Friday, January 28, 2005

Humility from Autobiography

One of the themes that keeps repeating in my head with regard to this class is the idea of intellectual humility. I wrote in a previously blog about humility as a theme in Anderson's book, and I think I'm beginning to get a clearer sense of what this has to do with autobiography in general.

In class on Wednesday we talked about autobiography as a way to connect to something outside of history, and outside of ourselves even. So, when we write autobiographically, we are actually describing a drop of time that can then be related to something bigger than ourselves. (Does that make sense? I'm still tyring to work out this issue...)

I think that writing autobiographically is an effective way to create intellectual humility in our own lives. One thing I love about Augustine is his openness about his mistakes. He describes things that maybe some people wouldn't even think twice about, and he explains the misery of his sin and his deep need for God's grace. Augustine writes humbly, never claiming to be better than he is. He acknowledges certain academic gifts (such as his aptitude for learning in school), but he also plainly describes his mistakes. Of course, we may never know all the things that Augustine left out of his autobiography, but the things he chose to write about are humbling experiences. He writes about his experiences as a way to humble himself and exalt God in his own heart and mind.

I'm beginning to see how wonderful it can be to honestly evaluate our own personal experiences. I think that, no matter where we come from, our experiences have value. Even lives that may be considered banal by some, have value. In fact, I think the more personal our writing, the more our writing points to something other than ourselves. Why do we read autobiography? Not because we can necessarily relate to the specific events that the author describes, but so that we can see a person's humanity, so that we can see something greater in a life that is just a moment in time. Our lives are short, but autobiography can help makes sense of the world around us.

When I relate events of my own life, for example, to other people, a lot of people have the tendency to think that what I've experienced is harder, or more intense than the experiences of some others. I was born in England (to American parents), when I was 11 we moved to Russia, and then when I graduated from highschool in Russia I went to Canada for a year before finally coming to the U.S. I've seen a lot of interesting/exciting/scary/crazy things, and I'm thankful for all the things I've experienced. But my life isn't inherently better than someone who may have lived all their life in the same small Oregon town. My experiences are as valuable as I make them. What's important is not necessarily what we've experienced, but rather how we respond to our experiences.

(But as a side note, living in Russia was AMAZING, and it completely changed everything for me. That's vague, but I'll leave it that way.)

But to write autobiographically is to make oneself vulnerable, and this is where the idea of humility comes in. I know that I many ways I am a very closed person to other people, because I don't want to open up about things that they may misinterpret or not understand. I don't want to tell everyone everything about my life, because some things are personal, and I want to save them for people I know, for people I trust. I'm acutely aware of my vulnerability when I open up to people more than usual. But this humility and vulnerability is what makes autobiography so important and valuable.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Eloquence

In my last blog, I wrestled with the relationship between science and faith. In conjunction with these things, I have also been thinking about eloquence and the art of convincing people. What role does reason play, along with science, in discussing spiritual matters with others?

When Augustine met Faustus, the issue of eloquence was raised. I get the impression the Faustus was a very eloquent and convincing speaker, but his rhetoric really just covered up his own lack of understanding in certain matters. His speeches were not indicative of his spiritual understanding, but only showed that he had the gift of pleasant and convincing speech.

I think that fancy words and rhetorical techniques get in the way of clear messages sometimes. Some people just have a natural skill for convincing people, even if their position is not the popular one. But in order to clearly communicate with one another, we need to make sure that our words are not just "smoke and wind." I don't want to talk (or write) just for the sake of talking, but I want to have something meaningful to say, without covering my true message up and obscuring it with confusing words.

What does this have to do with religion, and with Christianity more specifically? Well, being a Christian defines so much of who I am and what I stand for, and my faith naturally comes up in conversations with other people. And of course, I try to explain to people why I believe what I believe. I want people to give me a chance, I want them to be open to the reasons I think that Christianity makes so much sense.

But I also believe that there is a spiritual, faith side of things to my beliefs. I can use my reason to explain it to people, and I can be eloquent as possible, but ultimately, my eloquence will convince no one. God draws people, and individuals will make their choices based on much more than just the words I say.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is that I believe knowing what we believe is important, and explaining clearly what we believe is important as well. But our words, while powerful at times, cannot convince anyone to do anything they don't want to do or believe in. The decision to reject or receive Christ is personal, and based on more than a convincing argument.

If faith was based on reason alone, then it seems like there would be no debates about anything, there would be no questioning and searching, because the "answers" would be obvious to people. But Christianity, while reasonable, is not something our words can convince people of.

Augustine didn't become a Christian based only on the words of others, but he constantly acknowledges the work that God was doing in HIm. Everything in his life was working toward his decision. It wasn't just one thing that convinced (or confused) him - it was many things, it was his experiences, it was his convictions, it was God drawing him.

And I want to tell people about what I believe, and I think the Bible calls Christians to proclaim the message of Christ. But the Bible also shows that God is the one who convinces people. I think we should just be honest with one another about our beliefs, rather than disguising things with rhetoric in order to sound more convincing.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

Science and Reason

I have been doing a lot of thinking today about Manicheeism, the relationship between science and faith, and Augustine in general.

As mentioned in a previous blog, I went through a time of extreme searching and questioning. I wanted to reject Christianity for so many reasons. (This near-rejection of Christianity happened, ironically enough, while I was attending a Bible college). But even during that time of spiritual stuggle and wrestling with God, I couldn't give up on my faith completely. Everything that happened that year seemed to pull me away from God and push me towards Him at the same time.

One of the main reasons that I didn't completely give up on my faith in God was because Christianity just made too much sense. I couldn't bring myself to think that no God existed, and if God did exist, then I thought that Christianity made the most sense about Him. In so many ways, I stuck with Christianity because it made sense intellectually to me. It wasn't just a blind leap of faith, although faith was necessary.

And so I've also thought that there are reasons to believe that Christianity is true. Science and religion never really seemed to contradict each other in my mind. I realized, however, that no matter what evidences there are for the validity of Christainity, I will never be able to just lay down evidence and see people "convert." While, in my mind, science isn't an enemy of religion in any way, it also isn't suffient to draw people to God.

What really draws people? In my experience, my words, my narrative, my explanations, are not suffcient to convince people. In order for people to choose God, He must choose them. (Naturally, the endless Predestination debate arises from what I just said, but I'm going to completely avoid that issue in this blog for now). Science isn't enough. I don't believe that Christianity is irrational or without foundation, but I believe that there is an element of faith in believing it's Truth.

This is what I've been seeing in Augustine's own story. I'm getting the impression that Augustine was a bright fellow, and that he thought about important issues before his conversion. But his intellect wasn't enough, although after his conversion his approach to Christianity seems rational and clever to me. He describes the work that God does in his life, he descrbes the mercy and compassion of the Lord, even while he was turning away from God in his thoughts and actions.

God seems to be at the center of Augustine's conversion. God is the author of his story. Augustine's writing gives the picture of God's sovereign hand working events for His purposes. Augustine isn't stupid, and he doesn't treat his faith irrationally, but he does recognize that science will not be enough to draw people to God.

Concupiscence: Mistaken Desire

"Seek what you seek, but it's not where you are seeking it."

As human beings, we are driven by desire whether we admit it or not. We do those things that we think will make us happy and fulfill us. I like the idea Augustine presents in the passage I just quoted: it's okay (totally normal, in fact) to look for happiness and seek it out, but the problem comes when we don't realize what it is that truly makes us happy in the long run.

I would go so far as to say that a lot of times we look to gratify our immediate desires, and we ignore the long-term consequences of our actions. I think that mistaken desire may often come from a lack of a bigger perspective. Once Augustine gave his life over to God, for example, then his desires changes a little. He gained a different perspectives, and so he interpreted his desires differently.

I admire Augustine in many ways for his wisdom and discernment, although I recognize that he didn't have it all together either. He struggled with putting into practice some of his views. But I think even putting down on paper new ideas and thoughts is an important part of the process in which we grow, learn, and evolve emotionally.

I hope that as I mature I will be able to interpret more and more intelligently. What are the things that will make me truly happy, and what are the things that will cause me pain in the long run?

Now that I think about it, this seems like a quite selfish approach to life. What kind of person will I be if I am constantly preoccupied with my own happiness and well-being? But this is where Augustine's wisdom comes in. Often, the things that make me happy are the things that I do for other people. Doing things for other people is not always easy, being selfless is not always easy. In the long run though, putting others first is the most satisfying way to live.

Also, despite looking out for ourselves all the time, sad and awful things happen. Evil/pain cannot be avoided in this world, unfortunately. I don't think I need to go out looking specifically for suffering, because suffering just IS in this world, and I will be affected by it. So why not, in the mean time, seek to satisfy the desires God has given me, within the context of an eternal perspective.

I hope people don't read this and conclude that stuff like murder and rape are okay, as a long as they fulfill a desire and make a person happy. That's not what I'm saying at all. I'm just saying that desires are okay, and seeking to satisfy them is okay, as long as we seek to be satisfied with wisdom and insight and morality.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Humility in Learning

"For when I studied the Scriptures then I did not feel as I am writing about them now. They seemed to me unworthy of comparison with the grand style of Cicero. For my pride shrank from their modesty, and my sharp eye was not penetrating enough to see into their depths. Yet these Scriptures would grow up together with a little child; I, however, throught too highly of myself to become a little child; swollen with pride, I was, in my own eyes, a grown-up."

It is wonderful to hear Augustine's love for the Scripture, and relieving (in some ways) to hear his own personal story of his journey toward love of God and His Word. Augustine's autobiography in this passage is so comforting to me, and so cutting in its honesty.

My own journey in life began with Christian parents. They gave me a Christian framework with which to view the world, for which I am forever grateful. But when I left home, I began to question the beliefs that I had been raised with. I started questioning God, the validity of the Bible, and Christianity (ie Christians) especially. This was a difficult time - a time when I questioned everything and felt very unstable.

This time of questioning eventually resulted in the firm convictions I hold now. But much like Augustine, I had to accept the glorious mystery of the Bible before I could enjoy it. The Bible is a vast work, and people who have devoted their lives to studying it still don't know all the mysteries it holds. For a long time I think I missed out on the joy of reading the Bible because I failed to see its depth. I read the stories of Christ unmoved and confused. I didn't take the time to really study the text and meditate on it, probably because I wasn't able to see how deep its pages could really go. I needed God to open my heart and show me what He wanted me to be shown.

Once I began to really READ the Bible, reflect on it, and study it, then my relationship with God became much more vibrant and real.

I think the key to the passage I quoted at the beginning of this blog is humility. Augustine first approached the Bible with a proud and arrogant sense of his own intellect. He took a purely intellectual approach to the Bible, and could not see the depth of that great book. We hinder our learning when we approach texts with pompous, pre-formed opinions about the greatness (or emptiness) of a text.

To use an example from outside of the Scripture, let me describe my experience with reading Hemingway. I tried to read "The Sun Also Rises" three times before I actually made it through. Everyone always told me that Hemingway is such a great author and blah, blah, blah. But I found his writing bland, and I left the book disappointed. But when I took a class where we read the book again, the teacher talked about passages that I had skipped over because of their seeming simplicity. When we discussed all the things that we were being hinted at between the lines, when we noticed how careful the word choices and selections were, when we found the beauty in those "simple" passages, then I began to realize the depth that can be found in a Hemingway book.

We shouldn't approach any text by limiting its possibilities. The beauty of literature (and the Bible especially) is that we can read it over and over and keep coming to new discoveries and conclusions. And the more conclusions we come to, the more questions we come to as well. And that's what's so great about approaching books with a little intellectual humility.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Why Learn?

I loved Augustine's attitude about learning. He considered everything that didn't point him to God as waste of time. He says, in reference to his classical education, "Is not all this mere smoke and wind? And was there really no other subject on which I could have employed my tongue and exercised my intelligence? Indeed there was. I might have praised you, Lord..."

I don't think that he's saying that reading and writing is bad. I don't think he's belittiling literature in any way. But Augustine puts his eduaction in perspective. It seems like he thinks more "eternally" than I do. He wants to learn what will benefit him spiritually and emotionally - he wants to study things that are applicable and valuable in his life. The most important thing became his relationship with God, and so, anything that didn't enhance that wasn't really valuable.

As an English major, sometimes I wonder why I spend so much time reading books and studying them. I realize that studying just for the sake of studying is futile in many ways. But if what I study can be related to my life, then it becomes valuable. If I start reading literature in a more personal way, then it becomes meaningful.

Augustine knew what made him tick. He knew his love and need for God. As I read literature, I want to read it in the context of what is important to me. I like the idea of the meditation on a text, the free association. The association leads to a translation of our feelings and of what happens to us when we read. If I miss out on the translation part of literature, then I am missing out on one of the best parts of reading and learning.

If I want to make the most of my education, then I want to treat it the way Augustine approaches the world. He approaches the world by applying meaning to everything he does based on his core beliefs. As I read, study, and learn, I don't want to forget the most important part of the process: application. The things I read and learn become meaningful only as I interpret the feelings they inspire in me. The things I learn become meaningful as I apply what I read to my own personal beliefs.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Faith in the University: Conclusions

Professor Anderson's book seemed so full of information, personal thoughts, and personal experiences. But at the end of it all, only a few sure things stood out to me:

The book concluded with examples of Anderson "crossing the line." The book ended with the importance of our personal beliefs. The book ended with intellectual humility, coupled with religious conviction.

In my life at the university, and in my life as a Christian, I continue to realize how little I know and truly understand. The more I study the Bible, the more I see the vast array of knowledge and revelations can be found in that book. But on the other hand, the more I study the Bible, the more I become convicted about the truths revealed in that amazing book. I am more convicted and convinced now of the truth of Jesus' teachings now than I was 4 years ago.

After wrestling with what Augustine meant by saying he was "confounded and converted," I have come to my own conclusion - a conclusion that I see played out in my own personal life. It's not that Christianity makes no sense - it makes a lot of sense in many ways - but the pleasant uncertainty comes from the acceptance that we will never fully know and understand the purposes and ways of God. Our finite minds cannot fathom all that God has done, and all that He has revealed through the Bible. And therefore we stand in awe of the mystery of God, and we are confused by it.

I think that this confusion does not mean that we can't claim that certain things are true. Just like Augustine defended his faith, I want to defend mine, because I believe in its rationality. I believe that we can know some things based on the revelation of God through the Bible. But, like Augustine, I recognize my limitations, and I recognize how much I don't understand.

So this is what I understood from Anderson's book: we should all come to literature and the university with humility and an understanding of our limitations as humans. But we should never abandon our convictions, and, as Christians, we should never forget the Christian spirituality that has (for some us) shaped our lives and hearts.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

A Brief Caveat

After re-examining my past couple blogs, I'm feeling a little chagrined for the possible negative tone that can be read into what I wrote.

In writing these blogs I'm just trying to hash through the things about this class that I don't understand. I'm trying to make sense of what I believe in the midst of all this new dialogue and information.

Hopefully I will never feel guilty for having my own opinions and beliefs, but I don't want my strong opinions to come across angrily or spitefully. I don't intend to give up being opinionated - I only hope that I can be opinionated with grace and integrity.

So as you (whoever you are) read the things I have written that make me feel vulnerable, keep in mind that I am not purposefully trying to stir up argument or pretend. I'm only trying to find out the Truth, the one that makes the most sense. I'm only trying to express the internal struggles (both positive and negative) that are seem to be induced by this class. I'm only trying to thoughtfully discuss the implications of the ideas expressed in class.

Maybe I've confused you more, but I have put my mind to rest.

A Response to Class Discussion

In class today, someone mentioned that, although at first glance it appears that Augustine embraced Christianity because of its uncertainty, he went on to the defend the truthfulness of Christianity in many other books. I was glad this was brought up, because I think it is a good example of being able to make an out of context passgae say whatever we want it to say.

I don't necessarily disagree with Anderson's claim that St. Augustine embraced the multiplicity of the Bible, but I would put it somewhat differently. I would say that there are some things that the Bible makes abundantly clear. As Anderson so aptly mentioned, it is important to interpret the unclear passages of the Bible by using the passages that cannot be mistaken. The most important commandent is to love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and to love your neighbor as yourself. It's hard to mistake Jesus' meaning here. He's talking about what is most important in life. Of course the Bible is unclear in parts, but let's not disregard the whole thing as unintelligable because of difficult passages. And, as a we see from Augustine's later writer, he is not afraid to voice his opinions about the truth and validity of the Bible.

Another thing that caught my attention in class was Anderson's claim that Christian fundamentalist students will probably leave the class without their fundamentalism. He said that perhaps students will learn not to read the Bible literally anymore. I respect the fact that the Professor Anderson wants to change our presuppositions about the Bible, and that he wants to help us to identify our biases and opinions. However, I have a hard time with his statement; firstly because he also mentioned the importance of actually making a choice and taking a stand for what we believe. Isn't this what fundamentalists have done? Shouldn't we at least appreciate that in an uncertain world, they have taken a stand for what the consider to be of ultimate value? Secondly, I'm not sure what robbing students of their ideals has to do with this class in any way.

That sounded harsher than I meant it to sound. What I'm really trying to say is that if we can provide good reason to believe what we believe, then I think our beliefs hold importance and value. Of course I understand that as a teacher, Anderson cannot keep things objective. But on the other hand, it seems rather harsh to aim fire at fundamentalists who have beliefs that are based on the (in my opinion) clearer passages of the Bible.

I know that in many ways Professor Anderson is providing an opportunity for people of all beliefs to dialogue with one another (and I'm thankful in many ways for the openness of this class).But I think that if we are going to give deference to all viewpoints, then we shouldn't exclude the fundamentalists, and their literal take on what the Bible has to say.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

A Reasonable Interpretation

One of the things that made me initially nervous about this class was the idea that we might be taught to be unreasonable in the name of "emotionalism."

Let me clarify: I have noticed that sometimes when people place a lot of emphasis on personal experiences and emotions, they end up using that as an excuse to believe even the most ridiculous and outrageous things - things farfetched and unreasonable. I hesitate to say this, because on the other end of the spectrum I think that people who try to interpret ideas based on reason (and what can be proved scientifically) alone, are limiting themselves, too.

I still think I'm not making sense. Let me explain what I'm NOT trying to say. I'm not tyring to say that everyone in this class should come to the same conclusions at the end of the term. I'm not trying to say that we should ignore the emotional and personal part of reading and interpreting literature. But I am trying to say that, based on our personal experiences, and on our reason, we should come to the most plausible interpretations possible of the texts that we're reading. In other words, like Anderson says himself, some interpretations seem to be "better" than others.

And so, Anderson has calmed my nervousness a little.

We've already established that none of us can be objective in coming to this class and to these texts, and, thankfully, no one is asking us to be. In my opinion, however, I think it would be a mistake to use our subjectivity to arrive at conclusions/interpretations that are contrary to what we are reading. I think one of the great joys of literature is that authors are trying to say something, and we get to try to interpret what that something is. Whether or not we agree or disagree with the interpretaions is another thing entirely.

I'm not even saying that there is only ONE interpretation of these texts. But I think that some interpretations hold more validity than others, and we should be seeking out those interpretations - the interpretations that make sense according to what the author has written.

I will stop here, for fear that I have over-complicated this entry and confused people. But all I'm really saying is that we should look for the best interpretation of these texts, not excluding our biases, but being aware of them, and not using them as an excuse to ignore what the texts actually say. So there, I'll stop beating a dead horse and end this blog.

Monday, January 10, 2005

The Process of Writing

Talking about C.S. Lewis in class today has inspired me to freewrite more often. The fact that he started writing The Chronicles of Narnia with only images and pictures in his head, and then ended up with (among other things) an allegory for the Christian faith is amazing. I think that freewriting is one way to get a grasp on what we really think and believe at our core. Because as we begin to write freely, as we lay aside our "intentions" and our "agendas," we will end up with the things that we really think and believe. Once we let our imaginations roam free, who knows what we will accomplish in our writing? Who knows what fulfillment and joy we may find...

I hope that as we read the texts for this term we will be able to gain insight into these great literary authors. We can maybe catch a glimpse of what really mattered to them, and why it mattered so much. And in addition to gaining insight into authors, I think that we will also be able to gain insight into our own lives and personalities. As we interpret these stories, we will apply them to our lives, and we will use our unique experiences to interpret these texts in a unique way.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Filling in the gaps

After re-reading certain passages of Anderson's book, I have gained a little more clarity into this course, I think. Up to this point I have not understood what connection this book could really have to the texts that we will be exploring this term. But the chapter on the Gospel of Mark has made things a little clearer (I hope).

I was struck by Anderson's point that Mark's terse style draws us into the text, and helps us engage a little more with it. Instead of answering every possible question, Mark reports events as they happened, leaving gaps, leaving the interpretation to us. I think that these gaps could directly relate to how we will approach the readings for this term. Through the personal styles of the individual writers, we should begin to see their passion for their subject, but also their lack of total clarity. Readers of literature can not always know for sure the intent and thoughts of the writers we study. We can gather only so much information from their style and subject before we have to start making interpretations for ourselves.

And I think I am beginning to see and understand some of Anderson's love for literature. The joy of reading comes not only from dissecting the author's story, but joy also comes from acknowledging the gaps in narrative and information. We find joy in applying our own experiences and personalities to the interpretations of these classical works.

I think that there is much to be said for carefully analyzing texts and dissecting them. There is much to be said for logical argument and discussion. But our literary studies should not stop there. We should be detecting the gaps, and the things that remain unsaid. We should not withold our experiences from our interpretations. Literature is great because there is something in great writing that draws us in and involves us. It would be a shame to read emotionlessly. Scholasticism is important, but there is more to literature than that. Great literature should involve us and stir us. Maybe we disagree with the author, or maybe we agree - but the point is that we engage ourselves with these texts.

I am beginning to see the value of Mark's terse style. HIs style allows us to let our emotions take control. His terseness invites us to interpret and fill in the blanks. How will Dante's style affect me? How will St. Augustine's? What baggage do I bring that will shape the interpretive frame I give to these works? Anderson writes about Mark as an example of involvement, and he writes his book as an example of how his own biases and ideas have changed and strengthened his literay experiences.

We all bring something unique to these texts, something that will help us to interpret what we read and make these books significant to us.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

First Impressions

Well, it's taken me all week to get over my fear of technology and actually submit a blog. I'm definitely stepping out of my comfort zone for this assignment...

But all that aside, what do I think of Anderson's book? My first impression has been one of confusion. I'm having a hard time understanding what it all has do to with the books we will be reading this term. I've been trying to set aside my own religious views in order to understand where Anderson is coming from, but it's been hard. My Christian faith seems to be a much different kind of faith than Anderson's, and yet there are some similarities too.

I do highly appreciate reading about a professor who is honest about his experiences as a Christian in a state university. But despite my admiration of his integration of faith and the university, I still am having a difficult time connecting this to the texts we will be reading this term. I am hoping that things will become more clear as we dive into those texts.

It seems like Anderson's argument takes many levels, but one things that stood out to me is that he seems to value emotional response to literature very highly (maybe even more than a "logical" response or approach). When he writes about his experiences at a state university he describes his emotional and spiritual experiences in reading the BIble and the literature he teaches. While on one level, I admire his approach to work and to literature, on another level it makes me uncomfortable. Emotional experiences are personal and individual, and don't need to be taught necessarily. But reading a text in light of historical context and literary criticism is so worthwhile and informative - I think that valuable emotional response to literature stems from an intelluctual and factual base of study.

Of course, I think that we always have trouble with new ideas and methods. We are often obstinate people, unwilling to be open to new ideas and methods. And so I'll stay open to this class, which is so foreign to me in its structure.

One of my vices is that I tend to stay focused on things I disagree with, rather than also affirming and admitting the things that I do agree with. I will try not to be too negative in this blog. I will make an effort to explain aspects of this course and these texts that I enjoy. But first, I must explain one of the things that I found confusing and perhaps even contradictory in the argument of Anderson's book:

Early on in the book Anderson explains that he values his faith because he can take it off (26). He says that there IS a line in the university - a point after which he cannot and may not share all of his Christian thoughts and experiences. As the book continues, though, I get the impression that he is not taking his faith off at all. And by the end of the book it seems that his argument is that he crosses the Line all the time in his work, and that's okay. Honestly, I agree with him - I think that if something is really important to us, then it should be evident in everything that we do. My question is then: Doesn't value in our faith come from NOT being able to take it off?

So those are my first impressions. In many ways I am disappointed with Anderson's approach to teaching these texts. I thrive on a more structured and contextual approach to literature. But on the other hand I am excited, and I am willing to bet that I may change many of my views by the end of the term.