On Symbols

Sacred days, dates, games; gestures, as standing (for honour), kneeling (for reverence); objects, perhaps flags, (as rainbow, Aboriginal, national); music, (as songs, anthems, carols): these are symbols, inspiration or tragedy. Prayers in schools. Anything that happens in schools. (Teaching as archetype). A wine glass held over the water glass: King over the water.

 One or two persons with a bucket of paint can get through a lot of trouble in one night, rejecting the lives of millions given to lay to rest the meaning of Swastika (‘pure Aryan masculinity’) in the last century. Whether troubled and troubling souls or real-life agitators, they forget its ancient meaning of luck and spirituality. All the examples I’ve given are in the news today, sites of confrontation and conflict (except the Jacobites, whose time has passed).    

Symbols have two parts, bringing together visible and invisible, material and image. The risk is in the hidden world. What’s actually meant here? Whose ideal is manifested? The symbol of wine and water, at its deepest level, is the only one that counts. More divine than a game, a song, even a king, even a prayer.

What are you seeing? Be aware of the invisible values.

On Charity aka Love

Love, like friendship, seeks the good of a friend. For Aristotle, friends seek the good in one another. Charity, says Aquinas, is the friendship of man towards God, and such love is reciprocal. How did Charity, the supreme virtue, become so poisoned?

            Unlike exclusive loves, divine charity includes our fellows. All persons, neighbours, are subjects of God’s charity. How, then, did we come up with statements like ‘I love my gay friends, but…’ or ‘I love my black friends, but…’ or ‘I love my Muslim friends, but…’? And these friends are always many.

            Conditional love is judgement. I myself have been told, ‘We don’t approve of you; it doesn’t mean we don’t like you.’ Approval and disapproval are judgements. Of course you don’t like me. I feel your coldness.

            Conditional love for a child is disabling. A child who is never good enough. If only a child was different. Such love denies God’s generosity. Think of what you’ve been given in this child, faults and all. The appropriate response is gratitude.

            Think of what you’ve been given in this neighbour. This gay, black, or Muslim, disapproved of neighbour. Seek the good, earthly good, for your friend.

On Hope

Hope is the last thing in the box. When all misfortunes are released, hope remains. Whether this was irony of the Greeks, or inspiration, is ambiguous. Yet hope is even a virtue: desire and expectation that good will arise. I wonder, though, if expectation is quite the word.

            We may hope the Earth remains when the nations have raged furiously together; that preservation of heath may become a masterpiece, an art form; that love and beauty shine out when ugliness and hate dissolve. Are these results we expect?

            Hope against hope, or beyond hope, suggests the uneasy relationship between desire and expectation. The Paul of Romans first finds belief in hope a virtue: belief in what you hope for. Without hope, which of the other virtues would follow? Hope in justice, hope lending courage, hope restraining excess and promoting wisdom: indeed, hope as wisdom under pressure.

            That thing looked for is the province of hope; it’s strongest in danger, for the comfortable complacent mind desires without need of hope. As a theological virtue, hope of eternity, divinity, confidence in salvation is given: despair is not advised. Yet all may practice hope: it’s the strength of ordinary sinners, in all circumstances