The sun rises every morning. I do not rise every morning, but the variation is due not to my activity, but to my inaction. Now, to put the matter in a popular phrase, it might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due, not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life.
The thing I mean can be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun, and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon.
It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. (paragraph breaks added)
Source: Orthodoxy, GK Chesterton
I don’t think it’s a mystery, someone has the secret locked in a vault.
Carla – 🙂 Along with the recipes for the Big Mac sauce and the KFC spices? Maybe . . .
The Hallgrimskirkja that strips the forms of detail and allows the light to emphasize the lift of the pale columns and the warm glow from the vault seems to me the most spiritual of these designs.
Laurna – Our Icelandic guide commented on the difference between this design and the ornate interior of the stereotypical Roman Catholic church. I grew up in plain (& uninspired, I’d say) United Church buildings on the prairies. Although I find full-on ornamentation a tad overwhelming, I look for something a little less austere than Hallgrimskirkja. It’s beautiful but verging on cold, to my eye.
Nice pun, Carla. “Vault” an arched structure, usually made of stones, concrete, or bricks, forming a ceiling or roof over a hall, room, sewer, or other wholly or partially enclosed construction.
Laurna – Thanks for catching it on my behalf. This is me, covered in confusion.
My double-take was not swift. And now I have to find out why the vault that vaults from pillar-top to pillar-top is the same word that describes a crypt. You may be surprised how often your posts send me scurrying through dictionaries and websites for half a day! Delightful distractions!
Laurna – Yes, a good question. I find I observe these odd overlaps in another language, but take for granted those in English.
As you know, there are many different kinds of arches. The “Roman” arch, which doesn’t rise to a point, tends to feel squat and heavy. A low flat ceiling tends to crush us. I think these are called “Gothic” arches; they soar. Are they inspiring because they point up — to where heaven was supposed to be. I doubt if many of us still believe in a deity who lives “up there” somewhere, but these arches still have the ability to inspire. Perhaps their design recognize that we are essentially earth-bound creatures, and we long — as Ken Wilber keeps saying — to transcend ourselves into a greater dimension.
Jim T
Jim – Well, they’re extraordinary, that’s for sure – and in a good way.
I believe you are infringing on a registered trademark.
Eric – 🙂 Not I! It’s those (medieval & otherwise) architects.
So many beautiful photos!! You have an eye for photography, don’t you? Looks like the trip delivered on sights and experiences.
Jackie – Many thanks. I do have a few zillion photos to go through . . .