WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020
Gerard Van der Leun
Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.
— Robinson Jeffers
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
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How does it end? About 2/3 through I got something in my eye.
What every deployed person with a dog feels like when Mom’s front door opens.
-Seen it. As he said. “Home is heaven when you’re out.”
Man, I hope so. See you soon, Nikki.
I think so. See you soon, Cody Boy >3
I guess I’ll be getting there in a little while. Getting near on to 80 now. Got me to thinking about the dogs in my life. I lose count after about 15 or so. If the video is real, and I sure hope it is, It’s going to be a big party.
At the final judgement and resurrection, the Saints, in their physical bodies, will repopulate a reconstructed Eden, an actual, physical, purified Earth. The new Eden will contain all plants and animals of the old one, even dinosaursk, and you get your old dogs and cats back.
At least that was the original Christian belief. Somehow it has been replaced by a purely spiritual Heaven, which of course would have no place for animals without souls.
Bob,
All good things come from Him. It would be completely reasonable to be with all that we loved.
I have not considered it prior, but it would be great to see Cinnamon, our perfect German Sheppard.
The deceased that we will be reunited with will be those that we had a true love for or deep emotional connection. Emotion seems to be the key to this reunion. Animals and people will be there. Many relationships will not be revisited as there is no real connection, including so called love relationships, marriages, etc. There won’t be a lot of teeth gnashing over events on planet earth, good or bad. It will seem as if we got off a train at the wrong location, fooled around for a while, and got back on to go home.
When my youngest was around 7 years old, I had to console her, because her Sunday school teacher had assured all the children that there would be no reuniting with pets in Heaven, because pets have no souls. She cried herself into quite an inconsolable puddle in my arms. I assured her that pets do wait for us in Heaven. I explained that if God had created all the creatures of the earth and provides for even the little sparrows in the fields, as we are told He does in the Bible, then He would certainly have our dear departed pets waiting for us there. I believe that Hell will have a special room for those adults who take perverse pleasure in smashing out the light of life and joy in children’s souls. Recently, my elderly mom has found great comfort in talking about departed family, friends, and pets that she will soon be reunited with. Our pets are glimpses of pure Heavenly love here on earth. They are my little angels that have taught me many of life’s lessons.
I cannot imagine Heaven without the animals who lived here along with us. I’ve known a lot of great dogs and especially a lot of great horses in my life and I have this idea that if I get there I’d like the Lord to come riding up with my beloved grand parents, all on our old ranch horses and put me right back with my beloved old buckskin mustang cowpony, Roy.
I have four cats already waiting for me in the heavenly stadium reserved for all NL fans: two Phillies cats, a Mets kitty, and the Pirates Queen. A number of theologians from Martin Luther to Helmut Thielicke to C.S. Lewis believed that humans will meet their pets again in heaven; FWIW, three of the four Doctors of the Latin Church (Ambrose, Jerome, and Gregory the Great) are known to have had pet cats. To h-ll with ignorant Sunday School teachers; the ones I had as a kid were much better than the one Annie Rose mentioned. One of them had the wisdom to say that if Jesus didn’t love animals, why did John the Baptist point to Him (John 1:29) as the Lamb of God?
Last week Sarah Hoyt posted an account of the passing of her cat Greebo, titled “They’re Serving Tuna in Valhalla Tonight.” Greebo was a mighty warrior cat who fought off feral toms when he was just a kitten; amputated a fox’s tail on one occasion; and chased off a fugitive that the cops were pursuing. “I heard a war cry from Greebo, and a scream, and a guy ran out the backdoor, with Greebo on his head, yowling and tearing him up. The neighbors said, he just ran in the middle of the street, and gave himself up. Greebo came back, strutting, and we fed him well that night.”
The rest of Greebo’s saga is here: https://accordingtohoyt.com/2020/07/20/theyre-serving-tuna-in-valhalla-tonight/
Be prepared to find something in your eye.
If not to be with those we loved, human or animal, what’s a Heaven for?
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hunt_(The_Twilight_Zone)
You’ve made me think of the few dogs I’ve had the pleasure to be master to. Chipper, Thor, Pepperpot, Large Marge… I’m sure there will be more.
You also reminded me of a poem I think I read here, ‘The House Dog’s Grave’. It ends with:
You were never masters, but friends.
I was your friend.?I loved you well, and was loved.
Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end.
If this is my end,?I am not lonely.
I am not afraid. I am still yours.