"A Lover is like Narcissus"

A lover is like Narcissus

Or Eros to Psyche.

In offering his love the best,

He says, "The best is me!"

But how can man this justify

If first he loves his brother?

One cannot love a plural first

Unless the self is other.

Disgusted at lovers' conceits,

We leave them to our loss.

But self-love finds a selfless place

In the Man Upon the Cross.

Augustine

I was reading through the old saint's Confessions this morning, and I came upon an interesting little section. I'd quote it and let you love it, but I left it at home, so I'll just paraphrase.

Basically, Augustine was talking about how it's not wrong to love "corporeal objects." Rather, our love of all worldly things is good, because it makes us love the Giver more. Only in our self-deception can we ever love the object without giving glory to its Maker, and so, Augustine says, go on and love the world appropriately.

I usually just can't do that. I really like a lot of things. I love backpacking, but half the time, I only love it because it makes me feel cool. I like writing, even writing about how wonderful God is, but I often turn to scholarship or style instead of the Author of all things good.

I read a little Decartes the other day, and he was talking about purging himself of all things that are doubtable so he can start over fresh. I'd sometimes like to purge myself of all loves that are empty on their own and be made new. But I've already been made new. Weird.

"The Healing Pool of Belcedare"

I raised my king to his riding chair,
And the destination, far from there,
Was the Healing Pool of Belcedare.

My king, who once looked bright and fair,
Had caught the gorgon's diseased stare.
He now sat tethered to his chair
Till he reached the Pool of Belcedare.

In all Creation, nothing's so rare
As the Gift that springs to acrid air,
The water from that ancient lair
Of life. And every bather will Heaven spare
In the Healing Pool of Belcedare.

The monarch bearing with much care,
I crossed through plains and deserts bare;
We took straight paths, climbed each steep stair.
At last arrived, we caught a glare
Making red the water flowing there
In the Healing Pool of Belcedare.

The deep maroon gave me a scare,
But the king he bade me to prepare
For his descent from the riding chair.
Toward the flow, like colt to mare,
The king he crawled. His robes did tear,
And in he fell, broke body bare,
To the Healing Pool of Belcedare.

My heart could burst; my king was where?
Had to his death I led him there?
Then I heard laughter in a blare
Of royal noise, and I gave up care.
"Come, friend," spake king, "wherefore despair?
Just scrub your face and wash your hair
In the blood that makes the foulest fair.
I am healed at the Pool of Belcedare!"

You can figure out the allegory.

Some Pleasurable Snippets

I thought I'd entertain with a few words from my students.  Grammatical errors have been corrected.  These come from tests, papers, and class discussions:

From an extra-credit assignment:  

"The War of 1812 was fought between two well-known countries which had fought several times before:  the United States of America and Great Britain."  

For those of you who are unaware of this, the US had only fought Britain in the Revolution.

From a paper on the Second Great Awakening:  

"A refunding disposition was in progress."

I simply have no idea what that could possibly mean.

From a Bible Quiz:

Q:  Do Jesus and Nicodemus discuss any of the "Ultimate Questions" of Origin, Identity, Meaning, Morality, or Destiny?  Explain.

A (Student 1):  You are a Spirit of God.  

A (Student 2):  They discuss that Christianity is real.

While I do appreciate that one of my students thinks I am a Spirit of God, and although I am willing to admit that my students might use phrases (like "refunding disposition") that I am unfamiliar with, I must say, these kids make me feel pretty smart sometimes.