Upholding God’s word, part II: when your child is not your child

Let this be the way that I go,
And the life that I try,
My feet being firm in the field,
And my heart in the sky.
Philip Britt

It was May 2nd, the day the Chruch recognizes St Athanasius, a true defender of the
Holy Trinity, when I caught the latest episode of Anglican Unscripted featuring our
favorite rouge cleric Gavin Ashenden.

Before beginning his interview, the good Bishop made note of the feast day of this
former bishop within the Chruch, St Athanasius.
An obscure saint to most of the faithful but none the less important in the
history of our faith…
His is the story of a man who stood up in defense of the Godhead of Christ
when the early church was being run amuck in heresy.

Not much different it appears from our own current run amuck days.

St. Athanasius
A champion of orthodoxy!
He did not die a martyr, but his life was martyrdom in the truest sense.
Athanasius was the Church’s greatest hero in the battle against Arianism
(a heresy that denied Christ’s divinity).

“the entire Catholic congregation with one accord, as one soul and body,
voiced the wish of the dying bishop Alexander that Athanasius should succeed him.
Everyone esteemed him as a virtuous, holy man, an ascetic, a true bishop.”

Bishop of Alexandria and a great defender of the orthodox faith,
throughout his, life opposed the Arian heresy.
By denying the Godhead of the Word the Arians turned Christ into a mere man,
only higher in grace than others in the eyes of God.
St. Athanasius took part in the Council of Nicea in 325 and until the end remained a champion
of the faith as it was defined by the Council. Even as a young deacon at the Council.
he was recognized as “Arius’ ablest enemy” and the foremost defender of the Church’s faith.
After the death of his bishop (328),
“the entire Catholic congregation with one accord,
as one soul and body, voiced the wish of the dying bishop Alexander that
Athanasius should succeed him.
Everyone esteemed him as a virtuous, holy man, an ascetic, a true bishop.”
In him the Church venerates one of her great Doctors.
He was subjected to persecutions for upholding the true teaching concerning the person
of Christ and was sent into exile from his see no less than five times.
He died at Alexandria in 373 after an episcopate of forty-six years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The good bishop began the interview with a reflection on the life and death of Alfie Evans–
the young boy I wrote about the other day in the post “When your child is not your child”

https://cookiecrumbstoliveby.wordpress.com/2018/04/30/when-your-child-is-not-your-child/

I found it important to hear the perspective of the good bishop—
the perspective of one who is British and understands better than I do
the workings of the healthcare system and the legal system in the UK.

Bishop Ashenden notes that this all boils down to a pure rank prejudice as to why the
British Court wouldn’t allow Alfie’s parents to be what is their God-given responsibility…
that being Alfie’s parents.
Parents tasked with making those hard decisions for their own children…
and not a legal system who blatantly decrees that it is the one who knows
what is best for a child not its own.

For as parents, it is our Divine responsibility to mirror the parenthood of God the Father,
a Father who sent His only begotten son so that we may have eternal life…

The Godhead of the parent to the Son.

Bishop Ashenden explains that at first, this was basically a case about a power struggle.
It was a struggle for power between the medical professionals who decreed that they knew best
for the child over that of Alfie’s own two parents.

But it turned more sinister and very anti-Christian when Alfie’s Catholic parents stated
that the Pope, along with the Italian Government who had granted Alfie citizenship,
offered to bring Alfie to Rome in order to receive continued care in Italy versus terminated
care in the UK.
No matter if that care was for 24 hours or 24 days, etc.

So wouldn’t any parent, no matter how dire the circumstances may be,
opt for, as well as cling to, any ray of hope???
That hope being, in this case, the generosity of both the Pope and Italy?!

Yet the judge involved, who happens to be an ardent Gay Rights supporter and known for his
outspoken disdain of Christianity, brought in the element of anti-parent and anti-Christian and
anti-Chruch by putting state and secular values before the values of the Gospel.

He ruled that Alfie could not leave the country for care elsewhere and that the hospital
should remove all life support from the child ASAP.

The child would then be expected to die immediately.

But Alfie did not die immediately.

He actually lived for 4 days…

And here is where the sinister enters in…
the hospital, seeing that the child would not die, withheld any and all sustenance, water,
IVs, fluids, noursihment…in essence murdering this 23-month-old child.

With the argument being that he would die anyway so why prolong the inevitable.

But do we mere mortals ever really know the inevitable or rahter merely the assumed?

So let us imagine for this moment the sheer hopeless anguish this young couple felt for
their child.
As his parents, it is their innate prewired disposition to protect, care for, nurture,
console, help, aid, and sustain their child.
It is what we as parents do…
Just as God the Father has so bestowed upon us all with His being the pinacle example.

Baby In My Arms I Took

Baby in my arms I took
Through the gentle night,
Tawny, tawny were the clouds,
By the moon alight.

And we found a golden tree,
All alone and old,
Standing in the tawny light,
Palm tree made of gold.

Golden palm tree, bend your head,
Tell my baby why
Here you stand all tawny-gold,
With your head so high.

Whispered then the golden palm,
Bending low and near,
“Long ago another Child
Found me standing here;

And He gave me leaves of gold,
Laughing in His glee,
Saying ‘When the babies come,
Speak to them of me.'”
Philip Britt
September 5, 1943

friends and mates

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends.
I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
―Jane Austen

(the latest friend in the dammit family / Julie Cook / 2016)

Over the course of the past weekend, my son and his wife moved into their new apartment.
They did so with the help of group of friends.
Going from a house in the suburbs to a smaller apartment in the city will naturally take some adjusting,
however I think their level of excitement is far exceeding any need for adjustment.

I mention that they had a group of friends helping because that got me thinking.
Whereas my dear friends, or better yet mates, in the UK would naturally say
that it was my son’s mates who helped him out…
with mates referring to his friends,
I simply use the word friends…

All variances of semantics I suppose.

Yet when hearing the word friends referred to as mates,
I find that I actually prefer using the word mates as opposed to friends.

Friends come in all sorts of varying degrees of difference.
Close friends,
dear friends,
intimate friends,
partner,
buddy,
pal,
associates,
acquaintances,
roommates,
co-workers,
colleagues…
all of which constitute falling under the one umbrella of the collective word friends.
Some close, some really close, some not so close…

In my opinion however, the word mate, or the plural form mates, seems to refer to a tighter knit connection.
A closer level of familiarity and knowledge.

And when it comes to moving house—
especially with moving from a larger house to a smaller apartment almost 70 miles away,
it takes a really tight knit group of “friends,” hence mates,
volunteering their precious weekend time to drive back and forth,
hauling, lifting, toting, dissembling, reassembling the possessions of another….

As perhaps one’s mates come with a certain level of deeper commitment,
whereas ones friends fluctuate.

And of course in this country we refer to a spouse as a mate.
As in a pair.
As in a help mate.
As in soul mate.
As in a union of two becoming one.

So once again, mate having a tighter connection than just that of friend.

And as we so often refer to our Savior as our friend…
having the relationship with Jesus, as Lord and Savior is anything but that of a friend…
Despite hymns singing to the contrary and many who reference Him as their best friend…
there is difference between friend and God….

For the Xristósis, the Christos, the Anointed One, the Messiah, the Christ…
is far greater than that of friend.
He and His relationship with us, those who claim Him as God,
exceeds the confine of friendship..

Being both God and Spirit, as He is of the Triune Godhead,
He commands so much more than our mere friendship…

Rather He commands our awe and wonderment…
And our reverence and our homage.

For He is not a mere friend,
not even a mate…
but rather a Sovereign God…

A God who cares about both our physical and emotional wants and needs,
yet deserves our reverence, our wonderment, our praise, our worship…

It is good to have friends, even better to have great mates…
but most importantly it behooves us to have a Savior, who gave His very life
for each and every last one of us…..

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners,
Christ died for us.
Romans 5:8

Good for the goose

“A wild goose never reared a tame gosling.”
Irish Proverb quotes

The early Celtic Christians called the Holy Spirit ‘the wild goose.’ And the reason why is they knew that you cannot tame him.
John Eldredge

(a goose in search of his breakfast Harvey’s Point Lodge, Louge Eske , County Donegal, Ireland / Julie Cook)

An Geadh-Glas, otherwise known to English speakers as the wild goose, is most likely the furtherest thought in one’s mind when thinking about Christianity, Christian symbolism or especially when pondering the most mysterious component of the Triune Godhead, the Holy Spirit.

Yet the early Celtic Church, that amazing amalgamation of deeply mystical Christianity and equally mystical yet enigmatic Celtic culture, saw not a docile gentle cooing dove as the supreme representative of God’s Spirit but rather the often loud, raucous, stubborn and determined goose as a more true emblematic example of God’s most untamed and fiercely determined nature–a nature much like their own.

The Celts were a fierce warrior nation comprised of the bloodlines of Vikings, Danes, Druids, Picts and members of the northern regions of ancient Albion (northern Great Britain)
The Roman Empire never occupied Ireland, nor did the Anglo Saxons who later filled the void in the Birtish Isles following the fall of Rome.

These very supertisious people were fiercely independent, steeped in their haunting pagan rituals and customs–much of which remain as a continuing mystery to modern historians and archeologists.

(Drombeg stone circle, known as the Druid’s altar, County Cork, Ireland /Julie Cook / 2015)

(Drombeg stone circle, known as the Druid’s altar, County Cork, Ireland /Julie Cook / 2015)

It was in this land of lush misty covered greens, haunting shifting shadows and talk of the wee folk…where land, sea and sky join as one, that both C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolken roamed, finding abundant inspiration for each of their most famous literary works.

(Killarney National Park within the Ring of Kerry / Julie Cook / 2015)

(Killarney National Park within the Ring of Kerry / Julie Cook / 2015)

“Lá fhéile Pádraig sona dhuit, translated simply as St Patrick, is probably the best known and most famous Irishman who in actuality was Scottish by birth. Patrick had been spirited away to Ireland as a young child by marauding pirates yet eventually became the revered patron saint of the entire Irish nation. It is Patrick who is credited for not only having introduced Christianity to the Emerald Isle, but for being the “designer” behind what we know as the celtic cross.
That most familiar image of a latin cross wrapped with a circle.

(celtic cross in the graveyard at Dumcliff Church / County Sligo, Ireland / 2015 / Julie Cook)

It is said that the pagan Celts considered the sun to be an integral part of their worship. Circles have been found etched and carved on many excavated Celtic ruins. I think it’s rather easy to understand the importance behind worshiping the sun for the Celts— if you’ve ever spent much time in Ireland, you know how wet and grey it can be. There are parts of Ireland which receive up to 225 days of wet rainy weather each year, in turn making any and all sunny days a rare and treasured commodity.

Patrick had to be inovative if he wanted to get the Celts attention and gain their trust as the ultimate goal was total conversion and allegiance to the one true God. So Patrick set about with a brilliant plan combining both a component most important to the Celtic nation, that being the sun–a revered circle, bridging the abyss to the most important image to Christians, the Latin cross, with the addition of a circle ringing around the cross–a combination representing both sun and Son as the circle is also a Christian symbol representing God’s endlessness.

(covering of one of the many purported wells used by Patrick to baptized the new converts to Christ, found buried near the site of present day St Patrick’s Cathedral /Dublin, Ireland / 2015 / Julie Cook)

Patrick is also considered as the one person who established the shamrock as one of Ireland’s most endearing symbols. The Celts were an agrarian nation as Ireland is a rich fertile island due in part to being on the receiving end of the warming and wet energies of the Atlantic gulf stream. As an island people they were deeply connected, attuned as well as dependent on the land. So Patrick utilized those things that were common and entrenched in the common man’s life. A most humble yet prolific example being the clover. The clover was a perfect teaching tool as it so beautifully manifests the image of the Holy Trinity.

(early clover images on an ancient carving on a crypt in St Patrick’s Cathedral / Dublin, Ireland / 2015)

In the early days of the young Christian Church, many a humble yet determined monk of the fledgling Christian Church came and went from this mystical isle in hopes of further spreading the Gospel.
Some traveled freely while others sadly disappeared…lost in time…victims of pirates, invaders, and local hostilities.

(plaque commemorating the lives of the Teelin monks who set sail for Iceland in the 5th century / Teelin , Slieve League, County Donegal, Ireland / Julie Cook / 2015)

Yet for all the anguished years of famine and immigrations, for all of her tumultuous history of waring invaders and defiant fought battles, Ireland has held fiercely fast and tight to her Christian roots. We are all aware of the growing insidious cloud of secularism that is sweeping across Europe and Western society…we are also all painfully aware of Ireland’s past “troubles”—the deep and often bloody mistrust and resentment between north and south, Catholic and Protestant, British Crown and Independent…yet despite all the years of bloodshed, turmoil, both internal and external, Ireland has laid claim and held on undeterred to her faith…a faith of deep respect for the God of all Salvation as well as the Great Creator of both land and sea, heaven and sky.

(both cat and goose wait for feeding / Harvey’s Point Lodge, County Donegal / Julie Cook / 2015)

Christ be with me
Christ before me
Christ behind me
Christ in me
Christ beneath me
Christ above me
Christ on my right
Christ on my left
Christ where I lie
Christ where I sit
Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man
who thinks of me
Christ in the mouth of every man
who speaks of me
Christ in every eye that sees me
Christ in every ear that hears me
Salvation is of the Lord.</em>

Symbolism

I can remember sitting in my 10th grade English class reading either Main Street by Sinclair Lewis or Our Town by Thornton Wilder—either way, there was a story about some fictionalized small American early 20th century town and our teacher was keen on having us unmask all of the symbolism.

I recall rolling my eyes, once again, wondering why this couldn’t be just some sort of story that simply means what it says and says what it means—does there always have to be “symbolism” behind everything!? Can’t it just be a story for the sake of a story? Why can’t people just write what they mean without having to hide it, leaving the poor reader (in this case me) to not only read something (I) deemed as boring but tasked with, on top of everything else, trying to figure out what on earth the author was trying to say.

To this day I tend to be rather direct in my own thoughts, words and deeds, eschewing hidden meanings…but this is not a story about that. I am also a person who is now very intrigued by symbolism but not necessarily that which involves conspiracy theories, bizarre ancient cults, free masons, or what Leonardo da Vinci was attempting to tell the world in buried secrets throughout his art work …this rather, is a story about The Holy Trinity— The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit and my relationship with this group of Three. Talk about symbolism…

As a Christian, I am here to say that I learn something new each and every day about what it means to be a Christian…from not only the history of our Faith, but to what it means to live one’s life as such, not to mention how much I learn from others who are living examples of this thing we call our Christian Faith…. there is always something new to learn and encounter.

Our Faith is a living Faith—which I think equates to ever growing, ever changing, ever moving. As we live, our Faith lives—it lives through our actions, our words and our deeds—that’s why, when Mother Teresa says for us to “spread the love of God through our lives but only use words when necessary,” she is speaking to the fact that God’s love is present to others through our actions, by our “doing”—the spoken word is merely secondary…as it is our actions, and actions alone, which speak volumes. Unfortunately many of us forget this fact during the living of our oh so busy lives…

To understand my Faith, I need to look at the three components, which makes it so vastly different from all of the other religions of the world and that is the concept of the Trinity—The Father, The Son, and the Holy Ghost/ Spirit. The Three in One. But how can that be? How are three, one? This is an age old question that is asked, and has been asked down through the ages, by many believers as well as non-believers. It is a perplexing mystery and yet so simple.

The omnipotent God and Creator, the Alpha and Omega Son and Savior, the ever-present Spirit and Helper or Paraclete. As I am not versed in theology, I am not here to debate the roles and existence of the Godhead Trinity. I am not here to debate the glitch in the progression of that Trinity which brings contention between western and eastern Christians; I am, however, here to tell you that I marvel in the very existence of the Three in One.

It is in my marveling that leads me to often yearn to have a tangible connection. I yearn to make a connection. A connection with that Godhead of Three. I yearn to explore the beauty of the unity of the Three in One. It is a complex layering of relationships. There is a “connectiveness” which in turn yearns to bring me in to that very connection and bond of the Three.

There are many aspects to me and to my little blog, as the blog is just a bit of an extension as to what makes me, me. I love to cook, I love to travel, I currently have a broken ankle, I am a retired art teacher, I like sharing with others, I feel, that even though I may be a retired educator, I still feel as if I have things to “teach”. I have an aging father who is dealing with a fading memory. I have a son who is working very hard to finish his degree, and he has a fiancée,so that means I have a daughter-n-law to be, I have a husband who works very hard to run his small business, but at the core of all of that is the single fact that I am a Christian. I am a part of an ancient and living Faith.

In my art I have often tried to reach towards the Divine. Not on some grand scale as those bigger than life artists have in the past. Not like some esoteric new age artist. No, I have merely just wanted to make a connection between me, the created, who yearns to know the Creator.

There is a contemporary song that has a line in it that really strikes at a chord within me when I hear it. It is from Love Song for A Savior by Jars of Clay:

Someday He’ll call her and she will come running
And fall in His arms and the tears will fall down and she’ll pray,
“I want to fall in love with You”
(here is a link to a lovely little You Tube video based on the song, it is a song about the loving arms of Jesus, unlike the depiction used in the on-line Christian dating service of the arms being that of a couple—totally wrong use of the song, but I digress http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_wb38KMXLs )

I often feel as if that song is talking to me… I simply don’t quite yet understand, I don’t quite get it… but one day I will and when I do, I will run into those outstretched arms…those arms that will actually be there—tangible arms…. All I want is to run into His arms and finally feel that embrace of unconditional love. To simply rest in that embrace. The embrace that knows all of the junk and crap I carry and doesn’t care. The embrace that is bigger and stronger than any fret or worry, any pain or sorrow I have ever known. The thought of such is overwhelming to me—it brings me to tears. I want that—I somehow think all humans yearn for that—and that is the bond of Father and child.

Many hardened hearts however hear such and call it sentimental gibberish. They scoff at the idea of a “loving” Father, a resurrected Son/Savior, a descending wind left to “Help”— This however is not gibberish, this is all about Grace, pure and simple… but as Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us, it is a costly Grace. Not all of us wish to take on that type of cost in order to follow. Following does require much from us, it requires our very being—and it is a struggle for Believers each and every day.

So I suppose, when working with my art, I enjoy exploring that “feeling” as well as for the use of symbolism, which makes up much of the Christian Faith. I appreciate the relationship Christianity shares with Judaism. I think a lot of Christians forget that Jesus was not a Christian—he was a very devout and religious Jew. Therefore our Faiths are inextricably linked. I like exploring that eternal link between our two faiths.

And as one who loves history, I like exploring the history of our Faith—from our earliest Roman and Greek roots to our links with the Celts as well as for our bonds with the eastern cultures of the Orthodox Christians—as there is more that binds us rather than divides us—I just wish we could all remember that.

I am also one who deeply and greatly appreciates the depth of the rich Christian traditions—I greatly appreciate those bells and whistles, or bells and scents if you will, of the early church. No modernism for me—there is a mystery that is still retained in our rituals and rites, based on and within the early baby church, which speaks to an ancient chord in my soul. The mystery of what takes place during the service of the Eucharist—the Transubstantiation, the Mystery, the Change, the Trans-Elementation, μεταστοιχείωσις metastoicheiosis, is just that, a mystery—one that I cannot necessarily ever understand as I am the created and not the Creator.

It is not for me to pick apart this Holy Union and attempt putting it under a microscope for definition or worldly explanation of knowledge. God remains a mystery—and so He should. He has broken it down in terms that you and I can understand—there is Love, Action, Compassion, Empathy, Concern, Sacrifice, and a few others words that put this Mystery in a language we can better understand.

I will never totally understand, as it is not for me to do so, but it is for me to wonder, to exalt, to glorify, to love, to share and I hope I do so, in some small tangible way for others…….

This latest piece I completed, which is still waiting to be framed, is about 3ft by 3 ft. It explores visually the connection of The Trinity—tying in aspects of all 3 into one piece.
It is a cutout, layered piece that symbolizes the depth of layers to our relationship with the Godhead Trinity. A picture does not do it justice as the literal depth of the piece is lost.

These other framed pieces are also large and unfortunately as they are framed it is difficult photographing them due to reflections and glare.

(all art and Photographs by Julie Cook)