A Carpe Diem Snapshot:
This morning, while looking for a picture book to read to Cordelia, my eye fell upon one of my favorites- The House. It seemed like the perfect pick as we spent the day taking care of our own house, to prepare it for the harsh winter ahead. Unfortunately, the girls didn't love the book as much I do, but I think the unspoken themes of the passage of time and the effects of historical events on both buildings and people resonate more with the grown-up readers anyway. When I first discovered this book many years ago in Rome, in the Italian edition, it made me think immediately of the classic children's book The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton. This book seems to cast a spell on readers of all ages with its cozy, through-the-seasons and years illustrations of a humble house's history from agricultural society to industrialization. Whenever this book happens to come up in conversation with others, I recognize the same expression of sober appreciation caused by its recollection. Every house we've lived in thus far has a history that came with it. And with every change we make, we add to its chapters. It's humbling to realize that each of these houses will presumably outlive us, and our own stories may be unknown or forgotten by their new owners, though the houses will still retain them.
Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities! All things are vanity! What profit has man from all the labor which he toils at under the sun? One generation passes and another comes, but the world forever stays. The sun rises and the sun goes down; then it presses on to the place where it rises. Blowing now toward the south, then toward the north, the wind turns again and again, resuming its rounds. All rivers go to the sea, yet never does the sea become full. To the place where they go, the rivers keep on going. All speech is labored; there is nothing one can say. The eye is not satisfied with seeing nor is the ear satisfied with hearing.
What has been, that will be; what has been done, that will be done. Nothing is new under the sun. Even the thing of which we say, “See, this is new!” has already existed in the ages that preceded us. There is no remembrance of the men of old; nor of those to come will there be any remembrance among those who come after them. --ECCL 1:2-11
Bishop Barron's Gospel reflections today.
Sanctoral: Today is the Optional Memorial of Saints Cosmas and Damian (d. 303). According to tradition, Saints Cosmas and Damian suffered martyrdom in Syria during the Roman persecution of Diocletian. Not much is known about them, but tradition holds they were twin brothers and medical doctors, never charging a fee for their medical services. Their names are in the Roman Canon of the Mass and they are honored in both the Eastern and Western Church and highly celebrated in Italian communities.
Human: It's the birthday of poet T(homas) S(tearns) Eliot, born into a prominent Unitarian family in St. Louis (1888). His most famous poem is The Waste Land (1922), a dark and complex poem about the search for redemption in a post-World War I world. From a young age, Eliot wrote about moral decay and aging and the hopelessness of life. When he was 16, he wrote, "For time is time, and runs away."
"The Genius of T.S. Eliot" by Russell Kirk
Natural: Johnny Appleseed Day
John Chapman ( Johnny Appleseed) was born in Massachusetts on September 26, 1774. He was a legendary American pioneer and folk hero who planted apple trees across the American Frontier. Chapman earned his nickname because he planted small orchards and individual apple trees during his travels as he walked across 100,000 square miles of Midwestern wilderness and prairie. He was a genuine and dedicated professional nurseryman known for his generous nature, his love of the wilderness, his devotion to the Bible, his knowledge of medicinal herbs, his harmony with the Indians, and his eccentric nature, too. His efforts resulted in settlers’ planting their own orchards.
John Chapman died in 1845 near his nursery in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Every September, when apples are ripe, Fort Wayne hosts an annual festival to commemorate the life of Johnny Appleseed.
Next time you bite into an apple, think of Johnny Appleseed. Learn more about Johnny Appleseed and Johnny Appleseed Day!
Italian: Mogio (despondent / dispirited / dejected)
Quote: “To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man’s life.”
― T.S. Eliot, The Use of Poetry and the Use of Criticism
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