[seven stanzas at easter]

RIP, John Updike. (1932-2009)

“Seven Stanzas at Easter”
by John Updike

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His Flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that—pierced—died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

More (and Moore) here.

HT: Justin Taylor

[book review: death by love]

Death by Love, Mark Driscoll and Gerry Breshears. Wheaton: Crossway, 2008.

Brutal. That’s the best word I can think of to describe this book. Pastor Mark Driscoll, of Mars Hill Church Seattle fame, is unsparing in his treatment of the death of Jesus, the wickedness of sin, and the power of the Gospel in Death by Love. The work is composed of several letters written to people Mark has met, counseled, and pastored, applying the truth of Christ’s multi-faceted work on the cross to life. Each chapter is capped off by an “Answers to Common Questions” section by Driscoll’s mentor and writing partner Gerry Breshears. The book does a good job of defining and giving Old Testament and New Testament background for Biblical and theological terms like “Christus Victor,” “propitiation,” “expiation,” “redemption,” and “Christus Exemplar.” It is refreshing in the way it combines theological depth and rigor with practical application: Theological concepts don’t float around in the air in this book. I was refreshed and challenged by the Pastor Mark’s intent on communicating the life-changing truth of the cross. Don’t expect to agree with everything in here. Driscoll’s positions are nuanced and likely to raise questions all around in matters like spiritual warfare, the extent of the atonement, and the relationship between Charismatic and Calvinist theology. Also, be forewarned that there is some rough content in here. Sin is dealt with in all its ugliness.

I learned a lot as I read the book throughout last semester. But mostly Death by Love dogged and hounded me, constantly whispering, “Look to the cross and live!” as I battled through sin and struggle. For that I am grateful.

Recommended.

[the bruised reed battles heaven // a sonnet]

“Draw the word of promise out of its scabbard, and use it with holy violence. Don’t think that God will be troubled by your importunately reminding Him of His promises. He loves to hear the loud outcries of needy souls.” -Charles Spurgeon

Great God of hosts, Whose
Raging wrath commands,
Compels unnumbered angel-armies,
Why do You make war on me,
Poor, pitiable wretch beset
By sin and weakness-wracked?

If You will war me, then
I’ll mount my prayers and strike
Resounding blows against
Your throne with weighty words
Of promise. Wait!  I have
From Your own hand

These weapons and this steed.
O break not this bruised reed.

[the library]

On the second floor of a college library,
Between the stacks of dated periodicals
And hopeless microfilm, a man
Flopped on the floor in the narrow aisle,
Bookbag half-open haphazardly leaning
Against the files, flips through fading
Gold-edged pages and wrestles with
The timeless Author of the Universe

[the power of words and the wonder of God]

Video from the Desiring God national conference this weekend is up here:

Conference Video :: Desiring God

I watched Sinclair Ferguson’s message on James this afternoon, and it was good stuff.

[making men with chests]

The following is an excerpt from my final paper in Art, Emotion, and Morality entitled “Fiction and Moral Education: Making Men With Chests”. The title is a reference to C.S. Lewis’ The Abolition of Man, a book I heartily recommend!

“When Socrates kicked poetry out of the Republic, he did it on the grounds that art, being a representation of the physical world which is itself a representation of the formal world, is two removes from the truth. Small wonder, then, that Homer is replete with errors about the gods and the afterlife. For anyone seeking to raise up a generation of ethically trained truth-seekers, education by fiction is, according to Socrates, counter-productive: These errors lead to the inculcation of false moral values like fear of death and doubt of the gods.

For those of us who reject Plato’s idealism, we may admit the possibility of stories that convey moral truth. But can such a story give us moral knowledge? Given that knowledge is justified true belief, it is not clear that fiction can provide epistemic justification except in special cases. As a Christian who accepts the divine inspiration of the Bible, I believe that Jesus’ parables can give moral knowledge. Their origin in God is justification for believing whatever ethical truth-claims are put forth or implied in the stories. But what about a novel like A Clockwork Orange, a short story like “Greenleaf” by Flannery O’Connor, or a movie like There Will Be Blood? Apart from divine inspiration, I am unsure that fictions can provide justification for believing the ethical content or accepting the ethical point of view represented therein.

But perhaps there is more to moral education than just the acquisition of moral knowledge. Perhaps the faculties we use to make moral choices based on such knowledge need development to be implemented effectively. After all, learning usually requires a transitional phase of training between the acquisition of theoretical knowledge and actual practice. For example, if you are teaching a student how to write critical essays for a standardized test, you will begin by teaching her the basic theory of literary criticism and essay writing. Then, you will have her hone her skills through writing practice essays. This practice will probably include reading and critiquing poor essays as well, so your student will know just what makes a bad essay bad. Only after this practice is she ready to put her theoretical knowledge, quite literally, to the test. Or one might think more readily of sport as an example. Coaches give their players theoretical knowledge of the skills required for their game. This knowledge is ingrained through drills, the repetition of correct actions until they become habit or ‘muscle memory’. The players supplement their drills with strength training, building up the muscle groups relevant to their sport through resistance. Thus trained, the players are ready to play an actual game where their actions count.

Just like writing a critical essay or making a rugby tackle, moral virtue must be learned through training if it is to be practiced in real life. This training includes both repetition, as in the practice essays and drills, and opposition, as in the bad essay critiques and strength training. Stories in the main may not provide knowledge to the head, but neither do they simply titillate the emotions of the gut. They work on what Plato called the ‘spirited element’, or what C.S. Lewis called, “The Chest—Magnanimity—Sentiment—these are the indispensable liaison officers between cerebral man and visceral man.” They can provide us with ethical training both through repetition and opposition. This position I call Virtue Training Theory.

“Repetition” in Virtue Training Theory means the process of positively rehearsing the patterns of right thought and emotion, or sentiments, necessary for good moral choice. This occurs when one reads (or watches, etc.) a work of fiction that manifests a true ethical attitude toward its content. It is important that it concerns the morality of the manifest attitude and not the content itself; reading a story that contains immoral content is still an exercise in repetition if the story calls a spade a spade. For example, reading A Clockwork Orange, though its anti-hero Alex perpetrates such immoral acts as rape and murder, is repetition because the immorality of his actions is implicitly acknowledged and even crucial to the novel’s exploration of the ethical dilemma of psychological conditioning and human free will.

“Opposition” in Virtue Training Theory means the process of negatively rehearsing right sentiments through engaging with a work of fiction that manifests a false ethical attitude towards its contents. The film There Will Be Blood manifests an attitude of moral nihilism, through twists and turns of plot getting the audience to feel sympathy for its reprehensible main character and, in the final scene, take pleasure in a brutal murder. In the end we are left feeling that statements about morality do not really say anything because they certainly cannot make sense of the situation presented in the film. Opposition to this film entails understanding its ethical viewpoint, considering its discrepancy with the truth that some attitudes and actions are actually wrong, and internally repudiating it. Both processes, repetition and opposition, contribute to moral education by inculcating just sentiments. [I believe the ideal fictional component of an ethical education would progress from total repetition in grammar school, exposing students only to works with true ethical viewpoints, to an even balance of repetition and opposition by the end of high school.]

I believe Virtue Training Theory finds a place for fiction in ethical education without wrestling with the tricky epistemological problem of grounding our moral knowledge in fiction…”

Throughout the rest of the paper I contrast Virtue Training Theory with another contemporary theory and answer possible objections. If anyone’s interested in reading it, e-mail me and I’ll send you a copy!

[cambridge // a sonnet]

The young and lonely writer sits
In a Cambridge cafe quiet,
Sipping on a cool white wine
And of Mediterranean diet

Partaking. Grateful to have ’scaped
The storm that rumbles overhead
And pelts the ancient streets of brick
And pavement where the learned dead

Will roam when once the sun has sunk
Behind King’s College gate and chapel.
He will walk these darkened ways
And with the scholar-spirits grapple,

As Jacob with the angel of the Lord
For blessing wrestled fierce at Jabbok’s Ford.

[a little groothuis action]

Check out this cultural commentary by Dr. Doug Groothuis:

1. On the proliferation of the word “like” in our conversation.

2. On how to keep your mind alive.

3. On the contemporary trend of self-absorption in writing.

[uk update 2 // london, cambridge, edinburgh]

Hey guys! Well, this update is overdue, and I don’t have a ton of time, but I feel I should let you know what’s up with me…

Well, I arrived safely in London on the morning of Thursday, June 26. I spent the next few days being orientated by Arcadia University staff, getting to know 7 other peeps who applied for the Cambridge program through Arcadia, doing a crash course of Tube-riding London tourism (minding the gap, of course!), and catching a little Eric Clapton in Hyde Park for the Nelson Mandela birthday concert. I particularly enjoyed the architecture of Westminster Hall and Big Ben, and seeing Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey. I also snuck over to Elephant and Castle to Spurgeon’s Metropolitan Tabernacle, still faithfully proclaiming the Gospel in London. I even met a couple of people there who were on a church workday, improving the facilities!

Sunday saw us boarding a 1:15 train for Cambridge at King’s Cross station (watch out, Harry Potter fans!). When we arrived at King’s College, Cambridge, I was blown away: perfectly manicured grass with a copper-green fountain running in the middle, a striking Gothic chapel, and a lovely blue sky streaked with clouds made a very picturesque greeting for us indeed. Sunday night I caught the end of the Eurocup football (that’s soccer to us!) finals in a pub down the street, and then classes started on Monday. Monday night we had a fantastic formal dinner. Tuesday I spent the afternoon reading Titus Andronicus on the grass by the River Cam, and then trekked over to the Orchard Tea Room, a place frequented by such figures as Virginia Woolf, John Maynard Keynes, Bertrand Russell, and Ludwig Wittgenstein in the 1920s, for a pot of tea and a scone! Wednesday evening I enjoyed an Anglican choral service at the King’s Chapel, complete with blasting pipe organ.

Thursday saw about 200 of us head off to Edinburgh, Scotland for the weekend. Friday I hiked in the Trossachs, beautiful heather-covered hills over-looking Loch Lomond where my thieving, murderous, but dashing ancestor Rob Roy MacGregor used to roam. Friday night we had a 4th of July party in the University of Edinburgh debate hall, and Saturday I saw most of downtown Edinburgh, including John Knox’s house and the cathedral where he ignited the Scottish Reformation, the Scottish Parliament building, and Edinburgh Castle. Sunday we headed back to Cambridge, stopping on the way at the ruins of Fountains Abbey, a monastery built in the twelfth century.

Today saw classes resume in rainy Cambridge, and I spent the afternoon in the library and a coffee shop across the street reading Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Phiosophicus, a short but intriguing and important text of 20th century philosophy, in one sitting. The cool thing is, he was studying under Bertrand Russell at Cambridge when he wrote it!

My time in the UK has been fantastic so far, and praise the Lord for safe travel. My heart, however, has been a battleground where temptation, anxiety, and unbelief have raged. The Lord is faithful, though, and He has preserved me for His name’s sake. Praise Him for that! He is growing me by teaching me to trust Him more everyday, and not to lean on things like my emotional state, which ultimately can’t support the weight of my need. Only the cross of Christ can. I was unfaithful in the first few days with opportunities to share the gospel, but I have repented of that, and the Lord has graciously provided more. He has also started to grow friendships, including some with brothers and sisters who are on the program, and that has been invaluable. Here’s some specifics you can pray for:

-Protection from spiritual attack. That I would be strong in the Lord to go to war everyday in the fight for faith.

-For my friends Zach, Armando, Jane, and Keshia that I’ve gotten to have spiritual conversations with.

-That I would be sensitive to opportunities to speak the truth of the gospel and trust the Holy Spirit to give me words.

-For my friend Justin, a brother that I’ve gotten to spend some quality time with.

-For church this Sunday. I’m planning to go to Eden Baptist Church, a Reformed Baptist church in Cambridge. The past two Sundays I’ve not been able to attend church. Podcasted sermons are a great resource, but they can’t match the (comm)unity of the Body!

-For my Art, Emotion, and Morality test on Thursday…it’s coming so quickly!

-Pray that I would not just have conversations about the gospel, but get involved in people’s lives while I’m over here. (1 Thess. 2:8 )

Thank you for your prayers. Grace and peace to you; our God is good and faithful.

[again i've gone a-whoring]

Again I’ve gone a-whoring,
After Canaan’s gods of filth
And drunk the pleasant poison
Of the idol, subtle Self,
At whose altar I would fain
Have offered time and time again
My life had You not rescued me
Who quivered ‘neath the knife.

I have made the ministrations
Of this covenant of death
And heeded all the preaching
Of my Accuser to my flesh.
All drunk off condemnation
For sin I did not do, I am
My master, slave at once. Lord, let
My mind be chaste to all but You.

cf. this post: [c.s. lewis and beating myself up]

and Jeremiah 3

[common grace]

“Chaos is dull.” -Chesterton

I slept and slept in fevered dreams
Of unmoored ships and wandering travelers,
Fierce seas and tangled roads,
Nights too black and days too grey,
Blizzards overwhelmingly white,
And felt the fallenness deep in my soul
Like a crack in the foundation of Self
Life, a slumping construction, rests on.

I woke to find the World instead infuriating order,
Lying down in a dampened meadow.
I found that though it drizzled,
The sun shone through a little,
Laid my hand upon a compass and a map.
On map the roads in grid arrayed,
Like engineering paper,
Indicated bridges out and blockage of the way.

Corruption could not undo Order;
Though all the marching feet of Time
Had trampled it for unknown years,
It, scarred, held fast and true.
Against all Sin and indication
Of thermodynamic law,
A Hand unseen upholds the World,
Or else a Word unheard.

[poetic apologetic]

I’m taking American Lit, 1860-present this semester, and lately we’ve been covering modernist poetry. It’s some of my favorite stuff because it deeply investigates the culture in which it was written. But it’s also generally anti-Christian, written in the aftermath of WWI when people thought the old philosophies and religions just didn’t make sense of reality anymore. One of the most fascinating modernists is Wallace Stevens. He worked a steady job as an insurance man and wrote on the side. He was obsessed with the impossibility of objective truth and instead stressed the importance of belief in story. Crazy how much of that viewpoint has worked its way into the church. His work is exactly the kind of stuff Francis Schaeffer was aiming at with The God Who Is There. Anyway, here’s a brief quote, a poem by Stevens, and a poem I wrote in response.

“The final belief is to believe in a fiction, which you know to be a
fiction, there being nothing else. The exquisite truth is to know that
it is a fiction and that you believe in it willingly.”

The Snow Man

by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

Snow Man Redux 10.23.07

by Jonathan McGregor

A snowman melts in Texas’ mild January,
And Wallace Stevens is trying to destroy me.
Here are the briquettes that were his eyes,
Trickling away in dirty little rivers
On the brittle lawn
The broom is slumped,
The carrot haphazard,
The water returns to the earth.
A brief glance of sunlight shimmers on the slushy surface,
Inviting me to stoop and see
The faintest pink reflection of my curious face,
And I know that I exist.
His images of irritum are themselves brought to nothing
By inexorable turnings
Of the Word-ruled world.
I kick the crumbling corpse
And a lump of watery snow
Falls harmlessly to the ground.

*irritum = Latin for ‘nothingness’