Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
~William Shakespeare
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
To Set The Tone...
I wrote and presented this opening speech on 17 April, 2010 to welcome attendees to the Pro-Life Youth Conference. I've been wanting to post it for a few days now. I don't know why. It is written in a more casual style than I am used to writing in, because it is a verbally given presentation. The audience was predominantly high school students. I hope you find it worthwhile.
Hello. My name is Sarah C- and I am a senior at - - - - - , and also a co-chair for this year's conference. It is my privilege to be the first to officially welcome each of you to the seventh annual pro-life youth conference here at - - . This year's theme, "The Innocents: Let Their Song be Sung!" was inspired by the Feast of the Holy Innocents.
The Feast of the Holy Innocents calls to mind Herod's soldiers slaughtering the innocent male infants of Bethlehem. He had them murdered because he was told that a King had been born in Bethlehem, and he was afraid of loosing his power and his life of luxury to another king, so he figured the easiest way to continue living comfortably was to get rid of the threat by killing the children, hoping baby Jesus would be among the victims of the small genocide. The conference planners felt that this is an appropriate event to reflect on in this conference because, even though it occurred 2 thousand years ago on the other side of the world, we can see it happening around us, in our times, in our countries, in our own families, in our friend's lives, and in our own lives. Only this time it's not as obvious. There are obviously not soldiers running through our streets on horses, bearing swords and knocking down doors, and the ground beneath our feet isn't literally soaked with the blood of the innocents. We feel like the dramatic, almost theatrical image of this Feast helps awaken a sense of urgency, calling attention to the sacredness of all human life and the respect it deserves, especially the most defenseless and the most innocent among us, from the unborn to the elderly, from the foreigner to the mentally challenged, and from our Hollywood idols to the misfits roaming our school halls. For us, it helps the realities of pain, destruction, and the Culture of Death set in. This feast reminds us that human life is still under attack, but this time the battlefields are the places we live our lives: our schools, our homes, whenever we are in contact with other people we either uphold human dignity or we tear it apart.
Today's attacks are a very real thing. These empty seats are reserved for our peers who have fallen victim to abortion. They would be our peers, our friends, or classmates, teammates, bandmates, boyfriends, girlfriends, and our neighborhood hangout buddies. One fourth of our own generation are the casualties of this war. In some way, every person in existence participates in the conflict between the culture of death and the individual human being, and we affect it in three basic ways: our words, our choices, and our prayers. It's too easy to forget how powerful our words can be. Our words can cut through a person until they wish their heart would be ripped out to end the pain we have inflicted, and other times a comment we make is what gives a person the strength they need to get through the day. We may dare to discuss the heavy things that are generally avoided and offer a point of view that someone had never realized existed or they'd never really thought of before, And it may cause them to approach a question differently, and they may gain some sort of new understanding as a result. This is the way our words have the power to convert a mind. The second way we engage in the conflicts hiding around us, is in our choices and what we do in our everyday lives. We can scowl at people or we can talk to them. We can help our neighbors or we can pull pranks on them. You could donate a weekend a month to some movement you are passionate about, maybe join an organization here today or become involved in your own style, maybe create a blog or a website, start a group, write a song: whatever action makes the most sense to you to defend life. Or we could spend every weekend briefly entertaining ourselves at the movies, and allowing our views to affect only ourselves. We could encourage a friend in a crisis pregnancy situation to choose life and actually LIVE what we believe and what we take from here today, or we could passively accept their decision to abort, as if their decision only affected themselves.
Finally, praying is probably the most powerful thing we can do to defend the innocents. Prayers affirm our personal beliefs and convictions on an individual basis, and it calls a higher power than any of us to become an active participant among us in the fight for the culture of life. We recognize that we are only instruments and that Prayer is the power behind everything we do. Through our words and choices and lives, our prayers can come alive and take on some perceivable, tangible form. So our words, choices and prayers are all ways we reveal the side we choose to live for: the Culture of Life or the Culture of Death.
Every soul is precious. Every individual person is meaningful. Every action of ours, no matter how small it may seem, counts a lot. Because in some way, it accepts or rejects life.
One final thing I would like to point out is that everyone in this room has the support of Building Bridges and many others in your efforts to uphold the dignity of human life. When you act on behalf of life, you are never alone. It’s impossible to be alone. Because you have many friends in this room, and the Song of the Innocents will continue long after this conference ends today, and long after we all go to sleep tonight. Life has already triumphed and Love hasn't ended yet.
So today from our speakers, you will be offered a ton of information, you will hear some incredibly personal and moving stories, you will be given ideas. At the booths in the back, you will be offered opportunities to become involved with various organizations and you will be given resources. And throughout the day, you will also have the opportunity to participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation until we say the Rosary and celebrate Sunday Mass later this afternoon.
On behalf of the planners, all I would like to request of each of you today is that you keep your heart and your mind open, and that you become an active participant in this day as we attempt to let the Song of the Innocents be sung.
"It's no accident we're here tonight. We are once in a life time."
~ Needle and Haystack Life
Hello. My name is Sarah C- and I am a senior at - - - - - , and also a co-chair for this year's conference. It is my privilege to be the first to officially welcome each of you to the seventh annual pro-life youth conference here at - - . This year's theme, "The Innocents: Let Their Song be Sung!" was inspired by the Feast of the Holy Innocents.
The Feast of the Holy Innocents calls to mind Herod's soldiers slaughtering the innocent male infants of Bethlehem. He had them murdered because he was told that a King had been born in Bethlehem, and he was afraid of loosing his power and his life of luxury to another king, so he figured the easiest way to continue living comfortably was to get rid of the threat by killing the children, hoping baby Jesus would be among the victims of the small genocide. The conference planners felt that this is an appropriate event to reflect on in this conference because, even though it occurred 2 thousand years ago on the other side of the world, we can see it happening around us, in our times, in our countries, in our own families, in our friend's lives, and in our own lives. Only this time it's not as obvious. There are obviously not soldiers running through our streets on horses, bearing swords and knocking down doors, and the ground beneath our feet isn't literally soaked with the blood of the innocents. We feel like the dramatic, almost theatrical image of this Feast helps awaken a sense of urgency, calling attention to the sacredness of all human life and the respect it deserves, especially the most defenseless and the most innocent among us, from the unborn to the elderly, from the foreigner to the mentally challenged, and from our Hollywood idols to the misfits roaming our school halls. For us, it helps the realities of pain, destruction, and the Culture of Death set in. This feast reminds us that human life is still under attack, but this time the battlefields are the places we live our lives: our schools, our homes, whenever we are in contact with other people we either uphold human dignity or we tear it apart.
Today's attacks are a very real thing. These empty seats are reserved for our peers who have fallen victim to abortion. They would be our peers, our friends, or classmates, teammates, bandmates, boyfriends, girlfriends, and our neighborhood hangout buddies. One fourth of our own generation are the casualties of this war. In some way, every person in existence participates in the conflict between the culture of death and the individual human being, and we affect it in three basic ways: our words, our choices, and our prayers. It's too easy to forget how powerful our words can be. Our words can cut through a person until they wish their heart would be ripped out to end the pain we have inflicted, and other times a comment we make is what gives a person the strength they need to get through the day. We may dare to discuss the heavy things that are generally avoided and offer a point of view that someone had never realized existed or they'd never really thought of before, And it may cause them to approach a question differently, and they may gain some sort of new understanding as a result. This is the way our words have the power to convert a mind. The second way we engage in the conflicts hiding around us, is in our choices and what we do in our everyday lives. We can scowl at people or we can talk to them. We can help our neighbors or we can pull pranks on them. You could donate a weekend a month to some movement you are passionate about, maybe join an organization here today or become involved in your own style, maybe create a blog or a website, start a group, write a song: whatever action makes the most sense to you to defend life. Or we could spend every weekend briefly entertaining ourselves at the movies, and allowing our views to affect only ourselves. We could encourage a friend in a crisis pregnancy situation to choose life and actually LIVE what we believe and what we take from here today, or we could passively accept their decision to abort, as if their decision only affected themselves.
Finally, praying is probably the most powerful thing we can do to defend the innocents. Prayers affirm our personal beliefs and convictions on an individual basis, and it calls a higher power than any of us to become an active participant among us in the fight for the culture of life. We recognize that we are only instruments and that Prayer is the power behind everything we do. Through our words and choices and lives, our prayers can come alive and take on some perceivable, tangible form. So our words, choices and prayers are all ways we reveal the side we choose to live for: the Culture of Life or the Culture of Death.
Every soul is precious. Every individual person is meaningful. Every action of ours, no matter how small it may seem, counts a lot. Because in some way, it accepts or rejects life.
One final thing I would like to point out is that everyone in this room has the support of Building Bridges and many others in your efforts to uphold the dignity of human life. When you act on behalf of life, you are never alone. It’s impossible to be alone. Because you have many friends in this room, and the Song of the Innocents will continue long after this conference ends today, and long after we all go to sleep tonight. Life has already triumphed and Love hasn't ended yet.
So today from our speakers, you will be offered a ton of information, you will hear some incredibly personal and moving stories, you will be given ideas. At the booths in the back, you will be offered opportunities to become involved with various organizations and you will be given resources. And throughout the day, you will also have the opportunity to participate in the Sacrament of Reconciliation until we say the Rosary and celebrate Sunday Mass later this afternoon.
On behalf of the planners, all I would like to request of each of you today is that you keep your heart and your mind open, and that you become an active participant in this day as we attempt to let the Song of the Innocents be sung.
"It's no accident we're here tonight. We are once in a life time."
~ Needle and Haystack Life
Unaltered In-Class Assignment
23 September, 2010
What is it that makes humans, human?
To put it simply and concisely, people (humans) have souls. Humans have the ability to feel pain before the cause of pain has actually happened, because humans have the ability to understand that pain is coming in the near future. Humans have the ability to believe that not everything in existence is seen, and even that there is a very real interaction between the abstract and the concrete. Human beings have a choice, they have the ability to always choose to do or not do something, even something their reason and/or instinct refuses to condone. Humans have the ability to be inspired by other humans. We have the capacity and, I think, the necessity to find reasons for action outside of our own personal survival. Human beings do more than survive. We thrive. Because we take the most simple and basic of what we have at our disposal, mix it all together, and create something completely new with a new meaning and purpose. We are driven (generally) by ideas more than our desires. Humans have found ways to connect the abstract with the concrete through creativity and chosen action, rather than instinctually driven action.
What is it that makes humans, human?
To put it simply and concisely, people (humans) have souls. Humans have the ability to feel pain before the cause of pain has actually happened, because humans have the ability to understand that pain is coming in the near future. Humans have the ability to believe that not everything in existence is seen, and even that there is a very real interaction between the abstract and the concrete. Human beings have a choice, they have the ability to always choose to do or not do something, even something their reason and/or instinct refuses to condone. Humans have the ability to be inspired by other humans. We have the capacity and, I think, the necessity to find reasons for action outside of our own personal survival. Human beings do more than survive. We thrive. Because we take the most simple and basic of what we have at our disposal, mix it all together, and create something completely new with a new meaning and purpose. We are driven (generally) by ideas more than our desires. Humans have found ways to connect the abstract with the concrete through creativity and chosen action, rather than instinctually driven action.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The Final Fight
Beautiful song.
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. ~twloha.com/vision/story
"Fear. Fear attracts the fearful. The strong. The weak. The innocent. The corrupt.
Fear.
Fear is my ally."
~Darth Maul
I believe that there is Good and Evil.
I believe that they are both active.
I believe that they conflict, that they are opposites, mortal enemies.
Call me what you like, I believe that Good trumps Evil.
I believe this to be a Truth.
Meaning that it is true, whether men agree or not.
The philosophical realm does not tolerate democracy.
Because democracy is not based on Truth.
But that's an argument for another post.
I believe that Good trumps Evil, and I believe this is true.
I also believe that all men must choose to live for one over the other.
I believe most men make this choice without realizing it.
I believe this is possible because the choice is made everyday.
I believe our actions and experiences have a purpose.
I believe that purpose is to change men, to transform us, to convert our hearts.
That, I believe, is what life is about: a conversion of the heart of Man.
I am not speaking strictly religiously.
Faith without works is, after all, dead.
I am saying that every moment you are alive, every heartbeat, every breath, every step, every word, every touch, always, you are in constant metaphysical motion.
Movement is possible in one of two directions at a time: forwards or backwards.
Good or Evil.
There have been moments when I stop doing. I just stop. And I feel the stillness around me. I let the stillness saturate my skin. I attempt to become equally still inwardly. I simply exist for a moment, and I feel. I find that the initial stillness masks a collision of sorts as it occurrs around me. I witness it. I am a part of it. It's over humanity. It's over me. My heart begins to race. So this is what it's all about, this is why I'm here?
"This issue is now quite clear. It is between light and darkness, and everyone must choose his side."
~GKC's last words
The Sound (John M. Perkins Blues)
The Static comes in slow.
You can feel it grow.
Our stream of conscience flows
Under the streets below.
The rivers made of sound
Still running underground
Runs like a silent flood.
We run as thick as blood.
Can you hear it rise
Up from the ground?
Can't drown it out,
Can you hear it now?
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
By our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.
The static comes alive
Beneath the broken sky.
John Perkins said it right:
Love is the Final Fight.
Let it rise above,
Rise above.
There is no song
Louder than Love.
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Let it rise above
Up from the ground.
Can't drown it out.
Can you hear it now?
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
of the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our fallen condition.
We are the voice of breaking down.
This is the sound.
This is the sound.
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. ~twloha.com/vision/story
"Fear. Fear attracts the fearful. The strong. The weak. The innocent. The corrupt.
Fear.
Fear is my ally."
~Darth Maul
I believe that there is Good and Evil.
I believe that they are both active.
I believe that they conflict, that they are opposites, mortal enemies.
Call me what you like, I believe that Good trumps Evil.
I believe this to be a Truth.
Meaning that it is true, whether men agree or not.
The philosophical realm does not tolerate democracy.
Because democracy is not based on Truth.
But that's an argument for another post.
I believe that Good trumps Evil, and I believe this is true.
I also believe that all men must choose to live for one over the other.
I believe most men make this choice without realizing it.
I believe this is possible because the choice is made everyday.
I believe our actions and experiences have a purpose.
I believe that purpose is to change men, to transform us, to convert our hearts.
That, I believe, is what life is about: a conversion of the heart of Man.
I am not speaking strictly religiously.
Faith without works is, after all, dead.
I am saying that every moment you are alive, every heartbeat, every breath, every step, every word, every touch, always, you are in constant metaphysical motion.
Movement is possible in one of two directions at a time: forwards or backwards.
Good or Evil.
There have been moments when I stop doing. I just stop. And I feel the stillness around me. I let the stillness saturate my skin. I attempt to become equally still inwardly. I simply exist for a moment, and I feel. I find that the initial stillness masks a collision of sorts as it occurrs around me. I witness it. I am a part of it. It's over humanity. It's over me. My heart begins to race. So this is what it's all about, this is why I'm here?
"This issue is now quite clear. It is between light and darkness, and everyone must choose his side."
~GKC's last words
The Sound (John M. Perkins Blues)
The Static comes in slow.
You can feel it grow.
Our stream of conscience flows
Under the streets below.
The rivers made of sound
Still running underground
Runs like a silent flood.
We run as thick as blood.
Can you hear it rise
Up from the ground?
Can't drown it out,
Can you hear it now?
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
By our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.
The static comes alive
Beneath the broken sky.
John Perkins said it right:
Love is the Final Fight.
Let it rise above,
Rise above.
There is no song
Louder than Love.
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
from the discontented mouths
of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our own collisions.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Let it rise above
Up from the ground.
Can't drown it out.
Can you hear it now?
This is the sound
of a heartbeat.
This is the sound
of the discontented mouths
Of a haunted nation.
We are the voice of breaking down.
Can you hear me?
This is the sound
of the desperation bound
by our fallen condition.
We are the voice of breaking down.
This is the sound.
This is the sound.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
...like freedom in spring
We all need people to talk to about anything. Two kinds of people are easiest to talk to about anything:
The people closest to us
These are ideal, and not everyone has them. The ones we grew up with, who've seen us at our best and worst like anyone could, but they've seen us through it. They know what we have given up and gained. They know our true stories, our true selves, our hearts.
People we meet once and never again
These people do not know our name, where we live, what we've done, what we believe. They may know our typing speed. For one brief moment they may listen better than people who think they know us because they have no pre-conceptions.
Both of these kinds of people can provide what we want. What we want is to be deeply known without being judged.
"...she's been staring down the demons who've been screaming she's just another so-and-so
don't let go, don't let go tonight.
there's a fear that burns like trash inside,
and your shame the curse that burns your eyes.
you've been hiding in the bedroom hoping this isn't how the story has to go.
it's not the way it goes.
it's your book now.
you're a lonely soul in the land of broken hearts
and your "far from home" is the perfect place to start
this world is a dead man down
every breath is a fading crown we wear like some debilitated king
the earth spins and the moon goes round
the green comes from the frozen ground
and everything will be made new again
like freedom in spring"
~Golden, by Switchfoot
The people closest to us
These are ideal, and not everyone has them. The ones we grew up with, who've seen us at our best and worst like anyone could, but they've seen us through it. They know what we have given up and gained. They know our true stories, our true selves, our hearts.
People we meet once and never again
These people do not know our name, where we live, what we've done, what we believe. They may know our typing speed. For one brief moment they may listen better than people who think they know us because they have no pre-conceptions.
Both of these kinds of people can provide what we want. What we want is to be deeply known without being judged.
"...she's been staring down the demons who've been screaming she's just another so-and-so
don't let go, don't let go tonight.
there's a fear that burns like trash inside,
and your shame the curse that burns your eyes.
you've been hiding in the bedroom hoping this isn't how the story has to go.
it's not the way it goes.
it's your book now.
you're a lonely soul in the land of broken hearts
and your "far from home" is the perfect place to start
this world is a dead man down
every breath is a fading crown we wear like some debilitated king
the earth spins and the moon goes round
the green comes from the frozen ground
and everything will be made new again
like freedom in spring"
~Golden, by Switchfoot
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Love. Always.
One of the retreats my high school required us to go on. The theme of this particular weekend was something like "removing the masks"- we were supposed to be examining our past and our hopes for our futures, and find who we are, our true identity in the middle of it all. In the now, behind the disguises we wear for the world, and sometimes for ourselves. The ones that we've been wearing for too long because we forget what we look like underneath them.
Naturally, one of the crafts was creating a papier mache mask of each other's faces then decorating our own with images symbolizing ourselves in the future. Most of my classmates' images had something to do with a sport, a college, or a profession. Mine wasn't. I am not an athlete. I was not looking forward to college. I still have no idea what sort of job I want to work at when I grow up. And I hate planning my future like that. I can handle only the present. If I think of more, my performance becomes beyond poor, and my sanity slips.
The only constant I've seen in my past and the only pattern I believe I can count on seeing in my future is suffering. Suffering coupled with joy if I allow it. My mask was different. One half was entirely black, except for a circlet of dead and painful thorns, and a single red tear of blood shed by the eye. I decorated this side as I thought of the letdowns, the pain, the evil I will participate in and witness over the course of my life. This is the heavy, darker, desperate side of life, of my future. I let the other half of my face remain white, except a simple crown of read roses and a bit of soft crimson in the cheeks. This half is meant to reveal the beauty, the purity, the love, the goodness I may choose despite the darkness' suffocating weight. This is the light, lovely, hopeful potential of my life, of me.
The opposites rely on each other to maintain the delicate balance of sanity. Much like how Love implies Justice as well as Mercy.
As real as suffering is, its couterpart must be moreso. I believe it is simple, and I believe it is called Love. Always. Every opportunity with everyone you meet - you will be given each opportunity only once. Love them as well as you know how, if only for a moment. Chances are, they will not take much notice. But if you persist someone will. When they do, they will remember you and that moment. They will remember that there is more to life than the mundane and the letdown it often seems to be. You are alive, and that is no accident, no coincidence. You are meant to live for more than you've settled for.
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle."
~ Plato
Let Your Love be Strong
By Switchfoot
In this world of news
I've found nothing new.
I've found nothing pure.
Maybe I'm just idealistic to assume that Truth
Could be fact and form,
That love could be a verb.
Maybe I'm just a little misinformed.
As the dead moon rises
and the freeways sigh,
Let the trains watch over
the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight.
Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles;
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired.
Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All of my world hanging on your love.
Let the wars begin.
Let my strength wear thin.
Let my fingers crack.
Let my world fall apart.
Train the monkeys on my back to fight.
Let it start tonight
When my world explodes,
when my stars touch the ground,
Falling down like broken satellites.
Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All that I am hanging on,
All of my world resting on
Your Love.
Persist.
Naturally, one of the crafts was creating a papier mache mask of each other's faces then decorating our own with images symbolizing ourselves in the future. Most of my classmates' images had something to do with a sport, a college, or a profession. Mine wasn't. I am not an athlete. I was not looking forward to college. I still have no idea what sort of job I want to work at when I grow up. And I hate planning my future like that. I can handle only the present. If I think of more, my performance becomes beyond poor, and my sanity slips.
The only constant I've seen in my past and the only pattern I believe I can count on seeing in my future is suffering. Suffering coupled with joy if I allow it. My mask was different. One half was entirely black, except for a circlet of dead and painful thorns, and a single red tear of blood shed by the eye. I decorated this side as I thought of the letdowns, the pain, the evil I will participate in and witness over the course of my life. This is the heavy, darker, desperate side of life, of my future. I let the other half of my face remain white, except a simple crown of read roses and a bit of soft crimson in the cheeks. This half is meant to reveal the beauty, the purity, the love, the goodness I may choose despite the darkness' suffocating weight. This is the light, lovely, hopeful potential of my life, of me.
The opposites rely on each other to maintain the delicate balance of sanity. Much like how Love implies Justice as well as Mercy.
As real as suffering is, its couterpart must be moreso. I believe it is simple, and I believe it is called Love. Always. Every opportunity with everyone you meet - you will be given each opportunity only once. Love them as well as you know how, if only for a moment. Chances are, they will not take much notice. But if you persist someone will. When they do, they will remember you and that moment. They will remember that there is more to life than the mundane and the letdown it often seems to be. You are alive, and that is no accident, no coincidence. You are meant to live for more than you've settled for.
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle."
~ Plato
Let Your Love be Strong
By Switchfoot
In this world of news
I've found nothing new.
I've found nothing pure.
Maybe I'm just idealistic to assume that Truth
Could be fact and form,
That love could be a verb.
Maybe I'm just a little misinformed.
As the dead moon rises
and the freeways sigh,
Let the trains watch over
the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight.
Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles;
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired.
Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All of my world hanging on your love.
Let the wars begin.
Let my strength wear thin.
Let my fingers crack.
Let my world fall apart.
Train the monkeys on my back to fight.
Let it start tonight
When my world explodes,
when my stars touch the ground,
Falling down like broken satellites.
Let your love be strong and I don't care what goes down.
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud.
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes.
All that I am hanging on,
All of my world resting on
Your Love.
Persist.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The Illusion of "Death with Dignity"
An axiom of the Christian faith is that we do not own ourselves; rather, we are stewards charged with respecting our physical bodies. This principle recognizes God’s role in endowing us with personhood, and it properly subordinates our temporal nature to our innermost spiritual dignity. Christian’s respect for life from creation until natural death is rooted in this truth, and it is for this reason that no properly instructed Christian can, in good conscience, condone any act that violates our essential dignity. Washington’s assisted-suicide measure, overwhelmingly passed in the fall, does just this. Moreover it creates a terrible schism in society’s psyche that tolerates suicide in one sense but not another. Take for example the front-page story recently run in the Peninsula Daily News lauding Linda Fleming as the first woman to die with dignity. This story extolled her supposed bravery because she ended her pain and suffering, yet within a short period the paper ran a story along the same vein, which criticized the eighth street bridges for not being fitted with higher railings because they encourage people to jump. Of course supporters of “Death with Dignity” will point to the difference in circumstances, however, they cannot but admit that only the means differed and the end remained the same. To a well-informed conscience it is clear that suicide is an intrinsically selfish decision by which a person determines that their life is no longer valuable.
The lie that people accept is that their dignity will be preserved by their self-termination, yet, they do not recognize that this fundamentally undermines any moral defense of human value. If society condones death in one sense what is to preserve it in another, such as murder? What is to prevent doctors or other agents from determining that our lives are unworthy? This is a very real slippery slope that can only end in the continued desecration of a person’s value.
Perhaps the most insidious consequence of the assisted-suicide mindset is that it is the same belief that inspires countless dictators, despots and tyrants. It is the means by which they assert control and maintain the“purity” of their races. It is something that we, as Americans, have historically opposed, and our nation has sent hundreds of thousands to die in defense of that belief. Yet now, in the spirit of liberty, we have embraced the very evil we have fought to eradicate. It may not be as blatant as it was under the regimes of Slobodan Milošević or Adolph Hitler, but it is just as virulent and just as dangerous. By tacitly affirming the belief that some lives are unworthy or not valuable we reject the principles that this nation was founded upon and invite a silent holocaust. Liberty, which is the preeminent American value, can never be divorced from responsibility. As persons we must oppose anything that undermines our inherent dignity, and as voters we have a responsibility to ourselves and to future generations to repair the damage already done. True death with dignity is only possible if we properly acknowledge the gift that we have been endowed with: Life.
~Daniel Acheson
The lie that people accept is that their dignity will be preserved by their self-termination, yet, they do not recognize that this fundamentally undermines any moral defense of human value. If society condones death in one sense what is to preserve it in another, such as murder? What is to prevent doctors or other agents from determining that our lives are unworthy? This is a very real slippery slope that can only end in the continued desecration of a person’s value.
Perhaps the most insidious consequence of the assisted-suicide mindset is that it is the same belief that inspires countless dictators, despots and tyrants. It is the means by which they assert control and maintain the“purity” of their races. It is something that we, as Americans, have historically opposed, and our nation has sent hundreds of thousands to die in defense of that belief. Yet now, in the spirit of liberty, we have embraced the very evil we have fought to eradicate. It may not be as blatant as it was under the regimes of Slobodan Milošević or Adolph Hitler, but it is just as virulent and just as dangerous. By tacitly affirming the belief that some lives are unworthy or not valuable we reject the principles that this nation was founded upon and invite a silent holocaust. Liberty, which is the preeminent American value, can never be divorced from responsibility. As persons we must oppose anything that undermines our inherent dignity, and as voters we have a responsibility to ourselves and to future generations to repair the damage already done. True death with dignity is only possible if we properly acknowledge the gift that we have been endowed with: Life.
~Daniel Acheson
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