By John D. O'Brien, S.J.
This week, December 5th to be precise, is the anniversary of the death of one of history’s greatest musical geniuses, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. It seems that everybody loves Mozart; even his contemporaries recognized his greatness. Josef Haydn wrote that “posterity will not see such a talent again in 100 years”, and few would argue that this mantle may be extended for several hundred more. His compositions—more than 600 of them—have both depth and pathos, yet seem to dance with a lightness that returns us to joy. But what is more interesting is what a number of theologians have recognized in his work.
Showing posts with label Von Balthasar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Von Balthasar. Show all posts
Monday, 3 December 2012
Monday, 1 October 2012
The Wonderful World of Adrienne
By John D. O’Brien, S.J.
With the release of the long-awaited translation of Adrienne von Speyr’s magnificent and mystical commentary Mark: Meditations on the Gospel of Mark this fall, one feels the urge to write about the extraordinary woman known to her readers and followers simply as “Adrienne”. The great fruitfulness of her astonishing life and work is often overlooked because of the great modesty and even hiddenness of her charism. But even this aspect of her “gestalt”, or spiritual figure, is a part of her legacy, a contribution which has yet to penetrate deeply into the greater theological discourse of the Church.
With the release of the long-awaited translation of Adrienne von Speyr’s magnificent and mystical commentary Mark: Meditations on the Gospel of Mark this fall, one feels the urge to write about the extraordinary woman known to her readers and followers simply as “Adrienne”. The great fruitfulness of her astonishing life and work is often overlooked because of the great modesty and even hiddenness of her charism. But even this aspect of her “gestalt”, or spiritual figure, is a part of her legacy, a contribution which has yet to penetrate deeply into the greater theological discourse of the Church.
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Happiness On Trial – Part II
By Artur Suski, S.J.
In my last blog (“Happiness on Trial I”), I presented two ideas of the Christian vocation. You are all very familiar with the first: “I want to be happy!” The Christian strives above all for her happiness. St. Thomas – with “a little help from his friend”, that is, Aristotle – states that the Christian will only be happy if she lives according to her human nature, and to truly live according to human nature, she is to be a ‘reasonable’ person; in other words, to use her reason. St. Thomas, of course, goes further than Aristotle: not only are we to use our noggin properly, we are also to contemplate God’s truths. We, however, will only be complete and truly fulfilled when we see God face to face. But it is not that simple … it is only when we live virtuous lives that we will be properly disposed to ascend to this glorious beatific vision!
So, what is wrong with this model? I’ve pointed out in my last post, using Bl. Duns Scotus’ reasoning, that this is too “me-centred”. Check out what Hans Urs von Balthasar says about this: “Now, if according to St. Thomas, God is the indispensable One, that without which the hunger for happiness cannot attain its end, is not there in this concept the danger of turning God inadvertently into an end? … In this perspective, God can certainly be the end of the human being – a desired end perhaps sought out through asceticism and mystical passion, with a scrupulous observance of the Commandments – but at the end of the day, it will be my end, it promises my ultimate fulfillment.”
In my last blog (“Happiness on Trial I”), I presented two ideas of the Christian vocation. You are all very familiar with the first: “I want to be happy!” The Christian strives above all for her happiness. St. Thomas – with “a little help from his friend”, that is, Aristotle – states that the Christian will only be happy if she lives according to her human nature, and to truly live according to human nature, she is to be a ‘reasonable’ person; in other words, to use her reason. St. Thomas, of course, goes further than Aristotle: not only are we to use our noggin properly, we are also to contemplate God’s truths. We, however, will only be complete and truly fulfilled when we see God face to face. But it is not that simple … it is only when we live virtuous lives that we will be properly disposed to ascend to this glorious beatific vision!
So, what is wrong with this model? I’ve pointed out in my last post, using Bl. Duns Scotus’ reasoning, that this is too “me-centred”. Check out what Hans Urs von Balthasar says about this: “Now, if according to St. Thomas, God is the indispensable One, that without which the hunger for happiness cannot attain its end, is not there in this concept the danger of turning God inadvertently into an end? … In this perspective, God can certainly be the end of the human being – a desired end perhaps sought out through asceticism and mystical passion, with a scrupulous observance of the Commandments – but at the end of the day, it will be my end, it promises my ultimate fulfillment.”
Friday, 6 April 2012
Feeling Like Hell
By Edmund Lo, S.J.
One of our blog's faithful followers recently recommended Hemingway's “Today is Friday” in one of his comments, and I decided to check it out just to show that we really do appreciate our readers' comments. It is a short play concerning the conversation between three soldiers who were on guard during the crucifixion of Jesus. I find it quite an interesting read. All three soldiers bring intriguing perspectives in their own rights, but I will focus on the third soldier.
Throughout the entire play, he suffers from some kind of a stomach pain. He pleads with the other two to return to the barracks with him because he “feel(s) like hell tonight”, but stresses that it is neither because of the drinks nor the boys' night out; he simply feels like hell. We can make an educated guess that he is referring to how he feels after what transpired during the day, that is, the crucifixion.
One of our blog's faithful followers recently recommended Hemingway's “Today is Friday” in one of his comments, and I decided to check it out just to show that we really do appreciate our readers' comments. It is a short play concerning the conversation between three soldiers who were on guard during the crucifixion of Jesus. I find it quite an interesting read. All three soldiers bring intriguing perspectives in their own rights, but I will focus on the third soldier.
Throughout the entire play, he suffers from some kind of a stomach pain. He pleads with the other two to return to the barracks with him because he “feel(s) like hell tonight”, but stresses that it is neither because of the drinks nor the boys' night out; he simply feels like hell. We can make an educated guess that he is referring to how he feels after what transpired during the day, that is, the crucifixion.
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