bilder på g

snart kommer det mer: http://picasaweb.google.com/benjamin.ekman/

ikoner i kappadokien (mobbefilmsnutt)

från mitt besök i kappadokiens fantastiska grottkyrkor, i september.

ikoner m.m.

via fejsbook fick jag igår veta att hemma i sverige (jag är i syrien) så debatteras ikoner (i dagen, var annars?).

är man i damaskus känns sådana debatter vansinningt främmande: här lever jag omgiven av ikoner, i en kristen kultur som avslutade debatten med hjälp av St. Johannes av Damaskus på 600-talet. Han säger:

In former times God, who is without form or body, could never be depicted. But now when God is seen in the flesh conversing with men, I make an image of the God whom I see. I do not worship matter; I worship the Creator of matter who became matter for my sake, who willed to take His abode in matter; who worked out my salvation through matter. Never will I cease honouring the matter which wrought my salvation!
—St John of Damascus

idag hittade jag även denna myket fina text, skriven av Solzhenitsyn, på den grekisk katolska bloggen Word Incarnate. Är det som beskrivs i denna text ett föräderi mot evangelium, en judaskyss enligt insändaren i Dagen?

"A young woman was in the throes of grief and misery over her grievous sins, which included affairs and betrayals and a general turning away from God. Leaving the solitude of the place she was living—for fear she would commit suicide—she walked until she found herself outside a church. She went in and was struck by the huge icon of the Pantocrator (“Ruler of All”) in the dome of the church. Solzhenitsyn describes her experience:"

“At present it was in semi-darkness but, lit from below, the countenance of the Lord of Hosts, majestic in conception, was half visible and half recognizable. There was no trace of consolatory tenderness in the Creator’s tense expression, but nor could vengefulness or menace have any place there. He Himself was the heaven above us all and we were sustained by Him… But from beyond and through what was painted there, the unimaginable looked down—a portrayal of the Power that sustains the world. And whoever encountered the gaze of those celestial Eyes, and whoever was privileged to glimpse even momentarily that Brow, understood with a shock not his own nullity but the place which he was designed and privileged to occupy in the general harmony. And that he was called upon not to disrupt that harmony.

“There Zinaida stood, and went on standing, with her head thrown back, staring into that immensity, deaf to what was happening in the church… What floated above her could not be conveyed in words, was indeed out of reach of thought. It was a wave of life-giving will, surging also into the human breast… she stood shivering like a sacrificial victim awaiting the stroke… A passive receptacle of the Divine Will, she began to feel easier and stronger. Gone was the burning desire she had felt at home to break out, run away… She stood staring upward, her neck growing numb, but the iron bands that had immobilized her for so many days relaxed, gradually fell away, released her…”

This was but the beginning of her liberation from sin, however. She needed also to meet Christ on the level of his com-passion, his suffering-with her, in addition to his awesome and all-encompassing majesty and power. So she approached a different icon of Christ. “It was a completely human face, though its complexion was not of this world… The eyes held an enigmatic omniscience… knowing all, from the beginning to the end of time, things of which we never dream. A mind at ease might not have responded to these depths. But Zinaida, with her heightened perception, saw that Christ was suffering acutely, suffering yet not complaining. His compassion was for all those who approached him—and so at that moment for her. His eyes could absorb whatever pain there yet might be—all her pain, as they had absorbed many times as much before, and would absorb whatever pain was still to come. He had learned to live with pain as something inevitable. And he could grant release from all pain. A weight was lifted from her.”

She began to examine her life, her sins, as the church choir sang penitential psalms. “She shuddered. Her whole story had been known here before her coming. They were proclaiming it aloud.”

She had not come for confession, but there was a priest there hearing confessions, and when the others finished, their eyes met and he invited her to come. There was a lectern there upon which rested the Gospel book and a crucifix. “Gospel and crucifix watched over her confession. The lectern—she saw it now—was a steep slope, a rough steep slope—and up that slope she had to drag her whole life, struggling under the burden, and against the friction… She plunged in without preliminary explanation, throat dry, voice cracked. ‘I have seduced a married man’…”

One by one she dredged up, with great difficulty, the sins that were crushing her soul, or rather burning her from within. Solzhenitsyn describes her struggle with repentance and confession thus: “It was like using the grapnel at a wellhead, with three hooks facing different ways—and what you have to do is find down there, in the dark depths of your soul, a hot stone, fish for it, grip it, only the hooks won’t take hold, it breaks loose, seventy times over it breaks loose until at last, with delicate movements, as cautiously as if it was your dearest treasure, you latch on to it, draw it upward, raise it carefully, carefully, then seize it. You burn your fingers but you have rid your soul of it… It was as if every stone thrown out had ceased to be a part of her…so that she could look at it objectively instead of dragging it around inside her… But once you have learned how to drag these stones out with your grappling hook—your throat is less dry, speech becomes less hesitant, confession flows faster, until your words tumble over themselves as you hurry to snatch at and identify all your betrayals…

“She had blurted out all she had to say, however horrible it was; she had done all she had to do, and now she crouched with her head pressed to the crucifix, breathless. But another Breath, the Spirit, hovered over her and stole tremulously into her. ‘May the Lord our God Jesus Christ [said the priest] through his grace and the munificence of His love for mankind, forgive you, my child, all your transgressions. And I, an unworthy priest, with the authority vested by Him in me…’ He stressed not his authority, but his unworthiness. Grief-stricken witness of her struggle against grief, he testified to her forgiveness. ‘I pardon you and absolve you of all your sins…’

“He withdrew his stole, and she quietly raised her uncovered head… Yes, he had understood her question, and let it be seen that he had… ‘In each of us [he said] there is a mystery greater than we realize. And it is in communion with God that we are able to catch a glimpse of it. Learn to pray. Truly, you are capable of it.’”

What Would Jesus Buy Trailer

Benedikt XVI: Om vi betraktar missbruket av ekonomisk makt, grymheterna av en kapitalism som degraderar människan till en vara, går också rikedomens faror upp för oss. Vi förstår då på nytt det som Jesus menade med sin varning för rikedomen, för den människoförstörande Mammon, som håller stora delar av världen i sitt grymma strupgrepp. Ja, saligprisningarna går tvärsemot vår spontana livskänsla, vår hunger och törst efter liv. De kräver ’omvändelse’ – en inre omvändelse från den naturliga riktning i vilken vi skulle vilja gå. Men i denna omvändelse framträder det som är renare och högre. Tillvaron ordnar sig där för oss på ett rätt sätt” (Jesus från Nasaret, 96-97, Artos)

karismatisk bönestund med shiamuslimer i umayyad moskén

Aftonbladet: Ingmar Bergman död

Aftonbladet: Ingmar Bergman död: "Ingmar Bergman död

Ingmar Bergman blev 89 år gammal.
Foto: MAGNUS WENNMAN
En av Sveriges mest kända regissörer, Ingmar Bergman, har avlidit.
– Jag är på väg till Fårö nu, säger hans dotter Eva Bergman till aftonbladet.se.
Eva Bergman bekräftar dödsfallet för TT och aftonbladet.se på måndagen.
Ingmar Bergman dog i sitt hem på Fårö, 89 år gammal.
– Jag har ingen mer kommentar att ge just nu. Jag är på väg att resa till Fårö, säger Eva Bergman.
Döden kom lugnt och stilla.
Begravningen kommer att ske på en ännu ej fastställd tidpunkt i en nära krets av familj och vänner.
Prästsonen Ingmar Bergman föddes i Uppsala 1918. Han regisserade ett 40-tal långfilmer, långt över 100 teateruppsättningar och mängder av tv-filmer och tv-teater.
Det stora internationella genombrottet kom med Oscarsbelönade Jungfrukällan (1960). Samma framgång och belöning rönte Såsom i en spegel året därpå."

orrologion: In Memoriam: Patriarch Teoctist of Romania

orrologion: In Memoriam: Patriarch Teoctist of Romania: "In Memoriam: Patriarch Teoctist of Romania

Article posted [on OCA.org]: 7/30/2007 12:18 PM


SYOSSET, NY [OCA Communications] -- On Monday, July 30, 2007, the Chancery of the Orthodox Church in America was informed that His Beatitude, Patriarch Teoctist, Primate of the autocephalous Orthodox Church of Romania, had died at the age of 92.

Patriarch Teoctist was born on February 7, 1915, in the village Tocileni, Botosani county, in northeastern Romania. In 1929, he joined the Vorona Monastery. Later, he embraced monasticism, taking the name Teoctist, at the Bistrita Monastery.

He studied at the Orthodox Seminary in Cernica from 1932 until 1940 and graduated from the Orthodox Theological Faculty of Bucharest University in 1944.

On March 25, 1945, he was ordained to the priesthood in Iasi, where after his consecration to the episcpacy he served as vicar bishop from 1949 to 1962. From 1962 to 1973, he served as Bishop of Arad. From 1973 until 1977, he served as Archbishop of Craiova and Metropolitan of Oltenia. He served as Archbishop of Iasi and Metropolitan of Moldova and Suceava from 1977 until his election as Archbishop of Bucharest and Patriarch of Romania on November 9, 1986.

Further details will be posted on the OCA web site as they become available.

Orrologion: What always struck me a"

Glenn Gould: The Russian Journey (1 of 6)

från First Things: "n 1957, a 24-year-old Canadian virtuoso pianist named Glenn Gould visited the Soviet Union on an official mission of cultural exchange. Gould’s presence made such an impact among the Russians who heard him play that, fifty years later, Feyginberg is able to interview people for whom the encounter with Gould is still one of the most significant events of their life. A theatre director named Roman Viktyuk describes a packed house in Leningrad, waiting for Gould to arrive: “The place was full of people. Everyone here was expecting a miracle.” That expectation was already subversive—miracles weren’t supposed to be necessary after the Revolution. Vladimir Tropp, a pianist, adds: “Gould was the first to reveal this world to us. The Berlin Wall existed in music as well, and perhaps Gould was one of those who were breaking that wall.” Another fan confesses that “we started to live by each recording of Gould.” The Russians who heard him play began to love Gould more than the Revolution."

att stamma fram en förklaring av sin tro

"It is very hard for a man to defend anything of which he is entirely convinced. It is comparatively easy when he is only partially convinced. He is partially convinced because he has found this or that proof of the thing, and he can expound it. But a man is not really convinced of a philosophic theory when he finds that something proves it. He is only really convinced when he finds that everything proves it. And the more converging reasons he finds pointing to this conviction, the more bewildered he is if asked suddenly to sum them up. Thus, if one asked an ordinary intelligent man, on the spur of the moment, 'Why do you prefer civilization to savagery?' he would look wildly round at object after object, and would only be able to answer vaguely, 'Why, there is that bookcase . . . and the coals in the coal-scuttle . . . and pianos . . . and policemen.' The whole case for civilization is that the case for it is complex."

- G.K. Chesterton (Orthodoxy)

Benedict om Eukaristin

Post-synodal Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum Caritatis:

Eukaristin som början av världens förvandling:
11. ... "'The Eucharist draws us into Jesus' act of self-oblation. More than just statically receiving the incarnate Logos, we enter into the very dynamic of his self-giving.' (21) Jesus 'draws us into himself.' (22) The substantial conversion of bread and wine into his body and blood introduces within creation the principle of a radical change, a sort of 'nuclear fission,' to use an image familiar to us today, which penetrates to the heart of all being, a change meant to set off a process which transforms reality, a process leading ultimately to the transfiguration of the entire world, to the point where God will be all in all (cf. 1 Cor 15:28)."

Skönhet och liturgi:
35. This relationship between creed and worship is evidenced in a particular way by the rich theological and liturgical category of beauty. Like the rest of Christian Revelation, the liturgy is inherently linked to beauty: it is veritatis splendor. The liturgy is a radiant expression of the paschal mystery, in which Christ draws us to himself and calls us to communion. As Saint Bonaventure would say, in Jesus we contemplate beauty and splendour at their source. (106) This is no mere aestheticism, but the concrete way in which the truth of God's love in Christ encounters us, attracts us and delights us, enabling us to emerge from ourselves and drawing us towards our true vocation, which is love. (107) God allows himself to be glimpsed first in creation, in the beauty and harmony of the cosmos (cf. Wis 13:5; Rom 1:19- 20). In the Old Testament we see many signs of the grandeur of God's power as he manifests his glory in his wondrous deeds among the Chosen People (cf. Ex 14; 16:10; 24:12-18; Num 14:20- 23). In the New Testament this epiphany of beauty reaches definitive fulfilment in God's revelation in Jesus Christ: (108) Christ is the full manifestation of the glory of God. In the glorification of the Son, the Father's glory shines forth and is communicated (cf. Jn 1:14; 8:54; 12:28; 17:1). Yet this beauty is not simply a harmony of proportion and form; "the fairest of the sons of men" (Ps 45[44]:3) is also, mysteriously, the one "who had no form or comeliness that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him" (Is 53:2). Jesus Christ shows us how the truth of love can transform even the dark mystery of death into the radiant light of the resurrection. Here the splendour of God's glory surpasses all worldly beauty. The truest beauty is the love of God, who definitively revealed himself to us in the paschal mystery.

The beauty of the liturgy is part of this mystery; it is a sublime expression of God's glory and, in a certain sense, a glimpse of heaven on earth. The memorial of Jesus' redemptive sacrifice contains something of that beauty which Peter, James and John beheld when the Master, making his way to Jerusalem, was transfigured before their eyes (cf. Mk 9:2). Beauty, then, is not mere decoration, but rather an essential element of the liturgical action, since it is an attribute of God himself and his revelation. These considerations should make us realize the care which is needed, if the liturgical action is to reflect its innate splendour.

Why the New Mass and New Rite of Ordination are Invalid

Det är dessa människor Benedict hoppas kunna närma sig när han gör detta lättare att fira den gammla mässan.

En smak av medeltiden

En gammal inspelning av en Tridentinsk mässa i Chicago. Biskop Fulton Sheen kommenterar och översätter. Han var en av amerikas första stora tv-predikanter.

Härom dagen slppte påven ett dokument som gör det enklare för präster att fira denna gammla latinska mässa. se t.ex. Sacramentum Vitae's kommentar.

Elder Cleopa - On Prayer

Rumäniens andlige fader talar om bönen, precis innan han dog.

Bob Dylan - I Will Love Him - 1980 Toronto (3rd night)

vertigo

den här bilden har nån gjort genom att ta en ruta varje minut från hitchcocks film vertigo (via alan jacobs).

THE ICON OF THE THEOTOKOS OF VALAAM RETURNED TO HOME MONASTERY FROM SPACE + Православие.Ru

THE ICON OF THE THEOTOKOS OF VALAAM RETURNED TO HOME MONASTERY FROM SPACE + Православие.Ru: "The copy of the miracle working icon of Theotokos of Valaam returned to its home monastery at the Ladozhskoye lake. According to the press secretary of the Valaam monastery Mikhail Shishkov, the revered icon was met at the main cathedral on the island, where it would be kept from now on.

Oil-painted copy of the miracle working Valaam icon was delivered to the space station with the blessing of the great Northern monastery in September 2005. It was carried by a freight spaceship Progress M54, and, according to the astronauts, has purified the space station. Accompanying Sergey Krikalev and John Phillips it flew around the Earth more than a thousand times.

The original version of the Theotokos of Valaam was created at the end of the nineteenth century by the monk of the Valaam monastery Alipy (Konstantinov). The Mother of God is pictured full height, walking on clouds with Her Son in Her arms. The space station’s copy was painted by the brothers of the Valaam monastery. Visitors from the orbital space center arrived at the monastery last summer, and Bishop Pankraty (Zherdev) of Troitsk offered them the shrine to forward to the space station."

Czeslaw Milosz - Poetry: Encounter

Czeslaw Milosz - Poetry: Encounter:

We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.

And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.

That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.



Wilno, 1936"

Benjamin som cowboy

en video från igår som dokumenterar mig som cowboy här ute på landet. fick jaga sex kossor från vår gräsmatta.

“A Traveler”
Denise Levertov

If it’s chariots or sandals,
I’ll take sandals.
I like the high prow of the chariot,
the daredevil speed, the wind
a quick tune you can’t
quite catch
but I want to go
a long way
and I want to follow
paths where wheels deadlock.
And I don’t want always
to be among gear and horses
blood, foam, dust. I’d like
to wean myself from their strange allure.
I’ll chance
the pilgrim sandals.

dagens låt

Brandi Carlile: The Story