Latest Articles by Sarah Canice Funke
So after weeks of attending the First Lutheran Church's choir practices, yesterday was the day the Kaufmanns and I were able to sing Cantata No. 31 (Easter Cantata) with a full Baroque orchestra, including Baroque trumpets.
One of the arias in the Cantata struck me as perfect for a funeral (Close my eyes in darkness and let them awake to Jesus' radiant joy), but also very fitting for a day dedicated to celebrating the moment death's sting was rendered powerless.
I need to do that more often. Remembering comes difficult when the soul stands hungry in want. This Easter refreshed me even as the wan winterish sun tried to convince itself Spring had arrived.
The high church experience was very beautiful, even if I did nearly outstrip the pair in front of me in my enthusiasm for processing. But a few corrective nods set me back to an orderly pace.
The brunch in between services allowed me to try my hand at the old family recipe for croissants. They tasted best Saturday night as I pulled them piping hot from the oven, but since they all disappeared like hot cakes then I assumed they still tasted okay a day later.
Afternoon lunch at the Sondreggers meant more food and fellowshipping, followed by afternoon service.
I opened a Money Market Fund with USAA yesterday, because the interest rates are much better than those for a normal checking account, and it seemed a wise move given that money market funds only lose money if USAA goes belly up. In such a case, keeping the money in my checking account won't be any safer.
Now the Money Market Fund is a wise financial decision for me, but also offers temptations to stockpile. It's not that I have any particular plans for accumulated funds, just a miserly pleasure in hoarding. That same mentality even carries over into my giving: I feverishly add up everything I give away, trying to beat last year's totals, excited as amounts grow. It's like I have some heavenly savings account: every time I tithe or give to special projects, I am not losing money, just transferring funds, making a deposit. There is a Biblical mandate to "store up treasure in Heaven," but don't get me wrong: of course that treasure can't be itemized in $US and you can never turn those deposits into some sort of down payment on a ticket to heaven. That tab's already covered.
Really, all this sort of mentality does is channel my innate desire to accumulate towards a more outwardly "laudable" goal: support for the church, missions, others. Generosity becomes a game with myself. And so the motivations waver between self-focused competition and true delight in serving others. Some argue that altruism is never entirely free from egoism, and so I can only give as I am given the grace to give. Self-sufficient generosity is no true generosity, simply a disguised claim to God's own glory.
I bring all this up because I want college students/graduate students/singles just starting in the work force to realize that giving is not for millionaires. Take this as a self-directed pep talk to inspire myself to give more. I also want to inspire others to give more, not because someone out there needs the money, but because the act of giving fixes our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith.
"But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." 1 Cor. 15:20.
I know that Evan already put this verse on his blog, but the sermon today was on 1 Cor. 15 and what is worth saying once is worth saying twice, quite possibly because this is what I need to hear and to believe.
I apologize for the poor quality of this particular track, but it's the only one I have, and this excerpt from Bach's b minor mass was running through my head today.
I like this. Truth seasoned with reality of experience.
What if epistemology treated knowledge as experience? To know is to live and that rightly.
Credit given where credit is due: what justifies our knowledge?
Western Knowledge works on the reward system: the only difference between true belief and knowledge is the esteem we lavish on knowledge. Knowledge is justified whereas true belief is not. We esteem what we value: hard work earns rewards. The internalist has examined the facts and can prove (as best he can) that his belief is true. The externalist says all that matters is that the facts be true, whether he can prove it or not.
The internalist says "but how can we trust you?" The externalist says "But why do you need to trust me?"
The internalist seeks to claim merit for his actions. The externalist realizes he can claim nothing except 1) chance or 2) grace. Either his belief just happened to coincide with truth or else someone else made sure these two (belief and reality) coincided.
If my true belief is based on my ability to explain it, my faith would be shaky indeed. But my knowledge really depends on one thing alone: that Jesus Christ did in fact live, die, and live again and that he did so for me. Precarious to let truth hang so wholly beyond my grasp? But when was life ever under my control to begin with?
This is by no means an apologetic for externalism nor a rebuttal of internalism. Merely some musings provoked by Evan's post and a discussion with Luke regarding epistemological internalism versus externalism. In the long run, I find the style of Evan's post more convincing than theoretical musings over academic terms, but find that I don't really write that way. And so I direct the traffic else where.
Well, After all the hoopla on Theonomy, I am finding its presence everywhere, even on Facebook. Granted, I believe that this group really represents just a tiny subsection of a much wider theonomist doctrinal stance. And perhaps this is really a reflection of Kinism. I am confused regarding labels. EDIT: On second thought, this could simply be just a libertarian group, of the more hard-core variety. (I myself am a self-proclaimed libertarian in my Facebook profile, because I have leanings in that direction, but of course, with any label, there is no room for qualifications. So if you really want to know my political stance, just ask me.)
For those of you unable to access Facebook, I will give you a brief description of the group. Titled "Lincoln Was a Tyrant," the raison d’être for the group is Lincoln "myth-busting." Granted, I realize that Lincoln was no sterling white knight, but the group seems a bit vicious in its attack, some members suggesting group officer titles such as John Wilkes Booth. Honestly, I don't really even know what to believe about Lincoln anymore, because he has adopted such iconographic status. He means much more than his life: he actually stands in for an entire era of history. Thus, no one (detractors or promoters) actually looks at him as a man in a context, with both good and bad. Depending on who is talking, half of Lincoln's life is left unsaid.
Anyway, you can read the group description in the extended entry.
The name basically says it all. Lincoln suspended habeus corpus for the entire duration of his presidency, jailed several thousand American citizens for attempting to vote Democrat (the official charge being "polluting the ballot box"), jailed several Democratic politicians when they were elected to Congress from Northern states during the war in order to keep the anti-war sentiment in the country suppressed, and commenced the uncostitutional invasion of two non-seceeding states along with the Confederacy on the pretense that secession was treasonous (even though several states had attempted to seceed earlier in the 19th century and had not been found in violation of the law, and several states only signed the constitution in the first place under the assumption that secession was always an option).
Also, this is not a racist group. Abraham Lincoln on many occasions claimed that African-Americans were an inferior, non-human race. He refused to align himself with abolitionists because he felt that they were too radical because of their claim that African-Americans were human beings. Finally, he wanted to forcibly deport all people of African descent back to Africa or possibly to a Caribbean nation because he believed that they were 1) polluting the White race and 2) slavery contradicted his economic policy.
He is called the "Great Emancipator," but if you read the Emancipation Proclamation, you will see that it only freed slaves in states not currently occupied by the Union Army. He issued strict orders to the Union Army NOT to free any slaves they came across. In short, the Emancipation Proclamation was an attempt to do at least one of two things, if not both: 1) turn the war into a war over slavery (it was not considered to be such until the EP was issued) so that anti-slavery, European nations would not lend comfort to the Confederacy, and/or 2) incite a violent slave revolt which would on the one hand cause disruption in the Confederacy but on the other hand would cause the deaths of many innocent African-Americans.
To summarize, Lincoln has an unwarranted reputation as a champion of human dignity and an emancipator of slaves, but he was in fact nothing but a tyrant who used military force to achieve his economic objectives, and never with any thought to helping African-Americans.
...Question: is 90% of theology merely a justification of our own personality?
...Observation: Maturity is often simply the result of having a bad memory. But forgetting is not the same as growing.
...and from Ray LaMontagne: War is not the answer/the answer is within you.
"The kingdom of God cometh not with outward show; neither shall they say, Lo here! or, Lo there! for behold, the kingdom of God is within you." (Luke 17: 20, 21.)
...and if this all seems mysterious and vague, remember that bobbins merely hold the threads of the argument...
Make a judgment call on the state of my soul: I find the spiritual to be very "unreal." It's the "carnal" person that I find to be more persuasive, more compelling.
What do I mean by this?
Take the example of two students who are considering dropping out of Christian College and transferring to Secular State U., and their reasons for the switch.
The godly student: I feel I can minister to non-Christians better by attending a secular school. I feel so insulated and I don't feel challenged to defend my faith here.
The "unspiritual" student: I hate the rules, man.
Whatever the true motives of the godly student may be, the "unspiritual" student's reason just rings more honest in my ears. Perhaps because the self-centredness is blatant, on the table. We know what we are dealing with; there are no hidden agendas. I would confront the first student ("What do you mean you don't feel challenged? Do you hide in your room? Why are you not involved off-campus activities? Etc., etc.), but with the unspiritual student, there is nothing to say. Perhaps this is because the reasons are framed in two different forms: one is presented as an argument and the other expressed as personal opinion. But again, I think the second version is still more upfront.
Is spirituality the new carnality? Or is my desire for authenticity supplanting my appreciation for spiritual maturity?
I will admit my experience with hip-hop is rather limited, but this is the first song I've ever heard that deals with post-abortion regret (from a male perspective). The style reminds me of Mos Def, but without as much scratching. EDIT: Actually, I take that back. The band is kind of all over the musical map, some rock, some rap, some pop, depending on which song you listen to.
Flipsyde has toured with Snoop Dogg and Black Eyed Peas. Their single "Someday" was the theme song for the 2006 Winter Olympics.
I am still trying to decide whether I like this group. But this song definitely caught my attention. So unapologetically pro-life.
Here is their "title" song:
Thanks to Mr. Howard, I wanted to read The Little Prince again. And this part is, I think, my favorite. It seems so simple and yet profound. I read it over and over.
It was then that the fox appeared.
"Good morning," said the fox.
"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.
"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."
"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."
"I am a fox," the fox said.
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.
But, after some thought, he added:
"What does that mean--'tame'?"
"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"
"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean--'tame'?"
"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower . . . I think that she has tamed me . . ."
"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."
"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.
The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.
"On another planet?"
"Yes."
"Are there hunters on that planet?"
"No."
"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"
"No."
"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat . . ."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please--tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . ."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me--like that--in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . ."
The next day the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you . . . One must observe the proper rites . . ."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose . . ."
"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
I was having too much fun with GarageBand. I blend well with myself, don't I?
This is perhaps one of my favorite songs to sing with my sisters, but not having them, I used a little technology to pull it off...
Although, I will return to fix the top track, because the fact that I am slightly flat is bugging me...
And this perhaps is my favorite hymn (after Lo How a Rose and O Sacred Head). So simple and yet so beautiful...
When I Survey
And these songs pretty much sum up how I feel today.
Hey, with all the discussions going on about home, I thought I would throw this music video out there. The artist is Matisyahu, a Hasidic reggae/rapper. One of my colleagues gave a presentation on him in class. The song challenges the historical importance of geographic place (i.e., The Promised Land, Zion, Jerusalem) to Jewish identity. Matisyahu refers to that tradition but suggests identity be rooted in a "place" that is relational rather than geographic. I liked it. I like Matisyahu.
This reminded me of how the Christian does not live in a particular place as a nation, but we are scattered across the world. Our New Jerusalem is not a geographic place here, but our identity is in our relationship with Christ. And identity is broader than ethnicity (also strongly tied to place): "all tribes and nations" are seen building the Jerusalem Wall in this video.
Perhaps the music video is idealistic, but then again...our home is not fully here.
Is it only when we cease to need people that we can truly love them?
To escape from the clinging self-serving love that dies without approval.
To let go to gain all.
This is the thought of my day.
~Matthew 10:39
I've been mulling over this all week. It's good stuff.
(My title quote, a Radiohead lyric, is taken out of context..to the existentialist, the Other is danger, to the Christian, Freedom itself?)
***************
Some of these sides are easier to bring out than others (and multiple people can bring them out, not just the friends listed). Some sides overlap a good deal. But some sides are perhaps created to the point of "only [specific friend] could make [Sarah] laugh in that way...)
Anna brings out the silly side of me (well, anyone who tapes infomercials of herself with a shower caddy on her head and interprets dance with a gingham-checked tablecloth pinned to her shirt is bound to bring out the silly side in someone...Hannah Tuggy is good at this, too).
Jenny brings out the effusive side of me.
Mr. Howard (or at least his blog) brings out the Deep Thought side of me.
Tuggy brings out the spiritual growth side of me.
Tabitha brings out the "I want to write lists about people I love" side of me.
Carrie brings out the feminist side of me. :)
Natalie brings out the empowered side of me.
Evan brings out the introspective analyst side of me.
Luke brings out the "I can create an ontological argument for the existence of tea spoons" side of me.
Jeremy G brings out the techie side of me (and believe me, this is very hard to do).
Caitlyn brings out the mischievous side of me.
Christa brings out the factual/practical side of me (or at least rescues me from complete abstract-dom).
Josh and Stephen B bring out the totally random, bizarre spontaneous side of me.
Rachel brings out the wonderment side of me.
Ginny brings out the bookworm in me.
Joe brings out the snarky literalist side of me.
Bert brings out the recursive banter side of me (recursive banter is banter that continually references previous conversational material).
Hope brings out the "I love my body" side of me.
Linnea brings out the sexy academic side of me.
Keri brings out the unburdening of my soul side of me.
Abbie brings out the "I want to do everything + 1 more thing" side of me.*
This is perhaps why I feel sometimes that I wished all my friends knew each other and were in one specific spot. Can you imagine how we will all know each other so much more fully in heaven??
*The danger of these lists is that someone is inevitably left out. It's not that these overlooked friends don't have an impact on my life; it is simply that I haven't had the opportunity to fully articulate it.
I always pick one day of the semester to worry about things that really don't need worrying about and yesterday was that day. I worried about the following, in no particular order of importance:
1. What my prof would think of a response paper that ended up using a lot of personal-based examples.
2. What the topics should be for my term papers.
3. Whether I really want to try to spend three years in England.
4. Whether the abstract for a conference I REALLY want to attend is good enough to be accepted.
5. Whether I have forgotten more concert note deadlines.
6. Whether I can attend the Fencing Tournaments I'd like to.
7. Why 33Miles is playing the same time that I have to be at another world music class concert. And trying to figure out if I can still meet up with Collin, maybe on Sunday, and make it back in time for the Bible study I volunteered to lead.
8. What the heck I want to do with my life.
9. Why I am in grad school.
10. Whom I should marry.
11. What kind of toothpaste I should buy.
This verse has always been comforting, though.
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:33-34
Words! Words! Words! I'm so sick of words!...Don't talk of love, show me! "Show Me," My Fair Lady
The pastor was preaching on Ephesians 2:1-10. Salvation is not based on the good works we do, but we are still saved in order to do them. Faith without works is dead. And all of a sudden, this song bursts forth in my head, and I am off making comparisons between scriptural truth and popular cultural musicals...
God speaks in mysterious ways. It simply never occurred to me that the Holy Spirit just might sound like Julie Andrews.*
I don't mean to be disrespectful; the song just seemed to make perfect sense in the context of the sermon. I also firmly believe that musicals provide a song for just about every occasion in the human predicament.
*I know Audrey Hepburn's in the film, but Julie Andrews sings the Broadway version, and it is her voice I have on CD.
Joy, which was the small publicity of the pagan, is the gigantic secret of the Christian....There was something that He hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.
- "Orthodoxy," G. K. Chesterton
Perhaps GKC wanders into the realm of theological speculation, but it's speculation that really resonates. Because while we know that Jesus wept, ate, and fell asleep, do Scriptures ever tell us that Jesus laughed? Or do we just assume this side of our Savior through the full-bodiedness of His complete humanity? But if joy is such a key component of the Christian life, why do we not hear that Jesus laughed? If someone knows a verse, please tell it to me: it will be my favorite verse.
Ahhhh....
I am becoming disenchanted with the evangelical sphere.
So much about personal work and our changing of the world.
So little about Christ's work and His transformation of the soul.
Does not Paul preach grace before he preached works?
Why do we skip to the second part?
Why does everything have to be practical? (And practical for whom? For a small subsection of the Christian subculture...?)
Why do we no longer understand? (What happens when your practical measures fail to apply to me? How will I know how to adapt?)
Apologetics. Historigraphical evidence. Philosophical premises.
When a real live nonChristian stands before you, what is he really looking for?
I am so not into being "spiritual."
I hate the buzzwords and prayer groups and clique-ishly ingrown bubbles of self-protection.
I hate the God-speak: "Personal relationship (what other kind is there, I wonder?)," "invite Him into your heart," "spending time with God" all make me vaguely queasy.
I hate asking "So what can I pray for you about this week?" and having someone reply, "Well, not much."
I hate doing the same in return.
I feel intensely hungry for something else.
You came to take us
all things go, all things go
to recreate us
all things grow, all things grow
we had our mindset
(I made a lot of mistakes)
all things know, all things know
(I made a lot of mistakes)
you had to find it
(I made a lot of mistakes)
all things go, all things go
(I made a lot of mistakes)
"Chicago," Sufjan
8:46am, Wednesday
I mostly wrote this post out of sense of frustration/emptiness. I had just returned from a Bible study that one of my friends has been going to this past year (I'm back in Colorado Springs now). I just sort of felt that there was such an emphasis on what *I* had to do, what *I* needed to believe, what *I* had to experience, what *I* had to tell people, that I was beginning to lose sight of how it is Christ working in me to accomplish these things, that He must become more as I become less...
However, ranting is something of a cop-out, if that is all I do. So I'm going to keep going to the study over the summer, but please pray I have a severe attitude change about it.
At Suite101.
Go there. Thank you very much.
I just had one of the most freeing and uplifting conversations with my parents. Let me just say what a tremendous blessing being honest with each other and supportive really is. I love my family very much. Pent-up frustrations and burdens built up from undealt with issues in my past have been released, to trouble me (hopefully) no more. Sleep will be sweet.
have a happy easter this sunday i want to write thoughts that are bubbling over in fervent ferment mostly to do with faith desire pullman dualism monism materialism spiritualism binaries trinaries joy sacrifice relationship alienation
i want to correlate every philosophy thats ever torn my heart out and somehow make sense of it all existentialism romanticism rationalism gnosticism materialism but why does the disguised truth hurt so much when i could find it where the veil was torn away but still my eyes do not see
to see is to know
to say i see is to mean i understand
a material world means eyes alone give knowlege
but i want to love this earth without blinding eyes to next
On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.
" 'You will be ever hearing but never understanding;
you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.
For this people's heart has become calloused;
they hardly hear with their ears,
and they have closed their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their hearts
and turn, and I would heal them.'
But blessed are your eyes because they see, and your ears because they hear. For I tell you the truth, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.
Matthew 13:14-17
See Jenni's blog for a perceptive interpretation.
I've been reading Erving Goffman's Presentation of the Self in Everyday Life, which, if you have a cynical view of human nature to begin with, is a freakish book to allow to infiltrate your mind. This sociologist basically examines the performances we maintain in order to communicate messages: sometimes performances (our actions) are deliberately constructed because alternative versions just send the wrong message. For example, a customer wants to shop at a store that appears to be bustling with too many tasks to complete, because the evidence of numerous shoppers communicates that the store must be doing something right (i.e., offering good service and quality goods). A store wants to attract customers in order to stay in business. Thus the store must make the customer think the business is prosperous and well-patronized. Thus its employees must look busy, even if it means dusting a clean shelf till the polish wears off. Perhaps the store is in fact very busy, but receives most of its income from internet or phone orders. These service employees are not seen by the customer entering the store. So the customer must view the "stand-in" employee attempt to look busy and communicate the appropriate (and perhaps very true) message that the store is successful. However, the employee himself is enacting a sham regarding his own personal busyness. Conversely, an employee can be extremely busy, even if the store is going under. Thus the message is true about the employee and a sham regarding the business.
And this book makes me ask questions about spirituality and spiritual performances. We expect people to use certain phrases or gestures in order to indicate sincerity or true belief. We expect, perhaps, a crack in the voice to indicate pathos and "real gritty" experience, or maybe empathy and conviction. People with no expressions are said to be fake. Or we are told to do the right thing, even if we don't feel like it; feelings (might) come later. We want to be good witnesses, so we refrain from doing things (or we go out and do things) that reflect well on Christianity (or Christ Himself).
But we seem to have the idea that performance belies sincerity. "That's not the way things really are; he's only acting." Spontaneity is more natural and thus a more "real" indicator of a person's character. But what if the message communicated is real? What if Christ's love is real even if I don't feel like believing it at the time that I show love to someone else? And lastly, why can't a performance just simply flat out be reality? If someone chooses her words carefully, in order to communicate precisely what she means, why can't someone also choose her actions carefully? I realize there is the possibility (all too often) of encountering someone who says all the right things, goes through all the actions, maybe even feels all the right emotions and yet ends up falling away. If a possibilty exists at all then I am not immune; rather I fall dangerously close. The words, actions, feelings are sometimes there. But sometimes they are not. And I look inside myself and ask in confusion: am I really just performing a sham faith?
Which leads me to ask: what is faith?
Is it some words?
Is it some feeling of conviction?
Is it some action?
Is it a combination of all three?
Or is it simply God taking me to Himself, regardless of anything I've ever done or could do?
Grace is the most humiliating thing that can ever happen to a girl.
“I know what I want, but I just don’t know how to go about getting it." Jimi Hendrix.
"Manic Depression," Are You Experienced?, 1967.
I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
Scratch that. I know what I want to be when I grow up.
I don't know what God wants me to be when I grow up.
I want to want what God wants, but I start to feel tired trying.
Why the disconnect?
But...I am happy now. Why does the future seem so ominous? A horror flick: what you don't see scares.
Escape routes. Alternative options. Dead ends. Rerouting. Closed for construction. Speeding ticket. English round-about. Flat tire. Neighbor with jump cables. Bed and breakfast. Journey's end.
If I know where I am going, does it matter how I get there?
Yesterday in Music for Film and Television, the prof talked about the McCarthy hearings (HUAC, or House of UnAmerican Activities Committee) and their effect on Hollywood. Hundreds of film makers, actors, directors were blacklisted and thrown out of work. Others resorted to revealing potential reds, in order to save their own skins. Walt Disney turned over some 1/3 of his animation staff (according to the lecture). The prof painted the HUAC as witch-hunters, and to my 21st century perspective, the Committee does appear painfully ignorant and trigger-happy, with no concern for true justice whatsoever.
However, what was interesting to me is that the prof mentioned a growing emphasis on God. Apparently, if the Communists were atheists, emphasizing religion would differentiate one from a red. The 50s were the time of The Ten Commandments, The Robe, and Ben Hur. That's also when "In God We Trust" was added to our money and "One Nation Under God" to the Pledge of Alligience.
The 50s occurred less than a half century ago. My parents were born in the 50s. Why is it that Christian America gets so uptight about attempts to take the "under God" phrase out of the pledge when it was only added as a "take that, you irreverant reds" act of defiance against Russia? It doesn't seem the phrase was ever an expression of true belief (on the part of the nation as a whole. Individuals can mean the phrase very sincerely). In fact, maybe I don't want people saying things they don't believe ("In God We Trust," for instance). Wouldn't that be blasphemy?
And that's also a reason I hesitate to invite nonbelievers to church. Sure, we invite them so they will hear the word of God preached during the sermon. But what about the other 45 minutes of the service? I really, really don't want my unbeliever friends singing "I love you, Lord," when they in fact hate His very being. It's like bringing them to the Lord's table and inviting them to eat and drink judgment on themselves.
Edit--on second thought, do any of us truly and fully believe all the worship we offer to God? Maybe I shouldn't be so exclusive. But I do know that I would not be able to participate in a Muslim service. And I hesitate to ask someone to offer public worship to a Person in whom they don't believe at all. It seems like an open invitation to commit gross blasphemy at the worst and blatant insincerity at the very least.
Tired of walking in the wind to school.
Tired of wearing a scarf because it's prettier and won't muss my hair, instead of my hat, which is warm.
Tired of being too stubborn to end fruitless debates.
Tired of being too cowardly to ask important questions.
Tired of having my words twisted to say what I don't agree with.
Tired of feeling compelled to explain myself.
Tired of feeling incompetant.
Tired of worrying about the future.
Tired of freshmen undergraduates trying to flirt with me, even after I explain that I am in a graduate program and hope they figure out I am at least five years older.
Tired of conforming to class systems.
Tired of despising what I don't like and getting defensive about what I do.
Tired of my pride.
Tired of my legalism.
Tired of being different from my nonChristian friends only in that I don't have sex on occasion, swear a lot, or get drunk over the weekends (I mean, does my faith really consist of such superficial distinctions?)
Tired of feeling alone.
Tired of wondering how to love people.
Tired of being too afraid to try.
Thankful for empty buses that stop just as you reach the bus stop and that take you the rest of the way to school.
Thankful for wool mittens.
Thankful for Christian friends who refuse complacency and struggle to know God.
Thankful for challenges to examine my motives.
Thankful for church friends who invite me to supper and birthday parties.
Thankful for guys who are kind.
Thankful for grandparent figures and high schoolers.
Thankful that others are willing to bridge the generation gap.
Thankful for God's grace.
Thankful for the removal of boasting material.
Thankful for God's presence.
Thankful for God's love.
Thankful for God's faithfulness.
Thankful for God's truth.
Thankful for God's sovereignty.
Eyes from self to God shatters pride and pours joy in wineskins of new mold.
...or so they say over here. I think that it's true, but I tend to drink water when I hang out with the graduate students at the local pub. I'm not a teetotaler, just short on funds. I don't know exactly how college students finance their drinking habits, but perhaps they don't support their local used book store quite as generously as I seem to be doing...to each his own source of pleasure, eh? :)
Anyway, my life is immersing back into the university experience, both in terms of classes and "extra-curricular" activities. I got invited to a party scheduled for tonight entitled "CEO or Office Ho." The only criterion governing attendance is that one must show up in costume with a resume. Normally I enjoy dressing up and writing crazy cover letters, but as some people started describing their intended costumes, I became a bit suspicious and eventually looked "Office Ho" up online. Turns out it's a movie. One categorized in the "adult" genre. I am not ready to be an adult. So I'll probably skip out. Which leads me to the question: what do you guys do if you get invited to parties in S----, especially if the party could potentially feature ill-clad, passed-out persons? Do you go as a way of reaching out to students? I feel that they probably would be too drunk to notice if I were there or not, and that there are other ways of demonstrating cameraderie and friendship (and yet that reason seems rather self-centred, too...whom am I to make such grandiose claims of "knowing what's best?") But perhaps the real reason I am staying away is that I am too cowardly to go to a function at which I will have no fun myself and see even less possibility of contributing something worthwhile. I feel so highly inadequate as a witness. But then again, I suppose that's because I forget that I am inadequate (the salvation of these people does not depend upon my doing all the steps correctly). If Paul boasts in his weaknesses, then I suppose I definitely have a lot to brag about these days.
--Taken from an email sent to a friend currently overseas who asked how Canada was...
Lately I have been studying musical appropriation, or how one culture uses the music of another culture for purposes ranging from assimilation to stereotyping to represention to novelty to the parody, a rigid form of representation. Usually the professor likes us to bring in examples of music that fit the concept of the week. I was thinking of using ApologetiX for an example of the Christian "culture" appropriating/parodying pop music genres for their own purposes of evangelism.
But....am I really brave enough to play "The Real Sin Saviour" (The Real Slim Shady--Eminem) and "Yes, Today" (Yesterday--Lennon) in class? Both these parody choices are extremely fascinating in that the originals carry multiple strains of appropriation themselves. The white Eminem appropriates black hip-hop. The rock musician John Lennon appropriates a string quartet. So many levels to parody and appropriation. My bringing this in would be perfectly legitimate, since we listened to Romanian hip-hop last week. But can I make the case that Christianity is a culture?* Do I even want to?
I guess my fear in bringing in explicitly evangelistic songs is that I will distance the message. It would certainly be the most explicit I have been all semester about what I believe.
*Will the real Christian please stand up?
I am at the Wheaton Philosophy Conference. The topic? "Philosophers Talk About Heaven and Hell." Interesting that in the keynote address, presented by Jerry Walls, from Ashbury Theological Seminary, with all the talk about salvation and issues of avoiding hell or entering heaven, not one mention was made of Christ. Forgive me if I am wrong, but Christ struck me as being the central cornerstone of salvation, the only means by which we may enter heaven. We can't do it on our own. Otherwise, why did He come to earth?
Context: an IM conversation about whether language surrounding the body is coarse. In other words, are Christians too prudish? Here we are trying to find some original Greek in order to interpret Eph. 5:4. Screennames have been deleted to protect the innocent from spam, but the co-author of this conversation can be found at VanderHart (see sidebar for link)....
Me (10:37:49 PM): there is a strong's concordance online, too....
LV (10:38:37 PM): Yes... but to be honest, I find it more enlightening to use a secular greek translation. See, the people who make concordances and translate the bible are usually christians with very fixed theological views about what it said already...
LV (10:38:40 PM): Not to say they do a bad job.
LV (10:38:50 PM): But I find it more interesting to use a more objective dictionary.
Me (10:39:16 PM): more objective???? What kind of flaming Modernist are you????????
LV (10:39:42 PM): About 6'2", male, blue eyes, likes philosophy...
Me(10:39:49 PM): haha.
Me (10:40:12 PM): Don't play type/token confusion games with me, sir.
LV (10:40:25 PM): ok
LV (10:40:29 PM): I'll try not to.
Well, maybe it was more funny at 10:40PM. However, the context surrounding this segment raises some valuable points. So what is the verdict? How do we fit Eph. 5:4 in with a healthy theology of the body? How do we remain pure without becoming prudes? (We never came to a conclusion, because first, we are both philosophers, and second, the Greek lexicon refused to unleash its secrets before sleepiness necessitated the termination of the discussion. Thus, I open the debate here.)
And to save you all a trip to BibleGateway, here is Eph. 5:4....
"Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving."
Reader's caveat: this entry is somewhat personal, but it is my way of clarifying the muddledness in my head. I'll probably delete the entry tomorrow. But you are welcome to read it while it's here.
Why do I let my heart attach itself to unattainable people? Wasted emotion, wasted time, where did a portion of my life go? Not to speak of the pain. Rationally, I realize that no basis for hope ever existed. But hope persists anyway. And I realize that I have limited my horizons: interest ceases in anyone else, unless he can superhumanly surpass the one who infuriatingly has my heart captive. And maybe not even then. For superhuman people intimidate me. I shrink from the Boy Scout. I am too small. [This is my way of controlling my world. Only imperfect people are allowed in. I call this grace, but really I fear the standard perfection would bring. I am imperfect, and would not wish to exclude myself from my own world.] Lazy, I stop striving for the heights. I scoff at Idealism. My way is Practical. I am removing the possibility of disappointment. But pain comes anyway, because imperfect people hurt others. He is his own person; he can choose whom he wants. Besides, he never knew I liked him. We were only friends. At one point in my life, I would have tried to change into what he wanted. I would have tried very hard if but futilely. But now I know that depression is the only dead end to that road. So I go my way. But not without a wistful regret. Why did I waste time hoping for him? Should I erase him from memory? Shall I strive for the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?
In the end, I must answer no. There were good qualities that made me like him. I cherish the joy those memories bring. Conversely, the pain taught me something. I cannot wish it undone. I would be different if I had not hurt. Somehow I would lose part of myself if I lost either the joy or the hurt. So I welcome the hurt. Is what I am, then, because of another human? One should hardly identity form this way: shouldn't we be shaped only by the Potter's hand? Well, His hand holds many tools. Sometimes those tools are even our own mistakes.
In the end, though, holding onto pain and joy might only be self-protection. Orienting my vision toward the future will remind me that I am not at the end of my identity forming path. Hope of an unshakably certain kind awaits.
"Kick off your moon boots, grab a quesa-dilluh, and discover a God who can truly make your wildest dreams come true. 24-piece devotional and survival set that's filled with life lessons from the surprise comedy of the year.
From the Family Christian Stores catalogue.
What next? Monty Python prayer guides? Napoleon Dynamite is one of my favorite movies, but this seems a bit much...
Why do Christians fear death? I know that I do. I tend to be reluctant to divulge this to anyone because [A] Christians have no reason to fear death (I Cor. 15:55-56) and [B] all the great Christian heroes of the faith were martyred, tortured, eaten by wild animals, left to waste away in prison--in other words, they faced deaths of the most horrid kind and bravely at that. So what have I to complain of?
In any of my bouts with depression, whether long or short, I have never been suicidal. No matter how badly I felt about life in general here, I was convinced that facing God and trying to explain myself would be an infinitely worse scenario. I was far from convinced I was a Christian--oh, I could fake it rather convincingly--but was I truly going to escape hell? Fear of hell probably gnawed my heart more than any other distress. I didn't feel all that particularly happy about dying and "being with Jesus;" instead, I was morbidly afraid that, come judgment day, I would realize too late that I had simply been faking the whole faith in Jesus thing...
I stuffed my worries aside and tried to move forward...till I realized something.
It's okay to be afraid of death...in other words, the presence of fear is not an automatic indication of a lack of faith. In fact, a lack of faith might be good for me, because it forces me to depend utterly on Someone Else. Not even a "but at least I believed hard enough," because I don't, most of the time.
So I have to stop trying to smooth talk my way into heaven. It hurts my pride. I want to think that somehow I had something to do with this salvation. But it brings me reassurance when I contemplate death: what reason will God have to let me into heaven? None. That's final. And yet every reason in the world, wrapped up in His Son.
I am resurrecting this post in order to get a fresh perspective on what I meant to do in the beginning. Now that I am more aesthetically pleased with the blog appearance, I believe I will be more motivated to actually keep my good intentions over here....
To counter an age of self-aggrandizement and personal fulfillment, I thought I'd add my own thoughts on self-decreasing and personal disappearing. But this advice isn't really mine after all. John the Baptist said it first: "He must become greater; I must become less." (John 3:30). C. S. Lewis also noted that "[t]he real test of being in the presence of God is, that you either forget about yourself all together or see yourself as a small, dirty object. It is better to forget about yourself all together." (Mere Christianity).
However, disappearing completely doesn't mean oblivion in some pantheistic "melting-into-the-void" kind of way. A person can rejoice in her accomplishments, her personality, her distinctness; she just has to remember that context in which to keep "everything in its right place." Perspective is maintained by relating everything to the One "in [whom] all things hold together." (Col. 1:17)
It is because ultimately all truth is held together in Christ that randomness can be enjoyed. Francis Schaeffer's How Shall We Then Live and Colin Gunton's The One, the Three, and the Many both emphasize the importance of having a metanarrative of absolute truth that will prevent chaos (extreme particularity that disintegrates into alienation) and yet maintains an appreciation of distinctness that prevents bland homogenuity and slavish legalism.
Thus, this blog will attempt to be a place where randomness and nonsense are enjoyed both for their distinct particularity and also for their ultimate coherant relatedness (albeit, a relation sometimes superimposed by me as I exercise a mild amount of creative dominion). Indeed, let all paradoxes find a warm welcome here. And because all truth is God's truth and not my own, I hope that this website brings Him glory as I continue to disappear in humorous appreciation or critical evaluation of all that passes under my eye.
Question: Are animals born with original sin? Do they continue to sin?
Animals can be held accountible for their actions: 5 And for your lifeblood I will surely demand an accounting. I will demand an accounting from every animal. And from each man, too, I will demand an accounting for the life of his fellow man. (Gen. 9:5)
Covenantally, all creation fell under Adam. Yet even on their own count, animals have wills that rebel just as much as people have wills that rebel. However, God has chosen to hold mankind responsible both for ushering sin into the world and then for redeeming the world from sin (through Christ the perfect Man first, later through His Holy Spirit working in us). So it's humanity that gives the ultimate accounting to God.
And, after working with our horse this morning, I am inclined to believe experientially that the answer is yes on both counts.
I'm not sure what to do about 4th of July sermons...I mean, America is NOT the New Jerusalem...at least, I sure hope not. I'd like to think that it gets better than this...
Also, why does no one remember Christian Europe? The only reason America had any Christian influence was because of the Christian Europeans who settled here. And yet Europe only receives brief mention as that "tyrannical country of injustice." I just think our history is slightly biased and cropped so as not to show the whole picture...
Anyway, all that to say that I would rather live in America than anywhere else, and I am truly grateful to