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The Word Became Flesh
A word is a separate thing from that which it describes. It is also linked by meaning to the thing it describes. Meaning unites the word and its object inseparably. A rose is a rose is a rose. The object gives meaning to the word and the word becomes inseparable from the object. One can no longer exist without the other. This is so true, that it is safe to say that no thing or concept can exist in our minds without us naming it.
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Advent Musings
Advent Season unfolds in the midst of carnival-like barkers vying for our attention. The halls are all being decked while marketing agents scheme to capture our imagination. Colorful brochures arrive daily; on television sixty-second episodes guarantee happiness or satisfaction if the product being hawked is purchased. Amid all the hoopla it is easy to slip into the commercialization trap.
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The Hot Coal of Immortality
Seventeenth century poet and cleric John Donne is one of my favourite writers. Because of his unique perspective, writing four hundred years ago, his poems, prose, and sermons are are adorned with insightful metaphors that delight and challenge the modern reader. The delight is in the insight; the challenge is in deciphering the archaic spelling and cultural references. Donne was a contemporary of Shakespeare, and I am often thankful for the explanatory notes that accompany his writings.
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Sailing Through the Storm 2
My son-in-law Darren is a sailing enthusiast. The combination of the wildness of the wind and the discipline of navigation suits him, as he is both an outdoorsman and an engineer. He has learned to manoeuvre his craft under all sorts of conditions, including unfavourable ones.
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Sailing Through the Storm 1
While vacationing in Florida, a friend of mine decided to try his hand at deep-sea fishing. He rose early in the morning to board a boat that had been specially outfitted to give tourists the thrill of a lifetime - the challenge of landing a huge trophy fish from the deep waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The passengers were giddy with anticipation as salt spray flew out of the sunrise into their eager faces. It wasn't long, however, before quite different feelings were stirring within them.
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Our Disturbing World
Divide the human race into twenty parts. Nineteen of them are composed of those who work with their hands,... In the remaining twentieth part, how few men do we find who read! And among those who do read there are twenty who read novels for every one who studies philosophy. The number of those who think is exceedingly small, and they are not aiming to disturb the world. - Voltaire
