tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4778905687600416321.post5304932848063771169..comments2023-11-05T02:55:10.230-06:00Comments on Gottesdienst Online: Holy Wednesday Poems: Account and In Black Despair and A TaskPr. H. R.http://www.blogger.com/profile/16756503062523543708noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4778905687600416321.post-14518577526968683602010-04-01T11:49:46.222-05:002010-04-01T11:49:46.222-05:00Yeah - he said that Socrates, Hector, etc. would m...Yeah - he said that Socrates, Hector, etc. would make it. Here's a quote:<br />http://books.google.com/books?id=MRw-SgVqVL8C&pg=PA57&lpg=PA57&dq=zwingli+socrates+can+be+saved&source=bl&ots=EDb1rkXTiD&sig=eQrBjcFjqn2pQ7FdCc1sfbXiiNw&hl=en&ei=Vc60S7W9KYmGNIH7nKkJ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=3&ved=0CAwQ6AEwAg#v=onepage&q=zwingli%20socrates%20can%20be%20saved&f=falsePr. H. R.https://www.blogger.com/profile/16756503062523543708noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4778905687600416321.post-87631398242658624882010-03-31T10:02:36.129-05:002010-03-31T10:02:36.129-05:00You're such a Christian, Petersen. That poem i...You're such a Christian, Petersen. That poem is in the same brave tradition of the high pagans. It's the same pathos as reading the Iliad. All is black despair - or grayish doubt. Nothing lies beyond but Hades' shadow halls - or, moving north, Ragnaroek and a complete end. <br /><br />But sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles in the meantime! The Wolf's eyes are on all the hall, but drink up, Wodin, while your one eye sees the green vales of Midgaard!<br /><br />He's as good as a pagan can be: he is brave in the face of what all men know, "Vanity, vanity all is vanity!"<br /><br />Too bad Zwingli was wrong - it would be nice to hoist the cup with Priam's son and sing the sad song of the inevitable fall of Troy.<br /><br />+HRCPr. H. R.https://www.blogger.com/profile/16756503062523543708noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4778905687600416321.post-17146924715997545292010-03-31T08:21:31.631-05:002010-03-31T08:21:31.631-05:00"In grayish doubt and black despair,
I drafte..."In grayish doubt and black despair,<br />I drafted hymns to the earth and the air,"<br /><br />Drafting hymns to earth and air is perfectly in keeping with the spirit of the age. For not only does our age reject sadness but so also only accepts praise, in the way of all the ancient pagans, for nature. <br /><br />But what if he had drafted hymns to God? What if he had not pretended joy but confessed against himself, against his despair? Indeed, such persons fear they are hypocrites, who say they love their wives when they do not feel it, or who come to the Holy Communion when they are filled with doubts. But they are not. They are rather brave men for they subdue the flesh. They confess. They insist on speaking what they know is true (God is good, I love my wife, etc) even when they do not feel it. <br /><br />But if the joy expressed is only to earth and air, I do not know. For it is hard to consider confession, when the poet himself admits it is pretend. And while there is joy in nature, in earth and air, is it not shallow and fleeting when we are facing death? And is it then really joy? And if it is done simply to fit in with our ages refusal to acknowledge sadness, then indeed it is a kind of cowardly conformity. Thus I say, though I do not want to: hypocrite.Petersenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12953264105046882429noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4778905687600416321.post-71198818458169996702010-03-31T08:15:24.871-05:002010-03-31T08:15:24.871-05:00This is a great series. Thanks.This is a great series. Thanks.Petersenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12953264105046882429noreply@blogger.com