Only When the Innermost Heart of Man is Opened...

Hans Urs von Balthasar on chastity, from the book Elucidations:

Christian sexual ethics is best advised to keep to the quite simple outline of the New Testament. For this is as unchangeable as the nature of divine love which is become flesh in Christ. This is unalterable because a “greater love” than the one shown to men in Christ is not conceivable, not in any phase of our evolving world. So long as the Christian’s heart and mind are spellbound by this humble and totally selfless love, he has in his possession the best possible compass for finding his way in the fog of sexual matters. With the image of this love before him he will not be able to maintain that the ideal of self-giving—of true self-giving, not of throwing oneself in front of people—is unrealistic in our world and impracticable. It demands a very great deal: namely, to subordinate everything to the love which does not seek its own; but it gives a great deal more: namely, the only true happiness. One can use sex, like drugs and alcohol, to maneuver oneself into a state of excited, illusory happiness, but one is merely transporting oneself into momentary states which do not alter one’s nature or one’s heart. The states fade and disappear, and the heart finds itself emptier and more loveless than before. It is only when the innermost heart of man is opened that the sun of love can penetrate into it. “Fili, praebe mihi cor tuum, Son, give me your heart” (Prov 23:26).

Love you Janis

On Saturday night I went to see a local production of "Love, Janis". It was unbelievable (in a good way).

First off, I confess that I've always been a Joplinaphobe, lumping her in with Hendrix and a few of their contemporaries who's psychedelically strident style always made me feel too high with no way to come down.

(And not in a good way.)

I was born a few years to late to get the whole hippy thing. Not to mention that when buzzed I preferred either the humorous (ala Zappa) or the trippy mellow (ala Pink Floyd). I just never understood the screaming, jangling, psychodelic vibe. My nerves couldn't take it.

But I digress.

Given my predilections and prejudices, I never knew that Janis was rich, and soulful, and bluesy. Not sure how I could have not known it, but I didn't. I also didn't know she had a southern dialect. Or that 27 is so desperately young an age at which to die.

Her story in this show, told through real letters to her family, song, and snippets from interviews with the media, portrays a hungry heart. A heart which yearned the way this blog yearns. It presented one talented girl's search to fill that hunger in all the wrong ways. The beauty of her soul shone through and all you wanted to do was save her.

All I wanted to do was save her.

To show her He who loves her. He who is all in all.

I wonder if she is in heaven? If she is, I imagine that she may be one of the specially beloved ones; she was so very, very hungry.

I'm going to buy some of her music. And perhaps add her to my list of souls I request to pray for me.