Blog 1 of 2 for today. The occasion seems fitting for separate posts.
It’s Veteran’s Day.
It’s raining again.
It seems to rain on this day a lot, pressing the gold and brown leaves to the ground, a reflection on war, sacrifice, inevitability.
The sky is crying.
Thanks to those who suffered, I almost forgot. I had built a castle of words, fanciful walls with bricks of figments (of imagination), and of no service to anyone but myself.
I guess that’s a side effect of the sacrifice of others. The shadows of the Rough Men standing ready to do violence on my behalf create a haven, and how am I using it? For my typewriter and snark?
Does this misuse of liberty rot the structure from the inside? Does the thoughtlessness of the city chip away at the walls until they’re just a shell?
Theology and Thanks
Ancient warriors keep falling off their chariots, armor ringing, sprawling in the dust, all life gone. Homer’s Iliad is just getting warmed up. I’ve got the audiobook, and have been leaving a trail of mythical Achaeans and Trojans along the byways of Virginia as I listen on my travels.
Their prayers have been catching my (decidedly ignorant) ear. They seem…transactional. (If any Greek scholars are reading this, I’d surely appreciate input or critique of this idea!)
“Oh mighty Zeus, if you vouchsafe me victory, I will give you x amount of cattle in sacrifice.”
“Athena, gray-eyed goddess, hear me! Whatshisface, son of strong SoandSo, has wronged me. See to it that I slay him in battle, and accept this fine weaving as an offering.”
They have a specific outcome in mind. Homer would have loved Amazon Prime.
Contrast that with later Christianity, where there’s a transcendent mystery that’s greater than Zeus’s mood.
Thy will be done, thy kingdom come, on Earth, as it is in Heaven.
The unspecified nature of this prayer is intriguing, and sophisticated. To me, it implies that maybe something or someone knows better, or, at the very least, that I don’t know everything.
What’s good for me and needed is left open in the request for daily bread. There’s no mention of rye, pumpernickel, or the sacking of a city.
Next Steps
It’s still raining. The leaves are still falling. I’m thinking of the men and women in uniform, and honoring them.
To the veterans: Thanks for your Service.
With these thoughts in mind - on responsibility of the Free, on the proper way to spend our liberty, on the contrasts of transactional prayer vs. self-imposed humility, the thing that keeps bubbling up is:
What’s our part?
We ask the Rough Men for all, and God for the rest.
When we say thanks for your service, and thanks for your grace, what reply would we aim for?
I used to think “you’re welcome.”
It probably is.
I’d just like to be a bit more worthy to hear it.
Off to work! (For starters, I promised you an eclipse report. That’s next.)
Josh