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New blog post: August 31 – An excerpt from A Generation by Krzysztof Kamil Baczyński http://bit.ly/kmFIP [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: The Polish American Community in the 21st Century: Challenges and Opportunities Conference http://bit.ly/17SWE0 [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: The National Church model versus Ostpolitik http://bit.ly/NT6qv [deacon_jim]
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Bishop Hodur strongly advanced the idea of the National Church model (really no different than the Orthodox model – the local bishop with his clergy and people around the Holy Eucharist represents the fullness of the Church). Among the reasons for this advocacy was Bishop Hodur’s knowledge and experience of the Polish Church’s struggles. Real world experience showed that the good of the local Church was often secondary to the political machinations of the Bishop of Rome and the Vatican bureaucracy.
Hillary White (thanks to the Young Fogey for the links) has two articles that explore the Vatican’s betrayal of local Church leaders, particularly Cardinals Mindszenty and Beran. The Wikipedia article on the Vatican’s “Ostpolitik” refers to the phenonena as an invention of Paul VI. In fact it is a policy that has been entrenched in the Vatican for centuries. Poland was betrayed numerous times
Read Church of Traitors and Church of Traitors, Part II. The telling lines from Part II:
Casaroli continues,
…
“We opted for negotiations, because we didn’t know how long those regimes would last, and in the meantime we had a moral obligation to insure that the Church had priests, that the faithful could receive the Eucharist and go to Confession. If we lost the hierarchical institution, we would lose the Church…”
Now, this is interesting, because I have known some priests who were underground in Soviet bloc countries and their stories are illustrative. Had the Vatican supported their efforts, would the Faith have died or flourished? Would the Church have been “lost” as Casaroli said? Hard to say at this distance in time.
But from what I have been told, the Church was flourishing. And one of my informants was a Slovak priest who was ordained secretly in Czechoslovakia, one of the countries that Casaroli described as a “hardline” state in which the Church would have “died out” without his “careful step-by-step diplomacy”.
The difference, perhaps between men like Casaroli in the Vatican and the men actually baptising and marrying and saying Mass in secret in these countries was that the latter knew and accepted the possibility of martyrdom. It seems that Casaroli and his popes rejected that possibility utterly and were more interested in creating comforts, a typical Novusordoist goal.
I wonder, who bore true witness to the faith, who stood on the side of God’s politics? In my book it was the local Church, those who knew the situation on ground, the evils of the communist system, the violence and selfishness of its leaders, and who nevertheless chose to face the consequences of witness to the faith. As Tertullian wrote: The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church.
Ye who have wandered thro’ each foreign land
Have marked the Seine and Tiber’s silver course
And raised’ the eye to Alpine summits grand,
Should ye not blush to seek for beauty’s source
In other countries than your own? Behold
Where scenes as beautiful arrest the eyes
In Ojców’s groves and forests manifold —
Its river’s flow, its rocks that grandly rise!
Translation from Poets and Poetry of Poland A Collection of Polish Verse, Including a Short Account of the History of Polish Poetry, with Sixty Biographical Sketches of Poland’s Poets and Specimens of Their Composition by Paul Soboleski
Komu obce strony znane,
Wstydem lice swe zarumień,
Jeśliś widział Tybr, Sekwanę,
A Prądnika minął strumień.Po co szukać obcych krajów,
Alp odwiedzać grzbiet wysoki?
Wśród Ojcowa skał i gajów
Równie szczytne masz widoki.
The Polish American Congress has announced its National Conference program: “The Polish American Community in the 21st Century: Challenges and Opportunities (Polonia Amerykańska w XXI w.: Wyzwania i Możliwości).”
The PAC National Conference to be held October 15 and 16, 2009, in Chicago, Illinois at Northeastern Illinois University. The theme of the conference is “The Polish American Community in the 21st Century: Challenges and Opportunities, The conference offers leaders, activists, and all persons interested in a vigorous Polish American community an opportunity to exchange experiences, share aspirations, and discuss best practices with others from across the United States.
The two-day conference, beginning at 9:00 am Thursday, October 15 and concluding Friday evening, October 16, will feature both general and issue-specific sessions. Elected leaders and representatives of Chicago, Illinois, the United States, and the Government of Poland are expected to address the conference’s Opening Session. Representatives and guests from Poland have been invited to join in selected sessions.
General sessions will examine the profile of the current Polish American community (often referred to as “Polonia”); leadership development; relations between the United States, the Polish American community and Poland; and the future of Polonia and its organizational challenges and opportunities.
Issue-specific sessions will address a range of topics, including: educational partnerships, teaching and learning; the role, importance and need for ethnic organizations; increasing political involvement and influence in the American political process; preservation and promotion of Polish culture and heritage in the United States; opportunities for participating in business between the United States and Poland; and networking in the community through sports, charities, and professional and social networks.
A reception and recital of the music of Chopin and Paderewski will conclude Thursday’s sessions. A concluding reception on Friday will afford participants an opportunity to network and socialize. Displays of information about the Polish American community, organizations and contributions will be featured around the university’s conference center.
Information about the National Conference, registration, arrangements, and opportunities for supporting the event is available from the Congress’ conference site or by contacting the Congress at 1612 K Street NW, Suite 410, Washington, DC 20006, Tel.: (202) 296-6955, Fax: (202) 835-1565.
Merciful and loving Father, Who knowest the misfortune of our nation, with eyes of mercy look Thou down upon us; pardon our sins, make straight our ways, watch over a guide us amid the confusion of the world, that serving Thee in truth and righteousness, we may behold at length Thine everlasting light. Through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. — A Prayer for the Polish Nation from A Book of Devotions and Prayers According to the Use of the Polish National Catholic Church.
Zakazane piosenki – Dnia pierwszego września
Forbidden songs – On the First of September
Dnia pierwszego września, roku pamiętnego
Wróg napadł na Polskę z kraju sąsiedniegoNajwięcej się uwziął na naszą Warszawę
Warszawo kochana tyś jest miasto krwaweKiedyś byłaś piękna bogata wspaniała
Teraz tylko kupa gruzów pozostałaDomy popalone, szpitale zburzone
Gdzie się mają podziać ludzie poranioneLecą bomby z nieba brak jest ludziom chleba
Nie tylko od bomby umrzeć będzie trzebaGdy biedna Warszawa w gruzach pozostała
To biedna Warszawa poddać się musiałaI tak się broniła całe trzy tygodnie
Jeszcze Pan Bóg pomści taką straszną zbrodnie.
From the Wikipedia list of events in September 1939:
- September 1 —“ World War II: At 0445 Central European Time, the German battleship Schleswig-Holstein opens bombardment on the Westerplatte, a Polish military base outside Danzig, firing what are, according to many sources, the first shots of World War II. At the same time, regular Wehrmacht troops begin crossing the border into Poland.
- September 15 —“ World War II: Diverse elements of the German Wehrmacht surround Warsaw and demand its surrender. The Poles refuse and the siege begins in earnest.
- September 17 —“ World War II: The Soviet Union invades Poland and then occupies eastern Polish territories.
- September 22 —“ World War II: Joint victory parade of the [German] Wehrmacht and [Russian] Red Army in Brest-Litovsk at the end of the Invasion of Poland.
- September 28 —“ World War II: Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union agree on a division of Poland after their invasion.
- September 28 —“ World War II: Warsaw surrenders to Germany; Modlin surrenders a day later; the last Polish large operational unit surrenders near Kock 8 days later.
A link to memories of the beginning of the war and the mass deportation of Poles to Russian slave labor camps from three Roman Catholic sisters courtesy of the Young Fogey.
From the Guardian, a video of the dawn memorial service at Westerplatte where the first shots of the war were fired.
Dr. John Guzlowski will be speaking on Saturday, September 5, 2009 between 10 and 11:30am at Michigan’s commemoration service held in conjunction with the Polish Roman Catholic Mission at the Orchard Lake Schools.
Russian revisionist history, setting the stage for the next conflict by excusing the crimes of the past: “…but it wasn’t all our fault that we deported 1.7 million Poles to Siberia, killing 1.3 million in the process including the 25,000 unarmed Polish military officers, police and intellectuals we shot to death in Katyn over a few days.”
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New blog post: September 1 – September 1, 1939 by W. H. Auden http://bit.ly/MDZGL [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Remembering September 1, 1939 http://bit.ly/2BJc8 [deacon_jim]
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I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism’s face
And the international wrong.Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
“I will be true to the wife,
I’ll concentrate more on my work,”
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the deaf,
Who can speak for the dumb?All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.
We learned the lesson: conscience does not exist
We dwell in caves, fear covers us,
we carve in horror our dark loves,
our own statues – evil troglodytesWe learned the lesson: love does not exist.
How else can we hide in the darkness
while sniffing nostrils seek our scent,
while swollen sticks and fists seek to envelop usWe learned the lesson. Pity does not exist.
In dreams we see our brother dead.
alive, they picked out his eyes
alive, they broke his bones with a club;
the chisel of pain works hard
the eyes are bubbles swollen with blood.
Translation unattributed
Wiatr drzewa spienia. Ziemia dojrzała.
Kłosy brzuch ciężki w gorę unoszą
i tylko chmury – palcom czy włosom
podobne – suną drapieżnie w mrok.Ziemia owoców pełna po brzegi
kipi sytością jak wielka misa.
Tylko ze świerków na polu zwisa
głowa obcięta strasząc jak krzyk.Kwiaty to krople miodu – tryskają
ściśnięte ziemią, co tak nabrzmiała,
pod tym jak korzeń skręcone ciała,
żywcem wtłoczone pod ciemny strop.Ogromne nieba suną z warkotem.
Ludzie w snach ciężkich jak w klatkach krzyczą.
Usta ściśnięte mamy, twarz wilczą,
czuwając w dzień, słuchając w noc.Pod ziemią drżą strumyki – słychać –
Krew tak nabiera w żyłach milczenia,
ciągną korzenie krew, z liści pada
rosa czerwona. I przestrzeń wzdycha.Nas nauczono. Nie ma litości.
Po nocach śni się brat, który zginął,
któremu oczy żywcem wykłuto,
Któremu kości kijem złamano,
i drąży ciężko bolesne dłuto,
nadyma oczy jak bąble – krew.Nas nauczono. Nie ma sumienia.
W jamach żyjemy strachem zaryci,
w grozie drążymy mroczne miłości,
własne posągi – źli troglodyci.Nas nauczono. Nie ma miłości.
Jakże nam jeszcze uciekać w mrok
przed żaglem nozdrzy węszących nas,
przed siecią wzdętą kijów i rąk,
kiedy nie wrócą matki ni dzieci
w pustego serca rozpruty strąk.Nas nauczono. Trzeba zapomnieć,
żeby nie umrzeć rojąc to wszystko.
Wstajemy nocą. Ciemno jest, ślisko.
Szukamy serca – bierzemy w rękę,
nasłuchujemy: wygaśnie męka,
ale zostanie kamień – tak – głaz.I tak staniemy na wozach, czołgach,
na samolotach, na rumowisku,
gdzie po nas wąż się ciszy przeczołga,
gdzie zimny potop omyje nas,
nie wiedząc: stoi czy płynie czas.Jak obce miasta z głębin kopane,
popielejące ludzkie pokłady
na wznak leżące, stojące wzwyż,
nie wiedząc, czy my karty iliady
rzeźbione ogniem w błyszczącym złocie,
czy nam postawią, z litości chociaż,
nad grobem krzyż.
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New blog post: Daily Digest for August 30th http://bit.ly/UXCsP [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Dożynki Polish Harvest Festival at HMR Cathedral Parish in Buffalo http://bit.ly/sOmae [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Liturgy and Worship Workshop in Latham, NY http://bit.ly/sUhdh [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: August 30 – An excerpt from Esther by Jean Racine http://bit.ly/unNaC [deacon_jim]
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Esther
O Rachel, is it you? Thrice happy day,
O blessed heaven, which sends you to my prayers.
You did not know that I was made the Queen?
More than six months my friends have sought for you.
Where have you been?Rachel
I heard that you were dead,
And hearing this, I lived most miserably,
Until a prophet told me, “Do not weep,
But rise, leave this, and take the Shushan road;
There you will see your Esther crowned the Queen.
And on your way comfort the wretched tribes;
Tell them the day approaches when our God
Will send His comfort with a powerful arm.”
I heard his words, and hurried to the palace.
Marvellous it is that proud Ahasuerus
Has crowned his captive, made a Jewess Queen.
O by what hidden ways, what strange events,
Has Heaven led you to this great position?Esther
Have they not told you of the great disgrace
Of the proud Vashti, Queen before my coming?
The King divorced her, but when she was gone
His mind was troubled, and he sought for one
To bring him comfort.
They sought throughout the world in every land
To find a Queen.I, as an orphan, lived alone and hidden
Under the care of watchful Mordecai:
He is my uncle, and he tended me.
Sad for the trouble of the captive Jews,
He told me all his secret plans, and I
Obeyed his wish, and sought to be the Queen.
Who could express the plots and counter-plotsOf all these courtiers, striving for the honour,
Striving to catch Ahasuerus’ eyes.
At last Ahasuerus’ order came to me,
And I appeared before the mighty King.
Long time he watched me in a sombre silence,
Then gently spoke: “You shall be Queen,” he said,
And crowned me with his royal diadem.
Then followed days of joys and festivals;
Esther was Queen, and seated in the purple;
Half of the world was subject to her sceptre.
But grass is growing in Jerusalem,
The stones are scattered from the holy Temple,
The God of Israel’s worship is no more.Rachel
Have you not told the King your troubles, Esther?
Esther
The King? Even now he knows not that I am a Jewess,
For Mordecai keeps me secret still.Rachel
Can Mordecai come about the Court?
Esther
His love for me finds out a thousand ways
To send advice, and me to ask for it.
A Father has less care for his own son.
Already by good Mordecai’s cunning
I have laid bare to the King the treacherous plots
Made by two slaves against him.
Meanwhile my love for our beloved race
Has filled this palace with young Jewesses.
Here I can care for them and teach their souls.
Among them, putting by my queenly pride,
I bow myself before the feet of God;
I hide from all the Persians who they are.Come! Come, my daughters,
Companions here of my captivity.Rachel
Innocent children, may God give you peace.
Esther
My daughters, sing us one of those sweet psalms
That tell of Zion.1st Chorus
We cannot sing of Zion without tears.
2nd Chorus
How can we sing the happy songs of home In this strange land?
Translated and adapted by John Masefield.
ESTHER.
Est-ce toi, chere í‰lise? O jour trois fois heureux!
Que béni soit le del qui te rend í ines voeux,
Toi qui de Benjamin comme moi descendue,
Fus de mes premiers ans la compagne assidue,
Et qui, d’un míªme joug souffrant l’oppression,
M’aidais í soupirer les malheurs de Sion.
Combien ce temps encore est cher í ma mémoire!
Mais toi, de ton Esther ignorais-tu la gloire?
Depuis plus de six mois que je te fais chercher,
Quel climat, quel désert a donc pu te cacher?ELISE.
Au bruit de votre mort justement éplorée,
Du reste des humains je vivais séparée,
Et de mes tristes jours n’attendais que la fin,
Quand tout í coup, Madame, un prophète divin:
"C’est pleurer trop longtemps une mort qui t’abuse,
Lève-toi, m’a-t-il dit, prends ton chemin vers Suse.
Lí tu verras d’Esther la pompe et les honneurs,
Et sur le trône assis le sujet de tes pleurs.
Rassure, ajouta-t-il, tes tribus alarmées,
Sion: le jour approche où le Dieu des armées
Va de son bras puissant faire éclater l’appui;
Et le cri de son peuple est monté jusqu’í lui.»
Il dit; et moi, de joie et d’horreur pénétrée,
Je cours. De ce palais j’ai su trouver l’entrée.
O spectacle! O triomphe admirable í mes yeux,
Digne en effet du bras qui sauva nos aïeux!
Le fier Assuérus couronne sa captive,
Et le Persan superbe est aux pieds d’une Juive.
Par quels secrets ressorts, par quel enchaînement,
Le Ciel a-t-il conduit ce grand événement?ESTHER
Peut-íªtre on t’a conté la fameuse disgrâce
De l’altière Vasthi, dont j’occupe la place,
Lorsque le Roi, contre elle enflammé de dépit,
La chassa de son trône, ainsi que de son lit.
Mais il ne put sitôt en bannir la pensée.
Vasthi régna longtemps dans son âme offensée.
Dans ses nombreux í‰tats il fallut donc chercher
Quelque nouvel objet qui l’en pí»t détacher.
De l’Inde a l’Hellespont ses esclaves coururent;
Les filles de l’í‰gypte í Suse comparurent;
Celles míªme du Parthe et du Scythe indompté
Y briguèrent le sceptre offert í la beauté.
On m’elevait alors, solitaire et cachée,
Sous les yeux vigilants du sage Mardochée.
Tu sais combien je dois í ses heureux secours.
La mort m’avait ravi les auteurs de mes jours;
Mais lui, voyant en moi la fille de son frère,
Me tint lieu, chère í‰lise, et de père et de mère.
Du triste état des Juifs jour et nuit agité,
Il me tira du sein de mon obscurité;
Et sur mes faibles mains fondant leur délivrance,
Il me fit d’un empire accepter l’espérance.
A ses desseins secrets tremblante j’obéis.
Je vins. Mais je cachai ma race et mon pays.
Qui pourrait cependant t’exprimer les cabales
Que formait en ces lieux ce peuple de rivales,
Qui toutes disputant un si grand intéríªt,
Des yeux d’Assuérus attendaient leur arríªt?
Chacune avait sa brigue et de puissants suffrages:
L’une d’un sang fameux vantait les avantages;
L’autre, pour se parer de superbes atours,
Des plus adroites mains empruntait le secours;
Et moi, pour toute brigue et pour tout artifice,
De mes larmes au ciel j’offrais le sacrifice.Enfin on m’annoní§a l’ordre d’Assuérus.
Devant ce fier monarque, í‰lise, je parus.
Dieu tient le coeur des rois entre ses mains puissantes.
Il fait que tout prospère aux âmes innocentes,
Tandis qu’en ses projets l’orgueilleux est trompé.
De mes faibles attraits le Roi parut frappé.
Il m’observa longtemps dans un sombre silence;
Et le Ciel, qui pour moi fit pencher la balance,
Dans ce temps-lí sans doute agissait sur son coeur.
Enfin, avec des yeux où régnait la douceur:
"Soyez reine,» dit-il; et dès ce moment míªme
De sa main sur mon front posa son diadème.
Pour mieux faire éclater sa joie et son amour,
Il combla de présents tous les grands de sa cour;
Et míªme ses bienfaits, dans toutes ses provinces.
Invitèrent le peuple aux noces de leurs princes.Helas! durant ces jours de joie et de festins,
Quelle était en secret ma honte et mes chagrins!
"Esther, disais-je, Esther dans la pourpre est assise,
La moitié de la terre í son sceptre est soumise,
Et de Jérusalem l’herbe cache les murs!
Sion, repaire affreux de reptiles impurs,
Voit de son temple saint les pierres dispersées,
Et du Dieu d’Israí«l les fíªtes sont cessées!»í‰LISE.
N’avez-vous point au Roi confié vos ennuis?
ESTHER.
Le Roi, jusqu’í ce jour, ignore qui je suis.
Celui par qui le ciel règle ma destinée
Sur ce secret encor tient ma langue enchaînée.í‰LISE.
Mardochée? Hé! peut-il approcher de ces lieux?
ESTHER
Son amitié pour moi le rend ingénieux.
Absent, je le consulte; et ses réponses sages
Pour venir jusqu’a moi trouvent mille passages.
Un père a moins de soin du salut de son fils.
Déjí míªme, déjí , par ses secrets avis,
J’ai découvert au Roi les sanglantes pratiques
Que formaient contre lui deux ingrats domestiques.
Cependant mon amour pour notre nation
A rempli ce palais de filles de Sion,
Jeunes et tendres fleurs, par le sort agitées,
Sous un ciel étranger comme moi transplantées.
Dans un lieu séparé de profanes témoins,
Je mets í les former mon étude et mes soins;
Et c’est lí que, fuyant l’orgueil du diadème,
Lasse de vains honneurs, et me cherchant moi-míªme,
Aux pieds de l’í‰ternel je viens m’humilier,
Et goí»ter le plaisir de me faire oublier.
Mais a tous les Persans je cache leurs familles.
Il faut les appeler. Venez, venez, mes filles,
Compagnes autrefois de ma captivité,
De l’antique Jacob jeune postérité.UNE DES ISRAí‰LITES
Ma soeur, quelle voix nous appelle?
UNE AUTRE
J’en reconnais les agréables sons.
C’est la Reine.TOUTES DEUX.
Courons, mes soeurs, obéissons,
La Reine nous appelle:
Allons, rangeons-nous auprès d’elle.TOUT LE CHOEUR
La Reine nous appelle:
Allons, rangeons-nous auprès d’elle.í‰LISE.
Ciel! quel nombreux essaim d’innocentes beautés
S’offre í mes yeux en foule et sort de tous côtés!
Quelle aimable pudeur sur leur visage est peinte!
Prospérez, cher espoir d’une nation sainte.
Puissent jusques au ciel vos soupirs innocents
Monter comme l’odeur d’un agréable encens!
Que Dieu jette sur vous des regards pacifiques.ESTHER
Mes filles, chantez-nous quelqu’un de ces cantiques
Où vos voix si souvent se míªlant í mes pleurs
De la triste Sion célèbrent les malheurs.UNE ISRAí‰LITE
Déplorable Sion, qu’as-tu fait de ta gloire?
Tout l’univers admirait ta splendeur:
Tu n’es plus que poussière; et de cette grandeur
Il ne nous reste plus que la triste mémoire.
Sion, jusques au ciel élévee autrefois,
Jusqu’aux enfers maintenant abaissée,
Puissé-je demeurer sans voix,
Si dans mes chants ta douleur retracée
Jusqu’au dernier soupir n’occupe ma pensée!