![]() |
|
|
|
Hallo again to all.
In his treatise, Spiritual Friendship, twelfth century English abbot and writer Aelred of Rievaulx writes of the fruits of friendship. I do not presume myself to explain a thing of such importance; since nothing more holy is pursued in human experience, nothing more useful is sought, nothing found with more difficulty, nothing more sweet when it is experienced, nothing more fruitful when held. Indeed, it possesses the fruit of the present life which is now and the one that is to come. It cultivates all the virtues with its agreeableness, strikes down vices with its own virtue, tempers adversity, sets in order prosperity; thus it is scarcely possible among men to be happy without a friend. A person would be equal to a beast, who does not have someone to rejoice with him in good times, to sorrow with him in the bad, to whom he can air any troublesome thought his mind conceives, with whom he can share if anything more sublime or remarkable happens. The philia we feel towards friends seems both close to and quite far from the 'bonds of affection' that hold together our Anglican Communion. While not neglecting the agape we hold towards each other 'loving one another as Christ has loved us,' we also feel joy in the achievements of those in Provinces other than our own, and sadness during their times of trouble or strife. We come to their aid not out of a sense of Christian obligation, but rather a desire, or an affection to do so – that same sense of wanting to help our friends. Many are born into the Anglican Communion, but many have joined from outside, choosing not only the tenets of faith, reason, and tradition,* of common worship and a desire to be part of something bigger than the congregation, but also a genuine admiration of each other and a desire to be with each other and part of each other. To put it simply, we like each other. What a novel thought—80 million of us striving to be friends.
This has been a frequently asked question of late, popping from the BBC to Slate. As robots can't feel, is it okay to mistreat them? Upon being asked if it is okay to 'kick a robot', Mr. Know-It-All of the magazine Wired answered thoughtfully: So, what kind of robot kicker are you? Well, the fact that you'd even ask this question—that you're sensitive enough to find robot-kicking ethically dubious—assures me that you could kick a robot without that violence spilling over problematically into other dimensions of your life. But it also tells me that you wouldn't actually want to kick a robot. And neither would I. What I'm saying here is, you're allowed to kick a robot. But don't. We're grateful for our friends through good times and bad, and we are grateful for you, our loyal readers. See you next week, and whatever you do, please don't kick the robot.
|
||
![]() This web site is independent. It is not official in any way. Our editorial staff is private and unaffiliated. Please contact editor@anglicansonline.org about information on this page. ©2015 Society of Archbishop Justus. Please address all spam to press@anglicansonline.org |