Calvin Synod Herald, 1989 (89. évfolyam, 1-2. szám)
1989-09-01 / 2. szám
CALVIN SYNOD HERALD- 6 -REFORMÁTUSOK LAPJA A kősziklán épliilt anyaszentegybáz. The Church Built on the Rock. JÓKAI AND LISZT Jókai and Liszt are immortal two Hungarians, who excelled in works of same quality: one written in words, the other written in music. Jókai is the Liszt of Hungarian Literature, — we might almost say — of Europian Literature. Liszt was the king of all musical improvisatori, Jókai was the king of both in Rhapsodies. Both manifested the rhapsodic character of the magyars: Jókai novelistically, Liszt musically: both always subjective and never objective. Jókai in novels and Liszt in tones are the highest types of the genius of the magyar people. Hungarians are proverbially musical and romantic, known to be as such in all countries of the world. We recognize and immensely enjoy the surpassing talents of these two worldfamous magyars and take extreme pleasure to perpetuate through them our shining Hungarian Culture. Everyone is going through changes Think about the things developed since the end of World War II. Those of us who were around remember how it was before anyone owned a television set, before penicillin, polio vaccine, frozen foods, Xerox machines, the pill and contact lenses. We were around before frisbees, radar, split atoms, and laser beams; before ballpoint pens, pantyhose, dishwashers, clothes dryers, electric blankets, room air conditioners, credit cards and before a man walked on the moon. There were 5 & 10 cent stores where you could buy things for a nickel. You could ride the street car for a nickel, or buy an ice cream cone or a Pepsi. For a nickel you could also make a phone call or buy enough stamps to mail a letter and two postcards. A new Chevy cost $800, gas was 11 cents a gallon, and anything made in Japan was junk. McDonalds hadn’t arrided, fast food was what you ate during Lent, and only Italian Americans had pizza. Rock music was a lullaby, to be gay meant to be happy and you needed a husband and wife to have a child. We didn’t have FM, tape decks, electric typewriters, word processors, or yogurt. (Pension Pointers)-------------------------“JÓKAI”------------------------"The Chronicle of Next Century"— by now — we have undergone. Long row of dolorous "Working Days" in succession came and gone. Our passing days we are numbering like do the "Rich-Poor Mortals" We. “Poor-Rich Mortals", maintain our life with stollen goods at portals. "The Man Who Wears His Heart on Forehead"lived on in slow lingering. Conducting himself like “Rabi Rab"in struggle never ending. "The Man Made of Gold" with firm embrace will hold unto posessions In a sequel of chain-reactions from “Political Fashions". "Mine, Yours and His" became the slogan of our present life’s station; No reflects left from "The Golden Past”of unfortunate Nation. At old “Glimpses of Battles” we still look with long admiration; We cry our eyes out "Under the Calm"at the wind’s cessation. Shall we have yet time enough to tie just “One More Boquet of Flowers'? When from hand to hand goes endlessly the once grand “Nameless Fortress’. “The Aged Man Is Not An Old Man"we keep on still repeating; While “Káinok's Offspring"still suffers, hopes, and tolerates unceasing. Where-to did “Black Diamonds"disappear, vanishing away from sight? Like the Carpatian Mountains did, the phenomenons of pride. Can you see from Heaven above, JÓKAI, our star and sage. “Transylvania’s Golden Era" blown away from us by rage? "The Heartless Man"— with a change of mind-returned to "His Sons" anew, With no “Hungarian Nabob”still on the scene of life so new. “The One Only God" - how well we know — still lives and rules all over And there must be “ Freedom" even if all is “Under Snow-Cover". Master! If you were here among us. sharing our changed life today, Would you repose the tribulations of our acking hearts this day? In gathering our sheaves together would you be our great preceptor. Teacher, maestro and professor for “What We Are Growing Old For’? JÓKAI! on your heart’s violin that melodic silver-string Would sing and spell the golden Future that the coming years will bring! You would prophesy to us with strength the end of “Sorrowful Days"; Disclosing firmly: no "New Landlord" here anymore ever stays. Mothers’ sweet kisses will delegate your grand Name in rotation From children to children of Magyars in every generation... Overflowing delight and glory: to have been born as Magyar! Just for that one reason, JÓKAI; since you yourself were Magyar!!! The tetters in Italic are the exact titles of many of Jókai's novels known the world over. Most of them translated into great many languages. “From the writings of JÓKAI the beauty of our magyar language tintinnabulates, everyone of his novels and every chapter of any-one of them — one by one — is a boquet from the flower-garden of the Hungarian Word. Oh, how I wish that all magyar mothers, scattered all over the world, would recognize these beauteous flowers and would transplant them into their childrens’ hearts. The Magyar Language is the tounge of the Word, God’s Word, therefore to cultivate it is the true-blue ARS HUNGÄR1CA.” László Ravasz A kulcsok — az egyházhatalom jelképe. The keys — The Church’s Authority
