The Boy Scholastic Cries At Inappropriate Times

Well, it’s not so much that the times he cries are inappropriate as it is that he never cries when he feels it’s appropriate and only cries when he can’t understand why. When his grandfather passed away, he shed nary a tear, though he loved him dearly, and yet he went to the funeral of a stranger and could barely sing for all the tears. When his dog died, he accepted it with reverent silence, but he saw a dog tied up to a post outside a store and began to tear up. “Perhaps,” he thought to himself, “I do not mourn what I loved but what I did not love.” But why now does he not cry nor sleep?

I related to a friend the other day that one of my greatest pleasures about starting to make my way in academia is revealing to people that I believe in God. “And an institutional church!” I often add with relish. This is really only a surprise to those who don’t know that I do divinity, but there are enough people I come in contact with that this gets to happen on a pretty frequent basis. Perhaps it’s due to the particular make up of the institution that I’m with at present, as it is known for anti-religious sentiment (Dawkins, Hitchens, and the like come often), but there seems to be a great surprise that there would be someone studying there who believes not only in God, but in a particular religious expression, and an institutional one at that. I try to play the apologist as little as possible, though I am swift to explain the essential intricacies in doctrine, no matter what the subject.

One of my favorite aspects to discuss, the revelation of which turns just as many heads as my admission of religious affiliation, is that I am a pre-destinationalist. No Calvinist, mind you, but decidedly anti-free-will. I explain that I am persuaded to the position for a variety of reasons –the deterministic nature of the physical world, the paradox of free-will and divine foreknowledge, and the emphasis on grace in salvation, just to name a few. However, I do acknowledge that, from those perspectives, the difference in opinion has no bearing whatsoever on any perceivable reality, as the perception of choice (whether illusionary or not) is so real as to be real. The only reason that a person would have a worthwhile opinion on the matter is because it affects their lives in a very real way. It is on those grounds that I say I am a pre-destinationalist, because the notion of free-will is, I feel, inherently vain.

To understand why, it’s important to examine sin and the way we, as humans, process it in terms of faith and salvation. From a free-will perspective, when a person looks back on a sinful thing that he has done, he says to himself, “Oh, I did a bad thing, but now I’ve learned and I’m a better person for it, for I shan’t do that again” (do you like how all my interlogicas speak in the most proper of Englishes?). To hold this position is to be more Buddhist than Christian, for what you are saying is that you have become a better person, and have separated yourself from your sin through a free-will progression: you are able to separate yourself from the person who did that sinful thing. It is what has popularized amongst many Christian groups the idea of being “born again” as having shed your past life and being an entirely new person. Now, I’m not denying that there is a reality to that, because the existential re-arrangement that is connected to salvation is most-powerful and cannot be ignored, but for many groups, it takes up this notion of possessing no connection to that person. Now, at this transition, there is a scriptural basis for such an opinion, and I’m inclined to accept it, but what I see as the problem is that the mindset is carried with the individual perpetually – any sin can be separated in such a way by becoming a better person.

Is it clear where I’m going? It’s not the separation from sin that I object, but the idea that it comes from the free-will choice to become a better person. For the pre-destinationalist, the individual must always look at past sins and recognize that they are still today the same person who made that decision, because that individual is just as much what made them who they are today as their reality today will form them tomorrow. Each individual is what he was and will be, all at once, and the pre-destinationalist must always reconcile himself his being with the fact that he cannot, by his own will and desire, be separated from that sin. He is forced to turn to the cross and look to God for his redemption. He is simul iustus et peccator, for though perpetually a sinner, he is justified by Christ in spite of his sin. You are always the person who sinned, which means you are always a person who needs Christ. It is ultimately humbling in ways that free-will could never be.

The beauty of this is that, for the pre-destinationalist, we see how the good fruit / bad fruit scenario works as I have previously described it. The sinfulness of the good fruit drives him to find Christ, whereas the sinfulness of the bad fruit drives him away from Christ. But I’m not rehashing that.

BTW, expect an update on current news concerning sexuality and the priesthood, with special attention to the ELCA’s statements: “Sexuality: Gift and Trust” and the subsequent recommendation for ministry policies.

The Boy Scholastic Refuses To Sleep

It's like admitting that this is all that today was, that it's over and that there's nothing more left to make it something. It's the death of the sky, the end of being. It is a realization of his struggle with the anxiety of death; for him, staying up all night is to say, "I decide when this day ends, and that's not tomorrow." Staying awake means that you never really lose anything. Going to sleep means putting faith in the belief that, when your eyes open, everything you love will still be there. Some days it isn't. And some days it isn't. As of late, he can't stand to lose anything more.

I was going to write something nice, something about the fallen beauty of pre-destination. But sometimes, writing these little intros gets to me.

I'm going to have a smoke.

The Boy Scholastic Wants to be Awake When It Happens

His death, that is. He wants to be awake, to be there. He figures that the anxiety about death is a fundamental part of the human experience, and that it would be far better to experience the possible horror and to know for certain than to slip away into something or nothing...

At chapel this week, a sermon was delivered on Luke 6:43-45 -- until I have time to do my own translation, here is the NIV (you can't get NRSV on-line, sigh):

43"No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. 44Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. 45The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.

The sermon which was given was, in my opinion, meaningless as a sermon. This is not to say that the sermon didn't have a point, but that the preacher decided instead to use the scripture as a segue into discussing a social justice issue rather than using a social justice issue to segue into discussing the scripture. The pulpit is not where we proclaim our social justice-- we do that with our hands. The pulpit is for elevating the truth of God with our words, hopefully inspired by the Spirit.

It was good, however, that the sermon was a failure in my mind, because it gave my mind the excuse to ignore what was being said by the preacher and focus instead on what was being said by the Spirit. And the Spirit is certainly needed with this piece of scripture, because it is not easy to understand. The passages leave us in a difficult place, for we recognize as Christ ians that we all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. We therefore could not be the good tree, could we? Yet this morning we had come together to worship Christ, and to call that an act of evil would be to blaspheme the Holy Spirit, and so we cannot in any way call this act bad. This is simply a conundrum, for Jesus did not give us a third tree -- the tree which is simul iustus et peccator does not exist in this narrative.

Are we then to say that Christ is wrong? an equally unacceptable option, for it would be an act of vanity and blasphemy to say that we could judge Christ with fallen reason. As with all interactions with the Spirit, we must reconcile ourselves with the Word. How, then, do we understand ourselves in regards to this interaction with the Spirit?

The Psalmist tells us that the Lord delights in a broken and contrite heart. Indeed, if God loved us for our blamelessness, we would not be loved, nor would God delight. Rather, God loves us despite our sin, and delights in our genuine repentance, for it is in that act that our love of God (given through grace), repulsed by our sin, turns us towards God. And how then can we call that result bad, for we have returned to God? Certainly each day we play the Prodigal Son, forsaking God only to realize that we are naught without Him. We are Christians not because we do not sin or even because we do not sin more or less than others, but because our sin turns us to the Cross. This is not to say that sin is good, but that even though our sin exists, Christ's light shines through and illuminates our lives despite our sin. we are the good tree and we bear the good fruit: that is what it is to worship Christ. But what we cannot, cannot forget is that the fruit is good not because of he who bears it, but because of He who causes it to grow. All goodness belongs to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

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.