Christian Democrats in the United States

Tuesday, March 10, 2009 1:36 AM

shakespeare and the case for humanity

A portrait of William Shakespeare purported to be the only one painted of the Bard in his lifetime was revealed recently.

Compare to period portraits of Queen Elizabeth I. Same facial structure, same nose, same sly grin.

It astonishes me how stupid people are, how for 500 years they've bought the lie that Shakespeare was a man. Clearly "he" had to be highly educated, versed in classical literature and had a radical and often feminist social agenda, and had a lot of spare time. And, "he" was of course highly favored by the Queen. Shakespeare, like Queen Elizabeth I, rejected the conventions and traditions of the day and created an empire of the English language, which has today reached its fruition across the globe.

Luckily in America we have every right to declare, without any further facts or evidence, that we see through it, that if so inspired, we can lay bare the truth before the world about this just as we can the misguided machinations of ancient orders who delude themselves that they can plan an architecture for the future. "The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone."

It is difficult for me to see God's justification for the continuing presence of humanity. We are very little different than the beasts of the field, except that we pretend to be in control of ourselves and when we cannot maintain that control we lash out at each other with far more vicious cruelty. We are prisoners of sin, we cheat and steal and rape and murder, we lie that we love, while under our breath we curse each other and are possessed by urges to destroy our children or our parents. When we are harmed by others and lose our innocence, then in our rage we hurt the innocent. We soil our nest and ravage the garden that was once Eden. Our presence here is undesirable. Deep down in our hearts we know this, and so we try to destroy ourselves.

Yet despite all this, despite our squabbles, despite our industrial attempts to lay waste the earth, despite 65 years of impending nuclear doom, we are still here. Why? What is it we are supposed to learn? I really don't have the foggiest clue. It must be something, or God wouldn't have declared his reality that night in the clouds. But I don't know what. Manifest destiny, to bring life to where it is not, on Mars our new Earth, and beyond, beyond our solar system, seems a possibility. To love one another, is another strong contender. Perhaps both, but many of us, myself included, often feel shut out from either process, with neither destiny nor love to guide our lives, feeling lost, and hopeless, and useless to ourselves and others, to humanity and to God.

Maybe there will be another sign, for all to see. I hope so. It is entirely possible to change the future, to deviate from our own self-destructive plans. Perhaps it gets slightly better each time we play it out.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
(As You Like It 2/7)

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