厚德載物的意思 Source: https://kknews.cc/culture/lz4245g.htmlQuote 2 from 2017-03-25 由 九思散人 發表于文化In short: 厚德載物的意思就是，修行自己的品德，讓德行深厚，才能承載更多的外物（福）。這句話反過來說就是，人如果安於現狀，不思進取，就會越混越差直至完蛋（息）；人如果不修德行、道德敗壞，就會承擔不起外物（福），甚至惹禍招殃，就如《道德經》里說的，「金玉滿堂，莫之能守。富貴而驕，自遺其咎」。Detail:
Quote from 2017-03-25 由 九思散人 發表于文化: 《易經》被稱為眾經之首，大道之源。其中《周易》乾卦「天行健，君子以自強不息」，坤卦「地勢坤，君子以厚德載物」兩句影響最為廣泛，清華大學即以「自強不息，厚德載物」作為校訓，更有許多人將「天行健，君子以自強不息；地勢坤，君子以厚德載物」奉為座右銘。
So I learn from David Brook’s column “America: The Redeemer Nation” on Nov. 23, 2017 on https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/23/opinion/america-the-redeemer-nation.html?smid=tw-nytopinion&smtyp=cur
Also listen to one of my favorite popular voices in Mandarin on Youtube.com here 李美熹 – 飄洋過海來看你 (“Cross the Ocean to See You.”
Quote: “The final prayer [of Abraham Lincoln] heralds a new beginning: “With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds…to achieve lasting peace among all nations.”
In his speech, Lincoln realistically acknowledges the divisions and disappointments that plague the nation. But he does not accept the inevitability of a house divided. He combines Christian redemption with the multiculturalist’s love of diversity. In one brilliant stroke, Lincoln deprives Christian politics of the chauvinism and white identitarianism that we see now on the evangelical right. He fills the vacuum of moral vision that we see now on the relativist left. He shows how American particularism always points to universalism — how the specific features of our settler’s history and culture point to vision of communion for all mankind. This is a story we can join and live into.” Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/23/opinion/america-the-redeemer-nation.html?smid=tw-nytopinion&smtyp=cur
Click on the following web link or on the image to listen to my favorite song.
Also, my meditating music while practicing tennis groundstrokes: 羋月傳 配樂 – 楚國情歌 排蕭演奏 (完整版)
Lyrics (主題曲《滿月》of TV series titled 《羋月傳》):
平生留戀 獨步炎涼 幸有天留一點溫情可想
才能面向 黃沙千丈 湧我心海不可量
世間哀愁 無止無休 離散訣別我來一一從頭
我願上蒼 在我之後 讓天下骨肉相守
我心將往 玉宇芬芳 愛恨入土方得安詳
我心將往 燭火之光 滿月 隔外荒涼
Quote: In an off-the-cuff remark, Francis underlined that praying also means being in silence with God. He scolded faithful who believe that Mass is a time for chitchat. “It is not a moment to converse, it’s a moment of silence to prepare for dialogue. The moment to collect one’s heart to prepare for the encounter with the Lord,” the pope said Nov. 15.
In the Gospel, Jesus looked for secluded areas to pray. His disciples yearned to have the same intimate relationship with God and asked him to teach them how to pray. The first thing Jesus told them is that in order to pray the first thing to say is ‘Father.’
“If I am not able to call God Father, I am not able to pray,” Francis said. “This is the first point: to be humble, recognize oneself as son, rest in the Father, trust in Him. To enter the Kingdom of Heaven it’s necessary to make oneself small like children.”
Children, the pope continued, know that their parents will take care of them and “trust and have confidence” in them implicitly, and the faithful must have the same trust and confidence in their relationship with God.
The second point, Francis continued, is also to be like children by allowing oneself to be amazed. Children “always ask a thousand questions because they wish to understand the world and are surprised even by small things because everything is new to them,” he said.
Quoting the Gospel according to John, the pope asked if we are ready to be “reborn from above” and if it’s possible before the everyday tragedies to find once more “the taste, the joy, the astonishment of life.” The desire to be reborn is at the heart of every believer but Francis warned that our spiritual life can be easily lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life.
“In truth, the Lord amazes us by showing us that He loves us even in our weaknesses,” Francis said. “The Lord always forgives us.”
I feel something wrong in the U.S. medical system: Medical cares are not thorough or caring, while they are expensive – 1-night hospitalization could cost at least US$10,000. The following quoted long article does give me some great observations. A brief quote is copied below; the entire article is on this web page “Doctors Tell All—and It’s Bad” by Meghan O’Rourke.
… what I [Meghan O’Rourke] really wanted all along was a doctor trained in a different system, who understood that a conversation was as important as a prescription; a doctor to whom healing mattered as much as state-of-the-art surgery did. What I was looking for, it turns out, was a doctor like Victoria Sweet, and the kind of care offered in, of all places, a charity hospital in San Francisco. A doctor who is able to slow down, aware of the dividends not just for patients but for herself and for the system: this is the sort of doctor Sweet discovered she could be in “the last almshouse in America,” as she calls Laguna Honda Hospital, a funky old facility for the destitute and chronically ill, where swallows flew through open turrets and 1,200 patients lay mostly in old-fashioned “open wards,” and where she worked for 20-some years. In her remarkable memoir, God’s Hotel, Sweet—who is also a historian of medicine versed in the medical work of the 12th-century nun Hildegard of Bingen—calls her radical solution for our sped-up health care “slow medicine.” Here is a doctor saying what patients intuitively know: being sick is draining, healing takes time, and strong medicine often has strong side effects.
The title of the following quoted film review can be what I got from the Oscar 2017 best film winner “Moonlight”, quote: “‘Moonlight’ Is a Flawed, But Rewarding Exercise in Christian Empathy: The Oscar favorite’s portrayal of black, gay experience is at odds with a biblical sexual ethic—but for some, it might be worth the discomfort.” by David Roark/ February 24, 2017 on http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2017/february-web-only/why-church-needs-moonlight.html?start=2
Quote of the entire article:
In a few days at the Oscars, we’re likely to see director Barry Jenkins’s acclaimed film Moonlight up for numerous awards, including Best Picture. It will also likely bring home many of those awards. Yet, as Christians, most of us won’t be sure what to do with this film about a young, gay black man, despite the fact that it may just be the best and most needed movie of the year—especially for the church.
It’s certainly no easy task to live out the cultural mandate in a Genesis 3 world. Until Christ comes back and makes all things new again, Christians will be seeking to understand what it means to be “in the world but not of the world,” to figure out what is simply “permissible” and what is actually “beneficial.” Sure, we’ll have models and guides to help us along the way—Niebuhrs and Benedict Options—but in this lifetime, we’ll spend our dying days still striving and still failing to faithfully create, sustain, and consume culture in a society plagued by sin.
This is especially true for Christians dealing with something as complex as art. And though it doesn’t appear that we’re headed toward hell in a handbasket, as if the Christian story were a cynical story of declinism, every era and movement of culture presents a number of new and unique challenges—and opportunities. Two of those within our current cultural landscape center on the issues of race and sexuality.
Moonlight, which brought home Best Drama Motion Picture at the Golden Globes, takes up both of these issues and has garnered significant attention not only for focusing on them but also for doing so in a compelling way. The film functions more as an exploration into social identity than a commentary on our cultural moment, but it nevertheless paints a compelling picture of what it looks like to be gay, poor, and black through the story of its protagonist, Chiron. For Christians seeking to engage with the film, this premise naturally creates both some challenges and some opportunities.
Jenkins breaks up Chiron’s story into three acts: “Little,” “Chiron,” and “Black.” The first, “Little,” follows a young Chiron, who finds solace and shelter in a compassionate drug dealer, Juan, and his girlfriend, Teresa. Here we get a glimpse of Chiron’s physical and spiritual poverty as we watch the child take care of himself while his mother tries to make ends meet, as well as the ridicule and bullying he faces from peers for being small and “different.”
The next act, “Chiron,” picks up with the protagonist as a confused teenager. Chiron’s mom has now moved from occasional drug user to full on crack addict, and he is put right in the middle of her addiction while also being tormented at school for being gay. Still unsure of who or what he is, Chiron ends up kissing his childhood friend, Kevin, while smoking a joint at the beach, only to later be beat up by Kevin, which eventually sends Chiron to prison for retaliation.
The final act, “Black,” shows Chiron after his time in the pen. He’s now following in the footsteps of Juan as a hardened drug dealer, masking his homosexuality in a pseudo masculinity—though he eventually ends up back in Miami for a reunion with Kevin.
Less a traditional narrative and more a visual experience, this simple story acts as a window into the unfamiliar in more ways than one. Jenkins, working with cinematographer James Laxton, makes us feel as if we’re right there with Chiron, using handheld cameras that flow sporadically, yet delicately, in and out of scenes.
Despite the harsh realities of its setting and characters, Jenkins also finds a way to show grace and beauty through this lyrical imagery. The lighting and coloring of the film—in particular, the deep blues—create a visual paradox that is simultaneously bleak and poignant. These techniques keep us close to Chiron, avoiding a scenario where we are observing from a distance and, perhaps, feeling pity but not compassion. On the contrary, the film places us right there with him the whole time, as if we’re walking beside Chiron experiencing his sadness, his pain, his confusion, his romance—the feeling of finally being loved and accepted by someone.
Accomplished not only with striking visuals but also through the subtle performances of Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes, who play Chiron at different stages of life, Moonlight proves a powerful achievement in empathy, even when it pushes us to places where we don’t feel comfortable—places at odds with a distinctly Christian vision of creation and the Creator.
Indeed, as it relates to sexuality, Jenkins is not merely content with giving us a glimpse into the life of someone who experiences same-sex attraction; he embraces and celebrates Chiron’s sexual orientation and asks us to do the same. As Chiron seeks to find who he truly is, the film would have us think his homosexuality is his true identity—that by finally accepting and giving into this identity, he will finally achieve the “good life.” That’s, of course, the risk inherent in a film like Moonlight: It does such a great job at helping us care about Chiron that it can naturally persuade us to not only understand his desires and experiences but also to go so far as to approve of them.
That said, Moonlight has too much to offer to simply dismiss it for an unorthodox expression of sexual ethics—in fact, it seems to be the very film that we need right now. The film refuses to play directly into our social narrative. Instead, Jenkins subverts that narrative by merely making a beautiful movie with black actors about black characters. A recent interview with Jenkins drew attention to the fact that never in a film have we seen a black man teach a young black boy to swim, nor have we seen a black man cook dinner for another man.
In depicting these characters as actual human beings created in the image of God, Moonlight gives those with different experiences and backgrounds a taste of what it’s like to be black—and, more specifically, a gay black male growing up in a hostile, poverty-stricken community. In other words, the film establishes for so many an experience that they simply wouldn’t have otherwise. In a “dumpster fire” culture where everyone is yelling at each other across social media and divided over political parties and beliefs, we need that heavy dose of empathy and understanding, especially around matters of class, gender, and race. Moonlight gives us that.
As Christians who are called to be a light in the darkness, to be a city on a hill, to be ministers of reconciliation, we need to learn empathy as much as anyone. A movie like Moonlight can move our hearts to learn about others and to love others. Sure, some of its moral conclusions about the human experience should and will prove troubling. But it’s worth the effort; it’s worth feeling vulnerable, and maybe uncomfortable. If we, the people of God, expect anything to change, we should be willing to get our hands dirty.
All the more, we can be confident in knowing that all truth, goodness, and beauty belongs to God and that all things have yet to be made new again, which means our culture is still cursed by sin. So, when Moonlight garners attention in a few days and probably wins a number of Academy Awards, we don’t have to be angry or confused. We can understand it. We can accept it. We can even celebrate it, abhorring what is evil and clinging to what is good—and with Moonlight, there is a whole lot of good.
I woke up this morning to have this “strange” idea: When I am angry and ready to argue or fight, I might play this song first so I may boost up my courage, strength and power for the argument.