One of my goal for this year is to visit a bunch of the California missions. I last made a go at visiting them all when I was a child, learning my local history. Being at mid-life, it seems appropriate to travel the Camino Real again, revisiting these old churches and getting back in touch with my Californian roots.
So, I traveled down to Oceanside to visit the King of the Mission, San Luis Rey de Francia. Founded in 1798, this mission is a lovely site, with rich religious imagery, historical antiquities, and beautiful gardens.
And it makes for nice photos. ;-)
"Convidando está la noche" by Juan García de Zéspedes
Sign advertising the Blessing of the Animals on Olvera Street
Just a quick visit to share a few photos from the Blessing of the Animals that I attended today on Olvera Street.
It was a hot day with lots of energetic animals, from house pets to farm animals. Hectic but fun. ;-)
Archbishop Jose H. Gomez administered the Blessing
If you have never been to the Olvera Street Blessing, it's quite the spectacle. It's always interesting to see how the various critters respond to being splash by holy water. Good stuff!!!
The precise date of Raphael's birth is not certain, but April 6, 1483, is one commonly held date. So, let's go with it for our celebration. ;-)
I don't get passionate about Raphael's work, but I am endlessly enchanted by it. Serene beauty rules his aesthetic reality. Gorgeous, young Madonnas, draped in sumptuous fabrics, sitting in an Arcadian landscape, hint of the celestial glory made manifest in earthly form.
Raphael is not my favorite artist, but he places high on the list. His art is the perfection of Renaissance ideals.
Detail of Madonna and Child with Book (1503) by Raphael
In the local collections, only the Norton Simon has a Raphael, the lovely Madonna pictured above. It is always a treat to go see this beauty.
It's been a long time since I posted about religion or spirituality, but Saint Teresa of Avila is one of my favorites. I was going to write about her back in October, on her Feast Day, but the circumstances regarding the dating of her death are so absurd that I feel inappropriate honoring her on that day.
St. Teresa passed away either just before midnight October 4, 1582, or, moments later, after midnight on October 15. How the heck can eleven days be "moments later"?! Well, because of the concurrent implementation of the Gregorian calendar, replacing the outdated Julian calendar, there was no October 5 through 14 in 1582.
In any case, St. Teresa of Avila writes with a simple authenticity, avoiding wild cosmological expressions or fanciful apocalyptic visions. Her mysticism is experienced and conveyed with humility and compassion. Although visionary, Teresa never obfuscates or ornaments her insights, attempting to sound profound. I don't know if I believe in that which she experienced, but I certainly do believe that she had a "mystical" understanding and is attempting to share it with her readers, in a spirit of generosity and tenderness.
Moreover, I find her insights beautiful and inspiring. Her world is one where Love is the divine spirit, which dwells within our souls. For humanity, salvation is to be found by accepting this Divine Love and allowing it to be your eternal guide.
My approach to appreciating art, in all of its forms, is to look for a meaning, a narrative, some type of significance, which will stimulate my mind in some aesthetic manner. Therefore, illustration would seem to be the art form which I would love most, but it isn't. Too often, illustrators rely upon the written text to carry the burden of the narrative creativity, which results in mere functionality without adding to or transforming the base inspiration.
In my view, illustration is like alchemy, taking a source material and transforming it, through the addition of images, into a more refined product. Of course, some works start out at such a higher grade that you can't really "improve" it, but a quality illustrator can add value by creating linked images that amplify the impact of the text.
Few illustrators in the history of the art form have been as good at this as Gustave Dore.
The Vision of the Valley of Dry Bones (1866) by Gustave Dore.
So, in honor of his birth date, born in 1832, let's admire some of his awesome Biblical illustrations.
Detail of Winter Sunday in Norway, Maine (c.1860) by artist unknown
William Billings is another composer that languishes in obscurity. Given his creative vision and early presence in the American timeline of the arts, you would think he'd be given a special place of prominence within musical history classes, at least in the States. I didn't learn about him until well after I had become familiar with the standard classical repertoire.
Now, it's true that I didn't sing in a church choir, which is where most of his works are currently performed as part of the Sacred Harp tradition. However, a student of classical music gets exposed to numerous choral works from European sources fairly early on in the course of their education. Why does Billings get overlooked in favor for yet another German baroque cantata?
I'm not saying that Billings should bump Handel off the syllabus. But I do think that there is a prejudice at work here that marginalizes "colonial" expressions. This is also true for composers from the Spanish colonies, such as Juan Garcia de Zespedes or Juan Gutierrez de Padilla. So, my position is that maybe a day can be set aside to focus on the works coming out of the European colonies in the New World.
Hieroglyphic of a Christian (1850-75) by artist unknown
Well, I'll get off of my soapbox and let Billings' music defend itself. ;-)
Vishnu flanked by Sridevi (left) and Bhudevi (right)
Ever since our Friday Flowers celebrated the Hindu goddess Kali, I've been wanting to go see some classic Indian sculpture. Perhaps the finest collection of such work in the Los Angeles area is at the Norton Simon Museum. So a quick trip to Pasadena was in order.
The collection is very extensive and impressive. Therefore, I'm limiting this post to focusing on my favorite goddess statues. The Norton Simon website has brief audio tour lectures for some of these statues. I'll provide the links after at image.
The most exalted experience of bliss
in any realm of being
is directly knowing the universal Mother,
the supremely blissful one.
Ecstatic lovers of Kali the Sublime
are not pilgrims to sacred shrines,
for they hear all existence
singing the glory of the Goddess.
I could have gone many different ways with a Hibiscus-related poem, but I went with a good old bhakti poem to the Hindu goddess Kali. Why not a poet from the American South or a cozy tea-related bit of verse? Because I just realized that those flowers associated with Bengalese images of Kali are hibiscus. Yeow! That's something that I should have known!!!
Years of serious study in myth, religion, symbolism, and iconography. . . Well, you learn something new every day. ;-)
A little monkey goes like a donkey that means to say that means to say that more sighs last goes. Leave with it. A little monkey goes like a donkey.
I had the good fortune to be able to attend the Blessing of the Animals last weekend at Wayfarers Chapel. Seeing animals participate in peaceful religious ceremonies always charms me. First, I'm amazed that chaos doesn't break out derailing the whole event. Seriously, how do you gather together a group of semi-wild beasts and not have mayhem prevail? Dogs and cats, bunnies and snakes, these creatures can be querulous at any given moment. How is it that they become relatively well-behaved at these types of events?
Second, the compassion that the human participants have for their beastly companions is touching. Bringing their pets to the ceremony is important to the pet owners. The wish to share the spiritual consolations of the faith with their beloved animal "family members" is admirable. It is an obvious expression of love and charity. And that's why I find it so moving.
I'm happy that modern American spirituality has mostly rejected the old Creation hating attitude that has dominated most of the Christian tradition. With a few notable exceptions, such as St. Francis of Assisi, animals have been considered soulless creatures, unworthy of affection. Bah!!! I say good riddance to Medieval human arrogance and meanness of empathy.
These beasties might not have the gift of advanced reason, but they can certainly feel pleasure and devotion towards their human friends. So, why wouldn't a loving and benevolent Divinity extend blessings unto them?
While I was on vacation, I had the opportunity to visit the San Jose Museum of Art where the exhibit "The Bible Illuminated: R. Crumb's Book of Genesis" was on display. It contained the original drawn pages from which the graphic novel was created. Each page of the comprehensive fifty chapter work was exhibited. I'm not a fan of Crumb's work and I am certainly no fan of the Book of Genesis, but the show was impressive.
As regards Crumb, I've long admired his amazing skills of composition and rendering. Throughout his long career, his ability to structure a panel, within the multi-panel context of a comic book page, is awe-inspiring. However, I have a hard time reading his work because his figures are so egregiously ugly and crass. I definitely respect the skill that he uses in drawing these characters, but I find their odious appearances to be distracting and tiresome. I can only enjoy Crumb in very small doses.
However, within the Book of Genesis, these gnarly homunculi seem appropriate to the subject matter. The world of the biblical Patriarchs is crude and rough-hewn. It is a world where the "Crumb people" seem to belong. Moreover, his attention to detail creates for an immersive experience. Even the infamously tedious "Generations of So-And-So" wherein "Whats-His-Name begat Whos-That, and lived another couple hundred years" is made into an interesting read by creating veristic portraits of people living in the Bronze Age, eating, fighting, farming, dancing, or just looking tired.
That's the key to Crumb's success. The attention to the details of character and setting creates a convincing world in which the reader can easily follow the events being portrayed. The famous stories, like Noah's Flood or the Sacrifice of Isaac, are given superb treatment, but it is the obscure stories, such as Sarah joining Pharaoh's harem or the Massacre of the Shechemites, that really benefit from Crumb's meticulous attention. These are obscure stories that get lost within the rambling biblical narrative, but Crumb's ability to impart drama and significance through his illustrations make them stand out.
Book of Genesis by R. Crumb
As regard the Genesis text, it's still a horrible thing. I've had to read Genesis numerous times while pursuing my theology studies and I really detest it. However, Crumb's rendering of the text smoothed out the incoherency of the text. The images impart an empathic humanity to the characters, as detestable or immoral though they may be. Even the weird things like Lot's daughters conspiring to seduce their father or Esau selling his birthright for a bowl of "red red stuff" feels less absurd or disturbing when portrayed by Crumb's drawings.
My biggest complaint is that Crumb missed the opportunity to express the ideas of the Documentary Hypothesis in this work.
I am not a fan of the Bible, especially the Old Testament. Yes, there is a great deal to admire and appreciate about Scripture. Giving it a full and honest reading is a worthwhile endeavor and can certainly bring knowledge and wisdom. However, there is plenty of objectionable stuff as well, products of a tribalistic Bronze Age mentality.
Since today is the Feast Day of the Prophet Elisha, let's reflect on this passage from 2 Kings 2:23-24 (KJV):
And he went up from thence unto Bethel: and as he was going up by the way, there came forth little children out of the city, and mocked him, and said unto him, Go up, thou bald head; go up, thou bald head.
And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the LORD. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them.
Yeah, that's quite a disproportionate response. How do apologists defend this blatant act of injustice?
Today is the Feast Day of Julian of Norwich, in the Anglican and Lutheran churches.
As I began my studies into Christian spirituality, Julian's Sixteen Revelations of Divine Love was one of the first overtly mystical works that I came across. On my first read, I was somewhat dismissive of it. First, it is an easy read with direct language, unadorned with philosophical nuance. By my training, this was a sign of inferior thinking. Honestly, if you can't manage a single quiddity, then what good are you?
Second, the universality of Love, the infallibility of Hope, and the root of sin being ignorance, these all mark Julian as a "proto-hippie" in my eyes. And "hippie-ness" is a BAD thing. Seriously, where was the scourge of pain to punish evil? Where was Wrath and Damnation? And what's this about God as Mother??? What is this, a classic of Western Spirituality or some New Age mumbo jumbo?
A few years later, I was studying the apophatic mysticism of the Cloud of Unknowing, another work of 14th century English spirituality. An article that I was reading made repeat comparisons between the Cloud and Julian. I thought "I don't remember Julian being anywhere as interesting as this writer makes her sound." So, I gave her a reread, something that I rarely do. (Life is too short to reread books.)
In the intervening years, I had transcended by biases in regards to theological technical lingo and "hippie-phobia". Therefore, I encountered Julian with an open mind. And she was well worth it. Her mystical vision is brave, unique, and beautiful.
The line that really caught me was "Sin is necessary, but all will be well", which sums up her belief that sin is not born out of evil, but of ignorance. This ignorance is natural and the process of sinning is how we learn. By making mistakes, we discover the right way to do things. Once this wisdom is obtained, we can move on into the perfection of God's Love.
That's an amazingly modern thought. Julian's forming this spiritual worldview in 1373, a time in which crazy superstition is rife throughout all aspects of society. Sin is the work of the DEVIL!!! There are demons and imps and monsters all over the place, tempting humanity into Eternal Damnation. And although God is "loving", he's more than ready to actively devastate the world with manifestations of his Wrath: the Black Death, famine and war.
Yeah, this is a time lost to ignorance and fear, but Julian sees an underlying reason for Hope. "Do not accuse yourself that your tribulation and your woe is all your fault. . . this life is penance, and he wants us to rejoice in the remedy." In other words, our pain is not a punishment for sin, but rather is the purgation of our sin. By the simple process of living our lives we are automatically engaged in penance. The everyday situations that face us brings us closer to perfection.
"And then you will truly see that all your life is profitable penance." That's a liberating spirituality.
I can go on and on about Julian, but I think that's something that can fill up many a post.
cold water in the basin
these walls' rough plaster
imageless
after the hammering
of so much insistence
on the need for naming
after the travesties
that passed as faces,
grace: the unction
of sheer nonexistence
upwelling in this
hyacinthine freshet
of the unnamed
the faceless
For Good Friday, I decided that I wasn't in the mood for meditations upon the bodily sufferings of Jesus, as is the focus of a traditional Catholic "Stations of the Cross" service. I wanted to think on transcendence. So I took a trip down to the Wayfarers Chapel in Rancho Palos Verdes. It's a beautiful location, situated overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Designed by Lloyd Wright, son of the famous Frank Lloyd Wright, the building is an architectural masterpiece. The Chapel is affiliated with the Swedenborgian church and is designed in harmony with its beliefs. For instance, the harmonization of the Spirit with Nature is represented by the contextual design of material and form, such that the boundary between the Chapel's Sacred Space and the surrounding Natural Space is effectively eliminated. Here are a couple photos to illustrate:
A view of Wayfarers Chapel from the outside
A view of Wayfarers Chapel from the inside.
Another interesting element of Swedenborgian theology is the view of the Trinity, in with the traditional concept of distinct "Persons" is rejected in favor of distinct "Aspects." This is best represented by the Triangular form. So, there are plenty of triangles and implied triangles to be seen. Here are a couple photos:
Trinity represented by a triangular fountain
Implied triangles of the entry lead to the expressed triangle of the alter.
Finally, the location on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific allows for wonderful pointers to the Infinite. Creating structures that draw the eye either up into the sky or out across the ocean, the Infinite is easily contemplated here. For example:
A view from the entry steps
Looking up at the Bell Tower
Anyways, I was very happy that I spent Good Friday at such a fine place of contemplation. My photos don't do justice to the full extent of the location's beauty. So, if you are in the Los Angeles region, I highly recommend a visit to the Chapel. Here's a vid of the interior:
March 7th is the Feast of St. Perpetua and St. Felicity, two Christian martyrs of the early 3rd century. Having been raised Catholic, I grew up well versed in tales of martyrdom. However, when I started my studies in theology, this martyrdom was the first that I considered with a critical mind. It set off my skepticism towards the veneration of saints and led me to the study of mystical phenomenology.
I see Perpetua as the principle protagonist of the narrative. For me, she is both heroic and villainous, tragic and pathetic. She provokes from me a sense of love/hate. She expresses both admirable and detestable qualities of religious devotion.
In the mid-90s, I wrote a short story about martyrdom in an attempt to articulate this ambiguity. It was never published, but I occasionally play with the idea of attempting a rewrite. Hopefully, my advanced age has brought with it advanced wisdom. ;-)
