Regardless of your creed or convictions (or lack thereof), it’s hard to deny that the King James translation of the Bible is an epic tome of efficient diction, unforgettable narratives, and beautifully wrought poetry. The translation—arguably the most widely read text in the English language—celebrates its 400th birthday this year and deserves praise for its enduring allure and literary relevancy.

via Utne Reader.

Barth: CD I/2 §16.2

To have our master unavoidably in Jesus Christ is to be subjected to a definite formation and direction. We can adapt ourselves to other masters. We can imitate them. We can model ourselves after them, or even on the caricature of them. No other master has the power to subordinate another man to his direction and leadership in such a way that the latter is completely himself and not a cast, and yet completely represents the form and the way of the master and not a caricature... The formation and direction of a man by the Word of God, which becomes a reality with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, has nothing to do with imitation. We must again insist that under this formation and direction, man remains the man he is. His own nature and thinking and willing and feeling, both in general and in detail, is not lost. But in the light of this his own being, he remains a sinner before God. Yet this very being of his as a sinner before God is subjected to the Word of God, and is therefore formed and directed by that Word. And because the subordination and therefore the formation and direction are perfect, there takes place at this point what imitation intends but can never achieve: the master acquires a pupil, a servant, a scholar, a follower, in whom he finds himself again, and in whom, accordingly he, the master, can also be found again by others.

How perfectly put, how beautifully understood!

1. everything that’s already in the world when you’re born is just normal;2. anything that gets invented between then and before you turn thirty is incredibly exciting and creative and with any luck you can make a career out of it; 3. anything that gets invented after you’re thirty is against the natural order of things and the beginning of the end of civilisation as we know it until it’s been around for about ten years when it gradually turns out to be alright really.

Apply this list to movies, rock music, word processors and mobile phones to work out how old you are.

via Douglas Adams: How to Stop Worrying and Learn to Love the Internet.

Douglas Adams died ten years ago, today.

Astonishingly beautiful work by Ryan Woodward for Google's doodle today:

Heart-breaking.

Like so many of life’s varieties of experience, the novelty of a diagnosis of malignant cancer has a tendency to wear off. The thing begins to pall, even to become banal. One can become quite used to the specter of the eternal Footman, like some lethal old bore lurking in the hallway at the end of the evening, hoping for the chance to have a word. And I don’t so much object to his holding my coat in that marked manner, as if mutely reminding me that it’s time to be on my way. No, it’s the snickering that gets me down.

On a much-too-regular basis, the disease serves me up with a teasing special of the day, or a flavor of the month. It might be random sores and ulcers, on the tongue or in the mouth. Or why not a touch of peripheral neuropathy, involving numb and chilly feet? Daily existence becomes a babyish thing, measured out not in Prufrock’s coffee spoons but in tiny doses of nourishment, accompanied by heartening noises from onlookers, or solemn discussions of the operations of the digestive system, conducted with motherly strangers. On the less good days, I feel like that wooden-legged piglet belonging to a sadistically sentimental family that could bear to eat him only a chunk at a time. Except that cancer isn’t so ... considerate.

via Vanity Fair.

NT Wright, on recent events:

Consider the following scenario. A group of Irish republican terrorists carries out a bombing raid in London. People are killed and wounded. The group escapes, first to Ireland, then to the US, where they disappear into the sympathetic hinterland of a country where IRA leaders have in the past been welcomed at the White House. Britain cannot extradite them, because of the gross imbalance of the relevant treaty. So far, this seems plausible enough.

But now imagine that the British government, seeing the murderers escape justice, sends an aircraft carrier (always supposing we've still got any) to the Nova Scotia coast. From there, unannounced, two helicopters fly in under the radar to the Boston suburb where the terrorists are holed up. They carry out a daring raid, killing the (unarmed) leaders and making their escape. Westminster celebrates; Washington is furious.

What's the difference between this and the recent events in Pakistan? Answer: American exceptionalism. America is subject to different rules to the rest of the world. By what right? Who says?

via guardian.co.uk.

I think Wright is wrong when he implies that US:Pakistan::UK:US

Well, perhaps not wrong... mere exaggeration?

Or perhaps I don't understand the realities of the IRA when compared to al-Qa'ida.

In any case, he makes a depressing point. Who decides what is terrorism, and what is justifiable action against it? I find myself in agreement with the action taken by the US in Abbottabad (for complicated reasons, some of which have to do with the fact that I'm Indian and grew up with a certain unfortunate perspective on Pakistan...), while grieving the real complexity of evil and our hopelessly wrong, inherently subverted & evil-multiplying attempts to defeat violence with more violence.

Revelation, reason, wisdom & love have long since departed this discourse, and all that's left is the rhetoric of power, politics, deception & hatred.

מרנא תא

Missionaries receiving offerings from Christians at Harvest Festival, Jamalamadugu.

via USC Digital Library.