TOO BUSY

"We are often so caught up in our activities

that we tend to worship our work,

work at our play,

and play at our worship."

Gordon Dahl

AN ATHEIST'S VIEW

I read this recently in the UK Guardian. An interesting observationfrom an avowed
atheist on the rise of the new aggressive atheism of Richard Dawkins and the like.

ALL A RACKET ?

Albert Einstein's letter, containing a short rant about God and the Bible, sold recently for 25 times its expected price - thanks, in part, to professional atheist Richard Dawkins being one of the unsuccessful bidders.
It's long been said that religion is a racket. Sales figures of other anti-God rants - much longer than Einstein's letter to Eric Gutkind - suggest that atheism may be catching up. But is it good for the atheists?
As we know, it helps to have a book in circulation. Dawkins' recent work The God Delusion is nowhere near as big as the Bible, but shifting 1.5m copies is more than respectable. Book sales have a legitimizing effect. It's not just the growing number of readers who may be converted by a polemic. Monetary success confers an impressive, almost magical, aura…
What would Einstein do? His views on religion can't be summed up in one letter. They were, in some respects, inconsistent. Religion being what it is - huge, ancient, diverse - only the fanatical or the very dim can have a consistent response to its existence. Einstein found religion "childish" but described atheists as creatures who, harbouring a grudge, were resistant to "the music of the spheres." In other words, resentful puritans.
For it is not only Einstein's "music of the spheres" but music in general that must be tossed out when you refuse to appreciate religion. If you champion the splendours and benefits of Western culture, while claiming to oppose religion entirely, you are, metaphorically speaking, tone deaf.
Whether your preference is Bach, Britten, Palestrina, Kanye West or Earth, Wind and Fire, you'll find some aspect of Christianity in the details. But reggae - such as The Melodians doing Rivers of Babylon, based on a psalm of the exiled Jews - can't easily be separated from religion, either. Run from religion, if you must, but you can't hide from song, sculpture, poetry, architecture, painting, tourism or food.
Given that the influence of religion over the centuries has made them what they are, I can't help seeing something crude in the impulse for some to bash it. As a "cafeteria" atheist and secular Catholic, I don't share that impulse. Religion has given us some rather fabulous architecture, a lot of excellent paintings, a variety of head coverings - from yarmulkes through wimples, veils and turbans - which I , for one, find fascinating.
Some of my fellow atheists are to non-belief what being nouveau riche is to the traditionally rich. It's as though they've just discovered God doesn't exist, and they can't wait to tell you all about it. I cringe each time one of these noisy non-believers gets on their soap box. Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens have helped me to understand how a genteel Anglican must feel about some of those "other" Protestants.
Some of us are too delicate for evangelical excess. Whether it's atheistic or religious, we find it embarrassing. Yes, religion can be abusive, and we're often told that religion causes war. When people kill each other in the name of religious identity, it's sickening. If I thought evangelical atheism could end violence, I would be happy to tolerate the embarrassment factor. But I'm not convinced it can.
Christopher Hitchens, declaring that "god is not great," seems to have designed this phrase expressly to piss off the worshipful. Religion may be childish but so is a show of disrespect. If we're so comfortable in our non-belief, do we need to go around nettling the believers?

Tracy Quan

PASCAL'S GOD

THE GOD OF COMFORT

The God of Christians is not a God who is simply the author of mathematical truths, or of the order of the elements; that is the view of heathens and Epicureans.
He is not merely a God who exercises His providence over the life and fortunes of men, to bestow on those who worship Him a long and happy life. That was the portion of the Jews.
But the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God of Christians, is a God of love and of comfort, a God who fills the soul and heart of those whom He possesses, a God who makes them conscious of their inward wretchedness, and His infinite mercy, who unites Himself to their inmost soul, who fills it with humility and joy, with confidence and love, who renders them incapable of any other end than Himself.

Blaise Pascal

Pascal was a child prodigy, educated by his father. He was a mathematician of distinction, writing the Essai pour les coniques at age 16 and inventing a calculating machine 2 years later to assist his father who was a Royal Tax Commissioner. Pascal did work on Torricelli’s experiments with Barometers and the theory of air pressure and subsequently gave one of the clearest statements of the scientific method in the 17 th Century. Later in his career he devoted himself to philosophical and religious questions producing a large volume of written works addressing these subjects. Pascal had a faith crises from 1652 to 1654 turning away from his religious interests and pursuing a life of wanton self indulgence. However, on the night of November 23rd 1654 Pascal had a conversion experience, experiencing an ecstatic vision that lasted for 2 hours. It is said he kept an account of that vision in the lining of his coat right up to his death on August 17th 1662

AIDAN POWER 4 th ANNIVERSARY

Aidan Power 1947 ~ 2008

Dear Friend,

It doesn’t seem like four years since you left us in such a frantic hurry.I recall that Tuesday getting the call from your sister Phyllis, who had noticed your curtains drawn late into the afternoon,
And driving from my job to your house.Waiting outside in the car watching the comings and goings of ambulance personnel and Gardai, as the awful truth of your departure dawned.How could the welcoming, always open door of your house lead to such a dreadful scene ?
Your lifeless body cold and alone on the landing at the top of the stairs.That was an awful day Aidan, the realisation that you were gone and the inexplicable manner of your departure.Numbed is the word people use to describe indescribable grief, I wasn’t numbed but felt every pang of heartache and despair as the ending of your sweet life swept over me like a murky floodwater.You spent your days striving to do the right thing by God, by your family, and your friends, in fact by anyone who needed a helping hand.Your days spent probing the Scriptures and seeking God’s face.Reconciling the theory of Christian doctrine with the reality of how to work it out in the world.
You stumbled as we all do, but more often than most, you showed the character of your Master in the life you lived.
Today my old friend I trust you are resting in Jesus’ everlasting arms.
Home at last and at peace.

Gerry

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks to Aidan's brother Philip who sent me the following piece of his abiding memory of Aidan.

In the twilight glow I see him
Aidan Sleeping in his chair.
As we said good-bye and parted,
I knew we'd never talk again.

Love is like a dying ember.
Where only memories remain.
Through the ages I'll remember-
Aidan sleeping in his chair

Now my hair has turned to silver.
All my life I've loved in vain.
I can see his star in heaven.
Aidan sleeping in his chair

Someday when we meet up yonder,
We'll stroll together once again.
In a land that knows no parting-
Aidan sleeping in his chair

(after the song by Fred Rose)

EMILY'S VALENTINE

SOUL SELECTOR

With all the hype of Valentines Day just around the corner I thought this little 'love' poem would be the perfect antidote to the versified drivel that raises its commercial head at this time of year ! Dickinson's poem packs a powerful punch as you know from reading these twelve lines that this lady knows all about real love and knows whom she has set that love on ! Oh for such certainty , I hear some of you cry ! ~GOSh.~

The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

Emily Dickinson

FRANK PHILLIPS - 3 rd ANNIVERSARY

Frank on the 'London Eye'

RICH MEMORIES

Three years ago today my uncle, Frank Phillips died at age 86 , though his memory is still vivid for those of us who knew and loved him. We shall not forget his forensic memory for tales and places of long ago, his love of English and the repository of poetry he kept in his head from his schooldays. He is also remembered for his sense of mischief and how he delighted in ‘rising’ people to the limit and sometimes beyond ! He was trenchant in his views from immigrants to people with an intellectual disability (a term he never used !) and he seldom gave any ground in an argument.

With sister, Bridie

What I miss most about Frank on this his third Anniversary is his huge sense of nostalgia for the past and his detailed accounts of growing up in rural Ireland in the lean years of the 1930’s. The fields he ploughed, the potatoes he planted, the horse and cart he drove, all recalled by him with an intensity of emotion that brought them back to life in the telling. He came from a generation where life was hard and everything was earned by laborious toil and many became so caught up in the tough business of ‘living’ that not much thought was given to anything else.

Always on the ball !

Frank though was always one to reflect on the bigger issues of life and informed by his wide selection of reading reached conclusions that didn’t always square up with the prevailing norms in the society around him. He maintained this ‘maverick’ streak right up to the end of his life and inspired me, especially as a younger man to plough my own furrow and think for myself. Thank you Frank for the richness of your legacy and those precious memories of your life which are very present with us today as we commemorate your passing.

Gerard O'Shea

Taking the sun in Villiers Square

THE PROMISE