KES Chapel Reflection, Week of 30 May
Take with you words
“Take with you words and return unto the Lord,” the prophet Hosea tells us. “The way up and the way down are one and the same,” the philosopher Heraclitus states. “Repentance,” Lancelot Andrewes, one of the great Anglican preachers of the 17th century, says “is redire ad principia, ‘a kind of circling’,” a returning back to the one from whom we have turned away. These words complement one another and highlight the purpose of Chapel. It is all about a kind of circling around and into the mystery of God, the beginning and end of all created beings, especially rational creatures, as Thomas Aquinas reminds us.
Hosea is the great love-prophet of the Old Testament. But what kind of love? The love that is forgiveness and grace, the love that redeems and perfects all of the myriad forms of our imperfect loves. Our loves have no meaning apart from what they presuppose and seek but cannot achieve or attain on their own.
Take with you words? Last Chapels are special and poignant times, I think, because of what we have been through together in the long course of the School year, and, for that matter, over many years. All the diverse enterprises of our lives, all the various aspects of our life together as a School are gathered into the mystery of God in prayer and praise. And what is that gathering except the understanding? The struggle and challenge is to enter into the images of scripture and literature to discover something about what it means to be human. Intellectus is the gathering into understanding; in short, education.
Take with you words, Hosea says. For what purpose? Wisdom and understanding. Nothing less and nothing more. “Whosoever is wise, let him understand these things; whoever is discerning, let him know them; for the ways of the Lord are right.” The understanding is profoundly ethical. In every way it recalls the principle upon which our being and knowing radically depend, something which we have been exploring in the stories of the Resurrection seen in terms of the different ways of knowing through which we arrive at an understanding of our world and ourselves. It challenges us about the perennial questions of good and evil, of right and wrong, of the realities of suffering and death, and of how we face them.
Take with you words that connect with the great works of literature, words which are transformative. In and through the ups and downs, the tempests and storms of our world and day, there is, as Ariel in Shakespeare’s Tempest says, the possibilities of “a sea-change into something rich and strange.” Or like Caliban, embraced in the spirit of reconciliation and forgiveness, we too may learn to say “I’ll be wise hereafter and seek for grace.” Or in a Canadian register, we might note the advice of Lady Juliet d’Orsey in Timothy Findley’s novel The Wars, “to clarify who you are by your response to when you lived.”
