The concept of a paternal curse of vanishing refers to a belief or superstition that a curse or affliction can be passed down from father to son, leading to a gradual disappearance or erasure of the family line. This idea has been prevalent in various cultures and folklore throughout history, often associated with specific families or bloodlines. The curse of vanishing is often portrayed as a punishment or consequence for past transgressions or sins committed by the ancestor. It is believed that this curse can manifest in different ways, such as a decline in social status, financial difficulties, infertility, or a series of tragic events befalling the male descendants. While the specifics of the curse can vary based on cultural and regional beliefs, the main idea remains the same – the gradual disappearance and decline of the family line. This can create a sense of fear and desperation among those who believe in such curses, as they often feel helpless in breaking free from the cycle of misfortune.
Even as a coach, I play in the arena of make-believe as I imagine that anything is possible. I use and have prescribed the success principle “Act as if.” When we act as if we are more confident, surer of ourselves and of our abilities, we are playing make-believe. We are inviting magic into our world and into ourselves. Whether that is fairytale magic or magic we create through our beliefs and actions, it is still magic.
We have become so educated and enlightened that we re taking the fun out of being curious, of exploring, of believing and allowing for magic, or even a miracle. We have become so educated and enlightened that we re taking the fun out of being curious, of exploring, of believing and allowing for magic, or even a miracle.
This can create a sense of fear and desperation among those who believe in such curses, as they often feel helpless in breaking free from the cycle of misfortune. In some cases, individuals who are aware of their family's curse may go to great lengths to try and reverse or break the curse. This can involve visiting spiritual healers, performing rituals or ceremonies, or seeking out talismans or amulets believed to ward off the curse's effects.
Do you believe in magic?
I’m not sure exactly when or where I learned it. Was it overt, clearly stated in some book or class? Or did I more intuit it, sniff it out?
Magic is a bad theological term. Avoid it whenever possible.
I suspect this has to do with our Reformational roots. Magic was associated with the dark arts, the occult, paganism. And maybe just as much, it brought to mind hocus pocus, Catholic sacramentalism. Besides, we are humanists, learned people, gatherers of knowledge. None of this “eye-of-newt”* stuff for us.
Increasingly, however, I am drawn to the term magic.
I want to believe in magic. In our current context, I notice that “magical” is a favored, sacred adjective. Is that the power of Disney? Friends return from a European riverboat cruise and describe it as magical. A ceremony honoring an injured veteran or a retiring teacher. A dog reunited with its owner. A descant in the closing hymn of worship.
Magical! All of it. Joy, beauty, thrill, power, amazement. Something ineffable. Something apparently unquantifiable. Something holy, or nigh unto it.
We might conjecture that our attraction to magic is pushback on our coldly technological world. Magic consoles us, telling us that there are things beyond measure and analysis. With AI, for example, we want to hold on to the idea there is something essentially, mysteriously human that no computer will ever be able to learn. But we fear that perhaps we are simply neural networks all the way down. Can baseball be fully understood with sabermetrics or are there intangibles and magic X factors?
Is magic just a fizzier, funner (yes, I know that’s not a recognized word, but I’m on a campaign to make it one) term for what we used to call “god of the gaps”? It covers those inexplicable gaps until science is able to explain them?
+ + Magical Thinkers + +
In all honesty, it was writers and names who appear with some frequency here on the Reformed Journal that caused me to ponder magic and notice how I use and live the term.
In Tom Boogaart’s writings, I often hear him lamenting that we now live in a disenchanted universe — desecrated by our own doing. Glory, the holy, God — each has been deemed ancillary or unnecessary. Of course this has major repercussions for the way we live with and care for non-human creation. But the implications go much beyond that.
Interestingly, if I’m hearing Tom, he lays this disenchantment less at the feet of science and more at our barren understanding of the sacraments. How can we live in an enchanted world where God’s glory is among us if there is nothing enchanting in our sacraments? (As Daniel Meeter has observed, for modern, American Protestants miracles can happen everywhere except in church. “Uncle Lou’s leg grew longer. I found my car keys. My neighbor beat cancer.” But, the Lord’s Supper is merely a memorial, an object lesson!)
Jacques Ellul1912-1994
Then recently Jason Lief brought Jacques Ellul into the conversation on The Reformational, Jason’s substack newsletter. If I’m reading Ellul-through-Lief accurately, our world hasn’t been demythologized at all. The intensity of our conflicts and the vehemence of our rhetoric display that we are fighting about “holy” things, no matter how “secular” the issue might appear. All of our wars are still “wars of religion.”
For Ellul, then, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a message of freedom from all these religions — an iconoclastic smashing of the idols that claim to be magical. As followers of Jesus, we don’t have to win the latest wars of religion, but instead trust that Jesus has already undone all the empty magic of the world.
Boogaart, and many others, want to bring back magic — or at least re-sacralize the world. Ellul and friends say that Christ has released us from all the false magic around us. I’m not convinced they’re as much at odds as it might appear. Is Ellul possibly calling upon us to trust in Narnia’s deep magic? I don’t know.
+ + Magical Thinking + +
Still, I am thinking about magic — and noticing the magic I live with and hope for.
1. A few summers ago, we encouraged the children in our congregation to look for the “Green Man”** and even had a reproduction gargoyle. Some people worried we were preaching paganism. Our aim wasn’t to bring back pixies and sprites, but instead to cause the kids to watch for and enjoy the wonder of creation.
2. Like Abraham, I sometimes bargain with God in my prayers. On the news I’ll hear that food and supplies for 20,000 are headed to some crisis where 50,000 are in dire need. I’ll pray, “God, what if those supplies stretched to aid 40,000? Who’d be the wiser? Seems like you’ve done this sort of work before. Well, okay, how about at least 30,000?” Or I’ll pray, “God, what if all the bullets manufactured today would have an undetected defect that would cause them to miss their target? Or if all the missiles launched today would be duds? Okay, what if you’d make only 25% defective or duds? I’ll even take five percent!” Does it work? I don’t know, but sometimes I still pray like that.
3. I’m relatively convinced that partaking of the Lord’s Supper actually makes me a better person. A long term study has proven difficult. But short term, its impact appears to last until about Tuesday afternoon, sometimes even into Wednesday.
4. I’ve written about how I wonder if the large stone or metal crosses found in the town square of almost every French village aren’t merely cultural artifacts from days gone by, but somehow silently radiate the love of God. The teeny sign of the cross I discreetly thumb on my grandchildren’s foreheads at farewells. The minister’s raised hands at the benediction. All of these things “do something.”
Do I truly believe this?
Yes, kind of, more or less, depending on the day. It’s magical thinking, no doubt. I’m not claiming it proves anything or could ever be proven. But to disprove it is difficult, too. I’m simply saying I want to believe in magic.
* I was today years old when I learned that “eye of newt” is not a bodily part of an amphibian, but another name for mustard seed. So perhaps Christians do go in for eye of newt.
** It’s only conjecture, possibly even magical thinking, but was King Charles III inspired by our children’s times in worship to adorn the bottom of his coronation invitations with the Green Man. We’ll never know for sure.
Still, I am thinking about magic — and noticing the magic I live with and hope for.
However, the success of these efforts is often uncertain and depends on individual interpretations and beliefs. The concept of a paternal curse of vanishing speaks to the intricacies of human belief systems and the power that our ancestors and family histories hold over us. It is a reminder of the lasting impact that our actions can have on future generations and the weight of responsibility that comes with being part of a lineage. Whether or not one believes in the existence of such curses, the idea of a paternal curse of vanishing serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us to be mindful of the decisions we make and their potential consequences. It prompts us to reflect on the importance of breaking harmful cycles and working towards positive change, not only for our own wellbeing but also for the generations that will come after us..
Reviews for "The Struggle of Living with the Paternal Curse"
1. Jane - 2/5 - I was really excited to read "Paternal Curse of Vanishing" after hearing so much hype about it, but I was left extremely disappointed. The writing style was convoluted and hard to follow, making it difficult for me to immerse myself in the story. The characters felt one-dimensional and lacked depth, making it hard for me to connect with them on any level. Overall, the plot fell flat and failed to keep me engaged. I wouldn't recommend this book to others looking for a gripping and captivating read.
2. Tom - 1/5 - "Paternal Curse of Vanishing" was a complete waste of my time. The story was so predictable and lacked any originality. The pacing was all over the place, with boring and unnecessary scenes dragging on, while important events were rushed through. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, making it hard for me to believe in the characters or their interactions. I struggled to finish this book and felt incredibly disappointed by the end. Save your money and find something better to read.
3. Sarah - 2/5 - I had high hopes for "Paternal Curse of Vanishing" based on the intriguing synopsis, but unfortunately, the execution fell flat. The world-building was lacking, leaving me with little understanding of the setting and the rules that governed it. The magic system was never fully explained, which made it hard for me to fully immerse myself in the story. The plot seemed to drag on, with few exciting moments to keep me engaged. Overall, I found the book lacking in depth and substance. Not my cup of tea.
4. David - 2/5 - "Paternal Curse of Vanishing" failed to live up to the hype for me. The writing style was overly verbose and pretentious, making it hard for me to connect with the story. The characters were unlikable and lacked clear motivations, leaving me uninvested in their journey. The plot felt disjointed and lacked cohesiveness, with subplots that added little to the overall story. I struggled to finish this book and wouldn't recommend it to others looking for a captivating read. Disappointing overall.