This morning I was the first to wake up except Papa, having gone to sleep at a seasonably early time and had a rather sound go of it. Europe's 'leap forward' to summer time, viz. the loss of an hour between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m., was not really bothersome. It was still greyish weather and single snowflakes of large compass idly footled about in the sky.
This year the Easter bunny duties were for the most part assumed by J., who assembled the table picturesquely, with a great deal of chocolate eggs in brightly coloured foil, the plate whereupon a sugar-dusted cake lamb reposed as a present from a family friend, Maltesers (the confectionery), an orange for everyone, and a belled goldwrapped chocolate bunny on each of our little plates.
While I waited for the others to wake up, I began watching the Easter mass from St. Peter's Square at 10:14, thanks to ZDF's internet livestream. I didn't get very far in, but did hear the reading in English from Corinthians. (Puzzled by the unelevated language of the text, I later lamented that the Catholic church didn't seem to be using the King James Bible any more, whereupon Mama et al. groaned and I remembered that England was Anglican by King James's time.) The German voiceovers were a pain, but some of the commentary was useful. I liked the way that the garb and postures of the deacon, cardinals, etc. resembled those in medieval paintings, as if someone had animated them for my benefit — and I loved the flower arrangements, which were in fine taste in my opinion — it turns out that they are Dutch —, arranged with an eye to the manner in which greenery and blossoms naturally disperse and group themselves.
Then came the Easter breakfast. There I forgot the eggs so that they boiled a good eight or nine minutes despite the loftiest intentions. This year there was no to-do of dye or watercolour paint, though J. has painted his own eggshell in a design which was intended to resemble Islamic art and which I thought (and said, perhaps tactlessly and at any rate to a bemused audience) looked very Celtic. It has a little green but a lot of dark berry red and black and gold, and shapes of hares with a thick band of ornamental pattern as a kind of Greenwich Meridian/(straight) International Date Line. At any rate, we did eat raisin bread and graham bread and freshly baked rolls (dough of industrial provenance) with jam, cheese, egg, or ham. The tea and coffee were also toastily-hot and at the ready.
After that our paths diverged.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Canada Customs and the Pope
Since I am not likely to set much finger to keyboard for the purposes of this blog any time soon, and since although not a hermit I am doing a fairly good impression of a reticent and occasionally growly troll hiding under a bridge — here is a somewhat silly video from a Canadian political/social comedy series which my family and I enjoyed watching when we weren't cringing over 'inappropriate' bits.
As far as things I don't mind talking about are concerned, the news I've been following lately also comprised a great deal about the new Pope. Having been thoroughly disgruntled by his predecessor and prone to speaking very lightly of the Vatican, it sort of bowled me over to find that by a simple choice made over two or three days, I have been basking in a kind of rosy haze at the thought of Pope Franciscus. The novel idea of seeing God's work as going amongst the poor and needy and, heaven forfend, even listening to them — instead of reading up and holding endless speeches on dusty theological disputes; dusting off ceremonious chasubles or other antiquated trappings which had been discarded by less tradition-happy popes; and carefully keeping away from the other religions which are suddenly all evil again since Pope John Paul II died — has been so entrancing that I even thought of attending church again.
As suspected, I didn't act on this impulse, but it feels nice to be in a state of mind where I'd sincerely consider it. On the other hand, Franciscus's vivid acquaintance with The Evil One (to whom he ascribed a role in certain gay marriage legislation in Argentina, and whose name he dropped on the Pontifex Twitter account) seems a little naive to me. Belief in a red man with horns and a forky tail is not really supported by the actual text of the Bible, if I am properly informed, and there is something undignified about it unless you have a true, mature feeling for apocalyptic upheaval and sinisterness like a Hieronymus Bosch. Similarly, I think that fantasizing about satan is an odd activity (and a misdirection of energies) for a man of God.
Another thing that impresses me as human and sensible about the new Pope, though, is that he seems to be trying to lead as ordinary of a life as possible — walking amongst hoi polloi, talking with people he disagrees with, living in quarters which are about what he has been accustomed to, speaking the language of the neighbourhood where he lives instead of Latin, travelling in a vehicle which does not look too silly, making his own arrangements re. newspaper delivery, and (metaphorically speaking) not wearing too many bells and whistles. It seems an excellent way to remain reasonably levelheaded.
*
I would talk about university stuff, but the last semester was the WORST (not so much terrible as pointless and irritating) and I'm grumpy about having to return from the holidays in mid-April.
*
Lastly, for people who are not excessively bored by Twitter and are interested in the issue of gay marriage, here is a link to a lovely though unexpected political statement by the American lifestyle (well, not that kind of lifestyle) magazine Martha Stewart Living. It refers to the 'equals sign' = which has been adopted and spread as a pro-gay-marriage symbol by (I think) the Human Rights Campaign. [Link] I found it quite heartwarming — unlike the decision of the US Supreme Court not to decide on 'Prop 8' yet. Someone wrote a comment underneath the photo that the magazine would lose Twitter 'followers'; in fact I have kept track of it and its numbers have gone from 46,429 to 46, 451.
As far as things I don't mind talking about are concerned, the news I've been following lately also comprised a great deal about the new Pope. Having been thoroughly disgruntled by his predecessor and prone to speaking very lightly of the Vatican, it sort of bowled me over to find that by a simple choice made over two or three days, I have been basking in a kind of rosy haze at the thought of Pope Franciscus. The novel idea of seeing God's work as going amongst the poor and needy and, heaven forfend, even listening to them — instead of reading up and holding endless speeches on dusty theological disputes; dusting off ceremonious chasubles or other antiquated trappings which had been discarded by less tradition-happy popes; and carefully keeping away from the other religions which are suddenly all evil again since Pope John Paul II died — has been so entrancing that I even thought of attending church again.
As suspected, I didn't act on this impulse, but it feels nice to be in a state of mind where I'd sincerely consider it. On the other hand, Franciscus's vivid acquaintance with The Evil One (to whom he ascribed a role in certain gay marriage legislation in Argentina, and whose name he dropped on the Pontifex Twitter account) seems a little naive to me. Belief in a red man with horns and a forky tail is not really supported by the actual text of the Bible, if I am properly informed, and there is something undignified about it unless you have a true, mature feeling for apocalyptic upheaval and sinisterness like a Hieronymus Bosch. Similarly, I think that fantasizing about satan is an odd activity (and a misdirection of energies) for a man of God.
Another thing that impresses me as human and sensible about the new Pope, though, is that he seems to be trying to lead as ordinary of a life as possible — walking amongst hoi polloi, talking with people he disagrees with, living in quarters which are about what he has been accustomed to, speaking the language of the neighbourhood where he lives instead of Latin, travelling in a vehicle which does not look too silly, making his own arrangements re. newspaper delivery, and (metaphorically speaking) not wearing too many bells and whistles. It seems an excellent way to remain reasonably levelheaded.
*
I would talk about university stuff, but the last semester was the WORST (not so much terrible as pointless and irritating) and I'm grumpy about having to return from the holidays in mid-April.
*
Lastly, for people who are not excessively bored by Twitter and are interested in the issue of gay marriage, here is a link to a lovely though unexpected political statement by the American lifestyle (well, not that kind of lifestyle) magazine Martha Stewart Living. It refers to the 'equals sign' = which has been adopted and spread as a pro-gay-marriage symbol by (I think) the Human Rights Campaign. [Link] I found it quite heartwarming — unlike the decision of the US Supreme Court not to decide on 'Prop 8' yet. Someone wrote a comment underneath the photo that the magazine would lose Twitter 'followers'; in fact I have kept track of it and its numbers have gone from 46,429 to 46, 451.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
