There's something I really don't understand, and it's the root of the problem for me when it comes to Catholics. I'd rather sooner call them Petrians instead of Christians. What I don't get is why they choose to follow a... a... stupid head like Peter instead of following Christ.
I'm reading, as part of my homework tonight, the declaration of excommunication for Henry IV by Pope Gregory VII, and at the end he says, "...I bind him thus as commissioned by thee, that the nations may know and be convinced that thou art Peter and that upon thy rock the son of the living God has built his Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." (As cited in Sources of 'The Making of the West', edited by Katharine Lualdi, pg. 195) He's writing this declaration to Peter. Not Christ, not God, but Peter. This rock to which he refers is mentioned in Matthew 16:15-18 (KJV):
15 He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am?
16 And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.
17 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for the flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.
18 And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
Okay, so there it is. Christ calls on Peter to be the foundation of His church. That doesn't change the fact that Peter isn't actually the one in charge. It's like... a coach. I don't use sports analogies very often, but to me this reads less like 'Build a church and have people pray to you and excommunicate in your name' and more like 'I have this group of people who are going to need a leader to keep up the good work.' Peter isn't the one to be prayed to, Christ is still the foundation, Peter may just be a cornerstone. Or, and here's the sports analogy I just mentioned, Christ owns a basketball team and Peter coaches. Respect the coach, but essentially it's Christ who owns you, right?
So why pray to Peter? Why worship saints at all? If there's one thing the Byzantines got right, it's iconoclasm. God commanded that we have no other gods before Him. Christ said follow him. What are saints but other people who, while reputable and good examples, are little more than... well... other people. They're just as susceptible to sin as we are. Augustine thrived in debauchery for a long time, for crying out loud. While I love reading Augustine, it's not his example that I want to follow most. These relics and symbols that Catholics cling to are idolatrous and go against everything Christ stood for. You want idols? I hear the cult of Demeter is recruiting in Greece...
Besides that, Peter was a fool. In the chapter before, he asks Christ to explain a parable (Matt. 15:15-20). I can just imagine Christ's frustration written all over his face as if to say, "You've been hanging around with me for how long, and you still don't get it? Are you even listening?!" If Peter doesn't get it, how can we expect him to be a good leader, especially if it's all guesswork on his part after Christ leaves? This guy is less and less a candidate for church leadership by the minute. His saving grace is that he loves Christ and is a worthy disciple, if not also a little slow.
Let's get back to Matthew 16. In the footnotes of my Bible, it makes mention of the wordplay so characteristic of Christ's way of teaching. 'Peter' is derived from the Greek word 'petros' which means 'small rock'. Okay, so Peter is a rock, that's clear enough, but let's back up a second and take in the whole passage, because the grammar doesn't match up. He (Christ) says "thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church". My NIV translation also has that grammatic stylization, "... you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church". Christ is clearly not saying "and on you I will build my church". So what's the second rock he is refering to? If we know Christ's style of teaching, it's always allegorical and through parallels. If He meant Peter to be the second rock, he would have said so.
In verse seventeen, the second rock is revealed. It's the response given to Peter's testimony of the Christ. "... For flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven." That is the rock. It's Rock's rock. It's his testimony which will act as the foundation for the church and indeed for the faith of all Christians. Christ isn't giving over the glory to Peter. He can't be both coach and owner of the team. The rock is the revelation from God, by the Holy Ghost, that Christ is the savior.
So then, shouldn't our faith be built on the rock of testimony rather than the organization of a church? Not if you're Catholic apparently. Based on how I see Catholics live, it is by the politics of their church rather than their own personal faith in God anyway. There seems to be more emphasis on ritual than on living by pure faith and testimony. A sad way to go about existence, if you ask me.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
On a Bad Week
This is the week that kicks off my less than pleasant April. It comes without fail every year, and I'm still at a loss as to why April is the way it is. Is it more difficult than, say, November because there is no festive pause to allow a deep breath before the plunge? This is my theory anyway. April is always the worst month in my year.
So why so glum? I'm passing my classes, all of which I enjoy for the most part. It may be the anticipation of final papers and exams. In the next three weeks I have to explain Zoroastrianism in first century Iran in a paper addressed to an idiot audience. I must compare the philosophies of Alexander the Great, Cicero, and Charlemagne on power and greatness. Lastly I will analyze early modern literature from a feminist perspective, which will be the most difficult because my tyrannous professor is a flaming feminist who specializes in Latin American literature and I am decidedly non/post feminist with a preference for pre-20th century British literature and a bias against anything from the Americas. That will be the difficulty and currently sits as the source of my woes. Or not...
Trixie has announced her departure. Already, and too long in coming. There are twenty two days left to endure her inconsiderations and predisposition to phoniness. I don't know if I'll make it and I'm not sure she will either. She, above all, is what makes me the most unhappy. Arrgh.
On Monday I come home to discover her car in the drive. Funny, she said she'd be out of town all week. I was counting on her being out of town. It would've been a glorious week without her or her boyfriend in the house and I could relax. Didn't work that way though. I've concluded that the reason why I am so frustrated lately is because her very presence demands a certain amount of walking on eggshells. If there's anyone I can't tolerate it's a phony. Unfortunately we all must be phonies to a degree, and when I come home it's with the expectation that I can relax and be myself and not have to cater to anyone's self perception. Now I'm on edge all the time in the case that she decides to appear and demand me to be in 'customer service' mode.
The stress from the day (It was a bad day at work with angry customers) was escalated when I discovered that the dishes (MY dishes that I don't use because she uses them and doesn't wash them) were all dirty and that her boyfriend had brought a posse to hang out. Bro is here every day, and it kills me. Her sister has also taken to arriving in the ungodly hours of the morning to spend the night. Every night. I had a fit like a two year old. I threw the garbage can across the room as I tried to jerk the bag out because it was full and 'someone' hadn't bothered to take it out. I was overanxious and aggravated to the point that I knew I could not get any studying done.
Tuesday was hard because I had foolishly taken an extra shift, losing precious time to the whims of retail. I don't regret volunteering to take the shift. If it had been anyone other than my very good friend Gage asking for someone to cover it, I would not have taken it. This does not make it any less foolish of me, but I'm glad to be of service. I only regret making him buy me a sandwich since I had no time that day to grab anything from the start of my original shift at 7:45 am to the end of his at 7:15 pm. I don't typically- no, I NEVER ask for compensation for a service like that, and I feel as though I cheated him.
Wednesday was a blur. All I really remember of the day was riding the bus home and trying to make plans for the weekend only to be reminded that it's that time of year. Not only are my friends too busy with the end of term, but I really am as well and shouldn't be wasting my time on socialization. Living in a house with an intellectual black hole, however, is making the isolation unbearably difficult to cope with. I have several ideas I want to talk out, and all Tonks wants to do is pounce on spiders until they're D-E-D dead.
Despite it all; despite the unwanted April snowstorms and the load of research and writing to be done, I can't say I'm disappointed. Krissy, my roommate, has been a trooper the whole time. When I lost control and threw the rubbish bin, she calmed me down and took me to a coffee shop to study. It was nice to be a patron rather than a caterer, and I was able to get through my homework better than I would have at home. We shared a large piece of red velvet cake and had some hot drinks. On Thursday we went to In-N-Out for dinner and stopped at IKEA to pick up some furniture. Even after the accumulation of crap in the course of four days, spending an hour trying to pack a large desk into her over-packed SUV was a joy rather than a hindrance. It looks fantastic in the living room.
What it comes down to, and I will have to write another blog on this later, is that I'm happy. Even with the stress, I've been able to stand back and say that I'd have it no other way. I'm working towards something, and in the end all I have is myself to satisfy me. I think I'm doing a damned good job at being me and I can defeat April. I can defeat Trixie's stupidity. I can defeat these end of term assignments. Why? Because I'm bleeding brilliant, and I know what I'm going to do with the time that is given to me; keep at it and stand above time.
So why so glum? I'm passing my classes, all of which I enjoy for the most part. It may be the anticipation of final papers and exams. In the next three weeks I have to explain Zoroastrianism in first century Iran in a paper addressed to an idiot audience. I must compare the philosophies of Alexander the Great, Cicero, and Charlemagne on power and greatness. Lastly I will analyze early modern literature from a feminist perspective, which will be the most difficult because my tyrannous professor is a flaming feminist who specializes in Latin American literature and I am decidedly non/post feminist with a preference for pre-20th century British literature and a bias against anything from the Americas. That will be the difficulty and currently sits as the source of my woes. Or not...
Trixie has announced her departure. Already, and too long in coming. There are twenty two days left to endure her inconsiderations and predisposition to phoniness. I don't know if I'll make it and I'm not sure she will either. She, above all, is what makes me the most unhappy. Arrgh.
On Monday I come home to discover her car in the drive. Funny, she said she'd be out of town all week. I was counting on her being out of town. It would've been a glorious week without her or her boyfriend in the house and I could relax. Didn't work that way though. I've concluded that the reason why I am so frustrated lately is because her very presence demands a certain amount of walking on eggshells. If there's anyone I can't tolerate it's a phony. Unfortunately we all must be phonies to a degree, and when I come home it's with the expectation that I can relax and be myself and not have to cater to anyone's self perception. Now I'm on edge all the time in the case that she decides to appear and demand me to be in 'customer service' mode.
The stress from the day (It was a bad day at work with angry customers) was escalated when I discovered that the dishes (MY dishes that I don't use because she uses them and doesn't wash them) were all dirty and that her boyfriend had brought a posse to hang out. Bro is here every day, and it kills me. Her sister has also taken to arriving in the ungodly hours of the morning to spend the night. Every night. I had a fit like a two year old. I threw the garbage can across the room as I tried to jerk the bag out because it was full and 'someone' hadn't bothered to take it out. I was overanxious and aggravated to the point that I knew I could not get any studying done.
Tuesday was hard because I had foolishly taken an extra shift, losing precious time to the whims of retail. I don't regret volunteering to take the shift. If it had been anyone other than my very good friend Gage asking for someone to cover it, I would not have taken it. This does not make it any less foolish of me, but I'm glad to be of service. I only regret making him buy me a sandwich since I had no time that day to grab anything from the start of my original shift at 7:45 am to the end of his at 7:15 pm. I don't typically- no, I NEVER ask for compensation for a service like that, and I feel as though I cheated him.
Wednesday was a blur. All I really remember of the day was riding the bus home and trying to make plans for the weekend only to be reminded that it's that time of year. Not only are my friends too busy with the end of term, but I really am as well and shouldn't be wasting my time on socialization. Living in a house with an intellectual black hole, however, is making the isolation unbearably difficult to cope with. I have several ideas I want to talk out, and all Tonks wants to do is pounce on spiders until they're D-E-D dead.
Despite it all; despite the unwanted April snowstorms and the load of research and writing to be done, I can't say I'm disappointed. Krissy, my roommate, has been a trooper the whole time. When I lost control and threw the rubbish bin, she calmed me down and took me to a coffee shop to study. It was nice to be a patron rather than a caterer, and I was able to get through my homework better than I would have at home. We shared a large piece of red velvet cake and had some hot drinks. On Thursday we went to In-N-Out for dinner and stopped at IKEA to pick up some furniture. Even after the accumulation of crap in the course of four days, spending an hour trying to pack a large desk into her over-packed SUV was a joy rather than a hindrance. It looks fantastic in the living room.
What it comes down to, and I will have to write another blog on this later, is that I'm happy. Even with the stress, I've been able to stand back and say that I'd have it no other way. I'm working towards something, and in the end all I have is myself to satisfy me. I think I'm doing a damned good job at being me and I can defeat April. I can defeat Trixie's stupidity. I can defeat these end of term assignments. Why? Because I'm bleeding brilliant, and I know what I'm going to do with the time that is given to me; keep at it and stand above time.
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