“Mary is the most beautiful flower ever seen in the spiritual world. It is by the power of God’s grace that from this barren and desolate earth there ever sprung up at all flowers of holiness and glory; and Mary is the Queen of them all. She is the Queen of spiritual flowers; and therefore, is called the Rose, for the rose is called of all flowers the most beautiful. But, moreover, she is the Mystical or Hidden Rose, for mystical means hidden.”
John Henry Newman
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I have been thinking a lot about different perceptions of reality lately, maybe even questioning my own quite heavily at times.
If you are a Christian, you might know that the Bible was quite tricky to translate. Translation is hard work. I did it a few times, and it was not easy, nope.
Just a hundred years ago, in World War I, the Bible was used by all sides to justify the conflict.
We sometimes battle with even people we love over the interpretation of reality that is in front of us, and we discuss it with the living witnesses, and we still disagree. We don’t need a thousands-year-old text for that.
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I read a verse from Daniel 3:25 in ‘The Image of Gold and the Blazing Furnace’ a number of times.
In this chapter, three Jews (named Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego) argue with King Nebuchadnezzar.
Conflicts in life are unavoidable; sometimes, you have to tell people the truth, looking into their eyes.
Nebuchadnezzar wanted them to worship the image of gold that he had created, just as he had kindly asked everyone else in his country.
It was an absolutely reasonable request in his eyes, and there was no reason for anyone to object unless they wanted to burn alive in the previously mentioned Blazing Furnace.
He asked them politely once again, very humbly, very unkingly, and they said no. He had no other option but to order ‘the furnace heated seven times hotter than usual‘ and have them ‘bound and thrown into the blazing furnace‘.
Sometimes, your conflict escalates, and you do not know what else to say. It is simply too hard to deal with the situation, and you must let it go. You know words will have no meaning, and you must distance yourself for everyone’s sake.
In this case, the decision was made firmly, so firmly that: ‘The king’s command was so urgent and the furnace so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego’.
Letting things go when you reach the end of patience, moving on and letting the past die can have drastic effects, and sometimes, some people in your life might disappear afterwards.
But what happened after amazed him. Well, it also amazes me because I read many different translations of the verse describing the resolution that gave me a little bit of a blurred description of the consequences of his actions:
English Standard Version
He answered and said, “But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.”
New King James Version
“Look!” he answered, “I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire; and they are not hurt, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.”
New American Standard Bible
He responded, “Look! I see four men untied and walking about in the middle of the fire unharmed, and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods!”
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An angel mystically saved them from scorching to death.
But calling him the son of God or a son of the gods changes the meaning of the situation a little, at least for me. Considering that everyone around there waited for the Messiah, this naming seems to be quite important for the plot of this book.
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Daniel 3:16 “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter.”
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Just like the three devout Jews, I might not have been most careful with my words with certain people in the recent times.
No angel arrived to save me, unfortunately.
There were grudges that rose within me, frustration that I did succumb to almost willingly.
I think the main reason why I said too many things to too many people, took actions into my own hands, and tried to see even justice was that when I felt utterly depressed between July and October this year, I read too much Nietzsche. I know how boring I am with my Nietzsche.
My dear good old Nietzsche claimed that revenge (well, in my case, it was seeking justice, but call it as you will – especially since this whole blog post is about different names of the same things): “demonstrate that we do not fear [them]: this constitutes the equalization, the restoration”.
I was seething alone a lot while being deeply sad for several months, so I wanted to find again my will to power. I also have a big mouth and not much filter, so I guess this was it for me.
My decision of how I see my reality is that Nietzsche is to blame for everything, not myself.
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“She was the only earthly love of my life, yet I never knew—nor ever learned—her name.”
Name of The Rose
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One day, my ex-therapist asked me what I would want from my life if there were no things here anymore that symbolise power to me: men and money.
What I described to her sounded very much like living in a monastery. I would love to devote myself to reading big, dusty books, wearing robes, and maybe doing some martial arts.
I’d live with my sisters, discuss Plato and fully embrace the other side of my bisexual tendencies.
Literally, the only obstacle I can see is that it would be harder to gossip without men because they give so easily so much material to cover, not because they are so interesting, but sheerly due to their pure audacity.
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When I think about monasteries, I think of Diablo II and Umberto Eco’s murder mystery novel The Name of the Rose.
The story is about a forbidden text and dangerous knowledge, and the will to kill to keep it hidden.
“Often a harmless book is like a seed that will blossom into a dangerous book, or it is the other way around: it is the sweet fruit of a bitter stem.”
Is the truth sweet or bitter, or both?
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In this novel, monk William of Baskerville and his young assistant Adso come to a monastery in Northern Italy to discuss whether priests should be poor or not. Once they arrive at their destination, they find a more exciting topic – someone is murdered over a Bad Book.
William and Adso circle around theology and murders, discovering that the quiet life of the monastery is nothing but an illusion.
People who were supposed to devote themselves to knowledge and prayer have hearts full of desire, and they are torn by the weakness of the flesh.
Several dead monks later, William, using the art of deduction, presents the truth – the book was the lost second half of Aristotle’s Poetics, which discusses the virtues of laughter.
The murderer feared that the book could bring about the poisonous seed and inspire Christians to laugh at God himself.
Doesn’t this sound a little underwhelming? I am pretty sure that when I read it for the first time as a teenager, I was hoping for something like a lost gospel about Jesus having a fiery affair with Pontius Pilate.
In the murderer’s mind, this text was nothing but damning. It couldn’t become the truth, it couldn’t affect the reality and open others’ eyes to the possibility of joy in Christian suffering.
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What about the title of the book? This is actually quite underwhelming, too.
Eco wasn’t sure what to choose for the title; it didn’t seem too important to him. Finally, he chose the rose “because the rose is a symbolic figure so rich in meanings that by now it hardly has any meaning left.”
The book’s last line is: “Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus“, meaning: “the rose of old remains only in its name; we possess naked names.“
What happened happened, we cannot change the past. We can name it in many ways, but the name belongs now to a dead thing.
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At the end of the day, maybe it all doesn’t matter. My homeland was recently under water, and my old lover told me recently that his city on the other side of the world was surrounded by fires. It is indisputable that our desires and arguments are forgotten once we are underwater and burnt to the bone.
Maybe all the situations we do not know how to deal with will evaporate and turn into smoke anyway, just like the library at the end of The Name of the Rose.
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As I mentioned, lately, I have decided to be more open about how I feel, and I am astonished at how much of “you are so wrong, but I am sorry you feel this way” I have been getting.
I question if those people who tell me that are right. Do I see the world so differently from them, or am I so biased by my past that all I think at this point is simply incorrect?
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In the scorching fire or in the flooding water, all hidden truths and unsaid words will perish and be forgotten. Is it right then to say what you think and live through the consequences, or is it better to stay silent and mysterious, like Holy Mary, who “was keeping within herself all these things, weighing and pondering them in her heart.“
Maybe she wanted to understand the real truth before speaking her mind, or maybe the truth was too horrifying to say out loud.
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Cavalcanti “Chi è questa che vèn, ch’ogn’om la mira”
Who is she who comes, whom all gaze upon,
Who makes the air around her shimmer with light,
And brings with her Love, so that no one can speak,
But only sighs in longing?
O God, what she seems when her eyes turn,
Let Love say, for I would not know how to describe it:
So full of humility does she appear,
That all others seem full of anger in comparison.
No one could recount her beauty,
For every noble virtue bows to her,
And beauty shows her as its goddess.
Our minds were never so elevated,
And there was never such health in us,
That we might properly know her.
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Angelus Silesius “The Cherubic Wanderer”
The rose is without why; it blooms because it blooms,
It cares not for itself, asks not if it is seen.
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PS. I am grateful to anyone who reads my stuff. I am much better now than in the last few months; I could even say I am happy. Writing is my way of processing what is going on in my head, and if you see yourself in my words—oh well, feel free to say back to me whatever makes your heart heavy. I honestly don’t think that Mother Mary is such a good role model in general.
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Zbigniew Herbert ‘Apollo and Marsyas’
Marsyas was flayed
his skin lies next to him
this is only the first part of the drama
in the second water fire air and earth
begin to speak
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PS2. And if, for some unimaginable reason, the described events remind you of yourself, know that while writing this, I have been thinking about at least five different people.
