painter (from Crete) whose talent with the brush led him to begin an artistic career in Renaissance Rome before leaving the Eternal City for an artistic career in Spain. Combining oriental piety, with stylistic trends from the Venetian and Roman schools, El Greco’s achievements in Spain are a credit to his name Theotokopoulos (“God Bearer”).
Libraries have been written about El Greco’s work. What most interested me about the NGA’s exhibit was his synthesis of Greek Italian and Spanish influences into style all his own. Looking at the eternal truths of Christ’s life through this artist’s singular lens made me think about them in new ways… And isn’t that what sacred art does at its best? In the words of St. John Paul II,
“Art renders visible the perception of the mystery which makes of the Church a universally hospitable community, mother and traveling companion to all men and women in their search for God.” (JPII, Letter to Artists)
When it comes to El Greco’s style, it was all his own, but was it perhaps something more: a gift… could something that is both so unique and so true be a gift from God?
“When men have a longing so great that it surpasses human nature and eagerly desires and is able to accomplish things beyond human thought, it is the bridegroom [Christ] who has smitten them with this longing.” (Nicolas Cabasilas, Life of Christ, II.15 )
So there are two forces in play: eternal truth and seeing eternal truth in a new way that nevertheless preserves that truth. From a Catholic point of view, this is the essence of what Vatican II tried to do… and what new evangelization is trying so desperately to do. Whether you’re Catholic or not, the concept of presenting transcendent truths for the respectful consideration of ones neighbor is never a bad idea. In this regard, maybe all of us could take a lesson from Domenikos Theotokopoulos.
PS: Also of note in El Greco’s work: the influence of Toledo, Spain – his adopted home. A number his works include the architecture of Toledo in the background… a testament to the enduring power of good public architecture.
Note: I found the exhibit much more rewarding after seeing the 30min video in the conference room on the lower level of the Gallery.
How good and how pleasant it is,
when brothersdwell together as one!
What’s so happy about happy hour? …or spinning class? …or social media for that matter? It’s the other people, isn’t it? On the flip side, one of the greatest tragedies of city life is that people can live in the midst of a metropolis and feel completely isolated (What St. John Paul II referred to as the “anonymity of the city”).
More than most, Washington is a city built for community. Think about it, an artificially created jurisdiction whose whole purpose is to bring together representatives from across a continent. Even the physical layout of our city is meant to bring people together: our many parks, traffic circles and other green spaces. My grandfather once commented, “It’s a tragedy that people should fight so viciously in a place so beautiful.” Contemporary additions to our communal dynamic include the Metro system and now social media. Consider how excited people are that the silver line is nearing completion… Where does that come from? The DC bar and restaurant scene, and now the advent of coffee culture all serve to bring people together because that’s where people are happiest – in the company of friends. Why?
Catholic tradition holds that made in God’s image and likeness, humans are most human when they live in community. God is one God in three Persons (Father Son and Holy Spirit). So we form families – unified domestic communities of persons. Likewise we seek out friends for a drink after work, for exercise and recreation at our gyms… and now, we use social media [at its best] to extend that communion across vast distances and circumstances.
Looking to Genesis we find that when Adam was alone, there was something incomplete?? about him, and so our humanity was split-in-two “God made man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them.” (1:27) Adam needed a partner with whom he could share his life and his love (Gn 2:20), and so came Eve. There is a need in our humanity to resemble the Trinity. Is it any surprise that so many of Jesus’ greatest moments happened around dinner tables (Cana, Zacchaeus, Martha and Mary, the Last Supper to name a very few)?
…just something to think about next time you find yourself smiling at a Happy Hour, or feeling good about your next trip to the gym to workout with a friend.
Also try visiting the webpage for our local Young Adult Ministry, which hosts great sessions of Theology on Tap.
Pass the windows of any DC coffee house, glance around you on the metro…when it’s warm again, look to any park bench and you’ll see it: Washingtonians reading. To all those grade-school teachers who warned millennials that watching TV would stop us from reading, this certainly counts as a plot twist! Admittedly some people now use their mobile devices for video games on the long bus ride home… and those who are reading aren’t necessarily plumbing the depths of Plato or Plotinus… but let’s look for the good with eyes of faith!
St. John Damascene writes:
“The apostles saw Christ in the flesh: they witnessed his sufferings and his miracles and heard his words. We too desire to see and to hear and so to be filled with gladness. …Since he is no longer physically with us, we hear his words read from books and by hearing our souls are sanctified and filled with blessing and so we worship, honoring the books from which we hear his words.”
St. John is talking about specifically liturgical texts, but we can telescope his teaching into the world. For Catholics, all truth finds its origin and end in Christ the living Word of God. Searching out truth can always [then] be a Christ-centered experience… a touching of the divine. That’s what’s so exciting about the proliferation of mobile devices.
Whether in novels or treatises, the great truths of our human experience are now available at the touch of a screen. Many of our classic texts are even available for free. Case-in-point: a friend of mine wrote nearly his entire theology thesis based on resources kept on an iPad. Another colleague keeps his entire library in his pocket. New note taking options on devices like the Kindle even allow for the cross-referencing of texts and one’s own thoughts. Truth in the palms of our hands.
Consider this too, all technology is in one way or another an extension of the person wielding it (Pop culture example: Thor’s hammer, Tony Stark’s “Iron Man” Suit). Very often these tools extend/magnify our strength. In the case of mobile devices we’re extending something else though, our reason… that gift which makes us most like God. …quite a thing to share with the world.
Mr. [Fred] Rogers once testified before the US Congress that the space between a child and a TV is sacred because of the personal formation possible there. Likewise for St. John Damascene the space between a reader and a sacred text… and for us the space occupied by our mobile devices. Whether in a coffee house, in the Metro, on a park bench, reverence for the good that can happen as we search for truth can help form us into the best versions of ourselves. Pretty cool, huh?
Puccini’s La Boheme, had a much greater effect on me than I was expecting. The storyline was simpler even than the synopsis I read two nights ago… Girl meets boy, they fall in love, girl gets sick, girl dies. The music, the music was much more. It’s going to take some time to unpack the power of Puccini’s melodies.
The Surprise – La Boheme is principally about people in love, but what really stuck me was their poverty. Mimi dies of consumption, brought on poor conditions. In every scene, poverty is an unseen character as the cast cajole their way out of paying rent, trick the aloof Alcindoro into picking up the lunch tab or pawn clothing just to buy food. In Act I, Scene I, Rodolfo (a poet) burns his poetry just to stay warm. The duet he sings with his roommate Marcello elevates the moment through their fraternity, but there’s a symmetric tragedy to burning your living just to stay alive. At the end, Mimi dies shortly after her friends have run to pawn their clothing for medicine.
I spent some time today meditating on the Seventh Commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.” In relation I consulted the social teaching of the Church to see how I might conceivably have preached Mimi’s funeral. Catholics believe in a concept called the “destination of material goods” (Catechism Para. 2403-04). All resources are ultimately intended for the flourishing of the human family. St. John Paul II said,
“Christian tradition has always understood this right [to property] within the broader context of the right common to all to use the goods of the whole of creation: the right to private property is subordinated to the right to common use, to the fact that goods are meant for everyone.” (Laborem exercens, para. 14.1-2)
NOTE: St. John Paul precedes this with a warning that this teaching “diverges radically from Marxist collectivism… and it differs from the program of capitalism.” Neither system can claim the Church as its own.
What the Church’s social teaching is getting at is this: Before we are “labor or management”… before we are “poor or rich” all of us are “people” … People who can love and sacrifice for each other, just as Christ does. On that basis we should at least work to keep each other alive and healthy… before we worry about increasing each others property. Such indeed was the case for poor Mimi, who – as one capable of such love – deserved better than to die for lack of medicine. …Certainly something to think about as the holidays and (more urgently) the cold weather arrive in the capital of the richest nation in the history of history.
Check out “Touring Tips” for thoughts on Dining before Performances at the KC.
Tonight, I make pilgrimage to the pantheon of DC culture: The Kennedy Center. La Boheme is closing this week and I’ll be going to see it with a friend. It’ll be my first time seeing/hearing this classic of the repetoire.
Among the many adjectives ascribed to opera, one must certainly be, “Over the top.” Storylines are frequently complex, never dull. Plots range from the very most tragic to the heights of Olympian triumph, never neutral. The music represents an incredible synthesis of melody and character development, perhaps the world’s first form of multi-media entertainment. And then there is, of course, the volume (‘nuff said). Yes, opera is superlative… and because of that many people turn away from it. “To each his own,” I suppose, but opera can prove a great exercise in measuring how we live.
Chapter five of Vatican II’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church frames the life of human beings as an ongoing response to what, in the Church, we call the “universal call to holiness.” The most condensed summary I can manage is this: God invites and affirms that all people can be more like him; each in a way particular to his/her vocation and life circumstances lived according to the truth. Not a bad starting point for leading one’s life… but something we can easily lose track of. Commenting on the universal call, theologian Marianne Schlosser (Univ. of Vienna) comments in the winter 2013 edition of Communio International Catholic Review,
“Holiness in every day life as inconspicuous as it may be, is not humdrum… The language of a call to holiness is challenging, indeed, ‘steep’ – an ‘arduum’ is sought and hoped for from God.”
And here, we come back to the world of opera.
Opera’s etherial heights and infernal depths mark the dimensions of human experience, perhaps not as we see them, but certainly as God created them. Mothers and fathers balancing the struggles of child-rearing, work, social and civil life are saints and heroes; likewise the idealistic young intern moving to DC to make our country a better place. Reading the synopsis of La Boheme last night, I discovered that it is the story of poor hard working students who fall in love. They pawn their meagre possessions for food and medicine. They wear tattered clothes. They die. Nothing could (to human eyes) seem more humdrum, but Puccini’s music helps us to see their ordinary lives through eyes of faith in which heroic love and tragic death reveal something deeper about ourselves, a touch of the divine… so that even at the tragic end we stand up and applaud beauty in the opera, and in ourselves.
Washington has many faces: monumental DC, quiet Sunday morning DC, buzzing active DC, and of course… clogged DC. You know… It’s that map of the Mall on the front page of the Post the day before every holiday… the map with all those red lines where open streets should be… the metro announcements that begin, “Blue Line service will be suspended until…” Clogged DC can be spontaneous too; when you hear the sirens of a sixteen car motorcade coming out of nowhere. ..and God forbid you should get stuck behind a Metro Access van. Parades, protests and presidents are a regular part of life here. Consequently so is the virtue of patience… one hopes.
Patience is the virtue that disposes us to protect good reason against passion (especially sorrow). -St. Thomas Aquinas
Patience it is whereby a man bears evil with an equal mind, lest he abandon with an unequal mind the goods whereby he may advance to better things. -St. Augustine
Standing on a metro platform, or stuck in traffic on a crowded bus at rush hour, patience can be hard to find, but don’t make it harder on yourself than necessary. Consider this…
Virtues are habits built up over time. They always involve struggle, sometimes failure, but over time they involve growth. Patience is hard for everyone, but every struggle brings us closer to achieving that habit and keeping sorrow at bay. Growth in virtue never stops until we [hopefully] reach heaven… which means some degree of struggle will always be with us. Is there any comfort in this world? Certainly…
By definition, when we’re stuck in traffic, we’re stuck with others. Waiting on a metro platform is rarely a lonely event. We’re all in the same boat. That’s a comfort unto itself. It’s also an opportunity for us to frame the struggle for patience as setting a heroic example for the person next to us. Somehow when we’re doing it for another person – even a stranger – struggle becomes more tolerable. Who said you couldn’t look at traffic with eyes of faith?
Words have power. In high school, Bro. George began Senior English, “In the beginning was the word…” (Jn 1:1). Words form our sense of self. Francis Bacon wrote, “Reading makes a full man; conference makes a ready man; writing makes an exact man.” Whole civilizations have coalesced around words. Italy’s fractious provinces and principalities found common identity in Dante’s Comedia Divina (written in vernacular Italian) long before they identified with the tricolour flag. The British established the architecture of modern commerce and globalism by spreading their language to the 25% of the world’s population once held under their imperial sway. Gandhi, Dr. King, and many others have moved whole populations to control just anger, channeling it into effective non-violent protest. And most recently, consider the “Washington Redskins” (need I say more?). Words have power.
That’s why today’s Washington Post article “Redefining the N-Word,” by D. Sheinin and K. Thompson is so fascinating. Before going any further, let me say: This post is not meant to come down on any side of any argument about any word. Today, I’m marveling at the processof talking about words, and a very few of the many phenomena that influence that social conversation. The WP article in question is spurred by he NFL’s latest attempts to ban the n-word from use on the field. It raises some interesting questions (some in the article, some just in my own musing):
Do words have an absolute / fixed – value? …or do words depend wholly on context for their fullest definition? In English, probably a little of both… and when a word seems to move between those to categories confusion and concern result. What is the role of history in language? Throughout English history, words have morphed in meaning and weight. What seems to be so new is the speed with which words change… Has there ever been a time when a word (e.g. the ’n-word’) has -in the course of one generation- so radically and frequently changed? What role has instant print, radio and now digital media played in that process? Can language be controlled by coercive force (e.g. a school district …or here, the NFL)? …and even if it can be so controlled, should it be so controlled? Does today’s article display features of Orwell’s “1984,” or Tocqueville’s “Democracy in America”?
Traditionally linguistic questions could find resolution… a final stamp of (dis)approval, either in academia or in the daily language of civil government. Does such a lexical court of final appeal exist today? Has English, at least in the U.S., split into so many mutually exclusive socio-cultural sub sets that emotionally charged words like “Redskins” or the “n-word” will forever be without final definition?
I dont’ have a final answer to any of these questions, but ongoing debates about words can serve as a great forum for our own personal formation as each of us strives to use language prudently and temperately for the good of others and the glory of God.