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Northumbria, in its heyday the most advanced country in the
island of Britain, was converted to Christianity by a single
sparrow. Let those who are curious to know how listen to this
ancient Anglo-Saxon unlocking his word-hoard more than 1350
years ago:
"It seems to me, beloved king, that the present time on
earth, compared with that time of which we have no
knowledge, is like when thou art sitting at dinner with
thine ealdermen and thanes in winter-time, and the fire lit
and thy hall heated, and it's raining and snowing and
hailing; and there arrives one sparrow from outside and
flies swiftly through the hall, and entering through one
door, leaving through the other. Now, while he's inside he's
not touched by the winter's storm; but that's only a
twinkling of an eye and the shortest space of time, and from
a winter he immediately returns to a winter. So man's life
appears for a short interval: what went before it, and what
comes after it, we don't know. Therefore, if this new
doctrine brings forth anything more certain, it is only
fitting that we should follow it."
So spoke this counselor at the witenagemot, the memorable
meeting held by Edwin, the king, to decide whether to accept the
new faith. And accept it he did.
The translation given here is a rather plain one. Other, older
renderings give a more graphic description of the sparrow's
flight and embellish the story by making the courtier's speech
more logical and literary than it really was; and more moral to
boot. Where its reasoning was rather pragmatic the modern words
may not unambiguously convey this. What is more important is
that a part of the story, namely an earlier speech by another
counselor, may not be retold at all, as it almost never is.
I now refer to the counselor who had until then been the chief
priest of the Northumbrian polytheists (called "pagans" by later
monotheists) and who advised the king to embrace the Christian
faith because it would be prudent to do so. His own devotion
to the old Germanic religion had not done him much good, he
explained, complaining that he had always obeyed the gods more
zealously than others, had joined in their observances more
carefully and joyfully than others, and yet had received fewer
gifts and less benefit from it. Also this person fell for the
new Abraham religion from South-West Asia as the old North-West
European mythology had turned out to hold nothing of use anymore.
To be honest, it was not one lecherous sparrow all on its own
that converted the king and his nobles and with them the whole
of Northumbria, even if in name only. There were also the
materialistic concerns so well expressed by the first counselor
with almost equal pathos but considerably less imagination; and
there was the fact that the king's Kentish wife was already a
member of the church. It is the second counselor's speech tho,
which -- at any rate among British Christianists -- is, perhaps,
the best-known passage from Bede's Ecclesiastical History of
the English Nation. It has been offered as a key, not only to
the success of Christianity, but to the general conditions and
frame of mind in the Early Middle Ages. The brevity of life and
existential uncertainty are recurrent themes in the literature
of the time. And indeed, if the Christian doctrine with its apparently
superior mythology did manage to lengthen (human) life,
did reveal any 'true knowledge' not revealed by any other
doctrine (science included), and if that knowledge were of a
relevance not realized in any other doctrine, it would only seem
and remain right to join the sparrow and not let it go.
However, when i[1], in this day and age, look at
the old denominational paradigm that has reigned until now, not only in
the land between the Humber and Firth of Forth but in many other
regions of the world as well, from the standpoint of the one to
come, it seems to me, first of all, that the sparrow is not
convincing anymore. There are weaknesses, if not fallacies, in
the simile itself which should have been noticed immediately
when it was introduced. The ancient assumed the weather outside
the hall to be severe, with storms of rain, snow and hail
raging, and 'e[2] likened these wintry conditions
to the times before and after people's short lives. So 'e did claim to know
certain basic things about the period before birth or conception
and the period after death, about human pre- and post-existence
or nonexistence. Even life itself, of which everyone may claim
to know something, is, however short, not a feast in a
banqueting hall, safe from discomfort. While it may be sunny
outside, the hall, too, will see the seamy side of life, and
this will be experienced so long as there is life. Where there
is no life at all anymore there simply is neither happiness nor
unhappiness.
When i look at the old denominational paradigm that has reigned
until now from the standpoint of the one to come, i seldom see
a sparrow flying in and out of a banqueting hall. Believing it
to be really safe and comfortable inside, with a wonderful fire
warming the hall, by far the greater majority of today's
sparrows stay inside, not in the least planning to vanish into
the unknown; and certainly not planning to fly out on their own.
Ignorant of what is to be found beyond the supernatural pale of
heaven and hell, of deity and demon, they sojourn on this
middle-earth for a short while only. The hall has doors but they
will not use them. The sacred birds of Aphrodite, goddess of love, content
themselves with the hot air near the ceiling, the bread crumbs on the
floor, the liquid left over in the cups. They sing, but their dull song has
not changed, not improved for centuries, for millenniums.
Similarly, most people may have followed and may continue to
follow religion for selfish, limited social or utilitarian
reasons (just as others may oppose it for the same, improper
reasons). It seemed pleasant to them, was comforting and
promised a happy after-life for those who submitted to it. They
did not and do not want to be bothered with questions of truth:
Can the happy after-life be made good? Has the world really been
created by an anthropomorphic being, by one such being? With
questions of relevance and inclusiveness: What matters, values
or gods? Whence do the asymmetries between men and women, girls
and boys, come; whither do they go? With questions of
personhood: Is someone chosen, perhaps conceived, to be a
Christian, a Muslim, or does 'e choose to be one? Most
remarkably, they do not even want to be bothered with questions
of happiness: Does it serve humanity's, even one's personal
happiness in the long run to believe in a tribal, male,
anthropoid god that epitomizes power as something perfect in
itself? Is there no connection with ethnic troubles, with sexist
attitudes, with a speciesist lack of respect for nonhuman
nature, with power struggles in general, and religious warfare
in particular?
Contemporary factual, modal and normative questions which have a
direct bearing on the tenability of 'er[2] total
world-view are evaded by the sparrow of the old faith: 'e runs away from
contemporary answers to them, 'e flees them. This is the flight of
today's sparrow. Rather than following a denominational doctrine
that knows how to deal with such questions in a better way, the
convert to Christianism accepts a faith that does not pose them
or that equivocates when asked about its myths, its symbols, its
historical records. Worshiping one god instead of several (or
many) the convert to monotheism accepts a faith that is equally
theocentric and patriarchal as before; and still supernaturalistic,
still exclusivistic and extremistic; sometimes
less so, often more so. After having lingered in the King's
banqueting hall for so many hundreds of years it is high time
for the sparrow to leave thru that one door that opens out not
only to a more moderate, well-balanced and harmonious life but
also to an existence which, wherever it may be, is inclusive and
genuine.
Languishing for want of a fresh view of contemporary matters and
torn apart by its fundamental and symbolical contradictions the
monotheist successor of polytheist religion is about to collapse
itself today, after, perhaps, one or two short -- but goodness
knows how bloody or oppressive -- revivals tomorrow. Just as the
gods once became idols to be abandoned in favor of the one god,
so that one God must in turn become Idol to be abandoned in
favor of the Norm, the primacy of norms and values over all gods
and demons. If a new doctrine brings forth anything more
relevant and less untrue, anything more respectful to persons
and less extreme, it is only fitting that we should follow it.
| [1] |
i refers to the writer if and when not considering
'imself[2] a God or Somebody created in His
image |
| [2] |
'e, 'imself and 'er are used here as
third-person, that is, gender-transcending, pronouns |
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