The Holy Trinity

Listen up, heathen, it's Trinity Sunday and time to reflect on the inner life of God, revealed as three persons in one divine nature. Three persons fully God yet not three Gods but one God.

Tricky, isn't it, and I'm reminded of a conversation I had with an old monk, back in the mists of time. "Tell me, Father (he was a priest religious), how do we understand the Trinity?" I was hoping for wisdom from this elder, you see, and he replied, "Well, it's like a shamrock!"

The problem, of course, is that the Trinity isn't much like a shamrock or three pieces of one awesome pizza; each leaf or slice is fully the thing itself. How?

Perhaps Aquinas helps, following Aristotle through the lens of St. John. God, from all eternity thinks, He generates or begets an idea of Himself, a perfect concept of who He is, which is everything that He is, including existence and self-consciousness. 

This thought is expressly uttered as His Word, identical in being with the Father but distinct in relationship to Him. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God, says St. John. Here's Aquinas:

Whenever anyone understands because of his very act of understanding, something comes forth within him, which is the concept of the known thing proceeding from his awareness of it. It is this concept which an utterance signifies; we call it 'the word in the heart' signified by the spoken word. (1a.27.1)

So the Father and the Son, or Word, are one in being but persons by virtue of their relationship one to the other. And the Father looks at the Son and loves Him because He is everything that is lovable. So too does the Son love the Father. Both pour out their being, perfectly, to each other in love.

Such love, being all that the Father and the Son are, must itself be a person, the Holy Spirit. Again, identical in being with the other persons of the Trinity but distinct in terms of relationship; the Spirit proceeds. And He pours Himself back to the Father and the Son in love.

Step back from this for a moment and see that the Father, the Son and the Spirit are a community or communion of persons in love. As Augustine teaches, Lover, Beloved and Loving. God, per St. John and in no other religion, is love.

How very beautiful, LSP, you say with that faint curl of the lip as you sip the next fizzing glass of Clicquot. Not so fast, boulevardier, consider the reverse. As opposed to God is love, think of the reality behind the universe as simply its material, stars, planets, electrons, atoms, particles, gasses, forces and on. 

This, we're told, liberates us from oppressive Christianity. Really? Being in the hand of vast, implacable, natural force is freeing?

Go ahead and think that, but since when did gravity write your family a condolence letter when you fell off the pier fishing for Gar? Since when did an electron apologize for making you feel bad and then try to do something about it?

That way lies despair and the Trinity frees us from this. In the Triune God we  see love at the foundation of all that is, and therein lies fulfillment, meaning and purpose, the telos or end of our soul's desire.

May we grow into the glory,

LSP

The Mighty Power Of Gar

It was a typical day in LSPland, searing heat, a couple of rods and a near empty pier below Lake Whitney dam; I like that, no pressure. And there were lots of fish, Black Drum, shoals of Carp, one or two Bass, the odd predatory Perch and squadrons of Gar.

Don't waste time, get down to business and cast off. That meant one rod rigged with Shad and a sinker, a catfish rig, with a view to getting at the large bottom feeders. Off it spun into the depths. Rod #2 was opportunistic, weighted with two split shots and baited with a worm, for casting.

#2 struck first. Tug, pull, strike. Up came a respectable Drum, full of fight, good result. Then things slowed down, with the occasional Drum and not much else.

I was on the point of calling it a day, 5 Drum and 2 Perch down, when rod #1 started to play out. A Gar was on, you could see it, with a silvery Shad stuck between its teeth. At this point you're tempted to pull up hard for quick hookset. Error. The Gar will drop your hook like a poster of Seth Rich at a DNC convention.

No, don't do that. Instead, let the Gar go with the bait, open your bale, lighten the drag, do not give the suspicious, wary Gar any reason to drop the bait and your hook; let him run. He'll do that and stop, let him run again and then, after about five minutes or so of letting the line and the fish out, tighten up and set the hook.

BOOM. The Gar will thrash, dive, run and leap, heading downstream like a furious torpedo. Play him out, you've got a fight on your hands, and bring him in.

That happened twice today and it made Bass fishing, which is awesome, seem tame. For sure, it demands patience, lots of it, but when you connect with these formidable fish it's a whole different ball game. Big fun, I tell you.

Some people eat Gar, I don't. My two leviathans went back to fight again another day.

Fish on,

LSP

Pier Pressure

The pier was deserted, no pressure. And yes, this is Texas, not Aberystwyth.

Right away the fish were biting, small catfish and perch. Pretty much every cast a catch.

I lost count as the sun set over the glassy waters of the lake.

Two older gentlemen turned up and I gave them a small perch for bait. They were going after catfish.

And pulled out a MONSTER.

Good work, team.

Fish on,

LSP

Fishing Isn't God But I Still Love It

"Man," reminds Archbishop Fulton Sheen, "is engaged in a threefold quest for life, truth and love." Would I find that after Evening Prayer, fishing? Only imperfectly. Fishing, you see, isn't God.

Still, I won't deny that the sport's up there, especially when the watery beasts are switched on, for real and love what you're throwing in the water, which is pretty much the way it was yesterday evening.

The pier was empty, no pressure, and the spillway pool beckoned with submarine life. You could see it gliding about the water in search of prey. Big Gar, Catfish, a few Bass and a lot of Drum, some large; time to cast off.

Out went line #1 into the middle of the pool and stayed there, a stationary rod, then out went line #2 for casting. And sure enough, the fish wern't only live but loving the bait, with both rods popping. And that meant a bit of running around. 

There you are, reeling in a fish when the other rod starts jumping, bends double and off you go. Quick, sort that fish out and get on the other rod!

Big fun, I tell you, and while it's not God it does  make for a better evening than staring in slack-jawed consternation at some computer screen.

So get out and fish. Shoot and ride too, but those would be different stories.

God bless,

LSP 

The Coup Unravels, Sympathy For The Devil? Don't Say Hillary

So what's going on in the world of the slow motion coup against the duly elected President of the United States?

We've seen that the FBI was spying on the Trump campaign in the form of Stefan Halper and possibly others. And we know the DNC/Clinton campaign paid a former British MI6 spy to compile a salacious and unverified dossier on Trump, which was picked up by the FBI and then used to secure FISA warrants against the Trump campaign.

This was signed off on by then CIA Director and alleged Muslim, John Brennan, in the form of an Intelligence Community Assessment, which was used to fuel a special investigation into Trump's supposed collusion with the Kremlin.

Brennan

Collusion, let all two of you readers understand, for which there is not a shred of evidence, after nearly two years of investigation and some $20 million spent. 

Perhaps you remember Trump's assertion that he was being wiretapped during his campaign and how this was written off as laughable by the lying, corrupt, venal, elite, mendacious, aggressive mainstream media. Ridiculous, right? No, not so ridiculous.

Halper

For that matter, you may recall that the Russian Collusion story began in the wake of Hillary's emails being made public by Wikileaks, and that the DNC wouldn't let the FBI examine the servers in question.

No wonder, a forensic investigation of the servers might have revealed that their unbreakable password was "password" and that  someone downloaded the information on a memory stick. Who knows, maybe that person was Seth Rich.

Seth Rich

Regardless, what we've known all along is now transparent, the intelligence services were weaponized by the Dems against their political opponents.

Unfortunately for the Operation Crossfire Hurricane coup conspirators this is illegal and with every passing day their malfeasance is being brought into the light. Heads, we hope, will roll.

Comey

So has the hunter become the hunted, as hubris catches up with arrogance in unholy matrimony? Perhaps, and while we're at it, all four of you, how does this augur for our Constitutional Republic? 

Crossfire Hurricane? I'd argue Sympathy for the Devil. Don't say Hillary.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Welby's Fish Rig

Reactions to the recent Royal Wedding have been mixed. Here at the Compound we liked the pomp and pageantry, questioned Michael Curry's role as comedy minstrel revival preacher and came to a juddering stop at the sight of Welby's vestments.

Back of the Fish Rig

Archbishop Justin Welby tipped up at the wedding in his famous Fish Rig, a golden cope and mitre emblazoned with pastel green fish appliques. One of the very few people who read this mind blog was moved to comment:

Welby in Full Rig

I watched a bit of the goings on and was struck by the fact that Welby's vestments seemed to have been designed by an aged, new-age, lesbian hippie in between her bouts of polishing crystals and smoking weed; all of which was to be expected from His Alien-ness.

Does that sound harsh? Here's a close up of Welby's Rig, to help you decide.

Back of the Rig

What's best about Justsin's Fish Rig? The pale green fish appliques, commonly known as the "Anglican Dolphins'? The how very nautical silver ropes surrounding the fish or the firelike fronds of aquatic weed within which the three dolphins chase each other? 

You be the judge,

LSP

Power

Via Zerohedge:

Power only exists where it exists because of the stories that humans agree to tell one another. The idea that government operates a certain way, that money operates a certain way, these things are purely conceptual constructs that are only as true as people pretend they are.

Everyone could agree tomorrow that Donald Glover is the undisputed King of America and the new official US currency is old America Online trial CDs if they wanted to, and since that was the new dominant narrative it would be the reality.

Everyone could also agree to create a new system which benefits all of humanity instead of a few sociopathic plutocrats. The only thing keeping money and government moving in a way that benefits our current rulers is the fact that those rulers have been successful in controlling the narrative.

 They’ll never get that cat back into the bag once it’s out, and they know it.

You can read the whole thing here. 

LSP

Presiding Bishop Michael Curry's Awesome Sermon

PB Michael Curry got up and preached at the Royal Wedding, even though the Episcopal Church is banned from representing Anglicanism at important events. Still, the remarkable Curry wowed audiences with his down-home southern revival, big tent delivery.

Dancing Fool

How affirming and diverse. I mean to say, we don't just employ these people to mow lawns at the country club, we make them bishops! How very Sewanee seersucker civil rights.

Don't Say Fraud

As you reflect upon Curry's remarkable accent along with his Yale and Princeton education, read this, by Gavin Ashenden.

Don't say What. A. Fraud.

LSP

Pentecost

The beginning of Christendom is, strictly, at a point out of time. A metaphysical trigonometry finds it among the spiritual Secrets, at the meeting of two heavenward lines, one drawn from Bethany along the Ascent of Messias, the other from Jerusalem against the Descent of the Paraclete. That measurement, the measurement of eternity in operation, of the bright cloud and the rushing wind, is, in effect, theology. (Charles Williams, Descent of the Dove)

Today's the Feast of Pentecost and we celebrate the descent of the Spirit upon the disciples, who fills them with the fire of divine love. You might like this powerful wisdom from St. Basil the Great:

And He, like the sun, will by the aid of thy purified eye show thee in Himself the image of the invisible, and in the blessed spectacle of the image thou shalt behold the unspeakable beauty of the archetype. 

Through His aid hearts are lifted up, the weak are held by the hand, and they who are advancing are brought to perfection. Shining upon those that are cleansed from every spot, He makes them spiritual by fellowship with Himself. Just as when a sunbeam falls on bright and transparent bodies, they themselves become brilliant too, and shed forth a fresh brightness from themselves, so souls wherein the Spirit dwells, illuminated by the Spirit, themselves become spiritual, and send forth their grace to others.

Hence comes foreknowledge of the future, understanding of mysteries, apprehension of what is hidden, distribution of good gifts, the heavenly citizenship, a place in the chorus of angels, joy without end, abiding in God, the being made like to God, and, highest of all, the being made God [that is, sharers in the divine nature]. Such, then, to instance a few out of many, are the conceptions concerning the Holy Spirit, which we have been taught to hold concerning His greatness, His dignity, and His operations, by the oracles of the Spirit themselves.

Veni Sancte Spiritus,

LSP 

Behold The Great Leviathan

We went in search of Bass. Well not really, we went in search of any fish that'd get on the hook like a Trumptrain express on full loco or like anything at all, we're not fussy. And, to be sure, I wanted my kid to catch.

He did, pulling out Black Drum like a good 'un. We raced for a while, which was fun, but then lost count and finished, I think, pretty much even. I brought up the last fish, a mighty Leviathan Drum and I tell you, it put up a fight.

But here's a thought which makes me want to refigure the calculus. Another fisherman tipped up on the spillway pier and caught a good sized Catfish, a Gar and a decent Drum, all on a circle hook baited with live shad and weighted below the leader, a catfish rig. 

Now, we outfished him with barely weighted small hooks and worms but, and it's a big but, he caught fewer but larger fish, we just caught Drum. What does this mean?

Firstly, larger fish are going after live shad right now, so match the hatch. Secondly, larger fish will go after larger bait, it appeals to them. Translate all of the above into action and add a rod to the mix, baited for bigger fish, and cast off with the worm rigs for opportunistic fun.

That way you should catch more fish. A focused setup for the monsters and a catch-all for everything else.

Next stop? Go after Stripers, Drum are great but we need a change.

God bless you all,

LSP

The Mullallyfication of the Church of England

Take a break from wondering if former CIA boss, John Brennan, and the rest of the coup conspirators will finally be brought to justice. Put that interesting question to one side for a moment and ask yourself this. What qualifies Sarah Mullally to be the Bishop of London?

Jules Gomes answers the question. Here's a snapshot:

So what are Mother Mullally’s towering achievements and phenomenal gifts that qualify her to be appointed to the third most important bishopric in England? Mullally’s crowning glory is that she is a feminist and so ‘necessarily subversive’ as she portrays herself in her debut sermon.

Feminism is subversive? Is the new Bishop of London so out of touch with cultural criticism that she doesn’t even know that feminism has been part of the dominant orthodoxy for ages? Feminism in the West is as subversive as environmentalists hugging trees and snowflakes cuddling teddy bears.

Gomes goes on.

So what are the other impressive credentials on Mullally’s Curriculum Vitae that dazzled her selection panel? Mullally unwittingly answers: ‘There aren’t many bishops who come from comprehensive schools, who are poly [polytechnic] girls and who did [part-time training] for the priesthood.’ 

‘It’s not just gender; it’s also your background that’s equally important,’ she adds. Translated from Anglican virtue-signalling gobbledygook into English, Mullally was chosen to be Bishop of London because she’s a woman who went to a comp school and polytechnic and trained at Saint Mickey Mouse Seminary.

The Rebel Priest then lists the seven pillars of Mullallyfication.

Read the whole thing here.

Cheers,

LSP

Get On The Fish

Rather than reflect on the Church of England's devolution into mawkish irrelevancy masquerading as radical counterculturalism, I went fishing. 

It seemed better to get by the water after Mass and tangle with the ancient adversary than contemplate the Mullallyfication of the CofE.

Once again, the adventure started off with an empty pier, no pressure, and out went the lines with their tried and true #6 baitholder hooks and juicy worms, barely weighted with a split shot sinker resting around 12" from the hook.

Now, experts say the bigger the hook, the bigger the fish and I'm sure that's true but small hooks are notoriously capable of catching large fish as well as their smaller allies. You see, the smaller fish can't fit an enormous great hook in their mouth; they attempt it, greedily, then drop it in frustrated contempt.

Regardless, this hook logic works well if you're fishing indiscriminately from the bank and your emphasis is on catching fish, any fish. If you're singularly after trophy Bass or the awesome Striper or whatever, you tailor your rig to meet the need.

In my case, it's mostly just about catching fish and the above method worked well this evening, with no end of good sized Black Drum and a couple of fat Bluegills coming up for good measure. Pretty much every cast a fish, great result.

Fish on,

LSP