Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 24 (Last One!)

The final three chapters of Ourselves Book II are titled Thanksgiving, Praise, and Faith in God. They carry one overall message: that we may consider ourselves to be smallandunimportantselves, without great talents or special knowledge; but as human beings, Personsouls, we share both the opportunity and the duty to know, love, and serve our heavenly Father.

"There are poets to whom it is given to utter some vital word, painters who present us with 'The Light of the World,' or, like the Russian painter, Ivan Kramskoi, with a vision of Christ seated in the wilderness. Such as these praise God, we know, but they are few and far between. 
"So, too, do honest, simple souls who bear affliction willingly, or who live their appointed lives with the sense that they are appointed. All of these ways of giving praise we recognise and bow before; but the duty would seem to pass us by as incompetent persons. We are not angels, we carry no harps. But the duty of praise is not for occasional or rare seasons; it waits at our doors every day"  (pp. 194-195).

"We know no more about the Creation than we do about the Incarnation, no more about the forgiveness of sins than about the resurrection of the body. All is mystery, being what the heart of man could not conceive of unless it had been revealed...Where we err is in supposing that mystery is confined to our religion, that everything else is obvious and open to our understanding. Whereas the great things of life, birth, death, hope, love, patriotism, why a leaf is green, and why a bird is clothed in feathers––all such things as these are mysteries; and it is only as we can receive that which we cannot understand, and can discern the truth of that which we cannot prove, and can distinguish between a luminous mystery and a bewildering superstition, that we are able to live the full life for which we were made" (pp. 200-201).

* * * * * * * * *   * * * * * * * * *   * * * * * * * * *
Thank you for sharing this journey! Wishing you all a very happy Christmas.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 23

(Book studied: Ourselves Book II, Part III)

Chapters III, "The Knowledge of God," and IV, "Prayer," are full of Christmas gifts for us to unwrap.

"A little plant of moss, the bareness of a tree in winter, may, as we have seen, awake us to the knowledge; or, dealings of strange intimacy with our own hearts, visitings of repentance and love, sweet answers to poor and selfish prayers, tokens of friendship that we can never tell, but most surely perceive, are all steps in this chief knowledge." (p. 184)

Are we longing to know God better, but we think the Bible is too hard to read, or we've been told it's full of errors? "But, as the friend listens to the voice, pores over the written word of his friend, so the lover of God searches the Bible for the fuller knowledge he craves...he believes that in these is to be found, and nowhere but in these, a revealed knowledge of God...a revelation of God which satisfies and directs every aspiration of the Soul of man." (pp. 184-186, italics hers). All for us: the gift of the Word.

"We cry in fear, and hope is spoken to us; in penitence, and we breathe peace; in sympathy, and we expand in love. These are the answers of our 'Almighty Lover' to the dull, uncertain movements of our poor hearts." (p. 188)

Do we need to know that we are heard and understood? God responds to both "felt prayers" and habitual, disciplined meditation and petitioning. All for us:  the gift of prayer.

"But the seeking must be of single purpose; we must not be bent upon finding what we take for dross, whether in the Bible, in the ordering of the world, or in that of our own lives. Our search must be for the grains of gold, and, as we amass these, we shall live and walk in the continual intimacy of the divine Love, the constant worship of the divine Beauty, in the liberty of those whom the Truth makes free." (p. 187)

Are we lonely because most people are "too far off" for us, and connecting is difficult for whatever reason? We are offered true intimacy with one who will not desert us. "'This is eternal life,' said our Lord, 'to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent'; and this knowledge, this exalted intimacy, is open to us all, on one condition only––if we choose" (p. 183). All for us: the gift of a restored relationship with God. As one of our little children put it: "God and sinners recon-smiled."

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 22

"How is the Soul of a man to be satisfied? Crowned kings have thrown up dominion because they want that which is greater than kingdoms...There is no satisfaction for the Soul of a man, save one, because the things about him are finite, measurable, incomplete; and his reach is beyond his grasp; he has an urgent, incessant, irrepressible need of the infinite." (Ourselves Book II, p. 175)

Charlotte Mason asks a hard question for "religious" people: when we say that that empty space inside us cannot be satisfied outside of relationship with God, are we referring only to a one-time prayer of salvation? Or do we have more to give, and more to gain? She obviously believes so:

"We have within us an infinite capacity for love, loyalty, and service; but we are deterred, checked on every hand, by limitations in the objects of our love and service. It is only to our God that we can give the whole, and only from Him can we get the love we exact; a love which is like the air, an element to live in, out of which we gasp and perish." (p. 176)

Mason offers a few thoughts on coming to faith, and warnings for complacent Christians. (We might say this is her version of the Parable of the Sower.) She previously told us to be "alert," and now she warns us not to be "inert." Spiritual sluggishness can happen to any soul. She also warns against "such preoccupation of Mind or Heart as leaves no room for the dominating and engrossing thought of God" (pp. 178-179). Do we need God? Do we want God? Is there room for Him in our hearts?

 "Let us hold fast our loyalty, knowing that this, of making with our Will deliberate choice of God, is the only offering we can make Him; knowing, too, for our comfort, that involuntary aversion is not sin, and only gives us occasion for choice; but, when we choose to turn away, our sin does not put us without the limits of mercy, but it is immeasurably great" (p. 181).

The third danger to the soul is aversion. We are fallen human beings. We struggle with a desire for sin that pushes us away from all that is good (Romans 7:15-17). But celebrate with this thought: God gave us free will.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 21

Chapter XI is the last chapter on the subject of the Will. (The last few posts will focus on the Soul.)

How do you feel about living in a commonplace respectability which never errs? Doesn't that sound like a good thing?

"Deliver us from lazy imitation," says Charlotte Mason.

How about having an aim to do well, to get on and prosper?

"He that saveth his life shall lose it."

Why did Christ pronounce "woes against the respectable classes?" Because they were so tied up with their own well-being that they could not get free to follow Him. Those who had less reason to be pleased with themselves had more open ears.

"This much we discern––that, in the man of good-will, the Will is absolutely free; that, in fact, there can be no will but a free will."

To live under the rule of Will, with the object of serving the One who loves us, is true freedom.  "Our Wills are ours to make them Thine," quotes Charlotte Mason, and they are the best gift we can offer Him.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 20: Watch that back door

"The real act is the thought." ~~ Charlotte Mason

Charlotte Mason begins Chapter X with a summary of The Will, and we badly need one after several very packed chapters. 

1. The Will acts upon ideas.

2. Ideas are presented to the mind in many ways--by books, talk, and spiritual influences.

3. "To let ourselves be moved by a mere suggestion is an allowance and not of will."

4. "An act of will is not the act of a single power of Mansoul, but an impulse that gathers force from Reason, Conscience, Affection."

5. "Having come to a head by degrees, its operations also are regular and successive, going through the stages of intention, purpose, resolution." 

 6. "When we are called upon for acts of will about small matters, such as going here or there, buying this or that, we simply fall back upon the principles or the opinions which Will has slowly accumulated for our guidance."

7. "We know that what we do or say matters less than what we will; for the Will is the man, and it is out of many acts of willing that our character, our personality, comes forth."

Remember this thought from Day 11?

"Last weekend we were driving through a nearby town that was built on a flood-prone river. "The houses up on the hill are the ones to own," someone commented. "The ones down by the river...well, you take your chances." So does building our spiritual house on a hill keep us immune from floods and temptations? It probably can't hurt! But nothing (nobody) is immune to attack, and in Chapter XVIII, "Temptation," Charlotte Mason acknowledges that there are forces outside of ourselves that search out our weak spots, and try to prevent us from keeping what she calls a trusty spirit."

Anybody who's made resolutions that last less than a week knows how that works. If there are cookies tied up with string in a box on the shelf, Frog and Toad are going to climb up and eat them. We say that we know ourselves too well, that we've tried to get ourselves into shape, and that we're just being honest when we say that our bad character traits are just who we are. It would be nice to live on the hill, out of the reach of floods, but we know how close our own house is to the river. 

Now follow closely here, because a Charlotte Mason "Wow, I Never Thought of That" idea is about to unfold. 

Situation: you have a bad temper. Usual way of dealing with it: you work on your temper, but you keep losing your temper, and worrying about how you lost your temper, and think about how you're not going to lose it next time. You wear a string around your finger or write little reminders to yourself. But then somebody pushes your buttons, and you blow up, and you're very sorry, and you're sure that next time you'll be able to handle things better, but then off you go again. Is there a better way? 

"The place to keep watch at, is, not the way of our particular sin, but that very narrow way, that little portal, where ideas present themselves for examination. Our falls are invariably due to the sudden presentation of ideas opposed to those which judgment and conscience, the porters at the gate, have already accepted. These foreign ideas get in with a rush. We know how that just man, Othello, was instantly submerged by the idea of jealousy which Iago cunningly presented. We know of a thousand times in our own lives when some lawless idea has forced an entrance, secured Reason as its advocate, thrown a sop to Conscience, and carried us headlong into some vain or violent course." (pp. 166-167) 

(Side note: did you notice how Mason snuck in that bit of Shakespeare? Remember how the first few chapters were packed so full of literary allusions, reminding us that Story is a prime way to educate the Conscience? This is just another example.)

The problem is that, once a idea, moral or intellectual, has gotten inside, "neither Reason nor Conscience can be depended upon." The job of Reason and Conscience is to keep unworthy ideas out. Reason and Conscience are both the interrogators and the muscle at the door. Charlotte Mason calls them "the two janitors" (p. 167). But once those "bad boys" are inside, all bets are off.

Take a pro-active lesson from real-life high-security measures. Think airports. Think top security at the White House. Use your bank of cameras to zoom in on anyone driving up. Scrutinize them. Ask questions. Do they have their Principle Passports with them, or are those fake I.D. cards? It's not that we want to keep every idea out, just that we want to examine each one closely.

"We are all aware, more or less, that our moral Armageddon is to be fought against an army of insurgent ideas; but, perhaps, we are not all aware of the simple and effectual weapon put into our hands." (p. 168)

And do we fight them in the doorway through sheer willpower, after they're already halfway in? That's the hard way, and (as we know) it can be spectacularly unsuccessful. Here is the most radical piece of advice: if we see them coming in the distance, and our alarms are squawking "Intruder! Intruder!," we stop looking out the window at them. They lose our attention. We move on to more interesting arrivals. This is a win-win Way of the Will decision, for us, and for everybody around us (except for those offering the sorry-not-interested ideas).

When Christmas is a trigger

"Whenever life becomes so strenuous that we are off guard, then is our hour of danger. Ideas that make for vanity, petulance, or what not, assault us, and our safety lies in an ejaculation of prayer,––'O God, make speed to save us! O Lord, make haste to help us!' and then, quick as thought, we must turn our eyes away from the aggravating circumstance and think of something diverting or interesting.––the weather, and the fitting garments for it, are always at hand!" (p. 168)

A friend of AmblesideOnline recently wrote that people who are prone to depression during the holidays, and whose bad feelings can be quite justified by their particular set of circumstances, must nevertheless try to abstain from "scratching that sore place," if only for the sake of their loved ones. It's not that we don't face our emotions, or that we're being dishonest about grief. It's more that we see the flood coming, we acknowledge its presence out there, but we choose to act, for this moment, on a different idea. And determine to keep a trusty spirit.

(Think about it, anyway!)

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 19

A recent T.V. commercial shows a girl growing up and repeatedly hearing a song her father likes, "Ooh La La" by the band Faces. Finally she moves into a college dorm, and, feeling lonely, calls on her techie-device to "Play Dad's playlist."

In Ourselves Book II, Chapter IX on The Will, Charlotte Mason tells some stories of how certain people formed their characters and did the things that they did. What did they value, and what ideas did they pass on to others, even unconsciously? What were their lifetime playlists?

We come across a hero, a picture, an insect, a news story that makes us curious to know more, something we can make our own, something that extends our interest into related areas. We have been captured by an idea, but the capturing happens with intent on our side. And what does that have to do with the Will?

"The Will is, in fact, the instrument by which we appropriate the good, uplifting thought that comes our way; and it is as we seize upon such thought with intention, act upon it with purpose, struggle, with resolution, against obstacles, that we attain to character and usefulness in the world." (p. 164)

Mason's further challenge is the equivalent of this: do we want to be remembered mainly for devotion to a 1970's song? For a love of drugstore romance novels? A collection of ceramic teddy bears? A trophy from the church golf tournament? In the words of another song, "That don't impress me much." We recognize an idea that was worthwhile to begin with because it leads us into a place of magnanimity, help us see things in a bigger way, beyond ourselves.

"Wherefore, in books and men, let us look out for the best society, that which yields a bracing and wholesome influence. We all know the person for whose company we are the better, though the talk is only about fishing or embroidery." (p. 163)

But we aren't all going to earn a Pulitzer or a Nobel or a Caldecott. We can't all invent vaccines, write symphonies, or advise presidents. What if we are very ordinary, plain people, who go about our everyday work and maybe do listen to '70's rock or collect ceramic teddy bears? Listen, Charlotte Mason says: it's all about how you do it.

"But no one need feel left out in the cold because his work seems to be for no greater a purpose than that of earning his living. That, too, is a great end, if he wills to do it with a single aim. He need not mourn that he has no influence; everyone has influence, not in the ratio of his opportunities, nor even of his exertions, but in that of his own personality. Mansoul is in truth a kingdom whose riches and opportunities are for whosoever will." (pp. 163-164, italics hers)

Shepherds. Wise men. Mary and Joseph. Simeon and Anna. All willing. All remembered.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 18

Part One

Here's a little challenge from Charlotte Mason.

Take some positive values like self-control, self-constraint, and self-denial. Really work at them, quite deliberately, until you have the moves down perfectly. Aim to behave in a way that would satisfy even Caroline Ingalls' strictest notions of ladylike restraint. Don't ask for anything, because people will like you much better if you let them have their way in things. Make sure you affirm yourself regularly, that you tell yourself how wonderful you are and, most importantly, how serene you are becoming. And make sure you keep practicing this so that you are happy with yourself and complacent about what a nice person and a great peacemaker you are.

If you have done this successfully, you have just become a very frightening sort of person. The experiment in self-denial has resulted in a severe case of self-absorption, and a deficiency in love. Here is the cure:

"Give the Will an object outside itself, and it will leap to service, even to that most difficult of all service, the control of the forces of Mansoul... It is not self-ordering, but an object outside of ourselves, leading to self-forgetfulness and a certain valiant rising of the will, to which we must look for a cure for the maladies that vex us." (Ourselves, pp. 154-155)

Moral of the story: don't be so busy worrying about how good you are becoming that you forget why you're doing it...or the One you're doing it for (p. 155).

Part Two

Apathy, masquerading as tolerance, has no place in the life of one governed by Will (p. 157). But how are we supposed to decide about anything, when there are so many possibilities, so many sides of things to consider? What if we always seem to have a lot of trouble making up our minds, so much that we're torn and anxious over big and small decisions? That's a warning sign that you've veered off the track, says Charlotte Mason. "The decisions of Will are always simple, because they have, for good or ill, an end in view outside of Self" (pp. 158-159). Of course choosing is hard work, but we are not left completely to ourselves. "As the wise parent sees that his children are invigorated by proper exercise, so we may venture to think that Providence strengthens the children of men by giving to each opportunities for effort, chiefly, perhaps, for this effort of decision" (p. 158). 

And Will, as we have seen, does not work in isolation.

"Throughout our lives, Will has been busy, taking counsel with Imagination, Reason, Conscience, Affection; and forming, by degrees, those great decisions on conduct which we call Principles, or those upon matters of thought which we call Opinions. The opinions and principles are at hand for little and great occasions. Our business is to see that we are not distracted by manifold little movements of Self. Then our decisions are prompt and final; we are not fretted by wondering if we have made a mistake, or, if we should have done better by deciding otherwise." 

What have you been given by God this Christmas? One gift, as we saw earlier, is our growing understanding of our full personhood, the inheritance of our Mansoul, to be used in the service of our Creator. Another gift comes in a thousand little pieces: the many opportunities we are given to strengthen the Will by making choices. Here's the only catch: if you use it for Self, it disappears. Use it for an object outside of yourself, and it will keep on giving.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 17: Let's go Christmas Shopping with Charlotte Mason

What Shall We Buy?

In the previous posts about Will, we mentioned choosing between things and courses of action; but in Chapter IV (The Scope of Will), Charlotte Mason makes a finer distinction and says that the true function of the Will is to choose not between things themselves, but "between the ideas which these represent" (p. 147). 

"We must bring wide reading, reflection, conscience, and judgment to bear upon our opinions, if it be only an opinion concerning a novel or a sermon––upon our principles, if they affect only the ordering of our day." (p. 150)

To take it even further (Mason says), if we think we are just making a "regular" choice about something, let's say buying a Christmas present, we may actually be acting with Will, because we're choosing a principle, maybe, of "common sense and good taste," rather than ego and vanity, or even idolatry. Sometimes using the Will is easier than we think!  

"Once having arrived at principles of choice in such matters, the special occasions give very little trouble. A choice of will implies some previous action of judgment and conscience, some knowledge of the subject, and, generally, some exercise of taste and imagination. We do not choose a thing because we will to do so––that would be mere waywardness; but will acts upon information and reflection." (p. 149)

The key warning word seems to be "suggestion," whether it comes from the media, from what's offered as we browse (online or in a store), or by a salesperson. (See a previous post on this topic.) Those who have read Charlotte Mason's guides to education will recall her criticism of teachers who use "suggestion" as a subtle means of manipulating students. Again, this is a very fine line, because we know that even a tiny suggestion can be very potent, especially if it comes from a respected source. (Idolatry again?) When we can see a mistake about to be made, it is so, so hard to maintain "masterly inactivity" and not to interfere. 

Too complicated? Here's the short version according to Mason: if you're watching kids play, and if nobody's in immediate and serious danger of getting hurt, back off. If giving advice to friends means that you're stealing an opportunity for them to build their choosing muscles, keep quiet. And when it comes to your own choices, realize that you are dealing with ideas more than things, and try to choose based more on "information and reflection," and firm, clear principles, than spur-of-the-moment suggestions.

Shop Till We Drop...Where?

"Cheap 'Notions.'––The dishonest fallacy, that it is our business to get the best that is to be had at the lowest price, is another cause of infinite waste of time, money, and nervous energy. The haunting of sales, the ransacking of shop after shop, the sending for patterns here, there, and everywhere, and various other immoralities, would be avoided if we began with the deliberate will-choice of a guiding principle; that, for example, we are not in search of the best and the cheapest, but, of what answers our purpose at the price we can afford to pay.

"The mad hunt for the best, newest, most striking, and cheapest, is not confined to matters of dress and ornament, household use and decoration. We are apt to run after our opinions and ideas with the same restless uncertainty. Indeed, it is ideas we hunt all the time; even if we go to a sale with the dishonest and silly notion that we shall get such and such a thing––'a bargain,' that is, for less than its actual worth." (p. 149)

Charlotte Mason would seem to be very much in tune with current ideas of sustainable and well-considered shopping. As someone who lives next door to a discount store, I am well aware of the temptations of imported bargains and glitz. Even there, though, I try to think through what comes home. There is no reason to impulse-buy four t-shirts just because they're cheap; but they did have decent cloth handkerchiefs awhile ago, so I bought two packages. I don't buy Santa sweatshirts, but I did buy a solid-colour turtleneck sweater that looked like it would hold up through a reasonable number of washings. In a way, for me, shopping there is a good choice because it means I do not run to other stores looking for bargains. Still, I'm aware of even better alternatives, including fair trade, buying from a local maker, shopping used, or not buying anything new at all (re-using, different-using, up-cycling), and I try to choose those options when I can.

That sounds boring! I would rather live in Whoville at Christmas!

"The great decision open to us all, the great will act of a life, is whether we shall make our particular Mansoul available for service by means of knowledge, love, and endeavour. Then, the opportunities that come are not our affair, any more than it is the affair of the soldier whether he has sentry duty or is called to the attack." (p. 151)

So here's the thing...

If we're available, and not caught up with some other "really important" thing, the adventures will come.

And if we're paying attention, we won't miss hearing the angels.

(Here's a related post from a few years ago.)

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 16

"We choose between Ideas.––It is well, however, to know what it is that we choose between. Things are only signs which represent ideas. Several times a day we shall find two ideas presented to our minds; and we must make our choice upon right and reasonable grounds. The things themselves which stand for the ideas may not seem to matter much; but the choice matters. Every such exercise makes personality the stronger; while it grows the weaker for every choice we shirk." (p. 146)

I said in the last post that Habit can be enough to carry us through the mundane bits of daily life, and this is true. "We are all glad of a little of this kind of help, because it is well to do as others do in some of the small things of life..." (p. 144). But in this chapter, Charlotte Mason shows us why Will is an even better option, if we are up to the challenge. 

Life is a series of endless opportunities for choice, and though that may sound exhausting, it's really just one by one by one; and every choice makes us stronger for the ones that come after it. It's a bit like breathing Narnian air. This fits well with the current push towards living intentionally. Very small daily choices not only add up towards saving X or eradicating Y, but they let the Will do what it was meant to do. 

"...great occasions do not come to us at any time of our lives; or, if they do, they come in the guise of little matters of every day. Let us be aware of this. The 'great' sphere for our Will is in ourselves." (p. 142)

We choose between things, we choose between ideas, and we choose to give our obedience to those over us. The more we don't just pick up or pick out whatever's handy in the small matters, the better we get at making big choices.

And we have to allow others, old or young, the same privilege. "The gown may be becoming or the career may be suitable; but, in so far as we have chosen for another, we have done that other person an injury. We have taken away a chance from him or her of fulfilling the chief function of life, that of choosing" (p. 144).

We are not "choosy" in the sense of demanding jelly when there's only jam, because this choice-making is not self-seeking, not about personal gain. It is magnanimous,  "chivalrous." It is Mary and Joseph, hearing and accepting God's will for their lives. It is the Magi travelling so far, for what? Not to get their pictures taken with the Christ Child, but just to bring their gifts and worship.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 15

In Charlotte Mason's third chapter on The Will, this often-quoted line appears:

"The simple, rectified Will, what our Lord calls 'the single eye,' would appear to be the one thing needful for straight living and serviceableness" (p. 138).

It's a topic I've discussed previously on the blog.  As we saw in the previous post, "Un-Will" is "all that we do or think, in spite of ourselves" (p. 140). We can't help ourselves, whatever it was just pops up or out, and we go along with it. All that we do out of our nature, or out of habit or custom, is not willed.

"Thus far we have seen, that, just as to reign is the distinctive quality of a king, so is to will the quality of a man. A king is not a king unless he reign; and a man is less than a man unless he will" (p. 140).

We need to be careful here, because Charlotte Mason's approach to child training and early education begins with building good habits. Habit, Mason said elsewhere, is "a good servant but a bad master" (Philosophy of Education, p. 53). It's a tool for us to use, but not our default setting for important choices.  If we have a habit of closing the door, we don't have to think about whether to close the door or not, and that's okay. If we have a custom of making a pot of tea in the afternoon, that's fine. To use my friend the DHM's phrase in a different context, we don't use a chainsaw to butter our bread. We need to be people of Will, to bypass the "tempting by-paths and strike ahead" (p. 139); but not everything in life needs to make use of the Will. It's a power tool.

Mason warns that being "turbulent" and "headstrong" is the opposite of being governed by Will. However, acting with Will and having a purpose outside of oneself does not rule out creativity, spontaneity, intuition, or even serendipity. It's those who unconsideringly act from habit, or who fly off with the latest popular idea, who are actually less creative and original. They are less free to act when the moment is right; they miss opportunities to fight boldly for a cause, to live out a principle. Those governed by Will are not bound to some kind of 24/7 scheduling with no surprises: they can act unexpectedly, but in ways that, seen in the big picture, make perfect sense. (But remember that Will is not necessarily moral, so the actions of a criminal or a terrorist can also make perfect sense.)

When I thought about that, here's the illustration that came to mind.

In "A Charlie Brown Christmas," Lucy, who wants only "real estate" for Christmas and who has cast herself as the Christmas Queen in the kids' play, seems to be the perfect example of "turbulent" and "headstrong." Lucy and her friends send Charlie Brown and Linus off to buy a "shiny aluminum Christmas tree," "maybe painted pink." But Charlie bypasses the shiny fakes and chooses a "wooden Christmas tree," the smallest and worst on the lot. "I think it needs me," he tells Linus. He has a principle and a purpose outside of himself: to care for something weak that needs help. To him, that's worth doing the unexpected, even though he second-guesses himself later when he is scolded and ridiculed by the other kids. They later have a change of heart and show the tree some love, which causes it to grow into the biggest, most beautiful Christmas tree ever.

A little tree and a little Will create a little Christmas magic. 

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 14

In the next chapter on The Will, Charlotte Mason gets controversial on some side issues that we can quickly dispense with. Her ethnic musings towards the end of the chapter are not vital to our understanding of the topic.

So let's stick to defining one of the true C.M. distinctives: drawing the line between Will and Wilfulness (or Willfulness, as the spellchecker prefers it). 

Years ago, a visiting missionary at our church talked about her childhood. She grew up in a conservative Christian home, on a farm, and had very few opportunities to "sin," at least in any interesting ways. "But," she said, "I had a nice way of getting my own way." Nobody would have called her a "strong-willed child"; her superpower was being a sweet little girl. She did not stomp her feet and throw tantrums; but she did know how to work situations and people to get what she wanted. Was she Wilful, or was she acting with Will?

Mason can't seem to hit, at first, on the right literary example to show exactly what she means by the Will and Wilfulness. After wandering past a few kings and Bible characters, she narrows it down to the brothers Jacob and Esau. The difference is not which one is sneakier or more untrustworthy, or even which one is more appealing or generous, but only which of the two is "at the mercy of his appetites and his chance desires. Esau must needs have that red pottage...or do whatever his desires move him towards at the moment" (p. 130). So, the first definition of people acting without Will is that they want instant gratification, and that they are at the mercy of chance desires for shiny things. They are marshmallow-choosers, impulse shoppers and even "inordinate novel-readers!"

Here's what Mason says about Jacob, and it's not the description you normally hear:

"Jacob, too, gets his way, often by subtle means, and every subtlety brings its chastisement; but he does not seek his way for its own sake. All his chance desires are subordinated to an end––in his case, the great end of founding the kingdom of promise. The means he uses are bad and good. 'Few and evil are the days of my life,' he complains at the end, so sore have been his chastisements; but, always, he has willed steadily towards an end outside of himself" (p. 131).

So a second definition, or un-definition, of those who act with Will is that they don't always make good moral choices. Recently we watched a few episodes of an old BBC crime drama called The Sweeney, about a squad of police officers who use various means, sometimes morally questionable, to take down criminals. This raises tough questions about how far police should be able to go to protect the community; and, in fact, the real-life team that inspired the show was investigated later for its breaches of ethics. Acting with Will, Mason says, won't necessarily make you morally good, and you may have to face the consequences of those choices.

A life based on Will also won't guarantee success or fame. But people can be very successful without exercising Will. Mason uses Napoleon as an example of someone ruled by ambition and vanity, living for personal ends, and not by the desire "to shape his life upon a purpose" (pp. 132-133). Here's another literary example:

"What a fine study, again, we get of Will and Wilfulness in that crusaders' camp in [Scott's novel] The Talisman! Each of the princes present was engaged in the wilful pursuit of personal ends, each fighting for his own hand. And Saladin looked on, magnanimous of mind and generous of heart, because he was a man of will, urged towards ends which were more than himself. I can hardly conceive a better moral education than is to be had out of Scott and Shakespeare. I put Scott first as so much the more easy and obvious; but both recognise that the Will is the man."

More than ourselves. As Charlie Brown shouts to Lucy, "That's It!" (Imagine Lucy flying through the air...)

And our later-to-be-missionary? Based on this definition, she was not acting with Will at all. Ironically, when we met her (and I think she was about eighty at the time), she was best known for promoting a teaching about submitting our wills, and willing to be made willing. But that is a different will, for another time.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 13

Today we begin the second of three major themes in Ourselves Book II: The Will.

This business of understanding ourselves is, admittedly, hard work. It is made more difficult (Charlotte Mason says) by the tendency of many of our Personsoul attributes to dominate, to not play nicely with others, or (at the least) to seem to run under their own poorly-understood power, to go off on subconscious tangents which can be interesting and even useful (in the case of creative activity), but which leave us feeling sometimes like the observer rather than the initiator. Mason refers to them...or, rather, us...as "a ménage full of unbroken horses, each minded to go his own way and each able to drag the poor [person] after him" (p. 127). She also points out that even our seemingly more decisive actions, such as the ability to "reason, imagine, love, judge" can be put on autopilot: no actual decision-making necessary.

"Life is to such persons a series of casualties; things happen well or they happen ill, but they always happen; and the absence of purpose and resolution in themselves makes it impossible for them to understand that these exist in God; so their religion, also, comes to consist of conventional phrases and superstitions" (p. 128).

Do you know what the "governor" on an engine does? It's a regulating device that contains speed or force. It keeps the system from getting out of control. When Charlotte Mason refers to the Will as a governor in Mansoul [or Personsoul], it may help us to add that mechanical image to our ideas of the things that governors do. (Consider this: to will is also a verb.) She will be examining the function of the Will much more closely throughout this section.

For now, she simply gives us that image of "the willless life, marked by a general inanition of powers and an absence of purpose,––beyond that of being as others are, and doing as others do." No regulators, but also no purpose. The prospect is bleak.

But consider this:

"The assumption of an impersonal beginning cannot adequately explain the personal beings we see around us; and when men try to explain man on the basis of an original impersonal, man soon disappears.

"In short, an impersonal beginning explains neither the form of the universe nor the personality of man. Hence it gives no basis for understanding human relationships, building just societies, or engaging in any kind of cultural effort. Itís not just the man in the university who needs to understand these questions. The farmer, the peasant, anyone at all who moves and thinks needs to know. That is, as I look and see that something is there, I need to know what to do with it.  

"...The universe had a personal beginning -- a personal beginning on the high order of the Trinity. That is, before "in the beginning" the personal was already there. Love and thought and communication existed prior to the creation of the heavens and the earth." ~~ Francis Schaeffer, Genesis in Space and Time

 

"Love came down at Christmas..."

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 12

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King,

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!"

~~ Charles Wesley

Let's look at the "You are Here" map for Ourselves Book II.  We have almost completed Part I: did you even remember there was a Part I? Part I is The Conscience, Part II is The Will, and Part III is the Soul. In Part I, we have read Section I.--Conscience in the House of Body, Section II.--Conscience in the House of Mind, and we are almost finished with Section III.--The Function of Conscience. Section III is only three chapters long. We have skimmed through "Conviction of Sin" and "Temptation"; today we finish with "Duty and Law." 

I chose the above verse after thinking through recent events in my own town. Short version: a church with an a somewhat outspoken pastor was participating in a public music-food-and-shopping Christmas event, and they got themselves into hot water by doing a little off-the-cuff Bible reading and preaching...at least what the organizers considered preaching. From what I heard later, it sounded like they were just reading the Christmas story and something from Isaiah. It made me wonder if Charles Wesley, or his preaching brother John Wesley, would have been welcome at such an event. Probably not.

And as I'm writing these posts, which seem at first so much not about Advent and Christmas, I think more and more that that's exactly what they are. Charlotte Mason does not shy away from the big questions:

"Sin, temptation, repentance, throw us back upon something behind them all. Why is it wrong to do wrong? And, what is wrong?" (p. 121)

She calls our awareness of law and evil, and the feeling that we ought to do something about it--make a sacrifice, appease a god--a "restless uneasiness in the dark" (p. 122). Mason doesn't specifically refer to Yule logs, holly, greens and the rest of those Solstice/Saturnalia symbols, but they're not far from what she's describing. We want warmth, light, and protection. The difference today may be that, like an eradicated disease, we think the threat of "sin" lurking out there is gone, or the gods attached to it never existed, so we can just enjoy the band music and the hot chocolate. The only 'sin" now is telling people that they are sinful. "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" still squeaks in uncensored, maybe because it's sung at the end of It's a Wonderful Life, the Number One Christmas Movie. Can't tamper with Jimmy Stewart. (Did you know an earlier script of that movie ended with the Lord's Prayer?)

Charlotte Mason has a word of agreement for those who resent being "guilted" or judged. "Law, existing by itself and for itself, without any to will or desire, is a monstrous thought––a thought to chafe our spirits and take the heart out of all our strivings––because there is no comfort of love in it and no reasonable conviction" (p. 123). Even Christians get confused and disagree about what the Bible and their churches say about law and sin and grace. But think of Law, just for this moment, as a positive description of a universe where everything moves, sings, and even laughs in harmony. Kind of like the last scene of It's a Wonderful Life. Think of the one character, Mr. Potter, who's not there at George Bailey's house laughing and singing: he's the one who "set the law" on George, but he's also the one missing the "Higher Law" Christmas party.

Those who do acknowledge the Creator and also His Law, Charlotte Mason describes with an astronomical twist:

"As the planets revolve round the sun in obedience to their law, so he revolves in the orbit of his life, and his deepest joy is Duty. Not that he fulfils the law which is within his heart. Like the planet on which he lives, he is constantly pulling away from the law he owns [acknowledges, confesses]; but he is as continually recovered, so that he does indeed finish his course" (p. 123).

I think she might have been drawing her illustration from the Wordsworth poem she quotes at the end of the chapter. Read this, if you will, with the image of the Nativity and the words of Charles Wesley in your mind. "Glory to the newborn King."

          "Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear

          The Godhead's most benignant grace;
          Nor know we anything so fair
          As is the smile upon thy face:
          Flowers laugh before thee on their beds,
          And fragrance in thy footing treads;
          Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong,
          And the most ancient heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong."
~~ William Wordsworth, from "Ode to Duty"        

Christmas C.M. Countdown: Day 11

My husband has a book out from the library titled Unruly Places: Lost Spaces, Secret Cities, and Other Inscrutable Geographies. Charlotte Mason might say that is a good description of certain parts of our Personsoul.

"Like St Christopher, we have to fight our way against the floods, however quiet our lives may seem. Some little peevishness or petulance about a trifle, some slight resentment against a friend, some entanglement in our circumstances,––and it is as though, like the cuttlefish, we had darkened all the waters about us. Suddenly, without an instant's warning, we are in a flood of rage, resentment, crooked contrivings, perhaps unclean imaginings...We do not intend, will, or foresee these sudden falls; we become as persons possessed, and have no power in ourselves to struggle out of the flood of malice, pride, uncleanness, greed, envy, or whatever else of evil has overwhelmed us. The fact that we have not foreseen these falls, points to a cause outside ourselves––to those powers and principalities in high places, whose struggle for dominion over us the Bible reveals; and the revelation is confirmed by our own sad and familiar experience." (Ourselves, Book II, pp. 115-116)

Last weekend we were driving through a nearby town that was built on a flood-prone river. "The houses up on the hill are the ones to own," someone commented. "The ones down by the river...well, you take your chances." So does building our spiritual house on a hill keep us immune from floods and temptations? It probably can't hurt! But nothing is immune to attack, and in Chapter XVIII, "Temptation," Charlotte Mason acknowledges that there are forces outside of ourselves that search out our weak spots, and try to prevent us from keeping what she calls a "trusty spirit." 

If you want a silly illustration of opening ourselves up to wrong ideas in the first place, there's a Real Ghostbusters T.V. cartoon about a man being pushed into insanity by his terrible apartment over a 24-hour fried-chicken restaurant. All he can smell is chicken, all he hears is "regular or crispy skin?" Rather than getting soundproofing or moving to a better apartment, he borrows a book of spells, summons up a demon, and makes a wish that all the chickens in the world would disappear. This is actually a funny episode because the deal-with-a-demon cliché gets turned on its head. The demon is now the laughingstock of his friends (we can imagine Screwtape among them), and he hires the Ghostbusters to make the man take back his wish.

But watch closely to see how Charlotte Mason foretold Saturday morning cartoons and other sad stories:

"All our Lord's sayings come out of profound knowledge of the ways of the minds of men. He knew that an idea, an imagination, of envy or resentment, for example, once entertained, dallied with, takes possession of the mind; we cannot get rid of it, and we are hurried into action or speech upon that notion before ever we are aware. Here we have the line between temptation, and sin." (pp. 117-118)

Being unhappy about chickens is one thing.  Turning thought into action is another. As part of our self-defense kit, Mason offers her version of the Beatitudes:

"Blessed are the souls that endure temptation from without; who endure grinding poverty without hardness or greed, uncongenial tempers without bitterness, contrary circumstances without petulance; who possess their souls in patience when all things are against them: these are temptations from which we cannot escape, and which are part of the education of a trusty spirit." (p. 118)

The word "trusty" is interesting, because it has become associated mainly with animals devoted to their masters: a trusty steed, his trusty hound, and so on. But allowing it the original meaning of trust-ing and trustworthy: that gives us a sense both of the One we trust and of our role in becoming, being trusty.

Perhaps what we need is what that library book calls "Secret Cities": fortresses on a hill, places of refuge and rest where we can "possess our souls in patience." And when we find those safe places, we know we are not alone.

"Let this amazing picture of the dealings of our God be with us always to light up the dark places in our own lives." (p. 120)

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 10

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high
And order all things, far and nigh
To us the path of knowledge show
And cause us in her ways to go

Refrain:
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel

We move on to Ourselves Book II, Section III: "The Function of Conscience." We've talked about how to feed and fortify the Conscience-judge: now we look at what it does and how it works.

A popular phrase these days is "let's start the conversation." This is exactly the way we need to interact with our Conscience, because it's unfortunately very easy to make it stop talking. Charlotte Mason points to three causes of muffled Consciences: Ignorance, Allowance, and Prejudice.

People may not do right, but they have a sense of right and wrong. It's a bit like responding instinctively to music or art, but being limited by having no training or education in those things.  "The due instruction of this power we must get for ourselves." Ignorance is like, maybe, needing glasses to see more clearly what you didn't know you were missing. Allowance is doing a Sergeant Schultz, "I see No-thing"; or, to use the glasses analogy, keeping them just dirty enough so that you can truly say you didn't see. (As recent court events have shown, the dirty-glasses excuse seems less likely these days to be accepted.)

Prejudice, in this case, is about losing proportion because of "besetting ideas." It may be the easiest to understand, because if we imagine Conscience with human weaknesses, all we have to do is distract it, and that's very easy (don't think about a cow). It's like giving Conscience glasses that are slightly or badly out of focus, or, in the worst cases, joke-store glasses that show things skewed or upside-down.

"We do not seek to justify hard things said or done by a good [person]; we perceive that on that point the good [person's] conscience has not been informed..." (p. 110).  Seeing that someone acted out of ignorance or prejudice does not excuse them from wrong action; but it does help us to remember that no human wisdom or conscience is foolproof. This applies to groups, too: a collective or movement that seemed well-founded may lose ground or make a bad decision because of ignorance, allowance, or a "besetting idea."  Understanding this should not make us judgmental of others, but more able to extend grace when good people fail horribly.

But it also helps us to recognize ourselves as among those dwelling in darkness, vulnerable, short-sighted, in need of that Wisdom From On High. It means we need to go cautiously and with discernment, valuing clarity. It means that we need to keep seeking the Truth.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 9

"The object of this little book is to introduce to themselves any who are not yet acquainted with their own worth..." (p. 108)

Among the Instructors of Conscience listed in Ourselves Book II are Sociology and Self-Knowledge (chapter XVI). Sociology, Charlotte Mason says, is "how other people live." And, she says (in a way that is eerily like our own time), we see needs, we have generous hearts, we want to help and it's Christmas. So we hand out coins and put toys in the toy drive...but then we are frustrated with these quick band-aids, this "promiscuous charity," and we go the other way, so much afraid of helping-that-is-hurting that we hold back from anything more than, maybe, a donation to the Kidney Fund.

"[How shall we] find the particular piece of brotherly work appointed for us to do?" (p. 105)

Mason's solution is perceptive and simple: we must "lay ourselves out for instruction," and then act on "that principle of love which alone gives us a right to do service to others": finding out what people want before we impose our "help." She calls for acts of love that are both discriminating and considerate, that understand "the greatness of the poorest human soul." Often, she says, the best opportunities are right outside our doors.

And what about our own issues? "To know ourselves is wisdom," Mason says (p. 106). Like the problem of outreach,  bad experiences or misplaced humility can keep us  from desiring self-awareness. But if we don't know the wealth we have, it's the same as not having it (have you ever read A Girl of the Limberlost?).

"...the Son of Man came to show us all that we may be when we do not reject the indwelling of our God." (p. 107)

Imagine something like Harvest Community School in South Carolina (to name just one place), where children of all ages and backgrounds are included, where they learn to love the natural world around them, where they share books and music and celebrations. To understand your place in such a school would mean seeing yourself in relationship to all that's around you, and then asking yourself what you could do to make that place and that community even better.

So what self-knowledge is the right sort? Celebration of our inheritance! Our Personsoul lands and woods and streams! The fact that we're made in God's image, to be His children, and that we share something of His nature not only with Him but with other humans! (Now we're back to Sociology! Well, we do not live in a vacuum.)

Mason ends her section on the Instruction of Conscience with a note of encouragement. The Conscience does not exist in a lab or a classroom, to be constantly prodded, analyzed, and tested for optimum functioning.  Decide to know, she says, and then go live. It's that simple.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 8

Is learning an act of self-interest, a means of merely "improving ourselves?" Charlotte Mason says that what we're really looking for are "tools for the modeling of our lives," such as reverence, gentleness, and a sense of connection with the past (p. 71). These tools are going to increase not our self-interest, but the ability to look beyond ourselves. 

Where does she suggest we start? Here's a list:

1. Poetry, preferably spending time with one poet
2. Shakespeare's plays, which "unconsciously mould our judgments of men and things and the great issues of life" (p. 72)
3. Novels, of the sort with characters who "become our mentors or our warnings, our instructors always" (p. 72)
4. Ever-delightful essayists
5. History, including ancient history
6. Philosophy, to allow reason to work upon knowledge
7. Theology, including the Bible (Mason has quite a lot to say about that)
8. The things of nature
9. Science, so that "we no longer conduct ourselves in this world of wonders like a gaping rustic at a fair" (p. 101)
10. Art, approached "with the modest intention to pay a debt that we owe in learning to appreciate" (p. 103)
11. Sociology and self-knowledge, which will get the next blog post to themselves

Mason says our aim is not to become know-it-alls, but to gain a sense of the ought in all this, why we owe it to the world to become people who practice empathy and model compassion, who observe carefully and think clearly, "with gentle, large, and humble thoughts." As the bumper sticker used to say, "Be alert. The world needs more lerts."

And the ultimate result is not graduation, but gratitude (p. 100). Wait, say that again! The end of education is gratitude?? Yes, to the One who created "the beauty, glory, and fitness above our heads and about our feet and surrounding us on every side!"

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 7

Let's move into Ourselves Book II, Section II: Conscience in the House of Mind. We're up to Chapter IX, if you're keeping track. This is where Charlotte Mason explores the Book II version of "Free thought is a loose cannon...beware."

Not that she wants us to be dumb sheep, unable to think for ourselves. Actually it's the opposite: she's cautioning us against what we'd now call (mis)information overload, and against little seeds of ideas, chance opinions "in the air" that we can't shake off.  "I hate that political figure." "Why?" "He's bad. He hates women." "How do you know?" "Everybody knows that." Financial and real estate updates are particularly bad for delivering no real news at all: the market drops sharply, then comes back a bit, and the headlines shout about the "increase."

But if our own Reason can't be fully trusted to discern truth, then what other defense do we have? Only a sort of "long obedience in the same direction," an ongoing search for wisdom that the writer of Proverbs also stressed. "We must labour to get knowledge as the foundation of opinions," and "we must also labour to arrive at principles whereby to try [test] our opinions" (p. 59). If an uninstructed Conscience is "open to every prompting of inclination" (p. 61), then the opposite is true: an educated Conscience is solid, dependable. It is more aware of history, able to see patterns and parallels, because (it is also true) there is nothing new under the sun.

Mason says that the uninstructed conscience is "continually straining out the gnat and swallowing the camel" (p. 60), which sounds like a pretty good description of our culture's obsession with trivia, and of our inclination to accept whatever slant our favourite news feeds take on an issue. She suggests that we broaden our sources of information (p. 65). If we read only the news sources that agree with the opinions we have accepted, we miss "the side-lights of other writings, or the illumination cast by history and literature." If we hear only quick news digests, we won't get enough detail to form a fair opinion.

The strange thing about situations where stray opinions go viral, as we'd say now, is that they often lead to suppression of free thought and speech. Mason says that "the uninstructed conscience leaves its possessor open to bigotry, fanaticism, panic, envy, spite" (p. 67). I like her use of the word "panic" there. It reminds me of a local news source that over-uses the word "scramble" to amplify almost any story, making life sound like an ongoing game of candy toss. People are scrambling to get flu shots. Canada Post workers are scrambling to deliver the backlog of parcels. Christmas shoppers are (always) scrambling for one thing or another. If you can inject a bit of panic into the situation, it becomes more important, because we don't want to be the losers in the scramble!

And the opposite choice of words? Calmness. Slowness. Careful examination and study. The humility to know when we may be wrong, when the evidence shows it's time for a paradigm shift. But, also, the trust in tested principles, and in the One who laid them out for us.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 6

Did you ever hear that really old anecdote about the boy (sometimes it's a husband) calling downstairs to his mother (or his wife) to ask if he should put a shirt in the wash or wear it again? She, reportedly, calls back that no, he should not wear it. When he asks how she knew without looking, she says, "If it's doubtful, it's dirty." We may not agree with her laundry methods, but her caution makes a good point.

Chastity, Fortitude, and Prudence: what do they have in common, besides sounding like old ladies shaking fingers at us? They are principles that are supposed to keep a rein on temptations, and keep us out of trouble. Having an under-supply of them should send up red flags to a conscious Conscience, even before real trouble starts. When it comes to House of Body activity, like eating and drinking, relationships, shopping for stuff, even handling hard times courageously (that's Fortitude), it seems that we need to put our heads ahead of our hearts.  If we let our ears be tickled by suggestions, and don't consider consequences, we've already invited trouble. (This is why every minimalist end-of-year-decluttering list suggests unsubscribing from online advertising.)

Note that this does not mean we are never to take risks or try new things, or even to put ourselves in danger for someone else's good. What we're talking about here are matters that should be brought to the Conscience; and if we're going to violate House of Body principles like Chastity and Prudence, we'd better have better than a good reason (because Reason can always come up with a reason). There are times when other principles do come ahead of things like Prudence. The woman who anointed Jesus with perfume was imprudent; but He called it a beautiful act. O. Henry's young marrieds throw caution to the Christmas winds to buy each other their hearts' desires. Wendell Berry's Jayber Crow carouses with the men of his adopted village because it's the only way to become one with them. Townsfolk of a more respectable leaning think that he's a reprobate and not worth their notice. Obviously Conscience can be a very individual matter.

Still, it seems that these are exceptions, and we err more often by ignoring the doubtful-dirty rule.There may even be situations where we have to be more chaste, more prudent, or show more fortitude than others. I know someone whose child has nut allergies, and their family can't shop from bulk bins because of cross-contamination. Most of what's there would probably be fine, but they don't want to risk it.

How do we deal with a chronic shortage of House of Body principles?  It may be as simple as saying to yourself, "No, I'm not going there" when you feel tempted to want or even look at what you don't have (and not just materially). But, says Charlotte Mason, don't forget to fill the Library of Conscience with images of those who did and didn't live out those values. Here's an example she uses in Ourselves Book II, Chapter VI, about a young woman being led astray:

"'How strange it is,' she thought that evening, 'that I should feel as if this charming afternoon's walk were somehow, not exactly wrong, but yet as if it were not right!'" (Ruth, by Mrs. Gaskell)

Had Ruth been doing something sinful? No, just walking home from church with someone she thought was kind and attentive. It seems, though, that this man was carefully manipulating their meetings, amusing himself at her expense. But since she was young and innocent, how could she be expected to resist a little gentlemanly attention? According to Mrs. Gaskell, Ruth did know that something was off. She just didn't trust the little voice that said "No." And trouble, of course, followed. (I think Ruth is a human version of Jemima Puddleduck.)

Fortitude seems to stand a little apart here from Prudence, Chastity, and their close friend Temperance. What are the little attacks we need to look out for in that area? First and most obviously, the thought in our minds that it's too much, we're tired, it's time to give up. But second, a hint that maybe we are entitled to a bit of attitude and self-pity, and extra sympathy from others. Note that promoting Fortitude is not ignoring the question of why evil and suffering exist, and why some people are given incredible burdens; and it's also not (usually) a good place for others to interfere, either to scold or to enable negative behaviour. But if we let our own Conscience search for bitterness and sulking, we may be surprised at what turns up. The point is not adding to anyone's burdens by creating guilt; it's about lightening them by losing energy-draining attitudes and excuses.

Exercising Prudence, or Chastity, or Fortitude, gives us opportunities to build up character muscle by saying "No." No, I don't need to mentally re-visit that relationship, or wish for what didn't happen. No, I don't need to spend that money on myself that's planned for saving. But we also receive a gift of "Yes." Yes, I can say thank you for what I have. Yes, I can boost someone else's spirits today, because I understand what it's like to be sick or lonely. And yes, I can do this hard thing for the ones I love, and for the One I love most of all.

Christmas C.M. Countdown, Day 5

"...do we recognize that the proportion of Love must be preserved as duly as the proportions of Faith?" (Ourselves, Book II, p. 21) 

An instructed Conscience-judge is not tolerant of court employees who take time off for personal distractions. Anyone caught humming "I Just Want to Be Your Everything" will be severely scolded, and that includes friends to friends, princes to courtiers, even parents to children. Why?

"Over-fond and exclusive" relationships, besides being unhealthy, "shut out other claims of duty and affection" (p. 21). They can even be dangerous. Being exclusive is good in certain matters, Mason admits, such as in being faithful to one's spouse.  Deep loyalty to friends is admirable. But to be obsessed with any person, and needing to control their actions as proof of mutual love, is "unchaste."

In Chapter IV, Mason gives a literary example of friendship-done-to-excess, from Marlowe's play Edward II. Here's a slightly more recent example: the shapeshifting character Odo, employed as the space station security chief on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Odo is a loner; he seems to be part of no recognizable species. He is excited when  he finds that there are others of his kind, that he is, in fact, part of a "Great Link," a melding of all such beings. This, in itself, is fine; it means that Odo has a "family"; it could even be taken as a metaphor for the Body of Christ. But this newfound connection causes conflict. Vulcans can perform mind-melds, but this species can body-meld or "link" with each other; and in Odo's case, his fascination with linking causes him to ignore relationships, his job, and time itself. Odo eventually regains his sense of proportion, but these events cause others to question his loyalties; and (SPOILER) his initiation into linking eventually threatens the existence of his species (think virus).

(Now here comes the real spoiler. If you've never seen the ending of Deep Space Nine, and still plan to, don't read this.) During the series, Odo also finds true love with the space station's second-in-command, Major Kira. Although their relationship has a lot of bumps, they both discover something about love: they cherish, but don't need to possess each other. In the last moments of the final episode, Odo makes the decision to sacrifice his happiness with Kira to save his species (although they caused a war and don't seem to deserve his help) by fully entering the Link, possibly forever. (It looks like he's swimming out into a lake.) She understands and accepts his choice. That is love.

"Let Christ himself be your example as to what your attitude should be. For he, who had always been God by nature, did not cling to his prerogatives as God’s equal, but stripped himself of all privilege by consenting to be a slave by nature and being born as mortal man. And, having become man, he humbled himself by living a life of utter obedience, even to the extent of dying, and the death he died was the death of a common criminal. That is why God has now lifted him so high, and has given him the name beyond all names, so that at the name of Jesus “every knee shall bow”, whether in Heaven or earth or under the earth. And that is why, in the end, “every tongue shall confess” that Jesus Christ” is the Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Philippians 2:5-11, J.B. Phillips New Testament