Eumenides

Eumenides by Aeschylus is the last play in a trilogy about Agamemnon and his dysfunctional family.  In the second episode Orestes had killed his mother Clytemnestra in response to her murdering his father Agamemnon.  Orestes has wandered the earth seeking atonement.  Apollo has been his guide and champion in obtaining cleansing from his guilt.  Apollo had also directed him to carry out the murder.

The chorus in Eumenides is composed of the Furies, who are avenging spirits.  They rail against Apollo and the atonement of anyone who has murdered his mother.  Orestes believes he was justified in this act, because his mother had killed his father.  The Furies believe that his was the greater sin, because he shared common blood with his mother.

Orestes appeals to the goddess Athena who convenes a jury to hear the evidence.  Apollo argues Orestes’ case.  One of his arguments is that the father actually “begets” and the mother is only a vessel in which the planted seed grows.  So, Orestes had a greater tie to his father than to his mother.  Apollo’s lack of knowledge of reproductive science notwithstanding, when the jury casts their votes,  the count shows they are split evenly.  Athena casts the deciding ballot in favor of Orestes being acquitted.

The Furies are distraught.  The reason for their upset is not exactly altruistic.  It isn’t just that Orestes has gotten away with murdering his mother, it is also that they have lost the argument, and so believe, that their influence and respect given them will be diminished.  Athena convinces the Furies to become protectors of the city of Athens, and thus, to receive honor.  Eventually they are convinced, Zeus is praised, and all is well.

Interesting quotes:

Athena:  Wrong shall not triumph here by force of oaths.

The Furies:  The deed is done, but thence ensues the consequence.

The Furies:  Never be this thirsty ground,

                Drunk with fratricidal blood,

                Nor lust of Power insatiate

                Snatch at vengeance evermore.

                In one fellowship of Good

                Each be to his neighbor bound,

                One in love and one in hate;

                For such grace,  where’er  ‘tis found,

                Lays the balm to many a wound.

I am curious about the way in which these plays were actually presented.  The chorus has major passages to recite.  Where they able to do this with sufficient unity and clarity that the audience could actually understand what was said?  What was it like to go to the theater in ancient Greece?  I am perfectly OK with never knowing the answer to that question. 

Irony

This morning as I exercised in the hotel fitness room, the television was tuned to HLN.  The reporter read a story in a totally neutral tone about a billboard that had been taken down, because of its message:  “The most dangerous place for an African-America is in the womb.”  The billboard message was obviously placed by an anti-abortion group and created a major uproar.

The next story, read in an oh-how-sad tone was about dead baby dolphins washing up on the Gulf shores.

Oh, the irony.

In our society it is perfectly acceptable to intentionally kill unborn African-American babies, but we are supposed to feel guilty that our actions (i.e. the Gulf oil spill) may be causing dolphin deaths.

Something is radically wrong with our collective reasoning.

Stranger on a Plane

During the second leg of our journey yesterday, my husband and I were assigned seats on the plane that were not together.  We aren't sure how this happened as he had booked the tickets several weeks ago.  The agent at the departure counter was at least able to change our seating so that we were across the aisle from one another. He sat next to a man wearing a headset, who was not at all interactive.  I sat next to 9 and 12 year old boys.  Their mother and sister were in the row behind us.  I tried offering that my husband and I would switch seats with the mother and her daughter, so that their family group would all be within sight of each other.  She declined.  My offer was not entirely altruistic.


I repeat.  I sat next to 9 and 12 year old boys...on a four hour flight.


The mom had plenty of food along which she passed between the seats to the boys.  The 9 year old, who was next to me, ate a sandwich wrap as soon as we were airborne.  It was filled with lettuce, other veggies and chunks of chicken, which fell out in all directions as he ate.  I actually found this somewhat amusing, but only because I am not the one who cleans the plane.


The boys were remarkably well behaved for the first three hours.  They had electronic games to keep them busy.  However, after that time period, they apparently hit the wall and began hitting each other.  I had not tried to engage them in conversation prior to this, not knowing how the mother would feel about a stranger behaving like a grandmother.  But, when the punching started I told the boys to "cool it," and then started to talk to them to distract them from each other.


At first the older boy, who was next to the window, talked to me briefly, telling me their names and ages, where they lived, and where they were going.  That produced a hiatus in the altercation.  When things heated up again, I talked to the younger boy who was sitting next to me.  I learned that he is a twin to his sister, that his favorite subject in school is PE (because recess is sometimes boring), that he likes lacrosse, and that they were on their way to a skiing vacation for two weeks.  We covered a great many other topics.  His most poignant comment was this:
"I have a grandfather that lives in Maine."
I asked, "Where in Maine?"  
"I don't know, " he replied.  "We never visit him," and then wistfully and with a slight shrug, "I don't know why."


I thought about my two granddaughters who live in Maine, and how much I enjoy visiting them.  I wondered what family dynamics caused the lack of visits for which the boy had no explanation.  I didn't ask any questions, although my head was spinning with them. "Is the grandfather, the father of an ex-husband?  Is he a drunk or otherwise undesirable person for children to be around?  Is he the mother's father, and are they estranged?"  I didn't want to be a busy-body stranger on the plane, so I took the conversation in another direction.


But, I wonder if the grandfather's heart aches over this.  I think a little boy's heart does.  Being a 9 year old boy, I doubt that he dwells on it, but when it occurs to him, there is a twinge.


Sometimes as adults, we make decisions with little thought as to the impact on children.  We think they are oblivious, but a stranger on a plane may learn otherwise.

A Little Dose of Guilt

Time magazine came today and includes a color-coded map indicating what percent of total household consumption expenditure is spent on food in various countries around the world.  Only 7 percent is spent on food in the US and Canada, while 45% goes for food in Kenya and 46% in Pakistan.  


I can't help but think of all the things I would not have if nearly half of what I spent had to go towards food.  I am not an extravagant person by American standards. I never buy the most expensive of anything.  I walk through the mall and can't figure out who keeps all those stores in business.  My house is furnished comfortably, but it doesn't reek of money.  I still feel a bit guilty.


I am no more valuable in God's sight than the poorest soul on earth.  I didn't do anything to deserve to be born in the United States.  I am grateful for a warm house on a cold night, for clean running water, for a comfortable bed and soft pillow and for the good meal we had this evening.  It is true that my husband and I are hard workers, but so are many people around the world who have none of the comforts and conveniences we enjoy.


Those of us with abundant resources do have an obligation to the rest of the world.  We are stewards of what God allows us to have.  It is a good thing to be reminded.

Choephoroe by Aeschylus

Evil seems to have a trickle-down effect on generations to come.

As the play Choephoroe opens, Agamemnon has been killed by his wife and her lover and has been buried.  His daughter Electra and a chorus of women go to his tomb to mourn.  There Electra finds a lock of Orestes’ hair.  Orestes is her brother (Agamemnon’s son) and has been out of the country.  She realizes he must have returned.

The siblings stand mourning at the tomb and plotting to murder their mother Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus in revenge for their father’s murder.   At one point Electra declares, “We live in a community of hate.”  The decision is made that Electra will go back home as though nothing much has happened.  Orestes and his friend Pylades will get inside the palace by pretending to be travelers looking for refuge for the night.  This they do.  Once inside they carry out their plan to kill Clytemnestra and Aegisthus.

Although he has spent several pages justifying his actions, Orestes is, after the deed, plagued by a vision of creatures with blood dripping from their eyeballs coming after him.  He rushes off leaving the chorus to sum things up.  They, of course, are clueless as to whether these murders are the end or the beginning.

“Shall I hail thee Wind of Deliverance, or art thou a blast of doom?

Oh, when will thy course be finished, when wilt thou change and cease,

And the stormy heart of Havoc be lulled into lasting peace?”

As I write this, Egypt has been in upheaval for two weeks.  President Hosni Mubarak has just resigned.  But, is this the end or just the beginning?

Is our world a “Community of Hate?”

Agamemnon Lives

Poor Agamemnon, he arrives home after many years at war against Troy, during which time he has suffered extreme hardship.  His wife Clytemnestra welcomes him warmly.  However, as soon as she has him behind closed doors, she stabs him to death.

Do I feel sorry for Agamemnon?  Hmmmm…..he sacrificed his own daughter in order to appease a goddess.  He went off to war over Helen, his brother’s wife.  He came home with the lovely Cassandra in tow as spoils of the war.  Clytemnestra was angry….no surprise there.

Do I feel sorry for Clytemnestra?  Well, she had an affair in Agamemnon’s absence and her lover was complicit in the murder.

What is the matter with these people?!?

The same thing is the matter with people now. 

In this morning’s paper, I read of two brothers who got in a fight over shoveling snow.  One hit the other in the head with a baseball bat.  On the internet is a story of a newborn baby abandoned in a toilet.  In the dentist’s office this morning, I paged through a book of the most important photographic images of the 20^th Century.  We have all seen the Vietnamese girl with anguish written on her face, who has been burned by napalm , and is running down the road naked.  Man’s inhumanity to his fellow man is unending.  The news is the same every day…just the names of people and places change.

And yet, we have those who believe that human nature is basically good.  Certainly, there are many good people in the world, but all of us are capable of evil if the right buttons are pushed.  At a minimum, we all know how to be self-serving.  The image of God implanted in us has been marred by our own self-will.  We are incapable of consistent goodness on our own.  Hence, the need for the redemption that comes through the shed blood of Christ and for a daily recommitment of our hearts and minds to being a conduit of His goodness.  Our own goodness is always questionable.  It is just not GOOD enough.

No Less Beautiful

 No less beautiful....just less colorful and colder.  
A morning in Florida last week,
Or this morning in northern New York.
I just need to dress for the occasion, 
So I put on my heavy coat,
My hat and boots and gloves.


No less beautiful...just less colorful and colder.
A time of peaceful non-events ...smooth sailing,
Or the chaos and distress that life can be.
I just need to dress for the occasion,
So I put on a hopeful heart,
And wrap myself in layers of faith.

Reflections

In the stillness of the water,
In the vastness of the sky,
Images reflected
Perfectly.

Colorful reminders,

Every pastel shade,

An Almighty hand,

Has artfully made.

I search for you below,
I seek you out above,
Everywhere examples,
Everlasting love.

In the depths of my heart,

In heaven's infinity,

The reflected image,

Of eternity.