I decline to crowd-source my conscience.
I decline to believe what you say because you are shouting it, or because you are numerous.
I decline to be guilt-tripped for events or circumstances I had no hand in bringing about;
I also decline to avoid responsibility for my own actions.
I decline to "indulge myself"; it only leads to weakness.
I decline to believe I am entitled to anything from the world merely because I was born.
I decline to accept that being successful puts one in society's debt;
I also decline to ignore my duty to love others.
I decline to follow the hype.
I decline to perpetuate what is false.
I decline to accept average in myself if I know I can do better;
I also decline to join in accepting the lowest common denominator as average.
I decline to subvert my faith to the whims of society.
I decline to keep silent when the truth should be heard.
I decline to make excuses for myself when I fail;
I also decline to hold anyone to a higher standard than that to which I hold myself.
I decline to stop pursuing Truth.
I decline to withhold forgiveness; it was Not Withheld from me.
I decline to pretend disagreement is intolerance;
I also decline to pretend tolerance is love.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
A Prayer for America, April 19th 2013
Sovereign Lord, who lifts up nations and brings them down
again, in whose hands the rulers of every nation are but streams of water, today I
lift up our nation to You.
Holy God, we have violated Your decrees, and we have slandered Your name. We have sinned against You in every way, and glorified these sins in our culture as praiseworthy. We have pretended to uphold Your name, then turned and acted in a manner unworthy to be identified with it. We have said “in God we trust,” yet our trust has been in our wealth, in our power, in our political system and the freedoms we take for granted.
Lord of life, we have not respected human life, made in Your image, but have allowed a culture of death to prevail. Our entertainment grants legitimacy to men of violence, while the blood of millions of infants denied a chance at life cries out from the ground, demanding justice. We have given the care of both our children and our elderly over to the government, avoiding our responsibility for both. We have objectified and not loved our enemies, and corrupted our system of justice so that many guilty not only go free, but profit from their crimes. We have glorified greed and made commitment-free sex a cultural trademark. We have idolized the pursuit of a happy and comfortable life, and accepted the lie that life’s decisions can be made without consequences for ourselves or for future generations.
Lord God, we in the church have not stood firm, but have been complacent, content to decry society’s evils while risking little to combat them. We who have preached against self-centeredness and hate have not lived or loved sacrificially, and we who have preached holiness have put the world first. Reversing Your commands, we have been of the world yet not in it; we have avoided the world to confine ourselves in our own communities, yet copied its styles and ways for our own use. We have asked “who is my neighbor” and not loved them as ourselves, and we have not loved and exalted You above all else.
Merciful Lord, today I dare not say “God bless America,” for surely our sins as a nation merit only our own condemnation. Lord we recognize that we were never Your chosen people, that our nation was conceived in sin like every other, and that like every nation, the decisions of our people and leaders have at times caused much grief both in our own land and abroad. We recognize too that the glorification of sin which pervades our popular culture has been promoted in much of the world, leading them astray as well.
Yet I beg You, O Lord, according to your infinite grace and for the sake of Your people who dwell here, and for the sake of the great work which You have done in working through us to bring multitudes among the nations into Your kingdom- please let Your name be made greater in our nation.
Lord we pray not merely for revival, but for the advancement of the gospel into new territory in our nation. We pray that children would be raised to worship and glorify Your name, and that you would bring down leaders who promote ungodliness and raise up those who acknowledge Your truth. We pray that the Spirit would stir up our churches, that believers would wake from their slumber and go forth to be salt and light, and that even the darkest strongholds of the enemy in our culture would be shaken by the prayers of Your saints.
Amen.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Snapshot Syndrome: How to avoid fossilization
It can happen to anyone:
Upon his entry into a new, strange culture, the curious traveler absorbs as much information as he can. Smarter than most, he quickly adapts by studying the ways of the locals, practicing their language and customs, learning the local landmarks. Soon he knows where to find the bargains, where the dangerous places to avoid are, what you can and can't get and who you can get it from. Over the years, as new outsiders arrive, he quickly educates them on the ways of this place; ways he has already long become accustomed to and even adept at practicing.
But just around the time that the authority of his experience should remain unquestioned, his knowledge and savvy provide invaluable insight to new arrivals, those greenhorns begin questioning his advice. Not openly at first; they nod appreciatively and even take notes, asking him many questions. But soon he notices that they leave sooner, and even begin giving advice to other even newer arrivals. As if they know; they've barely begun to get beyond the surface of the culture, weren't here during the crisis of a few years ago, or the centennial celebrations. And to make matters worse, their (probably mis-) information is preferred to his! A little bitterness creeps in as our seasoned expatriate decides it's simply a problem of youth not appreciating experience. But wait, he thinks, they will come to me when they can't find what they need; when the comforts their generation has come to appreciate are lacking, they will need my knowledge about where to go to find what they need. And when they can't form meaningful working relationships with their coworkers, they'll have to come to me to learn the cultural mentality that lies under the surface here. I'm still needed, he decides, and is nonplussed when the newcomers seem to thrive without his instruction, though at times they still seek it.
Our friend in the scenario described above has fallen prey to snapshot syndrome: the strong initial impression of a new place and culture formed during the time following arrival, which can all-too-easily harden like concrete into a permanent impression which becomes less and less like current reality the more time passes. An experienced expatriate with snapshot syndrome may inform new arrivals that "you can't get that here" or "the locals aren't interested in foreigners except to take advantage of them," when in reality there is a new electronics store on the other side of the city which sells the very product they seek, or the new generation who did not grow up under the old regime are less close-minded and welcome outsiders, and might even speak some of their language.
Snapshot syndrome is especially tricky in that those who form the strongest initial connections with a culture and place can be most susceptible to it; it is they who have the strongest and most distinct picture in their mind of things as they were at the time of their arrival, and that picture can therefore endure most effectively.
So how to avoid it? More experienced culture-learners than I will have better advice than I can offer, but I submit that a two-fold procedure may go far in warding off its petrifying effects:
1. Recognize and internalize the fact that things are always changing everywhere.
At all times, every culture, place, even language, is undergoing a series of mostly imperceptible changes which over time will transform it considerably. Some places change very slowly, others seem to morph repeatedly overnight. Being aware of this will inspire any expat wanting to stay up-to-speed to view cultural learning as a continual process, not only something for "fresh off the boat" newcomers, or a "rite of passage" after which one is a seasoned veteran. Take time every so often to refresh your viewpoint, even do a little intentional tourism, asking yourself what this place would look like to new eyes. Likely, you will be unable to see it from a truly outside perspective by this point, but you will be just as likely to pick up some useful insights into how things have changed.
2. Be an equal-opportunity learner.
If you have adopted the mindset in part 1, you are likely to be willing to practice part 2: Learn from anyone you can. Students are excellent reflectors of popular culture in most locales, and in many parts of the developed world they are drivers of cultural change as well. If a good opportunity to learn from them arises, don't hesitate to take this chance to inform yourself. (One may not be able to act on all the knowledge; after all few things are more repellant to young students than an older person who tries to act like them; but what you glean may be something useful and it certainly may prove useful to others)
Media is another great source; you don't have to enjoy certain styles of music or film to learn from them. (But beware of accepting the media as too reliable of a witness, or you may fall into the same trap as some of my international friends, and confuse Hollywood for real American culture. Ironically, sometimes the form of media is more informative than its content when looking for cultural insights)
Another unsuspected source of knowledge may actually be those new arrivals we've mentioned. Get their impressions. Some will be ignorant or misinformed, but don't immediately reject anything which clashes with your more experienced take; maybe something has changed. It might take a bit of humility to be 'taught' by those who have much to learn from you, but pride goes before a fall, after all.
So there you have it: don't be a fossil. Recognize that there is much you never knew to begin with, honestly. Most populated areas have things going on here and there that many locals won't know about either, and as a stranger coming in you may find that you have to learn systematically what many locals have merely done as the occasion arises, and therefore come to more thorough understanding of things like the public transportation system than the locals typically demonstrate. But this works both ways; as an outsider you can never learn enough to have grown up here, and therefore there will almost certainly be things locals take for granted which you are unfamiliar with, having arrived late to the game. So stay humble, stay teachable, and maybe those new arrivals won't find the local picture you paint for them to be a suspicious shade of sepia...
Upon his entry into a new, strange culture, the curious traveler absorbs as much information as he can. Smarter than most, he quickly adapts by studying the ways of the locals, practicing their language and customs, learning the local landmarks. Soon he knows where to find the bargains, where the dangerous places to avoid are, what you can and can't get and who you can get it from. Over the years, as new outsiders arrive, he quickly educates them on the ways of this place; ways he has already long become accustomed to and even adept at practicing.
But just around the time that the authority of his experience should remain unquestioned, his knowledge and savvy provide invaluable insight to new arrivals, those greenhorns begin questioning his advice. Not openly at first; they nod appreciatively and even take notes, asking him many questions. But soon he notices that they leave sooner, and even begin giving advice to other even newer arrivals. As if they know; they've barely begun to get beyond the surface of the culture, weren't here during the crisis of a few years ago, or the centennial celebrations. And to make matters worse, their (probably mis-) information is preferred to his! A little bitterness creeps in as our seasoned expatriate decides it's simply a problem of youth not appreciating experience. But wait, he thinks, they will come to me when they can't find what they need; when the comforts their generation has come to appreciate are lacking, they will need my knowledge about where to go to find what they need. And when they can't form meaningful working relationships with their coworkers, they'll have to come to me to learn the cultural mentality that lies under the surface here. I'm still needed, he decides, and is nonplussed when the newcomers seem to thrive without his instruction, though at times they still seek it.
Our friend in the scenario described above has fallen prey to snapshot syndrome: the strong initial impression of a new place and culture formed during the time following arrival, which can all-too-easily harden like concrete into a permanent impression which becomes less and less like current reality the more time passes. An experienced expatriate with snapshot syndrome may inform new arrivals that "you can't get that here" or "the locals aren't interested in foreigners except to take advantage of them," when in reality there is a new electronics store on the other side of the city which sells the very product they seek, or the new generation who did not grow up under the old regime are less close-minded and welcome outsiders, and might even speak some of their language.
Snapshot syndrome is especially tricky in that those who form the strongest initial connections with a culture and place can be most susceptible to it; it is they who have the strongest and most distinct picture in their mind of things as they were at the time of their arrival, and that picture can therefore endure most effectively.
So how to avoid it? More experienced culture-learners than I will have better advice than I can offer, but I submit that a two-fold procedure may go far in warding off its petrifying effects:
1. Recognize and internalize the fact that things are always changing everywhere.
At all times, every culture, place, even language, is undergoing a series of mostly imperceptible changes which over time will transform it considerably. Some places change very slowly, others seem to morph repeatedly overnight. Being aware of this will inspire any expat wanting to stay up-to-speed to view cultural learning as a continual process, not only something for "fresh off the boat" newcomers, or a "rite of passage" after which one is a seasoned veteran. Take time every so often to refresh your viewpoint, even do a little intentional tourism, asking yourself what this place would look like to new eyes. Likely, you will be unable to see it from a truly outside perspective by this point, but you will be just as likely to pick up some useful insights into how things have changed.
2. Be an equal-opportunity learner.
If you have adopted the mindset in part 1, you are likely to be willing to practice part 2: Learn from anyone you can. Students are excellent reflectors of popular culture in most locales, and in many parts of the developed world they are drivers of cultural change as well. If a good opportunity to learn from them arises, don't hesitate to take this chance to inform yourself. (One may not be able to act on all the knowledge; after all few things are more repellant to young students than an older person who tries to act like them; but what you glean may be something useful and it certainly may prove useful to others)
Media is another great source; you don't have to enjoy certain styles of music or film to learn from them. (But beware of accepting the media as too reliable of a witness, or you may fall into the same trap as some of my international friends, and confuse Hollywood for real American culture. Ironically, sometimes the form of media is more informative than its content when looking for cultural insights)
Another unsuspected source of knowledge may actually be those new arrivals we've mentioned. Get their impressions. Some will be ignorant or misinformed, but don't immediately reject anything which clashes with your more experienced take; maybe something has changed. It might take a bit of humility to be 'taught' by those who have much to learn from you, but pride goes before a fall, after all.
So there you have it: don't be a fossil. Recognize that there is much you never knew to begin with, honestly. Most populated areas have things going on here and there that many locals won't know about either, and as a stranger coming in you may find that you have to learn systematically what many locals have merely done as the occasion arises, and therefore come to more thorough understanding of things like the public transportation system than the locals typically demonstrate. But this works both ways; as an outsider you can never learn enough to have grown up here, and therefore there will almost certainly be things locals take for granted which you are unfamiliar with, having arrived late to the game. So stay humble, stay teachable, and maybe those new arrivals won't find the local picture you paint for them to be a suspicious shade of sepia...
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
We, the Air-Conditioned
My apartment's air-conditioning has been broken for over two weeks now. Despite multiple work orders put in, it has not been repaired. Now that summer is upon us in Dallas, the apartment is reaching temperatures around 90 degrees Fahrenheit during the afternoon when the sun is directly on it.
This is turn has resulted in waste disposal becoming extremely important; dirty dishes can remain in the sink for a day or two when the air is kept at a constant cool temperature, but somewhere around the mid-80's their half-life drops to around a couple of hours, after which the food scraps begin to very rapidly return to their original elements, a process in which fruit flies will somehow manage to infiltrate our building and participate.Even a blanket in my bedroom, after days of elevated temperatures, had begun to produce a unique odor which suggested that washing would be highly recommended.
It occurred to me after a few days that, had the AC been working, none of this would have taken place. Cooler, climate-controlled air greatly slows down the decomposition of kitchen scraps, and the rate at which a blanket gently reminds us that we are organic creatures after all. A similar realization occurred after returning to America from Taiwan. I was surprised to discover some fallen pears which, after several days, appeared to have been barely impacted and perhaps still edible, preserved by the cool, dry autumn air. In Taiwan, fallen fruit would have lasted a few hours at best, as the tropically-boosted decomposition process made short work of it.
While thinking about these things, I realized that the phenomenon had a wider application. It could be said of many Americans, that we live air-conditioned lives. Climate-controlled, insulated against the historical struggles of life, what some call the real world. Our struggle is not to put food on the table, or stay warm enough to survive the winter. We struggle to choose what restaurant we really want to eat at most, amid a staggering array of choices, or to avoid sweating so we can look fresh for job interviews.
Indeed, our cultural awareness of the trivial nature of many of these perceived difficulties has led to the "First World Problems" meme, demonstrating that younger generations of America are well aware of their own material privileges, even if that does not prevent them from complaining about similar issues. But is the best response to criticize these complaints as coming from excessive privilege or unforgivable ignorance? Surely everyone will complain about the things in their lives which are frustrating or disappointing, the disconnect occurs in that for certain groups of people, problems that cause them real frustration are brought on by material wealth which most of the world's inhabitants could only dream of.
But rather than trying to pretend that only problems which are more like problems which most humans face are worth complaining about, perhaps we should look at the root of the problems. The problem is not the complaints, the problem is the contrived lifestyle. Many people begin at this point to critique our culture of excess, or claim that such extravagance only comes at the expense of other parts of the world. But I submit that mere affluence does not lead to a situation where we have a near-culture-wide self-awareness of being out of touch with most of humanity, as evidenced through those things that bother us in life.
I do not wish to engage in a serious discussion of global resource distribution or the complicated cultural, historical, and political reasons why some areas of the world can be so developed as to have children worried about how much data their iPods hold, while one day's plane ride away some children are dying from lack of drinkable water. That important but highly divisive topic seems more to bring out differences in world view between those engaging it than it produces any viable solutions.
Instead I want to think of a more specific and less often discussed topic.
How could we as Americans bring ourselves back in touch a little? How could we, without top-down government policy changes, live in such a way that does not assume prosperity is evil but also gets rid of a culture which has become at odds with the experience of most humans, self-contained and unsustainable, trapped behind glass to protect the artificial chill of conditioned air which delays its inevitable decay into more fundamental elements?
Everything in our lives has become processed, packaged and shippable. Our food comes in chemically treated chunks, our water comes in little bottles, our air blows out of little temperature-controlled vents, our friends when not physically present represented by discrete profiles with filtered and prepared information.
Most people in the world are forced to take life as it comes, at least on a phenomenological level. It comes in analog. But in a parallel to the onset of the digital age, we have instead broken life into small, managed, dichotomous packets. We do not conform and are not shaped or hardened by our circumstances, we purchase them and change them to suit our tastes, growing soft behind protecting glass, preserved by climate-control. But what will happen when the glass shatters?
This is turn has resulted in waste disposal becoming extremely important; dirty dishes can remain in the sink for a day or two when the air is kept at a constant cool temperature, but somewhere around the mid-80's their half-life drops to around a couple of hours, after which the food scraps begin to very rapidly return to their original elements, a process in which fruit flies will somehow manage to infiltrate our building and participate.Even a blanket in my bedroom, after days of elevated temperatures, had begun to produce a unique odor which suggested that washing would be highly recommended.
It occurred to me after a few days that, had the AC been working, none of this would have taken place. Cooler, climate-controlled air greatly slows down the decomposition of kitchen scraps, and the rate at which a blanket gently reminds us that we are organic creatures after all. A similar realization occurred after returning to America from Taiwan. I was surprised to discover some fallen pears which, after several days, appeared to have been barely impacted and perhaps still edible, preserved by the cool, dry autumn air. In Taiwan, fallen fruit would have lasted a few hours at best, as the tropically-boosted decomposition process made short work of it.
While thinking about these things, I realized that the phenomenon had a wider application. It could be said of many Americans, that we live air-conditioned lives. Climate-controlled, insulated against the historical struggles of life, what some call the real world. Our struggle is not to put food on the table, or stay warm enough to survive the winter. We struggle to choose what restaurant we really want to eat at most, amid a staggering array of choices, or to avoid sweating so we can look fresh for job interviews.
Indeed, our cultural awareness of the trivial nature of many of these perceived difficulties has led to the "First World Problems" meme, demonstrating that younger generations of America are well aware of their own material privileges, even if that does not prevent them from complaining about similar issues. But is the best response to criticize these complaints as coming from excessive privilege or unforgivable ignorance? Surely everyone will complain about the things in their lives which are frustrating or disappointing, the disconnect occurs in that for certain groups of people, problems that cause them real frustration are brought on by material wealth which most of the world's inhabitants could only dream of.
But rather than trying to pretend that only problems which are more like problems which most humans face are worth complaining about, perhaps we should look at the root of the problems. The problem is not the complaints, the problem is the contrived lifestyle. Many people begin at this point to critique our culture of excess, or claim that such extravagance only comes at the expense of other parts of the world. But I submit that mere affluence does not lead to a situation where we have a near-culture-wide self-awareness of being out of touch with most of humanity, as evidenced through those things that bother us in life.
I do not wish to engage in a serious discussion of global resource distribution or the complicated cultural, historical, and political reasons why some areas of the world can be so developed as to have children worried about how much data their iPods hold, while one day's plane ride away some children are dying from lack of drinkable water. That important but highly divisive topic seems more to bring out differences in world view between those engaging it than it produces any viable solutions.
Instead I want to think of a more specific and less often discussed topic.
How could we as Americans bring ourselves back in touch a little? How could we, without top-down government policy changes, live in such a way that does not assume prosperity is evil but also gets rid of a culture which has become at odds with the experience of most humans, self-contained and unsustainable, trapped behind glass to protect the artificial chill of conditioned air which delays its inevitable decay into more fundamental elements?
Everything in our lives has become processed, packaged and shippable. Our food comes in chemically treated chunks, our water comes in little bottles, our air blows out of little temperature-controlled vents, our friends when not physically present represented by discrete profiles with filtered and prepared information.
Most people in the world are forced to take life as it comes, at least on a phenomenological level. It comes in analog. But in a parallel to the onset of the digital age, we have instead broken life into small, managed, dichotomous packets. We do not conform and are not shaped or hardened by our circumstances, we purchase them and change them to suit our tastes, growing soft behind protecting glass, preserved by climate-control. But what will happen when the glass shatters?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Occasionally the fit takes me...
And suddenly I am not in this old blue stuffed leather chair in Dallas, watching the late hours unwind in a outspread city that hauls itself wearily through the dog days of August. I am in an Israeli cafe in Taipei, eating hummus and pitas while a tired-eyed woman sits nearby with her small white dog and smokes a cigarette. The moisture-laden street air wanders inside to hear The Doors playing on tiny speakers affixed above photos of the Masada and the Dead Sea. Now it's Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire, and a scooter passes by. Life flows on here, slowly to the muffled hum of traffic and pedestrians and the sounds of preparing food. I am aware of its passing, as the afternoon sun beats down on a faded awning outside.
And now it is night. The sky an amber glow of light pollution, the blurry air ablaze with store signs and neon, the asphalt damp and shining. Countless people throng the bright and narrow streets, their conversations rising to the upper building floors looking down on them from either side. One cannot lose one's self in that crowd, for to plunge into it is to join it, become another unique piece of it. Smells assault from all sides, sharp and pungent, strong and savory. The senses are fully engaged. To be at rest is to walk, moving slowly along the streets which will not clear for many hours yet, for here the night is also alive.
And now it is night. The sky an amber glow of light pollution, the blurry air ablaze with store signs and neon, the asphalt damp and shining. Countless people throng the bright and narrow streets, their conversations rising to the upper building floors looking down on them from either side. One cannot lose one's self in that crowd, for to plunge into it is to join it, become another unique piece of it. Smells assault from all sides, sharp and pungent, strong and savory. The senses are fully engaged. To be at rest is to walk, moving slowly along the streets which will not clear for many hours yet, for here the night is also alive.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wheels of Fire
Was fascinated by the book of Ezekiel today. Why do I hear so little of the awe-inspiring Biblical imagery used in sermons today? Perhaps in lives carefully insulated from surprises or risk, something so transcendent is irrelevant to us, we want 'practical' messages which do not require mental distillation in order to apply directly to our lives.
Or perhaps in our modern 'enlightened' understanding of the world, we are embarrassed by the more 'outre' supernaturalism in the Bible. That explains why we can handle Jesus changing water to wine, but not stopping the sun in Joshua. Water to wine requires less suspension of disbelief, because it is "smaller", though both turn the known laws of physics on their head. Had the miracle recounted Jesus changing the Sea of Galilee from water to wine, doubtless many in the church would be working out how to explain it in terms of a algae bloom or other means. How strange that our reasoning should be so flawed. The very term supernatural means
something beyond nature. If the supernatural is possible, it is inherently not limited to small examples. If Jesus could change stones into bread, He could have changed the moon into bread by the same principle. And yes, maintained preservation of momentum too. He is God.
If we actually believe that the existence of the entire universe is continuously maintained by our Creator God, our worldview should reflect that. The western church today (in general) appears to accept this proposition as valid, but without it making much of a difference in their day to day lives. This is not the same as disbelief, but neither is it faith in a Biblical sense.
Perhaps the medieval church had something we need today. Without the 'benefit' of a post-enlightenment view of the world, they did not find it hard to believe in the miraculous, because they understood that we live in that kind of world.
And we still do live in that kind of world. Cynical Westerners (or Easterners) need but travel to numerous places around the world to receive severe challenges to their faith in the impossibility of the scientifically inexplicable.
Let us meditate on the reality of the universe in which we find ourselves; one in which the supernatural is indeed possible, for the universe itself is not eternal, but has been created by One from outside it, Who was before it. The world is then by definition a supernatural one, indeed the purely natural can only exist in contrast to the supernatural, otherwise the natural is merely 'what is'. But we know that the natural can not include all that is.
Therefore let us not act as if the unabashedly supernatural perspective of Scripture were an overexuberant and slightly embarrassing tendency which we can effectively gloss over as exceptional. The whole of Scripture is infused with this recognition of the nature of reality. Let us allow Scripture to adjust our worldviews accordingly, and not vice versa.
Or perhaps in our modern 'enlightened' understanding of the world, we are embarrassed by the more 'outre' supernaturalism in the Bible. That explains why we can handle Jesus changing water to wine, but not stopping the sun in Joshua. Water to wine requires less suspension of disbelief, because it is "smaller", though both turn the known laws of physics on their head. Had the miracle recounted Jesus changing the Sea of Galilee from water to wine, doubtless many in the church would be working out how to explain it in terms of a algae bloom or other means. How strange that our reasoning should be so flawed. The very term supernatural means
something beyond nature. If the supernatural is possible, it is inherently not limited to small examples. If Jesus could change stones into bread, He could have changed the moon into bread by the same principle. And yes, maintained preservation of momentum too. He is God.
If we actually believe that the existence of the entire universe is continuously maintained by our Creator God, our worldview should reflect that. The western church today (in general) appears to accept this proposition as valid, but without it making much of a difference in their day to day lives. This is not the same as disbelief, but neither is it faith in a Biblical sense.
Perhaps the medieval church had something we need today. Without the 'benefit' of a post-enlightenment view of the world, they did not find it hard to believe in the miraculous, because they understood that we live in that kind of world.
And we still do live in that kind of world. Cynical Westerners (or Easterners) need but travel to numerous places around the world to receive severe challenges to their faith in the impossibility of the scientifically inexplicable.
Let us meditate on the reality of the universe in which we find ourselves; one in which the supernatural is indeed possible, for the universe itself is not eternal, but has been created by One from outside it, Who was before it. The world is then by definition a supernatural one, indeed the purely natural can only exist in contrast to the supernatural, otherwise the natural is merely 'what is'. But we know that the natural can not include all that is.
Therefore let us not act as if the unabashedly supernatural perspective of Scripture were an overexuberant and slightly embarrassing tendency which we can effectively gloss over as exceptional. The whole of Scripture is infused with this recognition of the nature of reality. Let us allow Scripture to adjust our worldviews accordingly, and not vice versa.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Zeitgeist Poetry
This from Linkin Park (taken from The Catalyst):
Whatever one's opinion of their musical style or lyrical content, one cannot deny that to listen to Linkin Park's new album A Thousand Suns (FYI: contains profanity in some tracks) is to hear the cry of today. The progression of post-modernism and the fragmentation of American culture is reaching an inevitable zenith. The album sounds like a simultaneous shout of resistance and cry for help, with a undercurrent of doubtful hope. The sky is dark and getting darker, but the rising wind both brings the sound of thunder and blows away the stagnant air.
This coupled together with the recent release of William Gibson's Zero History, the third book in his post-9-11 series (another example of a perhaps more intentional attempt to capture the current zeitgeist: Gibson has stated that he no longer writes about conjectural future scenarios because the future has already arrived, and writing a story set in our present time conveys much the same sense that future-fiction did in the past: The present is changing so quickly that it writes like the future...). Those together and some other things have me thinking about where our culture is going.
We are all familiar with the rants about the decline and fall of the American superpower, which is beginning to look more and more like a foregone conclusion. (certainly a conclusion our government seems already to have both made and brought about, though one can argue about forces behind mere national governments from both a spiritual and a political/economic perspective)
I would argue that our national consciousness is moving to a point beyond that, however. Our relation to the rest of the world has never been our greatest concern anyway, but now we are beginning to wonder who we ourselves are. While stereotypically untravelled, enough Americans have gotten out into the world to notice that we are neither the most modern society, nor the most traditional one, but occupy an increasingly unsatisfying position in between, with a diminishing sense of identity and increasing disconnectedness.
It seems we are a nation of contradictions; having lost the benefits of our former cultural identity we are now defined by its negative elements: a culture of individuality without the rugged resourcefulness of our predecessors, a culture of capitalism which has all but lost its work ethic and concept of hard-earned profit and fallen prey to the lowest common demoninator of hedonism and dependency, a culture in which 70-80% of us profess to be Christians but prayers were banned from schools decades ago and now quietly taken off our money while books about vampires or mass deceptions perpetrated by the church fly off the shelves, and multitudes of churches will soon disappear with the last remnants of their aging congregations.
However, that contradiction is inexorably resolving itself, or perhaps I should say the internal contradiction is tearing an unsustainable culture into its coherent fragments. If you live in a beautiful patchwork quilt while training your children to believe that all patches are the same, that there is no quilt as such, and that the stitching can be ignored as irrelevant, you must not expect your home to endure.
In a way, I will be glad to see the contradiction resolve. I greatly dislike unstable situations artificially propped up past their point of survivability. When we define a given cultural institution, convention, or situation as good, we sometimes forget that it is always a function of time. Some institutions cease to be good, and should then cease altogether. Let what is false fail. If we as the body of Christ really wish to be light to the world, we should open our eyes and see how dark that world really is, and how desperately in need of a Savior. Looking at students today in America (and in many other parts of the world), one may see a strangely paradoxical combination of apathy and cynicism mixed with a curiosity and openness, unrestricted by both conventional morality and hypocrisy and having little tolerance for either, all moving at ease among (and by means of) the technological innovations that increasingly define our society. Yet behind it all there really is a desperate cry for love, relevance, and ultimate meaning which is beginning to break through. In a sense, this generation of youth/students is more open than any recent ones before it, if one is willing and able to abandon many previous forms and methods, while demonstrating love and speaking truth. But so few are able to do so.. we become attached to our own methods and ways of doing things, or those ways we inherited, confusing them with the truth and love they were in their own time developed to convey, or else finding in these familiar forms our own worth, and thus being unwilling to forsake them lest we find ourselves irrelevant in the tides of history as well.
But relevance is no longer something that can be maintained by effort, like a swimmer treading water in a moving stream. Change is no longer something that alters what is normal; change is the new normal.
We must learn to live and minister in such a world that is constantly shifting, learn to adopt external changes quickly and easily as they happen and when necessary, while sticking steadfastly and tirelessly to the Truth we have received. The gospel in its full revelation in Jesus Christ is 2 millenia old, and has not lost an ounce of relevance or credibility, while the Christian music of even 10 (5?) years ago is old enough now to have already passed far beyond the unacceptably dated phase into nostalgia. This should tell us something about our strong points...
Gospel: always relevant. External cultural forms: flying by in the wind.
And the wind is blowing ever stronger these days...
God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
For the sins of our hand
The sins of our tongue
The sins of our father
The sins of our young
And when I close my eyes tonight
To symphonies of blinding light...
Like memories in cold decay
Transmissions echoing away
Far from the world of you and I
Where oceans bleed into the sky
Whatever one's opinion of their musical style or lyrical content, one cannot deny that to listen to Linkin Park's new album A Thousand Suns (FYI: contains profanity in some tracks) is to hear the cry of today. The progression of post-modernism and the fragmentation of American culture is reaching an inevitable zenith. The album sounds like a simultaneous shout of resistance and cry for help, with a undercurrent of doubtful hope. The sky is dark and getting darker, but the rising wind both brings the sound of thunder and blows away the stagnant air.
This coupled together with the recent release of William Gibson's Zero History, the third book in his post-9-11 series (another example of a perhaps more intentional attempt to capture the current zeitgeist: Gibson has stated that he no longer writes about conjectural future scenarios because the future has already arrived, and writing a story set in our present time conveys much the same sense that future-fiction did in the past: The present is changing so quickly that it writes like the future...). Those together and some other things have me thinking about where our culture is going.
We are all familiar with the rants about the decline and fall of the American superpower, which is beginning to look more and more like a foregone conclusion. (certainly a conclusion our government seems already to have both made and brought about, though one can argue about forces behind mere national governments from both a spiritual and a political/economic perspective)
I would argue that our national consciousness is moving to a point beyond that, however. Our relation to the rest of the world has never been our greatest concern anyway, but now we are beginning to wonder who we ourselves are. While stereotypically untravelled, enough Americans have gotten out into the world to notice that we are neither the most modern society, nor the most traditional one, but occupy an increasingly unsatisfying position in between, with a diminishing sense of identity and increasing disconnectedness.
It seems we are a nation of contradictions; having lost the benefits of our former cultural identity we are now defined by its negative elements: a culture of individuality without the rugged resourcefulness of our predecessors, a culture of capitalism which has all but lost its work ethic and concept of hard-earned profit and fallen prey to the lowest common demoninator of hedonism and dependency, a culture in which 70-80% of us profess to be Christians but prayers were banned from schools decades ago and now quietly taken off our money while books about vampires or mass deceptions perpetrated by the church fly off the shelves, and multitudes of churches will soon disappear with the last remnants of their aging congregations.
However, that contradiction is inexorably resolving itself, or perhaps I should say the internal contradiction is tearing an unsustainable culture into its coherent fragments. If you live in a beautiful patchwork quilt while training your children to believe that all patches are the same, that there is no quilt as such, and that the stitching can be ignored as irrelevant, you must not expect your home to endure.
In a way, I will be glad to see the contradiction resolve. I greatly dislike unstable situations artificially propped up past their point of survivability. When we define a given cultural institution, convention, or situation as good, we sometimes forget that it is always a function of time. Some institutions cease to be good, and should then cease altogether. Let what is false fail. If we as the body of Christ really wish to be light to the world, we should open our eyes and see how dark that world really is, and how desperately in need of a Savior. Looking at students today in America (and in many other parts of the world), one may see a strangely paradoxical combination of apathy and cynicism mixed with a curiosity and openness, unrestricted by both conventional morality and hypocrisy and having little tolerance for either, all moving at ease among (and by means of) the technological innovations that increasingly define our society. Yet behind it all there really is a desperate cry for love, relevance, and ultimate meaning which is beginning to break through. In a sense, this generation of youth/students is more open than any recent ones before it, if one is willing and able to abandon many previous forms and methods, while demonstrating love and speaking truth. But so few are able to do so.. we become attached to our own methods and ways of doing things, or those ways we inherited, confusing them with the truth and love they were in their own time developed to convey, or else finding in these familiar forms our own worth, and thus being unwilling to forsake them lest we find ourselves irrelevant in the tides of history as well.
But relevance is no longer something that can be maintained by effort, like a swimmer treading water in a moving stream. Change is no longer something that alters what is normal; change is the new normal.
We must learn to live and minister in such a world that is constantly shifting, learn to adopt external changes quickly and easily as they happen and when necessary, while sticking steadfastly and tirelessly to the Truth we have received. The gospel in its full revelation in Jesus Christ is 2 millenia old, and has not lost an ounce of relevance or credibility, while the Christian music of even 10 (5?) years ago is old enough now to have already passed far beyond the unacceptably dated phase into nostalgia. This should tell us something about our strong points...
Gospel: always relevant. External cultural forms: flying by in the wind.
And the wind is blowing ever stronger these days...
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