Agape Agape, Evermore

I tire of this world.
The sickness,
inside of man.
Vile bile boiling in their guts.
It spills from their mouth in words and deeds,
stirring vomit from myself.
To see the lies is gut wrenching.
If I have to hear another nature argument,
I'm going to explode.
Nature only necessitates some beginning.
Nothing about inability to change it.
This disgust makes me desire hollowness in feeling.

And yet,
I must acknowledge this base.
I'm no saint.
But I respect those who desire Goodness in the world,
rather than those who embrace sins:
Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, Pride.
It pains me to see these inside man.
It pains me more to see man acknowledge the bonds as fact,
like lifetime prisoner, who accepts his chains.
And worse, when they begin to love their chains.
It crushes my hope sometimes.
But the feeling will pass,
for they are but temporary,
and always will be.
I long to be ruled by eternal things.

The body is dead because of sin.
And so slaves toil in their shackles,
never fulfilled, never satisfied.
Always wanting another quick fix,
another temporal pleasure,
believing some middle cause
to be the final cause.
Never seeing the contradiction
of utility as being the final cause.
If I can still become sad,
it is because of things like this.

Heavenly Father,
You are the first principle,
the initial cause, our Creator
and fountain of all life.
As we seek to live properly,
please allow us to acknowledge
this source.
What we truly desire is to know
of you, your love,
and how this affects our state of being
in this world.
We are nothing without you Lord,
but are something through you.
As you are being, and we take our life
through you, let us see we are neither
nothing, nor beings.
Ours is a life in a state of becoming.
To see you as the life spring Lord
is to know which direction we become.
Shall we return to chaos?
Or become being through the Lord?

Show us the path to proper becoming.
To become closer to you God.
May your prevenient Grace call us,
when we have strayed from your way.
That it may call to our friends and family,
that your Love become clear to each individual,
and your outreached hand become known.
To realize that we are nothing without you.
We are not and nor will we ever be You, Lord.
The most we can ask for is but a relationship with You.
To somehow draw upon your grace, love, mercy, and power.
Let virtue come out of you into us upon your Heavenly touch,
let recognition of our contingency lead to humility,
humility to agape,
agape to a relationship with Him.

What sense is there in "to every man his own?"
Shall we, as contingent beings call ourselves self-caused?
Even in the since of final causes?
Surely a will is a type of cause,
but only of a decision,
and not of the Self itself,
as the Self is prior to the will.
So much for such claims.
Let us explode outwards from the Self,
to forget our needs, our wants, our anxieties.
For what room can their be for the Spirit,
if we should attempt to fill ourselves in whole?
How are we to ask for your filling,
if we fallaciously believe our identity is self-sufficient?
So much for old sayings.
So much for humanistic religions.

Let our prayers and concerns be for God first,
and others second.
Submit the Self's cries to the grave.
Justify your children when they cry out to you Lord.
Sinners no longer they shall be.
They shall no longer love their chains.
For a sinner is not capable of following the law.
But in so Justifying them they shall be saved,
and will have turned around to see Your Righteous Light.
We shall see the law, and weep before it.
At least now we may follow it.
Whereas we were before stuck in the shadow of the Self,
not realizing our shadow was caused by ourself,
our darkness was self-inflicted,
our pain was in our perspective.
But your prevenient grace gave us knowledge,
so that we may tell an object from its image.
And upon this reckoning we turn to you,
fall before you on our knees,
and renounce our pride.
Renounce our ways, our prior path,
the madness we once lived in.

In this moment, we come to realize,
realize what it means to let the relationship,
rather than the members,
build the persons.
For if this were the case,
one or the other would always be better,
and one would be a parasite.
None would willingy enter such a relationship,
nor would any Good come of it.
All would be reduced to the lowest common denominator.
But in renouncing the Self,
we see we are empty shells,
dependent upon you for all things,
and allow your sanctifying grace to begin.
Looking to You foremost, and next to others,
the Self qualified as Good no longer matters.
It is evidence, as works, of the relationships.
Every tree is known by its fruits,
and you are the vine.
Just as the vine sprouts branches,
so the tree bears fruit,
both ends cannot be without the source,
just as effect without cause is nonbeing,
so shall the Self be dependent.
But only known in retrospect,
for fear that we become selfish again,
upon viewing the Goodness,
that has settled within to build a new Self.
But your commands are two.
In the Old the first consisted of four commands,
their meaning being one, for You Lord.
And the second six being of one, for each other.
In the New the Son of man enlightens us to this.
But the commands are one in nature, agape.
Just as your essence is One.
And so we see, what little sense is makes,
that the One should not apply to the All,
somehow Many, in application to persons.

You are a rich and mysterious God.
And we are but men of faith, seeking understanding.
We read, pray, worship, ask, ponder, receive,
flare out in anger and cry out in love,
grow tired, are renewed, and so it goes.
We ask for forgiveness of transgressions,
and pray for the strength and mercy to forgive others.
Take away our sorrows, anger, and pains,
so long as they are not useful.
If they should be lessons by punishment,
I pray wisdom for all to discern of these things,
of Good and evil,
so that once Justified, we may move forward,
and in Sanctification be made anew, Christ-like,
in the best possible image of the divine--
the perfect man.
This is as much as we can become,
but not without you Lord.
And in doing so break our chains.
Woe unto us for wanting to visit our prisons,
having spent so much time there,
we find ourselves still tempting to venture back,
but in being Justified,
they are but visits,
and the chains have long rusted shut.
Lead us away from these chambers,
and out into the World,
and make unto our kind righteous men,
by which all others may see the fruits of your works.
Men by whom no law is necessary to live,
for the law is not for righteous men,
as they live by a new nature,
for you are the way, the path, and the life.
Lord, hear our prayer.

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,
Amen.

Where Does Art Belong?

I might have had ears to hear your word if it hadn't been incoherent so absurd. You vain brute. Disguised in emo glasses, sitting behind dark cups of coffee, and smug looks you believe eloquence to be synonymous with Truth. Such events are nothing more than group therapy sessions of self-pity for your kind as a whole in which the individuals laud one another for their ridiculous attempts at poetry, at writing, and so on. Have you no sense of Beauty? Do you not know that words without reason are empty? Your problems are non-existent and your solutions don't follow from anything said. You rely entirely on some pretty word which you have yet to define, yet to refine in the fires of any form of judgment vis a vis dialogue, experiment, or general experience.

I do not understand contemporary poets. It seems they're so focused on putting the perfect words in combination together that they forget what the meanings of the words were to begin with -- replacing reason with syllables. Whoo!

It's not a matter of poor interpretation, for I can acknowledge great classical poets to which I cannot interpret correctly. This requires some training on the art form of poetry, perhaps personal background if the piece requires it, and some practice in order to do it well. But there is a fine distinction between not being able to interpret and not being able to understand. The former means I understand the words being used and the statements make sense, but my connecting theme to a central theme or point is lacking. In the latter I find that the statements themselves make no sense because they are either contradictory or incoherent. In the case of this particular event today, the latter of those two options of not understanding is the case. I found myself pondering over single lines and wondering if I needed a special dictionary for the world they live in. Language is only valuable and beautiful insofar as it expresses ideas between individuals. If it is no longer capable of this then it becomes empty of meaning, and a thing without meaning has no value. I know some artists are going to want to say some things have no value outside of themselves. I wholeheartedly agree. One paints simply to do it well, plays piano to do it well, and writes to do so well. In spelling out what it means to do something well is where the answer lies.

Writing is the application of language into some structure, or work. Language has one purpose, to communicate ideas to other individuals. Thus writing is about this communication of ideas. To write well means to communicate well. If someone can communicate well then they are more suitable to describe some situation, experience, point, theme, dream, or motif. If you need a council of peers who have studied much poetry and how to read exceptionally well in order to appreciated, then you don't communicate well. And if you don't communicate well...you don't write well.

Furthermore, is it really enough to simply communicate well? I might write in a way so as to communicate perfectly how I took the most monstrous defecation all over a sleeping homeless man last night. Most people find this to be vulgar, morally atrocious, or generally not well written poetry. I would posit that there is some tacit premise that all people hold about writing well, and that is that the topic which is being written about, is worth being written about. Poems about a red leaf you saw one time might be so well communicated that I can envision it myself. But what have I gotten from it? Why have I read your poem? Or have I wasted time of my life by reading it when I could have gone out and experienced it or something greater on my own? There seems to be a need to say that those who write well write about good ideas, in whatever sense I mean by 'good.'

Good writers should be able to bring me something I can't obtain through my own experience of the world: show me an unseen connection, remind me of what is worthy to pursue in life. I don't think the arts are capable of discerning truth in any way, for I don't know what one could possibly mean by truth that comes in a non-propositional form. When I hear artist make the claim anyway I often try to make a rule of replacing their word "truth" with "stimulating feeling." But I shouldn't have to do this if they communicate well. I do however believe that art can serve as a reminder and give man a taste for something greater. If you read your Symposium we are prone to see the beauty in the particular, then it particulars, and start to question the nature of Beauty, if there is a Beauty-itself, or Being, or whatever we mean by these things that we seem to want. For surely if we have a desire it is for something, for it's not possible I desire nothing. It could be I am misguided by what it is I want, but insofar as I can be misguided it is simply a discrepancy in what a thing is versus what I thought it was. I think art can be a step into the speculative life, and I suppose that's what's been bothering me as of late, as I've sought to place art's importance somewhere in life.

So what do I mean when I say writers who communicate well should express 'good' ideas? Probably something like the Good, the True, and the Beautiful. I'm not going to set out to prove why these things are the case, simply presume them and tell you to read your Scripture and Platonic dialogues, :D suggest any art that seeks to needs structure and order to reflect the perfect harmony of these things as One. In writing poetry they should reflect, remind, and express to others why they long for them so. In painting the same should be done but by pictures. I think art can be an excellent way to rest within the Lord, to reflect on what you've come to know, grow in, realize, sort out, and so on. It is Good to dwell on the conclusions before moving on. Sometimes I'm in such a rush for more I forget this.

When I have what it is I desire I no longer desire it, but it doesn't mean I do not or cannot take joy in it. I take joy in knowing that only God can know Himself perfectly. In this way we shall always desire to be in His presence. And if there is some logical way in which it is possible to come to know God perfectly while avoiding heresy (for to know perfection is to be perfect oneself, a.k.a. God) then while the desire may leave, the Joy will not. It's a win-win situation. Awesome.

Awesome: the state of being full of awe, wonder, amazement.