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Adonais an Autumn Michael mood study

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  • holderlin66
    Steve brought; Today, it s the Yogi Berra quote of the century, i.e., deja vu all over again . Rich subject matter, interest in so many different avenues of
    Message 1 of 14 , Oct 13, 2007

      Steve brought;

      "Today, it's the Yogi Berra quote of the century, i.e., "deja vu all
      over again".

      Rich subject matter, interest in so many different avenues of history, science, social and humanistic concerns, are all concerns that Rudolf Steiner forged ahead with in defending and planting a Michael School to antidote the intense assaults coming in.  Here we are in the 21st century reexperiencing a resurfaced intensity similar to the time sequence and patterns Dr. Steiner fought a solo battle with.

      The singular and pioneer examples of great souls who had formed a fragile ring around the the science and education of the Michael impulse set the tone for those of us who follow.  Now everything that could be seen and observed out of the 20th century has come back with intensity for the stragglers now working out of the Michael impulse in 2007.  It is all back in vogue, back in fashion, fascism is back in fashion and America is a much bigger fish than Germany was. Those beings who were forced out of the higher devachan regions into the rgions of human soul and brain systems have brought with them tremendous technological prowess along with a diminished sense of humanity.  Ahriman is using every trick and every unconscious motive in the aresenal of the human psyche to prepare for another dictatorship wrapped up in what is called Executive Branch American democracy.

      Executive Branch dominance disavows the checks and balances of a three system, triad, soul system and human system planted by the founding fathers in Judicial - Legislative and Executive branches of tri-part system. 

      So we turn once more to the wrangling and cracks in the community of Michael and once more we see exactly how subjective antipathies, sympathies and superficial selfish ridicule of any free cognition arises always from within the Michael School.  All Michael School participants I call my brothers and my friends. But that does not mean I turn a blind eye or beat the drum and get on the bandwagon of all the cheap shots and subjective cat fights that Anthros crave and call life -  Oh I know what you are thinking.  What do you mean by cheap shots? 

      When Anthros literally draw their emotional interest and their emotional thrills from petty comments and feel that any subjective defense of their highly subjective  cowardice, wrapped in slogans of 'lets all be brothers and sisters'  let's love one another and bury our differences, when in reality the Michael School really stands on objective interest in the world not seeking their emotinal thrills from internal flame wars.  And like everything else in the world, there are older and intense streams swirling within Anthroposophy Herself.

      It is important for all of us in the Michael School to grasp how the mighty mill-wheel of the world and all the objective forces in nature and the heavens bring about objective cosmic feelings and objective cosmic facts. The world's wonders help shape the soul.  In other words a person like Aristotle, as a prime example,  didn't take the vast interest in all the worlds events just to spin his own egotistic web. Aristotle let the objective insights of the world shape his soul spiritual content into an objective vessel that could not only explore the external content of nature but stand objectively in the subjective soul world and hold the matter of the soul and spirit as an equal science to that of the processes of the world.  For students of Anthroposphy Aristotle and the karma of Anthroposophy reveal an individual ripened by the world's objective mysteries into a vessel of clarity and insight unsurpassed.

      When the STigamata makes one envious and jealous and doesn't evoke a line of thought that can really explore the Buddhistic and Shepherd values and weigh in on St. Francis and the relation of the two Jesus children as a fact of heart and mind, then those with lack of interest, because they are selfish and emotionally immature, have mistaken their own feeling for special goodness and special destiny against the facts of the world, fall back on petty, safe, and emotionally subjective argumentation, they then treat their emotional fog of goodness as cognitive courage.  Here the problem is that the emotional jealousy, envy and lack of objective interest in anything but whose side someone is on, the side of emotional immaturity, very transparent or interest in the phenomena of the world.

      We are sorry to inform those that relish and get their thrills of soul from  subjective emotional cat fights,  reveal exactly what they always were and always have been and are the source of the very bitter cracks in the whole Michael School that Steiner fought to root in the hearts of humanity.  Thusly proving to everyone that Michael insights are too potent and intense for those who relish merely simplistic he said/she said sympathy and antipathy responses. 

      Steiner  did not form his objective soul and science observations for the benefit of those who get a thrill out of riding the mood swings of sympathy and antipathy and wallowing like wild boars in their own prickly tusks of subjective emotionalism.  Oh yes, Adonis and the wild boar is certainly a Michael Mystery of autumn. Not that much updating or in depth comparison has been done to retranslate the ancient Adoni is dead mystery of Autmn.  But who would apply the tusk of the wild boar to the goring and gouging of such pagan emotional mysteries that equally apply to the inner soul disposition when, without self-reflection,  full of envy, jealousy and insecurity, the soul thinks petty wrangling is really dialogue. That esearch shared or depth of commitment to Spiritual Science is revealed in such high school gossippy behavior. 

      Dying Adonis

      The Dying Atunis/Adonis. 3rd cent. BC polychrome terra-cotta. Height max cm 62.0;length cm 89.0; width cm 40.5 Gregorian Etruscan Museum, Vatican, Rome,

      The emotional antics of the wild boar and un-reflected, unexamined subjective envies of the soul, who get their thrills by reacting in such petty infantile 'my toy, my ball, my feelings, my emotions, but who shy away from objective interest in anything that doesn't have to do with their little ring of subjective emotion, lack the humility to even see in a little corner of themselves  how destructive and ridiculous this appears to the vision of Michael Courage. Those unschooled fail to see the objective battle of reason that STeiner rolled out in detail after detail of the vast foundations of Spiritual Science and Soul Science.  That very soul self-observation is one of the most serious antidotes to all constant attraction to subjective emotionalism.

      Slogans like brothers and sisters love one another and emotional appeals meant to turn the attention away from the very obvious soul pettiness and strong desire to be loved, honored and respected in the school of Michael because, the slogans of love, brothers and sisters, get along and be at peace, really can only enrich the Michael School when honest self-observation is coupled with objective interest in the world. Objective interest in the world includes both matter and spirit on equal objective footing united with strong self observation and as has been pointed out, humor that we are so terribly, terribly flawed.

      God forbid we really understood the vast karmic and soul introspection that the dead fully experience.  I have had for some months a concern about my ole friend Paul Platt.  His death, among the many sincere and solid striving Anthros was far more intense and shattering, not only because he was a life long friend of my families, but because he was a sincere striving Anthro who felt every tingle of the objective starry universe sting him so severely, that the core of his subjective and bodily system, his honesty, could not bare the agony.  Now what kind of agony is that when we have a Stigmata event one side and one who violently releases himself from  the absolute agony of subjective pain?

      The Passion of Dr. Steiner and the Passion of standing in resolute clarity of knowledge and bringing Spiritual Science with the karmic and spiritual truth of Michael into the mangled and subjective hearts of humanity took and retains for itself an awful stigmata and crucifixion of Knowledge.  And the Passion of Michael stands looking in the world and confronting the vast hordes tossed out into the dimension of human heads, tossed out of the spiritual world into the soul dimension of human minds....and the Passion of Dr. Steiner in all his vast courage and humanness pierced with a passion into the fabric of objective reality and every human must and in great agony, must feel the betrayals, the stings, the wounds, the cracks in the society, and the cracks and eruptions within the Anthro Social sphere as part of  the petty emotional goring and thrill seeking hypocrisy wrapped in slogans that  STeiner himself had wrought. Steiner wrought phrases, thoughts and insights for the honesty and courage of the soul, that we all tend to use as our own private toilet paper and reduce via our own soul contents, reduce to our vain means, as merely wallpaper to pretty up our own petty soul standpoints. Myself included.

      I don't admire shallow striving.  I do admire Anthro courage, Anthro honesty and Anthro insight when it is not so obviously tied to unreflected lack of self-observation.  Yet this is how we all learn and this is also how we all helped put the Michael Impulse in the weak position it is in today. Steiner did not stand in the midst of the tremendous onslaught that he did because he was selfish and egotistic. Rather he was the sounding board for the world's deepest mysteries. And so should we be sounding boards to tackle any and all of the world's deepest mysteries and love the cognitive clarity that STeiner brought to humanity so that they could stand against the onslaughts.

      MELEAGER, ATALANTA & THE CALYDONIAN BOAR

      When Meleager was born, the Three Fates appeared before his mother, Queen Althaea of Calydon. Pointing to a log burning on the hearth, they told her Meleager would die as soon as it burned to ashes. To save her son, Althaea rushed to put out the fire. To make doubly sure he would never die, she hid the log in a chest, then buried the chest in a secret place.

      So Meleager grew up to be a warrior, both mighty and invulnerable. He couldn't be killed so long as that log stayed locked and buried in that chest. As a young man he accompanied Jason and the Argonauts in their quest for the Golden Fleece. But then he fell fatally in love with Atalanta, who was not only beautiful, but as strong and brave as any man. And that led to the fateful hunt for the Calydonian Boar.

      boar hunt det Francois



      In this detail from the top band of the famous Francois vase we see, not just any old boar hunt, but the hunting of the huge boar of Calydon. Because the king of that land, Oeneus, had failed to sacrifice to the virgin huntress Artemis, the goddess had sent this terrible beast to ravage his kingdom. "So huge was he," said Homer, "he had put many men on the sad fire for burning"(Iliad IX:546).

      boar hunt left 73k.jpg
      From left to right: spearers, Scythian archer, Atalanta, hounds, Meleager & Peleus.

      To save his kingdom, Oeneus called on the bravest heroes of Greece to come and kill the boar. He offered as a prize its tusks and hide. Among those who came were Theseus, Jason, Peleus, Nestor, and the fleet-footed virgin huntress Atalanta (a pretty obvious stand-in for Artemis herself). With her skin painted white in the custom of the ancient painters, Atalanta stands out as one of the few female figures on this otherwise all-male, all-black-figure vase. Beside her is Melanion (whose name means "black"), who later won HER as a prize in a footrace -- the first man to beat her, but only by tossing on the track three golden apples, given him by Aphrodite, that Atalanta stooped to gather. She wears a revealing robe, while most of the men wear animal hides. Her presence caused an uproar, with two hunters from her own land refusing to hunt with a woman, and the king's two brothers predicting disaster. Their objections were overriden by the king's married son, Meleager, whom Artemis had made fall in love with Atalanta. The result was a shambles.

      Armed with javelins and boar-spears, battle-axes and bows and arrows, the horde of over-eager trophy-hunters, each hot to claim the great hide for himself, fell over each other in mad pursuit of the boar. To restore some order to the chase, Meleager organized them into a half-moon search party, not unlike the semi-circular band of figures we see marching round the krater's rim. Note on the vase the two javelin throwers in the middle: they use the same type of finger-thong used by Olympic javelin throwers to impart spin, accuracy and distance to their throws. Before them, bending on one knee, is a Scythian archer in his tall pointed Scythian cap. Before him strides Atalanta, here bearing a boar-spear instead of the bow and arrow which the poets say she used -- first to shoot two centaurs (fellow hunters who tried to rape her in the woods) and then to wound the boar, to save two other hunters (Peleus and Telamon) who, tripped up by a tree root, had fallen before the charging boar.

      Others were not so lucky. Two hunters were killed by the boar, another hamstrung by it, a fourth (Nestor) driven up a tree. On the vase we see one hunter lying dead beneath the boar, while before it lies a dead dog labelled "Rouser" -- doubtless the lead hound who found and aroused the boar. Next come Meleager and Peleus, pointing their spears at the boar's snout, followed by Rouser's partner, a long hot-dog-shaped hound named "Chaser." According to the poets, javelins hurled by Jason, Theseus, and other heroes missed or merely grazed the boar. Peleus' spear also missed the boar and killed his countryman Eurytion. More mayhem, not shown here, ensued. One hero swung his battle-axe straight at the charging boar, but not fast enough: in an instant he lay castrated and disembowelled. At last, blinded by an arrrow, the boar was killed by Meleager, who skinned it and in a lover's haze fondly awarded its prized tusks and hide to Atalanta. When his outraged uncles protested, in a lover's rage Meleager killed them both.

      Althaea's revenge 15k.jpg

      When news of her brothers' deaths arrived at the palace, Queen Althaea was torn on the horns of a terrible dilemma: Should she avenge the death of her brothers by killing their killer? Or should she save her son's life? Rage tipped the scales. From its secret hiding place she took the fatal log and tossed it on the fire.

      When the last of its embers turned to ash, Atropis cut the thread of Meleager's life. And Althaea hanged herself. All this, to soothe the savage breast of Artemis?

    • holderlin66
      Adonais by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1803-1882) I weep for Adonais—he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a
      Message 2 of 14 , Oct 13, 2007

        Adonais

        by Percy Bysshe Shelley
        (1803-1882)


         

        I weep for Adonais—he is dead!
        O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
        Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
        And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
        To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,
        And teach them thine own sorrow, say: "With me
        Died Adonais; till the Future dares
        Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be
        An echo and a light unto eternity!"

        Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay,
        When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies
        In darkness? where was lorn Urania
        When Adonais died? With veiled eyes,
        Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise
        She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath,
        Rekindled all the fading melodies
        With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath,
        He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death.

        O, weep for Adonais—he is dead!
        Wake, melancholy Mother, wake and weep!
        Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning bed
        Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep
        Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep;
        For he is gone, where all things wise and fair
        Descend;—oh, dream not that the amorous Deep
        Will yet restore him to the vital air;
        Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.

           

         

        Most musical of mourners, weep again!
        Lament anew, Urania!—He died,
        Who was the Sire of an immortal strain,
        Blind, old, and lonely, when his country's pride,
        The priest, the slave, and the liberticide
        Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite
        Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified,
        Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite
        Yet reigns o'er earth; the third among the sons of light.

         

        Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
        Not all to that bright station dared to climb;
        And happier they their happiness who knew,
        Whose tapers yet burn through that night of time

        In which suns perished; others more sublime,
        Struck by the envious wrath of man or god,
        Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime;
        And some yet live, treading the thorny road
        Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode.

        But now, thy youngest, dearest one, has perished—
        The nursling of thy widowhood, who grew,
        Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished,
        And fed with true-love tears, instead of dew;
        Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
        Thy extreme hope, the loveliest and the last,
        The bloom, whose petals nipped before they blew
        Died on the promise of the fruit, is waste;
        The broken lily lies—the storm is overpast.

        To that high Capital, where kingly Death
        Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
        He came; and bought, with price of purest breath,
        A grave among the eternal.—
        Come away!
        Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day
        Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still
        He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay;
        Awake him not! surely he takes his fill
        Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill.

              

        He will awake no more, oh, never more!—
        Within the twilight chamber spreads apace
        The shadow of white Death, and at the door
        Invisible Corruption waits to trace
        His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place;
        The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
        Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to deface
        So fair a prey, till darkness, and the law
        Of change, shall o'er his sleep the mortal curtain draw.

        O, weep for Adonais!—The quick Dreams,
        The passion-winged Ministers of thought,
        Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams
        Of his young spirit he fed,
        and whom he taught
        The love which was its music, wander not,—
        Wander no more, from kindling brain to brain,
        But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot
        Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain,
        They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again.

        And one with trembling hands clasps his cold head,
        And fans him with her moonlight wings, and cries,
        "Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead;
        See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes,
        Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies
        A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain."
        Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise!
        She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain
        She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.

        One from a lucid urn of starry dew
        Washed his light limbs as if embalming them;
        Another clipped her profuse locks, and threw
        The wreath upon him, like an anadem,
        Which frozen tears instead of pearls begem;
        Another in her wilful grief would break
        Her bow and winged reeds, as if to stem
        A greater loss with one which was more weak;
        And dull the barbed fire against his frozen cheek.

        Another Splendour on his mouth alit,
        That mouth, whence it was wont to draw the breath
        Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit,
        And pass into the panting heart beneath
        With lightning and with music
        : the damp death
        Quenched its caress upon his icy lips;
        And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath
        Of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips,
        It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse.

        And others came... Desires and Adorations,
        Winged Persuasions and veiled Destinies,
        Splendours, and Glooms, and glimmering Incarnations
        Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies;
        And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs,
        And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
        Of her own dying smile instead of eyes,
        Came in slow pomp
        ;—the moving pomp might seem
        Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream.

         

        All he had loved, and moulded into thought,
        From shape, and hue, and odour, and sweet sound,
        Lamented Adonais. Morning sought
        Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound,
        Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground,
        Dimmed the aereal eyes that kindle day;
        Afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
        Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,
        And the wild Winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay.

        Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
        And feeds her grief with his remembered lay,
        And will no more reply to winds or fountains,
        Or amorous birds perched on the young green spray,
        Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing day;
        Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear
        Than those for whose disdain she pined away
        Into a shadow of all sounds:—a drear
        Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen hear.

        Grief made the young Spring wild, and she threw down
        Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were,
        Or they dead leaves; since her delight is flown,
        For whom should she have waked the sullen year?
        To Phoebus was not Hyacinth so dear
        Nor to himself Narcissus, as to both
        Thou, Adonais: wan they stand and sere
        Amid the faint companions of their youth,
        With dew all turned to tears; odour, to sighing ruth.

        Thy spirit's sister, the lorn nightingale
        Mourns not her mate with such melodious pain;
        Not so the eagle, who like thee could scale
        Heaven
        , and could nourish in the sun's domain
        Her mighty youth with morning, doth complain,
        Soaring and screaming round her empty nest,
        As Albion wails for thee: the curse of Cain
        Light on his head who pierced thy innocent breast,
        And scared the angel soul that was its earthly guest!

         

            

        Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone,
        But grief returns with the revolving year;
        The airs and streams renew their joyous tone;
        The ants, the bees, the swallows reappear;
        Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Season's bier;
        The amorous birds now pair in every brake,
        And build their mossy homes in field and brere;
        And the green lizard, and the golden snake,
        Like unimprisoned flames, out of their trance awake.

        Through wood and stream and field and hill and Ocean
        A quickening life from the Earth's heart has burst
        As it has ever done, with change and motion,
        From the great morning of the world when first
        God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed,
        The lamps of Heaven flash with a softer light;
        All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst;
        Diffuse themselves; and spend in love's delight
        The beauty and the joy of their renewed might.

        The leprous corpse, touched by this spirit tender,
        Exhales itself in flowers of gentle breath;
        Like incarnations of the stars, when splendour
        Is changed to fragrance, they illumine death
        And mock the merry worm that wakes beneath;
        Nought we know, dies. Shall that alone which knows
        Be as a sword consumed before the sheath
        By sightless lightning?—the intense atom glows
        A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.

        Alas! that all we loved of him should be,
        But for our grief, as if it had not been,
        And grief itself be mortal! Woe is me!
        Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene
        The actors or spectators?
        Great and mean
        Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow.
        As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
        Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
        Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.

           

        He will awake no more, oh, never more!
        "Wake thou," cried Misery, "childless Mother, rise
        Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core,
        A wound more fierce than his with tears and sighs."
        And all the Dreams that watched Urania's eyes,
        And all the Echoes whom their sister's song
        Had held in holy silence, cried: "Arise!"
        Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung,
        From her ambrosial rest the fading Splendour sprung.

        She rose like an autumnal Night, that springs
        Our of the East, and follows wild and drear
        The golden Day, which, on eternal wings,
        Even as a ghost abandoning a bier,
        Had left the Earth a corpse. Sorrow and fear
        So struck, so roused, so rapt Urania;
        So saddened round her like an atmosphere
        Of stormy mist; so swept her on her way
        Even to the mournful place where Adonais lay.

        Our of her secret Paradise she sped,
        Through camps and cities rough with stone, and steel,
        And human hearts, which to her aery tread
        Yielding not, wounded the invisible
        Palms of her tender feet where'er they fell:
        And barbed tongues, and thoughts more sharp than they,
        Rent the soft Form they never could repel,
        Whose sacred blood, like the young tears of May,
        Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way.

           

        In the death-chamber for a moment Death,
        Shamed by the presence of that living Might,
        Blushed to annihilation, and the breath
        Revisited those lips, and Life's pale light
        Flashed through those limbs, so late her dear delight.
        "Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
        As silent lightning leaves the starless night!
        Leave me not!"
        cried Urania: her distress
        Roused Death: Death rose and smiled, and met her vain caress.

        "'Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again;
        Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live;
        And in my heartless breast and burning brain
        That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else survive
        ,
        With food of saddest memory kept alive,
        Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
        Of thee, my Adonais! I would give
        All that I am to be as thou now art!
        But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart!

         

        "O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert,
        Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men
        Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart
        Dare the unpastured dragon in his den?
        Defenceless as thou wert, oh, where was then
        Wisdom the mirrored shield, or scorn the spear?
        Or hadst thou waited the full cycle, when
        Thy spirit should have filled its crescent sphere,
        The monsters of life's waste had fled from thee like deer.

         

        "The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;
        The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead;
        The vultures to the conqueror's banner true
        Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
        And whose wings rain contagion
        ;—how they fled,
        When, like Apollo, from his golden bow
        The Pythian of the age one arrow sped
        And smiled!—The spoilers tempt no second blow,
        They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them lying low.

        "The sun comes forth, and many reptiles spawn;
        He sets, and each ephemeral insect then
        Is gathered into death without a dawn,
        And the immortal stars awake again;
        So is it in the world of living men:
        A godlike mind soars forth, in its delight
        Making earth bare and veiling heaven, and when
        It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its light
        Leave to its kindred lamps the spirit's awful night."

        Thus ceased she: and the mountain shepherds came,
        Their garlands sere, their magic mantles rent;
        The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
        Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
        An early but enduring monument,
        Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
        In sorrow; from her wilds Irene sent
        The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong,
        And Love taught Grief to fall like music from his tongue.

         

        Midst others of less note, came one frail Form,
        A phantom among men; companionless
        As the last cloud of an expiring storm
        Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,
        Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness,
        Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray
        With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness,
        And his own thoughts, along that rugged way,
        Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.

        A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift—
        A Love in desolation masked;—a Power
        Girt round with weakness;—it can scarce uplift
        The weight of the superincumbent hour;
        It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
        A breaking billow;—even whilst we speak
        Is it not broken? On the withering flower
        The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek
        The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.

        His head was bound with pansies overblown,
        And faded violets, white, and pied, and blue;
        And a light spear topped with a cypress cone,
        Round whose rude shaft dark ivy-tresses grew
        Yet dripping with the forest's noonday dew,
        Vibrated, as the ever-beating heart
        Shook the weak hand that grasped it; of that crew
        He came the last, neglected and apart;
        A herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's dart.

        All stood aloof, and at his partial moan
        Smiled through their tears; well knew that gentle band
        Who in another's fate now wept his own,
        As in the accents of an unknown land
        He sung new sorrow; sad Urania scanned
        The Stranger's mien, and murmured: "Who art thou?"
        He answered not, but with a sudden hand
        Made bare his branded and ensanguined brow,
        Which was like Cain's or Christ's—oh! that it should be so!

        What softer voice is hushed over the dead?
        Athwart what brow is that dark mantle thrown?
        What form leans sadly o'er the white death-bed,
        In mockery of monumental stone,
        The heavy heart heaving without a moan?
        If it be He, who, gentlest of the wise,
        Taught, soothed, loved, honoured the departed one,
        Let me not vex, with inharmonious sighs,
        The silence of that heart's accepted sacrifice.

        Our Adonais has drunk poison—oh!
        What deaf and viperous murderer could crown
        Life's early cup with such a draught of woe
        ?
        The nameless worm would now itself disown:
        It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone
        Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong,
        But what was howling in one breast alone,
        Silent with expectation of the song,
        Whose master's hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.

        Live thou, whose infamy is not thy fame!
        Live! fear no heavier chastisement from me,
        Thou noteless blot on a remembered name!
        But be thyself, and know thyself to be!
        And ever at thy season be thou free
        To spill the venom when thy fangs o'erflow:
        Remorse and Self-contempt shall cling to thee;
        Hot Shame shall burn upon thy secret brow,
        And like a beaten hound tremble thou shalt—as now.

        Nor let us weep that our delight is fled
        Far from these carrion kites that scream below;
        He wakes or sleeps with the enduring dead;
        Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now—
        Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow
        Back to the burning fountain whence it came,

        A portion of the Eternal, which must glow
        Through time and change, unquenchably the same,
        Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of shame.

        Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
        He hath awakened from the dream of life—
        'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
        With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
        And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife
        Invulnerable nothings
        .—We decay
        Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
        Convulse us and consume us day by day,
        And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

        He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
        Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
        And that unrest which men miscall delight
        ,
        Can touch him not and torture not again;
        From the contagion of the world's slow stain
        He is secure, and now can never mourn
        A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain;
        Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn,
        With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.

        He lives, he wakes—'tis Death is dead, not he;
        Mourn not for Adonais.—Thou young Dawn,
        Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
        The spirit thou lamentest is not gone;
        Ye caverns and ye forests, cease to moan!
        Cease, ye faint flowers and fountains, and thou Air
        Which like a mourning veil thy scarf hadst thrown
        O'er the abandoned Earth, now leave it bare
        Even to the joyous stars which smile on its despair!

        He is made one with Nature: there is heard
        His voice in all her music, from the moan
        Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;
        He is a presence to be felt and known
        In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,
        Spreading itself where'er that Power may move
        Which has withdrawn his being to its own;
        Which wields the world with never-wearied love,
        Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.

        He is a portion of the loveliness
        Which once he made more lovely: he doth bear
        His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress
        Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there
        All new successions to the forms they wear;
        Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight
        To its own likeness, as each mass may bear;
        And bursting in its beauty and its might
        From trees and beasts and men into the Heavens' light.

        The splendours of the firmament of time
        May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not;
        Like stars to their appointed height they climb,
        And death is a low mist which cannot blot
        The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought
        Lifts a young heart above its mortal lair,
        And love and life contend in it, for what
        Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there
        And move like winds of light on dark and stormy air.

        The inheritors of unfulfilled renown
        Rose from their thrones, built beyond mortal thought,
        Far in the Unapparent. Chatterton
        Rose pale,—his solemn agony had not
        Yet faded from him; Sidney, as he fought
        And as he fell and as he lived and loved
        Sublimely mild, a Spirit without spot,
        Arose; and Lucan, by his death approved:
        Oblivion as they rose shrank like a thing reproved.

        And many more, whose names on Earth are dark,
        But whose transmitted effluence cannot die
        So long as fire outlives the parent spark,
        Rose, robed in dazzling immortality.
        "Thou art become as one of us," they cry,
        "It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long
        Swung blind in unascended majesty,
        Silent alone amid an Heaven of Song.
        Assume thy winged throne, thou Vesper of our throng!"

        Who mourns for Adonais? Oh, come forth,
        Fond wretch! and know thyself and him aright.
        Clasp with thy panting soul the pendulous Earth;
        As from a centre, dart thy spirit's light
        Beyond all worlds
        , until its spacious might
        Satiate the void circumference: then shrink
        Even to a point within our day and night;
        And keep thy heart light lest it make thee sink
        When hope has kindled hope, and lured thee to the brink.

        Or go to Rome, which is the sepulchre,
        Oh, not of him, but of our joy: 'tis nought
        That ages, empires, and religions there
        Lie buried in the ravage they have wrought;
        For such as he can lend,—they borrow not
        Glory from those who made the world their prey;
        And he is gathered to the kings of thought
        Who waged contention with their time's decay,
        And of the past are all that cannot pass away.

        Go thou to Rome,—at once the Paradise,
        The grave, the city, and the wilderness;
        And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise,
        And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress
        The bones of Desolation's nakedness
        Pass, till the spirit of the spot shall lead
        Thy footsteps to a slope of green access
        Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead
        A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread;

        And grey walls moulder round, on which dull Time
        Feeds, like slow fire upon a hoary brand;
        And one keen pyramid with wedge sublime,
        Pavilioning the dust of him who planned
        This refuge for his memory, doth stand
        Like flame transformed to marble; and beneath,
        A field is spread, on which a newer band
        Have pitched in Heaven's smile their camp of death,
        Welcoming him we lose with scarce extinguished breath.

        Here pause: these graves are all too young as yet
        To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned
        Its charge to each; and if the seal is set,
        Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind,
        Break it not thou! too surely shalt thou find
        Thine own well full, if thou returnest home,
        Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind
        Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb.
        What Adonais is, why fear we to become?

        The One remains, the many change and pass;
        Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;
        Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
        Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
        Until Death tramples it to fragments.—Die,
        If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek!
        Follow where all is fled!—Rome's azure sky,
        Flowers, ruins, statues, music, words, are weak
        The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak.

        Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my Heart?
        Thy hopes are gone before: from all things here
        They have departed; thou shouldst now depart!
        A light is passed from the revolving year,
        And man, and woman; and what still is dear
        Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither.
        The soft sky smiles,—the low wind whispers near:
        'Tis Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither,
        No more let Life divide what Death can join together.

        That Light whose smile kindles the Universe,
        That Beauty in which all things work and move,
        That Benediction which the eclipsing Curse
        Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love
        Which through the web of being blindly wove
        By man and beast and earth and air and sea,
        Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of
        The fire for which all thirst
        , now beams on me,
        Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.

        The breath whose might I have invoked in song
        Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven
        Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng
        Whose sails were never to the tempest given;
        The massy earth and sphered skies are riven!
        I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar;
        Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of Heaven,
        The soul of Adonais, like a star,
        Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.

      • carol
        Would you permit me a little Raphael? As much as this set up will allow me to express it? ...And all the Dreams that watched Urania s eyes, And all the
        Message 3 of 14 , Oct 13, 2007

          Would you permit me a little Raphael? As much as this set up will allow me to express it?

          ''...And all the Dreams that watched Urania's eyes,
          And all the Echoes whom their sister's song
          Had held in holy silence, cried: "Arise!"
          Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung,
          From her ambrosial rest the fading
          Splendour sprung...''

          It was an interesting experience, reading the poem.  It brought to mind the concept of the "unspeakable".  I think something gets 'lost' when the unspeakable is brought forward, and overtakes the traditional esoteric use of the symbol. 

          I also like Raphael's artistic approach.  He was able to drape a delicately glowing etheric Christic clothe over all his interpretive attempts.  Percy B Shelley and Bradford most definitely have a message to convey and I beleive it reposes within an extremely sublime collective soul sheath.  And, although I recognise the value and importance of the effort,  I feel there is danger in the act of raising the sense to it's content without calling upon greater Christic forces of the same origin.

          I think, as the personnage at source,  Rudolf Steiner synthesized both of these.

          But, he was not 100% safe.

          C.

           

           

           


          --- In anthroposophy@yahoogroups.com, "holderlin66" <holderlin66@...> wrote:
          >
          >
          > Adonais
          > by Percy Bysshe Shelley
          > (1803-1882)
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > I weep for Adonais—he is dead!
          > O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
          > Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
          > And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
          > To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,
          > And teach them thine own sorrow, say: "With me
          > Died Adonais; till the Future dares
          > Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be
          > An echo and a light unto eternity!"
          >
          > Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay,
          > When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies
          > In darkness? where was lorn Urania
          > When Adonais died? With veiled eyes,
          > Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise
          > She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath,
          > Rekindled all the fading melodies
          > With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath,
          > He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death.
          >
          > O, weep for Adonais—he is dead!
          > Wake, melancholy Mother, wake and weep!
          > Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning bed
          > Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep
          > Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep;
          > For he is gone, where all things wise and fair
          > Descend;—oh, dream not that the amorous Deep
          > Will yet restore him to the vital air;
          > Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > Most musical of mourners, weep again!
          > Lament anew, Urania!—He died,
          > Who was the Sire of an immortal strain,
          > Blind, old, and lonely, when his country's pride,
          > The priest, the slave, and the liberticide
          > Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite
          > Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified,
          > Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite
          > Yet reigns o'er earth; the third among the sons of light.
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
          > Not all to that bright station dared to climb;
          > And happier they their happiness who knew,
          > Whose tapers yet burn through that night of time
          > In which suns perished; others more sublime,
          > Struck by the envious wrath of man or god,
          > Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime;
          > And some yet live, treading the thorny road
          > Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode.
          >
          > But now, thy youngest, dearest one, has perished—
          > The nursling of thy widowhood, who grew,
          > Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished,
          > And fed with true-love tears, instead of dew;
          > Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
          > Thy extreme hope, the loveliest and the last,
          > The bloom, whose petals nipped before they blew
          > Died on the promise of the fruit, is waste;
          > The broken lily lies—the storm is overpast.
          >
          > To that high Capital, where kingly Death
          > Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
          > He came; and bought, with price of purest breath,
          > A grave among the eternal.—Come away!
          > Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day
          > Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still
          > He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay;
          > Awake him not! surely he takes his fill
          > Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill.
          >
          >
          > <http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.janakastagnaro.com/ru\
          > dolfsteiner.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.janakastagnaro.com/satsangentrance.\
          > html&h=2272&w=1704&sz=1001&hl=en&start=116&um=1&tbnid=0Mw9GetMCNENSM:&tb\
          > nh=150&tbnw=113&prev=/images%3Fq%3DRudolf%2BSteiner%26start%3D100%26ndsp\
          > %3D20%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN>
          >
          > He will awake no more, oh, never more!—
          > Within the twilight chamber spreads apace
          > The shadow of white Death, and at the door
          > Invisible Corruption waits to trace
          > His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place;
          > The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
          > Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to deface
          > So fair a prey, till darkness, and the law
          > Of change, shall o'er his sleep the mortal curtain draw.
          >
          > O, weep for Adonais!—The quick Dreams,
          > The passion-winged Ministers of thought,
          > Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams
          > Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he taught
          > The love which was its music, wander not,—
          > Wander no more, from kindling brain to brain,
          > But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot
          > Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain,
          > They ne'er will gather strength, or find a home again.
          >
          > And one with trembling hands clasps his cold head,
          > And fans him with her moonlight wings, and cries,
          > "Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead;
          > See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes,
          > Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies
          > A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain."
          > Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise!
          > She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain
          > She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
          >
          > One from a lucid urn of starry dew
          > Washed his light limbs as if embalming them;
          > Another clipped her profuse locks, and threw
          > The wreath upon him, like an anadem,
          > Which frozen tears instead of pearls begem;
          > Another in her wilful grief would break
          > Her bow and winged reeds, as if to stem
          > A greater loss with one which was more weak;
          > And dull the barbed fire against his frozen cheek.
          >
          > Another Splendour on his mouth alit,
          > That mouth, whence it was wont to draw the breath
          > Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit,
          > And pass into the panting heart beneath
          > With lightning and with music: the damp death
          > Quenched its caress upon his icy lips;
          > And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath
          > Of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips,
          > It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse.
          >
          > And others came... Desires and Adorations,
          > Winged Persuasions and veiled Destinies,
          > Splendours, and Glooms, and glimmering Incarnations
          > Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies;
          > And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs,
          > And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
          > Of her own dying smile instead of eyes,
          > Came in slow pomp;—the moving pomp might seem
          > Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream.
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > All he had loved, and moulded into thought,
          > From shape, and hue, and odour, and sweet sound,
          > Lamented Adonais. Morning sought
          > Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound,
          > Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground,
          > Dimmed the aereal eyes that kindle day;
          > Afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
          > Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,
          > And the wild Winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay.
          >
          > Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
          > And feeds her grief with his remembered lay,
          > And will no more reply to winds or fountains,
          > Or amorous birds perched on the young green spray,
          > Or herdsman's horn, or bell at closing day;
          > Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear
          > Than those for whose disdain she pined away
          > Into a shadow of all sounds:—a drear
          > Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen hear.
          >
          > Grief made the young Spring wild, and she threw down
          > Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were,
          > Or they dead leaves; since her delight is flown,
          > For whom should she have waked the sullen year?
          > To Phoebus was not Hyacinth so dear
          > Nor to himself Narcissus, as to both
          > Thou, Adonais: wan they stand and sere
          > Amid the faint companions of their youth,
          > With dew all turned to tears; odour, to sighing ruth.
          >
          > Thy spirit's sister, the lorn nightingale
          > Mourns not her mate with such melodious pain;
          > Not so the eagle, who like thee could scale
          > Heaven, and could nourish in the sun's domain
          > Her mighty youth with morning, doth complain,
          > Soaring and screaming round her empty nest,
          > As Albion wails for thee: the curse of Cain
          > Light on his head who pierced thy innocent breast,
          > And scared the angel soul that was its earthly guest!
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone,
          > But grief returns with the revolving year;
          > The airs and streams renew their joyous tone;
          > The ants, the bees, the swallows reappear;
          > Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Season's bier;
          > The amorous birds now pair in every brake,
          > And build their mossy homes in field and brere;
          > And the green lizard, and the golden snake,
          > Like unimprisoned flames, out of their trance awake.
          >
          > Through wood and stream and field and hill and Ocean
          > A quickening life from the Earth's heart has burst
          > As it has ever done, with change and motion,
          > From the great morning of the world when first
          > God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed,
          > The lamps of Heaven flash with a softer light;
          > All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst;
          > Diffuse themselves; and spend in love's delight
          > The beauty and the joy of their renewed might.
          >
          > The leprous corpse, touched by this spirit tender,
          > Exhales itself in flowers of gentle breath;
          > Like incarnations of the stars, when splendour
          > Is changed to fragrance, they illumine death
          > And mock the merry worm that wakes beneath;
          > Nought we know, dies. Shall that alone which knows
          > Be as a sword consumed before the sheath
          > By sightless lightning?—the intense atom glows
          > A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.
          >
          > Alas! that all we loved of him should be,
          > But for our grief, as if it had not been,
          > And grief itself be mortal! Woe is me!
          > Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene
          > The actors or spectators? Great and mean
          > Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow.
          > As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
          > Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
          > Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.
          >
          >
          >
          > He will awake no more, oh, never more!
          > "Wake thou," cried Misery, "childless Mother, rise
          > Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core,
          > A wound more fierce than his with tears and sighs."
          > And all the Dreams that watched Urania's eyes,
          > And all the Echoes whom their sister's song
          > Had held in holy silence, cried: "Arise!"
          > Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung,
          > From her ambrosial rest the fading Splendour sprung.
          >
          > She rose like an autumnal Night, that springs
          > Our of the East, and follows wild and drear
          > The golden Day, which, on eternal wings,
          > Even as a ghost abandoning a bier,
          > Had left the Earth a corpse. Sorrow and fear
          > So struck, so roused, so rapt Urania;
          > So saddened round her like an atmosphere
          > Of stormy mist; so swept her on her way
          > Even to the mournful place where Adonais lay.
          >
          > Our of her secret Paradise she sped,
          > Through camps and cities rough with stone, and steel,
          > And human hearts, which to her aery tread
          > Yielding not, wounded the invisible
          > Palms of her tender feet where'er they fell:
          > And barbed tongues, and thoughts more sharp than they,
          > Rent the soft Form they never could repel,
          > Whose sacred blood, like the young tears of May,
          > Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way.
          >
          >
          >
          > In the death-chamber for a moment Death,
          > Shamed by the presence of that living Might,
          > Blushed to annihilation, and the breath
          > Revisited those lips, and Life's pale light
          > Flashed through those limbs, so late her dear delight.
          > "Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
          > As silent lightning leaves the starless night!
          > Leave me not!" cried Urania: her distress
          > Roused Death: Death rose and smiled, and met her vain caress.
          >
          > "'Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again;
          > Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live;
          > And in my heartless breast and burning brain
          > That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else survive,
          > With food of saddest memory kept alive,
          > Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
          > Of thee, my Adonais! I would give
          > All that I am to be as thou now art!
          > But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart!
          >
          >
          >
          > "O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert,
          > Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men
          > Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart
          > Dare the unpastured dragon in his den?
          > Defenceless as thou wert, oh, where was then
          > Wisdom the mirrored shield, or scorn the spear?
          > Or hadst thou waited the full cycle, when
          > Thy spirit should have filled its crescent sphere,
          > The monsters of life's waste had fled from thee like deer.
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > "The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;
          > The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead;
          > The vultures to the conqueror's banner true
          > Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
          > And whose wings rain contagion;—how they fled,
          > When, like Apollo, from his golden bow
          > The Pythian of the age one arrow sped
          > And smiled!—The spoilers tempt no second blow,
          > They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them lying low.
          >
          > "The sun comes forth, and many reptiles spawn;
          > He sets, and each ephemeral insect then
          > Is gathered into death without a dawn,
          > And the immortal stars awake again;
          > So is it in the world of living men:
          > A godlike mind soars forth, in its delight
          > Making earth bare and veiling heaven, and when
          > It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its light
          > Leave to its kindred lamps the spirit's awful night."
          >
          > Thus ceased she: and the mountain shepherds came,
          > Their garlands sere, their magic mantles rent;
          > The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
          > Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
          > An early but enduring monument,
          > Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
          > In sorrow; from her wilds Irene sent
          > The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong,
          > And Love taught Grief to fall like music from his tongue.
          >
          >
          >
          >
          >
          > Midst others of less note, came one frail Form,
          > A phantom among men; companionless
          > As the last cloud of an expiring storm
          > Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,
          > Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness,
          > Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray
          > With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness,
          > And his own thoughts, along that rugged way,
          > Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
          >
          > A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift—
          > A Love in desolation masked;—a Power
          > Girt round with weakness;—it can scarce uplift
          > The weight of the superincumbent hour;
          > It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
          > A breaking billow;—even whilst we speak
          > Is it not broken? On the withering flower
          > The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek
          > The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.
          >
          > His head was bound with pansies overblown,
          > And faded violets, white, and pied, and blue;
          > And a light spear topped with a cypress cone,
          > Round whose rude shaft dark ivy-tresses grew
          > Yet dripping with the forest's noonday dew,
          > Vibrated, as the ever-beating heart
          > Shook the weak hand that grasped it; of that crew
          > He came the last, neglected and apart;
          > A herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's dart.
          >
          > All stood aloof, and at his partial moan
          > Smiled through their tears; well knew that gentle band
          > Who in another's fate now wept his own,
          > As in the accents of an unknown land
          > He sung new sorrow; sad Urania scanned
          > The Stranger's mien, and murmured: "Who art thou?"
          > He answered not, but with a sudden hand
          > Made bare his branded and ensanguined brow,
          > Which was like Cain's or Christ's—oh! that it should be so!
          >
          > What softer voice is hushed over the dead?
          > Athwart what brow is that dark mantle thrown?
          > What form leans sadly o'er the white death-bed,
          > In mockery of monumental stone,
          > The heavy heart heaving without a moan?
          > If it be He, who, gentlest of the wise,
          > Taught, soothed, loved, honoured the departed one,
          > Let me not vex, with inharmonious sighs,
          > The silence of that heart's accepted sacrifice.
          >
          > Our Adonais has drunk poison—oh!
          > What deaf and viperous murderer could crown
          > Life's early cup with such a draught of woe?
          > The nameless worm would now itself disown:
          > It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone
          > Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong,
          > But what was howling in one breast alone,
          > Silent with expectation of the song,
          > Whose master's hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.
          >
          > Live thou, whose infamy is not thy fame!
          > Live! fear no heavier chastisement from me,
          > Thou noteless blot on a remembered name!
          > But be thyself, and know thyself to be!
          > And ever at thy season be thou free
          > To spill the venom when thy fangs o'erflow:
          > Remorse and Self-contempt shall cling to thee;
          > Hot Shame shall burn upon thy secret brow,
          > And like a beaten hound tremble thou shalt—as now.
          >
          > Nor let us weep that our delight is fled
          > Far from these carrion kites that scream below;
          > He wakes or sleeps with the enduring dead;
          > Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now—
          > Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow
          > Back to the burning fountain whence it came,
          > A portion of the Eternal, which must glow
          > Through time and change, unquenchably the same,
          > Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of shame.
          >
          > Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
          > He hath awakened from the dream of life—
          > 'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
          > With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
          > And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife
          > Invulnerable nothings.—We decay
          > Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
          > Convulse us and consume us day by day,
          > And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
          >
          > He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
          > Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
          > And that unrest which men miscall delight,
          > Can touch him not and torture not again;
          > From the contagion of the world's slow stain
          > He is secure, and now can never mourn
          > A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain;
          > Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn,
          > With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
          >
          > He lives, he wakes—'tis Death is dead, not he;
          > Mourn not for Adonais.—Thou young Dawn,
          > Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
          > The spirit thou lamentest is not gone;
          > Ye caverns and ye forests, cease to moan!
          > Cease, ye faint flowers and fountains, and thou Air
          > Which like a mourning veil thy scarf hadst thrown
          > O'er the abandoned Earth, now leave it bare
          > Even to the joyous stars which smile on its despair!
          >
          > He is made one with Nature: there is heard
          > His voice in all her music, from the moan
          > Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;
          > He is a presence to be felt and known
          > In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,
          > Spreading itself where'er that Power may move
          > Which has withdrawn his being to its own;
          > Which wields the world with never-wearied love,
          > Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
          >
          >
          >
          > He is a portion of the loveliness
          > Which once he made more lovely: he doth bear
          > His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress
          > Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there
          > All new successions to the forms they wear;
          > Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight
          > To its own likeness, as each mass may bear;
          > And bursting in its beauty and its might
          > From trees and beasts and men into the Heavens' light.
          >
          > The splendours of the firmament of time
          > May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not;
          > Like stars to their appointed height they climb,
          > And death is a low mist which cannot blot
          > The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought
          > Lifts a young heart above its mortal lair,
          > And love and life contend in it, for what
          > Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there
          > And move like winds of light on dark and stormy air.
          >
          > The inheritors of unfulfilled renown
          > Rose from their thrones, built beyond mortal thought,
          > Far in the Unapparent. Chatterton
          > Rose pale,—his solemn agony had not
          > Yet faded from him; Sidney, as he fought
          > And as he fell and as he lived and loved
          > Sublimely mild, a Spirit without spot,
          > Arose; and Lucan, by his death approved:
          > Oblivion as they rose shrank like a thing reproved.
          >
          > And many more, whose names on Earth are dark,
          > But whose transmitted effluence cannot die
          > So long as fire outlives the parent spark,
          > Rose, robed in dazzling immortality.
          > "Thou art become as one of us," they cry,
          > "It was for thee yon kingless sphere has long
          > Swung blind in unascended majesty,
          > Silent alone amid an Heaven of Song.
          > Assume thy winged throne, thou Vesper of our throng!"
          >
          > Who mourns for Adonais? Oh, come forth,
          > Fond wretch! and know thyself and him aright.
          > Clasp with thy panting soul the pendulous Earth;
          > As from a centre, dart thy spirit's light
          > Beyond all worlds, until its spacious might
          > Satiate the void circumference: then shrink
          > Even to a point within our day and night;
          > And keep thy heart light lest it make thee sink
          > When hope has kindled hope, and lured thee to the brink.
          >
          >
          >
          > Or go to Rome, which is the sepulchre,
          > Oh, not of him, but of our joy: 'tis nought
          > That ages, empires, and religions there
          > Lie buried in the ravage they have wrought;
          > For such as he can lend,—they borrow not
          > Glory from those who made the world their prey;
          > And he is gathered to the kings of thought
          > Who waged contention with their time's decay,
          > And of the past are all that cannot pass away.
          >
          > Go thou to Rome,—at once the Paradise,
          > The grave, the city, and the wilderness;
          > And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise,
          > And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress
          > The bones of Desolation's nakedness
          > Pass, till the spirit of the spot shall lead
          > Thy footsteps to a slope of green access
          > Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead
          > A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread;
          >
          > And grey walls moulder round, on which dull Time
          > Feeds, like slow fire upon a hoary brand;
          > And one keen pyramid with wedge sublime,
          > Pavilioning the dust of him who planned
          > This refuge for his memory, doth stand
          > Like flame transformed to marble; and beneath,
          > A field is spread, on which a newer band
          > Have pitched in Heaven's smile their camp of death,
          > Welcoming him we lose with scarce extinguished breath.
          >
          > Here pause: these graves are all too young as yet
          > To have outgrown the sorrow which consigned
          > Its charge to each; and if the seal is set,
          > Here, on one fountain of a mourning mind,
          > Break it not thou! too surely shalt thou find
          > Thine own well full, if thou returnest home,
          > Of tears and gall. From the world's bitter wind
          > Seek shelter in the shadow of the tomb.
          > What Adonais is, why fear we to become?
          >
          > The One remains, the many change and pass;
          > Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;
          > Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
          > Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
          > Until Death tramples it to fragments.—Die,
          > If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek!
          > Follow where all is fled!—Rome's azure sky,
          > Flowers, ruins, statues, music, words, are weak
          > The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak.
          >
          > Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my Heart?
          > Thy hopes are gone before: from all things here
          > They have departed; thou shouldst now depart!
          > A light is passed from the revolving year,
          > And man, and woman; and what still is dear
          > Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither.
          > The soft sky smiles,—the low wind whispers near:
          > 'Tis Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither,
          > No more let Life divide what Death can join together.
          >
          >
          >
          > That Light whose smile kindles the Universe,
          > That Beauty in which all things work and move,
          > That Benediction which the eclipsing Curse
          > Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love
          > Which through the web of being blindly wove
          > By man and beast and earth and air and sea,
          > Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of
          > The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me,
          > Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.
          >
          >
          >
          > The breath whose might I have invoked in song
          > Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven
          > Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng
          > Whose sails were never to the tempest given;
          > The massy earth and sphered skies are riven!
          > I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar;
          > Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of Heaven,
          > The soul of Adonais, like a star,
          > Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
          >

        • holderlin66
          R.S. From the manifold festivals of ancient time, we may select for an example the Adonis festival. Through long, long periods of pre-Christian antiquity this
          Message 4 of 14 , Oct 14, 2007

             

            R.S.

            "From the manifold festivals of ancient time, we may select for an example the Adonis festival. Through long, long periods of pre-Christian antiquity this festival was celebrated among certain peoples of Asia Minor. A sacred image was the central point of the festival. It was an image of Adonis — Adonis as the spiritual representative of all that is the springing and thriving force of youth in man, of all that appears as beauty in the human being. "

            http://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA/GA0233/19240419p01.html

             


            Adonis, 70 x 90 cm, Oil on canvas, 2005

            R.S.

            "In ancient times there were indeed some peoples who were more Autumn peoples, and others who were more Springtime peoples. Within the Autumn peoples there were the Mysteries of Adonis, while in the Springtime peoples there were other Mysteries related to what I have described today. And only those seekers after knowledge of whom it is truly related how they journeyed from place to place, from one Mystery to another, like Pythagoras, only they underwent the real totality of human experience. From a place of the Mysteries where they could behold the Autumn secret which is the real secret of the Sun, they wandered to another place where they could behold the Springtime secret, that is the secret of the Moon. Hence of the greatest Initiates of ancient times it is again and again related how they wandered from one place to another of the Mysteries. And we may truly say that those old Initiates in a certain sense experienced the year in their inner life, the year with its sacred Festivities. An old Initiate might say: "When I come to such and such a place where Adonis Festivals are celebrated, I behold the cosmic Autumn, the shining of the spiritual Sun in the beginning of the night of Winter." And as he came to another place where the Springtime Mysteries were celebrated, he would say: "Now I shall witness the secret of the Moon." Thus in his inner life he learned to know that which determines the whole meaning of the year.

            Bradford's commentary;

            The term Adonis the hunkly studs, who are now termed Adonis' steroid, weightlifting, hunks, certainly have morphed as all mysteries and all ancient mysteries have morphed in meaning. True that Adonis really was the kind of mirroring we have brought up on this list many, many times, a mirror between Aphrodite and Adonis as the model, we know the model for Aphrodite can be worked with as deeply as Christian Rosenkreuz tale of encountering Venus Naked -  Rosenkreuz witnessing the interior workings of the cosmic Endocrine system that supports the entire system of love in the biology of human beings - to- and we certainly must add the unfallen aspects, the unfallen forces, the innocent and cosmic forces of the unfallen Adam. 

            Hummm, the unfallen Adam and the intricate workings of the cosmic endorcrine system, Naked Venus, which Christian Rosenkreuz encounters in the tale of the Alchemical Wedding of Christiian Rosenkreuz and how we understand Aphrodite and Venus as the intimate workings of the microcosmic endocrine system and also our love for the external form of females -  Which, like the external form of  males or Adonis -  These external forms are truly the hidden forms of how we grasp the Male etheric body as Venus and the female etheric body, the perfect female etheric body as truly the Adonis, or the unwritten and awaiting text of a female Christina Rosenbloom who discovers Adonis naked instead of Venus Naked, the Alchymical marriage of Christina Rosenblossom - who actually sees Adonis naked, which is the same reaction Christian Rosenkreuz had, seeing Venus Naked.

            Seeing Adonis naked, in a microcosmic aspect is to see the female etheric body. That is when a female sees her own etheric body, as a male and sees the shimmering Adonis in herself.  If only our same sex attractions could see exactly what they are struggling with in the images that they encounter in their being. But alas we remain cowardly and immature so that somehow Anthros avoid these common, very common issues that have arisen as distortions of etheric perception.

            All these perceptions are all highly important sensual bridges where we encounter in the Adonis mystery, the decay and death of the external bodily systems, autumn, and death and decay, but also the inward awakening of the Etheric Living Sun and cognitive forces of the soul and spirit in contrast. In other words we restore to our souls the true Adonis Mysteries. 

            Men and Women have, as anyone can easily see, merged erotic porn as the portal to either their fleshy image of Adonis or their fleshy image of Venus and Aphrodite.  The subject rarely outgrows or integrates deeper and more keen perceptions, because you see, by the nature of same sex insights, we know, we know that the intimate workings of the deeper etheric body are stirring to life.  We know if we are in the Michael School and we also know the reasons for such stirrings.

            And of course we have the Greeks to blame for the amazing sensual drift of their apparent myths but we are of the Michael School so we can no longer blame anyone for their sensual pulls and their sensual confusions as to the role of the etheric body and the awakening of the spiritual etheric forces behind the physical and erotic  sexual doorways.  The Greeks, intimate to the very tight connection between the sensual human form and the etheric body, understood far better than we do, the nature of Aphrodite and Adonis. 

            We have noted on this list, naturally the Anima and Animus of the terms we could easily use for Venus, viewed by Christian Rosenkreuz or Adonis viewed by Christina Rosenbloom or Rosenblossom, the untold story of the discovery of Adonis in the physical female form mystery.  However what we have also noted, and noted with little astonishment from our friends, is that Michelangelo used to have his female etheric body pose for him and those mighty etheric body poses of Michelangelo appear in sculptures of Dusk and Dawn. 

            Yes the Etheric body, in all it's sensual stirring, and we certainly feel the sensual stirring of beauty, eroticism and the intimate, highly intimate movements of our endocrine systems when they stir to life.  Can you feel it kids?  Ya, feel that and magnify those intimate stirrings of the endocrine system and see how Michelangelo, could vividly feel how his own etheric body rise up , his own vibrant, warm and mirrored sensual being, relaxed, awoke, or disappeared into the physical form or awoke as the sun set, or reentered the hand of Michelangelo as the the sun rose.

            For as night approachs or as Winter and Autumn approaches, Dusk and Dawn, there is this intimate stirring of male and female endocrine cravings, reflected back to us as eroticism.  But the intimacy of this etheric system to us, is something very, very different when we track the mystery of Adonis and Venus as they were tied to ancient myth.  Spiritual Science and the Michael School revitalizes the foundational spiritual and physical grasp and connections to the whole human mystery.  A human mystery that has not only inspired painters, thinkers and sculptures, but porn and erotic imagery fouled and fudged all the way to our own 21st century. And the Michael School and Dr. Steiner turned this all around.

            Photograph:

            But then, death forces, the wild boar, the wild tusks of instincts, lies, deceptions, greed, avarice, torture, war, murder, depleted uranium, AIDS, starvation, biogotry, hypocrisy, and utter nominalistic anti-human, anti-reason, anti-truth - horrific darkening Spin, looms over biology, science and the deeper core of human thinking. For eroticism and the porn industry and the pornographic use of media to learn to enjoy killing, torture, brutality or freezing Love and etheric pereption at the gates of the dead aspects of the erotic flesh and never penetrating as Michelangelo did, to the stirrings of his own female etheric body -  We then, as Anthro students are the last ones standing who can translate the meeting of Naked Venus in the mystery of The Alchymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreuz - We are the last ones standing to link Anima and Animus to our translations of etheric vision of Adonis and Aphrodite and why they were linked together in the Greek mind.  We are the last ones standing to see how the whole mystery of porn and Adonis became a little corrupted aspect of the Greek tales, where sensual experiences of knowledge were intimate to the Greek and intimate to his understanding of nature and his own human soul. His soul Gemut! For it was Michael in the human form, and in the artists and philosophers of Greece and the Mystery Centers of Greece that taught the deeper background which has today totally been forsaken.

            Now with this Etheric system of Nature - the mystery of what VENUS and Good Friday has to do with Golgotha brings us toward the problem of Love and the Crucified Adonis and Crucified Venus.  Ah, now there you see, the Crucified Adonis and the Crucified Venus on Good Friday brings us to some of the most stirring and deeper cores of the mystery of humanity. 

            Of course all of the squirmy little Anthro students find it difficult to hold all this together and penetrate behind Golgotha to the Naked Venus... but wait, the unfallen Adam, the unfallen Adonis, is also united because of the two Jesus destiny entwinings.  Wait, it is coming, wait for it!  Wait for it, because you first have to settle in your brain, the Science codes of XX and XY chromosome factors.  These pesky XX and XY Chromosome factors, have been explained over and over and over again, but it is clearly what makes Good Friday Good.  A horrible day, a day to murder a god and yet a Good Day, the crown day of VEnus Herself -  Venus who in the Greek mysteries had her delicate hand pierced by the jagged cut of a spear during the battle at Troy.  A palm of Venus was pierced at the etheric nerve centr of the palm... ah, but haven't we been trying to understand the stigmata? 

            Not to mention the slacker Anthros who still haven't accounted for the great Planet and beings behind each Day of the week that even reflects the name of each day of the week.  To those still unschooled newbies, you really have to grasp the meaning of Friday anyways.

            Too much?  Too Much?  pity, because out of such insights we connect and bring upwards from out our buried depths the hidden mysteries of the Etheric Form that is intimately connected to our physical form.  We begin to surface and reveal, not just the physical form, but the emerging Etheric Light Bearing form that sustains and holds onto sensitive and intimate points, the etheric body sustains and supports the collapsed physical body.  

             Suddenly the etheric forces seep out and ray through the physical form and the stigmata appears and the sex factoring, the outer sex factoring of XX and XY chromosome - makes the deed on Golgotha and deeply vital pivot to the awakening of the mighty etheric body of humanity that overcomes and seeps forth from the great model of the physical form.  The Stigmata transcends sex and reveals the underpinings of the physical body, the etheric body. The Etheric body, mighty, sensual and deeply tied to each of our memories and sustained in the etheric forces of the world and the mighty Adonis Sun rise of the Etheric Christ in the Winter of the horrible, horrible world, is visibly shown to us in the stigmata.... whether we be an Adonis or an Aphrodite, whether we be male or female, the sex walls and the sex barriers have fallen away and the stigmata, the XX and XY framework of the workings of the mighty Etheric Christ appear as points on the physical body.

            If it be Winter, or Autumn and the Earth around us is dying, receding, we can decide if Earth is a Woman or Earth is a man.  You can decide anything you wish. Or are we in a Spiritual war of an Autumn of eclipsed consciousness where human thinking is being eclipsed by winter and do we have the forces to penetrate behind the forces of nature and lift the cognitive bridge to our hidden etheric forces upward and sustain Michael Intelligence even as the darkness comes.  Manichean isn't it? 

            The more the darkness comes towards us the more the inner light begins to shine forth from the soul and spirit forces.  This shock and dismay as we face the shift to clumsy Ahrimanic fascism in the West, kindles, kindles, and perhaps won't kindle as in Nazi Germany and the fall of Weimar and Munich, perhaps won't kindle enough light, shock, dismay and refusal to accept lies.  America and the world are being pressed into this darkness and at every turn darkness twists what is cognitve and real into its opposite.  In every piece of political propaganda and religious fundamentalism and military jingoism, we see how the opposite of the truth, the lie, is dressed up and parades as pornographic truth.  A carnival, a whorehouse, of lies all parading around and dressed up as what the puny intellect craves as truth.  So there you begin to see the surfacing of the mirrored opposites, the same sex seeking, the lack of grasping the unified etheric laws of male and female, truth and lie, deception and reality, mock the feeble intellect of humanity because the Michael School stumbles around unable and unwilling to use the tools that Dr. Steiner offered up to us.  

            Bradford brought;
            "God forbid we really understood the vast karmic and soul introspection that the dead fully experience.  I have had for some months a concern about my ole friend Paul Platt.  His death, among the many sincere and solid striving Anthros was far more intense and shattering, not only because he was a life long friend of my families, but because he was a sincere striving Anthro who felt every tingle of the objective starry universe sting him so severely, that the core of his subjective and bodily system, his honesty, could not bare the agony.  Now what kind of agony is that when we have a Stigmata event one side and one who violently releases himself from  the absolute agony of subjective pain?"

            R.S.

            "In the Mysteries of Ephesus the whole service that was devoted to her who is exoterically known as Diana or Artemis, the Goddess of Ephesus, was calculated to enable man to experience and enter into the spiritual life and movement within the ether of the Cosmos."

              

            "In this detail from the top band of the famous Francois vase we see, not just any old boar hunt, but the hunting of the huge boar of Calydon. Because the king of that land, Oeneus, had failed to sacrifice to the virgin huntress Artemis, the goddess had sent this terrible beast to ravage his kingdom"

            "...the fleet-footed virgin huntress Atalanta (a pretty obvious stand-in for Artemis herself). With her skin painted white in the custom of the ancient painters, Atalanta stands out as one of the few female figures on this otherwise all-male, all-black-figure vase."

            Elizabeth Brownings -  Lament for Adonis

            "I mourn for Adonis--the Loves are lamenting.
            He lies on the hills, in his beauty and death,--
            The white tusk of a boar has transpierced his white thigh;

            Adonis, 2001, 200 x 160 cms

          • carol
            Bradford brought; God forbid we really understood the vast karmic and soul introspection that the dead fully experience. I have had for some months a concern
            Message 5 of 14 , Oct 14, 2007

              Bradford brought;

              "God forbid we really understood the vast karmic and soul introspection that the dead fully experience.  I have had for some months a concern about my ole friend Paul Platt.  His death, among the many sincere and solid striving Anthros was far more intense and shattering, not only because he was a life long friend of my families, but because he was a sincere striving Anthro who felt every tingle of the objective starry universe sting him so severely, that the core of his subjective and bodily system, his honesty, could not bare the agony.  Now what kind of agony is that when we have a Stigmata event one side and one who violently releases himself from  the absolute agony of subjective pain?"

              Well, I beleive it's a rather integral experience of `Christ in me'. Perhaps your friend Paul Platt was awaiting a devachanic Paul experience but may have been ` in line for it ' a little to early.  (I'm not trying to be mean). Maybe certain Michealmic events had to come to pass first, within the collective social fabric and within the upper devachanic realms, before the finer aspects of this experience could be made possible.

              "Thus the forces radiating from the etheric body of Christian Rosenkreutz continued to be active in the nineteenth century too. And a renewal of theosophical life could come about because by 1899 the little Kali Yuga had run its course. That is why the approach to the spiritual world is easier now and spiritual influence is possible to a far greater degree. The etheric body of Christian Rosenkreutz has become very strong, and, through devotion to this, man will be able to acquire the new clairvoyance, and lofty spiritual forces will come into being. This will only be possible, however, for those people who follow the training of Christian Rosenkreutz correctly. Until now an esoteric rosicrucian preparation was essential, but the twentieth century has the mission of enabling this etheric body to become so powerful that it can also work exoterically. Those affected by it will be granted the experience of the event that Paul experienced on the road to Damascus. Until now this etheric body has only worked into the school of the rosicrucians; in the twentieth century more and more people will be able to experience the effect of it, and through this they will come to experience the appearance of Christ in the etheric body. It is the work of the rosicrucians that makes possible the etheric vision of Christ. The number of people who will become capable of seeing it will grow and grow. We must attribute this re-appearance to the important work of the twelve and the thirteenth in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

              If you can become an instrument of Christian Rosenkreutz, then you can be assured that the smallest detail of your soul activity will be there for eternity."

              rudolf steiner archives: Esoteric Christianity and the Mission of Christian Rosenkreutz ROSICRUCIAN CHRISTIANITY Lecture 1 Neuchatel, 27th September 1911

              It seems that the stigmata instance presses hard onto the Anthroposophic Society`s external destiny- creating for it,  it's own karmic `Christ in me' pain.  (I think this could be well considered a necessity since Ahrimanic forces are far to subtle and clever for the Society to imagine taking them on, on their own, without a little extra help.  Seen from this angle, the stigmata (also) acts a necessary extra ordinary spiritual event working for the best interest of the Anthroposophic Society.)

              C.

               

               

               


              --- In anthroposophy@yahoogroups.com, "holderlin66" <holderlin66@...> wrote:
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > R.S.
              >
              > "From the manifold festivals of ancient time, we may select for an
              > example the Adonis festival. Through long, long periods of pre-Christian
              > antiquity this festival was celebrated among certain peoples of Asia
              > Minor. A sacred image was the central point of the festival. It was an
              > image of Adonis — Adonis as the spiritual representative of all that
              > is the springing and thriving force of youth in man, of all that appears
              > as beauty in the human being. "
              >
              >
              >
              > http://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA/GA0233/19240419p01.html
              > <http://wn.rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA/GA0233/19240419p01.html>
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > Adonis, 70 x 90 cm, Oil on canvas, 2005
              >
              > R.S.
              >
              > "In ancient times there were indeed some peoples who were more Autumn
              > peoples, and others who were more Springtime peoples. Within the Autumn
              > peoples there were the Mysteries of Adonis, while in the Springtime
              > peoples there were other Mysteries related to what I have described
              > today. And only those seekers after knowledge of whom it is truly
              > related how they journeyed from place to place, from one Mystery to
              > another, like Pythagoras, only they underwent the real totality of human
              > experience. From a place of the Mysteries where they could behold the
              > Autumn secret which is the real secret of the Sun, they wandered to
              > another place where they could behold the Springtime secret, that is the
              > secret of the Moon. Hence of the greatest Initiates of ancient times it
              > is again and again related how they wandered from one place to another
              > of the Mysteries. And we may truly say that those old Initiates in a
              > certain sense experienced the year in their inner life, the year with
              > its sacred Festivities. An old Initiate might say: "When I come to
              > such and such a place where Adonis Festivals are celebrated, I behold
              > the cosmic Autumn, the shining of the spiritual Sun in the beginning of
              > the night of Winter." And as he came to another place where the
              > Springtime Mysteries were celebrated, he would say: "Now I shall
              > witness the secret of the Moon." Thus in his inner life he learned
              > to know that which determines the whole meaning of the year.
              >
              > Bradford's commentary;
              >
              > The term Adonis the hunkly studs, who are now termed Adonis' steroid,
              > weightlifting, hunks, certainly have morphed as all mysteries and all
              > ancient mysteries have morphed in meaning. True that Adonis really was
              > the kind of mirroring we have brought up on this list many, many times,
              > a mirror between Aphrodite and Adonis as the model, we know the model
              > for Aphrodite can be worked with as deeply as Christian Rosenkreuz tale
              > of encountering Venus Naked - Rosenkreuz witnessing the interior
              > workings of the cosmic Endocrine system that supports the entire system
              > of love in the biology of human beings - to- and we certainly must add
              > the unfallen aspects, the unfallen forces, the innocent and cosmic
              > forces of the unfallen Adam.
              >
              > Hummm, the unfallen Adam and the intricate workings of the cosmic
              > endorcrine system, Naked Venus, which Christian Rosenkreuz encounters in
              > the tale of the Alchemical Wedding of Christiian Rosenkreuz and how we
              > understand Aphrodite and Venus as the intimate workings of the
              > microcosmic endocrine system and also our love for the external form of
              > females - Which, like the external form of males or Adonis - These
              > external forms are truly the hidden forms of how we grasp the Male
              > etheric body as Venus and the female etheric body, the perfect female
              > etheric body as truly the Adonis, or the unwritten and awaiting text of
              > a female Christina Rosenbloom who discovers Adonis naked instead of
              > Venus Naked, the Alchymical marriage of Christina Rosenblossom - who
              > actually sees Adonis naked, which is the same reaction Christian
              > Rosenkreuz had, seeing Venus Naked.
              >
              > Seeing Adonis naked, in a microcosmic aspect is to see the female
              > etheric body. That is when a female sees her own etheric body, as a male
              > and sees the shimmering Adonis in herself. If only our same sex
              > attractions could see exactly what they are struggling with in the
              > images that they encounter in their being. But alas we remain cowardly
              > and immature so that somehow Anthros avoid these common, very common
              > issues that have arisen as distortions of etheric perception.
              >
              > All these perceptions are all highly important sensual bridges where we
              > encounter in the Adonis mystery, the decay and death of the external
              > bodily systems, autumn, and death and decay, but also the inward
              > awakening of the Etheric Living Sun and cognitive forces of the soul and
              > spirit in contrast. In other words we restore to our souls the true
              > Adonis Mysteries.
              >
              > Men and Women have, as anyone can easily see, merged erotic porn as the
              > portal to either their fleshy image of Adonis or their fleshy image of
              > Venus and Aphrodite. The subject rarely outgrows or integrates deeper
              > and more keen perceptions, because you see, by the nature of same sex
              > insights, we know, we know that the intimate workings of the deeper
              > etheric body are stirring to life. We know if we are in the Michael
              > School and we also know the reasons for such stirrings.
              >
              > And of course we have the Greeks to blame for the amazing sensual drift
              > of their apparent myths but we are of the Michael School so we can no
              > longer blame anyone for their sensual pulls and their sensual confusions
              > as to the role of the etheric body and the awakening of the spiritual
              > etheric forces behind the physical and erotic sexual doorways. The
              > Greeks, intimate to the very tight connection between the sensual human
              > form and the etheric body, understood far better than we do, the nature
              > of Aphrodite and Adonis.
              >
              > We have noted on this list, naturally the Anima and Animus of the terms
              > we could easily use for Venus, viewed by Christian Rosenkreuz or Adonis
              > viewed by Christina Rosenbloom or Rosenblossom, the untold story of the
              > discovery of Adonis in the physical female form mystery. However what
              > we have also noted, and noted with little astonishment from our friends,
              > is that Michelangelo used to have his female etheric body pose for him
              > and those mighty etheric body poses of Michelangelo appear in sculptures
              > of Dusk and Dawn.
              >
              > Yes the Etheric body, in all it's sensual stirring, and we certainly
              > feel the sensual stirring of beauty, eroticism and the intimate, highly
              > intimate movements of our endocrine systems when they stir to life. Can
              > you feel it kids? Ya, feel that and magnify those intimate stirrings of
              > the endocrine system and see how Michelangelo, could vividly feel how
              > his own etheric body rise up , his own vibrant, warm and mirrored
              > sensual being, relaxed, awoke, or disappeared into the physical form or
              > awoke as the sun set, or reentered the hand of Michelangelo as the the
              > sun rose.
              >
              > For as night approachs or as Winter and Autumn approaches, Dusk and
              > Dawn, there is this intimate stirring of male and female endocrine
              > cravings, reflected back to us as eroticism. But the intimacy of this
              > etheric system to us, is something very, very different when we track
              > the mystery of Adonis and Venus as they were tied to ancient myth.
              > Spiritual Science and the Michael School revitalizes the foundational
              > spiritual and physical grasp and connections to the whole human mystery.
              > A human mystery that has not only inspired painters, thinkers and
              > sculptures, but porn and erotic imagery fouled and fudged all the way to
              > our own 21st century. And the Michael School and Dr. Steiner turned this
              > all around.
              >
              > [Photograph:"Dawn," marble sculpture from the tomb of Lorenzo
              > de' Medici by Michelangelo, 1520–34. In the Medici Chapel, San
              > Lorenzo, Florence.]
              >
              > But then, death forces, the wild boar, the wild tusks of instincts,
              > lies, deceptions, greed, avarice, torture, war, murder, depleted
              > uranium, AIDS, starvation, biogotry, hypocrisy, and utter nominalistic
              > anti-human, anti-reason, anti-truth - horrific darkening Spin, looms
              > over biology, science and the deeper core of human thinking. For
              > eroticism and the porn industry and the pornographic use of media to
              > learn to enjoy killing, torture, brutality or freezing Love and etheric
              > pereption at the gates of the dead aspects of the erotic flesh and never
              > penetrating as Michelangelo did, to the stirrings of his own female
              > etheric body - We then, as Anthro students are the last ones standing
              > who can translate the meeting of Naked Venus in the mystery of The
              > Alchymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreuz - We are the last ones
              > standing to link Anima and Animus to our translations of etheric vision
              > of Adonis and Aphrodite and why they were linked together in the Greek
              > mind. We are the last ones standing to see how the whole mystery of
              > porn and Adonis became a little corrupted aspect of the Greek tales,
              > where sensual experiences of knowledge were intimate to the Greek and
              > intimate to his understanding of nature and his own human soul. His soul
              > Gemut! For it was Michael in the human form, and in the artists and
              > philosophers of Greece and the Mystery Centers of Greece that taught the
              > deeper background which has today totally been forsaken.
              >
              > Now with this Etheric system of Nature - the mystery of what VENUS and
              > Good Friday has to do with Golgotha brings us toward the problem of Love
              > and the Crucified Adonis and Crucified Venus. Ah, now there you see,
              > the Crucified Adonis and the Crucified Venus on Good Friday brings us to
              > some of the most stirring and deeper cores of the mystery of humanity.
              >
              >
              >
              > Of course all of the squirmy little Anthro students find it difficult to
              > hold all this together and penetrate behind Golgotha to the Naked
              > Venus... but wait, the unfallen Adam, the unfallen Adonis, is also
              > united because of the two Jesus destiny entwinings. Wait, it is coming,
              > wait for it! Wait for it, because you first have to settle in your
              > brain, the Science codes of XX and XY chromosome factors. These pesky
              > XX and XY Chromosome factors, have been explained over and over and over
              > again, but it is clearly what makes Good Friday Good. A horrible day, a
              > day to murder a god and yet a Good Day, the crown day of VEnus Herself -
              > Venus who in the Greek mysteries had her delicate hand pierced by the
              > jagged cut of a spear during the battle at Troy. A palm of Venus was
              > pierced at the etheric nerve centr of the palm... ah, but haven't we
              > been trying to understand the stigmata?
              >
              > Not to mention the slacker Anthros who still haven't accounted for the
              > great Planet and beings behind each Day of the week that even reflects
              > the name of each day of the week. To those still unschooled newbies,
              > you really have to grasp the meaning of Friday anyways.
              >
              > Too much? Too Much? pity, because out of such insights we connect and
              > bring upwards from out our buried depths the hidden mysteries of the
              > Etheric Form that is intimately connected to our physical form. We
              > begin to surface and reveal, not just the physical form, but the
              > emerging Etheric Light Bearing form that sustains and holds onto
              > sensitive and intimate points, the etheric body sustains and supports
              > the collapsed physical body.
              >
              > Suddenly the etheric forces seep out and ray through the physical form
              > and the stigmata appears and the sex factoring, the outer sex factoring
              > of XX and XY chromosome - makes the deed on Golgotha and deeply vital
              > pivot to the awakening of the mighty etheric body of humanity that
              > overcomes and seeps forth from the great model of the physical form.
              > The Stigmata transcends sex and reveals the underpinings of the physical
              > body, the etheric body. The Etheric body, mighty, sensual and deeply
              > tied to each of our memories and sustained in the etheric forces of the
              > world and the mighty Adonis Sun rise of the Etheric Christ in the Winter
              > of the horrible, horrible world, is visibly shown to us in the
              > stigmata.... whether we be an Adonis or an Aphrodite, whether we be male
              > or female, the sex walls and the sex barriers have fallen away and the
              > stigmata, the XX and XY framework of the workings of the mighty Etheric
              > Christ appear as points on the physical body.
              >
              > If it be Winter, or Autumn and the Earth around us is dying, receding,
              > we can decide if Earth is a Woman or Earth is a man. You can decide
              > anything you wish. Or are we in a Spiritual war of an Autumn of eclipsed
              > consciousness where human thinking is being eclipsed by winter and do we
              > have the forces to penetrate behind the forces of nature and lift the
              > cognitive bridge to our hidden etheric forces upward and sustain Michael
              > Intelligence even as the darkness comes. Manichean isn't it?
              >
              > The more the darkness comes towards us the more the inner light begins
              > to shine forth from the soul and spirit forces. This shock and dismay
              > as we face the shift to clumsy Ahrimanic fascism in the West, kindles,
              > kindles, and perhaps won't kindle as in Nazi Germany and the fall of
              > Weimar and Munich, perhaps won't kindle enough light, shock, dismay and
              > refusal to accept lies. America and the world are being pressed into
              > this darkness and at every turn darkness twists what is cognitve and
              > real into its opposite. In every piece of political propaganda and
              > religious fundamentalism and military jingoism, we see how the opposite
              > of the truth, the lie, is dressed up and parades as pornographic truth.
              > A carnival, a whorehouse, of lies all parading around and dressed up as
              > what the puny intellect craves as truth. So there you begin to see the
              > surfacing of the mirrored opposites, the same sex seeking, the lack of
              > grasping the unified etheric laws of male and female, truth and lie,
              > deception and reality, mock the feeble intellect of humanity because the
              > Michael School stumbles around unable and unwilling to use the tools
              > that Dr. Steiner offered up to us.
              >
              > Bradford brought;
              > "God forbid we really understood the vast karmic and soul introspection
              > that the dead fully experience. I have had for some months a concern
              > about my ole friend Paul Platt. His death, among the many sincere and
              > solid striving Anthros was far more intense and shattering, not only
              > because he was a life long friend of my families, but because he was a
              > sincere striving Anthro who felt every tingle of the objective starry
              > universe sting him so severely, that the core of his subjective and
              > bodily system, his honesty, could not bare the agony. Now what kind of
              > agony is that when we have a Stigmata event one side and one who
              > violently releases himself from the absolute agony of subjective pain?"
              >
              > R.S.
              >
              > "In the Mysteries of Ephesus the whole service that was devoted to her
              > who is exoterically known as Diana or Artemis, the Goddess of Ephesus,
              > was calculated to enable man to experience and enter into the spiritual
              > life and movement within the ether of the Cosmos."
              >
              >
              >
              > "In this detail from the top band of the famous Francois vase we see,
              > not just any old boar hunt, but the hunting of the huge boar of Calydon.
              > Because the king of that land, Oeneus, had failed to sacrifice to the
              > virgin huntress Artemis, the goddess had sent this terrible beast to
              > ravage his kingdom"
              >
              > "...the fleet-footed virgin huntress Atalanta (a pretty obvious stand-in
              > for Artemis herself). With her skin painted white in the custom of the
              > ancient painters, Atalanta stands out as one of the few female figures
              > on this otherwise all-male, all-black-figure vase."
              >
              > Elizabeth Brownings - Lament for Adonis
              >
              > "I mourn for Adonis--the Loves are lamenting.
              > He lies on the hills, in his beauty and death,--
              > The white tusk of a boar has transpierced his white thigh;
              >
              > Adonis, 2001, 200 x 160 cms
              >

            • holderlin66
              Bradford brought; Suddenly the etheric forces seep out and ray through the physical form and the stigmata appears and the sex factoring, the outer sex
              Message 6 of 14 , Oct 15, 2007

                Bradford brought; 

                "Suddenly the etheric forces seep out and ray through the physical form and the stigmata appears and the sex factoring, the outer sex factoring of XX and XY chromosome - makes the deed on Golgotha a deeply vital pivot to the awakening of the mighty etheric body of humanity that overcomes and also seeps forth from the great model of the physical form.  And this hidden Etheric Sun seeps into all and every aspect of every detail of all human etheric and plant, animal etheric forces that surge through earth and are individualized in each individual memory and karmic system of each incarnating human being.

                The Stigmata transcends sex and reveals the underpinings of the physical body, which is the etheric body. The Etheric body, mighty, sensual and deeply tied to each of our memories and sustained in the etheric forces of the world and the mighty Adonis Sun rise of the Etheric Christ in the Winter of the horrible, horrible world, is visibly shown to us in the stigmata.... whether we be an Adonis or an Aphrodite, whether we be male or female, the sex walls and the sex barriers have fallen away and the stigmata, the XX and XY framework of the workings of the mighty Etheric Christ appear as points on the physical body."

                When we look deeply into the Etheric force systems that support the physical form, we notice that the Stigmata arises as points and wounds, from which the bright Elohim forces of the Etheric Body Shine through or ray through and penetrate at key points.  These key force points have been described in detail by Dr. Steiner...as wounds bound up with the higher members of the human being.

                In the flowing of the Blood of Christ into the Earth on Golgotha we see the excessive egoism in the human 'I' flowing into the Earth, draining away from humanity, preventing what would have else resulted in a spiritual hardening. And, Steiner adds:

                [page 169] But every physical event has its spiritual counterpart. Inasmuch as the blood flowed from the Wounds on Golgotha, a corresponding spiritual event was taking place. It came about at that moment that rays of light streamed for the first time from the earth into universal space, where there had formerly been none; so that we have to picture to ourselves rays of light, created at that moment, streaming out from the earth into space.

                "When men learn in the course of time to await the coming of death as Christ awaited it, it will prove itself in truth to be the seed of life. In proportion as men opening their hearts to the Christ-impulse offer up something of their own, they will contribute to the growth of a new sun and a new planetary system, and provide for the ever greater increase of the Sun of Life. "  Talk about hard, hard lessons.  await in an appropriate attitude the style and type of death that is coming to meet you, or the impossible inner example of bearing the Stigmata, calls forth hard, hard inner lessons.

                On page 132 of Steiner's lectures on the Gospel of St. Mark we encounter the problem of the wounds and the super-force of the higher ego that penetrates and makes the five wounds that ray out through and past the physical frame and form of the human being. These wounds indicate a super force and a mighty etheric super synchronization.

                Adonis is also wounded and in this wound, groin wound or thigh wound we have here an astonishing problem of The Fisher King wounded by the deadly spear that was used against Christ, the Spear of Destiny in the male vulnerable point of sexual potency.

                And Adonis, instead of the female etheric body, instead of representing the physical females inward etheric body, Adonis has become something more connected with gay men's clubs.  But then, knowing how we think, knowing our slippery interpretations of psychology and our misfit, misunderstood and mis-evaluated study of etheric systems, which are utterly denied by everyone whose heads are utterly filled with materialism, both Aphrodite and Adonis have been absorbed into fallen Jungian Archetypes that merely imply burgeoning, hairy, shaggy garment of male skin. 

                A skin job with hair, in other words burgeoning life of male potency that remains Wounded during the entire length of the Fifth Epoch unless it overcomes it's onesided male energy.

                bur·geon also bour·geon (bûrjn)

                intr.v. bur·geoned, bur·geon·ing, bur·geons
                1.
                a. To put forth new buds, leaves, or greenery; sprout.
                b. To begin to grow or blossom.
                2. To grow and flourish.

                [Middle English burgeonen, from Old French borjoner, from burjon, a bud, from Vulgar Latin *burri, burrin-, from Late Latin burra, a shaggy garment.]

                "What is the wound of patriarchy? A thousand or so years ago it was called the Amfortas wound. Amfortas was the the Grail King who was mortally wounded by "a spear through the thighs," say the old medieval epics. Scholars blandly note that "thighs" is a euphemism for the groin. The Amfortas Wound is sexual.

                "All the theocratic pretenders are sexual cripples who conceal their affliction by the invocation of countless begettings. They began their regime with a litany of begettings that culminated in the birth of God's only human offspring, the divine messiah. They are now culminating their 6000-year regime with a litany of begettings (in the form of genetic experimentation) that will lead to perfect human replication—so they believe. Their hidden aim is to destroy flesh-and-blood humanity and replace it with a New Jerusalem populated by remote-controlled clones, over which they will reign immortally because they partake of the company of one who is "without father, without mother, without descent or generation, having neither beginning of days nor end of life" (Hebrews 7:3). This is Melchizedek, the ET Messiah, the Prince of Righteousness. With their telltale fondness for religious symbolism, the theocratic masterminds have deemed that Melchizedek be the "guardian angel" of the Zionist State. "

                Bradford concludes;

                While we stand here and wonder over the wounds of the wild boar that gores Adonis and murders the burgeoning life forces of Adonis, we see clearly that a one-sided domination of male energies with no inner etheric counter pole, calls forth from the world, the goring and wounding of the male, machismo and Soprano, military- good ole boy dominated coporatism. Are these dying and decaying forces, left unbalanced and out of the loop of the rising Etheric Christ system?  Look friends, Michelangelo as he prepared to go to sleep could feel and see his own etheric body, his own female etheric body, as only such an artist or those who were dominated by the Michael impulse of the sensual form system out of the Greek Period when Michael ruled... Michelangelo could actually see his female etheric body and feel his female etheric body squirm, stretch and come to life before his inward eyes.  She a richly endowed imagination of a female.  The male has a female etheric body and the female has a male etheric body. We are researching here the super-Elohim etheric force that rayed forth from Golgotha right through the wounds and even the wounds were drawn from higher wisdom that humanity thought might serve torture better.

                The stigmata and wounds, the Five Wounds- are clearly brought up by Dr. Steiner in his Gospel of St. Mark and his Oedipus comments.  So when we look at the light that pours out from the five wounds of the Grunewald Painting of the Resurrection, we not only see that behind matter and behind the Golgotha Event was the meeting of Venus and the male etheric body but the meeting of Adonis and the female etheric roots of being, penetrated by the mighty Sun Being raying in from five points of contact. 

                In simplicity we contemplate autumn and the life forces disappearing, drying up, dying out before our gaze,  The Death of Adonis and the dying Light, yet with Spiritual Science and the Michael School, the inner illuminated etheric life of the human soul-spiritual being and the Etheric Christ in the Earth that wends it's way toward the Midnight Sun where the deepest and densest part of the outer sun is weakened and winter comes to us... But didn't Germany already have a Winter, a deep dark Winter that eclipsed humanity? Yet we rushed to create from the World Wars, the dawning of the Ahrimanic Sun to diminish the arising in ourselves of real etheric gender bending, internal insights that even include our understanding of wounds and of the Stigmata.  

                What happens when we are once more caught in the Orwellian eclipse of humanity? One of the first things that happens, aside from rejecting the baseless, darkened death forces of fascism and betrayed human goodness, aside from our failure to utterly reject Israel's insisting on covering over the whole region where the Golgotha Event on Earth took place, with their darkened, torture based, avarice ridden intentions, helped by the U.S., what really happens when such darkness comes toward us, is a kind of autumn and winter that is supposed to light up in us as Michael Courage to embrace the very inner aspects of higher devachan realities. When overwhelming moral winter comes upon us, strong Michael courage and inner etheric strengths are supposed to arise in those of us who still might have a healthy etheric body.  Ha!

                What were and what are those realities of the higher devachan?  That the Elohim Christ Being united XX and XY sexual issues in the human being on Golgotha and from within the form of the wounded and depleted body of Jesus, the Elohim locked onto the five key points of the etheric body and from within. Tthe whole force of matter and the inner earth mysteries of nature and humanity were changed and brought about a change in the etheric structure of the Earth and those who in future will bear a strongly infused Christian Rosenkreuz etheric enhanced body.  When the wounds and blood flowed from Golgotha, it just so happened that the very marks and the very places where the most sensitive etheric hands and etheric feet and the most sensitive forces where also the exact points that seemed like the best way to torture a whole bunch of people, were also the touch points to the mighty etheric world.  Unfair and unscientific and unethical are the horrific torture techniques that humans devise to crush the physical form of Man. 

                Death sentences today are mostly cyanide, hanging, torture, electric chair, Oh and countless, countless methods that are studied as a science today, a science of torture so brutal, so alarming and this torture is sanctioned by the United States of Ahriman and poses the darkest, darkest winter of the human soul,  as  matter of fact dehumanization, whose intent is to bury and horrify the actual holy insights humanity might gain from the Etheric.  To Horrify or sexify, or pornofy, erotisize, demean, deny and dumb down the actual reality behind the human form and how the human form is rooted in the divine.  From the new Etheric Worlds  we draw our Michael Courage.

              • holderlin66
                Thoughts About the True Miracle in the Andes By Cynthia Boaz t r u t h o u t | Perspective Sunday 14 October 2007 Exactly 35 years ago today, a horrific and
                Message 7 of 14 , Oct 15, 2007
                  Thoughts About the True Miracle in the Andes
                  By Cynthia Boaz
                  t r u t h o u t | Perspective

                  Sunday 14 October 2007

                  Exactly 35 years ago today, a horrific and extraordinary chain
                  of events was set in motion high in the Andes above Chile. A small
                  commuter plane carrying 45 people crashed on Friday, October 13,
                  1972. For the next two months, a group of survivors of the crash,
                  most of whom were the young members of a Uruguayan rugby team called
                  the "Old Christians," kept themselves alive against all laws of
                  nature, physics and reason. Like many, you are probably familiar
                  with this story because of its more gruesome details, some of which -
                  namely that the survivors ate the flesh of the dead in order to
                  stay alive - were obsessed over and sensationalized in media for
                  months after the rescue, and then again in the early 1990s when
                  Frank Marshall directed a film called "Alive" (based on Piers Paul
                  Read's book). If you saw the film or read the book, you will recall
                  that one of the primary characters on the mountain was a man named
                  Nando Parrado. Nando says in his own book, "Miracle in the Andes"
                  (published in 2006), that he was not a man of any particular
                  leadership skill or quality at the time of the crash, but
                  nonetheless, over the course of the two months following the
                  accident, he emerged as the key figure in the salvation of the other
                  15 survivors.

                  Nando was the driving force behind an expedition out of the
                  mountains (which he undertook along with medical student Roberto
                  Canessa) to get the group rescued after 60 days of surviving
                  freezing temperatures, altitude sickness, a crushing avalanche
                  (which killed eight of their companions in a matter of minutes),
                  starvation, thirst, grief, despair and the horror of being witness
                  to their own slow deaths. Nando and Roberto walked for 11 days over
                  a 17,000-ft peak and across more than 60 miles of ice, snow, and
                  rock with nothing but the street clothes they had packed for a
                  weekend vacation and the will to live.

                  When Nando came to SUNY Brockport last month to speak to
                  students, he had an audience of more than 1,500 (the largest I've
                  seen there by a scale of three times). Before he left the stage, he
                  had been given three standing ovations, each of which lasted well
                  over a minute. I was very fortunate to get to spend some time with
                  Nando after his talk, and he graciously allowed me to ask him
                  anything I wanted to know about his experience in the Andes. After
                  some discussion of things like his relationships with the other
                  survivors, how he has been able to not let the disaster be the most
                  important thing in his life, and what he learned on that mountain
                  about himself and human beings, I came to realize that what was most
                  fascinating to me about Nando was not the tragedy or even that he
                  had had the amazing luck to survive such an ordeal. What is most
                  extraordinary about Nando is that he has taken an experience that
                  might destroy most of us, and instead of defining himself as a
                  victim, he has chosen to use his survival as an opportunity to
                  embrace life fully and to show others how to do that as well.

                  He spends many months traveling each year to talk to audiences all
                  over the world about his experiences. But he doesn't lecture them
                  on "leadership" or "teamwork" or "courage." He talks to them simply
                  and candidly about how he learned that love is the only sane
                  reaction to horror and death. He credits his will to survive -
                  indeed, his survival itself - to his love for his father.

                  It's interesting, because although he always packs the room, I get
                  the feeling that Nando doesn't fully understand why people respond
                  to him the way they do. He perceives that he is made into a hero for
                  his actions (which is probably true in the case of some people), and
                  more powerfully (and correctly) that his story resonates with people
                  because it demonstrates to them that anything can be endured and
                  overcome. But I think the most significant reason that people
                  respond so strongly to Nando is not just because of what he endured,
                  but because he reminds us that even in the most hopeless of
                  situations, we still have a choice.

                  At its core, Nando's story demonstrates that we always have a degree
                  of control over our lives, even if that choice is simply defining
                  the terms under which we die. This phenomenon is much more than
                  hopefulness or optimism; it is the manifestation of human agency. It
                  is the essence of empowerment.

                  There is a quote from Nando's book where, after being on the
                  mountain for more than two months, enduring the deaths of 29 friends
                  and family members (including his mother and sister), and upon
                  reaching the summit of a 17,000-foot peak in 30-below-zero
                  temperatures in jeans and sneakers, expecting to see green valleys
                  below, he only sees more peaks and snow-filled valleys as far as the
                  eye can see.

                  Nando writes:

                  I don't know how long I stood there, staring. A minute. Maybe two. I
                  stood motionless until I felt a burning pressure in my lungs, and
                  realized I had forgotten to breathe. I cursed God and raged at the
                  mountains. The truth was before me: For all my striving, all my
                  hopes, all my whispered promises to myself and my father, it would
                  end like this. We would all die in these mountains. We would sink
                  beneath the snow, and ancient silence would fall over us, and our
                  loved ones would never know how hard we had struggled to return to
                  them. In that moment, all my dreams, assumptions and expectations of
                  life evaporated into the thin Andean air. My love for my father
                  swelled in my heart and I realized that, despite the hopelessness of
                  my situation, the memory of him filled me with joy. It staggered me.
                  The mountains, for all their power, were not stronger than my
                  attachment to my father. They could not crush my ability to love. I
                  felt a moment of calmness and clarity, and in that clarity of mind I
                  discovered a simple, astounding secret: Death has an opposite, but
                  the opposite is not mere living. It is not courage or faith or human
                  will. The opposite of death is love. How had I missed that? How does
                  anyone miss that? Only love can turn mere life into a miracle and
                  draw precious meaning from suffering and fear. For a brief, magical
                  moment, all my fears lifted and I knew that I would not let death
                  control me. I would walk through the godforsaken country that
                  separated me from my home with love and hope in my heart. I would
                  walk until I had walked all the life out of me, and when I fell, I
                  would die that much closer to my father.

                  In that moment, when he accepted his own death as inevitable and
                  impending, Nando made what must have seemed to him a tiny choice,
                  but which had enormous consequences. Although he was sure that he
                  would never see home again, he chose to refuse the path of least
                  resistance. Instead of lying down in the snow and waiting for death
                  to come to him (as he had pondered doing on many occasions during
                  those two months), Nando elected to continue walking. He understood
                  in that moment that the fear of death was the real horror. In making
                  that split-second choice to take one more step, to breathe in and
                  out one more time, Nando conquered that fear and discovered a
                  reserve of spiritual resilience that he believes (as I also do) is
                  accessible to everyone.

                  Nando's transformational experience on that summit is not unlike
                  what Buddha or Gandhi or other great spiritual leaders have
                  described. Although he didn't know it at the time, in choosing to
                  continue walking, Nando not only saved his own life and those of 15
                  other men, but he pulled all of us one step further down the road of
                  human evolution. "
                • holderlin66
                  War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior does today. ~ John F. Kennedy
                  Message 8 of 14 , Oct 15, 2007
                    War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious
                    objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior
                    does today.

                    ~ John F. Kennedy

                    The life of Franz Jägerstätter was the ordinary life of an Austrian
                    farmer in the village of St. Radegund. He was a devout Catholic, a
                    daily communicant who prayed the rosary while doing farm chores.
                    Sexton of his parish church, he was married and had three children.
                    But, on August 9, 1943 Franz Jägerstätter's life became other than
                    ordinary, when he was legally killed by the German Military for
                    refusing to kill for the German Military.

                    http://www.lewrockwell.com/orig7/mccarthy7.html

                    At the hour of his death few people knew him and no one who did know
                    him supported him in his refusal to engage in homicide for the
                    Führer. Legions of Christians of all ranks told him to do his duty
                    and go to war like the other Christian men. His bishop, pastor and
                    spiritual advisors endeavored to persuade him that his conscientious
                    objection was a wrong and futile course, even possibly sinful and
                    contrary to Church teaching. He was looked upon as the embarrassing,
                    if not mentally unstable, polar opposite of the heroic Aryan
                    warrior. However, with a courage that, even on an exclusively human
                    plane, was noble, heart-rending and eminently inspiring, he gently
                    stood firm and said, "No," to joining the German military. So it can
                    be said with certitude, that when the blade of the guillotine fell
                    at Brandenburg Prison near Berlin at 4 p.m. on August 9, 1943, Franz
                    Jägerstätter was totally alone, almost totally unknown and destined
                    to be totally forgotten.

                    However, as a manifestation of how the mystery and power of God's
                    plan for the redemption of all people through Jesus Christ
                    inexorably advances in history, on this coming October 26th
                    throughout the world millions of people will stop, think about and
                    be touched by this man. They may disagree among themselves about
                    historical details of his life but no one will doubt that the finger
                    of God was operative here – and operative not just for the salvation
                    of Franz Jägerstätter but also for the good of the Church and
                    through the Church for the good of all people. For on October 26,
                    2007, the Catholic Church will formerly Beatify Franz Jägerstätter
                    as a martyr of the Christian faith. His Beatification will close
                    forever for all Catholics, and hopefully for all Christians, any
                    thought that they can obey the laws of a nation or the orders of an
                    agent of a state if what is required to obey is doing that which is
                    not in conformity with the Will of God as revealed by Jesus, the
                    Word (Logos) of God "made flesh." The Beatification of
                    this "destined to be forgotten" man will be the incarnational and
                    liturgical underlining in blood-red of one of the most ignored
                    tenets of Gospel morality and one of the most ignored text of the
                    Catechism of the Catholic Church (§2242):

                    The citizen is obliged in conscience not to follow the directions of
                    civil authorities when they are contrary to the demands of the moral
                    order, the fundamental rights of persons or the Gospel. Refusing
                    obedience to civil authorities, when their demands are contrary to
                    those of an upright conscience, finds its justification in the
                    distinction between serving God and serving the political
                    community. "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's,
                    and to God the things that are God's" (Mt 22:21). "We must obey God
                    rather than man" (Ac 5:29).

                    The story of how a simple man, a "nobody" by the standards of
                    the "somebodies" of this world, went from being a criminal who was
                    executed by his government for declining to partake in a nation's
                    war, to being a person who was officially discussed at the Second
                    Vatican Council, to being a figure known at every point of the
                    compass, to being a person Beatified by the Catholic Church deserves
                    the attention of everyone who struggles to understand how humanity
                    can be extricated from this valley of tragedy and tears in which
                    human life is ensnared. Franz Jägerstätter's witness should be
                    especially pondered by those who believe that fidelity to the Word
                    (Logos) of God as revealed in Jesus is "not enough" to make an
                    essential difference in the human situation, and by those who
                    believe that Christianity must proclaim a "realistic gospel" of evil
                    renamed, rationalized and accepted as good, if it is to be effective
                    in this world. So, here on the threshold of Franz Jägerstätter's
                    Beatification, I hope to make visible the prophetic purpose and
                    meaning of his life and death. I hope to illuminate the salvific
                    communication from God for which he was the chosen instrument – the
                    chosen instrument who nevertheless had to choose to see and to act.

                    Years ago I viewed a public service advertisement on television,
                    which I suspect many others have seen. It was produced by a
                    rehabilitation group for alcoholics. Its intention was to open the
                    eyes of people whose families had become dysfunctional because they
                    were denying a fact that was self-evident to the whole world,
                    namely, that someone in the family was an alcoholic and that the
                    unwillingness on the part of the alcoholic and his family to
                    acknowledge this was gravely distorting, indeed ravaging, domestic
                    life.

                    In the ad a family is relaxing in its living room. The father
                    reclines in an easy chair perusing the newspaper. The mother sits on
                    the couch sewing. A little girl watches TV. All of a sudden an
                    elephant enters the living room and begins to upset things with
                    almost every move. By the time the ad concludes, the family's world
                    has been turned upside-down. The father's easy chair is tipped over,
                    he is sprawled on the floor, his glasses are broken but he continues
                    to try to read the newspaper. The mother lies on the couch
                    underneath a busted lamp struggling to re-thread a needle and the
                    little girl peeks around the elephant in order to watch a now
                    crushed television set. Yet, in spite of this shattering breakdown
                    in community life, no one is willing to acknowledge and speak the
                    plain truth: "There is an elephant in the room and it is ruining
                    everything."

                    All continue to remain oblivious to the obvious. Like people
                    myopically concerned with making the beds correctly in a burning
                    house, everyone's attention is entirely absorbed by incidental
                    tasks, which would be proper and right except for one terrible self-
                    evident truth: there is an elephant in the room. The obstinate
                    ignoring of this fact transforms these otherwise acceptable
                    activities into destructive, death-dealing pseudo-escape routes from
                    truth and reality. Said spiritually, good loses its goodness when it
                    is permitted to become the agency by which evil is left unnamed, and
                    hence allowed to engulf an ever-greater area of life.

                    It is not exaggeration to assert that the greatest scandal and
                    distortion of Christianity – Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant,
                    Evangelical – over the last 1,700 years has been its enormous
                    participation in and justifications of homicidal violence and enmity
                    as consistent with following the Nonviolent Jesus of the Gospels and
                    His Way of Nonviolent Love of friends and enemies. Yet, it is a
                    scandal and a distortion that almost no Christian or Church will
                    publicly admit exists. Decade after decade, century after century
                    for 1,700 years the Churches' ecclesiastical structures, sacramental
                    systems and theological faculties have been handed over by Church
                    leaders to the local nationalisms, ethnocentrisms and militarisms
                    for support of the evil of war. The amount of "Jesus approved"
                    misery and cruelty that Christians have wreaked upon each other, as
                    well as upon non-Christians, is beyond human computation or
                    comprehension. But "somehow," generation after generation, a
                    leadership arises in the various Churches and a laity is nurtured
                    through the various Churches that do not care to perceive the
                    spiritual, theological or moral preposterousness of receiving Holy
                    Communion at a pre-battle Eucharist at 9 a.m., in preparation for
                    savaging human beings, including fellow Christians, at 11 a.m.

                    Regardless of how blatant the inconsistency has become between the
                    reality of war and Jesus and His teachings, few Christians, since
                    the time of Constantine, have stood up and said, "There is an
                    elephantine evil, a monstrous untruth operating in the Church and it
                    is ruining everything." Consider this verbatim excerpt, as recorded
                    in an on-site documentary film, of a Marine Sergeant instructing his
                    trainees:

                    Sergeant: What is a mine? A mine is no more or less than an
                    explosive or chemical substance that is designed or made to destroy
                    and kill the enemy. You want to rip out his eyeballs. You want to
                    tear apart his love machine. You want to destroy him, privates. You
                    don't want nothin' left of him. You want to send him home in a trash
                    bag to his mommy.

                    Trainees in unison scream: Yeah! Yeah!

                    This is not abnormal talk in the world of military training and war.
                    The normal in that world, all over the world, is the intentional
                    nurturing of human beings into states of unempathethic cruelty and
                    false conscience. Military training is a conversion process but it
                    is not a conversion process that has as its goal "putting on the
                    mind of Christ." It is rather a nurturing process that has as its
                    end getting human beings to put on a mind that is as far removed
                    from the mind of Christ as heaven is from hell. If as General
                    Sherman says "War is hell" – and it is – it is hell because military
                    training has hard-wired hellish myths, attitudes, beliefs, values
                    and behavior patterns into recruits that make them able and willing
                    to spread hell on earth. As the mother of a Marine convicted of
                    killing civilians in Iraq said to the press after the scapegoat
                    conviction of her son: "I gave them a good boy and they gave me back
                    a murderer." Yet, Christian Churches and their leaders – minus a
                    tiny number of denominations who believe that Jesus cannot be
                    followed by engaging in human slaughter – have for 1700 years, right
                    up to this very hour, been blind to the blatant contradiction
                    between the way of war and the Way of Jesus, as well as, blind to
                    the enormity of the wickedness that is unleashed by proclaiming that
                    these are morally compatible or complementary options.
                    Concomitantly, Church leaders have been jadedly nonchalant about the
                    gutting that is done to individual souls and to the Church by
                    participation in and justification of this flagrantly un-Christ-
                    like, diabolical conversion process known as military training – and
                    the inevitable and infernal consequences that necessarily ensue from
                    it.

                    Why Churches – leaders and members – resolutely refuse to look at
                    and acknowledge the Himalayan discordance between what Jesus taught
                    about violence and enmity and what they are chronically teaching and
                    justifying about violence and enmity in His name is an enigma
                    demanding investigation. Seen from the perspective of social
                    pathology, it appears to be a process whereby a group and its
                    leaders persuade themselves, contrary to overwhelming evidence, to
                    believe what they know is not the truth. It is a people convincing
                    itself by contorted and tortuous methods of rationalization that the
                    heinous is the Christ-like – or at least not incompatible with the
                    Way of Jesus. It is individuals with group support and leadership
                    encouragement telling each other that there is nothing to be seen –
                    factually, morally and spiritually – when they know very well there
                    is something unbearably distressing to be seen factually, morally
                    and spiritually. It is the alcoholic and his or her family
                    tenaciously avoiding the unwanted truth that "There is an elephant
                    in the room and it is ruining everything," by dogmatically
                    maintaining that there is "No problem."

                    Franz Jägerstätter's schooling ended when he was fourteen. He could
                    not articulate a formal theology of Gospel nonviolence nor could he
                    articulate a formal just war theology. How could he possibly be
                    expected to, when even today most Christians are taught little or
                    nothing – or outright falsehoods about both? Yet after two periods
                    of military training, he permanently turned away from the only war
                    and military operation he ever encountered; one which had the
                    enthusiastic endorsement of his fellow Austrian and German
                    Christians. He made this decision on the basis that participation
                    would be a betrayal of his Lord and could seriously jeopardize his
                    eternal destiny.

                    While prelates of distinction and theologians of renown were
                    ceaselessly and publicly intoning, "Heil Hitler," Jägerstätter was
                    literally saying, "Pfui Hitler." While self-designated
                    Christian "realists" were expounding their theories on why it was
                    necessary to cooperate with evil in order to save the Church and the
                    world, Jägerstätter was observing:

                    Are we Christians today perhaps wiser than Christ Himself? Does
                    anyone really think that this massive bloodletting can possibly save
                    European Christianity from defeat – or bring it to a new flowering?
                    Did our good Saviour, whom we should always try to imitate, go forth
                    with His apostles against the heathens as German Christians are
                    doing today?

                    While sophisticated religious propagandists for the government and
                    military were telling people that St. Paul teaches in Romans 13,
                    that Christians are "to obey authorities," Jägerstätter was
                    responding "but only to the extent that they do not order anything
                    evil, for we must obey God rather than men." In short almost alone
                    among the Christians of Austria and Germany, he pointed out that
                    there was an elephant in the Church!

                    The actual movements of mind and heart that empowered Franz
                    Jägerstätter to see the obvious can never be known with certainty
                    this side of eternity. As would be expected, his consciousness and
                    conscience evolved as the crisis intensified and as the imperative
                    to choose became more pressing. While there is hearsay and
                    circumstantial evidence of various degrees of credibility concerning
                    his internal religious development, as well as much sheer
                    speculation, he in fact left only a few letters and reflections.
                    However, from these we can garner glimpses of what was going on
                    inside of him during his via dolorosa and of where he had arrived by
                    its end. For example, in his prison statement, composed shortly
                    before he was to be legally murdered, he wrote:

                    Just as those who believe in National Socialism tell themselves that
                    their struggle is for survival, so must we, too, convince ourselves
                    that our struggle is for the eternal Kingdom. But with this
                    difference: we need no rifles or pistols for our battle, but
                    instead, spiritual weapons – and the foremost among these is prayer.

                    He concludes this prison statement with these most soul-revealing
                    words:

                    Let us love our enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those
                    who persecute us. For love will conquer and will endure for all
                    eternity. And happy are they who live and die in God's love.

                    All Austrians and Germans, of course, would have heard the same
                    Gospel that Jägerstätter heard, but it seems from what his neighbors
                    report that he read it and re-read it, pondered it and prayed over
                    it as few of them did. Via this grace-saturated search for the truth
                    of God and God's Will through Jesus, culturally manufactured Gospel-
                    blinders dropped from his eyes. The elephant of evil became so
                    visible that he was compelled to speak the truth he saw and, if
                    necessary, follow Jesus to a criminal's death for acting on it. He
                    simply could not continue to make-believe that he didn't know what
                    he did know.

                    Franz Jägerstätter, then, is not only a Christian martyr, he is also
                    a chosen prophet of the The Holy One, Blessed be He. The Hebrew
                    prophets are not fortune tellers nor are they persons who simply
                    speak their own minds and conjectures. They explicitly speak the
                    universally applicable Word (Logos) of God to concrete situations.
                    By God's grace they vividly see what others profess not to see,
                    namely, rebellion against God in the here and now. The authentic
                    prophet warns of the inevitable and disastrous outcome that will
                    result, if present choice patterns remain unaltered. He puts on-
                    notice those who have been given eyes to see and minds to
                    understand, that it is now absolutely necessary to use those eyes
                    and minds to see, name and turn from an evil, which is being
                    marketed in pseudo-Divine packaging. In short, prophets in the
                    Biblical sense are the ones sent by God to try to open the eyes of
                    the minds and the hearts of a people who adamantly refuse to look
                    and see that "There is an elephant in the room and it is ruining
                    everything."

                    For Israel, the Church or the world, the consequence for dismissing
                    a prophet is devastation beyond all calculation, where the prayer of
                    people becomes "Lord, let the mountains fall on us." The fruit of
                    heeding a prophet, however, is life in a fullness that cannot be
                    conceived beforehand.

                    The critical question then is this: Is Franz Jägerstätter a true
                    prophet or is he a false prophet? Is he a communicator of God's
                    Will, Way and warning to the Churches and to the world, or is he a
                    deluded instrument of a religious mirage? The method of discerning
                    this matter would be to prayerfully ponder three particulars: First,
                    Franz Jägerstätter's life, e.g., by way of Gordon Zahn's book, In
                    Solitary Witness, or via the film The Refusal; Second, the realities
                    of military training and war; Third, the Jesus of the Gospels and
                    His Way. It might also be helpful in this day and age of well-paid
                    and highly funded, professional-religious propagandists to take with
                    eternal life and death seriousness what the Biblical scholar, the
                    late Rev. John L. McKenzie, presents as criteria by which one
                    distinguishes the true from the false prophet:

                    The false prophet may be sincere, but, he is nonetheless false.
                    Because he lacks the prophetic insight into the moral will of Yahweh
                    and the reality of sin, the false prophet sees no evil where it is…
                    (H)e has no conception of the sweeping and rigorous justice with
                    which Yahweh governs. He speaks less than the truth and perverts
                    sound religious belief to merely national and personal good.

                    For my part, I accept Jägerstätter as authentically prophetic. Like
                    the prophet John the Baptist he is legally beheaded for not giving
                    evil a religious license to masquerade as good. But, is he a prophet
                    only to the village of St. Radegund or to Austria during World War
                    II? Or, is God speaking today to the entire Church – Catholic,
                    Orthodox, Protestant, Evangelical – and to the world through Franz
                    Jägerstätter? From the eyes of God's anawim – the brutalized and
                    ruined victims of the present-day Masters of the World – are there
                    military and political phenomena currently taking place that are
                    every bit as monstrously heinous as anything which Franz
                    Jägerstätter refused to be conscripted into, every bit as anti-
                    Gospel as anything which he spoke against out of fidelity to Jesus
                    and His Way? And how about from the eyes of the average bishop,
                    priest, minister or Christian?

                    It is incontestable that the elephant of justified Christian
                    homicidal violence and enmity entered the Church in the Fourth
                    Century. Since then it has become a permanent fixture in almost all
                    the Churches – First World, Second World, Third World and Fourth
                    World. It is equally incontrovertible that despite its monstrous,
                    incongruous, cruel and polluting presence within the Churches of
                    Christianity, it remains all but morally invisible to eyes clouded
                    by the nurtured deceits of nationalisms, ethnocentrisms, militarisms
                    and the delusions of power, prestige and prerogative – all
                    camouflaged in religious verbiage and display. Franz Jägerstätter's
                    witness and martyrdom are then a graceful, continuing down to this
                    hour, prophetic communication from God to all of Christianity, and
                    indeed to the world. His is a transparently clear witness and
                    prophetic communicator, to each Christian and to each Church – and
                    to humanity – to simply say, "No," to that which is not in
                    conformity with the Will and Way of God as revealed by Jesus. This
                    communication to the Church throughout the world today is as
                    urgently needed as it was to the Church in Germany in 1943 or to the
                    Church in Rome in 416.

                    However, before bishops, priests, ministers, pastors and Christians
                    in general will be able to say that heroic, "No," they will, like
                    Franz Jägerstätter, have to first choose to see. They will have to
                    choose to see with the eyes of their hearts, as well as with the
                    eyes of their minds. They will have to choose to see that the death-
                    dealing elephant of justified violence and enmity has entered the
                    Church and has been elevated by Church leaders and Christians to an
                    ethical status equal to or superior to Jesus and His Way. They will
                    have to choose to see that this Christian equivalent of the Hebrews'
                    golden calf has ruined and is ruining almost everything that, the
                    Father through Jesus, wants to do for all His infinitely loved sons
                    and daughters – each and every one of whom He drew out of
                    nothingness for the gift of Eternal Life with Him.
                  • holderlin66
                    Bradford brought; The playing field today, right now, currently, when we BE HERE NOW, is that in 2007 we are looking at Good Germans, Nazis and Leo Strauss
                    Message 9 of 14 , Oct 15, 2007

                      Bradford brought;
                      "The playing field today, right now, currently, when we BE HERE NOW, is that in 2007 we are looking at Good Germans, Nazis and Leo Strauss and now good Americans, good Anthros and utterly Nominalists and Arabistic, ahriman John the Baptist Neocons. What had happened to Germany is now happening in America. Neoplatonism, Aristotle and the Islamic spread of Arabistic, tainted Aristotle.... that Thomas Aquinas knew in his heart and soul would not lead to the etheric observational skills that fully arose in Steiner and partially arose in Goethe made St. Thomas fight the invasion of the icy Ahrimanic forces that spread from Nominalism and Arabistic thinking into the intellectual Soul.  Today the Sentient Soul and Intellectual Soul are tapped and trapped in a MSM bubble swirling with SPIN, lies and absolute evil intent.  And the Good American, while upset, finds the overthrow of such murdering monsters, discomforting. How do we get rid of something that one remembers how powerfully Steiner fought to thrust back the invading darkness... "

                      The "Good Germans" Among Us
                          By Frank Rich
                          The New York Times

                          Sunday 14 October 2007

                          "Bush lies" doesn't cut it anymore. It's time to confront the darker reality that we are lying to ourselves.

                          Ten days ago The Times unearthed yet another round of secret Department of Justice memos countenancing torture. President Bush gave his standard response: "This government does not torture people." Of course, it all depends on what the meaning of "torture" is. The whole point of these memos is to repeatedly recalibrate the definition so Mr. Bush can keep pleading innocent.

                          By any legal standards except those rubber-stamped by Alberto Gonzales, we are practicing torture, and we have known we are doing so ever since photographic proof emerged from Abu Ghraib more than three years ago. As Andrew Sullivan, once a Bush cheerleader, observed last weekend in The Sunday Times of London, America's "enhanced interrogation" techniques have a grotesque provenance: "Verschärfte Vernehmung, enhanced or intensified interrogation, was the exact term innovated by the Gestapo to describe what became known as the ëthird degree.' It left no marks. It included hypothermia, stress positions and long-time sleep deprivation."

                          Still, the drill remains the same. The administration gives its alibi (Abu Ghraib was just a few bad apples). A few members of Congress squawk. The debate is labeled "politics." We turn the page.

                          There has been scarcely more response to the similarly recurrent story of apparent war crimes committed by our contractors in Iraq. Call me cynical, but when Laura Bush spoke up last week about the human rights atrocities in Burma, it seemed less an act of selfless humanitarianism than another administration maneuver to change the subject from its own abuses.

                          As Mrs. Bush spoke, two women, both Armenian Christians, were gunned down in Baghdad by contractors underwritten by American taxpayers. On this matter, the White House has been silent. That incident followed the Sept. 16 massacre in Baghdad's Nisour Square, where 17 Iraqis were killed by security forces from Blackwater USA, which had already been implicated in nearly 200 other shooting incidents since 2005. There has been no accountability. The State Department, Blackwater's sugar daddy for most of its billion dollars in contracts, won't even share its investigative findings with the United States military and the Iraqi government, both of which have deemed the killings criminal.

                          The gunmen who mowed down the two Christian women worked for a Dubai-based company managed by Australians, registered in Singapore and enlisted as a subcontractor by an American contractor headquartered in North Carolina. This is a plot out of "Syriana" by way of "Chinatown." There will be no trial. We will never find out what happened. A new bill passed by the House to regulate contractor behavior will have little effect, even if it becomes law in its current form.

                          We can continue to blame the Bush administration for the horrors of Iraq — and should. Paul Bremer, our post-invasion viceroy and the recipient of a Presidential Medal of Freedom for his efforts, issued the order that allows contractors to elude Iraqi law, a folly second only to his disbanding of the Iraqi Army. But we must also examine our own responsibility for the hideous acts committed in our name in a war where we have now fought longer than we did in the one that put Verschärfte Vernehmung on the map.

                          I have always maintained that the American public was the least culpable of the players during the run-up to Iraq. The war was sold by a brilliant and fear-fueled White House propaganda campaign designed to stampede a nation still shellshocked by 9/11. Both Congress and the press — the powerful institutions that should have provided the checks, balances and due diligence of the administration's case — failed to do their job. Had they done so, more Americans might have raised more objections. This perfect storm of democratic failure began at the top.

                          As the war has dragged on, it is hard to give Americans en masse a pass. We are too slow to notice, let alone protest, the calamities that have followed the original sin.

                          In April 2004, Stars and Stripes first reported that our troops were using makeshift vehicle armor fashioned out of sandbags, yet when a soldier complained to Donald Rumsfeld at a town meeting in Kuwait eight months later, he was successfully pilloried by the right. Proper armor procurement lagged for months more to come. Not until early this year, four years after the war's first casualties, did a Washington Post investigation finally focus the country's attention on the shoddy treatment of veterans, many of them victims of inadequate armor, at Walter Reed Army Medical Center and other military hospitals.

                          We first learned of the use of contractors as mercenaries when four Blackwater employees were strung up in Falluja in March 2004, just weeks before the first torture photos emerged from Abu Ghraib. We asked few questions. When reports surfaced early this summer that our contractors in Iraq (180,000, of whom some 48,000 are believed to be security personnel) now outnumber our postsurge troop strength, we yawned. Contractor casualties and contractor-inflicted casualties are kept off the books.

                          It was always the White House's plan to coax us into a blissful ignorance about the war. Part of this was achieved with the usual Bush-Cheney secretiveness, from the torture memos to the prohibition of photos of military coffins. But the administration also invited our passive complicity by requiring no shared sacrifice. A country that knows there's no such thing as a free lunch was all too easily persuaded there could be a free war.

                          Instead of taxing us for Iraq, the White House bought us off with tax cuts. Instead of mobilizing the needed troops, it kept a draft off the table by quietly purchasing its auxiliary army of contractors to finesse the overstretched military's holes. With the war's entire weight falling on a small voluntary force, amounting to less than 1 percent of the population, the rest of us were free to look the other way at whatever went down in Iraq.

                          We ignored the contractor scandal to our own peril. Ever since Falluja this auxiliary army has been a leading indicator of every element of the war's failure: not only our inadequate troop strength but also our alienation of Iraqi hearts and minds and our rampant outsourcing to contractors rife with Bush-Cheney cronies and campaign contributors. Contractors remain a bellwether of the war's progress today. When Blackwater was briefly suspended after the Nisour Square catastrophe, American diplomats were flatly forbidden from leaving the fortified Green Zone. So much for the surge's great "success" in bringing security to Baghdad.

                          Last week Paul Rieckhoff, an Iraq war combat veteran who directs Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, sketched for me the apocalypse to come. Should Baghdad implode, our contractors, not having to answer to the military chain of command, can simply "drop their guns and go home." Vulnerable American troops could be deserted by those "who deliver their bullets and beans."

                          This potential scenario is just one example of why it's in our national self-interest to attend to Iraq policy the White House counts on us to ignore. Our national character is on the line too. The extralegal contractors are both a slap at the sovereignty of the self-governing Iraq we supposedly support and an insult to those in uniform receiving as little as one-sixth the pay. Yet it took mass death in Nisour Square to fix even our fleeting attention on this long-metastasizing cancer in our battle plan.

                          Similarly, it took until December 2005, two and a half years after "Mission Accomplished," for Mr. Bush to feel sufficient public pressure to acknowledge the large number of Iraqi casualties in the war. Even now, despite his repeated declaration that "America will not abandon the Iraqi people," he has yet to address or intervene decisively in the tragedy of four million-plus Iraqi refugees, a disproportionate number of them children. He feels no pressure from the American public to do so, but hey, he pays lip service to Darfur.

                          Our moral trajectory over the Bush years could not be better dramatized than it was by a reunion of an elite group of two dozen World War II veterans in Washington this month. They were participants in a top-secret operation to interrogate some 4,000 Nazi prisoners of war. Until now, they have kept silent, but America's recent record prompted them to talk to The Washington Post.

                          "We got more information out of a German general with a game of chess or Ping-Pong than they do today, with their torture," said Henry Kolm, 90, an M.I.T. physicist whose interrogation of Rudolf Hess, Hitler's deputy, took place over a chessboard. George Frenkel, 87, recalled that he "never laid hands on anyone" in his many interrogations, adding, "I'm proud to say I never compromised my humanity."

                          Our humanity has been compromised by those who use Gestapo tactics in our war. The longer we stand idly by while they do so, the more we resemble those "good Germans" who professed ignorance of their own Gestapo. It's up to us to wake up our somnambulant Congress to challenge administration policy every day. Let the war's last supporters filibuster all night if they want to. There is nothing left to lose except whatever remains of our country's good name."

                    • Nina
                      ... Dear Bradford, This morning found Parabola winter 2002 (had fallen behind shelf unread) on WAR . Thank-you for all that you share here. Wish your
                      Message 10 of 14 , Oct 15, 2007
                        --- In anthroposophy@yahoogroups.com, "holderlin66" <holderlin66@...
                        > The life of Franz Jägerstätter was the ordinary life of an Austrian
                        > farmer in the village of St. Radegund. He was a devout Catholic, a
                        > daily communicant who prayed the rosary while doing farm chores.
                        > Sexton of his parish church, he was married and had three children.
                        > But, on August 9, 1943 Franz Jägerstätter's life became other than
                        > ordinary, when he was legally killed by the German Military for
                        > refusing to kill for the German Military.

                        Dear Bradford,
                        This morning found Parabola winter 2002 (had fallen behind shelf
                        unread) on "WAR". Thank-you for all that you share here. Wish your
                        commentary was in the magazine.NINA
                      • joksu57
                        Dear Bradford! Many thanks for your posts and especially from the one that was dealing with Franz Jägerstätter. This article and the information about the
                        Message 11 of 14 , Oct 16, 2007
                          Dear Bradford!


                          Many thanks for your posts and especially from the one that was
                          dealing with Franz Jägerstätter. This article and the information
                          about the writer ( Rev. Emmanuel Charles McCarthy) really saved my
                          day! There is still hope for humanity, when at least some people can
                          see the huge "elephant in the room" (connecting the name of Jesus
                          Christ to practices of war and violence – a suprime act of
                          jesuitism!).

                          Why is the vision of so many "christians" and churches so clouded?
                          One reason is shear ignorance of some historical facts. It is widely
                          known that the early christians were percecuted, but why were they
                          persecuted after all? There was freedom to choose your religion in
                          the Roman Empire. The early (and real) christians follewed the
                          example and teachings of Jesus Christ, so e.g. they didn't go to
                          Roman legions (= no military service), they did not give an oath to
                          Ceasar. This was considered an dangerous act against the "state" (and
                          it is still considered so!) and there was a real reason for the
                          persecutions. (A proper reason was not the one where a group of
                          people respected a carpenter's son as a Son of God.)

                          Because of the heroic loyalty of the early christians the amount of
                          martyrs increased, but christianity kept on spreading. Then the Roman
                          Empire changed its tactics: a new and promising offer was made –
                          christianity could become the sole religion, a state religion. The
                          christians could then return a "small favour" to the emperor – forget
                          the ethical core of their new religion and join the ranks of the
                          Roman legions. (And later a bonus to persecute "legally" the so
                          called heretics.) The bait was accepted as every one knows.

                          The situation is confused even more, when later in the same book
                          (Bible) can be found The Old Testament and The New Testament. In some
                          of the stories of the OT the "Lord" is a revengeful character, full
                          of hate, anger and violence. The Heavenly Father proclaimed by Jesus
                          Christ is giving the same sunshine to good and evil alike. Believing
                          that the god of the OT is the same as the Heavenly Father proclaimed
                          by Jesus Christ is an act of swallowing another elephant.

                          Christianity has adopted the commandments of Moses as the ethical
                          base (except the "thou shalt not kill –commandment" - but that is
                          understandable , when one thinks that a certain "Lord" in some
                          stories of OT got very angry, when all "prisoners of war" including
                          women and children were not immediaty slaughtered after victory).

                          It has remained in the oblivion that also Jesus Christ gave His own
                          commandments in The Sermon of the Mount. The double commandment of
                          love is widely known – we should love God and love our fellowman with
                          the same love that Jesus Christ loved us. But the nature of this love
                          has evaded us, perhaps partly so because the five specific new
                          commandments are usually unknown to us. Already Leo Tolstoy talked
                          about these new commandments and Mr. Ervast has condensed them in his
                          book "The Sermon on the Mount or the Key to Christianity" in
                          following manner:

                          1) Be not angry
                          2) Be pure even in thy thoughts
                          3) Swear not
                          4) Resist not evil
                          5) War not, but love all men.

                          (This book can be read from the net site www.pekkaervast.net . There
                          is a translation from the original greek text and many illuminating
                          commentaries.)

                          The question about war and nonviolence is basically an individual
                          question, not a political one. Those who have "ears to hear" can
                          follow Christ practically, not only theoretically. Is it a too
                          demanding assumptiom that at least some thruthseekers, who understand
                          life through the concepts of karma and re-incarnation (and even that
                          karma is now changing "in the Hand of Christ"), can begin to build
                          their life on the new corner stone given to us by Christ Jesus: Do
                          not resist evil, do not be against evil". And this does not mean
                          succumbing to evil; it means winning over evil - not fighting it.

                          Faith is not needed in the connection of some intellectual (or
                          absurd) dogmas, but it is a good thing to have faith in the ethical
                          ideals given to us in the Sermon of the Mount: goodness, pureness,
                          thruth, peace and love.

                          Warm Greetings: Joksu



                          --- In anthroposophy@yahoogroups.com, "holderlin66" <holderlin66@...>
                          wrote:
                          >
                          > War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious
                          > objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior
                          > does today.
                          >
                          > ~ John F. Kennedy
                          >
                          > The life of Franz Jägerstätter was the ordinary life of an Austrian
                          > farmer in the village of St. Radegund. He was a devout Catholic, a
                          > daily communicant who prayed the rosary while doing farm chores.
                          > Sexton of his parish church, he was married and had three children.
                          > But, on August 9, 1943 Franz Jägerstätter's life became other than
                          > ordinary, when he was legally killed by the German Military for
                          > refusing to kill for the German Military.
                          >
                          > http://www.lewrockwell.com/orig7/mccarthy7.html
                          >
                          > At the hour of his death few people knew him and no one who did
                          know
                          > him supported him in his refusal to engage in homicide for the
                          > Führer. Legions of Christians of all ranks told him to do his duty
                          > and go to war like the other Christian men. His bishop, pastor and
                          > spiritual advisors endeavored to persuade him that his
                          conscientious
                          > objection was a wrong and futile course, even possibly sinful and
                          > contrary to Church teaching. He was looked upon as the
                          embarrassing,
                          > if not mentally unstable, polar opposite of the heroic Aryan
                          > warrior. However, with a courage that, even on an exclusively human
                          > plane, was noble, heart-rending and eminently inspiring, he gently
                          > stood firm and said, "No," to joining the German military. So it
                          can
                          > be said with certitude, that when the blade of the guillotine fell
                          > at Brandenburg Prison near Berlin at 4 p.m. on August 9, 1943,
                          Franz
                          > Jägerstätter was totally alone, almost totally unknown and destined
                          > to be totally forgotten.
                          >
                          > However, as a manifestation of how the mystery and power of God's
                          > plan for the redemption of all people through Jesus Christ
                          > inexorably advances in history, on this coming October 26th
                          > throughout the world millions of people will stop, think about and
                          > be touched by this man. They may disagree among themselves about
                          > historical details of his life but no one will doubt that the
                          finger
                          > of God was operative here – and operative not just for the
                          salvation
                          > of Franz Jägerstätter but also for the good of the Church and
                          > through the Church for the good of all people. For on October 26,
                          > 2007, the Catholic Church will formerly Beatify Franz Jägerstätter
                          > as a martyr of the Christian faith. His Beatification will close
                          > forever for all Catholics, and hopefully for all Christians, any
                          > thought that they can obey the laws of a nation or the orders of an
                          > agent of a state if what is required to obey is doing that which is
                          > not in conformity with the Will of God as revealed by Jesus, the
                          > Word (Logos) of God "made flesh." The Beatification of
                          > this "destined to be forgotten" man will be the incarnational and
                          > liturgical underlining in blood-red of one of the most ignored
                          > tenets of Gospel morality and one of the most ignored text of the
                          > Catechism of the Catholic Church (§2242):
                          >
                          > The citizen is obliged in conscience not to follow the directions
                          of
                          > civil authorities when they are contrary to the demands of the
                          moral
                          > order, the fundamental rights of persons or the Gospel. Refusing
                          > obedience to civil authorities, when their demands are contrary to
                          > those of an upright conscience, finds its justification in the
                          > distinction between serving God and serving the political
                          > community. "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are
                          Caesar's,
                          > and to God the things that are God's" (Mt 22:21). "We must obey God
                          > rather than man" (Ac 5:29).
                          >
                          > The story of how a simple man, a "nobody" by the standards of
                          > the "somebodies" of this world, went from being a criminal who was
                          > executed by his government for declining to partake in a nation's
                          > war, to being a person who was officially discussed at the Second
                          > Vatican Council, to being a figure known at every point of the
                          > compass, to being a person Beatified by the Catholic Church
                          deserves
                          > the attention of everyone who struggles to understand how humanity
                          > can be extricated from this valley of tragedy and tears in which
                          > human life is ensnared. Franz Jägerstätter's witness should be
                          > especially pondered by those who believe that fidelity to the Word
                          > (Logos) of God as revealed in Jesus is "not enough" to make an
                          > essential difference in the human situation, and by those who
                          > believe that Christianity must proclaim a "realistic gospel" of
                          evil
                          > renamed, rationalized and accepted as good, if it is to be
                          effective
                          > in this world. So, here on the threshold of Franz Jägerstätter's
                          > Beatification, I hope to make visible the prophetic purpose and
                          > meaning of his life and death. I hope to illuminate the salvific
                          > communication from God for which he was the chosen instrument – the
                          > chosen instrument who nevertheless had to choose to see and to act.
                          >
                          > Years ago I viewed a public service advertisement on television,
                          > which I suspect many others have seen. It was produced by a
                          > rehabilitation group for alcoholics. Its intention was to open the
                          > eyes of people whose families had become dysfunctional because they
                          > were denying a fact that was self-evident to the whole world,
                          > namely, that someone in the family was an alcoholic and that the
                          > unwillingness on the part of the alcoholic and his family to
                          > acknowledge this was gravely distorting, indeed ravaging, domestic
                          > life.
                          >
                          > In the ad a family is relaxing in its living room. The father
                          > reclines in an easy chair perusing the newspaper. The mother sits
                          on
                          > the couch sewing. A little girl watches TV. All of a sudden an
                          > elephant enters the living room and begins to upset things with
                          > almost every move. By the time the ad concludes, the family's world
                          > has been turned upside-down. The father's easy chair is tipped
                          over,
                          > he is sprawled on the floor, his glasses are broken but he
                          continues
                          > to try to read the newspaper. The mother lies on the couch
                          > underneath a busted lamp struggling to re-thread a needle and the
                          > little girl peeks around the elephant in order to watch a now
                          > crushed television set. Yet, in spite of this shattering breakdown
                          > in community life, no one is willing to acknowledge and speak the
                          > plain truth: "There is an elephant in the room and it is ruining
                          > everything."
                          >
                          > All continue to remain oblivious to the obvious. Like people
                          > myopically concerned with making the beds correctly in a burning
                          > house, everyone's attention is entirely absorbed by incidental
                          > tasks, which would be proper and right except for one terrible self-
                          > evident truth: there is an elephant in the room. The obstinate
                          > ignoring of this fact transforms these otherwise acceptable
                          > activities into destructive, death-dealing pseudo-escape routes
                          from
                          > truth and reality. Said spiritually, good loses its goodness when
                          it
                          > is permitted to become the agency by which evil is left unnamed,
                          and
                          > hence allowed to engulf an ever-greater area of life.
                          >
                          > It is not exaggeration to assert that the greatest scandal and
                          > distortion of Christianity – Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant,
                          > Evangelical – over the last 1,700 years has been its enormous
                          > participation in and justifications of homicidal violence and
                          enmity
                          > as consistent with following the Nonviolent Jesus of the Gospels
                          and
                          > His Way of Nonviolent Love of friends and enemies. Yet, it is a
                          > scandal and a distortion that almost no Christian or Church will
                          > publicly admit exists. Decade after decade, century after century
                          > for 1,700 years the Churches' ecclesiastical structures,
                          sacramental
                          > systems and theological faculties have been handed over by Church
                          > leaders to the local nationalisms, ethnocentrisms and militarisms
                          > for support of the evil of war. The amount of "Jesus approved"
                          > misery and cruelty that Christians have wreaked upon each other, as
                          > well as upon non-Christians, is beyond human computation or
                          > comprehension. But "somehow," generation after generation, a
                          > leadership arises in the various Churches and a laity is nurtured
                          > through the various Churches that do not care to perceive the
                          > spiritual, theological or moral preposterousness of receiving Holy
                          > Communion at a pre-battle Eucharist at 9 a.m., in preparation for
                          > savaging human beings, including fellow Christians, at 11 a.m.
                          >
                          > Regardless of how blatant the inconsistency has become between the
                          > reality of war and Jesus and His teachings, few Christians, since
                          > the time of Constantine, have stood up and said, "There is an
                          > elephantine evil, a monstrous untruth operating in the Church and
                          it
                          > is ruining everything." Consider this verbatim excerpt, as recorded
                          > in an on-site documentary film, of a Marine Sergeant instructing
                          his
                          > trainees:
                          >
                          > Sergeant: What is a mine? A mine is no more or less than an
                          > explosive or chemical substance that is designed or made to destroy
                          > and kill the enemy. You want to rip out his eyeballs. You want to
                          > tear apart his love machine. You want to destroy him, privates. You
                          > don't want nothin' left of him. You want to send him home in a
                          trash
                          > bag to his mommy.
                          >
                          > Trainees in unison scream: Yeah! Yeah!
                          >
                          > This is not abnormal talk in the world of military training and
                          war.
                          > The normal in that world, all over the world, is the intentional
                          > nurturing of human beings into states of unempathethic cruelty and
                          > false conscience. Military training is a conversion process but it
                          > is not a conversion process that has as its goal "putting on the
                          > mind of Christ." It is rather a nurturing process that has as its
                          > end getting human beings to put on a mind that is as far removed
                          > from the mind of Christ as heaven is from hell. If as General
                          > Sherman says "War is hell" – and it is – it is hell because
                          military
                          > training has hard-wired hellish myths, attitudes, beliefs, values
                          > and behavior patterns into recruits that make them able and willing
                          > to spread hell on earth. As the mother of a Marine convicted of
                          > killing civilians in Iraq said to the press after the scapegoat
                          > conviction of her son: "I gave them a good boy and they gave me
                          back
                          > a murderer." Yet, Christian Churches and their leaders – minus a
                          > tiny number of denominations who believe that Jesus cannot be
                          > followed by engaging in human slaughter – have for 1700 years,
                          right
                          > up to this very hour, been blind to the blatant contradiction
                          > between the way of war and the Way of Jesus, as well as, blind to
                          > the enormity of the wickedness that is unleashed by proclaiming
                          that
                          > these are morally compatible or complementary options.
                          > Concomitantly, Church leaders have been jadedly nonchalant about
                          the
                          > gutting that is done to individual souls and to the Church by
                          > participation in and justification of this flagrantly un-Christ-
                          > like, diabolical conversion process known as military training –
                          and
                          > the inevitable and infernal consequences that necessarily ensue
                          from
                          > it.
                          >
                          > Why Churches – leaders and members – resolutely refuse to look at
                          > and acknowledge the Himalayan discordance between what Jesus taught
                          > about violence and enmity and what they are chronically teaching
                          and
                          > justifying about violence and enmity in His name is an enigma
                          > demanding investigation. Seen from the perspective of social
                          > pathology, it appears to be a process whereby a group and its
                          > leaders persuade themselves, contrary to overwhelming evidence, to
                          > believe what they know is not the truth. It is a people convincing
                          > itself by contorted and tortuous methods of rationalization that
                          the
                          > heinous is the Christ-like – or at least not incompatible with the
                          > Way of Jesus. It is individuals with group support and leadership
                          > encouragement telling each other that there is nothing to be seen –
                          > factually, morally and spiritually – when they know very well there
                          > is something unbearably distressing to be seen factually, morally
                          > and spiritually. It is the alcoholic and his or her family
                          > tenaciously avoiding the unwanted truth that "There is an elephant
                          > in the room and it is ruining everything," by dogmatically
                          > maintaining that there is "No problem."
                          >
                          > Franz Jägerstätter's schooling ended when he was fourteen. He could
                          > not articulate a formal theology of Gospel nonviolence nor could he
                          > articulate a formal just war theology. How could he possibly be
                          > expected to, when even today most Christians are taught little or
                          > nothing – or outright falsehoods about both? Yet after two periods
                          > of military training, he permanently turned away from the only war
                          > and military operation he ever encountered; one which had the
                          > enthusiastic endorsement of his fellow Austrian and German
                          > Christians. He made this decision on the basis that participation
                          > would be a betrayal of his Lord and could seriously jeopardize his
                          > eternal destiny.
                          >
                          > While prelates of distinction and theologians of renown were
                          > ceaselessly and publicly intoning, "Heil Hitler," Jägerstätter was
                          > literally saying, "Pfui Hitler." While self-designated
                          > Christian "realists" were expounding their theories on why it was
                          > necessary to cooperate with evil in order to save the Church and
                          the
                          > world, Jägerstätter was observing:
                          >
                          > Are we Christians today perhaps wiser than Christ Himself? Does
                          > anyone really think that this massive bloodletting can possibly
                          save
                          > European Christianity from defeat – or bring it to a new flowering?
                          > Did our good Saviour, whom we should always try to imitate, go
                          forth
                          > with His apostles against the heathens as German Christians are
                          > doing today?
                          >
                          > While sophisticated religious propagandists for the government and
                          > military were telling people that St. Paul teaches in Romans 13,
                          > that Christians are "to obey authorities," Jägerstätter was
                          > responding "but only to the extent that they do not order anything
                          > evil, for we must obey God rather than men." In short almost alone
                          > among the Christians of Austria and Germany, he pointed out that
                          > there was an elephant in the Church!
                          >
                          > The actual movements of mind and heart that empowered Franz
                          > Jägerstätter to see the obvious can never be known with certainty
                          > this side of eternity. As would be expected, his consciousness and
                          > conscience evolved as the crisis intensified and as the imperative
                          > to choose became more pressing. While there is hearsay and
                          > circumstantial evidence of various degrees of credibility
                          concerning
                          > his internal religious development, as well as much sheer
                          > speculation, he in fact left only a few letters and reflections.
                          > However, from these we can garner glimpses of what was going on
                          > inside of him during his via dolorosa and of where he had arrived
                          by
                          > its end. For example, in his prison statement, composed shortly
                          > before he was to be legally murdered, he wrote:
                          >
                          > Just as those who believe in National Socialism tell themselves
                          that
                          > their struggle is for survival, so must we, too, convince ourselves
                          > that our struggle is for the eternal Kingdom. But with this
                          > difference: we need no rifles or pistols for our battle, but
                          > instead, spiritual weapons – and the foremost among these is prayer.
                          >
                          > He concludes this prison statement with these most soul-revealing
                          > words:
                          >
                          > Let us love our enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those
                          > who persecute us. For love will conquer and will endure for all
                          > eternity. And happy are they who live and die in God's love.
                          >
                          > All Austrians and Germans, of course, would have heard the same
                          > Gospel that Jägerstätter heard, but it seems from what his
                          neighbors
                          > report that he read it and re-read it, pondered it and prayed over
                          > it as few of them did. Via this grace-saturated search for the
                          truth
                          > of God and God's Will through Jesus, culturally manufactured Gospel-
                          > blinders dropped from his eyes. The elephant of evil became so
                          > visible that he was compelled to speak the truth he saw and, if
                          > necessary, follow Jesus to a criminal's death for acting on it. He
                          > simply could not continue to make-believe that he didn't know what
                          > he did know.
                          >
                          > Franz Jägerstätter, then, is not only a Christian martyr, he is
                          also
                          > a chosen prophet of the The Holy One, Blessed be He. The Hebrew
                          > prophets are not fortune tellers nor are they persons who simply
                          > speak their own minds and conjectures. They explicitly speak the
                          > universally applicable Word (Logos) of God to concrete situations.
                          > By God's grace they vividly see what others profess not to see,
                          > namely, rebellion against God in the here and now. The authentic
                          > prophet warns of the inevitable and disastrous outcome that will
                          > result, if present choice patterns remain unaltered. He puts on-
                          > notice those who have been given eyes to see and minds to
                          > understand, that it is now absolutely necessary to use those eyes
                          > and minds to see, name and turn from an evil, which is being
                          > marketed in pseudo-Divine packaging. In short, prophets in the
                          > Biblical sense are the ones sent by God to try to open the eyes of
                          > the minds and the hearts of a people who adamantly refuse to look
                          > and see that "There is an elephant in the room and it is ruining
                          > everything."
                          >
                          > For Israel, the Church or the world, the consequence for dismissing
                          > a prophet is devastation beyond all calculation, where the prayer
                          of
                          > people becomes "Lord, let the mountains fall on us." The fruit of
                          > heeding a prophet, however, is life in a fullness that cannot be
                          > conceived beforehand.
                          >
                          > The critical question then is this: Is Franz Jägerstätter a true
                          > prophet or is he a false prophet? Is he a communicator of God's
                          > Will, Way and warning to the Churches and to the world, or is he a
                          > deluded instrument of a religious mirage? The method of discerning
                          > this matter would be to prayerfully ponder three particulars:
                          First,
                          > Franz Jägerstätter's life, e.g., by way of Gordon Zahn's book, In
                          > Solitary Witness, or via the film The Refusal; Second, the
                          realities
                          > of military training and war; Third, the Jesus of the Gospels and
                          > His Way. It might also be helpful in this day and age of well-paid
                          > and highly funded, professional-religious propagandists to take
                          with
                          > eternal life and death seriousness what the Biblical scholar, the
                          > late Rev. John L. McKenzie, presents as criteria by which one
                          > distinguishes the true from the false prophet:
                          >
                          > The false prophet may be sincere, but, he is nonetheless false.
                          > Because he lacks the prophetic insight into the moral will of
                          Yahweh
                          > and the reality of sin, the false prophet sees no evil where it is…
                          > (H)e has no conception of the sweeping and rigorous justice with
                          > which Yahweh governs. He speaks less than the truth and perverts
                          > sound religious belief to merely national and personal good.
                          >
                          > For my part, I accept Jägerstätter as authentically prophetic. Like
                          > the prophet John the Baptist he is legally beheaded for not giving
                          > evil a religious license to masquerade as good. But, is he a
                          prophet
                          > only to the village of St. Radegund or to Austria during World War
                          > II? Or, is God speaking today to the entire Church – Catholic,
                          > Orthodox, Protestant, Evangelical – and to the world through Franz
                          > Jägerstätter? From the eyes of God's anawim – the brutalized and
                          > ruined victims of the present-day Masters of the World – are there
                          > military and political phenomena currently taking place that are
                          > every bit as monstrously heinous as anything which Franz
                          > Jägerstätter refused to be conscripted into, every bit as anti-
                          > Gospel as anything which he spoke against out of fidelity to Jesus
                          > and His Way? And how about from the eyes of the average bishop,
                          > priest, minister or Christian?
                          >
                          > It is incontestable that the elephant of justified Christian
                          > homicidal violence and enmity entered the Church in the Fourth
                          > Century. Since then it has become a permanent fixture in almost all
                          > the Churches – First World, Second World, Third World and Fourth
                          > World. It is equally incontrovertible that despite its monstrous,
                          > incongruous, cruel and polluting presence within the Churches of
                          > Christianity, it remains all but morally invisible to eyes clouded
                          > by the nurtured deceits of nationalisms, ethnocentrisms,
                          militarisms
                          > and the delusions of power, prestige and prerogative – all
                          > camouflaged in religious verbiage and display. Franz Jägerstätter's
                          > witness and martyrdom are then a graceful, continuing down to this
                          > hour, prophetic communication from God to all of Christianity, and
                          > indeed to the world. His is a transparently clear witness and
                          > prophetic communicator, to each Christian and to each Church – and
                          > to humanity – to simply say, "No," to that which is not in
                          > conformity with the Will and Way of God as revealed by Jesus. This
                          > communication to the Church throughout the world today is as
                          > urgently needed as it was to the Church in Germany in 1943 or to
                          the
                          > Church in Rome in 416.
                          >
                          > However, before bishops, priests, ministers, pastors and Christians
                          > in general will be able to say that heroic, "No," they will, like
                          > Franz Jägerstätter, have to first choose to see. They will have to
                          > choose to see with the eyes of their hearts, as well as with the
                          > eyes of their minds. They will have to choose to see that the death-
                          > dealing elephant of justified violence and enmity has entered the
                          > Church and has been elevated by Church leaders and Christians to an
                          > ethical status equal to or superior to Jesus and His Way. They will
                          > have to choose to see that this Christian equivalent of the
                          Hebrews'
                          > golden calf has ruined and is ruining almost everything that, the
                          > Father through Jesus, wants to do for all His infinitely loved sons
                          > and daughters – each and every one of whom He drew out of
                          > nothingness for the gift of Eternal Life with Him.
                          >
                        • holderlin66
                          Should we and could we light up Myrrh as we enter autumn? Highly advised! For with the Myrrh Tree we enter the etheric/astral sense system of Adonis and enter
                          Message 12 of 14 , Oct 16, 2007

                            Should we and could we light up Myrrh as we enter autumn?  Highly advised! For with the Myrrh Tree we enter the etheric/astral sense system of Adonis and enter the clairvoyant region where the Earth Herself nurtured the scent that overcomes decay and death itself. There is where we find Adonis and in the death of Adonis there we find the ROSE.  There we find Rosicrucianism and Christian Rosenkreuz as the Rose that has overcome death.

                            Carol profoundly and in the most esoteric sense brought a research trail into the context of the discussion that should easily have raised eyebrows, raised questions, but alas, it is too true Anthros are mostly struggling with the basics.  That is why in a sense, we know that if we present even the basics of what same gender issues and problems and problems of the anima and animus are, even then, we leave out most students and newbies who can't follow even the very basics of intimate common depth psychology.

                            Carol brings up an even more astonishing trail of interest.

                            "Thus the forces radiating from the etheric body of Christian Rosenkreutz continued to be active in the nineteenth century too. And a renewal of theosophical life could come about because by 1899 the little Kali Yuga had run its course. That is why the approach to the spiritual world is easier now and spiritual influence is possible to a far greater degree. The etheric body of Christian Rosenkreutz has become very strong, and, through devotion to this, man will be able to acquire the new clairvoyance, and lofty spiritual forces will come into being. This will only be possible, however, for those people who follow the training of Christian Rosenkreutz correctly.

                            Until now an esoteric rosicrucian preparation was essential,

                            but the twentieth century has the mission of enabling this etheric

                            body to become so powerful that it can also work exoterically.

                            Those affected by it will be granted the experience of the event

                            that Paul experienced on the road to Damascus.

                            Until now this etheric body has only worked into the school of the rosicrucians; in the

                            twentieth century more and more people will be able to experience

                            the effect of it, and through this they will come to experience the

                            appearance of Christ in the etheric body. It is the work of the

                            rosicrucians that makes possible the etheric vision of Christ.

                            The number of people who will become capable of seeing it will grow and grow. We must attribute this re-appearance to the important work of the twelve and the thirteenth in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

                            If you can become an instrument of Christian Rosenkreutz, then you can be assured that the smallest detail of your soul activity will be there for eternity."

                            rudolf steiner archives: Esoteric Christianity and the Mission of Christian Rosenkreutz ROSICRUCIAN CHRISTIANITY Lecture 1 Neuchatel, 27th September 1911

                            Bradford comments;

                            Was Dr. Steiner merely placating, making conciliation, propitiating and appeasing and doing some PR for the future of Anthro Science?  Or what do we know of that has been offered from the region of Christian Rosenkreuz research?  We know that in the 13th century, a certain awaited soul meets with the vast 12, 12 mortal representative initiate streams, embodied in Twelve Individuals gathered together and waiting to infuse this soul, who had participated in the Golgotha events,  with a whole new etheric and earth system that would be the model for building the entire new etheric/spirit man prototype out of the model provided by the Christ Being.  How are we going to approach such Sun-Light mystery?  The Twleve Streams have to be digested fully by a human being.  Not just a part of a stream, not just two streams, but the full Twelve streams have to be the forces, streaming out of fully transformed humans, these twelve streams culminate the fullness of the Human Wisdom of Humanity and stream, from each of the twelve rays, each of the individualized one sided standpoints, ray in their full wisdom, just as heat, sunlight and gold transform a chrysalis into a butterfly, so a human being is called upon to digest fully the whole dose of the full twelve streams that embody all of human wisdom.

                            Steiner' provides the fact that this human being was fed the entire Twelve Streams, mainlined down, streamed into him, until he became sickly and nearly Transparent.  In other words the universal human, the full potency of the twelve streams, was first merged with a human vessel in the Jesus destiny but it also had to be fully digested and when we say digested we find that the transparent casing of the Chrysalis of the butterfly reveals that there was a powerful, powerful effect on the young man who digested all the forces of the twelve streams into his being.  However the potent prototype where a human cosmos of Man or Humanity could arise from the seed planted on Golgotha, required that a human being arise, in an upward force, from humanity themselves, and carry, not merely a single stream, or one of the four streams, but manifest the full twelve streams and digest them into what is the fully unified Human.  A twelve in One or Mr. Thirteen Himself. 

                             

                            The physical human form already is a model of the Zodiac in an artistic sphere where Michael and Rosicrucianism have united to show from foot to head a blueprint of the Zodiac in the skeleton of Man.  Our human Word, our throats already contain a micro immensity of the full Twelve Streams of the Word. But what then of the Soul and Spiritual streams of acute and specific wisdom pouring into the molting and transforming form of Christian Rosenkreuz? And something utterly new grew from the Earth - a strange mysterious model of higher humanity who contains all twelve streams and is operative and cognizant, deepened and alive in all those streams. Can switech from any language, any writing, dual brain script, move in any dimension and hold for humanity the full twelve Initiation streams until humanity is ready to become the fullness of the Twelve in One.  In other words instead of seven different rainbow races.... different etheric streams and different qualities of etheric bodies, a universal spirit, etheric form, guided to become an Elohim from the very bosom of the twelvfold streams of Man!  Man becomes a transparent Chrysalis and molts into an entirely new human prototype.

                            How do we approach such insights?  I mean we can't even, not even digest, can't hardly digest the very complexity of the two Jesus streams and the Christ Event and it's shattering meaning. But further, the results of that event have continued on underground and in intense preparation so that humanity can do exactly what was described in the John in Relation to the Other Gospels, that Earth and humanity become a new cosmos, we become the generators of a whole new cosmos of Man based on the Elohim model brought to Earth and planted in the depths of the Earth for Man to use.  We can't even fathom a twelfth or a twelfth of a twelfth of this overwhelming mystery, yet Carol brings up through Steiner that there is a mighty and active support system, mighty etheric generator working as well through humanity in the Etheric body of Christian Rosenkreuz.

                            The Christ Being of the higher Elohim - The New Morphology of 12  -  Rising Humans

                            However the origin and author of this morphology of the soul and spirit, a morphology of the soul and spirit, earth's growing the educational and universal laws of the body - soul and spirit, to morph into the ONE who streams forth the fullness of the TWELVE.  Not merely one fragment of the etheric type from one aspect of the planetary rainbow races gifts but the fullness of the Twelve in One.  All this makes one wonder what is going on with Christian Rosenkreuz?

                              

                            Now this fully digested twelvefoldness of the fully human force of the threefold Sun had to awaken forth out of the initiate schooling of humanity and begin to rise up and carry the Cosmos of Humanity forward and from this, the advancement of one very unusual being called Christian Rosenkreuz,  who begins to arise and guide humanity to ever higher devachan streams.  Archangel to Archai and upwards to Elohim to the point where Christian Rosenkreuz could assign Buddha and his freind St. Francis to the transformation of the Mars Devachan.  Something comes out of the Rose, born of the Myrrh and the death of Adonis as well as the birth of Adonis -  Meaning that the birth from death, or the birth of Adonis from the Myrrh tree and the death of Adonis as the Rose or blood drops, ask us to view autumn and the waning of the Light, as the point where the inner rising of the light comes streaming forth into human etheric bodies via Iron, spiritualized iron forces.

                            "The generally accepted version is that Aphrodite compelled Myrrha (or Smyrna) to commit incest with Theias, her father, the king of Assyria. Her nurse helped her with this trickery to become pregnant, and when Theias discovered this he chased her with a knife. To avoid his wrath the gods turned her into a myrrh tree. The tree later burst open, allowing Adonis to emerge. "

                            "Myrrh is a pleasant-smelling resinous substance from several types of trees in Arabia and North Africa. "

                            The myrrh tree is native to lands bordering the Red Sea (Arabia, Ethiopia and Somaliland). It is a low, spreading tree with pale gray bark which exudes drops of a reddish-brown juice. This liquid slowly hardens into gum-resin lumps, or "tear-drops," some as large as eggs. They are easily powdered, fragrant to the nose, somewhat astringent and bitter to the tongue.  The lumps were prized by the ancients and made into medicinals, perfume, oils, and aphrodisiacal incense burned in the temples.  Among the Hebrews, the tabernacle, sacred ark, and altar vessels were annointed with oil of myrrh.  For the first six months of the purification-year undergone by a Hebrew woman after childbearing, she too, like the sacred altar and vessels, was washed and annointed with oil of myrrh.

                            Six thousand years ago, the Egyptians discovered myrrh's use in rites of death, where it was essential to the art of embalming.  Mummifying the corpse was believed to preserve the body for an afterlife spent in joyful, well-watered gardens.  The word, "myrrh," comes from the Arabic mur, "bitter," for, influenced by ancient Egypt,  myrrh eventually became associated with bitterness and death (the myth of Myrrha, Adonis, and Aphrodite clearly reflects this paradox).

                            The three gifts that the Wise Men brought to the infant Jesus. Frankincense and myrrh are aromatic substances. Frankincense is commonly burned as incense, and myrrh is used in burial of the dead.

                            Mary Magdalene, and the other women who were present at the burial of our Saviour on Friday evening, returned from Golgotha to the city and prepared fragrant spices and myrrh, so that they might anoint the body of Jesus.

                            when Jesus was born, wise men from the east brought him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The gold reflected Jesus's royalty--He is King of the Jews. The frankincense reflected his divinity--He is God in the flesh. The myrrh symbolized his humanity--Myrrh was used in burial preparations for those who passed away. The myrrh given to Jesus pointed to His eventual crucifixion where He conquered sin and death.


                            Image of Adonis (12kb)

                            Adonis is a complex figure, for the outlines of his tale were fully as a part of the sub-Olympian Greek mythology by Greek and Roman authors, and yet he also retains many deep associations with his Semitic origins. The name "Adonis" is a variation of the Semitic word "Adonai", which means "lord"....

                            At the beginning of his appearance in Greek myth, there is some confusion as to his parentage and his birth. Hesiod considers this Greek hero to be the son of Phoenix and Aephesiboea, while Apollodorus calls him the son of Cinyras and Metharme. The generally accepted version is that Aphrodite compelled Myrrha (or Smyrna) to commit incest with Theias, her father, the king of Assyria. Her nurse helped her with this trickery to become pregnant, and when Theias discovered this he chased her with a knife. To avoid his wrath the gods turned her into a myrrh tree. The tree later burst open, allowing Adonis to emerge. Another version says that after she slept with her father she hid in a forest where Aphrodite changed her into a tree. Theias struck the tree with an arrow, causing the tree to open and Adonis to be born. Yet another version says a wild boar open the tree with its tusks and freed the child; this is considered to be a foreshadowing of his death.

                            Once the child was born Aphrodite was so moved by his beauty that she sheltered him and entrusted him to Persephone. She was also taken by his beauty and refused to give him back.

                            The dispute between the two goddesses, in one version, was settled by Zeus; in others it was settled by Calliope on Zeus' behalf. The decision was that Adonis was to spend one-third of every year with each goddess and the last third wherever he chose. He always chose to spend two-thirds of the year with Aphrodite.

                            This went on till his death, where he was fatally wounded by a wild boar, said to be caused by Artemis. In some versions his death was caused not by Artemis, but by Aphrodite's lover, Ares, who was jealous of Adonis. Apollo is also said to be responsible because his son, Erymanthus, had seen Aphrodite naked and she blinded him for it. The story of Adonis provides a basis for the origin of myrrh and the origin of the rose, which grew from each drop of blood that fell.

                            The story of Adonis, despite its variants, is certainly another example of the dying vegetation god (see: Tammuz). The close association with Aphrodite or Persephone also brings his myth into line with the many other mated couples, where the male partener dies and is reborn, that is spread across North Africa and the Near East.

                          • holderlin66
                            bradford brought; Unfair and unscientific and unethical are the horrific torture techniques that humans devise to crush the physical form of Man. Death
                            Message 13 of 14 , Oct 17, 2007

                              bradford brought;

                              "Unfair and unscientific and unethical are the horrific torture techniques that humans devise to crush the physical form of Man. 

                               

                              "Death sentences today are mostly cyanide, hanging, torture, electric chair, Oh and countless, countless methods that are studied as a science today, a science of torture so brutal, so alarming and this torture is sanctioned by the United States of Ahriman and poses the darkest, darkest winter of the human soul,  as  matter of fact dehumanization, whose intent is to bury and horrify the actual holy insights humanity might gain from the Etheric.  To Horrify or sexify, or pornofy, erotisize, demean, deny and dumb down the actual reality behind the human form and how the human form is rooted in the divine.  From the new Etheric Worlds  we draw our Michael Courage."

                              http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/20071015_outsourcing_torture/

                              "Mubarak, who has ruled Egypt for 26 years and is grooming his son, Gamal, to succeed him, can torture and "disappear" dissidents—such as the Egyptian journalist Reda Hilal, who vanished four years ago—without American censure because he does the dirty work for us on those we "disappear." The extraordinary-rendition program, which sees the United States kidnap and detain terrorist suspects in secret prisons around the world, fits neatly with the Egyptian regime's contempt for due process.  Those rounded up by American or Egyptian security agents are never granted legal rights.  The abductors are often hooded or masked.  If the captors are American the suspects are spirited onto a Gulfstream V jet registered to a series of dummy American corporations, such as Bayard Foreign Marketing of Portland, Ore., and whisked to Egypt or perhaps Morocco or Jordan.  When these suspects arrive in Cairo they vanish into black holes as swiftly as dissident Egyptians.  It is the same dirty and seamless process. 

                              We have nothing to say to Mubarak.  He is us.  The general intelligence directorate in Lazoughli and in Mulhaq al-Mazra prison in Cairo allegedly holds many of our own detained and "disappeared." The more savage the torture techniques of the Mubarak regime the faster the prisoners we smuggle into Egypt from Afghanistan and Iraq are broken down.  The screams of Egyptians, Iraqis, Pakistanis and Afghans mingle in these prison cells to condemn us all.

                              We know little about what goes on in the black holes the CIA has set up in Egypt.  But snapshots leak out.  Ibn-al Shaykh al-Libi, who was captured by U.S. forces in late 2001, was an al-Qaida camp commander.  He was taken to a prison in Cairo where he was repeatedly tortured by Egyptian officials.  The Egyptian interrogators told the CIA that he had confirmed a relationship between Saddam Hussein and al-Qaida.  The tidbit, used by then U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell in his United Nations speech, turned out to be false.  Victims usually will say anything to make severe torture stop.  Al-Libi was eventually returned to Afghanistan, although he has again disappeared. 


                              Mamduh Habib, an Egyptian-born citizen of Australia, was apprehended in October 2001 in Pakistan, where, his family says, he was touring religious schools.  A Pentagon spokesman claimed that Habib spent most of his time in Afghanistan and was "either supporting hostile forces or on the battlefield fighting illegally against the U.S."

                              Habib was released a few days after The Washington Post published an article on his case.  He said he was first interrogated and brutalized for three weeks in Islamabad.  His interrogators spoke English with American accents.  He was then bustled into a jumpsuit, his eyes were covered with opaque goggles and he was flown on a small jet to Egypt. There he was held and interrogated for six months, according to Joseph Margulies, a lawyer affiliated with the MacArthur Justice Center at the University of Chicago Law School, which is representing Habib,.

                              Habib claims he was beaten frequently with blunt instruments, including an object that he likened to an "electric prod." He was told that if he did not confess to belonging to al-Qaida he would be anally raped by specially trained dogs.  Habib said he was returned to U.S. custody after his stint in an Egyptian prison and flown to Bagram air base, in Afghanistan, and then to Guantanamo Bay, where he was kept until his release.

                              Al-Libi and Habib are but two cases.  There are hundreds, perhaps thousands more.  These accounts of American-sponsored torture in Egyptian prisons are not new.  They hardly make news.  But the close cooperation between Egyptian and American security officials represents a frightening melding of despotisms, an international cabal of state-sponsored brutality and abuse.  It does away with the concept of law and human rights.  It mocks international protocols and treaties.  It permits the despotic states we support, such as Egypt, to veer away from democratic structures and propagate, with our assistance, a more ruthless tyranny and brutality.  It enrages and finally empowers those who oppose us to engage in the same behavior.  It is dividing the world into competing spheres of intolerance.  In this new world order there is nothing left to appeal to other than the mercy of someone standing over you with an electric prod. 

                              Mubarak has in the past few weeks decided to shut down the last remnants of opposition.  He has sent in riot police to arrest dozens of striking labor leaders, rounded up more than a thousand members of the Muslim Brotherhood, the largest opposition group, and tossed seven journalists into prison.  The charges against the journalists range from misquoting Egypt's justice minister to spreading rumors about the health of Mubarak to defaming his designated heir, Gamal.  The detainees, as usual, complain of torture and beatings.  And persistent rumors of death squads, bolstered by the "disappearance" of some of the regime's most outspoken critics, have turned Egypt into a state that has mastered the art of internal and external extraordinary rendition.

                              The few lonely Egyptian voices and institutions that dared to speak out against the mounting repression have been silenced, including the Association for Human Rights and Legal Aid, which was shut down by the government last month.  The government also recently arrested two political activists—Mohammed al-Dereini and Ahmed Mohammed Sobh, both members of Egypt's tiny Shiite minority—after the men publicized testimonies from prisoners detailing torture in the Egyptian prison system.  Egypt's most prominent dissident, the sociologist Saad Edin Ibrahim, is in exile, too frightened to go home and repeat his own brutal experience in an Egyptian prison.

                              The Egyptian Organization for Human Rights has confirmed more than 500 cases of police abuse since 1993, including 167 deaths—three of which took place this year—that the group "strongly suspects were the result of torture and mistreatment." There are now 80,000 political prisoners held in Egyptian prisons.  The annual budget for internal security was $1.5 billion in 2006, more than the entire national budget for health care, and the security police forces comprise 1.4 million members, nearly four times the number of the Egyptian army.

                              The United States has subsidized Egypt's armed forces with over $38 billion in aid.  Egypt receives about $2 billion annually—$1.3 billion in foreign military financing and about $815 million in economic and support fund assistance—making it the second largest regular recipient of conventional U.S. military and economic aid, after Israel.

                              We have nothing left to say to the Mubarak regime.  The torture practiced in Egypt is the torture we employ for our own ends.  The cries that rise up from these fetid cells in Egypt condemn not only the Mubarak dictatorship but the moral rot that has beset the American state. "

                              Bradford concludes;

                              Time marches on.  Hot spots where the true depth and richness of Man was explored, Egypt, Palastine, Gilgamesh and Iraq, Zarathustra and Iran and of course the immense Babylonian Star Wisdom that culminated in the Angel Community and the Angelic Folk leader, John the Baptist, preparing the way, paving the way for the secret incarnation of the two Jesus children and the penetration of the super Elohim Christ Being.  Now these very same locations are aggressively torn asunder, ripped to shreds!  Ripped to Shreds in order to destroy any etheric residue or remnant of the UPSOURCING of MAN!  You think Ahriman has a political and BEINGHOOD agenda that opposes the Christ?  You think TIME - well if you were able as Anthros to think in terms of TIME and HISTORY as no object when dealing with the forces of Archai to Archai opposition you could see that TIME is the canvas.  Erasing and scattering any etheric remnants of the mighty events of Golgotha or the Egyptian Age which is so tied to America or Gilgamesh and Zarathustra!

                              The Egyptian third epoch is twisted in knots around the roots of the current western Fifth Epoch. The American forces are entwined and knotted, like the Ahrimanic portion of the bottom half of the statue of the Representative of Man that Steiner carved.  The ancient Ahrimanic roots coil up and twist into the economic and politcal knots of the current world. Gnarled by human torture and pain, and Ahriman's BEINGHOOD that has the intention to either crush and obliterate our humanity or have our humanity be so kindled that full Michael Courage rises up and blares, trumpets and flattens the Ahrimanic under our feet as a mockery and retarded illusion of the true human being.

                              For in torture as in the Templars, the beasts claw at the threshold of the spiritual world that leaks, speaks and seeps from humanity as they face death, near death and brink of human death experiences, so that those forces that have been thrust down, out of the kingdom of the Spiritual World into human heads, claw at the human centers of pain and shatter the physical frame, just to feebly hear the music that only humanity can hear.  For when we talke about Beings thrust into human heads and down into the kingdom of human intellects, we see the exile and craving of humanity, under any pretext, any pretext, to crush and splinter the human form and human psyche so that humans at the threshold break free, where these thrust out beings crave for nourishment that only the Divine Order of the universe satisfies.

                            • Stephen Hale
                              ... wrote: The Egyptian third epoch is twisted in knots around the roots of the current western Fifth Epoch. The American forces are entwined and knotted,
                              Message 14 of 14 , Oct 17, 2007
                                --- In anthroposophy@yahoogroups.com, "holderlin66" <holderlin66@...>
                                wrote:

                                "The Egyptian third epoch is twisted in knots around the roots of the
                                current western Fifth Epoch. The American forces are entwined and
                                knotted, like the Ahrimanic portion of the bottom half of the statue of
                                the Representative of Man that Steiner carved. The ancient Ahrimanic
                                roots coil up and twist into the economic and politcal knots of the
                                current world. Gnarled by human torture and pain, and Ahriman's
                                BEINGHOOD that has the intention to either crush and obliterate our
                                humanity or have our humanity be so kindled that full Michael Courage
                                rises up and blares, trumpets and flattens the Ahrimanic under our feet
                                as a mockery and retarded illusion of the true human being."

                                I feel that it is important to understand that there is both a
                                Representative of Man, carefully thought out by Rudolf Steiner, and
                                carved with the help of Edith Maryon, and a Representative of Anti-Man,
                                which can be carved in the mind as a very horrific vision of what it
                                means to now have the Asuras alive in the human ego consciousness.

                                It is quite a paradox indeed that human ego consciousness, born through
                                Christ, and the sacrifice on Golgotha, also means the advent of Asuras
                                in this relatively new form of individual consciousness soul. Since
                                the last third of the 19th century, a century in which spiritless
                                materialism first arose in human culture, it also began that human
                                beings were born in order to experience their own ego consciousness for
                                the very first time. And this occurrence, beginning back then, and
                                thus predicting all human incarnations throughout the entire length of
                                the 20th century, also gave rise to the Asuras in human consciousness.
                                The double-edged sword seen coming out of the mouth of the Angel
                                Messenger in the Book of Revelation, now issues our of our own mouth.

                                So, it is possible to envision two forms of Steiner's 'Representative
                                of Man' sculpture, which is given a very admirable description in the
                                single lecture, "Christ in Relation to Lucifer and Ahriman", from May
                                18, 1915 (and available on the RS E-Library). The one in which Christ
                                is depicted standing between Lucifer and Ahriman, wants to carefully
                                show that Lucifer and Ahriman are lovingly brought down. And the
                                reason is because they have brought mankind to freedom in the earthly
                                world. Thus, they are the complementary agents of the Christ in this
                                essential preparation for individual ego consciousness. Mankind would
                                not be free today if Lucifer and Ahriman had not been able to find a
                                way to wrest a certain control from the Spirits of Form (Exusiai), and
                                thus enter into the human astral body, and etheric body, which were
                                originally to be the domain of the lofty Exusiai.

                                But just as the original and visible 'Representative of Man' wants to
                                carefully depict this integrally important and freedom-allowing
                                relationship between Lucifer and Ahriman and Christ, so also can it be
                                depicted that when the human ego first becomes conscious, and this is
                                owed entirely to Christ entering earth evolution for this purpose, that
                                the Asuras begins working in this now conscious ego. And Asuras has
                                the power, being at the lowest and most destructive level of the sub-
                                earthly regions, to make Lucifer and Ahriman work for him in ways that
                                are inimical, or contradictory to their original complementary roles
                                under the guidance of Christ.

                                Thus, it is possible to envision a 'Representative of Anti-Man' wherein
                                the evil Asuras stands between Lucifer and Ahriman, who are now being
                                uplifted in a grotesque form that is the exact opposite of the former
                                sculpture. And all being guided by the evil Asuras, who stands below
                                Lucifer and Ahriman in the sub-earthly regions where the
                                differentiated, decimated, and ultimately destructive Third Force light
                                dwells. It is this light that opposes Christ, and opposes mankind
                                through its power to uplift Ahriman and Lucifer to work against the
                                very freedom that represents their true heritage according to Christ.

                                And it is in this endeavor to use Lucifer and Ahriman in this way; to
                                effect the enslavement of mankind rather than the freedom that has
                                already been earned through the Christ Event, that Asuras becomes
                                Soradt, the Sun-Demon. Soradt's third incarnation (1998) has been able
                                to effectuate this very unholy alliance in ways that are truly
                                disturbing today. But this was already at work in the 1940's, and now
                                it is very possible that we are facing another Hundred Year war that
                                was so emblematic of Soradt's second incarnation in 1332.

                                Steve
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