{"id":109579,"date":"2025-03-26T15:53:08","date_gmt":"2025-03-26T21:53:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/?p=109579"},"modified":"2025-03-26T18:50:05","modified_gmt":"2025-03-27T00:50:05","slug":"109579","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/2025\/03\/109579.html","title":{"rendered":"“Change and Decay in All Around I See”"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"James<\/a>
Our director, Mark Goodman, on the film set with Joseph Smith and the Eight Witnesses during the production of the 2022 docudrama \u201cUndaunted: Witnesses of the Book of Mormon\u201d \u2014 and, obviously, during the days of COVID-masking, which are unpleasant even to remember. \u00a0(Still photograph by James Jordan)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This little article of mine has just gone up in Meridian Magazine<\/em>: \u00a0\u201cCan You Trust the Reliability of Eyewitnesses?\u201d<\/a>\u00a0 It was inspired by one of my critics, whom I wish to thank for the impetus that he provided.<\/p>\n

I also wish to remind you of the resources that are available at The Witnesses Initiative<\/a>. \u00a0(There is much more there than just the three major films.) \u00a0Please call those resources to the notice of others who might be interested or who might benefit from them. \u00a0And don\u2019t forget that Undaunted<\/em> can be streamed at absolutely no charge. \u00a0There\u2019s no reason at all not to take advantage of such opportunities.<\/p>\n

By the way, too, I found this new entry from Robert F. Smith on the blog of the Interpreter Foundation quite interesting: \u201cComparison of Book of Mormon and Mesoamerican Dates\u201d<\/a><\/p>\n

\"Theodore<\/a>
The Japanese stone garden at Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island, Washington. \u00a0There is no marker indicating that it was the site of Theodore Roethke\u2019s death. \u00a0But it was. \u00a0 (Wikimedia Commons public domain photograph by Joe Mabel)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

For whatever reason, ever since I was old enough to think about the subject at all, I\u2019ve been impressed by the ephemeral nature of things in this world and by the inescapable fact of death. \u00a0When I see beautiful flowers, I immediately think of the transience of their beauty, how soon they will fade. \u00a0When I tour beautiful palaces or mansions or archaeological sites, I instantly think of how briefly their builders enjoyed them and of how long those builders have been gone. \u00a0That is one of the reasons why the message of Easter is so deeply important to me. \u00a0In anticipation of Easter (and provided that I don\u2019t forget to do so!), I will share with you here four poems that that, in my mind, directly or indirectly relate to the problem of mortality and to the hope of Easter. \u00a0The first comes from the American poet Theodore Roethke (1908-1963). \u00a0Oddly, I first encountered it as a reading passage in some sort of SAT or ACT or Advanced Placement test when I was in high school. \u00a0It powerfully affected me and, as soon as I could thereafter, I found it in an anthology of Roethke\u2019s poetry. \u00a0I\u2019ve never forgotten its melancholy beauty. \u00a0And, a few years ago, I stood by the Zen rock garden at the Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island, Washington, that replaced the swimming pool of a friend in which Theodore Roethke drowned at the age of only fifty-five. \u00a0Doing so didn\u2019t exactly weaken my strong sense of the brevity and fragility of human life. \u00a0Anyway, here\u2019s the poem:<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cElegy For Jane\u201d<\/p>\n

\n
\n

(My student, thrown by a horse)<\/p>\n

I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
\nAnd her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile;
\nAnd how, once started into talk, the light syllables leaped for her.
\nAnd she balanced in the delight of her thought,
\nA wren, happy, tail into the wind,
\nHer song trembling the twigs and small branches.
\nThe shade sang with her;
\nThe leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
\nAnd the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
\nEven a father could not find her:
\nScraping her cheek against straw,
\nStirring the clearest water.
\nMy sparrow, you are not here,
\nWaiting like a fern, making a spiney shadow.
\nThe sides of wet stones cannot console me,
\nNor the moss, wound with the last light.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
\nMy maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
\nOver this damp grave I speak the words of my love:
\nI, with no rights in this matter,
\nNeither father nor lover.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/blockquote>\n
\"A<\/a>
A Protestant church in Grafton, Vermont (Wikimedia Commons public domain image)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Much has been written, discussed, lamented, and celebrated in recent years with regard to declining attendance at American religious services and plunging numbers for religious involvement. \u00a0Here are a couple of interesting articles that are relevant to the conversation:<\/p>\n