Calvin Synod Herald, 1998 (98. évfolyam, 1-6. szám)

1998-03-01 / 2. szám

CALVIN SYNOD HERALD- 5 -AMERIKAI MAGYAR REFORMÁTUSOK LAPJA

ADY

Merriam Webster’s Enclyclopedia of Literature

In the Footsteps of the Geneva Reformation

It happened in 32 A.D., on Maundy Thursday {the first in the month of April) - a Passover feast was prepared in the home of Mark, the evangelist’s parents. There was no Passover lamb, Jesus was already ex-communicated by the Sanhedrin. The Great Council of his own people (Mt. 26:26-28; Mark 14:22- 24; Luke 22:19-20; 1 Cor. 11:23-26.)

Mr. Leamon, U. Church Herald, March 1,1965, p. 18, writes: “If the season of Lent is a time for renewing identification with Christ Jesus of Nazareth,” and then he continues with an able, sharp article, pointing out the dangers involved in the identification... Jesus of Nazareth simply said: “do this in remembrance of me.” Yes, when we break the bread and take the cup, we are relieved by the Reformation teaching, sober and realistic, that the sacrifice on the Cross was once and for all. It was so dynamic, by the sufficient grace of God so penetrating and powerful, that it blazed the way of the Second Exodus, liberation from the power of sin. Jesus, the Christ, as Goél, for all men, who will remember and claim by faith, trust his sacrifice and liberation, paid all our debts incurred by generations of men, guilt-ridden parents and ancestors, if payment was necessary, it was paid. But much more by the Valiant Son of God, our Great Pioneer, we were brought to the “city of Refuge” - we were rescued and “in Christ” (the Pauline expression) we reached a magnetic field of redemptive grace, where we are healed, saved, liberated “by grace”, and we may now choose and go back into “life” with faith-trust, and the only condition is “repentance and faith-amendment”.

Ady, Endre (b. Nov. 22, 1877, Ermindszent, Hungary, Austria-Hungary d. Jan. 27, 1919, Budapest, Hungary.) One of the greatest Hungarian lyric poets. Particularly notable are his love poems, which are striking in their originality and their mystical approach to physical love.

Ady studied law for a time, but from 1900 until his death, he worked as a journalist. In 1903 he published his first significant volume of poetry, Még egyszer. With his next book, Új versek (1906; “New Poems”), he burst into Hungarian literary life. His poems were revolutionary in form, language and content; his unconventional, though splendid language shocked the public. After a stay as a journalist in Paris, Ady had come to see Hungary as nar-On a black and lofty mountain peak in honor of unfounded sorrow my temple would be built.

There would my people foregather.

Before and altar

and a red draped bier

in the assembly of the sorrowing

I would stand, the temple founder.

Our lamentation - organ pipes.

Our incense - dreams.

Our prayer - “forever blessed be he

who knows not why he thirsts, who knows not why he hurts, and who without a crown is still a king. ”

This would be the sorrowful ecclesia of unfounded sorrow.

row and materialistic, and in the early poems he expressed the scorn and hostility that he felt toward his country. Ady became the target of onslaughts that soon developed into a political struggle in which he was supported by left-wing radicals, who hailed him as a prophet, and abused by right-wing nationalists.

In his later work, Ady was less insulting toward his fellow citizens. His understanding of the country, of its social and political ills, and of the sufferings that had been inflicted by World War I, had inspired him to find new means of expressing pain and anger. By the time he died of alcoholism, he had published 10 volumes of poetry in 12 years, as well as short stories and countless articles.

With dripping blood of turtle doves I would baptize my babes,

and gently I would wed and bury people as though I walked among the beds of the sleeping sick.

A thousand shades would rustle of those who had no temple and who for long are dead, because my people of the tortured faith and of the unfounded sorrow come from long, hah, long ago.

“He, missa est."

Each day more fairly I would say it, and we would weep with more and more bitterness, bitterness.

□ÜÜ

“The skill of the Divine Potter has infinite patience and skill in improvisation. No sooner has one form gone awry than His fingers are pressing it into the form of another.

There is never a moment of the day when the Potter is not doing something with it.

God is never standing back and watching us.

His fingers are on us at all times. ”

Austin Farrer

ENDRE ADY:

A Temple Founder's Dream