Putting Things In Order

Christ came among us to put us back in our proper place...

Easter 2013 • SJF • Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
Since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. But each in his own order.

When our cat Augusta Victoria died last year Brother James and I took our time before we sought a replacement. Finally after some months I looked at the website of a local animal shelter and the picture of one of the cats available for adoption spoke to me. (He said, Meow.) When we went to the shelter the cat himself was most insistent that he be adopted. There is an old saying that you don’t choose a cat but a cat chooses you, and this was very much the case: as he came right up to me and looked me in the eyes through the mesh of the separating screen. And so Sir Bootz Paddington found a new home.

His predecessor Augusta Victoria, as her name would suggest, had been a rather regal and restrained lady, particularly in her later years, and I’m afraid we had forgotten just how energetic a young cat can be, and so Sir Bootz not only found a new home but has very quickly made it his own. There is another old saying that “to cats all the world belongs to cats.” And one of the things that cats believe is that everything high should be brought low. (Perhaps all cats are inspired by the prophet Isaiah!) Placemats, paperweights, coasters and silverware belong not on dinner tables but on the floor. Towels belong not on the towel-rack, but on the floor. Magazines do not belong on an end or coffee table, but on the floor. Seat cushions belong not on chairs — but where? — on the floor. After all, the floor, like everything else, belongs to the cat, and it is his natural habitat. What appears to be dis-order to us is completely orderly to the cat.

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Human beings, in the long run, are often no more in accord with the will of God than with the world-view of the cat. In fact, we human beings had gotten ourselves completely out of order with the will of God — to the extent that God himself had to come among us as one of us to put things back in order. This is what Christ was doing in the incarnation; in his birth, life, suffering, death and — as we observe today — his resurrection. God in Christ came down to our level — a level which we sometimes need to be reminded does not actually belong to us any more than the floor belongs to the cat. (Don’t tell the cat! And if you did tell him, he’d just give you a blank stare anyway, and say, O.K., sure, I know what’s mine...)

Christ Jesus came to put things back in order, to restore things from the disorder into which our ancient ancestor Adam had disturbed and disrupted things — introducing disorder into God’s orderly world. And God did this by coming among us as a human being, in a very orderly response to the disorder: for, as Saint Paul assures us, since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead would also come through a human being.

Now, this is a point on which we need to be very clear — as it sometimes gets a bit confused. I have heard people describe the incarnation — Christ’s coming among us — almost like one of those old stories about a king who wants to discover what his subjects really think of him, by going about among them disguised as an ordinary person. And it is true that Jesus Christ came among us as an ordinary person — but this was absolutely not a disguise. There was no pretense or deception, or mere appearance of being human. Jesus Christ was a human being — a man who lived in the Middle East some 2000 years ago, who exercised a ministry, fell afoul of the authorities, was condemned to death and executed — dead and buried. He was a man.

But he was also God — not just a very good man looked upon favorably by God, — and adopted by God as I might adopt a cat — but God himself, fully divine at the same time he was fully human.

And this addresses the second fallacy of this wrong thinking: God did not need to come among us, like a king disguised among his people, to find out how badly we had gotten things wrong, to find out what we really thought about God. God was only too well aware of just how badly off track we had gone, and the questions posed by God to Adam and Eve about whether they had eaten of the forbidden fruit were purely rhetorical. God knew exactly how far humanity had fallen from the place where God had placed them.

+ + +

And it is because Jesus is one person with two natures, human and divine, that he is able to reconcile and repair the disorder that Adam introduced, when he and his wife took and ate of the fruit of the tree that had been forbidden, in their misguided effort to be like God. The tragedy is that they already were like God — they had been made in God’s image, after God’s likeness. If they had resisted the temptation to grab at what in due course God would have given them when they had grown to greater maturity, they would have reached the perfection which otherwise had to await the coming of the perfectly obedient son of God, born as a human being, to share the fate that human beings earned through the fall of their ancient ancestors, but to redeem that fall and put humanity back in order.

And thus the great disorder of death was dealt with once and for all. And from the cat’s perspective — at last — this was done exactly as any cat would do, by putting all things under his feet. Jesus triumphed over that old enemy, death itself.

+ + +

And yet, as we look around us, don’t we see that there is plenty of disorder in the world; that although Jesus Christ defeated death on Calvary, people still die? Surely they do, and we know that very well. God help us, though, if we stop at that; if, as Saint Paul observed, “for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.” If all there is, in other words, is this life followed by death and the grave; if there is no resurrection of the dead, no hope of the life to come, then we have wasted an awful lot of time and energy. But as Saint Paul said, “In fact, Christ has been raised from the dead.” When the women went to the tomb that morning long ago, the angels assured them that the living one was not to be found among the dead, but that he was risen. And as Peter said to Cornelius and his household, “God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear...to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.”

That, my friends, is the unanimous testimony of Scripture, words from long ago. But there is other testimony closer to us — as close as our hearts, if we will listen to God speaking in them and through them, assuring us that death is not the end. Death is simply part of the disorder that God put right in Jesus Christ. We will all still die — we will see, many of us, our parents, our friends, sometimes even our children, pass beneath the shadow of death. Some of us have already seen these things. But those of us who trust in God rely on the assurance of things not seen — of the hope of the resurrection, the restoration of order where all things were disorder, the lifting up of that which has fallen down, the raising up of that which had been buried.

Although the cat might like to see all things brought down to his level, God will raise up all that has been brought low. Our Lord Jesus Christ stooped to pick us up from where we had fallen, and will do so again, and again, with each death, new life will come one day, on the great day of resurrection, when the trumpet sounds and we are raised incorruptible, restored to the likeness we once shared with God himself in Jesus Christ. To God be the glory henceforth and forever more. Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia.

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Sir Bootz Salutes Saint Pat's

This noble cousin of the famous Maru shares his interest in boxes.

Tobias Stanislas Haller

Introducing

This is Sir Bootz, a shelter cat from Pets Alive Westchester, added to the rectory population yesterday. He is a fine clerical fellow, right at home on my keyboard, in fact blocking the screen at this very moment. He has a very sweet disposition, and is fascinated by my typing on the keyboard... Perhaps I can put him to work?

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Goodbye, A.V.

“Euthanasia - small.” That’s what the receipt from the vet reads, a concise summary to this morning's sadness. Of course, the burial followed, behind the rectory, with full feline honors from a visiting cat in the tree above the garage. It was a bit hot for digging, but the grave was dug, and Augusta Victoria, our companion from kittenhood on for almost fifteen years, was committed to the earth.

Augusta was a most sociable cat, no stand-offish empress as her name might suggest, but fully aware that noblesse often obliges mingling with the common folk, just to let them know that she has the interest of the plebs at heart.

And a warm heart she had, and great affection, and she will be much missed. Over the last year as her kidneys failed she lost sixty percent of her weight, and over the last two weeks had lost even more, and over the last two days had given up even on eating, and was stumbling in her walking and even as she stood at her water-bowl to drink. It was time, and a sad time it was.

I know it is sentimental to dwell on such things, but I take comfort in something C.S. Lewis once wrote about how just as we are made more than we are in Christ as we share in his life, so too the animals who share in our lives become more than they otherwise would be. Human beings are doubly blessed to have a God who shows us so much love from above, while creatures such as this show us so much love from below. May we be made worthy of that love, by that love.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Augusta muses on Rick Warren

I think she was hoping for Tuna.

Friday Cat Dog Blogging

This is Sancho, whom I met when I was in San Francisco, along with his "companion" Graziela. He only weighs a little over four pounds, and is some three years old. Very intelligent, apt to fetch stuffed toys and leap excitedly. On the whole very doglike.

I confess I am not in general a "dog person" as I find most dogs to be a bit overwhelming -- especially when they weigh more than I do. (This does not include +Clumber, who has all the due Episcopal decorum.) But Sancho and Gracie were delightful, in spite of the latter's not yet completely house-broken ways.

Augusta Victoria, who weighs more than both of these pooches combined, need not hear of this. She has given up blogging for the time being, as she has become fascinated with CNN's coverage of meta-debate about the presidential debate, including coverage of their own staff meetings' discussion of the same. This is as close to a cat-toy as news can get.

Tobias Haller BSG

For Julian, At Day’s End

Augusta has fond thoughts concerning Julian of Norwich, but even fonder thought concerning Tuna of Sandwich. She is well aware that all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing will be well — but is also wondering when the dinner bell will toll.

Embodied Fel(in)icity

or,we are not abused.

Augusta Victoria muses on the latest on Human Rights from the Archbishop of Canterbury.

She is chiefly concerned with the question of Feline Rights, and whether she possesses them due to her feline embodiment, or because she is a feline by virtue of descent from other felines. What, she wonders, does embodiment mean since her body changes day by day, as large quantities of Friskies (consisting of things for the most part once part of other entities such as plants, fish, and even other mammals) are incorporated into her present embodiment, while other portions of that body pass out in exchange, as anyone who has tended her Box o' Litter can attest? (The amount of fur gathered from carpets, sofas, and armchairs in the past year is sufficient to constitute another entire cat.) Moreover, since early adolescence she has been missing one particular portion of her body, and does not feel, in spite of this having rendered her incapable of passing along her own bodiliness to subsequent feline generations, any less feline.

She applauds the Archbishop's observation that "liberty is not to be silenced, not to have my body reduced to someone else's instrument." Feline rejection of the notion of "petitude" has long been noted, and disdain for relatively "canine" behavior -- revealed by Scripture as cause for exclusion from the Kingdom of God (Rev 22:15)* -- forms a large part of the long-noted hostility between those species.

Still, the question arises as to whether Feline Rights are innate (based on existence as a Feline Being) merely on account of embodiment as a feline, or the recognition of that fact by another entity, be it Human or Dog. The Archbishop seems to suggest this as a criterion when he states that

Rights belong not to the person who can demonstrate capacity or rationality but to any organism that can be recognised as a human body, at any stage of its organic development.

This seems to shift the embodiment away from the body itself into the subjective perception of it by some other entity, and that entity's ability to "recognise" the individual in question as human; or in this case, feline. As the very earliest embryonic forms of feline and human are barely distinguishable except by the application of sub-microscopic analysis of DNA sequences, it would appear then that rights ought not be governed merely by "embodiment" -- or by an even more abstruse concept of "recognized embodiment" (surely a receptionist suggestion) -- but rather use as a point of reference the principle of descent from other humans -- or felines; if, that is, one wishes to address the reality of the fluid nature of embodiment at all its stages of life.

Meanwhile, her expression appears to indicate that, like another monarch, she is not particularly amused by either my or the Archbishop's speculations, and is wondering when the next tin of poultry byproducts will be offered.

Tobias Haller BSG

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*This does not apply to Clumber and other beloved Dogs.

Otherwise Occupied

I am indeed back from my double-header of conferences, and have even managed to plow my way through some of the post-conference work I promised to take up. However, in addition to plumbing problems at the rectory, work at the parish calls. I do promise to take up some blogging ere long, but in the meantime hope you are happy to see this recent photograph of Augusta. In addition to the whiskey glass the observant Mimi noted in her last photograph, I have suspicions about the drinks trolley having been tampered with in my absence, and assume that A is sleeping it off. Of course, with a cat it is difficult to tell.

Premature Cat Blogging

While I am at the conference of the National Association of Episcopal Christian Communities (NÆCC), I am sure that Augusta will be up to something.

Friday Cat

Could you have found nowhere else to store these palms?

Friday Cat Blogging

The late Oxford Deodatus contemplating assisting in the preparation of the calendar, but also concerned about the avian distractions on the balcony.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

The Mad Priest reflects upon the origin of the Cat as the means to render human folk humble. Noted, and seconded.


As my Thought for the Day, I offer the following:

Dogs are like people as people wish people were.
Cats are like people as they really are.

—Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
The cat pictured is the late Oxford Deodatus