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Post-300: Luther on the Book of Revelation

4/29/2015

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The two acquaintances I mentioned in #298 ("The Beginning is Near") belong to a certain Korean church or (church-like entity) with very unorthodox teachings "based on" wild interpretations of the Book of Revelation. They say Revelation specifically prophesies the coming of their own leader (a Korean man born in the 1930s), who is a kind of Christ-like figure in their belief.

I don't much trust people who talk too much about the Book of Revelation. As I see it, that book and its
dream-like apocalyptic imagery is (at best) fuel for wild yet idle speculation under the cover of allegedly divine revelation.

I've heard that Luther had similar things to say on it. Here is Luther's highly critical preface to Revelation:

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About this Book of the Revelation of John, I leave everyone free to hold his own opinions. I would not have anyone bound to my opinion or judgment. I say what I feel. I miss more than one thing in this book, and it makes me consider it to be neither apostolic nor prophetic.

First and foremost, the apostles do not deal with visions, but prophesy in clear and plain words, as do Peter and Paul, and Christ in the gospel. For it befits the apostolic office to speak clearly of Christ and his deeds, without images and visions. Moreover there is no prophet in the Old Testament, to say nothing of the New, who deals so exclusively with visions and images. For myself, I think it approximates the Fourth Book of Esdras; I can in no way detect that the Holy Spirit produced it.

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Post-299: Baltimore Race Riots

4/28/2015

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"Ideas have consequences," someone once famously said.

And so it happened that race riots have struck, again, in 2015, in Baltimore:
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I try to imagine what a Martin observer, looking on, would think.
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Post-298: The Beginning is Near

4/25/2015

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This is a surprising and pleasing image to me. Maybe it's best to view it from the bottom to top, but viewing it all at once is nearly as good.
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Post-297: Pointless War Story, Tokyo Bay 1945

4/16/2015

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I arrived by boat in Japan and left by plane. About seventy years earlier, some unknown American had a brief experience in Japan the precise reverse of mine in the sense that he "arrived by plane and left by boat," and in a more dramatic fashion. His story is told through the eyes of a Japanese watching:
After discussing the war generally, [the Japanese professor in his 60s] began, with seeming reluctance, to speak of his own war experience as a university draftee who had used all his family's influence to avoid call-up until he was finally tapped for coastal-defense duty late in the war. One day in July 1945, he went on, the intensity of his voice increasing with each sentence, he found himself in charge of an emplacement of ancient coastal guns just as an American flyer [pilot] parachuted into Tokyo Bay. As the downed American swam towards his position, the youthful candidate-officer found his mind racing. What should he do? Kill him, or take him prisoner? Suddenly, he was spared the choice, for right there in the middle of the bay, a U.S. submarine surfaced, scooped up the pilot, and submerged again, taking him to safety. At that moment in his story, the scholar broke off almost breathlessly, and said, "You see, that's the only kind of thing you'll hear. Pointless stories. It's too late to talk about crucial issues. All the people in decision-making posts are long dead."
Quite dramatic for a pointless story.

It comes from a book I'd bought cheaply in Tokyo (200 Yen or $1.65 at today's exchange rate). It's called Japan At War: An Oral History" published in 1992,
an original English publication by an American, Dr. Theodore Cook. The interviews were conducted in 1988-1991 in Japan. He says he "selected people from [the ranks of] general to private, prison-camp guard to journalist, dancer to diplomat, idealistic builder of 'Greater East Asia' to 'thought criminal,' who talk revealingly of their wars".

The pointless story has two incredible points to it, as I see it. One, he considered killing a potential prisoner-of-war upon capture. Two, the pilot's manner of rescue, as described, seems so surreal that if I saw it in a James Bond movie I'd think to myself, "Gee, they're really pushing it now". The author makes some more comments about why this little anecdote is not so pointless. A photograph of the page is here.
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Post-296: It Came Out of the Sky

4/10/2015

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Towards the end of 1969, a few months after the first human moon landing, an album was released in the USA called "Willy and the Poor Boys" which featured the now iconic song "Fortunate Son". Another song on the album was "It Came Out of the Sky".

Below is that song, its lyrics, and some comments on it that occur to me. (As of now, for copyright reasons Youtube blocks the song on mobile devices but it can be heard on desktops.)
I see the song as saying this: People tend to react to new, unknown phenomena or developments based narrowly on the way they already see the world, the way they've always done things. Few, if any, can really break free of this mental constraint. (I think this makes the song a musical version of Plato's "Allegory of the Cave.")
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Post-295: Believing in Islam

4/6/2015

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I heard somebody from the UK make this comment a while ago:

"I've met people who don't even believe in God, but they believe in Islam."

He was talking about Muslims living in the UK, I think. What this means is open to interpretation.
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Post-294: Finding a John Donne Poem

4/2/2015

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I turned a piece of paper over and found this:
Go and Catch a Falling Star
By John Donne

Go and catch a falling star,
    Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
    Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
            And find
            What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
I don't seek out poetry, but if it seeks me out, I'll give it a try. But -- Nope. Couldn't understand it. Can you?

I was talking with a nice Korean young man (born 1988) who is an English Literature major at a university in Seoul. We were scribbling on the back side of the paper; on the front was this poem.

I read it again and a third time. Slowly an idea took shape in my mind: Adventure. Could it be? -- a poem praising the adventurous spirit, both physical and mental, eternal curiosity, relentless seeking after new knowledge; maybe on the fantastical side, but approving. Life is the eternal pursuit of knowledge and experience, and also full of fool's errands, and maybe, ultimately, every single thing is a fool's errand, but that's okay. Something like this took shape in my mind. Poetry is hard. I said simply in English, "I think this poem means 'Adventure is good.'" He flatly replied: "No." A
little condescendingly, he explained the real meaning:
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