Rhetorical Response

Soren's Song (Switchfoot)

2009-01-22T23:20:00.001-05:00

"Sooner Or Later (Soren's Song)"

Come back and haunt me
Follow me home
Give me a motive
Swallow me whole

They say I've lost it
What could I know
When I'm but a mockery?
I'm so alone

Sooner of later you'll find out
There's a hole in the wall

Today is ours
Condemned to be free
Free to keep breathing
Free to believe

I look to find you
Down on my knees
Oh God, I believe!
Please help me believe

Sooner or later they'll find out
There's a hole in the wall
Sooner or later you'll find out
That you'll dream to be that small

I'm a believer, help me believe

I gave it all away and lost who I am
I threw it all away
With everything to gain
And I'm taking the leap
With dreams of shrinking
Yeah, dreams of shrinking

Kate Perry Faith

2009-01-22T21:19:00.001-05:00

Kate Perry’s “Hot and Cold” makes me feel like I’m shopping in Express. (This is not a good thing.) However, Kate has taught me a lot. For instance, I owe my new understanding the nature of loathing to her. Let it not be said that I withhold credit from those who deserve it.

For months, I happily put “Hot and Cold” in the category of “Trash” and either rolled my eyes or laughed snobbishly whenever I heard it. Now, I can still laugh, but it has to be humble and sheepish laughter. This is because, honestly, my faith is little more than a flimsy, Kate Perry “Hot and Cold” type of faith.

Cause you’re hot then you’re cold
You’re yes then you’re no
You’re in then you’re out
You’re up then you’re down
You’re wrong when it’s right
It’s black and it’s white
We fight, we break up
We kiss, we make up
(you) You don’t really want to stay, no
(but you) But you don’t really want to go-o

Ouch.

I think that almost sums up the strength of my commitment to Jesus right now. It’s one thing to read “ye of little faith” in the Bible and feel a slight stab of remorse, but it’s quite another to ridicule Kate Perry and then realize that she’s actually talking about you. Talk about humiliation. But, if that’s what it takes to wake me up, then bring it on. All truth is God’s truth, and even “Hot and Cold” can be a sanctification tool.

Clothing the Invisible Man

2008-12-18T18:22:00.000-05:00

Clothing the Invisible Man

Words are to thoughts what clothing is to the Invisible Man. They give invisible concepts shape and texture so that people can catch glimpses of ideas and ponder them. When clothed in words, thoughts become communicable. In one way or another, words seem to be responsible for the way humans understand every question of any importance at all. The assumption, then, is that words (or language) and truth are tied to one another. But are they really? Can words tell the truth about things? What about invisible things? What about God? Of what value is language to religious thought and experience?

All religions, as they use words to communicate, provide some way to understand the connection between language and truth. The question of language may be one of the most important questions a religion answers, possibly because religions themselves are Invisible Men which require words to make sense of them. Or perhaps the essence of religion lies in what cannot be verbalized.

In this essay, I will try (by making use of language, of course) to compare the Zen Buddhist and Christian positions on the relationship between words and truth. Are their views compatible? Are their understandings roughly the same or irreconcilably different? After describing the Zen and Christian understandings of this question, I will argue that despite extensive similarities, Zen and Christianity differ on essential points.

Continue Reading

It's Raining

2008-12-10T23:10:00.001-05:00

I just got back to my room after a few hours in the library. It’s been raining all afternoon, and I’ve scurried across campus like a half-drowned rat twice already. When I left the library just now I was grumbling to myself that I had to squelch my way through the rain yet again…my clothes were still damp from the previous walk, and I was a little mad about it not being cold enough to snow.

In that state of mind I started across O’Neill Plaza. After just a few steps, the St. Ignatius bell started ringing - it was five o’clock. The bell took me by surprise, and I looked up…

I suddenly realized that I was walking through a dark and stormy night. A real one. (Though, you must know that by “real” I mean something along the lines of “straight out of a story.”) Where was Miss Marple, or Dr. Watson, or Tintin, or any of the other immortal characters who haunt nights such as these? Surely there were banshees lurking about. At the very least a few gruff, trench-coated men pursuing some diabolical end must be about to round the corner of Gasson Hall.

Somehow, that bell transformed my understanding of the rain, the evening, and myself. I didn’t really expect Sherlock Holmes to turn up (though I’d be thrilled if he did), but I did remember that I am not merely one of ten-thousand students madly stuffing my brain with differentiation rules and Greek contract verbs. The walk from library to dorm is not just something that must be done so that I can check my email, change my shoes, and grab my flashcards before leaving again. These things are real enough, but equally (perhaps more?) real is the light mist softening the buildings and trees, drawing them close to one another. There is a magic in the wet branches as they narrow and darken into ebony twigs dripping silver raindrops onto the brick path.

“It’s a nice evening,” you say. “And you had a refreshing ten minute walk. What of it?”

The only way for a walk to be refreshing or for a moment to be meaningful is for it to refer to something greater than itself. This rainy evening in all its sogginess and mystery exists, and that fact begs the question, “Why?” Because the “why” is that God intentionally and lovingly created this very night, complete with rain and bells and fog, because every tree whispers some truth about him that goes all the way up to the heart of what reality is, I have a reason to treasure the water on my face and the cozy shining of the lampposts lining the road.

If the rain was a brute fact and nothing more, if it had no reference point, it if simply was (end of story), then it might still make me feel good, but any pleasure I derived from it would be merely a matter of chemicals, endorphins, and nerve endings. And if I was honest with myself about what that kind of pleasure really means, I would sink into despair as I contemplated this deconstructed definition of happiness.

The justification for loving the sting of raindrops and the sound of boots on pavement is that there is something behind them. The reason to shudder with delight, rather than grumble, at the prospect of a rainy walk is that God is real, the unifying principle of his universe is joy, and he is present in the way lamps shine through mist.

The bell is about to ring seven o’clock, and I’m about to go outside again, this time fully expecting to be shocked and transformed by what God has made on a rainy December night.

Dante & Apathy

2007-09-15T19:58:00.000-04:00

“I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth."
- Revelation 3:15-16

Theologically incorrect as Dante's Inferno can be, this passage is very thought-provoking:

The sighs, groans and laments were at first so loud
Resounding through starless air, I began to weep:
Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued

With rage or despair, cries as of the troubled sleep
Or of a tortured shrillness - they rose in a coil
Of tumult, along with noises like the slap

Of bearing hands, all fused in ceaseless flail
That churns and frenzies that dark and tinless air
Like sand in a whirlwind. And I, my head in a swirl

Or error, cried: Master, what is this I hear?
What people are these, whom pain has overcome?
He: This is the sorrowful state of souls unsure

Whose lives earned neither honor nor bad fame.
Now heaven expels them, not to mar its splendor
And Hell rejects them

Mercy and justice disdains them...

To me, this is not so much a picture of what happens to those who are apathetic and lack commitment after they die as it is a compelling portrait of the emotional and psychological state of people who "don't seem to care." If you've been overcome by pain, doesn't it seem natural to withdraw? To become dead to those things which could hurt you? And what is more sorrowful than to live in fear of what injury could be done to you if you were passionate and alive?

It's been said that the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. I'm so thankful for the compassion of God, because it is what brings us shrinking, cringing beings into abundant life.

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor,
and the day of vengeance of God;
to comfort all who mourn..."
- Isaiah 61:1-2

Lesser and Greater

2007-08-15T22:55:00.000-04:00

(So, I’m just a sporadic, non-committed blogger. In fact, I blog like I drink coffee…every once in a while. That’s good when we’re talking coffee, but not so good in this context. However, I am aiming for consistency. Inconsistently.)

This morning, there were ten minutes of the CFC conference opening program before my turn to speak. Since I’m in the middle of a novel about a little boy who sees God’s kingdom because he takes the time to meditate on God’s character, I decided to spend my ten minutes wisely. Sitting in the pew, I had this awesome prayer going…all about God’s sovereignty and total control, with elegant tangents about rest, trust, and faith. I was just about to move onto the righteousness of God, when I heard my name.

“…Karen Kovaka…was there, too…”

Devin, a teammate, was telling a story, of which I was a part.

In that split second, my entire focus was diverted from God’s name to my own name.

Dale Carnegie, in How to Win Friends and Influence People, says that the sweetest sound in the world to any given person is the sound of his or her own name. This is awfully close to the truth for me! When I hear my name, I look up, eager to know who is talking to, or about, me. Basically anything about me is interesting…to me, that is.

In the words of John the Baptist, however, “He must become greater. I must become less.” As interested as I am in my name, and in stories about me, I am called to be more interested in meditating on God’s many, precious names. It’s about being enthralled by stories about him. Rather, it’s about understanding that every story actually is about him…not about me.

Wouldn’t it be great to be so concerned with who God is that “I” is no longer a distraction to myself? My name wouldn’t tear me away from what is truly important.

He most become greater. I must become less.

More Kierkegaard

2007-07-20T10:12:00.001-04:00

I love, love, love this passage from Fear and Trembling:

If there were not eternal consciousness in a man, if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment, a power that twisting in dark passions produced everything great or inconsequential; if an unfathomable, insatiable emptiness lay hid beneath everything, what would life be but despair? If it were thus, if there were no sacred bond uniting mankind, if one generation rose up after another like the leaves of the forest, if one generation succeeded the other as the songs of birds on the woods, if the human race passed through the world as a ship through the sea or the wind through the desert, a thoughtless and fruitless whim, if an eternal oblivion always lurked hungrily for it prey and there were no power strong enough to wrest it from its clutches – how empty and devoid of comfort life would be! But for that reason, it is not so, and as God created man and woman, so too he shaped the hero and the poet or speech-maker.

No! No one shall be forgotten who was great in this world; but everyone was great in his own way, and everyone in proportion to the greatness of what he loved. For he who loved himself became great in himself, and he who loved others became great through his devotion, but he who loved God became greater than all. They shall all be remembered, but everyone became great in proportion to his expectancy. One became great through expecting the possible, another by expecting the eternal; but he who expected the impossible became greater than all. They shall all be remembered, but everyone was great in proportion to the magnitude of what he strove with. There was one who relied upon himself and gained everything, and one who, secure in his strength, sacrificed everything; but greater than all was the one who believed God.

Christian and Postmodern Communication

2007-06-29T10:39:00.001-04:00

This thought struck me several months ago when I was on tour with Communicators for Christ:

Postmodernism looks at the arrogance of modernism and says, “Impossible! The truth about reality is forever hidden from us. All we can do is tell stories.” There are no meta-narratives in postmodernism, and the most charismatic communicator determines truth.

Christians realize that they possess the truth; therefore, they communicate. The existence of truth provides a motivation to communicate. Acts 4:20: “…for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard.”

The one is the inversion of the other.

Postmodernism says, “We can communicate, therefore we determine truth.”

Christianity says, “We know the truth, therefore we communicate.”

Interesting, no?

Phantastes

2007-06-27T10:59:00.000-04:00

I experienced persecution in order to bring you the following post. You’d better appreciate it.

On Sunday, when I was helping some friends tear apart their kitchen so they could paint it, I found a beautiful copy of Phantastes by George MacDonald (CS Lewis’ inspiration). This is very exciting, because my public library is very short on MacDonald books, and I’ve always wanted to read more of his stories. Perhaps I should have contained my exuberance, because I’m afraid I made a fool of myself.

Karen: Devin! Devin! Listen to this quote – it’s sooooo good. I’m going to write it down, but let me read it to you first! “Perhaps, like a geologist, I was about to turn up to the light some buried strata of the human world with it’s fossil remains charred by passion and petrified by tears.” Charred by passion and petrified by tears? That’s incredible!

Devin: [Incredulously, and with a laugh that was far from reverent] He compared that to geology?

Miffed, I went downstairs to get my notebook, only to dash up the stairs again, this time to show my books to Nathan.

Karen: Nathan! Look – isn’t this pretty! My journal just happens to match the cover of Phantastes! They look so good together.

Nathan: [With a particularly devastating face that relied on a raised eyebrow for its effectiveness] What color are the roots of your hair again?

Granted, I was gushing, but still, MacDonald is kind of a big deal.

All that to say, I’ve passed through fire and floods to bring you these succulent morsels from the first couple of chapters.

“A spirit.
The undulating woods and silent well,
And rippling rivulet, and evening gloom,
Now deepending the dark shades, for speech assuming,
Held communion with him; as if he and it
Were all that was.”

~ Shelley’s Alastor

“”She…said, in a voice that strangely recalled a sensation of twilight, and reedy river banks, and a low wind…”

“that is always the way with you men; you believe nothing the first time; and it is foolish enough to let mere repetition convince you of what you consider in itself unbelievable.”

Profound, no?

I think this book is going to be wonderful.

Daniel 6

2007-06-25T21:19:00.000-04:00

This morning, I got completely lost in Daniel chapter 6. From the first verse onward, I felt like writing a paragraph in my journal for every sentence I read.

(Random, but related, interjection: This thought just came to me: maybe that’s why books like Calvins’s Institutes and Aquinas’ Summa Thelogica are so long. It takes a mammoth quantity of uninspired words to equal the inspired ones. You know, like a pound of feathers takes up far more space than a pound of steel. Our words are feathers; God’s words are titanium. Ha! That isn’t strictly true, but I still feel like Archimedes after his experiment with mass and displacement. Eureka!)

Anyway, back to Daniel.

The scope of what Daniel accomplished during his life is beyond what I can rationalize. It honestly seems impossible (and thus is a testament to God’s unmatchable power, of course). The first thing that shocks me is the fact that Daniel occupied positions that gave him power and influence under four different rulers: Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, Darius, and Cyrus. Considering that Darius killed Belshazzar when the Medes conquered the Chaldeans, Daniel’s survival and prosperity is even more surprising. How many men manage to achieve that kind of success? Few. How many honest men do? Fewer still. Sir Thomas More, also a wise, clever, and honest man, couldn’t even weather the vicissitudes that occurred during the reign of one king (King Henry VIII). Daniel, though he openly defied some of the most powerful men in the world, remained on top.

To compound an already unbelievable story, Daniel’s enemies couldn’t find a single deed in his entire personal and political record with which to reproach him. That’s completely different from being generally honest and trustworthy. It means no cutting corners, no bending rules, no rebellion against laws you don’t like. Daniel was blameless in a foreign land, despite an alien and sometimes repulsive culture. Not only that, Daniel was effective. How did he become the most respected civil servant in the kingdom without engaging in something disreputable? It’s more than my mind can understand.

I can’t get over how unbelievably encouraging all of this is. The sheer complexity of life can sometimes be awfully depressing. Politicians and diplomats, for example, have to make decisions and engage in negotiations that determine the fates of millions. There are so many competing concerns to weigh, so many impossible muddled conflicts and intentional deception. No matter how many good intentions, you can’t help but wonder if it’s impossible to make a right decision.

What this story shows is that, in the words of Elizabeth Elliot, “It is always possible to do the will of God. In every place and time it is within our power to acquiesce the will of God.” God always makes a way. How many times must it have seemed like there was no right answer to the problems Daniel faced? Not just the lions’ den-type problems, but the budget balancing and international relations problems the Bible doesn’t even mention. Somehow, God made it possible for Daniel to navigate every political mess he encountered and emerge from it with an enhanced reputation and spotless personal record. This cannot happen without the power of God, with his power, nothing is more natural.

If God could make his will clear to Daniel, he can make it clear to me, too. No person, problem, or conflict can prevent me from being capable of obedience. There’s absolutely no danger that there will be a time when there is no right decision for me to make. There’s no Gordian Knot God can’t guide my hands to untie, if he so chooses. The reality of God’s power means it is always possible to do his will.

This is highly motivating. If God gives me a challenge, I can do it! (Well, to be technically correct, he can enable me to do it.) There are no Catch-22's in God's kingdom. The impossible is suddenly deliciously attainable. Failure, like death, is dead.

By Amy Carmichael

2007-06-22T15:48:00.001-04:00

"From prayer that asks that I may be

Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,

From fearing when I should aspire,

From faltering when I should climb higher,

From all that dims Thy Calvary,

O Lamb of God, deliver me.

From subtle love of softening things

From easy choices, weakenings

(Not thus are spirits fortified,

Not this way went the Crucified)

From silken self, O Captain, free

Thy soldier who would follow Thee.

Give me the love that leads the way,

The faith that nothing can dismay,

The hope no disappointments tire,

The passion that will burn like fire -

Let me not sink to be a clod:

Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God."

Enjoy doing it badly?

2007-06-20T14:26:00.000-04:00

"If you can't learn to do it well, learn to enjoy doing it badly."
~ Ashleigh Brilliant

True?

False?

Somewhere in between?

Kierkegaard Was a Lucky Man

2007-06-13T10:59:00.000-04:00

(Well, he was lucky in some ways, at least.)

He had the first name "Soren," which, in two syllables, manages to express strength, wisdom, humor, and individuality, and possesses connotations of Nordic mythology and adventure. What a name!

He also wrote this:

"There was one who was great in his strength, and one who was great in his wisdom, and one who was great in in love; but greater than all was Abraham, great with that power whose strength is powerlessness, great in that wisdom whose secret is folly, great in that hope whose outward form is insanity, great in that love which is hatred of self."

~ Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling

iNeed

2007-06-13T00:39:00.000-04:00

Need: a condition or situation in which something is required or wanted

I have heard, and used, the word “need” many times in the last week.

“I love you. I need you.”

“I needed you with me this week.”

“I have a need to feel useful.”

“We need to stop for gas.”

“I need you to call me when you arrive.”

“You need to learn how to parallel park.”

It suddenly occurred to me how ambiguous the word “need” is. On the surface, it seems to mean, “I have to have _______.” However, the natural response to that sort of statement is, “Or what?” because there are actually very few things that we have to have, though we frequently use the word “need” It’s at that point that “need” becomes an ambiguous concept.

The essence of a need is, I think, that there is some kind of consequence if the object of need is not attained. Possible consequences of unfulfilled needs include failure, unhappiness, frustration, changes in plan, and anxiety. Or, to put it another way, unmet needs cause a person to enter some kind of undesirable state. Ultimately, using the word “need” means creating an “if…then” statement.

“If I don’t receive this _____________ (object, being, circumstance), then [something bad].”

Four of the most common consequences, or “bad things,” are as follows:

1. I will have to adjust my goals, expectations, or methods
2. I won’t be as effective
3. I won’t be happy
4. I won’t survive

Obviously, some needs are legitimate, while others are not. Some are justified; others are unreasonable, selfish, and sinful. How do we judge which needs we ought to consider and meet, and which needs we ought to disregard?

It seems like there are two categories of consequences. In the first category are consequences that are completely factual and out of the control of the person who identifies the need. These are objective consequences of unmet needs.

Examples:

- Not having the benefit of assistance will lead to a decrease in productivity and effectiveness.

- Not learning how to parallel park will force me to adjust my expectations about passing the driver’s test.

- Not drinking water will kill me.

Outside of these objective consequences, though, are subjective consequences of unmet needs. These consequences are within the control of the person who expresses the need. In other words, there is an extent to which the person who is in need can manage the severity of the consequence.

Examples:

- Not being able to spend time with a friend will cause unhappiness.

- Not feeling useful will result in a state of discontent and insecurity.

In these situations, the word “need” identifies a prerequisite to happiness. “Unless I get what I want, I will not be happy/content/at peace.” These kinds of subjective needs reveal our core values and deeply rooted principles. They can also reveal substantial inconsistencies in our beliefs. Christians, after all, profess to believe that Christ is all in all, the one thing needful.

Luke 10:41-42: “But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

Philippians 3:8: “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.”

Despite these beliefs, it’s easy to live as though our subjective needs have the power to deprive us of happiness when they are not met. Not only is this a needless (ha!) form of bondage, it is also sin. If, by saying we “need” something, we mean we “won’t be happy” without a certain object, being, or circumstance, we are sinning. So, needs (outside of Christ) which claim to be essential to happiness and inner peace are illegitimate needs. Accepting that the consequences of these needs are legitimate is tantamount to denying the power of Christ in our lives.

Before this week, I don’t know if I’ve ever thought about my use of the word “need.” I use it all the time, and lightly, which isn’t a problem, but I also let little desires deceitfully claim that they are actually big needs which threaten my happiness. In actuality, there is no need that great which Christ has not already met. Whenever I, through thinking about my “needs,” equate my happiness with something other than Christ, I am casting doubt on the sufficiency of the gospel and the sustaining power of God. I’m sad that little, petty needs cause me to act against what I know is true.

However, I’m also inspired about living the grand and beautiful consistency of Christianity. Practically, that means refusing to believe that any need is so great that it has the potential to take my happiness from me. It’s time for me to evaluate what I truly mean when I claim that I am in need of anything.

Grade Your Life

2007-06-09T11:20:00.000-04:00

I found this online recently. It speaks for itself, but there is a little bit of commentary below.

(Oh, and I, apparently, have a “C” in life. It must be there’s no hope of happiness until I have a hot tub in my yard…or a boyfriend)

[ ] You have a boyfriend/girlfriend.
[ ] You have your own room.
[ ] You own your own cell phone.
[ ] You have an mp3 player/ipod/walkman.
[ ] Your parents are still married.
[ ] You love your family
[ ] There is a pool/spa in your backyard
T0TAL:

[ ] You dress the way you want to.
[ ] There is a computer/ laptop in your room.
[ ] You are allowed to listen to the music you want to.
[ ] Your room is big enough for you
[ ] People don't use YOU
[ ] You have been to the movies.
T0TAL SO FAR:

[ ] You have over 100 friends on myspace
[ ] You have pictures on myspace.
[ ] Your parents let you have a myspace
[ ] You get allowance.
[ ] You collect something normal
[ ] You look forward to going to college
[ ] You don't wish you were someone else.
[ ] You play a sport.
[ ] You play an instrument
T0TAL SO FAR :

[ ] You usually don't fight with your parent(s).
[ ] You are usually happy with your appearance
[ ] You have never gotten a failing grade on a report card in your life
[ ] You have friends

T0TAL SO FAR:
[ ] You know what is going on in the world.
[ ] You are happy with your life right now.
[ ] You usually aren't sick.
[ ] You know more than one language
[ ] You have a screen name.
[ ] You own a pet.
[ ] You know the words to more than 5 songs.
[ ] You don't have any enemies
TOTAL SO FAR:

Total over all:
Multiply it by 3 =

90-100%: A
80-89%: B
70-79%: C
60-69%: D
00-59%: F

Now for the commentary:

This is obviously a shallow, self-centered, and foolish way to evaluate life, but the fact that a lot of people actually think like this is just profoundly sad.

What a waste to invest all of your energy into obtaining the circumstances and objects you think will make you happy, only to discover that an “A” in life is utter emptiness. It may be a similar to getting an amazing SAT score, only to realize that the SAT has little or no bearing on whether or not you have developed the life skills you need to succeed.

Think of the anger, the despair, and the sense of betrayal of discovering that everything you believed was valuable was based on a lie. Think of the pain of knowing (all too well) that you’ve wasted years of your life, but not knowing how to adjust your system of values. What if, upon discovering how meaningless the objects and circumstances truly are, you never learned about what is meaningful?

People need to learn, from deeply compassionate and sincere mouths and lives, that they don’t need to score their own lives based on iPods, song lyrics, and satisfaction with personal appearance.

“Don’t waste your life trying to look good. Spend it making God look good.”
~ John Piper

Adjustment of Perspective

2007-06-07T18:50:00.000-04:00

We can be disgusted by the oddities of other cultures (and subcultures), or we can choose to be delighted by their eccentricities. Foibles can be annoying, or endearing, depending on your perspective.

This all became much clearer to me when my mom found a sinfully amazing sale at our local Dillards store. For three days, she came home with $44 sweatshirts and $30 collared button-downs for $2 and $3 each. Unfortunately, the sale was all children’s clothing, so I didn’t benefit directly from the abundance, but I was happy for my little brothers. Actually, I probably cared more about the new clothes than they did. At 11 and 13, they’re into snakes, not sweatshirts.

Or, at least, that’s how it used to be. My mom found some Echo brand hoodies and brought them home. Apparently Echo clothing is “sort of a big deal. People know it.” (Now, so do I!) In my opinion, these particular hoodies are gruesome. They’re coal black, with a screen-printed rhinoceros across the chest. The rhinoceros is surrounded by a field of red, and little red splotches are artistically scattered across the black cotton front of the hoodie.

I took one look at this piece of clothing and screamed, “It’s a bloody rhinoceros! Ewww!” (I used bloody in the literal sense…) My youngest brother told me it wasn’t blood, just red paint. I remain unconvinced. Anyway, he put on the sweatshirt, pulled the hood down low over his eyes, and started creeping around the house. With the sable hood, he looked exactly like the Death Angel of Rhinoceroses, if such a thing exists. May you all be spared from any similar vision.

This whole episode generated some thoughts. I’m sure my definite opinions about the sleeves on sweaters are just as arbitrary and strange to my brothers as their love for a bloody rhinoceros is to me. And yet, if I just adjust my perspective a little bit, I can understand – not agree, empathize, but understand – why they love what they love.

I think Charles Dickens would agree with me. I just finished Great Expectations, a classic rags-to-riches story, with several morbid twists. One of those stories which make you wonder, “Did it really have to be this long?” Great Expectations is full of subplots and unlikely side characters.

One such character is the convict Magwitch, who makes many appearances throughout the novel. Each time Magwitch reappears, the main character, Pip, forms a new opinion about him. Thus, the reader’s perspective about Magwitch is constantly in flux, depending on Pip’s own point of view.

Magwitch enters Great Expectations when Pip is a young boy. A half-starved escaped convict, he terrorizes Pip into stealing and bringing back to him some food and a metal file. At this point, Magwitch is fearsome, cruel, and larger-than-life.

After a disappearance that lasts many years, Magwitch unexpectedly seeks out Pip in his home. The intervening years have transformed Pip from a poor orphan to a gentleman of fortune, and Magwitch reveals that he himself is responsible for Pip’s change in circumstance. Apparently, Pip’s generosity toward Magwitch touched the grizzled convict, and ever since the day the two met, Magwitch has labored to make a fortune so that he can bestow it upon Pip. This news horrifies Pip. He sees Magwitch as frightening, course, ill-mannered, and criminal. Yet, Pip is also dependent upon him.

Eventually, Magwitch is tried for another crime, and sentenced to death, but by this point, Pip has come to love the man who is behind his “great expectations.” The reader now sees Magwitch as loyal, brave, and good-hearted.

So, the question is, at what point, if ever, do we see Magwitch truly? Is there a time when Pip’s analysis of the convict’s character is objective and trustworthy? Or do we have to discover the truth by synthesizing Pip’s various opinions throughout the story? Regardless of the answer to the question, the point is clear: the role of perspective is vital.

Perhaps the conclusion seems tired and threadbare. We know the kind of influence perspective has on our thinking. It may be, though, that our knowledge of this truth is part of the problem. Something so obvious as “perspective is vital” can be difficult to apply, simply because we’ve heard it so many times that we’ve lost our sense of its profundity.

In the abstract, it’s easy to introduce a phrase like “perspective is everything, you know,” into a debate or discussion, but in the midst of a situation in which perspective truly is everything, it’s all of a sudden quite difficult to connect what we believe about perspective to our actions.

It can be helpful to see old truths illustrated in novel ways. This week, Magwitch and the rhinoceros hoodie helped me to realize anew the role perspective plays in cultures, families, and conflicts. I’m sure there are deeper levels to this topic, too. Let me know what additional thoughts you may have.

Speech Notes

2007-06-05T12:27:00.000-04:00

My notes for a speech I gave last night at a new homeschoolers meeting:

Introduction:

This speech my “first official act as a high school graduate”; finished my last two tests on Saturday, didn’t do much of anything on Sunday, and am here on Monday evening! Very appropriate somehow…

Like to talk a minute about those tests. Spent last semester of school studying for college credit, so had to take tests. Very different kind of learning experience for me.

Used to studying for maturity, for using knowledge in future; always understood the “why” and how what I was learning fit into the larger picture of my life. This kind of studying was (in the short term, at least) studying for a certain number, certain score on test. Very hard to care about this.

“Why am I coloring in yet more bubbles?? WHY?”

Would not have thrived in institutional school. Broke rules last three times went to test center. (Specific story: “You need to pray in your head from now on!”)

These experiences helped me see stark contrast between two approaches to education, and to more clearly understand why homeschooling was such a categorically good thing for me

I. Learning for the purpose of maturity

Foundation: God’s sovereignty and goodness; it is possible to enjoy and love learning when submitted to God

Process: Discover God-given passions; study and develop natural loves and abilities; understand the purpose and significance of school

End: Self-motivated, passionate students who use what they learn to serve and glorify God

Result: Strength of character, integrity, and ability

ð Caveat – does not imply absence of standard; I had to study chemistry, regardless of how I “felt” about it

My opportunities: speech/debate competition, founder/leader of service club, national travel, published author, valuable work experience, involvement in causes I love, free trips around country

II. Institutional learning

(Speaking not from personal experience, but from research)

In contrast to learning for the purpose of maturity, emphasis is on rules (without rationale), containment, fitting in with peers, passing tests, not causing trouble, not standing out

No conception of God’s goodness and the joy of learning; no emphasis on the glory of God at the core of learning

Quote: “Why is there so much emphasis on teaching young people to endure hour after hour of boring, disjointed and generally uninteresting activity? Why is schooling such a deadening experience for so many, even in high school and college? Is it possible that the main objective of our school system, with its passion for responding to school bells, blindly following instructions, and fitting in to the social pecking order, is not academic at all, but rather preparation for the labor force? Could this be the education of pawns? John Taylor Gatto, former New York City and New York State Teacher of the Year, believes it to be so.” (Gregg Harris, The Christian Home School, Noble Institute)

Even the most well-intentioned educators cannot accomplish learning for the purpose of maturity in an institutional setting because of lack of time, knowledge of and relationships with students, sufficient numbers of staff members, etc.

III. Impact of learning for the purpose of maturity

“Out of 100 people today, surveys show that only 67 are likely to have defined goals, goals they can explain. Of those who do, only 10 have made realistic plans to accomplish their goals. And of those 10, only two have the self-discipline to follow through with their plans and actually succeed. In other words, 98% of all the people you meet each day lack the integrity to live out what they believe.” (Gregg Harris, Cut Me Some Slack! The Sin of Procrastination, Noble Institute)

Is it any wonder that this is the case when the vast majority of children do not receive education for the purpose of maturity? Become adults unprepared to live in this way.

What you want for your children is for them to be able to know what is meaningful, to be able to pursue it realistically, and for them to achieve it.

Conclusion:

Purpose of education: “Rise up, O men of God! Have done with lesser things; Give heart and soul and mind and strength to serve the King of Kings.”

HEART: Embraces God’s Purpose
SOUL: Sets Passionate Goals
MIND: Makes Informed Plans
STRENGTH: Takes Forceful Action

Nothing Serious

2007-06-02T23:58:00.000-04:00

How I know I've taken too many standardized tests lately:

Today was the end. The last two SAT II's in a string of AP's and SAT's.

As I finished up the first test, I spent a few seconds starting at my nicely number-2 penciled-in answer-bubbles. All of a sudden, these darkened circles, otherwise without form and void, took on shape and meaning. They converged and glided across the sickly green-colored answer sheet.

Next thing I knew, they had formed a face. It was a face I would know anywhere, one that was impossible to mistake. The webbed face and arachnidan eyes were what gave him away. It was the face of...SPIDERMAN!

Truly. It was.

I was intrigued. After all, God is sovereign, right? Everything is meaningful, right? So...perhaps there was something significant going on. I turned the answer sheet over. If I squinted at it, I seemed to be able to make out the number 1325 formed by my neatly filled in circles.

1325! "Maybe some earth-shifting even took place in 1325!" I thought. "Maybe some distant being has opened up a time-space portal and is trying to communicate with me across the centuries! When I get home, I'm going to have to google this number and find out what's going on."

Well, I did google it. As it turns out, 1325 was not a particularly amazing year. Alfonso IV did become the King of Portugal, and a French philosopher, with whom I am not familiar, was born. A saint of the Sufi sect of the Islamic religion died, as well. Other than that...the Delhi Sultanate experienced a bit of a change in political leadership. And that's about it for 1325.

Oh well. At least I tried.

I must say, though - I'm glad that chapter of my life ended before I became too much like John Nash, from A Beautiful Mind.

--

I tried, and failed, to link the above to something serious. It's ok, though. I'll use it as a not-s0-subtle segue into my recent thoughts about desires, rewards, and challenges.

A Love Letter and Toothbrush

2007-05-31T20:56:00.000-04:00

“The whole world is a love letter from God…See the sunrise not as a mindless, mechanical necessity but as God’s smile. See a wave not just as tons of cold salt water crashing down on the shore but as God’s playful action. See even death not just as a biological necessity but as God tucking us in at bedtime so that we can rise to a new life in the morning.”

~ The God Who Loves You, Peter Kreeft

Today, one of the paragraphs in my love letter had to do with a blue plastic toothbrush and our living room’s baseboards. (Very romantic, I assure you.)

This morning, I awoke, rather groggily, from a much needed sleep. I was still recovering from the [insert positive superlative, such as “incredible,” of your choice here] New Attitude conference, which had ended on Tuesday afternoon. As I clenched the bathroom counter and “assessed the damage” the night had wreaked on my face, I remembered something horrible. In the excitement and chaos of getting ready to leave the conference, I had left my toothbrush at a friend’s house, some thirty minutes away from my own home.

Said toothbrush would be impossible for me to access until the afternoon.

Faced with this catastrophe, I had to choose between two equally disgusting and unhygienic options: 1) don’t brush my teeth until the afternoon, or 2) use someone else’s toothbrush. I’m not going to disclose which option I chose, because either one merits condemnation.

Suffice it to say that, later in the day, I was still dealing with feelings of “dental inferiority.” Maybe that’s why I couldn’t make myself scrub the baseboards in sweatpants…But I’m getting ahead of myself.

By mid-afternoon, I had done as much computer work as I could handle, so I decided to change the pace and do some sweeping, scrubbing, and mopping. However, as my broom and I cut the rug to David Crowder’s Collision CD, I began to feel that something was very much amiss. Somehow, it didn’t feel right to be cleaning house in my sweatpants, despite their huggable softness and elegant grey-ness. No. There was no way I could continue in my present attire. I definitely needed a skirt in order to finish this task. (I would’ve put on lipstick, too, but that didn’t seem like a particularly toothsome prospect - pun most emphatically intended.)

So it was that I found myself washing the baseboards in a skirt, and wondering why I thought that it was a job suited to A-line floral prints. Since we have a lot of baseboards, I had plenty of time to wonder. This is what I came up with:

Ideological change never takes place in a vacuum. (Get it? Get it?) Evangelizing and asking people to change their ways of thinking entails, in many ways, asking them to shift their cultural foundations, as well. Choosing to believe new things requires people to change certain patterns in their lives: to stop spending so much time with certain friends, to visit the bar less frequently, to not watch the same movies, etc.

But, we can’t just tell new Christians to stop doing things. We must be able to offer something to replace the old culture. Our goal should be to develop an alternative culture, one that pursues excellence for the sake of God’s glory. There is a desperate need for a vibrant counter-culture that springs directly from the principles of the Christian worldview.

Many of us do live in homes that take the idea of developing “cultural capital” seriously. I know I do, but I rarely remember how significant this is. I’m more likely to shake my head (fondly) at how “weird” my family is, than to rejoice in the cultural traditions we’ve developed. However, it’s the people who take the time to create cultural capital that contribute the most to consistent and concrete expressions of the principles of Christianity.

I love the implications of this idea. This means that baking bread and scrubbing baseboards are directly linked to great philosophical battlegrounds. Homemaking and philosophy are not opposed – they are complimentary. No longer must we struggle to find meaning in the mundane moments of life. All we have to do is tap into the immense flow of meaning latent in every second.

It was in honor of this beautiful truth that I wore a skirt while sweeping and scrubbing.

After all, there is a hidden nobility in cleaning a house, in coining a phrase, in making a joke, in playing a piano, and in picking strawberries…

…and, as I’ve recently discovered, in recovering truant toothbrushes.

when your daughters cry

2007-05-30T22:07:00.000-04:00

A poem, written by my best friend. Can you guess what it's about?

when your daughters cry

What is that dew that I see on your cheek?
Why are you turning to hide it from me?
Be bold for tomorrow…to face another year.
I’m naming this sorrow. I’ll call that a tear.

You hide from the beauty that once was your own.
And shrink from the love that your heart has once known.
You’ve changed in a way that I don’t understand.
You’re lost in a world that I cannot command.

And I don’t know why, so I’ll let you cry.
Little girl.

Cry, cry for the pain that you feel.
As the choice that you made becomes bitterly real.
What have you done? What have you lost?
Did you realize what freedom was going to cost?
Little girl.

You say that you understand innocence now.
But this life is lived by the sweat of our brow.
My rough hands can smooth away tears on your face
But your heart is not healed when you’re in my embrace.

And I don’t know why, so I’ll let you cry.
Little girl.

Cry, cry for the pain that you feel.
As the choice that you made becomes bitterly real.
What have you done? What have you lost?
Did you realize what freedom was going to cost?
Little girl.

And I don’t know why, so I’ll let you cry.
Little girl.

When your daughters cry, only you will know why.
You will know why.

Father Brown

2007-05-16T22:48:00.000-04:00

From The Wisdom of Father Brown, GK Chesterton:

"'I know the Unknown God,' said the little priest, with an unconscious grandeur of certitude that stood up like a granite tower. 'I know his named; it is Satan. The true God was made flesh and dwelt among us. And I say to you, wherever you find men ruled merely by mystery, it is the mystery of iniquity. If the devil tells you something is too fearful to look at, look at it. If he says something is too terrible to hear, hear it. If you think some truth unbearable, bear it.'"

"Biblical" Theology #1

2007-05-14T23:01:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I have these wildly satirical thoughts that highlight bad theology in unconventional ways. I think of it as the essence of tongue in cheek.

You know that quote, "Work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching"?

Well, today, I was in the kitchen, dancing like no one was watching, because no one actually was watching. I thought, "I don't mind looking stupid if no one sees me."

But then, I realized that God was watching me. He was watching me look dumb. And...I bet he was laughing at me. I got really indignant. After all, here's God, Supreme Being of the universe, who never looks stupid, laughing at me.

So, I don't think I can ever dance with abandon again. Because God would see me and laugh. If there's anything I don't want to do, it's make a fool of myself in front of God.

How depressing is that?

Sir Thomas More

2007-05-12T13:31:00.000-04:00

I am speaking of the literary character, not the historical character. Historically, Sir Thomas More, like most famous men, has a mixed record. However, in the play (and later, academy award-winning film) A Man for All Seasons, he is delightfully and objectively good, the stuff heroes are made of.

More is a devout man, a loving father, a successful and just lawyer, an intelligent and witty man, and a person with many friends. He has, in Henry VIII’s England, managed to become successful, popular, and respected, yet he is also a man of conscience, who refuses to compromise.

One of More’s most distinguishing characteristics is his cleverness. He always manages to navigate tense, complicated political situations without losing his head (literally – its’ a very real possibility) or his integrity. Somehow, he always finds a way to do the right thing.

More: God made the angels to show Him splendor, as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man He made to serve Him wittily, in the tangle of his mind. If He suffers us to come to such a case that there is no escaping, then we may stand to our tackle as best we can, and, yes, Meg, then we can clamor like champions, if we have the spittle for it. But it's God's part, not our own, to bring ourselves to such a pass. Our natural business lies in escaping.

For all his wiliness, More is also dedicated to the law, and to his conscience.

More: Well . . . I believe, when statesmen forsake their own private conscience for the sake of their public duties . . . they lead their country by a short route to chaos.

Roper: So, now you give the Devil the benefit of law!

More: Yes! What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get after the Devil?

Roper: Yes, I'd cut down every law in England to do that!

More: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned 'round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, from coast to coast, Man's laws, not God's! And if you cut them down, and you're just the man to do it, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I'd give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety's sake!

Eventually, Sir Thomas More comes to a “case that there is no escaping.” At this point, he decides to “stick to…[his] tackle,” The reason is that he is afraid of the consequences of compromising his conscience. More has compromised everything else, but he cannot betray his conscience, because then he would lose the last part of himself…and perhaps never find it again.

More: I neither could nor would rule my King. But there’s a little . . . little, area . . . where I must rule myself. It’s very little—less to him than a tennis court.

…Some men think the Earth is round, other think it flat; it is a matter capable of question. But if it is flat, will the King's command make it round? And if it is round, will the King's command flatten it? No, I will not sign.

More is an amazing character because he is neither cowardly nor rash. He does everything possible to avoid confrontation, because he wants to live peacefully and happily. He is not the sort to sacrifice when he doesn’t have to. Yet, he is actually one of the most iron-willed and uncompromising characters in all of literature. When asked to give away what he truly wants to keep, nothing can convince him to change his mind.

I see so much room for practical application in the story of Sir Thomas More (at least…in the fictional story; perhaps not the true one). His discernment is unparalleled, and his moral compass seemingly infallible. He is, most definitely, a hero.

Christian Social Responsibility

2007-05-09T18:15:00.000-04:00

From the Preface to The Fabric of Faithfulness, by Steven Garber:

That evening, in the company of twenty-five young Chinese ex-patriots, I had reflected on a question that has become the core of my own calling, name, why is it, in the face of situations that seem too complex, too broken, that human beings sometimes still choose to enter in – knowing that they will suffer, knowing that it will cost them – that for love’s sake they still choose responsibility?

This was my second time meeting with a group like this; a year earlier I had been asked by a noted China specialist to spend an evening with “the Havels of China,” as she described them. They were the intellectual leaders of the Tiananmen Square generation, a diaspora, scattered across North America - from Vancouver to Boston. Not allowed to return because of the public character of their protest, some were working in journalism and business while others were studying in relevant disciplines that would enable them someday to return to China. One of the gave me his card, which included all of the needed information, with these words in italics on the bottom: China for the 21st-century. Since Tiananmen, he had already finished a first Ph.D. at UC Berkeley, and was working on a second at Harvard.

As I sat there listening to their stories, I was overwhelmed. On the one hand, they had suffered so much. The depth of their sadness ate away at my heart. But at the same time, the seriousness of the desire to return home, and its motivation, was amazing. They simply said: “We love China – and we want to go home and be part of the rebuilding of our culture.” I heard that again and again.

But they had a question that had brought them to Washington: “We have been reading the philosophers of the world, and are not satisfied. We want to return to China, and know that we might be imprisoned or die if we do. But we love China, and so we will go home. The more we read it seems to us that the Christian vision of human nature and history might give us a basis to return, a raison d’etre that makes sense to us philosophically – what do you think?

Nothing cheap could be said.

Having known personal and political heartache, and knowing that any honest account of the present and future implicated them more, they had found in their faith a way forward. For the sake of love – in imitation of Christ – they could suffer, even as they acted responsibly in and for history, hoping for the way the world ought to be.

The Fabric of Faithfulness is a wonderful book. Its main premise is an exploration of how Christians can successfully weave together belief and behavior. Related to that premise is the idea presented in the above passage. According to Steven Garber, Christianity presents a very real social challenge. Being a Christian means, in part, feeling and acting upon a deep conviction that we ought to be working to make the world a better place.

If this is true, then I think it follows that Christians need to live their individual lives in a way that also fits into a broad context of social activism and change. Both individually and collectively, Christians are called to further God’s vision for the way the world ought to be.

The question that I’m still pondering is, to what degree does the Bible mandate Christian social involvement and responsibility?

PG Wodehouse

2007-05-07T16:32:00.000-04:00

If you've never read anything by PG Wodehouse, you should. He's amazing. That is all.

“Sorry I’m late. I got entangled in some particularly adhesive spaghetti and have only just succeeded in hacking my way to safety. Anything sensational happen in my absence?”

“I suffer from indigestion.”

Monty was aware of this, and the knowledge had always given him pleasure, though his gratification would have been increased if the malady had been bubonic plague.

“Butterwick,” I said, “you have maligned a splendid young man whom I love like a son. Go into the silence, Butterwick, I’m not speaking to you. I wouldn’t speak to you if your shirt was on fire. I regard you as a louse of the first water, and I hope that on your way back to West Dulwich you get run over by an omnibus.”

“…they’re Japanese cultured.”
“Japanese cultured?”
“They are phonies.”
“Phonies?”
“Fakes.”
“Fakes?”
“Make up your mind, Bodkin, whether you are a man or an echo in the Swiss mountains.”

Too Easily Pleased

2007-05-04T14:28:00.000-04:00

“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!'' cried Elizabeth. ``That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh.''

“I have faults enough…My temper would perhaps be called resentful. -- My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.''

``That is a failing indeed!'' – cried Elizabeth. ``Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. -- I really cannot laugh at it; you are safe from me.''
~ Pride and Prejudice

“I cannot laugh at it.” In this context, it’s clear that not laughing at something can be a virtue. It makes sense. Sometimes, we ought to refrain from laughter, not because we have defective, puritanical (in the popular sense of the word) senses of humor, but because we better serve the cause of merriment by refusing to allow humor to be cheapened and demeaned by inappropriate material.

How freeing. Who hasn’t experienced the awkwardness of not being sure whether or laughter is the appropriate response to a joke, comment, or conversation that is, admittedly, funny, but not necessarily edifying? No one wants to be the dour, cheerless, legalist, but we know that there are times when laughter is not the right way to respond. The idea that sometimes we better uphold humor by not laughing can help us escape this dilemma.

CS Lewis writes that “we are far too easily pleased.” I think this is especially true when it comes to laughter. Like Elizabeth Bennett, we “dearly love a laugh.” We should love to laugh. It’s a gift, a joy, a way to bond and connect with others, a means of expressing creativity and delight. The challenge is to laugh with discernment. But how? I really don’t know, but I have recently had a few thoughts.

First, there is a “cheap” sort of laughter, which demeans the subject. I don’t mean teasing, or making fun, because so often, this kind of humor is based on a foundation of great respect (think Star Wars fans making parodies of the movies, or best friends who love to laugh at one another). Often, laughter exalts its subject by deeming it worthy of notice, but this “cheap” laughter is a different thing entirely.

From The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand:

"It must have been spring," said Toohey. "It usually is. There's always a dark movie theater, and two people lost to the world, their hands clasped together-but hands do perspire when held too long, don't they? Still, it's beautiful to be in love. The sweetest story ever told-and the tritest. Don't turn away like that, Catherine. We must never allow ourselves to lose our sense of humor."

Here, Ellsworth Toohey nearly succeeds in destroying his niece Catherine’s romance by laughing at it. He claims that never losing “our sense of humor” is a virtue, but clearly, this sort of humor, which reduces what is beautiful and sacred to something trite and shallow, is anything but virtuous. I think that we are too good for this – such “laughter” is hardly worthy of the name.

Francis Schaeffer, in The God Who Is There, makes an interesting point along these lines:

"[Modern art is] the expression of men who are struggling with their appalling lostness. Dare we laugh at such things? Dare we feel superior when we view their tortured expressions in their art? Christians should stop laughing and take such men seriously. Then we shall have the right to speak again to our generation."

The kind of laughter which takes an issue of tragic and profound importance and mocks it can indicate a lack of compassion. When we, through laughter, reduce some colossal expression of belief (be it philosophical or artistic) to the level of the ridiculous, we should not be surprised if we lose the respect of others. In these situations, we should consider the standard provided in Ephesians 5:4: “Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.”

However…

“This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously – no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.”

~ “The Weight of Glory,” CS Lewis

There is laughter that is at once solemn, noble, and glorious. It’s golden, and rich, and intelligent. It is powerful. It can catch us unawares and incapacitate us. It encompasses all the styles of humor – from slapstick to satire, and everything in between. We’ve all heard laughter described as musical. This laughter truly is.

From Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand:

“She closed her eyes. She heard him laughing; it was the gayest sound in the world. She opened her eyes hastily, but there was no hint of cruelty in his face, only pure laughter.

’My motive, Dagny? You don't think that it's the simplest one of all - the spur of the moment?’

No, she thought, no, that's not true; not if he laughed like that, not if he looked as he did. The capacity for unclouded enjoyment, she thought, does not belong to irresponsible fools; an inviolate peace of spirit is not the achievement of the drifter; to be able to laugh like that is the end result of the most profound, most solemn thinking.”

So, I propose that we become connoisseurs of laughter. Not the connoisseurs who turn up their noses at everything, but the type who tirelessly search for excellence, and who refuse to settle for anything less. In the past, we have been too easily pleased, but no longer.

One more thing: I see laughter and music as linked in some way, so while this final quote is about music, much of what it says applies to laughter, so I’m including it in this post. (Also because it just happens to be beautifully written, and I want to.)

From Atlas Shrugged:

“The music of [his] Fifth Concerto streamed from his keyboard, past the glass of the window, and spread through the air, over the lights of the valley. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that had ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading open. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean and left nothing buy the joy of an unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had had to be. It was the song of an immense deliverance."

Ayn Rand on Laughter

2007-05-02T16:07:00.000-04:00

One of many memorable quotes from Atlas Shrugged:

She closed her eyes. She heard him laughing; it was the gayest sound in the world. She opened her eyes hastily, but there was no hint of cruelty in his face, only pure laughter.

"My motive, Dagny? You don't think that it's the simplest one of all - the spur of the moment?"

No, she thought, no, that's not true; not if he laughed like that, not if he looked as he did. The capacity for unclouded enjoyment, she thought, does not belong to irresponsible fools; an inviolate peace of spirit is not the achievement of the drifter; to be able to laugh like that is the end result of the most profound, most solemn thinking.

Ayn Rand & CS Lewis

2007-05-02T14:46:00.000-04:00

I just finished reading The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. They’re very thought provoking novels. Ayn Rand wrote these books to explain and promote her personal philosophy of objectivism, which glorifies mankind and holds that man’s independence and happiness are the highest possible values.

Both The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged left me with mixed feelings. Ayn Rand’s philosophy is certainly anti-Christian, and some of the content of her novels is inappropriate, but for all that, her ability as a writer makes her stories spellbinding. Her novels are unique in that they are very deliberate expressions of her philosophy of life. Many authors primarily seek to create great art or to capture timeless themes, plots, and characters on paper. Their beliefs and philosophies are a part of their work, but they don’t write in order to systematically persuade others to embrace an entire worldview. Ayn Rand is different. Her novels sacrifice nothing in terms of plot, characterization, or description, yet they also contain and extra measure of purpose that is, I think, comparatively rare in fiction.

What struck me about Atlas Shrugged, in particular, was its similarity to That Hideous Strength, by CS Lewis. It’s almost ridiculous to compare the two authors, because they write from completely different worldview systems, but still, they draw many of the same conclusions and present their ideas in many of the same ways.

Both Rand and Lewis decry the postmodern, or relativist, movement. One of the most contemptible characters in Atlas Shrugged is Dr. Pritchett, a philosopher who claims that meaning, reason, and morality are non-existent.

“Man? What is man? He is just a collection of chemicals with delusions of grandeur.”

“The purpose of philosophy is not to help men find the meaning of life, but to prove to them that there isn’t any.”

“Reason, my dear fellow, is the most naive of all superstitions. That, at least, has been conceded in our age.”

Toward the end of the book, when men like Pritchett control the United States government and are trying to force the few remaining “reasonable” characters to cooperate with the government’s socialistic economic policies, they argue that it is the “duty” of the prosperous to save the undeserving and the needy from their own folly. However, these men have no right to talk of duty, because they have denied the existence of standards. When a young student asks Dr. Pritchett the question, “By what standard?” he answers, “There are no standards.”

In the same way, CS Lewis in That Hideous Strength paints a picture of the destruction that results from abandoning absolutes. The evils that Ransom, Jane, Dimble, Ivy, and others must face in Lewis’ story exist because men have let themselves be fooled into denying that standards exist.

I’m amazed that both Rand and Lewis identify the same root that causes people to attack reason, morality, and every other essential concept that implies the existence of absolute standards. In the final chapter of Atlas Shrugged, Jim Taggart is forced to recognize the monstrous evil that has motivated him throughout the story:

“…in the moment when he, James Taggart, had found himself facing the ultimatum: to accept reality or die, it was death his emotions had chosen…he knew – he had sought the destruction of all existence…he was seeing his face as the face of a killer whom all men should rightfully loathe, who destroyed values for being values, who killed in order not to discover his own irredeemable evil.”

As John Galt says elsewhere in the novel, “Death is the standard of your values, death is your chosen goal…”

CS Lewis comes to the same conclusion in That Hideous Strength. An elite group of scientists whose goal, ostensibly, is “progress,” become, instead, enemies of mankind. Mark Studdock asks Dr. Frost, “The last two wars, then, were not disasters on your view?” To which Frost responds, “On the contrary, they were simply the beginning of the programme…” Ultimately, Frost comes to see death as the “cure [to] the illusion of being a soul.”

Despite their differences, these writers saw that, in a very real sense, death is both the motive and the cause of relativism. After all, when we purposely eliminate feelings, ethics, absolutes, belief in the “self,” and purpose, what is left of mankind? Something that might as well be dead, I think.

There are many other similarities. For example, Rand and Lewis both deny that a grey, dour, hopelessness is what humans have a right to expect from life. These authors celebrate joy, life, and fulfillment as not only desirable, but also attainable.

CS Lewis chose to believe that God is the standard without which men cannot live. Ayn Rand, however, claimed that man, in and of himself, is the standard. They agreed that a standard is necessary in order for life and joy to exist, but they disagreed about the source of that standard. Even though that is a significant disagreement, I found the extent of their agreement to be very refreshing. It’s interesting to read a book by a non-Christian who saw the threat of postmodern thought as clearly as the most perceptive of Christian thinkers.

Historical Ponderings

2007-04-25T12:20:00.000-04:00

Thoughts I’ve had as I study for my AP World History test:

~ I blithely study tragedies, such as the Irish Potato Famine. I analyze the data and discuss the effects of the event. But I forget the agony and the intense sacrifice involved. The Irish Potato Famine covered only a few short years in the span of history, but during that time, thousands of dramas and heroic acts, each a story worthy of retelling, must have taken place. These unsung stories of self-sacrifice could fill volumes.

~ Victor Hugo’s (Les Miserables) intensely humane and involved portrayal of France in the middle 1800s, is startlingly different from the smooth, analytical, timeline view of my AP history book.

~ Joseph Conrad, in Heart of Darkness: “The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.”

~ To be a head of state or military commander, means sending men to their deaths – what responsibility; how terrible.

~ Magical phrases: Tournament of Shadow, Great Game. They make my spinal region tingle.

~ For millennia, the Middle East possessed vast oil fields, sources of untold wealth, but they lay dormant for years. No one knew about them. Once awakened, these oil fields wreaked more havoc than the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Volcanoes have nothing on oil wells in terms of destruction.

~ Aside from World War II, the war that killed the most people (the Taiping Rebellion in China) was started by a man who thought he was Jesus Christ’s younger brother.

~ Exploit is a filthy word; so many horrible connotations. It actually reminds me of the squished frog in Brother, Where Art Thou?

~ Beneath the waters of the Atlantic, hundreds of miles off the American coast, lie the bones of hundreds, probably thousands, of Africans who died during the Middle Passage - after losing their liberty, but before profiting their exploiters. They say you shiver if someone walks over your grave; I would shiver if I sailed over theirs.

~ “The increased importance of gunpowder weaponry mean that, from this time forward, technological aptitude and military strength would be intimately connected.”

In the past, highly advanced cultures which were not warlike have been destroyed by “barbaric,” but savage, cultures. Is this a danger that no longer exists? Are cultural and technological advancement connected? Will the warlike cultures also be the most culturally and technologically advanced?

~ Two hundred years ago, scholars had an easier job of studying history. There’s so much more of it now!

~ If Europeans had known that their exploration of the Americas would lead to epidemics of disease that would kill 25% of the native population, would the knowledge have deterred them?

~ The Enlightenment is a very conceited name for an age of thought. Perhaps the connotation/meaning of the word has changed since the 1700s and 1800s.

~ Gun control is far from being a new government policy. In Japan, the Tokugawa Shogunate maintained a policy of rigid social stratification. Ordinary citizens were forbidden to own weapons because the government wanted to maintain a monopoly on gunpowder technology.

~ Why is “Philippines” spelled with two “p’s,” while Filipino has only one? (Not to mention the whole “Ph” versus “F’ thing…)

I <3 Alexander Solzhenitsyn

2007-04-24T23:43:00.000-04:00

Beautiful Solzhenitsyn quote; beautiful enough to make me use this cheesy-but-cute symbol: <3

“How simple for me to live with You, O Lord! How easy to believe in You! When in confusion my soul bears itself or bends, when the most wise can see no further than this night and do not know what tomorrow brings, You fill me with the clear certainty that You exist, and that You watch to see that all the paths of righteousness be not closed. From the heights of worldly glory I am astonished by the path through despair your have provided me, this path from which I have been worthy enough to reflect Your radiance to men. All that I will yet reflect You will grant me. And for that which I will not succeed in reflecting, You have appointed others.”

Related Wisdom

2007-04-23T16:49:00.000-04:00

Three passages I recently stumbled upon that address self-knowledge, in varied and fascinating ways:

Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in America,

Robert Bellah:

"Those most trapped in the language of the isolated self ('In the end you’re really alone') are troubled by the nihilism they sense there and are eager to find a way of overcoming the emptiness of purely arbitrary 'values.' We believe that much of the thinking about the self of educated Americans, thinking that has become almost hegemonic in our universities and much of the middle class, is based on inadequate social science, impoverished philosophy and vacuous theology. There are truths we do not see when we adopt the language of radical individualism. We find ourselves not independently of other people and institutions but through them. We never get to the bottom of ourselves on our own. We discover who we are face to face and side by side with others in work, love, and learning…We are parts of a larger whole than we can neither forget nor imagine in our own image without paying a high price.”

Anne of Windy Poplars, LM Montgomery (Yes...this is a longstanding favorite; I re-read the entire series at sporadic intervals.)

Excerpt from a letter in which Anne describes her introduction to a little girl named Elizabeth:

"'And this is Elizabeth?' I said.

"'Not tonight,' she answered gravely. 'This is my night for being Betty because I love everything in the world tonight. I was Elizabeth last night and tomorrow night I'll prob'ly be Beth. It all depends on how I feel.'

"There was the touch of the kindred spirit for you. I thrilled to it at once.

"'How very nice to have a name you can change so easily and still feel it's your own.'

"Little Elizabeth nodded.

"'I can make so many names out of it. Elsie and Betty and Bess and Elisa and Lisbeth and Beth . . . but not Lizzie. I never can feel like Lizzie.'

"When she is Betty she makes faces at her grandmother her back; but when she turns into Elsie she is sorry for it and thinks she ought to confess, but is scared to. Very rarely she is Elizabeth and then she has the face of one who listens to fairy music and knows what roses and clovers talk about. She's the quaintest thing…”

The Four Loves, CS Lewis:

“Lamb says somewhere that if, of three friends, (A, B, and C), A should die, then B loses not only A but ‘A’s part in B.’ In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can only bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never see Ronald’s reaction to a specifically Caroline joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him ‘to myself’ now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald.”

Meditations on 'Being a Different Person'

2007-04-20T12:39:00.000-04:00

Q: What is every writer’s worst nightmare?

A: Being predictable, unoriginal, and cliché.

Caveat: It is possible that successful writers transcend this fear and can thus indulge in guilt-free predictability.

However, despite my horror of the cliché, I take up my pen to explore the topic of self-knowledge. It’s been treated before, extensively, but that hasn’t stopped millions of writers, and it doesn’t stop me. We are intrepid.

Self-knowledge. Here we go.

The fact that I seem to take on different characters and behaviors as I spend time with different people has bothered me a lot lately. What I want is to be genuine, not chameleon-like, after all. There are so many different Karens, and I’m far from being in control of them all. It makes me uneasy.

For example, there is Smooth Karen, who banters jauntily during a downtown lunch date with friends and acquaintances. In contrast, Awkward Karen can’t figure out what to say in the Sunday school class she’s visiting. This character takes comfort in the existence of Businesslike Karen, who makes herself useful by making professional phone calls and contributing to the wording of a document draft. On occasion, Fun Karen surfaces. This girl goes so far as to make shy steps in the direction of head-banging to Carbon Leaf. (Some friends are miracle workers.)

And, of course, the old faithful is what I like to call Karen in Repose. She is solitary, padding around the house in the clothes she (and no one else) likes. This Karen is a reader and tea drinker who listens to Enya and Rich Mullins and is unashamed by her wayward musical taste.

There are many others, including Tender Karen, Rebellious Karen, High IQ Karen, and Domestic Karen. I also know Fashionable Karen must exist, somewhere. Or, at least, I hope she does.

All this frustrates me, though. Why can’t I choose just one self to be? What’s with the variety? Can’t I find a version of myself that is pleasantly uniform?

Suddenly, Peanut Gallery Karen interjects, quoting storybook characters from bygone years: “That’s rather boring, wot?”

To which I respond: “Good point. Uniformity does have its monotonous aspects. But still – that just aggravates the problem. Now I have to choose between avoiding boredom and being sincere? I should hope not.”

At this point in my mental contortions, God takes pity on me, and, while I am attending an apologetics seminar, shows me a Scripture: 1 Corinthians 2:10-11.

“For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For who knows a person's thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him? So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.”

In other words, people are too complex for any one circumstance to be able to fully expose their personalities. I don’t act the same in every single situation because no isolated situation can draw out the fullness of my personality. I find that exceedingly comforting. All of the different Karens can be genuine, even if they fail to achieve uniformity.

All of a sudden I started thinking about that movie, Multiplicity, where Michael Keaton clones himself….I think I’ll stop now.

Objective? As If.

2007-04-18T18:56:00.000-04:00

I originally wrote the Gulliver’s Travels essay that I posted on Monday for an essay contest. As I was writing the essay, I read some of the winning pieces from past years that the sponsor had posted on the contest’s website. They were all well-written, but I was struck with the disparity of opinions about a single work of literature.

For example, the year that analysis of some aspect of Oscar Wilde’s A Portrait of Dorian Gray was the essay topic, several of the prize-winning authors presented entirely different opinions about Wilde’s characters and his motives for writing. In particular, their analyses of Lord Henry, one of the prominent characters in Dorian, show substantial difference of opinion.

One essay reads, “Henry attracts people with his wit and joie de vivre in a Victorian era that seems dull and confining by contrast, and encourages old friends and new acquaintances alike to pursue their passions, enjoy their lives and consider boredom their worst enemy…Advising friends to forget their worries and indulge themselves, Henry encourages people to enjoy the present.”

Another writer declares, “At the opposite end dances Lord Henry with all his charisma and cynicism, sense and sensuality. His disregard for any standard or convention which impedes the immediate gratification of his senses gives rise to a dangerous new philosophy that alarms poor Basil even as it seduces an impressionable Dorian…Wilde condemns a life governed by the senses…The object of any soul in crisis is not to become like Basil and barricade one’s goodness from the world, nor like Harry and tumble recklessly in the shifting currents of one’s desires…”

In the mind of one author and amateur literary analyst, Lord Henry is an example of the liberated soul. To another, he serves as a warning against excessive sensual indulgence. In Dorian, Lord Henry is an enigmatic, complex character, so the difference in opinion isn’t surprising. What is a little bit surprising is the assurance of each author that he or she is correct. It seems like the writers made certain generalizations and assumptions because, in their minds, they were obvious. However, these kinds of assumptions are anything but obvious.

It makes me wonder how much of literary analysis is just subjective interpretation of someone else’s thoughts values and how much is actually reliable. A lot about literary analysis is objective; that’s indisputable (well…not if you’re a deconstructionist). However, I suspect that much of what we think we know about a book, or a poem, or a song reflects what is true about our worldviews and opinions, rather than what is true about the intent of the author. What I think is true about Oscar Wilde’s Lord Henry is not necessarily what my sister thinks, and though both of us understand Wilde’s intent to a degree, much of the “analysis” we could present to support our opinions would only reveal what we believe, not necessarily what Wilde intended to communicate.

Difference of opinion is healthy. It’s good for various interpretations of literature and other forms of fine art to exist. At least, it’s good as long as we recognize that interpretations are just interpretations, not necessarily truisms. I think the mark of a qualified literary analyst would be scrupulous differentiation between objective analysis and mere opinion. Both are valuable, but they shouldn’t be confused.

This whole idea brings to mind many more questions.

Do we need to distinguish between the objective and subjective in biblical interpretation?
How would we do that?
To what extent is it possible to rid oneself of bias?
If you could be totally unbiased, would you want to be? After all, aren’t our opinions tied up very closely with our personalities?

Interesting. I really don’t know. Still, I’m pretty sure opinions masquerading as objective analysis are not helpful. After all, “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”

Failure to Perceive

2007-04-16T15:29:00.000-04:00

An essay I wrote for another assignment:

In the seventh century B.C., the prophet Isaiah criticized the Jewish people by calling them, “Ever hearing, but never understanding…ever seeing, but never perceiving.” In many ways, this criticism also applies to Gulliver, the main character in Jonathan Swift’s novel Gulliver’s Travels. Throughout the novel, Gulliver displays many of the same weaknesses as the people he meets, especially the Lilliputians and the Laputans. In addition, he often seems to miss the condemnation and criticisms present in his own observations, though they are obvious to the reader. Only after experiencing the radical differences between the Houyhnhmn and Yahoo cultures does he become aware of the inconsistencies in his own character. This oblivious behavior supports the claim that Gulliver functions primarily as a “gullible vehicle of satire.”

While living among the Lilliputians, the tiny inhabitants of the isle of Lilliput, Gulliver observes their preferred method of choosing political leaders: rope-dancing. When a new leader needs to be appointed, the people create a tightrope out of a small thread which they suspend several feet above the ground. Then, those who hope to receive the position “petition the emperor to entertain his Majesty and the court with a dance on the rope; and whoever jumps the highest without falling, succeeds in the office.” To the reader, this method of choosing leaders and public servants is laughable, because the choice has nothing to do with whether or not the candidates are qualified to lead. Gulliver, however, seems to miss this point.

In fact, during Gulliver’s stay in Brobdinag, the land of giants, he finds himself defending the equally fallacious methods of choosing leaders often employed in England. While describing the English political system to the giant-king of Brobdinag, the king asks Gulliver “what qualifications are necessary in those who are to be created new lords,” and then perceptively inquires “whether the humour of the prince, a sum of money to a court-lady, or a Prime Minister…ever happened to be a motive in those advancements.” Though the king, and the reader, can immediately see the potential for corruption within the English system, Gulliver persists in defending his country’s practices.

Gulliver’s descriptions of the floating island of Laputa also demonstrate his lack of analytical ability. The king of Balnibarbi lives on Laputa, an island that floats above the lands of his kingdom. Though the king’s job is, presumably, to protect his subjects and to do what he can to increase their prosperity, his method of dealing with discontent betrays his lack of concern for their welfare. Gulliver observes, “If any town should engage in rebellion or mutiny, fall into violent factions, or refuse to pay the usual tribute…keeping the island [Laputa] hovering over such a town, and the lands about it…he can deprive them of the benefit of the sun and rain, and consequently afflict the inhabitants with dearth and diseases.” Rather than being distressed at this display of inhumanity, Gulliver dispassionately records his findings, and then moves on.

The reason for this is clear if we refer, once again, to Gulliver’s conversation with the king of Brobdinag. Gulliver tells the king about English methods of warfare, enthusiastically emphasizing the destructive powers of gunpowder and cannons. “The king was struck with horror at the description I had given of those terrible machines, and the proposal I had made. He was amazed how so impotent and groveling insect as I (these were his own expressions) could entertain such inhuman ideas, and in so familiar a manner as to appear unmoved at all the scenes of blood and desolation…” The king’s concerns do not influence Gulliver in the slightest. Instead, Gulliver explains away the king’s accusations by referencing his “narrow principles” and “short views.”

Throughout the story, there are many other examples of Gulliver first failing to see the flaws in those around him, and then demonstrating those same flaws in his own actions and words. This facet of Gulliver’s character is no accident. Swift, consummate writer and story teller that he was, must have carefully crafted Gulliver’s character, or lack thereof, to be the best conduit of his own pointed and satirical views. The purpose of Gulliver’s Travels is to reveal the flaws and shortcomings in English society, and that purpose is best furthered through a protagonist who himself incarnates those same deficiencies.

This Came to My Attention This Week:

2007-04-14T16:43:00.000-04:00

Christa Taylor Grand Opening Presents Modesty in a Whole New Light

Monday February 20, 3:00 pm
Spring Collection Provides Young Women with “Modish” Options

Vancouver, WA—Christa Taylor, a new clothing company, has made its message clear. As the visionary designer herself explains: “We are fashions for the Empowered Traditionalist. An Empowered Traditionalist, or ‘ET’, loves her clothes and believes modesty can be stylish and attractive.” Christa Taylor’s Spring Collection proves just that.

The company’s dream grew out of a infuriating, yet all too common experience. As a young lady, Taylor encountered weeks of frustrating shopping trips- trying to find something modest and attractive. Finding a modest bathing suit became a long and arduous affair, searching websites and retail stores to no avail. So she went to the drawing board and designed a new swimsuit that satisfied her desire for modesty and style (she calls it "modish:" a blend of modest + "chic").

Updated frequently, her website http://www.christa-taylor.com demonstrates careful thought, and genuine care for her customers. “Expect new styles, ideas, and superior quality” Taylor affirms, “I am all about creating clothes that flatter real girls, satisfying their needs and building a trust relationship.”

The Christa Taylor team believes no business should exist just to make money. In the midst of an individualistic culture focused primarily on success, power and prestige, they are committed to a greater vision; a vision that presses beyond the tendencies towards self-absorption. With this in mind, and always aware of their own need, they have resolved to contribute at least 30% of their profits to the world’s poor and toward furthering social justice around the globe. Their first project is already under way.

For more information, please visit http://www.christa-taylor.com or call 1.888. 582. 4747. To schedule a press interview please contact Jocelyn Edlin @ 503. 459. 9871

Different Approach to the Same Topic...

2007-04-12T17:10:00.000-04:00

A hammock is an unlikely place for a philosophical watershed, I guess, but if genius can flower in Archimedes’ bathtub, who am I to question the times and places at which insights choose to appear? No one, really, but I question them anyway. So, why a hammock? My theory is that it requires a certain level of physical security for me to be willing to venture into the mental unknown, and thus, my moments of inner turmoil occur when I appear outwardly content.

Case in point: on a golden November afternoon in New Orleans, I was lying, with two dear friends, in a friendly, creaking hammock as it swayed mildly back and forth. We were wrapped in a multitude of quilts, I was reading Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, and all was well with the world.

A mere hour later, I was facing complete intellectual upheaval. Aghast, my mind was witnessing the ideological struggle between science and religion (this struggle is the theme of the novel). I was a picnicker on a solitary afternoon ramble who had just rounded a hilltop and suddenly found myself on a precipice, witnessing a titanic clash between two dragons, the forces of science and religion. From my vantage point, I watched the battle progress.

What I really wanted was to cheer for my dragon, to support my opinion. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, because I’m not a cheerleader: definitely no back handsprings; maybe just a little shout, accompanied by a wave. I was afraid, though, that if I voiced my belief, the other dragon would turn, give me a paralyzing glare, and nonchalantly blister me with its noxious chemical breath.

Each chapter of the story pulled me in a new direction. One powerful character thundered about the evils of religion and posed the church with seemingly unanswerable theological challenges. Another compellingly argued for the existence of God and maintained that the world, not to mention science, needs the church. It became clear that, even though I know and am committed to my beliefs, either a theologian or a scientist could out-argue me, no matter what position I took. The more I learned, the more questions I had. Knowledge made me less willing to assert my opinions. A paradox!

“What will happen to me in college?” I asked myself. “Will I be buffeted by the eloquence of my professors? Convinced that my own position is wrong, and then stretched between the opinions of various scholars like a victim of the Inquisition on the rack? I may be right, but I’ll never win an argument. If my mind, because of a disparity in training, isn’t as agile as the mind of a PhD, is it still worth having a mind of my own?”

I closed the book and blinked, but my head was still spinning at a rate that far exceeded the gentle movement of the hammock. I scanned the picturesque backyard around me, but the little girl talking to an imaginary friend on the rope swing only added to the surrealism.

OK, so ignoring the issue wasn’t going to solve this. “Think,” I told myself. “What was it G.K Chesterton said about paradoxes? ‘Truth standing on its head to get attention,’ right? Yes. So, where is the truth in this particular paradox?

“The problem seems to be that the more I learn, the less certain I become. The pleasant illusion that I can hold my own against anyone who challenges what I think has vanished. Now what? Does the fact that better debaters than I can out-talk me mean I should succumb to each new and skillfully presented idea?

“No, I don’t think it does. Somehow that answer cheapens truth, makes it not worth discovering. Truth is about something far deeper than argumentation and eloquence. I don’t mind that truth is too deep for me to fully understand. (After all, I learn, not so much because I love knowledge, but because I love astonishment.) What would crush me is not that the truth is more than I ever guessed, but that it’s so much less: something subject to sophistry.”

I turned and tickled my friend Grace’s feet to get her attention. She rolled over, nearly capsizing the hammock. “Grace…do I have to win arguments to be right?”

“Huh? Of course not! That’s ridiculous. Stop tickling me.”

That could be the answer. “Grace! You’re so wise! Thanks for –“

At which point the hammock took a nosedive and I yanked on her toes to keep from rolling out of it. Not quite as dramatic as Archimedes’ “Eureka!” but it had to do.

I was finally getting somewhere. I don’t have to win arguments to be right. Truth value does not depend on skillful presentation or persuasive arguments. Winston Churchill was right: “The truth is incontrovertible; malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is.”

Basically, I have to be humble enough to admit my insufficiency, to be willing to lose arguments without losing my dignity, to not confuse successful defense of truth with successful promotion of self. The resolution of the paradox is this: truth isn’t about me. Thus, I can be uncertain of myself and of my abilities without doubting the truth.

I was liberated, free to bask in the glorious, gentle sunshine, as long as I didn’t overturn the hammock. However, I was intoxicated by my discovery, and the battle between the dragons was still raging. Gingerly, taking care not to flip myself onto the ground, I reached for my book and opened to the next chapter.

Changing History

2007-04-10T13:49:00.000-04:00

Q: If you had the power to change any event in history, which would you choose to change, and why?

A: Angels and Demons, the sequel to Dan Brown’s novel The Da Vinci Code, explores one of the 21^st century’s tragedies: the rift between the spiritual and the scientific. One character, the Hassassin, proclaims, “Medicine and airbags…those are things that protect you. God does not protect you…Who needs God? No! Science is God.”

For many, the separation between science and spirituality is total, the alienation complete. However, had just one historical event unfolded differently, the perspective of an entire culture on the role of science and the place of spirituality in society might have taken on a radically different character. It is this single event that I propose to change.

In 1633, the scientist Galileo Galilei stood trial for heresy before the Roman Catholic Church because he made scientific claims which the church perceived as contrary to Scripture. In the end, Galileo relented and recanted his assertions about a heliocentric astronomical model. This event epitomized an increasing polarization of the scientific and the spiritual. The repercussions of this polarization are so serious that if I could change one historical event, I would choose to alter the Roman Catholic Church’s response to Galileo’s scientific research.

What might these repercussions be? Science, in divorcing itself from the church, has denied itself a moral standard by which to evaluate its progress. The church, in divorcing itself from science, has encouraged scientists to create their own competing worldview of evolutionary materialism which has dominated human society for over a century. According to Angels and Demons, “The complexities of the universe have been shredded…our self-worth as human beings has been destroyed...Who is this God science? Who is the God who offers his people power but no moral framework to tell you how to use that power?”

More specifically, the confusion about the ethics of abortion, cloning, assisted suicide, and stem cell research, is due, in large part, to science’s rejection of the role of spirituality in providing a moral framework for decision making. One hundred years ago, nearly all scientific advances were hailed, without caveat, as “progress.” At the end of the bloodiest century in human history, we see differently. The result of science’s unilateral rejection of the spiritual, coupled with the church’s retreat from relevant social issues, has been a gross misuse of the tools with which science has supplied us. Both sides are at fault. In believing themselves to be enemies, they have injured that which it is their purpose to protect: humanity itself.

Had the church responded differently to Galileo, the scientific community might have responded differently to the church. In this lies the possibility of reconciliation between science and spirituality. My proposed touch of the finger of fate is a delicate one, for an attempt to address such a sensitive, inflamed question requires a light touch. But when one has found the right pressure point, force is unnecessary. It is the knowing hand, not the heavy one, which relieves tension and brings peace.

The Unexamined Life?

2007-04-09T16:05:00.000-04:00

Excerpts from “Dancing Through Life,” from the Broadway play Wicked:

But I say: why invite stress in?
Stop studying strife
And learn to live "the unexamined life":

Dancing through life
Skimming the surface
Gliding where turf is smooth

Dancing through life
Swaying and sweeping
And always keeping cool

Life is fraught-less
When you're thoughtless
Those who don't try
Never look foolish

Dancing through life
Mindless and careless
Make sure you're where less
Trouble is rife

If only because dust
Is what we come to:

Nothing matters
But knowing nothing matters
It's just life
So keep dancing through:

And the strange thing:
Your life could end up changing
While you're dancing
Through!

When a song like this strikes even the puniest and most anemic of chords within my soul, I know it’s time for some serious reevaluation and change.

My busy schedule is making it challenging for me to find time for meditation and reflection. More and more often, I settle for merely thinking my thoughts, or for occasionally dialoging with a friend or two, rather than analyzing and organizing my ideas into essays and blog posts. This tendency makes me nervous, for a couple of reasons.

First, I grow intellectually when I write. The discipline of transferring personal ideas into coherent written communication is very good for me, and unless I have an incentive (such as other people reading and commenting), this is a discipline I neglect. I need to be more proactive about my participation in “the great conversation.”

Second, I live more fully when I evaluate my experiences through writing. When I force myself to think like a writer, every experience has the potential to provide me with insights, ideas, and thoughts. When I don’t function in this mindset, I let experiences pass by, rather than grappling with them until they reveal lessons. Writing lets me accost the events in my life. Carpe diem!

So, I’m back to blogging. I’m really excited, too, because I’ve missed the joy of thinking and writing about what is beautiful and important. Rhetorical Response is going to look different this time around. I’m about to graduate high school, and I have no British literature course to guide my writing. Also, I’m juggling travel (frequent trips to Tennessee to visit my employer), impending Advanced Placement and SAT II tests, and college applications. In July, I leave home for four months to pursue an internship as Teresa Moon’s personal assistant.

Being busy, though, is what motivates me to blog again. “Skimming the surface” is all too frightening a possibility, and I think, and hope, and pray Rhetorical Response will help me evade the trap.

Besides all that, God speaks to me when I write and when I read the thoughts of others. It’s so much fun to encourage and be encouraged by likeminded writers and thinkers. Discussion in the blogosphere is a joy, and I can’t wait to take part in it again.

Here’s to the examined life.

In Which I Become an Authoress, and Intern, and a Senator

2006-07-08T22:41:00.000-04:00

This is a why-I-haven’t-been-blogging-lately post, as well as a why-I-won’t-be-blogging-much-in-the-future post. There’s probably no such thing as a good excuse for irregular posting and anemic blogging, but I’m going to do my best to present one anyway.

For quite a while, it’s been a dream of mine to write about apologetics. Until six months ago, I though it was the kind of dream that would hopefully come true in the distant future, but since then, God has revealed different plans. Rather than waiting years before I start writing, my first book, an apologetics curriculum published by Communicators for Christ, will be finished this year.

It’s both amazing and terrifying to have this kind of opportunity before I turn seventeen. More than anything else, it’s taught me more about having faith in God rather than in my own faith or my own abilities. Writing this book has also given me a new perspective on how to present Christianity to the world. I’m seeing that Christianity makes incredible, even fantastic, claims, and that anyone who calls himself a Christian must be prepared to explain why he has the audacity to believe he possesses absolute truth.

So I’m becoming an authoress. Starting on July 22^nd, I get to be a senator for eight days, too. Earlier this month, I attended Hoosier Girls State, an American Legion Auxiliary political camp. The thing I’ll always remember about Girls State was that it was hot. We stayed in college dorms that didn’t have any air conditioning, so we were keenly aware of the eighty and ninety degree whether for the entire week. The other thing I’ll always remember about Girls State is that it showed me how exciting politics can be.

Several of the Girls State Citizens, myself included, spent one day in our state’s capitol, debating legislative bills in the Indianapolis state house. As I sat in the senate chambers, basking in the air conditioning, I found myself wishing I could spend days listening to political ideas and debating them. The next day, to my great delight, I discovered that I had been chosen to attend Girls Nation, a program similar to Girls State, except that it takes place on the national level and involves an all expense paid trip to Washington D.C. In less than three weeks I’ll be flying to the east coast to fulfill my duties as a Girls Nation senator.

The day after I get home from Girls Nation, I leave for Nashville, TN, to assist at a debate camp, and two days after that camp ends, I begin my eighteen-week internship with Communicators for Christ. Ever since I was twelve, I’ve wanted to spend a semester interning with CFC. As interns, I and eleven other teenagers get to plan a four-day conference introducing teenagers to speech and debate and then actually make the conference happen at sixteen different locations. We get to travel all across the country – from Rhode Island to Colorado to Texas to Florida – in a gorgeous motor home in order to make this tour season happen.

The twelve of us staffers have the incredibly privilege to be able to touch the lives of hundreds of our peers, as well as to strengthen our friendship and sense of community as we work toward our goal. We get to be mentored by some of the country’s most accomplished communicators, to develop our own communication skills, to learn how to live and work with other people under stressful conditions. And, we get to tour the White House.

Between writing, traveling, teaching, and speaking, the next six months of my life are going to be exciting. I’m not sure how to express how thrilled I am to be able to work with others to advance God’s kingdom, but I’m certain that I can’t imagine a better way to spend my senior year in high school.

The sad thing, amidst all of these blessings, is that I’m going to have to leave Rhetorical Response, at least until the end of the year. After that, I’m not entirely certain how much blogging time I’ll have.

At this point, what I do know is that I’ve learned more through blogging than I ever imagined I would. I’ve met all kinds of people and had all kinds of conversations. I’ve also been inspired in many, many ways. I’ve become a better writer, for which I’m especially thankful. I’ve learned some new computer skills, and I’ve become familiar with the blogosphere. I’ve discovered articles and perspectives that have fueled weeks of conversations with my family. The way I think has changed – for the better.

This is my (almost) very last post for a very long time. It’s really tough to decide how to end something that started so uncertainly and developed to beautifully. This time last year, I had never heard the term “blogspot” before. A lot has changed since then, thankfully. I’m so glad that first my dad and then several of my friends encouraged me to try blogging. It’s been wonderful, and I’m sure that, even though I’m currently fading out, I, like the governor of California, will be back.

To everyone who has ever read my blog or encouraged me through a comment or a great post – thank you!

Proving the Un-Provable

2006-06-16T22:21:00.000-04:00

Background:

Three or four weeks ago, Exbeliever and I started a discussion about Christianity and atheism. Due to other events in my life, I’ve had to postpone my response for sometime, but now I’m able to offer a statement of my position as a Christian.

What I’ve written is a statement of my position as a presuppositionalist and a Christian. I’ve endeavored to define a fair burden of proof for each side in this discussion, to present challenges to the atheist worldview, and to support my own presuppositions. As I’m continually seeking to refine my approach, I welcome any and all comments, but only if they meet these standards. I will delete comments that are not respectful, that contain ad hominem attacks, or that in any other way violate the commenting policy.

Also, I’m leaving for another week on Sunday (the 18^th). For the rest of June I’ll be in and out of town, with limited Internet access, so I’ll probably be a while responding to any comments.

One more thing – I know this post is really, really long. Still, I think it’s worth reading, though perhaps not in one sitting. Since I won’t be posting for a while, you’ll have plenty of time to evaluate. I covet your thoughts, critiques, and suggestions!

The Nature of Proof

Exbeliever, you want me to provide you with a deductive proof for the existence of God, something that ends with the statement, “Therefore, God exists.” I’ll be upfront – I’m not going to do that. Before you throw up your hands in disgust, read my reasons for declining to do so.

You can’t prove a presupposition. For clarity, I’d like to define the word presupposition. Philosopher Ronald Nash writes that presuppositions are “beliefs that we accept without support from arguments or evidence.” They’re assumptions, in other words. By definition, they can’t be proven. Here, I use the word “proof” to mean a deductive, logical argument. I think that’s the sense in which you have been using the word, as well.
Belief or non-belief in God is a presuppositional choice. I don’t believe there is a deductive proof for God’s existence. On that issue, it appears that we agree. I don’t believe in God because of such a proof. Rather, I assume that he exists. Now, some Christians would disagree with this statement, but I’m not defending the idea of apologetics that some Christians hold; I’m defending the idea of apologetics that I believe is biblical. This is fair, in light of our previous discussion regarding your definition of atheism.

It follows from these statements that you can’t prove God’s existence or non-existence. Again, I’m pretty sure we both agree on this.

However, here’s where I think we disagree: you say that since we can’t (deductively) prove God’s existence, we should assume he doesn’t exist. Of course, some atheists, like yourself, are still open to the possibility that God exists. My position is that it is irresponsible to assume, by default, that God does not exist, simply because there is no deductive proof for his existence. Here s why:

Everyone operates on the basis of presuppositions and has a worldview. Really quickly, let me present another definition. This is from James Nickel (a mathematician, educator, theologian, and writer). According to Nickel, a worldview is “a network of presuppositions not authenticated by the procedures of natural science, a perspective through which everything in human experience is interpreted and human reason is guided.” We all have unprovable assumptions. For example, I sincerely hope we both believe that other people have minds, yet this is not a provable statement. We can’t prove logical laws or geometric axioms, either. Our worldviews are composed of these presuppositions and other core beliefs.
Atheism isn’t provable. Atheism, or naturalism (by which I mean the opposite of supernaturalism), is, like all other worldviews, composed of presuppositions. By definition, it’s unprovable. Both theists and atheists have common presuppositions, like the ones I mentioned above. Atheism also has presuppositions that it does not share with most theists, such as the uniformity of natural causes in a closed system. Please note – I am not trying to put words in your mouth. I don’t know all of your presuppositions, and I am, to an extent, generalizing what I know about atheism/naturalism. If I misrepresent your worldview, please correct me.
The conflict is between ultimately unprovable worldviews. If you can’t prove your presuppositions and I can’t prove mine, it’s unreasonable for you to reject my presuppositions in favor of yours, as long as you are basing your decision on my failure to offer a deductive proof. You can’t offer a deductive proof for your position, either. Clearly, there is a conflict. Just as clearly, we can’t use deductive proofs to resolve the conflict because it occurs at a presuppositional level.

Now, what criterion can we use to evaluate the worldviews in question, since deductive proof is not viable? I present the criterion of explanatory power. My position is that Christianity’s presuppositions can explain human observations and that no other worldview can. The choice is between Christianity and inconsistency.

Exbeliever, when I alluded to this criterion earlier in our discussion, you responded that a worldview’s inability to answer a fundamental question is no reason to reject that worldview because some future discovery might provide an answer. Basically, the possibility of greater explanatory power in the future outweighs inability to provide answers in the present. You also said that an individual’s inability to justify his worldview doesn’t mean the worldview itself is unsound, only that the individual can’t defend it.

My response is that this answer invalidates our present discussion. If we allow for this, then we have created a giant cop-out. Anytime I am unable to provide an answer to a fundamental question, I can trust that the future will justify me. You can do the same. It’s conceivable that we would both end up clinging to our worldviews out of blind faith in the future. This has the potential to render our discussion meaningless.

As I say this, I do want to clarify and qualify. I don’t have to give provide a specific process in answer to any specific question you may ask, and neither do you. I can’t tell you the specific method God used to create the world. You can’t tell me the specific method by which evolution happened. When I speak of providing answers, this is not what I mean. What I do mean is that each worldview has to provide answers that are (1) logically consistent, and (2) reasonable.

With that said, let me clarify what I mean by presenting the criterion of explanatory power. A worldview with explanatory power meets the two conditions above. It is logically consistent – it has no internal contradictions – and it is reasonable, or consistent with our observation of the world.

Ken Ham offers an analogy in support of the explanatory power criterion. Presuppositions are like glasses. We put them on and they determine how we view the world. The question is, which set of glasses is consistent with the evidence?

To summarize: our present discussion must be one that compares two worldviews. We cannot rely on deductive proofs. A criterion by which we can accurately evaluate our worldviews is that of explanatory power. My contention is that Christianity is the only worldview with sufficient explanatory power, and thus, it is superior to all others. While there are many ways to demonstrate Christianity’s superior explanatory power, I am going to look specifically at metaphysics and ethics.

Considering the Options

On a basic philosophical level, all worldviews ultimately come down to one of four options. Below is a quick summary (taken from Francis Schaeffer’s He Is There and He Is Not Silent).

There is no rational explanation for it all. I’m not going to concentrate on this for two reasons. First, to the best of my knowledge, neither you nor I believe it. Second, it’s self-defeating since it uses logic to come to its conclusion.
The cosmos comes from nothing. Again, I don’t think either of us holds this position, so I’m not going to spend time on it. Also, I’d contend that no one holds this position at all because there’s no support for it; namely, it’s inconsistent with everything we observe. As Julie Andrews sings In The Sound of Music, “Nothing comes from nothing/Nothing ever could.”
The cosmos had an impersonal beginning. This option includes all pantheistic philosophies, as well as atheism a la Carl Sagan. “The cosmos is all there ever was or ever will be.” I’m assuming this is your position, but please correct me if I’m wrong. I’ll address this explanatory power of this option later.
The cosmos had a personal beginning. This is my preferred option. I narrow it to the infinite-personal God of Christianity, but more on that later.

Those are the options. Hopefully we can agree that the last two are the only ones we need to discuss. If not, let me know and I’ll change my assumptions in this area.

The Metaphysical Challenge

Here we’re dealing with the study of being. I’m going to look specifically at the nature of man. My contention is this: to explain the existence of personality, the Christian worldview is necessary.

Throughout history, humans have observed that they are different from any other organism in the universe. Unlike all animals and other life forms, humans appear to possess personality. This is what we have observed. Now we have to ask which set of presuppositions, or glasses, best explains this observation.

The presupposition that the cosmos had an impersonal beginning tries to explain human personality in one of two ways. First, it may claim that the personal arose from the impersonal. This, however, cannot be true. We have absolutely no reason so accept this idea. It’s totally unfounded, and nothing in our human experience attests to this being possible. Rather, all our experience dictates that only personality can create personality. If we accept an impersonal beginning, however, we have to reduce personality to impersonality + time. The only difference between us and other life forms is time, which allowed complexity to develop.

This interpretation has two fundamental problems. First, according to everything we’ve ever observed, it’s impossible for the impersonal to create the personal. Second, this approach comes perilously close to denying personality by reducing it to impersonal + time/complexity.

If we still want to believe in an impersonal source, but we don’t want to back ourselves in to a corner by saying the personal came from the impersonal, there is another option open to us. We could deny that man is a personal being. Yet, this approach is seriously flawed, as well. The first problem is that this interpretation is inconsistent with the whole of human experience. The second problem is that this interpretation forces us into determinism. This would mean that all our actions are pre-determined by chance, random, impersonal forces. We, and all our seeming “personality” are only the effects of previous chemical causes, which were themselves merely effects. When we take this approach and deny personality, we deny the “mannishness” of man. We deny ourselves.

Both of these interpretations fail to meet the criterion of interpretive power. The claim that the personal came from the impersonal is not reasonable (condition #2) because it denies human experience. I would claim that it fails the first condition of logical consistency because there’s not even a shred of evidence of support the idea. This interpretation is the equivalent of saying “As far as we know, personality can’t spring from non-personality, but we still say that it does.” The claim that there is no personality also fails condition #2 because it also denies the entirety of human experience and observation.

A personal beginning, by contrast, can easily account for personality: a personal God created personality. To expand on this idea further, the Christian God is also infinite, which gives finite man an infinite reference point, a sufficient integration point for his existence. Metaphysically, a personal beginning meets the criterion of explanatory power, unlike an impersonal beginning.

The Ethical Challenge

A worldview with sufficient explanatory power must also be able to provide consistent, convincing answers in the area of ethics, or morality. As I look at ethics, my contention is that without a personal God, there is no logical basis for morality. Yet denying morality flies in the face of human experience. If we presuppose an impersonal beginning, we must deny either logic or human experience in the area of ethics. In either case, an impersonal beginning fails to meet the standard of explanatory power.

Ethics are inescapably personal. There is no right or wrong in the impersonal world, only time, chance, and chemical processes. Unless we can have a personal basis, we cannot have ethics. If we try to find our personal basis in mankind, we relegate all of ethics to matters of opinion. Ethics that spring from human experience alone, rather than from a personal God, are not really ethics; they’re just preferences. Right and wrong must have their source outside of mankind. If we try to find our personal basis in an impersonal beginning, we’re thrust into a metaphysical quandary. The bottom line is, ethics have to come from a personal source, and the only sufficient source is a personal God.

Recognizing this, many atheists have tried to deny ethics, but this position, as I’ve mentioned, contradicts human experience. It rubs our sensibilities in the mud. It forces us to admit that torture is not a moral issue. This was the Marquis de Sade’s argument, and Alexander Pope’s claim: “Whatever is, is right!” Ravi Zacharias says we’re left with nothing but humans “dancing to their DNA.” Determinism and impersonality destroys ethics.

“Is this what we have come to? We must be warned that there are no brakes on this slippery slope once we step onto it. The denial of an objective moral law, based on the compulsion to deny the existence of God, results ultimately in the denial of evil itself. Can you imagine telling a raped woman that the rapist merely danced to his DNA? …Tell the victims of Auschwitz that their tormentors merely danced to their DNA. Tell the loved ones of those cannibalized by Jeffrey Dahmer that he merely danced to his DNA. So dance along! How repugnant! This is not a dance!” (Jesus Among Other Gods, Ravi Zacharias)

In the area of ethics, meeting the standard of explanatory power requires a personal beginning.

More on Ethics

Exbeliever, on one of your posts about presuppositionalism, I read your argument that morals can be both relative and objective simultaneously. You presented this argument as a refutation of the idea that morality must be universal. I’m thinking this would be a good time to respond to your argument so you won’t have to make it all over again.

Basically, you said that just as motion is both relative and objective, morality can also be simultaneously relative and objective. You argued that morality can still be morality, even if it only exists in the context of a framework arbitrarily created by human beings. You noted that society’s conception of morality depends on which groups exert the most social or political influence.

Here’s my response:

This argument rests on equivocation. By the end of the argument, morality means something entirely different than it did at the beginning. At the end, morality may be objective, but it’s also nothing more than personal opinion. That fact that my favorite color is purple is also objective, but it’s still personal opinion. If I understand you correctly, morality is no more authoritative than my favorite color or your favorite food. Objective it may be, but it’s also merely opinion. Whoever most successfully foists his opinion on society gets to define morality.

You can say you “believe that it is morally wrong to rape someone,” but not that it is morally wrong to rape someone. There is a huge difference between belief and actuality. Just because you believe something doesn’t make it so. You can believe something, and you can try to impose your belief on others (by fair means or foul), but it’s still a personal opinion. You may have an objective moral framework, but where did the framework originate? Why should we accept it? Because you say so? Again, this isn’t morality anymore; it’s merely opinion.

This is not at all what I (or Greg Bahnsen) mean when we discuss morality. By “morality” we mean something greater than personal opinion, something binding. Our argument is that this concept of morality can only spring from an infinite-personal source.

That’s All, Folks

OK – I’m winding down now. To consolidate matters, here’s the issue in brief: when dealing with two un-provable worldview systems, we must use the criterion of explanatory power to evaluate the systems’ merit. Systems that presuppose an impersonal beginning fail to meet this criterion on the metaphysical and ethical levels. The Christian system, that of an infinite-personal God, does meet this standard. Because of this, I hold that it is reasonable to accept it.

As Schaeffer wrote, “Christianity is not the best answer. It is the only answer.” It’s the only answer that is logically consistent and reasonable, meaning it’s consistent with human experience. The “glasses” of the Christian worldview are the only glasses that enable us to see the world clearly and truly.

Autonomy

2006-06-13T18:53:00.000-04:00

My sister and I watched part of the old musical Camelot last night. We watched it until it started to get sad, and then we turned it off, because we didn't want to feel sad. ;-)

Anyway, we had a great time listening to Lancelot's thoroughly conceited song about himself. It's autonomous man glorifying himself...with a "Christian" twist. Weird.

A knight of the Table Round should be invincible,
Suceed where a less fantastic man would fail.
Climb a wall no one else can climb,
Cleave a dragon in record time,
Swim a moat in a coat of heavy iron mail.
No matter the pain, he ought to be unwinceable,
Impossible deeds should be his daily fare.
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so *extraordinaire*?

C'est moi! C'est moi, I'm forced to admit.
'Tis I, I humbly reply.
That mortal who
These marvels can do,
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I.
I've never lost
In battle or game;
I'm simply the best by far.
When swords are crossed
'Tis always the same:
One blow and au revoir!
C'est moi! C'est moi! So adm'rably fit!
A French Prometheus unbound.
And here I stand, with valour untold,
Exeption'ly brave, amazingly bold,
To serve at the Table Round!

The soul of a knight should be a thing remarkable,
His heart and his mind as pure as morning dew.
With a will and a self-restraint
That's the envy of ev'ry saint
He could easily work a miracle or two.
To love and desire he ought to be unsparkable,
The ways of the flesh should offer no allure.
But where in the world
Is there in the world
A man so untouched and pure?
(C'est moi!)

C'est moi! C'est moi, I blush to disclose.
I'm far too noble to lie.
That man in whom
These qualities bloom,
C'est moi, c'est moi, 'tis I.
I've never strayed
From all I believe;
I'm blessed with an iron will.
Had I been made
The partner of Eve,
We'd be in Eden still.
C'est moi! C'est moi! The angels have chose
To fight their battles below,
And here I stand, as pure as a pray'r,
Incredibly clean, with virtue to spare,
The godliest man I know!
C'est moi!

Bloggers Win National Championship Awards

2006-06-12T19:15:00.000-04:00

Just yesterday, I returned from the NCFCA National Speech and Debate Championship Tournament in Purcellville, VA. You'll be glad to know that the teen bloggers who competed at the tournament did exceptionally well.

Cody Herche and Rachel Heflin of Legal Redux won the Team Policy Debate Championship. This was an incredibly competitive event, and Cody and Rachel did themselves proud in the final round. Congratulations!

Also, Marshall Sherman of Advancing His Kingdom is the nation's new Humorous Interp Champion! Marshall's HI was a Lone Ranger parody - quality humor, I must say.

I was the first place apologetics speaker at the tournment, which was a great blessing. Through this event, God has begun to train me to defend my faith in real life situations.

Speech and debate competition is one of the most rewarding activities in which homeschooled teens can participate. After four years in the NCFCA, I can truly say that God has transformed me through this activity. The lessons I've learned and the skills I've gained are invaluable.

Posting Doesn't Seem to Be Happening

2006-06-01T18:41:00.000-04:00

For the next little while, I don’t know what posting’s going to look like.

The SAT and the NCFCA National Speech and Debate tournament are approaching, which will keep me traveling and/or studying until the second week of June.

After that, Lord willing, I can do some writing about TS Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral.

For the economically inclined, a query: are economic sanctions morally justified? I just watched a debate on that issue, and then had a lively discussion with my mother. If you have any thoughts, pray tell.

I learned a new word today, from Michael Butler and Doug Phillips - marginalia. Splendid, no?

Apologetics in Action

2006-05-25T16:05:00.000-04:00

Via Culture Watch I just found this beautiful post. It's a real apologetics testimonial that's both inspiring and practical - well worth reading.

Alienation

2006-05-24T18:15:00.000-04:00

As I think about Miss Brill, I pity her more and more. I also wonder how many people we meet in our lives feel the same way. Among non-Christians, I imagine the feeling of alienation or isolation can be very strong at times.

Another story that deals with the theme of alienation is Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis. This story is less wistful than Miss Brill, but far more horrifying. Like Miss Brill, it's incredibly sad. Christians never have to feel alone, but existentialists and naturalists are utterly alone. They're just pointless specks in an infinite universe, and the only meaning in their lives is what they can create themselves. It's tragic.

In How to Win Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie makes the point that people want to feel important. The way to win friends and influence people is to show others that you think they are important - not by flattery, but by honest interest and attention. That's a big part of evangelism, too - showing that you care. The minute evangelism becomes a way to flaunt our intellectual or emotional superiority, it also becomes unspeakably cruel (in the words of Francis Schaeffer) and dead, as well.

…Just a couple thoughts.

"All the world's a stage?"

2006-05-23T21:45:00.000-04:00

Shakespeare wrote, “All the world’s a stage.” Miss Brill, the title character in Katherine Mansfield’s short story, believes the same thing. In this story, the idea that she is an “actress” and thus plays a meaningful part in some grand drama symbolizes Miss Brill’s denial of reality and her retreat into fantasy. Miss Brill is a lonely, older woman who spends her Sunday afternoons at a park, people watching and listening to the band play. These outings are the highlight of her week, the most exciting part of her monotonous, lonely life. Mansfield’s short story is the description of one such Sunday afternoon, presented from Miss Brill’s point of view. Katherine Mansfield’ narrative technique, foils, and use of internal conflict make the following statement about Miss Brill: more than anything else, she desperately wants to belong.

Mansfield uses stream-of-consciousness narration in “Miss Brill,” meaning she tells her story by taking the reader through a record of Miss Brill’s thoughts. We understand what is happening to Miss Brill through her internal dialogue, through her responses to the people and events surrounding her. As Miss Brill takes her seat on a park bench, she remarks to herself that everything is “fascinating” and “so like a play!” Before she leaves her house, she takes out her fur, and we learn that she almost considers it a pet, because she carries on something of a mental conversation with it: “The rogue!”

Miss Brill’s narration tends to focus on odd details. The things she notices about her surroundings and the way she interprets what she sees reveals what kind of person she is. Because she comes to the park so often, Miss Brill recognizes many of the people. She observes every detail of their behavior and even relates what they do to the music the band is playing. When a dog walks across the park, Miss Brill notices that, too. She comes to the conclusion that everyone in the park, herself included, is part of a play. They all have a part to play, some role to fulfill. This “realization” so excites Miss Brill that it brings tears to her eyes. Clearly, the idea that she belongs and has a purpose is very important to her.

There are many foils, or characters who serve to develop Miss Brill’s character, in this story. Every person Miss Brill observes reveals something about her. At one point, Miss Brill watches an older woman wearing an ermine toque. “Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the same color as the shabby ermine.” This faded woman tries to engage a gentleman in conversation, but he ignores her. For a moment, she is crushed, but then “raised her hand, as though she’d seen someone else, much nicer, just over there, and pattered away.” Miss Brill sympathizes with this woman, but refuses to see any similarities between herself (a lonely old woman wearing a fur) and the lady she is watching. This stubborn avoidance of reality shows that Miss Brill is unwilling to face the truth about herself.

Two other foils who influence Miss Brill are the young man and woman she dubs “the hero and heroine” of the play. They come and sit on her bench, so Miss Brill prepares to listen to their conversation. This interaction with the main characters in the so-called play is the climax of her afternoon. However, the “hero” looks at Miss Brill and says “…that old stupid thing at the end there? Why does she come here at all – who wants her? Why doesn’t she keep her silly old mug at home?” Crushed, Miss Brill makes her way home, neglecting to stop at the baker’s and buy her customary treat. The “hero’s” realistic appraisal of her is devastating, yet she refuses to acknowledge its legitimacy.

Throughout “Miss Brill,” the internal conflict between reality and fantasy is apparent. Miss Brill persuades herself that she has a meaningful part in some sort of play, as the narration style and foils makes quite clear. Yet, it is just as clear that she can’t keep reality, in the form of other people, from harshly intruding. She sees another lonely old woman, similar to herself, and her imagined hero and heroine reject her. Her fantastical construct can’t exclude reality, so in the end, she goes home and shuts her fur back into its box, imagining she can hear it crying. Miss Brill can’t suppress reality, though she tries to do so.

The narration, the foils, and the conflict describe Miss Brill’s fantasy. The purpose of this fantasy is to make her feel needed, important, and maybe even loved. Her greatest desire is to belong to some group, to escape the loneliness of the rest of her life. She wishes that if she didn’t go to the park one week, someone there would notice, and miss her. She is a character desperately searching for companionship, even though her life is one of unrelieved alienation.

One Way Purpose: "The Dumbest Attack on Homeschooling"

2006-05-22T19:31:00.000-04:00

Just found this fascinating article by David Boscovic at One Way Purpose entitled "The Dumbest Attack on Homeschooling." It raises some really, really interesting points.

I was pleased to see the article mentioned RJ Rushdoony. Has anyone ever read any of his books? What did you think?

Miss Brill

2006-05-22T19:05:00.000-04:00

I recently read Katherine Mansfield's short story "Miss Brill." It took me a day of pondering the story to understand the theme, but it was worth it. The theme is alienation, and the story elicits quite a bit of sympathy for lonely people. Read it here.

Also, there are a couple of good analysis articles here and here.

Incarnate Spiritual Pluck

2006-05-21T18:39:00.000-04:00

Although I have what might be called a love-hate relationship with Oswald Chambers, I enjoyed this section from My Utmost for His Highest, especially the last phrase:

"In your patience, possess ye your souls." (Luke 21:19)

When a man is born again, there is not the same robustness in his thinking or reasoning for a time as formerly. We have to make an expression of the new life, the form the mind of Christ. "Acquire your soul with patience." Many of us prefer to stay at the threshold of the new life instead of going on to construct a soul in accordance with the new life God has put within. We fail because we are ignorant of the way we are made, we put things down to the devil instead of our own undisciplined natures. Think what we can be when we are roused!

There are certain things we must not pray about – moods, for instance. Moods never go by praying, moods go by kicking. A mood nearly always has its seat in the physical condition, not in the moral. It is a continual effort not to listen to the moods which arise from a physical condition, never submit to them for a second. We have to take ourselves by the scruff of the neck and shake ourselves, and we find that we can do what we said we could not. The curse with most of us is that we won’t. The Christian life is one of incarnate spiritual pluck.

Not Waving, But Drowning

2006-05-19T23:22:00.000-04:00

<>Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been to cold for him his heart gave way,
They said. <>

Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

-- Stevie Smith

Like Gaston Leroux and Robert Louis Stevenson, Stevie Smith would almost certainly have not agreed with the Christian doctrine of man’s depravity, yet this poem shows that she understood, in a limited way, humanity’s predicament. It’s reading too much into this poem (and into the works I discussed in my last post) to say they are accurate statements of man’s condition, but when read from a Christian perspective, they show that honest unbelievers really do see the futility of life without God, whether or not they state it in those terms.

Nietzsche’s pronouncement that “God is dead” caused him to despair, and this made him, in many ways, more of a clear thinker than optimistic atheists. On this point Nietzsche and Christians agree: the alternative to God (the triune God of the Bible, I would add) is despair. This is what Francis Schaeffer would call living below “the line of despair.” Humans are not waving, but drowning.

As Christians, we need to realize that there are unbelievers who are actually conscious that they are “not waving, but drowning” and that this is a resounding call to practice apologetics. Apologetics is the defense of the faith, or, the vindication of the Christian philosophy of life against all non-Christian philosophies of life. People who clearly see the hopelessness of their condition need someone to show them a viable, rational alternative. People who are not content with humanist and naturalist explanations desperately need someone to explain the truth. These people desire a vindication of the Christian philosophy of life! If someone would show them that their worldview is not true and that Christianity is, many of them would be relieved!

Both my parents became Christians as adults, after years of living in uncertainty. My mother was a true “seeker” who had experimented with nearly every type of lifestyle without finding satisfaction. My father was a hippie who lived in a commune and hitchhiked across the country to hear gurus speak (and, hopefully, levitate buildings). For both my mother and my father, the discovery that Christianity was true was an incredible revelation. They had never even considered Christianity before, simply because it never occurred to them that the Bible was anything other than a book of myths and Jewish folk stories. They knew they were “drowning,” but they didn’t know there was an alternative. What my mom and dad needed was an apologist – someone who would show the superiority of the Christian philosophy of life in relation to all others.

That’s what many, many people need. They’re dissatisfied and miserable, and if only someone would show them that there is another, better way that’s also true, they would eagerly accept Christianity. Of course, God is sovereign in these matters, and individuals do not convert people; the Holy Spirit does. We have to understand that apologetics is not a matter of explaining the right philosophy and getting automatic results. And yet, God has commanded us to be faithful to defend and explain our worldview and to remain confident that we possess the truth (1 Peter 3:15).

This is vitally important and completely practical. The question becomes, how are going to apply this? What steps are we going to take to fulfill the biblical mandate to defend the faith and to evangelize all peoples (1 Peter 3:15, Jude 6, Philemon 3, Matthew 28:19)? What are we going to do now? We shouldn’t wait to practice apologetics. Instead, we ought to seize the opportunities God has already granted us and actively pursue more. We can’t wait until we’re adults to save drowning people because they need help right now.

Identity

2006-05-18T11:47:00.000-04:00

As much as people want to believe that every one is “basically good,” much of great literature belies this idea. Many great authors have recognized the gap between who people want to be and who people really are. They’ve recognized that much of man’s “goodness” is only a front that isn’t representative of his true nature. In literature, as in real life, humanity’s identity is complex; “basically good” is far to simplistic a term to describe the tumultuous nature of man. Many of the classics that explore the difficult theme of man’s identity point toward a human race that is very far from being basically, or essentially, good.

Gaston Leroux’s The Phantom of the Opera is the story of a deformed man, Erik, who hides his face behind a mask. The mask, his physical covering, symbolizes his need to hide his soul from the world. Because his face is hideously ugly, Erik has been scorned and mocked by society ever since he was a child. No one, not even his own mother, has ever loved him, and very few people have ever pitied him. Erik is a gifted man, but he is also twisted; his genius is exceeded only by his hatred for those who have persecuted him.

This character Gaston Leroux presents to his readers is a paradox. Erik has a sensitive soul and a brilliant mind, yet he is also malicious, vengeful, and even evil. Erik’s mask symbolizes this duality. There are two parts to his nature – the part Erik presents to the world and the part he must hide. Just as his mask is a symbol of his paradoxical character, Erik himself represents something greater than himself.

Included in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Broadway adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera is a song entitled “Masquerade.” An entire chorus sings the words of this song:

<>“Masquerade!
<>Paper faces on parade!
<>Masquerade!
Hide your face so the world will never find you
Masquerade! <>
<>Every face a different shade!
<>Masquerade!
<>Look around, there’s another mask behind you.”

Erik wears a mask because he has to hide himself. Perhaps, suggests this song, everyone else has to hide a part of themselves, too. Perhaps this dual nature, this paradox, is not unique to Erik but applies to everyone. Perhaps everyone wears a mask.

Another literary work that makes this same suggestion is The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson. In this story, the idea of man having a dual nature, part good and part bad, is even more pronounced. A good question to ask about Stevenson’s story is, “Is it about one man, or two?” The Broadway version of this classic has a song entitled “Façade,” which begins with the following words:

<>“There’s a face that we wear
<>In the cold light of day;
<>It’s society’s mask,
It’s society’s way.
And the truth is,
That it’s all a façade.”

Dr. Jekyll is a sober, respectable scientist who makes an incredible discovery. All his life has felt as though there were two nature’s warring inside of him, each wanting control of his life. Through much research, Dr, Jekyll discovers that he can separate these two natures. He can, essentially, turn himself into two different people – the good Dr. Jekyll and the evil Mr. Hyde. He doesn’t have to deal with the conflict between his two “selves” anymore; instead, he can switch personalities at will. In the end, Dr. Jekyll dies, tragically, because of his experimentation.

The point Stevenson made in this story is that there is a definite “dark,” or “evil” side to human nature. There is also a very real danger of the evil side gaining control. According to Stevenson, it’s naïve and dangerous to declare that man is basically good and to claim that, under the proper conditions, he will do the right things. Human nature is not that simple.

Gaston Leroux presented us with a man behind a mask, and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s interpretation suggests that not only Erik, but nearly everyone else, has a “paper face on parade.” The question is, what does everyone have to hide? Robert Louis Stevenson provides an answer to this question: we have to hide the evil desires warring within us.

Both of these interpretations of man’s complex nature raise more questions than they answer. Where does our “evil” come from? Should we hide it? Can we solve our problem? Are we doomed to struggle all our lives?

Leroux and Stevenson’s works imply something very important. Man isn’t “basically good.” If he were, there would be no need for a “masquerade” or “façade” to hide his true self. There would be no violent struggle between good and evil within people’s hearts. But there is, and no simple interpretation can explain who man is, why he behaves the way he does, and how he can find peace.

As CS Lewis wrote, “The problem isn’t simple, and the answer isn’t going to be simple, either.”

The Babel Fish

2006-05-11T17:00:00.000-04:00

One of these days I'll actually write something of my own and post it. Tomorrow, hopefully. The scene below is rather pointless, but I thought it was quite, quite funny.

From The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams

(The Babel fish is an incredibly useful animal that allows anyone who sticks it in her or her ear to understand any language at all.)

“Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mind-bogglingly useful should have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as a final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God.

“The argument goes something like this: ‘I refuse to prove that I exist,’ says God, ‘for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.’

“’But,’ says Man, ‘the Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn’t it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don’t. QED.’

“’Oh dear,’ says God, ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.

“’Oh, that was easy,’ says man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed at the next pedestrian crossing.”

Literature and Discussion: Crucial Companions to Great Writing, by Adam Andrews

2006-05-10T21:57:00.000-04:00

“Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man.” – Francis Bacon

Writing teachers often haul out this quote to remind kids how important writing is, and with good reason; writing alone forces the student to choose one word over another; to weigh the relative merits of the two and decide which one is best. Writing alone empowers a student to express himself in such a way that he cannot be misunderstood.

However, Bacon’s quote has other pearls of wisdom that writing teachers would do well to heed. Though writing makes an exact man, reading and discussion (conference) make a full ready one. Reading and discussion force the writer to choose one idea over another, to weigh their relative merits in the crucible of conversation and decide which one is best. Reading and discussion supply the writer with raw materials to build and express his own opinions.

In reading, we confront and acquire ideas. In discussion, we evaluate and judge them. In writing, we express our judgments persuasively, with grace and power. Perhaps this is what Bacon meant: that reading, discussion and writing, when pursued together, make a complete man.

Classic Literature: A Storehouse of Great Ideas

What then should the aspiring writer read? Classic literature, of course. Here, in every genre and at every level, the student finds ideas beautifully expressed. Even in this age of information, classic literature remains the purest avenue to worlds of experience beyond our own.

Because it beautifully portrays tragedy, pathos, and wonder of the human condition, great literature is a mine of riches for the writer in search of ideas. Shakespeare’s Hamlet, for example, is the source of dozens of terrific discussion questions about human nature: What is heroism? What should loyalty require? Is a man bound by fate, or does he determine is own destiny?

Young writers taught to join in discussions like these will soon be able to participate in what Mortimer Adler called “the great conversation” – a dialogue the human race has been carrying on with itself since the dawn of history. It is a dialogue about ideas, including God, honor, duty, justice, revenge, loyalty, free will, happiness, friendship, and peace. The record of this dialogue is preserved for us in classic literature, the best writing of history’s most thoughtful men.

Consistent interaction with classic literature will eventually bring a sense of perspective to a student’s writing that would otherwise be unavailable to him. He will never again ask himself, “What should I write about?”, for the wisdom of the ages will be at his fingertips. Writing will have ceased to be an assignment; will have become an impulse, the inevitable result of reading and conversation about ideas.

But how? An understanding of a classic book’s basic themes and structural components, coupled with a passing knowledge of the literary devices used by the author, gives a growing writer plenty of ideas when the next assignment comes along. More than that, however, a literary education supplies him with intellectual tools: tools of analysis, evaluation, and judgment. These are critical in developing writers who not only write with cogent form and sparkling style but also with understanding and conviction. How can best supply this things? By looking to the classics ourselves – not for content this time, but for method.

Socratic Discussion

It turns out that the best classroom technique for developing the mental habits of analysis, evaluation, and judgment in students is almost as old as literature itself. The Socratic method (named for Socrates, the Greek philosopher who made it famous in the 5^th century B.C.) is based on the simple technique of asking questions.

The teacher begins with a general question about the topic at hand, and follows a student’s answer with another question designed to demonstrate the full implications of that answer and suggest a more fruitful line of reasoning. Because the Socratic method begins with and consists primarily of questions, students are never told what to think before they have a chance to develop their own powers of observation, deduction, and evaluation. Asking a student questions involves him immediately in the learning process, rather than putting him in the position of the passive note-taker. He is responsible for the discussion, not the test; therefore, he is less interested in “the answer” than in the theme or idea that is to be discussed. In this way, the Socratic method encourages good reading, and helps make better writers, too.

The Socratic method also allows parents and teachers to put literature in the service of character. Because the method itself does not tell students what to think about literature, parents play a large role in defining the boundaries of acceptable content for their students. The Socratic method will produce observant, thoughtful students who can discuss and evaluate literature from the perspective of any worldview.

Bethinking

2006-05-09T07:00:00.000-04:00

I came across a delightful website via my comments section: Bethinking.org.

Bethinking.org is dedicated to promoting apologetics, to providing cultural analysis from a Christian perspective, and to inspiring Christians to engage the culture. There is a spate of excellent articles on all sybjects, including one about Jane Austen's worldview.

Bethinking.org

Cutting the Gordian Knot...Literary Geometry

2006-04-30T22:54:00.000-04:00

It is a great thing to be able to discuss two of my favorite subjects in one article. Math and literature may not seem to coincide, but in actuality, the two areas share a lot of common ground. I love math, and I love literature, so I especially love reading books in which authors use mathematical truths (especially in the area of geometry) to enhance their stories. There are rare times in which an author will write directly about math, as in “Euclid Alone Hath Looked on Beauty Bare,” Edna St. Vincent Millay’s sonnet in praise of geometry. However, math makes most if its literary appearances in the form of metaphor. Authors often use shapes (the line, the angle, the circle) as metaphors to develop their descriptions of characters and events.

Biblical authors, including Solomon and Paul, used the line as a metaphor to discuss goodness and evil. Typically, a straight line is representative of goodness and obedience, while a crooked one symbolizes departure from righteousness. Solomon’s famous proverb is one example: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” In contrast, Solomon writes in Ecclesiastes 7:29, “This only have I found: God made mankind upright – but men have gone in search of many schemes.” These two verses show that God makes one’s path, or life, straight and righteous, while rebellious men scorn uprightness and seek an alternate, crooked path.

Paul makes a similar point in Philippians 2:14-15: “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved world.” Here, crookedness and depravity are synonymous. Both the New and Old Testaments employ mathematical metaphors to discuss goodness and evil, obedience and rebellion.

Another mathematical metaphor is that of the angle. In some of Robert Frost’s most famous lines, an angle represents a choice.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

This entire poem is metaphorical, for the idea of two roads converging represents different choices to be made in life. Central to the theme of the poem is the angle. The fact that two roads diverge is what forces the author to choose between them. The same mathematical metaphor in this poem is commonly used in everyday conversations about choices; people regularly speak about being at a “crossroads” and having to make a decision about which road to take. In elevated poetical language, as well as in metaphorical clichés, angles represent the need to choose between to options.

A third mathematical element that appears in literature is the circle. Circles indicate the passage of time, cycles, and repetition. Alfred Knoyles once wrote a poem entitled “Unity,” in which he asked the question “What should we doubt of the years that roll?” This poem makes the pantheistic claim that all Nature is one, and in addition, advocates the cyclical view of history that is typical of pantheism. The idea that years “roll,” that they come and go, each different, yet each the same, is at the heart of pantheism, and when authors attempt to communicate this idea, they often use the circle metaphor to emphasize their point.

Like Knoyles, William Wordsworth employed the circle metaphor in his pantheistic ode “Intimations of Mortality.”

“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting
The soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home…”

According to Wordsworth, the human soul rises and sets like the sun: it comes from God, and returns at the end of its “life.” Then, it is born once again, in an endless cycle of rising and setting, or of circling from life to death to life.

Artists use shapes to build their pictures, and mathematicians use them and study them for enjoyment and for practical reasons. We also find shapes in literature, in poems, in the Bible, and in common figures of speech. Lines, angles, and circles are powerful metaphors because all humans understand them. We all experience these shapes in our lives, so when we encounter them in literature, they can speak to us as metaphors. Many great authors and teachers have recognized this truth and used it to better communicate with their various audiences. Because so many different authors – Americans like Robert Frost, Englishman like William Wordsworth, ancient kings like Solomon, and Jewish teachers like Paul – have used shapes as metaphors with great success, we can conclude that they are universal metaphors. Shapes can impact readers from all cultures and times, and are not limited to specific peoples and regions. When math and literature intersect, the result is powerful indeed!

Impending Travels

2006-04-25T23:22:00.000-04:00

I've spent the past couple days frantically gesticulating and pretending to be an eccentric Spanish storyteller, as well as probing the depths of "life, the universe, and everything," with the philosopical problem of the one and the many.

My regional (Indiana, Kentucky, Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin) is approaching, and my mom, my sister, and I are leaving tomorrow for Chicago. We'll be gone through Sunday evening. Then, at 6 AM Monday, my dad and I will be boarding a flight for Boston. For the next week, we'll explore several east coast colleges.

It's possible that I'll be able to post a few thoughts between now and May 7th, but in the meantime, you can be watching Beauty from the Heart for a guest post that will appear before too long. You can also read my latest post, which is quite good. (I can say that because I didn't write it.)

Teleology & British Railways

2006-04-25T20:33:00.000-04:00

Currently, I'm boning up on my apologetics proper, so I started reading Ronald Nash's Faith and Reason. It's no exaggeration to say this book is reshaping my approach to apologetics. Today I came across one very interesting argument for the existence of God. I had heard this particular argument before but hadn't thought about it for a long time. Enjoy!

"In a book first published in 1963, American philosopher Richard Taylor presented a significant new variety of the teleological argument [the teleological argument says that the order and design apparent in the universe points to an intelligent designer]. He introduced his argument with an interesting example that bid his reader to imagine herself in a coach on a British train. Looking out the window, the passenger sees a large number of white stones on a hillside lying in a pattern that spells out the letters: THE BRITISH RAILWAYS WELCOMES YOU TO WALES. Should such a passenger be in a reflective mood on such an occasion, she might well begin to contemplate how those stones happened to be in that particular arrangement. It is possible that, without any intelligent being ever having anything to do with it, the stones simply rolled down the hillside over a period of many years and just happened to end up in an arrangement that resembled the letters noted above. However implausible we find the hypothesis that that arrangement of the stones was a purely accidental happening, we must admit that such a thing is logically possible. Of course, Taylor admits, the most natural reaction to seeing the stones would be a conviction that the arrangement of stones was brought about by one or more humans who intended that it communicate a message. And so, Taylor admits that there are at least two explanations for the arrangement of the stones: a natural, non-purposeful explanation and an explanation in terms of the intentions of at least one intelligent being.

”Taylor’s next step in the development of his argument is critical. Suppose, he suggests, that the passenger decides, solely on the basis of stones she sees on the hillside, that she is in fact entering Wales. Taylor is not insisting that the purposive account of the stones is in fact the true one. His argument is purely hypothetical. If the passenger infers that the stones communicate a true message, it would be quite inconsistent for her also to assume that the positioning of the stones was an accident.

“Taylor’s analysis seems thus far correct. If I were the passenger and if I thought the arrangement of the stones were a result of chance, natural forces there would be something quite bizarre about my also believing, solely on the evidence provided by the stones, that I was indeed entering Wales. But if I concluded, solely on the evidence provided by the stones, that I was entering Wales, consistency would seem to require that I also believe the arrangement of the stones was not accidental.

“But what does all this have to do with the existence of God? Taylor invites us to consider similar reasoning about our sense organs:

‘Just as it is possible for a collection of stones to present a novel and interesting arrangement on the side of a hill…so also it is possible for such things as our own organs of sense to be the accidental and unintended results, over ages of times, of perfectly impersonal, nonpurposeful forces. In fact, ever so many biologists believe that this is precisely what has happened, that our organs of sense are in no real sense purposeful things, but only appear so because of our failure to consider how they might have arisen through the normal workings of nature.’

“In the case of the stones, the simple fact that they exhibited a particular shape of pattern did not constitute proof that there was purpose or intention behind the arrangement. But then Taylor finds the opening he has been seeking. Even those individuals who view their sense organs as the product of chance, natural, and nonpurposeful forces depend on them to deliver information about the world that they regard as true. Such people, Taylor thinks, are just as inconsistent as the person who derives a true message from a nonpurposeful arrangement of stones.

‘It would be irrational for one to say both that his sensory and cognitive faculties had a natural, nonpurposeful origin and also that they reveal some truth with respect to something other than themselves, something that is not merely inferred from them. If their origin can be entirely accounted for in terms of chance variations, natural selection, and so on, then the most we can say of them is that they exist, that they are complex and wonderful in their construction, and are perhaps in other respects interesting and remarkable. We cannot say that they are, entirely by themselves, reliable guides to any truth whatsoever…If, on the other hand, we do assume that they are guides to some truths having nothing to do with themselves, then it is difficult to see how we can, consistently with that supposition, believe them to have arisen by accident, or by the ordinary workings of purposeless forces, even over ages of time.’”

A Christian Response to Art (2)

2006-04-24T14:48:00.000-04:00

There are a couple cautions and concerns regarding this position. The first is scriptural. How do we reconcile verses like Psalm 101:3 and Philippians 4:8 with this position?

Psalm 101:3: “I will set before my eyes no vile thing.”

Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.”

It would clearly taking these verses out of context if we said that because of them we should never associate with unbelievers for the purposes of evangelism. It would be an abuse of the message of these verses if we said that soldiers should never have to behold the terrible sights of war, or that we should never learn about the worldviews which oppose Christianity because they aren’t pure and lovely. In the same way, to argue that Christians ought to ignore all secular art because aspects of it aren’t noble, right, etc, is a contextual error.

Another big concern is that this attitude toward the arts is a slippery slope. It’s easy to say that one or two bad scenes in a movie don’t outweigh the artistic creativity and profundity of thought throughout the rest of it, but where do we draw the line? Surely there are aspects of art that are inappropriate?

My answer is a resounding yes. There are definitely certain artistic works (for many, an example is Brokeback Mountain) that Christians don’t need to see. The portrayal of gratuitous vulgarity can certainly outweigh technical excellence. There is a line that separates what is appropriate and what is not – it’s difficult to define that line, to be sure, but it does exist.

Notice the distinction here. It’s not the fact that the art is not Christian that makes it inappropriate; it’s the graphic portrayal of sin. Even though there are definite limits on what Christians ought to “set before their eyes,” it doesn’t change the original assertion that Christians don’t have to dismiss all art that does not promote a Christian worldview.

This has been a marvelous discussion, and I’ve enjoyed myself to no end. My whole family has gotten involved, so all of us have had the opportunity to examine our thinking. One thing about which I’ve been re-inspired is the desperate need for Christian artists. Yes, secular art can be magnificent, but it can also influence entire cultures to believe lies and to do evil. That’s the utter tragedy of misused creativity. In response to this knowledge, Christians ought to place great emphasis on the need for Christian artists and for Christian art. There are few things as influential as a skilled artist. These people have the capacity to shape the worldviews of those around them. Christians should recognize this and encourage the development of truly great Christian art however they can.

A Christian Response to Art

2006-04-22T22:46:00.000-04:00

To get some background information on this post, visit Spunky Junior's Total Truth and Addendum posts, as well as my most recent Total Truth and Creating Culture. Check out Agent Tim's series, too.

This is going to be posted in two parts, due to length. The first part sets forth my position, and second (scheduled for Monday), addresses some concerns. Your comments on this issue would be great.

Here’s the question: can we appreciate and enjoy the creative and technical excellence of art (literature, music, painting, etc), even if that art is not Christian?

I shall start by quoting Francis Schaeffer on the subject for two reasons. First, I haven’t read Nancy Pearcey, and I don’t want to abuse the context of her original post. Because Schaeffer was one of Pearcey’s primary inspirations, I hope quoting him will help me correctly address her true meaning. Second, the following quote is a perfect summary of my argument (convenient, no?).

“We are not being true to the artist as a man if we consider his art work junk simply because we differ with his outlook on life. Christian schools, Christian parents, and Christian pastors often have turned off young people at just this point. Because the schools, the pastors, and the parents did not make a distinction between technical excellence and content, the whole of much great art has been rejected with scorn or ridicule. Instead, if the artist’s technical excellence is high, he is to be praised for this, even if we differ with his worldview. Man must be treated fairly as man. Creative ability and technical excellence are therefore important criteria.”

Francis Schaeffer’s (and my) point is that we can’t evaluate art based on message or worldview alone. Worldview is one important area to examine when evaluating art, but it is not the only area. If worldview were the determining factor, then we wouldn’t be able to distinguish between “good” and “bad” Christian poetry because we would have invalidated technical excellence as a criterion for evaluating art.

In fact, in his book Art and the Bible, Schaeffer identifies four criteria for evaluating art: technical excellence, validity, worldview, and integration of content and vehicle. People can measure art against each of these criteria, and deficiency in one area doesn’t necessarily mean deficiency in all the others. Deficiency in one area certainly doesn’t have to mean the entire work of art is worthless or unworthy of study.

Where’s the impact in all this?

As both Pearcey and Schaeffer note, Christians don’t have to dismiss all art that does not promote a Christian worldview. Instead, we can separate the artistic excellence and the message from one another and view them distinctly. This means we can examine the works of Shakespeare and say, “What an amazing poet! What incredible application of man’s creativity (which is the reflection of God’s creativity)!” At the same time we can say, “Shakespeare clearly had a skewed worldview. It’s a tragedy that his art reflects the severe shortcomings in his thinking.”
It follows, then, that analysis of secular art (within reasonable limits) is perfectly acceptable. Since many of the world’s greatest artists are secular, one of the best ways to learn how to create Christian art is to study their technique. I must admit that I have a vested interest in this issue because analysis of secular art, including both worldview and stylistic analysis, is a big part of my vision for Rhetorical Response.

Total Truth and Creating Culture

2006-04-20T11:05:00.000-04:00

“The best way to drive out a bad world-view is by offering a good one, and Christians need to move beyond criticizing the culture to creating culture.”

There's an enthralling discussion developing at Spunky Junior and Agent Tim Online.

It started when Kristin and Katie posted a quote from Nancy Pearcey's book Total Truth and analyzed her perspective in Christians relating to worldly culture. The post itself is wonderful, and the posts in the comment section have raised some excellent points.

In response, Tim has started a series about compassion for the lost, building on the same Pearcey quote. Check out the comments there, too.

In my opinion, this issue is the most important one for evangelical Christians to be discussing today. This issue also strikes at the heart of why I maintain this blog. The question is, how should Christians respond and relate to culture?

Below is the original Nancy Pearcey quote that started the discussion. Read it and ponder it. Do you agree or disagree? Let me know. I'm working in a response as well.

Artists are often the barometers of society, and by analyzing the world-views embedded in their works we can learn a great deal about how to address the modern mind more effectively. Yet many Christians critique culture one-dimensionally, from a moral perspective alone, and as a result they come across as negative and condeming. At a Christian college, I once took an English course from a professor whose idea of critiquing classic works of literature was to tabulate how many times the characters used bad language or engaged in illicit sexual relations. He seemed blind to the books' literary quality - whether or not they were good as literature. Nor did he teach us how to detect the worldviews expressed there. Similarly, a Christian radio personality recently wagged a stern finger at Elvis Presley for the immoral content of his songs, without ever asking whether his songs were good as music (which they certainly were), or raising other worldview questions, such as why popular culture has a powerful impact. When the only form of cultural commentary Christians offer is moral condemnation, no wonder we come across to non-believers as angry and scolding.
Our first response to the great works of human culture-whether in art or technology or economic productivity---should be to celebrate them as reflections of God’s own creativity.

Euclid Alone Has Looked on Beauty Bare

2006-04-19T17:19:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about the connection between geometry and literature lately, so when I came across this poem, it delighted my heart.

Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare.
Let all that prate of Beauty hold their peace.
And lay them prone upon the earth, and cease
To ponder on themselves, the while they stare
At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere
In shapes of shifting lineage. Let geese
Gabble and hiss, but heroes seek release
From dusty bondage into luminous air.
Oh, blinding hour - oh, holy, terrible day,
When first the shaft into his vision shone
Of lithgt anatomized! Euclid alone
Has looked on Beauty bare; fortunate they
Who though once only, and then but far away
Have heard her massive sandal set on stone.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

The Power of Resurrection (2)

2006-04-17T14:21:00.000-04:00

FYI - Regenerate Our Culture's new issue is published. This time, it's all about government. Check out my article.

Here are some examples of the resurrection metaphor in literature. Thank you to those who commented about A Tale of Two Cities - I wouldn't have thought of that one.

The Chronicles of Narnia

<>CS Lewis’ great work of symbolic children’s fiction, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, is one of the most obvious examples of the resurrection metaphor in literature. The story’s Christ-figure, the lion Aslan, surrenders his life in order to redeem Edmund, a sinner in the evil White Witch’s power. On the dawn of the day after his execution, Aslan reappears, alive and well, to help the Narnians defeat the White Witch’s army.

The great thing about The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is that it more deliberately reflects the biblical account of the resurrection than nearly any other literary work. Some of the details Lewis used to accomplish this include the cracking of the stone table and Susan and Lucy’s role in his resurrection. The stone table splits in two when Aslan conquers death, much like the veil covering the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple was rent in two when Jesus died. Susan and Lucy’s presence at Aslan’s resurrection is reminiscent of the women at Jesus’ tomb on Easter morning.

Lewis’ symbolism goes even deeper than this. The Bible employs several metaphors in both the Old and New Testaments to help its readers understand the significance of the resurrection. The prophet Ezekiel writes: “I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. (11:19)” This, essentially, is a description of salvation: God removes hearts of stone and gives hearts of flesh in return. The book of Romans makes it clear that salvation is also a form of resurrection: “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. (6:4)” So biblically, there is a correlation between resurrection and salvation, and one metaphor to help us understand this relationship is that of replacing hearts of stone with hearts of flesh. Lewis capitalized upon this relationship in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe when he describes Aslan entering the White Witch’s palace and breathing upon the figures whom she had turned to stone. The resurrected Aslan breathes on figures of stone and turns them into figures of flesh: he brings them from a state of death into a new life.

Crime and Punishment

Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, is a tale that takes the reader through the horrors of sin and the guilt it causes and that ends with a triumphant “resurrection.” In a moment of irrational hatred, the main character Rodya, a poor university student, murders one of his creditors. After committing the crime, he has to deal with his conscience. Ultimately, guilt tortures Rodya more than any legal punishment could do, so he surrenders himself to the police. He spends years working in a labor camp for criminals, and at the end of the story, he is released. On Easter morning, Rodya leaves his prison, goes to marry his beloved, and steps into a new life, free from guilt and condemnation.

Fairy Tales

There are numerous stories in which a beautiful princess trapped in an enchantment must sleep until true love’s first kiss awakens her. This sleep symbolizes death, and its hold can be broken only by the power of a pure love. Then and only then can the princess live once again. This story line has been popular for centuries: countless young children, influenced by Disney movies such as Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, grow up delighting in this type of fairy tale.

A Tale of Two Cities

Sidney Carton, one of Charles Dickens’ most famous heroes, is at the center of the resurrection metaphor in A Tale of Two Cities. By sacrificing his own life for those whom he loves, Sidney redeems himself and atones for his many sins. As he goes to his death, he sees that his sacrifice will bring him great honor and glory. He sees that his friends will name a child after him, and that this child will grow up to do things that he himself never could have done. Though Sidney will die, his name will not.

Arthurian Legends

The stories say that the Lady of the Lake took the legendary King Arthur, who died because of his own family’s betrayal, to the mysterious Isle of Avalon, from whence he will return someday to help England in her greatest hour of need. The pathos of this story has inspired many authors to create their own versions of the Arthurian legend.

Metamorphosis

Franz Kafka’s novella Metamorphosis is an inverted, or perverted, resurrection story. Unlike Lewis’ work, which purposely reflects the biblical account in order to complement it, Kafka used biblical imagery to propagate a message in direct opposition to biblical Christianity. The very name of the story implies a

change from the lesser to the greater: it capitalizes upon the frequent comparison between a butterfly’s metamorphosis and the resurrection which gives new life. However, the metamorphosis in the story occurs when the main character Gregor wakes up one day to find that he has turned into a cockroach.

This story is freakish because, as Edward Ericson writes, “Kafka writes on this side of Nietzsche’s terrible pronouncement that God is dead, relentlessly showing us that with the death of God comes the death of humanity.” In Kafka’s world, the resurrection never happened: God was dead, once and for all. As a result, mankind could not walk in a new, better life. Instead, he was doomed to a hopeless, sub-human existence.

The Power of Resurrection

2006-04-14T22:19:00.000-04:00

This week I'm pondering how prevalent the theme of resurrection is in literature. From folk tales and Disney movies to Dostoyevsky's novels, authors and story tellers have recognized and employed this theme in their works.

At present I'm working on a more detailed post exploring some specific examples. What books have you all read that employ resurrection as a theme, metaphor, or symbol?

GK Chesterton's "The Convert"

2006-04-11T18:44:00.000-04:00

I read this GK Chesterton sonnet last week, and it's even more meaningful this week, as Easter approaches. I hope you like it.

The Convert

After one moment when I bowed my head
And the whole world turned over and came upright,
And I came out where the old road shone white,
I walked the ways and heard what all men said,
Forests of tongues, like autumn leaves unshed,
Being not unlovable but strange and light;
Old riddles and new creeds, not in despite
But softly, as men smile about the dead.

The sages have a hundred maps to give
That trace their crawling cosmos like a tree,
They rattle reason out through many a sieve
That stores the sand and lets the gold go free:
And all these things are less than dust to me
Because my name is Lazarus and I live.

--GK Chesterton

Christian Music

2006-04-09T21:02:00.000-04:00

There's some excellent discussion about the nature of Christian music in the blogosphere right now, principally in these two posts (1 & 2) by Tim Challies of Challies.com. The question of what constitutes Christian music, as well as what constitutes excellent music, is one that fascinates me, and I wish I had more time to really participate in the discussion and research this topic. As it is, I can only read what others have written and pass the information on to you.

Thank you to Kristin of Spunky Junior - her great post clued me in to this discussion.

Two Proposals

2006-04-08T18:10:00.000-04:00

Elizabeth Bennett is really unlucky. In only a few months, she receives two of the most insensitive and rudest marriage proposals in all of literature. First her ridiculous cousin Mr. Collins asks for her hand, and soon after refusing him, Elizabeth receives another proposal from her proud and selfish acquaintance Mr. Darcy, which she also refuses. These two proposals seem to be different in every way, just as the two characters who deliver them are different. However, both the insincere flattery of Mr. Collins’ proposal and the insulting honesty of Mr. Darcy’s reflect a conceited certainty of being accepted. This certainty, founded on social and financial security, is what most angers Elizabeth about these two offers.

Mr. Collins begins his suit by assuring Elizabeth that she can be in no doubt of his intentions, and then launches into a soliloquy explaining his reasons for marriage in general – so he, a clergyman, can set a good example, secure his own happiness, and fulfill the wishes of his authoritarian patroness – and in particular – so he can mend a long standing feud with the Bennett family. He assures Elizabeth that, after they are married, he will never reproach her for having a small fortune and dowry. Clearly, he has no real affection for her and no doubt that she will accept him, either.

Insulted and uncomfortable, Elizabeth tries to give Mr. Collins a civil answer, but he cannot believe that she is actually refusing him because “it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favor; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time.”

Poor Elizabeth replies: “Really, Mr. Collins, you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one.”

Though Elizabeth refuses Mr. Collins no less than five times, he is still unable to believe that she does not mean to marry him. “…it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications…I must therefore conclude you are not serious in your rejection of me…”

Eventually, when Elizabeth’s parents convince Mr. Collins that he has been repulsed, he subsides into silence and resentment. Despite his insincere, self-centered, and pompous proposal, it never occurred to Mr. Collins that he was in any danger of Elizabeth’s rejection, simply because his position in life was more secure than hers. His vanity never allowed him to consider it.
The form of Mr. Darcy’s proposal to Elizabeth is radically different, though the underlying assumption is nearly identical to the one that characterized Mr. Collins’ address. Mr. Darcy’s feelings for Elizabeth are very real, and he is a very different man than Mr. Collins. He is richer, more intelligent, and far better able to present himself. Instead of beginning by reciting his reasons for matrimony, he immediately tells Elizabeth he is in love with her, and then proceeds to expound, also making it clear that marrying her is a great sacrifice on his part because of her small fortune and low connections.

This speech offends Elizabeth even more deeply than Mr. Collins’ did. Still, she tries to refuse Mr. Darcy civilly, but when he angrily asks for an explanation, she realizes that he never considered the possibility of rejection any more than Mr. Collins did. Angered by his smug confidence, she recites all the reasons why she has no respect for him. Finally, Mr. Darcy angrily exclaims:

“This is the estimation in which you hold me! My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride not been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that has long prevented my forming any serious design.”

To this Elizabeth replies: “You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.” After mutually offending and hurting one another, Elizabeth and Darcy separate to fume in solitude. Despite his selfishness and pride, Mr. Darcy really does love Elizabeth, yet he made the same mistake as Mr. Collins: he assumed that she would be willing to marry anyone in exchange for security and comfort.

Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy are two extremes. In their social positions, one is a clergyman, working for his living and depending on the patronage of the local gentry while the other is wealthy, independent, and respected. They also differ in their characters: Collins lacks wit, tact, sincerity, and manners; Darcy, though reserved, possesses all these things, as well as a strong sense of honor and obligation. A representation of all that is obsequious and insincere, Mr. Collins does not really care for Elizabeth at all. Mr. Darcy may be insulting, but he is also honest, and loves Elizabeth a great deal. The differences between Collins and Darcy only serve to make Jane Austen’s point clearer.

The many different parts of the society in which Austen lived all assumed the same thing as Elizabeth’s suitors. Nearly every member of English society, the Collinses and Darcys alike, believed that security and comfort were the prime considerations in marriage proposals, rather than respect, affection, or character. Through her character Elizabeth Bennett, Jane Austen expressed her conviction that, though this belief was widely accepted, it was neither reasonable nor right.

In Defense of Jane Austen

2006-04-07T17:23:00.000-04:00

Some critics say Jane Austen was a novelist who wrote only about every-day occurrences and unexciting people. They criticize her for writing about the happenings in her confined world, claiming that her works don’t have widespread appeal due to their narrow scope. As a passionate devotee to Austen works, both large and small, I feel compelled to defend her brilliant novels. She was far from being a boring writer who only understood boring subjects. It is true that Jane Austen’s world was relatively small, but the world she described in her novels has universal and timeless appeal.

Here are five reasons why Jane Austen’s novels (and, in particular, Pride and Prejudice) are great works of art worthy of the term “classic.”

First, Austen created characters of true depth and believability. Readers understand the feelings and desires of the Misses Bennett, of the Dashwood sisters, and of the only child Emma Woodhouse. These women are truly three-dimensional; they possess a depth and a color, a reality, rarely seen in novels written during Austen’s life. These characters are so believable that people the world over identify with them. Writing from experience, I imagine most women over the age of thirteen fancy themselves an Eliza, and Emma, an Eleanor, or a Marianne. When an author can create characters that move readers hundreds of years later, it cannot be said that these characters are boring, flat, or unexciting.

Jane Austen’s characters are also strong and noble. The protagonists display character qualities that make them universally admired, respected, and loved. Mr. Darcy is an ideal big brother and protector. Jane Bennett is calm, serene, forgiving, and loving. Elizabeth Bennett is principled and able to view the flaws of those around her realistically, yet without cynicism. Mr. Knightly is both noble and humble. Eleanor Dashwood is a strong, graceful woman, capable of feeling deeply without letting her emotions rule her. And the list continues. Austen knew how to present characters with such nobility and strength that they inspired others.

In addition to her characters, Jane Ausen incorporated archetypal themes into her works. She wrote about love, man’s conflict with society, jealousy and revenge, betrayal, and sacrifice. Though the scope of her writing didn’t encompass historical places and events, and though she never created exotic scenes, her stories, because of their potent themes, have as much power as stories with more dramatic settings.

A fourth reason for the greatness of Jane Austen’s stories is that they were meant for more than entertainment. She was a social critic, unhappy with many of the conventions of her culture, and she made her books a vehicle for satire. Her stories criticize marriages of convenience, snobbery, and pettiness. One of her most sickening characters is Mr. Collins, a cousin of Elizabeth Bennett. Mr. Collins lives with the belief that people with titles are superior to those without, and this causes him to kowtow to his patroness, Lady Catherine de Burgh. When she tells him to find a wife, he does. When she tells him to redesign his home, he does. When she invites him to her home, he makes himself ill worrying that he will be late and make her unhappy. Austen criticizes all these attitudes in Pride and Prejudice as she eviscerates the ridiculous, pathetic Mr. Collins.

Finally, Jane Austen’s depth and strength of characterization, her masterful use of beloved themes, and her bold satire are complemented by her sense of humor. Unlike Voltaire, her fiction is not biting and cruel, though it criticizes. She gives pathos and humor to even her most silly characters so that her stories are both delightful and insightful. One of her most ridiculous characters is Miss Bates, a spinster who never stops talking and never says anything worth hearing. She lacks education and refinement and she makes a fool of herself regularly, and yet, there is a humorous and sweet quality to her character that makes her somehow endearing.

Jane Austen is a wonder, but not because she managed to become popular in spite of her boring stories. She is a wonder because despite her confined life and narrow experience, she understood a full range of human emotions, desires, and eccentricities. Further, she had the ability to give her understanding fictional shape and to fashion it into beautiful, delightful, and insightful novels that are among the greatest the world has to offer.

Pride & Prejudice

2006-04-06T15:18:00.000-04:00

Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice has it all: archetypal themes, humor, satire, characterization, plot, conflict, romance, relevance, and a happy ending. As a novel, it is not as philosophical as the Brothers Karamazov, by Fyoder Dostoyevsky or as heavy as Wuthering Heights, by Charlotte Bronte, but it is well written, witty, perceptive, and charming.

Personally, I love the novel because I can see similarities between Austen’s colorful characters and the people around me (including myself). The relational dynamics between the sisters in Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, for example, are perfect.

For those who don’t know the story, you can read a summary and a bit of commentary here.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession if a large fortune must be in want of a wife."

History

2006-04-05T17:32:00.000-04:00

“The study of history is a powerful antidote to contemporary arrogance. It is humbling to discover how many of our glib assumptions, which seem to us novel and plausible, have been tested before, not once but many times and in innumerable guises; and discovered to be, at great human cost, wholly false.”
-- Paul Johnson

The Golden Thread

2006-04-05T11:39:00.000-04:00

The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.

Throughout history, many influential authors, speakers, and politicians have recognized how much power domestic women wield. To be a homemaker is to be a culture-shaper: wives and mothers create an atmosphere in their home that influences and molds their children and husbands. One of the more striking expressions of this principle in literature is the contrast between the lives of Lucie and Madame Defarge in Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. Lucie uses her feminine influence to bring life and hope to her family while Madame Defarge with her grim, ever-present knitting uses her influence to take these things away.

Dickens describes Lucie in this way: “ever busily winding the golden thread which bound her husband and her father and herself…in a life of quiet bliss.” In the opening chapters of the story, Lucie bravely travels across the English Channel to France and brings her father, a prisoner recently released from the Bastille, back across the channel to safety. Her father, Dr. Manette, has been in prison so long that he has gone partially mad, but Lucie’s unconditional love and care manages to heal him.

Later, Lucie marries a French immigrant named Charles Darnay. She has a child and spends years bringing her family and friends closer together. The most dramatic consequence of Lucie’s influence is the power she exerts of the profligate lawyer Sidney Carton. At the end of the story Sydney dies a heroic death, redeeming himself, because of his devotion to Lucie. In the lives of her father, husband, child, and friend, Lucie is a beautiful influence. She encourages and inspires those with whom she lives. She is truly a masterful weaver of “the golden thread.”

When characterizing Madame Defarge, the wife of a wine-shop keeper, Dickens continues to use the thread metaphor. Madame Defarge is always knitting, but her knitting does not encourage others; instead, she uses it to keep a record of all the wrongs she observes so she can wreak vengeance at the proper time. Her life is centered around revenge, and she spends her time making others miserable rather than inspiring and encouraging them. Madame Defarge Hates Lucie’s husband, Charles Darnay, simply because his uncle was a cruel member of the French aristocracy. Since Charles’ uncle is dead, she desires to punish Charles instead, though he is innocent. Unlike Lucie, Madame Defarge is childless. She is not the type of woman to use her influence to give life; she uses hers to take it away, and her barrenness is symbolic of her character. While Lucie is always urging those around her to better themselves, Madame Defarge controls her husband and his friends (Jacques 1, Jacques 2, and Jacques 3), manipulating them and using them to make her desire for vengeance a reality.

Both Lucie and Madame Defarge possess a good deal of influence, but each woman uses it in radically different ways. Lucie is a source of life, hope, and goodness. Madame Defarge creates an atmosphere of vengeance and hatred that leads to injustice and cruelty. At the end of his story, both women are rewarded according to their work. In an attempt to execute Lucie’s husband, Madame Defarge loses her own life, while Lucie escapes the Reign of Terror with her father, husband, and child. Though each woman is, in her own way, powerful, the power of Lucie’s goodness is greater than Madame Defarge’s hate.

ROC Issue #2

2006-04-01T17:55:00.000-05:00

I'm excited and pleased to note that the second issue of Regenerate Our Culture's webzine was published today. The theme of this issue is Creation v. Evolution, and there are great articles about Social Darwinsism, the scientific evidence for creation, and the relation between Creationism and the sanctity of human life. There are also pieces about Scripture, CS Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, and competitive speech and debate.

Alex, Tim, Kristin, Jake, and their dedicated team have worked hard to develop this issue of the magazine -- thank you.

It was very...intelligently designed...

Ouch.

The Law and the Revolution

2006-03-30T12:20:00.000-05:00

According to Frederic Bastiat, one of the most terrible consequences of diverting the law from its original purpose (to uphold the individual’s rights to life, liberty, and property) is that the people’s idea of justice is corrupted. When the law becomes a vehicle for ‘legal plunder,’ or for taking from one person without his consent to benefit another person, the people forget that true justice means upholding individual rights and that legal plunder is a violation of the individual’s right to property. Legal plunder becomes synonymous with law and justice, and everyone wants to become involved with the government, not to uphold what is right, but in order to get a share of the plunder.

The situation Charles Dickens presented in A Tale of Two Cities is very similar to the one Bastiat described in The Law. The French peasants rebelled against the oppressive aristocracy, claiming that they wanted liberty, equality, and brotherhood, but because they had lived under a system of legal plunder for their whole lives, they didn’t understand the nature of justice. Though their rebellion was successful at first, the peasants became as cruel as their former oppressors.

The French people thought that the system of legal plunder could be used to serve their vision of a great society. They wanted food and work and housing, and they believed they could use the law to mandate that everyone received an equal share of the nation’s wealth. More than they wanted to defend and uphold the inalienable rights due to every human, they wanted to use the established system of legal plunder to accomplish their own goals. Ultimately, this flawed conception of what constitutes a just government led to terrible excesses, oligarchy, and the rise of Emperor Napoleon.

Dickens’ portrayal of the French revolution clearly shows that neither the aristocracy’s system nor the peasants’ system could enforce justice in the real world, and Bastiat’s The Law shows why: though different in many ways, both groups shared the desire to use the government and the law as an instrument of legal plunder rather than a way to defend justice.

About A Tale of Two Cities

2006-03-29T19:00:00.000-05:00

You can read a plot overview here.

Also, here is some contextual background on the work (from Sparknotes). Charles Dickens, like Mary Shelley, wrote during the time of the Industrial Revolution.

"Charles Dickens was born in Portsmouth, England in 1812. As the second of eight children in a very poor family, he lived a difficult childhood. Eventually, his father was sent to debtor’s prison, and Dickens himself went to work at the age of twelve to help pay off the family’s debt. This troublesome time scarred Dickens deeply and provided him with substantial material for such stories as Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, and David Copperfield. Steeped in social criticism, Dickens’s writing provides a keen, sympathetic chronicle of the plight of the urban poor in nineteenth-century England. During his lifetime, Dickens enjoyed immense popularity, in part because of his vivid characterizations, and in part because he published his novels in installments, making them readily affordable to a greater number of people.

"The Industrial Revolution, which swept through Europe in the late eighteenth century, originated in England. The rapid modernization of the English economy involved a shift from rural handicraft to large-scale factory labor. Technological innovations facilitated unprecedented heights of manufacture and trade, and England left behind its localized, cottage-industry economy to become a centralized, hyper-capitalist juggernaut of mass production. In tandem with this transformation came a significant shift in the nation’s demographics. English cities swelled as a growing and impoverished working class flocked to them in search of work. As this influx of workers into urban centers continued, the bourgeois took advantage of the surplus of labor by keeping wages low. The poor thus remained poor, and often lived cramped in squalor. In many of his novels, Dickens chronicles his protagonists’ attempts to fight their way out of such poverty and despair."

Selections from The Law, by Frederic Bastiat

2006-03-27T12:28:00.000-05:00

‘Claude Frederic Bastiat was a French economist, legislator, and writer who championed private property, free markets, and limited government.’ He lived from 1801 to 1850, which meant he experienced the effect the French Revolution and its aftermath has on France and Europe. He observed first hand various political theories: rule of law, democracy, monarchy, and socialism. He chose to criticize some of the most respected French thinkers of his time (including Jean Jacques Rousseau), and history has demonstrated much of what he wrote to be correct.

I read his small book The Law a couple of days ago and was struck by its relevance – to the time in which Bastiat lived and to our own.

The Basis of Law:

‘Life, liberty, and property do not exist because men have made laws. On the contrary, it was the fact that life, liberty, and property existed beforehand that caused men to make laws in the first place….What, then, is law? It is the collective organization of the individual right to lawful defense….If every person has the right to defend – even by force – his person, his liberty, and his property, then it follows that a group of men have the right to organize and support a common force to protect these rights constantly.’

The Obstacle to Law:

‘When they [people] can, they wish to life and prosper at the expense of others….The annals of history bear witness to the truth of it: incessant wars, mass migrations, religious persecutions, slavery, dishonesty in commerce, and monopolies. This fatal desire has its origin in the very nature of man…a man may live and satisfy his wants by seizing and consuming the products of the labor of others. This process is the origin of plunder….men will resort to plunder whenever plunder is easier than work.’

The Problem with Law:

All the measures of the law should protect property and punish plunder. But, generally, the law is made by one man or one class of men. And since law cannot operate without the sanction and support of a dominating force, this force must be entrusted to those who make the laws. This fact, combined with the fatal tendency that exists in the heart of man to satisfy his wants with the least possible effort, explains the almost universal perversion of the law. Thus it is easy to understand how law, instead of checking injustice, becomes the invincible weapon of injustice….It is impossible to introduce into society a greater change and a greater evil than this: the conversion of the law into an instrument of plunder….it erases from everyone’s conscience the distinction between justice and injustice.’

Results of Perverted Law:

‘Under the pretense of organization, regulation, protection, or encouragement, the law takes the property from one person and gives it to another…Under these circumstances, everyone will aspire to grasp the law, and logically so….we would like to use the law for our own profit. We demand from the law the right to relief, which is the poor man’s plunder.

‘As long as it is admitted that the law may be diverted from its true purpose – that it may violate property instead of protecting it – then everyone will want to participate in making the law, either to protect himself against plunder or to use it for plunder. Political questions will always by prejudicial, dominant, and all-absorbing.’

The Fear of the Lord...

2006-03-25T20:47:00.001-05:00

My new favorite sentence comes from Greg Bahsen's book Always Ready. Dr. Bahnsen writes, 'Autonomy and understanding are mutually exclusive.'

This powerful sentence is really just a re-statement of Proverbs 9:10: 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.' This is more than a figurative proverb; it's literally true. Outside of the Christian worldview, knowledge is impossible. If an unbeliever was to abide consistently by his presuppositions, he would be forced to admit that he could never know anything for certain. Only through inconsistency can unbelievers have true knowledge. All philosophies other than Christianity are dead-ends; they cannot provide a rational basis for knowledge. Thus, mankind cannot seek knowledge of reality autonomously and hope for success. To gain actual, certain knowledge, to gain understanding, he must give up autonomy and accept God’s revelation.

In light of this, the sin by which mankind originally fell was totally irrational. Satan told Eve she could gain knowledge outside of God. He tempted her based on the lie that she could gain understanding through autonomy.

As CS Lewis wrote in The Problem of Pain:

'They [Adam and Eve] wanted to call their souls their own, but that is to live a lie, for our souls are not, in fact, our own. They wanted some corner of the universe of which they could say to God “This is our business, not yours.” But there is no such corner. They wanted to be nouns, but they were, and eternally must be, mere adjectives.'

No matter how apostate man struggles to divorce knowledge of self and of the universe and its laws from the knowledge of God, he must always fail, because ‘autonomy and understanding are mutually exclusive.’

‘Believe that thou mayest understand.”

– St. Augustine

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

2006-03-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

<>God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

<>Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up His bright desires
And works His sovereign will.

<>Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

<>His purposes will ripen fast.
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower. <>

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own Interpreter
And He will make it plain.

-- William Cowper

Perspectives on Optimism

2006-03-23T12:52:00.000-05:00

'The optimist believes we live in the best of all possible worlds; the pessimist fears it is true.'
-- Irving Ceasar

As much as Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is a critique of too much faith in science, it is also a critique of optimism, or progressivism. The philosophy of optimism is what actually caused people to believe that science would lead to a near-perfect world. The idea was that all change constituted change for the better.

It's interesting that optimism is similar to Darwinism: both philosophies hold that change (biological or technical) would always lead to the betterment of mankind. Social Darwinism even argues that mankind is justified in 'helping' natural selection by eliminating non-functional members of society. (Terri Schiavo, anyone?) Ralph Waldo Emerson took the idea of change and evolution to the epistemological realm, claiming that truth, like mankind, continually evolves and that each new generation ought to reach for a 'new' and better truth. If life and truth are constantly developing, then why bother to study and learn from history? Why respect the elderly? Why value life that already exists if it will soon be superceded by that which is to come? At this point, one sees startling similarities between human life and computers: no sooner is one created than a better, more advanced version becomes available.

Optimism, Social Darwinism, and faith in science are inter-related. They all represent different aspects of the same philosophy; they’re all manifestations of man’s belief in his ability to constantly better himself without God.

‘To change and change for the better are two different things.’

-- German Proverb

Garry J. Moes writes [speaking of the Great Exhibition held in England in 1851 to showcase ‘progress’]:

‘The exhibition was a dazzling display of England’s material progress during the last century. It also reflected a new kind of faith which had arisen among men at that period – faith in ‘Progress’ itself, or as Prince Albert saw it, belief in history’s advance toward “the realization of the unity of mankind.” The philosophy of Progressivism held simply that any change from the old to the new is always a change for the good. This Age of Progress, or optimism, as it has been called, was a period in which apostate man assume new faith in himself – in his supposed ability to achieve nearly anything to which he set his mind.’

Like Father, Like Son

2006-03-22T17:28:00.000-05:00

Frankenstein as his monster’s ‘father’:

<>Despite his horror at what he created and his revulsion for the monster, Dr. Frankenstein cannot escape a measure of responsibility for its actions. Though unnaturally created, Dr. Frankenstein is still, in some sense, his monster’s father. As the monster Frankenstein’s father figure, the doctor influences its actions and desires, showing that in many ways, the monster is ‘a chip off the old block.’

Doctor and monster both share a common desire to play God, either by creating life or dispensing justice. Dr. Frankenstein’s ambition is to reach beyond what science has ever achieved and to possess the God-like power of creating life. After he succeeds, he realizes his folly, but only after it is to late. In the same way, the monster Frankenstein seeks to right the wrongs done to him by dispensing his own (divine) justice. The monster murders those who oppose him, as well as his creator’s family and friends in an attempt to uphold his twisted ideal of justice. Like his creator, he belatedly realizes the impossibility of playing God, after he has destroyed many people’s lives and happiness.

The result of playing God is the same for both Dr. Frankenstein and his monster-son. Through the doctor’s scientific meddling, many people die, and the fruit of his labor, the monster himself, is doomed to a life of misery. The monster Frankenstein’s attempts to dispense justice result in one family’s subjection to fear, harassment, and injustice. Also, because of his mischief, an innocent girl is falsely accused of murder and condemned to death. All of these actions weigh heavily upon Dr. Frankenstein (much like the excesses of a profligate son) and make him miserable as well. These two characters make one another miserable and cause others to suffer.

At the end of the story, doctor and monster alike share a common regret for their past actions. They have tried to do God’s work for him but failed. Instead, they have both ruined multiple lives. These characters ultimately realize how wrong they have been, but only when it is too late. Dr. Frankenstein’s entire family is dead, and the monster has removed himself from any hope of redemption. Their misery is so great that both hope for death. The story ends with the mutual destruction of both the doctor and his monster.

<>
As much as Dr. Frankenstein wanted to remove any memory of or association with his creation, he failed to do so. There was no way for him to escape his paternal responsibility. As much as the monster Frankenstein wanted to forget his origins and live normally, he could not overcome the nature that his father-creator had given him. Doctor and monster found themselves bound together with ties neither could break. Mary Shelley’s exploration of this bond gives the following warning: beware, for you are responsible for what you create.

Frankenstein and 'The Birthmark' (Part 2)

2006-03-21T20:09:00.000-05:00

Hawthorne’s character, Aylmer is not so tragic. Aylmer, a truly brilliant scientist, has the good fortune to be married to a selfless and supportive wife whose only flaw is a small birthmark on her cheek. Driven by his desire for perfection in all things, he develops a morbid fascination with his wife’s birthmark, upsetting her so much that she begs him to scientifically remove it so they can live in peace once more.

Aylmer agrees, and a long process of research and experimentation begins. Throughout, his wife trusts in his great ability and surrenders herself to his care. After many failed attempts, Aylmer gives his wife the strongest potion he can create. She drinks it, and miraculously, the birthmark begins to fade from her cheek. As the birthmark fades, however, so does his wife’s life. A near-perfect being, the only thing that ties her beautiful spirit to the earth is this birthmark, her one imperfection, and as it fades, her spirit leaves. Thus, Aylmer’s drive to reach perfection through science robs him of a truly precious gift.

There are many, many similarities between Dr. Frankenstein and Aylmer. Both men have a passionate love for science which borders on irrational devotion. Both are brilliant, talented, respected members of the scientific community. Both have unrealistic scientific aspirations, and both unwittingly destroy the most precious people in their lives.

Mary Shelley and Nathaniel Hawthorne both intended their main characters to symbolize the scientists of their day who believed that anything was possible with science. Through their stories these authors sought to convey the idea that there are certain issues to deep for man’s involvement. Frankenstein and ‘The Birthmark’ show the consequences of trying to control or improve upon what God has created.

Dr. Frankenstein and Aylmer are still significantly different characters, for all their similarities. Frankenstein is a classic example of hubris, or excessive pride, the character flaw that also caused the downfall of Achilles and Gilgamesh. He reaches for the absolute pinnacle of scientific power – the ability to create and manipulate life at will. Because his reach and desire are so great, his fall and subsequent misery are also great. Frankenstein dies carrying the guilt for many innocent lives.

Aylmer was a wiser man than Frankenstein. As his wife reads through his scientific journals while waiting for her husband to remove her birthmark, she discovers the depths of his humility. Aylmer realizes how many things are hidden from him and how little his science can actually accomplish. This humility saves him from bearing a sorrow as great as Frankenstein’s. Though his wife also dies, she forgives him with her last breath, and her love for him is as strong as ever. His loss is bittersweet, not as stark and total as Frankenstein’s.

The differences between these two characters also reflects Shelley and Hawthorne’s theme. Both authors felt that too much pride in science, not science itself, would ultimately lead to destruction. Aylmer’s humility is what saves him from even greater grief, while Frankenstein repeatedly blames his immense pride for all his suffering.

These two fictional works, Frankenstein and ‘The Birthmark’ are examples of wisdom and foresight. The world around Shelley and Hawthorne was enamored with the possibilities science offered, but they refused to be caught up in the craze. They both clearly saw the need for humility and care in the face of tremendous new opportunities and both proclaimed their message with talent, finesse, and clarity. Frankenstein and ‘The Birthmark’ stand in the ranks of great literary works as testaments to the perception and integrity of two writers: Mary Shelley and Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Frankenstein & 'The Birthmark' (Part 1)

2006-03-20T14:04:00.000-05:00

The Industrial Revolution in Europe and America changed the world forever. The possibilities of science became apparent to all, though the corresponding dangers were equally obvious only to some. Factories, steamboats, electricity, telephones, and cars amazed millions of people and created grandiose hopes for the future of the mechanical sciences. It seemed that there was nothing mankind could not accomplish, if given the time to study and learn. Despite the truly terrible conditions which many factory workers endured, the world’s optimism reached to dizzying heights.

Over a hundred years later, we take the optimism and hopes of the late nineteenth century with a grain of salt. The twentieth century has brought great technological progress, it is true, but it has also left the deaths of millions of innocents in its wake. Hand in hand with scientific leaps have come two world wars and the rise of oppressive dictatorships in the two largest countries on earth. It’s easy to judge in retrospect, of course, and to shake our heads at the naivety of the world’s optimism during the Industrial Revolution, but for those living in the late 1800’s, it was not at all easy to see clearly. There were some men and women who perceived the dangers associated with scientific progress, but such men and women were rare.

Two people who not only perceived danger but tried to warn others were the British author Mary Shelley and the great American writer Nathaniel Hawthorne. Both Shelly and Hawthorne wrote similar stories in an attempt to illustrate the darker side of the Industrial Revolution. Shelley penned the haunting work Frankenstein, while Hawthorne created a short story which he titled ‘The Birthmark.’ Dr. Frankenstein, the protagonist of Shelley’s novel, attempts to use science to create life and in the process destroys those closest to him. Hawthorne’s character Aylmer tries to remove his wife’s one imperfection through his command of science but ends by sacrificing her life. Both men endeavor to transcend divinely placed limits and, ultimately, both fail. However, Aylmer’s humility mitigates his loss while the result of Dr. Frankenstein’s hubris is un-relievable guilt and misery.

Dr. Frankenstein is a brilliant Swiss science student. He leaves his family to attend university and develop his skill, and while studying, he discovers the secret to creating life. Excited by his find, Frankenstein abandons himself to creating a human. He makes himself ill in his frenzy but finally succeeds in his task. However, when he views the gruesome creature that is the result of all his work, Frankenstein realizes how wrong he was to meddle with such deep science. He flees his home, leaving his creature (more accurately, monster) to fend for itself.

Months later, Frankenstein recovers from his illness, only to find that the monster he created is unspeakably evil and has murdered his younger brother. Desperately, Frankenstein tries to find and kill the product of his misguided science, but he fails, and the monster murders the rest of his family one by one, including his father and fiancé.

At his point Frankenstein is totally overcome by grief and guilt. His pride and his desire to transcend other scientists and other men has led to the total destruction of all he once held dear. A shattered and miserable man, he dies while pursuing his creation in an effort to kill it once and for all.

St. Patrick's Breastplate

2006-03-19T07:33:00.000-05:00

Written either by or in honor of St. Patrick:

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.

___________________________

Men Without Chests

2006-03-18T17:41:00.000-05:00

"We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and then bid the geldings to be fruitful."

--CS Lewis

In The Abolition of Man, CS Lewis correctly predicted the moral state of the western world. With the decline of firm belief in absolutes, the modern world has been left with a moral code that is little more than a frail shell. This code cannot stand against serious onslaughts and shatters when the need for strength and resolve is greatest.

Perhaps the most tragic example of the consequences of weakened principles is the life and death of Terri Schiavo, the woman who, one year ago, was starved to death by the will of her own husband. At a time when protecting those too weak to protect themselves ought to have been the primary concern, America's moral code betrayed some of its greatest principles: the sanctity of life and the defense of the weak and helpless.

The only way to prevent a similar tragedy is to identify the underlying causes of apathy and moral sloth. The only way to safeguard others who are unable to defend themselves is to work to restore right thinking that right living may follow. The only way to neutralize the threat posed by men without chests is to point the way to God, the one who can give new hearts to those who seem to have none.

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when your daughters cry

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Sir Thomas More

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Too Easily Pleased

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Failure to Perceive

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The Unexamined Life?

In Which I Become an Authoress, and Intern, and a Senator

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Autonomy

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Posting Doesn't Seem to Be Happening

Apologetics in Action

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The Power of Resurrection (2)

The Power of Resurrection

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The Fear of the Lord...

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

Perspectives on Optimism

Like Father, Like Son