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wesleyhill · 1 year

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On “Things Above”

A homily on Colossians 3:1-4 preached at the Cathedral Church of the Advent, Birmingham, Alabama on the Friday after the second Sunday in Lent 2023

Yesterday I spoke to you from the third chapter of St. Paul’s letter to the Colossian Christians in which he tells them: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”

I wonder how you think about that exhortation. What exactly is Paul asking believers to do? What does it mean to have your mind focused on heavenly realities, rather than this-worldly ones? A hymn that we used to sing in the church of my childhood spoke of “the things of earth [growing] strangely dim” in heaven’s overwhelming, eclipsing light.

But has that ever really been your experience? For myself, as soon as I start trying to tear my gaze away from my house, my family, my job, my concrete experiences in this life and attempt to focus on God and heaven and eternity, I can quickly experience one of two things. The first one is sheer confusion: a kind of blank, inscrutable screen.

Cicero, the famous Roman statesman who died a half century before the birth of Christ, tells a story in his treatise On the Nature of the Gods of the tyrant Hiero who demands that the lyric poet Simonides tell him about what it means for the gods to exist. Simonides begs for a couple of days to come up with an answer. When the two days pass and Hiero asks, “Well?” Simonides responds by asking for two more days. And this keeps going until finally Simonides confesses, “The longer I think about it, the murkier the answer seems.” And Cicero, the one telling the story, concludes that the nature of the gods — who or what and how they are, if they are — is a “very obscure question.”

The Protestant Reformer John Calvin, commenting on this story from Cicero, says that as soon as we begin to try to use our imaginations or instincts to picture God, we will “hold nothing certain or solid or clear, but [will] be so attached to confused principles as to worship an unknown God.”

But this experience of a blank, gray, faceless god can easily transition into a second experience, and that is the experience of fear. Onto the gray canvas there can start to seep, Rorshach-inkblot-like, disturbing images of a God who is cruel, vindictive, mercurial, capricious. Not just God as cosmic Santa Claus but God, as C. S. Lewis said he experienced him in the wake of losing his wife to cancer, as cosmic Sadist. God as not just obscure, but terrifying. Not just as One to be baffled by, but One to flee from.

Here, I think, it’s vital to read Paul’s exhortation in context: “Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.”

Notice: Paul isn’t urging us to try to cultivate some vague, ethereal kind of heavenly mindedness. He’s directing us to think about a particular person — “Christ,” the Messiah, Jesus, the one who died and is now alive with the one he called “Father,” who will come back and heal and restore us and the whole world. It's as if Paul is saying, “When I tell you to think about heaven, I’m telling you to think about that Jewish man named Jesus, who is now alive again and always lives to intercede for you.”

Paul spells it out in more detail in the great poetic passage with which he kicks off the whole letter:

He [Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers — all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

To “set your mind on things above,” rather than on earthly things, is to think about Jesus. And not just to think about Jesus in some general way but to allow the life of Jesus to affect and shape and define the way you think about God.

This is — we need to recognize — a claim that should sound more shocking to us than it probably does. Rowan Williams reminds us:

Paul is roughly the same age as Jesus, perhaps a few years younger; and twenty or so years after Jesus’ execution, Paul is saying that this person, his contemporary, somebody who was well known to people Paul knew well, is the image of God — that in him, as he just as startlingly puts it 1 Corinthians 1.24, is the power and wisdom of God; or that — as he says in 2 Corinthians 4.4-6 — in his face shines the glory of God, what the Jews called the shekhinah, the blinding radiance of God’s presence. In Hebrew Scripture, this presence is described as radiating so powerfully that it throws people to the ground; it’s like a dense fog of light that you can’t breathe in and you can’t stand in… And that glory, that stifling intensity of presence in holy places, is what you see and sense if you look at Jesus, so Paul claims: a strong claim, to put it mildly. Imagine for a moment what a leap of imagination would be involved in thinking of someone of your own generation and background in terms like that.

There are, it seems, two directions we could go at this point. One would be to think through what it might mean to say about a first-century Jewish man, whom we Christians believe to be now alive forever, never to die again — what it might mean to say that in this one individual human person “all the fullness of deity was pleased to dwell.” That would be to ask the question of “Christology,” the Christian understanding of the person of Jesus of Nazareth as God’s Messiah.

But the other direction travels from the ground up, so to speak: What does it mean now to talk about God (to “set our minds on heavenly things”) if we say that this particular human life and death and resurrection, the existence of the man Jesus from his birth to his exaltation to the right hand of the Father in heaven, tells us the true meaning and essence of what it means to be God?

How would it change the way you think about God, the way you pray, the way you worship and seek to obey God, the way you try to put God’s commands into practice in your Christian life, if you really believed that God is knowable ultimately, finally, climactically in Jesus?

The late Reformed theologian T. F. Torrance worked as a chaplain during World War II. One day on a battlefield in Italy, a dying soldier, only twenty years old, grasped Torrance’s arm and said, “Padre, is God really like Jesus?”

Isn’t that a terribly poignant question? And isn’t it also, ultimately, the question of life? Is the God whom I’m about to meet face to face, the One who made me and will judge me and determine my ultimate fate — is that God really going to turn out to be the compassionate Father Jesus said he is and showed him to be in his healings and his pronouncements of forgiveness and his assurance of mercy? Or am I going to find some more sinister character lurking behind the curtain of Jesus’ life and ministry?

Torrance said it was the great privilege of his life to have spent the rest of his theological career spelling out the answer he gave to the dying soldier on the battlefield that day: Yes. Yes. God is like Jesus.

There is… no God behind the back of Jesus Christ, but only this God whose face we see in the face of the Lord Jesus. There is no deus absconditus, no dark inscrutable God, no arbitrary Deity of whom we can know nothing but before whom we can only tremble as our guilty conscience paints harsh streaks upon his face. No, there are no dark spots in God of which we need to be afraid… There is only the one God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ in such a way that there is perfect consistency and fidelity between what he reveals of the Father and what the Father is in his unchangeable reality… God really is like Jesus, for there is no other God than he who became man in Jesus and he whom God affirms himself to be and always will be in Jesus.

Or as Archbishop Michael Ramsey once put it much more concisely: “God is Christlike; and in God there is no unChristlikeness at all.”

Jesus is, as Paul says in Colossians, the image of the God we cannot see. He is the perfect self-interpretation of God. He is the face of God turned toward us in love.

So, friends, set your minds on things above, not on earthly things — earthly idols, false images, distorted pictures of God. Seek the things that are above, where Jesus Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.

To him be the glory, forever and ever.

Amen.

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theliterateape · 1 year

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The Wooden Door (3)

by Wayne Lerner

The Street Corner Friday, June 10, 1966 2:35 pm

The stage was set. The sidewalk sizzled under the scorching sun. The humid air made it hard to breathe. June feeling like August brought out the worst in people. Few were fortunate enough to have air conditioning. The kind of day when tempers flared and fists clenched. When grudges ached to be released so terror could commence. Gangs loved hot and humid days. It was easy to lose control when sweat drenched your body and pent-up hatred turned to fury.

Sgt. Maloney knew these kinds of days and what they could lead to

“I dunno how many more of these I can take, Ron,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked. “We’ve been training for this all last month. We know the shit’s going to hit the fan.”

“I’ve been through this so many times, it’s getting weary. When the first blacks moved into Austin, the good ole boys were not very happy, as you might expect. Every night we had to bring in CFD to put out the fires they set.”

Ron looked at Maloney long and hard. “You’ve been saying this for the 7 years we’ve been together. Do you think this one will be as bad as some have said?”

Maloney paused as he pondered the information they had received from Central command and some not-so-official sources. Grooming informers was critical to becoming a successful beat cop.

“I think this will be the big one,” he said. “The gangs are geared up for action. No more brass knuckles and blades. I heard that they have guns and not just 22’s.”

“Jesus,” exclaimed Ron. “If they have automatic guns, this will be a bloodbath. On both sides.”

“Yep,” said Maloney. “There isn’t anything we can do to stop it. They didn’t give us automatics at roll call this morning. We’re going to need help and lots of it.”

“The rumors have been flying since last week,” said Ron. “This isn’t new news.”

“What they don't understand,” said Maloney, “is that the fight is not just between the rednecks and the blacks but with the gangs from the other schools. It’s going to be fucking ugly.”

The two officers continued their beat, walking east from Central towards Laramie, continuing on to Cicero. A long walk, sweat dripping from their faces, but the business owners and residents appreciated the false sense of peace.

When they approached the drugstore, they spotted Lamar and his boys hustling toward Madison from the north. Paulie and his guys streaking from the south. Maloney grabbed Ron, both running to the corner. At the same moment, they noticed Albert and Martha crossing Lotus to go into the drug store.

“Christ! They’re going to be caught in a crossfire!” Maloney shouted to Ron. “Let’s grab them and get them in the store. Then we can take care of the others.”

The 2 gangs ran toward each other, guns drawn and loaded. Angry shouts and insults were thrown at their enemies inflaming the situation with every passing moment.

Maloney and Ron tried to put themselves between the 2 groups to head off the expected violence. Screams, shouts, shots in the air made sure that anyone on the street took cover.

Business owners locked their doors. Residents headed for home.

“Ron, see if you can get to the Paulie group,” said Maloney. “I'll try for Lamar and his guys.”

At that moment, Albert stopped walking with Martha. They recoiled at the violence about to unfold. Martha tried to hold Albert back from approaching the gangs.

Everyone stopped in their tracks when bursts of gunfire rang out from the east. Maloney and Ron looked at each other and the 2 gangs. None of them had pulled the trigger that many times.

“Look there!” Albert shouted. “Look at what's coming.”

They turned, in shock. Hundreds of young people, boys and girls, all armed, running down Madison Street.

“We’re going to make you pay for the rape! You’re all going to die. You don’ took your last breath,” they shouted.

Maloney screamed into his radio. “Madison is packed with armed kids, all coming hard down the street! Alert all units and the National Guard. We’re going to need every officer we can find.”

“The cops in the ‘burbs are mobilizing a wedge to move in from the west,” shouted Maloney to Ron. “Let’s get everyone into the store and pray the mob did not see us.”

Albert tightened his grip on Martha’s arm and turned to view the scene behind him. Chaos and confusion inflamed the melee. No matter what the police did, Lamar’s and Paulie’s gangs weren’t about to let a riot take them away from their destiny.

As if in slow motion, Albert pushed Martha into the store and proceeded across the street to where the confrontation was taking place. With every step, his gait got stronger and he stood taller. No more tap tap tap. He was ready to use his cane for a different purpose.

“You idiots,” he hollered at the 2 gangs. “Don't you see what’s happening.”

He raised his cane and pointed at the rioters streaming down Madison. “They don't care if you're white or black. They’re going to kill us all. The police can't hold them back. The National Guard won't get here in time. Stop this nonsense. NOW!”

Albert shouted with such force that the 2 gangs stopped and looked at him in wonder. Bullets began flying towards them as the screaming grew louder. Police cars steamed toward the riot from all directions, lights flashing, sirens howling. Far off near downtown, the rumble of tanks could be felt as the street vibrated from their weight.

“Now,” Albert said. “Everyone in the drugstore. And I mean everyone.”

Albert grabbed Lamar and looked him in the eye. “Tell your guys to back off and get moving.” He did the same to Paulie, standing still, paralyzed by what he saw. Albert took him by the collar and dragged him across the street as his gang followed him into the store. They slammed the old wooden door as the rioters got within a block of Lotus, guns blazing, molotov cocktails ready to fly through business and apartment windows.

Albert and Martha were in command, much to the amazement of everyone in the store. They began shouting orders. “Block the doors and put the cabinets by them. Take all flammables down from the windows and put them on the floor by the brick walls. Let’s hope the door is strong enough to hold the rioters back.

The gangs, Jimmy and Irving, went into action following the orders of Albert and Martha. They put anything heavy by the door to create a blockade. They did the same by the stairway to the basement which led to the little used back door.

As the rioters and the police faced off, the acrid smell of smoke permeated the store’s walls and windows.

“That’s my Cadillac parked on the corner, '' said Irving. “Fuck it. I didn’t like the color anyway.”

Bullets pinged off the building’s walls as they tried their best to break through the stone and the wooden door. The occupants hid behind the barricade they made, listening to barrages of shots that seemed to go on forever. Black, white, it didn’t matter. They concealed themselves. For the moment, forgetting their hate for one another. The only thing on their minds was survival.

The roar of the tanks and the squeal of the police cars’ tires surged as the battle rose to a climax. Albert and Martha remained standing in the middle of the store, watching over their minions, making sure they were safe.

Just as fast as the fight had started, it stopped. No more sounds of bullets flying or angry shouting.

“Are you ok in there?” asked Sgt. Maloney through the man-made blockade.

“Yes, we are fine,” said Martha. “No one was hurt here.”

“C’mon out,” said Ron. “It’s safe to open the door.”

As everyone in the store rose to their feet, the two gangs looked at each other and then at the two old people who had led them to safety.

“Where did you learn that?” asked Lamar with undeniable respect in his voice “That was crazy. You saved us all.”

Martha took Lamar’s hand. “This gang warfare is senseless. It will get you nowhere,” she said. Then she took Paulie’s hand. “Don’t you understand that if you beat Lamar and his boys, there will always be someone else waiting to take you on. The battle will never end.”

Albert turned to Paul and, in a quiet voice, said. “Your mother and father are hurting. They are trying to give you a better life but they can’t do that with you in jail. Get over this hate and make something out of yourself.”

Martha looked at Lamar. “You’re supposed to make your mother proud. You’re the oldest. You have a responsibility to your family. Figure out how you can achieve that.”

“How do you know such things?” said Lamar. Paulie nodded his head in amazement.

“You think we are just two old people standing on the corner,” said Martha. “People tell us their stories when they walk by. They know we are good listeners and won’t tell their secrets.”

Everyone stood still to consider what they lived through and what they heard from Albert and Martha.

Albert broke the silence. “C’mon, Martha, let’s go. These two are just hard heads.”

“What do you know about us?” said Paulie. “You look like you have everything you want.”

Martha took a step towards the two gangs. “Where we come from, we were niepożądani ludzie. What the Nazis called ‘undesirables.’ Martha tapped her chest. “We know what it means to have little and be treated like dirt. We made something of ourselves. Now, you need to do the same.”

Albert took Martha’s hand and moved toward the front of the store. “We’ve said enough. They have to take the first step, not us. I hope they listened to you.”

Albert grabbed the old wooden door. It opened with its usual squeal. “Ach,” he said. “Czy w koncu mozesz te drzwi naprawić?”

“What did he say?” asked Lamar.

Martha smiled. “Albert said, ‘Now will you get this damn door fixed?’” as the door slammed shut behind her.

#fiction

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aboutanancientenquiry · 2 years

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The problem of universal timeline in history: from Herodotus to al-Biruni

“The Invention of World History

For most of history, different peoples, cultures and religious groups have lived according to their own calendars. Then, in the 11th century, a Persian scholar attempted to create a single, universal timeline for all humanity.

S.Frederick Starr| Published 13 Nov 2018

The baptism of Christ, from The Chronology of Ancient Nations, 1307. (Edinburgh University Library/Bridgeman Images)

Today, it is taken for granted that ‘World History’ exists. Muslims, Jews and Chinese each have their own calendars and celebrate their own New Year’s Day. But for most practical matters, including government, commerce and science, the world employs a single common calendar. Thanks to this, it is possible to readily translate dates from the Chinese calendar, or from the Roman, Greek or Mayan, into the same chronological system that underlies the histories of, say, Vietnam or Australia.

This single global calendar enables us to place events everywhere on a single timeline. Without it, temporal comparisons across cultures and traditions would be impossible. It is no exaggeration to say that this common understanding of time and our common calendar system are the keys to world history.

It was not always the case. Most countries, cultures or religious groups have lived according to their own calendars. Each designated its own starting point for historical time, be it the Creation, Adam and Eve or some later event, such as the biblical Flood. Even when they acknowledged a common point in time, as did both Greeks and Persians with the birth of Alexander the Great, they differed about when that event took place.

The ancient Greeks pioneered the systematic study of history and, even today, Herodotus (c.484-425 BC) stands out for his omnivorous curiosity about other peoples and cultures. Throughout his Histories he regales his readers with exotica gleaned from his extensive travels and enquiries. He explains how each culture preserves and protects its own history. He reports admiringly on how the Egyptians maintained lists of their kings dating back 341 generations. His implication is that all customs and traditions are relative. Yet for two reasons the broad-minded Herodotus, whom Cicero called ‘the Father of History’, stopped short of asking how one might coordinate or integrate the Egyptian and Greek systems of time and history, or those of any other peoples.

A map of the world illustrating a 14th-century manuscript of al-Biruni's 'Elements of Astrology'.

For all his interest in diverse peoples and cultures, Herodotus wrote for a Greek audience. The structure of his Histories allowed ample space for digressions that would inform or amuse his readers, but differing concepts of time were not among them. Herodotus and other Greeks of the Classical age were curious about the larger world, but ultimately their subject was Greece and they remained content to view the world through their own calendar. The same could be said for the other peoples of the ancient world. Each was so immersed in the particularities of its own culture that it would never have occurred to them to enquire into how other peoples might view historical time. Herodotus had come closer to perceiving the need for a world history than anyone before him.

Other ancient thinkers came as far as Herodotus, but no further. The Roman historian Polybius (200-118 BC) penned what he called a Universal History, embracing much of the Middle East, but he passed over differing concepts of history and time. Instead he shoehorned all dates into the four-year units of the Olympiads. This made his dates intelligible to Romans and Greeks but unintelligible to everyone else. Similarly, the Jewish historian Josephus (AD 37-100) took as his subject the interaction of Jews and Romans, two peoples with markedly different understandings of time. Having himself defected to the Roman side, he employed Roman chronology throughout his The Jewish War and Antiquities of the Jews and felt no need to correlate that system with the calendar of the Jews.

This, then, was the situation in the year 1000, when a largely unknown Central Asian scholar from Kath in the far west of modern Uzbekistan confronted the problem of history and time. Abu Rayhan Muhammad al-Biruni (973-1039) was an unlikely figure to take up so abstruse a task. Just 29 years old, he had written half a dozen papers on astronomy and geodesics. He was also involved in a vitriolic exchange in Bukhara with the young Ibn Sina, who later gained fame for his Canon of Medicine. But Biruni was a stranger to history and had never studied the many foreign cultures that had developed their own systems of time. Worse, he had lost several years fleeing a wave of civil unrest that swept the region. Fortunately for him, an exiled ruler from Gorgan near the Caspian Sea had been able to reclaim his throne and invited the promising young scientist to come and adorn his court. When that ruler, Qabus, asked Biruni to provide an explanation ‘regarding the eras used by different nations, and regarding the differences of their roots, i.e., … of the months and years on which they are based’, Biruni was not in a position to say no.

Biruni soon amassed religious and historical texts of the ancient Egyptians, Persians, Greeks and Romans and then gathered information on Muslims, Christians and Jews. His account of the Jewish calendar and festivals anticipated those of the Jewish philosopher Maimonides by more than a century. He also assembled evidence on the measurement of time and history from lesser-known peoples and sects from Central Asia, including his own Khwarazmians, a Persianate people with its own calendar system. In his research he called on his knowledge of languages, including Persian, Arabic and Hebrew, as well as his native Khwarazmian. For others he relied on translations or native informants.

In a decision that made his book as inaccessible to the general reader as it is valuable to specialists, Biruni included an overwhelming mass of detail on all known histories and calendar systems. The only ones excluded were those of India and China, about which he confessed he lacked sufficient written data. So thorough was Biruni that his Chronology of Ancient Peoples remains the sole source for much invaluable data on peoples as diverse as pre-Muslim Arabs, followers of various ‘false prophets’ and even Persians and Jews.

Biruni could have made it easier for his reader had he presented everything from just one perspective: his own. But this was not his way. Unlike Herodotus, who in the end adhered to a Greek perspective, or Persian writers who applied their own cultural measure to everyone else, Biruni began with the assumption that all cultures were equal. A relativist’s relativist, he surpassed all who preceded him in the breadth of his perspective. Who but Biruni would make a point of telling readers that he interviewed heretics?

It is not surprising, given his background. Khwarezm today is all but unknown. Yet 1,000 years ago it was a land of irrigated oases and thriving cities, which had grown rich on direct trade with India, the Middle East and China. Biruni’s home town of Kath was populated by Muslims, Zoroastrians, Christians and Jews, as well as traders from every part of Eurasia, including Hindus from the Indus Valley. It is unlikely that any part of the Eurasian land mass at the time spawned more people who accepted pluralism as a fact than Central Asia in general and Khwarezm in particular.

Had Biruni made only this affirmation, it is doubtful we would remember his Chronology today. But he did not and for an important reason. Qabus had made clear that he wanted a single, simple system of time, so that henceforth he would not have to consult multiple books. He also wanted one that could be applied to business and commerce, as well as national history and lore. For his part, Biruni was glad to acknowledge that different peoples view time differently, but he insisted that there exists an objective basis for evaluating each system, namely the precise duration of a day, month and year as measured by science. An astronomer and mathematician, Biruni meticulously presented the best scientific evidence on the length of the main units of time and recalculated every date recorded in every system in terms of his new, autonomous measure.

Bewildering mess

No sooner did he launch into this monumental project than he found himself in a bewildering mess. ‘Every nation has its own [system of] eras’, he wrote, and none coincide. The confusion begins, he demonstrated, with the failure of some peoples –notably the Arabs – to understand that the only precise way to measure a day is when the sun is at the meridian: at noon or midnight. Errors in measuring a day in different cultures create months and then years of differing length. The result is a hopeless muddle.

Biruni seethed at the sheer incompetence he encountered on this crucial point. He then turned to the manner in which different peoples date the beginning of historic time and his anger turns to apoplexy. ‘Everything’, he thunders, ‘the knowledge of which is connected with the beginning of creation and with the history of bygone generations, is mixed up with falsification and myths.’ How can different peoples date creation as 3,000, 8,000 or 12,000 years ago? Even the Jews and Christians are at odds, with both of them following systems of time that are ‘obscurity itself’.

In a stunning aside, Biruni suggests that some of the errors may be traced to differences among biblical texts. Towards the Jews he is forgiving: ‘It cannot be thought strange that you should find discrepancies with people who have several times suffered so much from captivity and war as the Jews.’ But Christians, by trying to blend the Jewish and Greek systems, came up with an inexcusable chaos.

Biruni is no more kind to Arabs and Muslims. But while Muslims, Christians and Jews debate their differing dates for Adam and Eve and the biblical Flood, the Persians, deemed no less intelligent, deny that the Flood ever took place. Biruni concedes that pre-Muslim Arabs at least based their calendar on the seasons, but their system fell short of the Zoroastrian Persians. When he came across an Arab writer ‘Who was … very verbose … on the superiority of the Arabs to the Persians’, he opined: ‘I don’t know if he was really ignorant or only pretended to be.’

Such ridicule permeates Biruni’s Chronology. Sometimes it is direct, though even more scathing when indirect. In chart after chart he lists the intervals between major world events according to the various religions and peoples. Typical is his chart for dating the lives of Adam and Eve, which no one could perceive as anything but pure foolishness. Everywhere, he concludes, ‘History is mixed with lies’, as are all the cultures of mankind. In a damning passage, Biruni lists what each religion and people prohibits, indicating the capriciousness and outright foolishness of most of the laws by which people seek to order their lives.

Reasoned knowledge

Seeking the cause of such nonsense, Biruni points to the almost universal refusal to base knowledge on reason. It is not just the unreason of the astrologer, ‘who is so proud of his ingenuity’, but of all the peoples and cultures of the world. The only ones to escape Biruni’s wrath are the Greeks, whom he describes as ‘deeply imbued with, and so clever in geometry and astronomy, and they adhere so strictly to logical arguments that they are far from having recourse to the theories of those who derive the basis of their knowledge from divine inspiration’.

Biruni’s mechanical calendar,13th-century manuscript. (akg-images)

Biruni pushed his query to its logical conclusion. A chief difference among competing calendar systems is the way they account – or fail to account – for the fact that an astronomical year is 365 days and six hours long. To assume any other length – to fail, for example, to add in that extra quarter of a day – causes all feasts and holidays to migrate in time gradually through the year. This is why the pre-Muslim Arabs’ month of fasting was fixed in the calendar, while Ramadan now moves throughout the year. Both problems can be rectified by adding to the calendar of 365 days an extra day every fourth year, or ‘leap year’.

Called ‘intercalation’, this simple process became a litmus test by which Biruni measured the intellectual seriousness of all cultures. He praised the Egyptians, Greeks, Chaldeans and Syrians for the precision of their intercalations, which came down to seconds. He was less generous towards the Jews and Nestorian Christians, even though their systems of intercalation were widely copied. He noted that in order to fix their market dates and holidays, the pre-Muslim Arabs had adopted from the Jews their primitive system of intercalation. Muhammad rejected this, saying that ‘Intercalation is only an increase of infidelity, by which the infidels lead people astray’. With astonishing bluntness, Biruni made known his view that it was simply a mistake for the Prophet Muhammad to have rejected the adjustment of the year to reflect astronomical reality. Carefully hiding behind the words of another author, Biruni concluded that this decision by Muhammad, based on the Quran itself, ‘did much harm to the people’. Some later adjustments were made, but they failed to address the core problem. ‘It is astonishing’, he fulminated, ‘that our masters, the family of the Prophet, listened to such doctrines.’

Directions of prayer

This was but one of Biruni’s ventures onto extremely sensitive ground. In another aside, he considers the Islamic custom of addressing prayers to the location of Mecca, termed the Kibla. After noting that Muslims had initially prayed to Jerusalem, he laconically observed that Manicheans pray towards the North Pole and Harranians to the South Pole. Thus armed, Biruni offered his conclusion by favourably quoting a Manichean who argued that ‘a man who prays to God does not need any Kibla at all’.

After these diversions, Biruni returned to his central task. He knew that commercial interchange requires a common system of dating events and that all interactions among peoples require a common system with which to reckon the passage of time. Moving from description to prescription, he set down steps by which the mess created by religion and national mythologies could be corrected, or at least alleviated. His method was to create a means of converting dates from one system to another. Biruni presented it in the form of a large circular graph or chart, which he termed a ‘chessboard’, showing the eras, dates and intervals according to each culture. Anyone who was ‘more than a beginner in mathematics’ could manipulate the chessboard so as to translate from one system to another. The method, he boasted, would be useful to both historians and astronomers.

Biruni was as impatient as he was hyperactive. Scarcely had he finished his assignment than he rushed back to his native Khwarezm in order to measure further eclipses and seek funding for even bigger projects.

We do not know if Biruni managed to keep a copy of his Chronology and the calculator for all human history. The originals doubtless remained with Qabus. There is no reason to think that it gained wide dissemination, even in the Islamic world. If a copy reached the West before the 19th century, it remained unknown to scholarship and untranslated. Until a Leipzig scholar named Edward Sachau found a copy and translated it into English in 1879, Biruni’s Chronology was largely forgotten. Today, three slightly differing copies are known, one in Istanbul, one in Leiden and a third, profusely illustrated, in the library of Edinburgh University. Efforts are underway in both Britain and Uzbekistan to combine all three in a modern edition.

Before the appearance of Biruni’s Chronology there had been no universal history. Nor could it have been written, because there existed no unified matrix for measuring time that extended across religions and civilisations. Biruni’s was the first global calendar system and hence the essential tool for the construction of an integrated global history.

By grounding his concept of human history on the solid firmament of astronomy and reason, Biruni gave all peoples of the world a simple method for fixing dates on a single calendar system. Not until recent decades have thinkers applied the concept of a universal history to which Biruni’s Chronology of Ancient Nations opened the path.

The Prophet Muhammad prohibits intercalation, from The Chronology of Ancient Nations, 1307. (Edinburgh University Library/Bridgeman Images)

The Cambridge scientist C.P. Snow delivered his celebrated Rede lecture on ‘The Two Cultures’ in 1959. His critique of modern learning called attention to what he saw as the breakdown of communication between science and the humanities. In spite of several generations of historians seeking to ground their work more solidly on scientific method, the rift persists.

Abu Rayhan Muhammad al-Biruni, writing a thousand years ago, issued the same cri de coeur. Yet, unlike Snow, this 29-year-old thinker from Central Asia not only decried the total absence of rational and scientific thought in history and the social sciences, but did more than anyone before him to correct this omission. Along with Pythagoras, he believed that ‘Things are numbers’. In applying this maxim, he opened the way to a concept of universal history that had before been impossible and combined the ‘Two Cultures’ in a way that still deserves our admiration.

S. Frederick Starr is Research Professor at the Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced International Studies at Johns Hopkins University. This article was first published in the July 2017 issue of History Today.”

Obviously by inadvertance the author of the article refers to Polybius as “Roman historian”, whereas Polybius of Megalopolis was in fact Greek historian who spent many years as hostage in Rome and eventually collaborated with the Romans.

Stephen Frederick Starr is US academic, expert on Russian and Central Asian affairs, and musician (a jazz clarinetist). He has served as advisor of American presidents on Central Asia, Afghanistan and Caucasus and in other positions of the US political/military/academic complex, so it is obvious that his work has something to do with the promotion of the US agenda in the post-Soviet countries. But I reproduce here this article of his because I found it very interesting and enlightening concerning the problem of universal timeline, Herodotus, and the contribution of al-Biruni.

I think moreover that the problem of time in Herodotus and especially the problem of the relationship between the Egyptian and the Greek timelines and Herodotus’ efforts to harmonize them deserve a separate post presenting the points of view of different specialized scholars on these questions.

Source: https://www.historytoday.com/miscellanies/invention-world-history

#herodotus #al-biruni #universal timeline #s. frederick starr #central asia #persian civilization #iran #histories #chronology of ancient peoples #islamic civilization

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aloysiavirgata · 4 years

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The Way That Light Attaches To A Girl

Title: The Way That Light Attaches To A Girl

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: PG (language)

Timeline: Season 1

Summary: Maybe she’s not so bad, this gingery little doctor.

Author’s Notes: Mulder reads Cicero and finds the method of loci tool useful in honing an eidetic memory. Also, the timeline of this show is absurd. Per canon, the Pilot is in March of 1992. But here it’s March of 1993 because...I just can’t, honestly. Thank you to @perplexistan for reminding me that I wrote this in 2013, and talking me through the timeline.

*** It's been a long December and there's reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself To hold on to these moments as they pass - Counting Crows *** It’s gritty outside, gritty and gray with a rime of salt on everything. There are pockets of rotten snow for him to kick, slushy and satisfying against his heavy shoes. He pulls his coat tighter, feeling like a hard-boiled detective in a pulp paperback, thinking this would be a good time for a cigarette if he still smoked. His divorce papers were filed this time last year, just like his parents’ had been a couple decades back. The ink had scarcely been dry on the marriage certificate when they realized they didn’t know each other and changed their minds. It was the same time Diana left him and his - their - files for whatever the fuck had summoned her across the sea. Paperwork, as ever in his life, was all that remained of these experiences. If this were really a detective story, he thinks, stepping over a soggy Washington Post, a tall cool blonde would have walked in through the frozen mist and into his arms. Someone lithe, with red lipstick and half-lidded violet eyes. She would look like Veronica Lake and speak in a low, compelling voice, urging him to do brave and outlandish things to thwart the Nazis. He’d wear a fedora, buy a mink stole for the blonde. They’d drink martinis and make love in dark hotels smelling of leather and intrigue. But he’s not living in a dime-store novel, he’s living in Alexandria on Christmas Eve 1993 (“The New Age of Angels,” claimed Time magazine, somewhat cryptically) and is eager to turn the last page in his calendar. Mulder knows it’s symbolic only, that his Eurocentrism is showing, but he still watches the ball drop on TV. Last year he’d kissed a woman in a bar and gone home with her too, but doesn’t think he’d remember her face if he saw it. He hasn’t got the energy to entice a stranger this year, and Scully’s hardly his type. He shouldn’t be sleeping with coworkers anyway, it’s never worth the trouble and the FBI is full of people who are paid to do nothing but sniff out secrets. Besides, he is now 32 years old which is really about time to start getting your shit together even if your baby sister was abducted by aliens at Thanksgiving. Mulder generally holds the holidays in low regard. He pauses to watch a small flock of cats at an upended trash can, feasting upon pungent things like battlefield ravens. One of the cats glances at him sidelong, narrowing round yellow eyes as though Mulder has designs on the gray thing it’s gnawing at. He holds his hands up to show the cats he wishes them no harm, keeps walking. Scully had offered to drive him home but he thanked her and caught the blue line, the clank and rattle of the train making him feel like some variety of normal businessman. Maybe people thought he was a banker or a Congressional staffer, going home to a twinkling Douglas fir and a mantle hung with stockings. Nine months and a broken condom can, in many circumstances, result in a whole new person. But it’s been nine months with Scully and she’s still her own woman, though Christ knows Mulder’s tried to remake her in his own image. She’s trudged alongside him through graveyards, military bases, bad diners, and one memorable night in Pennsylvania where she had captured a frantic bat in the hotel lobby. (“Do you want to wait for it to take human form before I release it?” she’d asked drily.) Through all of it she remained disbelieving and supercilious, leaving him vexed. She’d chirped “Merry Christmas, Mulder” at him, assuming that he celebrated Christmas and was capable of merriment. He was afraid Scully’d bring in a little Charlie Brown tree for the office, ornaments smooth and shining as her earnest face. She is skeptical in all the wrong ways and probably has the Michael Bolton Christmas album on her stereo at this very moment. She probably has eggnog in the fridge and will drink it without rum. She probably likes fruitcake and ham with pineapple rings on it. Mulder, going home to the shadows of his apartment where he might listen to Pink Floyd and nurse his resentment with three fingers of whiskey, feels justified in his scorn. A couple loaded with gifts pushes past him and he nearly loses his balance on a patch of black ice, clutches at a lamp post. He gazes up at the endless sky as snow begins to fall again. (Scully’s probably delighted by the prospect of a white Christmas, probably whistling a few bars of the song as she puts on a green sweater.) But he’s being unfair, isn’t he? For all her tattling back to the higher ups, she’s never tried to present herself as an angel. Her primary fault is in not being Diana, not being a tall dark moon goddess. Being pretty rather than beautiful, being frank rather than alluring. He’s seen her smoking a couple of times, discovered that she says “Jesus!” a lot so that she doesn’t say “fuck” or “shit.” This amuses him; he thought the blasphemy would be worse. He knows Scully watches what she eats but turns to carbohydrates and wine in times of stress. He found out she was sleeping with that asshole Jack Willis, which really threw him for a loop because Scully has a schoolteacherish quality that led him to presume premarital abstinence. He thinks of her in that first motel room, her smooth back beneath his hands, her panic turning on some masculine caveman switch. It’s been a long year, perhaps she could be his type after all despite her sensible underwear. She’s attractive enough if you like that sort of Hibernian look. He can tell she’s a bit awed by him and he could manipulate that to his advantage. Mulder walks the last slushy block thinking impious thoughts about Catholic school uniforms and playing doctor. The honeycomb tile of his building is muddied, layered with fragments of leaves and footprints. A radio blares something about Barbra Streisand doing her first live concert in twenty years. Mulder shakes his head and imagines his mother on the Vineyard, frothing with excitement. “Merry Christmas Agent Mulder,” says Leo, the maintenance guy. Leo’s got some kind of intellectual disability that Mulder hasn’t bothered to diagnose, but he’s always quick to replace a kicked-in lock or a shot-out window, and Mulder therefore regards him as a master craftsman. He gives Leo money every year at Christmas. At present he’s attacking the hallway sludge with an ancient mop. “Merry Christmas, Leo.” He gets his mail, sorting through it as he ambles to the elevator. Bill; bill; Playboy; Christmas cards from his doctor, dentist, and insurance agent; coupons; a thick manila envelope from the divorce attorney. Mulder rolls it all into a bundle and shoves it under his arm. He’s fumbling with his keys when the elevator deposits him on the fourth floor. There are wreaths on most of the doors in his building, a handful of mezuzas. Number 42, as usual, conforms to no given standard. He stops when he sees Scully leaning against his door. “Um,” he says. “Hey.” She waves her fingertips, looking uncomfortable. She’s holding a cardboard FedEx envelope. “I forgot to give you this before you left.” “Okay,” he says, uncertain about the idea of Scully on his turf. “Hang on a sec.” He makes sure the packet from the lawyer is hidden, though she’s probably heard the whole story. He knows what the talk is. They all act like he’s John fucking Douglas, like he can guess what number they’re thinking of based on how they part their hair. He’s a sideshow act, the guy who can think like John Roche and Monty Props. A freak. Scully turns to slouch against the wall while he jiggles the latest lock open, wishing there were a convenient place to stash a can of WD-40. “So, uh, come on in, I guess.” She turns, walks under his arm as he hold the door open, and stands in the entryway. The door clicks shut behind him, a final sound. Mulder puts his mail on the kitchen counter, tossing his coat over it. “You want anything to drink?” he calls to her, unsure if he can make good on the offer. What the hell does Scully drink? Tea? Zima? He’s got a few beers in the fridge, his wife’s wine is long finished. “No, I’m good.” Her coat’s draped over her arm when he comes back out, and he hangs it up for her. He notices that she’s wearing jeans with a navy cable-knit sweater, no tartan in sight. Her boots are dark and practical. Mulder shrugs off his jacket, loosens his tie out of its regulation noose. “Here, sit down. There’s, uh, the couch is right over there.” His couch is the atramentous green of algae, appearing black in the close room. “So what’s up?” She holds out the folder to him. “I realized I had this when I got home and since it’s a three day weekend, I wanted to make sure you had it. I thought it might be important.” Scully sits down close to the edge of the couch, much of her weight on her knees. She presses her hands together between them after Mulder takes the envelope, bouncing a little bit. He looks at the return address and groans. Arlinsky, that idiot from the Smithsonian. Mulder’s got enough credibility issues without this nutcase on his tail. He tosses the envelope on his cluttered desk for later perusal. Scully, as the messenger, looks apologetic. “Bad news?” He sits next to her, why not? “Nah, just…you know. The usual.” “Ah.” He watches her do a quick scan of his apartment. He has nothing to be ashamed of, she can look around. Mulder removes his tie completely now, untucks his shirt and leans into the corner of his couch. “So I’m surprised you’re here, Scully. I got the impression Christmas was a…thing. For your family.” He waves his hand vaguely, as though families are something he read about in a Margaret Mead article but never fully understood. Something closes in Scully’s face, which intrigues him. Discomfort usually comes with a good story, but he’ll tease it out of her later. She scratches her elbow, stalling. “I’m going to go by my parents’ house tomorrow.” “Not tonight? No big Scully celebration with stockings hung by the fire and cookies for Santa?” He has picked these ideas up from Oxford and Christmas music. Santa would probably prefer a cold longneck and some nachos. “My sister’s coming in tomorrow, she’s staying with my parents so they’re getting everything ready tonight. My younger brother and his family too, they’re getting in late.” Scully looks faintly guilty for this wealth of relatives. Which one of them are you avoiding, Dana? “Fun,” he says in a tone that he hopes is not sarcastic. Scully shrugs, picks at the cuff of her sweater. “Yeah, it’ll be good. I’ll get to see my niece and nephew. What about you? What are you doing?” “Oh, just…you know. Laying low.” He’s meeting up with the Gunmen for Chinese food and bootleg video games from some Japanese guy they know, but he’s not ready to tell Scully about them. In part because she might want to meet them and would end up charging Frohike with a sex crime. “Sounds good,” she says in a non-judgmental tone. “I could use some down time myself.” “Job wearing on you?” Going to wimp out and request a transfer? She puffs a breath of air out, pushes the tip of her tongue to her top lip. “No. Well, I mean, it’s hard. We travel so much, I didn’t do that before and it’s taking some adjustment.” Mulder drapes an arm over the back of the couch, wishing he could take his pants off and order a pizza. But he wants to know more about what drives her; Diana left him wary of unknown quantities, and this is his first opportunity to peer into Scully’s head. “Yeah, I guess they mostly shipped the cadavers to you before, huh? When you were doing doctor things?” He sees a slight narrowing of her eyes at this, the implication that she’s not a doctor now. The fact that she took it as an insult means it’s a vulnerability. “Mostly.” He decides to push it, being as he has home field advantage. “How come you decided to stop practicing medicine?” Scully sits up straight, her palms on the tops of her thighs. “I didn’t realize I had.” Prickly. “Oh, sorry, no offense. I just….you left your residency to join the FBI, right?” Faker, he knows her career trajectory down to the day. “My work as a Special Agent has always revolved around my background in forensic pathology. I just felt…called to the FBI as the place to best put those skills to use.” Called, religious imagery. Interesting. Her reply had a rehearsed sound, it’s something she’s repeated numerous times. Who gives her grief about being an FBI agent? A younger brother wouldn’t, would probably look up to that. Mom or Dad, most likely, though it could be one of the older siblings. He’d put his money on Dad or big brother based on the cold formality of her words. Both men are in the military, she’d speak to that. And big brother wasn’t mentioned as being in town, so Dad it is. He throws her a bone for revealing so much. “I’ve heard nothing but commendations.” “Thanks.” The appreciation seems genuine. “So what about you, Mulder? Why….this?” Scully holds her arms out like an orchestra conductor. The gesture encompasses his desk, the groaning bookshelves and fading newspaper clippings. Area 51, Reticulans, ectoplasm, and jackalopes. “Study hard what interests you the most in the most undisciplined, irreverent and original manner possible,” he quotes. “Feynman.” Scully knows her physicists. “It’s the perfect con, really. I figured out a way to get the federal government to pay for my hobbies.” He hopes that will satisfy her, but knows better. “Why is it your hobby?” Ah, Scully. You little investigator, you. “I’m a lousy knitter.” She smiles. “Because of your sister?” He steeples his fingertips, taps them against his chin. It’s tempting to blow her off, but he considers the implications of her presence. There was no reason to bring that letter by; she could have called and he could have told her to round-file it. She’s trying to build something between them, she’s looking past his annoyance with her assignment and he’s not going to slap her hand away on Christmas Eve. “Hold that thought,” he says. Mulder goes to the kitchen for the beers and the churchkey magnet stuck to the freezer. He checks for food, but a cursory examination reveals that Scully is going to have to make do with some brews. She’s peering into the fish tank when he returns, scrutinizing the inhabitants. “I think one of your mollies is pregnant,” she says. “That spotted one.” “Yeah, they’re prolific little cannibals. Here, Scully. Have a drink.” He holds the bottle out to her when she turns, watches her hesitate for an instant before accepting. “Thanks,” she says. “Though I probably shouldn’t.” She pops the lid off when he’s done with the opener. Takes a long drink. “So,” he says, returning to his seat on the couch. “Why do I spend my time looking for ET and yetis, right?” Scully rolls the bottle between her palms. “It’s hard for me to understand why someone with your abilities chooses to use those gifts this way.” Once she rides out this dogleg, Mulder thinks, she’ll go far in the Bureau with her careful diplomacy. “When my sister was…taken, it was the first time that none of the authority figures in my life had an answer. Not my parents, my teachers, the police…no one could tell me what had happened. Years went by and there was still no solution. People stopped thinking about it, you know? They just acted like she was gone and that’s all there was to it.” “But not you.” Her voice is gentle. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this was a question with an answer, even if no one wanted to delve deeper into what that answer was. I became, well, obsessed with the idea that there were all of these mysteries out there with answers that people were uncomfortable finding. So when I found the X-Files…” He glances sidelong at his partner, her nutmeg freckles and her cinnamon hair. “Isn’t that what you were doing already, though? Solving impossible cases?” He shrugs. “They weren’t impossible. They followed a pattern if you knew what to look for. But what I do now, no one wants the answer, Scully. That’s the real challenge.” “You caught Monty Props. Props, Jesus, that case is legendary! I want to understand, I do. I see what you’re saying about the challenge, it does make a kind of sense. But when I think about the people you stopped…” She shakes her head. She doesn’t get it. But she’s trying instead of dismissing him. That’s something. “That’s just it. Your reaction, it’s…look. Serial killers, they’re sexy. The public loves them. Everyone wants to be Bill Patterson or, or… Jack Crawford, right? People still read about Jack the Ripper, they practically turn these psychopaths into folk heroes. There will never be a shortage of people wanting to do what I did.” Half the beer is gone in his next swallow. Scully looks thoughtful, her thumbnail at the damp corner of the label on her bottle. “So this is like, what? Like a martyr thing? If you walk away from the limelight for this then it makes up for never knowing what happened to your sister?” She turns her head to give him a level gaze, her eyes so blue and clear they seem artificial at times. He’s been called worse than a martyr, but somehow it stings. “Martyr? That’s condescending.” “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. I just, I guess it’s hard for me to understand what you hope to gain. What all this means to you in the end.” Mulder’s had enough of her analysis. “I’m not like you, I don’t crave approval.” It’s her turn to look stung. “I didn’t mean to pry.” He sighs. “Your questions aren’t unfair. It’s been a hard year.” “I heard.” There’s sympathy in her tone and he tries not to resent it. “Listen, Scully, I know you didn’t ask for this assignment and you’re doing your best with a bad hand. It’s just hard to share a career I’m passionate about with someone who pretty clearly thinks it’s a waste of time.” Scully sets her beer on the coffee table, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands cupped around her chin. Mulder props his feet up next to her bottle, patient in the silence. There are deep shadows in the room, illuminated by the ambient streetlight through the curtains, the cool blue aquarium lamp. Puddles of light leak from the kitchen, but they barely stain the rug. Scully looks like a Hitchcock girl, white and pure, untouched by the surrounding gloom. She reminds him of Ingrid Bergman or Greta Garbo, her good bones and heavy-lidded eyes. “You know,” Scully says, muffled, “Pathology’s hardly the hottest specialty in med school. It’s not really seen as a place to make a career.” “The malpractice can’t be bad though, right?” She rolls her eyes. “You spend years of your life learning to care for the living and use it to examine the dead. People have…opinions about that.” This had not occurred to him, and he says as much. Scully sits up and settles back into the couch. “And to then take that to the FBI, well…” Full circle to the truth. “Lots of grief for that?” She shrugs. “From some more than others. My dad, he – look, Mulder. I’m not saying we’re in the same place or have the same ideas or that we’re both noble misunderstood renegades. I am not trying to oversimplify anything. I’m just telling you that I know what it’s like to care deeply about something that other people don’t necessarily understand.” She looks defensive after this, takes a fierce swig of her beer. Mulder eyes her up with a new appreciation. “I guess I just figured all doctors sit on pedestals.” “If so, some of the pedestals are much higher than others. I know you don’t like me, Mulder. Or at least you don’t like our partnership. We may never be friends, I realize that. But it’s been three quarters of a year, you have to let your guard down if we’re going to work together. I want what you want, answers to these questions.” He smiles at her. A real smile, and thinks that it’s been a long time since he’s done it. “But you still think I’m spooky.” Scully smiles back. “Absolutely. And I still don’t believe in aliens. Or yetis. Or missing time or vampires or Nessie. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there are answers.” He scratches his chin, five o’clock shadow rough on his fingertips. Maybe she’s not so bad, this gingery little doctor. “I did say I wanted a challenge.” “You did at that.” She returns her bottle to the table, then turns to face him. The aquarium provides a ghostly backlight, her hair gleaming like rubbed copper. He holds this image of Scully in his mind until it is indelible, then tucks it away to remember her by. The Rhetorica ad Herennium advises sensory encoding to aid in recall, and so he places her in the sunlit portrait gallery of his memory palace. Scully stands, crosses the room to take her coat from the rack. “I’m sorry the letter wasn’t good news.” Mulder gets up to join her. “It’s okay.” He squints when she opens the door, the hallway so bright it hurts his eyes. “Thanks for bringing it by.” “Okay, well, I’ll see you on Monday, I guess.” She seems hesitant to go. She probably feels sorry for him. “Thanks for the drink. And the company.” “Go,” he says. “You don’t want coal in your stocking for oversleeping tomorrow.” She laughs a little, then takes his hands in her small white ones. She gives them a squeeze. “This is going to be okay, Mulder.” He thinks she might be right, squeezes back. She lets go of him, walks out and turns right. He locks up behind her, her perfume still lingering on his side of the door. Diana’s not coming home. It’s time that he moved on.

#my fic #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #season 1 #new years eve

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deathstudy21 · 3 years

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Theists vs Atheists

"Do you believe in God? Which God?" Atheists famously say. When Atheists say there is no God, they typically mean a ruling leader. Think of the movie Stargate with the Egyptian ruler enslaving the people for their own bidding. Atheists typically deny a leader.

Stephen Hawking said in his book brief answers to the big questions that: "One could define God as the embodiment of the laws of nature. However, this is not what most people would think of as God. They mean a human-like being, with whom one can have a personal relationship."

In a passage taken from How to think about God from writings by Marcus Tullius Cicero, Philip Freeman translates: "In spite of our limitations, the human intelligence we possess ought to lead us to reason that there exists another mind greater than our own-one that is in fact divine. Otherwise, as Socrates asks in the pages of Xenophon, where did we aquire the minds we have?"

Timothy Leary had a more direct approach and defined God as the brain literally. In his book Your brain is God he wrote: "As long as we rely on our brains to know, then inevitably we shall define the universe as an enormous brain. Each flick of energy, stellar-galactic or nuclear-atomic, is seen as information. The universe is a web of intelligence mediated by our brain. The smarter we become, the more intelligent the universe will become.... the smarter we become, the smarter God will become."

When people deny God, they typically deny a leader, a messiah. Jesus Christ chosen to be the light and messenger to the world. Abraham chosen to lead the people. Jehovah as the literal name of God almighty. Allah as the name of the one and true God.

The Greeks or Egyptians for example, noticed patterns in nature. These formulas they began labeling as types of gods which ruled certain fields. They (the gods) had a job as a ruler to direct a form of nature.

In Egypt Maat, was the goddess of truth and justice whom weighed the hearts of the dead with a feather. If they were heavier, they would not pass into the afterlife and they would be eaten whole by Ammit, a female demon.

The Greeks in the field of death had Hades, Thanatos, and Hypnos. Hades being the ruler of the dead world, and Thanatos being literally death itself. Thanatos twin brother Hypnos the god of sleep.

All in all, there is too much information for one post, but we can see how powerful these teachings are. In my personal opinion I think that Leary was onto something. As we still are trying to discover ourselves, our brain is in connection with everything that we are and with the Universe. All of our discussions bring us closer to understanding ourselves, nature, and our closeness within everything.

#death study #death #brain #brains #God #theists #athiest

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apenitentialprayer · 4 years

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The Map of Hell, According to Dante’s Inferno (source)

The Inferno: A Geography of a Christian Afterlife, According to Classical Ethics

In the first part of his Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri paints a dismal yet vivid picture of Hell, populated with figures from both classical and Christian mythology, along with many historical figures as well. Pouring his creative energy into the landscape in which the damned reside for eternity, Dante created a world that has captivated readers for seven centuries as of this year. Blending Christian theology and morality with Classical mythology and liberal arts, Dante includes many details in his work that act to serve as a bridge connecting the two worlds that he so clearly held dear. The most obvious artistic choice was selecting Virgil, the Roman poet whom many Christians at the time believed prophesied about the coming of Christ, as his guide for two thirds of his epic. The intermingling of classical and Christian elements throughout work can also be more subtle - the guardians of the City of Dis, Phlegyas (who set fire to a temple of Apollo) and the fallen angels, are thematically connected in that they are both guilty of rebellion against the Divine. With that in mind, it should be noted that the geography of Hell, in the three-fold division of its nine circles, is most heavily influenced by Classical thought. (Purgatory, with its seven terraces, more closely follows Christian conceptions of the division and hierarchy of sin). As described to the pilgrim Dante by his guide Virgil in the poem itself, this triadic division is borrowed from Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics (specifically, VIII.1). In that passage, Aristotle describes three states of man that are contrary to the good; incontinence, malice, and brutishness. Incontinence, the sins of the flesh, is the theme of the second through fourth circles of Hell. (The first circle is reserved for those “virtuous non-Christians”). The sins that are described here are considered less serious than the ones that are described further in the poem, but nonetheless represent a much larger mass of the damned. These sins, ranging from fornication to squandering wealth, are not as reprehensible as the sins that will later be described, but they’re nonetheless capable of cutting people off from God. Dante the Poet is careful to convey that the readers shouldn’t fall for the attempts by the damned to gain sympathy (as Dante the Pilgrim falls victim to). Incontinence is separated from the next two sections of Hell, first by the River Styx, and then by the walls of the City of Dis. Coincidentally, there are no fallen angels in this poem until Dante passes into the second part of Hell, another sign of the severity of the other two categories compared to this first one. The fifth circle, a “soft border” between the circles of Incontinence and the circles of Malice, have the wrathful damned either moping in anger or taking their anger out on each other. Circles six through eight are those of Malice, that is to say, violence. Dante identifies three types of violence; that against God, that against one’s neighbors, and that against oneself. Further, Dante takes inspiration from another Classical writer, Cicero, to identify two methods of violence; physical force and deception. These sins are more serious than the ones previously discussed because they involve active wish to harm or rebel rather than a simple wish to fulfill desire. Tombs full of heretics line the inside of the walls of Dis, while the seventh circle is divided into three rings, into which different violent offenders are placed. The eighth ring, the ring of flatters and panderers and those who perform acts of simony, is home to at least two popes! The nine circle, divided into four sections, is for those damned for Brutishness, also translated as ‘bestiality’. Dante interprets this category to refer to those who have purposely violated special bond. From least to worst offensive, these are those who betrayed family, who betrayed nation, who betrayed guests, and who betrayed their rightful superiors. It is in this last section where the three worst offenders, Brutus, Cassius, and Judas, are chewed alive by the Devil. This poem, written by an orthodox Catholic immersed in the literary culture of Florentine humanism, is thoroughly Christian in nature. At the same time, however, this poet used Classical elements not only to symbolize ideas and populate his work, but used some of their ideals to influence the very structure that that work took. (This information is a summary of some of the ideas of Peter Bondanella, expressed in his footnotes in the Barnes&Noble Classics edition of The Inferno)

#Dante Alighieri #Dante's Inferno #Divine Comedy #Aristotle #Christianity #Catholicism #Hell #sin #Cicero

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years

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EXALTATION OF THE HOLY CROSS

September 14 - Today is the feast day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

Today’s feast is a triumphant liturgy— a day in which red is worn to symbolize the glorious and saving sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross. The Church sings of the triumph of the Cross—no longer an instrument of death and torture—but the powerful and glorious instrument of our redemption. To follow Christ we must take up His cross, follow Him and become obedient until death, even if it means death on the cross. We identify with Christ on the Cross and become co-redeemers, sharing in His cross.

The Cross could not be decently mentioned amongst Romans, who looked upon it as an unlucky omen, and as Cicero says, not to be named by a freeman. However, the Emperor Constantine attributed his victory in the Quintian fields, near the bridge Milvius, to the Cross of the Christians, the inscription of which he caused to be put under his statue with which the senate honoured him in Rome, as Eusebius testifies. The same historian mentions that in his triumph, he did not mount the capitol, to offer sacrifices and gifts to the false gods, according to the custom of his predecessors, but “by illustrious inscriptions promulgated the power of Christ’s saving sign.”

EXHALTATION OF THE HOLY CROSS. Adapted from The Liturgical Year by Abbot Gueranger

“Through Thee the precious Cross is honored and worshiped throughout the world.” Thus did Saint Cyril of Alexandria praise Our Lady on the morrow of that great day, which saw Her Divine Maternity vindicated at Ephesus. Eternal Wisdom has willed that the Octave of Mary's Birth should be honored by the celebration of this Feast of the triumph of the Holy Cross. The Cross indeed is the standard of God's armies, whereof Mary is the Queen; it is by the Cross that She crushes the serpent's head, and wins so many victories over error, and over the enemies of the Christian name.

“By this sign thou shalt conquer.” Satan had been suffered to try his strength against the Church by persecution and tortures; but his time was drawing to an end. By the edict of Sardica, which emancipated the Christians, Galerius, when about to die, acknowledged the powerlessness of Hell. Now was the time for Christ to take the offensive, and for His Cross to prevail. Towards the close of the year 311, a Roman army lay at the foot of the Alps, preparing to pass from Gaul into Italy. Constantine, its commander, together with his soldiers, already belonged henceforward to the Lord of hosts. The Son of the Most High, having become the Son of Mary, King of this world, was about to reveal Himself to His first lieutenant, and, at the same time, to discover to His first army the standard that was to go before it. Above the legions, in a cloudless sky, the Cross, proscribed for three long centuries, suddenly shone forth; all eyes beheld it, making the western sun, as it were, its footstool, and surrounded with these words in characters of fire: IN HOC VINCE: By this sign conquer! A few months later, October 27, 312, all the idols of Rome stood aghast to behold, approaching along the Flaminian Way, beyond the bridge Milvius, the Labarum with its sacred monogram, now become the standard of the imperial armies. On the morrow was fought the decisive battle, which opened the gates of the eternal City to Christ, the only God, the everlasting King.

“O great and admirable mystery!” cries out Saint Augustine. “He must increase, but I must decrease, said John, said the voice which personified all the voices that had gone before announcing the Father's Word Incarnate in His Christ. Every word, in that it signifies something, in that it is an idea, an internal word, is independent of the number of syllables, of the various letters and sounds; it remains unchangeable in the heart that conceives it, however numerous may be the words that give it outward existence, the voices that utter it, the languages, Greek, Latin and the rest, into which it may be translated. To him who knows the word, expressions and voices are useless. The prophets were voices, the Apostles were voices; voices are in the psalms, voices in the Gospel. But let the Word come, the Word Who was in the beginning, the Word Who was with God, the Word Who was God; when we shall see Him as He is, shall we hear the Gospel repeated? Shall we listen to the prophets? Shall we read the Epistles of the Apostles? The voice fails where the Word increases… Not that in Himself the Word can either diminish or increase. But He is said to grow in us, when we grow in Him. To him, then, who draws near to Christ, to him who makes progress in the contemplation of wisdom, words are of little use; of necessity they tend to fail altogether. Thus the ministry of the voice falls short in proportion as the soul progresses towards the Word; it is thus that Christ must increase and John decrease. The same is indicated by the beheading of John, and the exaltation of Christ upon the Cross; as it had already been shown by their birthdays: for, from the birth of John the days begin to shorten, and from the birth of Our Lord they begin to grow longer.”

“Hail, O Cross, formidable to all enemies, bulwark of the Church, strength of princes; hail in thy triumph! The sacred Wood still lay hidden in the earth, yet it appeared in the heavens announcing victory; and an emperor, become Christian, raised it up from the bowels of the earth.” Thus sang the Greek Church yesterday, in preparation for the joys of today; for the East, which has not our Feast of May 3, celebrates on this one solemnity both the overthrow of idolatry by the sign of salvation revealed to Constantine and his army, and the discovery of the Holy Cross a few years later in the cistern of Golgotha.

But another celebration, the memory of which is fixed by the Menology on September 13, was added in the year 335 to the happy recollections of this day; namely the Dedication of the Basilicas raised by Constantine on Mount Calvary and over the Holy Sepulcher, after the precious discoveries made by his mother, Saint Helena. In the very same century that witnessed all these events, a pious pilgrim, thought to be Saint Silva, sister of Rufinus the minister of Theodosius and Arcadius, attested that the anniversary of this Dedication was celebrated with the same solemnity as Easter and the Epiphany. There was an immense concourse of bishops, clerics, monks, and laity of both sexes, from every province; and the reason, she says, is that the “Cross was found on this day”; which motive had led to the choice of the same day for the first consecration, so that the two joys might be united into one.

Saint Sophronius, the holy Patriarch of Jerusalem, proclaimed: “It is the Feast of the Cross; who would not exult? It is the triumph of the Resurrection; who would not be full of joy? Formerly, the Cross led to the Resurrection; now it is the Resurrection that introduces us to the Cross. Resurrection and Cross: trophies of our salvation!” And the Pontiff then developed the instructions resulting from this connection.

It appears to have been about the same time that the West also began to unite in a certain manner these two great mysteries; leaving to September 14 the other memories of the Holy Cross, the Latin churches introduced into Paschal Time a special Feast of the Finding of the Wood of Redemption. In compensation, the present solemnity acquired a new luster to its character of triumph by the contemporaneous events which form the principal subject of the historical lessons in the Roman liturgy.

A century earlier, Saint Benedict had appointed this day for the commencement of the period of penance knows as the monastic Lent, which continues till the opening of Lent proper, when the whole Christian army joins the ranks of the cloister in the campaign of fasting and abstinence. “The Cross,” says Saint Sophronius, “is brought before our minds; who will not crucify himself? The true worshiper of the sacred Wood is he who carries out his worship in his deeds.”

The following are the lessons we have already alluded to:

About the end of the reign of the Emperor Phocas, Chosroes king of the Persians invaded Egypt and Africa. He then took possession of Jerusalem; and after massacring there many thousand Christians, he carried away into Persia the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ, which Saint Helena had placed upon Mount Calvary. Phocas was succeeded in the Empire by Heraclius; who, after enduring many losses and misfortunes in the course of the war, sued for peace, but was unable to obtain it even upon disadvantageous terms, so elated was Chosroes by his victories. In this perilous situation he applied himself to prayer and fasting, and earnestly implored God's assistance. Then, admonished from Heaven, he raised an army, marched against the enemy, and defeated three of Chosroes' generals with their armies.

Subdued by these disasters, Chosroes took to flight; and, when about to cross the river Tigris, named his son Medarses his associate in the kingdom. But his eldest son Sisroes, bitterly resenting this insult, plotted the murder of his father and brother. He soon afterwards overtook them in flight, and put them to death. Sisroes then had himself recognized as king by Heraclius, on certain conditions, the first of which was to restore the Cross of Our Lord. Thus, 14 years after It had fallen into the hands of the Persians, the Cross was recovered; and on his return to Jerusalem, Heraclius, with great pomp, bore It back on his own shoulders to the Mount whither Our Savior had carried It.

This event was signalized by a remarkable miracle. Heraclius, attired as he was in robes adorned with gold and precious stones was forced to stand still at the gate which led to Mount Calvary. The more he endeavored to advance, the more he seemed fixed to the spot. Heraclius himself and all the people were as-tounded; but Zacharias, the Bishop of Jerusalem, said: Consider, O Emperor, how little thou imitatest the poverty and humility of Jesus Christ, by carrying the Cross clad in triumphal robes. Heraclius there-upon laid aside his magnificent apparel, and barefoot, clothed in poor attire, he easily completed the rest of the way, and replaced the Cross in the same place on Mount Calvary, whence It had been carried off by the Persians. From this event, the Feast of the Exultation of the Holy Cross, which was celebrated yearly on this day, gained fresh luster, in memory of the Cross being replaced by Heraclius on the spot where it had first been set up for Our Savior.

The victory thus chronicled in the sacred books of the Church was not the last triumph of the Holy Cross; nor were the Persians Its latest enemies. At the very time of the defeat of these fire-worshiping pagans, the prince of darkness was raising up a new standard—the crescent. By the permission of God, Islam also was about to try its strength against the Cross: a two-fold power, the sword and the seduction of the passions. But here again, in the secret combats between the soul and Satan, as well as in the great battles recorded in history, the final success was due to the weakness and folly of Calvary.

The Cross was the rallying-standard of all Europe in those sacred expeditions which borrowed from It their beautiful title of Crusades, and which exalted the Christian name in the East. While on the one hand the Cross was warding off degradation and ruin, on the other It was preparing the conquest of new continents; so that it was by the Cross that the West remained at the head of nations, rather than beneath the foot of the crescent. Through the Cross, the warriors in these glorious campaigns are inscribed on the first pages of the golden book of nobility. The orders of chivalry, which claimed to hold among their ranks the elite of the human race, looked upon the Cross as the highest mark of merit and honor.

O adorable Cross, our glory and our love here on earth, save us on the day when thou shalt appear in the heavens, when the Son of Man, seated in His majesty, is to judge the world!

THE EXALTATION OF THE HOLY CROSS BY FATHER FRANCIS XAVIER WENINGER, 1876

This festival was instituted in commemoration of the day on which the holy Cross of Christ, was, with great solemnities, brought back to Jerusalem. Chosroes, king of Persia, had invaded Syria with a powerful army, and had conquered Jerusalem, the capital. He caused the massacre of eighty thousand men, and also took many prisoners away with him, among whom was the Patriarch Zachary. But more painful than all this to the Christians was, that he carried away the holy, Cross of our Saviour, which, after great pains, had been discovered by the holy empress, St. Helena. The pagan king carried it with him to Persia, adorned it magnificently with pearls and precious stones, and placed it upon the top of his royal throne of pure gold. Thus was the holy Cross held in higher honor by the heathen king, than Martin Luther would have manifested; for, in one of his sermons, he says of it: “If a piece of the holy Cross were given to me and I had it in my hand, I would soon put it where the sun would never shine on it.”

Heraclius, the pious emperor, was greatly distressed at this misfortune, and as he had not an army sufficiently large to meet so powerful an enemy, he made propositions for peace. Chosroes, inflated by many victories, refused at first to listen to the emperor's proposal, but at length consented, on condition that Heraclius should forsake the faith of Christ and worship the Sun, the god of the Persians. Indignant at so wicked a request, the emperor, seeing that it was a question of religion, concerning the honor of the Most High, broke off all negotiation with his impious enemy. Taking refuge in prayer, he assembled all the Christian soldiers of his dominions, and commanded all his subjects to appease the wrath of the Almighty, and ask for His assistance, by fasting, praying, giving alms and other good works. He himself gave them the example. After this, he went courageously, with his comparatively small army, to meet the haughty Chosroes, having given strict orders that his soldiers, besides abstaining from other vices, should avoid all plundering and blaspheming, that they might prove themselves worthy of the divine assistance.

Taking a crucifix in his hand, he animated his soldiers by pointing towards it, saying they should consider for whose honor they were fighting, and that there was nothing more glorious than to meet death for the honor of God and His holy religion. Thus strengthened, the Christian army marched against the enemy. Three times were they attacked by three divisions of the Persian army, each one led by an experienced general; and three times they repulsed the enemy, so that Chosroes himself had at last to flee. His eldest son, Siroes, whom he had excluded from the succession to the throne, seized the opportunity, and not only assassinated his own father, but also his brother, Medarses, who had been chosen by Chosroes as his associate and successor. To secure the crown which he had thus forcibly seized, Siroes offered peace to Heraclius, restored to him the conquered provinces, and also sent back the holy Cross, the patriarch Zachary, and all the other prisoners of war. Heraclius, in great joy, hastened with the priceless wood to Jerusalem, to offer due thanks to the Almighty for the victory, and to restore the holy Cross, which the Persians had kept in their possession during fourteen years, to its former place.

All the inhabitants of the city, the clergy and laity, came to meet the pious emperor. The latter had resolved to carry the Cross to Mount Calvary, to the church fitted up for its reception. A solemn procession was formed, in which the Patriarch, the courtiers and an immense multitude of people took part. The clergy preceded, and the emperor, arrayed in sumptuous robes of state, carried the holy Cross upon his shoulder. Having thus passed through the city, they came to the gate that leads to Calvary, when suddenly the emperor stood still and could not move from the spot. At this miracle, all became frightened, not knowing what to think of it. Only to St. Zachary did God reveal the truth. Turning to the emperor the patriarch said: “Christ was not arrayed in splendor when He bore His Cross through this gate. His brow was not adorned with a golden crown, but with one made of thorns. Perhaps, O emperor, your magnificent robe is the cause of your detention.”

The pious Heraclius humbly gave ear to the words of the patriarch, divested himself of his imperial purple, and put on poor apparel, he took the crown from his head and the shoes from his feet. Having done this, the sacred treasure was again laid on his shoulder: when, behold! nothing detained him, and he carried it to the place of its destination. The holy patriarch then deposited the Cross in its former place, and duly venerated it with all who were present. God manifested how much He was pleased with the honor they had paid to the holy Cross of Christ, by many miracles wrought on the same day. A dead man was restored to life by being touched by the sacred wood; four paralytic persons obtained the use of their limbs; fifteen who were blind received sight; many sick recovered their health; and several possessed were freed from the devil by devoutly touching it.

#exaltation of the holy cross

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achtung-attitude · 5 years

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Fury in My Eyes

They can hear it from backstage, the rhythm pulsing like an electronic heartbeat. ‘Dreamer’s Gone’’, the tune that made the C-King famous, hypes the gathered crowd into a controlled frenzy. Jerome’s lyrics, “smooth as a chocolate river” as described in Rolling Stones magazine, further entrances the crowd, in what some have compared to a religious experience.

Shizuka hangs on Trish Una’s every word, even as the popstar’s various stylists apply their final touches to her hair and make-up before the show begins. Kilo Staples sticks out like a sore thumb, out of place in the brightly lit dressing room. He stares at the women talking. Shizuka, and her smiling face.

“With guilt like that,” Moya declares in a memory that stings behind his eyes, “there can be only one method of atonement, right?”

He steps out of the room without a word. He walks away, past the stagehands, the sound checkers, the technicians. Waves away the security guards with his backstage pass until he finally finds a somewhat quiet spot, away from everyone else. At the end of the boardwalk, he sits on a box, facing away from the ocean, and laces his fingers in front of his face.

Kilo Staples thinks of Compton.

“Jesus Christ, homie, what the hell happened to you?!”

Kilo is 17 years old and is sitting on the front step of a dilapidated house. His right eye is swollen shut, and he is covered head to toes in ugly, red and yellow bruises. “... you should see the other guy.”

“Ah, shit man, again?!” says the skinny boy, sitting down on the step next to Kilo. He is around the same age as him, but shorter. His features are a mix of black and Hispanic, his body scrawny and awkward. “What the hell happened this time?”

“... Nothin.”

“Bullshit! Don’t dance with me, motherfucka, you look like shit! What happened?”

The young Kilo exhales in frustration, “... They tried to take my fucking books again, ok?”

“Oh Jesus, again?! Man, I don’t get why you care about some old white guys said 3000 years ago!”

At this, Kilo turns to face the boy, outraged. “Cicero was not just ‘some old white guy’, Kish! He was the consul of the fuckin’ Roman Empire! You don’t think he had important shit to say?!”

“Man, I don’t care what sorta games he was playin’, he been dead for ages! What’s he know about the world now?”

“Consul! Consul, not console, ya dumbass. And if you actually read any history, you’d know that being dead don’t mean you can’t teach somethin’!” Kilo says.

“Man, whatever.” The pair fall into silence. After a moment, Kish speaks up, “You know why they always on yo back, right man? The gangs. Why ya gotta keep showin’ them disrespect? It don’t take much. Just do what they ask every now and then, you know?”

“I’m NOT joining their gang, Kish. I won’t. Those bastards, they destroy they put they hands on, you understand. I ain’t gettin’ involved with them, no matter what. Ya dig?”

“Nah, man, I don’t dig! You say you don’t wanna get involved, but you always showin’ up when they call you out!”

“I’m not scared of them. I want ‘em to know that… They want us to think they the good guys. They want us thinking they gonna protect the neighbourhood from the cops, lift us up. Even when most of the shit they do is robbin’ and killin’ people in the community. They want us thinkin’ they’re the only choice we got! Well, fuck that! I’m not going along with that shit.”

Kilo rubs his face, exasperated. “Kilo, I get it. I really do! But help a guy out here… when they see me hangin’ out wit you, they think I’m the same way…”

“It ain’t my fault you tryin’ to be pals with everybody, Kish. You free to go anytime you like, homie,” Kilo declares sullenly.

“Hey!” Kish shouts, gripping him by his shoulder. “Don’t--!!”

“OWW!!” Kilo shouts as Kish grabs him right on a bruised spot.

“Ah SHIT, S-sorry!” he releases him quickly. “You good!?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Kilo answers, rubbing his shoulder.

For a while, there’s silence once more. Until Kish speaks again. “H-hey man… don’t even joke about shit like that…”

“What?...”

“...I ain’t going anywhere,” Kish replies, looking into his eyes. “You and me, we friends for life. Right?”

Kilo awkwardly meets Kish’s gaze. After a moment, a smile forms across his lips. “Right,” he says finally. Kish smiles back and stands up, offering his hand. Kilo takes it and is helped up. Together they start walking.

His name was Kish Vincente, and he was beloved by all. This was the truth in Kilo’s eyes, although the form of this love was different. Among regular people, elderly women and store owners, he was doted on like a son or grandson. Among the thugs and gangsters that regularly harassed Kilo, he was akin to family. The butt of all jokes, endearing and not especially tough. Because of this, Kish was never scouted to join any gang, being seen as too weak for the life of violence and crime.

Kilo was the only one who understood what Kish really was. He was someone who believed. In himself, in others, in the world. He was someone with a power that Kilo himself lacked.

Kilo Staples, who killed his mother by coming into the world. Kilo Staples, whose own father made an attempt on his son’s life, and was shipped to a prison, never to be seen again.

The anger and bitterness made him a prime target for recruitment into a criminal street gang. But despite the darkness in his life, he always refused. He saw the gangs as an evil that would destroy everyone they touched. That was the real reason he found himself in fights so often. The perceived disrespect of refusing their recruitment.

Throughout his life, these thoughts twisted inside of Kilo, like worms crawling in his head. It was a mental strain upon him, a burden only remedied when he was with his friend. It was not so much a need for a distraction, but the end result of being around someone he truly appreciated. It was the only time of the day Kilo Staples truly felt happy to be alive. These were the best of days.

These were the days that came to an end, however, when a dark blue car turns the corner ahead of Kilo and Kish. His friend cries out a warning as the car pulls up next to them and the doors fly open, but it’s too late. Four men step out of the vehicle. Two of them grab Kish, and Kilo rushes to his aid. A hard fist cracks across his jaw and the world thuds into darkness…

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #achtung attitude #kilo staples #kish vincente #ch14

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colette-assaf · 5 years

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4th Sunday, Year C. 3rd February, A.D. 2019, St Dominic’s, Flemington

Saint Luke in his Gospel records various reactions to Our Lord’s appearance in the synagogue of Nazareth, His home-town. At first, some were pleased and impressed by His eloquence; but others were jealous of the miracles He had done for others and not done for them, His own folk, in His own village. Already the mystery of the Lord’s Cross begins to appear – opposition and anger and outright denial of His claims.

By the grace of God, we believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. Every Sunday we hear something of what Jesus said and did – and we do not doubt its accuracy. Sometimes a saying or parable may be hard to understand, or hard to follow, but we do not doubt that the Lord said it, and that there is a message for us. It is good to be reminded of how well-founded is the teaching enshrined in the Four Gospels. They are documents inspired by the Holy Spirit – containing the Word of God, a major part – the most important part – of the Holy Bible. But to bolster our faith, it is good to know that even as ordinary historical documents, they are trustworthy historical accounts.

The following is based on “Apologetics” by Archbishop M. Sheehan, chapter 5:

A work must be accepted as historical, or, in other words, as a faithful narrative of past events: (1) if it is genuine, that is, if it is the work of the one said to be the author; (2) if its author is trustworthy, which means he was well-informed and truthful; (3) if it is intact, if the text is as the author wrote it – not changed or mutilated. – All these conditions are fulfilled in the case of the New Testament writings.

When were the Gospels written? I am sure some people would say, “Hundreds of years after Christ – that’s why they contain exaggerations and made-up stories.” False! The first three Gospels were written within the lifetime of those who had seen and known Christ. As we know, the Gospels were authored by Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They were placed in that order from the first centuries, because that was the order of their writing. St Matthew probably wrote first; St Mark probably wrote between 50 and 60 A.D.; St Luke, some time before the year 60. As Our Lord died about the year 33 A.D., these three Gospels were written when everyone remembered what had happened. The Evangelists could not have fabricated stories and sayings, even if they wanted to. St John’s Gospel, written last, supplements the accounts of the other three, reporting speeches and miracles not mentioned by the others.

Were the authors well-informed? They show their complete familiarity with the religion and customs of the Jewish people. They were contemporaries, or in close touch with contemporaries, of the events they narrate: Modern scholarship has failed to detect any error on the part of the Evangelists in the countless references to geography and to the political, social, and religious conditions of Palestine at the time of Christ. Archaeological discoveries in the 20th century have all confirmed the truth of the Gospel accounts.

They knew the facts: Matthew and John had been companions of Christ for three years. Mark and Luke had lived in constant contact with His contemporaries. The vividness and detail of the narrative can only spring from personal contact with the events recorded.

So, they could have written a truthful account – but did they?

Were the Four Evangelists trustworthy? The answer is Yes: because they knew the facts and truthfully recorded them. They were honest people:

- Their holy lives, and their sufferings in witnessing to the truths set forth in their Gospels guarantee their sincerity.

- They had nothing to gain but everything to lose by testifying to the sanctity and the Divinity of Christ.

- They could not have been untruthful, even if they wanted to: they wrote for contemporaries of the events they narrate, or for people who had known those contemporaries, and could not have got away with a false account.

- They could not have invented their portrait of Christ. His unique character so noble, so lovable, so inspiring, so original, is quite beyond the inventive capacity of such men. The Evangelists Matthew, Mark and John, like every Jew of their day, believed that the Messiah would come to restore the kingdom of David. Not one of them ever dreamt, before Christ’s appearance, that He would come to found a spiritual kingdom, to preach meekness, humility, and brotherly love, and to live a life of poverty and persecution, culminating in the agony of the Cross.

But did anyone tamper with the texts of the Gospels? Are they the same as they were written? As soon as they were written, the Gospels were spread by the Apostles and missionaries all over the Roman Empire & beyond, to the newly founded Christian communities. Within a few decades the Gospels were all over the Greek-speaking world. From the earliest times, the Gospels were read at Sunday Mass. It would have been impossible to change the text – because there were copies of the Gospels everywhere, and translations too. Today, when we compare all the surviving ancient manuscripts, we see the differences between them are tiny. There are copying mistakes; but substantially, the text of all four Gospels is the same.

The Gospels pass the tests of authenticity and reliability far beyond all other ancient literature. Writers such as Plato and Aristotle, Julius Caesar and Cicero, were popular and often copied and spread around – but nowhere near the number of copies made of the Gospels. The Four Gospels were – and are – the most quoted, most copied, most read and most diffused of all literature of ancient times. Whoever would dismiss the New Testament must logically reject all written sources of ancient history and literature.

But did Christ really perform all those miracles? The Lord’s miracles cannot be explained away. They were performed in public, before friends and enemies. The miracles of Christ were so frequent, the witnesses so numerous, and the evidence so stark, that not even Christ’s enemies disputed the fact of their occurrence. Instead, they ascribed them to the power of the devil, or defied Him to perform another one in His own favour. Many of both the beneficiaries and the eye-witnesses of Christ’s miracles were alive for decades after the miracles themselves, and stood as living proofs and witnesses to their occurrence. Following Lazarus’ raising from the dead, for example, there would have been people alive for decades afterwards, who attended his burial and saw him emerge alive from the tomb, long after his well-attended first funeral. Some of them might have gone to his second funeral!

Faith is a gift from God. We believe because we have received this gift. At the same time, faith is reasonable, and never contrary to reason. Our religion is God-given but is also about a historical reality, attested to by honest and reliable eye-witnesses: the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Let us rejoice in the authenticity of our religion and its sources; let us thank God for showing us how well-founded is our faith. Thanks be to God for putting us in touch with this historical reality, giving us a true hope in this life, and the assurance of a heavenly destiny. 

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brookstonalmanac · 2 years

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Events 12.5

63 BC – Cicero gives the fourth and final of the Catiline Orations. 633 – Fourth Council of Toledo takes place. 1082 – Ramon Berenguer II, Count of Barcelona is assassinated. 1408 – Emir Edigu of Golden Horde reaches Moscow. 1484 – Pope Innocent VIII issues the Summis desiderantes affectibus, a papal bull that deputizes Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger as inquisitors to root out alleged witchcraft in Germany. 1492 – Christopher Columbus becomes the first European to set foot on the island of Hispaniola (now Haiti and the Dominican Republic). 1496 – King Manuel I of Portugal issues a decree ordering the expulsion of Jewish "heretics" from the country. 1560 – Charles IX becomes king of France. 1578 – Sir Francis Drake, after sailing through Strait of Magellan raids Valparaiso. 1649 – The town of Raahe (Swedish: Brahestad) was founded by Count Per Brahe the Younger. 1757 – Seven Years' War: Battle of Leuthen: Frederick II of Prussia leads Prussian forces to a decisive victory over Austrian forces under Prince Charles Alexander of Lorraine. 1766 – In London, auctioneer James Christie holds his first sale. 1775 – At Fort Ticonderoga, Henry Knox begins his historic transport of artillery to Cambridge, Massachusetts. 1776 – Phi Beta Kappa, the oldest academic honor society in the U.S., holds its first meeting at the College of William & Mary. 1831 – Former U.S. President John Quincy Adams takes his seat in the House of Representatives. 1847 – Jefferson Davis is elected to the U.S. Senate. 1848 – California Gold Rush: In a message to the United States Congress, U.S. President James K. Polk confirms that large amounts of gold had been discovered in California. 1865 – Chincha Islands War: Peru allies with Chile against Spain. 1895 – New Haven Symphony Orchestra of Connecticut performs its first concert. 1931 – Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow is destroyed on orders from Joseph Stalin. 1933 – The Twenty-first Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified. 1934 – Abyssinia Crisis: Italian troops attack Wal Wal in Abyssinia, taking four days to capture the city. 1935 – Mary McLeod Bethune founds the National Council of Negro Women in New York City. 1936 – The Soviet Union adopts a new constitution and the Kirghiz Soviet Socialist Republic is established as a full Union Republic of the USSR. 1941 – World War II: In the Battle of Moscow, Georgy Zhukov launches a massive Soviet counter-attack against the German army. 1941 – World War II: Great Britain declares war on Finland, Hungary and Romania. 1943 – World War II: Allied air forces begin attacking Germany's secret weapons bases in Operation Crossbow. 1945 – Flight 19, a group of TBF Avengers, disappears in the Bermuda Triangle. 1952 – Beginning of the Great Smog in London. A cold fog combines with air pollution and brings the city to a standstill for four days. Later, a Ministry of Health report estimates 4,000 fatalities as a result of it. 1955 – The American Federation of Labor and the Congress of Industrial Organizations merge and form the AFL–CIO. 1955 – E. D. Nixon and Rosa Parks lead the Montgomery bus boycott. 1958 – Subscriber Trunk Dialling (STD) is inaugurated in the United Kingdom by Queen Elizabeth II when she speaks to the Lord Provost in a call from Bristol to Edinburgh. 1958 – The Preston By-pass, the UK's first stretch of motorway, opens to traffic for the first time. (It is now part of the M6 and M55 motorways.) 1964 – Vietnam War: For his heroism in battle earlier in the year, Captain Roger Donlon is awarded the first Medal of Honor of the war. 1964 – Lloyd J. Old discovers the first linkage between the major histocompatibility complex (MHC) and disease—mouse leukemia—opening the way for the recognition of the importance of the MHC in the immune response. 1971 – Battle of Gazipur: Pakistani forces stand defeated as India cedes Gazipur to Bangladesh. 1977 – Egypt breaks diplomatic relations with Syria, Libya, Algeria, Iraq and South Yemen. The move is in retaliation for the Declaration of Tripoli against Egypt. 1983 – Dissolution of the Military Junta in Argentina. 1991 – Leonid Kravchuk is elected the first president of Ukraine. 1995 – Sri Lankan Civil War: Sri Lanka's government announces the conquest of the Tamil stronghold of Jaffna. 2004 – The Civil Partnership Act comes into effect in the United Kingdom, and the first civil partnership is registered there. 2005 – The 6.8 Mw  Lake Tanganyika earthquake shakes the eastern provinces of the Democratic Republic of the Congo with a maximum Mercalli intensity of X (Extreme), killing six people. 2006 – Commodore Frank Bainimarama overthrows the government in Fiji. 2007 – Westroads Mall shooting: Nineteen-year-old Robert A. Hawkins kills nine people, including himself, with a WASR-10 at a Von Maur department store in Omaha, Nebraska. 2013 – Militants attack a Defense Ministry compound in Sana'a, Yemen, killing at least 56 people and injuring 200 others. 2014 – Exploration Flight Test 1, the first flight test of Orion, is launched. 2017 – The International Olympic Committee bans Russia from competing at the 2018 Winter Olympics for doping at the 2014 Winter Olympics.

#Events

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msclaritea · 6 years

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~Sherlock's Own Jerusalem~

..The Great Game, A Sonnet & Bus Number 14

In the story The Great Game, our two heroes are about to incur the wrath of moriarty-as-two-faced-god. He was in fact the 'Janus Figure' in Who's Vermeer Is This? and has laid his plans to lure our men into a showdown.

Sherlock and John have a little domestic. It seems they weren't seeing eye to eye on things. Sherlock felt very misunderstood by John, on his blog. It seems that Sherlock doesn't give a flying fig about the Solar System. Go figure.

"Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?"

Which John just finds totally weird.

Queue Sherlock sulking and John 'getting some air'. But throughout the various cases, during this time, John shows how invaluable he is, following up leads, laid out by Janus, gathering important evidence; even enduring a painful interview with Mycroft. He had indeed become Sherlock's second sight; his other half.

Following some long, arduous hours of investigating, after pushing John in all different directions, Sherlock spies a bus with the number 14, out of the taxi window, and remembers his Shakespeare; something that was quite fitting for this particular moment.

And Sherlock attempts to tell John how important he is to him. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

“I thought you didn’t care about things like that.”

"Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.

(They walk into the Arches.)Sonnet 14...a paraphrase.

"I do not receive my knowledge or make my decisions by the stars; though I have enough training in astrology to do so, I cannot predict good luck or bad, Or plagues, or famine, or the weather; Nor can I say what will happen at any given moment in our daily lives,

Alloting to each man his thunder, rain, and wind [i.e., he cannot foretell our personal troubles], Or even tell princes if things will go well for them, By frequent omens that I see in the heavens:

But from your eyes alone do I derive my knowledge, And they are my constant stars, in which I read such art (gain such knowledge)that I see truth and beauty will live together in harmony, If you would only turn your focus from yourself to creating a child; or else this is my prophecy: that truth and beauty will all end when you die."

Because for Sherlock, #Johnwatsonlives means #Sherlocklives

And as Sherlock and John pass through several open gateways, moving deeper into the dark temple of Janus, not heeding the sign on the wall, saying the WAY OUT was backwards, they have already made up their minds that they are, in fact a team...

...As Sherlock begins his battle with Janus, for John, and for himself.

When Christ Came To England

Fun Fact: In the Bus #14 pic above, there is a large shot of a Michael Jackson sign, with the word Thriller. Also, a popular play, Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth. The play makes frequent allusions to William Blake's lyrics to the song "Jerusalem", from which its title is derived. The poem was inspired by the apocryphal story that a young Jesus, accompanied by Joseph of Arimathea, a tin merchant, travelled to what is now England and visited Glastonbury during his unknown years.The Christian church in general, and the English Church in particular, has long used. Jerusalem as a metaphor for Heaven, a place of universal love and peace.

In the most common interpretation of the poem, Blake implies that a visit by Jesus would briefly create heaven in England, in contrast to the "dark Satanic Mills" of the Industrial Revolution.

Jerusalem

And did those feet in ancient time, Walk upon England's mountains green: And was the holy Lamb of God, On England's pleasant pastures seen! And did the Countenance Divine, Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold; Bring me my Arrows of desire: Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold! Bring me my Chariot of fire! I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand: Till we have built Jerusalem, In England's green & pleasant Land.

Beneath the poem Blake inscribed a quotation from the Bible: �� "Would to God that all the Lords people were Prophets" Numbers XI.ch 29.v.

The original text is found in the preface Blake wrote for inclusion with Milton, a Poem, following the lines beginning "The Stolen and Perverted Writings of Homer & Ovid: of Plato & Cicero. Blake lived in London for most of his life, but wrote much of Milton while living in the village of Felpham in Sussex! *An extract of the hymn was heard in the 2013 Doctor Who episode "The Crimson Horror" although that story was set in 1893, i.e., before Parry's arrangement.

Dedicated to The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face from @ebaeschnbliah and The Sonnets johns-lament-sonnet-58 59-the-cycle-of-life & irene-the-baker-st-venus My Romantic series.

Tags under cut

@shylockgnomes @sherlockshadow @theragesniff @shag-me-senseless-Watson @darlingtonsubstitution @just-sort-of-happened @gosherlocked @may-shepard @monikakrasnorada @possiblyimbiassed @sarahthecoat @loveismyrevolution @fellshish @finalproblem @brilliantorinsane @let-bijohns-be-bi-johns @sherlockspeare @rqnarok @88thparallel @artfulkindoforder @artemisastarte @eveningsoother @simpleanddestructivechemistry

#sonnet 14 #Shakespeare No Fear #The Great Game #The Two-Faced God Janus #It's Never Twins #The Solar System #When Christ Came To England #Sherlock's Jerusalem Meta #the first time ever i saw your face #Sussex!#William Blake #Milton #Dr Who #The Crimson Horror

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artsynanotech · 6 years

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Another Damn Murder Mystery, Part 3: ...

I can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried so hard to keep my head down, to not make trouble, to make my sire proud of me. All I want is to be left alone with my family and my art. But no matter what I do things keep going wrong, and when I try to fix them I just make them worse…

At least Sarah is safe. I saw her off on a train a few nights ago. I made her a budget for the new life she’s starting, and if she sticks to it she should be okay. I even managed to hang out with her for a bit. She and Ares and I had a night in, playing board games and watching terrible movies. She introduced Ares and I to this one called “The Room,” and it was so hilariously bad I almost forgot how terrible my life is. Part of me wishes I’d gone with her. In the end there was nothing I could do for Caroline. She was convicted of Hooper’s murder and sentenced to a century of forced wassail, locked in a secluded cell in the basement of Elysium. And it was all my fault! I’m the one who said we should tell Bethany what happened, before we got even further in over our heads. And if it weren’t for some last minute intervention from the Tremere then Michella would be locked in that cell too. God, I was stupid. I thought if we came clean about the murder, especially given how Caroline wasn’t even herself when she did it, then we’d be able to save her. I should have known better than to trust any of the people who run this city. Even Bethany, who’s actually reasonable, can’t do much when all her peers are rotten.

Bethany says saying those things counts as treason, but honestly I stopped caring about the Camarilla when Maxwell called that blood hunt on me. He doesn’t care about the truth, or due diligence, or anything like that. Passing judgement on Amelia, myself, Xavier, and now Caroline, all of it was done without verifying evidence, or any using any effort to try and look past his own preconceptions. At Caroline’s trial he straight up admitted he didn’t care if there were any extenuating circumstances. If it weren’t for Isaac and Michella I’d give up on this city entirely. But I can’t leave them, especially now that Michella and I are the only ones left of our coterie. Michella needs me. I’m not going to abandon her.

Given that Michella and I are the only ones who really care about the truth of what happened to Caroline, I’ll write it down one more time so it won’t get lost forever: According to Michella’s sire, Caroline most likely did feed on a werewolf. After she woke up in that parking garage her disciplines starting working above and beyond what they normally do, and her blood was buffing her strength without her actually telling it to do so. She’d been having nightmares as well. I remember reading one of my grandsire’s books and seeing that Gangrel used to hunt wolves who were on the cusp of transforming for the first time, specifically for that power boost. But if they didn’t know what they were doing, or weren’t strong enough to contain it, it’d result in a frenzy so powerful the conscious mind of the kindred wouldn’t be aware of anything. That was what Caroline went through. Her beast was mad with rage and lashed out at the first thing she saw: Hooper.

In short, the entire situation was the result of a miserable coincidence. There was no way Caroline could have known what she was biting, and had it not been for that... well I’d call the whole thing an accident before I called it murder. But the long and short of it is that Caroline’s gone. Not forever, but who knows what person will come out of that cell in a hundred years’ time? I tried looking into other scenarios, like someone setting Caroline up. It turns out that Hooper and Sash were trying to switch coteries; they’d been working for a gangrel named Cicero and wanted to leave, so I thought perhaps he’d retaliated against them and used Caroline as a patsy. I went to talk to the man Hooper had been trying to defect to, a ventrue named Saul, but in the end he couldn’t help me. He offered to forge evidence for us, but he wanted us to work for him in return, and I’m not going to swear myself to anyone at this point. Especially not this guy. He said he wanted the entire coterie in his pocket, but his real interest seems to lie in me, and it is… distressingly sexual. He’s also the one who sent the creepy guy to tail Ricardo.

Christ, why did I even bother? I can’t help anyone without sending the entire situation to hell. How many lives has my presence ruined? Or ended? Gary, Wretchid, Xavier, Caroline… Oh, and Charlotte too. I thought I could protect her by keeping her ghouled after Xavier’s death, but it just made her blood addiction worse. So now I have to deal with that too.

And lastly, as if all of this wasn’t enough, Bethany’s ordered me to break up with Ares. I told her he helped try to find out what happened to Caroline and she said enough was enough. Apparently that’s too close to breaking the Camarilla/Giovanni treaty for her liking. Christ, I am sick of these politics! As I said before, the Camarilla really isn’t making a strong case for itself at this point. But what would my other options be? Running away with Ares and relying on the Giovanni for protection? Even I’m not that stupid. I am going to start limiting my time with Ares until the fallout surrounding Caroline blows over, but it’s not for Bethany’s sake or anyone else’s. It’s just to keep Ares and me safe. If no one thinks we’re together then no one will harass us about it. There’s so much more that I should write down, but what does it matter? I’m done. If anyone needs me they can find me in my studio. But they’d better have a damn good reason.

#IC #Session recap

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usablogs · 5 years

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Happy Easter Images 2019, Easter Pictures, Easter Wallpaper, Photos, Pics Free Download For Facebook

Happy Easter Images 2019 :- Hello friends welcome to this most beautiful page. This page is all about Happy Easter Images 2019. Easter is celebrated in all over the 🌍. In this page I am sharing Happy Easter Images 2019 with you. Easter will be celebrated on 21st April 2019 This Year. Easter has no fix date to 🙌. So that’s why all are saying this a moveable festival. Easter is probably comes on Sunday every year in April or March end. This is the day when everyone is wishing Happy Easter to their family and friends. The death and resurrection of Jesus, an example of resurrection, is the central focus of Christianity. So 🙌 Easter is provide us inspiration to start a new life, inspire us to restart life. Easter comes with the blessings of Jesus.

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🙌 his resurrection with

complete cheer, For He came back

to life to ease our fear.

That’s the promise of Easter.

Have a Happy Easter!

I am within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever were built, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this 🌍 as powerfully as has that One Solitary Life.

~James C. Hefley

There is only one secure foundation: a genuine, deep relationship with Jesus Christ, which will carry you through any and all turmoil. No matter what storms are raging all around, you’ll stand firm if you stand on His 💛.

-Charles Stanley

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May Jesus Christ bless you and your family with abundant happiness and inner ✌️. Have a Blessed Easter.

This is the day to sharing and spreading 💛 all around the 🌍. Everyone is 🙌 Happy Easter with their family and friends. All people are making plans for 🙌 Happy Easter. in different styles. But most famous is all your activities on social sites. Because all our friends are active on social sites. Our social id’s activities are representing us among the 🌍.

sweet spring is your

time is my time is our

time for springtime is lovetime

and viva sweet 💛

-E. E. Cummings

There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void: Thou - Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

~ Emily Bronte

I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are very wise and very beautiful; but I never read in either of them: “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden.”

~Augustine

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May Jesus Christ bless you and your family with abundant happiness and inner ✌️. Have a Blessed Easter.

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No one can read the Gospels without feeling the actual presence of Jesus. His personality pulsates in every word. No myth is filled with such life.

~Albert Einstein

The great 🎁 of Easter is hope - Christian hope which makes us have that confidence in God, in his ultimate triumph, and in his goodness and 💛, which nothing can shake.

-Basil Hume

“Life is so utterly enraptured with beginnings that it can do little else than perpetually create space for them. And those spaces are what we call endings.”

― Craig D. Lounsbrough

Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty 🌍.

-Victor Kraft

I think of the garden after the 🌧️; And hope to my 💛 comes singing, At morn the 🍒-blooms will be white, And the Easter bells be ringing!

~ Edna Dean Proctor

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“Forgive them father, for they no not what they do”. He died so that we can live again. 🙌 his 💛 this Easter Day!

All heaven is interested in the cross of Christ, all hell terribly 😨 of it, while men are the only beings who more or less ignore its meaning.

~Oswald Chambers

“Why don’t they make 🍫 horses for Easter with a belly full of gummy bears. Educational and sweet!”

― Neil Leckman

Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come.

-Robert H. Schuller

Happy Easter to you and your family as we 🙌 our Father’s greatest sacrifice through his Son, Jesus Christ. Have a blessed Easter.

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It’s not about the 🐇, eggs, or even dressing up for ⛪. It’s about the hope that we have because there was an empty tomb.

Easter is a time of reflection and joy. When we emerge from our cocoon of doubt to fly freely on the wings of faith.

I wish you a very happy Easter!

Christ the Lord is risen today, Sons of men and angels say. Raise your joys and triumphs high; sing, ye heavens, and 🌍 reply.

Charles Wesley

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Easter says you can put truth in a grave, but it won’t stay there.

~ Clarence W. Hall.

The biggest fact about Joseph’s tomb was that it wasn’t a tomb at all – it was a room for a transient. Jesus just stopped there…on His way back to glory.

~Herbert Booth Smith

The stone was rolled away from the 🚪, not to permit Christ to come out, but to enable the disciples to go in.

~Peter Marshall

At one time I smoked, but in 1959 I couldn’t think of anything else to give up for Lent so I stopped - and I haven’t had a 🚬 since.

-Ethel Merman

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Our Mother 🌍, Our Father Sky

embraces our happiness and laughter

Praise be to freedom and life’s seasons

Praise be to Christ’s freedom song”

― Ramon Ravenswood, Twilight Zone Encounters

God bless your home

with happiness and unwavering faith this Easter.

May all of your dreams and wishes come true.

May the day that God has resurrected bring you happiness, 💛 and joy.

Have a fulfilling and joyful Easter!

May Jesus Christ bless you and your family with abundant happiness and inner ✌️. Have a Blessed Easter.

I hope you enjoy the beautiful journey of these Happy Easter Images 2019 and Wishes. If you like these Happy Easter Images and Wishes than share on facebook, twitter. whatsapp, telegram, instagram, pinterest and other social sites. And Wish Happy Easter to your family and friends. Thanks for visiting and wish you again a very Happy Easter 2019.

#happy easter images #happy easter pictures #happy easter wallpapers #happy easter pics #happy easter photos

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whosoever-in-christ-blog · 7 years

Text

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. “Pooh!” he whispered. “Yes, Piglet?” “Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.” — A. A. Milne No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and His love is made complete in us. — 1 John 4:12 I grabbed my canvas book bag, slung it over my shoulder, and headed out of my dormitory to trudge across campus to the library, where a few students and I were gathering that windy autumn afternoon to work on our assignment for Philosophy 200. (I may have had an extra spring in my step because a cute new student named Todd Ehman would be there — and I might have a chance to sit next to him!) The project that day included thinking through and coming up with what the professor in our small Christian college called our summum bonum. Summum bonum is a Latin expression meaning “the highest good.” It was introduced by Cicero to parallel the “Idea of the Good” in ancient Greek philosophy. The summum bonum is commonly referred to as an end in itself that also encompasses all other goods in life. In medieval times the phrase was used to describe the act of ultimate importance — that singular and paramount pursuit that human beings should strive to do. Our professor gave us several examples of what someone might choose as their highest good in life. Perhaps it was God. Or family. Or caring for the poor. There really was no correct answer. It was up to us to prayerfully consider the assignment and then present our case for what was most significant to each of us and why, gathering in small groups to explain our choice. As I sat in the library fiddling with my number two pencil, I tried to think of what I would choose as my summum bonum to share with the group. What was most important to me in life? What did I think was the highest good — the chief pursuit that mattered more than anything else? I decided I would choose relationships. Even at my young age I had already heard many people say how when we pass away, we cannot take anything with us. And I remembered my spiritual mother’s assertion that the only two reasons we are on Earth are to have a relationship with God and to show others the way of salvation through Jesus. Their comments showed me that things were less important than people. Certainly what was most precious to me were my family, my close friends, and my fellow brothers and sisters at the church I’d attended in the three years I had been a believer. It wasn’t hard for me to write a paper asserting that what mattered most in life is relationships. So I whipped out a canary-yellow legal pad and began to scratch out my thesis and main points, determined to make the argument that nothing in life mattered more than people. Nothing. That philosophy assignment was decades ago, but I still believe that nothing in life matters more than relationships. And the longer I am on this Earth, the more convinced I am that it’s true. Why Am I Here? One of the oldest questions known to humans might very well be, “Why am I here?” Something deep within us longs to know the meaning of life. Is there a point to it? And if so, what is it? Where do I fit in the grand scheme of things? And if I am on Earth for a purpose, how do I find it? We simply do not want to go through life having missed our cause and calling. Pastor Rick Warren tackled this topic in his bestselling book The Purpose Driven Life, subtitled What on Earth Am I Here For? In just the first five years after the book released, it sold over thirty million copies. Thirty million people wanted to know their purpose for being on Earth! Warren’s book was his attempt to lay out the biblical perspective on why we exist. Society, of course, has its own answers to this question. One answer is to grab all the gusto we can. After all, we only go around once, right? We might as well live it up and accumulate all of the material possessions or memorable experiences that we can. Just look at some of the popular hashtags in social media. #yolo stands for “you only live once.” People use this phrase to justify some of their outlandish or crazy behavior. (Perhaps even some illegal behavior as well!) And #fomo reminds us of our “fear of missing out.” After all, we don’t want to be left behind. Interestingly, for all of social media’s frequent illustrations of people’s narcissism and selfishness, it also gives us glimpses of true acts of kindness and episodes of thoughtfulness. The articles, pictures, and videos associated with such benevolent behaviors often go viral. Just today I saw the following stories trending on social media: A police officer who used his own money to buy a homeless family clothes, food, and a ten-night stay in a local hotel A social worker who decided to adopt one of her clients, a teenager who had been in foster care for over a decade A customer who gave a four-digit tip to a faithful waitress so she could pay down some of her college debt While many of us may be self-centered and care too much about material possessions or glamorous experiences, we also celebrate selfless acts of kindness and care for other humans. (And animals. I mean, who doesn’t love a great animal rescue story!) What does this tell us? Perhaps we all experience a tension between the selfishness of what we want to do and the appeal of the truly heartwarming and touching stories of kindness we see. We long to live unselfishly as well, but sometimes we are just too accustomed to our self-centered living. Or we think that our small acts of kindness don’t add up to much, while the grand ones we spy online seem to make a real difference. Or maybe we have just been conditioned from birth to think of ourselves first; our default mode is to look out for number one. Perhaps if we paid closer attention to why our hearts are drawn to such stories, we’d discover it is because we are called not only to view them online but to live them out in our own lives as well! A Three-Step Life Plan Of course Jesus gave us the answer not only to why we are here but what we are supposed to do while we’re here. Take a look at how He answered a tough question a religious leader asked Him, and what His answer teaches us about our why and our what: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” — Matthew 22:36-40 Jesus asserts that the entire teaching of God — all the law and the prophets — hinge upon these commands, which can be summed up in this three-step life plan: 1. Love God. 2. Love others. 3. Love yourself. Relationships. Relationships. And more relationships. Why are we here? To love. What are we supposed to do? Again: love. God, others, and even self. When I became a Christian, I read the command to love yourself and thought it was strange. I thought surely the Christian thing to do was to think very little of ourselves. The concept of loving myself was very foreign. But when I followed Jesus’ line of logic, I came to a different conclusion. If Jesus told us we are to love our neighbor “as ourselves,” then it must be crucial that we do indeed possess self-love. If we put ourselves down or neglect our most basic physical or emotional needs, we would not be a good model for how we are to treat our fellow human beings. Slowly my understanding of this verse began to change. How do we love ourselves? Well, we make sure that we have enough to eat. We take care to see that we have clothes to wear. We make sure we are sheltered. We seek self-respect and safety, security, and significance. We nurture our important relationships. And then we realize that these are the same things we should make sure our neighbor has. When we love ourselves, we can see that God calls us to love others in the same way. Still, it can be difficult to strike a balance. Sometimes we think too little of ourselves. Other times we may think of ourselves too much, leaving very little time to reach out and to love others. How can we properly address both problems at the same time: the problem of self-loathing and the problem of self-love? The answer lies within the passage we have just visited. Look back at what Jesus declares is the greatest commandment of all: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. — Matthew 22:37 Learning to manage the tension between putting ourselves first and thinking of the needs of others happens when we put loving God at the very top of our “How to Live” list. If we truly love God with our hearts and souls and minds, we will want to get to know Him through the pages of Scripture. We will long to spend time with Him in prayer. We will hunger to get to know His heart and mind as we seek to discover His will for our lives. And as we interact with God through prayer and experience His heart through studying the Scriptures, we will learn how to live properly. We will learn that thinking of ourselves with a proper perspective and reaching out in love to others always go together. And when we live in this manner, we will be able to maintain the purpose I learned as a young Christian: to go about our days strengthening our relationship with God as we look forward to eternity, but also being on the lookout for ways to share Christ with others so that they may spend eternity in Heaven with Him as well. All of this takes place within the context of relationships. Perhaps I got my little philosophy assignment correct. Maybe relationships are the highest good in life — with others here on Earth, but most importantly with God.

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Thanksgiving Quotes

Official Website: Thanksgiving Quotes

• A basic law: the more you practice the art of thankfulness, the more you have to be thankful for. – Norman Vincent Peale • A lot of Thanksgiving days have been ruined by not carving the turkey in the kitchen. – Kin Hubbard • A thankful heart is not only the greatest virtue but the parent of all the other virtues. – Marcus Tullius Cicero • All across America, we gather this week with the people we love to give thanks to God for the blessings in our lives. – George W. Bush • All that I see teaches me to thank the Creator for all I cannot see. – Henrietta Mears • Always expect the unexpected. Right around Thanksgiving, when the new Alex Cross will be out. It’s called Four Blind Mice and it’s a pretty amazing story about several murders inside the military. – James Patterson • An optimist is a person who starts a new diet on Thanksgiving Day. – Irv Kupcinet • And though I ebb in worth, I’ll flow in thanks. – John Taylor Ann Voskamp • Anything I cannot thank God for for the sake of Christ, I may not thank God for at all; to do so would be sin. … We cannot rightly acknowledge the gifts of God unless we acknowledge the Mediator for whose sake alone they are given to us. – Dietrich Bonhoeffer • As governor, when I visited our troops in Kuwait and Iraq, I served them Thanksgiving dinner. It was a small gesture compared to their sacrifice. – Jennifer Granholm • As much as I love crisp, clean whites, there’s always a time for rich but balanced Chardonnays with oak, especially at Thanksgiving. – Gary Vaynerchuk • As soon as someone tells me: ‘You’re rather sexy,’ I wish I could disappear. If somebody says: ‘You were voted the world’s sexiest man,’ I have no idea what that means. How do I respond? ‘Thank you’ is the best you can do. George Clooney is the world’s sexiest man, anyway. – Daniel Craig • At Thanksgiving, my mom always makes too much food, especially one item, like 700 or 800 pounds of sweet potatoes. She’s got to push it during the meal. “Did you get some sweet potatoes? There’s sweet potatoes. They’re hot. There’s more in the oven, some more in the garage. The rest are at the Johnson’s.”- Louie Anderson

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Thanksgiving', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_thanksgiving').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_thanksgiving img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Be present in all things and thankful for all things. – Maya Angelou • Be thankful for what you have; you’ll end up having more. – Oprah Winfrey Be thankful for what you have; you’ll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough. • Before you go out into the world, wash your face in the clear crystal of praise. Bury each yesterday in the fine linen and spices of thankfulness. – Charles Spurgeon • Christmas is more stressful with present buying and making sure everyone gets included, but Thanksgiving is really not that. I don’t ever really get stressed out about the food. – Sandra Lee • Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Dear Lord; we beg but one boon more: Peace in the hearts of all men living, peace in the whole world this Thanksgiving. – Joseph Auslander • Drink and be thankful to the host! What seems insignificant when you have it, is important when you need it. – Franz Grillparzer • Envy and greed starve on a steady diet of thanksgiving. – Billy Graham • Eucharisteo—thanksgiving—always precedes the miracle. – Ann Voskamp • Even though we’re a week and a half away from Thanksgiving, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.- Richard Roeper • Every day is a day to be thankful. Life’s abundance has no limit, and gratitude is what keeps that abundance flowing. In every circumstance there is something for which to be thankful. Even when there seems to be nothing else, there is hope.- Ralph Marston • Expressing gratitude for the miracles in your world is one of the best ways to make each moment of your life a special one. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones! – Wayne Dyer • For flowers that bloom about our feet; For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet; For song of bird, and hum of bee; For all things fair we hear or see, Father in heaven, we thank Thee! – Ralph Waldo Emerson • For three things I thank God every day of my life: thanks that he has vouchsafed me knowledge of his works; deep thanks that he has set in my darkness the lamp of faith; deep, deepest thanks that I have another life to look forward to–a life joyous with light and flowers and heavenly song.- Helen Keller • For what I have received may the Lord make me truly thankful. And more truly for what I have not received.- Storm Jameson • Forever on Thanksgiving Day the heart will find the pathway home. – Wilbur D. Nesbit • From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea. – Algernon Charles Swinburne • Giving thanks to God for both His temporal and spiritual blessings in our lives is not just a nice thing to do – it is the moral will of God. Failure to give Him the thanks due Him is sin. – Jerry Bridges • Gluttony and surfeiting are no proper occasions for thanksgiving. – Charles Lamb • God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say ‘thank you?’ – William Arthur Ward • God gives us our relatives – thank God we can choose our friends. – Addison Mizner • God has two dwellings; one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart. – Izaak Walton • God is glorified, not by our groans, but by our thanksgivings. – Edwin Percy Whipple • God is pleased with no music below so much as with the thanksgiving songs of relieved widows and supported orphans; of rejoicing, comforted, and thankful persons. – Jeremy Taylor • God smiles when we praise and thank Him continually. Few things feel better than receiving heartfelt praise and appreciation from someone else. God loves it, too. An amazing thing happens when we offer praise and thanksgiving to God. When we give God enjoyment, our own hearts are filled with joy. – William Law • Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.” – William Arthur Ward • Gratitude is the inward feeling of kindness received. Thankfulness is the natural impulse to express that feeling. Thanksgiving is the following of that impulse. – Henry Van Dyke • He that enjoys naught without thanksgiving is as though he robbed God. – Saint John Chrysostom • He who thanks but with the lips. Thanks but in part; the full, the true Thanksgiving. Comes from the heart. – John G. Shedd • How wonderful it would be if we could help our children and grandchildren to learn thanksgiving at an early age. Thanksgiving opens the doors. It changes a child’s personality. A child is resentful, negative, or thankful. Thankful children want to give, they radiate happiness, they draw people. – John Templeton • I absolutely adore Thanksgiving. It’s the only holiday I insist on making myself. – Ina Garten • I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. It is surprising how contented one can be with nothing definite – only a sense of existence. Well, anything for variety. – Henry David Thoreau • I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • I can only say thank you and thanks also to all of the great songwriters who wrote those wonderful songs that became number ones. – George Strait • I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land. – Jon Stewart • I do, therefore, invite my fellow citizens . . . to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.- Abraham Lincoln • I don’t think any other holiday embraces the food of the Midwest quite like Thanksgiving. There’s roasted meat and mashed potatoes. But being here is also about heritage. Cleveland is really a giant melting pot – not only is my family a melting pot, but so is the city. – Michael Symon • I have learned that in every circumstance that comes my way, I can choose to respond in one of two ways: I can whine or I can worship! And I can’t worship without giving thanks. It just isn’t possible. When we choose the pathway of worship and giving thanks, especially in the midst of difficult circumstances, there is a fragrance, a radiance, that issues forth out of our lives to bless the Lord and others. – Nancy Leigh DeMoss • I have nothing against turkey. We eat turkey for Thanksgiving in my house. – Marc Forgione • I have often met with happiness after some imprudent step which ought to have brought ruin upon me, and although passing a vote of censure upon myself I would thank God for his mercy. – Giacomo Casanova • I haven’t had that many weird encounters with fans, thank God. – Vin Diesel • I like to stuff myself at Thanksgiving, not turkeys. – Kevin Nealon • I love chicken. I would eat chicken fingers on Thanksgiving if it were socially acceptable.- Todd Barry • I love Halloween, trick or treating and decorating the house. And I love Thanksgiving, because of the football and the fall weather. And of course, I love Christmas – that’s my favorite of all! – Joe Nichols • I love Thanksgiving because it’s a holiday that is centered around food and family, two things that are of utmost importance to me. – Marcus Samuelsson • I love Thanksgiving turkey… It’s the only time in Los Angeles that you see natural breasts. – Arnold Schwarzenegger • I see the glass half full and thank God for what I have. – Ana Monnar • I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes. – e. e. cummings • I thought that all of the sacrifices and blessings of the whole history of mankind have devolved upon me. Thank you, God. – Ben Stein • I want to thank you for taking time out of your day to come and witness my hanging.- George W. Bush • I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • If a fellow isn’t thankful for what he’s got, he isn’t likely to be thankful for what he’s going to get. – Frank A. Clark • If I were ever to go mad it would be on Thanksgiving Day, that day of guilt and grace when the family hangs upon you like an ax over a sacrificial victim, like the oven’s heat on that poor bird.- Francine du Plessix Gray If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough. – Meister Eckhart • If you are really thankful, what do you do? You share. – W. Clement Stone • If you think about a Thanksgiving dinner, it’s really like making a large chicken. – Ina Garten • If you think Independence Day is America’s defining holiday, think again. Thanksgiving deserves that title, hands-down. – Tony Snow • I’m thankful for every moment.- Al Green In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.- Albert Schweitzer • In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices. – Elizabeth Gilbert • It has been an unchallengeable American doctrine that cranberry sauce, a pink goo with overtones of sugared tomatoes, is a delectable necessity of the Thanksgiving board and that turkey is uneatable without it. – Alistair Cooke • It is impossible to be negative while we are giving thanks. – Donald Curtis • It is now common knowledge that the average American gains 7 pounds between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day. – Marilu Henner • It is therefore recommended… to set apart Thursday the eighteenth day of December next, for solemn thanksgiving and praise, that with one heart and one voice the good people may express the grateful feelings of their hearts and consecrate themselves to the service of their divine benefactor.- Samuel Adams • It must be an odd feeling to be thankful to nobody in particular. Christians in public institutions often see this odd thing happening on Thanksgiving Day. Everyone in the institution seems to be thankful ‘in general.’ It’s very strange. It’s a little like being married in general. – Cornelius Plantinga • It would seem that the ingratitude, whereby a subsequent sin causes the return of sins previously forgiven, is a special sin. For, the giving of thanks belongs to counter passion, which is a necessary condition of justice. But justice is a special virtue. Therefore this ingratitude is a special sin. Thanksgiving is a special virtue. But ingratitude is opposed to thanksgiving. Therefore ingratitude is a special sin. – Thomas Aquinas • It’s a thanksgiving to God. It’s something I have wanted to do for a long time, but the record company wasn’t ready for it. So I did it myself. – Aaron Neville • Its better to pace yourself throughout a big day like Thanksgiving by having something healthful for breakfast and something light for lunch. – Marilu Henner • It’s like being at the kids’ table at Thanksgiving – you can put your elbows on it, you don’t have to talk politics… no matter how old I get, there’s always a part of me that’s sitting there. – John Hughes • It’s so warm now, and Thanksgiving came so early – is it just me, or does it not really feel like Ramadan? – David Letterman • Life without thankfulness is devoid of love and passion. Hope without thankfulness is lacking in fine perception. Faith without thankfulness lacks strength and fortitude. Every virtue divorced from thankfulness is maimed and limps along the spiritual road. – John Henry Jowett • Lord, ’tis Thy plenty-dropping hand. That soils my land, And giv’st me for my bushel sowne. Twice ten for one. All this, and better, Thou dost send. Me, to this end, That I should render, for my part, A thankful heart. – – Robert Herrick • Make it a habit to tell people thank you. To express your appreciation, sincerely and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate those around you, and you’ll soon find many others around you. Truly appreciate life, and you’ll find that you have more of it. – Ralph Marston • May your heart be an altar, from which the bright flame of unending thanksgiving ascends to heaven. – Mary Euphrasia Pelletier • May your stuffing be tasty May your turkey plump, May your potatoes and gravy Have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious And your pies take the prize, And may your Thanksgiving dinner Stay off your thighs! – Grandpa Jones My cooking is so bad my kids thought Thanksgiving was to commemorate Pearl Harbor. – Phyllis Diller • My favorite meal is turkey and mashed potatoes. I love Thanksgiving, it’s just my favorite. I can have Thanksgiving all year round. – Cindy Margolis • My restaurants are never opened on Thanksgiving; I want my staff to spend time with their family if they can. My feeling is, if I can’t figure out how to make money the rest of the year so that my workers can enjoy the holidays, then I don’t deserve to be an owner. – Michael Symon • My whole problem is that all of my favorite things at Thanksgiving are the starches, and everyone is trying to go low-carb this year, even a green vegetable has carbs in it. – Ted Allen No duty is more urgent than that of returning thanks. – James Allen • No matter what our circumstance, we can find a reason to be thankful. – David Jeremiah • No people on earth have more cause to be thankful than ours, and this is said reverently, in no spirit of boastfulness in our own strength, but with the gratitude to the Giver of good who has blessed us. – Theodore Roosevelt • Not to sound too much like Christopher Guest in ‘Waiting for Guffman,’ but on Thanksgiving you’re putting on a show! – Ted Allen • Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving.- W. T. Purkiser • Now thank we all our God, With hearts and hands and voices; Who wondrous things hath done, In whom this world rejoices. Who, from our mother’s arms, Hath led us on our way, With countless gifts of love, And still is ours today. – Martin Rinkart • Numberless marks does man bear in his soul, that he is fallen and estranged from God; but nothing gives a greater proof thereof, than that backwardness, which every one finds within himself, to the duty of praise and thanksgiving. – George Whitefield • O Lord that lends me life, Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! – William Shakespeare • On Thanksgiving Day we acknowledge our dependence. – William Jennings Bryan • On Thanksgiving I will stop to give thanks that my family is safe and healthy, especially because I realize that, following the tragedies of this year, it is all too real a possibility that they might not have been. – Bobby Jindal • One of my most memorable Thanksgiving memories was probably the first year that me and my two brothers decided to start our annual eating contest. We ate throughout the whole day. We started that morning and weighed ourselves, and at the very end of the night, we weighed ourselves out. And all three of us equally gained five pounds. – Charles Kelley • Our Creator shall continue to dwell above the sky, and that is where those on earth will end their thanksgiving. – Seneca the Younger • Our family holidays always include our animals. On Thanksgiving, we love to walk around our farm and visit with our rescued pigs, goats, horses, emus and many other rescued animals. We give them all special vegetables that day, and the whole family enjoys a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner. We know that the animals are giving thanks that day, and we are also giving thanks for the joy they bring to our lives. – Noah Wyle • Our knowledge of God is perfected by gratiitude: we are thankful and rejoice in the experience of the truth that He is love. – Thomas Merton • Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off’rings, and a thankful strain. – Alexander Pope • Over the Thanksgiving holiday I took time to reflect on what is most important to me and realized I need to find a way to put the fun back into racing. – Kurt Busch • Pride slays thanksgiving, but a humble mind is the soil out of which thanks naturally grow. A proud man is seldom a grateful man, for he never thinks he gets as much as he deserves. – Henry Ward Beecher • Remembering with thanks is what causes us to trust – to really believe. • Sharing in God’s blessings is at the heart of Thanksgiving and at the core of the American spirit. – William J. Clinton • So once in every year we throng Upon a day apart, to praise the Lord with feast and song in thankfulness of heart. – Arthur Guiterman • Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit. – Robert Burns • Some people are absolutely funny and you want to wish them Happy Thanksgiving in funniest way possible. Here is the list of Funny Thanksgiving sayings. Just chose the quote you want to wish that person. Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread and pumpkin pie. – Jim Davis • Thank you for life, and all the little ups and downs that make it worth living. – Travis Barker • ‘Thank you’ is the best prayer that anyone could say. – Alice Walker ‘Thank you’ is the best prayer that anyone could say. I say that one a lot. Thank you expresses extreme gratitude, humility, understanding. – Alice Walker • Thank you, God, for this good life and forgive us if we do not love it enough. – Garrison Keillor • Thankfulness is not something God gives us. It is not a spiritual gift and it is not a spiritual fruit. We can receive God’s peace, joy and love, but thankfulness is something that we give to Godand to others. It is a choice that we make. Let us thank Him today with songs of celebration, hearts of strong devotion and acts of admiration. -Roy Lessin • Thanks are the highest form of thought. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence. – Erma Bombeck • Thanksgiving is a typically American holiday…The lavish meal is a symbol of the fact that abundant consumption is the result and reward of production. – Ayn Rand • Thanksgiving is an emotional holiday. People travel thousands of miles to be with people they only see once a year. And then discover once a year is way too often. – Johnny Carson • Thanksgiving is the holiday that encompasses all others. All of them, from Martin Luther King Day to Arbor Day to Christmas to Valentine’s Day, are in one way or another about being thankful. – Jonathan Safran Foer • Thanksgiving is worry’s kryptonite. – Matt Chandler • Thanksgiving, man. Not a good day to be my pants. – Kevin James • Thanksgiving, when the Indians said, “Well, this has been fun, but we know you have a long voyage back to England”. – Jay Leno • Thanksgiving. It proved you had survived another year with its wars, inflation, unemployment, smog, presidents. It was a grand neurotic gathering of clans: loud drunks, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, screaming children, would-be suicides. And don’t forget indigestion. I wasn’t different from anyone else: There sat the 18-pound bird on my sink, dead, plucked, totally disemboweled. Iris would roast it for me. – Charles Bukowski • Thanksgiving. It’s like we didn’t even try to come up with a tradition. The tradition is, we overeat. ‘Hey, how about at Thanksgiving we just eat a lot?’ ‘But we do that every day!’ ‘Oh. What if we eat a lot with people that annoy the hell out of us?’ – Jim Gaffigan • The act is unjustifiable that either begs for a blessing, or, having succeeded gives no thanksgiving. – Merle Shain • The Christian who walks with the Lord and keeps constant communion with Him will see many reason for rejoicing and thanksgiving all day long. – Warren W. Wiersbe • The funny thing about Thanksgiving ,or any big meal, is that you spend 12 hours shopping for it then go home and cook,chop,braise and blanch. Then it’s gone in 20 minutes and everybody lies around sortof in a sugar coma and then it takes 4 hours to clean it up. – Ted Allen • The joy I get from winning a major championship doesn’t even compare to the feeling I get when a kid writes a letter saying: ‘Thank you so much. You have changed my life.’ – Tiger Woods • The observance of Thanksgiving Day-as a function-has become general of late years. The Thankfulness is not so general. This is natural. Two-thirds of the nation have always had hard luck and a hard time during the year, and this has a calming effect upon their enthusiasm. – Mark Twain • The private and personal blessings we enjoy- the blessings of immunity, safeguard, liberty and integrity- deserve the thanksgiving of a whole life. – Jeremy Taylor • The simple act of saying ‘thank you’ is a demonstration of gratitude in response to an experience that was meaningful to a customer or citizen. – Simon Mainwaring • The Spirit of prayer makes us so intimate with God that we scarcely pass through an experience before we speak to Him about it, either in supplication, in sighing, in pouring out our woes before Him, in fervent requests, or in thanksgiving and adoration.- Ole Hallesby • The thankful heart sees the best part of every situation. It sees problems and weaknesses as opportunities, struggles as refining tools, and sinners as saints in progress. – Francis Frangipane • The thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings. – Henry Ward Beecher • The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest. – William Blake • The Thanksgiving tradition is, we gorge. Hey, what about at Thanksgiving we simply consume a considerable measure? However we do that consistently! Goodness. Imagine a scenario where we consume a ton with individuals who pester the heck out of us.- Jim Gaffigan • The turkeys that most Americans eat for Thanksgiving are turkeys – losers that are mass produced and bland.- Marian Burros • The unthankful heart… discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings! Henry Ward Beecher • The very fact that a man is thankful implies someone to be thankful to. – John Baillie • There are a lot of New York City Thanksgiving traditions. For example, a lot of New Yorkers don’t buy the frozen Thanksgiving turkey. They prefer to buy the bird live and then push it in front of a subway train. – David Letterman • There is no better opportunity to receive more than to be thankful for what you already have. Thanksgiving opens the windows of opportunity for ideas to flow your way. – Jim Rohn • There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.- O. Henry • There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American. – O. Henry • Therefore, I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence. – Paul the Apostle Thinking, Dinner, Chickens • Those who survived the San Francisco earthquake said, ‘Thank God, I’m still alive.’ But, of course, those who died, their lives will never be the same again. – Barbara Boxer • Thou that hast given so much to me give me one thing more, a grateful heart: not thankful when it pleaseth me, as if Thy blessings had spare days, but such a heart whose pulse may be Thy praise. – George Herbert To give thanks in solitude is enough. Thanksgiving has wings and goes where it must go. Your prayer knows much more about it than you do.- Victor Hugo • We can always find something to be thankful for, and there may be reasons why we ought to be thankful for even those dispensations which appear dark and frowning. – Albert C. Barnes • We celebrate Thanksgiving along with the rest of America, maybe in different ways and for different reasons. Despite everything that’s happened to us since we fed the Pilgrims, we still have our language, our culture, our distinct social system. Even in a nuclear age, we still have a tribal people. – Wilma Mankiller • We give thanks often with a tearful, doubtful voice, for our spiritual mercies positive, but what an almost infinite field there is for mercies negative! We cannot even imagine all that God has allowed us not to do, not to be. – Frances Ridley Havergal • We have so much, yet many Americans feel dissatisfied. Somehow the full table, symbol of abundance to the pilgrims, is not enough. We yearn for something far beyond the material satisfaction. Find your place in history this Thanksgiving by stretching beyond your table. Celebrate your survival by offering peace and sharing with your neighbors. Make the shift from in illogical feeling of lack to the recognition of abundance. Invite the Spirit to your feast, and prepare to feed the world. – Jennifer James • We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives. – John F. Kennedy • We ought to make the moments notes Of happy glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days, a silent praise Of music we are living. – Ella Wheeler Wilcox • We would worry less if we praised more. Thanksgiving is the enemy of discontent and dissatisfaction. – Henry Allen Ironside • Well, there’s not a day goes by when I don’t get up and say thank you to somebody. – Rod Stewart • We’re having something a little different this year for Thanksgiving. Instead of a turkey, we’re having a swan. You get more stuffing – George Carlin • What does it mean when people applaud? Should I give ’em money? Say thank you? Lift my dress? The lack of applause – that I can respond to. – Barbra Streisand • What we’re really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving? – Erma Bombeck • When I was a kid in Indiana, we thought it would be fun to get a turkey a year ahead of time and feed it and so on for the following Thanksgiving. But by the time Thanksgiving came around, we sort of thought of the turkey as a pet, so we ate the dog. Only kidding. It was the cat! – David Letterman • When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself. – Tecumseh • WHEREAS it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favour; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint Committee, requested me “to recommend to the people of the United States a DAY OF PUBLICK THANKSGIVING and PRAYER, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.” – George Washington • With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. – Laurence Binyon • You know that just before that first Thanksgiving dinner there was one wise, old Native American woman saying, Don’t feed them. If you feed them, they’ll never leave. – Dylan Brody • You may have heard of Black Friday and Cyber Monday. There’s another day you might want to know about: Giving Tuesday. The idea is pretty straightforward. On the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, shoppers take a break from their gift-buying and donate what they can to charity. – Bill Gates • Your friend is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. – Khalil Gibran

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