Iriem

I admit I've never liked the spring before. I can't say exactly why, though there are certain images associated with that word -- wet and heavy days, full of mud and sickly yellow-green shoots and humid gray skies. Maybe there's some brighter days in the mix -- but those aren't much better. For one reason or another, I've always dreaded the approach of that season. And the sickly gushing joy that everyone seems to derive from it.

So am I recanting my heresy? No. Not a bit. I still detest that obsession with "rebirth" and "renewal" and whatever other cockamamie things people say (as they put on their sunhats and start planting bulbs in muddy gardens). Whatever this is up in Michigan now, I don't know. But it's not "spring." To associate it what that word is an abuse of any aesthetic principle.

So I'm going to call it "Iriem." Or "Tavel" or "Ardel" or something else; I haven't exactly decided yet. But not "spring."

Iriem is the Indian Summer of the early months. Not in the fact that it's "warm," per se. But more in the fact that it is sudden, unexpected, and absolutely beautiful. If Indian Summer is a breathtakingly warm bit of summer in the fall, Iriem is a breathtakingly cool bit of summer in the spring.

It comes on you wholly unexpectedly. Maybe one day of transition, maybe even not that much. One day you're huddling off to classes in your hooded coat, trying to stay out of the icy mix of snow and rain. Two days later you are sunbathing on the lawn in form of your dorm. After the 3rd and 4th day and 5th days, you realize this isn't some freakish March week. It's here to stay.

Every moment of Iriem is heightened and beautiful. Evening and morning are cool (though not chilled). The sun is warm. Midday is almost hot. Perhaps it's the rapid heights and valleys of temperature that throw everything into such sharp relief. The wind. The prickling grass. The brilliant sun. The bark of the trees. Conversations flitting across the quad.

I never feel that I have to be outside on these days. I've still the winter habit and inclination of holing up inside. But once I go out, I can't come back in. A breeze hits me. I'll realize the sun's there, and I'll see groups of students flopped on the grass around the quad. Or it will be evening, and I'll stumble into an unnaturally light and bright grey night.

It's not exactly "overwhelming" or "overpowering." It's more silent than that. But there's a feel of something heightened, something beautiful in it that catches the senses. It's causing me, at least, who usually rushes frantically from class to class, to stop and linger a moment. To take in the yellow of a leaf, or the shadow of a telephone pole, or the bare twigs of a tree. And seeing them, to be able to do nothing but throw my head back, and say, "Dear God -- to live in a world where such things are possible."

Calvinism

My roommate asked me the other day if I were a Calvinist. I hedged my answer, and came away sounding quite bad (or at least a bit incoherent), saying something along the lines of "Well...it's the tradition I was raised in...I'm OK with it...I guess you could say I'm a Calvinist..."

There were a lot of steps missing from that answer. The following is an attempt to hash them out.

1) priorities, limited time, and other present concerns
There's a lot of things to worry about and figure out in the realm of Christian doctrine, not to mention in life in general. There's only so much you can worry about and focus on at the one time. And, at the moment, Calvinism isn't that high a priority on my list. The truth of Christianity in general was a bit more of a preoccupation for some time. Right now I'm rather busy trying to figure out the nature and purpose of the church and its relation to the "world" (whatever that is). And the answer to the whole "what must one do to be saved" deal (which REALLY isn't as simple as it looks, once you get into Catholicism and Protestantism and "those who have never heard"). And what exactly Christ's death accomplished (just a payment? Or is there a reshaping of the entire cosmos going on, too?)

These things, admittedly, do touch upon the Calvinism/Arminianism/sovereignty/free will debate at times. So I do end up doing some thinking about them. Eventually, I think, I'll have to hit the issue head on. But right now, it's "out of focus," in the background, overshadowed and influenced by other concerns.

2) agnosticism, necessary assumptions, and moving forward
I don't know with any confidence that Calvinism is right. I haven't examined the issue for several years. I suppose I could just say "I don't know" or "I'm a weak agnostic on that issue." But, as I'm hammering through some of these other questions, I've found it necessary to have some base view of salvation to refer to and amend.

Maybe some people can manage to live in a constant agnosticism, floating in a murky grey fog until they've thoroughly examined and solidified an issue, then moving on to the next one. Gradually getting the fog to coalesce and clear, one area at a time. After about five years of pretty much living like that, I know that I can't in most cases. It's hard enough murking up one area at a time and resolidifying it.

So, needing some background view, I'll find something possible and viable, amend it when necessary, and toss it out the window and try again if the amendments start turning into epicycles. (At least that's how it should work in theory...)

3) viability and conservatism
It's possible to prove Calvinism from Scripture. And it's got some solid church tradition behind it. It's not some totally wacko cultish doctrine. I don't know if it's right -- but it's a workable, pretty coherent way of understanding difficult passages of scripture. As are more Arminian-leaning views, too.

But, as I was raised a Calvinist and not a semi-Pelagian, I use Calvinism as my base view. I don't usually change my views for no reason other than changing them. Since Calvinism is still viable, and since I'm not interested, at the moment, in deliberately examining (and changing if necessary) this particular inherited view, I'll shrug and stick with Calvinism for now.

That's basically what I mean by "it's the tradition I was raised in." If it's still workable, and if it's not too important at the moment, why not stick with it for now?

So far, I've found no earth-shattering reason to abandon Calvinism. It works, it's possible, it's what I'm familiar with, I have to choose something, so huzzah for Calvinism. Until it turns out that it or an amended version of it doesn't fit reality. Which is a very possible outcome. There are some things that are giving me pause, and time will tell whether an amending of my understanding of Calvinism will suffice, or whether it's so flawed a system that I do need to wipe the board clean and start over with a fundamentally Arminian-leaning view.

Hillsdale Slogans

Jason's Hillsdale slogans are sheer genius. What more can you say to stuff like this?

Hillsdale College: More Eagles Per Capita Than Anywhere Else
Hillsdale College: Where the 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' Policy Applies to Democrats
Hillsdale College: Where Everybody Knows Your Name...And Last 4 Boyfriend
Hillsdale College: The Administration Knows What You Did Last Summer
Hillsdale College: Training Minds for the Libertarian Agenda since 1844
Hillsdale College: We Can Speak More Dead Languages Than You Can
Hillsdale College: Where the 'Bring Back The Byzantine Empire Club' Actually has a Member
Hillsdale College: Where Your Best Hasn't Been Good Enough Since 1844

Regimes

And another not-so-serious discursion:

According to Dr. Morrisey, a regime consists of three elements:
1. the politea – the structure of its government
2. the politeuma – the people in charge of it
3. the ethos – its citizens' habits of life and mind

He's apparently even written a book on it. And it's all fine and good, until you procrastinate and stay up all night writing an essay test about the ethos and politea of the United States people and their Constitution. Upon completion of which, all you can really think of is something like the following.

1. the politea – a properly British midday snack of hot beverages and sweet biscuits
2. the politeuma – a courteous girl with an unusual name
3. the ethos – a devoured stallion

The Semi-Pelagian Narrower Catechism

As a high church Protestant with a strong Calvinist upbringing and highly ecumenical leanings (how's that for a mouthful?), I found this parodical chatechism unduly hilarious.

Read the whole thing here: The Semi-Pelagian Narrower Catechism

Some personal favorites from the questions:

1. Q: What is the chief end of each individual Christian?
A: Each individual Christian's chief end is to get saved. This is the first and great commandment.

4. Q: At what time must thou perform this work?
A: I must perform this work at such time as I have reached the Age of Accountability.

5. Q: At what time wilt thou have reached this Age?
A: That is a trick question. In order to determine this time, my mind must needs be sharper than any two-edged sword, able to pierce even to the division of bone and marrow; for, alas, the Age of Accountability is different for each individual, and is thus unknowable.

9. Q: What is the assurance of thy salvation?
A: The assurance of thy salvation is, that I know the date on which I prayed the Sinner's Prayer, and have duly written this date on an official Decision card.

15. Q: What witness aid hath been given us as a technique by which we may win souls?
A: The tract known commonly as the Four Spiritual Laws, is the chief aid whereby we may win souls.

17. Q: What supplementary technique is given by which we may win souls?
A: The technique of giving our own Personal Testimony, in the which we must always be ready to give an answer concerning the years we spent in vanity and pride, and the wretched vices in which we wallowed all our lives untilthe day we got saved.

19. Q: What are the means given whereby we may save large crowds of souls in a spectacular manner?
A: Such a spectacle is accomplished by means of well-publicized Crusades and Revivals which (in order that none may be loath to attend) are best conducted anywhere else but in a Church.

20. Q: Am I a soldier of the Cross?
A: I am a soldier of the Cross if I join Campus Crusade, Boys' Brigade, the Salvation Army, or the Wheaton Crusaders; of if I put on the helmet of Dispensationalism, the breastplate of Pietism, the shield of Tribulationism, and the sword of Zionism, having my feet shod with the gospel of Arminianism.

25. Q: What doth the Lord's Prayer teach us?
A: The Lord's Prayer teacheth us that we must never memorize a prayer, or use one that hath been written down.

28. Q: Who is on the Lord's side?
A: He who doth support whatsoever is done by the nation of Israel, and who doth renounce the world, the flesh, and the Catholic Church.

29. Q: What are the seven deadly sins?
A: The seven deadly sins are smoking, drinking, dancing, card-playing, movie-going, baptizing babies, and having any creed but Christ.

30. Q: What is a sacrament?
A: A sacrament is an insidious invention devised by the Catholic Church whereby men are drawn into idolatry.

31. Q: What is the Lord's Supper?
A: The Lord's Supper is a dispensing of saltines and grape juice, in the which we remember Christ's command to pretend that they are His body and blood.

32. Q: What is baptism?
A: Baptism is the act whereby, by the performance of something that seems quite silly in front of everyone, I prove that I really, really mean it.

34. Q: What is the office of the keys?
A: The office of the keys is that office held by the custodian. [My personal favorite, although #37 gives it a run for its money].

37. Q: How long hath the Holy Spirit been at work?
A: The Holy Spirit hath been at work for more than a century: expressly, since the nineteenth-century Revitalization brought about by traveling Evangelists carrying tents across America.

Collegian Article on Hillsdale Politics

Finally located the article from our college newspaper that addressed similar concerns about Hillsdale (factional interests, inordinate political focus, etc.)

Gala Inaccurately Portrays Hillsdale

A Modified Rant on CCAs ("We're Schizophrenic in Multiple Directions up Here!")

I'm keeping the last entry up, mostly because I want to keep a record of my thinking (however reactionary) at that particular moment. But this is my slightly more reasoned analysis of the issue.

First off -- this is mostly an ideological objection to the current status of the CCAs. I've only attended two actual lectures, so I can't speak from personal experience to any great extent. I'm hoping Medved and Decatur are not representative of the general tenor of CCA lectures, but I'm not exactly encouraged.

Second -- before my fellow students crucify me for complaining -- yes, I chose to come to this college, knowing its political stance, and knowing, for the most part, what I was getting into. But in choosing to come here, one cannot assume that I was happily accepting every principle and philosophy of this institution. Hillsdale College is...unique, to say the least. Composed of a schizophrenic hodgepodge of ideals and visions. I've run into the "enculturator of conservative thought" ideal, the "broad, liberally-oriented education" ideal, the "good business school" ideal, and the "good general education" ideal. We have our mission statement, of course -- and we have radically different ideas about which implications and phrases of it are the most important.

I'm not sure what to call these conflicting visions. Facets? Factions? I'm leaning toward the less amicable term "faction," mainly because there exist active attempts by various individuals to shape Hillsdale toward their particular vision.

And I'm not saying that such action is a bad thing. I'm perfectly willing to grant the political and the business people the right to shape Hillsdale's mission in the direction they prefer. Provided I'm also extended the same right to shape Hillsdale toward the quite different ideals that attracted me.

Now -- CCAs. Their trouble is that they end up being a crux point of controversy in this issue. In themselves, CCAs are not intolerable. Just 2-3 hours of extra lectures per day, and a paper due at the end. But the extra work is really not the point. The point is their philosophical and symbolic significance. Drawing a rather provocative analogy, it's rather like the British tax on tea in the 1760s. A tax that was 1/16 of a cent (more or less) was nothing worth fighting a war over. But they ideas that lay behind it sure were.

In a somewhat similar matter, CCAs represent to a sector of students much more that a week of required lectures, a paper, and usually a good bit of political propagandizing. They represent an attempt to impose a specific vision of Hillsdale on Hillsdale. (Namely, the "political thinktank" vision). This, I believe, is also why there was such a hullabaloo over the "Constitution Class" becoming a part of the core curriculum.

Again, I'm not saying this is a bad thing. Some vision is going to end up being imposed. Whether it's political or business of liberal arts or "why can't we all just get along." However, I can still be a bit upset about the current direction things are going. I can still try to change it. And I can still try to make the vision that I came to Hillsdale for a bit more prominent.

In regard to a final solution to the CCA dilemma...I'd suggest that the administration make them voluntary. In my perfect world, they wouldn't exist at all, or they'd actually be lecture series, and not a series of political diatribes (the CS Lewis and Tolkien one next semester looks promising in this regard). But CCAs (and their political bent) are going to keep existing as long as the "enculturator of conservative thought" and "political thinktank" visions exist here at Hillsdale. Lots of students come here for those reasons and visions. So keep the CCAs. Let any kid who wants to attend them and take them for credit do so. But let us people who could care less about politics ignore them.

A Rant on CCAs

I'm agreeing with the generally negative student opinion concerning the "Center for Constructive Alternatives." Admittedly, I've only attended two lectures -- but at the rate they're going, I really don't care to give them the benefit of the doubt anymore.

Non CCA lectures have only disappointed me once or twice (ala the "Deconstructionism" talk given a week or so ago, which was a mile wide and an inch deep). But CCAs seem to be a consistent intellectual disgrace. No sense of nuance, no sense of subtlety, and no depth. Just people getting on their soapboxes, and repeating their nice sound-bite arguments for the 103rd time.

Sound bites, however much I dislike them, have a semi-acceptable place in political positioning and posturing. But for God's sake PLEASE don't bring them into what is supposed to be an institution of higher learning.

I'm willing to tolerate the existence of the CCAs. We apparently need them to keep the donors happy. And I'm glad for my scholarship, given, evidently, by such a donor. But I'd appreciate it if they kept the political part of this college somewhat separate from the educational part of it. Most students, I would think, come here for a liberal arts education. That's what a college -- at least this one -- is for. But as CCAs are mostly shallowly political, not liberally educational, I do not understand why students are required to attend them. Sure. We have a good number of adamant College Republicans here. Let them attend if they want to. But don't make the rest of us sit through these second-rate speeches.

People wonder why students look so zoned out and bored and uninterested? I've several theories.

1. A number of students are like this about any lecture.
   
2. CCAs are somewhat compulsory, and we intoxicated-with-freedom college kids do not like having our choices limited, regardless of whether the compulsory thing is good or not.
   
3. For me personally, it's because I've heard 1000 times better stuff in CLASSROOM lectures. Dr. Birzer's talk on prudential vs. ideological politics, Dr. Kalthoff's presentation of the definition of "liberty" as understood in various American colonies, Dr. Westblade's lesson on "Why the God-man." All with great depth, breadth, and an underlying understanding of multiple positions. And an openness to discussion about the topics brought up.

So when Medved goes and says, "People oppose the war in Iraq because they hate Bush," or the CCA essay topic is something like, "Is gay marriage harmful to the family? How can the traditional idea of the family be preserved?" is it any wonder students zone out, grimace, and bang their heads against the walls? This isn't the college we've come to expect.