Leisurely digging for saints

As the always helpful Norwegian government will start collecting 25% sales tax on e-books from abroad starting July 1st, I have stocked up liberally from my own recommendation list. One such book, that I just opened today, is called "Holiness is always in season" by a certain Benedict XVI.

The main appeal however is that it supposedly presents a generous heaping of certified saints, an area that I have formerly explored only haphazardly. This brings to mind a reflection by my old friend Al Schroeder: In days of yore, people studied hagiology, while these days we study criminology. He did not see that as an improvement, and neither do I.

In the introduction are these encouraging words: "If we were more familiar with the saints, we too might become more faithful, more loving, more Christian." Wouldn't that be nice. I assume however that they did not have that effect on everyone who was exposed to them, considering the large proportion of them who were brutally killed.

Still, I like the idea that the Light is somehow becoming... if not amplified, then at least made more accessible, by its passing through certain people. I have experienced this even with the living, but I am still no closer to knowing what qualifies one person to mediate light or grace for a specific other person. Still, it seems worth a look.

Young people these days

A recent Norwegian study of middle school students shows that compared to 1992, they show more discipline, quarrel less with teachers, have less truancy and are happier at school. They are also closer to their parents, says Tormod Øia at the NOVA institute.

Uhm, I wonder if that last part is not the explanation for the first... I have noticed that fathers in particular spend more time with their children than a generation ago.

Days of reluxation

I bought another Kindle book by Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, this one called The Candle of God. It seems to be a collection of essays or some such, spanning a few different topics. I thoroughly enjoyed his book The Thirteen-petalled Rose, which was more of a unified work, but I don't expect that to stop me. I am at chapter 2 and already enjoying it greatly. As in palpably missing the physical ability to whine like a slightly underage teen fangirl. There are some phrases there that I just read, then stop, then read again several times, not willing to read on for a while because that would mean having to let them out of my sight.

I don't really think any random raccoon would have the same experience with the same book, though you never know. It may be another book that makes you go wheee in the night.

There is some exclusively Jewish stuff, of course. And then some, given that the Rabbi is a kabbalist. But he is not sneaky about it, so it bothers me not.

About the Sabbath, the Rabbi writes: "The essence of Shabbat is really a trickle, an infiltration, of the next world into this world. It is a percolation and diffusion of an existing Divine Reality." So now I better understand the Gag: "Relux and call it a Diety." It is not merely a day of relaxation, as common people have thought, but a day of reluxation, to draw the Divine Light into the soul of man which is the Candle (or lamp) of God.

Literature like this is actually a kind of reluxation in itself, at least the books that happen to find us home, wherever that may for each of us.

Who the hell would do that?

After reading recent entries about Dante's Divine Comedy over at One Cosmos, I became ashamed of never having read one of the most influential works in western literature, so I downloaded it to my mobile phone's Kindle reader. I may have made a mistake in picking a poetic translation for my first read through, as it is rather old-fashioned and I am not a native English speaker. But I am pretty sure I understand almost everything and misunderstand nothing, at least linguistically. The deeper meaning may be another matter.

The other day I came to the part where Dante accuses romance novels of leading people in perdition. As proof, his literary self interviews an otherwise nice couple who were reading a Camelot novel together and, as the novel neared its climax, they fell into the same mood and ended up in the Hell of Lust together.

My immediate reaction on reading this: "Who the hell would read a romance novel alone together if they did not already plan to do the deed?"

But this, of course, is just one example. The truth is that very often, it requires careful planning to fail properly. Or in other words, picking the wrong battle ground and sticking to it is half the lost battle. Or three quarters, more likely. A kind of perverse patience may even be required, as in the above example, "Ofttimes by that reading our eyes were drawn together, and the hue fled for our alter'd cheek." Ofttimes, huh? Each of which times would cause another person to go "What the Hell are we doing??" and hastily arrange for some diversion. It requires perseverance to sin properly. But it is definitely doable. I can tell that by experience, albeit not such a romantic experience as that.

The thing is, this does not apply to lust alone, of course. The habitually angry will seek out sources of anger like a hungry looking for food, and the fearful will seek out what scares them, and the cynical that which confirms their low opinion of others. It is hard to explain modern news media in any other way. Who in their right mind would spend large portions of the day following that litany of ill, if their mind was filled with Light?

And so on. The voice in your heart knows better than I what applies to each.

"Parasites on the holy"

I've been reading a bit in Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz' Thirteen Petalled Rose, a surprisingly approachable book. (At least after having rammed my head against the walls of Schuon and Aurobindo repeatedly...) Some things, I can see, are not right for me. But other things seem quite helpful. Anyway, I came across a drive-by mention in his chapter on holiness, that there exist entities that are parasites on the holy.*

At this point, of course, my thoughts went to One Cosmos Under God (another fairly easy read), where Robert Godwin uses the phrase "mind parasites" to describe the unhelpful complexes that plague our species. Given that Rabbi Steinsaltz considers the human being a line or ray that stretches all the way from the Holy One to the material plane and beyond, or that humans are said to be in the image of God, it makes perfect sense to have parasitic entities swarming us. This is not a purely religious observation: The very fact that we have creativity and imagination is what makes it possible for us to also play host to all kinds of weirdness.

(* Steinsaltz believes that approaching holy places or times without proper preparation, or at the very least proper attitude, may be worse than nothing. The New Testament expresses a similar view in regards to the Eucharist, to the point where indifference to its spiritual nature may even be life-threatening. In light of this we may surmise that Jesus' warning to not give dogs what is holy is also an expression of concern for the dogs. On the Internet, nobody can see that you are a dog, so take care.)

A long canvas to bleach

That is a common expression here in Norway, or at least it used to be, back when patience still was considered a virtue. It means a project that takes an inordinate amount of time. (Bleaching canvas was presumably a familiar drudgery back in the age of sails.)

Analects of Confusius, Book 2.

The Master said, "At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning.

"At thirty, I stood firm.

"At forty, I had no doubts.

"At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven.

"At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth.

"At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right."

Confusius died at the age of 74 according to one history book (or 71-72 according to Wikipedia). Was it worth it? I think so.

When someone is transformed into his highest aspiration, something is created that transcends time. That's what I mean when I say, you have to open the present to open the future and the past. The only way to make our past better is by making progress in the "reception of truth", so that the things that made no sense begin to make sense.

I hope to also live to an age where I can follow what my heart desires, in every way, without transgressing. But in any case, whenever our journey comes to its end, I believe we will not regret a single step of it. We may however regret the steps we did not take. In fact, I do that pretty much each night.

"There is plenty of love"

This morning as I was slowly waking up, I was lamenting the lack of love in the world and particularly in my contribution to the world. At least, I said to myself, I have heard of God. Where would an atheist get love from? There are limits to how much love you can make, after all.

"There is plenty of love" said the voice in my heart. "Everyone has lots of it. But much of it is misguided: You love your own desires, or attachments, rather than other people. The old classics like lust and gluttony, sure, but in this age people particularly love status, or respect. If they worked as tirelessly for others as they now work to be recognized, respected and looked up to, the world would be overflowing with love. Just like everyone has got a certain number of hours a day, so each has got a certain amount of love, but it too can be wasted on yourself."

There is more to this, like, once your love runs in the right direction, its quality can still be improved. But this is a start, to recognize that everyone loves, but to a large degree we love "in the wrong direction", toward ourselves rather than toward others.