To Know God Is To Know Mercy

Luke 16:19-31

"There was a certain rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day. But there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, full of sores, who was laid at his gate, desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. Moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. So it was that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham's bosom. The rich man also died and was buried.

"And being in torments in Hades, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. Then he cried and said, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.' But Abraham said, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and you are tormented. And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass to us.'

"Then he said, 'I beg you therefore, father, that you would send him to my father's house, for I have five brothers, that he may testify to them, lest they also come to this place of torment.' Abraham said to him, 'They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.' And he said, 'No, father Abraham; but if one goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' But he said to him, 'If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead.'"

To know God is to know mercy. You may think that an odd theme coming from this text. After all, the rich man was shown no mercy. Father Abraham rebuffed every one of his requests. He was left in torment without end; even his surviving brothers seemed hopeless. You may wonder how this story should remind you of God’s mercy. The problem is, we’re starting at the wrong end of the story. The rich man’s fate illustrates a lesson Jesus taught many times and in many ways. The rich man did not show mercy; therefore he did not know God. If you know God truly, your faith rests on the peace Jesus made between you and God. And therefore your life is shaped by mercy; your dealings with your neighbor are marked with mercy. For if you do not show mercy, that is a sure sign that you do not know the mercy of God.

The rich man should have known God’s mercy. Like his brothers, he had Moses and the Prophets; he had the sacred Scriptures testifying of what God was doing to redeem mankind. He had the testimony of the Law and Prophets showing God’s determination to save sinners and give salvation to the lost. And being rich, he had so much to give thanks for, so many blessings to remind him of the goodness of the Lord. The Lord had shown him mercy, but he showed none to others. The Lord had given him more than he needed, but he gave nothing to those who had only their need. He hoarded his wealth. He showed off, luxuriating in rich clothing and food every day. He lived in a gated house, which even today’s economy might call a palace. He was happy, but he was not merciful. Poor Lazarus, a beggar covered with sores, lay outside his gates where dogs licked him. He prayed to eat only the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Lazarus wanted only mercy; and the rich man, who could more than afford to give it, did not.

And so, as Abraham observed, the tables were turned after they died. The rich man had gotten his share of God’s blessings while living, and since he had shown no mercy in life, he would be shown no mercy after it. Poor Lazarus had suffered his share of torment while living, and having suffered the trials of Job in this life, he received the reward of Job in the next. The rich man had everything but faith in this life, and so in death he lost everything. Lazarus had nothing but faith on earth, and so in heaven he gained everything.

To know God is to know mercy. Perhaps that is better put: to know mercy is to know God. If you have been blessed, give glory to God. If you have your heart’s desire, that is his gift. If you have more than you need, that is God’s gift to you—and to others through you. And if you know his word, you know the mercy he has shown you, a sinner, in Jesus Christ. You know he loves you, even though you were bent on evil from the day you were born. You know that this love, all undeserved, moved him to save you. You know that for you Jesus Christ, God’s Son, suffered the rejection of Lazarus and the misery of hell.

Can you even begin to fathom what mercy God has shown to you? He has made himself the victim for your sin, the sacrifice for your redemption. Graciously, freely, lovingly, mercifully he has forgiven all your sins. He has bridged the great chasm with the cross of Jesus Christ; he has plucked you out of hell, and opens his bosom to you. You have been blessed; you have been shown such mercy. And this mercy has been made known to you through the Word and Sacraments that proclaim salvation in Jesus Christ. You did not have these things coming; they are gifts from God.

Do you realize how much mercy you have received? It is hard to tell sometimes. Sometimes you gripe and complain as though put upon by every inconvenience. Sometimes you act as if you are entitled to all the blessings you have received in this life, and become discouraged when they are mixed with pains or sorrows. You sometimes forget the greater blessings in store for you in the next life, the most important mercy God has shown you by making you an heir of eternal life. You are thus forgetful of God’s mercy when age, declining health, and reversals of fortune make you bitter and angry. You are forgetful when selfishness, worry, or hardness of heart prevents you from giving your firstfruits to the kingdom, or from sharing your abundance with others in need.

You have been shown mercy, but do you know it? And if you know it, do you show it? For to know mercy is to know God. Do you know what it cost our Lord to redeem you and save you? Do you know how precious the forgiveness of sins is? Do you know that it is his gift to you, with out any regard for your merits or deserts—which in fact are worth nothing! It is sometimes hard to tell whether you know this or not. How many of you are like the unmerciful servant, who was forgiven much but refused to forgive a little? How many of you bear grudges and practice the ethic of “never forgive, never forget”? Having been shown much mercy, do you forget to show mercy? Having become captive to the Gospel, do you shrink from sharing that Gospel with others in need? Having this hope in you, how often have you tried to give hope to the hopeless, to lift up the fallen, to bind up the brokenhearted, to feed the Lazaruses who yearn in vain for the living bread of heaven?

If knowing mercy is knowing God, how well do you know God? If being shown mercy leads to your showing mercy, where is the evidence that you have been shown mercy? If being forgiven and reconciled with God implies being reconciled to your fellow man, why are you not at peace with one and all? Jesus warns, “If you do not forgive your neighbor his trespasses, neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.” It is not that you must do these things to earn God’s forgiveness; but if you live by God’s mercy, you will live it out. If you know the mercy God has shown you, you will show mercy to the next man. If not, then it is self-evident that you do not live by God’s mercy. The end of selfishness and of self-righteousness is one: in the words of the rich man, “I am in agony in this flame.”

Our Lord Jesus says in Luke 6: “If ye love them that love you, what thank have you? even sinners love those that love them. And if you do good to them that do good to you, what thank have you? even sinners do the same. And if you lend to them from whom you hope to receive, what thank have you? for sinners also lend to sinners, to get as much back. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping to get nothing back; and your reward shall be great, and you shall be the children of the Highest: for he is kind to the unthankful and the evil.” This speech is not about, “do good, so good may be done to you.” The key is as Jesus concluded: “He is kind to the unthankful and evil.” When you do these things, you do what God has done; in effect, you live out the mercy on which your faith rests. You are the unthankful and evil to whom God has shown kindness. When you do likewise, you show yourselves to be “children of the Highest.” Jesus continues: “Be therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful... forgive, and you shall be forgiven: Give, and it shall be given to you... For with the same measure that you give, it shall be measured to you in return.”

These works have been prepared beforehand that you should walk in them. Not that you earn God’s good favor thereby. On the contrary, as you show undeserved love and forgiveness to others, you are following the pattern by which God has dealt with you. You love as he first loved you; by so loving, you make sure that you are God’s children. The words, “With the same measure that you give shall it be given to you again,” or, “Forgive and you shall be forgiven,” are not a bargain but a promise, attached to a visible sign—like the Sacraments, that bring us forgiveness in a way we can taste, touch, and see.

This promise means you can stake everything you have on being forgiven by God, when you as God’s child forgive your neighbor. You can give your all without worry or fear, because God gives to you. And you have nothing to lose in showing mercy to another, because you are given all you need by God’s free grace and mercy. The world can take away everything you have, but it cannot take away God’s mercy toward you.

God is merciful to the unthankful and evil; it is so hard, even impossible, for us to do likewise. That only shows again how great is God’s mercy toward us. Whatever sort of Christian you are, the fact that you do not show mercy as it has been shown to you, means you are a sinner. You need God’s mercy more than ever; to the extent that you do not show mercy to others, you need mercy shown to you again and again. You need forgiveness, you need to be reminded of God’s blessings through the Gospel. You need to be enfolded anew in your heavenly Father’s arms; you need to be snatched away from the abyss.

For the habit of sin never leaves you, and the very essence of sin is to think yourself entitled to things that are only yours by God’s grace. As long as you are not perfect, you need God’s forgiveness; as long as you do not give graciously to others, you need God to give his grace to you. So you need the Means of Grace every day for the rest of your life! While you live in this world, you are like Lazarus—a beggar. Luther said, “We are beggars, every one.” We bring nothing to God, we make no claims for ourselves; we are, rather, penitent sinners, seeking God’s merciful gifts as a dog seeks morsels off its master’s plate.

Yes, we can be sure he will have compassion and give us what we seek; still we are beggars, not presumptuous; we count on his mercy, not on what we have done. We have nothing of our own to bring him, so we come empty-handed and beg. We depend on the overflowing goodness of the Lord. We expect to find favor with God since Jesus won it for us on the cross. When you come looking for mercy, you find God. You need no more, you can ask no more. If you know what you are, a sinner; and if you know God as he is for His Son’s sake, then you know mercy, forgiveness, and life. To know God is to know mercy.

The mistake of the rich man was to trust in what he had. In the realm of eternity that does no good. That he did not show mercy to Lazarus was not the reason he went to hell. That was an outward symptom of his underlying problem: he did not know himself as a beggar before God, nor God as the one who has mercy on sinners. He showed by his life that he did not know mercy; therefore he did not know God. Lazarus, on the other hand, had nothing but need, the need for mercy. Finding none from man, he found it in God.

Now when some people lose something, or their affairs take a down-turn, they ask “Why me?” and think that God has withdrawn his mercies from them. That is not being a beggar, but rather, the same reckless pride that destroyed the rich man. It comes from the idea that I’m a good person and I deserve better, that God has wronged me somehow. Apparently Lazarus made no such claims; in spite of his vast poverty and pain, he lay at the mercy of God and man as a beggar, with nothing but need. He asked no sign or immediate answer to his prayers; he waited in hope to the end. Though he never got better and saw no confirmation of what he hoped for, he died in faith and was carried to Abraham’s bosom.

Isn’t that something? Only God can, and does, give such faith to us. He gives it not by dramatic signs, nor should we ask for them. Neither miraculous healings, nor speaking in tongues, sudden wealth, nor warm feelings bring us to faith in him—only the word proclaimed, the Gospel that tells what Jesus did for us; only the Word of Scripture that testifies of the Word made flesh; only the saving word that washes us in baptism, feeds us the Lord’s Body and Blood, forgives us our sins. That is where faith comes from.

Jesus predicted that even his rising from the dead would not convince those who rejected him. His resurrection did not bring about the repentance of those who had crucified him. But this prediction, couched in Abraham’s words to the rich man, does not permit us to sneer at first-century Jews. This means us too. If you are waiting for a sign that God is merciful, you already have it. You have that sign in the Word and Sacraments he has given to this church. You can draw assurance from the promises God fulfilled in Jesus Christ, and be that much more sure of the promises yet to be fulfilled. You can see God’s mercy in the blessings he has poured out in your life, but woe if you put your trust in them. For when they fail you, you should learn to trust more fully in him who gives all things.

You have become acquainted with the God who shows mercy to sinners, who in mercy gave his Son to die for your salvation. So you know what you need to know about God. Let this knowledge, that you have, be known to those around you. For to know God is to know mercy.

EDIT: I first preached this sermon on June 17, 2001, the First Sunday After Trinity during my first full year as a pastor. I will be preaching on the same text tonight at my local church's midweek parlor service.

Discomposed

I've been working on a set of variations on the hymn tune WUNDERBARER KOENIG, known to most of us as the tune to such hymns as "God Himself is present," etc. I'm very pleased with how they're going. Please assist me with your prayers that it may be finished soon and in God-pleasing quality.

I'm anxious about it because, after composing the first variation, I thought: "Wow, this really sounds nice!" Then I played it for someone and his remark was, "If I was the type of person who enjoyed lots of dissonance, I would probably like it." Ouch!!!

Now I'm wondering if there is something wrong with my ears, because I STILL think it sounds beautiful. Variation 2 is even more dissonant than the first, but also in my opinion more beautiful. Perhaps I'm just partial; or, maybe, I have some kind of wacko all-musical form of synesthesia that turns ordinary ugliness into a perception of beauty. I would like to hope that it's actually good music!

Nuclear Soup

The Bachelor Gourmet strikes again! Yesterday I decided to whip up a batch of pea soup, flavored with some venison sausage that had been handed down to me from some friends of my parents. I had been thawing the sausage in my refrigerator for a couple of days, and I had several hours of leisure-time to spend cooking. So I gave the peas a quick soak, then chucked in the meat and about a quart of water and a quart of chicken broth, and then committed my fatal blunder. I added all my seasonings at the beginning of the cooking process.

In the past, I had been prudent enough to wait until the soup was almost done before adding seasonings to it. I was starting to think that this scruple was based more on superstition than on any real reason. Something about not wanting to retard the softening of the pea skins, or something about not allowing the virtue of my herbs and spices go up in steam - some absurd notion like that. What I should have worried about, I now realize, is the danger of judging how much pepper, thyme, and garlic powder to add based on the volume of liquid in the pot before it has a chance to boil down.

All this is to say, I seriously misjudged. I put in far more spice than I would have (or should have) had I measured it in proportion to the final outcome. And for your information, the power of crushed red pepper is not diminished by simmering for five hours. The acids and essential oils that give the spices their spiciness did not evaporate along with the greater quantity of the water. Rather, they assumed greater power as the liquid base around them became more concentrated. Even the flavor of the chicken broth, by itself, became more pronounced.

So, what was the final result? Nuclear soup! Before I went to work, I took the pot off the stove and, having let it cool down a bit, popped it in the fridge. When I got home, I transferred most of it into a sealable container, and nuked up the remaining bowlful in the microwave. Let's just say the taste won't be soon forgotten. I break out in a sweat just thinking about it. It really is better, I find, to err on the side of under-seasoning a soup. For then there is something you can do about it!

The Taking of Pelham 123

Friday afternoon, I squeezed in a matinee before going to work. It was The Taking of Pelham 123, a film about a plot to hold the passengers on a New York City subway train for ransom. The movie featured Denzel Washington as a disgraced transit executive who, in a twist of fate, ends up negotiating with the head hostage-taker played by John Travolta. Also appearing are John Turturro, Luis Guzmán, and James Gandolfini as the mayor.

Directed by Tony Scott, it's a remake of a 1974 movie with a cast of comic actors and a 1998 telefilm with a cast of serious TV hams. I missed those earlier versions, but they might be interesting to compare to this film. It combines the stock gestures of an action thriller with a goodly helping of humor, a bit of claustrophobia, a puzzle with a surprise solution, and a sincere effort to bring depth to its characters.

No one is cast against type here. But I think there's a lot to be said about typecasting. When there are no big surprises in the pairing of actors and roles, the audience can instantly understand who characters are without enduring dozens of lines of tedious, expository dialogue. You can plunge right into the story without preliminaries. So, to make a virtue of this, Travolta plays his usual ice-cold killer with an explosive temper -- the better to surprise us with his dying words. Denzel gets to play a guy who doesn't find out until the last scene whether he can pull the trigger -- the better to surprise us by not being squeaky-clean. Turturro plays an expert, the better to surprise us by being mentally stable. Gandolfini plays an ego in a suit, the better to surprise us by being insightful and decent. Guzmán plays a sidekick whose sticky end isn't much of a surprise, but oh well.

No one wins big awards for playing the type of character they usually play. (Denzel, who keeps winning for playing villains, is a case in point.) But in the meantime, their skills and the audience's expectations combine to make a complex story move swiftly and smoothly.

Four More Book Reviews

If a Tree Falls at Lunch Period
by Gennifer Choldenko
Recommended Ages: 10+

The author of the Newbery Honor Book Al Capone Does My Shirts is back with another touching, funny, thought-provoking book about family, school, and social issues. This time the narration is split between two characters' points of view: a rich white girl named Kirsten, and a poor black boy named Walk who has a scholarship to attend her school. By the end of the book they find out they have a lot more in common than you might expect.

Kirsten is insecure and unhappy. Her parents are fighting all the time. She is losing her best friend to a clique of mean, popular girls. And since unhappiness makes her hungry, she's been gaining weight. Every day at school seems to expose her to a fresh humiliation. Oddly enough, the few people whose company makes her happy are the misfits, the scholarship students like Walk and his best friend Matteo.

You'll cheer Kirsten along as she concocts a plan to protect Matteo from the evil of a girl named Brianna Hanna-Hines -- you know the type, don't you? It's interesting that the cutest girl in seventh grade is such a villain. It's also interesting how deeply real the members of Kirsten's family are, flaws and all, from her embarrassingly funny sister to her almost awful mother. For a healthy, bright, privileged girl, Kirsten has a lot of challenges to work through.

But Walk has even more. Brilliantly gifted, hard-working, and a natural-born leader, he attracts people to himself without even trying. Meanwhile, on the inside, he is constantly fighting a crusade for civil rights. His charming personality covers a hot streak of anger about all the ways he is treated differently because of his race. His single mom worries about him, worries about his secretive cousin and all the kids he hangs out with, and worries most of all about keeping the secret that is about to break open and change his life.

Readers young and old will laugh, wince, and warm to Kirsten's first-person and Walk's third-person narrative. Set in a world of high-priced private schools that, for most of us, is as remote as "the Rock" in Al Capone Does My Shirts, this book opens our eyes and opens our hearts to a pair of lovable kids and their memorable, but maybe not-so-unique, problems.

Genius Squad
by Catherine Jinks
Recommended Ages: 14+

In the sequel to Evil Genius, fifteen-year-old computer whiz Cadel Piggott tries to put the Axis Institude of World Domination behind him. But it's hard. Since his father, criminal mastermind Prosper English, refuses to acknowledge their relationship, there is no record of where Cadel comes from. Australia doesn't want him. The USA won't take him. Even if Prosper claims him, that would only mean being deported to a miserable Scottish sheep farm and the custody of his only surviving relative.

Meanwhile, Cadel lives in a limbo known as the Australian foster-care system. Lately, this means dealing with a foster brother whose nickname, Mace, is as violent as his personality. Even Saul, the Canadian-born policeman in charge of Cadel's witness-protection detail, and Fiona, his social worker, are hard put to protect him. Cadel and best friend Sonja, whose severe cerebral palsy means she needs special care, just want to find a place where they can be safe together.

When such a place suddenly turns up, Cadel should be suspicious. But it's not hard to be disarmed when he knows Clearview House really is too good to be true. On the surface, it seems to be a halfway house for troubled teens like himself, with facilities for a disabled kid like Sonja. Below the surface -- literally -- is a secret "War Room" full of computers (another plus for Cadel). The staff and residents are a "Genius Squad" of cyber-spies, secretly digging for evidence against a sinister corporation called GenoME, part of the same criminal empire that ran the Axis Institute. Unable to resist the offer of a safe place to live with Sonja, unlimited time on a state-of-the-art computer, and a chance to fight evil, Cadel accepts Clearview House's offer... even though it means lying to the people who are trying to protect him.

Keeping Saul and Fiona in the dark about Genius Squad proves increasingly tricky. It's all Cadel can do to hide the War Room and the activities of his housemates, even at the best of times. But when Mace comes after him, the deception becomes harder to keep up. Harder still when Cadel's old school-friend Gazo Kovacs turns up and needs to be persuaded to cooperate with the police. Harder still when another ex-Axis student attempts to assassinate Prosper English in prison. Hardest of all when Cadel's snooping uncovers a GenoME plan to finish Prosper off.

Evil as his father is, Cadel doesn't want him killed. But this concern becomes a different kind of fear when Prosper escapes from prison and tracks down Cadel with terrifying ease. The remainder of the book is thus a duel of wits between a seasoned criminal genius and his one-time protegé who is trying to go straight. On his side Prosper has a network of henchmen, including a master of disguise and more than a fair share of traitors; plus he has a hostage, a diabolical plan, and a gun. Cadel only has wits, desperation, and one other weapon bad guys never seem to understand: a heart full of love.

This could be a liability when he is in the power of a crafty crook who wants to form Cadel in his image, and when the people Cadel loves the most are at risk. But it could also be the best hope for a boy who has been raised, from an early age, to look for spectacular ways to hurt people. Maybe he can fight back against the man who did this to him without sinking to his level. Maybe he can get everyone out of this alive. And maybe he can even find love and happiness that are not twisted by wicked plans. Only one thing is certain. If the excitement and emotional turmoil of this adventure don't wear you out, you'll be eager to read the third book in this trilogy, The Genius Wars, available in Australia in November 2009 and in the US in 2010.

King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table
by Roger Lancelyn Green
Recommended Ages: 10+

The lore of King Arthur and his knights has generated a lot of great literature since the Middle Ages: literature in Middle English, Latin, French, Welsh, and even German. Sir Thomas Malory's classic Morte d'Arthur stands at the crossroads between all this original song and legend and the modern poetry and prose inspired by it. Malory selected and organized many of the earlier scraps, stitching them together in a single work. Since then, many writers have tried to improve on this work, either by bringing in threads Malory had left out, or by smoothing out conflicting details, or by weaving separate stories into a more cohesive whole; or they have simply done homage to it in their own creative style.

The result is such a vast, rich body of Arthurian literature that one could make a lifelong study of it. I've been tempted to do this myself, after reading books about Merlin and Arthur from such authors as T. H. White, Mary Stewart, T. A. Barron, and Gerald Morris. But the problem is: where should one begin? Stewart's romances veer in a disctinctly adult direction. Though Barron and Morris both write for younger readers, theirs too are creative novels that merely take the folklore as their starting point. And while White's retelling is quite faithful, only the first part of it (The Sword in the Stone) is aimed at the Disney set. If I were a parent or teacher who wanted to introduce the legends of Camelot to an interested child, where should I turn? If I were a kid thinking about starting that lifelong study of Arthur, where should I begin?

I should begin with Roger Lancelyn Green's bestseller of 1953, King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table. Why? Because it's told in clean, crisp, modern prose that, at the same time, piques the senses with moments of beautiful description and the slightly archaic phrasings that make you think, "This is the real thing!" Because it faithfully follows not only Malory but many other ancient sources, as the Author's Note briefly and frankly explains. And because no one is better at pulling together a huge and complex body of literature into a single, sensible story than the author of Tales of the Greek Heroes and The Tale of Troy.

Lancelyn Green must have done a colossal amount of research in writing this book. He must have had either a mastery of many languages or access to excellent translations and summaries. He must have applied a truly massive intellect to selecting, arranging, and adapting all these stories so that we could read them as one story. But in his retelling, he never waves his labors, his linguistic skill, or his super-smarts in our face. He seems rather to step out of the way, and to let the story itself confront us with its own beauty and power.

I don't know how he managed all this, but I know why. Roger Lancelyn Green was a close friend of C. S. Lewis -- so close, indeed, that without his support the Chronicles of Narnia might never have been published. When he saw what Lewis and Tolkien were doing to raise up children's literature, he decided to do the same with the tales of Arthur and his court. Decades of bestseller status bear witness that his attempt succeeded. And though by no means the last word on Arthur, it remains a choice contender for the first word in your lifelong enjoyment of one great story.

The Adventures of Robin Hood
by Roger Lancelyn Green
Recommended Ages: 10+

In his customary Author's Note "as to the sources from which his material is derived," Roger Lancelyn Green complains that there isn't much literature about Robin Hood. This claim might shock you. But, apart from oral tradition, the tales of Robin Hood go back only to a 16th-century verse romance, two plays by a lesser contemporary of Shakespeare, and an uneven collection of ballads published in the 18th century, plus a few other fragments and excerpts. To fill out his story, Lancelyn Green had to borrow from several novels and plays written between 1819 and 1926. "I have used all my sources mainly for the outline of the tales," the author says, adding that he tried to keep the dialogue as close to the old ballads as possible.

So the author of such books as Tales of the Greek Heroes and King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table was forced to take more than his usual dose of creative license as he united the whole, scattered tradition of Robin Hood into one well-structured story. Nevertheless, I'm sure you'll recognize the enduring stories gathered in this book. Not only fans of Scott and Tennyson, but virtually all freedom-loving people, particularly in the English-speaking world, know of the merry band of outlaws who hid in Sherwood Forest, except when called upon to compete in archery tournaments, do feats of derring-do, steal from the rich, give to the poor, etc.

Lancelyn Green follows the general consensus of Robin Hood folklore in placing him in the time of King Richard I, the Lion Heart, who went away on a crusade and landed in prison on his way home. With the king thus indisposed, his wicked brother Prince John seized power and instituted a corrupt reign of terror, aided by such cronies as the Sheriff of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisborne, and the Bishop of Peterborough. In these days the old Saxon lords were resisting their new Norman overlords. Prince John raised funds for himself by making outlaws of the wealthier Saxons and seizing their lands; or by selling political and churchly offices to his crooked friends, who would then repay him by imposing harsh taxes on the people.

Those who had been made outlaws, even on unjust grounds, lost all legal rights, including the services of the church. So it happened to Robert Fitzooth, the Earl of Huntingdon, who as a Saxon and a supporter of the rightful King Richard, fell into disfavor with Prince John. Betrayed by his servant Worman, Robert is outlawed in the middle of his wedding to Maid Marian. With his faithful followers he flees into the forest of Sherwood and becomes a gentleman robber named Robin Hood.

In the adventures that follow, Robin enlarges his merry band by saving many likely lads from being persecuted by the Prince, the Sheriff, and their ilk. He sets out to break all the unjust laws in order to preserve the just ones, to fight the vile usurper while hoping that good King Richard will pardon him when he comes home. He also converts several fierce opponents into his best friends by fighting them to a draw in single combat. One weakness of these tales is this seeming repetition, as Robin meets not one, not two or three, but four or five of his merriest men in a blur of quarterstaves. Nevertheless, no reader can fail to be entertained by the witty remarks and saucy rejoinders that accompany these duels, nor by the close scrapes and narrow escapes Robin and his fellows go through. In masculine daring and athletic resourcefulness, their adventures have few equals; in wit and humor, in dashing honor, in affection and loyalty and joy of living, these heroes have no equal at all.

One must be prepared when one lives a rough life in the forest, such as boy scouts only dream of. Be prepared to accept a lot of running about in disguise, with all manner of improbable results. Be prepared for suspense and horror -- including an eerie encounter with a witch. Be prepared for sometimes gruesome violence. Be prepared for a moment of senseless rage in which Robin Hood cold-bloodedly kills fifteen men. And be prepared for an ending full of tender pathos, an ending which may leave you sighing and wiping your cheeks. Old-fashioned as the Robin Hood legends are, they still appeal directly to the hearts and values of today's reader. And no one has done a better job arranging them for young readers to enjoy than Roger Lancelyn Green.

Symphony Edits

I've been going back over my "Symphony" thread and adding videos from YouTube, wherever possible. It's a pity I didn't think of this earlier!

It's nice that there are videos of live performances, or even studio performances, of many complete symphonies - such as the Beethoven cycle conducted by Karajan. On the other hand, the pickings for some symphonies are pathetically slim. I am hard put to find a video of even a complete movement from some of them. And where I can find one, it is sometimes an amateurish thing, such as a live recording where you can hear the overheads light buzzing in the background. In a few instances it looks like someone shot a video of something playing on their TV - complete with the ticking of a clock in the background! In other instances, the "video" consists of a photo or two of the conductor and/or the composer. Boring!!!

So, YouTube is not yet ready to replace your best options for reading a good symphony -- namely: hearing it performed live or listening to a complete audio recording of it.

Reading Beethoven's 2nd

Before our master class on "Reading a Symphony Like a Good Book" moves on to Assignment 4, let me make up for the long delay in finishing Assignment 3. How? With a bonus, extra-credit look at Beethoven's Second Symphony!

Ludwig van Beethoven completed his Symphony No. 2 in D major in 1802, two years after his First Symphony and two years before the Third ("Eroica"). The Second is traditionally regarded as one of the last pieces in Beethoven's "early period," before he developed his own distinctive style. The First Symphony, for example, sounds somewhat like a late symphony of Haydn -- though it is stamped with Beethoven's unique, bluff charisma. The Third, on the other hand, supposedly inaugurates the Romantic symphony, in contrast to the Classic period represented by Haydn.

But it would be misleading to say that, with Eroica, the mature, romantic Beethoven suddenly explodes into being. Rather, the Second Symphony is a kind of "missing link," an intermediate stage in the evolutionary process. Drawn in larger proportions, it clocks in at 35 minutes: the length of the Fifth Symphony. It is also packed with colossal energy, underscored by the use of a muscular scherzo in the third movement rather than the fashionable minuet. In its harmonies and dramatic gestures, it heralds the earthshaking advent of Eroica. And lest we be misled by the absurd rumor that only Beethoven's odd-numbered symphonies, from No. 3 on, are worth listening to, the Symphony in D is one of the maestro's most lively, memorable, and enjoyable works. I became acquainted with it at an early age, and now whenever I hear it I feel the pleasure of catching up with an old friend.

The long first movement opens with a "very slow" (Adagio molto) introductory passage, lasting some 3 minutes. At first loud, unison "Ta-das" alternate with lyrical phrases. A more playful, inventive passage follows, allowing both the harmony and the rhythm to go through various evolutions, before a grand statement similar to the first theme of the Ninth Symphony. From this point on, the material in the slow intro directly foreshadows ideas in the "fast, spirited" (Allegro con brio) movement to come.

After a downward rush, we hear the first real theme of the symphony, outlining the tonic (D major) triad. The mirthful mood turns dramatic during the transition to the almost comical A-major second theme, in which again triadic outlining figures largely. The remainder of the exposition is a long and emphatic codetta in which Beethoven fashions a sense of space and grandeur around his seemingly trifling themes. After all this is repeated, the development veers into a minor key and a rigorous-sounding fugato. After a brief break to anatomize the second theme, it returns to these minor-key rigors all the way to the recap. This time, the transition to the second theme sounds less threatening, more affirming. The second theme, of course, comes back in D instead of A (as is right and proper in a sonata's recapitulation). The codetta leads effortlessly into a coda in which we hear echoes of the first theme before a glorious, climactic finish.

The Larghetto second movement, in A major, is brim-full of Beethoven's most gorgeous melodies. Again, in its larger-than-usual proportions, it belies its position among Beethoven's "early works." Rich in contrasting ideas, it covers a range of expression from soulful lyricism to rustic exuberance. These ideas unfold in a sequence that, over the course of many hearings, has come to sound inevitable to me; I have been known to hum along from one end of the piece to the other.

In the Scherzo, Beethoven leaves behind the Minuet's refined manners and adopts the jaunty, jumpy groove of the Austrian peasantry, with lots of heavy stomping, high-kicking, and echo effects. The middle section, analagous to the classical symphony's Trio, features a quartet of wind instruments (oboes and bassoons), assisted by the strings and horns in a gentle dance punctuated by loud chords.

The "very fast" (Allegro molto) finale begins with a comical sound, like the honking of a clown's nose, and a theme like the audience laughing. Thereafter, noble themes alternate and/or combine with rude noises and string passagework. The development shows us a minor-key side of these ideas, culminating in an impressive passage in unison (give or take nose honks). The brighter side returns for the recap. This, in turn, leads to a coda comprising nearly one-third of this quick movement, and an explosion of mirth worthy of a comic-opera finale.

EDIT: I've just been to YouTube, where I found this video, below, of Herbert von Karajan conducting Beethoven's 2nd. The comments on the page where I found it are enlightening. Apparently I am not alone in spotting the similarity between the descending figure in the slow intro and the main theme of the 9th Symphony. Others have given it more meaning than I initially did. It's worth a second thought. Perhaps the descending D minor triad does represent fate in an arc spanning most of Beethoven's career; perhaps the first movement's final decision in favor of D major represents the triumph of hope over despair; and perhaps the development of this motif indicates that, in 1802, Beethoven was much more optimistic in the face of his cruel fate (deafness) than he would be in 1824.I am finally compelled to observe that I don't like Karajan's conducting much. His results are admirable in their precision and consistency. But his methods are very cold, his mien woodenly serious if not severe. It does not look as if he is enjoying himself - or, if he is, it is on a strictly rational level. And as he keeps his eyes closed throughout the performance, one gathers that he is concentrating on something unreachable by the rest of us; there is no sense at all of an experience shared with the players. Oh, well. If I had listened to it with my eyes closed, I wouldn't be complaining...except that I thought the Scherzo sounded too polite.