Ok, my blog has joined the sad ranks of those things which may look alive but are actually dead, like local newspapers or Ben Affleck's career. This past fall things with the church have gotten busy with the Inside-Out Vision and we keep something vaguely blog-like here.
But I either need to officially bury the Idle Eisegete or breathe some new life into it. What to do?
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"You cannot retire too much from the mindless chatter of the world." - Francois Fenelon
The Church I Serve
Seven Stanzas at Easter, by John Updike
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells' dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His Flesh: ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that — pierced — died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.
The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.
And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck's quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.
it was as His body;
if the cells' dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His Flesh: ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that — pierced — died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.
The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.
And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck's quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.
About Me
- Elliott Scott
- Houston, Texas, United States
- I'm not really cynical. I just try to sound that way because I think it's cool.
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14 comments:
Do what you want to do.
Hah, thanks, Bud. I'm encouraged that someone is still bothering to notice.
I check in to see what is posted on your blog. I have to set up a new Google ID every time I try to comment, which is inconvenient. Is there a way to do this without having to create a Google ID and remember the name and password just to comment on a Blog?
I can enable the anonymous option. When I first created the blog I was getting unwanted comments from people in the denomination we left. But they've probably lost interest and moved on to other things by now.
Thanks for letting me know you check the blog from time to time. :)
I think heroic measures should be taken - no blog with such an awesome name should be allowed to malinger. However , if you do opt to put it out of its misery remember to ' double tap '.
Erin! My compadre in zombie mayhem quoting the Best Movie of 2009!
By the way, I finished reading your copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Who knew that Elizabeth Bennet was trained by the Shaolin monks and was a accomplished master in the art of death? My favorite part of the book is when she kills all of the ninjas who are working for Mr. Darcy's evil aunt.
That's probably worth a blog post in and of itself....
Don't count Affleck out just yet. Dude directed "Gone Baby Gone."
Apparently Jennifer Garner reads the blog and has an alias no one knew about.
I figured out how to reset my password this time without resorting to a new ID. Progress!
I wish I were into zombies, werewolves, vampires, aliens and death. Maybe my heart (or maybe my head) is to weak to handle that kind of stuff.
Have fun blogging.
Clever.
Breathe new life, most definitely!
Also, even if you accept anonymous comments, you don't have to publish them if you select the setting that requires you to approve comments, just my two cents for the day.
Hoping to see you guys in March! What's your wife's name again?
When/if you move from an Eisegete Blog to an Inside-Out blog, aren't you turning the eisegete into an exegete? I would miss your interpretations of the life around you.
Melissa, you guys are visiting in March? I'll let ALLIE MILLER BALDWIN SCOTT know.
Ok. I think I'm inspired to get back into blogging. Starting this next week, you can expect one or two posts per week and for me to moderate the comments daily.
Thanks for feedback!
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