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Showing posts from December, 2012

REASON by CS Lewis

Set on the soul's acropolis the reason stands
A virgin, arm'd, commercing with celestial light,
And he who sins against her has defiled his own
Virginity: no cleansing makes his garment white;
So clear is reason.  But how dark, imagining,
Warm, dark, obscure and infinite, daughter of Night:
Dark is her brow, the beauty of her eyes with sleep
Is loaded, and her pains are long, and her delight.
Tempt not Athene.  Wound not in her fertile pains
Demeter, nor rebel against her mother-right.
Oh who will reconcile in me both maid and mother,
Who make in me a concord of the depth and height?
Who make imagination's dim exploring touch
Ever report the same as intellectual sight?
Then could I truly say, and not deceive,
Then wholly say, that I BELIEVE.

Midwinter Spring, Sempiternal Though Sodden

The syllabus for our final class today in Theological Aesthetics read "Wolterstorff and Conclusion."  I chose my warmest coat when I left my apartment this morning, but the exertion of my hurried pace made me uncomfortably warm as I rushed to class, exacerbated no doubt by the ebb and flow of anxiety about the four essay topics spinning my head.  Professor Hare arrived a few minutes late today, a first, and moved briskly through his final thoughts about Wolterstorff and unity, richness and intensity, as well as the fittingness of a work of art to the purpose of worship.  And then on to the "Conclusion" part, which we all hoped and expected would be a review for the final exam.

Professor Hare brought us back to Raphael's painting The School of Athens, in which Plato and Aristotle, the princes of philosophy, are pictured at center.  Plato points upward, Aristotle inward.  Plato indicates that the forms are beyond us, Aristotle that we find what we need by lookin…