Our modern times are saturated with media: print media, broadcast media on radio, TV and on-demand media via the Internet and mail-order video services like Netflix. We have video billboards and ads running on monitors in grocery stores and banks. Go to any drug store and find the drug store's generic brand product styled just like the name brand one, taking deceptive advantage of the visual recognition that the brand name style commands. Pop music and music videos also provide extensive consumables to us that, though they are more about entertainment and some underlying meaning, many fail to convey a meaning of significance, either to the author's personhood or to that of the listener/consumer.
As in my other posts, let us look for a moment at the etymology of the phrase we use to encapsulate all of these things: "media." From the Wikipedia article on Media, we find that there are many varied topics concerning the term "media" and that the one thing they have in common is the idea of a "go-between." Terms like "immediate" and "intermediate" may further help us to characterize what "media" means. Immediate refers to the lack of something "media" and "intermediate" refers to something that is "between the media." "Media" itself refers to the middle of something. Applying this to what we call media nowadays, be it in print, audio, video, or a combination of those, they all fall "in the middle" of something. For us who consume media, our side of "the middle" is the receiving end, and on the other side of the medium is some meaning or significance. So the medium (media is plural) conveys or translates or embodies the meaning or significance intended and brings it to us, who read, listen, or watch it.
It would seem dysfunctional should the case arise in which one side of the medium is nonexistent, namely, the recipient/consumer was unaware of the presence of the medium, in which case the meaning would not be communicated, or if there was no significance or meaning at the source of the medium, in which case words, sounds, and images would be received but as arbitrary sensory stimulations only.
This post is motivated by the occasional incidence of pop music into my life. Songs like that which was performed at the Superbowl Half-time show this year, "Tonight's gonna be a good night" tell of the bliss of the party scene and the fleeting pleasure of sexual encounters. So many "pop sensations" are just that - all feeling with no sense of enduring value, virtue, or faith. Art need not be expressive of the infinite to be of value; certainly through the mediation of something finite (such as nature), the infinite may be implied and the participation of the finite in the infinite by its nature gives value to its expression in some form of art.
Those of you who know me know that I enjoy a lot of country music. Some country music is about a farm boy lusting after a girl while he plows the fields. Some country music is about grandpa sitting on the porch pondering the meaning of life. Some country music is about a single mom caring for her baby in the face of great trials (Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take the Wheel" and "Temporary Home"). Rascal Flatts' "Why" sings in disbelief of one who committed suicide, wondering figuratively what would "make you leave the stage in the middle of a song." Some country music is about fighting to conform our human nature to its divine purpose (Brad Paisley's "Letter to Me") taking the advice of those older than ourselves and even taking the advice of our own clear-headed selves in times of trouble or despair. These speak of enduring values and experiences that are pleasurable, gratifying, or significant, even to the point of death.
It is often not worth our effort to analyze media and artwork that may have little value to prove precisely how little value it has or to perfect it; there is plenty out there that does have obvious value and yields great fruits when that value is explored further. However, there are iconic and "sensational" works that demand the attention of scholars in order that the masses are not led astray by the errors of those works (e.g. Dan Brown's da Vinci Code, the Harry Potter series, the fascination with vampires, etc). It is in these cases that humble scholars and holy people like Fr. Lanteri (founder of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary) and Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta and so many doctors of the church (St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, etc) rose to the occasion of addressing the truth and falsity of these widespread errors for the populace.
Let us guard carefully our own hearts and minds and those of our children and our peers that we might be worthy in all that we do to receive the unfading crown of glory in heaven by our pursuit of virtue in this life, above all the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Love; Verus Amor.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Ashes, ashes, ...
We all fall. To temptation, that is. Sometimes seriously, sometimes less seriously, we all fall. Ashes are a reminder of this reality, of our generative inheritance of Original Sin. It is somewhat harsh to speak of our "fallen nature" and disregard the capacity remaining in our nature to receive grace and the mercy of God. Nonetheless, our weakness that makes us susceptible to falling into sin makes the phrase "fallen nature" seem appropriate many times.
During the liturgical season of Lent, which begins tomorrow, we turn our thoughts and prayers to the Passion of Christ, recognizing the awesome gift that God gave us in sending His son to take on our flesh and walk among us. We call to mind the suffering He endured for our salvation, the stripes He bore for us that we might be healed (cf. Eucharistic Prayer III, Is 53:5), and we seek to participate in His passion, uniting our sufferings and inconveniences to those that He bore in His humanity for our sake. By the sacrifices that we make, we temper our bodily and material desires, detaching ourselves to those things that do not endure, and seeking to grow in the virtues that will remain beyond our bodily death. We must remember, however, not to be downcast or sullen in this time of penance, but rather to be joyful and consumed with hope and trust in God's mercy (cf. Mt 6:16).
Sr. Teresa sent me this Lenten reflection, which I hope you find fruitful in your spiritual journey:
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
During the liturgical season of Lent, which begins tomorrow, we turn our thoughts and prayers to the Passion of Christ, recognizing the awesome gift that God gave us in sending His son to take on our flesh and walk among us. We call to mind the suffering He endured for our salvation, the stripes He bore for us that we might be healed (cf. Eucharistic Prayer III, Is 53:5), and we seek to participate in His passion, uniting our sufferings and inconveniences to those that He bore in His humanity for our sake. By the sacrifices that we make, we temper our bodily and material desires, detaching ourselves to those things that do not endure, and seeking to grow in the virtues that will remain beyond our bodily death. We must remember, however, not to be downcast or sullen in this time of penance, but rather to be joyful and consumed with hope and trust in God's mercy (cf. Mt 6:16).
Sr. Teresa sent me this Lenten reflection, which I hope you find fruitful in your spiritual journey:
"So dear is the cross of Christ to us... whose power flows forth to bring us our salvation. We often act as that last centurion, as eager for belief as unbelief, that we pierce 'the one before whom we fall on our faces' (Benedict XVI), and blood and water gush forth from His side. The lifeblood of Christ overflows then upon our hearts, for his pericardia is pierced through. Through our unbelief came His fountain of mercy, which we may embrace and kiss, and repent to receive...May this Lenten season be filled with great hope as we take seriously Christ's invitation to us to repent, believe in the Gospel, and follow Him with ever greater zeal for His Kingdom, drawing others to the fountain of mercy that is His Sacred Heart. May the sorrowful and ever-glorious Virgin Mary accompany us on this road to Calvary, culminating in the resurrection of her Son and our salvation, wrought by her total surrender to the will of God.
"Be willing therefore to be pierced, to be run through, to have your spiritual pericardia torn asunder, that those who seek Christ may drink from the living stream flowing from your heart, eager for the salvation Christ has won for me and for you."
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Perfect
Perfect.
This little word has come up quite frequently lately. When I first heard its meaning questioned, in our Father Provincial's homily at Deacon Tom's final profession of vows, I quickly ran through what I knew of various languages, searching for its etymological derivation. I soon arrived at the Latin composition of "per", a preposition meaning "through" and "factus", the past participle of the verb whose infinitive is "facere," meaning to "make" or "do". There is actually the composite verb in Latin: "perficere," which incurs a conversion of the stem vowel in by virtue of the prefix, and a further stem vowel change upon conjugation to the past participle, which is "perfectus." So, perfect literally means "to be made through" or describes something that is "made through" or "complete" (which literally means "with fullness"). Can you tell I am enjoying studying Latin? I was always fascinated by language. Dictionary definitions also frequently describe perfection in the negative sense; rather than state (positively) that something is completely pure in its composition, the definition is that the subject lacks imperfections or defects (the keen reader will notice that "defect" is also composed of the same root word, facere, this time with the addition of the preposition "de", meaning "down" or "away from").
The Gospels tell of Jesus' exhortation to "be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." There is so much pressure in the modern world to strive for perfection, not to miss a beat, to be all that you can be. Recent turns of events have brought me close to the lives of several artists, whose career paths demand this acute attention to detail and brutal concentration on every element of preparation for their formal performances on their various stages, as well as their informal performances of living each day. In my own field of computer programming, every character (symbol) in the source code of an application or script counts - if even one is out of place, catastrophic effects result. The Evangelical Counsels of the church (poverty, chastity, and obedience) are taken as vows upon entering religious life formally (I have not made these formally, though, as seminarians, we do live them, according to the example of our vowed brothers and formal study). In the Oblate formula of profession, the term "perfect" is applied to the Counsels, and so it is with great importance that we consider the reality and consequences of perfection.
Philosophically, we understand the Gospel message of "perfect as God is perfect" to be an analogy. It does not mean that we should take on God's perfection in its entirety. It means that God is the standard of perfection which we take as our example. God's ultimate simplicity leaves no room for imperfection in him; by becoming more like him, we approach his simplicity and become free of imperfections. However, we cannot become God. While we may participate in His perfection, we cannot attain it in full because we are finite beings and He is infinite. Theologically, the instrument of this participation becomes clear. It is grace. Grace is that which God gives to us that imparts an intimate sharing in His divine life (all three persons of the Trinity). It is in this way that we can be perfect "as" (in the same manner as) God, because He has shared a part of Himself, including His perfection, with us by His grace. And we can receive His grace most properly through His sacraments, particularly the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion.
So we have seen how rampant a misunderstanding of "perfection" is present in our world, and how the divinely illumined interpretation speaks truth that can be proven and extended to the farthest reaches of our intellect. This sort of discussion is exemplary of my new-found love for philosophy (is that philo-philosophy? or do I simply have "philosophy" - the love of wisdom? alas, Greek is waiting in the wings...).
Amidst the lofty philosophical discourse, however, we are earthly beings, bound by turns to this world and our glimpses of the next. We experience imperfection in everything that we see, for nothing is absolutely simple as God, and yet there is a tremendous harmony in the natural world. All of the changes we perceive in the seasons, the average global temperature, the death of plants and animals and the birth of new ones, the ebb and flow of the tides, all evidence the fundamental imperfection of the created universe (but God did say it is good, not evil, and not indifferent) whilst upholding with great strength the dynamic perfection of it all - that is to say that, though everything in itself is lacking perfection, there is a marvelous cooperation such that the whole experiences less imperfection than all its parts; by God's design, it is all pleasing to Him.
I had a busy, emotional roller-coaster of a week, beginning last weekend with phone calls and letters made and received to and from family and friends that were each mixed bags of joy, sadness, consolation, and desolation. This alternation continued throughout the week with various appointments and meetings and obligations threatening to push me past the bounds of my patience and spirit of determination. I finished the weekend in the kitchen (making flan and frying onion rings with one of my brothers) and enraptured by the rich mezzo-soprano voice of one of the Sunday choir members whose Master's degree recital was this evening. Needless to say, it was quite the week, and by far my most intense week here in Boston with the Oblates of the Virgin Mary.
One usage of "perfect" in contemporary American English is the phrase, "that's perfect," signifying the appropriateness or "fitness" of a phrase or manner of action, such as the choice of colors for the bridesmaids' dresses at a wedding or the choice of music for a particular occasion, or a new title for an event or the name of an organization. I would like to apply this phrase, in like manner, to a series of notes I received from my sister, Sr. Teresa. Late last week, I received a package of three notes from her, wishing me a Happy Valentine's Day, a Happy Birthday, and a Happy Six-Month Anniversary of having entered religious life (yes, I entered on my half-birthday). Not only did my dear sister remember all of these occasions, her brief notes in each of them were so specific and personal and filled with images that were a significant part of my vocation story or that the two of us shared that all I can say is: "that was perfect!"
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
This little word has come up quite frequently lately. When I first heard its meaning questioned, in our Father Provincial's homily at Deacon Tom's final profession of vows, I quickly ran through what I knew of various languages, searching for its etymological derivation. I soon arrived at the Latin composition of "per", a preposition meaning "through" and "factus", the past participle of the verb whose infinitive is "facere," meaning to "make" or "do". There is actually the composite verb in Latin: "perficere," which incurs a conversion of the stem vowel in by virtue of the prefix, and a further stem vowel change upon conjugation to the past participle, which is "perfectus." So, perfect literally means "to be made through" or describes something that is "made through" or "complete" (which literally means "with fullness"). Can you tell I am enjoying studying Latin? I was always fascinated by language. Dictionary definitions also frequently describe perfection in the negative sense; rather than state (positively) that something is completely pure in its composition, the definition is that the subject lacks imperfections or defects (the keen reader will notice that "defect" is also composed of the same root word, facere, this time with the addition of the preposition "de", meaning "down" or "away from").
The Gospels tell of Jesus' exhortation to "be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." There is so much pressure in the modern world to strive for perfection, not to miss a beat, to be all that you can be. Recent turns of events have brought me close to the lives of several artists, whose career paths demand this acute attention to detail and brutal concentration on every element of preparation for their formal performances on their various stages, as well as their informal performances of living each day. In my own field of computer programming, every character (symbol) in the source code of an application or script counts - if even one is out of place, catastrophic effects result. The Evangelical Counsels of the church (poverty, chastity, and obedience) are taken as vows upon entering religious life formally (I have not made these formally, though, as seminarians, we do live them, according to the example of our vowed brothers and formal study). In the Oblate formula of profession, the term "perfect" is applied to the Counsels, and so it is with great importance that we consider the reality and consequences of perfection.
Philosophically, we understand the Gospel message of "perfect as God is perfect" to be an analogy. It does not mean that we should take on God's perfection in its entirety. It means that God is the standard of perfection which we take as our example. God's ultimate simplicity leaves no room for imperfection in him; by becoming more like him, we approach his simplicity and become free of imperfections. However, we cannot become God. While we may participate in His perfection, we cannot attain it in full because we are finite beings and He is infinite. Theologically, the instrument of this participation becomes clear. It is grace. Grace is that which God gives to us that imparts an intimate sharing in His divine life (all three persons of the Trinity). It is in this way that we can be perfect "as" (in the same manner as) God, because He has shared a part of Himself, including His perfection, with us by His grace. And we can receive His grace most properly through His sacraments, particularly the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion.
So we have seen how rampant a misunderstanding of "perfection" is present in our world, and how the divinely illumined interpretation speaks truth that can be proven and extended to the farthest reaches of our intellect. This sort of discussion is exemplary of my new-found love for philosophy (is that philo-philosophy? or do I simply have "philosophy" - the love of wisdom? alas, Greek is waiting in the wings...).
Amidst the lofty philosophical discourse, however, we are earthly beings, bound by turns to this world and our glimpses of the next. We experience imperfection in everything that we see, for nothing is absolutely simple as God, and yet there is a tremendous harmony in the natural world. All of the changes we perceive in the seasons, the average global temperature, the death of plants and animals and the birth of new ones, the ebb and flow of the tides, all evidence the fundamental imperfection of the created universe (but God did say it is good, not evil, and not indifferent) whilst upholding with great strength the dynamic perfection of it all - that is to say that, though everything in itself is lacking perfection, there is a marvelous cooperation such that the whole experiences less imperfection than all its parts; by God's design, it is all pleasing to Him.
I had a busy, emotional roller-coaster of a week, beginning last weekend with phone calls and letters made and received to and from family and friends that were each mixed bags of joy, sadness, consolation, and desolation. This alternation continued throughout the week with various appointments and meetings and obligations threatening to push me past the bounds of my patience and spirit of determination. I finished the weekend in the kitchen (making flan and frying onion rings with one of my brothers) and enraptured by the rich mezzo-soprano voice of one of the Sunday choir members whose Master's degree recital was this evening. Needless to say, it was quite the week, and by far my most intense week here in Boston with the Oblates of the Virgin Mary.
One usage of "perfect" in contemporary American English is the phrase, "that's perfect," signifying the appropriateness or "fitness" of a phrase or manner of action, such as the choice of colors for the bridesmaids' dresses at a wedding or the choice of music for a particular occasion, or a new title for an event or the name of an organization. I would like to apply this phrase, in like manner, to a series of notes I received from my sister, Sr. Teresa. Late last week, I received a package of three notes from her, wishing me a Happy Valentine's Day, a Happy Birthday, and a Happy Six-Month Anniversary of having entered religious life (yes, I entered on my half-birthday). Not only did my dear sister remember all of these occasions, her brief notes in each of them were so specific and personal and filled with images that were a significant part of my vocation story or that the two of us shared that all I can say is: "that was perfect!"
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
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