After the Vortex
It has been such a beautiful summer. After That Horrid Winter I had sort of feared a hard and hot summer, but it has only a few times approached 90. Mostly it has been fair, in the 70s, clear, with regular showers. Skies are often blue, and white fluffy clouds are frequent, like a Michigan summer.
Sweetest summer of the twenty I have experienced in Ohio.
Ideal, especially for someone who works outside and was traumatized by the Winter of the Vortex. Granted, Spring was fleeting and summer appears to be fading early. And people are talking: rumors are afoot that the experts are predicting the Return of the Vortex.
I just say ‘La la la what a beautiful summer day’ and hope they are wrong.
Having grasped the General Principle of Fuckupedness (‘Fallenness’ in polite circles) and having understood the Total Futility of human endeavor, it occurs to me that no human project should proceed without first asking the question ‘What Could Possibly Go Wrong?’
The answer, of course, in most cases, is ‘Just About Everything.’
One can then decide if it is worth the risk.
It just may prevent the usual afterword: ‘But We Meant Well’.
But probably not.
Worlds and Dimensions
It has lately occurred to me that there is not perfect interface with the various dimensions of being. Call them orders or vibrations or wavelengths or worlds or dimensions, they do not fit so perfectly as has been imagined in the past.
In the Divine Liturgy of the Eastern churches there is a prayer for forgiveness for ‘sins committed intentionally and unintentionally’. I have often heard people ask how this can be, how one can sin without intent. The answer, of course, is that they cannot, in the sense of having guilt imputed for some evil they did not in the least intend. I have never had a hard time understanding though, in light of the beauty of God’s perfection, that we daily and innocently violate the pure ontological order.
For example, in the Book of Genesis we get hints that in perfect Edenic harmony there would be no killing. Humans were given fruit and seedbearing plants for nourishment. In this order, no living thing was killed.We cannot imagine a world that is not beholden to death, and even that world appears to be perfect, for what it is.
Later, when that perfect order was disrupted humans were allowed to kill and eat animals for food. This is ontologically imperfect, but no moral guilt is associated with eating meat, even, in the New Covenant, meat that was considered unclean in the Mosaic Law.
Similarly, any killing of another human disrupts the ontological order, even if it does not violate the moral order. Pacifists grasp the former part of this equation, and offer a very healthy dose of purity to the discussion. But there are few – though I know and love some – who would not use force, even deadly force, to defend a helpless child against an aggressor.
And much as I love my pure pacifist friends, I would not leave my children in their care.
But I have been speculating about whether this distinction between the moral order and the ontological order may not be a key for resolving a number of internal problems that have plagued the Church in recent decades.
And no, I am not going into detail here.
Maybe on my secret blog.
Which some of my friends have expressed a good deal of curiosity about.
But no one has found it. I have had one visitor in the month or so it has been up. And that was my bride, who was invited.
But yesterday I googled the title of the hidden blog, just to check it out. And guess what? The web address included the part of my email address with my first initial and my surname.
I told you I was technologically stupid.
Sneaky, sneaky me.
Fortunately the only things I have published there are some poems and memoirs, nothing too embarrassing, unless it is the poems.
I have not written poetry for twenty years and have no idea if it is any good or not. If past experience is any indication, I probably will look at it in ten years and find most of it pretty bad.
While I am glad that I did not post anything too horribly personal, even though only Michelle has read it, it occurs to me that if I ever get into the intensely introspective stuff, the humiliating things, I will just leave it as an unpublished draft for future reference.
Why I Love Francis
He loves Jesus and hates capitalism.
Painting, ‘Landscape, Burkhart Road’, by moi.