Jesus, Lord at thy birth

In the tradition of all lazy bloggers, but also with an eye on finding these again easily, here is the rather timely assortment of quotations that hit my inbox this morning...

Our Lord Jesus Christ, the word of God, of his boundless love, became what we are that he might make us what he himself is. --Irenaeus of Lyons (fl. 175-195)

From Jesus began a weaving together of the divine and human nature in order that human nature, through fellowship with what is more divine, might become divine. --Origen (185-254)

Christ was not degraded by receiving a body. Rather, he deified what he put on; and, more than that, he bestowed this gift upon the race of men. --Athanasius (296-373)

That he should remain God, though born as man, does not contradict our natural hope. For the birth of a higher nature into a lower state gives us confidence that a lower nature can be born into a higher condition. --Hilary of Poitiers (300-367)

Religion does not allow us to worship the mere man: and it is not true reverence to speak of Christ as God only, separate from his manhood. For if Christ is God but did not take manhood, we are aliens from salvation. Let Him then be worshiped as God, but let it be believed that He also became man. --Cyril of Jerusalem (315-386)

If the Lord did not assume that over which death reigned, death would not have been stopped from effecting his purpose, nor would the suffering of the God-bearing flesh have become our gain. --Basil of Caesarea (329-379)

What He was, He laid aside; what He was not, He assumed. He takes upon Himself the poverty of my flesh so that I may receive the riches of His divinity. --Gregory Nazianzen (330-390)

He who exists eternally did not submit to a bodily birth because He wanted to live, but in order to recall us from death to life. --Gregory of Nyssa (335-394)

When Christ took upon him man's flesh, it follows that He took the perfection and fullness of incarnation. And so he took flesh, to bring flesh to life. --Ambrose (340-397)

He descended to become identical with us.... He made the human soul His own, thus making it victorious over sin. -- Cyril of Alexandria (376-444)

Live and Die a Pirate King?

Just saw the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie the other day - yes, I have no life.

Now, with Owen going through an extended pirate phase, I'm pretty up on pirate lore and the like. It doesn't take a lot of profound thought to notice that pirates are into treasure. Lots of it, actually.

But not, it seems, in the Caribbean. There's even a joke about it in the last film, when a plot device ('the nine pieces of eight') turns out to refer to nine pieces of rubbish, rather than anything of value.

But the third film also tipped its hand toward the end, when Geoffrey Rush made reference to there being 'other ways to live forever'. I'm slow. It's obvious. All three films have had little or no concern for treasure; in fact, hardly any instances of anything vaguely resembling a fiscal transaction. But they're all about living for eternity: whether it's the cursed treasure from the first film that locks Barbosa and his crew in an undead phase, or Davy Jones' Flying Dutchman and its crew, or the ontological necessity that the Dutchman have a captain whose heart has been surgically removed for storage (though I had the impression that the reason for this changed between films 2 and 3), or finally, the 'fountain of youth' that Rush and Depp are vying for as the credits roll on the last film.

Ok, so everlasting fame and glory is part of the piracy mythos, but this is the first time I can think of that eschatology has come into it.

Interesting too, that it's transactional. To live forever, you have to pay a price: look pretty ugly by daylight; look fishy all the time; lock your heart in a box; spend a decade at sea ferrying the dead, with only one day ashore at the end of it; and so on. A fairly bleak view of eternal life, that's for sure. Indeed, the message of the films seems to be fairly hedonistic - live for the moment, as exemplified in Keira's fate.

Crime doesn't pay, after all!

The Turkey without the Turkey

So the British government is debating whether Christianity is being actively discriminated against. That's the horse just cresting that mountain in the distance, and if you're wondering where the stable door is, it's just where you left it a century ago, methinks.

But what a valiant defender. The turkey without the stuffing indeed. And a utilitarian argument about right-wing parties. Can't buy Christmas cards and advent calendars. Oh dear. Next they'll ban Christmas presents! I suppose at least there's always one of those quaint old stone churches you could visit...

And the secularist! Over-represented in public life, he says. Perhaps he should form a right-wing party of his own - it's easier to get the right Christmas cards!

Harrumph. Bah humbug.

Blowing Apathy Out of the Water

So it's been a while.

But I've been shaken out of my lassitude by finally succumbing to rave reviews and making the time to get started on The Doors of the Sea: Where was God in the Tsunami? by David Bentley Hart.

There's a theory that says a writer has to grab you on the first page if they want you to finish their book. When the fourth word of the book is 'verdant' you know you're reading a writer, but it was page six that hooked me good:

Considering the scope of the catastrophe, and of the agonies and sorrows it had visited on so many, we should probably have all remained silent for a while. The claim to discern some greater meaning - or, for that matter, meaninglessness - behind the contingencies of history and nature is both cruel and presumptuous at such times. Pious platitudes and words of comfort seem not only futile and banal, but almost blasphemous; metaphysical disputes come perilously close to mocking the dead. There are moments, simply said, when we probably ought not to speak. But, of course, we must speak.

I read it out to Jude when I got home, and her immediate response was to reserve the book to read herself. With three demanding kids, she's pretty choosy with her time. Now she wants The Beauty of the Infinite for Christmas!

Joy in the reading of theology; an aesthete would be pleased...