Mike Swann, one of the pastors of NLCF here in Blacksburg, talked this morning about inspiration, both from people and Christ. Brandon, one of the people I live with, inspires me to read more. He has blazed through some books recently, which he mentions in his own blog, in quite an impressive way. Here's some thoughts I have on books I have recently finished:
Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' is an interesting read and worth being considered classic, if for no reason of it's inherent quality just the quantity of impact that it has had on the genre of vampires and stuff. I really didn't like the kind of "love" it exemplifies among the characters, though. I think it was part of the 19th century general opinion of love that influenced Stoker. The love that the characters have for each other, especially that which the men have for their lovers, is very flacid, selfish, and un-Christ-like. Even God is, in the characters' minds, only a means to an extent of a life like we have on earth or to be with a beloved longer. That does not honor Him, which I don't think Stoker understood. There is so much better to be had, both of a passionate love that mirrors God's and of just the real God himself, than 'Dracula' would have you believe.
After wrapping up the wampyr saga, I picked up C.S. Lewis' interplanatery trilogy, which begins with 'Out of the Silent Planet', which was given to me over Christmas. I was very impressed. You can kind of feel in the prose the characteristics of the planet which is it's center. The first feels like being on top of a mountain; the chilling wildness of Malacandra (the fourth planet from the sun). The second book, named for the planet on which it takes place, is more the valley; still wild, but so full of life. This is Perelandra (the second from the sun), on which the fall is prevented and remains in its glory of paradise. The third book is called 'That Hideous Strength', a line from an old poem about the tower of Babel, takes place on earth. The prose of this book feels like confusion, futility, and dirtyness; kind of like the place we are used to.
'Future Grace', by John Piper, is on its way to my apartment and is the next book I intend to enjoy.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
There ought to be a title here:
What is this business of thinking of things in terms of how they ought to be, and what is the good in it? (I am not talking at all about the title of this post, that was only something I thought to be slightly clever.) I mean when someone doesn't know how to do something or doesn't understand something while I do, why do I feel like they ought to? Or when someone mistreats me, where do I honestly have grounds to say that they ought to know better, or even if they know how they ought to treat me ought to be able to live up to that standard?
We are all dealing with what sin has done to us. We are not the creation we ought to be. So if no one is able to live up to the standard of goodness, we should make allowances for each others failures. (My issue is that most of the time I think that I am the exception to this rule, that I am the only one who can act rightly and therefore am allowed to judge everyone else. It is wonderful when my mind is clear enough to see that I am not.) There really is no good reason why anything or anyone ought to better than it is after our Fall. To expect or demand otherwise leads to disappointment and bitterness.
Does this mean that I am suggesting we lay down and accept that things will always be this way? Certainly not! To do nothing about the way things don't measure up creates a downward spiral to more and more depravity. But at each point along the way, as we hopefully transition toward humility and true love of God and everyone else, things can be alright just as they are. Things are going to be what they are anyway, regardless of our attitude about them. If we don't demand that things be different than they are we can have more peace in life and more trust that God is actually taking care of us. We are hoping in the Future anyway, things don't have to be perfect here. Bitter things like suffering are like drinking grapefruit juice. It's good for you, which you know and therefore drink it even though you don't really like it. But eventually you might develop a taste for it.
We are all dealing with what sin has done to us. We are not the creation we ought to be. So if no one is able to live up to the standard of goodness, we should make allowances for each others failures. (My issue is that most of the time I think that I am the exception to this rule, that I am the only one who can act rightly and therefore am allowed to judge everyone else. It is wonderful when my mind is clear enough to see that I am not.) There really is no good reason why anything or anyone ought to better than it is after our Fall. To expect or demand otherwise leads to disappointment and bitterness.
Does this mean that I am suggesting we lay down and accept that things will always be this way? Certainly not! To do nothing about the way things don't measure up creates a downward spiral to more and more depravity. But at each point along the way, as we hopefully transition toward humility and true love of God and everyone else, things can be alright just as they are. Things are going to be what they are anyway, regardless of our attitude about them. If we don't demand that things be different than they are we can have more peace in life and more trust that God is actually taking care of us. We are hoping in the Future anyway, things don't have to be perfect here. Bitter things like suffering are like drinking grapefruit juice. It's good for you, which you know and therefore drink it even though you don't really like it. But eventually you might develop a taste for it.
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