To-Do Lists

The semester is finally coming up to pace, and it's time to start writing out the lengthy to-do lists. I always love to make a list and then start scratching things off one by one - always working towards that oh-so-rewarding check mark. Yet the list can be daunting at times.

My roommates and I have begun to joke about the sort of things we put on our to do lists. The list for a typical day might look like:
Plan out course of my life
Do laundry
Restore our culture's concept of human dignity
Figure out impact of philosophy on our current society from Plato to Hume
Call boss
Save the West (and don't forget the rest of the world, too.)

All in a day's work, right? Okay, maybe not.

At this time in our lives when we are faced with pressure, expectations, and our own lofty aspirations, it's so easy to become overwhelmed with the sense that weight of the world is on our shoulders. Luckily, however, we don't actually have to save the world. There is another who has borne this burden for us. Our blessed savior, who is infinitely more powerful that we are, has already saved the world. He now asks that we simply follow him and do his work.

In Ephesians 2, Paul writes that we are saved by grace, and,
"created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared before-hand, that we should walk in them."

This is a much needed reminder that it is God, not ourselves, who charts out the course of our lives and decides what work we will do. He has set out tasks for us, and he will see them through to completion by his grace. Indeed, apart from him we can do nothing, but we can do all things through him who strengthens us.

Next time you freak out about your to-do list, remember that the most important things have already been checked off. And as for the rest, you're not alone on the job.

The Historical Labyrinth: a Helpful Analogy

This summer, I spent two months traveling all over Europe—a wonderful and world-expanding experience (and also a good excuse for not blogging in a very long time!). I got to visit many places that are rich in history, and I felt my historical understanding expanding with each new location. When I entered college two years ago, I chose History as my concentration within a Humanities major, not because I had any great expertise in History, but because I had a great fascination with the story of the world. My travels this summer gave me many opportunities to indulge that fascination, and also to think about the value of historical understanding.

One day, as I was pondering a conversation about history that I’d had with some fellow students, it occurred to me that history is kind of like a labyrinth. There have been so many places, so many people, and so many stories interacting with each other in so many ways, that it is easy to become quite lost as you try to navigate your way through them and discover how they are all woven together in the big picture. I think that this is why so many kids think history is boring: they get lost in the labyrinth of names and dates, and fail to see why it all matters. I can imagine a student wandering through a maze of historical facts and finding it all quite confusing. If he is able to see the history from a bird’s-eye view, he will discover a dazzling pattern in which all the smaller details play a part.

Viewing history through the analogy of a labyrinth, I find, lends two helpful lessons: the first as a matter of didactics, the second as a matter of appreciating the world and academia more fully.

Firstly, history would be both easier and more exciting for students to learn if they first are given a peak at what the labyrinth looks like from above (ie: the big picture). The practical application of this is as simple as beginning a history lesson with broad sweeping stories that give context to the study at hand. If a learner has a grasp on the significant principles and events of an epoch, it is much easier to understand how all the details fit into the big picture. In light of the grand pattern of a labyrinth, each corner and curve is significant (and memorable!) as a part of the larger whole.

Secondly, to look at an even bigger picture, I find that the “labyrinth of history” entails more than just history as we tend to think of it in terms of an isolated discipline. It includes philosophy, literature, language, art, science, and religion. All of these things come into play in the grand story of mankind, and it is often impossible to understand the twists and turns of the labyrinth without recognizing how these things impact the course of history. Together, the multiple disciplines can give us a fuller grasp on the big picture of human history. Most importantly, all of these things are linked to the metanarrative of God’s plan for humanity, which is the ultimate big picture of the labyrinth. Our gracious God, who controls every moment of history, is weaving together all the complex aspects of human existence according to his plan for salvation. Only in light of this grand metanarrative can we truly understand and enjoy the value of historical events.

Incarnate Love

I have always been awed by the fact that the Word of God became flesh and dwelt among us—that Eternal God walked beside men and spoke with them in person. But I am just now struck by the fact that Eternal Love became incarnate and physically carried out the greatest demonstration of love the world has ever known.

Rene Descartes abandoned the flesh in his search for certainty of truth, but the eternal Logos who is Truth became flesh. Pious Christians deny the flesh and look down on fleshly love, yet the very God who is Love took on flesh to demonstrate that love to us.

This grand and beautiful paradox moves me with a wonder that is almost unspeakable. Not only all knowledge and all wisdom, but all love was embodied in the person of Christ who washed his disciples feet, who healed the sick—the person of Christ who bore the weight of a wooden cross upon his back, the weight of my sin.

The question I have is, what does this mean for human wisdom and human love? We as humans have been created with body and soul, and God himself did not disdain the flesh when he took on human form. The author of love demonstrated love with his hands and feet, and we must do the same.

Over at The Scriptorium, Dr. Reynolds writes about the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with costly perfume. He points out that this was a physical display of love, and scoffed at as such, and yet it was honorable in the eyes of Christ. It is my hope that, as I walk in the footsteps of Christ, I will learn how to love as this woman loved and as God loves, not only in mind, but in deed.

This Easter, I am grateful for the love of God which has saved me from my sins.

The Beauty of a Moment

It seems to me I’ve experienced a lovely sort of grace these past months. It is the grace of joy—that tremendous delight we find in the beauty of life. It’s that sense of stillness that comes from seeing what is. The trees, the sunset, the person beside me, the melody in my head. The world is so beautiful that sometimes I just have to sit still and soak it up. So often in my striving after that which I have not gained, I loose sight of what I already know and see. In those times I despair because I forget that reality is beautiful and enjoyable. I see it as an uphill toil.

Pascal describes the man as being “suspended between to gulfs of the infinite and the void…a mid-point between nothing and everything.” Man is unhappy because he can see the good, but it is just beyond his grasp. This has often been my experience, but grace brings the good closer to my reach. Even when I’ve not yet grasped onto the good, I enjoy it, and I find a deep happiness in my heart. It is the phenomenon of delighting in the good even though I don’t fully know it. Realizing all that I don’t know, but being overwhelmed by all the goodness that is so powerfully apparent right before me. This is indeed a great good, bestowed, I believe, by grace.

A couple evenings ago, there was a moment that gave my an insight into this delight that I’ve been experiencing. I was listening to my brother Austin play the cello and enjoying the richness of each note resounding from the string. Each moment was so full, so beautiful, that I didn’t need to wish for the next moment to come. This, I thought, was the nature of the delight, the joy, the beauty that I’ve been experiencing. It is seeing ‘what is’ and enjoying that, rather than looking towards ‘what is not yet.’ It is the stillness that we have, the peace, in the enjoyment of the beauty of that very moment we are in.

Last semester, I was given the assignment to look at nature for awhile, and see what I learned about God. I spent about an hour lying under a tree, staring up at the leaves waving slightly in the breeze. I had spent so much time striving—striving towards a good end, but none the less, striving. Yet I was determined to be still for an hour and watch. As I lied there in stillness, looking up at the branches and leaves, it struck me that they didn’t strive; they just were, and yet even in their stillness, they were beautiful—every moment. They were glorifying to God by simply being. Being leaves, so calm and so lovely. I could enjoy the beauty of their serenity, and in so doing, be still for a moment. I didn’t have to wait for the next moment to come, because I was enjoying that moment. This is the same experience I find when I look at the clouds in the majestic sunset sky, and when I listened to the notes of Marie Saint-Seans’ Swan streaming from my brother’s cello.

In our human state, we are in constantly pursuing. There is always more truth to seek, more goodness to seek. Although there will always be a greater beauty than that which we have already experienced, beauty is something that we are able to grasp, to be immersed in, to delight in—to whatever extent we experience it. Beauty holds us in the present moment for the sake of sheer delight.

I think this is what art captures. Art depicts beauty, and causes us to delight. Art forms such as paintings, drawings, sculptures, and music capture a moment, cause us to enter into that moment and stay there. This art impresses upon us the grand beauty of a split second, and reminds us that our entire lives are a great sequence of these beautiful seconds. The sentimental impact of this is, perhaps, unspeakable. It is joy and delight and stillness and peace. It captures the soul, and infuses value into every moment of existence.

Questions of Justice and Judgment

In late January, I traveled to the University of Arizona with a Christian pro-life organization called Justice For All. Our goal was to make abortion unthinkable by engaging students in dialogue about the issue of abortion. I spoke with multiple students throughout the week, each conversation holding its own challenges and discoveries. The following is a retelling of one of my favorite conversations.

On the second day of the Exhibit at University of Arizona, I stood at the Free Speech Board reading people’s comments. Alongside me stood a tall young woman (Who, for the sake of this post, I'll call Amanda) with shoulder length brown hair. She appeared a bit frustrated. I turned to her with the question, “what do you think about this exhibit?”
In a tone of frustration, she replied, “Well, abortion should be a woman’s choice.” “What exactly do you mean by that?” I asked.
Our discussion launched from there. We proceeded to dialogue about the humanity of the unborn and the moral implications of taking an innocent human life. She grew less and less frustrated as we talked, even conceding that I made some good points.

Eventually Amanda stated that she herself would not get an abortion, but that there was no way we could tell other people what to do about the issue. “Why not?” I wondered. “Because everyone has to decide for themselves,” she explained, “and it’s judgmental to say someone else is wrong.”
“Really? Explain more of what you mean by that,”
“I just mean that, we can’t really know what’s right and wrong, so each person has to make that decision for himself.”

From there we proceeded to talk about what it means for people to choose what they believe, what is truth, and how do our beliefs about it affects our lives. We agreed that people are free to choose what they believe. After discussing for awhile, we concluded that this choice itself does not validate the truth of the belief, but that we have tools for discerning true beliefs: reason, experience, even revelation. “It’s like these things are measuring sticks,” I said, “and we can hold our ideas up to them to see if they measure up. If an idea falls short, we’re free to discard it.” In light of this, we discussed what it meant to be judgmental. I posed the example: “If my brother believes it’s reality that cocaine is good for him, that would a bad idea, right?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s probably going to make bad choices based on this bad idea?”
“Of course.”
“And these choices would have bad consequences in his life, wouldn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“So, what I’m getting at is this: in that situation, if I were to talk to my brother and give him some reasons why his idea was wrong and he should change his mind, would that be caring, or would it be judgmental?”
“It would be caring…”

At this point in the conversation, Amanda brought up the concern underling her opinions about judgment. “I guess I’m mostly upset about the way that the church judges,” she said, “my mom went to Catholic school, and the nuns were awful.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I responded, “I agree that the church is often guilty of judging. I’m an evangelical Christian, so this is an issue very close to my heart.”

I was becoming aware of the Holy Spirit’s guidance in our conversation, and observed that
Amanda's countenance and demeanor began to change. Our conversation about the church flowed into a conversation about the gospel and the love of God. We discussed how judging another person means holding them to a standard without showing them love. Amanda listened attentively as I shared that God’s standard is high, but he has given us the ultimate love by sending Jesus to die for our salvation. Jesus’ death and resurrection make a way for us to meet God’s standard. Seemingly surprised by the message I was communicating, Amanda listened attentively as one who was hearing something for the first time. Surely she’d heard of Christianity before, but perhaps she’d never heard of God’s love. Before we parted ways, she thanked me more than once for talking with her. I could tell that she was thinking about our conversation, and the smile on her face as she turned to leave expressed a sort of joy that caught me off guard. I had an inkling that the Holy Spirit was at work in her heart...

Making Abortion Unthinkable

Pro-choice advocates argue that if pro-lifers criminalize abortion, they will incur an even greater evil than they seek to avoid because abortions will be forced into the back allies—a dirty and dangerous black market. Although I oppose abortion, I believe that its supporters are absolutely correct on this point; legislation won’t fix the problem. This is because the problem is not in the legislation; the problem is in the mindsets and beliefs that allowed abortion to become acceptable in our society. If we are to eliminate abortion, we must not seek merely to change laws, but to change hearts and minds.

We need to make abortion unthinkable, not just illegal. If abortion were made illegal, there is indeed the risk of a black market. Women facing crisis pregnancy are frightened and desperate enough to go through with back ally procedures. This atrocity is more grievous than the atrocities we face today—women deserve better. Humanity deserves better. This is why we must not simply make abortion illegal; we must make it unconscionable.

The women of our society must be protected from exploitation and from painful experiences like abortion. If this is t occur we must restore value and dignity to what it means to be a female human. A simple glance at our media is enough to indicate that women are objectified and exploited for their sexuality, because sex sells. This is indicative of a mindset of hedonism, promiscuity and exploitation which leads to imprudent sexual behavior, countless unwanted pregnancies, and a call for a "solution."

Although men are responsible for much of the exploitation that occurs, they are not the only ones at fault. Many women pursue and allure without discretion, flaunting their bodies and hearts as things easily won and conquered. I believe this to be the result of a few different things. Women have bought into the idea that they are objects. It is an appealing idea because women are not just any objects: they are objects of beauty, objects of desire, and desirable objects possess great power. Unfortunately, our society does not properly understand that power, or the beauty and desire. We do not understand these things in light of human dignity, but as tools for use and manipulation, because (we assume) in some situations, people just don’t have a choice but to respond in a certain way. Indeed, the Alan Guttmacher Institute and Planned Parenthood are communicating to youth that, with ninety-five percent of Americans having premarital sex, they hardly have a choice—they are bound to do the same, so why even bother to promote abstinence? (find the article at http://www.lifenews.com/nat2841.html) This denies a crucial element of human dignity and responsibility—the human will. Humans are not mere objects that can't make choices and exist to be used; we are volitional beings, created to be loved. In this sense, I am pro-choice. Men and women have a choice about sex, and with this choice comes the responsibility to behave with discretion. They also have the responsibility to make wise decisions on behalf of their children, born or unborn.

If we are to protect women from exploitation and abortion, we must address these problems at their roots. We must counter the trends of promiscuity and imprudence that bring forth hundreds of unwanted pregnancies. We must oppose the idea that it is okay to take the life of an innocent person simply because they are not yet born. In order to accomplish this, we must help people see the truth about their great worth and responsibility as humans. We will not eradicate abortion from our society until we can infiltrate it with an understanding of the value and dignity that belongs to every human being.

Reflections on a Challenging Semester: "Why Think?"

I’m finding that one of my favorite things in life are the lessons—lessons entail growth and truth, and they remind me that life is an adventurous journey toward knowing and loving a most awesome God. As with any adventure, life is certainly not lacking in challenges, and it is through these challenges that we learn and grow. My high school youth pastor always used to urge us not merely to be challenged, but to be changed. I’ve come to realize that the two are linked: when we are truly challenged, we cannot help but be truly changed. This seems to be the way in which we proceed along our journey. Some of the greatest lessons take place when we are challenged in our thinking. When our thoughts and beliefs are challenged, we are forced to wrestle with the truth, and through this we grow in the knowledge of it. College has brought more challenge to my thinking than ever before, and it has been the most growth-producing experience of my life.

This last semester, I was challenged in my approach to academia—in my thinking about thinking, so to speak. I’d always held the life of the intellect in high regard, having been raised to value academic pursuit, and I took it for granted that this pursuit would pay off in the achievement of a most good and happy life. Circumstances over the past year have caused me to question this, however. I learned that the good life cannot be attained with the intellect alone, but must also rely on faith. I’ve come into contact with tons of people who don’t emphasize an intellectual pursuit of God, but who have faith, love God, and are good Christians. If genuine faith and love for God are the key traits of a “good Christian,” then why think? Why invest myself in a pursuit of understanding that appeared only to be leading me deeper into the knowledge of my own ignorance? These are the questions I was asking. The answers I’ve found have brought me into a deeper love of God, humanity and academia.

I realized that I’d drawn a false dichotomy between what it means to be a “good Christian” and what it means to be a “fulfilled human.” I feared that the necessity of faith in the Christian’s life would nullify the necessity of reason, and that my emphasis on reason might distract me from carrying out the Christian life. On the other hand, I would not consider one who neglected reason to be living well as a human being: meaningful activity of the intellect is important to fulfillment as a human. Reason is that which separates man from the rest of creation, and as a definitive characteristic, it is essential to our identity and wellbeing. Furthermore, reason is a faculty instilled in us by God—a way in which we as humanity manifest the image of our most glorious creator. And this is where the connection lies. If Christianity is redeemed humanity, what can that mean but that we must live in the fulfillment of who God created us to be? We are to exist with reason, emotion and will all flourishing in a relationship of worship with Him. This is the Christian life—indeed, the life of the fulfilled human.

I must acknowledge that I am far from understanding all the details of how this life is to be carried out. I do know, however, that God is glorified through our use of the mind, and as we trust in Him, He will guide us in further into His truth and love. In light of this, I thank God for the challenges that forced me to grow in this understanding—I worship God, marvel at humanity created in His image, and look towards the next academic semester with a renewed passion for the life of the mind.