Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Christian Classics Ethereal Library
On the sidebar I have added a resource I use often, Calvin College's "Christian Classics Ethereal Library". It has hundreds, if not thousands, of public domain classics covering nearly all of the Church Age so far. You can read them online, or download them in various common formats like Adobe and Palm and Word and Reader. It was begun and is overseen by Harry Plantinga and now a board at Calvin. Check it out, it's great!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
An Elegy for Buttercup
This morning dawned clear and cold with a scattering of snow on the ground. It will be the last morning for our beloved dog, Buttercup. At 2:30 today, the vet will come to our home and put her to sleep. I hope that she wakes up enough before then to go outside with me a last time to sniff the air.
I am not taking this very well. I have gone off to weep several times in the days since we made the decision. There is much meaning wrapped up in a dog's life; many memories. It is hard to think of it ending. It forebodes other endings.
Our animals generally live much shorter lives than we do, at least the ones we choose as pets. Why should a 65 lb dog live only 15 years and a 120 lb adult live 80? Perhaps that we might more frequently and more safely contemplate life and death, and the cycles in our lives.
My life so far has encompassed the lives of two beloved dogs. I have had others, but only two whose lives were completely involved in my own from beginning to end. Pixie was the dog of my childhood, who shared my life from age 6 until age 16, when I entered upon my adulthood and my walk with Christ. When she died, in my arms, I somehow understood that my childhood was over, and she had seen me through it. She had been my companion on many explorations of my growing world; I shared my childhood sorrows with her, and she seemed to absorb them and bear them up quietly, as dogs do. I knew, when she died, that in the next ten years my adult life would be defined. She would not be there, she had done her part. And I knew that I was entering a world in which there would be losses.
Buttercup has been the dog of my maturity, growing up with my children who now, as she dies, are entering their own adulthoods in their various ways. The six of us were her pack; she was happiest when we were all home, and would lie where we were gathered. Each night she slept beneath one of our beds, or on the corner of a sleeping bag when friends were over. We have hiked, canoed, splashed in streams, dug snow forts together. She has slept amidst my wife and children when I worked those many nights. Our windowsills are scarred from her claws; our carpets are worn with her path up the steps under the banister. She was the gentlest of dogs. She loved to have her face rubbed.
Now she is nearly gone. Those once-acute ears can no longer hear the birds, nor any but the loudest speech. Her world is quiet, and her eyes are dim. For some time she has been unable to mount the stairs, so she sleeps alone. Over the years her pack has drifted away, to college and to other new homes. Her world has become very small. Sometimes at night she will yip the lonely yip, and one of us will sleep on the couch till she falls asleep. Sometimes she is incontinent, and embarassed. She is afraid of edges.
Yet she is still there, still in time with us, even now. She does not look bad; she does not look sick. She is still warm and soft and breathing. She still likes her face rubbed, though her eyes are somewhat glazed from the pain medications. But she cannot pee and has not eaten for days. She goes outside and is puzzled why no urine will emerge.
It is an odd thing, this contemplation of her coming death. I have seen death many times, of course, but nearly always of humans. It is always mysterious. One minute there is a person there, then there is just a body. With humans, it can be approached with language. There are last words; there are understood goodbyes. In this death, she does not understand. And I cannot make her know what she has meant to me and to her pack.
In four hours, she will go out of time. She will be there, warm and moving and loving us, and then she will be still, and will never move again. Somehow this thought is devastating to me. Time the destroyer, again.
C.S. Lewis wondered about the souls of animals. "Who knows that the breath of man ascends upward and the breath of the beast descends downward to the earth?" (Ecc 3:21) He wondered whether beloved animals might become "real" by the chosen love of their masters, even as we become real by the love of our Master. I cannot read The Velveteen Rabbit without weeping. I do not like to think of a world in which anything really good, really beautiful is utterly lost. It does not seem like something my God would allow. I would pray, "Heavenly Father, you have made this beautiful, gentle animal to be our companion for these many years, a lesser being with enough consciousness to be faithful and gentle and loving, to form a bond with us greater beings that brings us both comfort and pleasure, to choose (usually) what she knew would please us, and to give both of us joy in our respective natures. As surely as other humans, this being has entered into the eternal lives and memory of us and our children. Can not this lesser being be granted an existence with us in eternity? Can she not share with us the new earth we shall inherit, content as a lesser being to attend at the heels of her beloved masters, even as we shall be content to walk with you as lesser beings basking in your love? Will our new earth be filled only with humans or greater beings, and no lesser? Is our condescension to and love for lesser dependent beings not a reflection of your love for us in some way? I think it may be so. If so, please grant that these beloved animals, among them this particular creation of yours, Buttercup, might have the pleasure and honor of renewal when you renew all things. "
We just walked outside for a bit. She sniffs the air, but does not seem interested. She tries to pee. I wonder what she knows. Does a merciful God allow the animals some acceptance of death? Some animal behavior suggests it. Does she discern a coming end in our sorrow, in our attendance upon her in these last hours? Is she sad with our sorrow, or with her own?
I contemplate my own end in this death. I doubt that my own life will encompass the life of another dog. I will be a grandfather in a few months. There will be dogs yet in the lives of my children, and in their children's, but probably not in my own. Perhaps there will be a dog of my old age; I do not know. It would be a dog of leavings and of sorrow. It will not be that long before I, too, will wonder why I cannot pee, and will lose the song of birds and the high notes of the children's laughter.
I know the ending of Ecclesiastes, have known it long. This is the way of things under the sun. There will be joy and sorrow both. Buttercup's life was a blessing and a joy, and her death is a sorrow. One entails the other till we return to our maker and enter into the new Earth prepared for us. There, I think, we will rediscover much that was lost here in this beginning of our long lives.
I am not taking this very well. I have gone off to weep several times in the days since we made the decision. There is much meaning wrapped up in a dog's life; many memories. It is hard to think of it ending. It forebodes other endings.
Our animals generally live much shorter lives than we do, at least the ones we choose as pets. Why should a 65 lb dog live only 15 years and a 120 lb adult live 80? Perhaps that we might more frequently and more safely contemplate life and death, and the cycles in our lives.
My life so far has encompassed the lives of two beloved dogs. I have had others, but only two whose lives were completely involved in my own from beginning to end. Pixie was the dog of my childhood, who shared my life from age 6 until age 16, when I entered upon my adulthood and my walk with Christ. When she died, in my arms, I somehow understood that my childhood was over, and she had seen me through it. She had been my companion on many explorations of my growing world; I shared my childhood sorrows with her, and she seemed to absorb them and bear them up quietly, as dogs do. I knew, when she died, that in the next ten years my adult life would be defined. She would not be there, she had done her part. And I knew that I was entering a world in which there would be losses.
Buttercup has been the dog of my maturity, growing up with my children who now, as she dies, are entering their own adulthoods in their various ways. The six of us were her pack; she was happiest when we were all home, and would lie where we were gathered. Each night she slept beneath one of our beds, or on the corner of a sleeping bag when friends were over. We have hiked, canoed, splashed in streams, dug snow forts together. She has slept amidst my wife and children when I worked those many nights. Our windowsills are scarred from her claws; our carpets are worn with her path up the steps under the banister. She was the gentlest of dogs. She loved to have her face rubbed.
Now she is nearly gone. Those once-acute ears can no longer hear the birds, nor any but the loudest speech. Her world is quiet, and her eyes are dim. For some time she has been unable to mount the stairs, so she sleeps alone. Over the years her pack has drifted away, to college and to other new homes. Her world has become very small. Sometimes at night she will yip the lonely yip, and one of us will sleep on the couch till she falls asleep. Sometimes she is incontinent, and embarassed. She is afraid of edges.
Yet she is still there, still in time with us, even now. She does not look bad; she does not look sick. She is still warm and soft and breathing. She still likes her face rubbed, though her eyes are somewhat glazed from the pain medications. But she cannot pee and has not eaten for days. She goes outside and is puzzled why no urine will emerge.
It is an odd thing, this contemplation of her coming death. I have seen death many times, of course, but nearly always of humans. It is always mysterious. One minute there is a person there, then there is just a body. With humans, it can be approached with language. There are last words; there are understood goodbyes. In this death, she does not understand. And I cannot make her know what she has meant to me and to her pack.
In four hours, she will go out of time. She will be there, warm and moving and loving us, and then she will be still, and will never move again. Somehow this thought is devastating to me. Time the destroyer, again.
C.S. Lewis wondered about the souls of animals. "Who knows that the breath of man ascends upward and the breath of the beast descends downward to the earth?" (Ecc 3:21) He wondered whether beloved animals might become "real" by the chosen love of their masters, even as we become real by the love of our Master. I cannot read The Velveteen Rabbit without weeping. I do not like to think of a world in which anything really good, really beautiful is utterly lost. It does not seem like something my God would allow. I would pray, "Heavenly Father, you have made this beautiful, gentle animal to be our companion for these many years, a lesser being with enough consciousness to be faithful and gentle and loving, to form a bond with us greater beings that brings us both comfort and pleasure, to choose (usually) what she knew would please us, and to give both of us joy in our respective natures. As surely as other humans, this being has entered into the eternal lives and memory of us and our children. Can not this lesser being be granted an existence with us in eternity? Can she not share with us the new earth we shall inherit, content as a lesser being to attend at the heels of her beloved masters, even as we shall be content to walk with you as lesser beings basking in your love? Will our new earth be filled only with humans or greater beings, and no lesser? Is our condescension to and love for lesser dependent beings not a reflection of your love for us in some way? I think it may be so. If so, please grant that these beloved animals, among them this particular creation of yours, Buttercup, might have the pleasure and honor of renewal when you renew all things. "
We just walked outside for a bit. She sniffs the air, but does not seem interested. She tries to pee. I wonder what she knows. Does a merciful God allow the animals some acceptance of death? Some animal behavior suggests it. Does she discern a coming end in our sorrow, in our attendance upon her in these last hours? Is she sad with our sorrow, or with her own?
I contemplate my own end in this death. I doubt that my own life will encompass the life of another dog. I will be a grandfather in a few months. There will be dogs yet in the lives of my children, and in their children's, but probably not in my own. Perhaps there will be a dog of my old age; I do not know. It would be a dog of leavings and of sorrow. It will not be that long before I, too, will wonder why I cannot pee, and will lose the song of birds and the high notes of the children's laughter.
I know the ending of Ecclesiastes, have known it long. This is the way of things under the sun. There will be joy and sorrow both. Buttercup's life was a blessing and a joy, and her death is a sorrow. One entails the other till we return to our maker and enter into the new Earth prepared for us. There, I think, we will rediscover much that was lost here in this beginning of our long lives.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
In His hands are the Caverns...
In the Daily Office, one frequenty recites a Venite which proclaims, "In His hand are the caverns of the earth; the heights of the mountains are His also." This is probably based upon Ps 95:4.
We are accustomed to looking up to the heights in our contemplation of God, and many feel somehow closer to God when on a mountaintop. But I am also moved by contemplation of the truth that not only the obvious mountains but the inapparent caverns are in His hand, are his workmanship.
As a child I visited various caverns with my parents, the largest being Luray Caverns in Virginia. The stories of the discovery of these caverns have a certain similarity. For millenia, their existence is hidden beneath the earth, and one day someone finds a sinkhole, or cool air emanating from under a rock, and digs a little to discover breathtaking beauty that has lain unknown and unappreciated beneath our feet for hundreds of years, thousands of years. All that time, slow millimeter by millimeter and unappreciated by mortal eyes, God has carved chambers filled with beauty and mirror pools and deep quiet. A work of removal and accretion, the work of Water moving through and out of Rock.
We are an impatient race. What work is God doing beneath our feet, unknown to us, over the decades of our own lives and over the centuries of the life of the City of Zion? What caverns of beauty will be revealed to us in that Day when we shall see clearly and know as we are known? What shapes are being carved out of our stony hearts by the slow but relentless movement through them of the water of life?
We are accustomed to looking up to the heights in our contemplation of God, and many feel somehow closer to God when on a mountaintop. But I am also moved by contemplation of the truth that not only the obvious mountains but the inapparent caverns are in His hand, are his workmanship.
As a child I visited various caverns with my parents, the largest being Luray Caverns in Virginia. The stories of the discovery of these caverns have a certain similarity. For millenia, their existence is hidden beneath the earth, and one day someone finds a sinkhole, or cool air emanating from under a rock, and digs a little to discover breathtaking beauty that has lain unknown and unappreciated beneath our feet for hundreds of years, thousands of years. All that time, slow millimeter by millimeter and unappreciated by mortal eyes, God has carved chambers filled with beauty and mirror pools and deep quiet. A work of removal and accretion, the work of Water moving through and out of Rock.
We are an impatient race. What work is God doing beneath our feet, unknown to us, over the decades of our own lives and over the centuries of the life of the City of Zion? What caverns of beauty will be revealed to us in that Day when we shall see clearly and know as we are known? What shapes are being carved out of our stony hearts by the slow but relentless movement through them of the water of life?
Sunday, April 02, 2006
The Ten Commandments
I have had a wonderful opportunity to think upon the Decalogue over the past several weeks, while discussing the Commandments in Kairos and our high school Bible study. How deep is God's wisdom, how searching his words! Here in these ancient instructions lie hidden deep truths about God, man, and our place in the creation. These commandments set themselves apart from the cultic and civil law of Israel by addressing the very foundations of our existence and our relatedness to God and other persons and things. They begin at the beginning, with the questions of who we are, where did we come from, and what is reality? Then, what is wrong with us, and how should we then live? They rough out a sketch of human life in a created world in which everything matters, and persons most of all. Without an understanding illuminated by this light, the world would seem dark indeed.
Fertile questions:Then God spoke all these words, saying, "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before Me. You shall not make for yourself an idol, or any likeness of what is in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the water under the earth. You shall not worship them or serve them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and the fourth generations of those who hate Me, but showing lovingkindness to thousands, to those who love Me and keep My commandments. You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not leave him unpunished who takes His name in vain. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the LORD your God; in it you shall not do any work, you or your son or your daughter, your male or your female servant or your cattle or your sojourner who stays with you. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day; therefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day and made it holy. Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be prolonged in the land which the LORD your God gives you. You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife or his male servant or his female servant or his ox or his donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor."
(Exo 20:1-17 NASB)
- What assumptions about the world in which we live underly the commandment?
- What is it about us that makes the commandment necessary?
- What would perfect compliance with the commandment look like?
Saturday, April 01, 2006
"Speaking of Faith"
I recently discovered this very interesting podcast site. (In fact, I only just discovered the convenience of podcasts!) The hostess, Krista Tippet, may or may not be a Christian; I cannot tell from my listening so far, and have not explored it. However, she is a very respectful and sympathetic interviewer, without any discernable agenda or running subtext so common in programs about "faith" per se. She seems to be exploring the interface of religion and culture. She asks good questions, does not attack her interviewees, and is not eager to insert her own views. I have listened to programs on the gods of business, Einstein's god and his ethics, the Mohammad cartoon controversy, and Israeli and Palestinian narratives of the middle East conflict. All quite interesting. Check it out. It's free - including the podcasts - at the site above.
Monday, January 30, 2006
More Than We Ask
In Genesis Chapter 18, Abraham contends with God over the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Some commentators think that he was particularly concerned about his nephew Lot, and his family, whom he knew to be living in the plain cities. Abraham dares to importune God, and the angel of God agrees to spare the city if ten righteous men are found in it.
In Chapter 19, we see the Angels arriving in Sodom to rescue Lot and his family from the coming destruction. Verse 29 notes that, "God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow, when he overthrew the cities in which Lot lived." God was not obligated to do this. As there were not ten righteous men in the city, he would have been completely justified in overthrowing both cities without rescuing the family of Abraham. Yet, though Abraham did not articulate it, God understood his unspoken concern for his family. As a loving father he granted not the prayer that Abraham articulated, but instead satisfied the desires of his heart.
I find this very comforting, and a great encouragement to prayer. Though we should always aim to communicate clearly with God, just as we aim to communicate clearly with each other, yet we should not worry that God will misunderstand us. He knows the desires of our hearts. He knows these desires better than we do. He loves those desires, or those portions of our desires, that are good and that correspond to his desires. These he grants; these he owns as being prayed in his name. He answers our prayers beyond the particularities that we may impose upon them. He gives us even better than we ask for.
In Chapter 19, we see the Angels arriving in Sodom to rescue Lot and his family from the coming destruction. Verse 29 notes that, "God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow, when he overthrew the cities in which Lot lived." God was not obligated to do this. As there were not ten righteous men in the city, he would have been completely justified in overthrowing both cities without rescuing the family of Abraham. Yet, though Abraham did not articulate it, God understood his unspoken concern for his family. As a loving father he granted not the prayer that Abraham articulated, but instead satisfied the desires of his heart.
I find this very comforting, and a great encouragement to prayer. Though we should always aim to communicate clearly with God, just as we aim to communicate clearly with each other, yet we should not worry that God will misunderstand us. He knows the desires of our hearts. He knows these desires better than we do. He loves those desires, or those portions of our desires, that are good and that correspond to his desires. These he grants; these he owns as being prayed in his name. He answers our prayers beyond the particularities that we may impose upon them. He gives us even better than we ask for.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Today is the feast of Epiphany
One feature of Mission St. Claire's Daily Office site (that presents each day's prayer service from the Book of Common Prayer) is a brief explanation of the traditional Church Calendar. (A wise friend once noted that, if we ignore the Church calendar, we will fall back to the Hallmark calendar. Only too true...).
Today is Epiphany. Here, from St. Claire's site, is an explanation.
On this day we celebrate the holy Epiphany of our Lord and God and Savior
Jesus Christ.
In all the holy churches of God we celebrate today the holy
Epiphany of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ and from evening onwards we
keep a vigil because when the Lord completed His thirtieth year on earth He
wanted to make Himself known to people that He is God in body. When the Lord was
being baptized by John, he was revealed in voice by God the Father from above
and by the coming of the Holy Spirit to be true God and consubstantial with the
Father. From that time onwards it was made known to all through miracles and His
excellent teaching that He certainly is the God who was openly preached by the
prophets.
He came to baptism for such a reason: When the Lord became man for
us, he fulfilled the whole law throughout His whole life. John on the other hand
came from the desert and was baptizing in river Jordan according to what God had
told him and to the order and law of God, as Luke the evangelist says (Luke
3,2). That is why the Lord wishing to fulfil even this word as divine law, after
he completed thirty years of age, He went to John the Baptist to be baptized as
the rest of men did, although he had no need of baptism being sinless. John
respecting the Lord and thinking of his own worthlessness said: "I have need to
be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?" But the Lord encourages and moves
John to baptize Him, showing that what he thinks to be improper is most proper,
i.e. the Lord to be baptized by the servant. That is why He told him: "Suffer it
to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness". According to
the divine Chrysostomos righteousness is here called by the Lord the perfection
of all the commandments (in his homily on baptism), i.e. it is as if He says:
because I have perfected all the commandments of divine law, this is the only
one that is left, that is why I have to perfect it, too.
This is when John
gave up his objections. So, when the Lord was baptized by him, he immediately
rose from the water and behold! The heavens opened and John saw the Spirit of
God descending like a dove and going to Jesus. But even a voice from heavens
above was heard saying: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased".
From this it was made obvious to the Jews that John was not greater than Jesus,
according to the false conviction held by many, but that he was incomparably
lower than Him and that he was His servant. That is why the Spirit descending
addressed the Father's voice to Jesus and obviously showed as if pointing out
with the finger that "This is my beloved Son" was not said about John the
Baptist, although he was glorified and accepted by many, but it was said about
Jesus who was being baptized. When the Lord had completed this legal commandment
of baptism as well, He broke the curse which had been put on Adam because he had
broken the Divine law and, delivering us from condemnation, he brought every
ceremonial law to and end from that time onwards lifting them up to a more
spiritual and perfect level. Following this He discontinued the Jewish baptism
and gave to us, the faithful, the commandment to be baptized with the baptism of
the three immersions and immersions, which has the grace of the Holy Spirit that
was absent from John's baptism. Because, when the Lord had been baptized in that
same river, he completed the shadowy and imperfect baptism and opened the gates
of the spiritual and divine baptism of the Church.
Today is Epiphany. Here, from St. Claire's site, is an explanation.
On this day we celebrate the holy Epiphany of our Lord and God and Savior
Jesus Christ.
In all the holy churches of God we celebrate today the holy
Epiphany of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ and from evening onwards we
keep a vigil because when the Lord completed His thirtieth year on earth He
wanted to make Himself known to people that He is God in body. When the Lord was
being baptized by John, he was revealed in voice by God the Father from above
and by the coming of the Holy Spirit to be true God and consubstantial with the
Father. From that time onwards it was made known to all through miracles and His
excellent teaching that He certainly is the God who was openly preached by the
prophets.
He came to baptism for such a reason: When the Lord became man for
us, he fulfilled the whole law throughout His whole life. John on the other hand
came from the desert and was baptizing in river Jordan according to what God had
told him and to the order and law of God, as Luke the evangelist says (Luke
3,2). That is why the Lord wishing to fulfil even this word as divine law, after
he completed thirty years of age, He went to John the Baptist to be baptized as
the rest of men did, although he had no need of baptism being sinless. John
respecting the Lord and thinking of his own worthlessness said: "I have need to
be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?" But the Lord encourages and moves
John to baptize Him, showing that what he thinks to be improper is most proper,
i.e. the Lord to be baptized by the servant. That is why He told him: "Suffer it
to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness". According to
the divine Chrysostomos righteousness is here called by the Lord the perfection
of all the commandments (in his homily on baptism), i.e. it is as if He says:
because I have perfected all the commandments of divine law, this is the only
one that is left, that is why I have to perfect it, too.
This is when John
gave up his objections. So, when the Lord was baptized by him, he immediately
rose from the water and behold! The heavens opened and John saw the Spirit of
God descending like a dove and going to Jesus. But even a voice from heavens
above was heard saying: "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased".
From this it was made obvious to the Jews that John was not greater than Jesus,
according to the false conviction held by many, but that he was incomparably
lower than Him and that he was His servant. That is why the Spirit descending
addressed the Father's voice to Jesus and obviously showed as if pointing out
with the finger that "This is my beloved Son" was not said about John the
Baptist, although he was glorified and accepted by many, but it was said about
Jesus who was being baptized. When the Lord had completed this legal commandment
of baptism as well, He broke the curse which had been put on Adam because he had
broken the Divine law and, delivering us from condemnation, he brought every
ceremonial law to and end from that time onwards lifting them up to a more
spiritual and perfect level. Following this He discontinued the Jewish baptism
and gave to us, the faithful, the commandment to be baptized with the baptism of
the three immersions and immersions, which has the grace of the Holy Spirit that
was absent from John's baptism. Because, when the Lord had been baptized in that
same river, he completed the shadowy and imperfect baptism and opened the gates
of the spiritual and divine baptism of the Church.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Cast into the deep
Today's Daily Office includes readings from Jonah and Exodus.
The chariots of Pharoah and his army has he hurled into the sea the finest of
those who bear armor have been drowned in the Red Sea.
The fathomless deep
has overwhelmed them; *they sank into the depths like a stone. (Exodus 15)You cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood
surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me. Then I said, “I
am driven away from your sight; how shall I look again upon your holy temple?”
The waters closed in over me; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped around
my head at the roots of the mountains. (Jonah 2)
Jonah experienced the same terror as Pharaoh's army. The experience, viewed from without and even, largely, from within... was the same. Overwhelming, dark, stifling. Yet, Jonah still hopes in and praises God. Therein, his experience is different even before he is manifestly rescued.
I called to the Lord out of my distress,and he answered me; out of the belly
of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice.As my life was ebbing away, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer came to
you, into your holy temple.
Remarkable.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Monasticism Anyone?
As I contemplate the problems of our culture, secular and ecclesiastical,I find myself wondering increasingly whether an answer lies in monasticism. One problem is that I am not even sure what that means. Though I am from a Catholic background, I have had no exposure to monks or monasteries. What ideas I have probably come mostly from fictional accounts, and perhaps from "How the Irish Saved civilization" and Merton's "Seven Story Mountain," both read years ago. More specifically, though this page is named after a poem named after a Protestant religious community, I know almost nothing about such communities except that they almost universally failed in one or two generations. The nearby Ephrata cloisters are a case in point. A lovely tourist attraction, but no living community. There's a Moravian girls' school in Lititz, but apparently no Moravians.
Can anyone point me to any sites or books that discuss the foundational ideas of Protestant monasticism, especially of communities that survived for some time? I have found the following sites so far, but they don't provide much detail about the foundations:
Can anyone point me to any sites or books that discuss the foundational ideas of Protestant monasticism, especially of communities that survived for some time? I have found the following sites so far, but they don't provide much detail about the foundations:
Friday, December 16, 2005
Madman with bombs
I am always puzzled when I read commentaries like this one from Charles Krauthammer. There is an almost frantic tone of issuing a wake-up call, but one has to ask, wake up to what action? So there is a mad man in charge of Iran. He's about to obtain nuclear weapons. He was democratically elected. He paints, "Israel must be obliterated" on his missiles. So what are we supposed to do about this?
He acknowledges that the chances of anything happening in the United Nations is nil. Yet we are supposed to support the United Nations, and our lack of enthusiastic participation so far, or our taking measures into our own hands when the United Nations fails to act, has been considered bad behavior. We could bomb their nuclear facilities, as is Israel's wont, or take out their president in an assassination, but these would constitute military actions and lead to a war. But war is bad. It seems to me that if we do anything except ask very nicely in the United Nations, the same commentators will take us to task for militarism or being cowboys, and will start publishing the American body count on day two.
The same issue occurs with respect to a bad conscience about our actions or inactions in Rwanda. We feel badly, and wring our hands about standing by while Rwandans killed Rwandans, but what were we supposed to have done? The United Nations acted as the United Nations always acts. Nothing else could have been realistically expected. Does anyone really think that Americans would have tolerated the sending of American troops to rescue black Rwandans? Do we think that it would have been a quick in and out operation? Really, the murderers are on the street with their machetes, and what kind of effective action could have been taken other than sending troops?
I would love to know what Charles Krauthammer thinks we should actually do about the Iranian President.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
First Impressions of "Narnia"
Remember that unlike "Lord of the Rings" these were written for children and emphasize a child's sensibilities. "Always winter but never Christmas" exemplifies this difference. What could "Christmas" possibly mean to Narnians? Nothing, but it speaks concisely to a child's heart. If you are expecting "Lord of the Rings" you will cringe when Father Christmas shows up in a sleigh with reindeer, but that is in the book. One of the lead characters is a talking beaver, after all.
All this to say, the movie is faithful to the book in both content and tone, and the depiction of atoning sacrifice is clear. Aslan does not fly (as he does in the book) which is probably a good thing. He sounds like Liam Neeson which is OK, but a less recognizable voice may have been better. The talking animals were spotty: the beavers worked, the fox and wolves not as well. This probably has as much to do with the physical structure of beaver and canine skulls and jaws as with the animators' prowess; beaver faces are more human in proportion so their mouths can more convincingly mimic human speech.
The battle scenes also work. The gore of the Middle Earth battles is absent, as it should be in a children's movie, yet the scenes are well choreographed and engaging. The final battle between Jadis and Peter is especially well done, and demonstrates the cold masterfulness of the queen.
Overall, I predict success and sequels. If anything, this movie is more faithful to Lewis' book than Jackson's to Tolkein's.
All this to say, the movie is faithful to the book in both content and tone, and the depiction of atoning sacrifice is clear. Aslan does not fly (as he does in the book) which is probably a good thing. He sounds like Liam Neeson which is OK, but a less recognizable voice may have been better. The talking animals were spotty: the beavers worked, the fox and wolves not as well. This probably has as much to do with the physical structure of beaver and canine skulls and jaws as with the animators' prowess; beaver faces are more human in proportion so their mouths can more convincingly mimic human speech.
The battle scenes also work. The gore of the Middle Earth battles is absent, as it should be in a children's movie, yet the scenes are well choreographed and engaging. The final battle between Jadis and Peter is especially well done, and demonstrates the cold masterfulness of the queen.
Overall, I predict success and sequels. If anything, this movie is more faithful to Lewis' book than Jackson's to Tolkein's.
Rice on our Mid-East Policy
See here for an interesting take on our foreign policy in middle east. Comments?
Saturday, December 03, 2005
"Left Behind" and the problem with targums
Rev 22:18-19 NASB
(18) I testify to everyone who hears the words of the
prophecy of this book: if anyone adds to them, God will add to him the plagues
which are written in this book;
(19) and if anyone takes away from the words
of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his part from the tree of life
and from the holy city, which are written in this book.
This would chill me to the bone if I were an author of the "Left Behind" series. Considering the fact that those authors certainly know this verse, I must conclude that they don't consider their several-volume expansive interpretation of Revelation, Thessalonians, Daniel and Ezekiel to be an addition or subtraction to the prophecy entrusted to John and thence to us. This despite the fact that they know, or should know, that for millions of people their books, and the movies, are the only interpretation of these texts they are likely to hear. The very title of the series, "Left Behind," is a substantial addition to the account of the so-called Rapture in the letters to Thessalonica, neither of which speak of anyone being left behind at Jesus' second coming, nor shows any concern at all to describe what, exactly, happens to the unsaved at that event. They go on to add volumes of speculative detail to events that are described apocalyptically and poetically in the text delivered to us through the Apostle.
The subtraction effected by the "Left Behind" series is more subtle but even more real: the narrowing of the imagination of God's people to this single elaborate account of the end times. I have taught the Revelation to adults several times over the last years, and believe me that this series has constricted their view of the future deeply and definitively. When they read Revelation, they do not wonder what it means, they do not engage their faculties of understanding of poetry and metaphor. No, they already know what it means. They've seen it at the movies.
But here I am most interested in the question, why does God find it necessary to explicitly prohibit the addition or subtraction of words to or from his revelation? And what does he mean by addition and subtraction?
Perhaps at one level God here prohibits the addition of fake text, of additional chapters or episodes. This is, no doubt, quite important. We can't have men or women adding their own uninspired text to the body of scripture and passing it off as inspired. Why not? This may seem like a silly question but, really, why not? Is it not because we need to preserve the ability to trace the expressed thoughts back to God, who is authoritative and sovereign, or to man, who is not?
What about expansive interpretations? Do they constitute additions in the sense proscribed?
This is a more difficult question, but we can at least begin with the need to preserve the distinguishability between God's words and the interpreter's ideas. This is admittedly not always a bright, clean line. All translation involves interpretation, which of course is why we generally require our preachers to read the original languages. Idioms, especially, require interpretation from one language or culture to another. Nevertheless, translation does not generally or frequently require expansion to be faithful to the original, and a translator seeks to match form with form, content with content, and connotation with connotation. There is a general one-to-one correspondence, and in this sense a translation is not inherently an expansion.
In "Colossians Remixed," Walsh and Keesmaat offer an expansive interpretation that they consider to be a "targum" of Colossians. They explain on page 38 that this is a form of interpretation arising during the Jewish diaspora, in which the rabbis did not simply translate the text, but "would update the text, apply it to the changing context, and put it into contemporary idiom." An accompanying footnote explains that a targum "could be commentary as well as translation, and impose a comprehensive interpretation on the original Hebrew." (p. 41) It is these latter aspects that may cause targa to fall afoul of the "no additions" mandate, in my opinion.
The fundamental problem that I believe underlies God's warning is that additions are subtractions. When one "imposes" such a "comprehensive interpretation" upon the text, it certainly can and often does exclude other appropriate interpretations that the reader, especially the Spirit-enlightened reader, might otherwise bring to it. It dominates and directs the imagination. It does so, I would submit, in proportion as it is an expansion; the more extensive the examples and cultural specificities supplied by the interpreter, the more restrictive is the targum to the reader's own mind.
Writers of targums (targa?) might object that the reader knows that their targum is merely an interpretation and hence not authoritative. Perhaps. I suspect the authors of "Left Behind" offer the same defense. What, in my opinion, makes them more pernicious than straightforward commentary is that they take the same form as the underlying scripture, and thereby enter the reader's mind by the same door as the scriptures would, and gain status thereby, so to speak. I think this is dangerous ground for any teacher to tread upon.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Ayotte
Not much time to write this AM, but let me make a few observations about abortion and minor consent from the point of view of a physician practicing emergency medicine for 25 years.
- Current law forbids my touching a minor even to treat her sore throat without parental consent.
- The two exceptions are a) the existence of any medical emergency that requires action before consent can be obtained, and b) a minor who is pregnant or has been pregnant, who is considered "emancipated"
- Though I may treat the true emergency as clinically necessary, I must also be making an effort to inform the parents, except in the case of the emancipated minor
- I see complications of pregnancy all the time. I have never seen one that required an emergency abortion. In the first trimester, the health-threatening conditions all involve fetal demise in any case, and treatment consists of" cleaning up" after the miscarriage or tubal pregnancy. This is true in the second trimester also, where complications involve the placental apparatus for the most part, or a weak cervix, both of which primarily threaten the baby's life. In the 3rd trimester, there are conditions like pre-eclampsia that do threaten the mothers life, but these are treatable by delivery of a now-viable baby.
- The only maternal health issue that does not involve an inevitable fetal demise is "mental health." To my mind, these are precisely the cases in which parents need to be involved.
Gotta run.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The Empire and Postmodernism.
Though I believe the empire against which we struggle is Babylon, yet it is true that at this time and place (the West in the 21st century) Babylon is utilizing global consumerism as a tool of empire. Elsewhere, such as in the Islamic states, she uses other tools, older ones perhaps. But Walsh and Keesmaat are concerned with the West, so let us go forward and continue to follow their argument.
Empires seek stability by influencing every aspect of life, especially the intellectual and creative lives of its subjects. This can be seen in recent empires' concerns to control the curricula in schools, in the Hitler Youth movement, and the state-approved art of the USSR, the Third Reich and the Cultural Revolution. All these examples may seem obvious, and crude, because they are not our current culture and so can be seen by us more objectively.
If global consumerism is the economic structure of the empire, postmodernism is its intellectual structure. Postmodernism "on the street" is a deep-seated skepticism of all grand metanarratives, all grand stories or accounts that claim to organize or explain all of life. It is the doubt that truth is knowable, perhaps even the doubt whether Truth exists at all. Instead of believing or acting out of the convictions of a single metanarrative, the postmodern individual notes the existence of a plurality of differing organizing stories. He or she feels free to choose among them, even to the extent of picking them apart and selecting an account of origins from one and an account of sexuality from another. It is like mixing and matching clothing and accessories at the mall. In this way it is the perfect match to global consumerism. It is, in a sense, a "marketplace of ideas," or global consumerism of the mind. Furthermore, just as no one is expected to commit to one outfit or one laptop or one cellphone brand, so it is seen as backward and naive to commit to any particular philosophy or metanarrative combo as finally authoritative.
In all this, I think W and K are right on. Postmodernism is the official and sanctioned philosophy of the empire in these her Western provinces. A large portion of the book is devoted to exploring how the truth claims of God's kingdom can be brought forward in a manner comprehensible to a postmodern citizen of the empire. As I am not myself a postmodern man, I found this portion of the book most challenging. More on this later...
Empires seek stability by influencing every aspect of life, especially the intellectual and creative lives of its subjects. This can be seen in recent empires' concerns to control the curricula in schools, in the Hitler Youth movement, and the state-approved art of the USSR, the Third Reich and the Cultural Revolution. All these examples may seem obvious, and crude, because they are not our current culture and so can be seen by us more objectively.
If global consumerism is the economic structure of the empire, postmodernism is its intellectual structure. Postmodernism "on the street" is a deep-seated skepticism of all grand metanarratives, all grand stories or accounts that claim to organize or explain all of life. It is the doubt that truth is knowable, perhaps even the doubt whether Truth exists at all. Instead of believing or acting out of the convictions of a single metanarrative, the postmodern individual notes the existence of a plurality of differing organizing stories. He or she feels free to choose among them, even to the extent of picking them apart and selecting an account of origins from one and an account of sexuality from another. It is like mixing and matching clothing and accessories at the mall. In this way it is the perfect match to global consumerism. It is, in a sense, a "marketplace of ideas," or global consumerism of the mind. Furthermore, just as no one is expected to commit to one outfit or one laptop or one cellphone brand, so it is seen as backward and naive to commit to any particular philosophy or metanarrative combo as finally authoritative.
In all this, I think W and K are right on. Postmodernism is the official and sanctioned philosophy of the empire in these her Western provinces. A large portion of the book is devoted to exploring how the truth claims of God's kingdom can be brought forward in a manner comprehensible to a postmodern citizen of the empire. As I am not myself a postmodern man, I found this portion of the book most challenging. More on this later...
Monday, November 28, 2005
Who is the Emperor?
Perhaps I was reminded of Plato when I read Colossians Remixed because the latter is, explicitly in places, a dialogue. The book is structured as a possible response to the questions or problems of four real people, William, Elanna , Eric and Anthony, all young postmodernists. At times, the authors address anticipated objections through explicit, Socratic-style dialogue with a fictional reader. These dialogues are very well done, and generally put the finger right on the objection that was forming in my mind. They did not set up straw men.
They begin with a premise that underlies the subtitle of the book: we, like Paul and Jesus, live in an empire. Our empire is cybernetic globalism, which involves consumerism, global corporations, militarism, and technological optimism. Like Rome, like all empires, our empire claims allegiance on the basis of its being the source of peace and all that is good in our lives, and extends its images and its viewpoint into every aspect of life. It is totalitarian and ultimate. It takes the place and claims the honors that rightly belong only to God.
This conceptualization of the consumerist culture of global capitalism is a very fruitful one, allowing all sorts of useful insights into our lives in the West today. I plan to think more deeply on the ramifications of this idea, and perhaps thereby fulfill, at least partly, Walsh and Keesmaat's purpose in writing this book. Nevertheless, there is a problem with drawing a parallel between the Roman Empire and global consumer capitalism. They are not in the same category. They cannot be made analogous.
Rome was an actual empire. The word "empire" has a tangible, geopolitical meaning, and Rome -- and Assyria, and Babylon, the Soviet Union and 19th Century Britain -- were empires in this sense. These had a hierarchical structure with a single sovereign at the top, even if that sovereign was an elected one. They had specific domains. They had an identifiable imperial army. They had specific written laws. In short, they were specific instances of a human sovereign having dominion over a specific, if broad, geographical territory.
Global capitalism is a different sort of thing, even if it has some of the same features. It is an "ism", so to speak. Communism is also not an empire, though it also shares features of totalism and manipulation of images and imagination. Global capitalism and communism are one sort of thing, empire is another sort of thing. Indeed, an actual empire, like ancient Rome or the British empire, may be globally capitalistic while another, like the old USSR, may be communistic.
This may seem like a quibble, but it is not. How one relates to a thing is limited by what sort of thing it is. Paul could, and did, appeal to Caesar. This was not merely symbolic, or metaphorical, but actual, because Rome was an actual empire. Who is the emperor of global consumer capitalism? If W and K had explicitly identified the Empire as the United States, the analogy to Rome would have been better, but it would have narrowed the scope of their critique.
A solution that occurs to me, that they approach occasionally but do not develop, and which I believe is quite biblical, is that the idea of totalitarian empire, of which Rome was an instance, and which our western culture and various eastern and communist cultures are instances, comes from the ancient enemy of God's kingdom, Mystery Babylon. Both Peter and John make explicit connections between their Rome and the ancient whore. If one examines the world's lament over fallen Babylon in Revelation, one finds all the totalitarianism and commercial features that W and K find in Rome and in our culture. If this is so, if the empire is today, and always has been, Babylon, then we have identified an emperor, one with many heads just as we may see today, perhaps.
So why didn't W and K take it to Babylon? I suspect because that would shift the reader 's focus to the heavenly or spiritual realms, and they wish to focus on earth, in a geopolitical sense. This, I fear, is an overreaction to a perceived unbalanced dualism that emphasizes the heavenly and spiritual over the earthly and physical. The biblical stories emphasize both. We struggle in both worlds. Paul struggled "not against flesh and blood" but against principalities and powers, yet a flesh and blood Roman soldier lopped off his head.
They begin with a premise that underlies the subtitle of the book: we, like Paul and Jesus, live in an empire. Our empire is cybernetic globalism, which involves consumerism, global corporations, militarism, and technological optimism. Like Rome, like all empires, our empire claims allegiance on the basis of its being the source of peace and all that is good in our lives, and extends its images and its viewpoint into every aspect of life. It is totalitarian and ultimate. It takes the place and claims the honors that rightly belong only to God.
This conceptualization of the consumerist culture of global capitalism is a very fruitful one, allowing all sorts of useful insights into our lives in the West today. I plan to think more deeply on the ramifications of this idea, and perhaps thereby fulfill, at least partly, Walsh and Keesmaat's purpose in writing this book. Nevertheless, there is a problem with drawing a parallel between the Roman Empire and global consumer capitalism. They are not in the same category. They cannot be made analogous.
Rome was an actual empire. The word "empire" has a tangible, geopolitical meaning, and Rome -- and Assyria, and Babylon, the Soviet Union and 19th Century Britain -- were empires in this sense. These had a hierarchical structure with a single sovereign at the top, even if that sovereign was an elected one. They had specific domains. They had an identifiable imperial army. They had specific written laws. In short, they were specific instances of a human sovereign having dominion over a specific, if broad, geographical territory.
Global capitalism is a different sort of thing, even if it has some of the same features. It is an "ism", so to speak. Communism is also not an empire, though it also shares features of totalism and manipulation of images and imagination. Global capitalism and communism are one sort of thing, empire is another sort of thing. Indeed, an actual empire, like ancient Rome or the British empire, may be globally capitalistic while another, like the old USSR, may be communistic.
This may seem like a quibble, but it is not. How one relates to a thing is limited by what sort of thing it is. Paul could, and did, appeal to Caesar. This was not merely symbolic, or metaphorical, but actual, because Rome was an actual empire. Who is the emperor of global consumer capitalism? If W and K had explicitly identified the Empire as the United States, the analogy to Rome would have been better, but it would have narrowed the scope of their critique.
A solution that occurs to me, that they approach occasionally but do not develop, and which I believe is quite biblical, is that the idea of totalitarian empire, of which Rome was an instance, and which our western culture and various eastern and communist cultures are instances, comes from the ancient enemy of God's kingdom, Mystery Babylon. Both Peter and John make explicit connections between their Rome and the ancient whore. If one examines the world's lament over fallen Babylon in Revelation, one finds all the totalitarianism and commercial features that W and K find in Rome and in our culture. If this is so, if the empire is today, and always has been, Babylon, then we have identified an emperor, one with many heads just as we may see today, perhaps.
So why didn't W and K take it to Babylon? I suspect because that would shift the reader 's focus to the heavenly or spiritual realms, and they wish to focus on earth, in a geopolitical sense. This, I fear, is an overreaction to a perceived unbalanced dualism that emphasizes the heavenly and spiritual over the earthly and physical. The biblical stories emphasize both. We struggle in both worlds. Paul struggled "not against flesh and blood" but against principalities and powers, yet a flesh and blood Roman soldier lopped off his head.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Subverting the Empire...
I just finished reading Walsh and Keesmaat's Colossians Remixed. (Subverting the Empire.) This is a book that warrants a second reading, not merely because it is relevant, but because its argument is complex and carefully constructed and hence its truthfulness is not immediately apparent, at least to me. Reading the book, I felt the same sense of being led to a particular foreseeable conclusion, by a series of questionable concessions, as I feel when reading Plato's dialogues. At each pivotal point, I feel that the argument has been a little contrived, that the theoretical choices have been oversimplified and therefore somewhat narrowed. Coming to the conclusion, one wants to backtrack and perhaps contest more carefully a point that one had granted while feeling just a little uncomfortable with the choices offered or with the accuracy of the underlying assumptions.
In any case, I want to go back now and carefully scrutinize their argument. I hope to reflect on that scrutiny here.
In any case, I want to go back now and carefully scrutinize their argument. I hope to reflect on that scrutiny here.
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