Celebrating the Winter Solstice!

Hello everyone –

For the third and final installment in my holiday Quotemail series, I’d like to share with you an article that I penned for the ACES James Scholars eight years ago. The Winter Solstice arrived @ 4:44 AM (CST) this morning, heralding the shortest day and longest night of the year, and this article explores how the stargazers and mythmakers of antiquity understood and celebrated this pivotal event on their “Wheel of the Year.”

“Seasonal Reflections” by Rob Chappell, M.A., Assistant to the Honors Dean

Adapted & Condensed from Ultreia III: 3-4 (Autumn/Holiday 2008)

            As 2016 draws to a close, people in the Northern Hemisphere of our planet are preparing to celebrate a wide variety of December holidays. Although there are vast differences in these celebrations, which vary by culture, nation, and religion, their overarching themes are quite similar, and most of them are derived from a common astronomical source. Each year as the Winter Solstice (December 21-22) approaches, the days grow shorter and colder, and the Sun’s circular journey across the daytime sky is far lower than it was at the Summer Solstice in June. To the skywatchers of the ancient world, it appeared as if the Sun – the source of growth, light, and warmth – was dying. Then, shortly after the longest night of the year, something amazing happened! The Sun began to rejuvenate and started to climb higher in the sky each day. Eventually, more light and warmth returned to the world, and springtime would invariably arrive several weeks later.

            This annual event – the metaphorical “death and rejuvenation” of the Sun at the Winter Solstice – was definitely something worth celebrating. Human life could go on because the Sun came back from oblivion! Light overcame darkness; warmth banished the cold; hope replaced despair; and life defeated death. Decorating with candles and evergreens became a widespread custom in many nations as people celebrated the return of the Sun’s light and the promise of Nature’s renewal that it brought to the wintry world. These are the themes that the major December holidays of the Northern Hemisphere share in common.

            In African, Asian, and European mythologies, the annual rejuvenation of the Sun was expressed in many symbolic ways. One of the most famous legends related to the Winter Solstice is the tale of the phoenix bird. According to the most widespread tradition, there was only one phoenix alive in the world at any given time. The bird was adorned with beautiful crimson, golden, and violet plumage, and it built its next of spices in the Far East. Every 500 years, the elderly phoenix would burst into flames and die – but from its ashes would arise a new, young phoenix to live for another five centuries. The newborn phoenix, as soon as it could fly, would carry the bones and ashes of its former self to the Temple of the Sun in Heliopolis, Egypt, where the priests would note in their chronicles that a new “phoenix cycle” had begun. From an astronomical perspective, the death, immolation, and rebirth of the phoenix could have symbolized the annual cycle of the seasons, in which the Sun “dies” of old age at the Winter Solstice, only to rejuvenate and ascend into the heavens once again with the approach of springtime. 

            As the world awaits the beginning of 2017, we would do well to remember these practical yet profound insights from the skywatchers and mythmakers of antiquity. Empires rise and fall; economies wax and wane; and scientific knowledge continues to increase exponentially. Yet the seasons still come and go on time each year; summer and winter, seedtime and harvest return in their predictable order. The Universe is not a haphazard place, but it is governed by natural laws that allow human life to continue from one generation to the next.

            For me, the core message of all the December holidays is best summed up in this poem by one of my favorite authors, George MacDonald (1824-1905):

The Sun is gone down, and the Moon’s in the sky;

But the Sun will come up, and the Moon be laid by.

The flower is asleep, but it is not dead;

When the morning shines, it will lift its head.

When winter comes, it will die – no, no;

It will only hide from the frost and the snow.

Sure is the summer, sure is the Sun;

The night and the winter are shadows that run.

-- George MacDonald: At the Back of the North Wind (1871), Chapter 37

Quotemail will resume its regular publication schedule on Friday, January 6^th, 2017. In the meantime, may the calendar keep bringing Happy Holidays to you! :)

Rob

“Take and read out from the lapis lazuli tablet how Gilgamesh went through every hardship. He walked through darkness and so glimpsed the light.”

-- The Epic of Gilgamesh: Compiled ca. 2000 BCE in Mesopotamia

The Most Famous Reindeer of All

Hello everyone –

Some longtime subscribers may have seen this essay before, while more recent subscribers may not have had the chance to read this nine-year-old reflection of mine about leadership, the Yuletide season, and much more. Whether it’s new or old to you, I hope you enjoy taking a journey with me down Memory Lane with “the most famous reindeer of all.” :)

Overcoming Limitations with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Author’s Note: This essay first appeared as my Presidential column in the Secretariat’s newsletter for December 2007. It has also appeared in previous December issues of the Secretariat’s newsletter, and I have also reprinted it on my blog at http://rhcfortnightlyquotemail.blogspot.com, in a slightly revised and expanded form, because of its ongoing relevance, as the University of Illinois continues to move forward with campuswide initiatives to promote diversity, inclusivity, and leadership studies (hegemontology).

          As far back as I can remember, one of my favorite Yuletide stories has always been the heroic tale of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which is based on a poem of the same name by Robert L. May from 1939. Rudolph, you may recall, was born “different” from “all of the other reindeer.” His nose glowed red, and as he was growing up, his youthful peers never let him forget it. He was excluded from the others’ reindeer games because he wasn’t “normal” like everyone else. We all know, of course, that the story had a happy ending. Because of his uniquely talented “nose so bright,” Rudolph was able to lead Santa Claus’ gift-giving expedition around the world on a foggy midwinter night. Thus, what had made Rudolph “different” and had caused his exclusion when he was growing up allowed him to become a hero to children all over the world.

          All of us are born “different” from each other; there are no two people in this world who are exactly alike. We all have limitations of one kind or another – visible or invisible – that we need to overcome if we are to lead healthy, balanced lives. Overcoming our own limitations is not easy – but nothing worthwhile ever is. Overcoming limitations, though, is only half the story. Like Rudolph, we need to share our talents with others and help them to overcome their own limitations in turn. Reaching out to others who are “different” from “us,” or to people who have been excluded or marginalized for whatever reason, is a core value of every worthwhile philosophy of life, and it is also a key ingredient in all the major spiritual traditions of the world. We need to teach ourselves to look at the people around us with the “eyes of the heart,” looking beyond outward appearances to perceive the magnificence of the human spirit within us all. As one of my younger cousins wrote to me in an email message a few years ago:

“Sight doesn’t define vision. Eyes of the heart will see far beyond any physical force.” :)

          Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was such an appealing character to me during my childhood days because I also had a limitation to overcome – low vision. I had been born with congenital glaucoma in both eyes and had several surgeries before my third birthday, through which my ophthalmologist managed to recover about 5%-10% of normal vision for me. I was the first student with any kind of disability to pass through my elementary, middle, and high schools, and I had somewhat “different” ways of learning than the other children used. I had textbooks in large print and on cassette tapes, I wrote out my assignments in big letters on black-lined notebook paper, and I was one of the few students in my class who wore glasses from kindergarten onward. These things, on occasion, might have caused a momentary misunderstanding with my youthful peers – but by and large, I was very blessed indeed. Unlike Rudolph, I had a circle of loyal friends, understanding teachers, and a very supportive family to encourage me along the way. Sometimes it takes the encouragement and support of others to show us how uniquely gifted we really are and that being “different” is “AOK.” J

          Rudolph’s “limitation” – not having a “normal” nose – actually turned out to be an unexpected advantage when he grew up. In a similar way, we all have talents buried deep down inside us that can help us to shed a ray of sunshine on the people around us and “bloom where we’re planted.” Some of us may have a talent for encouraging others when they’re having a bad day, while others may have gifts to share through artwork, teaching, or writing. Whatever your talent may be, I encourage you to cultivate it and share it with others – whether it be in the workplace, at home, or anywhere else you happen to find yourself on a regular basis.

          In closing, I would like to share with you some words of wisdom from my maternal grandmother’s favorite Yuletide novella – The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum (1902). This classic tale is for “children of all ages,” not only because it tells an enchanting story, but also because it encourages us to share our time, talents, and treasures with others to make this world a better place to live in.

·         “Everything perishes except the world itself and its keepers. But while life lasts, everything on Earth has its use. The wise seek ways to be helpful to the world, for the helpful ones are sure to live again. … Yet every man has his mission, which is to leave the world better, in some way, than he found it” (Book 1, Chapters 6 & 7).

·         “[Santa Claus] brought toys to the children because they were little and helpless, and because he loved them. He knew that the best of children were sometimes naughty, and that the naughty ones were often good. It is the way with children, the world over, and he would not have changed their natures had he possessed the power to do so.  And that is how our Claus became Santa Claus. It is possible for any man, by good deeds, to enshrine himself as a Saint in the hearts of the people” (Book 2, Chapter 9).

·         “It is true that great warriors and mighty kings and clever scholars of that day were often spoken of by the people; but no one of them was so greatly beloved as Santa Claus, because none other was so unselfish as to devote himself to making others happy. For a generous deed lives longer than a great battle or a king’s decree or a scholar’s essay, because it spreads and leaves its mark on all nature and endures through many generations” (Book 2, Chapter 11).

·         “‘In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child,’ says good old Santa Claus; and if he had his way, the children would all be beautiful, for all would be happy” (Book 3, Chapter 3).

          Best wishes to you and your families for a relaxing and enjoyable Yuletide season!

T minus 5 days and counting until the Winter Solstice and the final Quotemail of 2016 – stay tuned! :)

Rob

From the Golden Age to the Space Age

Hello everyone –

To begin my series of hollydaze quotations, I’d like to share some reflections about my favorite Classical myth – “The Ages of Humankind.” Here we go! :)

The Ages of Humankind: A Myth for All Times & Climes

Excerpted from “A Golden Jubilee Interview with the Editor” by Maria Pauls (ACES James Scholar Alumna & Bronze Tableteer, Class of 2014)

Reprinted from Cursus Honorum (Course of Honors), Volume XII, Number 1 (August 2012)

·        Maria: What is your favorite mythological story of all time and why?

·        Rob: The myth of the “Ages of Humankind” is my all-time favorite. This story appears in the Greek, Persian, Hindu, and Abrahamic religions. There are four main ages of human history, the story goes. The first is the Golden Age, where everything is very harmonious and peaceful; then comes the Silver Age, when the human condition is a bit less harmonious and peaceful, but still idyllic. Next is the Bronze Age, wherein people may sometimes be heroic, but conflict and injustice begin to rear their ugly heads. Last of all is the Iron Age, which is the age we live in, full of conflict, disasters, and hardships. In the Greek version of this story, Astraea, the goddess of justice, ruled the world during the Golden Age, but later – because of humankind’s inhumanity to humankind – she departed into the sky to become the constellation Virgo, the celestial Maiden who holds the Scales of Justice (Libra) in her hand. Once this current Iron Age is done, the myth goes on, we will go back to this perfect age, the Golden Age, and Astraea will come back, and everyone will be nice and in harmony. I like this myth best of all because it inspires us to strive for better conditions on Earth, in which human beings can flourish and build a better society based on justice, freedom, and peace for all peoples.

Next up is a Classical Latin poem by the Roman epic poet Virgil (70-19 BCE). In this amazing piece of verse, Virgil predicts a new Golden Age for the human race to follow the birth of a long-awaited child; the poem’s resonances with visionary themes and motifs in the Abrahamic faith traditions (cf. esp. Isaiah 11:6, “a little child shall lead them”) ensured Virgil’s continued popularity throughout the Middle Ages and onward into the present day.

Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue (Composed 37 BCE)

Muses of Sicily, essay we now
A somewhat loftier task! Not all men love
Coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,
Woods worthy of a Consul let them be.
Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of circling centuries begins anew:
Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom
The iron shall cease, the golden race arise,
Befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own
Apollo reigns. And in thy consulate,
This glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,
And the months enter on their mighty march.
Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain
Of our old wickedness, once done away,
Shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.
He shall receive the life of gods, and see
Heroes with gods commingling, and himself
Be seen of them, and with his father's worth
Reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy,
First shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth
Her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray
With foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,
And laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves,
Untended, will the she-goats then bring home
Their udders swollen with milk, while flocks afield
Shall of the monstrous lion have no fear.
Thy very cradle shall pour forth for thee
Caressing flowers. The serpent too shall die,
Die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far
And wide Assyrian spices spring. But soon
As thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,
And of thy father's deeds, and inly learn
What virtue is, the plain by slow degrees
With waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,
From the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,
And stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathless
Yet shall there lurk within of ancient wrong
Some traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships,
Gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth.
Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be,
Her hero-freight a second Argo bear;
New wars too shall arise, and once again
Some great Achilles to some Troy be sent.
Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man,
No more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree bark
Ply traffic on the sea, but every land
Shall all things bear alike: the glebe no more
Shall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook;
The sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer,
Nor wool with varying colors learn to lie;
But in the meadows shall the ram himself,
Now with soft flush of purple, now with tint
Of yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine.
While clothed in natural scarlet graze the lambs.
"Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,"
Sang to their spindles the consenting Fates
By Destiny's unalterable decree.
Assume thy greatness, for the time draws nigh,
Dear child of gods, great progeny of Jove!
See how it totters- the world's orbed might,
Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound,
All, see, enraptured of the coming time!
Ah! might such length of days to me be given,
And breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds,
Nor Thracian Orpheus should out-sing me then,
Nor Linus, though his mother this, and that
His sire should aid- Orpheus Calliope,
And Linus fair Apollo. Nay, though Pan,
With Arcady for judge, my claim contest,
With Arcady for judge great Pan himself
Should own him foiled, and from the field retire.
Begin to greet thy mother with a smile,
O baby-boy! ten months of weariness
For thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin!
For him, on whom his parents have not smiled,
Gods deem not worthy of their board or bed.

Finally, I’d like to take this opportunity to bid farewell to a true American hero and pioneer of the Space Age: Senator John Glenn, who passed away yesterday (12/8) at the venerable age of 95. Here’s a poem from Tennyson to conclude our reflections for this week:

“Crossing the Bar” (1889)

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1807-1892)

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.

Tennyson remarked about this poem: “The Pilot has been on board all the while, but in the dark I have not seen him … [He is] that Divine and Unseen Who is always guiding us.”

Next week: more hollydaze poems and reflections to banish the cold dark nights of December! :)

Rob