TO AN OLD TEAPOT
— Fay Inchfawn

Now from the dust of half-forgotten things,
You rise to haunt me at the year’s Spring- cleaning,
And bring to memory dim imaginings
Of mystic meaning.

No old-time potter handled you, I ween,
Nor yet were you of gold or silver molten;
No Derby stamp, nor Worcester, can be seen,
Nor Royal Doulton.

You never stood to grace the princely board
Of monarchs in some Oriental palace.
Your lid is chipped, your chubby side is scored
As if in malice. (more…)

ANTONY C. BLACK at Unz Review has written a review of Nick Kollerstom's book: The Holocaust: Myth and Reality. Black's review is a good summary of the book and the issues involved.  

I WAS listening to Easter music on the radio while making dinner on Sunday when the programming was interrupted for a sermon by an Anglican minister. Her name was Judy or Elizabeth, I can't recall which. There was nothing particularly offensive about the text of her Easter message, but I wondered who was making Easter dinner at Canon Judy's house. Jesus chose only men for His Apostles for a reason. St. Paul enjoined against women preaching for a reason. We know that their momentous decisions had to do with hierarchy and social order. We know women have other things to do. There was a reason women were the first to learn of the Resurrection. They were favored by God -- men have said --  because of their ardent love. The Holy Women went to the tomb on Easter morning to dress the body of Jesus, a perfectly feminine way of expressing the depth of their devotion. It was for women to repair the damage done by Eve when they found the tomb empty. Women are not needed at pulpits or on altars. The fact that they dominate churches is one sign that we live in a wilderness without true altars. Mary Magdalene retired to a cave for the rest of her life after the events of the Resurrection. There, she contemplated the great mysteries she had witnessed. In the stillness, her love only grew.  

"FOR regular people, good architecture is about beauty. For contemporary architects, good architecture is an intellectual game." --- Architects Against Humanity  

"SIMON PETER, when he heard that it was the Lord, girt his coat about him (for he was naked) and cast himself into the sea. But the other disciples came in the ship (for they were not far from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits) dragging the net with fishes." Paintings of the scene on the shores of the Lake of Galilee. The blog Ad Imaginem Dei features artworks depicting this scene: The setting on the shore of the great lake, the misty morning light, the catch, the recognition of the Risen One, the sharing of bread and fish, recalling both the miraculous feeding of the multitudes and the Last Supper combine to create the mysterious reality of this apparition. Ghosts may appear, but they don’t cook and share meals with their friends. It is surprising, then, that these verses have not inspired more works of art. One of the aspects of this passage, which may have caused difficulties for artists and their advisors is how to distinguish this scene from other, very similar, scenes, i.e., the miraculous draught of fish associated with the calling of the apostles or the scene in which Peter leaves the boat and attempts to walk on water.  The differences between these scenes and that of the post-Resurrection encounter described by John are sometimes subtle. Among the elements that hint at the post-Resurrection scene are:  Jesus stands on the shore, not on the water,…

ALAN writes:

My mother took this color slide on Easter Sunday in 1965.  It shows our good friend Lynn and her children Lori and Mark.  I wrote about them four years ago (“Remembering a ‘60s Housewife”, The Thinking Housewife, Sept. 4, 2018).

They are standing here in the back yard of the four-family flat on Dewey Avenue where all of us lived that year, in a residential area of south St. Louis.  We met them in 1963 and remained friends for ten years.

It was along the walkway in this picture (lower right) that I walked at the noon hour on schooldays in 1962-64, through the yard, up on the porch, and then into our kitchen where my grandfather had a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup ready for me.

It was in this back yard in July 1965 that we celebrated his 86th birthday.

It was in this back yard that my father and I set up our small telescope and taught ourselves to identify stars, planets, constellations, and artificial satellites.  It was here that we first viewed Jupiter and its four large moons, the ringed planet Saturn, the planet Venus, and stars like Altair, Deneb, Arcturus, Capella, and Vega.  On winter nights, we found Orion’s belt and followed it to Sirius, a scintillating beacon in the black sky.  In the hour before dawn and in my winter coat, I ventured outside to see planets in the eastern sky as the lovely melody of Bert Kaempfert’s “Red Roses for a Blue Lady” played in my head.  How well I remember the moon rising above the row of small houses on 37th Street and the challenge of viewing the brilliant red star Antares, low in the southern sky, through layers of air on summer nights.

It was here in this yard and this house that I discovered the joy of playing with uncorrupted children who were just discovering the ways and wonders of life.  Although I was terribly stupid, evidently I did something right, because Lori, at age 1½, trusted me from the day we met, as did Mark a year later.  Of course prolonged periods of peace between them alternated with occasional expressions of sibling rivalry.  And what a temper Lori had. (more…)

  "AND ON THE first day of the week, very early in the morning, they came to the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled back from the sepulchre. And going in, they found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And it came to pass, as they were astonished in their mind at this, behold, two men stood by them, in shining apparel.  And as they were afraid, and bowed down their countenance towards the ground, they said unto them: Why seek you the living with the dead? "He is not here, but is risen. Remember how he spoke unto you, when he was in Galilee, Saying: The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again. And they remembered his words. And going back from the sepulchre, they told all these things to the eleven, and to all the rest. And it was Mary Magdalen, and Joanna, and Mary of James, and the other women that were with them, who told these things to the apostles. "And these words seemed to them as idle tales; and they did not believe them." [Luke 23:1-11]

"FIRM hope in God. No matter what the trouble in which a man finds himself, he should always put trust in God's help and rely on it. There is no trouble greater than to find oneself in hell. If then Christ freed those who were in hell, any man who is a friend of God cannot but have great confidence that he too shall be freed from what-ever anxiety holds him. Wisdom forsook not the just when he was sold, but delivered him from sinners; she went down with him into the pit and in bands she left him not (Wis. x. 13-14). And since to His servants God gives a special assistance, he who serves God should have still greater confidence. He that feareth the Lord shall tremble at nothing and shall not be afraid: for he is his hope (Ecclus. xxxiv. 16). "We ought to conceive fear and to rid our selves of presumption. For although Christ suffered for sinners, and went down into hell to set them free, he did not set all sinners free, but only those who were free of mortal sin. Those who had died in mortal sin He left there. Wherefore for those who have gone down to hell in mortal sin there remains no hope of pardon. They shall be in hell as the holy Fathers are in heaven, that is for ever. -- St. Thomas Aquinas, Meditations for Lent  

NOWHERE in painting has the truth of the scourging of Jesus been accurately depicted.

Caravaggio’s painting (above) is a good example. It is a highly romantic version of what occurred. The scourging was much more brutal than typically shown. I am not a big fan of Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ, but I think it provides a fairly accurate depiction of the beating of Christ at the pillar by the Roman soldiers.

Pierre Barbet, M.D. in his book A Doctor at Calvary: The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ as Described by a Surgeon, explains that a normal person undergoing a similar scourging would have died from blood loss before reaching Calvary. In addition, Jesus was so violently beaten before the scourging that his nose was broken and his body was cut and severely bruised. It was only by a miracle that Jesus’s life was preserved until He was crucified. Here is some of what Barbet, who believed in the authenticity of the Shroud of Turin and explains why, wrote on the scourging alone:

EVERYONE punished with death as a preliminary was always scourged, whether he was to die on the cross or otherwise; by beheading (Livy) or at the stake (Josephus). Only those were exempt, according to Mommsen, who were senators, soldiers or women who had the freedom of the city.

However, in the case of beheading, the scourging was done with the rods from the bundles of the lictor: “Nudatos virgis csedunt secutique percutiunt—They strip them and beat them with rods and strike them with an axe.” (Livy.)

As we have seen, scourging was an ancient custom in Rome. It was also inflicted under Alexander and Antiochus Epiphanes and at Carthage. One keeps on coming across the formulae “proaikistheis anestaurothe—verberatos crucibus adfixit—crucifying after scourging.”

This scourging, which as we have seen was formerly inflicted on the cross, now took place in the area of the tribunal. The condemned man was bound to a column (probably with his hands above his head). As Plautus wrote: Abducite hunc intro atque astringite ad columnam fortiter—Take him inside and bind him firmly to the column” (Bacchides). (more…)

THE manufactured flu terror is over for the time being, and the war propaganda is not as fresh, so there is more time to work on mass shootings. Expect much more of this. I'm not rushing to conclusions, just suspending belief. In staged shootings, one chaotic scene with lots of screaming is always played over and over. Realistic cell phone footage -- there should be dozens of quick clips -- from real people is missing despite the fact that cell phones are everywhere and at the same time there is always someone there to film a prolonged scene calmly.  Realistic carnage is always missing. Instead, you get candy-colored wounds that your local, amateur theater group could produce. It's all so tedious. So predictable. So incredibly boring, like made-for-TV thrillers. And conservatives who worship their government never make a peep against it. They're too exalted to be lied to in this blatant way.  

"ST. Luke's Greek text is more exact: “Egeneto o hidros autou ôsei thromboi aimatos katabainontes epi tèn gèn” Now, thrombos means a clot. These clots have always presented translators with difficulty; they quite rightly say that clots cannot come out of a body. And thus they have set out to do violence to the words, because they do not understand the physiological phenomenon. Some ancient manuscripts have gone further still and have suppressed the passage, as if it was unworthy of the Divinity of Jesus. Father Lagrange, who was a most attractive exegetist, but not a doctor, translates it 'like globules of blood, running right down to the ground.' "Now, this phenomenon, which is known in the profession as hematidrosis, consists of an intense vasodilatation, of the subcutaneous capillaries.  They become extremely distended, and burst when they come into contact with the millions of sweat glands which are distributed over the whole skin. The blood mingles with the sweat, and it is this mixture which pearls over the whole surface of the body. But, once they reach the outside, the blood coagulates and the clots which are thus formed on the skin fail down on to the ground, being borne down by the profuse sweat. St. Luke thus proved himself to be a good doctor and a good observer when he wrote: 'And His sweat became as clots of blood, trickling down upon the ground.' -- Pierre Barbet, M.D., A…

"EARLY in the morning of this day, Jesus sets out for Jerusalem, leaving Mary His Mother, and the two sisters Martha and Mary Magdalene, and Lazarus, at Bethania. The Mother of sorrows trembles at seeing her Son thus expose Himself to danger, for His enemies are bent upon His destruction; but it is not death, it is triumph, that Jesus is to receive today in Jerusalem. The Messias, before being nailed to the cross, is to be proclaimed King by the people of the great city; the little children are to make her streets echo with their Hosannas to the Son of David; and this in presence of the soldiers of Rome's emperor, and of the high priests and pharisees: the first standing under the banner of their eagles; the second, dumb with rage." --- Dom Prosper Guéranger, The Liturgical Year  

THE Passion and death of Jesus Christ are the greatest events in world history. The Passion is the greatest story ever told. It is the greatest poem ever written, the greatest song ever sung, the greatest masterpiece ever painted, the most beautiful tree ever planted, its sweet blossoms continually falling to the earth. It is the cup of wine from the vineyard of Paradise. It is the furnace lit from the beginning of time. I am come to cast fire upon the earth; and what will I but that it should be kindled? All museums and libraries could be reduced to rubble, and the seeds of a great civilization would still exist in the love and suffering of the Passion. The "great awakening" has already happened. The greatest invention has occurred. The deaf will not hear. The blind will not see. But they too are part of the tale. They are the fatal kiss that made this love possible. With desire have I desired to eat this pasch with you.   

[Reposted]

ERIC R. writes:

As we approach Holy Week, I offer a Lenten listening suggestion: Francis Poulenc’s Sept Repons de Teneabrea, for orchestra, soprano and choir. Composed in 1961 and first performed at Lincoln Center in New York in 1963, it is based on the Latin texts of the Responsories for Holy Week.

Born in Paris in 1899, Poulenc led a debauched life. And judging from my cursory internet research, there does not seem to be any change in his scandalous behavior, even up until his death. He was described by a critic as “part monk, part guttersnipe.” His father was devoutly Catholic and a highly successful businessman. His success allowed Poulenc the financial independence to compose. I find this interesting. Not only in that the strong faith of a father can instill a deep seated affection for religion, but that his wealth allowed for his son to compose for us! We need fathers to instill the faith in the family, because we need the faith. And we need the wealthy, because we need art and culture. (more…)