Well, when one is drunk, one finds herself a prophet. I do believe in all those things I listed in my last letter, although my endorsement of them are a bit more pronounced (and generic) upon glass numero tres of red wine.
Anyway, this weekend I went with my mother to The Library of Congress. The "great hall" is stunning in its architecture and painted walls, which are embossed with many quotes, among them: "The light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not." It struck me to silence.
Can't that quote be applied to the meaning of ignorance?:
ig·no·rance (ĭg'nər-əns) : n. The condition of being uneducated, unaware, or uninformed.
Isn't the darkness ignorance? And in this cloak of darkness there is an inability, or a lack of participation in the quest, to understand "truth"? Here, blindness, even in the brightest of places.
Later, dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, I "googled" the phrase. I wasn't surprised to learn it's from the bible.
John 1:
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning."Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
"There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world."
Lord! Look at that multifaceted narrative. It's really quite brilliant. Here "word" becomes "Word", which changes the meaning, or at least the intention of the word, entirely. And John is both an observer and a channel of knowledge and creation. That excerpt is a fold within itself.
Right now, I'm listening to Dire Straits "Romeo and Juliet". I'm fascinated by the impetus provided by literary texts. Inspiration, inspiration, you sneaky woman. We all steal stories, I suppose.
Lately I've been unable to give voice to my thoughts, and even now I find this letter to be inadequate. I've become quieter and more contemplative, and this is a good thing. Kenneth Bruffee once said (paraphrase here): "Writing is conversation internalized re-externalized onto paper." I believe that. Another bullet to the list.
yours,
l.c.
3 comments:
John 1 always reminds me of Plato's allegory of the cave: a populace arrogant enough to assert "true" light in a world of darkness, yet so anti-intellectual that if you bring outside light (knowledge) to them, they will ignore you, misunderstand you, reject you, hate you, and attack you.
Also notable is the fact that the light is the light OF men, not FOR men or TO men. Although it does seem that it's an outside source of enlightenment for humanity, it's a distinction that's present in the Greek.
For some reason, "light of men" makes me think of Tolkien.
The light "of" men is interesting in itself as it's something that's both inherent and being presented. I mean, it's inherent in each human, but it's also ALL men, and therefore a bestowment upon humanity as it's the foundation of creation. Right? So while yes, it's this outside source of enlightment/truth, it's also the source of human bodies whom are expected to value this enlightenment and/or believe it contained within their being.
What do you mean about the disctinction present in Greek texts?
I meant that "light of men" isn't just a poetic translation; "of," as opposed to "to" or "for," is there in the original Greek.
It seems contradictory to me--how can the light come into the world if it's something inherent to humankind? This also leaves me uncertain as to what the "darkness" is, exactly. Sin? Unbelievers? It's awfully personified.
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