Dear Neighbors,
We are all bereaved; I with you, ye all with me and with each other, together and separately. Some indeed more closely and keenly, but none of us are untouched. We mourn for the friends we are robbed of. We mourn the sense of graceful motion now lost --- for where once we had walked as on a tightrope of common neighborly trust, we are now enmired by the strange customs of strange men, the possessed of fear and of walking Death and of Office --- strange gods indeed. We mourn the blood we have shed in search of vengeance. If we are wise, we will seek God's justice and rejoice therein, and lament the souls lost, caught by the stumbling blocks we have scattered about us.
But, for the sake of those friends of whom we are robbed, we must remember to pray in hope, and we must take comfort that they all shall find beatitude who can; and we must not forget to live. We must dare to live in joy; on this memorial of Our Lord's Resurrection, let us live, looking towards and keeping ourselves for the life of the World to come.
one among you
Sunday, September 11, 2011
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2 comments:
+JMJ+
I've come to this post several times to read it, but whenever I play the music again, it makes the words seem completely superfluous. I have a vague idea of what you've written, Dev, but I'm afraid Tchaikovsky's music trumps your prose!
PS -- Captcha is "chivelly." I'm so tickled.
That is probably one of the most gratifying let-downs I can imagine reading; and therefore thanks.
As it happens, the most moving memory I have of ten years ago was to hear all those beautiful English voices singing The Star Spangled Banner and Battle Hymn of the Republic in St. Paul's in London. If we can get the right music, and get the music right, then that's plenty.
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