Beauty in Low Places

 “Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far?”(2 Samuel 7:18) This is the question David asks God upon hearing the promise, the Covenant, God has made to raise up his seed and establish his kingdom and throne forever. And this is the question I have asked myself when contemplating the connection that I have felt with him, a figure about whom I know very little. I am not unique in this regard, King David has held sway in the psyches of many, across cultures and years. I feel the answer lies somewhere a bit beyond the more obvious candidates: David’s humble beginnings, David as the faithful servant, David as the underdog against Goliath. Samuel Anoints David, 3rd century, unknown artist To begin to try to find the answer to this question, I turned to 1 and 2 Samuel; the Old Testament provides an intimate view to David, his life, and his character. We first meet David mid-way through 1 Samuel, the first half of which describes the transition of power...

It is again that time of year when the elves are busy at their workbenches making crafts and toys, the grinchiest of hearts grow a few sizes, and Old$ is talking about the occult meaning of The Nutcracker (I’ll get it one day). So I thought it an appropriate time to revisit a book that he put under my nose a few years ago, Brent Landau’s English translation of Revelation of the Magi. The Three Magi Photo by Nina Aldin Thune Revelation of the Magi is an apocryphal New Testament text written from the perspective of the wise men spoken of briefly (twelve verses in total) in the Gospel of Matthew. Their account covers new territory, providing us with background as to who they are and from where they come, describing the fulfillment of their order’s prophecy of the visitation by a star, and telling of their ensuing journey to Bethlehem. Despite its importance, the text dwells still in relative obscurity, remaining unknown even to many Bible scholars. There is only one existing copy of the ...

Truth can sometimes be found in the most unlikely of places, in a children’s film, a comic book, a video game. The Dark Crystal is the 1982 Jim Henson film that introduces us to the world of Thra, its inhabitants, the native Gelfling, and its usurpers, the Skeksis. It is achingly beautiful and chillingly familiar. Not really a children’s film or maybe what children’s films used to be, unsanitized stories that had messages and told the truth about about life, even the darker parts. The story goes that the idea for the Dark Crystal came to Jim Henson when looking at an illustration made by Leonard Lubin for Lewis Carroll’s “The Pig-Tale”, depicting two “fancy crocodiles”, one bathing and one toweling off in a Victorian bathroom. Crocodiles. A few years later, Henson met Brian Froud and the two decided to partner to bring the world of the Dark Crystal to life, with Wendy Midener (Froud) joining as creature design supervisor for the Gelfling. The Frouds, Brian and Wendy, of course are fame...

When I was in my early to mid-twenties there was a period of time during which, unable to sleep, I would get up and drive to work in the very early hours of the morning. At the time I called it insomnia, but I also distinctly remember feeling excitement throughout the night, almost as a child on Christmas Eve might. Whatever the cause, the effect was that some days I would arrive at work as early as six in the morning. Alone, in solitude, the lights of the lab thermocyclers my companions. Maybe this is what I liked. Many days I would get there even earlier than Dmitry, the endearingly gruff and taciturn PhD who when once asked what kind of shampoo he used said "a bar of soap". Even Dmitry one morning asked me why I got there so early, and, surprised that he had spoken and unable to articulate why in fact I was there so early, I gave a short nonsensical response. The drive to work those mornings, in my then-new gray 2010 Mazda3, in the dark, was accomplished to the sounds of w...

It was probably 2019, New York City, I was in a bar drinking a gin and seltzer, alone, as I often did then. A few feet from the precipice of a chasm, but I did not know it yet. Or maybe I did. When "Higher Love", sung by Steve Winwood and Chaka Khan, came on the bluetooth speaker. It was not the first time I had heard it, but it was the first time in a long time, and the feeling was one I hadn't felt in a long time. Like a stream of fresh clear air on the radio waves, piercing the heavy stale haze of the bar. It was a reminder of the existence of something pure and true, beyond what my world had become, an ideal captured. In the coming years, as things got worse, and then better, it would continue to serve as a reminder of the world above. A buoy in the rough sea. But how was this song conceived of, what was Winwood channeling? What is Love, and will he fly as soon as we try to pin him down? The dialogue that is perhaps of most relevance to this question is Plato's S...

Plato, in the Phaedo, informs us that we live in hollows on the face of the earth, filled with water, mist, and the lower air. This is in contradiction to the commonly-held belief that we live, of course, on its surface. Plato (through his vehicle of Socrates who, however, most say was likely a real person) further reveals that our experienced earth is only the sediment of the true earth gathered, and that this true earth is a more fair and pure place. Indeed, he says we are like creatures at the bottom of the sea, fancying that we are on the surface of the water, but too feeble and sluggish to lift our heads and behold the true upper world. I not only agree but find this revelation a perhaps strange comfort. For I am in decrepit decaying basements, underground tunnels, watery underworlds, in my dreams. And little wonder, when the scenes all around us are of war, violence, destruction, general depravity. At least for me, these are only stories in the news, not lived experiences. Living...