Fall Break and the Week Preceding It (or, I'll Never Marry a Philosopher)

Philosophy students are nuts. Full out, straight up, completely melodramatic and irrational. (Ironic?) We had "The Big" metaphysics test on Tuesday and it was a frenzy of philosophy majors in and out of the union carrying their caffeine pills in one hand, book in the other, and a box of Kleenex balanced on their heads. No one showered or slept or ate for days and the only time we tore our eyes from the page was to cry in each others' arms.

Fortunately, I tried my very best to avoid the panic that consumed most of those dear friends of mine. I was The Rock. No one ever died from a metaphysics test, I told myself. (And no one did from this one, either.) And through all the confusion about ontology, realism, presentism and other concepts of time, I did come to a very solid conclusion about the metaphysics of my life and future: I will and never could marry a philosophy major. When so many people who think in more-or-less the same way start talking about the nature of existence, everything just gets absurd. So that conclusion simplifies my life significantly. Good.

The weekend was Fall Break and a well needed break it was...though it didn't quite serve its purpose like I hoped. I had planned to read Dostoyevski, sleep, read "The Weight of Glory," sleep, and chill out with the chicas (and sleep). There ended up being more running around than I anticipated, but it was good nonetheless.

The best part of the weekend (besides a massage and napping in a heap with Libby, Rachel, and Kelsey) was watching a cross-country meet in downtown Grand Rapids. It was cold and wet and miserable outside and honestly, cross country is pretty darn boring to watch...until you get to the finish line. There, everything comes together in a thrilling climax of collapsing, convulsions, vomit, and utter exhaustion. I watched as guys ran their very hardest to finish five miles in under 25 minutes and as soon as they crossed the finish line, began to fall over, puke their guts out, and stumble into each others' arms.

It was a poignant image of Paul's words in Philippians 3:12-14, Hebrews 12:1 and elsewhere. The race of the Christian life is not a steady jog where we cross the finish line and catch our breath in a few seconds. The runners who came in towards the end of the race weren't half as exhausted, indicating that they hadn't run quite their hardest. No, we have to be like the ones who gave every last bit of energy and ended so gloriously. I want to collapse into heaven, knowing that I did everything for God's glory. Yes, I want to puke my guts out to the glory of God.

Fear and Trembling

Kierkegaard is pretty great. Just throwin' that out there.

I've been all into Fear and Trembling these days and it's surprisingly consistent with my own experience. One thing that's particularly striking is how Kierkegaard writes that faith is not something we can easily communicate. We cannot express it in mere words. I've definitely faced this in the last few months. Words fail. Expression is impossible. Any noise I might let loose falls short of conveying the truth and conviction of what I know in my head and my heart. I've been driven into spells of silence. Not going mute, but succumbing to the feeling? passion? thoughts? (even now words are insufficient for me to say what I mean) that are overwhelming. I can hardly describe them to myself, much less another human being.

Kierkegaard also describes faith as something beyond mere resignation of what we cannot sustain on our own. Abraham did not merely sacrifice Isaac with no expectation that God would do something great through it all. He didn't just "let go" or "give up." The difference is that he expected--he had faith--that God would follow through with His promises even though the obvious means were gone. Perhaps true faith was even the very specific expectation that, though God was taking Isaac away, He would surely give him back somehow.

The question comes, though, regarding specificity and subjectivity. When we seek God in faith, can we come to Him with great expectations that very specific desires of our heart will be fulfilled (though, perhaps in His time)? Or do we give Him a ton of slack, acknowledging that He will in some way fulfill our happiness, whether in this life or the next.

The former option requires a lot of wisdom. In fact, it seems irrational to others (perhaps why we fail to communicate it well.) These are things we desire that couldn't easily be explained away. What we ask for--expect, even--are almost miracles. And yet, we can't go wishing things completely subjectively, arbitrarily even, and say that God will bring it about because we "have faith." Perhaps we go on with this "faith" through the rest of our lives, living in perfect "confidence" that God will give us our hopes and desires. But then we die and discover that, though good things have come and more good awaits, in this specific instance we have been deluding ourselves. We lived in illusion and to God's disgrace, we dubbed it "faith."

The latter option seems to be entirely irrelevant in its vagueness. If we hope in generalities, thinking "whatever comes, God will work it out," it will no doubt become true. But there is no test in that, no determination, nothing to try a person and test their trust and dependence on the Father. As the Cheshire Cat said to Alice, it doesn't matter what road you take if you don't know where you want to go. We almost make our God too little by giving Him little expectations. Ask for big things and see what He gives you.

So I suppose it comes down to discernment. We can't be arbitrary, but neither can we be limited. Pure reason falls short, but mere feeling or intuition is absurd. Faith is the grey area where we seek Him, give all for Him, and acknowledge that when it all works out, it's because He acted on our behalf. "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express... He who did not spare His own Son but gave him up for us all, how will He not also with him graciously give us all things?"

Rampage

Sometimes I wonder what the HELL I'm doing in media communications. Do I really think I can make it? And if I did, do I really think I could change how people think? Heck, could I even get them to think at all? People go to the movies as a form of escapism. Any message they really take in is subconscious, if at all (it seems). How could you reach people, educate them, challenge them--through something that's hardly more influential than a dream??!

How would I be any different than the radio station that helps faceless, nameless kids through instant messaging? It feeds our neglect of personal, one-on-one relationships. Hell, how do I deal through that when it's what I consider the BANE of our society and civilization??

What would I do if not media? Probably some combo of economics, theology, philosophy, and God knows what else. There's not time enough on the earth to learn what I want to know. That may well be my downfall. (P.S. I'm currently browsing a book about modern youth culture. Why? Because it interests me.)

So what about now? There's not a snowball's chance in hell that I'll drop media com. Not only would that be STUPID at this point, but I'd probably be tortured and burned alive and, hell, probably excommunicated for it. And frick, I don't really want to drop it anyway. I love media and it excites me. But how does it contribute the the fulfillment of my hopes, dreams, and desires? How does media relate to politics, economics, human dignity, theology, the pursuit of knowledge, and the FREAKING HUMAN CONDITION IN GENERAL?? HUH?!? Tell me that, Andrew freaking John Bruner!! (Don't worry--I do love you. :)

Ahem. (expletive) Now I won't fall asleep for hours.

The Philosophizing Movie-Watcher

I just finished a more personal journal entry which I won't share here, but it caused me to do a bit of integrative thinking (my favorite kind).

I was journaling about how certain things have changed my perspective of late on a particular subject. That particular entry was sparked by a movie I watched, Tsotsi. It's a unique movie about a young criminal in South Africa...but it didn't provoke thoughts about social justice or crime or poverty or what-have-you. The thoughts and ideas I came up with may seem a long way off from the point of the movie, actually.

But at the moment, I can't share those ideas. The problem is this: I don't watch movies like most people watch movies. When I'm at school, I have no time for watching movies and when I do, they're usually just because everyone else happens to be watching a movie and I never really care what the movie is. (For instance, Cool Runnings or something like that.) Usually those movies are just fun with little to really process and think about. When I'm home and I have time to watch movies more often, I never have anyone to watch them with me. My parents are rather sensitive to rough content in movies. My dad (Lord love him) doesn't like a lot of f-words and he usually avoids anything with sexual content. Well, that's okay, I guess. But I am compelled that we live in an R-rated world and it's naive to go through life avoiding certain things--like f-words. And my little sisters are obviously too young for most of the stuff I watch.

So I watch movies by myself most of the time. I see it more as an academic exercise than entertainment. There's more to a movie than jsut what moves your emotions and that's what I enjoy so much.

But the problem is that I watch these movies by myself--and get more out of it than I would from watching High School Musical *3* or Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman (my sisters' pick)--but have no one to share it with. Unfortunately, I don't think that's what philosophizing is for. The purpose of any revelation is to share it with others. "Now go, and tell about what you have seen here." That's my calling: to share with others the depth and essence of my experiences--whether firsthand, vicarious, spiritual, personal, emotional, etc.

So the question remains: is this the right way to do things? I believe movies are meant to be shared with others. Is it worth it to watch by myself and revel in the philosophy that comes but not be able to share it with others? Or would it be better to not experience it and not have this passion that I simply can't communicate to others? I will have to explore and find out.