Thoughts

The Time of No Room

“We are living in the time of no room … The time when everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and space the anguish produced within them by the technological furies of size, volume, quantity, speed, number, price, power, and acceleration.

We are numbered in billions and massed together, marshaled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment, surfeited with everything, nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.

As the end approaches, there is no room for nature. There is no room for solitude. There is no room for thought. There is no room for attention, for the awareness of our state.

“In the time of the ultimate end, there is no room for man.” (Thomas Merton, Raids on the Unspeakable, 49-50).

Felix Varela (1788-1853)

He began his priestly ministry in Cuba. Because of his writings on liberty and equal rights, he was forced to flee Spain in 1823 and go into exile. He never returned to Cuba. He settled in New York City where he worked among the city’s poor Irish immigrants. He earned a doctorate in theology and served as vicar general for the Archdiocese of New York. He published two books that attempted to integrate faith and the cause of liberty. He argued that "irreligiosity” undermined the moral fabric of society, and so proved inimical to the cause of freedom. “Once irreligiosity is spread throughout the social body, it destroys all links of appreciation, and like poison, it corrupts and kills the body. Honor becomes a vain word; patriotism a political mask; and virtue a fancy.” The inevitable result is tyranny. He died at the age of 65, exhausted by his tireless ministry and impoverished by his publishing.

Video on Antarctica

You may enjoy this YouTube video by John Paul Caponigro on Antarctica. Copy link and open in your browser. https://youtu.be/jteBE8haOGA

Martin Luther King - Love and Hatred, December 24, 2022

On Christmas Eve, Martin Luther King’s words ring true. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life, love illuminates it. I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

 Reflection on Photography - December 15, 2022

I have always been fascinated by photography. I received my first box camera using 120 black-and-white film when I was still a youngster. I eventually set up my basement darkroom and developed my pictures. I would set out three trays – one of a developer, one of a shortstop, and one of a hypo fixer. These were the chemicals needed to process the film and pictures I received from my camera. I would then wash the film and the prints to ensure the chemicals were removed. I would roll the prints onto a ferrotype metal plate to give them their glossy appearance.

As the years went on, I purchased different cameras, some still using film. Then I purchased my first digital camera. I continued to take pictures, and now have computer discs filled with images I have taken over the years.

It is a great gift to have some of those images. I can look back over the history of my life and recall people, friends, and occasions of long ago. Some pictures were of my family members who have gone to heaven. Some were from my time in the seminary. Others were from my first assignments as a young priest. Other pictures would be of places where I traveled. As I look at the faces of the people in those pictures, I have many fond memories of who they were.

Recently I read an article by Howard Zehr[1] who challenged me on the way I “took,” “shot” or “snapped” pictures. I “pointed” my camera to “capture” an image. I realized the language I used for photography was a violent language.

I also knew that photography can be a contemplative experience. Here, one “observes” or “contemplates” an image or scene. The camera receives the image through its lens onto its sensor. Once that image is shown on a computer screen or on a print it is easier to contemplate the light and darkness, the shadows and nuances of light, the beauty of the scene or the persons. To “receive” an image through photography seems much more positive than “taking” an image.

I was reflecting on the Mass and Holy Communion. In the Eucharist we “receive” the living Jesus. We are gifted with Christ’s presence. We don’t “take” Holy Communion but receive. We also offer ourselves as a gift for God to receive. God doesn’t “take” the gift we offer but rather receives the gift. St. Ignatius of Loyola praise, “Take Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire self. I give it all to you …  Do with it what you will.”

There is a big difference between taking and receiving, whether it’s in our relationship with God and others, or whether it is about our photography. In many areas of life, I am becoming more aware of the importance of receiving the gift that is offered rather than taking something I want.

[1] Howard Zehr, “Changing Our Lens,” in The Little Book of Contemplative Photography (New York: Good Books, 2005), 14-22.