Closing up shop.
Well, this is it. I've given up on blogging. I'm out of words. Farewell!
Blogroll Broken
It seems my blogroll has gone missing. I pull it off Blogrolling.com, so maybe they changed the way they distribute blogrolls. Never fear, my links to finer blogs across the world will return — hopefully sooner than later.
Late Night Haiku XXI
LVIII. Silent happiness
Instills a sense of mourning
For the noise of joy.
LIX. The birds did sing then,
As they do now, flowers bloom.
But how diff'rent then!
LX. Water glistens now,
Puddle in the water bottle,
One last time. Empty.
All Things that Move Between the Quiet Poles
For my Spiritual and Ministry Formation class, each student has to post a response to the week's reading on a class forum. I thought I might repost some of my entries here (prewritten blog material, woo-hoo!). The following one is responding to a section from the first half of Sinclair Ferguson's Children of the Living God.
Ferguson relates problems coming after adoption by God to a battle where biological parents try to gain back the child they gave up to be adopted (37). Just as the natural parents attempt to argue why it is much better for the child to be returned to them, so too Satan tries to persuade us that we would be better off returning to the kingdom of the world. The deceiver tries to persuade us, Ferguson explains, by attempting to show us “how much […we…] have lost by” accepting Christ and convincing us that even attempting to live up to God’s standards will accomplish nothing other than to make us hypocrites (38). Ferguson reminds us that Satan does these things out of futile desperation and to remember that this is normal.
Human nature has always strived to go beyond what God has intended for us, thinking we are missing out on things if we do not. From the fall, after the temptation of the serpent (Gen. 3.6), onward, one of the Devil’s best tactics has been to suggest that humans are missing out on something good and worthwhile by listening to God.
I think perhaps one of the most poignant, powerful portrayals of this comes from Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, the story – surprisingly enough – of Dr. John Faustus. Faustus yearns for knowledge, and after becoming bored with philosophy, medicine and theology, is drawn to the occult. The books that grant him knowledge of how to control the spirit world are “heavenly,” and Faustus says of his new pursuit, “Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires” (1.49). To gain the ultimate in power, he strikes a deal with Mephistophilis to sell his soul for a limited time of gaining power over “all things that move between the quiet poles.” He has fallen to the temptation that Ferguson points to in our book, and he believes the testimony of the “evil angel” that tells him he is missing out on “all Nature’s treasure.” And so, he sets out on his deal; but he comes to realize it was a trick and by the end of his deal, he remarks, “For vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity” (14.16).
Too often in today’s world we take the attacks of our adversary to be purely metaphorical, the stuff of morality plays (a tradition Marlowe draws on for Faustus) and other more “primitive” modes of expression. We must keep this in mind and, as Paul tells us, “Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil” (Eph. 6.11 ESV). Ultimately, the devil cannot separate us from the love of God (Rom. 8.35-38); as Ferguson notes, “we need not fear” (38). Nevertheless, it is still good to recall that we are in the midst of battle, for that helps make sense of the problems we face and the temptations that come our way.
To use the cliché, the grass always does seem greener on the other side. How is it that temptations about how much better it would be to commit this or that sin can seem so true at first? Perhaps, as Ferguson notes, I have “an ingrained sense that it is the old family, not the new, to which [I] belong naturally” (37). Though I am adopted by God, the affects of my sinful nature are still “biologically there.” And then there is the second salvo after one succumbs to temptation, which Ferguson puts aptly to words as, “you simply can’t keep up these standards … and you would be a hypocrite if you gave the impression you were really wanting to” (38). Despite being called on to fall on the love of Christ by those around him, Faustus listened to the devil’s lie (16.11). At the times I should run back to God in repentance it is often that second temptation to think that I simply cannot repent and turn back to God that is worse than the first! Again, the only thing that can help is to turn to Grace and be cleaned by it. Like Peter, I may fall many times and appear very hypocritical, but the amazing, awe-filling message of the Gospel is that Satan is wrong when he tries to suggest my inability to become perfect means I should give up!
To Fedora or Not to Fedora
I'm presently trying to figure out what Linux distro to install on my church's library computer. It has been running Mandrake 9.2 for some years now, and as it is in for a “overhaul,” I thought I should give it a new OS. I was going to do Ubuntu, but I cannot even get Ubuntu to startup all the way, which makes it impossible to get to the installer. I think that is because the system only has 128 megs of ram.
As such, I was trying to decide between Fedora Core 6 and openSUSE 10.2 My main goal is to go with a system that will require minimal effort from me. I also am insisting on GNOME as the desktop (well, it is going to be a web kiosk, so primarily all the user will see is Firefox, but I digress). I think I'm going to go with FC6, but I'm open to those who want to persuade me otherwise. I'm really not too keen on the idea of an OS that uses anything other than RPM or DEB packages, but that too is negotiable, if anyone can come up with a good reason why I should try something else. The big thing is time: I need it to work as a desktop out of the box without any X11 tinkering or anything else of that kind.
Thoughts?
Rumors of My Demise...
…have been greatly exaggerated. Again. I'm still here, I've just been very busy on a web development project. I'm hoping to find time to blog on some theological topics soon. Particularly, “mystery,” the term “practical theology” and other odds and ends. One of these days, I need to return to my attempt to define what the word literature means too.
Joining the Local Chapter
Well, as long as Jason is doing it, I might as well too.
Hi, I'm Tim. And I'm a Calvinist.
I think Jason makes an astute observation about the inconsistencies that can occur in theology when one rejects total depravity. It strikes me that every theologian that comes to my mind that has actually created a systematic, consistent understanding of the Christian faith has generally had to accept the basic understandings of the state of humans and election that the Reformed faith eventually claimed as its own. I myself struggle at times with parts of TULIP, and have only in recent years accepted that I am clearly unable to will my own way out of Calvinism (that's a joke, folks), but in the end, the things I cannot explain in Reformed doctrine are not nearly as difficult as those things I would need to deal with should I reject this stream of theology.
Total depravity is probably the easiest of the five points to accept for me. It may be that humans are capable of mortal good, or the appearance thereof, but I thoroughly believe that humanity is capable of absolutely no spiritual good without the inner working of the Holy Spirit.
So, Jason, did you bring the donuts for the meeting?
The God Delusion
No less than three people tied to my alma mater, Lindenwood, took the time to invite me to a two part Coffee Conversation there. The last one was last spring when I presented a talk on religious pluralism, so it has been a little while since I have had the pleasure to sit in on such an event. The first part was today and covered the first of two videos produced by that epitome of reasonable dialogue on the issue of religion, Richard Dawkins. It was interesting. Dawkins was, well, Dawkinsish, and he was properly and robustly rebutted by the panel of faculty that presented arguments after the 48 minute film.
The conversation after the panel was good as well. I am not quite sure why anyone would take Dawkins's arguments seriously, but they did serve to get a good conversation stated on the general corruption of human nature. A tulip could have almost sprang out of that!
I'll Be Returning Shortly, Hopefully (Insert More Adverbs Here)
Well, as I posted on my Facebook status:
Timothy is celebrating that “ἡ δευτερη θλιπσις της κοινη ἑλενικιας εστι τελος” (the second tributation of Koine Greek is finished).
Less cryptically, I finished the second exam for Greek class. These are take home exams, but they are on the honor system as closed book and limited to 2.5 hours in length. I ended up taking less than an hour to complete the exam and another forty five minutes or so to do two checks of all my answers.
So, given that, I might have a bit more flexibility of time. Plus, spring break is next week. After Friday, I'll be off from classes until Monday, March 26. On that day, one of my two classes is canceled, so I just have an evening class. Then, the next day of class (Wednesday, March 28) is canceled for “campus day,” meaning my first full day back will be two weeks after spring break started (Friday, March 30). Then, to make things even more interesting, I have both Good Friday and Easter Monday off, and I never have classes on Thursdays or Tuesdays, so I'll have another week off about a week later. With all the time off, hopefully I can catch up on stuff for my seminary classes, plus get some other things done.
Burning burning burning burning
I'm not sure why, but spring is making me melancholy this year even while I am glad to see its arrival. With that in mind, I must revisit my good friend Eliot.
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
I cannot even begin to comprehend “the Wasteland,” which is why — perhaps — it appeals so much to me. (As noted before, someone wishing to explain the above quote would do well to checkout “the Prologue” to Chaucer's the Canterbury Tales.) However, the entire sense of disconnect and the eventual deterioration of communication as the narrator falls more and more into transitions between languages (Eliot showing off his vast skills, of course!) seems somehow powerful to me. It is as if Eliot grants us the opportunity to open up someone's head and glance into the madness instilled by the Great War. But, more than that, I think it describes to some sense that disconnect that goes with the modern world in general.
There is a sense of desperation that tinges every line and permeates it with a sense of imminent destruction. There is a cry for help, and Eliot, not yet a believer, still poignantly focuses, ever so slightly on the intervention of God, when he does his interesting interlacing of the Buddha's “Fire Sermon” with St. Augustine's Confessions:
To Carthage then I came
Burning burning burning burning
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest
burning
These lines strike me perhaps more than any other in the poem. Although tonight, some lines that appear above it strike my fancy:
But at my back from time to time I hear
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.
These are interesting for their allusion. Eliot, by the admission of his own endnote admits that this is a reference to Marvell's “To His Coy Mistress.” But, instead of “time's wingéd chariot,” Eliot gives us “the sound of horns and motors.” Is this a suggestion that modernism has destroyed man's ability to hear something beautiful? While time might be horrifying, how much more so hearing a mere cacophony of machines?
That'd be my guess.
