Monday, July 15, 2013

Truly a Strange Dream

Sometimes work is faith.
Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that I've been re-evaluating my spirituality in light of my recent revival of San Benedict e San Francesco over on NationStates. If you're spending your free time crafting a nation that's essentially a Roman Catholic theocracy, you're going to be examining the heck out of your catechism (or other source of choice) trying to figure out what laws you reasonably can and cannot have.

In particular I've been applying my own theology to the concept of a Just War doctrine and working it back from there, after realizing that a 6000 person army with no naval or air support isn't going to do much more than prevent the occasional riot.

Maybe that's why the concept of faith as a personal question has been on my mind again, and maybe that's why I had a strange dream last night.

There are basically only three books on my shelf of any relevance - a bible (two, actually - NSV and Jerusalem); a copy of the Catechism, First Image Books Edition (April 1995); and the Christian Prayer (a one-volume LotH set). I think I have a few missals floating around but I'm sure they're all out-dated.

Somehow, I dreamed that all three of those books were combined into one volume, which I was keeping in a black case not unlike that used for my DayTimer (which I also rarely use), that had a front pocket for a rosary and some other things (I think I had a text of the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy, which was once a favourite). What was truly bizarre about it was that it wasn't the Rosary I currently "use" (a very nice, though plastic, K of C rosary) which recently broke - it was the old olive-wood rosary I had before it, which is now well-loved by a friend of mine.

What was also truly bizarre about it was that, of all the formulaic prayers in my lexicon, the rosary is probably my least favourite. Nothing feels more forced and less organic - and this is coming from a guy who liked the DM Chaplet.

What is most bizarre however: I spent the better part of fifteen minutes this morning being genuinely annoyed at not being able to find this thing, in spite of remembering clearly where I had set it down in the dream, until I came to and realized I never owned such a thing.

I could build one, though. Having said that, my last attempt at a hand-bound bible fell apart when the printing of a textblock became too expensive.

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