tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81324814526072346332024-03-13T11:59:04.983-07:00Wayward DiscipleIn Which a Battered Knight of the Spirit wanders here and there on a Quest for the Holy Grail.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-63330475294413979172013-08-20T07:06:00.001-07:002013-08-20T07:09:33.231-07:00A Vision<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I walked from the moonlit beach thru the tunnel of faintly luminous stone. The sand was cool around my feet and everything sloped slightly down. Turned left thru the doorway into the little fenced garden. The moon was shining to the left above the apple trees. Raguel was there like an orange flame, and Tom was there too. When I saw him smiling, I started to cry for happiness. I held R and T's hands and told them I wanted to speak to the moon. (Just yesterday I had summoned Gabriel and beseeched him to initiate me into the mysteries of the Moon.)<br />
<br />
Down came Selene like a beautiful naked woman of pure silver light. I asked her what she wanted from me in return for her friendship and help, and she asked for one kiss, which I gave her, on the mouth. She gave me a wand of pure silver, like glass, and told me it was not earthly silver, but lunar silver, pure alchemical silver. It had, at each end, a long, narrow, fiercely glowing crystal, and it fit into a black leather sheath which I could wear at my left hip, slung on a strap from my right shoulder. <br />
<br />
I asked her to grant me her initiation and she told me to kneel down. I asked R and T if it was alright and they nodded yes. I knelt down in front of S with R and T standing on either side of me, and S put her hands on my head and flooded me with silver light. She said she was granting me knowledge of and the ability to draw upon the power of the microcosmic and macrocosmic tides, the power to walk in visions and dreams, the power to manifest and draw forth from the etheric substance, and the help and friendship of the faeries of the night. I saw them all around me and felt their love. Neffie was there, too, like a glorious moth queen, and presiding above everything I saw Gabriel all violet and blue. It was as if all this was happening inside him...as an emanation of his being.<br />
<br />
I sat with S for a long time in the glory of her silver light until she told me it was time to go. She returned to her heavens, and I back thru the tunnel to this world.</div>
Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-72269200969211987392013-08-19T17:46:00.002-07:002013-08-19T17:46:34.310-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/44ccdbba6f136d5cc4a348bc76c2ac53/tumblr_mrqmsoA0ih1rp2wx5o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/44ccdbba6f136d5cc4a348bc76c2ac53/tumblr_mrqmsoA0ih1rp2wx5o1_1280.jpg" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'goudy old style', 'minion pro', 'bell mt', serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 24px;">Katsushika Hokusai - Shoki Riding a Shishi Lion.</span></div>
Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-37794206784695595122013-08-18T18:39:00.000-07:002013-08-18T18:41:30.729-07:00Evening Salutation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hail unto Thee, O Thou One Eternal Light,<br />
in Whom we live and move and have our being forever,<br />
Whose living regent of the Sun now descends in the West;<br />
<br />
Hail unto Thee, O Lord of the Worlds,<br />
Infinite Love, Infinite Beauty, Infinite Joy;<br />
Hail unto Thee from the Abodes of the Evening.<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i></div>
Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-79647503747695221212011-08-14T13:55:00.000-07:002011-08-16T12:54:00.344-07:00Alan Moore on Austin Osman Spare<iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NXOt215GCWI?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Quite interesting, this. Alan Moore is pretty much responsible for revitalizing comics/graphic novels as an art form.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-77245529169471145952011-07-22T09:02:00.001-07:002011-07-22T09:10:16.826-07:00LIBERTY LEADING THE PEOPLE, by Eugene Delacroix<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a7/Eugène_Delacroix_-_La_liberté_guidant_le_peuple.jpg/757px-Eugène_Delacroix_-_La_liberté_guidant_le_peuple.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 307px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a7/Eugène_Delacroix_-_La_liberté_guidant_le_peuple.jpg/757px-Eugène_Delacroix_-_La_liberté_guidant_le_peuple.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>c. 1830, the Louvre, Paris. Rise up and cast off your chains!Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-91795632198942900332011-07-15T18:18:00.000-07:002011-07-15T18:22:46.466-07:00THE RETURN OF PERSEPHONE, by Lord Frederick Leighton<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_SUBGzd1BG60/SXKNJIFQoYI/AAAAAAABzJ0/ywbS44jnvxU/Leighton,%2BReturn%2Bof%2BPersephone%2B1891.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 535px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_SUBGzd1BG60/SXKNJIFQoYI/AAAAAAABzJ0/ywbS44jnvxU/Leighton,%2BReturn%2Bof%2BPersephone%2B1891.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>c. 1891Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-64079942425413711602011-07-15T12:28:00.000-07:002011-07-15T12:33:14.659-07:00THE NIGHT JOURNEY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://faculty.maxwell.syr.edu/gaddis/hst310/nov1/Nightjourney.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 650px;" src="http://faculty.maxwell.syr.edu/gaddis/hst310/nov1/Nightjourney.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>The Prophet Muhammad carried to Jerusalem by angels.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-35573013856905359962011-07-15T12:14:00.001-07:002011-07-15T12:35:40.945-07:00PARVATI<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00routesdata/0400_0499/pantheon/kamdevburnt/parvati3rdeye.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 450px;" src="http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00routesdata/0400_0499/pantheon/kamdevburnt/parvati3rdeye.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>A modern print.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-24747915728987140732011-07-15T05:42:00.000-07:002011-07-15T06:04:13.516-07:00LET'S NOT REMAIN ADORING, by Yunus EmreLet's not remain adoring,<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br />Let's not die longing, imploring,<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />Let's leave this city and this land:<br />Let's weep, shedding tears for the Friend,<br />With the cup of love's wine in hand;<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />From this world we'd better be gone;<br />Why be duped, it couldn't live on.<br />Let's not be split while we are one;<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />As I take the road, be my guide;<br />Let's set out for the Loved One's side.<br />Let's not look behind or ahead;<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />Before the news of death arrives,<br />Before my marked soul vainly strives,<br />Before Gabriel routs our lives,<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />Let's go to the truly sacred;<br />Let's ask for the news about God,<br />And taking Yunus on the road;<br />Come, let's go to the Friend, my soul.<br /><br />- Yunus Emre (1238-1321) translated from the Turkish by Talat S. HalmanWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-71250751104493356712011-07-11T16:23:00.001-07:002011-07-11T16:28:26.106-07:00THE BEAUTIFUL LADY, by Arthur Hughs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/hughes/1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 520px;" src="http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/hughes/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>An engraving to illustrate George MacDonald's book, <span style="font-style:italic;">At the Back of the North Wind.</span> Image scanned by George P. Landow at http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/hughes/1.htmlWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-57170150890052129112011-07-04T16:15:00.000-07:002011-07-04T16:21:13.802-07:00Edwin Muir - One Foot in EdenOne foot in Eden still, I stand<br />And look across the other land.<br />The world's great day is growing late,<br />Yet strange these fields that we have planted<br />So long with crops of love and hate.<br />Time's handiworks by time are haunted,<br />And nothing now can separate<br />The corn and tares compactly grown.<br />The armorial weed in stillness bound<br />About the stalk; these are our own.<br />Evil and good stand thick around<br />In fields of charity and sin<br />Where we shall lead our harvest in.<br /><br />Yet still from Eden springs the root<br />As clean as on the starting day.<br />Time takes the foliage and the fruit<br />And burns the archetypal leaf<br />To shapes of terror and of grief<br />Scattered along the winter way.<br />But famished field and blackened tree<br />Bear flowers in Eden never known.<br />Blossoms of grief and charity<br />Bloom in these darkened fields alone.<br />What had Eden ever to say<br />Of hope and faith and pity and love<br />Until was buried all its day<br />And memory found its treasure trove?<br />Strange blessings never in Paradise<br />Fall from these beclouded skies.<br /><br /><br />(One of my absolute favorite poems)Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-74097818686053576552011-07-03T16:18:00.000-07:002011-07-03T16:22:29.347-07:00SUMMER DAYReading in the heat of noon<br />I grow sleepy, put my head<br />On my arms and fall asleep.<br />I forget to close the window<br />And the warm air blows in<br />And covers my body with petals.<br /><br />- by Yuan Mei (1716-1797) translation by Kenneth RexrothWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-23981418960044550332011-07-03T13:43:00.000-07:002011-07-03T14:13:27.988-07:00SUMMER MOUNTAINS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sOw0ixAtWH0/TYlIevhhRyI/AAAAAAAAA6o/KVUC9bgH0yU/s1600/Summer-Mountains.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sOw0ixAtWH0/TYlIevhhRyI/AAAAAAAAA6o/KVUC9bgH0yU/s1600/Summer-Mountains.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-9277941572583269662011-07-03T05:05:00.000-07:002011-07-03T05:22:13.318-07:00Three Poems on Sleep<span style="font-weight:bold;">Sonnet XXXIX</span><br /><br />Come Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, <br />The baiting place of wit, the balm of woe, <br />The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, <br />The indifferent judge between the high and low; <br />With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease <br />Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw; <br />O make in me those civil wars to cease; <br />I will good tribute pay, if thou do so. <br />Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, <br />A chamber deaf to noise and blind of light, <br />A rosy garland and a weary head: <br />And if these things, as being thine by right, <br /> Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me, <br /> Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see.<br /><br />- Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586), from <span style="font-style:italic;">Astrophel and Stella</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">To Sleep</span><br /><br />O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight! <br /> Shutting with careful fingers and benign <br />Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light, <br /> Enshaded in forgetfulness divine; <br />O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, <br /> In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes, <br />Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws <br /> Around my bed its lulling charities; <br /> Then save me, or the passèd day will shine <br />Upon my pillow, breeding many woes; <br />Save me from curious conscience, that still lords <br /> Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; <br />Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, <br /> And seal the hushèd casket of my soul. <br /><br />- John Keats (1795-1821)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Lights Out</span><br /><br />I have come to the borders of sleep, <br />The unfathomable deep <br />Forest where all must lose <br />Their way, however straight, <br />Or winding, soon or late; <br />They cannot choose.<br /><br />Many a road and track <br />That, since the dawn's first crack, <br />Up to the forest brink, <br />Deceived the travellers, <br />Suddenly now blurs, <br />And in they sink.<br /><br />Here love ends, <br />Despair, ambition ends, <br />All pleasure and all trouble, <br />Although most sweet or bitter, <br />Here ends in sleep that is sweeter <br />Than tasks most noble.<br /><br />There is not any book <br />Or face of dearest look <br />That I would not turn from now <br />To go into the unknown <br />I must enter and leave alone <br />I know not how.<br /><br />The tall forest towers; <br />Its cloudy foliage lowers <br />Ahead, shelf above shelf; <br />Its silence I hear and obey <br />That I may lose my way <br />And myself.<br /><br />- Edward Thomas (1878-1917)Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-34391407417629818492011-07-02T16:49:00.000-07:002011-07-03T05:01:07.280-07:00from THE RETRACTIONS"That which is now called the Christian religion existed among the ancients, and never did not exist from the planting of the human race until Christ came in the flesh, at which time <span style="font-style:italic;">the true religion which already existed </span>began to be called Christianity."<br /><br />- St. Augustine of Hippo, c. 427 (italics mine)<br /><br />How sad that the broad, serene, analogical Christian Platonism of the Fathers has degenerated into the mean, ignorant, sentimental literalism and moralism of which most people now think when they hear the word "Christianity".Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-7666665435009636422011-07-02T04:31:00.000-07:002011-07-02T04:32:36.973-07:00JACOB'S LADDER, by William Blake<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ivgSIhLmFsc/TVFg4sKZX6I/AAAAAAAAKEE/1CfW3HlUQac/s1600/william-blake-jacob-s-ladder-79816.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 500px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ivgSIhLmFsc/TVFg4sKZX6I/AAAAAAAAKEE/1CfW3HlUQac/s1600/william-blake-jacob-s-ladder-79816.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-71390195292657353852011-06-30T19:32:00.000-07:002011-06-30T19:34:14.471-07:00O MARVEL, by Ibn ArabiO Marvel! a garden amidst the flames.<br />My heart has become capable of every form:<br />it is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks,<br />and a temple for idols and the pilgrim's Kaa'ba,<br />and the tables of the Torah and the book of the Quran.<br />I follow the religion of Love: whatever way Love's camels take,<br />that is my religion and my faith.<br /><br /> ibn al-`Arabi, Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, in The Mystics of Islam, translated by Reynold A NicholsonWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-41369617134501223292011-06-30T15:13:00.000-07:002011-06-30T15:16:10.554-07:00Sonnet from a Letter, by John KeatsO thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,<br />Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist<br />And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars,<br />To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.<br />O thou, whose only book has been the light<br />Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on<br />Night after night when Phoebus was away,<br />To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.<br />O fret not after knowledge- I have none,<br />And yet my song comes native with the warmth.<br />O fret not after knowledge- I have none,<br />And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens<br />At thought of idleness cannot be idle,<br />And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.<br /><br />c. 1818<br /><br />One of the best poems ever on the Via Negativa.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-74639297820685320702011-06-28T18:13:00.000-07:002011-06-28T18:17:57.347-07:00INCENDIES Trailer:<iframe width="390" height="210" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4RcEQ-NOqSc?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>This movie is one of the best (and most devastating) I've seen in a long time.Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-19581631369257544432011-06-28T03:13:00.000-07:002011-06-28T03:15:31.842-07:00THE NIGHT, by Henry VaughanTHROUGH that pure virgin shrine, <br /> That sacred veil drawn o'er Thy glorious noon, <br />That men might look and live, as glow-worms shine, <br /> And face the moon : <br /> Wise Nicodemus saw such light <br /> As made him know his God by night.<br /> Most blest believer he ! <br />Who in that land of darkness and blind eyes <br />Thy long-expected healing wings could see <br /> When Thou didst rise ! <br /> And, what can never more be done, <br /> Did at midnight speak with the Sun !<br /><br /> O who will tell me, where <br />He found Thee at that dead and silent hour ? <br />What hallow'd solitary ground did bear <br /> So rare a flower ; <br /> Within whose sacred leaves did lie <br /> The fulness of the Deity ?<br /><br /> No mercy-seat of gold, <br />No dead and dusty cherub, nor carv'd stone, <br />But His own living works did my Lord hold <br /> And lodge alone ; <br /> Where trees and herbs did watch and peep <br /> And wonder, while the Jews did sleep.<br /><br /> Dear Night ! this world's defeat ; <br />The stop to busy fools ; cares check and curb ; <br />The day of spirits ; my soul's calm retreat <br /> Which none disturb ! <br /> Christ's* progress, and His prayer-time ; <br /> The hours to which high Heaven doth chime.<br /><br /> God's silent, searching flight ; <br />When my Lord's head is fill'd with dew, and all <br />His locks are wet with the clear drops of night ; <br /> His still, soft call ; <br /> His knocking-time ; the soul's dumb watch, <br /> When spirits their fair kindred catch.<br /><br /> Were all my loud, evil days <br />Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent, <br />Whose peace but by some angel's wing or voice <br /> Is seldom rent ; <br /> Then I in Heaven all the long year <br /> Would keep, and never wander here.<br /><br /> But living where the sun <br />Doth all things wake, and where all mix and tire <br /> Themselves and others, I consent and run <br /> To ev'ry mire ; <br /> And by this world's ill-guiding light, <br /> Err more than I can do by night.<br /><br /> There is in God—some say— <br />A deep, but dazzling darkness ; as men here <br />Say it is late and dusky, because they <br /> See not all clear. <br /> O for that Night ! where I in Him <br /> Might live invisible and dim !Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-43696686519385883032011-06-27T11:53:00.000-07:002011-06-27T11:55:48.547-07:00SCHEHERAZADE, by Edmund Dulac<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/753/edarabian1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 850px;" src="http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/753/edarabian1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-44452242825090183422011-06-25T16:00:00.000-07:002011-06-25T16:04:58.544-07:00Over the Rhine - Days Like This<iframe width="390" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4s_3L71dIUY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Love, love, love Over the Rhine!!!!!!Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-6186913978868718012011-06-25T13:46:00.000-07:002011-06-25T13:53:52.349-07:00VIRGIN OF THE ROCKS, by Leonardo da Vinci<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://atremehr.com/images/docs/files/000000/nf00000103-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 600px;" src="http://atremehr.com/images/docs/files/000000/nf00000103-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>c. 1506, National Gallery, LondonWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-10213080727129513842011-06-25T10:03:00.001-07:002011-06-25T10:26:17.977-07:00MARY MAGDALENE, by Frederick Sandys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/2c/Mariya_Magdalena.jpg/497px-Mariya_Magdalena.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 390px; height: 475px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/2c/Mariya_Magdalena.jpg/497px-Mariya_Magdalena.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>c. 1860Wayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8132481452607234633.post-15465525093019016582011-06-25T05:38:00.000-07:002011-06-25T05:51:37.985-07:00The Human BeingThe human being is an animal who has received the vocation to become God.<br /><br />-St Basil the Great.<br /><br />The great Architect of the universe conceived and produced a being endowed with both natures, the visible and the invisible: God created the human being, bringing its body forth from the pre-existing matter which he animated by his own Spirit...Thus in some way a new universe was born, small and great at one and the same time. God set this "hybrid" worshipper on earth to contemplate the visible world, and to be initiated into the invisible; to reign over earth's creatures, and to obey orders from on high. He created a being at once earthly and heavenly, insecure and immortal, visible and invisible, halfway between greatness and nothingness, flesh and spirit at the same time...an animal en route to another native land, and, most mysterious of all, made to resemble God by simple submission to the divine will.<br /><br />- St Gregory NazianzenWayward Disciplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14889798820509505977noreply@blogger.com0