< Back The ‘O Antiphons’ David Cowles “We are asking Christ to come… to teach us, rescue us, shine on us, free us and, repeated three times, to save us.” Can you imagine an Advent Season without the ‘O Antiphons’? If so, perhaps it’s because you don’t recognize them in the famous Christmas carol, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel ? At least since the 8 th century, these seven antiphons have been an important part of Roman Catholic liturgy. Each antiphon is built around a title given to the Messiah in the Old Testament. O Wisdom ( Sapentia ) of our God Most High, guiding creation with power and love: come to teach us the path to knowledge (understanding). The first antiphon captures the first three sefirot of the Kabbalah: Crown (Godhead), Wisdom and Understanding (knowledge). Christ (Logos) is the Wisdom (Sophia) of God. O Leader ( Adonai ) of the House of Israel, giver of the Law to Moses on Sinai: come to rescue us with your mighty power. This antiphon links three contrasting concepts: Leadership, Law, and Liberty (‘rescue’). While secular laws may be enslaving, God’s Law (Torah) is always liberating. It rescues us, not only from our enemies, foreign or domestic, material or spiritual, but it also frees us from ourselves…from our addictions, our attachments, our idols. Law is necessary, but it is never enough. Even after giving the Law to Moses, YHWH continued to govern the House of Israel directly through a sort of Constitutional Theocracy (The Book of Judges). O Root ( Radix ) of Jesse’s stem, sign of God’s love for all his people: come to save us without delay! Christ is descended from King David, but Christ is also the root from which David’s father, Jesse, sprang. True God and True Man, Christ fuses the temporal and the eternal, history and the Kingdom of God. Only Jesus can justly sing that ole country standard, “I am my own great-great-great Grandpa.” O Key ( Clavis ) of David, opening the gates of God’s eternal Kingdom: come and free the prisoners of darkness! We’re all living our lives in supermax. Our bodies are mortal, our minds are shrouded in impenetrable ignorance, and we are randomly subject to hideous physical and psychological torture at any time. O Radiant Dawn ( Oriens ), splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death. At the moment of conception, each of us is sentenced to death. Execution may take place immediately…or 100 years later…it depends on how good a lawyer you can afford. But in the final analysis, it doesn’t make much difference; we all end up in the same place eventually. It turns out that life is the shadow of death. O King ( Rex ) of all nations and keystone of the Church: come and save us humans whom you formed from dust. Christ is King, King of the Universe. All secular authority is a reflection of divine authority, and it is valid only so long as, and to the extent that, it projects Christ’s values into the world. Ideally, the Church is society reimagined, i.e., with Christ as its cornerstone. O Emmanuel ( Emmanuel ), our King and Giver of Law: come to save us, Lord our God. The O Antiphons are prayed along with Mary’s Magnificat on the seven days leading up to the Vigil of Christmas. Built around seven Messianic titles from the Old Testament, the antiphons take pains to connect those titles to the babe who is about to be born historically in Bethlehem and reborn eternally in liturgy. Interestingly, the first letters of the Messianic titles (in Latin, of course), E mmanuel, R ex, O riens, C lavis, R adix, A donai, S apientia—spell out ‘ERO CRAS’, meaning, "I will come tomorrow!" Were these antiphons the inspiration for Annie : “The sun will come out, tomorrow?” We must not get lost in the beauty of these antiphons; we need to remember that they are first and foremost prayers. We are asking Christ to come… to teach us, rescue us, shine on us, free us and, repeated three times, to save us. But as we pray, so we believe. T he O Antiphons embody a comprehensive theology: Sapentia connects the Power and Love of God with human Wisdom and Knowledge. Adonai celebrates the liberating Law of God given to Moses in the Sinai. Radix reveals Christ as the origin (root) and destiny of all things. Clavis reveals Christ as ‘keeper of the keys’: the key that unlocks our mortal prison and the key that opens the gates of heaven. Oriens reveals Christ as the ever-recurring and eternal Light that overcomes darkness. Rex pays tribute to Christ as Ruler of the World. Emmanuel sums it up. God is not just over us; God is with us. The Incarnation turns the Universe inside out. The whole becomes part of itself; therefore, the whole (God) is with all of us (fellow parts), individually as well as collectively. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . Return to Yuletide 2023 Previous Next

“John’s Utopia is a 20th century version of Friedrich Nietzsche’s flat universe.” < Back Imagine! David Cowles Sep 1, 2022 “John’s Utopia is a 20th century version of Friedrich Nietzsche’s flat universe.” In 1971 John Lennon, and his co-writer and life partner, Yoko Ono, exhorted us to ‘imagine there’s no heaven’; they assured us that ‘it’s easy if you try’. Ok, I’m imagining, or at least I’m trying to, but…it’s not all that easy. John’s Utopia is a 20 th century version of Friedrich Nietzsche’s flat universe . Listen to what Nietzsche had to say in 1888: “One belongs to the whole, one is in the whole – there exists nothing which could judge, measure, compare, condemn our being, for that would be to judge, measure, compare, condemn the whole…But nothing exists apart from the whole!” — Twilight of the Idols . Note that Nietzsche’s World explicitly lacks values : “There exists nothing which could judge, measure, compare, condemn our being.” In John’s words, there’s “nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too.” One thing you could say both of Nietzsche and of Lennon: They paved paradise and put up a parking lot . Their flat universe represents the hierarchical cosmos of Judeo-Christian tradition, squashed. Of all Western philosophers, Nietzsche’s vision is the most penetrating. He knew only too well that his flat universe would make any Halloween House of Horrors seem like a kiddie ride at Disney World, but that didn’t stop him. Whatever else you might say about Nietzsche, he had the courage of his convictions; he always philosophized in good faith. When Nietzsche pronounced his death sentence on Value (he had already done so on God), he did it with a heavy heart and a twinge of regret. He knew he was destroying a magnificent edifice…and he got no pleasure from it. When John Lennon did the same, he celebrated! Let’s unpack John’s lyrics: Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion too. Ok, nobody likes to think about killing or dying . Either way, it’s the ultimate sacrifice. But it may be that there are things you would kill or die for (at least you’d like to think you would), things you value more than you value your own life. By denying that possibility, John turns the world in on itself; it becomes Nietzsche’s ‘whole’. And religion? The function of religion is to identify things that someone might be willing to kill or die for, i.e., to identify values…and then to curate those values. We can’t have any of that, can we? So , no religion too . John’s message in Imagine is the same as Nietzsche’s. Live now, die later. We are our own highest value. This sounds benign enough, but it isn’t: If we have no values beyond ourselves, there is no reason for any of us not to head straight for those tempting Deadly Sins: Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath and Sloth. There’s even a combo pack, one of each vice; it’s what all the kids are asking for this year for The Holiday that Used to be Called Xmas , and it’s even on sale this month at Costco. Pick up a pack for me while you’re there. We’re often told that death is one of only two certainties in life. We will all die someday and if we are our own highest value, then our highest value (ourselves) will also cease to exist. But how can a value cease to exist? How can a value cease to be a value? By definition, values are universal, eternal and immutable. They apply, period, even in a Multiverse. Suppose we value Honesty. Ok, not everyone is honest; someone can be honest today and dishonest tomorrow. But even if everyone was dishonest all the time, it would not diminish the Value of Honesty. John & Yoko are taking us down into the Valley of the Shadow of Death (i.e., Nihilism) and at the same time they are depriving us of the Good Shepherd who was supposed to meet us there. How cocky we once were, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are by my side.” In other words, the Good Shepherd and I can handle anything life throws at us. Afraid of the valley? Heck no, I rule that valley! As long as I have my wingman with me, I’m good. The problem is that if there is nothing to kill or die for, then there can’t be anything to live for either. In Lennon’s universe, killing and/or dying can’t be the ultimate expression of value because per se they have no value. We are all going to die someday. In that sense, we are all the same; and we all come to the same end. We are all conceived ex minimis , and our future is a common, unmarked grave. And all that comes in between? According to Shakespeare, it will be “melted into air, into thin air… the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself…shall dissolve.” ( The Tempest , Act IV, Scene 1) We live “now (and) at the hour of our death.” We should all be prepared to give that a great Amen at any time. So ‘to be or not to be’ is not on the table. Our common fate is ‘to be and not to be’, and, as Hamlet realized, there’s nothing we can do to escape it. I am because I am writing this article and I am not because I will soon perish. Only values can give our fleeting lives meaning. The sense of purpose, anathema to Nietzsche, was celebrated by Victor Frankl, psychiatrist, philosopher, and Holocaust survivor. He replaced personal happiness as the goal of life with ‘purpose’, dedication to something outside oneself, i.e., dedication to Values. Not John Lennon’s favorite philosopher, I’m guessing. D avid Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. Share Previous Next Do you like what you just read? Subscribe today and receive sneak previews of Aletheia Today Magazine articles before they're published. Plus, you'll receive our quick-read, biweekly blog, Thoughts While Shaving. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! Click here. Return to Table of Contents, Winter 2023 Issue Return to Table of Contents, Holiday Issue Return to Table of Contents, Halloween Issue Return to Table of Contents, September Issue Return to Table of Contents, Beach Issue Return to Table of Contents, June Issue

“Nobody believes in Hell anymore…and that’s a good thing.” < Back Hell David Cowles Mar 1, 2023 “Nobody believes in Hell anymore…and that’s a good thing.” Nothing makes our post-Enlightenment hair bristle more than talk of Hell. Like a tween being threatened with corporal punishment, we cry out, “We’re too old for that!” And too wise and too sophisticated and too… Nobody believes in Hell anymore…and that’s a good thing. According to Sister Mary Therese (fourth grade), to be in Hell is to burn forever in unquenchable fire. Dante’s Inferno is a honeymoon destination compared to Sister’s version of the underworld. Today, people who believe in God frequently don’t believe in Hell precisely because they cannot imagine a merciful, loving God subjecting anyone, not even Adolf Hitler, to such a Draconian punishment. Color me in this group…at least on my best days. I’ve often wondered what happened to my fourth grade classmates. Did we split into two camps? On one side, those who retained a belief in God, but not in Hell, and on the other, those who retained a belief in Hell, but not in God, at least not in the compassionate, merciful Judeo-Christian God. Turns out, Sister Mary Therese was her own worst enemy. She taught an all too tangible Hell in hopes of reinforcing faith in a maddeningly intangible God. The strategy backfired, of course, big time! Either because we believe in God we can’t believe in Sister’s version of Hell, or because we believe in Hell, we can’t believe in a kind and just God. Imagine a ‘Pascal Matrix’ with four quadrants, i.e., four possible ‘solutions’: God/Hell, ~God/~Hell, ~God/Hell, God/~Hell. As with Pascal’s famous wager, the only solution that is a win for us is the fourth one (i.e., there is a compassionate, merciful God and therefore there is no fourth grade version of Hell). So we have only a one-in-four chance of ‘winning’, but fortunately for us, the payout is huge! Do the math: (.25 * 0) + (.25 * 0) + (.25 * 0) + (.25 * ∞) = ∞. I’ll play in that casino any day. Religious Ed for us (1955) was like watching a horror movie is for you. It scares you out of your wits but when it’s over you make yourself a snack and go to bed. The terror, though palpable, is too terrible to be real. We can’t accept that we live in a universe like that…and if it turns out that we do, then there’s nothing we can do about it and nothing that we do makes any difference or has any meaning anyway. The nightly news should keep you up, not ‘Chuckie’! Those of us who grew up in the ‘50s grew up in a forest of dos and don'ts. Water this tree…or else; don’t touch that tree…or else. Our forest was the Garden of Eden on steroids. No wonder we all related so easily to the story of Adam and Eve. We were living it. ‘Or else’ is the key. Everything came with an ‘or else’ attached. Kind of like a Canadian ‘eh’. Even if unspoken, ‘or else’ was presumed to complete every sentence…at least every sentence uttered in the Imperative Mood. Survival hinged on the ability to deconstruct the vague and all-inclusive ‘or else’. This was our introduction to inverse functions…at age five. The more Draconian the ‘or else’, the less we had to worry about it. “I’ll murder you, I’ll tar and feather you, I’ll boil you in oil, I’ll skin you alive” meant “pay some attention but don’t get carried away." On the other hand, when the ‘or else’ was some specific, finite, all too imaginable consequence, that was the time to be afraid, very afraid. Infinite consequences with infinitesimal probabilities do not motivate (or inhibit) behavior. Finite consequences with high probabilities do. Sister Mary Therese swung for the fences…and missed. How about people who don’t believe in God, or who ‘don’t know’, or who don’t care, or who don’t let ‘horror movies’ ( aka religion) spill over into their real lives ? Of course, they don’t believe in Hell; why would they? Or…why wouldn’t they? The 20 th century has given us many contemporary, secular versions of Hell. For Sartre and Beckett, Hell is people; for Ionesco and Camus, it’s absurdity; for Ibsen and O’Neill, it’s illusion;; for James Joyce, it’s history; for victims of the Holocaust, it’s the concentration camp. Another mainstay of Sister Mary Therese’s theology was her belief that the fate of one’s eternal soul was dependent on the ‘spiritual condition’ of the person at the moment of death: “Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death .” Since all of us ‘live in time’ and since we know that none of us will ever actually experience death (or know what it’s like to be dead), it requires no great leap to imagine that the content of our consciousness at the moment the external world pronounces us ‘dead’ is the version of who we are that will enter us into ‘eternity’. Sidebar : While it ‘requires no great leap’, it is not obvious either. By definition, ‘the hour of our death’ is a function of time; eternity, obviously, is not. Why should anything that happens in time carry over, intact, to eternity? Apples & oranges! In parochial school, we were taught to ‘pray for a happy death’; well and good. But that is not always something we can control. It is hard to imagine that a child immolated in a burning building, or a mother crushed to death under the rubble of an earthquake, had happy deaths. Are we prepared to consider that their agony at that moment might be who they are in eternity? Eternity is not infinite time (immortality), nor is it Σ T (the sum of all time); it is the utter absence of time! Therefore, it would not be a respecter of any temporal order. There is no reason why any single moment in a person’s life should be more ‘eternal’ than any other moment. To think otherwise is to succumb to the ‘tyranny of seriality’. Alternatively, perhaps only our ‘best moment’ is eternal; or perhaps every moment is eternal. Is eternity the foundation of time? Or is time the foundation of eternity? Is eternity time, evaporated? Or is time eternity, precipitated? Or all of the above? In my experience, people who have successfully kept the ‘God Concept’ out of their day-to-day lives, believe things like, “When it’s over, it’s over!” How ‘Yogi Berra’ of them! But like many of Yogi’s malapropisms, this may sound deep , but upon analysis, it doesn’t make sense . Applied to something like a baseball game, it’s perfectly OK to say, “It’s over.” And “When it’s over, it’s over,” is not wrong…just redundant. We can say it because we are outside it. We speak either as a fan or as a player in the locker room after the game. But life is not like a baseball game. It’s not a spectator sport. We are never outside our own life. We’re in it and, as Bill Clinton said, we’re in it ‘til the last dog dies. Absent of some mystical experience, we can’t stand outside it, and so we can’t ever meaningfully say, ‘It’s over ’. No one can say, “It’s over,” unless they do so from a vantage point outside of what is ‘over’. Applied to life, if you’re able to say, “It’s over,” then it can’t be over, can it? The act of saying ‘it’s over’ testifies to the fact that it’s not over, constitutes that fact that it’s not over, and ensures that it’s not over. Of course, I can say that another person’s life is ‘over’ provided I’m willing to reduce that life to the ontological status of a baseball game. Camus famously said that the only real philosophical question is the question of suicide. He sure knew his Hamlet …or did he? Even the Prince of Denmark realized that suicide was no solution. Suicide eliminates the future…but not the past that led up to it. Suicide vitiates the possibility, however remote, of a ‘happy death’. At the same time, it enshrines the circumstances that led to the suicide, and worse, it ensures that those circumstances can never be altered or transcended. To choose suicide is to embrace inanimate determinism; it is to make a fetish of the past: now the future is the past and the past is the future. We have exchanged the insecurity of the ever-widening gyre for the horrific impotence of a House of Mirrors. No wonder, then, that some Christians used to consider suicide to be an unforgivable sin; it is indeed a sin against the Holy Spirit, “the Lord, the Giver of Life” ( Nicaean Creed ). To paraphrase Dante, it is to ‘abandon all hope’. In the Church’s first millennium, various anti-Christian sects sought to eradicate this ‘novel heresy’ by demolishing its holy sites and building pagan temples over them to make sure that later generations of Christians would not be able to rebuild. Thank you! History owes a debt of gratitude to these iconoclasts. Their X marked the spot of those early Christian sites, thereby preserving them for millennia to come. In my experience, folks who profess Yogi’s Creed generally don’t accept the dire implications of their faith . Without resorting to ‘the God Hypothesis’, they nonetheless find ways not to accept the notion that Universe itself could be mercilessly cruel. Often, they will add some sort of qualifying proposition. Do any of these sound familiar? “I had a good life and nobody can take that away from me.” “I’m leaving the world a better place than I found it.” “I’ve helped other people live richer, happier lives.” Where’s Waldo? Can you locate the incipient eschatology in each of these statements? There is an implicit assumption that what I have done, or just experienced, endures in some way ‘beyond the hour of my death’. The impact I have had on the world and on other people’s lives is somehow meaningful and enduring. Of course, the Standard Model of Cosmology and the Second Law of Thermodynamics say otherwise! If Universe is a solo act and if, as we now believe, it comes from nothing and returns to nothing, and if there is nothing beside or beyond it, then none of these modifiers makes sense. We are uncomfortable in our skins. We desperately want to believe that Universe is what it is, that what you see is what you get, period. But we also want to believe that our lives are real, that they matter, and that they don’t cease to matter at the moment of death. Well and good, but we can’t have it both ways. Nietzsche boiled it down to what amounts to a simple syllogism: Meaning only happens when a signifier transcends that which it signifies (that’s what we mean by meaning ). But nothing transcends the world as we know it. Therefore, nothing has meaning. Nietzsche certainly had the courage of his convictions! I greatly admire his thinking, but I am not willing to sign on to his ‘Manifesto of Nihilism’, are you? Oddly, nihilism does permit the existence of Hell, though it needs to be defined as ‘Hell on earth’. Non-theism, including atheism, is not necessarily nihilistic. Far from it! Most non-theists seek to preserve meaning, i.e., transcendence, without the assumption of a transcendent being ( aka God). Theism, almost by definition, assumes that there is more to the world than its appearances, that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophies. Theists go even further; they assert that there is an actual being (i.e., God) that transcends the world as we know it. Assuming this being to be benevolent, and world-relevant, the Hell Hypothesis is ruled out. Here, many non-theists (provided they are not strict nihilists), converge in their thinking with most theists. Regardless of mechanism, Hell, the infinitely horrible, is precluded by any universe, theistic or otherwise, that contains even the slightest tilt toward the Good. Image: The Map of Hell painting by Botticelli is one of the extant ninety-two drawings that were originally included in the illustrated manuscript of Dante's Divine Comedy. Sandro Botticelli. Mid-1480s-mid-1490s David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . Return to our Spring 2023 Table of Contents Share Previous Next Click here. Do you like what you just read? Subscribe today and receive sneak previews of Aletheia Today Magazine articles before they're published. Plus, you'll receive our quick-read, biweekly blog, Thoughts While Shaving. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! 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Formal Christian Prayer is a cornucopia of spirituality. Yet in the Roman Catholic tradition at least, two prayers stand out: Jesus' prayer, the Our Father, and the Hail Mary (Ave Maria). < Back The Structure of Prayer David Cowles Jun 1, 2023 Formal Christian Prayer is a cornucopia of spirituality. Yet in the Roman Catholic tradition at least, two prayers stand out: Jesus' prayer, the Our Father, and the Hail Mary (Ave Maria). David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . Return to our Summer 2023 Table of Contents Previous Next Share Do you like what you just read? Subscribe today and receive sneak previews of Aletheia Today Magazine articles before they're published. Plus, you'll receive our quick-read, biweekly blog, Thoughts While Shaving. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! Click here. Return to Table of Contents, Winter 2023 Issue Return to Table of Contents, Holiday Issue Return to Table of Contents, Halloween Issue Return to Table of Contents, September Issue Return to Table of Contents, Beach Issue Return to the Table of Contents, June Issue

The Bible doesn’t tell us what John saw, but it does tell us that the breaking of the seventh seal was followed by half an hour of total silence. Why? < Back What Did John See? David Cowles Oct 15, 2022 The Bible doesn’t tell us what John saw, but it does tell us that the breaking of the seventh seal was followed by half an hour of total silence. Why? In the Christian tradition, the climax of cosmic history is the advent of the New Jerusalem, the triumph of the Kingdom of God. Paul said it best: “Then comes the end, when he (Christ) hands over the kingdom to his God and Father, when he has destroyed every sovereignty and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet . The last enemy to be destroyed is death…When everything is subjected to him, then the Son himself will be subjected to the one who subjected everything to him, so that God may be all in all .“ (I Cor. 15: 24 - 28) That’s the climax. But, of course, there are mini climaxes all along the way, events best described as the eruption of the eternal Kingdom of God into history. Just glance over at God’s ‘Highlights Reel:’ Creation Exodus Torah Incarnation Resurrection Ascension Pentecost Not too shabby! Is it too much to hope that some NFL team might draft God in the first round? I wonder if he needs an agent? The final book of the Christian Bible, The Book of Revelation (sometimes called Apocalypse ), is a book of climaxes . The ultimate cosmic climax comes in the final chapter (Rev. 22): “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end…I am surely coming soon. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” This is the climax, not of the Book of Revelation , but of all Scripture, of all history, of the universe itself; but the climax of Revelation itself comes much earlier (6:1 – 8:1) with the breaking of the seven seals. That is Revelation ’s pivot point. While John of Patmos (the self-proclaimed author of Revelation ) looks on, the Lamb (Christ) opens the seals. As each seal is broken, an aspect of reality is revealed: First Seal – Crown (authority) Second Seal – Sword (power) Third Seal – Scales (judgment) Fourth Seal – Death and Hades Fifth Seal – Martyrdom Sixth Seal – Cosmic Catastrophe John “watched (and listened) as the Lamb broke open” each seal in turn. Each seal brought new and terrifying sights and sounds: a voice like thunder, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, Death and Hell itself, the blood of martyrs. Then, with the breaking of the sixth seal, “there was a great earthquake, the sun turned as black and dark as sackcloth, and the whole moon became like blood. The stars in the sky fell to Earth like unripe figs shaken loose in a strong wind. Then the sky was divided, like a torn scroll…” But even this is still just preparation for the great event yet to come, the breaking of the seventh seal, the fulcrum on which Revelation balances. The first five chapters (Rev. 1 – 5) brought us up to the breaking of the seals. In Chapter Six, the first six seals were broken. Chapter Seven specifically prepares us for the climactic breaking of the seventh seal. No doubt, the breaking of the sixth seal is a tough act to follow. What can the Lamb possibly do for an encore? What do you think? What do you think happened when the seventh seal was broken? Write your own ending to cosmic history! Ok, spoiler alert , here goes: “When He (Christ/the Lamb) broke open the seventh seal, there was silence in Heaven for about a half an hour.” Not what you were expecting? We are told that John of Patmos ‘watched’ as each of the first six seals was broken, and his watchfulness was rewarded each time with a fantastic vision. Undoubtedly, John watched as the seventh seal was broken as well. The Bible doesn’t tell us what John saw, but it does tell us that the breaking of the seventh seal was followed by half an hour of total silence. Why? It is finished! The sound and the fury of life is spent. Now it is time to learn what, if anything, it signifies (Macbeth). The seventh seal is like the seventh day (Sabbath), the seventh year (Sabbatical), the seventh cycle of seven years (Jubilee). It inaugurates a period of life-affirming rest. (Imagine, a religion whose highest value is rest – Requiem Aeternam !) Silence speaks ‘louder’ than any ‘sound’ ever could. Revelation is not lacking in special effects. Normally, we experience sound against a background of silence; in Revelation, we experience silence against the cacophony of the Apocalypse. Silence becomes figure. Consider the final chorus ( Amen! ) of Handel’s great oratorio, Messiah . Midway through this varied but bombastic summation of the ‘greatest story ever told,’ the orchestra and the chorus suddenly fall silent and stay silent for several measures. This is the pivotal musical moment corresponding to the pivotal moment of salvation history in Revelation . The ’rest’ in Handel’s Amen! is one of the most profound moments in all of western music. Is this the effect John of Patmos was going for? Perhaps, but we have not yet answered the question, “What did John see ?” He saw something, even if that something was nothing (e.g., the abyss). Whatever John saw, it must not have been anything like what he was expecting. For 30 minutes he stared in silence. And he was not alone; his silence is echoed by the angels and saints attending the Lamb. Could it be that the seventh vision was so profoundly shocking that no one, human or angelic, could manage to eke out a single sound? So, shocking that long afterwards, recalling in tranquility all his visions, John still could find no words to express the seventh? What about you? What do you think John saw? In any event, with the breaking of the seventh seal, our story must be done. Nothing more than a short doxology could possibly be needed to bring the story of the Bible to its momentous close, right? Well, not according to John of Patmos. He needs 15 more chapters to get to “Amen! Come Lord Jesus!” (Rev. 22: 20) Whatever for? Not that these 15 chapters are boring…far from it! These are the chapters that casual readers usually think of when they think of Revelation . This is the time of trumpets, scrolls and bowls, the time of plagues and beasts, and even a dragon. It is the age of the Antichrist. Undoubtedly, these are the most violent 15 chapters in all of scripture. What can be going on here? To answer that , we’ll need to skip just a bit ahead, 1,750 years ahead that is. Prior to 1848, European revolutionaries believed that Utopia lay just behind the veil. Properly align the political (democracy) and economic (socialism) stars and Utopia will emerge almost immediately from the shadows, where it has been lingering for millennia, waiting to be born. This was the tacit assumption behind Enlightenment sociology. Do we still believe some version of this today? Karl Marx knew better. So did Engels and Lenin. They understood that Rome was neither built nor destroyed in a day. Political and economic asymmetry is deeply ingrained in our Atlantic culture. By the time Marx appeared on the scene, the euphoria of 1776 and 1789 was gone. The rosy optimism of Kant, Hegel, and the Utopians had been dimmed by the harsh realities of power politics . This was neither the bourgeois republic of Franklin, nor the ‘minimal state’ of the Bakunin. The United States was headed toward a civil war, partially fought to defend the institution of slavery, while France was still in the throes of a series of restored monarchies, self-proclaimed empires, revolutionary councils, and state organs of terror. Marx et al. saw that the anciene regime would not go away quietly. The founders of modern communism anticipated a tumultuous transition. They called it the Dictatorship of the Proletariat . Just as the Church was the vanguard of Christianity, so the party would be the vanguard of communism. Sidebar : We all know how that worked out, don’t we? The proletariat ended up being the object of the dictatorship rather than its subject. Being in the vanguard is never easy. Today, we rightly find fault with some of the church’s behavior. Well and good, but charity asks us to remember that other vanguards have fared no better. This insight of Karl Marx (1848) was shared by John of Patmos 1,750 years earlier. Living toward the end of the first century and/or at the beginning of the second, John did not have the luxury of hoping for a peaceful transition of power. He knew exactly how high a mountain needed to be climbed, and he knew that could not happen without blood and tears. But he never doubted that the world would get there eventually. A ragtag bunch of fishermen and itinerant preachers from Galilee, a section of the empire disdained both by Rome and by Jerusalem, would overcome the mightiest political, economic, and military power in the history of planet Earth. Of course! What else? Image: Matthias Gerung - Ottheinrich-Bibel, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Cgm 8010. Page 287r: John's Vision of Heaven, Revelation 4:1-11, 5:1-14. Public Domain. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com. 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< Back My PCP Should Be a BOT “Dr. Bot would handle patient in-take, conduct the initial interview…order appropriate tests, and offer a preliminary diagnosis…” David Cowles 1300 words, 6 minute read I like my PCP. She does her best, swimming against the tide of a dysfunctional healthcare system. And let’s be clear: if I had a serious medical condition, I’d want to be treated in the U.S. and nowhere else. So I have no time for yet another tear jerking expose of American healthcare! I mean, if that’s how you feel, don’t use it, and next time a loved one needs a complex medical procedure, feel free to head off to Canada, or the UK, or Sweden - wherever you think you’ll fare better; but as you travel, be careful not to bump into ‘medical tourists’ from those countries ‘sneaking’ across our borders to get their care in the U.S. Not your cup of tea after all? Then shut it! ( Full disclosure : I worked 40 years for a company I co-founded to provide comprehensive but affordable health benefits to employees of mid-sized U.S. businesses. So caveat lector .) That said, enough is enough! Prior to 2019, my personal interaction with the healthcare system consisted of an annual physical and a monthly prescription for a beta blocker. In the most recent 5 years, I have been admitted (overnight) to the hospital a half dozen times - incarcerated for a total of 40 days overall. Not fun! However, I was mainly well treated and the care I received was helpful, albeit minimal. Then I stubbed my left big toe. I’ve been stubbing my toes since the age of 3. Painful but no big deal! This time, however, I damaged the nail and after a week or so it was clear that the nail was coming off, whether I liked it or not. So I called my podiatrist…who could not see me for a month. No problem. I called my PCP and made an appointment for the next day. Her PA took one look at the toe and announced, “We can’t treat this here. You’ll need to go to Urgent Care (UC).” Not a problem either! I’m a strong believer in UC; it has served my family well in the past. This time, however, the two closest UC facilities were ‘booked solid’ and ‘not seeing walk-ins’ that day; so much for ‘urgent’. Plus I needed an X-ray and neither had X-ray capability on site. So my PCP sent me off to the ER…for a stubbed toe! Am I back in kindergarten? They took me in right away (glad for the revenue perhaps), but 5 hours later, I was still there. Following an X-ray, my ER Doc proudly announced, “Your right toe has a small fracture…which BTW we don’t need to treat.” Ok, but it was the left toe I stubbed! Hmm… In any event, I was sent on my way with a tetanus booster and an Rx for an antibiotic and a referral back to my Podiatrist who suddenly found he could ‘fit me in’ after all. So, all is well, right? Not even a little bit! In a country where some folks have virtually no access to healthcare, I unintentionally and unnecessarily consumed thousands of dollars’ worth…for a stubbed toe. Plus, during my week-long ordeal, I noticed that my docs were more interested in ‘ruling out what isn’t’ than they were in ‘treating what is’. They were running through a check list; they were practicing defensive medicine. They weren’t really looking at my toe…or listening to me ! So how can the system be made better? Begin by transitioning healthcare generalists (PCPs, Pediatricians, Family Doctors) from their current ‘front line’ positions to an ‘oversight’ role. Most current PCP functions could be the responsibility of a new uber-doc, AI Bot, MD, first in its class at Harvard Med. Dr. Bot would handle patient in-take, conduct the initial interview, download my electronic health record, build my medical history, order appropriate tests. Here too, AI can help. UCLA scientists have developed a single, simple, cost-effective blood test that promises to detect multiple cancers, organ abnormalities, and various liver conditions, all at once! ( Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences ) Researchers analyzed blood samples from 1,061 people, including patients with liver, lung, ovarian and stomach cancers; individuals with liver diseases such as hepatitis B, hepatitis C, alcohol-related liver disease and metabolic-associated liver disease; people with benign lung nodules; and healthy participants (control group). AI algorithms were then applied to analyze the complex data. For multi-cancer detection , the test achieved a high level of overall accuracy. With fewer than 2% false positives, it detected about 63% of cancers across all stages and roughly 55% of early-stage cancers. The test also performed well among high-risk individuals with liver cirrhosis or HBV, detecting nearly 80% of cases with a less than 10% false positive rate. Armed with these results, my PCP Bot can now deliver a preliminary diagnosis along with any alternatives that ‘we can’t rule out’ to my physician manager (not a Bot, BTW). Each diagnosis would come with a full complement of treatment options, including the ‘null option’, along with risks and prognoses associated with each option. This sounds good…but can AI First Medicine work IRL? Turns out, it can and it does. On February 10, 2026, the University of Cambridge (UK) reported the following: “Researchers…analyzed heart sounds from nearly 1,800 patients using an AI algorithm trained to recognize valve disease, a condition that often goes undiagnosed until it becomes life-threatening. “ Valvular heart disease affects more than half of people over the age of 65, with around one in ten having significant disease. In its early stages, it is often symptom-free. ‘By the time advanced symptoms develop, the risk of death can be as high as 80% within two years if untreated’, said co-author Professor Rick Steeds from University Hospitals Birmingham. “The AI correctly identified 98% of patients with severe aortic stenosis , the most common form of valve disease requiring surgery, and 94% of those with severe mitral regurgitation. When tested against 14 GPs who listened to the same recordings, the algorithm outperformed every one of them and did so consistently. So what does this change accomplish? We have ensured that each patient and PCP get to see the full playing field of potential diagnoses and treatment options. We have massively boosted the productivity of every PCP, allowing them to spend more quality time with each patient and allowing us to increase their compensation. We have empowered doctors to do more MD-level work. On top of that, we will save massive amounts of money by getting more diagnoses right the first time, by reducing the number of false positives, and by cutting back on care wasted treating misdiagnosed conditions. ( Note : 20 – 30% of all the care delivered in the US today is not appropriate for the patient’s actual condition.) And last but by no means least, we will deliver better patient outcomes…much better…resulting in a generally healthier population! As you can see, we are not talking about incremental improvement here. We are talking about a cascade of positive, mutually reinforcing, socio-economic impacts: a lower average cost per unit of care, a healthier public, less productivity loss (fewer sick days), more efficient delivery of more effective treatments, and better MD working conditions. But this future depends on our willingness to integrate Dr. Bot into our practices. Once upon a time only carbon based ‘white men’ were doctors; we fixed that! Now we need to add silicon based ‘AI Bots’ to our treatment teams…and we need to do so yesterday! *** Image: "The Doctor," oil on canvas by Luke Fildes, 1891. Located at the Tate Gallery in London. Share Previous Next

< Back Age is an Algorithm David Cowles “We systematically suppress our actual experience and replace it with whatever it is we think we are supposed to experience, and we call that reality.” “Yesterday, my neighbor’s ‘12-year-old boy’ headed off to college and his ‘six-year-old baby sister’ started middle school. What’s going on here? I feel as though I turned once around, clicked my heels, and poof, the whole world changed overnight.” This may be how it seems to you, but of course, you don’t take seeming seriously. You’re educated; you know that Time is something you measure by uniform ticks of a clock (or oscillations of an EM particle). Any other way of looking at Time is childish… or a flashback to that famous acid trip you took in the ‘60s. So, here as elsewhere, we systematically suppress our actual experience ( seeming ) and replace it with what we are supposed to experience ( knowing ), and we call that reality! Of course, this has dire consequences: Constantly having to reject one’s own experience in favor of the manufactured collective experience of society leads to a loss of self-esteem; why can’t I see what others see? Too late, you realize that those others don’t actually see what they pretend to see either. We’re all gazing at the wall and cooing back and forth about the beauty of the mural painted on it…but none of us actually sees anything other than a bare wall. Asked, “And what do you think?” we spew out the same babble that we were given, thus reinforcing the consensus of the unreal . By subsuming our real experience to the imaginary collective experience of our culture, we make it just that much harder for others to honor their own experience. You should have stood your ground. While you were turning around once and clicking your heels, the world was changing…massively! Is this myth or magic? Neither…it’s math! Let’s keep it simple: I am 75, and I have a 15-year-old grandson. 5 years ago, I was 70 and he was 10. In the ensuing 5 years, I aged just over 7% (75/70) while my grandson aged exactly 50% (15/10). During that period, my grandson aged 7x more than I did. Conversely, time flowed 7x faster for me than for my grandson. No wonder he’s bored, and I can’t find enough hours in the day. Check it out: So, Time is passing 7x faster for me than it is for my grandson! My week is his day! The idea that everyone is moving through Time at the same rate is based on a long abandoned view of Time as absolute, objective reality. Einstein was the first to show that Time’s ‘flow rate’ is relative , i.e., relative to motion. What I’m suggesting goes way beyond Einstein and does not require relative motion. If we are to be true to phenomenal experience itself, we must begin our inquiry with our subjective experience of Time: how fast is Time flowing for me at my age? We have learned to self-censor. We nudge ourselves to conform our perceptions to the expectations of others. No one wants to admit that she is the only one who doesn’t know who the emperor’s wearing on the red carpet this season. It is no wonder then that we don’t seem to be making much progress, metaphysically speaking. We’ve suppressed the World we’re here to read (Joyce) and replaced it with a stripped down, Cliff Notes version that mainly reflects the ‘wisdom’ of Plato, Euclid and Newton, RIP. Today, virtually all intellectual inquiry takes place in a collectively designed, artificial universe. “They’ve paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.” (Joni Mitchell) All our reasoning is therefore self-referential. We define a world a priori ; then we deduce certain theorems regarding that world. Finally, we attempt to use those same theorems to prove that the world we defined actually exists. Neat…circular…useless! Everything we do, we do with curated data and circular models. My grandest philosophical edifices amount to nothing more than “ice cream castles in the air.” (Judy Collins) We need to hit Refresh and return to Ground Zero, i.e., raw, minimally processed, subjective experience. Like a gourmand undertaking a ‘cleanse’, we need to get back on a diet of fruit and uncooked vegetables. Collectively, we must begin paying attention to our actual experiences instead of the pre-digested pseudo-experiences served-up to us at home, in school, on the job, and through the media. We must undertake a thorough epistemological self-examination: what do we believe, and why do we believe it? And we need to discard whatever is not ultimately grounded in actual experience, especially if it is inconsistent with that experience. Meanwhile, you can run the Age Algorithm™ for yourself. Fact : Time flows at different rates for people of different ages. You can use the Age Algorithm™ to calculate the relative rate of flow for any two people at any two (different) ages. You can even use it to compare Time’s flow for you at different periods of your own life: Example : you are 50 and your youngest daughter is 10. One year equals 2% of your life span, but that same year equals 10% of hers. Time flows 5x faster for you than for her. Resolved : From now on, I will ground all my philosophical inquiries in my own (subjective) experience. I will battle groupthink wherever I find it! Will you join me? Keep the conversation going! 1. Click here to comment on this TWS. 2. To subscribe (at no cost) to TWS and ATM, follow this link . 3. We encourage new articles and reprints from freelance writers ; click here to view out Writers’ Specs. 4. Aletheia Today Magazine (ATM) will be devoting its entire fall issue (released 9/1/23) to artificial intelligence (AI). What are the philosophical, theological, cultural and even spiritual implications of AI powered world? If you’d like to contribute to the AI Issue, click here . Previous Next

< Back Consultants Wanted-Join Our Team Nov 29, 2022 Our goal: Heal the World! Our strategy: Think differently! Our tactic: Point! We don’t teach, debate, argue, or persuade; we just point. We show the world as it really is, not as it’s been pre-packaged for us on Madison Avenue, in Harvard Square, and by Hollywood. We point, and we rely on the world to do the rest. Check us out: www.aletheiatoday.com . “We’d all love to change the world.” (The Beatles) You can! If you have mad skills in any of these areas, join us: Branding, Social Media, Data Analytics, Curriculum Development (for secondary schools), Revenue Generation (advertising and/or ecommerce), Website Enhancement . Aletheia Today™ (AT) publishes Aletheia Today Magazine™ (ATM) 8 times a year and Thoughts While Shaving™ (TWS) twice-weekly, both online. We foster the ongoing convergence of science, philosophy, theology, culture, and spirituality in the 21st century. Do you share our commitment to promoting intellectual convergence in our increasingly fragmented world? Join us! Pay: As we are growing, compensation will necessarily be modest. So, we welcome consultants looking for a side hustle to their regular day job and are open to pay negotiation. Still interested? Sendus a short note telling us why you might want to join our team and what specific skills you would bring to our enterprise. PLEASE, NO RESUMEES. Email us at editor@aletheiatoday.com . Previous Share Next Do you like what you just read and want to read more Thoughts? Subscribe today for free! Thoughts While Shaving - the official blog of Aletheia Today Magazine. Click here.

< Back Growing Into Pentecost James Bratt "In any case, Pentecost turns out to be a big deal after all. Reformed folk can join with those claiming to be a “full-gospel church”—maybe even remind the others of some overlooked elements in that mix." When I was a kid, I never got the big deal about Pentecost. For one, it didn’t come along with any special songs or meals. Compare that to Easter, where you could get both of those in one package: “ Low in the Gravy Lay .” Actually, you didn’t really want the gravy my mom served with her Easter ham dinner, although we offset that salt-special with her lime jello concoction that combined all four food groups: pear chunks, shredded carrots, chopped walnuts, and a Kool-Whip topping for your bit of dairy. If it was Aunt Jen’s turn to host the extended-family gathering, you could count on treats my parents tried to avoid for the sake of dental bills, hyper-activity, and uncomfortable fertility symbolism: chocolate eggs, marshmallow chicks, and unlimited jelly beans. For Christmas, of course, we had several family reunions, with jello (there’s a pattern here), chips, and pigs-in-the-blanket sure to pop up along the way. Plus carols at church and home, gift exchanges, and enough sentiment stirred up to suffuse the heart against all pain and doubt. Weird and Discomfiting But Pentecost? Nuthin’ . No canonical hymns, no special dinner (except your beef roast and mashed potatoes were always special, Mom), no family gatherings, only weirdness topped by discomfiting admonitions. The weirdness lay with those tongues of fire and mighty wind. Hey, springtime in Michigan is tornado weather, so ixnay on the turbulent atmosphere already! The Sunday School pictures of bearded, berobed guys whose heads were suffering from mis-directed charcoal lighter inspired distaste rather than the tears evoked by Baby Jesus or the awe attending the Risen Lord. Plus one heard rumors of crazy people who used Pentecost as a label, “holy rollers” who handled snakes and claimed, against all reason and scientific evidence, that they could perform miraculous healings. Not that we Dutch Reformed types denied miracles—just that you shouldn’t bet on them or have the audacity to command God to deliver them on cue. Or really expect one for yourself. As for the discomfiting admonitions, well, the Pentecost sermon was bound to urge us to go out and “witness,” which to me meant cold-calling strangers door-to-door or confronting random persons on the street and asking them where they would be spending eternity if they died tonight. Christian Reformed people tended not to be very good at that, and—it still seems to me—for very good reason. Nor did I yet know Mark Twain’s response to that question: “I’ll take heaven for the climate and hell for the company.” Why does that advice seem so apropos today? Junior Partner/Tag-Along Child? The biggest problem with Pentecost, however, seemed to be that there just wasn’t much for the Holy Spirit to do. I mean, how did this guy merit inclusion in the Trinity along with the Father and the Son, who obviously carried out some pretty heavy lifting? Wasn’t the Trinity really a 2+-ity, the alleged Third Person really qualifying as a junior partner, something like the trailing child born to a couple who thought they were done after #2? After all, the Spirit gets only one Q&A in the Heidelberg Catechism while the Father gets three and the Son twenty-four! And however rich the answer to Q&A 53 may be, what I took out of catechism class was that the Holy Spirit had just two jobs: to comfort us when sad and to inspire the writers of the Bible so that their texts were infallible. That is, all those unpredictable, unsettling actions hovering around the Holy Spirit package were stripped away so that God was back in the box of words bound within black-leather covers. Back in the text. Our sure and perfect text-box. Calvin–Theologian of the Holy Spirit? People my age and of similar background have told me they learned it very differently, so part—much?—of my truncated understanding probably reflects bad reception rather than bad teaching. In any case, my real education on the point has come in three parts. It began in grad school when I dove into The Spirit of the Reformed Tradition by Eugene Osterhaven, late professor of theology at Western Theological Seminary. I was astounded to come across a line describing John Calvin as a—perhaps the premier—theologian of the Holy Spirit. And to see that characterization attributed to B. B. Warfield of all people, co-inventor of the theory of biblical inerrancy. But as I read on, there and in other sources, of Calvin’s teaching about the testimony of the Holy Spirit—the action that transforms the dead page of scripture into the living word of God in our hearts—various old doubts and conundrums in my head began to be resolved, and the Third Person took on a richer role, something of a mentor and companion. Not a miracle-worker, maybe, although keeping me from behaving down to my worst level might sometimes be miracle enough. Kuyper, too? Things got richer yet in doing research for my biography of Abraham Kuyper. In his Work of the Holy Spirit (1888-89; E.T. 1956) Kuyper ties the Spirit’s role closely to his own favorite themes of creation and culture. Out of the chaos attending the human fall into sin the Spirit has been, is, and unto the end of time shall remain busy bringing out a new creation that will finally sing perfect praises to its Maker, as was the divine intention in the first place. Meanwhile, Kuyper continued, all along the Spirit has been bringing forth the first notes and sounding forth the big themes of that grand symphony. Included here are the well-known tasks of working sanctification among the saints—more accurately, conveying Christ’s perfections to them—as well as inspiring the Scriptures, conceiving the person of Christ, and building the church as Christ’s representative on earth. But the Spirit’s sweep goes far beyond the elect and the familiar tropes of redemption, Kuyper insisted. Every human gift, every talent, every good work is the Spirit’s work. The vocation of every person, redeemed or not, and the “genius” of every nation are the Spirit’s gift. The “work of the Holy Spirit,” Kuyper even said, “touches every creature, whether animate and inanimate”—those butterflies and bears and rocks and trees and skies and seas are charismatic that way. Nor is the Spirit’s work in creation a once and done affair; it is still active today, “quickening and sustaining life” in every creature’s “being and talents.” (E.T. 45-46) This Incredibly Benevolent Force All these reflections were called back up but also re-set when I recently read This Incredibly Benevolent Force: The Holy Spirit in Reformed Theology and Spirituality (Eerdmans 2018), the published version of the 2014 Warfield Lectures given at Princeton Theological Seminary by my friend Cornelis van der Kooi. As a professor at the Free University in Amsterdam, Kees stands literally in Kuyper’s line; but with additional duties as director of the Center for Evangelical and Reformation Theology there, he has also taken on the role of being a critical friend of the ongoing charismatic movement, both at home and abroad. Cornelius “Kees” van der Kooi Kees trims back some of Kuyper’s enthusiasms; the master was too enamored of secularization and technology, as well as dualistic as to spiritual-material distinctions. At the same time, This Incredibly Benevolent Force is a tour de force on the state of play between Logos and Spirit Christology, bringing Christ down out of the clouds of Greek philosophical abstraction into the living, learning, suffering, and finally triumphant life of Jesus. It is the Spirit who made and makes him Emanuel, the one who is “with us”—and for us. At the same time, it is the Spirit that bears the love of God into the unfathomably far reaches of a cosmos that would otherwise remain a blank space, the big empty. From down here to the farthest out there, the Spirit is active, inviting us indeed to bear witness to the wonderful works of God. To me that “witness” means mostly watching and living accordingly, using words, á la St. Francis, only when necessary. In any case, Pentecost turns out to be a big deal after all. Reformed folk can join with those claiming to be a “full-gospel church”—maybe even remind the others of some overlooked elements in that mix. I’ll pass on the charcoal lighter and snakes, though; just settle for a decent meal. Hmmm, maybe some bread and wine. This piece is republished with permission from the author. It was originally published on Reformed Journal . James Bratt is professor of history emeritus at Calvin College, specializing in American religious history and especially the connections between religion and politics. Starting in Fall 2016 he took a break from blogging on The Twelve to teach in China and on the Semester at Sea, which venues afforded him some welcome distance from the USA’s descent into its current mortal illness. But now he’s back in the States, looking for hope. His most recent book (which he edited and completed for the late John Woolverton) is “A Christian and a Democrat”: Religion in the Life and Leadership of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Return to our Holy Days 2023 Table of Contents, Previous Next

< Back Yesterday, the Very Tomorrow Annie D. Stutley Sometimes the very words we need to hear come from the most unlikely sources. Wisdom isn’t reserved for great philosophers, theologians, or grandparents alone. We’re still not sure what the phrase actually meant at its origin. The words are entirely contradictory. Does it mean yesterday? Tomorrow? Maybe a long-winded version of today? Or was he aiming for the day after tomorrow, but couldn’t wrap his child brain around the proper words to get there? We may never know. The Golden Boy was somewhere around three-years-old when he first spoke the words to us: “Yesterday, the very tomorrow…” He was referring to a trip to the park in search of turtles. “And yesterday, the very tomorrow I saw five turtles!” What an unusual description of time. It must mean yesterday... But then the next day he said, “Yesterday, the very tomorrow, can we watch the train pass by?” So he means tomorrow.... It was so marvelously complex that I never corrected him. “No, baby. It’s either tomorrow or yesterday. They imply two different days,” is something I would never have said. The cuteness of saying things the ‘wrong’ way was as precious to me as first laughs and watching my fifteen-month-old slowly pump her chubby little legs to Janet Jackson. The innocence is fleeting. The inhibition vanishes in the blink of an eye. “Yesterday, the very tomorrow” is an oxymoron, but it’s also brilliant. My child said it when the world and the way things function were just beginning to churn to life around him. His time here was about to pop open and “yesterday, the very tomorrow” is how he measured it. He continued to switch up its usage until eventually my husband and I, befuddled by this most remarkable phrase, stopped translating. It was cute. It was perfectly Golden Boy to be so excited, so anxious about his yesterday, today, and tomorrow that he couldn’t bear to separate his fascinating life into pieces. I took it to mean we’d done something right and left it alone. He said those words for years, eventually dropping them around the time he got to school. A teacher probably corrected him. I don’t fault her. Eventually he’d have to explain time normally. He couldn’t write a paper about Charlotte’s Web and get away with “...and yesterday, the very tomorrow, Charlotte spun a web for Wilbur so that Mr. Zuckerman wouldn’t eat him.” That simply wouldn’t have worked. His cuteness would have to be curbed for practical reasons. Now he says yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and we never have to question what he means. But “yesterday, the very tomorrow” is permanently lodged in our family lexicon. We say it jokingly on road trips. “Are we there yet?” the kids whine. “We’ll get there yesterday, the very tomorrow,” my husband and I answer. Other times, I taunt the boy with his own words. “Mom, when are you gonna pay me for my chores?” he’ll pester me. “Yesterday, the very tomorrow,” I’ll wickedly grin back. But beyond family lore and excuses to mess with my children, “yesterday, the very tomorrow” has legs. It could encompass myriad meanings and symbolize all sorts of virtues. I’ve chewed on the cleverness of the word play so much that I have several ideas of how to use it, like an alternative to “seize the day.” Why wait until tomorrow? Yesterday will be here before you know it. The time to be bold is now! Or, it could also be the new “tomorrow is another day.” Yesterday might have been terrible, but tomorrow is near. Don’t give up! It’s perfectly contradictory. And I love it for all that its strangeness is able to insinuate. What a beautiful way to describe a great love, for example. I loved you yesterday, the very tomorrow -- I loved you all the days all at once. Doesn’t that bubble up all the best feels? The phrase can also capture the seriousness of our time here. Life is yesterday, the very tomorrow. We are the choices we’ve made and the choices we’ve yet to make. It’s both beautiful and terrifying, innocent and wise. And it came from the lips of a three-year-old, thirsty for more turtle sightings. More than anything, I think “yesterday, the very tomorrow” is a reminder. Sometimes the very words we need to hear come from the most unlikely sources. Wisdom isn’t reserved for great philosophers, theologians, or grandparents alone. Experience is useful, but also a mere prediction. We can’t always find the answers to our riddles on the pages of Google or from a vetted article on social media. Pinterest won’t always nail it either. Man is no wiser than woman, just as woman is no smarter than man. One color has no more a leg up in the afterlife than the next. No party is less flawed than the other. Our weight is equal in the eyes of the magnificence that planted us here. So why, then, must we toy with one another’s value when the answers lay in all of us? We were here yesterday, the very tomorrow. We will be here yesterday, the very tomorrow. We are present together. All at once, in the past, and in the future. If you don’t understand the fragility of one another, of life, of time, of all things, just ask a three-year-old. He’ll explain it. Or she will. It doesn’t really matter who. Just be present for it. I know enough to know that regardless “yesterday, the very tomorrow” is close to the present if nothing else -- right there on the brink of our now. Some days it feels like time is running out. Other days feel like the past will never end. Maybe to be present, open, and ready to receive all we’ve ever wanted, we just need to change things up -- our actions, our thoughts, and, perhaps most of all, our words. Annie D. Stutley lives and writes in New Orleans, La. She edits several small publications and contributes to various print and online magazines. Her blog, " That Time You, " was ranked in the Top 100 Blogs by FeedSpot. To read more of her work, go to her website , or follow her at @anniedstutley or Annie D. Stutley-writer on Facebook. Previous Next

< Back Ruth Embraced Resilience and Found Redemption Rebecca Moss "Ruth demonstrates how resilience can reward us, showing that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope to be found for those who refuse to yield to despair." The Book of Ruth, nestled within the Old Testament scriptures, offers a profound narrative that transcends centuries, weaving together themes of resilience, loyalty, and divine providence. Through a closer examination of Ruth's journey, we unearth invaluable insights that resonate deeply with individuals grappling with adversity and uncertainty in the present day. Ruth's story begins with a backdrop of loss and hardship. Following the deaths of her husband and father-in-law, she finds herself at a crossroads, faced with the daunting task of rebuilding her life amidst profound grief. Despite the allure of returning to her homeland, Ruth chooses to accompany her mother-in-law, Naomi, back to Bethlehem, demonstrating a remarkable display of loyalty and devotion. The poignant words of Ruth to Naomi encapsulate her unwavering commitment: "Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God" (Ruth 1:16). This declaration of loyalty, uttered amidst the desolation of loss, serves as a testament to Ruth's steadfast character and unwavering faith. Upon their arrival in Bethlehem, Ruth's resilience is put to the test as she seeks to provide for herself and Naomi. With humility and determination, she gleans in the fields, gathering leftover grain to sustain them through the harvest season. Ruth's willingness to embrace the humble task of gleaning reflects her resilience and tenacity in the face of adversity. It is in these fields of Boaz, a relative of Naomi, that Ruth's fortunes take a remarkable turn. Boaz, moved by Ruth's virtuous character and diligence, extends his protection and favor to her, ensuring that she may glean safely and abundantly. Ruth's encounter with Boaz is marked by a sense of divine providence, as she finds favor in his eyes and experiences unexpected blessings amidst her toil. The words of Boaz to Ruth encapsulate his admiration for her character: "May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge" (Ruth 2:12). Boaz's recognition of Ruth's integrity and faithfulness serves as a pivotal moment in her journey toward redemption and restoration. As the story unfolds, we witness Ruth's courage and resilience in the face of uncertainty. Through her unwavering faith and determination, she navigates the complexities of her circumstances, ultimately finding refuge and belonging in the community of Bethlehem. The culmination of Ruth's journey is marked by her union with Boaz, a union that symbolizes redemption and restoration on multiple levels. Through her marriage to Boaz, Ruth is not only elevated from her status as a foreign widow but also becomes a vital link in the lineage of King David and, ultimately, Jesus Christ. The words of the women of Bethlehem to Naomi upon the birth of Ruth's son encapsulate the profound significance of Ruth's journey: "Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age" (Ruth 4:14-15). Ruth's story is alive with the magnitude of resilience, loyalty, and faith in the face of adversity. Ruth’s story offers a timeless message of hope and redemption to individuals navigating their own trials and tribulations. Through Ruth's journey, we see the rewards of loyalty, resilience, and we see divine providence. Throughout her story, we encounter profound lessons about the importance of community and the value of steadfastness in the face of adversity. Despite facing seemingly insurmountable challenges, Ruth's unwavering loyalty to Naomi and her commitment to providing for their welfare displays the kind of selflessness and compassion we are called to give. In a world marked by shifting alliances and fleeting loyalties, Ruth's steadfast devotion stands as an example of the enduring strength found in genuine relationships. Furthermore, Ruth's journey is marked by unexpected twists and turns, underscoring the unpredictable nature of life and the importance of remaining open to divine providence. Despite the uncertainty that accompanies her every step, Ruth approaches each challenge with unwavering faith, trusting in the guiding hand of a benevolent God. Her willingness to embrace the unknown and surrender to a higher purpose reminds us of the transformative potential found in relinquishing control and placing our trust in God. Moreover, Ruth's story highlights the significance of perseverance and resilience in the face of adversity. Despite facing numerous obstacles along her journey, including poverty, loss, and social marginalization, Ruth refuses to succumb to despair or resignation. Instead, she meets each challenge with unwavering resolve, drawing strength from her innermost convictions and pressing forward with determination. In doing so, Ruth demonstrates how resilience can reward us, showing that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope to be found for those who refuse to yield to despair. Finally, in addition to its overarching themes of resilience and redemption, Ruth's story also offers profound insights into the nature of love and sacrifice. Throughout her journey, Ruth's actions are driven by a deep sense of love and devotion, both towards her mother-in-law, Naomi, and towards the God of Israel. Her willingness to sacrifice her own comfort and security for the sake of others is an inspiring kind of selfless love, illustrating that true fulfillment is found not in the pursuit of personal gain, but in the service of others. As we reflect on the timeless lessons found within the pages of Ruth's narrative, may we be inspired to cultivate resilience, embrace uncertainty with faith, and extend love and compassion to those in need. Just as Ruth's journey ultimately leads to redemption and restoration, so, too, can our own lives be transformed through the power of unwavering faith and selfless love. Rebecca writes for "Beliefs in Bites" and "Faith and Future." Connect with Rebecca on social media to stay engaged in her thought-provoking discussions and explorations of the spiritual and technological realms. Twitter: @Rmosswrites purpose and devotion. Return to our 2024 Beach Read Previous Next

< Back Jeremiah David Cowles “God places his words in Jeremiah’s mouth. How can this be consistent with Jeremiah’s status as a free and independent entity?” “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you… See, I place my words in your mouth. Today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms: to uproot and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant.” (Jer 1:1 -10) “Before I formed you…I knew you.” Phrases like this have often been mistakenly understood to mean that God has blueprinted the world. Omnipotent, his will would progress from conception to execution instantaneously and without any assistance. But this is not our God! Ours is an historical and material God; he rolls up his sleeves and gets his hands dirty. But like a General Contractor, he also relies on loyal subcontractors, us, to realize the details of his grand vision. He calls us on each of us as needed, and we, sometimes unwittingly, help bring his designs to fruition. A different sort of god would have no need of others…but what a poor god this would be! I am reminded of Richie Rich, playing with his fancy toys, alone . But that is not what’s happening in Jeremiah. God addresses his prophet in the second person familiar ( du ). He does not talk about Jeremiah the way some Frankenstein might talk about his monster. He does not order Jeremiah about as if he were Alexa . God addresses Jeremiah as a true “Other” (Sartre), a genuine “Thou” (Martin Buber). To recognize Jeremiah in this way is to recognize him as an NFL free agent, a co-creator, not a slave, not a tool. (Unless we have ‘issues’, most of us do not make a habit of talking to our tools.) Yet God knew Jeremiah before he formed him and dedicated Jeremiah before he was even born. Further, God places his words in Jeremiah’s mouth. How can this be consistent with Jeremiah’s status as a free and independent entity? One key to unraveling this paradox lies in understanding Jeremiah’s mission: “to uproot, to tear down, to destroy, to demolish, to build, to plant.” God did not appoint Jeremiah to design the Kingdom of God; that’s God’s job. Jeremiah is not God’s architect; for that he has Sophia . And God is his own general ; Jeremiah is God’s sub . Jeremiah is God’s “change agent”. He is the one who raises the old structures, levels the ground, to make way for the new; he is God’s wrecking crew. Jeremiah tears down ‘Sin City’ so that God can build New Jerusalem in its place. Jeremiah does not impress God’s image upon the world. Rather he smashes the world’s icons and melts them back into raw material so that the evolutionary/historical process, God’s praxis , can make its mark. He was the Abbie Hoffman of his time. God knows the world’s origin: Logos ( Gospel of John ), the Word of God (God’s values). God’s Word (capital W) is reflected in the words (small w) that Jeremiah speaks. Jeremiah proclaims God’s values. Without God’s Word, God’s values, Jeremiah would have nothing to say. God being God is what makes it possible for Jeremiah to be Jeremiah…and, BTW, for you to be you. It is God’s words that Jeremiah speaks; what else? A similar ontological map can be found in the New Testament Letter to Ephesians (2:10): “ For we are…created in Christ Jesus for the good works that God has prepared in advance, that we should live in them. ” The works that are “prepared in advance” are the logical and practical consequence of God’s immutable values. But those works do not spring to life until we animate them. It is up to us to step into those works so that we might “live in them”. God knows the world’s destiny; but knowing is not controlling. God’s knowledge (Parmenides’ Aletheia ) is outside of time; it is the spaceless and timeless foundation through which the space-time universe (Parmenides’ Doxa ) comes to be, on which that universe rests and into which it ultimately resolves itself. God’s eternal knowledge in no way compromises the radical freedom of the intentional events that occur in our space-time universe. In the non-temporal sense (and only in that sense), we may say that God’s gnosis “precedes” (logically, not temporally) his praxis (the world): He thinks before we act! But make no mistake, it is we who act! We are all called to be Jeremiah…in our own time and on our own scale. That is the sense in which God knew Jeremiah before he was formed and dedicated him before he was born. The function of the free and independent Other in the space-time universe is to broadcast God’s Word and to remove impediments to the realization of his Kingdom in the material/historical world (“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”). Whether the Other accepts that function and performs it, and how the Other performs it, are matters entirely outside God’s control. That’s your free will . The only thing certain is that someone, someday will step up. (It was Jeremiah then; will it be you today?) The praxis that draws the world toward its destiny is ultimately God’s, but it calls on others to project (speak) God’s vision (words) and to remove the world’s barriers (sin). Destiny is a lure, not an engraver’s plate. It works like a vacuum, created by the anticipation of what is not yet and by the negation (Sartre) of what already is. As such, God’s praxis draws the process we call “World” gently, unevenly, often imperceptibly, always unpredictably, but inevitably and inexorably toward its goal. In the New Testament we encounter John the Baptist, in many ways a later day version of Jeremiah. It is clear from the texts that God also knew John before he was formed and dedicated him before he was born. God also put his words on John’s tongue. John’s mission: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.” (Mt. 3:3) In fact, the world is in perpetual need of Jeremiahs (and Johns). Like the Tower of Babel, the world’s hardened structures need to be uprooted so that God’s praxis can perfect or replace them. Our Jeremiahs are indeed “appointed over nations and kingdoms” because existing social structures must always give way so that something greater and better can take their place: i.e. the Kingdom of God. Sin then, is another name for ‘institutional inertia’. Every earthly kingdom must someday be laid low so that “God may be all in all” (1 Cor. 15: 28). In this context, we may recognize in Jeremiah the world’s first genuine “anarchist”, and Jeremiah may be a ‘first edition’ of The Anarchist’s Cookbook ? Jeremiah rests on the certain belief that the world is inevitably evolving in a positive direction and that our primary job as political actors is to tear down those anti-social social structures that prevent the world from following its natural course, its Tao . “Grace is flowing like a river”…steadily and at all times. But so-called ‘vested interests’ erect barriers, damns that restrict or, worse, redirect that flow. Prophets (like Jeremiah) are ice breakers, clearing the jam and allowing the flow to resume its natural course. However much we may deny and resist it, we are all in our own ways prophets. Intentionally or not, we all uproot the old and plant the new…which God will ultimately harvest. Therefore, we are all known before we are formed and dedicated before we are born. We are not God’s tools, nor his robots, nor his slaves. Individually and collectively, we are that Other (‘Thou’) into whose eyes God perpetually stares. As the true ontological Other , we are by nature iconoclasts; as such, we are all called to participate in God’s praxis …however much we may “know not what we do”. David Cowles is the founder and editor-in-chief of Aletheia Today Magazine. He lives with his family in Massachusetts where he studies and writes about philosophy, science, theology, and scripture. He can be reached at david@aletheiatoday.com . purpose and devotion. Return to our 2024 Beach Read Previous Next