I would like to sit alongside your silence. Don’t want to disturb it. I would offer colour rather than noise. Matthew 18: 3-6. I will come back to that.
Here There Be Dragons: A fabulous-sounding piece of pseudo-history in itself; despite the idea that this phrase alongside pictorial representations of dragons was a trope common to medieval cartography, employed to indicate unknown areas of assumed danger there are, apparently, only two such examples in existence.
In popular culture, Roland Joffe used the phrase in truncated form, Here Be Dragons, for his less than successful cinema account of the early life of St Jose Maria Escriva, during the civil war in Spain. According to the publicity the film set out to examine betrayal, hatred, friendship and love as they are discovered and played out in the every day life of nation at war with itself. As I remember it, most of that stuff must have gotten left on the cutting room floor.
Which, in a way I can’t quite hold on to, leads me back to the bit from Matthew advertised above. Jesus calls over a kid, takes him up and places her in the middle of the disciples. For, as per the norm, the rural band of ragamuffins, vagabonds and outsiders who form his inner circle have put before him a question which, yet gain, demonstrates their utter lack of understanding.
‘Amen’, he says, ‘unless you are converted and become as little children you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven’.
They are not, you will note, to learn to think like little children; neither are they to imagine what it must feel like to be a little child. They are to be ‘converted’. What he wants for them is a metanoia; a repentant turning-about. An open-ness to the Father’s Grace-filled work.
He wants them to turn away from the enculturated ways of seeing and hearing and, understanding and believing and loving and fearing and desiring. He wants them to be as “little children’; not like David, so youthful proto-warrior; but those who remain, still, in a pre-gendered state within the nurturing household, learning by imitation. This ‘household’ , for Jesus, being the ‘Kingdom of God’.
Reminds me of one of my favourite quotes from Georges Bernanos, written at the end of his life:
“My life doesn’t matter. I merely wish to be faithful until the end to the child I was. For what I possess of honour, and my paltry share of courage, I inherit from the small being, so mysterious now, who ran through September rains, across flooded fields, his heart heavy with the thought of approaching school, of dismal courtyards where dark winter would bid him welcome, of stinking classrooms, of refectories with greasy breath, of interminable, ostentatious high masses where the goaded young soul knew nothing to share with God but weariness - from the child I was, who is now for me like a grandfather”.
Lovely piece, Jack. I could never articulate these things so well.
About the real estate... if people want to move away from the machine centers isn't it only a question of being willing to make less money and live in a run-down place? I think so many who "can't afford" to leave cities just mean they can't afford the same standard of living if they leave. One could certainly get a job at a gas station or small store and live cheaply in the country it seems to me. That's my two cents.
Thank you fir this post, Jack! What a fascinating story of your early encounter with your inner landscape.
I have found Jesus teaching of 'Love your enemies' to be equally, or even more important, when applied to my inner dragons as to my perceived adversaries in the world. Of course, they are intimately interconnected, as the people I come to see as 'enemies' in the outside world almost always are carrying an aspect of my own inner shadow material that remains rejected and unloved inside myself. When I pray for and love the enemy 'out there' I bring healing to the fractures in my inner psyche, and when I can be lovingly present - and even forgiving - with the dragons within my psyche, it becomes easier to love other people, no matter what they're bringing to the table.
Sep 27, 2022·edited Sep 27, 2022Liked by Jack Leahy
Thank you for your writings, thoughts and wonderings. It's been a balm and comfort as of late. Much like yourself, and others here who comment, I'm finding myself increasingly unmoored from Western (American) culture/society and have been grappling as to what to do about it (besides just reading, of course). While I am not religious—and in the past quite opposed to it (my angry atheist 20's)— I've since mellowed out and see how it can provide an anchor point and structure to those who worship, especially in a society eager to relinquish all boundaries (emotional and physical) and values. Looking forward to reading more of your journey.
Jack, I wanted to say how much I have benefited from your posting. I am a trans woman in seminary and I am very, very good at reading, talking, and writing. It is learning to live into stillness that is proving illusory. I have discovered the traditions of the desert fathers and the Irish monks and seeing how you are applying it today - and your thoughts that result - is a great encouragement. I look forward to reading more!
Hi Jack, I’m grateful for your writing. Sometimes I even somewhat reach silence and stillness, which floods me with hope. I have you (via FCF) to thank for this practice.
I was in the middle of reading this, and struggling to focus, as my kids were watching a film too loudly. I went and told them to turn it down, then came back and re-started on your essay – and only then did I realize that in telling them to turn it down, I had managed to stir up my own annoyance.
The irony! And yet it comes back to your very point; the effort to vanquish only inflames the dragon.
I would like to sit alongside your silence. Don’t want to disturb it. I would offer colour rather than noise. Matthew 18: 3-6. I will come back to that.
Here There Be Dragons: A fabulous-sounding piece of pseudo-history in itself; despite the idea that this phrase alongside pictorial representations of dragons was a trope common to medieval cartography, employed to indicate unknown areas of assumed danger there are, apparently, only two such examples in existence.
In popular culture, Roland Joffe used the phrase in truncated form, Here Be Dragons, for his less than successful cinema account of the early life of St Jose Maria Escriva, during the civil war in Spain. According to the publicity the film set out to examine betrayal, hatred, friendship and love as they are discovered and played out in the every day life of nation at war with itself. As I remember it, most of that stuff must have gotten left on the cutting room floor.
Which, in a way I can’t quite hold on to, leads me back to the bit from Matthew advertised above. Jesus calls over a kid, takes him up and places her in the middle of the disciples. For, as per the norm, the rural band of ragamuffins, vagabonds and outsiders who form his inner circle have put before him a question which, yet gain, demonstrates their utter lack of understanding.
‘Amen’, he says, ‘unless you are converted and become as little children you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven’.
They are not, you will note, to learn to think like little children; neither are they to imagine what it must feel like to be a little child. They are to be ‘converted’. What he wants for them is a metanoia; a repentant turning-about. An open-ness to the Father’s Grace-filled work.
He wants them to turn away from the enculturated ways of seeing and hearing and, understanding and believing and loving and fearing and desiring. He wants them to be as “little children’; not like David, so youthful proto-warrior; but those who remain, still, in a pre-gendered state within the nurturing household, learning by imitation. This ‘household’ , for Jesus, being the ‘Kingdom of God’.
Reminds me of one of my favourite quotes from Georges Bernanos, written at the end of his life:
“My life doesn’t matter. I merely wish to be faithful until the end to the child I was. For what I possess of honour, and my paltry share of courage, I inherit from the small being, so mysterious now, who ran through September rains, across flooded fields, his heart heavy with the thought of approaching school, of dismal courtyards where dark winter would bid him welcome, of stinking classrooms, of refectories with greasy breath, of interminable, ostentatious high masses where the goaded young soul knew nothing to share with God but weariness - from the child I was, who is now for me like a grandfather”.
Lovely piece, Jack. I could never articulate these things so well.
About the real estate... if people want to move away from the machine centers isn't it only a question of being willing to make less money and live in a run-down place? I think so many who "can't afford" to leave cities just mean they can't afford the same standard of living if they leave. One could certainly get a job at a gas station or small store and live cheaply in the country it seems to me. That's my two cents.
Clara
Thank you fir this post, Jack! What a fascinating story of your early encounter with your inner landscape.
I have found Jesus teaching of 'Love your enemies' to be equally, or even more important, when applied to my inner dragons as to my perceived adversaries in the world. Of course, they are intimately interconnected, as the people I come to see as 'enemies' in the outside world almost always are carrying an aspect of my own inner shadow material that remains rejected and unloved inside myself. When I pray for and love the enemy 'out there' I bring healing to the fractures in my inner psyche, and when I can be lovingly present - and even forgiving - with the dragons within my psyche, it becomes easier to love other people, no matter what they're bringing to the table.
Hi Jack, you may appreciate this write up on Hermits:
https://longreads.com/2022/09/08/the-substance-of-silence/
On dragons:
https://www.blueletterbible.org/lexicon/h8577/kjv/wlc/0-1/
https://www.blueletterbible.org/lexicon/g1404/kjv/tr/0-1/
And on the defeat of the great dragon: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B487M8KEkpHZdUxUcm5nZmViUkU/view?usp=sharing&resourcekey=0-7W4Mm5g9xGotc1UitYpzGA
cheers!
Thank you for your writings, thoughts and wonderings. It's been a balm and comfort as of late. Much like yourself, and others here who comment, I'm finding myself increasingly unmoored from Western (American) culture/society and have been grappling as to what to do about it (besides just reading, of course). While I am not religious—and in the past quite opposed to it (my angry atheist 20's)— I've since mellowed out and see how it can provide an anchor point and structure to those who worship, especially in a society eager to relinquish all boundaries (emotional and physical) and values. Looking forward to reading more of your journey.
Jack, I wanted to say how much I have benefited from your posting. I am a trans woman in seminary and I am very, very good at reading, talking, and writing. It is learning to live into stillness that is proving illusory. I have discovered the traditions of the desert fathers and the Irish monks and seeing how you are applying it today - and your thoughts that result - is a great encouragement. I look forward to reading more!
Hi Jack, I’m grateful for your writing. Sometimes I even somewhat reach silence and stillness, which floods me with hope. I have you (via FCF) to thank for this practice.
I was in the middle of reading this, and struggling to focus, as my kids were watching a film too loudly. I went and told them to turn it down, then came back and re-started on your essay – and only then did I realize that in telling them to turn it down, I had managed to stir up my own annoyance.
The irony! And yet it comes back to your very point; the effort to vanquish only inflames the dragon.