Here’s an interesting multi-axis political quiz that scores you on social attitudes, economic beliefs, civil liberties, and war and peace. Mine seemed pretty accurate: I was a socially moderate/”social capitalist”/libertarian-pacifist.
Category: Personal
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A contemplative and Christocentric prayer
I’ve been trying to get back into the habit of praying the Rosary. For whatever reason, I’ve found that it’s a form of prayer that really speaks to my condition. Looking for some resources online I came across two I really liked: this sermon on praying the Rosary from Fr. Aidan Nichols, O.P. and this post from Br. Augustine Reisenauer, O.P.
(Also see my post, Can Protestants Pray the Rosary?)
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What I did on my winter vacation
I wanted to say something about my trip to Germany. I stayed in Berlin, in what was formerly part of East Berlin, a neighborhood called Prenzlauer Berg. Under communism it was a locus for dissidents and artists but is now almost indistinguishable from trendy yuppie neighborhoods in DC or about a dozen other cities I could think of. My college buddy Patrick has been working as a reporter over there for about 7 years, so he hosted me and gave me the grand tour.
Berlin’s a fascinating city for reasons almost too obvious to mention, with visible remnants of the imperial, Nazi, and Cold War eras intermingling alongside the modern post-1989 Berlin. Not far from the Reichstag there’s a sparkling new complex of ultra-contemporary glass and metal government buildings that spans the eastern and western parts of the city, symbolizing reunification and transparency in government. And capitalism has sprung up with a vengeance in what used to be the heart of socialist East Berlin; Communist-era apartment buildings house trendy shops and restaurants.
I spent my days on long meandering walks through the city, visiting churches and museums, gawking at Stalinist-era architecture on “Karl Marx Allee,” checking out the remnants of the Berlin Wall, eating a lot of surprisingly good Italian food, visiting the graves of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Hegel, and just trying to soak up the atmosphere. The nights were spent hanging out with Patrick and his motley assortment of ex-pat reporter friends (mostly Brits as it happens) and partaking liberally of the many fine beers Germany has to offer.
On my second to last day there Patrick and I took a day trip to Wittenberg (or Lutherstadt Wittenberg, to use the official name). Unlike Berlin, which has relatively few traces of the pre-modern era, downtown Wittenberg still looks like a medieval village with its windy cobblestone streets lined with shops and presided over by the Castle hurch. That’s where Luther nailed up the 95 theses (now immortalized in bronze on the church door) and where he and Philipp Melancthon are buried. We also saw St. Mary’s, the parish church where Luther preached and where the first Protestant service was held, and which is still, I’m happy to say, a functioning parish. See pics here. We then spent some time at the house Luther and Katie lived in, a former monastery, which now houses the world’s largest Reformation museum, containing neat Reformation-era artifacts like the robe Luther preached in and a copy of an indulgence.
I’ve been reading Alister McGrath’s recent book on Protestantism, and the differences he discusses between the iconoclastic Reformed protestants and the Lutherans are well-illustrated by Wittenberg. St. Mary’s church, far from being whitewashed and bereft of images like so many other Protestant churches were, still looks like a medieval church in a lot of ways. There is a beautiful altarpiece by Lucas Cranach illustrating the principles of the Lutheran reformation as well as other highly pictoral and symbolic art around the inside of the church. McGrath suggests that Reformed Christians might have felt the nead to “cleanse” the churches of their imagery not only because of a rigorist reading of the second commandment, but to break decisively with the catholic past. However, he says, the human urge and need to use images to depict the transcendent was too strong to be suppressed permanently. Luther seems to have recognized this with his affirmation of religious art and music as both catechetical tools and means for praising God.
The last six months have definitely been a spritual dry spell for me. Pracitces of daily devotion have gone out the window, I’ve missed church more times than I’d care to admit, and there have been at least one or two times when I’d seriously considered hanging up the whole business. But I did feel a connection being there at the birthplace of Protestantism, similar to what I’d felt at the catacombs in Rome a couple of years ago: a sense of being a link in a chain stretching back centuries. I’m not sure just feeling like part of a tradition is sufficient for the life of faith, but it’s something. And Luther himself was no stranger to doubt, after all.
Anyway, the best part of the whole trip, really, was just getting to spend a lot of time hanging out with an old friend, doing the things we used to do in college: talk about love and relationships, argue about politics, and joke around. Most of my longtime friends are scattered to the four winds these days and quality time is hard to come by. I’ve moved around a lot over the last 10 years and have found, unsurprisingly, that it can get really tough to maintain those close friendships. In college in particular you spend a lot of time with your friends, an experience it’s hard to replicate in the “real world.” (I’ve even heard it suggested that the reason people look back so fondly on college is because it’s the closest most of us come to the experience of living in primate packs, which is likely the kind of social environment we evolved in.) So it was nice to relive it a little bit, even if we’re all a bit older and wrinklier than we were then.
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I’m not dead yet
Sorry for the absence of posting over the last couple of weeks. Lest anyone thought I was stuck in the hooscow somewhere in the Netherlands, I did make it back safe and sound from Germany (which was awesome). Life has intervened in the meantime, though: I’ve started a new job, gone on retreat with people from church, and gotten sick all in the last two weeks, leaving little time for blogging.
I’m hoping to post a bit this weekend, so expect to see new content soon.
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Vegetarian homesick blues
I’d prepared myself for the fact that, while in Germany, I wouldn’t be able to adhere strictly to my vegetarianism. If Peter Singer can talk approvingly about a “Paris exception,” then surely I can invoke a “Berlin exception.”
As it happens though, when I was in Wittenberg today (about which more anon, perhaps) I ordered a turkey skewers dish which, while tasty, turned my stomach into painful knots. This alone is sufficient incentive to deter me from falling off the wagon in the future!
Tomorrow I fly back home and to real life.
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Holy pizza!
Today I went to a pizzeria near the Pergamon musem in Berlin called “Twelve Apostles.” Each pizza is named after one of the apostles: I recommend the Tomasso (Thomas). It has bell peppers, zucchini, onions, and hot peppers. Though my guidebook says that the Judas is possibly the most delectable.
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Note from Berlin
I’m blogging from my pal Patrick’s “flat” (as they say) in Prenzlauer Berg, a rather bohemian (but now rapidly gentrifying) part of old East Berlin. Lots of traipsing around over the last two days, mostly confined to the eastern part of the city so far.
One personal highlight so far was visiting Zion church, where Dietrich Bonhoeffer served as pastor before the Nazis came to power. It’s surprisingly dilapidated now, but also served as a locus for dissidents during the 80s under the GDR.
Wednesday I hope to make a mini-pilgrimage to Wittenberg, during which I will attempt to convert agnostic/cultural Catholic Patrick to the true faith. 😉
Berlin is a fascinating city: what other place can boast so many physical remnants of turbulent 20th century history?
Hopefully I’ll be able to post some pictures upon my return this weekend.
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The primary is closed (to me, anyway)
I registered independent here in DC partly because I figured the primary race would be essentially over by the time they got to us. Shows what I know. Not that I’m naive enough to think that a single vote could tip the contest, but the “Potomac primaries,” at least on the Dem side, aren’t totally irrelevant at this point. So, go vote tomorrow if you’re registered! 🙂
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Ash Wednesday ruminations
I managed to make it to church this afternoon for the service of Communion and the Imposition of Ashes. And it occurred to me that the cyclical nature of the liturgical year is a good way of driving home the Lutheran insight that we’re always beginning anew and always utterly dependent on God’s grace. In his explanation of baptism in his Small Catechism Luther writes:
[Baptism] signifies that the old creature in us with all sins and evil desires is to be drowned and die through daily contrition and repentance, and on the other hand that daily a new person is to come forth and rise up to live before God in righteousness and purity forever.
Characteristic of the Lutheran love of paradox, this is a fine encapsulation of the insight that we remain throughout our earthly lives sinners and saints at one and the same time (simul justus et peccator). Lutherans have traditionally been more skeptical than some other Christians of the prospects for a linear moral and spiritual progress. And yet, at the same time, we’ve already “arrived” in the sense that there is nothing we can add to what God has already given us. (Compare this to the Buddhist notion that we are at the same time already enlightened and yet woefully unaware of our own Buddha-nature.)
And if, as Luther says, we have to return to the source of our justification and repent of our sins daily, how much more is it true that at the beginning of Lent we should take stock of where we are and of how far short we fall. But this is also a heartening message if, like me, you find that you often don’t seem to be “progressing” in your spiritual life.
Without fail, every time I decide I’m going to “get serious” about my faith by forming habits of prayer and spiritual reading, or become “more intentional” about performing regular acts of charity, and other disciplines it’s only a matter of time before things start to fall off. Inevitably life seems to intrude and I just can’t seem to “make time” for these things. Of course, if I was honest I would recognize that the reason I can’t make time for them is because I don’t want to – I prioritize other things in my life.
But Lent is where we come around, once again, to that time in the Christian year where we’re brought face to face with our failings but also with God’s promise to be merciful and to draw us more fully into the divine life. It’s a potential fresh start every year, just as, for Luther, every day is a potential fresh start as we recall our baptism and try to live into it. At least, I hope that’s right, or else I’m sunk.