May 31, 2007
the 41
For Funke and others, here's an extended entry from one of Dr. Barker's chapel addresses.
Excerpted from Dr. Barker’s “How My Mind Has Changed” speech. (October 13, 2004. Covenant College)
I now turn from the how to the what of my changes of mind. I shall present these in the form of forty-one mostly unrelated aphorisms, each beginning with the expression “I have come to believe…”
1. I have come to believe that words hurt longer than sticks and stones.
2. I have come to believe that it is not important whether I wear a coat and tie when I speak in chapel.
3. I have come to believe that it is of very little consequence whether the Atlanta Braves win the National League Eastern Division title.
4. I have come to believe that though long-range planning is prudential, God designed us to live in day-tight compartments.
5. I have come to believe that I would do well to focus more on enjoying God than on anxiously attempting to glorify Him.
6. I have come to believe, in accordance with Proverbs 10:23, that wickedness is no more a sport to a fool than wisdom is fun for a person of understanding.
7. I have come to believe that I will probably never in this life outgrow my doubts.
8. I have come to believe that though it is not inferable from the Bible, retirement is a good idea.
9. I have come to believe that prayer is incalculably important.
10. I have come to believe that the traditional wedding vows say all that needs to be said at a wedding.
11. I have come to believe that “They got married and lived happily ever after” is an admirable goal and a dangerous illusion.
12. I have come to believe that, as Edmund Spenser wrote, “… blisse may not abide in state of mortall men” (Faerie Queene, I, vii, and 44).
13. I have come to believe that although ideas have consequences, so does digestion.
14. I have come to believe that what is new is not always progress.
15. I have come to believe that what is new is not to be rejected just because it is new.
16. I have come to believe that change is often necessary, is almost always painful, and usually comes with no guarantee that it is right.
17. I have come to believe that a zeal for control causes serious damage.
18. I have come to believe that those who recognize and are willing to work on the dysfunctionality of their families and themselves have a long head start on the rest of us.
19. I have come to believe that the influence of birth-order in one’s family is ignored at our own peril and the peril of others who are important to us.
20. I have come to believe that the people I know best and love the most (including myself) are the people I know the least.
21. I have come to believe that we dangerously confuse our finiteness with our fallenness.
22. I have come to believe that though we appropriately long for perfection, the inadequacies, the incompleteness, and the imperfection of this life aren’t always so very bad.
23. I have come to believe that one of my most serious sins is unthankfulness.
24. I have come to believe that it is less enlightened to pray, “Lord, help me to know the right thing to do” than to pray, “Lord, help me to do the right thing.”
25. I have come to believe that biblical single-mindedness resides no closer to the rigidity of the obsessive than it does to the scatter of hysteria.
26. I have come to believe that our thinking would be clearer and our discourse more gracious if we declared a two-year moratorium on the expressions “Reformed,” “Calvinistic,” “the integration of faith and learning,” “world views,” “the antithesis,” and “common grace.”
27. I have come to believe that those of us who are most at home in our own tradition have a lot to learn from Lutherans, Episcopalians, Roman Catholics, and Pentacostalists.
28. I have come to believe, with Lewis Smedes, that being right is not the most important thing in life; being forgiven is.
29. I have come to believe that the dogged pursuit of Cartesian certitude has been a devastation to my soul.
30. I have come to believe that many people, Christians and unbelievers alike, live a lot better than their theories and doctrines.
31. I have come to believe that many people, Christians and unbelievers alike, live a lot worse than their theories and doctrines.
32. I have come to believe that, as God designed Tiger Woods and Vijay Singh to be golfers, Barry Bonds to be a batter, and Greg Maddux to be a pitcher, He designed—not at such a lofty level but equally importantly—my wife to be a gardener and me to be a reader (and, who knows, maybe a poet).
33. I have come to believe that if I could produce 100 truly good poems, that would trump 25 years of college administration and 45 years of college teaching.
34. I have come to believe that being smart is not as important as being good—not even close.
35. I have come to believe that my obsessive desire for attention and approval has been a devastation to my soul.
36. I have come to believe that desperately trying in the wrong ways to be special has come close to shipwrecking my soul.
37. I have come to believe that I am special (as is each of you).
38. I have come to believe that self-deprecation, self-abnegation, self-abasement, and self-effacement are not the same as Christlike self-denial and self-sacrifice and are insults to our Creator and Savior.
39. I have come to believe that though without Christ I as a sinner deserved the wrath and curse of God, I did not deserve to be sexually molested as a boy.
40. I have come to believe that healthy life in the community, life in the body of Christ, fosters individuality but condemns individualism.
41. I have come to believe that, as Proverbs 29:11 says, “A fool vents all his feelings, / But a wise man holds them back.” And so
it seems to me appropriate to conclude by quoting what is, I think, my shortest poem, a poem almost as short as its title:
Contrition
I
Regret
Words.
May 28, 2007
bearing bad news
i just heard dr. nick barker has a progressive cancer and that he's going downhill. how can this be? i don't like it. a friend on facebook posted a list of 41 aphorisms he gave in a 2004 speech, along with an update on his health. i read it all very slowly.
a person like this going out of the world suddenly seems to up the stakes for the rest of us. we've known that we're all dying since we were young, of course, that people are getting older and that we're going to lose the things that they have to teach us. when that time starts to get closer, though, it always seems to shake us.
i've been feeling this way for awhile, really, because of a family member's health. but the news about dr. barker brought all that to the surface, maybe because i hadn't had awhile to get used to it. we always pray for healing and commit our loved ones to the lord's keeping. even so, we still tense up when someone calls us out of the blue with that "bad news" tone in their voice. with me, there's a little bit of guilt like there was something i could have been doing which i've neglected to do, a little bit of anxiety like there's some responsibility i should now take upon myself for the situation, and a little bit of self-centered fear – what does this mean for me? none of that seems very consistent with the faith i profess.
what is there to do? what do you say when you call? do you talk about them as if it's all over? do you root for them in the teeth of the evidence? do you pick up and move to where they are? do you make them food? i know what my theology has to say about this, and i'm clinging to those things. but right now i just want to know what's the best way to honor someone you love when things are coming to a close.
May 26, 2007
quote of the day
"Spirit of God,
descend upon my heart,
wean it from earth, through all its pulses move;
stoop to my weakness,
mighty as you are,
and make me love you as I ought to love.
"I ask no dream,
no prophet ecstasies,
no sudden rending of the veil of clay,
no angel visitant,
no opening skies;
but take the dimness of my soul away."
George Croly, 1854
May 24, 2007
quote of the day
E: "Hey do we need a freezer for our new place?"
T: "We already have one, don't we?"
E: "It's just a fridge. Anyway, J and M offered us one if we want it."
T: "YES, we need a freezer, because we're going to need ICE CREAM... and FROZEN PIZZAS."
(I like these people.)
May 23, 2007
a processing post
Today I woke up early, since a friend was coming over at 7 am (!!!) to use my internet connection. (He was going to use it to call his would-be girlfriend in Romania, whose parents are against the match and whose parents would be away from the house at said time. Being a big softy, I threw propriety to the wind and said it would be fine with me.) I had planned to use this friend's visit to try getting up early, for a change, maybe starting with a brisk walk to the bakery to get croissants for breakfast.
He didn't show. I went back to bed and slept until 10. No croissants.
I later got a call from my temporary boss saying he wanted to meet tomorrow with another teammate. That means I'll have things scheduled ALL DAY LONG. I nearly cried, I was so happy. Coming off last weekend's constant social activity into the solitude of my cold-culture-city was rough.
My daily-people-quota is a high one. Through the roof. Not having it met feels the same as having an idol taken away: threatening, frightening and depressing. The answer, I reckon, isn't just to become less of a people-driven-person, though that would help. It also has to involve spending more time with people.
That's going to mean being creative. And being counter-cultural (where Americans typically get themselves into trouble).
May 21, 2007
retreat!
I spent the past weekend with this group of fascinating people. Believe it or not, they're even funner than they look. More pictures here, thanks to EL.
May 13, 2007
poem of the week
Twilight: After Haying
Yes, long shadows go out
from the bales; and yes, the soul
must part from the body:
what else could it do?
The men sprawl near the baler,
too tired to leave the field.
They talk and smoke,
and the tips of their cigarettes
blaze like small roses
in the night air. (It arrived
and settled among them
before they were aware.)
The moon comes
to count the bales,
and the dispossessed—
Whip-poor-will, Whip-poor-will
—sings from the dusty stubble.
These things happen ... the soul's bliss
and suffering are bound together
like the grasses ...
The last, sweet exhalations
of timothy and vetch
go out with the song of the bird;
the ravaged field
grows wet with dew.
Poem: "Twilight: After Haying" by Jane Kenyon from Otherwise: New & Selected Poems. © Graywolf Press, 1997. Found in this past week's Writer's Almanac.
May 12, 2007
my parents are so cool
Mom and Dad attended the weiner dog races last weekend in Buda, Texas. Here are two of my favorite shots, from Dad. Apparently there was a parade before the races and a bbq afterwards. I think this could really catch on in my corner of Europe... people love their dogs here almost as much as they love their children, I think. The only problem would be shooing up interest. Hmm. Clearly I need a national partner who can help me think through the cultural and marketing issues.
May 11, 2007
blackcurrant tea
It's one of those days the details of which I'll remember later as representative of a place or a season in life. Getting out of bed took a long time. Then it was market day, full of complicated shopping details. I walked to the OM center in the rain, holding my running clothes and shoes, and hit the coffee first thing. Turns out I came in the middle of a mass-mailing effort. Everyone greeted me warmly and I ended up stuffing envelopes awhile.
Now I'm drinking blackcurrant tea, munching on biscuits from Aldi, and wrapping up business details so I can go run. People keep passing by and interrupting me, which I love. The sun is now drying everything out and I'm listening to Sufjan:
"You make it beautiful, friend. You make it worth it, to the end. You put a hole in my head, just like you put a fire in the tree.
"Ever since dawn, ever since when you put the note in my pocket again and you said you wanted to meet me at three, I was invited for once..."
May 10, 2007
(nervous laughter)
heh heh heh... just got this old photo in an email from evan. i'm sure i don't know who it is. probably some refugee... heh heh heh...
May 07, 2007
from sm3 to deep reflection in 60 seconds
Today I saw the third Spiderman movie, SM3. Really flashy. Loads of thrills. Instant international blockbuster. They even sell spidey-burgers at the local fast-food establishment, these days. You can understand if I went in with the highest of expectations.
I’m not sure if I have a take, yet, but here are my preliminary thoughts. As my fellow spider-watcher observed, the movie made a big shift from the smart action of the first two movies to heavy drama. I wasn’t ready for that, but the more I think about it, this kind of tele-novella-esque intensity seems normal in all the comic books, maybe even requisite. Main character has just evaded certain death... major conflict has been only temporarily postponed... hero spends time being emotionally dysfunctional with others or self-destructive when alone...
I mean, it always seemed to work for Wolverine.
While all the drama with MJ and best-friend-worst-enemy Harry was unfolding onscreen, I found myself covering the movie-makers’ collective tails by citing this kind of comic-book excuse. (“Of course they’re not behaving like normal people would; we’re in an illustrated world.”) As a cinematic endeavor, then, I’m not sure what to think of SM3. Motivation, character development, plot, and photography all left something to be desired. But as a comic book, I’d buy it. It’s got that certain air of we-know-life-isn’t-this-way-but-we-want-to-tell-it-like-this-because-it’s-more-fun.
The whole idea of people with super-powers is based on that feeling, I think. Super-powered individuals sure don’t make good boyfriends, as we find out in SM3, but they sure are likable. (Hence my excitement upon seeing the HP&TOOTP preview for the very first time. Ah, the inexpressible shrieks of delight and anticipation!) They’re also people with whom we find it astonishingly easy to relate, based I’m sure on our own dreams of pushing past the boundaries life gives us. They can climb buildings! They can throw cars! And they sure can take a good beating and get right back up.
This might seem like a non-sequitur, but at the moment I’m working my way through Reading Lolita in Tehran. The author Azar Nafisi deals with the problem of liking brutal novels by categorizing them as fairy tales, as did Lolita’s author, Vladimir Nabokov, before her. Despite the sometimes weak and cruel elements of great novels, she and her students read them with relish. Like fairy tales, their reading list was full of cruel stepmother figures and twists of fate, but also magical moments of individuals pushing past their situations. In many instances, this individual magician is the author herself or himself, describing cruelty in ways that belligerently highlight compassion or a belief in justice for the truly revolutionary acts that they are.
Call me crazy, but I see this idea of revolutionary acts (or “the push,” as I like to think of it) in the Spiderman movies, as well. Any story about a super-hero has access to this powerful idea of pushing against fate, even the simplest stories like the comic books we read (and are now able to watch). The idea that individuals are not required to accept what life hands them has been so deeply ingrained in my own culture of origin as to become practically an assumption. When set in bas-relief against a totalitarian regime, a persecuted minority, or cycles of institutional poverty, however, the idea becomes more stark, something between a slap in the face and a short fall into very cold water. People can push back? Is it possible?
But now I have to stop feeling good for oppressed people and put the question to myself, in my own context: can people change? The truth is that, if we’re going to be honest, they can’t. Not really. Nothing I’ve seen in my brief experience of the human condition supports that idea. We’re bound by the things we own, the people whose approval we crave, the things we feel like we owe to God, the expectations we need to meet, or the stuff others say about us. Trying to extract ourselves from this bondage is just like flailing about in quicksand: it only makes things worse.
This is what makes us all wish that we could shoot spiderweb from our wrists or fly or run really fast or at least have celebrity status in the media. This is what also makes us pick over the lives of movie stars and rock stars, simultaneously wanting to worship them as super-people and hating them for being what we could never be. We are seriously stuck in patterns of self-delusion and meaninglessness, unable to know or articulate either truth or meaning but feeling all the same that such things ought to be.
Let’s make a movie about THAT. And let’s call it the power of the gospel in my life, turning me from a slave that takes his beating into a son who inherits the earth. I recently had to write out a personal definition of faith. Here’s part of it: “I can do all things through Christ, because I believe he has taken my sinful record and given me a spotless one; he has taken my stony heart and given me a heart of flesh; and he has taken death and given me life. This strengthens me [to push back against the world]. These things convince me that I do not have to live in slavery. They convince me that God is at work in deeply caring and profoundly powerful ways.”
May 03, 2007
imminent disruption
...just found this, from the picnic. it seemed like it was happening in slow motion: the fixing of attention, the slow crawl, the fingers reaching for the ear. it was a great moment.