Nostalgia is a wistful, bittersweet emotion. It can arise any time you
recall moments that helped define the person you’ve become….
Although nostalgia blends happiness with sadness, it typically brings
up positive feelings…. (Renew, Fall/Winter 2023, p. 22)
 
…(It) also has mental health benefits…. Thinking about key moments from your past might help you feel better about yourself, your relationships and the trajectory that your life has taken. (Renew, p. 20)
 
So, Renew Magazine (only available to members of a United Health Advantage plan) tells us that nostalgia increases “self-esteem, optimism, social connectedness, self-continuity, and meaning in life.” Well, I don’t doubt that nostalgia is psychologically beneficial; but lately, I’ve experienced its “sadness” downside. I’ve been trying to re-connect with long-lost friends and mentors. I’ve had one notable success, finding my old Classics professor, Karl Galinsky, on Facebook.     However, when I looked for Dr. John G. Bordie, who supervised my Master’s Report, I discovered that he had died several years ago. When I looked for my college roommate and friend, Jack Burns, I was shocked to find that he too had died recently.
         
There are many nostalgic moments that I can recall with Jack. However, perhaps the most poignant was when we stayed up all of a chilly night and—using my 6-inch reflector telescope—observed Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury. As regards Dr. Bordie, I can’t forget his revelation that I had made a presentation in a linguistics class unconsciously speaking English with a Spanish accent.  
         
A recent event that evokes nostalgia is the welcoming party that Old Chatham members gave me when I joined the Meeting. Really, I feel unalloyed joy when I look at pictures of my wife and myself together with Bill and Bev Thompson, Don and Merry Lathrop, Farid Gruber and Rebecca McBride, together with many others, eating lunch on the outside porch of the Meeting House during the Covid Pandemic. The tinge of sadness that comes with the memory is the realization that the Meeting is not always so completely united in love as on that day.
         
So, if you want to dig out old school yearbooks or old photo albums, go ahead. If you feel nostalgic about the past, any tinge of sadness will surely give way to joy.
         
~ Richard Russell

… through my backwardness I sat under the burden of the word so long that the proper time slipped in which should I have stood up which was a hurt to both myself and the meeting and I believe made hard work for my companion, for where there is not a keeping our ranks each in our own line of duty, it flings the whole out of joint and the meeting seldom if ever recovers when thus the gospel property is invaded.
       
I have oft compared the ministry to a fountain or spring of water and ministers to pipes through which the water is conveyed to diverse parts of the city, some greater some lesser, according to the distance the stream is to be conveyed ... and very frequently we see one pipe so fixed as to be in some sort dependent on another and if any impediment happens to either it frustrates the grand design of conveyance, and no pipe so small or minute but there is some service or part to act and it’s not acting that part may possibly so disconcert the whole as to incommode a great part if not the whole of the city. 
    
The excerpt above is from the diary of Elizabeth Hudson, a Friend who traveled extensively in colonial America. She’s quoted in Brian Drayton’s Midweek Meditations.

https://library.haverford.edu/finding-aids/files/MC975-01-047.pdf
 
~ submitted by Richard Russell
 

During the decades of the 50’s and 60’s Hollywood cranked out biblical epic after biblical epic, most of them being mediocre or bad. Two films of this type that I’ve seen and believe to have artistic merit are Ben-Hur and Barabbas although I certainly don’t place either one on my “Best 10” list. Both rely heavily on violent, action scenes. In Ben-Hur there’s the naval battle and a chariot race. In Barabbas there’s the earthquake that destroys a sulfur mine, gladiatorial combats, and the Great Fire of Rome.

Well, there’s nothing particularly wrong with action scenes; but if you like character development and insight into the human psyche, an action film will seem shallow and unrewarding. I’ve already mentioned that Barabbas has plenty of action, but it also has psychological merit in its examination of Barabbas’ vacillation between faith and doubt. Moreover, in the gladiator Torvald we have a convincing portrait of a psychopath. Sometimes Barabbas is criticized for its pacing, for scenes that drag on too long. I think such critics are focused on the excitement of the action scenes and just not interested in the psychological and philosophical interludes that elevate Barabbas above the typical biblical epic.   

Oh, I’ve forgotten to tell the reader that Barabbas is about the thief and revolutionary of the same name—the one who was released instead of Jesus by Pontius Pilate. The Gospels don’t give us any details of Barabbas’ subsequent life; but the film—based on Pär Lagerkvist’s 1951 novel—follows Barabbas as he returns to a life of crime, is sentenced to the mines, becomes a gladiator, and is crucified as one of the Christians blamed for the Great Fire of Rome in 64 C.E. 
Of course, the focus of the movie is Barabbas’ divided soul as he sometimes accepts, sometimes rejects “The Way” of the Christians. Peter, the Apostle, tells Barabbas, “There has been a wrestling in your spirit, back and forth in your life, which in itself is knowledge of God. By the conflict you have known Him.” I find Peter’s words reassuring as I myself have vacillated between religious faith and skeptical doubt. Perhaps other Friends in Old Chatham Meeting have experienced a similar tension.

Well, do I recommend that the reader see Barabbas? If violence troubles you, perhaps “no.” If you rather like grand spectacles but also enjoy character development, perhaps “yes.”

~ Richard Russell 

Do you think that, of your own free will, you chose to become a Quaker? If so, you’re wrong. Your becoming a Friend was pre-determined long before you even knew that Quakers existed. At least, that’s the argument of Robert Sapolsky, distinguished professor of neurological studies at Stanford University. Here’s a quote from Chapter One of Sapolsky’s latest book, Determined:
         
Once you work with the notion that every aspect of behavior has deterministic, prior causes, you observe a behavior and can answer why it occurred; as just noted, because of the action of neurons in this or that part of your brain in the preceding second. And in the seconds to minutes before, those neurons were activated by a thought, a memory, an emotion, or sensory stimuli. And in the hours to days before that behavior occurred, the hormones in your circulation shaped those thoughts, memories, and emotions and altered how sensitive your brain was to particular environmental stimuli. And in the preceding months to years, experience and environment changed how those neurons function, causing some to sprout new connections and become more excitable, and causing the opposite in others.
         
~ submitted by Richard Russell

According to the gospels, Jesus claimed to be the Messianic Deliverer of Israel. He predicted his own death and resurrection, events which he believed would lead to the establishment of a literal Kingdom of God on earth. He himself would rule that kingdom as the Messiah, the “Son of Man.” Thus, Jesus challenged the authority of Rome by going to Jerusalem, entering the city like King David, and wreaking havoc on the merchants who did business in the Temple. At the request of the priestly elite, he was executed by the Romans, who rightly saw him as a political revolutionary wanting to overthrow their Judaean collaborators and end Roman rule. This is the interpretation of Jesus’ ministry according to many scholars, with whom I agree.
         
Some writers argue that Jesus’ claims and actions were signs of a delusional or psychotic personality, of a man who suffered from megalomania, paranoia, or schizophrenia. They often point out that Jesus was even accused by his family, his followers, and his contemporaries of being insane and possessed by demons. Mark (3:20-21) tells us, “Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind’” (NIV). The family must have been alarmed by Jesus’ challenge to the Jewish ritual purity system, in which they had been reared. No doubt they didn’t comprehend how Jesus’ ethic of love was superior to the system of sacrifice and ritual cleansing maintained by the priestly class. And they were taken aback by the adoring crowds that followed this scion of a humble family.   
         
Well, I certainly don’t agree that Jesus was psychotic. The hall mark of psychosis is a disconnect from reality, particularly social reality. Jesus well understood the reality of Roman oppression—which was why he attracted crowds of poor, downtrodden people. Moreover, his emphasis on love, forgiveness, and compassion was part of a Jewish prophetic tradition that lived on beside the dominant ritualistic religion of his day. And many first century Jews—not just Jesus—believed in a Messiah who would free Judaea from Roman rule. In other words, the messianic idea was a religious-cultural reality that Jesus embraced. As to his supposed megalomania, that quality was actually a profound sense of mission and a loving service to God and the Jewish people.
         
Schizophrenics are characterized by their withdrawal from, and lack of connection to, other people. Certainly, Jesus frequently wanted to get away from the crush of a crowd, but he was extremely sociable. He loved parties and the companionship of women. Although I doubt its historicity, in the Gospel of John Jesus performed his first miracle at a wedding feast.  He became mentor to twelve disciples with whom he had a close, intimate relationship; and he was followed by a larger group of unnamed men and women. After Jesus’ death, his disciples could not forget the warmth of his friendship and his dedication to the greater good. They refused to let his memory die.
         
No, Jesus was not crazy. He was a mature, mentally healthy person. And—I dare say—he was a prophet sent by God.

~ Richard Russell