The Boy Scholastic Watched A Tree Bloom

Thursday it was bare, but Friday was warm and sunny, and today it poured. He woke up this morning early to a smell of rain and saw buds outside his window. The Boy Scholastic wasted the day away with his texts and pipe, and as the smoke and histories unfurled around him, so did the buds bloom and grow. Now he lies in bed, a smile on his face, wondering if tomorrow will hold more. He's already prepared for it, though. One way or another, he and a friend (!!!) are making a pie.

The next two months promise to be exciting -- I've got several ideas for papers that I am eager to explore, no matter whether or not they materialize (although something has to, eventually). Right now, I'm occupied with exploratory research for a paper about the competing views of history at play in Early Medieval Spanish histories (specifically those of Augustine and Eusebius). I'm focusing mostly on Isadore's History of the Goths, though I'm sure other works will materialize in time. I'm proposing it as a way the Spanish at the time of Muslim conquest comprehended their social situation in terms of religion. I'm hoping that it materializes into a BA in the near future, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

After that there is a paper for my class on The Gospel According to Mark. While working on the pericope of the Syrophoenician woman, I noticed how the exchange between said woman and Jesus appeared to be similar to the dialogs from Sayings of Spartan Women in that it had a woman with significantly less authority successfully challenging a man of greater authority with witty report. As we've floated the idea of Mark as the "Pauline" Gospel, I thought it interesting propose an exploration of how well this pericope conformed/deviated from that narrative style. My professor agreed (or gave me the impression of agreeing.) I'm in the process of working up a formal proposal.

There's an idea or two which is still floating around, but they need more time to stew. I think this is enough to legitimize posting, though. Time will tell.

The Boy Scholastic Misses the Stars

Whose idea was it to put universities inside cities? The Boy Scholastic wishes they were like old monasteries -- out in the middle of the wilderness. But this is just because he wishes to hear the voice of one crying out, ειπεν ησαιας ο προφητης.

²⁴Jesus rose up and went out into the land around Tyre. And he went into a house not wanting to be discovered, but he was unable to be hidden; ²⁵but immediately a woman heard of him, whose daughter had an unclean spirit [πνευμα ακαθαρτον], she came and fell down at his feet; ²⁶this woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth; and she prayed [ηρωτα] that he would cast out the demon [δαιμονιον] in her daughter. ²⁷And he said to her: Let [αφες] first [πρωτον] the children be fed, for it would not be just to snatch the children's bread to throw to the dogs. ²⁸But she replied and said to him: Lord, but the dogs eat the children's crumbs from under the table. ²⁹and he said to her: on account of what was said, get up! the demon [δαιμονιον] has gone out of your daughter. ³⁰And going out of his house she found her child thrown out of bed but the demon had left her.

Things of interest: the switch from 'πνευμα ακαθαρτον' to 'διαμονιον' (represented by switching from "unclean spirit" to "demon"), the use of αφιημι to signify an imperative/command (it usually translates as "let go" or "release", but I can see "permit"), and, of course, the dialog itself (which is a delightful mystery to me).

The Boy Scholastic Got Lost in a Book

He was all to happy to be there; however, all good things... and look how hackneyed he's become! But some good may have come of it all along.

I don't like writing unless I have something to say. It's a self-indulgence that is all-too-common of people who want to make a living publishing their thoughts.---They begin to think that people care!---And I've been so tired... But I've ceased to be tired, thanks in no small part to Tati Cycles carrying Metropolis coffee now, and I've decided to get kicking once again. And expect some new read enough that I believe there could be things in my head which are worth writing. My Greek improved, my Latin atrophied, and Wittgenstein placed Bultmann in a new light which has me at once excited and afraid. The latter alread shook my world apart in ways which have made me unrecognizable to my former self.---Will this be the same?

I haven't formed these thoughts yet, so no more on them. This serves as an instrument of fear and shame so as to compell me to take the time later. Right now, I have two particularly interesting Syrophoenician women calling me. Think about it for a moment.

The Boy Scholastic Purchased A Pipe

And smoked it too! The smell reminded him of home and the autumn. He has had a good rest and is now ready to get to work.

On sound advice, I have decided to write down a few thoughts concerning a subject which has, of late, weighed heavy on my heart. The notion of salvation has always been very real to me, both in its necessity and in its divine origin, but its nature has been a subject the mystery of which I have only recently turned my attention towards. I found myself rereading several passages in the Gospels; focusing on only a few now will maintain brevity and provide clarity. We see the man in sin often being described as a "slave to sin" and that the salvation of Christ sets us free (John 8:31-36). This notion of slavery and freedom are powerful indeed; so is the notion of sin as a death and salvation as life. In the same chapter of John, we see Christ make one of his most powerful statements, yet one of his most enigmatic: "Very truly, I tell you, whoever keeps my word will never see death." (John 8:51)

This creates serious implications for the notion of salvation, for we all see an ending of our days on this earth, our own deaths. There comes an understanding from this imagery a different understanding of the notion of salvation in Christ -- it is not about our lives at all, but the nature of our lives on earth. Though some deny Christ, all live earthly lives; though some accept Christ, all die earthly deaths. We cannot either attribute these verses to a Heaven and Hell, for those in Hell still live and by no means die. What Christ must therefore speak to is the nature of our lives, that without him there is slavery and death, but within him there is freedom and life. But what are we freed from? and what is this life?

These questions form a wall which a direct assault could not hope to overcome. But there are other verses pertaining to salvation to which we must now turn in hopes of reaching an understanding of the nature of the salvation in Christ. We know it stands in opposition to God's judgment, but how so?

6But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." 8Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

9At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

11"No one, sir," she said.
"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."

(John 8: 6-11)

We see here a powerful understanding of the salvation of Christ -- that though it comes from his sacrifice on the cross, it is not linked to our forgiveness. We see clearly that the notion of life in forgiveness comes from our belief and that this is what spares us from the death of sin. Christ does not condemn though we deserve. This woman in no way accepted him, in no way made a profession of any believe of faith. Without any notion of belief, he spare her his judgment and the wrath of God. This is not an anomaly but rather the nature of the mercy of God as seen through the Christ. John further echos this message, that we might understand:

"For God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." (John 3:16-17)

Again we see that salvation comes in terms of life and death, of the sin and faith that rest in this world. But when it comes to condemnation, for that Christ died for the world, bar none. "And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world." (John 4:14) Not of those who believe, not of those who have found and accepted him. He is the Savior of all, of the world. "Upon him is laid the inequity of us all." (Isaiah 53:6)

Salvation, then, is of earthly things and speaks to our earthly life, and in that we see a truth to the notion of life and death that originally eluded us. For who among us, knowing Christ, could leave him? He is our life, the living water who takes away our thirst. Without him we were dead, to the world, to ourselves, to life in its fullest. The salvation of Christ is the life fulfilled in the Will of God.

This invites a discussion of heaven and hell, for how could they remain unchanged when we have a full understanding of our salvation? The necessity for change, however, existed well before hand. I interject a strain of opinion, but it is necessary to contemplate before searching the scriptures. If we view hell as a lake of fire prepared for our endless torment, hell is not so great and terrible. No man believes disingenuously, for how could he chose to believe something which he did not think to be true? We may deny them and turn from them, but we always know what we believe and be persuaded of its truth. So to be sent to hell for the lack of a particular belief is a cheapening of the justice of God as it does not fully break a man. For he suffers in iniquity, resenting and hating God. It also asks for man to be separated from God, but how could this be the case when God is God? No this cannot be hell. But then what could be?

We know that hell is the antithesis of heaven, so in finding that perhaps we find a reprieve from our agnosticism. Given our understanding of salvation, heaven is the product of the life fulfilled in Christ, so that we may look at God one day and that He might say to us, "Well done my good and faithful servant!" (Matthew 25:21) It is the acknowledgment on the part of our creator, who yearned for our very being and designed us that we might be with Him for eternity, knowing that we have reflected his love and found Him through faith and not through sight. It is the reward of the life fulfilled as the entry to our eternal communion with the Lord, where we know no pride in that accomplishment, but simply fulfillment.

Hell, then is the opposite, and in that we see the true dichotomy of the justice and mercy of God. Hell is standing before God as he looks and says, "Depart from me, for I never knew you." We see ourselves for the first time fully, know our transgressions, our lack of faith, our unwillingness to believe. We see our lives as a failure, dead and empty -- the most precious gift given to us left unacknowledged and unopened. The stench of wasted time and regret bores through our very being and rends out heart asunder. A man is made nothing. We see the justice in God, and as a in a perfect symphony, are overwhelmed by the sudden onset of the next movement -- the movement of God's undying grace. The man knows his utter failure and unworthiness, and yet God cradles Him and brings him into his fold. He cleans him and bathes him and that completes the perfect hell of suffering and despair -- the fullest, most complete realization of receiving that which we never deserved and lived a life devoted to nothing but its scorn. God breaks the spirit and the man is dead but brought anew and fully formed into the communion set aside for him from the beginning of days, from time immemorial. The first man finds the life eternal in the unified salvation and forgiveness of Christ, the second finds his death, but all are brought to God by his grace and mercy, that prophecy might be fulfilled when it was said "that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:10-11).

In this we find an understandable salvation and a real hell which inspires the fear which drives the many to the Lord. For it is the greatest fear of man that life might be wasted, that our existence might go unfulfilled, that our purpose would be left by the wayside. We find ourselves before the Cross, basking fully in its power and majesty.

The Boy Scholastic kissed a girl!

Well, sort of. While walking to the park, he got carried away trying to decide if he should go back and put sugar in his coffee when he walked into a girl. They both fell down but were more or less OK, although he hit the ground so fast that all of a sudden all he saw was sunlight, and he thought that he had been blinded by divine light. "But I'm not ready," he said after he'd reached his favourite bench (having apologized hastily to the girl in question and running the rest of the way). "But then again, when was anyone ever ready for what really matters?"

Things seem to be moving so quickly for me, even though my life itself is in that temporary stasis before the start of every quarter. It's my own fault, though, for putting off a very burning question for far too long. The longer I hang around, the more I realize that it's going to be impossible for me to dismiss Rudolf Bultmann's theology without addressing it head on, but what frightens me is that, the more I acknowledge that I disagree with it, the more it compels me.

The one topic that is really getting to me right now is the subject of the Resurrection. As a lot of you know, I've been spared most of the crisis that people face on the subject of miracles by a strong acceptance of the fact that God does what he wants, but it is the other side of Bultmann's argument that is getting to me. I realized while I was back home spending time with the more fundamental of my theological friends that they place primary importance on the Resurrection and not the Crucifixion. Now, I've spent a large amount of time in the Gospel as of late, and the one thing that I've taken away in this reading is something that Bultmann stressed -- that the Crucifixion is the important element. Christ died for our sins, he was born to die, he was the sacrificial lamb. It's not that he was resurrected for our sins (that doesn't even make sense when I think about it). The notion of the Resurrection is, by and large, another sign of Christ's authenticity, much like his lineage or the Virgin Birth.

And to be quite frank, I would follow Christ with no less vigour if there was no prophecy surrounding his being. It isn't an old prediction fulfilled that compels me to take up the Cross, it's the truth of the Word, it's the power of the personage of Christ, of his life, of his action as the perfect incarnation of his teachings. Don't get me wrong, though, by believing that I don't believe in any fulfilled prophecy -- but I see it more as a sign for those who need it. Paul needed no such sign, though, and neither do I. The life of Christ is more than enough for me, and there's nothing to boats about that, either. It's simply a matter of in which manner a person best hears the call, and I hear it in his life, not in the fulfilment of a prophecy.

But I digress -- what really begins to worry me is the notion of the Resurrection as a physical, historical event when juxtaposed against the importance of the death. Namely, when the body dies, it begins to decompose. It's death. The notion of re-animation is a bit absurd, because you either die or you don't -- to come back from death is to not have died. Furthermore, and most troubling to me, is that the idea that Christ walked to the Cross knowing that he would be physically resurrected is like walking into a fight knowing the other guy's going to throw it. Christ's death has to be the perfect sacrifice to atone for the sins of the many, and a death like that doesn't fit the bill. He needs to have actually died, to have quit this mortal coil, and the more I think about it, the more that calls for a spiritual, non-historical, resurrection. It doesn't rely on an empty tomb, but it's far more meaningful when I think about it, than any returning body. Paul would seem to support this, in a way, as he considers himself an Apostle because he saw the Resurrected Christ, though he experienced the personage of Christ rather than seeing some re-animated corpse. As misguided as the internet meme "Zombie Jesus", it sort of sums up what I'm talking about. If I'd seen the Christ in a bodily Resurrection, I'd have thought he never died. But a spiritual resurrection, one of a heavenly nature, would be the clinching proof that he was The Christ.

It's just that, the more Bultmann sinks into me, the more I worry about adopting his entire theology, which creates in me a great anxiety (as Bultmann thinks it should). But Christ is the King of Peace, and His doctrine shouldn't breed in men an anxiety about their lives, but inspiration and hope. And without a notion of the eternal soul, where then is God's justice? His wisdom? His mercy? I can't find it anywhere, least of all where Bultmann says it should be, and so I sit here, in an odd position. But at the same time, I am filled with wonder, that in the midst of all this confusion, my only wish is that it was Sunday, that be singing songs of praise. For now, I will be still, and know that He is God.

The Boy Scholastic can't decide on his favorite color.

He realizes that it's not the most important decision that he's had to make, but it's been a slow day, "So what's the harm?" he thinks. "And your favourite colour says so much," he rationalizes. If I go with green, people might think that I enjoy broccoli or that I'm Irish." (he is, but why give it away?) "But if I go with orange, people might think that I want to start a fire." But he had started a fire, a long time ago, and there no longer needs to be a reason to hide it.

I'm not The Girl Scholastic, so perhaps I have no way of understanding, but the notion of female empowerment is an odd one to me, at least as a lot of people (apparently) view it. I'll cut to the quick, and post what I'm thinking about:

LOS ANGELES (Sept. 11) - A 22-year-old woman in the United States is publicly auctioning her virginity to pay for her college education, sparking a heated on-line debate about sex and morality. The student from San Diego, California, who is using the pseudonym Natalie Dylan for "safety reasons," said she had no moral dilemma with her decision and found it "empowering."

There apparently is this notion that it is empowering to women to aspire to the sexual standards our culture has layed upon men, that is, for women to no longer aspire to marry, and as virgins. As I understand it, it is the notion of leveling the playing field by removing the double-standard of praising the man who has a large number of sexual partners while diminishing the woman who does the same.

It should be obvious that I agree the double-standard is unfair as it is obvious that I feel that women are running the wrong way, or rather, the easy way. All of this stems from a thousand things, most religious, many practical, and not a few personal, and it's not worth a discussion, because (to be quite frank) you either buy it or you don't. What interests me is that this girl thinks this is empowering, because by my book, she is rejecting the feminist empowerment system in favour of the culturally traditional gender relations, and within that system, making herself a prostitute in the worst sense of the word.

By actioning her virginity, she's acknowledging (perhaps passively) that virginity is something of value and is worth something, which feminist empowerment rejects, as virginity amongst men is looked down upon as undesirable. So she's either acknowledging the importance of virginity for herself or exploiting people who view it as important. The former makes her anything but a feminist and the second one makes her the equivalent of a person who exploits the ignorant because she isn't and serves to gain by it. Like the faith healer who puts on a show for money, or a dirty insurance salesman who wants to capitalize on people's fears and hopes.

Empowering? I can at least understand the feminist position as much as I disagree with it, but her position doesn't even compute. But as someone who finds true empowerment in the life of a servant and a shepherd, some things may be beyond me. But a pole of my female room mates says that I may not be insane.

The Boy Scholastic spent the last five minutes trying to imagine infinity.

He nearly gave up, but then a pretty girl walked by humming a lovely song, and suddenly realized that imagining was the wrong way to go about it.

It's funny how much we can think about something just to know so little about it. I used to think myself impervious (or at least, well-guarded) against such uncomfortable revelations, as I take great pains not fall among the ranks of those Senators who advocate the posting of the 10 commandments but can't list them. But for the life of me, I can't write down what I believe to be a "good" definition of theology. I can provide the Greek roots, I can tell you what it is supposed to be, but I can't express it. And that bothers me.

I've so far refused to look at anyone else's definition, because it's important to know what I believe it to be. At the very least, it would grant me a measure of insight into who I am and what God means to me. The best thing to do, I think, would be to talk about what it isn't but even that is difficult to do. Theology isn't apologetics, but it should be apologetic: good theology should provide clarity about the relationship between man (men) and God. But the point of theology isn't to offer an apology, but something more. It's not about rhetoric, though it is rhetorical, and it isn't about convincing, though it does seek to be right as opposed to wrong. Theology isn't intellectual, but it should be rational and logical: it should apply to everyman, regardless of who his father was or how many sheepskins hang on his wall. Theology isn't history, but is should be historical; it isn't invented, but it should be constructed; it isn't of man, but it should be anthropological. Try to focus too much on the one, and you get criticized by the others.

I think of the great theologians that I admire, but why are they theologians? They created theologies, certainly, but what? Barth has his theology of crisis, Bultmann his theology of κήρυγμα, Gutiérrez his theology of liberation, but they all speak to different things, and while at times they do, it is not inherent that they overlap. An Augustinian view of sin neither affirms nor denies a Lutheran view of determinism. But these are theologies versus theology. I don't wish to confuse an object and its form.

I know what you're saying -- it's simple to see that the entomology is right -- but much of theology is what we don't know about God, or how we can't study God, or how even speaking about God with the belief that we assert knowledge of God is sinful. But even in that we're saying that we know something about God. But it's like saying that, if we preach tolerance, we should be tolerant of intolerance. It's both true and false at the same time, or rather, there is an element of falsity and an element of truth to the statement due to its simplicity.

In the end, answering this question is the same for me as speaking about God is for Bultmann -- when I say what theology is, what I am actually saying is what theology is to me. And that's the ticket. There is some fantastic link between theology and God other than what would appear at first glance. Theology is the study of the relationship between man and God, which gives insight both into the actions of God and into the being of man.

Now that I've said it, it seems very obvious.