Art, Beauty, and the Indescribable

I wrote this as a response to a post by Joel. I thought it was worthy of its own post:

You’ve hit on some of the ideas I have art in general (music, fiction, poetry, visual arts, etc.). There is something about a good story, painting, song or musical composition that is simply indescribable. Critics can analyze the living daylights out of it, and their conclusions might be completely accurate. But if it is a truly remarkable work of art, there will always be something more. Something beyond words.

I think the experience of art is a very spiritual thing. Robert Olen Butler, with whom I took a creative writing workshop, used the word “yearning.” To a more atheistic mind this might be understood as subconscious (another understanding of the nature of the same phenomenon). The best way I know to describe it is “spiritual resonance,” a deep, sometimes overwhelming familiarity we do not and probably will not ever understand.

The word “beauty” is also applicable. In my experience, “beauty” is not necessarily pleasant, happy, or uplifting. Ernest Hemingway’s best stories are not usually happy or pleasant, but they are always beautiful. Or think of a good blues song: “My baby done left me…” Blues singers have some of the roughest voices, but there is such passion that it doesn’t matter. It’s beautiful. Again, not pleasant. Not happy. But beautiful. The outpouring of a soul chock full of pain, anxiety, and worry.

For me, the act of worship is very similar but intensified and usually coupled with a feeling of happiness or joy rather than the deep sadness that usually accompanies some of the best novels I’ve read or a good John Lee Hooker song (“There’s a red house over yonder; that’s where my baby stay”).

Beneath It All

I can feel it.
A rumble beneath it all.
Hidden but somehow understood.
It pulls me. Draws me.
A tightening of the lungs.
A clenching of the throat.
The eyes beginning to water.
It calls to me.
But I have no words to answer.

Am I dreaming?
Have I always dreamed?
Are we anything but dreams?

Is it God
who calls me?

Yes.

Faith, Proof, and Certainty

Faith. One of those words charged with meaning. A concept which I have been turning over and over in my mind recently. This will not be easily said in few words, but I will do my best. I begin with that age-old question so often posed to any person of faith: How can you believe in what you cannot see?

While I am surely not the first to make this suggestion, my response is simply this: How can you believe in what you can see?

One with a critical would see that even in academic circles, which rely so heavily on logic and reason, there is constant debate. One scholar argues, for example, that based on his research he has come to a certain conclusion, while his college, considering other evidence (or perhaps even the same evidence), has come to a very different conclusion. Neither is less intelligent than the other and both ideas could be equally sound in logic. This pattern extends far beyond academic study. We do not live in a world of black and white. For every theory, there is a possible alternative.

There is no proof. There is only evidence.

“Well, Arthur, this seems to be a rather bleak outlook on things,” says the reader, “If I can’t be sure of anything, is life worth living? Is the sky really blue and the grass green or is this just a figment of my imagination? More importantly, how do I know my next meal won’t kill me? But maybe death won’t be so bad. But, then again, maybe it will. Is everything I know a lie? Where’s Morpheus?! I WANT THE RED PILL!”

Well, reader, take a deep breath. Calm down, and think twice before following any white rabbits. I spent a few years in such a frame of mind. Doubting . . . everything! I never felt a part of my own life. Everything seemed somehow distant, unreal (in fact, I’m still trying to shake this). How strange to doubt the only thing you know! I had lived through twenty years of sensual experiences—sights, sounds, tastes, smells, feelings, emotions, desires, decisions, goals, failures, even faint bursts of the recognition of beauty and love—and all I could do was doubt. Are we simply ungrateful, or do we perceive deep down that there is something more, something worthwhile, something true, beyond what we experience in this physical world?

“Is there such a thing as certainty?”

There is faith. And, in a world without proof, I believe that faith is the only certainty.

“And what is faith?”

At church a couple weeks ago, Pastor Ron Miller presented a great illustration. Chances are that you are sitting on a chair at the moment (unless you are in the habit of using a computer standing). Before sitting on that chair did you first consider the quality of the chair? Did you wonder if there was any chance that the chair would fall apart beneath your weight? Did you call the manufacturer and ask for documentation ensuring the stability of said chair? Did you ask a friend a few pounds heavier than you to sit in the chair first? If so, I think you might be suffering from hypochondria.

More than likely, you plopped yourself down in that chair without a second thought. Whether you realized it or not, this was an act of faith.

No one goes through life without at least a little faith in something. It takes a great deal of faith to believe that all of our experiences are the result of a series of meaningless coincidences. Even the atheist is a person of faith. I would argue that the hard agnostic comes closest to a life without faith. The agnostic recognizes the lack of any definitive proof, but to avoid severe depression must approach life with a great deal of cynicism and emotional detachment, or so it was with me. But even this requires a small degree of faith.

Should we, therefore, throw logic and reason out the window? Absolutely not. I repeat, there is no proof, but there is evidence.

Evidence is hope.

I believe, that is I take it on faith, that God gave mankind a capacity for reason, for a reason. Some have argued that the ability to analyze is what makes us human, hence, homo sapiens, wise man, rational man.

I have placed my faith in Christ. The foundation of my faith is the gospel–that God sent Jesus to live as a man (fulfilling the prophets, teaching, healing, setting a perfect example), to suffer and die (taking on the full weight of humanity’s iniquities, becoming sin itself, death itself, that undeserving people might have redemption), and to rise again (overcoming death for our sakes, that we might live abundantly). I make it my mission to learn the principles Jesus laid out in his teachings and strive to live accordingly, accepting his words in faith, but questioning them that I might understand them and live them out more effectively. On the foundation of the gospel I place the commandments, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all you soul and with all your mind,” and, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Such things are essential and I will not compromise them for anything. All other aspects of theology are to be taken one at a time, arguments are to be considered, prayers to be prayed, scriptures to be read and analyzed. What I don’t yet know, what I have yet to consider, I commit to faith. I may hold a belief and later, upon further consideration, amend it, reshape it, or throw it out all together; this is part of the process, and it is a beautiful thing. It’s a messy process and it will not always be fun, but what else do I have?

I have come to understand God as infinitely mysterious; we could spend a lifetime (even multiple lifetimes) learning more and more about God, and we would hardly scratch the surface. It’s humbling. We needn’t even consider God to recognize that the wealth of knowledge in this world alone (which I imagine to be finite) is mindbogglingly enormous. In better words:

I only know that I know nothing.
[Attributed to Socrates]

In various dialogues about Socrates, Plato recognizes that in order to consider ourselves wise, we must first admit that we understand very little, that we do not and will not have it all figured out. And so it is with God:

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.
[Proverbs 1:7 NIV]

I strive after an unreachable goal. But that is the beauty of it! How sad to spend the better part of lifetime pushing forward toward some finite goal! If I live my life for an early retirement, what do I live for after retirement? How much better set one small goal at a time, knowing that after every achievement, every failure, there is still more to be gained, forever and always, to infinity and beyond! Sorry, I got carried away.

I leave you with some food for thought:

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where their are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
[1 Corinthians 13:8-13 NIV]

I don’t claim to understand this passage very well, but I think that might be the point. Nevertheless these words excite me, they resonate somewhere deep in my spirit, they frighten me and inspire me all at once. This is my journey: to know God, to serve God, to love God, and, in everything, to glorify God.

Amen.

High Time

Well, I think its about time to get this blog train rolling again. I was very excited to get this thing stated last summer and its not the excitement that diminished but the free time. So far I have aimed for the deeply profound in my posts but I must humbly admit that I am not capable of regular genius, only short bursts of it whenever the Lord sees it fit. So, while I hope to produce a few pleasant ramblings on the vastness of the universe from time to time, you can expect a fun anecdote, an essay about on life and times of Arthur Graves, a fun quote from a famous person, a knock-knock joke, maybe a short piece of fiction,…the possibilities are endless. You may even be graced with a feeble attempt at poetry here an there, but don’t get your hopes up.

For the time being, I have another of the vastness-of-the-universe type in the works, more or less. Its a topic I have had on my mind for a while and I thought it would be helpful to gather my thoughts in writing. You can expect that by the end of the week; Sunday at the latest.

God bless!

Moving

This seems to have been the theme of my life over the last few weeks. Not only did my roommate and I move out the apartment we’ve been sharing for two years, but many of my friends here at FSU are either moving away or from one apartment to another, and the University Career Center—where I have been working as a student assistant for the last two years—is moving to a new building on campus. Earlier this summer, I even helped one of my campus pastors move twice over the course of just a few weeks.

At work, I have been sifting through files, consolidating, throwing out, and packing into boxes. Similarly, I have been consolidating the possessions I have accumulated over the last two years, getting rid of clothes I don’t wear anymore, throwing out old folders full of homework I hadn’t bothered to get rid of, and trying to fit everything I own into as little space as I can. On this point, I am rather proud of myself. I can actually fit the entirety of my worldly possessions, stacked neatly, into about a three foot by three foot space (give or take). This is very convenient since I have been staying on a friend’s couch/floor, for about a week, along with two other guys in a similar situation. Two things I’ve have resulted from this the process

First, I have had a heightened organizational mindset. I didn’t think I was the least bit stressed until a couple of days ago when randomly, as I was running late to class, I felt my eyes begin to water and my throat to burn. I was able to choke it down long enough to get through class but afterwards, I had to find a vacant hallway on campus to let it out. At first I was even sure why I was crying but I realized the lack of sleep and privacy that has come with my current living situation was getting to me.

Second, God has been teaching me a lesson about love. While I have been attending Every Nation Campus Ministries for nearly as long as I have been at FSU, I have only begun to seriously dedicate myself to the ministry for the last couple of semesters. Sitting in a room praying for one of my friends who will soon be moving away from Tallahassee, I was struck by a sense of compassion for her. The realization that what happens to her is of deep personal concern to me. The crazy thing is that I don’t even feel like I’ve gotten to know her that well. I believe that God was showing me just a taste of the way he feels for her. And further, the way he feels for all of us. What we do, what happens to us, our pain, our joy—all of this has weight in the heart of God, the creator of all the universe. How wild is that? [Psalm 8]

I have been thinking about this ever since. With so many people coming and going and moving from place to place, it is not an easy thing to think about. My faithful roommate for the last three years will no longer be rooming with me. Friends in the ministry who I feel I am just beginning to get to know have graduated and are moving away. But, more than ever before, I feel as though I am part of a family here in Tallahassee.

And so, I say to those leaving, I love you deeply. I care about where you go in life. I take it personally. Thank you for being who you are and who God is making you. To those who are remaining, praise God for the coming year. Let’s dig deep together into whatever God has for us, and grow closer together as brothers and sisters—so close it hurts.

Amen?

Honesty

How many lies have you told today? I don’t mean blatant lies, like, “No, mom, I didn’t wreck your car; it was pumelled by elephants that escaped from the zoo.” Granted these sorts of lies are bad, but they are very obviously so, not to mention foolish.

How about more subtle lie? For example, what did you say to your good friend today when she asked how you were? “I’m fine.” “Great.” “Couldn’t be better.” Is that the truth?

Even worse, have you lied to yourself today? No, I’m not angry at my mother for the divorce. Its no big deal. No, I’m not upset after my father died. I can handle it myself. Chances are, these sorts of lies are at the heart of the lie you told your friend. These sorts are likely the cause of many, if not most, of the problems we have.

The essayist and novelist James Baldwin writes:

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, that they will forced to deal with pain.
[Notes of a Native Son]

What is hatred, if not a lie we use to justify ourselves. Hatred is rooted in fear. We are stuck in depression, in bitterness and anger, because we will not be honest with ourselves. We will not admit that we cannot function on our own.

So, I admit, I’m not fine. I have chosen to seek after God, to model my life after the life of Christ, but sometimes—usually it seems unfruitful, worthless, even foolish. I get frustrated when I don’t get immediate results. If I’m going to work for something I want to see the results as I work not sometime later. Sometimes—most of the time, I don’t even feel like waking up in the morning. Nothing seems worth the effort. I don’t want to have to deal with pain. I’d rather sit where I am, plug in a good video game or turn on the television and live through imagined worlds. That is easier and I don’t want difficulty. But at the same time, I have this itching inside that I just want to ignore but its always there. And I know that I have to do something about it, but I’m afraid it might hurt or I might fail. Its like there are two, separate desires in me, pulling in opposite directions. I want to stay right where I am, comfortable and uncaring, and I want to get up, get out and help someone who is hurting. I want to change the world but I don’t think I have what it takes, so why should I bother? Everything inside of me wants to scream. It brings me to tears. I wish I were somewhere else. I wish I were someone else. Or even better, I wish I had never existed in the first place.

This is the battle that I fight every day. I know what is right but I can’t find it in me to do something about it. I try to ignore God. I know I can’t fight alone. I need help. My pride hates it, but I am weak and helpless without supernatural aid. I get angry when I pray and nothing seems to happen. But I know, somewhere inside, that there is a God. And I know that no matter how difficult it is, no matter how much it hurts, it would be worth the risk for even the slightest glimmer of hope. And that’s exactly what I have, a glimmer, a tiny ray that I frequently lose sight of.

This is the truth about how I feel. I have realized that it does me no good to pretend I am not in this fight. That I’m fine. All is not well.

A mechanic can’t fix a car without opening the hood and finding the problem. Ignoring the weird sputtering sound from your car doesn’t make it go away. If you keep driving it anyway your liable to end up stranded on a highway somewhere.

So, what will I do today? I will pray and worship God. And when I have done it I will keep doing it, even when it seems unfruitful. And I will acknowlege my mistakes, my bad attitudes, and I will work against them. I will say to God, “My heart is wrong; come and change it. I am broken; fix me.”

Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD”—and you forgave the guilt of my sin.
[Psalm 32:5 NIV]

Sincere: A Definition to Live By

It is with great anticipation that I begin this new endeavor, the weblog. I look forward to the opportunity to explore, in writing, my developing spirituality (see “My Heart”). As for this post, I would like to share a few things I have been thinking about lately.

I’m growing increasingly frustrated. I think modern culture, or at least modern American culture, could be best described with the word “fake.” We spend countless hours with our eyes fixed on an electronic screen, whether it is television, video games, the internet, or that snazzy iPhone which puts it all in your pocket—just in case you should feel the need to read through the Wikipedia article on Star Wars while waiting in line at Starbucks. By the way, yes, I recognize the irony of this complaint while I am myself staring at a computer screen. My point is this: in the presence of all these things, it becomes far too easy to lose touch. I can’t count the hours I used to spend playing “The Sims 2” on my PC, or how many episodes of “Law and Order” I have watched over the past few years. It’s a bit depressing.

We have come to define ourselves by entertainment.

Look at a random profile on Facebook (sadly my profile proves the point I am about to make, so feel free to use it as example). What categories do you see under personal information? Which categories contain the longest lists? Do you see what I am getting at?

Well, frankly, I am tired of it.

In Second Corinthians, Paul and Timothy write to the church at Corinth to encourage them and inform them of the reasons he did not return to visit them after a trip to Macedonia. In the process, he ensures them of his devotion to them and to God:

Our conscience testifies that we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially in our relations with you, in the holiness and sincerity that are from God.
[2 Corinthians 1:12]

Now, it seems a small thing, but, as I was reading this chapter the other day, the word “sincerity” struck me. The word appears a couple more times in Paul’s letter [2 Corinthians 2:17 and 8:8]. I looked up the definition of the root word here:

sincere, a.
1. Not falsified or perverted in any way: a. Of doctrine, etc.: Genuine, pure. b. True, veracious; correct, exact. c. Morally uncorrupted, uncontaminated.
2. Pure, unmixed; free from any foreign element or ingredient: a. Of immaterial things. b. Of colours or substances. c. spec. Unadulterated; genuine. d. Free from hurt; uninjured. Obs. e. Devoid of something. rare.
3. Containing no element of dissimulation or deception; not feigned or pretended; real, true.
4. Characterized by the absence of all dissimulation or pretence; honest, straightforward: a. Of life, actions, etc. b. Of persons, their character, etc.
[Oxford English Dictionary]

How’s that for a definition? In particular, I find the third and fourth definitions interesting. “Containing no element of dissimulation or deception; not feigned or pretended; real, true”—that is something I aspire to.

Forget the American Dream.

If my lot in life is nothing more than a decent job, a nice house, and a good retirement plan—if the best I can do is coast through life in comfort—then let me die right now. I want to live my life sincerely, from the very center of who I am, in line with whatever purpose God created me for, “in the holiness and sincerity that are from God.”

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
[Philippians 4:8 NIV]

But where do I start? Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to turn off the television, the computer, the game console, or whatever, and take a walk every now and then, if only to think about what is important, what I sincerely want, and what God wants for me. Not just a breath of fresh air, but a breath from God.

And why not sit down and have a serious conversation with someone. Not about the weather or the how bad the FSU football team has been the last few years. Forget all that for a while and actually talk to someone.

I am not saying that movies, television, and sports are evil. Anyone with a discerning mind can draw important life lessons from a good movie or the hard work that goes into athletic competition. I just think we tend to overdo it.

Let me close this post with a piece of scripture which cannot be repeated enough:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.
[Matthew 22:37-40 NIV]

Sincerely…