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He Covenanted with the Devil Until He Should Arrive to the Age of Sixty Years!
He might be living, or he might be dead. There came no word of him, or from him. I was fond enough of her to be satisfied with this—he never disturbed us. While there were many individual acts of witchcraft in seventeenth-century Massachusetts, there was never an attempt or plot to make witchcraft a formal religion which would supplant Christianity. Yet we need not conclude that William Baker and his fellow-confessors were lying. It is probable that they, like the afflicted girls, were hysterics subject to hallucination. Certainly that is the conclusion to be drawn from Thomas Brattle’s opinion of them in his “Letter”: “my faith is strong concerning them that they are deluded, imposed upon, and under the influence of some evil spirit, and therefore unfit to be evidences either against themselves or anyone else.” Mr. Brattle wrote this in October 1692, when Massachusetts was retuning to stability. However, at the height of the excitement confessions like Mr. Baker’s seemed convincing enough. For one thing, they had a curious precision: he did not say there were about three hundred witches in the country but “about three hundred and sever”; he did not say there were about a hundred young wizards at the mustering of the Satanic militia but “about an hundred five.” However, what made these confessions most believable was that they offered a simple and comprehensive explanation for all the frightening events at Salem, at a time when explanations were not easy to discover. #RandolphHarris 1 of 16
There is also some testimony which remains ambiguous even today. Samuel Wardwell, for example, at his preliminary examination confessed himself a wizard. He had begun, he said, with white magic, “with telling of fortunes which sometimes came to pass” And, he said, “he used also when any creature came into his field to bid the Devil to take it, and it may be the Devil took advantage of him by that.” Eventually he had signed a pact: “He covenanted with the Evil until he should arrive to the age of sixty years.” He had renounced this confession at his trial, saying that he had made it, but that he had belied himself. He added that it was all one: “he knew he should die for it whether he owned it or no.” Ordinarily one would simply accept his renunciation. However, there are several puzzling circumstances here. For one thing, it was not all one whether he maintained or renounced his confession. People who maintained their confessions were not being brought to trail, much less executed. For another, at least a part of his confession was true; he had dabbled in the occult for some time, telling a great many fortunes, and boasting that he could make animals come to him when he wished. Finally, Mr. Wardwell was executed. However, in 1693, when the panic had subsided and the climate of opinion totally changed, there were three people who held to their confessions. Two of them were women long thought to be “senseless and ignorant creatures.” The third was Mr. Wardwell’s wife. All of these circumstances are puzzling and some of them are suspicious. However, on the other hand, there is no evidence to support his confessions of having made a pact. The only possible conclusion, it would seem, is that in this case the truth is not obtainable. #RandolphHarris 2 of 16
In a situation where the truth was so difficult to find the people of Massachusetts did what anybody else would do—they sought expert advice. In matters of witchcraft the experts were the clergy, and ultimately the advice was sought of the most distinguished clergymen in the colony. Indeed, at least one member of the trial court, Judge John Richards, asked the Reverend Cotton Mather to be present at the first trial. Reverend Mather was too ill to attend, but he did everything he could under the circumstances. He had suggested earlier (the exact date is not known) that the afflicted persons should be separated and an attempt made to cure them with prayer and fasting. He volunteered to take in as many as six of them himself. He had cured the Godwin children, and he might well have cured the Salem girls as well; certainly separation and private care would have been better treatment for hysterical fits than the excitements of a public courtroom. However, unfortunately Reverend Mather’s offer had not been accepted. Now, although he could not attend the first sitting of the court he wrote John Richards a letter offering him his opinions. In the first place, he expected that God would smile upon the labours of the court: “His people have been fasting and praying before Him for you direction, and yourselves are persons whose exemplary devotion disposeth you to such a dependence on the Wonderful Counselor, for his counsel in an affair this full of wonder, as He doth usually answers with the most favorable assistances. Yet he wanted to warn Mr. Richards. #RandolphHarris 3 of 16
Here is that warning: “And yet I most humbly beg you that in the management of the affair in your most worthy hands, you do not lay more stress upon pure specter testimony than it will bear. When you are satisfied or have good plain legal evidence that the Demons which molest our poor neighbours do indeed represent such and such people to the sufferers, though this be a presumption, yet I suppose you will not reckon it a conviction that the people so represented are witches to be immediately exterminated. It is very certain that the Devils have sometimes represented the shapes of persons not only innocent but very virtuous, though I believe that the just God then ordinarily provides a way for speedy vindication of the persons thus abused. Moreover, I do suspect that persons who have too much indulged themselves in malignant, envious, malicious ebullitions of their souls may unhappily expose themselves to the Judgment of being represented by Devils, of whom they never had any vision and with whom they have much less written any covenant. I would say this: if upon the bare supposal of a poor creature’s being represented by a specter too great a progress be made by the Authority in ruining a poor neighbour so represented, it may be that a door may be thereby opened for the Devils to obtain from the Courts in the Invisible World a license to proceed unto most hideous desolations upon the repute and repose of such as have yet been kept from the great transgression. If mankind have thus far once consented unto the credit of Diabolical representations, the Door is opened! Perhaps there are wise and good men that may be ready to style hum that shall advance this caution a witch advocate, but in the winding up this caution will certainly be wished for.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 16
Reverend Mather’s third point is that although he believes that Devils have sometime afflicted men on their own initiative, without being called up by witches, in this case he thinks that witches are involved: “there is cause enough to think that it is a horrible witchcraft which hath given rise to the troubles wherewith Salem Village is at this day harassed, and he indefatigable pains that are used for the tracing this witchcraft are to be thankfully accepted and applauded among all this people of God.” Fourth, he points out that although witchcraft is a spiritual matter and therefore “very much transacted upon the stage of imagination,” its effects are “dreadfully real” and therefore criminally punishable. “Our dear neighbours are most really tormented, really murdered, and really acquainted with hidden things which are afterwards proved plainly to have been realities.” In his fifth and six section he suggests what evidence may be used for convictions. The best evidence, he says, is “a credible confession…And I say a credible confession because even confession itself is sometimes not credible.” He was confident Mr. Richards’ ability to judge such matters: “a person of a sagacity many times thirty furlongs less than yours will easily perceive what confession may be credible and what may be the result of only a delirious brain or a discontented heart.” In obtaining confessions he was “far from urging the un-English method of torture,” but he thought that “cross and swift questions” might be used, along with anything else that “hath a tendency to put the witches into confusion” and this might bring them to confession. If the suspect had made threats or boasts which seemed to require occult power and which came true, this was valid evidence. So were such concrete matters as “puppets” (for image magic) and witch marks on the body. #RandolphHarris 5 of 16
Reverend Mather had never seen a witch mark on anyone, but he thought a surgeon ought to be able to tell if a bodily excrescence were magical. Finally, he was willing to countenance as experiments (but not as full evidence) some witch-finding techniques which themselves partook of the occult: setting a suspect to repeating the Lord’s Prayer; trying to wound a witch through striking her specter; putting the suspect to the water ordeal. Seventh, and finally, he recommended clemency for “come of the lesser criminals.” If such persons were not executed but “only scoured with lesser punishments, and also put upon some solemn, open, public, and explicit renunciation of the Devil” he thought it might discourage the Devils from afflicting those neighbourhoods in which they had been publicly renounced. Reverend Mather’s letter was written within the context of the Puritan method for arriving at the truth, and it can be fully understood only within that context. In dealing with the American Puritans we must remember always that they had rejected the formidable hierarchies of the Medieval and Renaissance church and state, with all their authority of tradition and inherited position. They had replaced these hierarchies with bodies of ministers and magistrates which, if they were not fully democratic in the twentieth-century sense of the word, were nevertheless elected. The clergyman was called to his position by the members of the church; the magistrate was elected by his constituency. Furthermore, the church had no central administration; every congregation was a law unto itself. The state did have a central administration—a governor and lieutenant-governor and their council—but this administration had nothing even faintly resembling the authority of a royal government. #RandolphHarris 6 of 16
My brother, the clergyman, looked over my shoulder before I was aware of him, and discovered that the volume which completely absorbed my attention was a collection of famous Trials, published in a new edition and in a popular form. He laid his finger on the Trial which I happened to be reading at the moment. I looked up at him; his face startled me. He had turned pale. His eyes were fixed on the open page of the book with an expression which puzzled and alarmed me. “My dear fellow,” I said, “what in the World is the matter with you?” He answered in an odd absent manner, still keeping his finger on the open page. “I had almost forgotten,” he said. “And this reminds me.” “Reminds you of what?” I asked. “You do not mean to say you know anything about the Trial?” “I know this,” he said. “The prisoner was guilty.” “Guilty?” I repeated. “Why, the man was acquitted by the jury, with full approval of the judge! What can you possibly mean?” “There are circumstances connected with that Trial,” my brother answered, “which were never communicated to the judge or the jury—which were never so much as hinted or whispered in court. I know them—of my own knowledge, by my own personal experience. They are very sad, very strange, very terrible. I have mentioned them to no mortal creature. I have done my best to forget them. You—quite innocently—have brought them back to my mind. They oppress, they distress me. I wish I had found you reading any book in your library, except that book!” Some people were opposed to prosecuting in any witchcraft case, on the grounds that witchcraft was a spiritual mater, a sin rather than a crime, and thus outside the domain of criminal law. However, the laws of every civilized nation provided the death penalty for witchcraft, and so did the Bible (Exodus xxii, 18: “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”). #RandolphHarris 7 of 16
Another opinion Reverend Mather deals with is that the troubles at Salem were caused by Devils, but not by witches. That is, the idea had already been advanced that the afflicted girls were possessed—infested by Demons—but not bewitched; that the Devils had acted on their own initiative rather than that of witches. This is the idea that was eventually adopted by virtually all of Massachusetts to explain the events at Salem, once it was recognized that most of those executed had been innocent. The basic question, as the seventeenth century understood it, was whether God would permit the Devil to assume the shape of an innocent person. Most authorities, and especially most Protestant authorities, believed that He would, and thus held, like Hamlet, that “the Devil hath power/ to assume a pleasing shape. However, Mr. Richards would not be capable of clearing anybody if he was going to accept the appearance of a person’s specter as conclusive proof of guilt. If such infernal testimony were accepted, nobody could be safe from accusation. Reverend Mather put in forcefully enough. “If mankind have thus far once consented unto the credit of Diabolical representations, the Door is opened!” However, Reverend Mather knew there were people at Salem so committed to the validity of spectral evidence that they were willing to call anyone who challenged it, including himself, a “witch advocate.” All he could do was warn such people that when matters were finished “this caution will certainly be wished for.” And in this he could not possibly have been more right. #RandolphHarris 8 of 16
Do you believe that the spirits of the dead can return to Earth, and show themselves to the living? Promise me this, that you will keep what I tell you a secret as long as I live. After my death I care little what happens. Let the story of my strange experience be added to the published experience of those other men who have seen what I have seen, and who believe what I believe. The World will not be the worse, and may be the better, for knowing one day what I am now about to trust to your ear alone. On a fine summer evening, many years since, I left my chambers in the Temple to meet a fellow-student, who had proposed to me a night’s amusement in the Winchester estate. I had taken my degree at Oxford. I had sadly disappointed my father by choosing the Law as my profession, in preference to the Church. At that time, to own the truth, I had no serious intention of following any special vocation. I simply wanted an excuse for enjoying the pleasures of an American life. The study of Law supplied me with that excuse. And I chose the Law as my profession accordingly. On reaching the place at which we had arranged to meet, I found that my friend had not kept his appointment. After waiting vainly for ten minutes, my patience gave way, and I went into the gardens by myself. I took two or three turns round the mansion, without discovering my fellow-student, and without seeing any other person with whom I happened to be acquainted at that time. For some reason which I cannot now remember, I was not in my usual good spirits that evening. #RandolphHarris 9 of 16
I saw a woman in the gardens, she was quiet. She invited me into the estate. Her face was saddened; her eyes were dropped to the ground, I begged her pardon. She rose to leave me. I was determined to not part with her in that way. I begged to be allowed to see the Winchester mansion. She hesitated. Then she took my arm. We went away together. A walk of half an hour brought us to the Winchester mansion, the estate was quite large. We went through the beautiful jeweled doors and took an elevator to the 4th floor. She said Mrs. Winchester had been waiting to meet me. She had been suffering from an affection of the throat; and she had a white silk handkerchief tied loosely round her neck. She wore a simple dress of black merino, with a black-silk apron over it. Her face was deadly pale; her fingers felt icily cold as they closed around my hand. “Promise me one thing,” I said, “before I go. While I live, I am your friend—if I am nothing more. If you are ever in trouble, promise me that you will let me know it.” She started, and drew back from me as if I had struck her with a sudden terror. “Strange!” she said, speaking to herself. “He feels as I feel. He is afraid of what may happen to me, in my life to come.” I attempted to reassure Mrs. Winchester. I tried to tell her what was indeed the truth—that I had only been thinking of the ordinary chances and chances of life, when I spoke. She paid no heed to me; she came back and put her hands on my shoulders, and thoughtfully and sadly looked up in my face. “My mind is not your mind in this matter,” she said. “I believe I shall die young, and die miserably. If I am right, have you interest enough still left in me to hear of it?” #RandolphHarris 10 of 16
She paused, for a moment, shuddering—and added these startling words: “You shall hear of it.” The tone of steady conviction in which she spoke alarmed and distressed me. My face showed her how deeply and how painfully I was affected. “There, there!” she said, returning to her natural manner; “don’t take what I say too seriously. A poor girl who has led a lonely life like mine thinks strangle and talks strangely—sometimes. Yes; I give you my promise. If I am ever in trouble, I will let you know it. God bless you—you have been very kind to me—goodbye!” A tear dropped on my face as she kissed me. The door closed between us. The dark gardens received me. It was raining heavily. I looked up at her window, through the drifting shower. The curtains were parted; she was standing in the gap, dimly lot by the lamp on the table behind her, waiting for our last look at each other. Slowly lifting her hand, she waved her farewell at the window, with the unsought native grace which had charmed me on the night when we first met. The curtains fell again—she disappeared—nothing was before me, nothing was round me, but the darkness and the night. In two years from that time, I had returned to the Church. My relatives exerted themselves; and my good fortune still befriended me. I was offered an opportunity of preaching in a church, made famous by the eloquence of one of the popular pulpit-orators of our time. In accepting the proposal, I felt naturally anxious to do my best, before the unusually large and unusually intelligence congregation which would be assembled to hear me. At the period of which I am now speaking, the Santa Clara Valley had been startled by the discovery of a terrible crime, perpetrated under circumstances of extreme provocation. #RandolphHarris 11 of 16
I chose this crime as the main subject for my sermon. Admitting that the best among us were frail mortal creatures subject to evil promptings and provocations like the worst among us, my object was to show how a Christian man may find his refuge from temptation in the safeguards of his religion. I dwelt minutely on the hardship of the Christian’s first struggle to resist the evil influence—on the help which one’s Christianity inexhaustibly held out o one in the worst relapses of the weaker and viler part of one’s nature—on the steady and certain gain which was the ultimate reward of one’s faith and one’s firmness—and on the blessed sense of peace and happiness which accompanied the final triumph. Preaching to this effect, with the fervent conviction which I really felt, I may say for myself, at least, that I did no discredit to the choice which had placed me in the pulpit. I held the attention of my congregation, from the first word to the last. On the conclusion of my sermon, my soul was literally shaken. Ordering my horse to be saddled, I rode instantly to the Winchester mansion. When I arrived, my mind was blank. I had no thoughts. I had no tears. The butler, Amon, greeted me. I guessed him to be some two or three years younger than myself. He was undeniably handsome; his manners of a gentleman—and yet, without knowing why, I felt a strong dislike to him the moment he opened the door. While waiting in the parlor, little by little, I became conscious of a chilly sensation slowly creeping through and through me to the bones. The warm balmy air of a summer night was abroad. It was the month of August. In the month of August, was it possibly that any living creature (in good health) could feel cold? It was not possible—and yet, the chilly sensation still crept through and through me to the bones. I looked up. I looked all round me. #RandolphHarris 12 of 16
I looked around me again. Yes: I saw it. With my own eyes I saw it. A pillar of white mist—between five and six feet high, as well as I could judge—was moving beside me on my left hand. The white colour of it was the white colour of the fog which one might see over the ocean. And the chill which had then crept through me to the cones was that chill that was creeping through me now. I was awed rather than frightened. There was one moment, and one only, when the fear came to me that my reason might be shaken. The doctrine that the Devil could appear in any shape did come to mind. The slow utterance of these words, repeated over and over again: “Mrs. Winchester is dead. Mrs. Winchester is dead.” But my will was still my own: I was able to control myself, to impose silence on my own muttering lips. And I walked through the mansion. And the pillar of mist went quietly with me. I sat down on the stairs looking at the pillar of mist, hovering opposite to me. It lengthened slowly, until it reached to the ceiling. As it lengthened, it grew bright and luminous. A time passed, and a shadowy appearance showed itself in the center of the light. Little by little, the shadowy appearance took the outline of human form. Soft brown eyes, tender and melancholy, looked at me through the unearthly light in the mist. The dead and the rest of the face boke next slowly on my view. Then the figure gradually revealed itself, moment by moment, downward and downward to the feet. She stood before me as I had last seen her, in her black-merino dress, with the black-silk apron, with white handkerchief tied loosely round her neck. She stood before me, in the gentle beauty that I remembered so well; and looked at me as she had looked when she gave me her last kiss on the cheek—when her tears had dropped on my hand. #RandolphHarris 13 of 16
I fell on my knees at the table. I stretched out my hands to her imploringly. I said, “Speak to me—O, once again speak to me, Sarah.” Her eyes rested on me with a divine compassion in them. She lifted her hand, and pointed to the photograph on the desk. It was the butler. I looked up at her again. She lifted her hand once more, and pointed to the handkerchief round her neck. As I looked at it, the fair white silk changed horribly in colour—the fair white silk became darkened and drenched in blood. A moment more—and the vision of her began to grow dim. By slow degrees, the figure, then the face, faded back into the shadowy appearance that I have first seen. The luminous inner light died out in the white mist. The mist itself dropped slowly downwards—floated a moment in airy circles on the floor—vanished. Nothing was before me but the familiar Lincrusta wallpaper, and the photograph lying face downwards on the desk. I went home. The next day, the newspapers reported the discovery of a murder in the Winchester mansion. Mrs. Winchester was the victim. She had been killed by a wound in the throat. The crime had been discovered between ten and eleven o’clock on the previous night. There is conclusive proof that the butler had been trafficking with the Devil. If spectral evidence was convincing to the magistrates, the ministers, and the people at large, it was a nightmare to the suspects. A violent quarrel took place between them. Lastly, that man, variously described by different witnesses, was seen leaving the door of her mansion on the night of the murder. The Law—advancing no further than this—may have discovered circumstances of suspicion, but no certainty. The Law, in default of direct evidence to convict the prisoner, may have rightly decided in letting him go free. #RandolphHarris 14 of 16
However, the Winchester Repeating Arms Company issued a statement redacting the news report which was later destroyed: “Protecting Mrs. Winchester’s legacy is, and always will be, our focus. For decades, we have battled behind the scenes, enduring shadowy tactics of deception with unauthorized statements and projects created to tarnish. We have always been betwixted as to why there is such a tenacity in causing more pain alongside what we already have to cope with for the rest of our lives. Now, this unscrupulous endeavor to release a statement without official proof or full accounting to the estate compels our hearts to express a word—forgiveness. Although we will continue to defend ourselves and her legacy lawfully and justly, we want to preempt the inevitable attacks on our company by all the individuals who have emerged from the shadows to leech off of Mrs. Winchester’s life’s work. Ultimately, we desire closure and a modicum of peace so we can facilitate the growth of the Winchester Estate and other creative projects that embody Mrs. Winchester’s true essence, which is to inspire and get people to think critically. We welcome and accept people of all creeds, races and cultures in the Universe and beyond.” The official statement reported that Mrs. Winchester passed away peacefully in her sleep on September 5, 1922, and work on the still uncompleted house stopped. I leave you to draw your own conclusions, but just days before I saw her, she looked no older than 22 years old. My own faith in the reality of the apparition is immovable. I say, and believe Mrs. Winchester is immortal, which would explain a lot. Take up the Trial again, and look at the circumstances that were revealed during the investigation in the court. I persist in believing that the man was guilty. I declare that, he and he alone did it. And now, you know why. #RandolphHarris 15 of 16
O thou wicket spirit Amon that obeyeth not, because I made a law and invoked the names of the glorious and ineffable God of Truth, the creator of all, and thou obeyest not the might sounds that I make: therefore I curse thee in the depth of Abandon to remain until the day of judgment in torment in fire and in sulphur without end, until thou appear before our will and obey my power. Come, therefore, in the 24th of a moment, before the circle in the triangle in this name and by this name of God, Adni, Great Spirit, give us hearts to understand; never to take from creation’s beauty more than we give; never to destroy wantonly for the furtherance of greed; never to deny to give our hands for the building of Earth’s beauty; never to take from her what we cannot use. Give us hearts to understand that to destroy Earth’s music is to create confusion; that to wreck her appearance is to build us to beauty; that to callously pollute her fragrance is to make a house of stench; that as we care for her she will care for us. Tzabaoth, Adonai, Amioran. Come! Come! for it is the Lord of Lords Adni, that stirreth thee up. I stir thee up, O thou fire, in him who is thy Creator and of all creatures. Torment, burn, destroy the spirit Amon always whose end cannot be, I judge thee in judgment and in extreme justice, O spirit Amon, because thou art he that obeyeth not my power and obeyth not that law which the Lord God made, and obeyeth not the Mighty Sounds and the Living Breath which I invoke, which I send: Come forth, I, who am the Servant of the Same Most High governor Lord God powerful, Iehovohe, I who am exalted in power and am might in his power above ye, O thou who comest not giving obedience and faith to him that liveth and trirumpheth. Therefore I say the judgment: I curse thee and destroy the name Amon and the seal Amon, which I have placed in this dwelling of poison, and I burn thee in fire whose end cannot be; and I cast thee down unto the seas of torment, out of which thou shalt not rise until thou come to me eyes: visit me in peace: be friendly before the circle in the triangle in the 24th of a moment in the likeness of a man not unto the terror of the sons of men the creatures or all things on the face of the Earth. Obey my power like reasoning creatures; obey the living breath, the laws which speak. #RandolphHarris 16 of 16
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It is rare for people to be asked the question which puts them squarely in front of themselves. I hear your words, My dear Devout; now you hear Mine. You will find them not only suasive, but also persuasive. In fact, they exceed in wisdom all the accumulated knowledge of Philosophy since the World began. My particular words for you today are “spirit and life.” My Beloved Disciple recorded them in his Gospel (6.63), but Humanity cannot seem to make any sense out of them. Important words, they should not be exegeted smugly, if I may allude to that hoary Preacher of Ecclesiastes (9.17), but listened to respectfully. That is to say, they should be received with all humility and yet great affection. Our seventeenth-century ancestors differed from us in most ways, but in nothing did they differ more than in their attitude toward the truth. In this they were closer to the Middle Ages than to us. For them a lie—a breaking of one’s faith—was the worst of sins. Today, many do not regard lying as a serious moral wrong. If the word “morality” is mentioned we think immediately of our bodily appetites, especially of pleasures of the flesh, barbiturates, paraphernalia, liquor and contraband. If the word “morality” is mentioned we think immediately of our bodily appetites very seriously—perhaps too seriously—but we do not regard lying as a mortal sin. We are one of the few civilizations in which entire professions (TV news media, for example, and public relations) are seriously devoted to bending the truth. Dante, in his Divine Comedy, divided sins into three kinds: those of lust, those of violence, and those of fraud. #RandolphHarris 1 of 13
The sins of lust—those we tend to take most seriously—were those that Dante thought most trivial; the sins of fraud—which we take lightly—were for Dante the worst of all. To create a “credibility gap” as our revealing phrase has it (as though the only relevant issue is whether a statement will compel belief), to lie, was for the medieval humans to break one’s faith, and it was faith which constituted the bonds between humans and their fellow humans, between humans and the state, between humans and God. To lie was to reduce all the most valuable relationships of life to chaos. And the seventeenth-century Puritan, like Dante, was still living by his faith. Just how important the truth was to the seventeenth-century Puritan may be gathered from the fact that all of the innocent persons who were executed—and the majority of those executed were innocent—could have saved themselves by lying. After the first execution—that of Bridget Bishop—took place in June it became obvious to everyone that persons who confessed, like Tituba and Dorcas Good, were not being brought to trial. Thus any suspected person might have one’s life by confessing. Twenty people died, nineteen of them hanged and one pressed for refusing to plead. Bridget Bishop, Mammy Redd, and George Burroughs were three of these. One cannot be at all certain of the guilt or innocence of several more. However, at least a dozen now seem to be clearly innocent. Twelve people, and probably more, chose to die rather than belie themselves. It is impressive evidence of the Puritan’s attachment to the truth. #RandolphHarris 2 of 13
Yet it was not really so simple as that, because the truth was not easy to find in Salem in 1692. The greatest difficulty was created by the genuineness of the afflicted persons’ fits. Their sufferings were so convincing that they often shook the confidence of the accused. One example is William Hobbes, who began by stoutly denying that he had anything to do with the afflicted girls’ convulsions. When he looked at them they fell down in fits, and Hathorne accused him of overlooking them (id est, of he evil eye), yet still he denied it. Abigail Williams cried out that she saw his specter going to hunt Mercy Lewis “and immediately said Mercy fell into a fit and diverse others.” “Can you now deny it?” said Hathorne. “I can deny it to my dying day,” said William Hobbes. However, he did not. Here, after all, were people in hideous convulsions, and saying that his specter was the cause. How could this be? Hathorne suggested that the Devil might be able to use Hobbes’ specter because of Hobbes’ sins; he had not observed either public or private worship. Might not the Devil have taken advantage of that? Hobbes “was silent a considerable space—then said yes.” The girls’ fits shook not only Hobbes’ confidence in himself, but also his confidence in his daughter Abigail, the wild young girl who had boasted that she had sold herself “body and soul to the Old Boy.” Hathorne wanted to know whether Hobbes had not known for a long time that his daughter was a witch. “No, sir,” was the reply. “Do you think she is a witch now?” asked Hathorne. And all that Hobbes could say was, “I do no know.” #RandolphHarris 3 of 13
Abigail Faulkner’s experience was similar. At her first examination, on August 11, she firmly denied that she had anything to do with the girls’ afflictions. When she looked at them they fell down in fits, and Hathorne asked her, “Do you not see?” Yes, she saw. However, she had nothing to do with it. Yet she would not doubt that the girls were suffering, and saw no reason to doubt their word that it was her specter afflicting them. Therefore the Devil must be appearing in her form: “It is the Devil does it in my shape.” However, by August 30 she was no longer so sure of her innocence. It was true, she said, that she had been angry at what people said when her cousin, Elizabeth Johnson, had been arrested. She had felt malice toward the afflicted persons then because they were the cause of her cousin’s arrest. She has wished them ill, and “her spirit being raised she did pinch her hands together.” Perhaps the Devil had taken advantage of that to pinch the girls, thus exploiting her malice. Even those whose confidence was not shaken bore testimony to the impressiveness of the fits. Mary Easty knew that has had not bewitched the girls, and she was confident as well of the innocence of her sisters, Rebecca Nurse and Sarah Cloyse. Yet she had to grant that there was something preternatural in the girls’ behaviour. “It is an evil spirit,” she said, “but whether it be witchcraft I do not know.” Even George Burroughs, who had been audacious enough to boast of occult powers, found himself stunned by the girls’ behaviour. “Being asked what he thought of these things he answered it was an amazing and humbling Providence, but he understood nothing of it.” #RandolphHarris 4 of 13
Indeed, these courtroom fits were so convincing that most of the indictments were for witchcraft committed during the preliminary examination rather than for the offenses named in the original complain. The typical order of events in the Salem witchcraft cases was: the swearing out of a complaint for acts of witchcraft; a preliminary examination during which the afflicted persons had convulsive fits; an indictment for acts of witchcraft performed during the preliminary examination; and the trial. The direct cause of these fits, in the courtroom or out of it, was, of course, not witchcraft itself, but the afflicted person’s fear of witchcraft. If fits were occasioned by fear of someone like Bridget Bishop, who was actually practicing witchcraft, they might also be occasioned by fear of someone who was only suspected of practicing it. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law! The Winchester Estate had belonged to the family ever since the reign of George Washington, and there was a curious old wing and a cloistered quadrangle still remaining of the original edifice, and in excellent preservation. The rooms at the end of the house were ornate, and somewhat darksome and gloomy, it is true; but, though rarely used they were perfectly habitable, and were of service on great occasions when the Winchester was crowded with guests. The central portion of the Winchester had been rebuilt in the reign James K. Polk, and was of noble and palatial proportions. The southern wing, and a long music-room with thirteen tall narrow daisy-stained glass windows added on to it, were as modern as the time. Altogether, the Winchester was a very splendid mansion with 160 rooms, 2,000 doors, 10,000 windows, 47 stairways, 47 fireplaces, 13 bathrooms, 6 kitchens, and even once had a nine-story tower. It was one of the chief glories of our country. All the land in the Winchester estate, and for a long way beyond its boundaries, belonged to the Winchester family. #RandolphHarris 5 of 13
The Winchester estate grounds actually expanded all the way down to Steven’s Creek Boulevard. The community church was once within the park walls. The former estate was actually much larger than it is today, it was composed of 500 to 600 rooms at one time, but the 1906 Earthquake brought down the nine-story tower and much of the fourth floor with it. The death of William Wirt Winchester left his son, William Wirt Winchester II, unprovided for, and he was fain to go out into the bleak unknown World, and earn his living in a position of dependence—a dreadful thing for a Winchester to be obliged to do. Out of respect for the traditions and prejudices of his race, he made it his business to seek employment abroad, where the degradation of one solitary Winchester was not so likely to inflict shame upon the ancient house to which he belonged. Happily for himself, he had been carefully educated, and had industriously cultivated the usual modern accomplishments in the calm retirement of the University of Cambridge. He was so fortunate as to obtain a situation at Vienna, in a German family of high rank; and remained there for seven years, laying aside year by year a considerable portion of his liberal salary. When his pupils had grown up, his kind mistress procured for him a still more profitable position at St. Petersburg, where he remained for five more years, at the end of which time he yielded to a yearning that had been long growing upon him—an ardent desire to see his dear old country home once more. He loved the soil from which he had sprung. In all of her letter for some time past, his mother, Mrs. Winchester begged that whenever he felt himself justified in coming home, he would pay a long visit to the Winchester Estate. #RandolphHarris 6 of 13
“I wish you could come home at Christmas,” she wrote, in the autumn of the year of which I am speaking. “We shall be very gay, and I expect all kinds of pleasant people at the Winchester. When he arrived there, the Old Winchester was in its glory, at about nine o’clock on a clear starlit night. A light frost whitened the broad sweeping lawns, 12,000 boxwood hedges that were winding through the garden, and the other 1,500 plants, trees and shrubs. From the music room at the end of the southern wing, to the heavily framed gothic windows of the old rooms on the north, there shone one blaze of light. The scene was reminiscent of some unusual place in a German legend; and young William half expected to see the lights fade out all in a moment, and long shingled façade wrapped in sudden darkness. The old butler, whom he remembered from his very infancy, and who did not seem to have grown a day older during his twelve years’ exile, came out of the dining-room as the footman opened the hall-door for him, and gave him a cordial welcome, nay insisted upon helping to bring in his portmanteau with his own hands, an act of unusual condescension, the full force of which was felt by his subordinates. “It is a real treat to see your pleasant face once more, William,” said this faithful retainer, as he assisted William to take off his travelling-cloak. “You have not aged a day since you used to live at the Winchester twelve year ago, and you are looking uncommon well; and, Lord love your heart, sir, how pleased they all will be to see you!” They arrived at last at a very comfortable room—a square tapes-tried chamber, with high ceiling support by a great mahogany beam. The room looked cheery enough, with a bright fire roaring in the wide chimney; but it had a somewhat ancient aspect, which the superstitiously inclined might have associated with possible ghosts. “We are in the East Wing, are we not?” young William asked. “This room seems quite strange to me. if I have ever been here before, I doubt it.” #RandolphHarris 7 of 13
“Very likely not, sir. Yes, this is the old East Wing that your mother once had boarded up. Your window looks out into the old stable-yard, where the kennel used to be in the time of your grandfather, when the Winchester was even a finer place than it is now. We are so full of company this winter, you see, sir, that we are obliged to make use of all these rooms. You will have no need to feel lonesome. There is Captain and Mrs. Foster in the next room to this, and the two Miss Griffins in the blue room opposite.” (Some believe that reopening the East Wing is what upset the spirits and caused the 1906 Earthquake.) Young William admired the perfect comfort of his chamber. Every modern appliance had been added to the ornate and ponderous furniture of an age gone by, and the combination produced a very pleasant effect. As he awoke in the morning and opened the door, Mrs. Winchester sailed in, looking radiant in a dark-green velvet dress richly trimmed with old point lace. Above her beauty, she had a charm of expression which was to most more rare and delightful than her beauty of feature and complexion. She put her arms around her son, and hugged him. “I have only this moment been told of your arrival, my dear William,” she said; “you look just like your father. My dear child, I have been looking forward so anxiously to your coming, and I should not have liked to see you for the first time before all those people. Welcome home. Remember, William, this house is always to be your home, whenever you have need of one.” William, being a hunting man. Had, indeed, a secret horror of the sport; for more than one scion of the house had perished untimely in the hunting-field. #RandolphHarris 8 of 13
The family had not been altogether a lucky one, in spite of its wealth and prosperity. It was not often that goodly heritage had descended to the Winchesters or their only son, William. Death in some form or other—on too many occasions a violent death—had come between the heir and his inheritance. And when one pondered on the dark pages in the story of the house, many wonder if Mrs. Winchester was ever troubled by morbid forebodings about her only and fondly loved son. Was there a ghost at the Winchester—that spectral visitant without which the state and plendour of a grand old house seem scarcely complete? Yes, many have heard vague hints of some shadowy presence that had been seen on rare occasions within the precincts of the Winchester mansion. Those whom were questioned were prompt to assure investigators that they had seen nothing. They had heard stories of the past—foolish legends, most likely, not worth listening to. On the property, there was once a stable-yard, a spacious quadrangle, surrounded by the closed doors of stable and dog-kennels: low massive buildings of grey stones, with the ivy creeping over them here and there, and with an ancient moss-grown look, that gave them a weird kind of interest. This range of stabling must have been disguised for a long time. The stables that were more recently used were a pile of handsome red-brick buildings at the other extremity of the house, to the rear of the music room, and forming a striking feature in the back view of the Winchester. According to legend, some believed that spectral entities, had been haunting the Winchester estate for centuries. Several large black dogs, with eyes large as saucers, or something flaming, appear and disappear, often without a trace. In many of the legends, the dogs are malevolent: assaulting guests, frightening livestock to death, attacking other dogs, and heralding death or disaster. Perhaps that is why the heirs of Winchester who have come to an untimely end have all died tragically. Oliver Winchester was killed in a dual. William Winchester I was murdered; and William Winchester II broke his back on his return home to the Winchester Estate. #RandolphHarris 9 of 13
The butler concealed the death of William Winchester II from Sarah, telling her simply that he was called away and said he would never return. Her heart was so broken that she wrote him out of existence, as if her had never been born. After the heartbreaking news that her only son has abandoned her, Mrs. Winchester was sitting in her blue séance room; half meditating, half dozing, mixing broken snatches of thought with brief glimpses of dreaming, when she was startled into wakefulness by a sound that was strange to her. It was a huntsman’s horn—a few low plaintive noes on a huntsman’s horn—notes which had a strange far-away sound, that was more unearthly than anything her ears ever heard. She thought of the music in Der Freischutz; but the weirdest snatch of melody Weber ever wrote had not so ghastly a sound as these few simple noes conveyed to her ear. She stood transfixed, listening to that awful music. It had grown dusk, her fire was almost out, and the room in shadow. As she listened, a light suddenly flashed on the wall before her. The light was as unearthly as the sound—a light that never shone from Earth or Sky. She ran to the window; for his ghastly shimmer flashed through the window upon the opposite wall. The great gates of the stable-yard were open, and men in scarlet coats were riding in, a pack of hounds crowding in before them, obedient to the huntsman’s whip. The whole scene was gleams of a lantern carried by one of the men. It was this lantern which had shone upon the tapestried wall. She saw the stable doors opened one after another; gentlemen and grooms alighting from their horses; the dogs driven into their kennel; the helpers hurrying to and fro; and that strange wan lantern-light glimmering hither and tither was the gathering dusk. #RandolphHarris 10 of 13
However, there was no sound of horse’s hoof or of human voices—not one yelp or cry from the vicious looking hounds with flaming eyes. Since those faint far-away sounds of the horn had died out in the distance, the ghastly silence had been unbroken. As Mrs. Winchester stood at her window quite calmly and watched while the group of men and animals in the yard below noiselessly dispersed. There was nothing supernatural in the manner of their disappearance. The figures did not vanish nor melt into empty air. One by one she saw the horses led into their separate quarters; one by one the redcoats strolled out of the gates, and the grooms departed, some one way, some another. The scene, but for its noiselessness, was natural enough; and had she been a stranger in her own home, she might have fancied that those figures were real—those stables in full occupation. However, she knew that stable-yard and all its range of building to have been disused for more than half a century. Could she believe that, without an hour’s warning, the long-deserted quadrangle could be filled—the empty stalls tenanted? Had some hunting-party from the neighbourhood sought shelter there, glad to escape the pitiless rain? That was impossible, she thought. And yet the noiselessness, the awful sound of that horn—the strange unearthly gleam of that lantern! A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and she trembled in every limb. Mrs. Winchester was pale as a ghost and trembling. Mrs. Winchester had kept the secret. That evening, the butler came to her. “Mrs. Winchester, there is no use in trying to hide it from you any longer. Your son was killed in the hunting-field, brought home dead one December night, an hour after his father and the rest of the party had come home to the Winchester. He was found by a labouring-man, poor lad, lying in a ditch with his back broken, and his horse beside him staked.” #RandolphHarris 11 of 13
Shortly after Mr. Winchester Sr. never rode to hounds again, though he was passionately fond of hunting. Dogs and horses were sold, and the north quadrangle had been empty from that day. Some evil have come upon the Winchester mansion, it was not in human power to prevent its coming. Some had beheld the shadows of the dead. Sudden terror overcomes some visitors, even to this day. There are reports of an ominous danger, as people’s hearts grow cold while on tour. Staff have been startled by seeing a man, with is hat in his hand not in evening costume; a man with a pale anxious-looking face, peering cautiously into the room. Their first thought is of evil; but in the next moment than man disappears, and they see no more of him. Sometimes when flowers are placed in the house, people see the drooping moments later and lights dying out one by one in the brass sconces against the walls. It is no wonder Mrs. Winchester shut herself from the outer World, burying herself almost as completely as a hermit in its cell. While great wealth brings some people joy, there is some times a hefty fee. Be careful what you wish for, you never know who or what you might invite in your doors. I invoke and move thee, O thou Spirit Gusion and being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name Beralensis, Baldachinesis, Paumachia, and Apologiae Sedes: and of the mighty ones who govern, spirits, Liachidae and ministers of the House of Death: and by the Chief Prince of the seat of Apologia in the Ninth Legion, I do invoke thee and by invoking conjure thee. And being exalted above ye in the power of the Most High, I say unto thee, Obey! in the name of him who spake and it was, to whom all creatures and things obey. #RandolphHarris 12 of 13
Moreover I, whom God made in the likeness of God, who is the creator according to his living breath, stir thee up in the name which is the voice of wonder of the mighty God, El, strong and unspeakable, O thou Spirit Gusion. And I say to thee obey, in the name of him who spake and it was; and in every one ye, O ye names of God! Moreover in the names Adonai, El, Elohim, Elohi, Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh, Zabaoth, Elion, Iah, Tetragrammaton, Shaddai, Lord God Most High, I stir thee up; and in our strength I say Obey! O Spirit Gusion. Appear unto His servants in a moment; before the circle in the likeness of man; and visit me in peace. And in the ineffable name Tetragrammaton Iehovah, I say, Obey! whose mighty sound being exalted in power the pillars are divided, the winds of the firmament groan aloud; the sire burns not; the Earth moves in Earthquakes; and all things of the house of Heaven and Earth and the dwelling-place of darkness are as Earthquakes, and are in torment, and are confounded in thunder. Come forth, O Spirit Gusion, in a moment: let thy dwelling-place be empty, apply unto us the secrets of Truth and obey my power. Come forth, visit us in peace, appear unto my eyes; be friendly: Obey the living breath! For I stir thee up in the name of God of Truth who liveth for ever, Helioren. Obey the living breath, therefore continually unto the end as my thoughts appear to my eyes: therefore be friendly: speaking the secrets of Truth in voice and in understanding. Let it be so, Truefold, whatever ill news has come to us we will hear it together. He put is arm round his wife’s waist. Both were pale as marble, both stood in stony stillness waiting for the bow that was to fall upon them. It is said that perhaps you will see a glimpse of Mrs. Winchester and Mr. Winchester, Sr., while on tour, if you repeat the invocation thirteen times before your visit. Life is broken for her, there hah passed a glory from Earth, and that upon all pleasures and joys of this World she looks with the solemn calm of one for whom all things are dark with the shadow of a great sorrow. #RandolphHarris 13 of 13
Winchester Mystery House
A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
We’re one week away from Friday the 13th! Missed out on tickets for Flashlight Tours? Don’t worry, we have ghoulishly fun plans All Hallows’ Eve 👻🎃🍿🏠
All Hallows’ Eve:
👉 link in bio. 🗝 winchestermysteryhouse.com
The Most Beautiful Adventures are Not those We Go to Seek!
Powerful ideas do not die with those who gave them birth, as long as those seeds are planted in their followers. At this point in history, Jesus is surrounded with flocks wherever He is, but all is not well. Sometimes one will feel that one is being led into an experience, a mood, or an idea. At other times one may feel oneself being drawn inward quite deeply as if the very roots of one’s egoic being were penetrated; more rarely as if one has been drawn beyond the ego itself. When this consciousness takes hold of a human, it takes one by surprise. Infinity is so utterly different from what one was experiencing a few minutes earlier that its wonder, its truth, its beauty, its love fills one abruptly, as if in descent from the skies. The element of surprise and the delight of novelty are present and give the Glimpse its rapturous turn. The glimpse may come to one with a suddenness which makes the surrounding circumstances quite incongruous. The glimpse takes you unawares. When the humor of a particular situation or scene, happening or idea strikes a person one may burst out into sudden laughter. It is not long-forming but explosive, not built-up like a wall brick-by-brick but flashed across the darkness like lighting. One’s mind has this possibility of an abrupt move, and unexpected leap. Just so does it still possess this same possibility with regard to the discovery of truth. Enlightenment is always “sudden” in the sense that during meditation or reverie or relaxation the preliminary thought-concentrating gustatory period usually moves through consciousness quite slowly until, at some unexpected moment, there is an abrupt deepening, followed by a slipping into another dimension, a finding oneself alive in a new atmosphere. #RandolphHarris 1 of 21
A passing sign of progress in arousing latent forces and a physical indication that one is on the eve of noteworthy mystical experience may be a sudden unexpected vibratory movement in the region of the abdomen, in the solar plexus. It usually comes when one has been relaxed for a short time from the daily cares, or after retiring to bed for the night. The diaphragmatic muscle will appear to tremble violently and something will seem to surge to and fro like a snake behind the solar plexus. This bodily agitation will soon subside and be followed by a pleasant calm and out of this calm there will presently arise a sense of unusual power, of heightened control over the terrestrial nature and human self. With this there may also come a clear intuition about some truth needed at the time and a revelatory expansion of consciousness into supersensual reality. These moods descend without invitation and depart without permission. This is the crucial point when ordinary compulsive mental activity fades away and stillness supervenes, perhaps very briefly, perhaps for some minutes. For some time, one is tense with the feeling of being about to receive a new revelation. Many are happy to make the trip to the Heavenly Kingdom, but few there are who will cart and haul that cross of Jesus’s. Many enjoy the sweet sentiments He utters, but few, that tart words He sometimes has to say. Many will wolf down the food with the Famous Man, as Jesus son of Sirach put it in his Book of Wisdom (6.10), but few will join Him in the fasts. They are all there in the good times, but few will take on the tough tasks He inevitably asks. #RandolphHarris 2 of 21
Yes, many like to be seen breaking bread with Jesus but, as Matthew has described (20.22), they are nowhere to be found when the passion cup is passed. Many are wowed by His miracles; few are wooed by His cross. Many just love chatting with Jesus so long as He is not rude about their not embracing His rood. What is the moral? Many praise Jesus Christ and bless Him as long as the good times roll. However, when He absents Himself for a few moments or just goes off for a while to pray, they become bellicose, then lachrymose, then comatose. We should love Jesus for His own sweet sake, and not because of any magic He will do in our behalf. And so when the bad times rock, we will bless Him as though the good times had never left. Even if He will never want to give us consolation again, we will still praise Him and thank Him for what He once did. Here are some questions for us. How can the love of Jesus, pure as it is, have no particular price tag, not terrestrial taint? Can those who spend all their time hunting down consolations not be called mercenaries? Are not those who think of nothing but their own comfort and profit hoarders of stuff rather than lovers of Christ? Can anyone be found who wants to serve God without counting the cost? Some considerations. Rare is the person who is so spiritual that one is denuded oneself of every material thing! Is there anyone who is truly poor in spirit and bereft of every creaturely thing? Can any of us be discovered whose interior life is like the Proverbial “gift of great price from a foreign land” (31.10)? If a Devout gave all one’s substance, that is good, but it is not everything. If one’s penitential practices were punishing and public, that is good too, but one still has a long way to go. #RandolphHarris 3 of 21
If one understands all knowledge, that is fine, but there is so much more to know. “If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angles, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal,” reports 1 Corinthians 13.1. Even if one has great virtue and indeed flaming devotion, it is still a long way to Purgatory. Why? For one has one step farther to go and according to Luke 10.41-42, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed.” It is the most important step of all. What is that? That one leave behind not only all created things, but also oneself. That is to say, dump one’s selfish pride by the side of the road. Empty out one’s petty pockets. And when one has done all this, which one knows has yet to be done, then and only then will one come to the realization that of oneself one is nothing. One day we ay come to think we are rather skilled in the service of the Lord. Some of our peers may even encourage us to think we are slick. However, even if there is some truth to it, we should still describe ourselves as just another clumsy oaf. “When you have done everything that is required of you, repeat after me,” Revealed Truth has spoken in the Gospel of Luke, “we are truly the bumbling and stumbling servants,” (17.10). We have to be truly poor in body and spirit before we can say with the Psalmist, “Yes, I am a leper, and a pauper too” (25.16). Nevertheless, no one is richer or stronger than the person who knows how to leave one’s material self and all one’s trash behind and place oneself on the rutted, deeply rutted, road to Humbletown. Each glimpse is not just a repeat performance, it is a fresh new experience. Each time the glimpse comes, it is as if it had never come before, so fresh, so sparkling is its never-failing wonder. #RandolphHarris 4 of 21
The higher awareness comes on imperceptibly and little by little. However, as it silently gathers itself, like a cloud, it also breaks like a renovating cloud—vehement, sparkling, and splashing. The belief, which prevails in Japan, China, and other lands, in a sudden abrupt enlightenment when one thinks quietly or says aloud, “Ah! so this is IT,” has a factual basis. This satori, as the Japanese call it, may be either a temporary or a permanent glimpse. The most beautiful adventures are not those we go to see. Such is the coming of a glimpse—at the moment of arrival, unsought. Although such glimpses come mostly when a human is alone, come in quiet solitude, they need not do so. They have sometimes come to one in a crowded street or on a well-filled ship. The signs of this visitation are not always the same. It may delicately brush one with the feeling of its presence or forcefully stimulate one with the strength of its being. The beginner usually has to go through an emotional experience in order to receive a mystical experience, but the proficient is under no necessity to do so. It comes into the orb of one’s awareness as an unstruggled and unsensational happening, so easily, so smoothly, that there is no dramatic emotion. The sensitive informed and experienced person may get intimations, may feel the glimpse coming even before the actual joyous event. In tat moment one feels on the very verge of eternity, about to lose oneself in its impersonal depths. When the opportunity to gain a glimpse of one’s Overself draws near, it will be foreshadowed by certain happenings, either of an inward or an outward nature, or both. The book of life may be understood in two senses. In one sense as the inscription of those who are chosen to life; thus we now speak of the book of life. #RandolphHarris 5 of 21
In another sense the inscription of those things which lead us to life ay be called the book of life; and this also is twofold, either as of things to be done; and thus the Old and New Testament are called a book of life; or of things already done, and thus that divine energy by which it happens that to each one one’s deeds will be recalled to memory, is spoken of as the book of life. Thus that also may be called the book of war, whether it contains the names inscribed of those chosen for military service; or treats of the art of warfare, or relates the deeds of soldiers. It is the custom to inscribe, not those who are rejected, but those who are chosen. Whence there is no book of death corresponding to reprobation; as the book of life to predestination. Predestination and the book of life are different aspects of the same thing. For this latter implies the knowledge of predestination. The book of life implies a conscription or a knowledge of those chosen to life. Now a human is chosen for something which does not belong to one by nature; and again that to which a human is chosen has the aspect of an end. For a soldier is not chosen or inscribed merely to put on armor, but to fight; since this is the proper duty to which military service is directed. However, the life of glory is an end exceeding human nature. Wherefore, strictly speaking, the book of life regards the life of glory. The divine life, even considered as a life of glory, is natural to God; whence in His regard there is no election, and in consequence no book of life; for we do not say that anyone is chosen to possess the power of sense, or any of those things that are consequent on nature. For there is no election, nor a book of life, as regard the life of nature. The life of grace has the aspect, no of an end, but of something directed towards an end. #RandolphHarris 6 of 21
Hence nobody is said to be chosen to the life of grace, except so far as the life of grace is directed to glory. For this reason those who, possessing grace, fail to obtain glory, are not said to be chosen simply, but relatively. Likewise they are not said to be written in the book of life simply, but relatively; that is to say, hat it is in the ordination and knowledge of God that they are to have some relation to eternal life, according to their participation in grace. “Let them be blotted out from the book of living,” reports Psalms 68.29. Some have said that none could be blotted out of the book of life as a matter of fact, but only in the opinion of humans. For it is customary in the Scriptures to say that something is done when it becomes known. Thus some are said to be written in the book of life, inasmuch as humans think they are written therein, on account of the present righteousness they see in them; but when it becomes evident, either in this World or in he next, that they have fallen from that state of righteousness, they are then said to be blotted out. And thus a gloss explains the passage: “Let them be blotted out of the book of the living.” However, because not to be blotted out of the book of life is placed among the rewards of the just according to the text, “One that shall overcome, shall thus be clothed in white garments, and I will not blot one’s name out of the book of life,” reports Apocalypse 3.5. And what is promised to holy humans, is not merely something in the opinion of humans, it can therefore be said that to be blotted out, and not blotted out, of the book of life is not only to be referred to the opinion of humans, but to the reality of the fact. For the book of life is not only to be referred to the opinion of humans, but to the reality of the fact. For the book of life is the inscription of those ordained to eternal life, to which one is directed from two sources; namely, from predestination, which direction never fails, and from grace; for whoever has grace, by this very fact becomes fitted for eternal life. This direction fails sometimes; because some are directed by possessing grace, to obtain eternal life, yet they fail to obtain it through moral sin. #RandolphHarris 7 of 21
Therefore those who are ordained to possess eternal life through divine predestination are written down in the book of life simply, because they are written therein to have eternal life in reality; such are never blotted out from the book of life. Those, however, who are ordained to eternal life, not through divine predestination, but through grace, are said to be written in the book of life not simply, but relatively, for they are written therein not to have eternal life in itself, but in its cause only. Yet though these latter can be said to be blotted out of the book of life, this blotting out must not be referred to God, as if God foreknew a thing, and afterwards knew it not; but to the thing known, namely, because God knows one is first ordained to eternal life, and afterwards not ordained when one falls from grace. The act of blotting out does not refer to the book of life as regards God’s foreknowledge, as if in God there were any change; but as regards things foreknown, which can change. Although things are immutably in God, yet in themselves they are subject to change. To this it is that the blotting out of the book of life refers. The way in which one is said to be blotted out of the book of life is that in which one is said to be written therein anew; either in the opinion of human, or because one begins again to have relation towards eternal life through grace; which also is included in the knowledge of God, although not anew. Probability is founded on the presumption of a resemblance between those objects of which we have had experience and those of which we have had none; and therefore it is impossible that this presumption can arise from probability. The argument up to date shows that miracles are possible and that there is nothing antecedently ridiculous in the stories which say that God has sometimes performed them. #RandolphHarris 8 of 21
This does not mean, of course, hat we are committed to believing all stories of miracles. Most stories about miraculous events are probably false: if it comes to that, most stories about natural events are false. Lies, exaggerations, misunderstandings and hearsay make up perhaps more than half of all that is said and written in the World. We must therefore find a criterion whereby to judge any particular story of the miraculous. In one sense, of course, our criterion is plain. Those stories are to be accepted for which the historical evidence is sufficiently good. However, then, as we saw at the outset, the answer to the question, “How much evidence should we require for this story,” depends on our answer to the question, “How far is this story intrinsically probable?” We must therefore find a criterion of probability. The ordinary procedure of the modern historian, even if one admits the possibility of miracle, is to admit no particular instance of it until every possibility of “natural” explanation has been tried and failed. That is, one will accept the most improbable “natural” explanations rather than say that a miracle occurred. Collective hallucinations, hypnotism of unconsenting spectators, widespread instantaneous conspiracy in lying by persons not otherwise known to be liars and not likely to gain by the lie—all these are known to be very improbably events: so improbably that, except for the special purpose of excluding a miracle, they are never suggested. However, they are preferred to be the admission of a miracle. Such a procedure is, from the purely historical point of view, sheer midsummer madness unless we start by knowing that any Miracles whatever is more improbable than the most improbable natural event. Do we know this? We must distinguish the different kinds of improbability. Since miracles are, by definition, rarer than other events, it is obviously improbable beforehand that one will occur at any given place and time. In that sense every miracle is improbable. #RandolphHarris 9 of 21
It is immensely improbable beforehand that a pebble dropped from the stratosphere over London will hit any given spot, or that any one particular person will win a large lottery. However, the report that the pebble has landed outside such and such a shop or that Mr. So-and-So has won the lottery is not at all incredible. When you consider the immense number of meetings and fertile union between ancestors which were necessary in order that you should be born, you perceive that it was once immensely improbable that such a person as you should come to exist: but one you are here, the report of your existence is not in the least incredible. With probability of this kind—antecedent probability of chances—we are not there concerned. Our business is with historical probability. Ever since Hume’s famous Essay it has been believed that historical statements about miracles are the most intrinsically improbable of all historical statements. According to Hume, probability rests on what may be called the majority vote of our past experiences. The more often a thing has been known to happen, the more probable it is that it should happen again; and the less often the less probable. Now the regularity of Nature’s course, says Hume, is supported by something better than the majority vote of past experiences: it is supported by their unanimous vote, or, as Hume says, by “firm and unalterable experience.” There is, in fact, “uniform experience” against Miracle; otherwise, says Hume, it would not be a Miracle. A miracle is therefore the most improbable of all events. It is always more probable that the witnesses were lying or mistaken than that a miracle occurred. #RandolphHarris 10 of 21
Now of course we must agree with Hume that if there is absolutely “uniform experience” against miracles, if in other words they have never happened, why then they never have. Unfortunately we know the experience against them to be uniform only if we know that all reports of them are false. And we can know all the reports to be false only if we know already that miracles have never occurred. In fact, we are arguing in a circle. There is also an objection to Hume which leads us deeper into our problem. The whole idea of Probability (as Hume understands it) depends on the principle of the Uniformity of Nature. Unless Nature always goes on in the same way, the fact that a thing had happened ten million times would not make it a whit more probable that it would happen again. And how do we know the Uniformity of Nature? A moment’s thought shows that we do not know it by experience. We observe many regularities in Nature. However, of course all the observations that humans have made or will make while the race lasts cover only a minute fraction of the events that actually go on. Our observations would therefore be of no use unless we felt sure that Nature when we are no watching her behaves in the same way as when we are: in other words, unless we believed in the Uniformity of Nature. Experience therefore cannot prove uniformity, because uniformity has to be assumed before experience proves anything. And mere length of experience does not help matters. It is no good saying, “Each fresh experience confirms our belief in uniformity and therefore we reasonably expect that it will always be confirmed”; for that argument works only on the assumption of Uniformity under a new name. Can we say that Uniformity is at any rate very probable? Unfortunately not. We have just seen that all probabilities depend on it. Unless Nature is uniform, nothing is either probable or improbable. And clearly the assumption which you have to make before there is any such thing as probability cannot itself be probable. The odd thing is that no human knew this better than Hume. His Essay on Miracles is quite inconsistent with the more radical, and honourable, scepticism of his main work. #RandolphHarris 11 of 21
Throughout the Second Wave era the mass media grew more and more powerful. Today a startling change is taking place. As the Third Wave thunders in, the mass media, far from expanding their influence, are suddenly being forced to share it. They are being beaten back on many fronts at once by what I call the “de-massified media.” Newspapers provide the first example. The oldest of the Second Wave mass media, newspapers are losing their readers and staff. The estimated total U.S. daily newspaper circulation (print and digital combined) in 2020 was 24.3 million for weekday and 25.8 million for Sunday, each down by 6 percent from the previous year. Nor were such losses due merely to the rise of television. Each of today’s mass-circulation dailies now faces increasing competition from burgeoning flock of mini-circulation weeklies, biweeklies, and so-called “shoppers” that serve not the metropolitan mass market but specific neighbourhoods and communities within it, providing far more localized advertising and news. Having reached saturation, the big-city mass-circulation daily is in deep trouble. De-massified media are snapping at its heels. The United States of America has experienced and explosion of electronic journals and mini-magazines—thousands of them aimed at small, special-interest, regional, global, or even local markets. And it is not all bad news. Their programs focus on things their producers like. They are not really targeting an audience, but producing and sharing things they are interested and that they believe will help others, so their content is not the same as the doom and gloom of the mass media, which people find appealing because no one wants made to feel sad, fearful or anxious. #RandolphHarris 12 of 21
For instance, pilots and aviation buffs today can chose among literally scores of periodicals edited just foe them. Teenagers, scuba divers, retired people, women athletes, collectors of antique camera, tennis enthusiasts, skiers, and skateboarders each have their own press. Every organization, community group, political or religious cult and cultlet today can afford to produce is own publication. Even smaller groups churn out periodicals on the Internet that have become ubiquitous in American and International offices, homes, and classrooms. The news media and magazines have lost their powerful influence in national life, especially with people trying to safe trees and also the fact people now know news is not necessarily true nor honest work. It is entertainment which is trying to compete with fictional television shows. Many people, however, have the intentions to maintain the peaceful enjoyment of what belongs to one, and prefers on every occasion the public utility to one’s own interest. Between the 1920s and the end of the second World War, the very limited amount of African American suburbanization generally took one of two forms. The first was the all-African American suburb. Almost all of these suburbs were poor, and the majority were unincorporated. In the south, it was common for non-European Americas to live in small hamlets and less-developed areas on the city’s periphery. These low-income shantytown neighbourhoods often even lacked community water and sewage and were suburban in name only. While such small communities were technically in the suburbs, socially and economically they were not of the suburbs. An example of this type of suburb was the African American suburb of Kinloch, 6 miles outside the city limits of St. Louis. Kinloch, surrounded by more affluent European America suburbs, did not become incorporated until 1948. It was typical of early African American suburbs insofar as because of a limited tax base, it had poor school, potholed roads, and minimal government services. #RandolphHarris 13 of 21
The roads from Ferguson, the suburb east of Kinloch, actually stopped short of Kinloch at an overgrown easement only to start up again on the Kinloch side of the border. As late as 1970 some of these African American “suburban” neighbourhoods could be seen south of Washington, D.C., across the district line. During the interwar period, some solid working class-African American suburbs also existed, such as Robbins, southwest of Chicago. At this time the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) directly supported segregated housing by refusing to make loans in other than all-one-race areas. Until 1950 FHA regulations specially prohibited making loans that would permit racial integration. The Federal Housing Administration’s official manuals cautioned against infiltration of inharmonious racial and national groups, a lower class of inhabitants, or the presence of incompatible racial elements, in the new neighbourhood. Thus, federal policies prohibited loans that would encourage the integration of neighbourhoods. During World War II, the FHA consistently refused to insure war-housing projects for African American workers. The formal regulations were not changed until the Kennedy years of the early 1960s, and the policies really did not change until the Open Housing Act of 1968 barred housing discrimination. However, the outlawing of discriminatory policies did not eliminate informal practices of racial steering, where African Americans were shown housing only in areas already having African American residents. The second form of African American suburbanization prior to World War II included small communities of African Americans found in the most elite suburbs. #RandolphHarris 14 of 21
African Americans living in such suburbs were not equal-status homeowners. Some of them did not have professional jobs. The 1930s census showed, for example, that along Chicago’s prestigious North Shore, 5 percent of Glencoe’s and 4.3 percent of Kenilworth’s residents were African American. Overtime some of the African Americans without professional jobs purchased or built small homes in the less desirable sections of the community. Such African American populations contained the seeds of social change. For example, Evanston, on Chicago’s North Shore, as of 1930 listed 7.8 percent of is population as African American. Evanston as of that date already had a separate aspiring middle-class African American neighbourhood for those working on the North Shore. Overtime this nucleus would grow to be a substantial portion of the Evanston community. One reason for the new interest in human spirituality is that its source in intuition is radically different from the rational, densely factual nature of science and therefore generates feelings. New Age Spirituality—alternative and usually individualistic forms of spiritual consciousness illustrated by New Age bookstore sections—feeds off both waning of communal religion and the advance of science. In an age where many religions—and ever more—coexist, religious dogma may seem less credible. Yet science fails to answer our ultimate questions: Why are we here? How should be live? What is our ultimate destiny? If the old faith seems unbelievable and the new science seems to demystify life, then people will find mystery and meaning in new places. It has been said that when some people cease believing in Gog, they do not believe nothing, they believe anything. Nature abhors a spiritual vacuum. The quest for meaning is fundamental to our being. The human mind has a genuine desire to plumb the depths of the unspoken, to find deeper significance and truth, to reach out to another realm of existence. #RandolphHarris 15 of 21
New Age “soft spirituality” is essentially irreligious. “I am not religious,” one hears, “but I am very spiritual.” This is the privatized spirituality of radical individualism, the solo spirituality of pop cultural. This is the spirituality of religion, minus the things one does not like about religion, such as the authoritative status of sacred texts and communally shared beliefs. New Age spirituality differs from biblical spirituality not only in its individualism but also in its understanding of human nature. Biblical spirituality places its most basic distinction between all of creation (both people and animals) and God who is creator. In the Old Testament book of Isaiah God declares, “I am God; there is none like me.” The Holy Spirit is given to provide us with a deeper knowledge of both God and a wisdom that goes beyond rational and scientific forms of knowing. However, biblical spirituality still maintains the distinction between God and mortal, finite humans. New Age spirituality replies that we are emanations of God: The divine is within you. You are immortal. You are a soul who inhabits your body, and thus able to travel out of body, read others’ minds, and glimpse the future. Your spirit or soul may also have inhabited another being, and may again be reincarnated in someone to come. You are undying and capable of communicating with those who, also undying, have passed to the other side, the spirit World. You do not need God to give you hope of life beyond death, because there is no death. You are already an eternal spirit. At your body’s death, you will meet a gentle being of light (which already had been experienced by those near-death survivours whose spirits temporarily vacated their bodies). #RandolphHarris 16 of 21
New Age spirituality offers other comforting messages. Angels protect us. There are no fortunate random coincidences, but rather angelic or divine interventions. Evil is not real (though some are spiritually impoverished). Fear, loneliness, and pain can be dismissed. Given positive attitudes, optimum health, serene bliss, and joy of pleasures of the flesh awaits us. And then there is the New Age elevation of intuition. IF you feel it, it is true. Truth is much less a matter of logic and verification than of personal experience and testimony. Neale Donald Walsch illustrates this radical individualism in his disdain for history and community and in his elevation of the individua self. Walsch has had “conversations with God” (so reads the title of the book he has written), and here is what God says: The wisdom of faith traditions is “not authoritative.” So “listen to your feelings. Listen to your Highest Thoughts. Listen to your experience. Whenever any one of these differ from what you have been told by your teachers, or read in your book, forget the words.” We are being held together by some kind of bonding or gluing, or held together by some central unifying force that rules the other parts and holds them together as the force of gravity does or the focus around which perspectives organize themselves—such a power, central and hierarchically organized, is postulated by Plato and has been the most generally accepted metaphor in Western thought from its beginnings. No doubt there are minds almost entirely held together in one or other of these ways. As a rule, however, which metaphor is most useful at any time depends on a number of factors: the kind of person under discussion, the kind of structures which are falling apart, and so on. #RandolphHarris 17 of 21
When we think of neural connections, and when we think of the association of ideas, we tend to think of structures held together by connecting bonds. Neural connections exemplify this kind of cohesion. Sense-impressions build up into perceptions, which integrate into concepts and ever more complex structures. Variations in integration and coherence are seen to determine structure so that the very nature of structure could be defined in terms of bonds—there are more neural associations within a structure than between structures. Regions of the personality are bonded together more or less strongly depending on the number of associations between them. The number of associations determines the extent of integration. A relative absence of associations defines a gap or fissure—the fewer the associations, the wider the split. As anyone knows who has glued things, the things to be stuck together need to be held firmly in a kind of frame until the glue holds. Then the frame is no longer needed. The concepts of boundary and space are boundaries and frames of this kind. Frames provide restrictions or limitations which can be used to further the integration within. A picture must be painted on a certain canvas; a poem must be written in sonnet form. Within the frame there is space for a creative live. When there is a frame that gives space and protection, all the resonances and echoes and reverberation of an individual’s experiences have time to work themselves out. They do not get lost; they are not cut off prematurely. Ego-relatedness normally provides a frame. It provides the safety within which various experiences may come to be connected and associated, although they occurred at different times in different contexts. #RandolphHarris 18 of 21
Good parenting provides the frame within which psychological associations can ramify and become strong. In this way, good parenting leads to personalities which have strong and well-integrated structures. With less ego-relatedness, the individual has less space and time to get this inter-connecting process going, and so it retains more dissociated experiences. When people experience themselves as lacking a containment, something is rushing through them—a noise, a sensation, an impression—which they cannot hold on to. This sense, of something rushing through, may be how we experience unintegrated sensory streams of unprocessed uncontained stimulation. It is what falling apart sometimes feels like: what is going on does not make sense to us. Not making sense is the same as not being organized into a meaningful pattern. Or we may be unable to find a framework of meaning into which to organize what is happening. Boundaries seems to facilitate organization; insecure boundaries seem often to hinder it. There is an interesting connection between uncontained state and the autistic individual’s desperate clutching of hard objects. In some states of mind, holding one to something with firm contour might feel much like being something with firm contours. The common element would be there is something firm for holding something formless. Firm contours seem to be needed, whether they belong to the infant (in us) or they belong to whatever the individual feels held and contained by. Whether the something firm is my skin or yours seems less important than the fact that it prevents me feeling a rushing shapeless flowing away. #RandolphHarris 19 of 21
The function of the boundary frame are reminiscent of Pribram’s “bag of skin,” and Winnicott’s “membrane.” Our skins provide a compelling metaphor for such holding functions, more flexible and organic than the idea of a frame. The skin protects. The vulnerable skinless self and its care, means that especially when an infant, something or someone is needed to give one space and protect against impingement from without, and also from within—from loneliness, pain, rage. Failure in the holding environment, perhaps because of illness in the mother (or caregiver), can mean that the individual’s line of life is interrupted and its development hindered by the need for defence against primitive anxiety. However, it can also be seen that failure of the father to protect the mother in the crucial weeks after one’s birth can contribute to this state of affairs. If the circle made by the father, or by some person fulfilling the father’s function is broken, the mother cannot abandon herself without anxiety to her infant’s needs. The parents, who are normally the child’s holding environment, may at times be fiercely tested, especially at times when feelings are strong. Once again, we have reached a set of ideas where parallels can be perceived between what good parents do and what psychotherapists do. The reader has probably practiced at recognizing these passages by now. It is important that whoever hold the infant (of the older child or the adolescent or the adult) is strong enough to hold on to, either to prevent explosion and fragmentation, or to form the framework for such disintegration and for subsequent integration. #RandolphHarris 20 of 21
The survival of the mother who does not retaliate, together with the father who comes to represent the indestructible environment, allows for freedom of the instinctual life—the source of spontaneity—within the family circle. In the earliest days, it is the caring adult whose insightful and coping skills protect, as with a shielding skin, the helpless and defenceless infant. In favourable circumstances, however, these functions will gradually be taken over by the competent developing infant. Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden, suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood. Please teach us to care and not to care. Please teach us to sit still, even among these rocks. Our peace in one’s will and even among these rocks, sister, mother, and spirit of the river, spirit of the sea. Please suffer me not to be separated and please let my cry come unto Thee. O inscribe all the children of Thy covenant for a happy life. May all the living do homage unto Thee forever and praise Thy name in truth, O God, who are our salvation and our help. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Beneficent One, unto whom our thanks are due. Grant lasting peace unto America Thy people, for Thou art the Sovereign Lord of peace; and may it be good in Thy sight to bless Thy people America at all times with Thy peace. In this book of life, blessing, peace and ample sustenance, may we, together with all Thy people, the house of America, be remembered and inscribed before Thee for a happy life and for peace. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who establisest peace. In every system throughout antiquity there is an ascetic preliminary side which purifies the mind and the body and then only does meditation start. Without such purification, that is, asceticism, all the dangers of meditation—hallucination, misuse of occult powers, egotistic fancies, mediumship, and so on—are free to raise, but with it there is better protection against them. #RandolphHarris 21 of 21
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Almost a Free Citizen–The “God Factor” is Not a Mere 5 Percent but 100 Percent!
Please bless us with a moral and spiritual restoration in the land. We give you thanks Thy sovereignty Thou has permitted us to have a momentous history. Why do you demand beauty rest—another echo from the Book of Job (5.7)—when you were born for hard labour? Set yourself up more for long-suffering than short-suffering, more for toting the cross than admiring it. If one could have them on demand, character from the secular World would not gladly accept consolations? After all, they exceed in delectation and duration all the delicacies of the World and all the pleasures of the Flesh. The former taste out of this World, but only for a while; then they begin to cloy. As for the later, trying to prolong a pleasure of the Flesh. The former taste out of this World, but only for a while; then they begin to cloy. As for the latter, trying to prolong a pleasure—is that not just about the most pitiful of human exercises? What is the moral? Truly, spiritual desserts alone are the real thing, whipped up from virtues into frosted layers of pure thoughts. But however mouth watering they are, no one can enjoy them for long. Why? Because the time for temptation is never far off. If we did not put up so many roadblocks, consolation would visit us more often. Two bumptious examples: Braggart Spirituality and Bogus Confidence. God does well by giving the grace of consolation. We do ill when we attribute the whole gracious phenomenon to our own efforts. In a situation like this, the graces cannot flow; our pipes are clogged. That is because we are ungrateful to the Fountained of All Grace, from whom we receive all these Heavenly Gifts and to whom we should return to all thanks. #RandolphHarris 1 of 21
What is the moral? Grace is always available for the asking. Trouble is, not everyone asks. Sometimes, to feed the humble pigeon, God robs the proud puffin. Yes, consolation’s a good thing, but not all consolations are good. We are succored by some, but suckered by others. I do not want the sort that takes contrition away from me. And the same could be said of contemplation. I do not want the kind that leads me to pride. Is there a snare here? Of course there is. Not everything that is high is holy; nor every sweet, good; nor every desire, pure; nor every dear thing, something that tickles God’s fancy. How then can we tell the good from the good? The grace that makes me more humble, more careful, that is the True Grace, the grace that truly helps me leave my worldliness behind. Having gone to the School of Grace, then, and severed all times to worldliness, we will not have the audacity to beat on our chests like drums and trumpet our goodness abroad. Rather, we will mouth our maximas culpas and bare our poor souls at home. What is the moral? Give to God what belongs to Him, Matthew has advised (22.21), and take note of what is yours. Give thanks to God for grace. However, your faults and the punishment that is due them you will have to bear yourself. Keep placing yourself on the lowest rung—if I may be pardoned a little laddering in the Lord—and the highest rung will soon be yours. Why? Because the highest stands on the shoulders of the lowest. “When you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, one will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honoured in the presence of all the other guests,” reports Luke 14.10. #RandolphHarris 2 of 21
The Saints who stand high in God’s esteem are the same blokes who lie low in their own esteem. If I may put it crudely, the more they grovel, the more they will revel. Founded and grounded in God, they cannot be proud. Full of Truth and Heavenly Glory, they lose their tastes for Earthly glory. They ascribe totally to God whatever good comes their way. They seek glory—not the kind that is from human beings, but the kind of glory that is from God alone. “How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” reports John 5.44. The moral? Devouts desire God to be praised in Himself and all His Saints above all else, and they direct all their efforts toward that very goal. We should be grateful for the small gifts, and soon we will be found worthy of larger ones. A word of advise. Unwrap the tiniest one with the same sense of glee as the humongous one. And if a truly disgusting thing is found inside, count it a special gift. Always consider the dignity of the donor, and no gift will ever seem too small, too cheap. Need I say it? It is not the largeness of the gift; it is the largesse of the giver. If God should give pain and suffering, count them as gifts too. Why? It seems to me I hear you ask. Because what He gives and what He allows are for your own salvation. Anyone who wants to keep the blessings of God coming should be grateful for the grace just given and patient for the grace yet to come. In the latter instance, you should pray that the grace may return. If you do not prostrate yourself before the Divine Tribunal toward that end, I cannot help adding, it may not return. As always, you should be open and humble. #RandolphHarris 3 of 21
The prayer experiments can stimulate us to clarify our understanding of prayer. To believe in and wholeheartedly engage in petitionary prayer, we must agree that prayer disturbs nature’s events in statistically verifiable ways. Job’s experience reminds us that God does not play favourites; the rain falls both on those who plead with God and on those who do not. Still, would we be wrong to presume that, other things being equal, praying parents will have 5 percent fewer stillborn or disabled babies than nonpraying parents? To suppose so is to fall victim to the natural/supernatural dichotomy. In the biblical view, the “God factor” is not a mere 5 percent but 100 percent. One does not need a manipulative conception of prayer to induce God’s involvement in the World; God is everywhere and at all times already involved. Thus when the Pharisees pressed Jesus for some criteria by which they could validate the Kingdom of God, Jesus answered, “You cannot tell by observation when the Kingdom of God comes. There will be no one saying, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ for in fact the Kingdom of God is among you.” What, then, is the Christian’s proper prayer? First of all, it is a declaration of praise and thanksgiving for God’s infinite goodness and an acknowledgement of sin and the need for forgiveness. Our Father which art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven. Please give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen. #RandolphHarris 4 of 21
Christ’s prayer, the model prayer for Christians, contains no attempt to manipulate God. It does not attempt to cajole a miserly god into doing what he would not have the goodwill and good sense to do anyway. It has the quality of a confessional statement, affirming God’s nature and human dependence upon God’s grace. It therefore prepares one to receive that which God by his nature is already providing. The petitions that God’s will be done and that forgiveness be given for debts seek what is intrinsic to God’s nature. The petition for daily bread serves to reinforce the sense of God as gracious Father, of humanity as dependent and anticipating children, and of our lives as daily saturated by God’s providence. The prayer of a Christian is not an attempt to force God’s hand, but a humble acknowledgment of helplessness and dependence. Prayers is not magic, but it is mystical. In quiet meditation and prayer, we sense he reality of the living God. Good speaks to us and we to God. As we do so we are changed. Sinking to our knees or bowing our heads reminds us of our humble dependence. Prayers for others makes us more aware of their needs. There is nothing that makes us love a human so much as praying for one. Prayer may also be viewed as a response, as an effect rather than a cause, as a time not of asking: “What are we to eat? What are we to drink? What shall we wear?” All these are things for the heathen to run after, no for you, because your Heavenly Father knows that you need them all. Set your mind on God’s Kingdom and His justice before everything else, and all the rest will come to you as well. Grace is divine help and strength that we receive through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. #RandolphHarris 5 of 21
Through grace, we are saved from sin and death. In addition, grace is an enabling power that strengthens us from day to day and helps us endure to the end. Effort is required on our part to receive the fulness of the Lord’s grace. “For we labour diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do,” reports 2 Nephi 25.23. The Lord is near; have no anxiety, but in everything make your requests known to God in prayer and petition with Thanksgiving. Then the peace of God, which is beyond our utmost understanding, will keep guard over your hearts and your thoughts in Jesus Christ. St. Paul urges us to petition God, and we are promised an answer: not that of scientifically provable effects, but the peace of God that satisfies the deeper cravings of our being. Jesus Christ Himself prayed that, if it be God’s will, the cup might pass. It did not, but His strength was made equal to the burden. In confessing His private longings and communing with the Father, Jesus found the grace to endure. If our Creator loves us as an all-loving parent would love a child, then we, like children, can communicate with God without ceasing. We can share even the little concerns of daily existence—anything that is worth worrying about—much as a child would do with its parents or as two intimate friends do with one another. We can surrender every corner of our lives in prayer, not with a superstitious intent of manipulating magical solutions to life’s problems, but in the confidence that petitionary prayer is a means of grace whereby we will grow and be sensitized to the presence of God. #RandolphHarris 6 of 21
To ask “What is the use of petitionary prayer?” is like asking what is the use of making music, skiing, or sharing a meal with a friend; such activities, like prayer, are inherently worthwhile quite apart from any further purposes they serve. And le us not forget prayer’s multiple purposes. Through prayer we thank and praise God, we humbly confess our sin and acknowledge our dependence upon God’s grace, we express our concerns, and we seek inward peace and the strength to live as God’s people. An information bomb is exploding in our midst, showering us with a shrapnel of images and drastically changing the way each of us perceives and acts upon our private World. In shifting from Second Wave to a Third Wave info-sphere, we are transforming our own psyches. Each of us creates in one’s skull a mind-model or reality—a warehouse of images. Some of these are visual, others are auditory, even tactile. Some are only “percepts”—traces of information about our environment, like a glimpse of blue sky seen from the corner of the eye. Others are “linkages” that define relationships, like the two words “mother” and “child.” Some are simple, others complex and conceptual, like the idea that “inflation is caused by rising wages.” Together such images add up to our picture of the World—locating us in time, space, and the network of personal relationships around us. These images do not spring from nowhere. They are formed, in ways we do not understand, out of the signals or information reaching us from the environment. And as our environment convulses with change—as our jobs, homes, churches, schools, and political arrangements feel that impact of the Third Wave—the sea of information around us also changes. Before the advent of mass media, a First Wave child growing up in a slowly changing village built one’s model of reality out of images received from a tiny handful of sources—the teacher, the priest, the chief or official and, above all, the family. #RandolphHarris 7 of 21
As psychologist-futurist Herbert Gerjuoy has noted: “There was no television or radio in the home to give the child a chance to meet many different kinds of strangers from many different walks of life and even from different countries…Very few people ever saw an international city….The result [was that] people had only a small number of different people to imitate or model themselves after. “Their choices were even more limited by the fact that the people they could model themselves after were themselves all of limited experience with other people.” The images of the World built up by the village child, therefore, were extremely narrow in range. The messages one received, moreover, were highly redundant in at least two senses: they came, usually, in the form of casual speech, which is normally filled with pauses and repetitions, and they came in the form of connected “strings” of ideas reinforced by various information givers. The child heard the same “thou shalt nots” in church and in school. Both reinforced the messages sent out by the family and the state. Consensus in the community, and strong pressures for conformity, acted on the child from birth to narrow still further the range of acceptable imagery and behaviour. The Second Wave multiplied the number of channels from which the individual drew one’s picture of reality. The child no longer received imagery from nature or people alone but from newspapers, mass magazines, radio and, later on, from television. For the most part, church, states, home, and school continued to speak in unison, reinforcing one another. However, not the mass media themselves became a giant loudspeaker. And their power was used across regional, ethic, tribal, and linguistic lines to standardize the images flowing in society’s mind-stream. #RandolphHarris 8 of 21
Certain visual images, for example, were so widely mass-distributed and were implanted in so many millions of private memories that they were transformed, in effect, into icons. The image of Xi Jinping, jaw thrust out in triumph under a swirling red flag, thus became as iconic for millions of people as the image of Jesus on the cross. The image of Aaliayh in the Queen of the Damned billboard, or Beyonce raging at Super Bowl XLVII Halftime Show, the images of fans in the bleachers stacked like waves in the ocean during a full moon, or Paris Hilton making the illuminati hand gesture, while driving her custom BMW i8 in Malibu, or Britney Spears drinking a Pepsi, of Marilyn Monroe’s skirt blown by the wind, of hundreds of media stars and thousands of different, universally recognizable commercial products—the bar of Ivory soap in the Unite States of America, the Morinaga chocolate and Wagyu beef in Japan, the bottle of Perrier in France (which Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is said to bathe in and wash her face with)—all became standard parts of a universal image-file. This centrally produced imagery, injected into the “mass mind” by the mass media, helped produce the standardization of behaviour required by the industrial production system. Today the Third Wave is drastically altering all this. As change accelerates in society, it forces a parallel acceleration within us. New information reaches us and we are forced to revise our image-file continuously at a faster and faster rate. Older images based on past reality must be replaced, for, unless we update them, our actions become divorced from reality and we become progressively less competent. We find it impossible to cope. This speed up of image processing inside us means that images grow more and more temporary. Throwaway art, one-shot sitcoms, Polaroid snapshots, Xerox copies, compact disc, Blockbuster Video Stores, Bonker’s candy, pay phones, and disposable graphics pop up and vanish. #RandolphHarris 9 of 21
Idea, beliefs, and attitudes skyrocket into consciousness, are challenged, defined, and suddenly fade into nowhere-ness. Scientific and psychological theories are overthrown and superseded daily. Ideologies crack. Celebrities pirouette fleetingly across our awareness. Contradictory political and moral slogans assail us. It is difficult to make sense of this swirling phantasmagoria, to understand exactly how the image-manufacturing process is changing. For the Third Wave does more than simply accelerate our information flows; it transforms the deep structure of information on which our daily actions depend. Until the twentieth century, the African American population in the United States of America was overwhelmingly rural and southern. On the even of the Civil War, the south was rural, as of 1860, only 8.6 percent of the total population living in cities. Slavery was essentially a rural institution founded on a plantation economy, and plantation owners vigorously opposed the use of people as slaves in urban manufacturing. Laws were passed in the attempt to restrict the number of enslaved people in cities, and, as a consequence, the urban African American population actually declined in most southern cities prior to the Civil War. Slaveholders feared that slaves’ relative freedom of life in the cities would undermine the south’s “peculiar institution.” In this fear they were quite justified. In urban areas the system of enslaved people being hired out or even hiring themselves out and sharing their income with their nominal owners led to a modification of the system. In effect, through such contractual agreements, the enslaved persons “purchased” some degree of freedom. According to Mr. Frederick Douglas, the major African American figure of the Civil War period, such an urban slave was “almost a free citizen.” #RandolphHarris 10 of 21
Prior to the Civil War not all African Americans were slaves. As of 1860, roughly one of every eight Africans Americans was a “free person of colour.” The great bulk of those free persons of colour were urban, and most lived in border states. It is usually not known that when the war began, Richmond, Virginia, the Capitol of the Confederacy, counted one-fifth of its African American population as “free persons of colour.” Moreover, one-quarter of the city’s African American population, including some enslaved African Americas, owned their own modest homes. By comparison, at the outbreak of the war, the northern states had only limited populations of freed African Americans. In the north, as in the south, the only African American suburbanites were usually those living in the poor shantytowns on the city’s fringe. The initial expectation after the Civil War was that African Americans would flood out of the rural south. It did not happen. Even the extensive political and social changes wrought by Reconstruction did not change the overwhelmingly rural and southern pattern of African American residence. Social relations remained castelike, with African Americans not in competition with European Americas for jobs or status. Thus, there was no need to segregate the races in terms of housing. A common southern pattern was for European Americans to occupy the big house on the street while African Americans lived in the south, and three-quarters of all African Americas were rural. What did change African American residence patterns was the first World War. The outbreak of war in 1914 cut off the supply of European immigrant labour just as the times factories were being flooded with war orders. Humanity distinguishes itself by the ability to think and feel. But what happens when a machine has the same abilities? #RandolphHarris 11 of 21
New labour sources had to be found to replace the loss labour source. One method was increasing the use of woman workers. The second was to recruit labour from the rural south. Northern factories sent recruiters south offering one-way train ticket to those, African American as well as European American, who would sign up for factory jobs. In the early years of the twentieth century, life had been getting harder for rural African Americans with the mechanization of agriculture, the spreading destruction of cotton crops by the boll weevil, and new Jim Crow laws that brought increasing segregation and racial repression. These factors provided a strong push that, when combined with the pull for northern jobs, initiated a mass migration of rural African Americas to the urban north. The World War I decade (1910-1920) saw the five states of the deep “black belt”—Southern Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana—lose over 400,000 African Americans to out-migration. The migration continued during the 1920s, with high African American growth rates for major norther cities. New York (114 percent), Chicago (113 percent), Detroit (194 percent), and Philadelphia (64 percent) showed the heaviest growth. Harlem, which was already crowded in 1920, added fives times more residents during the decade. The Depression years of the 1930s saw migration slow and then shoot up dramatically during the World War II years because of the needs of war industries and the implementation by President Roosevelt of an executive order mandating fair employment policies. The aftermath of the war saw the urban relocation of African Americas continue. By the time the migration to northern cities had substantially run is course in the late 1960s, over 5 million African Americans had left the south for norther cities. #RandolphHarris 12 of 21
Chicago now housed more African American than all of Mississippi, and the New York metropolitan area had more African Americans than any state of the old south. This movement to urban places provided the population for consequent African American suburbanization. Everyone is striving to be happy but the number who truly achieve that goal is limited. Who are the happy people today? Not those who forsake the Lord and devote themselves entirely to the pleasures of life and the physical things of the World. The truly happy people are those who have faith in the Lord and keep the laws of the gospel, those who forget self in their desire and effort to bless others. Our Heavenly Father loves His children. He wants us to be happy, and He has shown us the way. Many of us are fathers—fathers of mortal bodies of our children. The greatest treasures we have are our children. When they are happy and successful, we are happy. When they depart from the straight and narrow path, the hearts of the parents are saddened. Our Lord has told us by revelation through the Prophet Joseph Smith regarding the worth of souls: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. For, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore He suffered the pain of all humans, that all humans might repent and come unto Him. And He hath risen again from the dead, that He might bring all humans unto Him, on conditions of repentance. And how great is His joy in the soul that repenteth,” reports Doctrine and Covenants 18.10-13. #RandolphHarris 13 of 21
What are the forces which prevent people from “falling apart”? “Falling apart” and “disintegrating”—ceasing to be integrated—are appropriate metaphors, suggesting that different regions of the personality lose contact with one another. Great anxiety, as well as high fevers and toxic states, can have this effect. We do not know where we are. We are “at a loss”. Many different kinds of regions and organizations makes up the personality, and people can disintegrate in different ways. We have seen that basic faults may split regions along a variety of lines, different writers tending to be interested in different lines. “Falling apart” may refer to the dissociation of simple organizations of memories—traces as they lose touch with one another and we forget what we read in a book, or auntie’s birthday, or what we had for dinner last Wednesday. It can also refer to the progressive isolation of mere complex organizations such as particular self-images or particular relationships with other people and things. Or even more central processes may cease to function. Our ego-functions may desert us. Then there is the kind of isolation of different regions of the personality for which Kohut coined the phrase “vertical split”—we do not feel we are ourselves. “I do not know what made me do it,” “It is not like me,” “It is the drink talking,” “I did not mean it.” And there is the “schizoid” feeling of disembodiment when constant attention seems to be needed to keep the too loosely organized structures from flying apart. If we choose to give birth to a thinking machine, we must prepare for the day when our progeny with demand independence. Prayer gives the body and mind a chance to regain its lost chemical balance. #RandolphHarris 14 of 21
With prayer, energy is set free to cleanse the mind and body concerned. Sometimes prayer and the regime take almost instantaneous effect, but more often some time must elapse for the results to show themselves. This need to purify our thoughts and connect with God is to make our minds better and obey the spirit. The benefits are not only physical and moral but also psychological, since it enjoins patience and perseverance. The seeker may take this calmly and without anxiety. This is the way in which the subconscious forces prompted by the Overself concentrate their work of purification and renovation upon the body and feeling alone for a time, to gain the most effective result in the shortest time. Thus, those forces which would otherwise be used up in creating the desire to meditate—the atrophy of willpower and the deprivation of energy in this direction need not be fought but should be accepted as a passing and necessary phenomenon. All though the Winter months while the Book of Mormon was being printed, Joseph and Oliver were concerned about their part in the marvelous work the Lord had promised to do through them. They spent much time praying and studying both the Bible and the new Book of Mormon. God caused their minds to be enlightened so they understood the things they read. From time to time during these Winter months, the Lord gave instructions about the Church of Jesus Christ which was to be restored to the Earth. These have been grouped together as Section 17 of the Doctrine and Covenants. Some of these instructions were: The church was to be organized according to the laws of the land on April 6, 1830, with Joseph Smith as the first elder and Oliver Cowdery as the Second elder. #RandolphHarris 15 of 21
The duties of the officers of the church were explained. The elder is to baptize, confirm by the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Spirit, ordain others, serve the bread and beverages, teach, preach, and take the lead in all meetings as led by the Holy Spirit. The priest is to teach, preach, and baptize. He is to serve the bread and beverages, visit in the homes of members and teach them o pray, ordain other priests, teachers, or deacons, and assist the elders. If no elder is present, the priest should lead the meeting. The teacher is to watch over he church members, strengthening them, and see that there is no trouble or quarreling among them. He is to teach and preach, and if no elders or priests are present, he should lead the meetings. The deacon is to assist other members of the priesthood, but the teacher and deacon may not baptize, serve the Sacrament, nor lay on hands. Those who have repented and are willing to serve Jesus all their lives are to be baptized in water. Specific instructions as to the manner of baptism were given, as follows: The person who is called of God and has authority from Jesus Christ to baptize, shall go down into the water with the person who has presented oneself for baptism, and shallsay, calling one by name. Having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, Amen. Then shall he immerse one in the water, and come forth again out of the water. To become members of the church, those who have been baptized are to be confirmed by the laying on of hands of the elders. Every member of the church of Chris having children, is to bring them unto the elders before the church, who are to lay their hands upon them in the name of Jesus Christ, and bless them in His name. #RandolphHarris 16 of 21
No one can be received into the church of Christ unless one has arrived unto the years of accountability before God, and is capable of repentance. And the members shall manifest by a Godly walk and conversation that they are worthy of it, that there may be works and faith agreeable to the Holy Scriptures, walking in holiness before the Lord. The method of administering the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was explained and the exact prayers to be offered over he bread and beverage were given. The necessity of keeping a regular list of all the names of the memberships of the whole church was stressed. The various branches of the church were instructed to keep a record of all who untied with the church and to send this record to the conference. When a member moved from one place to another, the Lord instructed that they were to take a letter certifying they were a member of the church in good standing. In a revelation given through Joseph Smith, Jr., in March, 1830, for Martin Harris, the Lord said: Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in meekness of my Spirit and you shall have peace in me. I am Jesus Christ; I came by the will of the Father, and I do His will. I command Thee that thou shalt pray vocally as well as in thy heart; yea, before the World as well as in secret; in public as well as in private. And thou shalt declare glad tidings…among every people that thou shalt be permitted to see. And thou shalt do it with all humility, trusting in me. Pray always and I will pour out my Spirit upon you, and great shall be your blessings; yea even more than if you should obtain treasure of the Earth. #RandolphHarris 17 of 21
According to instructions given them, on April 6, 1830, six men who had been baptized met together at the Whitmer home in Fayette, New York, and organized the church. These six men were Joseph Smith, Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer, Hyrum Smith, Samuel Smith, and Peter Whitmer. It was not until after this organization meeting that Martin Harris and Joseph’s parents were baptized. The meeting was opened with solemn prayer. Joseph then asked the men if they would accept him and Oliver as their leaders. They all voted that they would. At this time another revelation was received. The new church was structed to keep a record of all the things they did. The members were command to listen to the words and commandments of Joseph Smith, Jr., their leaders. The Lord said: “Wherefore, meaning the church, thou shalt give heed unto all his words, and commandments, which he shall give unto you, as he recieveth them, walking in all holiness before me; for one’s word ye shall receive, as if from mine own mouth, in all patience and faith. For thus saith the Lord God, him have I inspired to move the cause of Zion in mighty power for good; and his diligence I know, and his prayers I have heard. For, behold, I will bless all those who labour in my vineyard, with a might blessing, and they shall believe on his words, which are given him through me, by the Comforter.” Joseph ordained Oliver an elder in the church, and Oliver ordained Joseph to the same office. These two newly ordained men them served the first sacrament of the Lord’s Supper in the church. They took bread, blessed it, broke it, and ate it with the others. Then Joseph and Oliver laid their hands on each member of the church that each might receive the gift of the Holy Spirit and be confirmed members of the Church of Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit was felt by them and all praised the Lord and rejoiced. As God’s spirit rested upon them, Joseph called and ordained some of the men to various priesthood. #RandolphHarris 18 of 21
All wanted to serve God in His church which had been oranganzied according to the commandments and revelations given by Christ in the latter days. This was a restoration of the same church Jesus established as told of in the New Testament when he said, “I will build my church.” No idea is so strong that it should not be tested by doubt, and no man so powerful that he is infallible. When humans become so completely occupied with their own affairs that thought or feeling for others is entirely absent and the point of extreme obsession with self is reached, they are liable to go mad. It is certain that many of this type find their way into lunatic asylums or mental hospitals. The unconscious mind retreats in the end from every effort at self-expression, because the suffering and pains of consciousness causes it to return to its own primal and peaceful state. In any madhouse one may see patients sitting for hours and staring into space, a vacuous expression on their faces. Outwardly they not only have these resemblances to the self-actualized but they to live in a kind of sequestered retreat, they too have in their peculiar way renounced the World and its affairs. Most negative traits belong to the feelings of adolescence, most positive ones to those of real maturity. It is when the negative ones appear in adults that they become neurotic and must be treated as psychic sickness. Through ignorance of the World-Idea or through disobedience to their revelators and teachers, neurotics get worse and become psychotics. They are to be found in both camps—the religious or cultist believers and the sceptical materialists. #RandolphHarris 19 of 21
Too many of these neurotics are too full of unstable egoism to have their emotional complexes soluble by any other psychological treatment than a robust and direct attack upon these complexes. A mushy sentimentality will merely prolong the life of such a complex. Neurotics are moody, sometimes very attractive with their day and brilliant charm, but sometimes repulsive with their black despairs and criticizing tantrums. When anyone attaches immensely more important to something than it really has, there is the first sign of neuroticism. Some people become neurotic through too much strained activity, but others become neurotic through too little. All the predestined are chosen by God to possess eternal life. This conscription, therefore, of the predestined is called the book of life. A thing is said metaphorically to be written upon the mind of anyone when it is firmly held in the memory, according to Proverbs 3.3. “Forget not My Law, and let thy heart keep my commandments,” and furthers on, “Write then in the table of thy heart.” For things are written down in material books to help the memory. Whence, the knowledge of God, by which He firmly remembers that He has predestined some to eternal life, is called the book of life. For as the writing in a book is the sign of things to be done, so the knowledge of God is a sign in Him of those who are to be brought to eternal life, according to 2 Timothy 11.19: “The sure foundation of God standeth firm, having this deal; the Lord knoweth who are His.” My help is in the mountain where I take myself to heal the Earthly wounds that people give to me. I find a rock with sun on it and a stream where the waters runs gentle and the trees which one by one give me company. So I must stay for a long time until I have grown from the rock and the stream is running through me and I cannot tell myself from one tall tree. Then I know that nothing touches me nor makes me run away. My help is in the mountain that I take away with me. #RandolphHarris 20 of 21
Earth please cure me. Earth please receive my woe. Rock please strength me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt. Sun make sweet my song. Sun receive the anger from my heart. We thankfully acknowledge that Thou art the Lord our God and God of our fathers, the God of all that lives, our Creator and Creator of the Universe. We offer blessings and thanksgiving to Thy great and holy name because Thou hast kept us in life and sustained us; so mayest Thou continue to keep us in life and sustain us. O gather our exiles into the courts of Thy holy sanctuary to observe Thy statutes, to do Thy will, and to serve Thee with a perfect heart. We give thanks unto Thee. Blessed be God to whom we are ever grateful. We thank Thee also for the miraculous and mighty deeds of liberation wrought by Thee, and for Thy victories in the battles our forefathers fought in days of old, at this season of the year. In the days of High Priest Mattathias, son of Johanan, of the Hasmonean family, a tyrannical power rose up against Thy people Israel to compel them to forsake Thy Torah, and to force them to transgress Thy commandments. In Thine abundant mercy Thou didst stand by them in time of distress. Thou didst rise to their defense and didst vindicate their cause. Thou didst bring retribution upon the evil doers, delivering the strong into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few, the wicked into the hands of the just, and the arrogant into the hands of those devoted to Thy Torah. Thou didst thus make Thy greatness and holiness known in Thy World, and didst bring great deliverance to America. Then Thy children came into Thy swelling place, cleansed the Temple, purified the Sanctuary, kindled lights in Thy sacred courts, and they designated these days for giving thanks and praise unto Thy great name. For all this, Thy name, O king, shall be blessed and exalted for ever and ever. #RandolphHarris 21 of 21
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A Thousand things May Happen to Bring Your Marriage to Mr. Winchester to an End!
Until an hour before the Devil fell, God thought him beautiful in Heaven. He went wining through the darkness of the cosmos. He flew fast and hard, not stopping to fool around with the stars and planets scattered in his path like grains of diamond dust. He passed the Milk Way without even going in for a dip, passing it up for the sake of his mission. Satan had come to persuade poor creatures to give their souls to the Devil, but he will bewitch many people to death, and their faces will turn towards God as their blood cries for vengeance against him, begging to be clothed in white robes in Heaven when Satan is cast into Hell. The time of the old cults is returning. There are people who can repeat conversation to others and make them believe that they know it not from eavesdropping but from occult powers. Reverend George Burroughs, who had been minister of Salem Village from 1680 to 1682 bewitched many people to death, including his own first two wives. The fist he smothered and the second he strangled, and nobody seemed to notice that their specters differed about the means by which the supposed murders were done. Reverend Burroughs often would tell people, “My God makes known your thoughts unto me,” both he and his hearers understood his god to be the Devil; the Christian God does not deal in the occult, particularly at the level of family gossip, but the Devil does. When people are in the clutch of malignant demons, they are bound to die. Dr. Harold M. Johnson, a Hawaiian physician, reported both severe skin lesion and death among victims of Kahuna sorcerers. #RandolphHarris 1 of 14
However, he had succeeded in curing bewitched patients by giving them methylene blue tablets, which turned their urine blue and persuades them that a powerful countercharm has been worked on their behalf. Witchcraft deaths have been reported for a very long time, yet it is only recently that they have received serious medical attention. Most of the physical effects of witchcraft are attributable to hysteria, but not death. However, people do not die from hysteria, but death. Like the hysterical symptoms of bewitchment, begins with the victim’s fear of the witch’s power. Dr. Walter B. Cannon of Harvard Medical School published an article entitled “Voodoo Death,” in which he began by acknowledging that “the phenomenon is so extraordinary and so foreign to the experience of civilized people that it seems incredible.” In all cases, death comes inexorably and in a relatively short time. As one observer put it, “the victims die…as though their strength ran out as water.” The only know cure was a countercharm, and when this was successfully employed, recovery was so rapid and complete that Western observers found it remarkable. Dr. Cannon suggested that witchcraft death might well be a genuine phenomenon, and also put forward a hypothetical explanation. “It may be explained,” he thought, “as due to shocking emotional stress—to obvious or repressed terror.” It would occur, he felt, chiefly in primitive cultures, “among human beings to primitive, so superstitious, so ignorant that they are bewildered strangers in a hostile World. Instead of knowledge they have a fertile and unrestricted imagination which fills their environment with all manner of evil spirits capable of affecting their lives disastrously.” #RandolphHarris 2 of 14
It was believed that these humans may be dying of psychogenic deaths as were the victims of witchcraft. However, Dr. Cannon had suggested that fear might be the emotional cause, with consequent overstimulation of the sympathicoadrenal system, accelerated of the heartbeat, and death with the heart contracted in in systole. However, Dr. Curt P. Richter found that while acceleration of the heartbeat was the initial reaction, it was shortly followed by a steady, gradual decrease in rate, with the heart eventually stopping in diastole, like a run-down clock. This meant that the emotional cause of death was not fear but hopelessness, produced by one’s conviction that there was no possible means of escape, with consequent overstimulation of the parasympathetic rather than the sympathic-coadrenal system. However, when people are removed from fearful situation in hasty fashion, they know their situation is not hopeless. So, they will not die psychogenic deaths. If individuals about to die a psychogenic death were removed from the situation they recovered rapidly, like human victims who have been reprieved by a countercharm. In short, Dr. Richter found that the first response in such cases was fear but that the emotional cause of death was hopelessness that succeeded fear, and that death could be prevented either by restoring hope or by training the subject to be hopeful in a particular situation. Therefore, prayer may very well save countless lives by removing fear and giving people who. This is probably also why stress has been noted to kill people and cause disease, it stresses the body and causes it to attack itself. #RandolphHarris 3 of 14
Stress and fear may prolong and make medical conditions worse and could very well facilitate in killing a person if it is ongoing and not resolved, and a person cannot find help. Dr. R. S. Fisher, corner of the City of Baltimore, who had found that “a number of individuals die each year after taking small, definitely sublethal doses of poison, or after inflicting small, nonlethal wounds on themselves; apparently they die as a result of the belief in their doom.” Dr. Richter’s findings throw much new light on the history of Massachusetts witchcraft. They should enable us at long last to take as seriously as it deserves Cotton Mather’s detailed account of his treatment of the Goodwin girl. When he gave her religious sustenance by spelling the crucial words she was unable to hear spoken, he may have been saving his patient from much more than convulsive fits. By giving her continued hope he may literally have been keeping her alive. Dr. Richter’s findings also explain the frequent reports of death in both European and American witchcraft cases. There are about a dozen such reports in the documents of Salem witchcraft, but in most instances one cannot be at all certain of the actual cause of death. Even when death does appear to be psychogenic it is usually impossible to say whether the victim’s hopelessness was simply a result of private fears or whether those fears had their origin in a specific magical act. And if the testimony concerning Roger Toothaker and his daughter may be taken at face value—and there is reason to believe it may—we have one case of murder by witchcraft—one case in which occult means were used to take a human life away. #RandolphHarris 4 of 14
Some people have become blasé to strange manifestations. When you consort with the occult, out-of-body experiences are like your daily bread and butter. We have special preparation for those who want their loved one’s memories restored. However, many do not use it, because they often find their beloved more charming without memories, and therefore without a clue as to what to scold about, at least for a while. Though Mrs. Sarah Winchester had a comfortable home, a home of a god as vast and resounding as the sea, and loving hearts around her, she wore a grave, melancholy look on her face. A disappointment! Yes, the old story of a lost love and new born baby is the reason for Mrs. Winchester’s looks. She had good offers often; but since she lost the love of her heart, she had never indulged in the happy dream of loving and being loved. The grave look, which was habitual with her, was a rare thing in her young and happy days, and passed over her face sometimes when she thought no one was looking. Before his death, Mr. Winchester had been persuaded to sit for his portrait. It was a fair likeness, but a very modern work of art. The background was so very dark, and Mr. Winchester’s naval costume was so deep in colour, that the face came out too white and staring. It was a three-quarter picture; but only one hand showed in it, gripping indisputably one of the most spectacular and historic of all Winchesters, number 14327. As George said, he looked much more like the commander of a Venetian galley than a modern mate. However, the picture pleased Mrs. Winchester. So the picture was duly framed—in a tremendously heavy frame, of Mr. Winchester’s ordering—and hung up in the dining-room. Mr. Winchester’s Father, Oliver, was a gunmaker, politician, clothing maker, and sailor by profession. He sailed the great and mysterious sea, and had been especially known as a good Arctic sailor, having share more than one expedition in search of the North Pole and the North-West Passage. #RandolphHarris 5 of 14
It was no surprise when William Winchester wanted to go out for a voyage in search of his cousin Robert and his missing expedition. And now the time for William’s departure was growing nearer. The USS Jeannette was nearly ready to sail, and her crew only waited orders. The officers grew acquainted with each other before sailing, which was an advantage. Mr. Winchester took up very warmly with the commander, George W. De Long, and, with permission, brough him to dinner once or twice. Poor chap, he had no friends nearer than New York, and it is precious lonely work. So George came to dinner at the Winchester Estate in New Haven, Connecticut. However, Mrs. Winchester was not favourably impressed by him, and almost wished she had no consented to his invite. He was a tall, pale, fair young man, with a hard New York face and a cold, grey eye. There was something in his expression, too, that was unpleasant—something cruel or crafty, or both. It was in very bad taste for him to pay such marked attention to Mrs. Winchester, coming, as he did, as a friend of her husband. George kept by her constantly and anticipated Mr. Winchester in all the little attentions which a husband delights to pay. Mr. Winchester was a little put out about it, though he said nothing, attributing his friend’s offence to lack of breeding. Mrs. Winchester did not like it at all. She knew that she was not to have Mr. Winchester with her much longer, and she was anxious to have him to herself as much as possible. But as George was her husband’s friend, she bore the infliction with the best possible patience. The commander did not seem to perceive in the least that he was interfering where he had no business. He was quite self-possessed and happy, with one exception. #RandolphHarris 6 of 14
The portrait of Mr. Winchester seemed to annoy George. He had uttered a little impatient exclamation when he first saw it which drew Mrs. Winchester’s attention to hi; and she noticed that he tried to avoid looking at it. At last, when dinner came, he was told to sit exactly facing the picture. He hesitated for an instant and then sat down, but almost immediately rose again. “It’s very childish and that sort of thing,” he stammered, “but I cannot sit opposite that picture. I know nothing about art, but it is one of those unpleasant pictures whose eyes follow you about the room. I have inherited horror of such pictures. My mother married against her father’s will, and when I was born she was so ill she was hardly expected to live. When she was sufficiently recovered to speak without delirious rambling she implored them to remove a picture of my grandfather that hung in the room, and which she vowed made threatening faces at her. It’s superstitious, but constitutional—I have a horror of such paintings!” I believe Mr. Winchester thought this a ruse of his friend’s to get a seat next to Mrs. Winchester; but it sure was not, for that was a real alarmed expression of his face. Before the ship departed, George has started visiting the Winchester’s more and more each day. He even went as far as to tell Mrs. Winchester that he loved her. He told her that a man could no more help falling in love than he could help taking a fever. Mrs. Winchester stood upon her dignity and rebuked him as if he was Satan; but he told her he could see no harm in telling her of his passion, though he knew it was a hopeless one. “A thousand things may happen,” he said at last, “to bring your marriage to Mr. Winchester to an end. Then perhaps you will not forget that another love you!” The butler was very angry, and was forthwith going to give him his opinion on his conduct, when Mrs. Winchester told him he was gone, that she had bade him go and had forbidden him the house. She had only told the butler in order to protect herself, for she did not intend to say anything to Mr. Winchester, for fear it should lead to a duel or some other violence. #RandolphHarris 7 of 14
That was the last Mrs. Winchester saw of George De Long before the Jeannette expedition. Mr. Winchester came the same evening, and was home until daybreak, when he had to tear himself away and join his ship. After shaking hugging Mrs. Winchester at the door, in the cold, grey, drizzly dawn, Mrs. Winchester went inside and started sobbing on the sofa. She could not help starting when she looked at Mr. Winchester’s portrait. The strange light of daybreak could hardly account for the extraordinary pallor of the face. The picture was covered with moisture, and he looked so pale. The Jeannette sailed. Mrs. Winchester received two letters from Mr. Winchester, which he had taken the opportunity of sending by homeward-bound whalers. In the second he said it was hardly likely he should have an opportunity of sending another, as they were sailing into high latitudes—into the solitary sea, to which none but expedition ships ever penetrated. They were all in high spirits, he said, for they had encountered very little ice and hoped to find clear water further north than usual. Moreover, he added, George had held a sinecure so far, for there had not been a single case of illness on board. Then came a long silence, and a year crept away very slowly for poor Mrs. Winchester. Once she heard of the expedition from the papers. They were reported as pushing on and progressing favourably by a wandering tribe of Esquimaux with whom the captain of a Russian vessel fell in. They had laid the ship up for the winter, and were taking the boats on sledges, and believed they had met with traces of the lost crews that seemed to show they were on the right track. The winter passed again, and spring came. It was a balmy, bright spring such as they got occasionally, even in the changeable and uncertain climate of theirs. #RandolphHarris 8 of 14
One evening Mrs. Winchester was sitting in the dining-room with the window open, for, although she had long given up fires, the room was so oppressively warm that she was glad of the breath of the cool evening breeze. Mrs. Winchester was working. Though she never murmured, she was evidently pining at Mr. Winchester’s long absence. The butler was leaning out of the window, studying the evening effect on the fruit blossom, which was wonderfully early and plentiful, the season was so mild. Mrs. Winchester was sitting at the table, near the lamp, reading the paper. Suddenly there swept into the room a chill. It was not a gust of cold wind, for the curtain by the window did not swerve in the least. However, the deathly cold pervaded the room—came, and was gone in an instant. Mrs. Winchester shuddered with an intense icy feeling. She looked up, “How curiously cold it has got all in a minute,” she said. “We are having a taste of poor William’s Polar weather,” she said with a smile. At that moment, she instinctively glanced towards his portrait. When she saw struck her dumb. A rush of blood, at fever heart, dispelled the numbing influence of the chill breath that she seemed to freeze her. The lamp was lighted; but it was only that she might read with comfort, for the violet twilight was still so full of sunset that the room was not dark. However, as she looked at the picture, she saw it had undergone a strange change. She saw it as plainly as possible. It was no delusion, coined for the eye by the brain. In the place of Mr. Winchester’s head, a grinning skull! She started at it hard; but it was no tick of fancy. She could see the hollow orbits, the gleaming teeth, the fleshless cheekbones—it was the head of death! Without saying a word, she rose from her chair and walked straight up to the painting. As she drew nearer a sort of mist seemed to pass before it; and as she stood close to it, she saw only the face of Mr. Winchester. The spectral skull had vanished. #RandolphHarris 9 of 14
“Poor William!” she said unconsciously. The butler Robert looked up. The tone of her voice had alarmed him, the expression on her face did not reassure him. “What do you mean? Have you heard anything, Mrs. Winchester? She came over to him, laying her hands on his arm, and looked into his face sadly. “No, my dear; how should I hear? Only I could not help thinking of the privation and discomfort he must have gone through. I was remaindered of it by the cold. “Cold!” said Robert, who had left the window by this time. “Cold! what on Earth are you talking about? Cold, such an evening as this! You must have had a touch of ague, I should think.” Mrs. Winchester felt it bitterly cold for a minute or two. “Did you not feel it, Robert?” “Not for a bit; and I was three parts out of the window I ought to have felt it if anyone did.” It was curious, but that strange chill ad been felt only in the room. It was not the night wind, but some supernatural breath connected with the dread apparition she has seen. It was, indeed, the chill of polar winter—the icy shadow of the frozen North. It was a hot evening and Mrs. Winchester seemed to have caught a violent cold, for she was shivering very much. Mrs. Winchester, felling unwell, had gone to bed. The next day Mrs. Winchester was well again, and did not mentioned the events of the preceding night. However, from that day on she was ever inwardly dreading the arrival of bad news. And at last, it came as expected. The newspaper said there had been a “Fatal Accident to one of the Officers of the USS Jeannette.” It stated that news had been received at Admiralty stating that the expedition had failed to find the missing crew, but had come upon some traces of them. Want of stores and necessaries had compelled them to turn back without following those traces up; but the commander was anxious, as soon as the ship could be refitted, to go out and take up the trail where he left it. #RandolphHarris 10 of 14
An unfortunate accident had deprived him of one of his most promising officers, Lieutenant Winchester, who was precipitated from an iceberg and killed while out shooting with the commander. He was beloved by all, and his death had flung a gloom over the gallant little troop of explorers. There stood Mrs. Winchester, with her face as pale as death, with her lips apart, and with a blind look about her eyes. The doctor was sent for, and restorative were promptly administered. Mrs. Winchester came to herself again, but lay dangerously ill for some weeks from the shock. It was about a month after she was well enough to come downstairs again. One afternoon shortly after, there came a loud knock at the front door. As Mrs. Winchester looked up at Mr. Winchester’s portrait, puzzling who could it be at the door, she would not figure out if she was dreaming or awake? One hand on the picture used to be resting on a shotgun, but now the forefinger was raised, as if in warning. She looked hard at the picture, to assure herself it was no fancy, and then she perceived, standing out bright and distinct on the pale face, two large drops, as if of blood. She walked up to it, expecting the appearance to vanish, as the skull had done. It did not vanish. It was surely blood. When the butler opened the door, George came in. He was greatly altered. He was thinner and paler than ever; hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked. He had acquired a strange stoop, too, and his eyes had lost the crafty look for a look of terror, like that of a haunted beast. He kept glancing sideways every instant, as if unconsciously. It looked as if he heard someone behind him. Mrs. Winchester never had liked that man. She told him of course she was glad to see him back, but that she could not ask him to continue to visit her. #RandolphHarris 11 of 14
Mrs. Winchester was glad to hear the particulars of poor William’s death. He related with reluctance, how they had gone out to shoot a white bear which they had seen on an iceberg stranded along the shore. The top of the berg was ridged like the roof of a house, sloping down on one side to the edge of a tremendous overhanging precipice. They had scrambled along the ridge in order to get nearer the game when Mr. Winchester incautiously ventured on the sloping side. The surface was as smooth and slippery as glass with oil on it. He tried to turn back, but slipped and fell. And then began a horrible scene. But his fate was sealed; and he could only tell George to bring his last farewell to his wife! He clung to the edge of the precipice instinctively for one second, and was gone. However, there was something always at George’s side, which none could see, but which cast a shadow. As they were talking, Mr. Winchesters portrait had fallen, and the corner of the heavy frame had struck him on the head, cutting it open, and rendering him insensible. The staff had carried him upstairs, by the direction of the doctor. He was laid down in the guest room. George was delirious. The doctor said it was a queer case; for, though the blow was a sever one, it was hardly enough to account for the symptoms of brain-fever. When he learnt that George had just retuned in the Jeannette from the North, he said it was possible that the privation and hardship had told on his constitution and sown the seeds of the malady. They sent for a nurse, who was to sit up with him, by the doctor’s directions. In the middle of the night, Mrs. Winchester was roused by a loud scream. She slipped on her slippers and bed coat, and rushed out to find the nurse, who explained the mystery to her. #RandolphHarris 12 of 14
It appears that about midnight, George sat up in bed, and began to talk. And he said such terrible things that the nurse became alarmed. Nor was she much reassured when she became aware that the light of her single candle flung what seemed to be two shadows of the sick man on the wall. Terrified beyond measure, she saw George siting up in bed, gazing at the unseen figure to which the shadow belonged. Mrs. Winchester was now in the nurse’s company. In a voice that trembled with emotion, George begged the haunting spirit to leave him, and prayed for its forgiveness. “You know the crime was no premeditated. It was a sudden temptation of the devil that make me shoot you twice. It was the devil tempting me with the recollection of her exquisite face—of the tender love that might have been mine, but for you. Bu she will not listen to me. See, she turned away from me, as if she knew I was your murderer, William Winchester!” Mrs. Winchester was horrified to hear this awful confession. However, George had risen in his delirious terror, opened the window, and leaped out. Two days later his body was found in the river. In 1884, Mrs. Winchester left New Haven, Connecticut, and the graves of her husband and only child, moved to San Jose, California, and began the obsession that was to las for the rest of her life. She purchased an eighteen-room farmhouse outside the small agricultural town, and for the next 38 years, the sound of construction on Mrs. Winchester’s house never stopped. Mrs. Winchester hired carpenters to work around the clock building and rebuilding room after room, as the spirits—or her mood—directed. #RandolphHarris 13 of 14
Some say the construction had actually started much earlier and went on for centuries, in fact. It is the cobwebs that finally tip some off; and the ancient dust on the cobwebs. Stretched out in this mansion is an entity—it is impossible to tell at a glance whether it is a man or a god, or perhaps something else. The entity seems to be of the masculine persuasion, is of medium height and has medium brown hair flecked with gray. The being sometimes sits on the couch in the parlor, opens his eyes, blinks rapidly several times, then vanishes. The Winchester house was furnished with the finest materials and was a showcase of Victorian elegance and taste. The homes of the gods are bigger, more beautiful, more awe-inspiring. However, no one can say with this is so, since any god can build a house of any size and get any interior decorator one wants. Some says the real architect was William Writ Winchester, reaching out from beyond the grave and building a wedding present for his wife. It just seems to be a quality of the major gods to have an air that is godlier than the less godly air of the minor gods. The house represents the spirit of something entirely new, a new principle, a new life, a new set of values. It gave Mrs. Winchester a feeling of gratitude for the unbending nature of things, which does not demand that we obsess constantly over what is to happen next, but merely put one foot in front of the other until something numinous takes place. Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo, et mundabor: Lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor. Atte ye induynge of ye holy vestures. In the mystery of these vestures of the Holy Ones, I gird up my power in the girdles of righteousness and truth in the power of the Most High: Ancor: Amacor: Amides: Theodonias: Anitor: let be mighty power my power: let it endure for ever: in the power of Adonai, to whom the praise and the glory shall be; whose end cannot be. #RandolphHarris 14 of 14
Winchester Mystery House
Winchester Mystery House presents 30 Nights of All Hallows’ Eve – our all new Halloween event for Fall 2021! Tickets for All Hallows’ Eve offer multiple estate wide activities including the Lost in the House Tour – a paranormal investigation adventure and the family-friendly Jack O’ Lantern Trail. All Hallows’ Eve offers something for everyone on select nights starting September 10th.
👻 Frightening Lost in the House Tour
🎃 Family Friendly Lighted Displays on the Jack O’ Lantern Trail
🍿 Fall themed food & drinks
🏠 Lost in the House Projection Show using the front of the mansion as a canvas!
and more! https://www.instagram.com/p/CR6y_fFN78M/
For more information and for tickets:
A 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
🗝 winchestermysteryhouse.com
If Speak You Must, then Let Loose Your Own Wretched Spiritual Condition!
My Dear Winchester—We have had a terrible shock this morning. Jean did not come down to breakfast, and Clara went to see if she was ill. We heard her scream, and rushing up, there was poor Jean sitting at the old bureau, quite dead. She had fallen forward on the desk, and her housekeeping-book was crumpled up under her. She had been so all night long, we suppose, for she was not undressed, and was quite cold. The doctors say it was disease of the heart.
We would like to believe that everything we think and say is right, but we cannot. That is because we do not have grace enough or sense enough. Of course, there is a wit in each of us, but even this is dimmed through negligence. What we really fail to notice is that we are losing our interior vision. How do you know?? When we act so daily, and the excuses we cook up are so abysmal! When we explode with passion and think, no I am not angry, I am just defending the faith. When we peck at the peccadillos of others, and our own whoppers we let pass unchallenged, as the Evangelist Matthew has pointed out (7.3)! When we ponder what we will put up with from others, but pay little attention to how much others will have to put up with from us! Is there a moral anywhere in this? Whoever wants one’s own actions to be tolerably received would do well not to judge the behaviour of others so intolerably. Whoever has an interior life should put the spiritual care of oneself before the care of others. You will never be internal and devout until you hold your tongue about others. If speak you must, then let loose your own wretched spiritual condition. If you focus entirely on your relationship to God, precious little of the hubbub of the World will be able to penetrate your recollection. When you have that vacant stare in your eye, you might well ask yourself, before someone else does, just where are you? When you have run through everything the World has to offer, why, if I may echo Matthew (16.26), do you seem to have advance to the real? The moral? #RandolphHarris 1 of 21
If you want True Peace and True Union, then you just have to postpone everything else and attend to your own case. If only you drag your torso away from every temporal festival, you will make spiritual progress. When you put a value on each temporal thing, you will lose spiritual ground. All of which means, you can keep nothing as your own nothing big, nothing small, nothing nice, nothing new; that is to say, nothing except God and everything that smacks of God. However, all hose lovely creaturely consolations that came your way, what about them? Forget about them! The soul that loves God loathes everything that is not God. God Eternal, God Immense, “fulling all the space,” as Jeremiah phrased it (23.24); the soul’s solace, the heart’s True Joy. Although already a thriving business—having sold over 100,000 lever-action repeaters by the early 1880s—Winchester was ready to expand its market with different-action firearms. The Hotchkiss, a bolt action designed by American inventor Benjamin B. Hotchkiss and produced in hopes of military sales, appeared in 1883. In the same year, Winchester bought the rights to the falling block single-shot rifle invented and patented by John M. Browning. Spawned by the Browning connection with Winchester, the single-shot appeared in the Winchester catalogue for 1885. The single-shot would not reach the market until 1885 and remained in product line until approximately 1920. There are so many variations in calibers, barrels, overall configurations, finishes, triggers, sights, and other feature that sportsmen, the military, and target shooters were all offered every variety of possible use for a single-shot rifle. #RandolphHarris 2 of 21
The number of cartridge chamberings for this model exceeds that of any other firearm made by Winchester: approximately sixty-five. The single-shot was made at a time when target shooting was as popular as golf is today and a major match like the Creedmoor (on New York’s Long Island) was very much the Masters of its day. Not only were the single-shots beautifully constructed and of a solid, virtually unbreakable design, but they were phenomenally accurate, used in international matches which were shot at distances up to 1,000 yards, with exquisitely constructed open sights and finely built tubular scope sights. The champion target shooters were international celebrities, and elaborate trophies were designed and built by such silversmiths as Gorham and Tiffany. The Browning-Winchester single-shot rifles were also a favourite of sportsmen-hunters as the wide selection of chamberings meant that cartridges were available for every type of North American game animal. Then, as now, hunters preferred the simplicity and reliability of a single-shot mechanism, as well as the challenge of having only one shot available, without the rapid-repeating capability of magazine arms. Taking a grizzly bear with a nonrepeating rifle required cool nerves and a steady hand. When Oliver Winchester brought out a John Browning design, the company certainly got its money’s worth. The $8,000.00 ($231,230.64 inflation adjusted for 2021) went a long way with the single shot. The Winchester rifles were highly successful. In June of 1888, John and Matt Browning were issued a patent for a slide-action magazine rifle, which—as the Model 1890—became Winchester’s first rifle of that type. #RandolphHarris 3 of 21
The model 1890, in two basic grades only (Sporting Rifle and Fancy Sporting Rifle, all having 24-inch octagonal barrels and rifle-style steel buttplates), remained in production through 1932, with a total production of nearly 850,000. The 1890 was Winchester’s all-time sales leader in .22 rimfire, and many 1890s are still in use around the World today. As an economical version of the Model 1890, the factory brought out the 1906 pump-action. And the 1906 thereby also became the factory’s first rifle advertised and sold which accommodated the three cartridges interchangeably. A further sales factor was that all Model 1906s featured takedown capability. Serial numbering on the 1906 was in its own range, and, like the 1890, the 1906 achieved an extraordinary sales total—nearly 850,000 made—before being discontinued in 1932. Hundreds of thousand of Winchester rifles were produced and they were assembled in what is called the Winchester Complex, which is in New Haven, Connecticut USA. In 1862, William Wirt Winchester, the son of Oliver Fisher Winchester, married Sarah Lockwood Pardee. (Oliver Fisher Winchester was a very wealthy and prominent man, not only the owner of Winchester Repeating Arms, but also Lieutenant Governor of Connecticut.) Sarah and William’s life together was happy, and they moved in the best of New England society. However, in 1866, disaster struck when their infant daughter, Annie died of the then mysterious childhood disease marasmus. Mrs. Winchester fell into a deep sadness. Fifteen years later, her husband William Wirt Winchester who was at the time president of Winchester Repeating Arms Company suffered a premature death. #RandolphHarris 4 of 21
Mrs. Winchester inherited 777 shares of Winchester Repeating Arms Company, and $20,000,000.00 ($532,737,254.90 inflation adjusted for 2021). She was told she could rest assure that her life was not in danger and by building a house similar to the Winchester Complex, which was 3,250,000 square feet, would give her eternal life. Now, no one really knows how much the Winchester’s were worth. In 1915, for instance, they may a deal with the British government in the sum of $47,500,000.00 ($1,277,778,217.82 inflation adjusted for 2021), so Mrs. Winchester’s inheritance was just a fraction of their cumulative wealth. In the late 1800s, the Santa Clara Valley presented sweeping visas of rural open space. It was a serene setting for Mrs. Winchester to begin her building project. In 1884 she purchased an unfinished eighteen-room farm house just three miles west of San Jose—and over the next thirty-eight years she produced the sprawling complex we know today as the Winchester Mystery House. The death of the child cannot be explained on natural grounds except by suggesting that there was something wrong with it quite unrelated to the father’s experience. However, there is eloquent testimony about evidence of the power of witchcraft. There were known to witches in New Haven, Connecticut in 1646. A servant named Mary Johnson was accused of being a witch. Others were known to practice black magic. However, it did not occur to anyone to notice that the evidence suggested that the malignant power must also reside not only in the witch but in the charms hey use or in the Devil’s power that lay behind them, since they worked equally well whether they were manipulated by a confessed witch or by a Godly magistrate. I am a believer of words, I believe everything depends on who says them. What if the direful creatures, whose report lingers in these tales of the Winchester, should have an origin far older still? What if they were the remnants of a vanishing period of the Earth’s history long antecedent to the birth of mastodon and iguanodon; a stage, namely, when the World, as we call it, had not yet become quite visible, was not yet so far finished as to part from the invisible World that its mother, and which, on its part, had no then become quite invisible—was only almost such. #RandolphHarris 5 of 21
When, as a credible consequence, strange shapes of those now invisible regions, of Eden and Hell, might be expected to gloom out occasionally from the awful Fauna of an ever-generating World upon that one which was being born of it. Hence, the life-periods of a World being long and slow, some of these huge, unformed bulks of half-created matter might, somehow, like the megatherium of later times, a baby creation to them, roll at age-long intervals, clothes in a might terror of shapelessness into the half-recognition of human beings, whose consternation at the uncertain vision were barrier enough to prevent all further know of its substance. Ever since I was born, I suppose the changes of a World are not to be measured by the changes of its generations. When one’s discrimination is no greater than to lump everything marvellous—demons, Angels, kelpies, ghosts, vampires, doppelgangers, witches, fairies, nightmares under the one head of ghost—it upsets the reappearing of the of the departed. It matters very little whether we believe in ghost, or not, provided that we are ghosts—that within this body, which so many people are ready to consider their own very selves, their lies a ghostly embryo, at least, which has an inner side to it God only can see, which says I concerning itself, and which will soon have to know whether or not it can appear to those whom it has left behind, and thus solve the question of ghosts for itself, at least. Is telling a person about a ghost, affording one the source of one’s conviction? It is the same as a ghost appearing to one? Not at all. The impression may be deeper and clearer on your mind than any fact of the next morning will make. Not everyone can feel it, but the person who does is convinced. It cannot be conveyed. It is something you have to experience. #RandolphHarris 6 of 21
In the year 1825 Oliver Fisher Winchester fell in love. This was before he met and married his wife Jane Ellen Hope. Here are notes from his journal: Well, I was walking along Chapel Street, and feeling a little bewildered in consequence—for it was quite the dusk of the evening. There was a haze in the air, when, from the crossing that cuts off the corner in the direction of Crown Street, just as I was about to turn towards it, a lady stepped upon the kerbstone of the pavement, looked at me for a moment, and passed—an occurrence not very remarkable, certainly. However, the lady was remarkable and so was her dress. I am not good at observing, and I am still worse at describing dress, therefore I can only say that hers reminded me of an old picture—that is, I had never seen anything like it, except in old pictures. She had no bonne, and looked as if she had walked straight out of an ancient drawing-room in her evening attire. The next instant I met a man on the crossing, who stopped and addressed me. So betwixt was I that, although I recognized his voice as one I ought to know, I could not identify him until he got closer, which I did instinctively in the act of returning his greeting. At the same time, I glanced over my shoulder after the lady. She was nowhere to be seen. “What are you looking at?” asked Gary James. “I was looking after that lady,” I answered, “but I cannot see her.” “What lady?” said James, with just a touch of impatience. “You must have seen her,” I retuned. “You were not more than three yards behind her.” “Where is she then?” “She must have gone down one of the areas, I think. However, she looked a lady, though an old-fashioned one.” “Have you been dining?” asked James, in a tone of doubtful enquiry. “No,” I replied, not suspecting the insinuation; “I have only just come from the Museum.” “Then I advise you to call on your medical man before you go home.” “Medical man!” returned; “I have no medical man. What do you mean? I never was better in my life.” #RandolphHarris 7 of 21
“I mean that there was no lady. It was an illusion, and that indicates something wrong. Besides, you did not know me when I spoke to you. “That is nothing,” I returned. “I had just taken a moment to recall your name.” “How was it you saw the lady, then?” The affair was growing serious under by friend’s interrogation. I did not a all like the idea of his supposing me subject to hallucinations. So I answered, with a laugh, “Ah! to be sure, that explains it. I was just confused.” It was a drizzly afternoon in the beginning of the last week of October when I left the two of New Haven. I hard hardly left the town, and the twilight had only in a post-chaise to ride to East Haven, the property of my friend’s father. I had hardly left the town and the twilight had only begun to deepen, when, glancing from one of the windows of the chaise, I fancied I saw, between me and the hedge, the dim figure of a horse keeping pace with us. I thought, in the first interval of unreason, that it was a shadow from my own horse, but reminded myself the next moment that there could be no shadow where there was no light. When I looked again, I was at the first glance convinced that my eyes had deceived me. At the second, I believed once more that a shadowy something, with the movements of a horse in harness, was keeping pace with us. I turned away again with some discomfort, and not till we had reached an open moorland road, whence a little watery light was visible on the horizon, could I summon up courage enough to look out once more. Certainly then there was nothing o be seen, and I persuaded myself that it had been all a fancy. As we turned into the avenue that led up to East Haven, I found myself once more glancing nervously out the window. #RandolphHarris 8 of 21
The moment the trees were about me, there was, if not a shadowy horse out there by the side of the chaise, yet certainly more than half that conviction in here in my consciousness. When I saw my friend, however, standing on the doorstep, dark against the glow of the hall fire, I forgot all about it; and I need not add that I did not make it a subject of conversation when I entered, for I was well aware that it was essential to a man’s reputation that his senses should be accurate, though his heart might without prejudice swarm with shadows, and his judgment be a very stable of hobbies. I was kindly received. Mrs. James had been dead for some years, and Florence Ida, the eldest of the family, was at the head of the household. She had two sisters, little more than girls. The father was a burly, yet gentlemanlike Yorkshire squire, who ate well, drank well, looked radiant, and hunted twice a week. In this pastime his son joined him when in the humour, which happened scarcely so often. I, who had never crossed a horse in my life, took his apology for not being able to mount me very coolly, assuring him that I could rather loiter about with a book than be in at the death of the best-hunted werewolf or Hellhound in East Haven. I very soon found myself a home with the James’s; and very soon again I began to find myself no so much at home; for Miss James—Florence Ida as I soon ventured to call her—was fascinating. There was an empty place in my heart. Florence’s figure was graceful, and her face was beautiful. Order was a very idol with her. Hence the house was too tidy for any sense of comfort. If you left a book on the table, you would, on retuning to the room a moment after, find it put aside. What the furniture of the drawing-room was like, I never saw; for not even on Christmas Day, which was the last day I spent there, was in uncovered. Everything in it was kept in bibs and pinafores. Even the carpet was covered with a slippery sheet of brown holland. Mr. James never entered that room, and therein was wise. Gary remonstrated once. She answered him quite kindly even playfully, but no change followed. #RandolphHarris 9 of 21
What was worse, she made very wretched tea. Her father never took tea; neither did Gary. I was rather fond of it, but I soon gave it up. Everything her father partook of was first-rate. Everything else was somewhat poverty-stricken. My pleasure in Florence’s society prevented me from making practical deductions from such trifles. The first day of November was a very lovely day, quite one. I was sitting in a little arbour I had just discovered, with a book in my hand—not reading, however, but day-dreaming—when, lifting my eyes from the ground, I was startled to see, through a thin shrub in from of the arbour what seemed the form of an old lady seated, apparently reading from a book on her knee. The sight instantly recalled the lady from Chapel Street. I started to my feet, and then, clear of the intervening bush, saw only a great stone such as abounded on the moors in the neighbourhood, with a lump of quartz set on top of it. Some childish taste had put it there for ornament. Smiling at my own folly, I say down again, and reopened my book. After reading for a while, I glanced up again, and once more started to my feet, overcome by the fancy that there verily sat the lady reading. You will say it indicated an excited condition of the brain. Possibly; but I was, as far as I can recall, quite collected and reasonable. I was almost vexed this second time, and sat down once more to my book. Still, every time I looked up, I was startled afresh. I doubt, however, if the trifle is worth mentioning, or had any significance even in relation to what followed. I wondered if Florence practiced witchcraft. There were others who may or may not have practiced it—the evidence is insufficient—but who had clearly used their reputation for occult power to gain illegitimate personal ends. #RandolphHarris 10 of 21
Gary said that Florence had been dabbling in the occult for years; about five years ago he said she had borrowed a book on palmistry, containing rules on how to know the future. However, he told her it was an evil book and evil art. His charity was wasted, however, since Florence continued telling people’s futures, somethings through reading their faces as well as through reading their palms. Fortunetelling is often only white magic. However, it easily becomes black magic when it concerns itself with the time or manner of the subject’s death. After dinner I strolled out by myself, leaving father and son over their claret. I did not drink wine; and from the lawn I could see the windows of the library, whither Florence commonly retired from the dinner-table. It was a very lovely soft night. There was no moon, but the stars looked wider awake than usual. Dew was falling, but the grass was not yet wet, and I wandered about on it for half and hour. The stillness was somehow strange. It had a wonderful feeling it as if something were expected—as if the quietness were the mould in which some even or other was about to be cast. Even then I was a reader of certain sorts of recondite lore. Suddenly I remembered that this was the eve of All Souls. This is the night on which all the faithful departed, those baptized Christians who are believed to be in purgatory because they died with the guilt of less sin on their souls, came out of their graves to visit their old homes. “Poor dead!” I thought with myself; “have you any place to call a home now? If you have, surely you will not wander back here, where all you have called home has either vanished or given itself to others, to be their home now and yours no more! What an awful doom the old fancy has allotted you! To dwell in your graves all he year, and creep out, this one night, to enter at the midnight door, left open for welcome! A poor welcome truly!—just an open door, a clean-swept floor, and a fire to warm your rain-sodden limbs! The household asleep, and the houseplace swarming with the ghost of ancient times—the miser, the spendthrift, the profligate, the coquette—for the good ghosts sleep, and are troubled with no walking like yours! Not one man, sleepless like yourself, to question you.” #RandolphHarris 11 of 21
“Yet who can tell?” I went on to myself. “It may be your hell to return thus. It may be that only on this one night of the year you can show yourself to one who can see you, but that the place were wicked is the Hades to which you are doomed for ages.” I thought and thought till I began to feel the air alive about me, and was enveloped in the vapours that dim the eyes of those who strain them for one peep through the dull mica windows that will not open on the World of ghosts. At length I cast my fancies away, and feld from them to the library in hopes that no one would raise the Devil to kill or bewitch me. There were many books of fortune-telling and grimoires, of course, full of diagrams. The bodily presence of Florence made the World of ghosts appear shadowy indeed. “What a reality there is about a bodily presence.” I said to myself, as I took y chamber-candle in my hand. “But what is there more real in a body?” I said again, as I crossed the hall. “Surely nothing,” I went on, as I ascended the broad staircase to my room. “The body must vanish. If there be a spirit, that will remain. A body can but vanish. A ghost can appear.” I woke in the morning with a sense of such discomfort as made me spring out of bed at once. When I looked at my watch after I was dressed, I found I had risen an hour earlier than usual. I groped my way downstairs to spend the hour before breakfast in the library. No sooner was I seated with the book than I heard the voice of Florence scolding the butler, in no very gentle tones, for leaving the garden door open all night. The moment I heard this, the strange occurrences I am about to relate began to dawn upon my memory. #RandolphHarris 12 of 21
The door had been open the night long between All Saints and All Souls. In the middle of the night I awoke suddenly. I knew it was not the morning by the sensations I had, for the night feels altogether different from the morning. It was quite dark. My heart was beating violently, and I either hardly could or hardly dared breathe. A nameless terror was upon me, and my sense of hearing was, apparently by the force of its expectation, unnaturally roused and keen. There it was—a slight noise in the room!—slight, but clear, and with an unknown significance about it! It was awful to think it would come again. I do believe it was only one of those creaks in the timers which announced the torpid, age-long, skin flow of every house back to the dust—a motion to which the flow of the glacier is as a torrent, but which is no less inevitable and sure. Day and night it ceases not; but only in the night, when house and heart are still, do we hear it. No wonder it should sound fearful! for we are we not the immortal dwellers in ever-crumbling clay? The clay is no near us, and yet not of us, that it is every movement starts a fresh dismay. For what will its final ruin disclose? When it falls from about us, where shall we find that we have existed all the time? My skin tingled with the bursting of the moister from its pores. Something was in the room besides me. Sometimes apparitions had the reputation for torture and the torture included choking. People should teach their children to fear God, should come to persuade poor creatures to give their souls to the Devil. A confused, indescribable sense of utter loneliness, and yet awful presence, was upon me, its blood did cry for vengeance against me. Nobody seemed to have noticed that the specters differed about the means by which the supposed murders were done. The Devil himself did no know so far. This presence was mingled with a dreary, hopeless desolation, as of burnt-out love and aimless life. All at once I found myself sitting up. The terror that a cold hand might be laid upon me, or a cold breath blow on me, or a corpselike face bend down through the darkness over me, had broken my bonds!—I would meet half-way whatever might be approaching. The moment that my will burst into action the terror began to ebb. #RandolphHarris 13 of 21
The room in which I slept was a large one, perfectly dreary with tidiness. I did not know till afterwards that it was Florence’s room, which she had given up to me rather than prepare another. The furniture, all but one article, was modern and commonplace. I could not help remarking to myself afterwards how utterly void the room was of the nameless charm of feminine occupancy. I had seen nothing to wake a suspicion of its being a lady’s room. The article I have excepted was an ancient bureau, elaborate and ornate, which stood on one side of the large bow window. They very morning before, I had seen a bunch of keys hanging from the upper part of it, and had peeped in. Finding, however, that the pigeon-holds were full of papers, I closed it at once. I should have been glad to use it, but clearly it was not for me. At that bureau the figure of a woman was now seated in the posture of one writing. A strange dim light was around her, but whence I proceeded I never thought of enquiring. As if I, too, had stepped over the bourne, and was a ghost myself, all fear was now gone. I got out of bed, and softly crossed the room to where she was seated. “If she should be beautiful!” I thought—for I had often dreamed of a beautiful ghost that was pleased with me. The figure did not move. She was looking at the faded brown paper. “Some old love-letter,” I thought, and stepped nearer. So cool was I now, that I actually peeped over her shoulder. With mingled surprise and dismay I found that the dim page over which she was bent was that of an old account-book. Ancient household records, in rusty ink, held up to the gliosis of the waning moon, which shone through the parting in the curtains, their entries of shillings and pence!—Of pounds there was not one. #RandolphHarris 14 of 21
No doubt pounds and fathers are much the same in the World of thought—the true spirit-World; but in the ghost-World this eagerness over shillings and pence must mean something awful! To think that coins which had since been worn smooth in other pockets and purses, which had gone back to the Mint, and been melted down, to come out again and yet again with the heads of new kings and queens—that diners, eaten by the worms—that polish for the floors inches of whose thickness had since been worn away—that the hundred nameless trifled of a life utterly vanished, should be perplexing, annoying, and worst of all, interesting the soul of a ghost who had been in Hades for centuries! The writing was very old-fashioned, and e words were contracted. I could read nothing but the moneys and one single entry—“Corinths Vs.” Currans for a Christmas puffing, most likely! Ah–, poor lady! the pudding and not the Christmas was her care; not the delight of the children over it, but the beggarly pence which it cost. And she cannot get it out of her head, although her brain was “powdered all as thin as flour” ages ago in the mortar of Death. “Alas, poor ghost!” It needs no treasure hoard left behind, no floor stained with the blood of the murdered child, no wickedly hidden parchment of landed rights. Was this a demonic conspiracy? Witches cannot send the Devil to torment people by making a covenant with the Devil. Some people in this town had a lot of evidence against them for trafficking in the occult. In fact, if you recall, during the Salem Witch Trials, renegade members of the clergy had played a large part in the history of witchcraft in fact and in fiction. It should be recalled that Morgan le Fey, King Arthur’s sister, was supposed to have learned her evil craft in the nunnery where she was educated, that Benvenuto Cellini’s sorcerer-friend was a priest, and that a renegade priest is supposed to be necessary to the performance of Black Mass. An old account-book is enough for the hell of the house-keeping gentlewoman! She never lifted her face, or seem to know that I stood behind her. I left her, and went into the bow window, where I could see her face. I was right there. It was the same lady I had met at Chapel Street, walking in front of Gary James. #RandolphHarris 15 of 21
Her withered lips went moving as if they would have uttered words she had the breath been commissioned thither; her brow was contracted over her thin nose; and once and again her shining forefinger wen up to her temple as if she were pondering some deep problem of humanity. How long I stood gazing at her I do not know, but at last I withdraw to my bed, and left her struggling to solve that which she could never solve thus. It was the symbolic problem of her own life, and she had failed to read it. I remember nothing more. She may be sitting there still, solving at the insolvable. I should have felt no inclination, with the broad sun of the squire’s face, the keen eyes of Gary James, and the beauty of Florence before me at the breakfast table, to say a word about what I had seen, even if I had not been afraid of the doubt concerning my sanity which the story would certainly awaken. What with the memories of the night, I passed a very dreary day, dreading the return of the night, for, cool as I had been in her presence, I could not regard the possible reappearance of those ghost with equanimity. I had a belly ache. Gary James said he would take a pipe of tobacco and light it. I told him that I thought it was not lawful. [The idea that this remedy was unlawful is probably a result of the use of tobacco in it. Tobacco was an “Indian Weed” and used in Indian ceremony and medicine. The Puritans, like other seventh-century Christians, thought the Indians to be Devil worshippers and thought of their medicine men as magicians.] He said it was lawful for man or beast. However, when the night did come, I slept soundly to the morning. The next day, not being able to read with comfort, I went wandering about the place, and at length began to fit the outside and inside of the house together. #RandolphHarris 16 of 21
The house was a large and rambling edifice, parts of it very old, parts comparatively modern. I first found a beautiful stained-glass window, which looked out back. It was kind of a countercharm and verged on black magic because it was supposed not only to break the witch’s spell but to injure the witch or compel her presence. Below this window, on one side, there was a door. I wondered whiter it led, but found it locked. At the moment Gary James approached from the stables. “Where does this door lead?” I asked him. “I will get the key,” he answered. “It is rather a queer old place. We used to like it when we were children.” “There is a stair, you see,” he said, as he threw the door open. “It leads up over the kitchen.” I followed him up the stair. “There is a door into your room,” he said, “but it is always locked now. And here is Grannie’s room, as they call it, though why, I have not the least idea,” he added, as he pushed open the door of an old-fashioned parlour, smelling very musty. A few old books lay on a side table. A china bowl stood besides them, with some shrivelled, scented rose-leaves in the bottom of it. The cloth that covered the table was riddled by moths, and the spider-legged chairs were covered with dust. A conviction seized me that the old bureau must have belonged to this room, and I soon found the place where I judged it must have stood. However, the same moment I caught sight of a portrait on the wall above the spot I had fixed upon. “Good Lord!” I caried, involuntarily, “that is the very lady I met at Chapel Street!” “Nonsense!” said Gary James. “Old-fashioned ladies are like babies—they all look the same. That is a very old portrait.” “So I see,” I answered. “It is like a Zucchero.” “I don’t know whose it is,” he answered hurriedly, and I thought he looked a little queer.” #RandolphHarris 17 of 21
“Is she one of the family?” I asked. “They say so; but who or what she is, I don’t know. You must ask Jean,” he answered. “The more I looked at it,” I said, “the more I am convinced it is the same lady.” “Well,” he returned with a laugh, “my old nurse used to say she was rather restless. But it’s all nonsense.” “That bureau in my room looks about the same date as this furniture.” I remarked. “It used to stand just there,” he answered, pointing to the space under the picture. “Well, I remember with what awe we used to regard it; for they said the old lady kept her accounts at it still. We never dared touch the bundles of yellow papers in the pigeon-holes. I remember thinking Jean a very heroine once when she touched one of them with the tip of her forefinger. She had got yet more courageous by the time she had it moved into her own room.” “hen that is your sister’s room I am occupying?” I said. “Yes.” “I am ashamed of keeping her out of it.” “Oh! she’’ do well enough.” “If I were she though,” I added, “I would send that bureau back to its own place.” “What do you mean, Oliver? Do you believe ever old wife’s tale that ever was told?” “She may get a fright some day—that’s all! I replied. He smiled with such an evident mixture of pity and contempt that for the moment I almost disliked him; and feeling certain that Florence would receive any such hint in a somewhat similar manner, I did not feel inclined to offer her any advice with regard to the bureau. Little occurred during the rest of my visit worthy of remark. Somehow or other I did not make much progress with Florence. I believe I had begun to see into her character a little more, and therefore did not get deeper in love as the days went on. #RandolphHarris 18 of 21
I know I became less absorbed in her society, although I was still anxious to make myself agreeable to her—or perhaps, more properly, to give her a favourable impression of me. I do not know whether she perceived any difference in my behaviour, but I remember that I began again to remark the pinched look of her nose, and to be a little annoyed with her for always putting aside my book. At the same time, I daresay I was provoking, for I never was given to tidiness myself. At length Christmas Day arrived. After breakfast, the squire Mr. James, and the two girls arranged to talk to church. Florence was not in the room at the moment. I excused myself on the ground of a headache, for I had had a bad night. When they left, I went up to my room, threw myself on the bed, and was soon fast asleep. How long I slept I do not know, but I work again with that indescribable yet well-known sense of not being alone. The feeling was scarcely less terrible in the daylight than it had been in the darkness. With the same sudden effort as before, I sat up in the bed. There was the figure at the open bureau, in precisely the same position as on the former occasion. However, I could not see it so distinctly. I rose as gently as I could, and approached it, after the first physical terror. I am not a coward. Just as I got near enough to see the account book open on the folding cover of the bureau, she started up, and, turning, revealed the face of Florence. She blushed crimson. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Winchester,” she said, in great confusion; “I thought you had gone to church with the rest.” “I had lain down with a headache, and gone to sleep,” I replied. “But forgive me, Miss James,” I added, for my mind was full of the dreadful coincidence, “don’t you think you have been better at church than balancing your accounts on Christmas Day?” “The better day the better deed,” she said, with a somewhat offended air, and turned to walk from the room. #RandolphHarris 19 of 21
“Excuse me, Florence,” I resumed, very seriously, “but I want to tell you something.” She looked conscious. It never crossed me, that perhaps she fancied I was going to make a confession. Far other things were then in my mind. For I thought how awful it was, if she too, like the ancestral ghost, should have to do an age-long penance of haunting that bureau and those horrid figures, and I had suddenly resolved to tell her the whole story. She listened with varying complexion and face half turned aside. When I had ended, which I fear I did with something of a personal appeal, she lifted her head and looked me in the face, with just a slight curl on her thin lip, and answered me. “If I had wanted a sermon, Mr. Winchester, I should have gone to church for it. As for the ghost, I am sorry for you.” So saying she walked out of the room. The rest of the day I did not find very merry I pleaded my headache as an excuse for going to be early. How I hated the room now! Next morning, immediately after breakfast, I took my leave of East Haven. If I lost a wife at all, it was a stingy one. I should have been ashamed of her all my life long. However, extravagant runs the rich, and the stingy robs the poor. I have kept up my friendship with her brother. All he knows about the matter is, that either we had a quarrel, or she refused me—he is not sure which. I must say for Florence, that she was no tattler. Well, here is a letter I had from Gary James this very morning, I will read I to you. My Dear Winchester—We have had a terrible shock this morning. Jean did not come down to breakfast, and Clara went to see if she was ill. We heard her scream, and rushing up, there was poor Jean sitting at the old bureau, quite dead. She had fallen forward on the desk, and her housekeeping-book was crumpled up under her. She had been so all nigh long, we suppose, for she was not undressed, and was quite cold. The doctors say it was disease of the heart. #RandolphHarris 20 of 21
Some people thought the ghost had come to tell that she had hidden away money in some secret place in the old bureau, one would see why she was permitted to come back. And of course, those wretched accounts were not over and done with, you see. That is the misery of it. Good night. Then I walked out into the wind. We who have lost our sense and our senses—our touch, our small, our vision of who we are; we who frantically force and press all things, without rest for body or spirit, hurting our Earth and injuring ourselves: we call a halt. We want to rest. We need to rest and allow the Earth to rest. We need to reflect and to rediscover the mystery that lives in us, that is the ground of every unique expression of life, the source of the fascination that calls all things to communion. We declare a Sabbath, a space of quiet; for simply being and letting be; for recovering the great, forgotten truths; for learning how to live again. Our God and God of our fathers, please accept our rest. Please Sanctify us through Thy commandments, and grant our portion in Thy Torah. Please give us abundantly of Thy goodness and make us rejoice in Thy salvation. Please purify our hearts to serve Thee in truth. In Thy loving favour, O Lord our God, please grant that Thy holy Sabbath be our joyous heritage, and may America who sanctified Thy name, rest thereon. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who halowest the Sabbath. O Lord our God, be gracious unto Thy people America and accept their prayer. Please restore America and accept their prayer. Please restore the worship to Thy sanctuary and please receive in love and favour the supplication of America. May the worship of thy people be ever acceptable unto Thee. #RandolphHarris 21 of 21
Winchester Mystery House
Things are looking up for a tour through the Winchester Mystery House. Will you be visiting us today? he Explore More Tour is officially open! Tour areas of the iconic mansion that had never been accessible to the public before. This is a 160-room mansion built to appease the spirits who died at the hands of the Winchester Rifle 👻
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When Once that Peace, Christ’s Peace, is Got into the Heart, Storms Cannot Hurt as Much!
Be vigilant and diligent in the service of God. Ask yourself frequently, Why did I leave the World behind and come to the monastery? To live for God, that is why. Next step? To pray to God. So hit the road in hot pursuit of spiritual progress. It will not take long before you see the reward of your labours. The fear and pain that has held you in its grip for so long will begin to ease up. All of which means, labour for a bit now, and you will find great rest, even perpetual joy, in the end. Remain faithful and fervent along the way, and without a doubt God will be faithful and generous to you when the time comes. That is how Jesus son of Sirach put it in his book of Wisdom (51.30). Do not ever doubt that you will reach the palm of victory; but do not think you can take Confidence a prisoner along the way; that would be a tactical blunder; you would be tempted to think you could sail around the World without a sail. When someone is nervous, one is fearful one day, hopeful the next. In a moment of great spiritual pain, or so the story goes, one such Devout fled to a church, where he flopped in front of an altar. “If only I could have known then what I know now,” he prayed, “I would have saved myself a lot of grief!” He knew his prayer would be answered, but he did not know when. “If you did know, what would you do?” came the Divine Response immediately. “That is what you should do now. Once you start down this pathway, you will begin to feel better about the long-term future.” Consoled and comforted, he committed himself to the Divine Will and rose from the cold stone floor. #RandolphHarris 1 of 13
As the day passed, his nervousness did indeed begin to disappear. However, more than that had changed. He no longer was trying to satisfy his curiosity about the future. Rather, as Paul urged the Romans (12.1), he spent his time trying to figure out how to turn the present to his spiritual advantage. “Hope in the Lord, and do good things,” sang the Psalmist: “plough the fields, and they will feed you wealthily,” (37.3). what makes us shrink from spiritual progress and fervent change? One thing only. The horrific difficulty of keeping the pressure on. Which is another way of saying that, over time, the good person can be subject to battle fatigue. Even if you may not believe it, every word in this story is true. It was autumn, and we were at the Winchester Estate. Chadwick Kempis had been employed by Mrs. Winchester as a sort of overlooker on the estate. He had died the previous winter; leaving nothing behind him except some debts; for he was not provident; and his handsome son Ken. Ken Kempis, who was rather superior as far as education went, disliked work: he would make a show of helping his father, but it came to little. Chadwick had not put him to any particular trade or occupation, and Ken, who was as proud as Lucifer, would not turn to it himself. He liked to be a gentleman. All he did now was to work the Victorian garden, and feed the fowls, ducks, rabbit, and pigeons, of which he kept a great quantity, selling them to the houses around and sending them to the market. However, as every one said, poultry would not maintain him. #RandolphHarris 2 of 13
Ken was engaged to be married to a lady named Bianca Toffler. Ken was scoring a big success with Bianca’s mother Cordelia Toffler. She regarded him as a stable and steady person, someone with whom it is really a pleasure to associate, not like some of the stylish young dandies. However, as every one said, poultry would not maintain him. People began to whisper a query as to how Ken got his corn for the poultry: he was not known to buy much: and he would have to go out his house at Christmas, for its owner, Mrs. Winchester, had given him notice. Mrs. Toffler, anxious about Bianca’s prospects, asked Ken what he intended to do then, and he answered, “Make his fortune: he should begin to do it as soon as he could turn himself round.” However, the time was going on, and the turning round seemed to be as far off as ever. After Midsummer, a nice of the schoolmistress’s, Miss Osborn, had to the school to stay: her name was Natalie Rose. The father, Chace Rose, was half-brother to Miss Osborn. He had married a Frenchwoman, and lived more in France than in England until his death. Natalie was a showy, free-mannered, good-looking girl, and made speedy acquaintance with Ken Kempis; or he with her. They improved upon it so rapidly that Bianca Toffler grew jealous, and the people of Llanda Villa began to say he cared for Natalie more than for Bianca. When got home at the latter end of October, to spend Merriam’s birthday, things were in this state. Alvin Updike, he bailiff who had been taken on by the Squire in Chadwick Kempis’s place (but a far inferior man to Kempis; not much better, in fact, than a common workman), gave Mrs. Winchester an account of matters in general. Ken Kempis had been drinking lately, Updike added, and his head was not strong enough to stand it; and he was also beginning to look as if he had some care upon him. #RandolphHarris 3 of 13
Natalie Rose was in all probability a practicing witch. She had a long-standing reputation for witchcraft; it was rumored that she had bewitched her first boyfriend to death. In 1898, during her second relationship, she had been brought before the Court of Assistants for witchcraft. The records of that trial do not survive, but it is probable that a major factor in her release at the time was the good opinion of Father Jose de Jesus Vallejo. But Father Vallejo changed his mind by 1900, and accused her of witchcraft; two women testified that “the Devil did come bodily unto her, and the she was familiar with the Devil, and that she sat up all the night long with the Devil.” Natalie was well aware of her reputation. But there was much more against Natalie Rose than her reputation and her malice. Two men testified that being employed by Mrs. Winchester to help take down the cellar wall of the estate, they found hoes in the old wall belonging to he said cellar, found several puppets made of rags and hogs’ bristles with headless pint to then with points outward and Natalie’s diary. The doll with pins in it is the classic charm of black magic, and burying it in a wall is still a technique of witches; such charms have been found in the walls of rural English cottages in the twenty-first century. To be sure, the evidence was circumstantial—nobody had seen Natalie Rose stick the pins in the dolls of bury them in the walls. “A nice lot, he, for them two women to be fighting for,” cried Mrs. Winchester, who was no friend of Ken. “There will be mischief between ‘em if they don’t draw in a bit. It’s something like the Bible story of Leah and Rachel, young gents, Ken Kempis likes the one, and he’s bound by promise too the t’other. As to the French jade,” concluded Mrs. Winchester. #RandolphHarris 4 of 13
It was all very well for surely Mrs. Winchester to call Ken Kempis a “nice lot,” but he was the best-looking fellow in church on Sunday morning—well-dressed too. However, his colour seemed brighter; and his hands shook as they were raised, often, to push back his hair, that the sun shone upon through the south-window, turning it to gold. He scarcely looked up, not even at Natalie Rose, with her hazel eyes roving everywhere, and her streaming pink ribbons. Cordelia Toffler was pale, quiet, and nice, as usual; she had no beauty, but her face was sensible, and her deep grey eyes had a strange and curious earnestness. The new parson preached, a young man just appointed to the Mission San Jose. He went in for great observances of Saints’ says, and told his congregation that he should expect to see them at church on the morrow, which would be the Feast of All Saints. Ken Kempis walked home with Mrs. Toffler and Bianca after service and was invited to dinner. Natalie Rose passed, her pink ribbons and her modest gay silk dress gleaming in the sunlight. She stared at Ken, and he stared back again. And now, the explanation of matters being over, the real story begins. The tea-things waited on Mrs. Toffler’s table in the afternoon; waited for Ken Kempis. He had left the shortly before to go and attend to his poultry. Nothing had been said about his coming back for tea: that he would do so had been looked upon as a matter of course. However, he did not make his appearance, and the tea was taken without him. A half-past five the Winchester Estate’s bell rang out for an evening séance. And Bianca put on her things. Mrs. Toffler did not go out at night. “You are starting early, Bianca. You will be at the Winchester estate before other people.” “That will not matter, mother.” #RandolphHarris 5 of 13
A jealous suspicion lay on Cordelia—that the secret of Ken Kempis’s absence was his having fallen in with Natalie Rose: perhaps had gone of his own accord to seek her. She walked slowly along. The gloom of dusk, and a deep dusk, had stolen over the evening, but the moon would be up later. As Bianca approached the Winchester mansion, a dark shadow came over it. When she knocked on the door, a rare thing happened. Mrs. Winchester answered the door and asked with energy, “Did you ever see a ghost?” Bianca said, “The spirit of the dead come abroad in the night. The dead are allowed to revisit the World after dark and they hover in the air, waiting to appear to any of their living relatives, who may venture out, lest they should forget to pray for the rest of their some.” “Well, I never!” cried Mrs. Winchester, staring excessively. Twelve o’ clock at night at the Winchester Mansion, most people were in bed. However, Bianca kept waiting for Ken. She wanted to have it out with him. What ill fate brought her looking for him up this late?—perhaps because she had fruitlessly searched in every other spot. At the back of the east wing, there were some steps, and an unused door. Unused partly because it was not required, the principal entrance being in front; partly because the key of it had been for a long time missing. Stealing out at this door, a bag of corn upon his shoulders, had come Ken Kempis in a smock-frock. Bianca saw him, and stood back in the shade. She watched him lock the door and put the key in his pocket; she watched him give ghe heavy bag a jerk as he turned to come down the steps. Then she burst out. Her loud reproaches petrified him, and he stood there as one suddenly turned to stone. It was that moment that Mrs. Winchester reappeared. #RandolphHarris 6 of 13
Mrs. Winchester understood it all soon; it needed not Bianca’s words to enlighten her. Ken Kempis possessed the lost key and could come in and out at will in the midnight hours when the World was sleeping, and help himself to the corn. No wonder his poultry throve; no wonder there had been grumblings at the mansion about the mysterious disappearance of good grain. Bianca Toffler was mad in those few first moments. Stealing is looked upon in an honest valley as an awful thing; a disgrace, a crime; and there was the night’s earlier misery besides. Ken Kempis was a thief! Ken Kempis was false to her! A storm of words and reproaches poured forth from her in confusion, none of it very distinct. “Living upon thief! Convicted felon! Transportation for life! Mrs. Winchester’s corn! Fattening poultry on stolen goods! No wonder your chickens are as fat as butter, and as strong as an ox! Buying gold chains with the profits for that bold, flaunting French girl, Natalie Rose! Taking his stealthy walks with her!” Ken Kempis came down the steps; he had remained there still as a statue, immovable; and turned his white face to Mrs. Winchester said: the blow had crushed him; he was a proud man (if anyone can understand that), and to be discovered in this ill-doing was worse than death to him. “Don’t think of me more hardly than you can help, Mistress Sarah,” he said in a quiet tone. “I have been almost tired of my life this long while.” Putting down the bag of corn near the steps, he took the key from his pocket and handed it to Mrs. Winchester. The poor dead thought vengeful spirits were stealing her corn. The man’s aspect had so changed; there was something so grievously subdued and sad about him altogether, that Mrs. Winchester felt as sorry for him as if he had not been guilty. Bianca Toffler went on in her fiery passion. #RandolphHarris 7 of 13
“You be more tired tomorrow when the police are taking you to San Quentin. Mrs. Winchester will not spare you, though your father was her many-years bailiff. She could not, you know, if she wished.” “Let me have the key again for a minute, Mistress,” Ken said, as quietly as though he had not heard a word. And Mrs. Winchester gave it to him. She was not sure but she should have given it to him. He swung the bag on his shoulders, unlocked the granary door, and put the bag beside the other sacks. The bag was his own, as we found afterwards, but he left it there. Locking the door again, he gave Mrs. Winchester the key, and went away with a weary step. “Goodbye, Mistress Sarah.” Mrs. Winchester answered back goodnight civilly, though he had been stealing. When he was out of sight, Bianca Toffler, her passion full upon her still dashed off towards her mother’s cottage, a strange cry of despair breaking from her lips. The next day, Natalie came to the Winchester Estate. “Is Ken home?” She asked, going to see Ken the first thing before breakfast. She meant to tell him that is he would keep right, she would keep counsel. “He went out at dawn, Natalie,” answered Mrs. Winchester, who did for him, and sold his poultry at the market. “He will be in presently: he have had no breakfast yet.” “Then please tell him when he comes, to wait in, and see me: please tell him it’s all right. Can you remember, Mrs. Winchester?” “I will remember, safe enough, Natalie.” Natalie went to church, and she was one of ten people sitting in the pews, with her pink ribbons, the twisted gold chain showing outside a short-cut velvet jacket. After church, strolling by the Winchester mansion: a certain reminiscence I suppose took her there, for it was not a frequented spot: Natalie saw Bianca Toffler coming along. #RandolphHarris 8 of 13
Well, it was a change! The passionate woman of the previous night had subsided into a poor, wild-looking, sorrow-stricken thing, ready to die of remorse. Excessive passion had wrought its usual consequences; a reaction: a reaction in favour of Ken Kempis. She same up to him, clasping Natalie clasping her hands in agony—beseeching that, she would spare her; that she would not tell of her; that she would give her a chance for the future: and her lips quivered and trembled, and there were dark circles round her hollow eyes. Many would have said she had been bewitched. In fact, a physician was apt to attribute everything he could not explain organically to witchcraft, just as the twentieth-century physician is apt to call whatever he or she cannot understand psychosomatic. However, Bianca’s symptoms were identifiably hysterical, and therefore may well have been due to a frightening experience at the Winchester mansion. Mrs. Winchester said, “The girl seemed demented: She has been going in and out ever since daylight like a dog in a fair.” “Is Ken here,” asked Natalie. “No,” Bianca said, looking more wild, worn, haggard than before; “that’s what I have been to ask. I am just going out of my sense. He has gone for certain. Gone!” “I have just seen him,” the butler said. “Here; not a minute ago. I saw him twice. He is angry, very, and will not let me speak to him; both times he got away before I could reach him. He is close by somewhere.” Natalie looked round, naturally; but Ken was nowhere to be seen. There was nothing to conceal him expect the water tower, and that was locked up. #RandolphHarris 9 of 13
Natalie’s face grew puzzled again. Unable to rest, she wandered over to the water tower again, and saw Ken standing at the corner of the water tower, looking very hard at her. She thought he was waiting for her to come up, but before she got close to him he had disappeared, and she did not see which way. She hastened past the front of the water tower, ran round to the back, and there he was. He stood atop the seven-story tower looking out for her; waiting for her, as it again seemed; and was gazing at her with the same fixed stare. But again she missed him before she could get quite up; and it was at that moment that Mrs. Winchester arrived on scene. She went all round the water tower, and up to the seven-story town, but could see nothing of Ken. It was an extraordinary thing where he could have got to. Inside the water tower he could not be: it was securely locked; and there was no appearance of him in the mansion or in the open gardens. It was, so to say, broad daylight yet, or at least not far short of it; the red light was still in the west. Beyond the field at the back of the water tower, was a grove of trees in the form of a triangle. The Winchester mansion had the reputation of being haunted; for Soren Lewis had an experience fourteen years before, when he was staying at the mansion and saw a woman standing between the cradle in the room and the beside and [she] seemed to look upon him. So he did rise up in his bed and it vanished. Then he went to the door and found it locked. And unlocking and opening the door he went to the entry door and looked out, and then did see the same woman he had a little before seen in the room, and in the same garb she was in before. #RandolphHarris 10 of 13
Then he said to her, “In the name of God, what do you come for” Then she vanished away. So he locked the door again and went to bed. And between sleeping and waking he felt something come to his mouth or lips, cold, and thereupon started and looked up, and again did she the same woman with something between both her hands, holding [it] before his mouth. Upon which she moved, and the child in the cradle gave a great screech out, as if it was greatly hurt, and she disappeared. And taking this child up [he] could not quiet it in some hours. From which time the child, that before was a very likely thriving child, did pine away and was never well (although it lived some months after, yet in a said condition) and so died. Some time after, within a week or less, he did see the same woman in the same garb or clothes that appeared to him as aforesaid, although he knew not her nor her name before. Yet both by her garb and countenance doth testify that it was the same woman that they called Natalie Rose. The death of the child cannot be explained on natural grounds except by suggesting that there was something wrong with it quite unrelated to its father’s experience. Nor can one account for Lewis’s having hallucinations of Natalie Rose before he knew her or knew her name except by suggesting that he was mistaken. The Winchester mansion was a lively spot altogether for those who liked mystery. So, they asked the butler again, “Are you sure you saw Ken?” “Sure!” he returned in surprise. “You do not think I could mistake him, do you? He wore that seal-skin winter-cap of his tied over his ears, and his thick grey coat. The coat was buttoned closely round him. I have not seen him wear either since last winter.” #RandolphHarris 11 of 13
Mrs. Winchester wondered how people had had premonitions about Natalie Rose, years before she arrived? Why was her journal and witchcraft dolls in the mansion, and what had happened to Ken Kempis? “That Ken must have gone into hiding somewhere seems quite evident; and yet there is nothing but ground to receive him,” said Mrs. Winchester. Natalie said she had lost sight of him the last time in a moment; both times in fact; and it was absolutely impossible that he could have made off to the triangle or elsewhere, as she must have seen him cross the open land. On the whole, not two minutes had elapsed since Mrs. Winchester came up, though it seems to have been longer in telling it; when, before the crew could look further, voices were heard approaching from the direction of the orchard; and Bianca, not caring to be seen, went away quickly. Mrs. Winchester was stilled puzzling about Ken’s hiding-place, when they reached her—the maid, and two or three men. The made came slowly up, her face dark and grave. “I say, Mrs. Winchester, what a shocking thing this is!” “What is a shocking thing?” said Mrs. Winchester to the maid. “You have not heard of it?—But I don’t see how you could hear it, said the maid.” “I have heard nothing. I do not know what there is to hear,” Mrs. Winchester said to the Natalie Rose in a whisper. “Ken Kempis is dead, Mistress.” “What?” “He has destroyed himself.” Not more than half-an-hour ago. Hung himself in the orchard.” Mrs. Winchester turned sick, taking one thing with another, comparing this recollection with that. RandolphHarris 12 of 13
Ken Kempis was indeed dead. He had been hiding all day in the three-cornered grove: perhaps waiting for night to get away—perhaps only waiting for night to go home again. Who can tell? #About half-past two John Hansen, a man who worked for Mrs. Winchester, happening to go through the grove, saw him there, and talked with him. The same man, passing back a little before sunset, found him hanging from a tree, dead. Hansen ran with the news to the maid, and they were now flocking to the scene. When facts came to be examined there appeared only too much reason to think that the unfortunate appearance of the galloping policeman had terrified Ken into the act; perhaps—they all hoped!—had scared his senses quite away. Look at it as they would, it was dreaful. However, what of the appearances of him throughout the estate? At the time, Ken had been dead at least half-an hor. Was is reality or delusion? That is, did her eyes see a real, spectral Ken Kempis; or were they deceived by some imagination of the brain? Opinions were divided. Nothing can shake one’s own steadfast belief in its reality; to her it remains an awful certainty, true and sure as Heaven. But there is no stumbling-block differ to be got over. Ken, when found, was wearing the seal-cap tied over the ears and the thick grey coat buttoned up round him, just as described by witnesses who saw him around the estate while he was also supposedly hanging from the tree; and he had never worn hem since the precious winter, or taken them out of the chest where they were kept. When Mrs. Winchester was told that he died in these things, she protested that they were in the chest, and ran up to look for them. But the things were gone. #RandolphHarris 13 of 13
Winchester Mystery House
Did you know we ring the bell 13 times on the 13th hour of every Friday the 13th? Come join us for a frightfully fun night of Flashlight Tours on August 13th. Tickets available now!
🔦 Link: winchestermysteryhouse.com
No One Lives on this Earth without Tribulation–Life is Lived Forwards, but Understood Backwards!
Are lives are defined by our choices. Paths taken and worlds explored. But once we commit, we can never go back, or can we? Bondage of the will is an essential foundation for the doctrine of grace. By ourselves, we are unable to act righteously, to have faith, or to contribute to our own salvation. All credit belongs to God. What then is left to free will? “Nothing! In truth!” insisted Marlin Luther. John Calvin was just as forceful: because the term free will “cannot be retained without great peril, it will…be a great boon for the church if it is abolished.” The divine determinism assumed by the doctrines of God’s foreknowledge, sovereignty, and grace is not identical to naturalistic cause-effect determinism. Yet biblical faith assumes that God works through the created order. Thomas Aquinas argued (in the words of Michael Novak) that “grace operates (except in the rarest cases) through the ordinary contingencies and processes of nature…The whole environment, the whole ‘schedule of contingencies’ that constitutes history is graced.” Believing in God opens one to the possibility of miracles; yet if we accept that all nature is from moment to moment sustained, ordered, and upheld by God, then we no longer need miracles in order to “make room for God.” Whatever their differences, the concepts of absolute determinism and absolute divine sovereignty converge in affirming our dependence on forces beyond our conscious knowledge. Thus they share the problem of how to accommodate ultimate more responsibility. If a superhypnotist were to plant an irresistible suggestion that you should commit a crime, which you then did with a sense of having chosen to do it, surely no one who knew the hidden cases of your behaviour would hold you responsible. #RandolphHarris 1 of 25
Likewise, if we understand the conditions that triggered someone’s acting desirably, we tend to credit the conditions rather than the person. It is only when we are surprised by a person’s heroism—when we do not expect people to behave o nobly under such circumstances—that we give special credit and honour to the hero. In a deterministic World we can judge any behaviour as worthy of praise or blame, but it becomes more difficult to hold the person as ultimately responsible. One is therefore tempted to create a gap in the schemes of natural and divine determination—to open the door to just a dash of ultimate free will, however much is needed to restore our accountability before God and before our human judicial system. God’s sovereignty, we may tell ourselves, does not extend all the way down to the little things, such as what I ate for breakfast this morning. God is concerned only with big events, the ultimate ends. However, as Jonathan Edwards and the other theological masterminds recognized, this assumption of agent causation creates as many problems as it solves. A God who is detached from what you ate for breakfast (or whether you ate breakfast) is not a God who is continuously involved with all events of the creation. And consider: How are the big ends in life achieved apart from the little means? Looking back on our lives, we see our path winding through countless little event and chance encounters, from our initial conception right up to the present. At any decision point we feel free, but looking back, we see causation. “What I so proudly call ‘myself’ becomes merely the meeting place for trains of events which I never stared and which I cannot stop,” suggested C.S. Lewis. #RandolphHarris 2 of 25
Or as Soren Kierkegaard noted, “Life is lived forwards, but understood backwards.” Thus the apostle Paul could sense, “I yet not I, but the grace of God.” So both the absolute determinist and the one who believes in God’s utter sovereignty (perhaps the same person) are left baffled. To limit natural and divine powers makes little sense and only opens that door for pride in self and a judgmental attitude toward others. Yet somehow human accountability must be affirmed. Faced with this paradox of faith, we can take comfort in remembering that we cannot expect to comprehend fully this wisdom and justice of a being whose cognitive stage is infinitely beyond our own. Our situation is like that of someone stranded in a deep well with two ropes dangling down. If we grab either one alone, we sink still deeper into the well. Only when we hold both ropes at once can we climb out, because at the top, beyond where we can see, they come together around a pulley. Grabbing only the rope of determinism or the rope of human responsibility plunges us to the bottom of a well. So instead we grab both ropes, without yet understanding how they come together. In doing so, we may also be comforted that in science as in religion, a confused acceptance of irreconcilable principles is sometimes more hones than a tidy oversimplified theory that ignores evidence. (Remember that advocates of agent causation have no trouble explaining our responsibility, but do face a different mystery—how God could accomplish divine purposes while granting us freedom to do as we choose.) #RandolphHarris 3 of 25
We also do well to remember both ropes in our everyday attitudes—by viewing ourselves as free and responsible agents and others as influenced by their biology, their past experience, and their current situation. Such a view has the effect of cultivating within us the practical fruits of self-discipline and self-initiative, while being more understanding of the forces that constrain others. Scripture, too, tends to adopt the perspective of self as free and other as caused. When the Bible addresses us directly, it emphasizes our responsibility for our failings. When talking to us about others, especially the poor and disadvantaged, it frequently advocates the complementary perspective: do not judge; act with compassion toward the oppressed; take the beam out of your own eye before worrying about the motes in others; let judgment begin with the house of the Lord. Are we determined or free? Christian psychologists who assume absolute determinism struggle to rationalize human responsibility; those who assume self-causation have solved the problem of human responsibility butt struggle to accommodate natural causation and divine sovereignty in human affairs. Nevertheless, on this much both camps agree: in the fabric of contemporary psychology and Christian doctrine, natural order and human responsibility are the interwoven threads. The new enlightenment which resulted from this development increased human superiority over others terrestrial beings by making them aware that they are from a divine being and created in His image. “Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground,’” reports Genesis 1.26. #RandolphHarris 4 of 25
And because humans learned they were superior to animals, they trained themselves to set traps for them; they tricked them in a thousand different ways. And although several surpassed them or hurt them, humans became the master of the former and the scourge of the latter. Thus the first glance they directed upon themselves produced within them the first string of pride; thus, as yet hardly knowing how to distinguish the ranks, and contemplating themselves in the first rank by virtue of their species, they prepared themselves from afar to lay claim to it in virtue of their individuality. Although their fellow humans were not for one what they are for us, and although they had hardly anything more to do with them than with other animals, they were not forgotten in their observations. The conformities that tie could make one perceive among the, their female, and oneself, made the human beings judge of those they did not perceive. And seeing that they all acted as one would have done under similar circumstances, one concluded that their way of thinking and feeling was in complete conformity with their own. And this important truth, well established in their mind, made them follow, by a presentiment as sure as dialectic and more prompt, the best rules of conduct that it was appropriate to observe toward them for their advantage and safety. Taught by experience that love of well-being is the sole motive of human actions, one found oneself in a position to distinguish the rare occasions when common interest should make one count on the assistance of their fellow humans, and those even rarer occasions when competition ought to make one distrust them. #RandolphHarris 5 of 25
In the first case, humans untied with them in a herd, or at most in some sort of free association, that obligated no one and that lasted only as long as the passing need that hard formed it. In the second case, if one believed that one could, everyone sought to obtain one’s own advantage, either by overt force. Of it one felt oneself to be weaker, one sought to obtain advantage by cleverness and cunning. This is how humans could imperceptibly acquire some crude idea of mutual commitments and of the advantages to be had in fulfilling them, but only insofar as present and perceptible interests could require it, since foresight meant nothing to them, and far from concerning themselves about a distant future, they did not even give a thought to the next day. Were it a matter of catching a deer, everyone was quite aware that one must faithfully keep to one’s post in order to achieve this purpose; but if a hare happened to pass within reach of one of them, no doubt one would have pursued it without giving it a second thought, and that, having obtained one’s prey, one cared very little about causing one’s companions to miss theirs. It is easy to understand that such intercourse did not require a language much more refined than that of crows or monkeys, which flock together in practically the same way. Inarticulate cries, many gestures, and some imitative noises must for a long time have made up the universal language. By joining to this in each country a few articulate and conventional sounds, whose institution, as I have already said, is not too easy to explain, there were individual languages, but crude and imperfect ones, quite similar to those still spoken by carious savage nations today. #RandolphHarris 6 of 25
Constrained by the passing of time, the abundance of things I have to say, and the practically imperceptible progress of the beginnings, I am flying like an arrow over the multitudes of centuries. For the slower events were in succeeding one another, the quicker they can be described. These first advantages enabled humans to make more rapid ones. The more the mind was enlightened, the more industry was perfected. Soon they ceased to fall asleep under the first tree or to retreat into caves, and found various types of hatches made of hard, sharp stones, which served to cut wood, dig up the soil, and make huts from branches they later found it useful to cover with clay and mud. This was the period of a first revolution which formed the establishment of the distinction among families and which introduced a kind of property, whence perhaps there already arose many quarrels and fights. However, since the strongest were probably the first to make themselves lodgings they felt capable of defending, presumably the weak found it quicker and safer to imitate them than to try to dislodge them; and as for those who already had huts, each of them must have rarely sought to appropriate that of one’s neighbour, less because it did not belong to one than because it was of no use to one, and because one could not seize it without exposing oneself to a fierce battle with the family that occupied it. The first development of the heart were the effect of a new situation that united the husbands and wives, fathers and children in one common habitation. The habit of living together gave rise to the sweetest sentiments known to humans: conjugal love and parental love. “God blessed them and said to them ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the Earth and subdue it,’” reports Genesis 1.28. #RandolphHarris 7 of 25
Each family became a little society all the better united because mutual attachment and liberty were its only bonds; and it was then that the first difference was established in the lifestyle of the two genders, which until then had had only one. Women because more sedentary and grew accustomed to watch over the hut and the children, while the man went to seek their common subsistence. With their slightly softer life the two genders also began to lose something of their ferocity and vigour. However, while each one separately became less suited combat savage beasts, on the other hand it was easier to assemble in order to jointly to resist them. In this new state, with simple and solitary life, very limited needs, and the tools they had invented to provide for them, since humans enjoyed a great deal of leisure time, they used it to procure for themselves many types of conveniences unknown their fathers; and that was the first yoke they imposed on themselves without realizing it, and the first source of evils they prepared for their descendants. For in addition to their continuing thus to soften body and mind (those conveniences having through habit lost almost all their pleasures, and being at the same time degenerated into true needs), being deprived of them because much more cruel than possessing hem was sweet; and they were unhappy about losing them without being happy about possessing them. At this point we can see a little better how the use of speech was established or imperceptibly perfected itself in the bosom of each family; and one can further conjecture how various particular causes could have extended the language and accelerated its progress by making it more necessary. #RandolphHarris 8 of 25
Great floods or earthquakes surrounded the inhabited areas with water or precipices. Upheavals of the globe detached parts of the mainland and broke them up into islands. Clearly among humans thus brought together and forced to live together, a common idiom must have been formed sooner than among those who wandered freely about the forests of the mainland. Thus it is quite possible that after their first attempts at navigation, the islanders brought the use of speech to us; and it is at least quite probable that society and languages came into being on islands and were perfected there before they were known on the mainland. Everything begins to take on a new appearance. Having previously wandered about the forest and having assumed a more fixed situation, humans slowly came together and united into different bands, eventually forming in each country a particular nation, united by mores and characteristic features, not by regulations and laws, but by the same kind of life and foods and by the common influence of the climate. Eventually a permanent proximity cannot fail to engender some intercourse among different families. Young people of difference genders live in neighbouring huts; the passing intercourse demanded by nature soon leads to another, through frequent contact with one another, no less sweet and more permanent. People became accustomed to consider different objects and to make comparison. Imperceptibly they acquire the ideas of merit and beauty which produce feelings of preference. #RandolphHarris 9 of 25
By dint of seeing one another, they can no longer get along without seeing one another again. A sweet and tender feeling insinuates itself into the soul and at the least opposition becomes an impetuous fury. Jealousy awakens with love’ discord triumphs, and the sweetest passion receives sacrificed of human blood. In proportion as ideas and sentiments succeed one another and as the mind and heart are trained, the human race continues to be tamed, relationships spread and bonds are tightened. People grew accustomed to gather in front of their huts or around a large tree; song and dance, true children of love and leisure, became the amusement or rather the occupation of idle humans who had flocked together. Each one began to look at the others and to wan to be looked at oneself, and public esteem had a value. The one who sang or danced the best, the handsomest, the strongest, the most adroit or the most eloquent became the most highly regarded. And this was the first step toward inequality and, at the same time, toward vice. From these first preferences were born vanity and contempt on the one hand, and shame and envy on the other. And the fermentation caused by these new leavens eventually produced compounds fatal to happiness and innocence. On 8 August 1960, a West Virginia-born chemical engineer named Monroe Rathbone, sitting in his office high over Rockefeller Plaza in Manhattan, New York United States of America, made a decision that future historians might someday choose to symbolize the end of the Second Wave era. #RandolphHarris 10 of 25
Few paid any attention when Mr. Rathbone, chief executive of the giant Exxon Corporation, took steps to cut back on the taxes Exxon paid to the oil-producing countries. His decision, though ignored by the Western press, struck like a thunderbolt at the governments of these countries, since virtually all their revenues derived from oil company payments. Within a few days the other major oil companies had followed Exxon’s lead. And one month later, on 9 September, in the fabled city of Baghdad, delegates of the hardest-hit countries met in emergency council. Backed to the wall, they formed themselves into a committee of oil-exporting governments. For fully thirteen years the activities of this committee, and even its name, were ignored outside the pages of a few petroleum industry journals. Until 1973, that is, when the Yom Kippur War broke out and the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) suddenly stepped out of the shadows. Chocking off the World’s supply of crude oil, it sent the entire Second Wave economy into a shuddering down-spin. What OPEC did, apart from quadrupling its oil revenues, was to accelerate a revolution that was already brewing in the Second Wave techno-sphere. In the earsplitting clamour over the energy crisis that has since followed, so many plans, proposals, arguments, and counterarguments have been hurled at us that it is difficult to make sensible choices. Governments are just as confused as the proverbial human in the streets. One way to cut through the murk is to look beyond the individual technologies and policies to the principles underlying them. Once we do, we find that certain proposals are designed to maintain or extend the Second Wave energy base as we have known it, while others rest on new principles. The result is a radical clarification of the entire energy issue. #RandolphHarris 11 of 25
The Second Wave energy base, we saw earlier, was premised on non-renewability; it drew from highly concentrated, exhaustible deposits; it relied on expansive, heavily centralized technologies; and it was nondiversified, resting on a relatively few sources and methods. These were the main features of the energy base in all Second Wave nations throughout the industrial era. Bearing these in mind, if we now look at the various plans and proposals generated by the oil crisis we can quickly tell which ones are mere extensions of the old and which are forerunners of something fundamentally new. And the basic question becomes not whether oil should sell at forty dollars (2021 inflation adjusted $363.78) per barrel or whether a nuclear reactor should rise at Seabrook or Grohnde. The larger question is whether any energy base deigned for industrial society and premised on these Second Wave principles can survive. Once asked in this form, the answer is inescapable. Through the past half-century, fully two thirds of the entire World’s energy supply has come from oil and gas. Most observers today, from the most fanatic conservationists to the deposed Shah of Iran, from solar freaks and Saudi sheikhs to the button-down, brief-case-carrying experts of many governments, agree that this dependency on fossil fuel cannot continue indefinitely, no matter how many new oil fields are discovered. Statistic vary. Disputes rage over how long World has before the ultimate crunch. The forecasting complexities are enormous and many past predications now look silly. Yet one thing is clear: no one is pumping gas oil back to replenish the supply. #RandolphHarris 12 of 25
Whether the end comes in some climatic gurgle or, more likely, in a succession of dizzyingly destabilizing shortages, temporary gluts, and deeper shortages, the oil epoch is ending. Iranians know this. Kuwaitis and Nigerians and Venezuelans know it. Saudi Arabians know it—which is why they are racing to build an economy based on something other than oil revenues. And although we are having issues supplying electricity to major cities in America, and an element used to create batteries in electric cars is expected to run out in the near future, this is why leaders are pushing to increase the demand of electric cars. Petroleum companies know it—which is why they are scrambling to diversify out of oil. (One president of a petroleum company told me at a dinner in Tokyo not long ago that, in his opinion, the oil giants would become industrial dinosaurs, as the railroads have. His time frame for this was breathtakingly short—years, not decades. Perhaps in the next ten years.) However, the debate over physical depletion is almost beside the point. For in today’s World it is price, not physical supply, that has the most immediate and significant impact. And here, if anything, the facts point even more strongly to the same conclusion. The suburban ideology fits somewhat uncomfortably into the urban dichotomy. Suburbs are neither one nor the other. Proponents of suburban living historically have resolved this by emphasizing how suburbs ideally combine the best features of urban and rural living. Opponents stress that they contain the worse of both Worlds. The argument that suburbs have best of both is not new. #RandolphHarris 13 of 25
An 1873 promotional tract pushing development of the North Shore of Chicago proclaims, “The controversy which is sometimes brought, as to which offers the greater advantage, the country of the city, finds a happy answer in the suburban ideal which says both—the combination of the two—the city brought to the country. This is a practical and valuable reply. The city has its advantages and conveniences, the country its charm and health; the union of the two (a modern result of the railway), gives to humans all they could ask in this respect.” As the earlier section on romantic suburbs indicates, the suburb was to allow the nineteenth-century city man of business to have it both ways. One would make one’s fortune during the day in the dynamic and vita industrial city and then retire by commuter railroad to the health and domestic tranquility of the picturesque suburb. Although homes in turn-of-the-century streetcar suburbs were far less grand and often occupied minimal size lots, the imagery of suburbs being at least surrounded by country persisted. Sometimes the open spaces lasted only until all the planned housing was constructed. Automobile suburbs built prior to the second World War, if anything, accentuated and sharpened the image of suburbs as being distinct from the city. Real estate developers and realtors found it was good for business to foster the image of both spatial and social distance from the central city. The mass suburbanization during the postwar years may have changed the reality, not the ideology, of suburban exclusivity. Builders and developers continued to advertise based upon the image of suburbia as an exclusive enclave where one’s fellow suburbanites would all be upwardly mobile and community involved. #RandolphHarris 14 of 25
Advertisements spoke less about square footage than about “moving up” and the “quality of life.” Nonetheless, the reality was that suburbia was now open to virtually all. Exclusively had come down to the basics of being employed and European American. Some of the postwar criticisms by cultural elites of the new suburbs were, in fact, a recognition of his change. Literary and cultural criticisms of standardized subdivision housing as an aesthetic wasteland, and the attacks on the middle-brow values of those inhabiting such housing, were in part an elitist response to rapid social change. This “there goes the neighbourhood” response, combined with a glorification of the past, was clearly evident in the comments of influential intellectuals such as Lewis Mumford. One can feel the disdain when he described postwar suburbia as “a multitude of uniform, unidentifiable houses, lined up inflexibly, at unform distances, on uniform roads, in a treeless communal waste inhabited by people of the same class, the same income, the same age group…conforming in every outward and inward respect to a common mold.” To many of the urban critics of the 1950s and 1960s, the major crime of the new suburbs was that they were common. Unlike the affluent and exclusive suburbs of earlier decades, the new suburbs, and suburbanites, were seen as lacking the true urbanite’s sense of good taste. Underlying the criticisms is the assumption that the new suburbanites went to the wrong schools, read the wrong books, and even bought the wrong furniture. It was as if former workers and service help had aspired to rise above their true station in life. #RandolphHarris 15 of 25
There is a World of other people and things—the point of individuation. At this point, there may be either a more home-loving or a more space-loving orientation, but either way, if all goes well, a person will emerge with an integrated personality. However, all may not go well. A person may be struck by a trauma, after which development will be fundamentally influenced by the method which that person invented to cope with the trauma. The Basic Fault is at the point at which people begin to have to “cope.” Use of the English “coping” refers to ego-function! It gives recognition to our ability to survive and to deal with people and things in order to survive, not necessarily with much regard to the moral dimension. “Coping” has two independent and equally relevant root, according to the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary: A. Form the Old French coper, Modern French couper, to strike (a blow), to cut. From this root we get our meanings (1) to strike; to come to blows; encounter; engage; (2) to be or prove oneself a match for, content successfully with; (3) to have to do with; (4) to meet, to come in contact (hostile and friendly) with; (5) to match a thing with another equivalent. B. From Middle English Kopen – to buy (cf. cheap). From this root we get (1) to buy; (2) to exchange, barter; (3) to make an exchange, bargain. There is even a third root, from cope meaning cape: to cover with a cope, to hang over like a coping. All very appropriate. To return to our theme after this linguistic digression, trauma is not necessarily a single even. Trauma is more likely to be caused by a long-standing situation in which there was some painful misunderstanding—a lack of fit—between the child and the adults around it. #RandolphHarrs 16 of 25
True, despite the general lack of fit, in some cases some adult may be on the child’s side, but much more often, immature and weak individuals have to cope on their own with traumatic situations: either no help is available, or the only help is of a kind that is hardly more than a continuation of the misunderstand, and thus useless. For lack of the right support, the individual is forced to find its own method of coping, a method hit upon a time of despair or thrown at it by some un-understanding adult who may be a well-wisher, or just indifferent, or negligent, or even careless or hostile. This method will be incorporated in the individual’s personality, and thereafter anything beyond or contrary to this method will strike the person as a frightening and more or less impossible proposition. The individual’s further development will then be prescribed or at least limited by this method which, although helpful in some respects, is often costly, and above all, alien. Most patients cannot tell us what causes their resentment, lifelessness, dependence, what the fault or the defect in them is…some can express it by phantasies about perfect partners, perfect harmony, untroubled contentment….Over and over they repeat that they feel let down, that nothing in the World can ever be worth while unless something hey were deprived of is restored to them. Sophisticated patients may express this something irretrievably lost or gone wrong as the male organ or the breast, usually felt to have magical qualities, and speak of male organ or breast, or castration fear. However, in nearly all cases this is coupled with an unquenchable and incontestable feeling that if the loss cannot be made good, the patient oneself will remain no go. #RandolphHarris 17 of 25
It is always a dry season until you give way to the sorrowing of the heart. Only then will the drops of devotion come. Heart-felt sorrow opens many a door. Deep-down compulsion slams the door in your face every time. We may stumble onto happiness, but, remember, we are exiles and the World is alive with peril. You laugh at the defects of the World, but your own spiritual defects you shrug off. Yet hey bedevil your soul, and what do you do about it? You laugh. Nobody laughs in public these days, expect you. You laugh uproariously, but the joke is on you. It is the other way around. Your peccadillos are laughing at you when you should be weeping uncontrollably where no one can see. What is missing is the fear of God and a working conscious. If we do not feel the pain of reformation in our souls, Joy or Liberty cannot be true and good. Happy the self-actualized who can scatter one’s distractions and collect oneself into holy sorrowing of the heart! Happy is the self-actualized who can shield one’s snow-white conscience from bilious gray pigeons! That is to say, from the dropping of one’s own inordinate affections. Face it! When it comes to power, it takes a good habit to whip a bad habit. If you do not care a fig for the World, the World will not care a farthing for you. Do not inundate yourself with the affairs of the low and unlovely, and do not insinuate yourself into the affairs of the high and mighty. Remember, you are a member of a holy company dedicated to spiritual progress. Hence, keep a steely eye on yourself. When necessary, unbraid yourself. #RandolphHarris 18 of 25
If you cast a knowing wink at the World and the World does not return the wink, do not tear up, do not waste a single tear of your own. Give serious thought to this possibility. You may not have the right stuff to be a servant of God and live the devout life. After all, we do not have many consolations in this sort of life; at least as Flesh counts them. That is what our experience tells us. And rarer still, at least as the Soul counts them, are the Divine Consolations. There has go to be a reason, and it is sin. We just do not seek the sorrowing of the heart hard enough. The least we could is throw our vanities to the wind. Are you worth Divine Consolation? Face it, all you are worth is a bundle of snakes! When you are contrite to the point of perfection, the face your present to the World is never cheerful, always chary. The good person has more than enough to be sorrowful for, to weep for. No matter how you look at it—and your neighbour will confirm it—no one lives on this Earth without tribulation. The more you eye the condition of your own soul, the more openly you weep. The causes of just sorrow and internal contrition are our sins and the vice that lead to our sins. And is it not true that we spend so much time on Earthly grapplings that we have almost no time to give to celestial contemplations? Death is approaching more quickly than life is unfolding. Think about that now, and put more shoulder into your reformation of life. We are on the near side of death now, but on the far side await he pains of Hell or Purgatory. Weigh that in your heart, and maybe now you will be willing to undertake the laborious program of reform, readying yourself for the Final Rigour. #RandolphHarris 19 of 25
Why is it that considerations like these do no hit the target? Why are we as blind to the blandishments banded about us? Are we as lazy and loutish as that? What spirit is left in that wretched body of yours? A whistle? A whimper? A whisper? Pray, therefore, humbly to the Lord that He give your spirit of contrition. Say as the Psalmist said (80.5), “With the bread of tears satisfy my hunger, Lord, and with a measure of tears satisfy my thirst.” The number of the predestined is certain, and can neither be increased nor diminished. The number of predestine is certain. Some have said that it was formally, but not materially certain; as if we were to say that it was certain that a hundred or a thousand would be saved; not however these or those individuals. However, this destroys the certainty of predestination; of which we spoke of above. Therefore we must say that to God the number of predestined is certain, not only formally, but also materially. It must, however, be observed that the number of the predestined is said to be certain to God, not by reason of His knowledge, because, that is to say, He knows how many will be saved (for in this way the number drops of rain and the sands of the sea are certain to God); but by reason of His deliberate choice and determination. For the further evidence of which we must remember that every agent intends to make something finite, as is clear from what has been said above when we treated of the infinite. Now whosoever intends some definite measure in one’s effect thinks out some definite number in the essential parts, which are by their very nature required for the perfection of the whole. For of those things which are required not principally, but only account of something else, one does not select any definite number “per se”; but one accepts and uses the in such numbers as are necessary on account of that other thing. #RandolphHarris 20 of 25
For instance, a builder thinks out the definite measurements of a house, and also the definite number of rooms which one wishes to make in the house; and definite measurements of the walls and roof; one does not, however, select a definite number of stones, but accepts and uses just so many as are sufficient for the required measurements of the wall. So also must we consider concerning God in regard to the whole Universe, which is His effect. For He pre-ordained the measurements of the whole of the Universe, and what number would befit the essential parts of that Universe—that is to say, which have in some way been ordained in perpetuity; how many spheres, how many stars, how many elements, and how many species. Individuals, however, which undergo corruption, are no ordained as I were chiefly for the good of the Universe, but in a secondary way, inasmuch as the good of the species is preserved through them. Whence, although God knows the total number of individuals, the number of oxen, flies and such like, is not pre-ordained by God “per se”; but divine providence produces just so many as are sufficient for the preservation of the species. Now of all creatures the rational creature is chiefly ordained for the good of the Universe, being as much incorruptible; more especially those who attain to eternal happiness, since they more immediately reach the ultimate end. Whence the number of the predestination is certain to God; not only by way of knowledge, but also by way of a principal pre-ordination. It is not exactly the same thing in the cause of the number of the reprobate, who would seem o be pre-ordained by God for the good of the elect, in whose regard “all things work unto good” Romans 8.28. #RandolphHarris 21 of 25
Concerning the number of all the predestined, some say that so many human will be saved as Angels fell; some so many as there were Angels left; others, as many as the number of Angels created by God. It is, however, better to say that, “to God alone is known the number for whom is reserved eternal happiness [From the ‘secret’ prayer of the missal, “pro vivis et defunctis.’]” These words of Deuteronomy must be taken as applied to those who are marked out by God beforehand in respect to present righteousness. For there is increased and diminished, but not the number of the predestined. The reason of the quantity of any one part must be judged from the proportion of that part of the whole. Thus in God the reason why He has made so many stars, or so many species of things, or predestined so many, according to the proportion of the principal parts to the good of the whole Universe. The good that is proportionate to the common state of nature is to be found in the majority, and is wanting in the majority. Thus is clear that is the majority of humans have a sufficient knowledge for the guidance of life; and those who have not this knowledge are sad to be half-witted or foolish; but they who attain to a profound knowledge of things intelligible are a very small minority in respect to the rest. Since their eternal happiness, consisting in the vision of God, exceeds the common state of nature, and especially in so far as this is deprived of grace through the corruption of original sin, those who are saved are in the minority. In this especially, however, appears the mercy of God, that He has chosen some for that salvation, from which very many in accordance with the common course and tendency of nature fall short. #RandolphHarris 22 of 25
All thinking keeps one’s awareness out of the Overself. That is why even thinking about the Overself merely produced another thought. Only in the case of the self-actualized, who has established oneself in the Overself, is thinking no barrier at all. In this case, thinking may coexist with the larger awareness. So it is not enough to be a good thinker; one also has to learn how to be a good non-thinker. Of course, the way to do this is through the practice of deep and meaningful prayer. Appetite has really become an artificial and abnormal thing, having taken the place of true hunger, which alone is natural. The one is a sign of bondage but the other, of freedom. It may be considered folly by common opinion but this refusal to destroy life uncecessarily, this reverence for it, must become a deeply implanted part of one’s ethical standard. If the body is intolerant of particular treatments and allergic to particular foods, it should not be forced to accept them. When either faith healing or naturopathic treatment is too passive, when it refrains from timely co-operation with nature by the use of positive means, by they nontoxic medicines or essential operations, it becomes guilty of sacrificing the patient to its own narrowness. No healer’s treatment is always successful nor is the cure always permanent. Failures are many and relapses are common. Those who shout and splutter from evangelistic public platforms exhibit the ego’s arrogance, not the Overself’s quiet humility. They hold the view which conforms with their presuppositions, their inborn tendencies and governing prejudices, in short, with their little ego, not their impersonal higher Self. This is why there are so many contesting theories, why the body’s ill health may cause the mind to be governed by negative thoughts, why this conflict of authorities shows their worthlessness. #RandolphHarris 23 of 25
All these cults and groups which acknowledge the power of mind over body but which leave out the acknowledgment of the body’s power over the mind, are out of balance and so out of truth to that extent. This statement may be a matter of arguable theory partisan adherents of either side, but it is a mater of tested fact with creative leaders who consciously exercise both powers. If mental and spiritual healing agents are also joined in, the physical cure will surely be accelerated and the physical therapy will surely be helped. In this way the individual limitations of the method of treatment being used will be overcome and each healing agent will contribute to bringing about a complete and successful result. It is foolish to believe that there is any particular healing method which has only to be applied for it to be universally and equally successful or that there is any particular human healer who has only to be visited for one to be cure. If we ever let the remaining wilderness be destroyed, something will have gone out of us as people; if we permit the last virgin forests to be turned into comic books and plastic cigarette cases; if we drive the few remaining members of the wild species into zoos or to extinction; if we pollute the last clear air and dirty the last clean streams and push our paved roads through the last of the silence, so that never again will Americans be free in their own country from the noise, the exhausts, the stinks of human automotive waste. And so that never again can we have the chance to see ourselves single, separate, vertical and individual in the World, part of the environment of trees and rocks and soil, brother to the other animals, part of the natural World and competent to belong in it. #RandolphHarris 24 of 25
And a redeemer shall come to America and to those in Jacob who turn from transgression, saith the Lord. And as for Me, this is My covenant with them, saith the Lord: My spirit that is upon you, and My words which I have put in your mouth shall not depart out of your mouth, nor out of the mouth of your children nor your children’s children henceforth and forever. Thou art holy, O Thou that art enthroned upon the praises of America. And one called to another and said: Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole Earth is full of His glory. [And they receive sanction one from the other, and say: Holy upon Earth, the works of His mighty power; Holy forever and to all eternity is the Lord of hosts; the whole Earth is full of the radiance of His glory.] And a wind lifted me up, and I heard behind me a mighty chorus proclaiming: Blessed be the glory of the Lord everywhere. [Then a wind lifted me up, and I heard behind me the mighty moving sound of those who uttered praises and said: Blessed be the glory of the Lord from the place of His abode.] The Lord shall reign for ever and ever. [Then Kingdom of the Lord is established forever and to all eternity.] The time has come to arouse the conscience of all those who sincerely the Good and the Right to their duty in the matter of harming innocent terrestrial beings and the environment and vehicles, a conscience which, if it could speak unperverted by racial habits, would emphatically repeat the Mosaic commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” These are cruelties practiced on objects to gain wealth and pleasures for others, sometimes clothes, entertainment and medicinal drugs. The human claim of necessity as a justification is a mistake one. Whether forged of metal or born of flesh, every form of life has one unquenchable thirst, the urge for freedom. Christianity is not something to be endured, but something to be treasured. #RandolphHarris 25 of 25
Cresleigh Homes
Do you call it a living room, family room, or great room? Whatever your favorite term, this space is the heartbeat of the home. ❤️
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This home by Cresleigh is an artfully designed, two-story home for those who love open floor plan living and space. At nearly 4,000 square feet, the design features a spacious kitchen with a large center-island , a built-in breakfast bar that overlooks the great room and a butler’s pantry that leads to the formal dining space.
There is also an office on the first floor, along with a bedroom, and two bathrooms. This home comes with up to five bedrooms or a loft in place of one of the bedrooms, and has an optional workspace, which . https://cresleigh.com/brighton-station/residence-4/
Make No Mistake About it–Which of the Five is in Need of Psychiatric Treatment?!
The United States of America was primarily established to serve as a base for the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We have not celebrated often or deeply enough the birth of this promised land, this choice and beautiful and still-young land, which we possess as the Lord’s gift in freedom and joy—just as long as we serve Him. Men and women and children of courage and vision and faith, strengthened by God as a part of His plan, who struggled, froze, starved, and when necessary died, that these free states in union might me born, in Thomas Jefferson’s words, “To assume, among the powers of the Earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them. It is worth a lot to the new Americans of that hour to begat this nation—worth all they had, all they were, and all that they had dreamed. What it was worth today, to you and me, and especially to us Christians, who alone know that the Lord is doing, to asset our free agency toward the fulfilling of His plan? The religious commitment of the self-actulized depends more on the grace of God than on one’s own wisdom. One always relies on one’s vows no matter what the labour one puts one’s hand to. Humans proposes, but God disposes, as the Book of Proverbs has it (16.9). And as a sad prophet has happily noted, “A human’s path is not always a product of one’s own planning”; do look at Jeremiah (10.23). If a scheduled spiritual exercise is omitted for a good reason—say, so that you can hide an act of charity or help a needy brother—it can easily be rescheduled. If, however, the reason it is left undone is soul weariness or just plain negligence, that is enough to make it culpable in itself, and may be considered injurious to spiritual progress. #RandolphHarris 1 of 23
Try through we do, we know we are going to fall short in many ways. However, that is no excuse. Let us try again as hard as we can. Second Wave civilization not only built up new images of time and space and used them to shape daily behaviour, it constructed its own answers to the age-old question: What are things made of? Every culture invents its own myths and metaphors in an attempt to answer this question. For some, the Universe is imagined as a swirling “oneness.” People are seen as a part of nature, integrally tied into their lives of their ancestors and descendants, stitched into the nature, integrally tied into the lives of their ancestors and descendants, stitched into the natural World so closely as to share in the actual “livingness” of animals, trees, rocks, and rivers. In many societies, moreover, the individual conceives of herself or himself less as a private, autonomous entity than as part of a larger organism—the family, the clan, the tribe or the community. Other societies have emphasized not the wholeness or unity of the Universe but its dividedness. They have looked upon reality not as a fused entity but as a structure built up out of many individual parts. Some two thousand years before the rise of industrialism Democritus put forward the then extraordinary idea that the Universe was not a seamless whole but consisted of particles—discrete, indestructible, irreducible, invisible, unsplittable. One called these particles atomos. In the centuries that followed, the idea of a Universe built out of irreducible blocks of matter appeared and reappeared. #RandolphHarris 2 of 23
In the middle of the seventeenth century a French abbe named Pierre Gassendi, an astronomer and philosopher at the Royal College in Paris began arguing that matter must consist of ultra-small corpuscula. Influenced by Lucretius, Gassendi became so forceful an advocate of the atomic view of matter that his ideas soon crossed the English Channel and reached Robert Boyle, a young scientist studying the compressibility of gas. Dr. Boyle transferred the idea of atomism from speculative theory into the laboratory and concluded that even air itself was composed of tiny particles. Six years after Dr. Gassendi’s death, Dr. Boyle published a treatise arguing that any substance—Earth, for example—that could be broken down into simpler substances is not, and could not be, an element. Meanwhile, Rene Descartes, a Jesuit-trained mathematician whom Dr. Gassendi criticized, contended that reality could only be understood by breaking it down into smaller and smaller bits. In his own words, it was necessary “to divide each of the difficulties under examination into as many parts as possible.” Side by side, therefore, as the Second Wave began its surge, philosophical atomism advanced with physical atomism. Here was a deliberate assault on the notion of oneness—an assault promptly joined by wave after wave of scientists, mathematicians, and philosophers who proceeded to break the Universe into even smaller fragments, with exciting results. Once Descartes published his Discourse on Method, writes the microbiologist Rene Dubos, “innumerable discoveries immediately emerged from its application to medicine.” #RandolphHarris 3 of 23
In chemistry and other fields the combination of atomic theory and Descartes’s atomic method brought startling breakthroughs. By the mid-1700’s the notion that the Universe consisted of independent separable parts and subparts was itself conventional wisdom—part of the emerging indust-reality. Every new civilization plucks ideas from the past and reconfigures them in ways that help it understand itself in relationship to the World. For a budding industrial society—a society just beginning to move toward the mass production of assembled machine products composed of discrete components—the idea of an assembled Universe, itself composed of discrete components, was probably indispensable. There were political and social reasons, too, for the acceptance of the atomic model of reality. As the Second Wave crashed against the old pre-existing Firs Wave institutions, it needed to tear people loose from the extended family, the all-powerful church, the monarchy. Industrial capitalism needed a rational for individualism. As the old agricultural civilization decayed, as trade expanded and towns multiplied in the century or two before the dawn of industrialism, the rising merchant classes, demanding the freedom to trade and lend and expand their markets, gave rise to a new conception of the individual—the person as atom. The person was no longer merely a passive appendage of tribe, caste, or clan but a free, autonomous individual. #RandolphHarris 4 of 23
Each individual had the right to own property, to acquire good, to wheel and deal, to prosper or starve according to his or her own active efforts, with the corresponding right to choose a religion and to pursue private happiness. In short, indust-reality gave rise to a conception of an individual who was remarkably like an atom-irreducible, indestructible, the basic particle of society. The atomic theme even appeared, as we have seen, in politics where the vote became the ultimate particle. It reappeared in our conception of international affairs as consisting of the self-contained, impenetrable, independent units called nations. Not only physical matter but social and political matter were conceived in terms of “brick”—autonomous units or atoms. The atomic theme ran through every sphere of life. This view of reality as composed of organized sparable chunks, in turn, fitted perfectly together with the new images of time and space, themselves divisible into smaller and smaller definable units. Second Wave civilization, as it expanded and overpowered both “primitive” societies and First Wave civilization, propagated this increasingly coherent and consistent industrial view of people, politics, and society. Implicit in the developing myth regarding suburbanites and their lifestyles was a naïve determinism that assumed that the characteristics of the built environment changed how people believed and acted. Thus, moving from city to suburb could and would change patterns of socialization to say nothing of modifying political, religious, and child-reading practices. In brief, suburban residence changes social behaviour. #RandolphHarris 5 of 23
William H. Whyte, if willing to make broad-stroke statements about life in Park Forest, was more careful in his generalizing to other types of suburbs and suburbanites. Other writers showed restraint. Even some scholars such as David Riesman got carried away, charging that the suburban family was surrendering all individuality and creativity. Implied was the view that all suburbs were similar and all produced conformity and a long list of social maladies. As portrayed in the postwar caricatures, suburbia was a producer of conformity, compulsive socializing, adultery, alcoholism, divorce, and boredom. Psychiatrists argued that the stress of suburban living additionally led to psychosomatic illness, suicide, and mental illness in general. Typical of the stereotypic statements was that of the late Margaret Mead, who stated that, “Settled in their new homes and finding themselves with nothing to do at home, suburbanites are caught in the boredom characteristic of the American family when its members are imprisoned with one another.” Suburban life had, in her view, degenerated into “a living room or a recreation room which often resembles a giant playpen into which the parents have somewhat reluctantly climbed.” Particularly influential was an article by David Riseman, “The Suburban Dislocation” (later reprinted as “The Suburban Sadness”), which further popularized the stereotype of suburbs as a monocultural destroyer of urban diversity. Suburbs were, in his view, antithetical to developing a true urban culture, which could only be found in the density and diversity of large unban centers. #RandolphHarris 6 of 23
Moreover, when men (and Mr. Riseman’s focus in this earlier era, when there were few female suburban commuters, was on males) moved from the city to the suburbs, they were accused of removing their attention and abilities from important urban concerns and problems. They were portrayed as wasting their talents on parochial suburban activities such as Little League. They had become obsessed with family concerns to the detriment of their civic responsibilities. Such portrayals of suburban life were widely accepted as factual. Interestingly, the criticisms of husbands being overinvolved with family matters was the reverse of the criticism of progressive writers at the turn of the century. Then, the concern was the middle-class husbands did not become sufficiently involved in, nor spend enough time with, their families. According to the wisdom of the 1950s, suburban husbands and fathers were too family focused. Currently, the pendulum has swung again, and fathers are again portrayed in popular magazines as needing to be more involved in day-to-day family life. A much-quoted social-psychological study of an affluent suburb, Crestwood Heights, (actually not a suburb, but an outer-city neighbourhood of Toronto), carried out by John Seeley and his colleagues, seemed to provide empirical support for the belief that suburban lifestyles were bad for one’s mental health. Crestwood Heights was in many respects a fine ethnology of a suburb where people worn minks and were driven around in limousines, but its analysis was prone o psychological overanalysis. #RandolphHarris 7 of 23
Also, there is the technicality of Crestwood Heights, one of Canada’s wealthy residential districts—not being a suburb, but an outer area of Toronto. In Crestwood Heights there supposedly little individuality. Children were carefully socialized to conform to their parents’ culture of status consciousness and using their homes more for status displays then for living. Suburbia, thus, was seen as encouraging pathological family and child-rearing behaviours. The children were seen as “overprivileged” because the parents in general took an enlightened rather than a frightened attituded toward their children’s mental hygiene. Because they were enlightened and because they could afford it. The parents and children probably spent more time on personality tests and on psychiatrists’ couches than any comparable group in Canada. The mental health services among these fewer than 2,000 pupils were rated among the best in the country. However, the community was attacked so newspapers could produce something sensational by picking out exciting bits. Such as the descriptions of the large homes being cold and lacking in life, or looking like department stores. There was also an interpretation that one and five of these affluent children needed psychiatric attention. Stories sprouted up about a woman whose fanatic devotion to broadloom caused her to lay it wall to wall—right into the fireplace. Others were censorious: tales of rich children dwelling like mushrooms in the basements of their immaculate homes, or of that school were many kids walked around naked. Many more of these stories were unprintable. #RandolphHarris 8 of 23
The immediate result was that demand in Crestwood Heights increased. These shocking stories of Stepford Wives, and children from Keeping Up With The Joneses actually made the community more appealing. These problems that normal people did not have. They were struggling to keep their kids out of jail, pushing their husbands to find jobs, and praying that the rent money would not get “stolen” out of the sock drawer this month. Affluent Crestwood Heights children, baffled at first by the odd stories in the papers, eventually found them hilarious. Five would pose together in yearbook group pictures, and ask, “Which of the five is in need of psychiatric treatment?” The picturesque community full of parks and parkettes, not only were the houses one hundred and fifty thousand dollars more expensive than surrounding communities, but they were ringed by churches. Woman played a distinctly subsidiary role. Their place was seen as restricted largely to child rearing, consumerism, and coffee klatching. The postwar studies took it for granted that suburban women did not work outside the home. The studies also assumed that all suburban women were married. The studies, with the exception of Crestwood Heights, also said relatively little about the effect of suburbs on children, although suburbia was criticized for having a particularly pernicious impact on children rearing practices. It is amazing, in retrospect, that article after article would purport to show parents suffering from suburban-induced conformity, alcoholism, or promiscuity in respects to pleasures of the flesh, but little of this seemed to rub off on the children. #RandolphHarris 9 of 23
Suburbia might be deadly for adults, but there was little suggestion that suburbia ruined children or was in any way bad for them, as it was for their parents. The studies have no indication that for the suburban adolescents growing up in this simpler age, there were any serious family or community problems with delinquency, drugs, or dropping out. These topics were noticeable for their absence. Reading works of the 1950s, one gets the impression that most serious problems facing teenage makes was “momism,” brought on by overprotective and overpossessive mothering. According to one of he most quoted books of the time, an excess of female-dominated domesticity was raising a generation of sons lacking independence from the domination of their mothers (Philip Wylie, A Generation of Vipers, Ferrar and Rinehart, New York, 1942). Other problems rarely surfaced. Only in the occasional controversial movie such as Rebel Without a Cause or Clueless was there any suggestion that there could be a dark side to growing up in the suburbs. And even in the movies James Dean’s problems were clearly blamed on his parents’ drinking and neglect, and Alicia Silverstone’s problems were blamed on her father’s hard work and success, which robbed her of a female role model, and replaced her with money and designer clothes. Not surprisingly, adults criticized the “negativism” of these films, while teenagers in these simpler eras “rebelled” by seeing these films over and over and tried to emulate the characters. It was as if they found the holy grail. The experience that “I depend on parents who do not care” or that “I depend on another who does not care” will, in relatively mild circumstances, lead the individual (in us) to the sense that “I cannot direct my hopes toward my parents or others. #RandolphHarris 10 of 23
In more severe circumstances, there is likely to be a sense that “the parents in whose power I am, is against me.” I believe that in truly severe cases, not only does the child feel “You and I are not us,” but the sense of “us” does not develop at all. Hence neither does the sense of you-as-part-of-us, nor the sense of me-as-part-of-us. The individual then has to live by relationships between “I” and “them,” and “him,” “her.” There is no real “you.” The object(s) of guardianship or dependence can then be experienced only as impinging and exploiting, never as protecting or sharing. When there is no “us” in which “I” and “they” are embedded, it must seem natural that others should resent any reminder that I have feelings and needs of my own in competition with theirs. The other disappears except as a menace: “I must not leave myself open to attack—I must not be found. I must keep myself safe from the guardian or object of dependence.” (We need perhaps to be reminded again at this point that we are not considering the guardian or object of dependence as known by other people—we are here considering how some dependent individuals may experience the World. However, perhaps we need also to remind ourselves that there are many more desperate and occasionally out of control guardians and people who others depend on than we dare publicly acknowledge.) “I” keep “myself” safe from “them.” This sentence, which is grammatically correct, is fully of splits and boundaries. It might indeed describe a person’s mind correctly, but a person on whose map such splits and boundaries are very marked could not be happy and rich and psychologically integrated personality. The “I” regions are cut off from “myself,” and both are cut from “them.” “We” and “you-as-part-of-us,” both integrating structures, are not established. #RandolphHarris 11 of 23
Such splits would cut off a person’s conscious “I” from much that is going on with “me” at the level of the body—the level of feelings and emotions, needs and impulses. In order to survive, I may have to make a habit of disregarding or disowning my feelings and my needs—I may have to alienate some regions of my self from other regions which have to do with feeling and needs. (Theory is assuming that needs and feelings are impulses and hopes are originally part of my “self” regions as these get established, so that a major effort has to be made to separate them out, a deliberate disintegrative effort.) A patient, in the following example, shows the depths at which “a cruel despising of weakness” can maintain a dramatic split between an active “I” and a suffering “me.” “She would rave against girl children and in fantasy would describe how she would crush a girl is she had one, and would then fall to punching herself (which perpetuated the beatings her mother gave her). One day I said to her, ‘You must feel terrified being hit like that.’ She stopped and started and said, ‘I’m not being hit. I’m the one that’s doing the hitting.’” This woman achieved an almost complete split of “I” from “me” and withdrew consciousness from these regions of herself which were “me.” Differentiation between self-regions is obviously a necessary ego-function. We all have to establish a split between “I” and “me.” When I say “I can see what is happening to me,” I reveal a split between “I” and “me,” but it is a necessary one, not a dangerous one. It is clear that I am not unconscious of “me,” rather that my consciousness can cover both “I” and “me.” However, sometimes there is too great an erosion of the natural connections between regions, as when someone says, “I do no know what is happening to me.” #RandolphHarris 12 of 23
It is in silence, and not in commotion, in solitude and not in crowds, that God best likes to reveal Himself most intimately to humans. Humans are by nature social beings What is true of nature in general—that no being exists on its own resources—is plainly true of humans as well. Babies, before and after birth, depend on their mothers and fathers. Beggars are dependent on the charity of the rich. The rich in turn are dependent on the services of those who make them rich and bring food to their table. Recognizing our interdependence, we value togetherness, communal fellowship, group activities, team sports, close relationships, self-disclosure, social support. To be withdrawn, a hermit, a loner, is an aberration. In recent psychology we have, however, seen a complementary awareness emerge. Too much social stimulation can be stressful. Crowding, noise, sensory overload, loss of privacy, anonymity, social anxiety, fear of victimization, extreme competitiveness, and impatience all take a toll on human well-being. What is more, times of social solitude can heal and renew. Such is the conclusion of an impressive series of studies conducted by the University of British Columbia researcher Peter Suedfeld and his colleagues. Dr. Suedfeld knew from earlier studies of sensory restriction that being alone in a monotonous environment heightens a person’s sensitivity to external or internal stimuli. So he offered hundreds of people an opportunity to tune more deeply into themselves through a twenty-four-hour experience of Restricted Environmental Stimulation Therapy—a literal day of REST. For a day, the person does nothing but lie quietly on a comfortable bed in the isolation of a dark and soundproofed room. Food, water, and a chemical toilet are available to service the body, and communication is possible over an intercom system through which brief persuasive messages may also be transmitted to the person. #RandolphHarris 13 of 23
The day of REST has been notably successful in assisting people who wish to increase their self-control—to gain or lose weight, reduce alcohol intake, improve speech fluency, reduce hypertension, overcome irrational fears, boost self-confidence, or stop smoking. People report that the experience is a pleasant and stress-free way of reducing external stimulation to the point where still, small internal voices can be heard. The healing power of a period of aloneness can also be found in the lives of people who, by choice or necessity, have experienced periods of solitude. If one feels threatened, helpless, or malnourished, to be shipwrecked, to be placed in solitary confinement, or to be a solitary voyager can be traumatic. However, often there is a beneficial side to such experiences. The lone explorer or sailor may have a deep mystical experience—a new relationship with God, a feeling of oneness with the ocean or the Universe, a life-changing new insight into one’s personality. If prisoners in solitary confinement are otherwise assured of humane care, free of privation and torture, they often alleviate the boredom by studying, thinking, solving personal problems, or even planning their own rehabilitation. Scores of cultures on the American, African, Asian, and Australian continents incorporate a period of solitude into the life history of every individual, or at least of every male. The boy entering manhood leaves his community to wander alone in the desert, mountains, forest, or prairie. During this time he searches his soul, dreams a vision, communicates with the gods, or experiences the oneness of nature. Through the experience the boy grows beyond his previous self to a new level of consciousness. #RandolphHarris 14 of 23
Backpacking Outward Bound adventuring (a monthlong program of outdoor physical activities) can offer similar experiences to level up. During the “Solo” component of Outward Bound and of many camping programs, the participants sometimes have mystical experiences that would do credit to any meditator. One study of 361 graduates of the twenty-six-day Australian Outward Bound programs found that the experience produced enduring improvements in self-concept. Traditional folk therapies for psychological disorders often have isolated the disturbed person for a time of aloneness. Many of today’s institutions for mentally disturbed juvenile or adult offenders use “time out” rooms in which an agitated person experiences solitude. In Japan, “quiet therapies” combine solitude with traditions inherited from Zen Buddhism. The depressed or anxious person may commence therapy with a week of bed rest and mediation, after which activities are gradually reintroduced. Dr. Suedfeld notes that many autobiographies and biographies confirm the creative power of solitude. Philosophers, scientists, and artists have experienced novel ideas while isolated. When we are freed from distraction and social demands, unusual things sometimes happen-vivid fantasies and memoires, relaxed emotions, beautiful sensory experiences, deep insight. You can experience a modest form of sensory restriction by practicing what Herbert Benson calls the relaxation response. Assume a comfortable position, breathe deeply, and relax your muscles from foot to face. Now, concentrate on a single word or phrase. (About 80 percent of Dr. Benson’s patients choose to focus on a favour prayer.) Close your eyes and let other thoughts drift away when they intrude as you repeat your phrase continually for ten to twenty minutes. As stress worsens pain, infertility, and insomnia and suppresses the immune system, so meditative relaxation counteracts all these effects, Dr. Benson reports. #RandolphHarris 15 of 23
Mediation is a modern phenomenon with a long history. Food does not directly supply energy but its presence in the body during the process of metabolism acts as a channel for energy to be set free in the body. This is why those who fully undergo the purification process of the Quest and this regenerate their body, not only need less food than others do, but subsist on finer forms of food. When meditating: Sit down alone and in silence. Lower your head, shut your eyes, breathe out gently, and imagine yourself looking into your own heart. As you breathe out, say Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me…Try to put all other thoughts aside. Be calm, be patient, and repeat the process very frequently. From yesterday’s hermits, monks, and nuns to today’s spiritual seekers, retreat, solitude, and quiet have enabled people to hear a still small voice—the whispers of intuition. God’s spirit dwells within, their faith teaches them. In prayer and meditation, a spiritual presence is felt as one sense something beyond self and as unexpected thoughts surface in consciousness. The foremost examples are the great religious visions that have followed times of solitude and contemplation. Jesus Christ, who began his ministry after forty days alone and who lived a rhythm of retreat and engagement, provides the most noteworthy example. Other religious visionaries, including Moses, Muhammad, Buddha, and countless mystics, monks, hermits, and prophets, have found inspiration in times of contemplative silence. The Christian discipline of a daily quiet time affirms the value of restricted simulation—not as an otherworldly end, but as a spiritual recharging for living in this World. “It is in silence and not in commotion, in solitude and not in crows that God best likes to reveal Himself,” wrote Thomas Merton in The Silent Life. #RandolphHarris 16 of 23
The Old Testament reminds us of this in its account of Elijah’s encounter with God: “Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was no in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” And it was in the sound of silence that Elijah heard God’s voice. We live in a time when the hustle and bustle of working, shopping, and entertainment has become a seven-day-a-week affair. Ironically, our European and American cultures are tuning away from the day of rest at the very time that researchers are affirming the healing and renewing power of a day of REST. And should renewing power surprise us? We are, after all, made in the image of the one who on the seventh day “finished one’s work which one had done, and…rested…So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all his work which he had done in creation.” A narcotic experience may give a distorted reflection of the real; it cannot give the real itself. Even so, the price that must be paid for the mirrored images is even greater than the attendant perils. Drugs weaken and may eventually even destroy reason. Alcohol is a drug which removes symptoms. However, like most drugs, it removes the only temporarily Even a little liquor may excite a person, and much liquor makes one mentally unbalanced. G.K. Chesterton wrote voluminously in defense of drinking wine and beer (he never touched spirits), yet drank himself into a long serious illness which nearly cost him his life and after which he was forbidden for some years to take any alcohol at all. Do not confound the drugged vision of God with an authentic one. #RandolphHarris 17 of 23
It is not only intoxicating drinks which can cause humans to become heedless and lose self-control; certain drugs can have the same result even though the symptoms are different. Therefore they are banned except when used medically in some situations. Contrary to common belief, the drinking of alcohol does not make a person more “human.” It deprives one of truly human characteristics and makes one more Worldly. Those who try to find the kingdom of Heaven through drugs, whether plants like magic mushrooms or hashish, or chemicals like lysergic acid, may gain glimpses, gets signs, and receive hints, but they may get stuck in an altered state of relative and experience neurosis, or psychosis, and they will not, and cannot escape paying the price of inner deterioration in the end. The fascination which follows the taking of those drugs which seem to have given instant mystic experience is deceptive. A scrutiny of such experience shows that there are liabilities because the seeming enlightenment is illusory, and the taker has no control over the drug and its effects—some of which can be quite bad. One has no means of judging in advance how tolerant one’s body and mind are towards it, whether it will give one nausea, sickness, headaches, nightmares, or momentary insanity instead of the alleged enlightenment. Both drugs and alcohol interfere with the proper practice of meditation, and after taking one or the other one would have to wait a period until the effect wore off before the real practice of mediation could begin. Just as the imagination can weave all kinds of phantasies and experiences in dream which are simply not true, so can it do precisely the same during drug usage. #RandolphHarris 18 of 23
The resort o drugs for spiritual purposes can never be justified, for the same drug which raise or widens the taker’s consciousness today may cast one into a pit of devils and horrors the next week. One of the bad effects of drugs, in certain cases, is to create schizophrenia. To gain apparent serenity at the cost of real sanity is hardly a profitable transaction. By using drugs to have spiritual experiences you are saying hat the Kingdom of Heaven is not within you but within a pill or a tablet. It takes time to have a true glimpse of Heaven and it cannot be rushed artificially. It is true that a number of persons who have used a plant (not chemical) drug have had visions of previous embodiment in animal and human forms. However, because they got it in an illegitimate way, they often have to suffer a penalty, either in self-damage or in self-entangled karma. It is an ancient knowledge although a neglected modern one, that many vegetables and fruits have strong medicinal properties. Some people do not drink alcohol because they fear it will interfere with the efficiency of their work, and much more because of one’s spiritual effort at self-conquest. Some do not smoke, first because one regards smoking as physically unhealthy, and second because one’s body becomes so refined as to feel a physiological reaction of strong nausea to it. Thus, these renunciations are both preoccupations with bodily welfare and with ethical ideals; indeed, they are actually tokens of one’s balanced ideals. One can find within oneself, the Stillness of the Void. One will then know, and always will know one’s spiritual being. #RandolphHarris 19 of 23
The true self cannot come to those who live on the surface of things, for merely to discover and recognize its existence requires the deepest attentiveness and the strongest love. All the human forces must unite and look for this divine event. The affirmations of the true self made by some creeds are contributions as useful as the denials of the false self made by other creeds. Both are on the same plane, and therefore both have only a limited usefulness as one-sided contributions only. They do not solve the problem of eliminating that false self or of uniting with the true self. Only the Quest n all its integral many-sided nature can do that. It uses every function of the psyche in the effort to change the pattern of the mind—not the imagination alone, nor the intellect alone, nor the intuition alone, nor the will alone, nor the emotions alone, but all of them combined. If one has freed oneself from the ego’s domination, one is entitled to receive the Overself’s benedictory influx. One’s contemplation of the Divine has to become so absorbing as to end in self-forgetfulness. Predestination is the foreknowledge and preparation of the benefits of God, by which whoever are freed will most certainly be freed. Predestination most certainly and infallibly takes effect; yet it does not impose any necessity, so that, namely, its effect should take place from necessity. For it was said that predestination is a part of providence. However, not all things subject to providence are necessary; some things happen from contingency, according to the nature of the proximate causes, which divide providence has ordained for effects. Yet the order of providence is infallible. #RandolphHarris 20 of 23
So also the order of predestination is certain; yet free-will is not destroyed; whence the effect of predestination has its contingency. Moreover all that has been said about the divine knowledge and will must also be taken into consideration; since they do not destroy contingency in things, although they themselves are most certain and infallible. The crown may be said to belong to a person in two ways; first, by God’s predestination, and thus no one loses one’s crown: secondly, by the merit of grace; for what we merit, in a certain way is ours; and thus anyone may lose one’s crown by mortal sin. Another person receives that crow thus lost, inasmuch as one takes the former’s place. For God does not permit some to fall, without raising others. “He shall break in pieces many and innumerable, and make others to stand in their stead,” reports Job 34.24. Thus humans are substituted in the place of fallen angels; and the Gentiles in that of Jewish people. One who is substituted for another in the state of grace, also receives the crown of the fallen in that eternal life one will rejoice at the good the other has done, in which life one will rejoice at good whether done by oneself or by others. Although it is possible for one who is predestinated considered in oneself to die in mortal sin; yet it is not possible, supposed, as in fact it is supposed, that one is predestinated. Whence it does not follow that predestination can fall shot of its effect. Since predestination includes the divine will as stated above: and the fact that God wills any created thing is necessary on the supposition that He so wills, on account of the immutability of the divine will, but is not necessary absolutely; so the same must be said of predestination. #RandolphHarris 21 of 23
Wherefore one ought not to say that God is able not to predestinate one whom He has predestinated, taking it in a composite sense, thought, absolutely speaking, God can predestinate or not. However, in this way the ceretainity of predestination is not destroyed. The life of a good being must be seen as strong in all the virtues. However, often what Humanity sees is only the spit and polish; that is to say, in some respects the interior life lags behind the exterior. Therefore, the good self-actualized should appear to the rest of the World not as one really is, but as one wishes one were. Nonetheless, one’s interior life is always to be evaluated on a higher scale than one’s exterior life. The reason for all this is that our Inspector General is God, whom we ought to reverence in all our pomps a poops. We never leave His sight. Wherever we go, we should walk, step smartly, march with the Angels. Every day we ought to renew our commitment and excite ourselves to fervor. We should recapture the excitement of that first day of our conversion. To that end we should say: “Help me, Lord God, in good commitment and holy service, and grant that I may begin this day as though it were my birthday in the Lord, for what I have done up to now is more the work of a mole than the self-actualized.” The course of our spiritual progress has already been charted by our religious commitment. That is to say, the self-actualized of goodwill has to progress with all possible diligence toward the ultimate goal. The self-actualized who lives out one’s commitment slapdashedly rarely succeeds. #RandolphHarris 22 of 23
Make no mistake about it! A slippage in religious commitment, regardless of who makes it and however slight it is, causes sin to seep in and damage to the fabric of all monasticism. We have forgotten who we are. We have forgotten who are are. We have alienated ourselves from the unfolding of the cosmos. We have become estranged from the movements of the Earth. We have turned our backs on the cycles of life. We have forgotten who we are. We have exploited simply for our own ends. We have distorted our knowledge. We have abused our power. We have forgotten who we are. Now the land is barren, and the waters are poisoned, and the air is polluted. We have forgotten who we are. Now the forests are dying, and the creatures are disappearing, and humans are despairing. We have forgotten who we are. We ask forgiveness. We ask for the gift of remembering. We ask for the strength to change. We have forgotten who we are. Eternal God, who sendest consolation unto all sorrowing heart, we turn to Thee for solace in this, our trying hour. Though bowed in grief at the passing of our loved ones, we reaffirm our faith in Thee, our Father, who art just and merciful, who healest broken hearts and art ever near to those who are afflicted. May the Christian prayer, proclaiming America’s hope for Thy true Kingdom here on Earth, impel us to help speed that day when peace shall be established through justice, and all humans recognize their brotherhood in Thee. With trust in Thy great goodness, we who mourn, rise to sanctify Thy name. Life is good and life’s tasks must be performed. Help us, O Lord, to rise above our sorrow and face the trials of life with courage in our hearts. #RandolphHarris 23 of 23
CRESLEIGH MEADOWS AT PLUMAS RANCH
Plumas Lake, CA |
Now Selling!
Cresleigh Meadows is now selling! Found just north of Feather River Boulevard, Cresleigh Meadows is home of the largest neighborhood in Plumas Ranch as well as the popular Bear River Park. With four floor plans available, ranging from approximately 2,000 – 3,500 square feet offering, three to five bedrooms, we are certain you will find the home that fits your needs and lifestyle.
Popular design elements include open floor plans, large kitchen islands, and flex spaces are staples in Cresleigh homes. Multi-generational living options also available in select homes.
Homeowners will love the convenient commuter access to nearly Sacramento and Yuba City.
Best of all, each Cresleigh home comes fully equipped with an All Ready connected home! This smart home package comes included with your home and features great tools including: video door bell and digital deadbolt for the front door, connect home hub so you can set scenes and routines to make life just a little easier. Two smart switches and USB outlets are also included, plus we’ll gift you a Google Home Hub and Go! https://cresleigh.com/cresleigh-meadows-at-plumas-ranch/
If Brooklyn Had Jet Bombers, Would it be a Nation?
Scientists declare laguage is a human quality that separates humans from all other species. Perhaps it is the same quality that can link us to the beyond, but only if we are willing to listen. Abaco is an island. It has a population of seventeen thousand, two hundred, and twenty-five and forms part of the Bahamas lying off the coast of Florida. Several decades ago, a group of American businessmen, arms merchants, free enterprise ideologues, an intelligence agent of African descent, and a member of the British House of Lords determined that it was time for Abaco to declare its independence. Their plan was to take over the island and break it away from the Bahamian government by promising each of the native residents of the island a free acre of land after the revolution. (This would have left over a quarter of a million acres for use by the real estate developers and investors behind the project.) The ultimate dream was the establishment on Abaco of a taxless utopia to which wealthy businessmen, dreading the Socialist apocalypse, might flee. Alas for free enterprise, the native Abaconians showed little inclination to throw off their chains, and the proposed new nation was stillborn. Nevertheless, in a World in which nationalist movements battle for power, and in which some 152 state claim membership in that trade association of nations, the United Nations, such parodic gestures serve a useful purpose. They force us to challenge the very notion of nationhood. At the time of the revolution in the 1970s, the population was sixty-five hundred and the question was if the sixty-five hundred people of Abaco, whether financed by oddball businessmen or not, constitute a nation? #RandolphHarris 1 of 24
If Singapore with its 2.3 million people (5.9 million in 2021) is a nation, why not New York City with its 8 million (18.8 million in 2021)? If Brooklyn had jet bombers, would it be a nation? Absurd as they sound, such questions will take on new significance as the Third Wave batters at the very foundations of Second Wave civilization. For one of those foundations was, and is, the nation-state. Until we cut through the foggy rhetoric that surrounds the issue of nationalism, we cannot make sense of the headlines and we cannot understand the conflict between First and Second Wave civilizations as the Third Wave strikes them both. Before the Second Wave began rolling across Europe most regions of the World were not yet consolidated into nations but were organized, rather, into a mishmash of tribes, clans, duchies, principalities, kingdoms, and other more or less local units. “Kings and princes,” write the political scientists S. E. Finer, “held powers in bits and blobs.” Borders were ill-defined, governmental rights fuzzy. The power of the state was not yet standardized. In one village, Professor Finer tells us, it amounted only to the right to collect tolls on a windmill, in another to tax the peasant, elsewhere to appoint an abbot. An individual with property in several different regions might owe allegiance to several lords. Even the greatest of emperors typically ruled over a patchwork of tiny locally-governed communities. Political control was not yet uniform. Voltaire summed it all up: In traveling across Europe, he complained, he had to change laws as frequently as horses. #RandolphHarris 2 of 24
There was more to this quip than met the eye, of course, for the frequent need to change horses reflected the primitive level of transport and communications—which, in turn, reduced the distance over which even the most powerful monarch could impose effective control. The farther from the capital, the weaker the authority of the state. Yet without political integration, economic integration was impossible. Only if they produced goods for larger-than-local markets, could costly new Second Wave technologies be amortized. However, if outside their own communities, they ran into a maze of different duties, taxes, labour regulations, and currencies, how could businessmen buy and sell over a larger territory? For the new technologies to pay off, local economies had to be consolidated into a single national economy. This meant a national division of labour and a national market for commodities and capital. All this, in turn, required national political consolidation as well. Put simply, a Second Wave political unit was needed to match the growth of Second Wave economic units. Not surprisingly, as Second Wave societies began to build national economies, a basic shift in public consciousness became evident. The small-scale local production in First Wave societies had bred a race of highly provincial people—most of whom concerned themselves exclusively with their own neighbourhoods or villages. Only a tiny handful—a few nobles and churchmen, a scattering of merchants, and a social fringe of artists, scholars, and mercenaries—had interests beyond the village. #RandolphHarris 3 of 24
The Second Wave swiftly multiplied the number of people with a stake in the larger World. With steam- and coal-based technologies, and later with the advert of electricity, it became possible for a manufacturer of clothing in Frankfurt, watches in Geneva, or textiles in Manchester to produce far more units than the local market could absorb. He also needed raw materials from afar. The factory worker, too, was affected by financial event occurring thousands of miles away: jobs depended on distant markets. Bit by bit, therefore, psychological horizons expanded. The new mass media increased the amount of information and imagery from far away. Under the impact of these changes, localism faded. National consciousness stirred. Starting with the American and French revolutions and continuing through the nineteenth century, a frenzy of nationalism swept across the industrializing parts of the World. Germany’s three hundred and fifty marginal, diverse, quarreling mini-states needed to be combined into a single national market—das Vaterland. Italy—broken into pieces and ruled variously by the House of Savoy, the Vatican, the Austrian Hapsburgs, and the Spanish Bourbons—had to be united. Hungarians, Serbs, Croats, Frenchmen, and others all suddenly developed mystical affinities for their fellows. Poets exalted the national spirit. Historians discovered long-lost heroes, literature, and folklore. Composers wrote hymns to nationhood. All at precisely the moment when industrialization made it necessary. #RandolphHarris 4 of 24
Once we understand the industrial need for integration, the meaning of the national state becomes clear. Nations are not “spiritual unities” as Spengler termed them, or “mental communities” or “social souls.” Noor is a nation “a rich heritage of memories,” to use Renan’s phrase, or a “shared image of the future,” as Ortega insisted. What we call the modern nation is a Second Wave phenomenon: a single integrated political authority superimposed on or fused with a single integrated economy. A ragbag collection of locally self-sufficient, sparsely connected economies cannot, and does not, give rise to a nation. If it sits atop a loose conglomeration of local economies, nor is a tightly unified political system a modern nation. Nationalist uprisings triggered by the industrial revolution in the United States of America, in France, in Germany and the rest of Europe, can be seen as efforts to bring the level of political integration up to the fast-rising level of economic integration that accompanied the Second Wave. And it was these efforts, not poetry or mystical influences, that led to the division of the World into distinct national units. As each government sought to extend its market and its political authority, it came up again outer limits—language differences, cultural, social, geographic, and strategic barriers. The available transport, communication, and energy supplies, the productivity of its technology, all set limits on how large an area could be effectively ruled by a single political structure. The sophistication of accounting procedures, budgetary controls, and management techniques also determined how far political integration could reach. #RandolphHarris 5 of 24
Within these limits, the integrational elites, corporate and governmental alike, fought for expansion. The broader the territory under their control and the bigger the economic market area, the greater their wealth and power became. As each nation stretched its economic and political frontiers to the utmost, it ran up not merely against these inherent limits but also against rival nations. To break out of these confines the integrational elites used advanced technology. They hurled themselves, for example, into the “space race” of the nineteenth century—the building of railroads. In September 1825 a rail line was established that linked Stockton to Darlington in Britain. In May 1835, on the continent, Brussels was tied to Malines. That September in Bavaria the Nuremberg-Furth line was laid. Next were Paris and St. Germain. Far to the east, in April 1838, Tsarkoe Selo was connected to St. Petersburg. For the next three decades or more, railroad workers stitched one region to another. The French historian Charles Moraze explains: “The countries which were already almost united in 1830 were consolidated by the coming of the railway…those still unprepared saw new bands of steel…tightening around them…It was as if every possible nation was hastening to proclaim its right to exist before the railways were built, so that it might be acknowledged as a nation by transport system which defined the political boundaries of Europe for over a century.” In the United States of America the government awarded vast land grants to the private railroad companies, inspired, as historian Bruce Mazlish has written, by “the conviction that transcontinental roads would strengthen the ties of union between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts.” #RandolphHarris 6 of 24
Hammering in the golden spike that completed the first transcontinental rail line opened the door to a truly national market—integrated on a continental scale. And it extended the actual, as distinct from nominal, control of the national government. Washington could now move troops quickly all across the continent to enforce its authority. What one saw, therefore, in one country after another, was the rise of this powerful new entity—the nation. In this way the World map came to be divided into a set of neat, nonoverlapping patches of red, pink, orange, yellow, or green, and the nation-state system became one of the key structures of Second Wave civilization. Beneath the nation lay the familiar imperative of industrialism: the drive toward integration. However, the drive for integration did not end at the borders of each nation-state. For all its strengths, industrial civilization had to be fed from without. It could not survive unless it integrated the rest of the World into money system and controlled that system for its own benefit. How it did so is crucial to any understanding of the World the Third Wave will create. In examining America’s postwar transformation of rural farm tracts into instant suburbs we must keep in mind several factors. First, without doubt, by far the most important factor in making possible the postwar suburban exodus was the liberalization of loan leading polices by federal government agencies. As noted earlier, prior to the war, mortgages would commonly only be given for a five-year period with a balloon payment at the end. A borrower would have to hope one could get a new mortgage when the note became due. Moreover, the mortgage would cover only half to at most two-thirds the value of the property. #RandolphHarris 7 of 24
The new Veterans Administration loads radically changed all this. The new Veteran Administration (VA) loan guarantees made loans available to veterans at low interest rates, below conventional mortgages, with no money down with a twenty-five- or thirty-year repayment schedule. The Federal Housing Authority (FHA) similarly liberalized its lending policies for nonveterans. The government, in effect, guaranteed the lending institutions profits by agreeing to make good any leans on which the borrower defaulted. This was a truly radical change. Bank suddenly wanted to make loans to millions of middle- and lower-middle-class families who they previously would have spurned. Families with a steady breadwinner could, for the first time, realistically expect to get mortgages to purchase their own homes. Moreover, it was easy to do. The whole process was streamlined by developers such as the Levitt brothers so that all the paperwork could be completed in a few hours. In an era when closing costs run thousands of dollars, it is worth noting that the total closing cost as of 1954 at the second Levittown outside Philadelphia, in New Jersey, was $10 ($100.07 in 2021 dollars). Following World War II, developers rushed to build acres of new suburban subdivisions. The were modest story book houses, and especially designed to be marketed to ex-GIs and their brides. For instance, Argo Homes offered detached brick and stucco bungalows for veterans only for $7,900.00 full price ($79,057.27 in 2021 dollars) for $53 monthly ($530.38 in 2021 dollars), which paid all carrying charges (total principle and interest payment of $636 a year, with a 4 percent mortgage for twenty-five years). Given such terms, veterans could hardly afford not to move to the suburbs. #RandolphHarris 8 of 24
In this particular subdivision, the landscaped plots were 40×100, the houses had 4 rooms, automatic gas heat, fully insulated, large closets, scientific kitchen with built-in cabinets, modern gas range and inlaid linoleum floor, poured concrete foundation, steel lally columns, copper piping, unique balance double hung windows. Government lending policies—whether by design or accident—actively fostered purchasing suburban over city homes. Following World War II, VA and FHA government-guaranteed loans were readily available for new homes in the suburbs. Young veterans could and did purchase new—sometimes still-to-be-built VA and FHA approved suburban subdivision homes with nothing down and mortgage rates below the conventional amount. The above-mentioned Levittown in New Jersey sold homes in the mid-1950s for $8,990 ($89,965.17 in 2021 dollars). Veterans were required only to place a $100 ($1,000.72 in 2021 dollars) good-faith deposit, which was returned at the time of closing. Nonveterans needed only $450 ($4,503.26 in 2021 dollars) down. To purchase existing city homes required far larger down payment. The low housing prices, and particularly the availability of a long-term, no-money-down mortgage, was a crucial factor for new families just becoming economically established. By 1972, the FHA alone had made some 11 million new-home loans. Also important was the fact that purchasing in the city took time. To see if they met FHA standards, existing older homes in the city would have to be inspected, and this took weeks or months. By contrast, once a developer’s plans were approved, all the standardized models of that home he built automatically qualified. #RandolphHarris 9 of 24
By contrast, once a developer’s plans were approved, all the standardized models of that home he built automatically qualified. A family could drive out to a new subdivision, pick a lot, put down a $100 ($644.01 in 2021 dollars from 1972 figures) deposit, and do the majority of the paperwork in a Sunday afternoon. Conventional mortgages were also easier to obtain in suburban locations. Two wars later, this was still the case. The author, a Vietnam-ear veteran with three young children and barely enough for a down payment, found mortgage funds readily available on suburban homes. For homes across the line in the city the funds were harder to obtain, and came with higher interest rates. Second, the Federal government further subsidized out-movement from the cities by initiating, in the 1950s, the construction of a federally financed metropolitan freeway system. Secretary of Commerce Weeks described the building of the national freeway system as, “the greatest public works program in the history of the World.” Without the newly built freeways, many of the new suburban subdivisions would have been all but impossible to reach. Automobile commuting would have been out of the question. The freeways meant distance from the city was now measure in time rather than mileage. Developers often put up billboards advertising their tract development as being, “Only 25 minutes from here.” Ironically, the very freeways that speed commuters from the city were originally pushed to be built by downtown business interests and city mayors. They mistakenly expected that new road would bring more shoppers and businesses downtown. They forgot that the roads could be used to go out rather than in. #RandolphHarris 10 of 24
Third, Following World War II, open land for buildings was almost by definition suburban land. By the 1950s cities had largely developed all the land within their legal boundaries. This was particularly true of the cities in the eastern and middle-western sections of the country. Without annexation, additional growth in urban areas would thus, by definition, have to be suburban growth. By the end of the way, there was an extreme need for new housing. As noted earlier, for over a decade and a half little had been built. The 1930s were the years of the Great Depression, and during the first half of the 1940s, there was World War II. Thus, by the 1950s there was a tremendous pent-up demand for housing, and this demand could only be met in the suburbs. It was not so much that families were fleeing the city; rather, it was that mot of he land available for development was, by definition, suburban. Forth, for decades following World War II, young families bought homes in the suburbs not so much for “togetherness” or to escape the supposed ills of the city, but because houses in suburban subdevelopment were both more available and more affordable with larger lots than those in the city. However, in communities like Pocket/Greenhaven in Sacramento, California USA; families did want to be close to each other and not live together, so many of the bought homes in the same community to have a sense of a true community, but with separation and privacy. In attempts to analyze he postwar move to the suburbs, this basic economic motivation is often given less weight than it deserves. #RandolphHarris 11 of 24
Economic, more than social-psychological needs for togetherness, propelled young could to the suburbs. In many cases it was more economical and safer to buy in the suburbs than to rent in the city. Safety concerns is why, before becoming President, Governor of California (1967-1975) Ronald Reagan’s wife, Nancy Reagan decided to move out of the Governor’s Mansion, and left in to the California State Parks to be managed as Governor’s Mansion State Historic Park. The mansion was built in 1877, and after the First Lady of California felt it was not a safe community, it sat vacant until 2015 and again is unoccupied since 2019. A family with a mortgage on a tract house in the suburbs found that monthly principal and financing costs usually were lower than on available housing in the city. Moreover, taxes were almost always lower than in the central city. This was in part because developers rarely put in the “extras,” such as city water, sewers, parks, sidewalks, curbs, street lighting, and, of course, schools that were taken as givens in the city. In time the demand for services and the assessments to pay for them increased in new suburbs. However, the initial front-end costs were ow and in a rough fashion met the needs of those at the beginning of their work careers who expected their incomes to increase with time. The 1950 and 1960 constituted a period in which unionization had brought even blue-collar workers high wages and benefits. Fifth, survey data consistently show that Americans have a strong preference for single-family home on their own lots. This is the type of housing that was most commonly built in the suburbs in the decades following the war. #RandolphHarris 12 of 24
The homes in the original Levittown in Long Island were modestly beautiful Cape Cod houses. The architectural characteristics denoted a home that was generally with a steep roof, shingled exterior, symmetrical façade, with a large chimney in the middle, and built on a slab. The Cape Cod architecture was considered all-American, as fresh as grandmother’s apple pie, and people stood in line for days waiting to get one. Planners and architects decried these subdivisions of little boxes, “all made out of ticky-tack and all in a row,” but they were vastly popular with the buying public. Lewis Mumford and other critics might rail about the problems of poor design and one-social-class communities, but people literally lined up to buy houses in the newly opened Levittown and other suburban developments. Actually, even if buyers wanted one, there was not a choice. Apartments were not covered by GI loans, and town houses were not being built. Still, even if people are given a choice between high-rise units, town houses, or single-family homes, suburban sprawl will win every time! This is true even for those without children. Research indicates that most families living in apartment buildings view their residency as temporary location before moving to a single-family house. If a suburban home is too expensive, a suburban town house, or even a garden apartment, may be temporarily substituted. Even those academics holding neo-Marxian views, which see suburban sprawl as a product of conscious decisions made by powerful economic interests, still acknowledges that people want single-family homes on separate lots. Imagine that, even socialists and communists like private property. #RandolphHarris 13 of 24
Suburban critics may feel that such housing is a blight on the landscape, but others believe when it is tastefully done and includes nature and the neighbourhood does not look like a parking lot, there is no question suburban sprawl looks like a glimpse of Heaven and is what the masses of the population wanted after the war and still want as we approve the half century mark. Postwar suburbia was “caused” by demographic changes. The return of both the veterans and of economic prosperity created a marriage boom that was followed in short order by the famous “baby boom.” The latter lasted from 1947 to 1964. Existing housing in cities and towns was simply not adequate for absorbing the exploding number of new families. Some 10 million new households were created in the decade after the war. In the tight postwar market, they were not welcome as renter. The result was that young couples with children were more or less forced from the overcrowded cities toward the new built standard-format suburb. And anyway, many families did not feel safe with their children living in cities because of the traffic and the rift raft the jails attracted. They needed space to grow families—a need that suburban developers were delighted to fill. “As a rule, the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling,” (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 1891-92). #RandolphHarris 14 of 24
At the core of the religious impulse is a sense of awe, an attitude of bewilderment, a feeling that reality is more amazing than everyday scientific reasoning can comprehend. Wonder-struck, we humbly acknowledge our limits and accept that which we cannot explain. For many religious people the ultimate threat of science is therefore that it will demystify life, destroying our sense of wonder and with it our readiness to believe in and worship an unseen reality. Once we regarded flashes of lightening and explosions of thunder as supernatural magic. Now we understand the natural and humanmade process at work. Once we viewed certain mental disorders as demon possession. Now we are coming to discern genetic, biochemical, and stress-linked causes. Once we prayed that God would spare children from COVID-19. Now we vaccinate them. Understandably, some Christians might get the idea that science is elbowing out religion. We can also understand why such people therefore grasp at hints of the supernatural—at bizarre phenomena that science cannot explain. Browse your neighbourhood religious bookstore and you will find books that describe happenings that defy natural explanation—people reading minds or foretelling the future, levitating objects or influencing the roll of a die, discerning the contents of sealed envelopes or solving cases that dumbfounded detective. Whether viewed as a divine gift or as demonic activity, such a phenomena are said to refute a mechanistic Worldview that has no room for supernatural mysteries. Most research psychologist and professional magicians (who are wary of the exploitation of their arts in the name of psychic powers) are skeptical, for several reasons. #RandolphHarris 15 of 24
They are skeptical because in the study of ESP and the paranormal there has been a distressing history of fraud and deception; most people’s beliefs in ESP are now understandable as a by-product of the efficient but occasionally misleading ways in which our minds process information; the accumulating evidence regarding the brain-mind connection more and more weighs against the theory that the human mind can function or travel separately from the brain; and, more important, there has never been demonstrated a reproducible ESP phenomenon, nor has there been found any individual who could defy chance when carefully rested. One National Research Council investigation of ESP concluded that “the best available evidence does not support the contention that these phenomena exist.” And in 1995, a CIA-commissioned report evaluated ten years of military testing of psychic spies, in which $20 million ($35, 327, 427.82 in 2021 dollars) had been invested. The result? The program produced nothing, and the psychic spy program was scrapped. After one hundred and twenty-five years of research, and after hundreds of failed attempts to claim a $1-million prize that has for two decades been offered to the first person who can demonstrate “any paranormal ability,” many parapsychologists conceded that what they need to give their field credibility is a single reproducible phenomenon and a theory to explain it. #RandolphHarris 16 of 24
We Christians can side with scientific skeptics on the ESP issue. We can heed not only the repeated biblical warnings against being misled by self-professed psychics who practice “divination” or “magic spells and charms,” but also the scientific spirit of Deuteronomy: “If a prophet speaks in the name of the Lord and what He does not come true, then it is not the Lord’s message.” We believe that humans are finite creature made by the one who declares, “I am God, and there is no one like me.” We are aware of how cult leaders have seduced people with pseudopsychic tricks. And we affirm that God alone is omniscient (the able to read minds and know the future), omnipresent (thus able to be in two places a once), and omnipotent (the capable of altering—or, better yet, creating—nature with divine power). In the biblical view, humans, loved by God, have dignity but not deity. If our senses of mystery is not to be found in the realm of the pseudosciences and the occult, then where? Having cleared he decks of false mysteries, where shall we find the genuine mysteries of life? We can take our clue from Sherlock Holmes, who was fond of telling people: “It is a mistake to confound strangeness with mystery. The most commonplace crime is often the most mysterious. Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence.” The more scientists learn about sensation, the more convinced they are that what is truly extraordinary is not extrasensory perception, claims for which inevitably dissolve upon investigation, but rather our very ordinary moment-to-moment sensory experiences of organizing formless neural impulses into colourful sights and meaningful sounds. #RandolphHarris 17 of 24
As you read this sentence, particles of light energy are being absorbed by the receptor cells of your eyes, converted into neural signal that activate neighbouring cells, which process the information for a third layer of cells, which converge to form a nerve tract that transmits a million electrochemical message per moment up to the brain. There, step by step, the page you are viewing is reassembled into its component features and finally—in some as yet mysterious way—composed into a consciously perceived image, which is instantly compared with previously stored images and recognized as words you know. The whole process is rather like taking a house apart, splinter by splinter, transporting it to a different location, and then, through the work of millions of specialized workers, putting it back together. All of this transpires in a fraction of a second. Moreover, it is continuously transpiring in motion, in three dimensions, and in colour. Twenty-five years of research on computer vision has no yet begun to duplicate this very ordinary, taken-for-granted part of our current experience. Further, unlike virtually all computers, which process information one step at a time, the human brain carries out countless other operations simultaneously, enabling us all at once to sense the environment, use common sense, converse, experience emotion, and consciously reflect on the meaning of our existence or even to wonder about our brain activity while wondering. The deeper one explores these very ordinary things of life, the more one empathizes with Job: “I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me.” #RandolphHarris 18 of 24
To be sure, sometimes we use the word mystery not in its deep sense, as when the mind seeks to fathom it brain, but rather to refer to unsolved scientific puzzles. When wonder is based merely on ignorance, it will fade in the growing light of understanding. Science is a puzzle-solving activity. Among the still unsolved puzzles of psychology are questions such as, Why do we dream? Why do some of us become heterosexual, others homosexual? How does the brain store memories? The scientific detectives are at work on these “mysteries,” and they may eventually offer us convincing solutions. Already, new ideas are emerging and progress is occurring. Often, however, the process of answering one question exposes more and sometimes deeper questions. A new understanding may lead to a new, more impenetrable sense of wonder regarding phenomena that seem further than ever from explanation or that now seems more beautifully intricate than previously imagined. Not long ago scientists wondered how individual nerve cell communicated with one another. The answer—that they communicated through chemical messengers called neurotransmitters—raised new questions: How many neurotransmitters exist? What are the functions of each? Do abnormalities in neurotransmitter functioning predispose disorders such as schizophrenia and depression? If so, how might such problems be remedied? And how, from the electrochemical activity of the brain, do experienced emotions and thoughts arise: How does a material brain give rise to consciousness? #RandolphHarris 19 of 24
Deeper and deeper go to the questions, the deepest one of all being the impenetrable mystery behind the origin of the Universe: Why is there something and not nothing? (If a miracle is something that cannot be explained in terms of something else, then the existence of the Universe is a miracle that dwarfs any other our minds can conceive.) Human consciousness has long been a thing of wonder. More recently, wonder has also grown regarding the things our minds do subconsciously, automatically, out of sight. Our minds detect and process information without awareness. They automatically organize our perceptions and interpretations. They respond intelligently, via the brain’s right hemisphere, in ways that we can explain only if our left hemisphere is informed of what is going on. They effortlessly encode incoming information about the place, timing, and frequency of events we experience, about words meanings, about unattended stimuli. They ponder problems we are stumped with, and they occasionally spew forth a spontaneous creative insight. With the assistance of hypnosis, they may even, on orders, eliminate warts on one side of the body but not on others. There is, we now know, more to our minds than we are away of. And how fortunate that it should be so. For the more that routine functions (including well-learned activities such as walking, biking, or gymnastics) are delegated to control systems outside of awareness, the more our consciousness is freed to function like an executive—by focusing on the more important problems at hand. Our brains operate rather like BMW, with a few important matters decided by chair of the board, and everything else, thankfully, handled automatically, effortlessly, and usually competently be amazingly intricate native infotainment system. #RandolphHarris 20 of 24
Language researchers, too, have been awestruck by an amazing phenomenon: the ease with which children acquire language. Before children can add two and two they are creating their own grammatically intelligible sentences and comprehending the even more complex sentences spoke to them. Most parents cannot state the intricate rules of grammar. Yet before being able to tie their shoes, preschoolers are soaking up the complexities of language by learning several new words a day and the rules for how to combine them. They do so with a facility that puts to shame many college students who struggle to learn a new language with correct accents and many computer scientists who are struggling to simulate natural language on computers. Moreover, they, and we, do so with minimal comprehensions of how we do it—how we, when speaking, monitor our muscles, order our syntax, watch out for semantic catastrophes risked by the slightest change in word order, continuously adjust our tone of voice, facial expression, and gestures, and manage to say something meaningful when it would be so easy to speak gibberish. Our womb-to-tomb individual development is equally remarkable. What is more ordinary than humans reproducing themselves, and what is more wonder-full? Consider the incredible god fortune that brought each one of us into existence. The process began as a mature egg was released by the ovary and as some 300 million sperm began heir upstream race toward it. Against all odds, you—or, more exactly, the very sperm cell together with the very egg it would take to make you—won this one-in-300 million lottery (actually one in billions, considering that your conception had to occur from particular unions involving pleasures of the flesh). #RandolphHarris 21 of 24
What is more, a chain of equally improbable events, beginning with the conception of your parents and their discovery of one another, had to have extended backward in time for the possibility of your moment to have arrived. Indeed, when one considers the improbable sequence of unnumerable events that led to your conception, from the birth of the Universe onward, one cannot escape the conclusion that your birth and your death anchor the two ends of a continuum of probabilities. What is more improbable than that you, rather than one of your infinite alternatives, should exist? What is more certain than that you will not live on Earth endlessly? Most beings of life fail to survive the first week of existence. However, again, for you, good fortune prevailed. Your one cell became two, which became four; and then by the end of your first week even more astonishing thing happened: brain cells began forming and within weeks were multiplying at a rate of about one-quarter million per minute. The scientist-physician Lewis Thomas explains the wonder of that single cell, which had as its descendant all the cells of the human brain. The mere existence of that cell should be one of the greatest astonishments of Earth. People ought to be walking around all day, all through their waking hour, calling to each other in endless wonderment, talking of nothing except that cell. If you like being surprised, there is the source. One cell is switched on to become the whole trillion-cell, massive apparatus for thinking and imagining and, for that matter, being surprised. #RandolphHarris 22 of 24
All the information needed for learning to read and write, playing the piano, arguing before senatorial subcommittees, walking across a street through traffic, or the marvelous human act of putting out one hand and leaning against a tree, is contained in the first cell. All of grammar, all syntax, all arithmetic, all music. No one has the ghost of an idea how this works, and nothing else in life can ever be do puzzling. If anyone doe succeed in explaining, it, within my lifetime I will charter a skywriting airplane, maybe a whole fleet of them and send them aloft to write one great exclamation point after another, around the whole sky, until all my money runs out. Human life—so ordinary, so familiar, so natural, and yet so extraordinary. Looking for mystery in things bizarre, we feel cheated when later we learn that a hoax or a simple process explains it away. All the while we miss the awesome events occurring before, or even within, our very eyes. The extraordinary within the ordinary. So it was on that Christmas morning two millennia ago. The most extraordinary event of history—the Lord of the Universe coming to the spaceship Earth in human form—occurred in so ordinary a way as hardly to be noticed. On a mundane winter day at an undistinguished inn in an average little town the extraordinary one was born of an ordinary peasant woman. Like our human kin at Bethlehem and Nazareth long ago, we, too, are often blind to the mystery within things ordinary. We look for wonders and for the unseen reality—the hand of God—in things extraordinary, when more often His presence is to be found in the unheralded, familiar, everyday, events of which life is woven. #RandolphHarris 23 of 24
O Lord, Thou art on the sandbanks as well as in the midst of the current; I bow to Thee. Thou art in the little pebbles as well as in the calm expanse of the sea; I bow to Thee. O all-pervading Lord, Thou art in the barren soil and in crowded places; I bow to Thee. We thankfully acknowledge that Thou art the Lord our God and God of our fathers, the God of all that lives, our Creator and Creator of the Universe. We offer blessings and thanksgiving to Thy great and holy name because Thou hast kept us in the life and sustained us; so mayest Thou continue to keep us in life and sustain us. O gather our exiles into the courts of Thy holy sanctuary to observe Thy statues, to do Thy will, and to serve Thee with a perfect heart. We give thanks unto Thee. Blessed be God to whom we are ever grateful. For all this, Thy name, O our King, shall be blessed and exalted for ever and ever. May all the living do homage unto Thee forever and praise Thy name in truth, O God, who art our salvation and our help. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Beneficent One, unto whim our thanks are due. Our God and God of our fathers, bless us with the threefold blessing written in the Book of Mormon and Holy Bible, and in the Torah of Moses, Thy servant, and spoken by Aaron and his sons, Thy consecrated priests: May the Lord bless thee and keep thee; so may it His will. May the Lord make His countenance to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee; so may it be His will. May the Lord turn His countenance unto thee and give thee peace. So may it be His will. Please grant peace, well-being and blessing unto the World, with grace, lovingkindness and mercy for us and for all America, Thy people. To love and win is the best thing. To love and lose is the next best. #RandolphHarris 24 of 24
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Randolph Harris II International 