Posts tagged iowa

My method for remembering which pages of Gilead contained not just great and thoughtful narrative but Culture Making-worthy quotes was this: I remembered a phrase from the Psalm of the particular page's number. So I thought, "you have searched me and you known me," and was thus able to find this quote again. I don't know what I would have done if I'd wanted to excerpt something that came after page 150 ...

re: community, discipline, iowa, least of nations, leviticus, literature, parents, traces of god

Nate:

What the reading yields is the idea of father and mother as the Universal Father and Mother, the Lord‘s dear Adam and His beloved Eve; that is, essential humankind as it came from His hand. There is a pattern in these Commandments of setting things apart so that their holiness will be perceived Every day is holy, but the Sabbath is set apart so that the holiness of time can be experienced. Every human being is worthy of honor, but the conscious discipline of honor is learned from this setting apart of the mother and father, who usually labor and are heavy-laden, and may be cranky and stingy or ignorant or overbearing. Believe me, I know this can be a hard Commandment to keep. But I believe also that the rewards of obedience are great, because at the root of real honor is always the sense of the sacredness of the person who is its object.

A lovely passage on the here and hereafter from the novel that's currently (and belatedly, given the strength of my friends' recommendations) on my bedside table.

re: heaven, horizons of the possible, iowa, literature, new jerusalem, primordial stories, revelation

Nate:

I feel sometimes as if I were a child who opens its eyes on the world once and sees amazing things it will never know any names for and then has to close its eyes again. I know this is all mere apparition compared to what awaits us, but it is only lovelier for that. There is a human beauty to it. And I can’t believe that, when we have all been changed and put on incorruptibility, we will forget our fantastic condition of mortality and impermanence, the great bright dream of procreating and perishing that meant the whole world to us. In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets. Because I don’t imagine any reality putting this one in the shade entirely, and I think piety forbids me to try.