There are no Other People

I’m a fan of much of Neil Gaiman’s work–for those of you not familiar with him, you could call him a science-fiction/fantasy/horror author/screenwriter/graphic novelist, if you don’t mind pigeonholing him too much–and have been ever since Neverwhere. His view of the world is very different from mine, but he’s a perceptive and thoughtful observer, a creative and powerful storyteller, and a gifted writer.

Anyway, it turns out Gaiman has a connection to the mass murder at Virginia Tech, which he noted in his blog last week, from which he drew one profoundly true and important point: “There are no Other People. It’s just us.”

Or, as the great poet/preacher John Donne put it in one of his sermons, “Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

What a week; what a world

This has been a week about violence and death. I believe it was D. L. Moody who declared that the world has never seen what God can do with one man wholly devoted to him; on Monday, we saw something rather more familiar–what the devil can do with one man who has given himself over to evil. Among the victims lie at least one hero, Dr. Liviu Lebrescu, and a good many people who were determined to do their part to make the world a better place. Most, I’m sure, imagined they had plenty of time to do so; and now, by the evil will of one cowardly human being, they have no more time. I appreciate those who have had something worthwhile to say about this; I particularly appreciate Blest with sons‘ call to us to appreciate the sheepdogs among us; for my part, all I’ve been able to do is say the Kyrie, over and over. Lord, have mercy upon us . . .

But he does. For all our evil, for all we do to mar the good he gives us, he shows us mercy, over and over; as broken and rebellious as we are, he loves us anyway. As obscene a thing as the VT massacre was–somehow worse, at least to me, for coming so close after Easter–yet death does not have the last word. God blesses us despite ourselves, and sometimes even despite our wishes.

In light of that, though I’m not drawing any parallels here, it seemed symbolic to me that two days later, the Supreme Court handed down a decision (Gonzales v. Carhart) upholding the federal Partial Birth Abortion Act. It was a much more limited decision than many (especially on the left) would have you believe–as Hadley Arkes expected, it upheld the law only against a facial challenge, with no repudiation of Roe v. Wade, leaving the door wide open for further challenges to the law as it’s actually applied–but as limited as it is, it is still a significant moment. As Joseph Bottum points out, this appears to mean that abortion law no longer enjoys special, protected status–the door is open to treat abortion legislation in the same way as legislation in other areas. Ultimately, we cannot know whether this step will lead to another step in the same direction or will prove but a momentary turn–barring another change in the Court’s membership, it will depend on Anthony Kennedy, who defies certain prediction–but as Fr. Richard John Neuhaus says, there is at least some reason for hope.

And if that comes through, if abortion on demand is no longer the law of the land by judicial fiat, then perhaps we can begin to build some sort of constructive consensus, along the lines Chicago Sun-Times columnist Neil Steinberg suggested a few years ago; even then, it would be a long way to legal recognition of the human rights of the unborn, but perhaps at least we can arrive at a general understanding that abortion is not a good choice, that there ought to be and are better choices, and that we all together need to do everything we can to make them available to and viable for women in need.

Hymn for Easter Sunday

–posted on Easter Monday, of course, as I was busy yesterday.

Christ the Lord Is Risen TodayChrist the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Dying once he all doth save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids Him rise, Alleluia!
Christ has opened Paradise, Alleluia!Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!Words: Charles Wesley
Music: from
Lyra Davidica, London, 1708
EASTER HYMN, 7.7.7.7. with Alleluias

Hymn for Good Friday

I did think of more modern songs for this day, but the one that really came to mind (“The Killing,” by The Violet Burning) depends as much on the music as on the lyrics; and in the end, what else for Good Friday but the other greatest hymn ever written? (The first being “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” of course.)

O Sacred Head, Now Wounded O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns Thine only crown:
How pale Thou art with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn;
How does that visage languish,
Which once was bright as morn!What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior;
‘Tis I deserve Thy place.
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee.Words: Paul Gerhardt, based on a Medieval Latin poem ascribed to Bernard of Clairvaux; translated by James W. Alexander
Music: Hans Leo Hassler; harmonized by Johann Sebastian Bach
PASSION CHORALE, 7.6.7.6.D

“In my end is my beginning. . . .”

The dripping blood our only drink,
The bloody flesh our only food:
In spite of which we like to think
That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood–
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

–T. S. Eliot, from Four Quartets, “East Coker,” IV.

Song for Maundy Thursday

Come to the TableCome to the table and savor the sight,
The wine and the bread that was broken.
And all have been welcomed to come if they might,
And accept as their own these two tokens.
The bread is His body, the wine is the blood,
And the One who provides them is true.
He freely offers, we freely receive;
To accept and believe Him is all we must do.Come to the table
And taste of the glory,
And savor the sorrow—
He’s dying tomorrow;
The hand that is breaking the bread
Soon will be broken.
And here at the table
Sit those who have loved Him;
One is a traitor and one will deny,
Though he’s lived his life for them all
And for all be crucified.
Come to the table:
He’s prepared for you
The bread of forgiveness, the wine of release.
Come to the table and sit down beside him;
The Savior wants you to join in the feast.
Come to the table and see in His eyes
The love that the Father has spoken,
And know you are welcome whatever your crime,
Though every commandment you’ve broken.
For He’s come to love you and not to condemn,
And He offers a pardon of peace.
If you’ll come to the table, you’ll feel in your heart
The greatest forgiveness, the greatest release.ChorusWords and music: Michael Card
© 1984 Whole Armour Publishing
From the album
Known By the Scars, by Michael Card

Hymn for Palm Sunday (late)

It’s been a crazy couple weeks. But this is an ancient and honorable hymn, and shouldn’t be neglected just because I’m behind.

All Glory, Laud and Honor
All glory, laud and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring:
Thou art the king of Israel, Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s name comest, the King and blessed One!The company of angels are praising Thee on high,
And mortal men and all things created make reply:
The people of the Hebrews with palms before Thee went;
Our praise and prayer and anthems before Thee we present.To Thee, before Thy passion, they sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted, our melody we raise:
Thou didst accept their praises–Accept the praise we bring,
Who in all good delightest, Thou good and gracious King!Words: Theodulph of Orléans, translated by John M. Neale
Music: Melchior Teschner
ST. THEODULPH, 7.6.7.6.D

Presumption, my dear sir; pure presumption

It’s one of the interesting (and annoying) things about scientists these days—well, to be precise, about the high-profile ones who write heavily-publicized books attacking Christianity—that they refuse to hear of anyone without a Ph.D. in science writing anything at all bearing in any way on science, and treat anyone who tries with utter contempt, but don’t hesitate to wade into the fields of the humanities, of which they know nothing at all, with the serene assurance that since they’re scientists, they must be experts here, too. Watching the likes of Richard Dawkins and Steven Weinberg dress up as philosophers, theologians and historians would be hysterically funny were it not so embarrassingly cringe-inducing, at least for those who actually know something about practicing the disciplines of philosophy, theology and history; it’s amateur hour to the nth power, rather as if someone stepped out of America’s Funniest Home Videos and into the finals of American Idol. Watching the noted philosopher Alvin Plantinga dismantle Dawkins’ book The God Delusion, however, is a very different experience, one in which Dawkins’ work plays the role of carrot to Plantinga’s Cuisinart; for his part, Weinberg’s smug, self-satisfied theory of historical development doesn’t fare much better against Barton Swaim.

I’ll concede, it would be unreasonable to expect these folks to stop trying to refute Christianity; but I would appreciate it if they would at least set aside their disciplinary arrogance and treat the humanities with the same academic respect they demand for the sciences.

Edit: as noted in the comments, including Daniel Dennett with Dawkins and Weinberg was inappropriate in more than one respect; he has therefore been removed. Mea culpa; mea maxima culpa. That said, I would still appreciate it if he would “treat the humanities with the same academic respect [he] demands for the sciences,” even if he’s formally a philosopher himself, as he treats even his own ostensible discipline with public disdain.

Song for St. Patrick’s Day

According to Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, in New York City, Lenten disciplines are suspended by special dispensation on St. Patrick’s Day; so I thought I’d put a song up in honor of that great (and much-misappreciated) saint. He probably didn’t write the caim (encircling prayer) that’s often called “St. Patrick’s Breastplate,” but I don’t know that it matters much–I expect he would have approved. This is the Kuno Meyer translation, which has its own title.

The Deer’s Cry
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth with His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of Doom.I arise today
Through the strength of the love of the Cherubim,
In the obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In the hope of the resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In prediction of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak to me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in a multitude.I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts body and soul.Christ to shield me today
Against poisoning, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding
So there come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye of everyone who sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

Lenten Song of the Week

Back to the hymns this week, and specifically to one of the greatest ever written, by one of the greatest hymnwriters ever. You might not know that Watts wrote five verses to this song, not four; the fourth verse was dropped during the period of the Wesleyan revival, and pretty much stayed buried.

When I Survey the Wondrous CrossWhen I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the cross of Christ, my God;
All the vain things that charm me most—
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o’er his body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all. Words: Isaac Watts
Music based on a Gregorian chant, standard arr. Lowell Mason
HAMBURG, LM