Monday, 15 August 2016

On Moderation

Temperance, or moderation, is the virtue that avoids excess, especially of the passions. Many of these lead to crimes: anger to murder, greed to fraud, gluttony to consuming the goods of others, lust to rape and rapine. Looking at that sorry spectacle, the news, I witness failure of moderation in persons and states.
            Making good decisions requires moderation. Wisdom, called prudentia or prudence, foresees the steps that must be taken to result in the good. Justice wills to restore to others what belongs to them and fortitude (courage) moderates both fear and recklessness. There’s a tendency toward a line of calm with the virtues, however stressed the situation.
            Today’s news about child abuse shows passions without moderation or justice, governors without wisdom or courage. News about asylum seekers shows governments without wisdom, courage, moderation or justice. The vices are more practiced than the virtues.
            While Paul states that one of the fruits of the spirit is self-control, we might be complete atheists and still aim for moderation, and avoid crimes of passion. Forgiveness and mercy belong to the wise. Courage faces what has been done, and is being done. We could have an adventure. We could live virtuous lives.

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

On Terror and Pity

There’s an effort of will in committing a murder, or mass murders. By beginning with respect for the agency of souls even in the presence of mind-altering drugs whether natural or attained, I perceive that action results in guilt. Guilt is objective; it has nothing to do with feelings or motivations: we bathe in it every day. Hence the world’s redemption, accomplished through a judicial murder, to expiate the guilt of us all.
           Too much terror is about. Too many murders and mass murders: too much guilt. Too much fear for ourselves, for others. Terror creates consequences.Those of good will and sanctity pray for killers as well as victims: that is, the guilty as well as the innocent. ‘Troubled soul’ is the image.
            I’m reminded of Aristotle’s view that tragedy clarifies the emotions through pity and fear. To return ourselves to human scale, the appropriate emotion towards the guilty — whether through circumstance or design — is neither sympathy nor understanding, but pity. These individuals are in the hands of the powers of evil; that’s a deadly place to be; we confront human vulnerability.

            Lead us not into temptation, we pray, sed libera nos a malo. Pity and terror, O Lord.

Monday, 18 July 2016

On Visitation

‘One thing only is needful.’ I once knew a saint who died, as all saints do. He appeared to me in dreams, seated before a large book open before him on a table. He was correcting it in pencil, saying, ‘I’m editing the works of the poet here; it’s what I’ve returned to do. But I can’t be turned aside from it, because my time is limited.’
            As with Proust, who thought the world of sleep a separate room, into which we enter from daylight reality to meet another cast of characters, a different script, an altered life, I’m bemused to find the dead moving and speaking in dreams. Surely such visitations have meanings, beyond psychology?
            Do the beloved dead return, giving touches of comfort or understanding unhoped for in waking hours? Can warnings be given, answers to dilemmas, instructions, pleas? What is the one thing needful?
            Hundreds of bodies scattered across the road, in places far distant from one another, maybe. What was the one thing needful? From what must one not be turned aside? Where are the words of the poet, what are we here to do? We are not saints, but sinners, and our time is limited.

Monday, 4 July 2016

On Election

We struggle to elect a group of deeply flawed individuals to Parliament, whether of Left or Right: the Right can hardly come by a Leader definite enough to protect from the bath of anxieties wherein their followers float, while the Left may peer through windows of rosy glassiness distorting a landscape littered with dismaying realities. Do we get the politicians we deserve?
            In antiquity, you got the rulers you got. Mad Roman Emperors, corrupt hegemons, warlords, demagogues, ethnic strongmen, ruthless religions, relentless kings, unquiet queens. The word ‘demagogue’ comes from the ancient past, the original democracy.
            Preachers of ethnic election, universalism, internationalism or the narrowest aspirational nationalism: we’re not ruling you, we’re representing you. Many feel misrepresented, unrepresented or overrepresented, with consequent divisions, confusions, compulsions, implosions. The deeply corrupting influence of money lies over most historical events.
            That most idealistic form of governance, the Kingdom of God, was hijacked by the Roman state in the fourth century and has never been the same. It was a time not unlike the present, with massive changes in boundaries, nations, economies, and naturally, rulers. All the nations of the world were shown to Jesus at his Temptation: ‘To you I will give all their glory and all this authority,’ promised the devil, ‘if you will worship me.’ The deal is still the same.

Friday, 24 June 2016

On Change.

Change for the better, change for the worse, change for the sake of change. All worldly enterprises are immersed in suffering, say the Buddhists: change, good, bad or indifferent, is suffering. The cause of suffering is also desire, aka greed, even desire for suffering to end.
            How many great historical changes have I seen? Looking back on my years as a history text I see major disruptions, wars, famines, genocides, massive alterations in political maps. Going over the map of Europe from the Roman Empire to the present is like viewing a flickering lantern show, borders floating forward and back across a screen. Walls, such as Hadrian’s Wall, have been built. Walls, like the Berlin Wall, have been destroyed.
            In Rome lies Monte Testaccio, a huge hill of broken pottery, a record of ancient taxes in kind. Money and markets change greatly. Inspired adventures, collapsed economies, magnificent empires, crumbled civilisations: all change. Seeking The Golden Age anywhere in the past ignores the truth of change. 
            Heaven and earth indeed will change, says the Psalmist. They wear out, they are changed like clothing: ‘Thou shalt change them like vesture, and they shall be changed.’ God alone is unchanging. Always only God.

Tuesday, 14 June 2016


Composer Benjamin Britten never used the word ‘gay’ of himself, because, he said, it’s not a gay position to be in. For most of his life his relationship with Peter Pears was illegal; he wore insults continually; he was aware of shadows of ruin, blackmail, murder, suicide. Not so gay.
            ‘Preserve me from the violent man,’ says the Psalmist of the Jews. The murder of fifty individuals at the gay nightclub Pulse — their individual deaths — is part of the history of terrorism not least by violent religion’s ability to cloak crimes, and indeed the dregs of religion, both Christian and Muslim, have rejoiced. And America’s infamous availability of military weapons to the unstable is the direct cause. But those who died at Pulse were murdered because they were there, in that specific, gay place, within a straight culture drenched in intolerance and self-congratulation.
            The Psalmist sees the wicked, bending the bow, arrow on string, ready to shoot. ‘Deliver me, O God, out of the hand of the wicked.’ The Psalms never mince words. The wicked are the wicked; the violent man is to be feared.
            Good heart may be taken in the outpouring of grief across the globe, Tel Aviv’s rainbow lights of solidarity, the Muslim Mayor of London in vigil, displays of lights, prayers, ribbons, memes, blogs. Inconceivable in Benjamin Britten’s time.
            It’s not over. Culture is us. I want an apology from hierophants and churches. At the highest level. Lord, let me live so long to see it.

Monday, 6 June 2016

On Justice

Justice is the virtue willing to give to others what belongs to them. Where a Stanford student was convicted of three felony counts of sexual assault upon a stranger, the issue isn’t the judge’s sentence (punishment) but the victim’s plea for justice, in a statement read by millions.
What was taken from the victim has three parts: her good name, her bodily integrity, her spiritual and mental wholeness and peace. The moral instability of her attacker compounds with that of his father, who complained his son took only 20 minutes to accomplish the crime, and so shouldn’t suffer. This speaks of a society devoid of justice.
How to restore good name and reputation? Confession clarifies responsibility: someone who admits wrongdoing takes to himself what belongs to him, instead of passing it on to his victim.
Loss of bodily integrity requires purification. In the case of murder, for example, purification is part of the meaning of the funeral. What’s the purification ritual for violated women?
Repentance leads to salvation. Spiritual healing requires it; the victim must observe it. ‘We indeed have been condemned justly,’ says the thief in Luke, ‘but this man has done nothing wrong.’ Repentance is differs from remorse displayed to convince a judge. Repentance stands before God and declares who and what I am.
A prison sentence is merely the currency by which a society measures value. Women are valued less here than elite men, surely. But spiritual harm is lasting. Confession, purification, repentance: a trinity.