a broken mold

This discussion is provoked by and expands a little on what Nathaniel wrote in the last post. He related how we often respond, “Fine,” in answer to “How are you doing?” and how we tend in this way to hide behind a mask and fail to cultivate the sort of beneficial relationship and care for others that is healthy and biblical. So how do we be honest?

I just wrote a paper on Christians and deception, so I’ve thought this over a bit recently. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying “Fine,” in response to “How’re you doing?” especially when asked by, say, the grocery store clerk. Most people don’t expect any more than a one-word courtesy answer. But as of late, when any of my friends or acquaintances asks me how I’m doing, I tend to respond more thoughtfully. It may be “I’m pretty tired and unproductive. Hopefully today will be better. How are you?” Or, depending on the person and their interest in encouraging and exhorting me, I might share my struggles and ask for prayer.

There are two basic truths here: speak appropriately to the situation, and be concerned for the welfare of others. In my paper, I came to the conclusion that (shocker) it comes down to heart motives. For example, some falsehoods actually convey a more important truth, as God’s deception of his enemies communicates His justice and truth. When you say that you’d love to have someone over for dinner even though you inwardly chafe at the inconvenience, it communicates that you value their company and wish to bless them; this is as it should be, and there is no need to let them know about your moment of ungodly selfishness. You know better, deal with it, and prepare dinner in the right spirit.

That was rather long-winded, but I’m tired. What I’m trying to say is that the radical honesty approach has its good applications, and its flaws as well. Sometimes we most certainly should not tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

As to the second point, let us return to the grocery store example. Or coffee shop. As I mentioned, I have been being more thoughtful in my communications with others, say, when in line for coffee at Bucer’s. (Bucer’s is a Moscow coffee shop, where I get lots of schoolwork done. Really, I do.) But sometimes they weren’t really looking for more than “I’m good,” and sometimes it’s just inconsiderate to dump your stress on someone else. The point is, in your openness and communication, be sure you are seeking to “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Eph. 4:29).

Which brings us to what Nat said about finding out what’s happening with others. It can be difficult when they think you’re asking a trite question, but I’ve witnessed many examples of friends showing a sincere interest in the other’s welfare, and it really isn’t that hard to do. When you respond honestly and show an interest in others in your daily conversations, others notice and it benefits everyone. Encourage and sharpen one another (Prov. 27:17).

To wrap up: parents, messy lives, and God. As painful as it can be, I believe it is always best to talk to your parents and work things out. It makes your relationship stronger and enables growth as Christians. Parents are the first sphere of authority set in place by God, and they love you. And life is short. Don’t let relationships fall apart and erode. Don’t let the distance grow. Lives are messy, both ours and others’. Paul wrote as the “chief of sinners” to some new-Testament Christians with terribly messy lives, but God draws straight with crooked lines. Within covenant and communion, we have already overcome the wicked one. Sanctification is a process, but the battle is, in one sense, over.

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.” — 1 Peter 5:6-11

Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl: Wide-Eyed Wonder in God’s Spoken World by N.D. Wilson is a wild ride. To be fair, the preface warns the reader with such injunctions as “This book does not go straight,” and “I’ve forgotten to include seat belts, and I don’t know where I left the liability waivers.”

The narrative weaves erratically through reflections on philosophy, quantum physics, wasp villains, and Shakespeare in a stream-of-consciousness format. Interspersed throughout are meteorological observations, insights on everyday life, and stories from the kingdom Animalia. “Have you ever heard a rabbit scream?”

In the chapter titled “The Problem of Evil and the Nonexistence of Shakespeare,” Mr. Wilson deals with the sobering reality of evil. God is the great Artist, and there is black paint in the world. “How can this Artist be good?” The Christian apologetic is presented here in a rambling, poetic style influenced by C.S. Lewis and G.K. Chesterton, and the result is truly a work of art. Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl is different; it reads with a unique style that well captures the depth and vibrancy of creation, and being thought-provoking while at it. I highly recommend this book, and I think every Christian should read it.

Note (no pun intended) that Mr. Wilson employs a few words that some might find offensive. For some thoughts on Christians and what might be called “strong” language, check out these older blog posts here and here.

True to the title, Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl takes the form of notes from life, expressing the wonder of God’s world. God’s spoken world. One theme that runs through the book like a thread (and there are many) is that of words. Everyone is given a part in God’s story.

“Our Maker waits. He would have a conversation. What words will we have? We need only one, the One who spoke us.”

For Christmas, I thought I’d post the lyrics to “a Stick, a Carrot & String,” a profound and poetic Christmas song by mewithoutYou. Incidentally, I seem to have had the same post idea as this guy. Merry Christmas!

The Horse’s hay beneath His head
our Lord was born to a manger bed,
that all whose wells run dry
could drink of His supply.

To keep Him warm the Sheep drew near,
so grateful for His coming here:
You come with news of grace,
come to take my place!

The Donkey whispered in His ear:
Child, in thirty-some-odd years,
You’ll ride someone who looks like me (untriumphantly).

While the Cardinals warbled a joyful song:
He’ll make right what man made wrong,
bringing low the hills,
that the valleys might be filled!

Then Child, asked the birds,
well, aren’t they lovely words we sing?
The tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.

At a distance stood a mangy Goat
with crooked teeth and a matted coat,
weary eyes and worn,
chipped & twisted horns.
Thinking: Maybe I’ll make friends some day
with the Cows in the pens and the Rambouillet,
but for now I’ll keep away -
I got nothin’ smart to say.

But there’s a sign on the barn in the Cabbagetown:
When the rain picks up and the sun goes down,
Sinner, Come Inside! With No Money, Come and Buy!
No clever talk nor gift to bring
requires our lowly, lovely king,
come, all emptyhanded, you don’t need anything!

And the night was cool and clear as glass
with the sneaking Snake in the garden grass,
as Deep cried out to Deep, the Disciples fast asleep.

And the snake perked up when he heard You ask:
if You’re willing that this cup might pass
we could find our way back home,
maybe start a family all our own…
but does not the Father guide the Son?
Not my will but Yours be done!
What else here to do?
What else me but You???

And the snake who’d held the world,
a stick, a carrot and a string, was crushed
beneath the Foot of Your not wanting anything.

YouTube link.

I wanted to showcase a contrast that came to me during today’s Christmas service at Christ Covenant Church. Pastor Tollefson described Christ’s birth as a great boom (including the angel choirs, of course) that put a fear in Satan and a battle in his future. This great boom in turn reminded me of the mewithoutYou song January 1979, the full lyrics of which can be found here. The beginning of the song runs like this:

January 1979, saw a terrible crash
And I couldn’t help but laugh
My ear pressed against the past
Like a glass on a wall of a hospital photograph
My forehead no longer sweet
With holy kisses worthy of your fiery lips
I was floating in a peaceful sea
Rescued by a sinking ship

From what I’ve read on the internet, and it makes sense to me, Aaron Weiss is referring to his own birth (former member Daniel Pishock was born the same month, too). He calls it a terrible crash because he, a sinful being from birth, as we all are, entered the world. I’m not all sure about the middle bits, but the last two lines, from what I’ve read, refer to his seeming innocence before birth and then his pick up by a ship; a seeming rescue, but one from a sinking ship, that is, our nature of sin in a sinful world. I think the whole song does have more on this theme of life, like the line “My life is a cup of sugar I’ve borrowed before time began and forgot to return.” (And to diverge slightly, I must say I’ve found SongMeanings helpful for understanding mewithoutYou. I have thought of some insights on my own, but mewithoutYou has very profound and pithy lyrics, and outside sources are helpful to me in understanding them.)

So anyway, I wanted to draw that parallel between the terrible crash of sinful birth and the great joyous boom of sinless birth. Two types of noises. Lots of the first, one of the second, but for us the second should far outshine the first, since Christ’s death atoned for all of us, while each of our births might bring some joy of life, but do not ultimately save anyone and are really futile in comparison. We might have our terrible little crashes but they are nothing in the face of Christ’s perfect virgin human birth.

I have a confession to make. I plan blog posts in my head.

Is that so bad? Maybe. It’s just that I catch myself starting to write these great posts in my head and feel guilty because it’s not spur of the moment authentic. But then, of course, planned writing isn’t bad. It’s good¹. And spontaneous writing can be good, too.

One of the bad things about this blog planning, though, is that I imagine myself writing these great posts and realize that they’re not always true, or I’m just trying to sound smart, or I want comment kudos. Being smart and getting comments isn’t at all bad – I’m just greedy and that’s bad.

What I really want is an honest, open style that doesn’t come across as terrible for being truthful and humble. Goodness, it’s human nature to try to seem more than we are, even to ourselves. Truth of the matter is, I’m not a great (as in epic, famous) writer. Please don’t let me take that to either extreme: I don’t want to be prideful about being humble and I don’t want to be prideful.

I remember when I wrote a terrible review of Paul Comon’s book on composition in photography – it sucked because I was trying to sound good and it came across as canned, tacky and cheesy. I rewrote it a little more honestly and I think it came out much better. I’m not a professional literature critic; why should I try?

And on that note, I’ve been thinking a little bit in this vein about art. Bad art does try to come across as high and mighty and make its author important and ends up being unintelligible and just dumb. Good art works hard and makes a beautiful thing with true depth. As critics of art, even amateur ones, I wonder if we sometimes try to read into art more meaning and depth than is there – obfuscate the matter with big words and complex ideas and try to sounds smart – maybe it’s bad art, maybe it’s good art that’s just not that deep; I think it could go either way.

Afterword: I’ve taken to kind of stream-of-consciousnessing in my Moleskine and am tempted to post some of these ramblings. They are somewhat spur of the moment (and riddled with crazy grammar because of it) but I’m trying to be honest with what I’m thinking and explore life and God’s world. Alright, take a deep breath, and then remember I’m probably not as sincere as I just sounded. Narcissism (def. 1), remember?