Heracleidae by Euripides

Iolaus, an older gentleman, has taken it upon himself to protect the children of Heracles, who has been killed.  He has wandered from country to country seeking refuge for himself and the two boys and a girl, who are being pursued by the Argives.   He arrives before the altar of Zeus in Marathon, believing that here at last he will be able to find refuge and protection.

At first, it appears that Demophon, the King of Marathon, will allow him to stay, but shortly Corpeus, a representative of the Argives, arrives demanding that the refugees be surrendered to him.  When Demophon refuses, Corpeus leaves, but returns with an army of Argives.  Eurystheus, King of the Argives, is demanding that a young woman of noble birth be sacrificed to appease him and buy the safety of Heracles’ offspring.  Iolaus offers himself, but Eurystheus would gain nothing by the death of “one so old,” so this is not acceptable.

Macaria, daughter of Heracles, offers herself in order for her brothers to live.  I’m not clear on why it happens, but a battle erupts in spite of her sacrifice.  Alcmena, grandmother to the children arrives on the scene. Iolaus decides that he must join the battle even though he is elderly.  The Argives lose, and it is reported that Iolaus was as a young man again while he fought.

Eurystheus is brought, bound before Alcmena.  She wants him killed and says she will do it herself if no one else will.  Eurystheus defends his actions in trying to kill the children of Heracles.  Even though he is actually related to them, he felt he had to kill them because they would hate him for killing their father.  He claims to have been afflicted with this determination by Hera.  Eventually, he is taken away to be killed.

Observations:

*Euripides once again exhibits his notion that the only noble thing a woman can do is to die sacrificially.  This seems to be an on-going theme for him.  …here I offer my life freely and without constraint, and for my brothers and myself I undertake to die.  For I, by loving not my life too well, have found a treasure very fair, a glorious means to leave it.

*The difficulty of accepting one’s declining strength as one ages is demonstrated in Iolaus’ desire to fight.  In his case, something miraculous happens, and he actually becomes young and strong again.  …he is a hero whom the gods delight to honour…he hath passed from age to youth once more.  Fantasy!  Reverse aging only happens in fiction.

*I know the temper and nature of these citizens; they would rather die, for honour ranks before mere life with men of worth.  Marathon is described elsewhere in the play as a “free city.”  Here hast thou found men and a free city, that feared not thee.  I suppose this means that it was a democracy, although it had a king.  The founding fathers of the United States had probably read this and other early Greek works espousing the idea that freedom was worth personal sacrifice.  I just wish that in Euripides’ works it was the men, and not so frequently the women, who were ready to put their lives on the line.

Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places

I have favorite verses in the Bible, but I also have least favorites.  I really dislike these verses.

Adding one thing to another to discover the scheme of things…while I was still searching, but not finding…I found one upright man among a thousand, but not one upright woman among them all.  Ecclesiastes 7: 27-28

Ecclesiastes was written by Solomon, who supposedly was an exceedingly wise man.  However, I have been observing since I was a teenager that really smart men can be really stupid when it comes to women.  I am pretty sure that Solomon’s wisdom betrayed him in this area.

In I Kings 11: 1-3 We find some evidence of the problem. 

King Solomon, however, loved many foreign women…they were from nations about which the Lord had told the Israelites, “You must not intermarry with them, because they will surely turn your hearts after their gods.  Nevertheless, Solomon held fast to them in love.  He had seven hundred wives of royal birth and three hundred concubines, and his wives led him astray.

I have read commentary that Solomon had all these wives because it was common for a lesser king to give a greater king one of his daughters to cement the relationship between their kingdoms, so these ladies were sort of forced on poor Solomon.   I understand the concept, but it does say “Solomon held fast to them in love.”  So, it sounds to me like he was a willing participant.

Now let’s do the math.  700 wives + 300 concubines =1000 women.

Hmmm…doesn’t that verse in Ecclesiastes say he couldn’t find one upright woman among 1000?

Clearly, he was “looking for love in all the wrong places.”

What's going on between my ears?

Sometimes I ponder a question that I suspect could result in insanity if I pursued it too far:  Do any of us really know each other?  I have been married to the same man for 45 years and know him better than anyone else does.  He knows me better than anyone else does.  But, do we really KNOW each other?

We all spend our waking hours thinking with some degree of control over those thoughts.  We spend our sleeping hours with our brains in a state which I do not understand and over which we don’t seem to have much control.  Even we don’t remember all of what passes through our minds while sleeping, but let’s not worry about that right now.  There is enough to be concerned about regarding what is processed during waking hours.

Someone once accused me of saying everything I think.  Oh, boy!  He was very mistaken on that notion.  My brain is endlessly busy all day long.  I think about people and their actions.  I “write” stories or fragments of them which will never appear in print.  I invent dialogues between me and someone I know or someone I create with my imagination.  I think about conversations I overhear in public and how they might fit into the context of the speaker’s life.  I remodel houses and plan sewing projects.  I talk to God all day about all sorts of things, and I pray for people as I think of them.  But, sometimes I start traveling down a dark road…what nasty thing might I be able to get away with?  I stop myself before I travel very far….no…no…I refuse to think about that.

The point is that my dear husband, who knows me better than anyone, is unaware of about 90% of what I think.  I am certainly unaware of what he is thinking about all day.  Occasionally, he will tell me something that he has obviously been pondering for weeks or months and hasn’t previously mentioned.  I am surprised…huh?  I had no idea he was thinking about that!

None of us knows what is going on in another’s mind.  Is it just white noise or are the wheels actually turning?  Am I typical, or am I an “outlier” because my gears seem to rotate non-stop at a rapid rate?  We each only know what has been sufficiently filtered that the other person feels safe sharing it.  What is being guarded behind the locked door?

For the word of God is living and active.  Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow: it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.  Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight.  Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.  Hebrews 4:12-13

Someone does know my thoughts and yours.  He knows us in a way we cannot possibly know each other.  Fortunately for us, He loves us anyway.

Dead Men's Glasses

They collect them, you know…

Dead men’s glasses.

Boxes can be found in public,

Strategically placed.

                                                       

Somewhere, a person without resources

Stumbles along with blurry vision.

Someone’s cast-offs, could be

Someone else’s clarity.

I have a bagful, from my uncle.

He saved nearly everything.

I possess a ninety-one year collection,

Of objects, papers, insights.

I will drop his glasses

In a box so designated.

Would that I could drop his insights,

Into someone blindly stumbling.

Defining Times

I think as people grow older they increasingly look back at the defining times in their lives.  For my Dad, it was his years in the Army during World War II.  For me, it is my years in nursing school...not the same kind of "war," but an agonizing struggle with life and death, nonetheless.

Recently I thought about an experience that occurred about this time of year in 1965.  I was a student spending 3 months at Chicago State Hospital for my psychiatric nursing experience.  I was assigned to a male ward which housed about 30 men, as I remember it.  We didn't have much direction or supervision.  We sort of made our own way trying to build relationships and be "therapeutic."  We didn't have specific patient assignments, although we were expected to pick a patient and do a case study.

An elderly man was admitted to the ward.  Over the course of 3 or 4 days, I noticed a deterioration in his condition.  I had not spent any time talking with him, but I noticed that instead of being well-groomed and clean, he was unshaven and dirty.  As I approached him, I realized he had even soiled himself.  I sat down next to him and began to talk with him.  He started to cry.  Something told me this wasn't just depression.  I asked enough questions to learn that he was diabetic and had NOT received any of his medications since entering the hospital.  I immediately talked with the head nurse and had him transferred to the infirmary...the place where patients who were sick physically, as well as mentally, were taken.

When the whole story came out, we discovered that this man's family was tired of taking care of him.  They apparently decided that a convenient way to get rid of him was to admit him to the psychiatric hospital and not tell anyone that he was diabetic.  I suppose he was confused enough that they got away with the psychiatric admission.  They were probably hoping he didn't have the mental clarity to tell anyone he was diabetic.  He certainly did not have the initiative.  

So, why is this a defining experience?  I was 19 years old and had not previously seen enough of the evil side of the world to realize that some people are unloved and unwanted.  I had not really thought about the responsibility that I bore in that environment.  It was frightening to think what might have happened, if I had not been there enough days in a row to observe the change in him.

Someone recently commented to me that his son studied theology in college, but he doesn't have a job in that that field.  He is concerned that those years of education are being "thrown away."  I told him that his son's education is now part of his character and his world view, no matter what field he works in.  

The experiences I had in nursing school are part of my character and world view.  They are a large part of what defines me.

East Wind

A Meditation on Isaiah 27:8

“...with his fierce blast he drives her out, as on a day the east wind blows.”

Swirling, hot blasts,

Windswept desert sand,

Blinding the eyes,

Grating on the flesh,

Driving from the land.

Stinging winter chill,

Pounding all around,

Icy, frozen pellets

Chasing me to shelter,

Covering the ground.

Descending from the heavens,

Soaking to the bone,

Advancing sheets of rain,

Curtains of moisture,

Pushing me towards home.

Only for a season,

This uncommon flow of wind,

Punishing, yet directing,

Scourging, yet protecting,

Leading me to him.

The east wind does not forever blow.

Of All Men Most Miserable

If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.   I Corinthians 15:19

This verse is puzzling to me if it is quoted outside of the context of the chapter.  When it stands alone, I don’t agree with it.

If after death, all I had to look forward to was hell, then I would definitely agree.  But, if after death, there was oblivion…nothingness, the end of existence, I would not be of all men most miserable.

I do believe in and totally expect to end up in heaven when I die, but if death was THE END, having Christ in this life would still have been worth the commitment.  I did not accept Christ as my personal Savior to escape Hell.  I accepted Him as my Savior to embark on a life-long relationship.  By God’s grace that is what I have had.  I look for guidance through His Word and praying, not just aloud and formally, but within my own mind and spirit on a more than daily basis….”Lord, what do you want me to do next?  Help me set my priorities for day.  What can I say to this person to whom I’m talking?  What should I do about the situation which has just presented itself?  Please help me not to do anything stupid that is harmful to someone else.”  I am able to cope with challenges, because I do not feel alone.  I feel the peace and strength that comes from knowing that I live and move and have my being in His love.  (Acts 17:28)

Of course, if we look at I Corinthians 15:19 in the context of the surrounding verses, Paul’s point is that if Christ has been raised from the dead, He has conquered death, and that is why we have the hope of living forever.  He has conquered death for us too.  If we have hope only in this life, it is because He was not raised and our whole faith comes in to question.  It all hinges on His resurrection.  He is alive!  If it were not so, we would be miserable!

Relationship in this life and hope for the next life are part of an integral package.  I am grateful for the reality of His presence now and overwhelmed by the prospect of an eternity with Him.