Amazing. I converted to Catholicism while at Princeton Theological Seminary a few years ago, then stuck around to do Catholic campus ministry at the university. So much of this perfectly captures the young East Coast Ivy(-adjacent) Catholic scene, which draws and repels me by turns. As a latecomer to the great books and the Church, it is easy for me to think that if only I had been raised steeped in Thomas and friends, I would have made less mistakes and be farther along in the areas I care most about (ie family and career). But the reality is that you can’t out-parent original sin. Even (although I’m skeptical of this as I say it) by reading lots of Lewis with your children. Phronesis REQUIRES experience. This is why Aristotle thought you couldn’t have practical wisdom until you were in your 30’s. Being raised with several languages and Dante on my tongue may have helped—maybe. But there is nothing in the mind that is not first in the senses, and it still would have taken me some time to take in the world and my misuses of it to actually understand what the greats were telling me about sin and virtue and grace.
Anyways this occasioned a lot of reflection for me. I’m looking forward to reading your other stuff. Glad you’re here and writing!
Thank you for your very thoughtful comment, and for sharing a bit about your conversion. I am very glad that we share some of the same feelings about the Catholic intellectual world haha; it's nice to know one isn't alone! Wonderful point, too, about Aristotle and practical wisdom. It is very true, and very frustrating, but luckily, as you say, we have the grace of God. Have a wonderful Sunday!
you have given voice to the insides of my mind! bravo!
i see so many parallels between your story and mine - [i have] a lawyer-cum-academic father, an austere and devoutly religious upbringing (replete with early morning bible readings with the rest of family), a brief dalliance with a figure of authority in my life, 8 years older than i
after 4 years of cutting religion off from my life, i've decided to reclaim it for myself, sans filial obligations. i often attempt to analyze it from a secularist lens (unsure if i truly believe in a christian God, but will gladly go through the motions of communion, prayer, worship etc.)
cool to read another 20something's thoughts on faith! religion! spirituality! in a world and a time when such discussions are stigmatized. happy to subscribe!
Thank you so much. I am glad to hear that we have found each other across the internet! I am really honored and humbled to have written something that moved you xx
This text remind me of one poem by the brazilian poet Bruno Tolentino, a man who was also tormented by lust, and, at his poetic journey in his last book "A Imitação do Amanhecer" (rougly translated, "the imitation of dawn"), drawn a last poem -- as he was being confronted by death -- a sonnet crying for mercy by God and recognizing his pagan soul to God. I wish you enjoy it as it was very hard to translate it to English:
Hear my cry, oh eternal and luminous turn,
oh Milky Way, hear this long sobbing
of a strangled spring, the thrush floating
in the Antoniades Park, at the terminal of pleasure
of Alexandria, the exhausted rose whose husband,
the vesperal worm, insists on singing:
hear it as a Levite from place to place,
unable to be silent, dizzying turn...
Hear it and help it, oh gray-haired sister of the immense,
oh endless and aimless road,
extend your hand now, take everything I think,
take me this spiral from my mouth and this emotion
of the body, oh extravagant, take my heart
and cradle it, and let this suspended stream fall asleep!
Oh Milky Way, oh luminous sister – according to
Apollinaire – of the white threads of vain water,
the furtive water that visits the world's earth
and also evaporates, oh my sister
most ancient, most nebulous, oh vague wool
of the empty skeins I walk in, a dying man
in the timeless, only a sign that the depth
of everything and of myself is the pagan solitude
of the feverish soul that evaporates and historicizes,
oh expansion of Alexandria, oh white
and tenebrous path, it is all the rose being torn,
petal by petal, from the profanations of ash,
oh Milky Way, oh my sister who places the bolt
of the immense in the heart of what is dying...
I really hope God's peace in your life, sis.
Fraternal cheers from a Brazilian reader who found your text randomly on X.
Thank you so much for sharing this. It is beautiful, and I am even more touched you took this time to translate it for me. I wish you God’s peace as well xx
Amazing. I converted to Catholicism while at Princeton Theological Seminary a few years ago, then stuck around to do Catholic campus ministry at the university. So much of this perfectly captures the young East Coast Ivy(-adjacent) Catholic scene, which draws and repels me by turns. As a latecomer to the great books and the Church, it is easy for me to think that if only I had been raised steeped in Thomas and friends, I would have made less mistakes and be farther along in the areas I care most about (ie family and career). But the reality is that you can’t out-parent original sin. Even (although I’m skeptical of this as I say it) by reading lots of Lewis with your children. Phronesis REQUIRES experience. This is why Aristotle thought you couldn’t have practical wisdom until you were in your 30’s. Being raised with several languages and Dante on my tongue may have helped—maybe. But there is nothing in the mind that is not first in the senses, and it still would have taken me some time to take in the world and my misuses of it to actually understand what the greats were telling me about sin and virtue and grace.
Anyways this occasioned a lot of reflection for me. I’m looking forward to reading your other stuff. Glad you’re here and writing!
Dear Eric,
Thank you for your very thoughtful comment, and for sharing a bit about your conversion. I am very glad that we share some of the same feelings about the Catholic intellectual world haha; it's nice to know one isn't alone! Wonderful point, too, about Aristotle and practical wisdom. It is very true, and very frustrating, but luckily, as you say, we have the grace of God. Have a wonderful Sunday!
you have given voice to the insides of my mind! bravo!
i see so many parallels between your story and mine - [i have] a lawyer-cum-academic father, an austere and devoutly religious upbringing (replete with early morning bible readings with the rest of family), a brief dalliance with a figure of authority in my life, 8 years older than i
after 4 years of cutting religion off from my life, i've decided to reclaim it for myself, sans filial obligations. i often attempt to analyze it from a secularist lens (unsure if i truly believe in a christian God, but will gladly go through the motions of communion, prayer, worship etc.)
cool to read another 20something's thoughts on faith! religion! spirituality! in a world and a time when such discussions are stigmatized. happy to subscribe!
Thank you so much. I am glad to hear that we have found each other across the internet! I am really honored and humbled to have written something that moved you xx
It's very interesting to read something like this so steeped in references to religion.
You've made me register for a religion class next quarter at college.
Thank you so much. This means so much to me. I hope it is a fruitful experience x
you are such a talented writer! sending you well wishes.
Thank you so much. You are so kind.
This text remind me of one poem by the brazilian poet Bruno Tolentino, a man who was also tormented by lust, and, at his poetic journey in his last book "A Imitação do Amanhecer" (rougly translated, "the imitation of dawn"), drawn a last poem -- as he was being confronted by death -- a sonnet crying for mercy by God and recognizing his pagan soul to God. I wish you enjoy it as it was very hard to translate it to English:
Hear my cry, oh eternal and luminous turn,
oh Milky Way, hear this long sobbing
of a strangled spring, the thrush floating
in the Antoniades Park, at the terminal of pleasure
of Alexandria, the exhausted rose whose husband,
the vesperal worm, insists on singing:
hear it as a Levite from place to place,
unable to be silent, dizzying turn...
Hear it and help it, oh gray-haired sister of the immense,
oh endless and aimless road,
extend your hand now, take everything I think,
take me this spiral from my mouth and this emotion
of the body, oh extravagant, take my heart
and cradle it, and let this suspended stream fall asleep!
Oh Milky Way, oh luminous sister – according to
Apollinaire – of the white threads of vain water,
the furtive water that visits the world's earth
and also evaporates, oh my sister
most ancient, most nebulous, oh vague wool
of the empty skeins I walk in, a dying man
in the timeless, only a sign that the depth
of everything and of myself is the pagan solitude
of the feverish soul that evaporates and historicizes,
oh expansion of Alexandria, oh white
and tenebrous path, it is all the rose being torn,
petal by petal, from the profanations of ash,
oh Milky Way, oh my sister who places the bolt
of the immense in the heart of what is dying...
I really hope God's peace in your life, sis.
Fraternal cheers from a Brazilian reader who found your text randomly on X.
Thank you so much for sharing this. It is beautiful, and I am even more touched you took this time to translate it for me. I wish you God’s peace as well xx