Celebrating the Year of Calvin

What with Poe's, Darwin's and Lincoln's 200th birthdays, Americans just haven't focused on the opportunity provided by John Calvin's 500th anniversary, coming up in July.  Good thing that the Dutch are taking the lead on planning the festivities.  But, what sort of festivities does one plan for John Calvin?  Either one doesn't see much reason to celebrate him or one doesn't celebrate much at all. It's a conundrum. 

A Dutch colleague sent me news about the anti-celebration commemoration.  It was drawn by an artist named Kamagurka and published in the NRC Handlesblad (a Rotterdam newspaper) on January 15th of this year.

That's John Calvin above, wearing his usual hat. The text is in Dutch. (It's always been a bit of an embarrassment to some people that Calvin didn't speak Dutch; his Frenchness was an historical accident.)  As stern as ever, here's what he says:  "Above all else, don't celebrate!"  

English-speaking world: you heard it here first.

Apologies for any copyright infringements.  It was too good not to steal.  My depravity made me do it.

Obama's First Inaugural

I've never anticipated a speech before. What will he say? I'm no expert; so therefore, I can say unequivocally that the best inaugural ever was Lincoln's second. Here's a reminder:

One-eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was somehow the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union even by war, while the Government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with or even before the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces, but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has His own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh." If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether."

Obama has cultivated his connection with Lincoln, notably in his victory speech. Next month sees that Great Soul's bicentennial, so he's sure to feature in the 2009 inaugural address. But what will this senator from Illinois say in his inauguration? Will he make a play to match the best of Lincoln? If so, it has to be an entirely different kind of speech. Lincoln's second inaugural is too dark for the early twenty-first century. Americans think of themselves as victims of Bush, of Islamicists, of Wall Street, of anyone but themselves. We would take great umbrage at the thought of any repayments with our own blood.

Lincoln was a famous melancholic. Obama built his political career on hope. So I'm betting that the similarities with the message Lincoln's second inaugural will be limited. We'll get a great speech on Hope. But can a speech on hope light a candle to Lincoln's second inaugural? Don't get me wrong; I'm all for hope. I'll stay home to watch it and probably mist up. But what I don't know yet is how Obama will remind Americans of their own responsibilities. What of righteous judgments? Of the possibility that we ourselves will be judged?

I have hope for our new President. After what we've been through, that's not so hard. But I'm wondering how he and America will grapple with melancholic realities.

Redtails in Winter

Walking home shortly after New Year's, campus was deserted. It was extremely cold. No students, no little animals, no traffic. I heard this odd, high cry, repeated and repeated. At the corner I saw two redtails up the block landing on a fire escape. I was the only person there. No wonder the squirrels were hiding. All this for me alone? Should I wave down passers by?

The crying bird was on the lower railing, back flat, head up, begging. It didn't look young, but acted it. The mother (I presume) was a flight up, impervious, only now and then flapping. So bitter & still, except for the baby's cries! I watched for a while. Two passing cars slowed. One pedestrian joined me. The baby persisted, the mother was unmoved. Eventually, she raised her huge wings and flew. The baby stayed, but now had no reason to beg. I moved on.

Later, I saw her on a chimney. The next day, I saw one flying high above the green. Yesterday a graduate student phoned to say one was on a street near campus, perched low in a tree, watching humans hunt for parking spaces.

The City of New York

We went to New York after New Year's. When we arrived a Penn Station and emerged onto 7th Ave, Daisy said, "Is
this New York City?" I said, "Yes, Daisy, this is New York City." A newspaper vendor heard us and interjected: "No, THIS is the City of New York." It was said with pride and warmth, a welcome. It reminded me of the humanity I always encounter there, in the busyness and among the crowds. I like seeing how New Yorkers live with many, many others and still retain their humor and generosity.