What is in Kelvin's Head?

Christmas in St Mary’s (with a twist at the end)

17/12/2022

Christmas is a time of joy and celebration, and there is perhaps no better place to experience the magic of the season than at St Mary’s Cathedral in the Scottish Episcopal Church. With its stunning architecture and rich history, this beautiful space offers a truly special and meaningful way to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

One of the highlights of a Christmas service at St Mary’s Cathedral is the music. The cathedral’s choir is known for their beautiful voices and their ability to bring the festive carols to life. The church also features a grand organ, which adds a sense of grandeur and majesty to the service. Whether you’re a fan of traditional carols or more modern hymns, you’re sure to be moved by the beautiful music at St Mary’s Cathedral.

Another highlight of a Christmas service at St Mary’s Cathedral is the sense of history and tradition. The cathedral dates back to the 19th century and is known for its stunning Gothic architecture. The service itself is filled with rich traditions, such as the lighting of the Advent wreath and the reading of the Christmas story from the Bible. These traditions help to create a sense of awe and wonder that is so fitting for the holiday season.

But perhaps the most special aspect of a Christmas service at St Mary’s Cathedral is the sense of community and togetherness. As people from all walks of life come together to celebrate the birth of Jesus, there is a feeling of unity and love that is truly special. Whether you’re a lifelong member of the cathedral or a newcomer to the community, you’ll feel welcome and included in the celebration.

In short, Christmas services at St Mary’s Cathedral in the Scottish Episcopal Church are a truly special and meaningful way to celebrate the holiday season. With their beautiful music, rich traditions, and sense of community, these services offer a chance to experience the magic and wonder of Christmas in a truly special and meaningful way.

If you’ve made it through this blog post this far and you have a slight sense that there’s something odd about it the you’d be correct. The post above, not in italics wasn’t written by me. It was written by a machine – specifically the ChatGPT bot that has recently been released to the world. You tell it what you want it to write and it does it.

This one was generated by the prompt, “Write a blog post about how wonderful Christmas services are at St Mary’s Cathedral in the Scottish Episcopal Church”.

Now, it doesn’t sound quite like me and it isn’t the most exciting writing there is. Perhaps it is even slightly stilted. But it is a fairly convincing attempt at the problem I gave it to do.

This technology is going to make all things new. Academia in particular is going to have to change very quickly in the way it assesses students.

This is disruptive technology. It can be used to do funny things – I could just have easily got it to write the above post in the voice of Donald Trump.

Thus: “Let me tell you, folks, this place is amazing. The music is absolutely incredible, with the choir singing all of your favorite carols in the most beautiful way. And the organ! Wow, what a sound. It’s truly something to behold…”

But this isn’t just entertainment. It is something completely and utterly new. Nothing you ever read again comes with a guarantee that it was written by a human being.

The world is changed. As someone once sent with a telegraph key, “What hath God wrought”?

9 responses to “The Lament Question”

kimberly

12/08/2009

ask it in the singular, and the answer is: because you’re a four.

you’ll have me playing the funeral ikos next.

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kimberly

12/08/2009

the other answer is about possibility being revealed in limits.

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kelvin

12/08/2009

Its not just me though, and not just fours.

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Aaron Orear

12/08/2009

I think because sorrow touches the core of the human condition – we are mortal but can perceive immortality. “He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Eccl. 3:11)

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Erp

12/08/2009

I understand Aristotle talks about catharsis and various philosophers have followed up on that idea.

Perhaps it arouses sadness both from the art itself but also from our own sources festering within and allows us to let go. We feel better for the letting go, the lessening of our own internal sadness, and so perceive the art as beautiful.

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RosemaryHannah

12/08/2009

Kimberly was there before me. However, even I, a nine, can sometimes see the beauty in sad things. For me they do two things (may be more but two are most obvious). The first is the catharsis thing. The second is to make me less lonely. Look, here am I weeping, but all around me people sit in the same sorrow. It is not just my sorrow – I am not alone.

I have long thought there is another answer, one I do not properly understand but I have (I think – and who am I to think it). Deep in God there is a huge well of sorrow. Unless we experience sorrow we cannot understand God. When we sorrow we tap into that well, and become closer to him.

And being a nice cheerful nine, I will now add that I live in hope that having sorrowed with him, we will share also and even more fully in the joy which swallows the sorrow. Delete this last paragraph from your mind on reading, it will only spoil the joy of the sorrow.

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Elizabeth

13/08/2009

Edgar Allan Poe said the most beautiful thing in the world is a beautiful, dead woman. Nice, eh?

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Ritualist Robert

14/08/2009

Surely it’s because the concept of beauty is independent from concepts such as ‘sadness’ and ‘happiness’ – just as a G major chord might be loud or soft, but that volume has no effect on its G major-ness.

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Steve

14/08/2009

I remember Augustine saying (don’t ask me where) that for a picture to be beautiful it requires dark colours as well as bright.

There is also a hint of an answer in this poem by Edwin Muir:

Yet still from Eden springs the root
As clean as on the starting day.
Time takes the foliage and the fruit
And burns the archetypal leaf
To shapes of terror and of grief
Scattered along the winter way.
But famished field and blackened tree
Bear flowers in Eden never known.

Blossoms of grief and charity
Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
What had Eden ever to say
Of hope and faith and pity and love
Until was buried all its day
And memory found its treasure trove?
Strange blessings never in Paradise
Fall from these beclouded skies.

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