Wendell Berry in The Hidden Wound. First, about his childhood caretaker and companion, Nick: Within the confines of those acknowledged facts, he was a man rich in pleasures. They were not large pleasures, they cost little or nothing, often they could not be anticipated, and yet they surrounded him; they were possible at almost anyContinue reading “pleasures to which a man had to be acutely and intricately attentive”
[Intro Note: this was delivered as the afternoon plenary talk at the Alcuin Mid-Atlantic Regional Retreat at Veritas (a classical Christian school in Richmond, VA) on March 22, 2019 by Jesse Hake. The assigned topic was “Classical Christian Education for Culturally and Socioeconomically Diverse Settings.” At the end of this post, a handout is includedContinue reading “Seeking the Heart of the Christian Classical Tradition of Education amid Socioeconomic and Cultural Diversity”
Wendell Berry in The Hidden Wound: For whatever reasons, good or bad, I have been unwilling until now to open in myself what I have known all along to be a wound—a historical wound, prepared centuries ago to come alive in me at my birth like a hereditary disease, and to be augmented and deepenedContinue reading “it is the silence with which white men in this country have surrounded the anguish implicit in their racism”
The Springs by Wendell Berry In a country without saints or shrines I knew one who made his pilgrimage to springs, where in his life’s dry years his mind held on. Everlasting, people called them, and gave them names. The water broke into sounds and shinings at the vein mouth, bearing the taste of theContinue reading “I knew one who made his pilgrimage to springs”
That’s the most interesting question in the world. How big is big enough? The Amish pretty much have solved it. Industrialism doesn’t propose a limit. David Kline, my friend, went to a Mennonite meeting. They were asking what community meant. And he said, “When my son and I are plowing in the spring, we restContinue reading “the future is eating us alive”
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. Want more of everything ready-made. Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die. And you will have a window in your head. Not even your future will be a mystery any more. Your mind willContinue reading “more tracks than necessary”
I’m honored to have had this post revised and published at the Front Porch Republic: Building Folklore Wealth. And the editor at FPR chose this wonderful painting to accompany it: “Fairy Tale Kings” by Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis (1909).
From one of Wendell Berry’s Sabbath poems. The world is lost in loss Of patience; the old curse Returns, and is made worse As newly justified.
The hills on our side of the river were green, and on the other side they were blue. They got bluer farther away. Uncle Burley said hills always looked blue when you were far away from them. That was a pretty color for hills; the little houses and barns and ﬁelds looked so neat andContinue reading “let it all turn into talk”
I am not an accredited interpreter of Scripture, but taking thought for the morrow is a wast of time, I believe, because all we can do to prepare rightly for tomorrow is to do the right things today. …The needed policy changes, though addressed to present evils, wait upon the future, and so are presentlyContinue reading “give up saving the world and start to live savingly in it”