A momentary beauty and a fundamental truth encourages me in this day that feels so real and present yet I know by tomorrow it will be yet another wafer thin page quickly fading in my memory to mist. But does that fact that the existing moment in the present is quickly shoved aside to become ever less important in the grand scheme of the timeline that rushes stubbornly in one direction mean that moment is in actuality less important or is it only a trick of perception? I would argue so though it is difficult to state my case when I can say for almost certainty that if this earth still spins a few hundred years hence there will be no one left alive who remembers my name (and certainly not my face). I’ve had the thought myself when looking at old photo albums – who is that? No clue. Turn the page. Page turned and accomplished and we move forward in swaggering sureness of importance of self. Hard to think otherwise when one exists as one does and can only reference to self because well one thinks as oneself does one not? Oh pardon me for this angst induced overly indulgent existential rage. I am proud and selfish as most of us tend to be, us mere humans scraping through the rubble of our shattered dreams attempting to salvage an idea of the grand reality that was promised. Does your heart thrill to that thought too? Is there a true myth that causes your heart to skip a beat and the hair to rise upon your neck as you put your hand to your lips as unconsciously you yearn for a taste of the miraculous? Or is it only again the scrabbling through the ashes of the forest attempting to construct a mansion out of trees that never could bear the weight of expectations as you turn your face aside to cry? I ask for your forgiveness, friend. My thoughts dance ahead of my reason and I fear the turmoil of my heart is now bare for all to see. What is this lot of mine, this suffering? Do you hurt too? I ache for that weight of glory. I beg for the veil to be removed. I crave to live in a real house someday. I can’t bear this tent much longer, surely not. But there is a sense of something beautiful in the corner of my eye and I rest my hand upon the truth that truly never lies. Someday resurrection will be seen face to face. For now though I see not, I believe. I can’t help but otherwise when the fire burns within me so.
Tag: philosophy
Sometimes Yes
Sometimes I wonder why it is that fiction should so easily slip in the cracks whereas a well-written and solidly supported work of nonfiction can not find even the smallest purchase in my mind. I know everyone’s mind is different – at least I’m assured of such – which comforts me because I know then that the plethora of nonfiction educative works out in the world are of use to many many souls. Even for me, I can say with confidence I have been helped and encouraged and perhaps even edified by some of the nonfiction works floating out and about in the world. Yet there is something about a good story that will do things to me that no other form of writing can do, no matter how skillfully penned. This is not an original topic of course. I’m aware that much has been written about the human craving for pattern and is not story just another word for pattern? We seek to make sense of the chaos about us and if we can just make it all fit in a story that has a beginning and a middle and possibly even an end, would not that make life meaningful in a way that our souls long for? We cry for meaning and desperately grab on to whatever may give us such, if only that we can avoid slipping back into the existential void that we are all too afraid is the source from which we sprang. So is this desire for story simply a reaction of a mind half blind with fear and anxiety? Or do we desire to hear a great tale because that mirrors something in us that may perhaps have been put there a purpose, a reflection of the reality which is greater than we can now fully grasp? Hence to dart back to my original point (which perhaps has fled from me at this juncture), a true story simply told is something that will disarm all my defenses and leave me quivering on the floorboards, aware that I am both less than and greater than all at the same time. And if the story is true, well…at what point does this truth leave the pages in which I find it and enter my soul to provide an answer for that which my soul longs? I love to ask questions for too often I feel I do not know the answers. Yet, are there answers? Is there an answer? I dare not think otherwise. It stares me in the face and I tremble.
Interlude
Hello, my friends! A quick few thoughts on latest read…
64. Why God Makes Sense in a World that Doesn’t by Gavin Ortlund. Many thoughts from this book that are still rolling around in my brain. This book is not written to “prove God” or construct a fool-proof argument for Christianity and I think it was important that the author stated that at the outset. Rather, the author uses an abductive approach to show the reasonableness of holding to theism, ending up by holding forth the attractiveness and sheer loveliness of the Christian faith as centered in the person of Christ. This is a book that spirals from the grand and cosmic to the intensely personal. The mind, heart and conscience are engaged from various perspectives before the author moves into a concise and winsome defense for historic Christianity. And no, the author is not presenting an airtight case that will convince the antagonistic skeptic. Rather, the author seeks to show that holding to theism (and more specifically Christianity) is not inherently unreasonable. Instead, there is a beauty, grandeur and pathos to believing in a God who is also a person, in a person who also walked this earth and died to reconcile us to Himself. There are parts of this book that hurt my brain and I daresay I probably need to read it again at some point to more fully understand all of Ortlund’s points. There are many books that the author referenced and quoted that I now very much want to read (this is a good thing!). And the plethora of movie and book references may be a bad thing for some, but I kind of loved them, as they very much spoke to the current moment in which we now live. This is a book that is a product of its time, speaking to the current ethos in which we live. But more than that, this book is an appeal to the humanity in all of us, asking if this humanity as such is simply a cold by-product of undirected physical processes or if in fact that which resonates within us points to a common story that has an Author. Yes, any book that talks about the origins of the universe, math, music, poetry, conscience and moral objectivity will have my attention. But more than any of that? This book calls us to consider the message of the gospel – and to ask the question of last things and what lingers beyond the veil. At the end, the author calls us to make a choice. This is a book that speaks to the seeker, the one who is seeking to grasp the infinite if in fact the infinite can be grasped. Is it possible?
There are many perspectives and views the author grapples with and at times it seems the author cannot quite do justice to the plethora of philosophical and metaphysical views that swirl in the minds of men. Yet he does try, and I appreciate that he does not shy away from the hard questions and that he attempts to honestly dialogue with those whom he disagrees. This is a beautiful primer to understanding how theism fits in and against the current trendy topics du jour, and if anything, it convinced me that most of modern popular thought is spending most of its time in the shallow end, unaware of the vast complexity of philosophy throughout the ages. This opens my eyes a bit, and reminds me how good it is to continue to read old books and old authors, to seek to avoid the biases that are confirmed when we only read authors who write in our own age. Of course I love the constant references and quoting of Tolkien and Lewis, and of course I love the firm devotion to Christ that the author cannot avoid from letting seep through. Yes, the author firmly holds to the task of speaking to the various philosophical schools of thought on many things, but he cannot help but let his wonder and love at the message of Christianity shine forth.
Something Weird 