Shortage of time enough and to spare

In an evolutionary ridiculously short, but highly dynamic, time span of not even ten generations, we have been able to almost duplicate our life span and have pushed our working time down by much more than a quarter.

In spite of that, the amount of time-pressed contemporaries is ever growing. Maybe this is due to the fact that in the service of time efficiency we have split our time into multiple fragments in every direction, with the highest expectations for each, into time for the family, time for friends, for education, for health, culture, sports and much more. From a clearly much too busy person I heard that his coach had given him an ingenious tip and he is doing much better, now that he has been “sticking to it really consistently: every seventh day I take a break!” ses

Somewhere …

a Church assembly is in session. It opens, not with a party manifesto, but appropriately, with a mass. Surprising, but it is still like this:

There are people who put their hope in the Church. She has always been a free initiative, right from the beginning. And for the people on the inside to let themselves be infected by this hope – people also come together on the outside and demand: New Light in the Church. And to emphasize the demand on those on the inside, they turn on their flashlights. In any case, this discrepancy between hope and actual implementation can only be bridged by us. After all, it is said: You are the light of the world”. At least, that is what is written in the bible. pez

So where is …

the usually nicely fashioned box, the tabernacle, with the red light that always makes the churches seem a little alive? This I ask myself as I walk into a church in Southern Bavaria.

In a displayed description I read curiously: “Whoever enters this church for the first time and looks for the tabernacle might need some time before they discover it. And sometimes they might need people to point it out to them: the tabernacle is held by a dove hanging above the altar.” “This search”, so it continues, “might also be a symbol: Where is ‘the innermost part’ within ourselves, where we find strength and support? This is not easy to find either. And for this, too, we need time and sometimes people, who support us in the search.”

The way I look for the box in the church, so I should search for “strength and support” deep within myself. I ask my inner self: How do we find comparisons that get to the heart of the matter, a language that conveys the rationality of the Jewish-Christian faith? pez

Serotonin

You can furnish your upper story however you like. That is even easier today than it used to be. You can build dream worlds up there, or nightmare worlds, according to personal preference.

If you want to be big and stand above everything, then you will stand on the tops of mountains and look down at everything. If you want to be small and lost, the darkest, bottomless depths will open up around you. If you call out into the future or the past, an echo will call back that is either hopeful or desperate, just as you like. If you want to put all blame on everyone else, then all evidence will support this. If you want to put all blame on yourself, it won’t be any different. You can dream what you like, as long as you like. That is quite pleasant, as a whole.

Then Michel Houellebecq publishes a new book. This time it is called “Serotonin”. And suddenly an icy wind blows. Houellebecq has no interest in dream worlds in upper stories. He declutters the upper story, throws out the dream worlds. The upper story is very bleak afterwards. And when you think that it’s over, Houellebecq shows you the door and throws you out of your own upper story. Then you come down somewhere. It’s a very hard impact. It could be that this is reality, your point of impact. It could be that for Houellebecq it’s just about what he observes about himself and everybody else day after day: A miserable, devastating, seemingly forlorn reality. Then the desire for your own upper story grows great. Climbing back up there to your own dream worlds, that would seem natural. saw

New Year’s Wish

If people were animals, everything would be better and easier.

It would be better because animals do not wage wars. Because animals do no wrong. Because animals especially do not harm the environment – except maybe the bark beetle, but I guess he’s just a bad apple. Everything would be easier because the life of an animal is so ideal, so simple and clear. An animal does not have to plan in advance. It does not have to be ashamed of its desires. Neither does it ask about the sense and nonsense of the world and about what actually holds the world together at its core. Essentially, everything indicates that humans should stop being humans and, if possible, start being animals. It need not bother us Europeans that some people might have opposing views to this. Judaism, for example, hardly exists in Europe anymore. So it is easy to ignore its views. Anyway, an engagement with such a worldview would present an indissoluble contradiction to the targeted harmonious, clear, simple, perfectly instinctive way of life. Therefore, engaging with it is out of the question. Instead, we should all choose an animal for New Year’s (preferably a plant-eating one), adopt its way of life and spend the rest of our days strolling along this way. Completely harmonious, simple and clear. The world would be a better place and I have already decided: The hippopotamus is what it’s going to be. saw

Excuse me?

After two thousand years: crosses on the summits of every mountain,

but in the valleys no paschal communities?

 

* * *

 

Is it that two thousand years after the incarnation of the word:

the flesh was made word again?

luw

Wherefrom – whereto?

There was a time when Christianity was lived.

It was so strong that we still live off of it today.

 

We have come far. Come far away from what?

luw

Trust

A cheerful barbeque with former colleagues above the roofs of Munich. A thirty-year-old Syrian, who works as a cleaner in the company and has lived in Germany for four years, is also of the party.

He proudly states that as an Aramaic Christian he speaks the language that Jesus used to speak. When ISIS took the houses and shops away from his family he fled from Damascus. We talk about the difficulties of the refugees, the different religious backgrounds and political problems. I ask his opinion on what all this here will come to in view of the many challenges. To that he says calmly: “You know, as long as two or three are gathered together in his name, I’m not worried.” heg

Elf commissioner

In the online version of the Rheinische Post published on 6th August, 2018, one could read: “Elf commissioner wants to prevent accidents on the A2 with ‚energetic sealing‘.”

The elf commissioner, it remained unclear by whom she had been commissioned, was active on the A2 with an animal communicator. Right away she had felt „very sad energies” on the highway. “In some cases they were upset creatures of nature, who were rebelling and wanted to take back their bit of nature.” Wild boars caused many accidents because their territory had been taken from them, “hooligans spoiling for a fight”.

What does it mean in this context when clergy bless cars, motorcycles, dogs and other things? How are critical contemporaries supposed to be able to differentiate? anm

There I sit, from Munich

There I sit, from Munich, in Bad Wörishofen; a Hungarian orchestra is playing in the health resort’s pavilion.

Request program: Franz v. Suppé, born in Dalmatia; Mozart, the father from Augsburg; Boccerini, from Luca in Italy; from Norway Edvard Grieg, Solveig’s Song; Jaques Offenbach, German-French composer; Franz Lehar, actually of Hungarian descent, it is about the Volga and someone lonely standing by her banks. And all of a sudden they all hum along “Have you up there forgotten me?” – final metaphysical longing? Reflecting on a possibly wasted life? But now it is getting cheerful, now everyone is singing, those between 70 and 95, those from the north – Prussians they used to say – those from the west, north, northeast. Oh, a Swiss voice and there – French, next door you can hear the Italians in the ice cream parlor: “We belong to the Imperial-Royal Infantry Regiment” (a German-Austrian military march). I thought I was dreaming – there she is, the EU, just at a health resort, at rehab because of severe dislocations? The solo-violinist’s attempted-pretty gold dress is a small reminder of culture, appropriate for an evening at the Scala in Milan. Here and there someone already left earlier, probably their wish had already been played. Then still someone came and talked loudly to his partner about where the best seat for them might be. Curious impression: Europe at a health resort concert. pez

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