I remember there was post on PAN around Reformation Day, asking whether such a divisional event should be celebrated. I’d like to explore this a bit, with the help of my good friend Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy.

To begin with, I think we have to ask what a holiday is? Is it essentially just a big celebration or party? If so, then maybe Reformation Day as a holiday should be carefully considered before we make it an institution. A day to say “Yay us!” and “Crush the RCs!” and whatnot might be counter-productive if you take the long view. (although it might be a lot of fun) The same argument could be made about lots of holidays, though. Take US Independence day. We’re celebrating a war with the British, who have been our allies ever since, essentially. Hm. What are we trying to do?

Well, the thing about Independence day is that we commemorate an event that happened “once for all time” as ERH might put it. That is, before that the US did not exist, but on account of that war it came into existence and exists to this day. It is what makes us Americans, and therefore must exist for us in the form of a holiday in order that we may enter into the event too, so that it becomes part of our lives and experience.

Such things are lost if not commemorated. If we don’t celebrate the holiday, we say the thing is unimportant to us, that it may as well have not happened. It doesn’t touch our lives. That was then, this is now. And we may even be lesser men because of this attitude.

Nature cycles endlessly. Spring-Summer-Fall-Winter-Spring. Over and over and over. One day or month or year may be different from another but it won’t really be remembered. Perhaps you have a hurricane or earthquake, but doesn’t lastingly change anything; it happens and is forgotten. But we men don’t have to be merely natural, we have a surprising chance to be supernatural by making landmarks in time. If something happens that changes us, we make a holiday and in this way the thing is passed on to our children and becomes a part of their lives too.

So back to Reformation Day. The question should be whether something was gained or recovered then that is worth keeping. If so, it is not only okay, but fitting and right for it to be commemorated with a holiday so that what was hard fought for does not become an event belonging to nature, to be forgotten in the past. Of course, it can be argued about what should be passed on, but when deciding whether a thing should be commemorated by a holiday the biggest question should be whether this event belongs to your age or to the ages. And if it is the second, then you’d better do something about it.

Disclaimer: I only referenced Reformation Day because the post that inspired me was on that subject and because it offers a good excuse to think about the nature of holidays. This post is not about the Protestant  Reformation, so please discuss only the topic at hand.

John Ahern scribbles deliriously,

Some storm-tossed sailors have just landed on some coast outside Africa. They’ve just been saved from a gale sent by Juno, who has a thing with these Trojans. Venus, who has a different thing with these Trojans (Aeneas happens to be her son), comes whining to Zeus, calling him out for not keeping his promises to the poor, destitute Trojans. Not particularly worried about pandering to the special interests of lobbyists—he is a somewhat partisan figure himself—Jove consoles Venus, telling her that, in fact, the Trojans’ luck will turn. They’ll settle in Latium and someday have an empire. Bigger than anybody else’s. An imperium sine fine.

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Ella Hansen writes:

I began this poem on New Year’s Eve and finished slightly after midnight. Although the solar year is now nearly two months along, the lunar year, to which the lunar imagery seems fitting, has just begun. In this poem, I was particularly reflecting on my survival of the previous year’s difficulties and trying to look forward with hope.

Once in a blue moon, I look down and see
Around my heart this flesh, pallid and cold
In fear, but living still: So let it be
Tonight, while the full moon is red as gold.
Smoothly and still in safety runs so red
The river’s streams, pulsed, quickened by Your will,
O You the Living Light who ever led
Heart from its wilful darkness, and lead still.
Let me not live unless to seek Your face.
Let me have strength to say: I shall yet live.
Let me not fall save, Lord, upon Your grace.
Let me not doubt You that Your hand will give
          Both in Your sovereign wisdom peace and pain.
          Let me so trust that life is not in vain.

Victoria Blake is impatient to continue…

For some reason, Aida was just standing there. She had gone late, empty handed, to the priest, and the smell of his house was still making its way up her nostrils. Now she was about ten paces from his door, hesitating. For some reason.

She wasn’t looking for an excuse; she was a professional excuse maker now. At first her family had been suspicious: they knew she liked to be alone, but they also knew her mortal fear of the priest. So they thought her sudden propensity toward going late was odd. At first she too thought it was odd. Somehow, though, once she realized the priest was deceivable, she was no longer afraid of him. She had thought him omniscient; now she knew he was just a man like anyone else. It was only heredity that gave him the job. Anyone can be born.

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H. G. Roorda apologizes,

I normally wouldn’t do this, but it’s year three; and I’d hate to disappoint him now.

This isn’t a normal poem;  I only wrote two words. The rest are stolen from John Donne, Emily Dickinson, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Robert Frost. Is this a valid form of poetry? No, probably not. But perhaps it will broaden your knowledge. Before using Google, you might try your hand at discerning who wrote what: View Full Post

P. James McCord writes,

Caves

but for all those twisting tunnels,

stalactooned and misty-moist,

(where ghosty happenedings hide)

lair of barely-something thoughts,

those delve-deeped, dripped, sunk-secret caves

of my mind –

perhaps you might have seen it too

(I mean that far-off, shining hope

I tried to make you understand).

oh well.

it shimmered,

blue amid the sands,

and drained into unspoken lands.

Easter Island

roll o’er, rising

flush with sky

colors spritzed and cold

against that mystic king-cream

mountain-cloud

that swirls his warm breath over me

roll, roll on, roll over rising

backdrop of the sun-cracked trees

presents me like some meagre sacrifice

alone before this ancient tide -

a small, tear-beaded statue on a

time-soaked shore

loll and fritz-roll

living pink-skied sea!

bid my thoughts be still

before your splash-spread, mute monotony -

pouring out some barbarous peace

quell such civil blasphemies

Holli Herdeg writes,

Recently, for a course in world religions required by my high school, I had the opportunity to research and write a paper on the Islamic view of abortion– personally, I found it fascinating. As a sort of maiden post, I thought to share it in a set of two parts– at the very least, that’s how many sections I expect this paper to require. We’ll see.

Islam stands with Judaism and Christianity as one of the three great monotheistic religions. Its adherents number over one billion[1] and are spread out across the globe. Known for its conservatism, as the abortion campaign becomes ever more important in the West, the question arises of how Islam views abortion. According to the earliest Islamic tradition—and now, the more liberal factions of Islamic scholars, abortion is permissible before the one-hundred and twentieth day of pregnancy[2], but not after. However, conservative Islamic scholars, upon closer examination of both the Qur’an, the hadiths, and the writings of the imams, have determined that after the implantation of the fetus in the uterus, the potential for ensoulment is enough to place a ban on abortion, save for cases in which the mother’s life is in danger.

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