My Horn is Exalted

The following is an email sent from Art to the group on 22 December 2015.



I'm picking up an old thread regarding achieving success and fame in the context of Christianity. Eschewing any false "prosperity gospel" perspectives, it seems that the Christian is exalted only IN GOD.

I'm looking at today's psalm:

My heart exalts in the LORD,
my horn is exalted in my God.
I have swallowed up my enemies.
I rejoice in my victory.

Only after one has been swallowed up IN GOD—or more precisely, had one's "horn" swallowed up IN GOD—is it exalted. I'm sorry, I've always thought "my horn is exalted" is pretty funny.

And maybe this is too sexual a way of looking at it, but is God the only environment in which we swell, become erect and strong and capable of projecting forth that fructifying seed? Only IN GOD can this life be nourished and flourish into its fullness. Paradoxically, is the point at which we, in turn, are able to swallow up the horns of our enemies? And I don't think this can be thought of a pre-Christian vanquishing of enemies, which would necessitate some malevolent mechanism, an abysmal or toxic womb, vagina dentata, etc. In other words, something antithetical and incoherent with the beneficence that has benefited us.

Yes, bows are broken and the tottering gird on strength, but neither of these mess up the phallic/yonic imagery. The arrows of our enemies remain unbroken and, well, the word gird.

So, we swallow up our enemies in some similarly benevolent sense, nourishing and nurturing them as it were. The victory consists in their enmity being dispersed, defused...made diffuse but allowed to flourish in its inner essence. In the Christian vision, wouldn't those horns also be exalted? Bows broken, but horns exalted. We swallow them up; they gird on strength.

So back to the axiom: my horn is exalted in my God. And this means only in God. This means total self-giving, no guardedness, no prophylactic constraint, no holding anything back. Thus, the watchwords for the Christian artist (or, more precisely, the artist) are prodigality, proliferation, profusion. We pour out the whole alabaster bottle of perfume, keeping none for ourselves, nor even for any charitable purposes (Matt 26:7).

In this environment, the desire for money and fame aren't destroyed, they are just increasingly diffuse, negligible. The desire for money and fame can only solidify in a falsely exalted, frozen state. True exaltation occurs only in an environment of ecstatic love, wherein all falseness melts.

On a somewhat related note, enjoy Klaus Nomi's performance of the aria from Purcell's King Arthur, "What Power Art Thou," in which the Cold Genius is awoken by Cupid and later is forced to acknowledge his power. Incidentally, this was Nomi's last performance before succumbing to AIDS.

What power art thou
Who from below
Hast made me rise
Unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow

See'st thou not how stiff
And wondrous old
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold

I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath

Let me, let me,
Let me freeze again
Let me, let me
Freeze again to death
Let me, let me, let me
Freeze again to death...