It's Bloomsday For Book Nerds

Today is far from an ordinary day in the world of western literature. It isn't that a number of significant events occurred or that any event occurred that day. Instead, June 16 (1904) is the setting for a several hundred page descriptive stream of happenings in the life of the fictional character, Leopold Bloom. The work is Ulysses, published in book form in 1922. The author is James Joyce. The day is Bloomsday.

Ulysses is a shape shifting piece of art written out of the ashes of the Belle Epoque, a period of peace and prosperity in Europe from around 1875 to 1917, and the alienation of an increasingly existential world. If you accept that meanings are in people this book assuredly means something different to every person who accepted the challenge to read it. You can't get more existential than that. The Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, said this about it:

What is so staggering about Ulysses is the fact that behind a thousand veils nothing lies hidden; that it turns neither toward the mind nor toward the world, but, as cold as the moon looking on from cosmic space, allows the drama of growth, being, and decay to pursue its course.

First edition copy described as "unread except for the racy bits."

To say the least, Ulysses is an adventure. For some it may be merely pornographic or a huge word puzzle or a unique work of art in its truest form. However you chose to view the novel keep in mind that people are celebrating this work and its author across the world today on what has become known as Bloomsday. And even those who know nothing about Bloomsday, never read the book or know little about the author have likely encountered bits and pieces of Joyce's skill in school and through popular culture. This memorable paragraph ends the book:

I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

I came to appreciate that quote so much for its realism and balance between the sensuous and sensual that I used it for almost twenty years in a descriptive writing course. Other quotes could have been useful but their playfulness simply made them interesting, maybe even enjoyable if you had a reading guide - an essential - at hand:

Meditations of evolution increasingly vaster: of the moon invisible in incipient lunation, approaching perigee: of the infinite lattiginous scintillating uncondensed milky way, discernible by daylight by an observer placed at the lower end of a cylindrical vertical shaft 5000 ft deep sunk from the surface towards the centre of the earth: of Sirius (alpha in Canis Maior) 10 lightyears (57,000,000,000,000 miles) distant and in volume 900 times the dimension of our planet: of Arcturus: of the precession of equinoxes: of Orion with belt and sextuple sun theta and nebula in which 100 of our solar systems could be contained: of moribund and of nascent new stars such as Nova in 1901: of our system plunging towards the constellation of Hercules: of the parallax or parallactic drift of socalled fixed stars, in reality evermoving wanderers from immeasurably remote eons to infinitely remote futures in comparison with which the years, threescore and ten, of allotted human life formed a parenthesis of infinitesimal brevity.

So there is word play at its best with lots of traditional arts and sciences, a dash of Dadaism, even a precursor or two of pataphysics. Rest assured there's more there than the racy bits.


If you want to learn more about the day, the book, and the author, visit these sites: Bloomsday, Ulysses, and James Joyce.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

theguardian.com, June 4, 2009, photo by Martin Argles


Text:
quotations, goodreads.com
Malcolm Cowley, Exile's Return: A Literary Odyssey of the 1920s, revised, Viking Press, 1964

May Day 2025: On The Coming Of Summer

To be fair we could be talking about workers of the world, the joys of collectivist thought, and even the "fruits" of Communism on this day. I would rather speak of a more ancient and far happier theme, the arrival of the season of warmth and growth.

May 1, 2023, in Glastonbury, United Kingdom

The Gaelic festival day, Beltane ("be-EL-ten-a" in Irish, "BEL-tayn" in English)) occurs on May 1 and is a cross-quarter day marking the beginning of summer in their ancient calendar. It is one of two "turning" days of the year and exactly six months apart from the other, Samhain (saa-wn), marking the beginning of the dead season of winter. In the United Kingdom and other places with Gaelic heritage Beltane celebrations began last night with the lighting of bonfires, dancing and feasting long into the night.

 

The fun continues with the welcoming of the sun, the selection of the May Queen or earth goddess representing fertility, and the May King or Green Man - the latter first appeared in the 12th century -  representing vegetation and growth. The partying includes a Maypole dance - once an ancient fertility rite - and the decoration of houses, farms, and livestock; and more feasting.

Here in the United States there isn't much associated with the day unless there's an opportunity to sell something under the May Day Sale label. Even schools show little interest in May Day but it was a day-long festival at my elementary school in the 1950's. Actually the day was a big event for the whole community. It was so important that I recall the teachers having us outside days in advance to practice the May Pole dance until the lattice pattern on the pole was perfect. I wonder how enthusiastic they would have been had they known we were practicing a fertility rite. Aside from a few New Agers all religious associations with the activities have been left to an ancient past. These days it's simply good fun. Or at least a happy memory.

Maypole Dance, Bascom Hill, Wisconsin, May 1, around 1917

May you have a most festive celebration of the arrival of a time of warmth and new life





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Photograph: University of Wisconsin Digital Collections

St. Patrick's Day 2025

 

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Today's post could focus on the contemporary experience of St. Patrick's Day in the U.S. - the wearing of the green, the parades, the parties, the drinking songs. Instead I want to look back at the true meaning of the day, the religious aspects, that so often get lost in the worldly celebration. Of course, there's nothing wrong with celebration - we do live in the world - as long as it's done in moderation while we keep the origins of the day in mind. Enjoy.

If you do nothing else with this post, at least listen to the remarkably powerful hymn.

The Reverend Paul Prange, Chair of the Board for Ministerial Education, Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod, has this to say about St. Patrick:

When it comes to St. Patrick, truth may be stranger than fiction.

Born in Scotland, he grew up as a Christian but was not too serious about his faith. His life changed suddenly at age sixteen when he was kidnapped by Irish pirates. For six years he labored as a slave, tending pigs and sheep. He began to value the Christian faith in which he had been raised. When he escaped from slavery, he made his way to the coast, got a job on a ship, and returned to his family in Scotland. 

Back in Scotland, he could not get Ireland out of his mind. The love of Christ was compelling him to share with his former captors the promises of God that had come to mean so much to him while he lived among them. After studying the Bible for nearly 20 years, he went back to Ireland a free man, and he never left. 

Patrick baptized thousands of people. He helped to organize congregations all over Ireland, and worked hard to train and ordain men to serve as ministers of the gospel. Among his converts were wealthy women who became Christians in the face of family opposition. He also dealt with the royal family of the time, instructing them in the truths of the faith. 

It is very unlikely that he drove all of the snakes out of Ireland. He probably did not wear green all of the time. But the historical truths of his life are inspiring, and cause us to give thanks to God for faithful missionaries.

Today's music is St. Patrick's Breastplate, a 19th century hymn based on words attributed to him.

St. Patrick's Breastplate

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,

by power of faith, Christ's Incarnation;

His baptism in the Jordan river;

His death on cross for my salvation;

His bursting from the spicèd tomb;

His riding up the heavenly way;

His coming at the day of doom:

I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today

the power of God to hold and lead,

His eye to watch, his might to stay,

His ear to hearken, to my need;

the wisdom of my God to teach,

his hand to guide, his shield to ward;

the word of God to give me speech,

His heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be with me,

Christ within me,

Christ behind me,

Christ before me,

Christ beside me,

Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort

and restore me.

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ in quiet,

Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of

all that love me,

Christ in mouth of

friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

Of whom all nature hath creation,

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:

praise to the Lord of my salvation,

salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Our literary piece comes from the opening paragraphs of the Confession, one of two extant documents written by St. Patrick. The translation from the Latin by Ludwig Bieler.

I am Patrick, a sinner, most unlearned, the least of all the faithful, and utterly despised by many. My father was Calpornius, a deacon, son of Potitus, a priest, of the village Bannavem Taburniæ; he had a country seat nearby, and there I was taken captive. 

I was then about sixteen years of age. I did not know the true God. I was taken into captivity to Ireland with many thousands of people---and deservedly so, because we turned away from God, and did not keep His commandments, and did not obey our priests, who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought over us the wrath of his anger and scattered us among many nations, even unto the utmost part of the earth, where now my littleness is placed among strangers. 

And there the Lord opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my abjection, and mercy on my youth and ignorance, and watched over me before I knew Him, and before I was able to distinguish between good and evil, and guarded me, and comforted me as would a father his son.Hence I cannot be silent---nor, indeed, is it expedient---about the great benefits and the great grace which the lord has deigned to bestow upon me in the land of my captivity; for this we can give to God in return after having been chastened by Him, to exalt and praise His wonders before every nation that is anywhere under the heaven. 

Because there is no other God, nor ever was, nor will be, than God the Father unbegotten, without beginning, from whom is all beginning, the Lord of the universe, as we have been taught; and His son Jesus Christ, whom we declare to have always been with the Father, spiritually and ineffably begotten by the Father before the beginning of the world, before all beginning; and by Him are made all things visible and invisible. He was made man, and, having defeated death, was received into heaven by the Father; and He hath given Him all power over all names in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue shall confess to Him that Jesus Christ is Lord and God, in whom we believe, and whose advent we expect soon to be, judge of the living and of the dead, who will render to every man according to his deeds; and He has poured forth upon us abundantly the Holy Spirit, the gift and pledge of immortality, who makes those who believe and obey sons of God and joint heirs with Christ; and Him do we confess and adore, one God in the Trinity of the Holy Name. 

For He Himself has said through the Prophet: Call upon me in the day of thy trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. And again He says: It is honourable to reveal and confess the works of God. 

Although I am imperfect in many things, I nevertheless wish that my brethren and kinsmen should know what sort of person I am, so that they may understand my heart's desire. 

And so I should dread exceedingly, with fear and trembling, this sentence on that day when no one will be able to escape or hide, but we all, without exception, shall have to give an account even of our smallest sins before the judgement of the Lord Christ.

 

Here is a link to the remaining eight pages describing his journey from slave to missionary.

I hope readers enjoyed thia week's posts about Irish culture, especially today's piece on St. Patrick and his place in the history of Chritianity. May you and yours have a safe and happy St. Patrick's Day.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
oca.org

Text:

Prange comment, welslutherans site, Facebook
Confessions, catholicplanet.com

St. Patrick's Day Prelude II 2025

 

St. Patrick's Day is but one day away. To get everyone in the spirit for the big day  we take a light-hearted look at the country and bits and pieces of its culture.

In the late 19th century the Arbuckle Bros. Coffee Company of New York began issuing themed advertising cards in series to increase its business. I have over 300 of these cards that were collected by my ancestors over two generations. The company issued three cards with Irish themes and I'm pleased to post two of them in our St. Patrick's Day primer. The first one appeared in the National Geographical Series and did not have descriptive information on the reverse. The description below was issued with the card in the company's special promotional booklet entitled, Arbuckles' Illustrated Atlas of Fifty Principal Nations of the World [1889].

IRELAND, known to the Greeks by the name Ierne (Erin) and to the Romans by the name Hibernia, is the second largest of the British Isles, and is washed on the N. W. and S. sides by the Atlantic Ocean and separated from Great Britain by the N. Channel, the Irish Sea and St. George's Channel. Dublin, the capital, first mentioned by Ptolemy, is one of the finest cities in the Empire, and is situated at the head of Dublin Bay. A Lord Lieutenant is head of the executive government, and is assisted by a Privy Council and Chief Secretary. 

Area, 32,531 square miles; population 1881, 5,174,836. Between 1853 and 1889 2,289,735 Irish emigrants landed in the United States. 

The great central portion of Ireland is flat, and not less than 2,830,000 acres is bog, but much of the soil is of singular fertility. The climate is milder and moister than that of Great Britain, and clothes the plains and valleys with the richest pasture, procuring for Ireland the name of the Emerald Isle. The coast inlets, called Loughs, are many and of great extent. The lakes of Killarney, three in number, in Kerry, and under shadow of the loftiest mountains in the island, are widely famed for their romantic beauty. The chief crops are wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, beans, peas. The live stock comprises horses, cattle, sheep and pigs. The most important manufacture is that of linen. Other industries are muslin sewing, lace making and woolen and worsted goods. There is a considerable amount of whisky distilling and porter brewing. The Shamrock (trefoil) is the national badge of Ireland.

Our second card comes from the Sports and Pastimes of all Nations Series. I think you'll enjoy the description from the reverse.

THE Emerald Isle from time immemorial has been the home of merry sport and gladsome enjoyment. Its people are hotheaded and quick to resent offence, generous to a fault, and forgiving to a degree, superstitious, devout and easy going. 

The celebration of Hallowe'en, the 31st of October is a festivity that is looked forward to with keenest anticipation by all the young people of Ireland. Numerous are the games played. For instance apples are placed in a tub of water and each in turn tries to pick one out with his teeth. If successful it predicted luck in matters of love. 

Another Hallowe'en game is Apple and Candle. On a stick 18 inches long, an apple is fastened at one end, and a lighted candle at the other. The stick is suspended from the ceiling by a string and then the string is swung backward and forward, while the players one by one try to catch the apple in their teeth. 

Who shall describe the Irish jig. Into its engaging movements and attractive energy is infused much of the national spirit. 

A peculiar sport of the Irish, and one very characteristic of the humor of the race is that of the "Greased Pig." Such an animal is anointed so that his hide is extremely slippery. He is then started to run amuck through the ranks of those participating in the play. These attempt to catch and hold his pigship with their hands--a difficult task. He who succeeds, walks off with the prize the squealing cause of the tumult and hilarity. 

The Irish are famous boxers. Boxing is the art of using those natural weapons--the hands, in assault and defence. To be a good boxer one must be quick of eye, self-possessed, ready of device, agile and good-tempered.

There is no shortage of traditional Irish music and we're happy to enjoy it with this post of The Dubliners's definitive version of the 17th century song, Whiskey In The Jar:

As I was a goin' over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol and I then produced my rapier
Saying "Stand and deliver" for he were a bold deceiver

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

I went unto my chamber, all for to take a slumber
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder
But Jenny drew me charges and she filled them up with water
Then sent for captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

'Twas early in the morning, just before I rose to travel
Up comes a band of footmen and likewise captain Farrell
I first produced me pistol for she'd stolen away me rapier
But I couldn't shoot the water, so a prisoner I was taken

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

Now there's some take delight in the carriages a rollin'
And others take delight in the hurling and the bowling
But I take delight in the juice of the barley
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

If anyone can aid me 'tis my brother in the army
If I can find his station in Cork or in Killarney
And if he'll go with me, we'll go rovin' in Kilkenney
And I'm sure he'll treat me better than me own me sportin' Jenny

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da
Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Ireland, Arbuckle Bros. Coffee Company advertising card series, about 1890, from family archives

St. Patrick's Day Prelude 2025

With two days left before the big day when everyone is just a little bit Irish I thought it would be fitting to visit the family's postcard archives and share pieces of Irish culture with readers. Hopre you enjoy the post. Be sure to check out tomorrow;s edition as well.

About the Celtic harp

About the shamrock

About Erin go Bragh

Here is the Song of Ireland written by the English singer-songwriter, Phil Colclough, and his wife, June. The performance is by The Dubliners featuring one of its founding members, Luke Kelly. Although his career was cut short by an early death in 1984, he is credited with saving much of Ireland's traditional music. His Wikipedia biography notes the "[he] remains an Irish icon and his music is widely regarded as one of Ireland's cultural treasures."

Walking all the day, near tall towers where falcons build their nests

Silver winged they fly, they know the call of freedom in their breasts

Soar Black Head against the sky, between the rocks that run down to the sea.

Living on your western shore, saw summer sunsets, asked for more I stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland


Talking all the day with true friends, who try to make you stay

Telling jokes and news, singing songs to pass the night away.

Watched the Galway salmon run like silver dancing darting in the sun.

Living on your western shore, saw summer sunsets, asked for more I stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland


Drinking all the day in old pubs, where fiddlers love to play

Someone touched the bow, he played a reel, it seemed so fine and gay.

Stood on Dingle beach and cast - in wild foam we found Atlantic Bass.

Living on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for more I stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland


Dreaming in the night, I saw a land where no man had to fight

Waking in your dawn, I saw you crying in the morning light.

Lying where the Falcons fly, they twist and turn all in you e'er blue sky.

Living on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and I sang a song for Ireland

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Postcards from the author's family archives

Celebrating Warmth And New Life

To be fair we could be talking about workers of the world, the joys of collectivist thought, and even the "fruits" of Communism on this day. I would rather speak of a more ancient and far happier theme.

May 1, 2023, in Glastonbury, United Kingdom

The Gaelic festival day, Beltane ("be-EL-ten-a" in Irish, "BEL-tayn" in English)) occurs on May 1 and is a cross-quarter day marking the beginning of summer in their ancient calendar. It is one of two "turning" days of the year and exactly six months apart from the other, Samhain (saa-wn), marking the beginning of the dead season of winter. In the United Kingdom and other places with Gaelic heritage Beltane celebrations began last night with the lighting of bonfires, dancing and feasting long into the night.

 

The fun continues with the welcoming of the sun, the selection of the May Queen or earth goddess representing fertility, and the May King or Green Man - the latter first appeared in the 12th century -  representing vegetation and growth. The partying includes a Maypole dance - once an ancient fertility rite - and the decoration of houses, farms, and livestock; and more feasting.

Here in the United States there isn't much associated with the day unless there's an opportunity to sell something under the May Day Sale label. Even schools show little interest in May Day but it was a day-long festival at my elementary school in the 1950's. Actually the day was a big event for the whole community. It was so important that I recall the teachers having us outside days in advance to practice the May Pole dance until the lattice pattern on the pole was perfect. I wonder how enthusiastic they would have been had they known we were practicing a fertility rite. Aside from a few New Agers all religious associations with the activities have been left to an ancient past. These days it's simply good fun. Or at least a happy memory.




Maypole Dance, Bascom Hill, Wisconsin, May 1 ca. 1917





May you have a most festive celebration of the arrival of a time of warmth and new life





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Photograph: University of Wisconsin Digital Collections

St. Patrick's Day 2024

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Today's post could focus on the contemporary experience of St. Patrick's Day in the U.S. - the wearing of the green, the parades, the parties, the drinking songs. Instead I want to look back at the true meaning of the day, the religious aspects, that so often get lost in the worldly celebration. Of course, there's nothing wrong with celebration - we do live in the world - as long as it's done in moderation while we keep the origins of the day in mind. Enjoy.

If you do nothing else with this post, at least listen to the remarkably powerful hymn presented later in this post.

The Reverend Paul Prange, Chair of the Board for Ministerial Education, Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod, has this to say about St. Patrick:

When it comes to St. Patrick, truth may be stranger than fiction.

Born in Scotland, he grew up as a Christian but was not too serious about his faith. His life changed suddenly at age sixteen when he was kidnapped by Irish pirates. For six years he labored as a slave, tending pigs and sheep. He began to value the Christian faith in which he had been raised. When he escaped from slavery, he made his way to the coast, got a job on a ship, and returned to his family in Scotland.

Back in Scotland, he could not get Ireland out of his mind. The love of Christ was compelling him to share with his former captors the promises of God that had come to mean so much to him while he lived among them. After studying the Bible for nearly 20 years, he went back to Ireland a free man, and he never left.

Patrick baptized thousands of people. He helped to organize congregations all over Ireland, and worked hard to train and ordain men to serve as ministers of the gospel. Among his converts were wealthy women who became Christians in the face of family opposition. He also dealt with the royal family of the time, instructing them in the truths of the faith.

It is very unlikely that he drove all of the snakes out of Ireland. He probably did not wear green all of the time. But the historical truths of his life are inspiring, and cause us to give thanks to God for faithful missionaries.

Today's music is St. Patrick's Breastplate, a 19th century hymn based on words attributed to him.

St. Patrick's Breastplate

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,

by power of faith, Christ's Incarnation;

His baptism in the Jordan river;

His death on cross for my salvation;

His bursting from the spicèd tomb;

His riding up the heavenly way;

His coming at the day of doom:

I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today

the power of God to hold and lead,

His eye to watch, his might to stay,

His ear to hearken, to my need;

the wisdom of my God to teach,

his hand to guide, his shield to ward;

the word of God to give me speech,

His heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be with me,

Christ within me,

Christ behind me,

Christ before me,

Christ beside me,

Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort

and restore me.

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ in quiet,

Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of

all that love me,

Christ in mouth of

friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

Of whom all nature hath creation,

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:

praise to the Lord of my salvation,

salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Our literary piece comes from the opening paragraphs of the Confession, one of two extant documents written by St. Patrick. The translation from the Latin by Ludwig Bieler.

I am Patrick, a sinner, most unlearned, the least of all the faithful, and utterly despised by many. My father was Calpornius, a deacon, son of Potitus, a priest, of the village Bannavem Taburniæ; he had a country seat nearby, and there I was taken captive.

I was then about sixteen years of age. I did not know the true God. I was taken into captivity to Ireland with many thousands of people---and deservedly so, because we turned away from God, and did not keep His commandments, and did not obey our priests, who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought over us the wrath of his anger and scattered us among many nations, even unto the utmost part of the earth, where now my littleness is placed among strangers.

And there the Lord opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my abjection, and mercy on my youth and ignorance, and watched over me before I knew Him, and before I was able to distinguish between good and evil, and guarded me, and comforted me as would a father his son.Hence I cannot be silent---nor, indeed, is it expedient---about the great benefits and the great grace which the lord has deigned to bestow upon me in the land of my captivity; for this we can give to God in return after having been chastened by Him, to exalt and praise His wonders before every nation that is anywhere under the heaven.

Because there is no other God, nor ever was, nor will be, than God the Father unbegotten, without beginning, from whom is all beginning, the Lord of the universe, as we have been taught; and His son Jesus Christ, whom we declare to have always been with the Father, spiritually and ineffably begotten by the Father before the beginning of the world, before all beginning; and by Him are made all things visible and invisible. He was made man, and, having defeated death, was received into heaven by the Father; and He hath given Him all power over all names in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue shall confess to Him that Jesus Christ is Lord and God, in whom we believe, and whose advent we expect soon to be, judge of the living and of the dead, who will render to every man according to his deeds; and He has poured forth upon us abundantly the Holy Spirit, the gift and pledge of immortality, who makes those who believe and obey sons of God and joint heirs with Christ; and Him do we confess and adore, one God in the Trinity of the Holy Name.

For He Himself has said through the Prophet: Call upon me in the day of thy trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. And again He says: It is honourable to reveal and confess the works of God.

Although I am imperfect in many things, I nevertheless wish that my brethren and kinsmen should know what sort of person I am, so that they may understand my heart's desire.

And so I should dread exceedingly, with fear and trembling, this sentence on that day when no one will be able to escape or hide, but we all, without exception, shall have to give an account even of our smallest sins before the judgement of the Lord Christ.

Here is a link to the remaining eight pages describing his journey from slave to missionary.

I hope readers enjoyed thia week's post on St. Patrick and his place in the history of Chritianity. May you and yours have a safe and happy St. Patrick's Day.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
oca.org

Text:
Prange comment, welslutherans site, Facebook
Confessions, catholicplanet.com

A Day For Bloomers: Celebrating James Joyce and Ulysses

Today is far from an ordinary day in the world of western literature. It isn't that a number of significant events occurred or that any event occurred that day. Instead, June 16 (1904) is the setting for a several hundred page descriptive stream of happenings in the life of the fictional character, Leopold Bloom. The work is Ulysses, published in book form in 1922. The author is James Joyce.

Ulysses is a shape shifting piece of art written out of the ashes of the Belle Epoque, a period of peace and prosperity in Europe from around 1875 to 1917, and the alienation of an increasingly existential world. If you accept that meanings are in people this book assuredly means something different to every person who accepted the challenge to read it. You can't get more existential than that. The Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, said this about it:

What is so staggering about Ulysses is the fact that behind a thousand veils nothing lies hidden; that it turns neither toward the mind nor toward the world, but, as cold as the moon looking on from cosmic space, allows the drama of growth, being, and decay to pursue its course.

First edition copy described as "unread except for the racy bits."

To say the least, Ulysses is an adventure. For some it may be merely pornographic or a huge word puzzle or a unique work of art in its truest form. However you chose to view the novel keep in mind that people are celebrating this work and its author across the world today on what has become known as Bloomsday. And even those who know nothing about Bloomsday, never read the book or know little about the author have likely encountered bits and pieces of Joyce's skill in school and through popular culture. This memorable paragraph ends the book:

I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

I came to appreciate that quote so much for its realism and balance between the sensuous and sensual that I used it for almost twenty years in a descriptive writing course. Other quotes could have been useful but their playfulness simply made them interesting, maybe even enjoyable if you had a reading guide - an essential - at hand:

Meditations of evolution increasingly vaster: of the moon invisible in incipient lunation, approaching perigee: of the infinite lattiginous scintillating uncondensed milky way, discernible by daylight by an observer placed at the lower end of a cylindrical vertical shaft 5000 ft deep sunk from the surface towards the centre of the earth: of Sirius (alpha in Canis Maior) 10 lightyears (57,000,000,000,000 miles) distant and in volume 900 times the dimension of our planet: of Arcturus: of the precession of equinoxes: of Orion with belt and sextuple sun theta and nebula in which 100 of our solar systems could be contained: of moribund and of nascent new stars such as Nova in 1901: of our system plunging towards the constellation of Hercules: of the parallax or parallactic drift of socalled fixed stars, in reality evermoving wanderers from immeasurably remote eons to infinitely remote futures in comparison with which the years, threescore and ten, of allotted human life formed a parenthesis of infinitesimal brevity.

So there is word play at its best with lots of traditional arts and sciences, a dash of Dadaism, even a precursor or two of pataphysics. Rest assured there's more there than the racy bits.


If you want to learn more about the day, the book, and the author, visit these sites: Bloomsday, Ulysses, and James Joyce.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

theguardian.com, June 4, 2009, photo by Martin Argles


Text:
quotations, goodreads.com
Malcolm Cowley, Exile's Return: A Literary Odyssey of the 1920s, revised, Viking Press, 1964

A Welcome To The Warmth Of The Sun And The Greening Of Spring

To be fair we could be talking about workers of the world, the joys of collectivist thought, and even the "fruits" of Communism on this day. I would rather speak of a more ancient and far happier theme.

Earlier today in Glastonbury, United Kingdom

The Gaelic festival day, Beltane ("be-EL-ten-a" in Irish, "BEL-tayn" in English)) occurs on May 1 and is a cross-quarter day marking the beginning of summer in the ancient calendar. It is one of two "turning" days of the year and exactly six months apart from the other, Samhain (saa-wn), marking the beginning of the dead season of winter. In the United Kingdom and other places with Gaelic heritage Beltane celebrations began last night with the lighting of bonfires, dancing and feasting long into the night.

The fun continues with the welcoming of the sun, the selection of the May Queen or earth goddess representing fertility, and the May King or Green Man representing vegetation and growth. The partying includes a Maypole dance - once an ancient fertility rite - and the decoration of houses, farms, and livestock; and more feasting.

Here in the United States there isn't much associated with the day unless there's an opportunity to sell something under the May Day Sale label. Even schools show little interest in May Day but it was a day-long festival at my elementary school in the 1950's. Actually the day was a big event for the whole community. It was so important that I recall the teachers having us outside days in advance to practice the May Pole dance until the lattice pattern on the pole was perfect. I wonder how enthusiastic they would have been had they known we were practicing a fertility rite. Aside from a few New Agers all religious associations with the activities have been left to an ancient past. These days it's simply good fun. Or at least a happy memory.

Maypole Dance, Bascom Hill, Wisconsin, May 1 ca. 1917

May you have a most festive Beltane.










Sources


Photos and Illustrations:
Photograph: University of Wisconsin Digital Collections

St. Patrick's Day 2023

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day! Today's post could focus on the contemporary experience of St. Patrick's Day in the U.S. - the wearing of the green, the parades, the parties, the drinking songs. Instead I want to look back at the true meaning of the day, the religious aspects, that so often get lost in the worldly celebration. Of course, there's nothing wrong with celebration - we do live in the world - as long as it's done in moderation while we keep the origins of the day in mind. Enjoy.

If you do nothing else with this post, at least listen to the remarkably powerful hymn.

The Reverend Paul Prange, Chair of the Board for Ministerial Education, Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod, has this to say about St. Patrick:

When it comes to St. Patrick, truth may be stranger than fiction.

Born in Scotland, he grew up as a Christian but was not too serious about his faith. His life changed suddenly at age sixteen when he was kidnapped by Irish pirates. For six years he labored as a slave, tending pigs and sheep. He began to value the Christian faith in which he had been raised. When he escaped from slavery, he made his way to the coast, got a job on a ship, and returned to his family in Scotland. 

Back in Scotland, he could not get Ireland out of his mind. The love of Christ was compelling him to share with his former captors the promises of God that had come to mean so much to him while he lived among them. After studying the Bible for nearly 20 years, he went back to Ireland a free man, and he never left. 

Patrick baptized thousands of people. He helped to organize congregations all over Ireland, and worked hard to train and ordain men to serve as ministers of the gospel. Among his converts were wealthy women who became Christians in the face of family opposition. He also dealt with the royal family of the time, instructing them in the truths of the faith. 

It is very unlikely that he drove all of the snakes out of Ireland. He probably did not wear green all of the time. But the historical truths of his life are inspiring, and cause us to give thanks to God for faithful missionaries.

Today's music is St. Patrick's Breastplate, a 19th century hymn based on words attributed to him.

St. Patrick's Breastplate

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,

by power of faith, Christ's Incarnation;

His baptism in the Jordan river;

His death on cross for my salvation;

His bursting from the spicèd tomb;

His riding up the heavenly way;

His coming at the day of doom:

I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today

the power of God to hold and lead,

His eye to watch, his might to stay,

His ear to hearken, to my need;

the wisdom of my God to teach,

his hand to guide, his shield to ward;

the word of God to give me speech,

His heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be with me,

Christ within me,

Christ behind me,

Christ before me,

Christ beside me,

Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort

and restore me.

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ in quiet,

Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of

all that love me,

Christ in mouth of

friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself today

the strong Name of the Trinity,

by invocation of the same,

the Three in One, and One in Three.

Of whom all nature hath creation,

Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:

praise to the Lord of my salvation,

salvation is of Christ the Lord.

Our literary piece comes from the opening paragraphs of the Confession, one of two extant documents written by St. Patrick. The translation from the Latin by Ludwig Bieler.

I am Patrick, a sinner, most unlearned, the least of all the faithful, and utterly despised by many. My father was Calpornius, a deacon, son of Potitus, a priest, of the village Bannavem Taburniæ; he had a country seat nearby, and there I was taken captive. 

I was then about sixteen years of age. I did not know the true God. I was taken into captivity to Ireland with many thousands of people---and deservedly so, because we turned away from God, and did not keep His commandments, and did not obey our priests, who used to remind us of our salvation. And the Lord brought over us the wrath of his anger and scattered us among many nations, even unto the utmost part of the earth, where now my littleness is placed among strangers. 

And there the Lord opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, who had regard for my abjection, and mercy on my youth and ignorance, and watched over me before I knew Him, and before I was able to distinguish between good and evil, and guarded me, and comforted me as would a father his son.Hence I cannot be silent---nor, indeed, is it expedient---about the great benefits and the great grace which the lord has deigned to bestow upon me in the land of my captivity; for this we can give to God in return after having been chastened by Him, to exalt and praise His wonders before every nation that is anywhere under the heaven. 

Because there is no other God, nor ever was, nor will be, than God the Father unbegotten, without beginning, from whom is all beginning, the Lord of the universe, as we have been taught; and His son Jesus Christ, whom we declare to have always been with the Father, spiritually and ineffably begotten by the Father before the beginning of the world, before all beginning; and by Him are made all things visible and invisible. He was made man, and, having defeated death, was received into heaven by the Father; and He hath given Him all power over all names in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue shall confess to Him that Jesus Christ is Lord and God, in whom we believe, and whose advent we expect soon to be, judge of the living and of the dead, who will render to every man according to his deeds; and He has poured forth upon us abundantly the Holy Spirit, the gift and pledge of immortality, who makes those who believe and obey sons of God and joint heirs with Christ; and Him do we confess and adore, one God in the Trinity of the Holy Name. 

For He Himself has said through the Prophet: Call upon me in the day of thy trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me. And again He says: It is honourable to reveal and confess the works of God. 

Although I am imperfect in many things, I nevertheless wish that my brethren and kinsmen should know what sort of person I am, so that they may understand my heart's desire. 

And so I should dread exceedingly, with fear and trembling, this sentence on that day when no one will be able to escape or hide, but we all, without exception, shall have to give an account even of our smallest sins before the judgement of the Lord Christ.

 

Here is a link to the remaining eight pages describing his journey from slave to missionary.

I hope readers enjoyed thia week's posts about Irish culture, especially today's piece on St. Patrick and his place in the history of Chritianity. May you and yours have a safe and happy St. Patrick's Day.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
oca.org

Text:

Prange comment, welslutherans site, Facebook
Confessions, catholicplanet.com

St. Patrick's Day Primer 2023 - Thursday Edition

 

Bring my pipe and fill its bowl,

That I may puff to sooth my soul.

For it is sure to clear my brain,

And bring old memories back again.

About Irish clay pipe traditions

And from the rich tradition of Irish literature we have this memory:

...I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish Wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

If you know the author and book title you can have an extra pint of Guinness tomorrow.

Once again the Irish Rovers provide the music for today's post. For the last fifty years they toured the world with their ballads. In 2015-16 they performed their last world tour. The members live in both Canada and Ireland and intend to keep the Rover sound alive by attending music festivals and special events.

Sources


Photos and Illustrations:
Postcard from the author's family archives

St. Patrick's Day Primer 2023 - Wednesday Edition

 

About the "Luck of the Irish"....

Ireland is home to the earliest works written in a local language in Western Europe. Much of that early literature featured mythological themes in the form of chants, songs, and poems. The tradition there is a long one covering perhaps 1500 years. Here is a short poem from our time written by William Butler Yeats, Ireland's Nobel Prize-winning literary icon. Indeed, the past is never far from the present...or the future.

To the Rose Upon the Rood of Time

Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!

Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:

Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;

The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,

Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;

And thine own sadness, where of stars, grown old

In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

Sing in their high and lonely melody.

Come near, that no more blinded hy man's fate,

I find under the boughs of love and hate,

In all poor foolish things that live a day,

Eternal beauty wandering on her way.

Come near, come near, come near - Ah, leave me still

A little space for the rose-breath to fill!

Lest I no more bear common things that crave;

The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,

The field-mouse running by me in the grass,

And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;

But seek alone to hear the strange things said

By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,

And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.

Come near; I would, before my time to go,

Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:

Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.

For today's music we look to Ireland not as a source but as a venue for one of the world's most beloved compositions, Messiah. George Frederic Handel composed his oratorio in London in less than four weeks. He chose Dublin as the site of the premiere because his works in the past year had met with a mediocre reception in London. On April 13, 1742 Messiah was greeted enthusiastically at its first performance. That enthusiasm spread quickly to London and throughout the western world. Here is the version of the Hallelujah chorus as it was performed in Dublin in 1742.

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Postcards, author's family archives

Text:
Yeats poem, The Literature Network, www.online-literature.com

St. Patrick's Day Primer 2023 - Tuesday Edition

In preparation for a day when everyone is just a little bit Irish I thought it would be fitting to visit the family's postcard archives and share pieces of Irish culture with readers.

About the Celtic harp

About the shamrock

About Erin go Bragh

Here is the Song of Ireland written by the English singer-songwriter, Phil Colclough, and his wife, June. The performance is by The Dubliners featuring one of its founding members, Luke Kelly. Although his career was cut short by an early death in 1984, he is credited with saving much of Ireland's traditional music. His Wikipedia biography notes the "[he] remains an Irish icon and his music is widely regarded as one of Ireland's cultural treasures."

Walking all the day, near tall towers where falcons build their nestsSilver winged they fly, they know the call of freedom in their breastsSoar Black Head against the sky, between the rocks that run down to the seaLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets, asked for more

I stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland

Talking all the day with true friends, who try to make you stayTelling jokes and news, singing songs to pass the night awayWatched the Galway salmon run like silver dancing darting in the sunLiving on your western shore saw summer sunsets, asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland

Drinking all the day in old pubs, where fiddlers love to playSomeone touched the bow, he played a reel, it seemed so fine and gayStood on Dingle beach and cast - in wild foam we found Atlantic BassLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and sang a song for Ireland

Dreaming in the night, I saw a land where no man had to fightWaking in your dawn, I saw you crying in the morning lightLying where the Falcons fly, they twist and turn all in you e'er blue skyLiving on your western shore, saw summer sunsets asked for moreI stood by your Atlantic sea, and I sang a song for Ireland

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Postcards from the author's family archives