Friday, February 24, 2006

Frederica is Cool

Frederica Mathewes-Green is my new hero.

She very much reminds me of Chesterton -- showing Christianity in a new and deep and rich and imaginative way. Quite honestly, stuff like this could basically be described as a reiteration of the introduction to The Everlasting Man:

America is far from spiritually monolithic, but the vast backdrop of our culture is Christian, and for most of us it is the earliest faith we know. The "idea of the God-man" is not strange or scandalous, because it first swam in milk and butter on the top of our oatmeal decades ago. At that age, many things were strange, though most were more immediately palpable. A God-filled baby in a pile of straw was a pleasant image, but somewhat theoretical compared with the heartstopping exhilaration of a visit from Santa Claus. The way a thunderstorm ripped the night sky, the hurtling power of the automobile Daddy drove so bravely, the rapture of ice cream–how could the distant Incarnation compete with those?

We grew up with the Jesus story, until we outgrew it. The last day we walked out of Sunday School may be the last day we seriously engaged this faith. Thus the average person’s conception of the Christian faith is a child’s conception, still hobbled by a child’s perspective and presumptions. We were fed the oatmeal version of Christianity, boiled down to what a child could comprehend, and to many it never occurs that there might be something more to know. The other great faiths of the world we encounter as adults, and can perceive their depth and complexity. We cease thinking about Christianity when we are children, and so fail to glimpse the power and passion that has inspired poets and martyrs and theologians for millennia. There is ample material here to ponder for a lifetime. The problem is, we think we already know it all.
(link)

And she can write intelligently, awarely, compassionately, and with conviction about such things as abortion. So much so that both pro-lifers and pro-choicers recommend her books.

She's apparently managing to do the same thing with the topic of homosexuality, too. And gender-neutral Bible translations. And other super-hot-topic cultural issues that normally end up with both sides screaming at one another and reaching for machetes.

And I'm also very happy to find someone talking about politics and Christianity like this.


She has one of the absolute best ears to today's culture that I've come across. And she's not afraid to wrestle with hard things honestly -- acknowledging her own doubts on matters; recognizing oversights or wrongs done by those on the "right" side (as it were). Honesty is a good thing. With a good deal of experience and humility mixed in.

Yeah, and she's Eastern Orthodox. (And, no, I'm not joining the Whitley Theological Angst party over it. ;))

Monday, February 13, 2006

Choir and Transcendentalist Hymns

Choir is incredible on Thursdays now. The new director is actually teaching us sight-singing skills. And part of the warmup involves two-voice harmonization. I hereby recant any complaining I have indulged in concerning this semester's choir.

Anyhow. The real reason I'm writing this entry is to hash out a bit of a dilemma.

We were assigned a song entitled "Turn Back O Man" a week or so ago. The melody is "The Old 124th Psalm, from the Genevan Psalter arranged by Gustav Holst." It is a quite glorious hymn tune. And I was most delighted, at first, to have a more optimistically-toned piece to sing. Because our big piece of the semester is Verdi's "Dies Irae" ("Day of Anger." Or "Day of Wrath." Or something like that). Which isn't exactly the most encouraging and positive piece in the world.

However, when one isn't really paying attention to the words of the Holtz piece (because one is singing solfege instead), it's apparently very easy to get distracted by phrases like "124th Psalm," "Geneva," "Gustav Holst," "forswear thy foolish ways," and "not till that hour shall God's whole work be done."

And completely miss the fact that the whole thing is some rather atrocious mishmash of gnostic?-romantic-transcendental gibberish. I here copy the whole thing for your perusal:

Turn back O Man, forswear they foolish ways.
Old now is Earth, and none may count her days,
Yet, Thou, her child, whose head is crowned with flame,
Still will not hear thine inner God proclaim,
"Turn back, O Man, forswear thy foolish ways!"

Earth might be fair and all men gland and wise.
Age after age their tragic empires rise,
Built while they dream, and in that dreaming weep.
Would but man wake from out his haunted sleep,
Earth might be fair and all men glad and wise.

Earth shall be fair, and all her people one.
Nor till that hour shall God's whole work be done.
Now, even now, once more from earth to sky
Peals forth in joy man's old undaunted cry,
"Earth shall be fair and all her folk be once!"

I have concluded two things:
1) I am irrationally possessive of hymn tunes. Although I'm well aware that (orthodox) Christian hymn writers often appropriated common and singable tunes for their own purposes, my reaction to this song is still, "HOW DARE THEY!??!!?"

2) I am not, at present, capable of being very charitable toward the transcendentalist-romantics. After the Dies Irae, I wanted something with MEAT to it. Not this happy smiling mishmash of saccharine idiocy. (<--- a notable example of uncharitableness)

I am having great difficulty finding ways to rationalize away the "inner god," "dream/wake," "undaunted man," stuff, and pretend that this sorry excuse for a hymn has at least SOMETHING to do with orthodox Christianity. Which means I'm going to be stuck, at best, wincing and attempting not to laugh as I sing this mess of a piece. (<--- a slightly milder bit of uncharitableness)

I think I can pull a bit of something together. My postmil/amil leanings probably help. But it's still very very hard to ignore the authorial intent of the lyrics.

I wonder if non-Christians in choir get as conflicted as this when they sing Christian songs.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

On Christians and Art (Again)

And I officially heart this article. For while he uses the word "conservative," he pretty much really means "Christian."

Ten Mistakes Conservatives Make in Art and Entertainment

The three best points being these:

1. Common Grace
Mistake #2: We don't quite understand common grace -- the idea that the good, the true, and the beautiful can be found in the most "unlikely" of places (Broadway) and people (liberal artists). Without a strong belief in common grace, we will either get angry at the culture or withdraw from it entirely.

2. Mystery and wonder
Mistake #7: We use the arts to save souls and sway elections. True artists enter their work with a sense of mystery, wonderment, always uncertain what may finally appear on the canvas or film or pages. Children’s author Madeleine L'Engle speaks of her surprise when a certain character appeared unexpectedly in the plot of the novel she was writing. She says, "I cannot imagine the book without [the character], and I know that it is a much better book because of him. But where he came from I cannot say. He was a sheer gift of grace." A sermon can be artful, and Lord knows campaign ads could use some imagination. Mixing art and agenda, however, is propaganda, whether it comes from the left or the right. If you want to send a message, Samuel Goldwyn rightly said, call Western Union.
Though I would caveat (or clarify) that any piece of art worth anything is going to have some sort of message to it. The point, I think, is more along the lines that we should go into art to show the glory, wonder, truth, mystery, and beauty of things...and whatever message comes out of that, so be it.

3. Un-safe Art
Mistake #10: We like safe art. Soggy may be a better term. Easy to digest. Nothing that causes heartburn. Do we really want art that never challenges our convictions, wrestles with our beliefs, or questions our faith? Let’s not forget: beauty is hardly safe, truth is never tame, goodness is anything but trite. Author Franky Schaeffer said it best : "The arts ask hard questions. Art incinerates polyester/velvet dreams of inner healing and cheap grace. Art hurts, slaps, and defines. Art is interested in truth: in bad words spoken by bad people, in good words spoken by good people, in sin and goodness, in life, sex, birth, color, texture, death, love, hate, nature, man, religion, music, God, fire, water, and air. Art tears down, builds up, and redefines. Art is uncomfortable." Finally, and most profoundly, he writes: "Good art (which, among other things, means truth-telling art) is good in itself, even when it is about bad things."

Sunday, February 05, 2006

The Evolution Question

Ok. Just so no one gets any wrong ideas about where I stand on anything, here goes:

I don't CARE about evolution. I haven't since 10th grade.

So whatever tentativeness I have about the subject is not due to the corrupting influence of an EVUL secular college or an EVUL Dr. Stevens. Blame Mr. Minish (my 10th/11th grade Bible teacher) if you want to blame anyone. Then blame C.S. Lewis.

I wouldn't be taking a Philosophy of Science class this semester in the first place if I knew I'd get uber-defensive at half the things discussed.

I don't think the truth and validity of Christianity depends upon literal 6-day creationism being true. I don't think evolution being true means that Christianity is false. I'm sorry -- I don't. And once that stopped being an issue, I found better things to worry about. There are more important hills to die on.

You can wham me upside the head with your 53-point comparative chart of how theistic evolution and Genesis 1 don't match. You can harangue me as much as you want about how the 4th commandment and the Adam-Christ comparisons in the New Testament demand that 6-day literal creationism be true. I don't buy it. (Or perhaps more accurately...I'm not persuaded enough by it to come down decisively on the matter). And here's my official below-the-belt comment about how heliocentrism didn't destroy Christianity, but merely incorrect interpretations. And my cheap shot about Augustine and his "Scripture shows us the way to the heavens, not the way the heavens run" deal.

I'm not a science major. I know next to nothing about how the whole evolution deal is supposed to technically work. I haven't looked at all of the experiments and tests and theorizing. When one doesn't know much about a subject, and doesn't have time to investigate it themselves, they tend to trust the leading authorities. Leading authorities say, "Yay evolution!" Be happy, (Christian) people -- I'm at least saying, "And they could possibly be wrong about a lot of this."

Precisely because I know virtually nothing about the science of this matter, and precisely because I'm not quite willing to go completely along whatever the leading authorities are currently saying, I'm not going say anything one way or the other about evolution. And a corollary: because I haven't conclusively decided one way or the other, I'm not going to use evolution or creationism as part of how I argue for a position. Don't look for me to, and don't ask me to.

If creationism vs. evolution ever becomes central to some very troubling issue I'm working through, and starts forcing me to take sides (whether I think it's possible or not)...maybe then I'll start hashing through lab reports. At the moment, however, it is nowhere near this level of importance.

However the universe and world were made,
a) God started it, at the very least.
b) Man is different and special -- "created in the image of God" in a way animals aren't.
c) There was a Fall. It screwed up people, and apparently screwed up creation up to some degree as well.

Don't ask me to come down hard on much beyond this. Things seem a lot more mushy once I start trying to construct anything beyond this core, and I've got better things to do worry about this particular mush. Again...I've picked my battles. Evolution vs. creationism isn't one of them.