The Reformation challenged the theological, political
and traditional misfortunes of the Catholic Church and in the process of
revolutionizing new ways to redemption they seem to have forgotten the seminal
and transcending influence of the early church fathers in understanding the
mystery of interpreting scripture. There
is no mystery in the likes of Luther and Calvin who knew the can of worms they
just pried open would invite everyone with a pen and ink to interpret as they
saw fit.
What would they believe now?
I hear the argument what difference does all of this make?
Seven years I never imagined I’d be still spooked by a
spook. What difference does any of it
make it doesn’t if you lived off the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Not one speck of difference. I wish we could all be there now, eating
tacos, drinking beer, saying see ya to the sun a million times.
2.14.16
Three students came for this morning’s one hour class,
two came ten minutes late, I understand, my clock isn’t as important as your
clock and I can live with it. We talked
about the holiday tomorrow, there isn’t an official name I’ve heard yet they’re
saying it is to celebrate the Soviet withdrawal from the country on February
15, 1989. So I will celebrate how I
don’t know. I have to get blue board
marker ink off my kameez, I guess I’ll be doing laundry.
Moby Dick is looking at me, wondering if I should read
her when I finish Armstrong. I don’t know, it’s old English I need to be in a
state of mind that isn’t stopping every third sentence wondering what Melville
is saying.
It was so cold last night I poured hot water into a
clear glass mug with my tea bag and in seconds the mug broke right in
half.
11:24am—I have to turn the
space heater on again. The sun is warm
outside but I can’t keep the window open anymore. My fingers and toes are numb, so here we sit,
that big ugly toefl book is lying around somewhere, I have a coffee, three
cigarettes left, gee I know I am smoking more now what to do, and Thai Buddha
chants on low hopefully will keep me somewhat productive. Ok, what should we do?
I was almost late for yesterday afternoon’s class
because I was completely absorbed in reading about the Council of Nicaea and
some of them fellas like Eusibeious, I can’t spell his name, and Iraenous, I
can’t spell his name either.
There was a lot of politics involved in getting a creed
down pat that everyone could agree on.
And there’s nothing there in that creed a protestant can object to.
Islam needs a 21st century creed every
mullah can agree on.
“We believe in the Holy Spirit, in the
uncreated and the perfect; Who spoke through the Law, prophets, and Gospels;
Who came down upon the Jordan, preached through the apostles, and lived in the
saints.” from The Armenian Translated version
What exactly is the uncreated? Voices outside my door. The Thai monk’s healing chant is very
Thai. I cannot type quickly with gloves
on.
8:14pm—These are the
coldest nights of the year, the moon inches westward, I’m watching you mother
moon. Don’t do anything unless you let
me know first, right?
Hanukkah recreated his battles with the Soviets in the
entry hall, I was told he killed two dozen soldiers. Tonight he showed the scar on the nape of his
neck and he pantomimed and I didn’t understand anything.
The timing is right for a socialist to lead our
country. Inequality, from it springs how
many of our evils? Another yet another
first, a socialist Jewish-American from Brooklyn, a follow up to the Cusp, a
pattern is coming at us from billion year old gravitational waves…let’s surf,
shall we?
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