On getting that Christian liberal arts major

Why I do it:

General revelation also has a certain value for the Christian religion. Not that it provides us with a religio naturalis, which is quite sufficient in itself and therefore renders all supernatural revelation superfluous. Such a natural religion does not exist, and is in fact impossible. Neither can it be said that the Christian derives his knowledge of God first of all from general revelation, and then supplements this with the knowledge of Christ. He derives his theological knowledge of God from special revelation only; this is his principium unicum. Yet there is a close relation between the two. Special revelation has incorporated, corrected, and interpreted general revelation. And now the Christian theologian takes his stand on the Word of God, and from that point of vantage also contemplates nature and history. He reads God's revelation with the eye of faith and in the light of God's Word, and for that very reason is able to see God's hand in nature, and His footsteps in history. He sees God in everything round about him, and is thereby lead to a proper appreciation of the world. Moreover, general revelation offers the Christian a basis, on which he can meet and argue with unbelievers. The light of the Logos that lighteth every man is also a bond that unites all men. The whole creation testifies with many voices that man is created in the image of God, and therefore cannot find rest except in God. Finally, it is also due to God's general revelation that His special revelation is not, as it were, suspended in the air, but touches the life of the world at every point. It maintains the connection between nature and grace, between the world and the kingdom of God, between the natural and the moral order, between creation and re-creation.

(Berkhof, Introductory Volume to Systematic Theology, in Systematic Theology, pp. 131-132.)

Roadtripping (part 1)

If thou be'st born to strange sights,
    Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
   Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou returnest, wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee.

John Donne

As if running around Europe weren't enough excitement for one year, I took the natural course of action and planned two back-to-back roadtrips a month after getting home. What can I say? I'm 1/4 Bohemian. Gypsies and stuff. Anyways.

Trip #1: Arizona.

Three of us from my church and the one who planted us drove out to Flagstaff for a Reformed Baptist young adult conference. Got to see Drs. Jim Renihan & James White speak, so it was pretty much Disneyland for theology nerds. Ironically, the highlight of the trip was reconnecting with my soulmate friend Savannah on the drive to and from AZ. We are basically the same person, and have lived an hour and a half away from each other this whole time. Even before it was over, I knew this was one of my favorite trips....ever. Got to meet 130 other young Reformed Baptists, saw the gorgeousness that is the Southwest, and talked theology almost the whole 24-hour drive. It does not get much better.

A big group of us caravaned out to the Grand Canyon and climbed
out onto this cliff. Being Reformed Baptists, we proceeded to have a hymn sing.

Awwww

Daniel third-wheeling it

Sunrise over the Grand Canyon

My mother failed to see the humor in this picture

Following up

So a few weeks ago, I presented a paper on Jane Austen's Emma being a story containing strong christological, redemptive undertones. That was fun. Basically, we like the story because we see reflected in Emma's flaws and eventual forgiveness the promise from Genesis 3 that God will redeem us from our sin. I didn't realize it at first, but it quickly became apparent that there is a lot more you could explore in this trope.

 

One of the things I noticed was how marriage is a kind of salvation in Jane Austen. Of course, there is the obvious sociological meaning, as marriage was women's only way of ensuring their future stability in life. But leaving it at that is narrow and boring. To interpret Austen in that way is to really miss what she stood for in the bigger picture. For her, marriage was a much more holistic institution: As she makes especially evident in Emma, the person you end up with will prove to make or break you. Most important for marriage in Austen is not its physical or material repercussions, but the consequences it has for your soul. Mr. Elton's choice in wife destroys what potential there was in him to be a sympathetic character; as a team, they are insufferable human beings. Emma and Knightley, on the other hand, become better people because they are together. Same goes for such couples as Elizabeth and Darcy, Marianne and Brandon, even Anne and Wentworth.

 

Several conclusions:

1. I usually go out of my way to avoid wandering anywhere near the tents of the feminist camp in literary criticism, but I must say, Jane Austen was undeniably ahead of her time. This is not a moral version of the damsel-in-distress situation, which modern romantics have made it to be. Her heroines are not languidly waiting around for a man to save them by fulfilling their emotional (and material) needs. Instead, in a successful marriage, both the husband and wife challenge and encourage one another in such a way as to "save" their spouse in a moral, almost spiritual way. Austen is telling her readers that both the heroines and heroes of her stories are vulnerable individuals who can either be redeemed or destroyed by the individuals they ultimately marry.
2. Typical of Austen, this kind of thinking flies in the face of the trendy empowerment individualism we see everywhere (interestingly, just as Austen did when Romanticism made individualism trendy). There is no flying solo in Austen. Although they may lose important family members or travel outside of their home environments, her characters are communal beings. Community stretches people, revealing their faults and offering opportunities to improve. Marriage for Austen "saves" individuals from their attempts at autonomy, which always fail: Emma, Lizzie, and Marianne each nearly sabotage their most important relationships when they become too confident in their own judgment. In contrast, Austen's successful marriages bring the husband and wife together into a partnership, where the strengths and weaknesses of each harmonize with those of the other.
3. To continue the redemption motif, these "salvific" marriages, where the husband and wife successfully learn how to help one another, also produce fruit: They help others. The happy couples in Austen are the ones who are usually instrumental in the lives of the heroines. The Gardners reunite Lizzie with Darcy. The Westons mentor Emma (albeit imperfectly) throughout the novel, tempering her premature judgments. In both of the Bath novels, Anne Eliot and Catherine Morland are introduced (or reintroduced) to their future husbands through the generosity of couples who have taken them under their wing. Going back to my previous point, marriage for Austen isn't even just for the happiness of the husband and wife involved; it's there to ultimately improve the world around them.

Just building on this...

Milwaukee

So I've been back in the States for 5 days. Feeling restless. Feeling the culture shock.

• Instead of walking the mile and a half to the grocery store, we drive it.
• I can't shake the sense that I'm a visitor in my home (but not because my family hasn't been welcoming).
• The oldest building around here was built in the mid-19th century.
• They drink the beer cold.
• You could fit a neighborhood inside Target.
• Almost everyone I know is a white, middle class American born on this continent.
• Everybody has so much stuff. America is unbelievably wealthy.
• My bedroom is larger than some of my British friends' living rooms.

Everything looks the same as it always was, yet completely different. Maybe as the months go by, I'll feel fully at home here again. But something tells me this is what long-term traveling does to you...you leave a part of yourself behind, and it's replaced with all the perspective, values, and relationships you picked up while you were away. You see everything (and everyone) with outside eyes. Still figuring out what to make of it. But I think it's good.

What makes me happy, though, is meeting up with my best friends. Some of us talked every day, and others, barely at all. But regardless of that, each reunion has been as if nothing has changed. Despite how bewildering it kind of is to be back, these people remind me why I'm committed to being here. Especially with church. Having met so many young Reformed people in the UK who feel called to build the church in their various home countries, it makes me appreciate my own American friends all the more. It's making me see that we are the future of the church here. I'm feeling the weight of our responsibility. Responsibility is good. Hard, overwhelming, dangerous, yes. But also a blessing from God. He is using us to build His church.

So as sad as I am to no longer be in the UK, I am satisfied in knowing that I am exactly where God wants me to be. Faith comes in where His will seems scary or lonely or difficult. It's always worth it.

Besides, living back in the States means I get to wake up and to see this every morning:

advinkdsvjkdsvhvhdsjkvndskjvdshhfdyfjsdvnsd I MISSED MY ROOM SOO MUCH.

Coming to an end

It seems like yesterday I was writing this post. Now, next week I'll be back home running around in Milwaukee. Where did the time go?


At the Roman Baths....in Bath

So far, 2015 has been very good to me. I've seen some of the most beautiful and important places in the world, lived in an amazing community of godly people, and most importantly, learned to trust God in ways I never understood before. Being here has felt like living in Palace Beautiful in Pilgrim's Progress. Coming over to England, I was most excited to see all the places I'd only come across in books. Leaving for America, I'm most reluctant to leave behind all the people I've come to love. All of the effort I've spent on getting into college, being accepted into the honors program, and studying abroad would still all be worth it if its only impact on my life was to bring me to the people here.


Wales is the most underrated country...ever

Being on your own in a country an ocean away from everybody you know for half a school year grows you up in a lot of ways you were blind to previously. And then running around a foreign continent where people don't always speak your language and you come close to being homeless several times grows you up even more. People my age always complain about how adulthood sucks, but being able to fend for yourself is one of the most satisfying things in life. I've learned that you need less than you think, there is nothing better than going to church with your best friends, and all those domestic skills my mom taught me are killer things to know.



Standing in the ruins of Coventry Cathedral

I can confidently say that the last four months have been the happiest of my life. I'm not ready to go back.

 

But God has other plans. He wants me to be a good steward of the blessings He has given me here and make a difference in my life back home. He has taught me to rely on Him in everything, down to where my next meal is coming from; it's getting me ready for what is going to be a year of a lot of uncertainty (including that wild safari of grad school applications). He's shown me both how important it is to have a new generation of strong leaders in the church, and also how awesome it is to meet fellow hip, radtacular young people who are defined by that enthusiasm.

I studied some pretty interesting church fathers and wrote a few papers, but here's the most relevant thing I've learned this semester: Money disappears, charm is shallow, and accomplishments are relative. The truly good life is the one spent for God's kingdom.

Wherever I end up, whether it's in Milwaukee or some far-away grad school, still writing here or something longer, teaching either my own or someone else's kids, I want to remember the words of Basil of Caesarea: "As long as we draw breath, we have the responsibility of leaving nothing undone for the edification of the churches of Christ."

Thank you, Cambridge.

Going to be offensive again

Why this trendy body image movement fails to grab my support:

"Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear—but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious." 

1 Peter 3:3-4

Several uncool reflections:

1. When your parents provide you with a godly upbringing, all of this talk about "accepting yourself the way you are" seems almost.....passé. Uh.......duh. I am a woman created in God's image, and I look exactly the way He intended me to be. I don't need a flip-floppy society deciding it's been wrong this whole time to tell me that I am a valuable human being. I found that one out when the Bible told me I am a daughter of God.
2. In the same vein, this is just another example of an obsession with outward appearance. If we are going to focus on how "every body type ought to be considered beautiful," we are setting an extremely shallow standard for what gives us worth. Outward beauty will always fade, and setting our stock in feeling fabulous and sexy and beautiful is just superficial. Christian women ought to be pursuing the inner beauty which never fades; this is the loveliness which lasts, because in adorning ourselves with good works, we are imitating (and, more importantly, pointing to) the unchanging beauty of God Himself.
3. Maybe this is a petty shot, but much of the rhetoric these advocates use reaches my ears sounding like a high-maintenance demand to "TELL ME I'M BEAUTIFUL, DARNIT!!!" It's like turning society into the mirror, mirror on the wall. Do women really want to resemble the stepmother from Snow White? Honestly, this has probably been the biggest reason I've found the movement unattractive. The tone seems completely antithetical to the "imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit." Don't underestimate the power of graciousness. If God considers it "very precious," it is good enough for me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll return to hiding in my bunker underneath Fifth Avenue.

Like everything else

N.D. Wilson:

"What is the best of all possible things? That which is infinite, always present and undecaying. That which is both many and one. That which is pure, ultimate, and yet humble. That which is spirit and yet personal. That which is just and yet merciful. Yawheh, God. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 

What is the best of all possible Art? That which reveals, captures, and communicates as many facets of that Being as is possible in a finite space." 

(Notes From the Tilt-a-Whirl, p. 108)

Further conclusions on sanctification

...expanding on posts from last fall, like this one.

 

Good works has been a perennially-volatile topic in all my run-ins with Lutheran friends. Do not bring up the third use of the law, because sparks start flying. Shots fired: We Calvinists are dangerously close to works-righteousness, and the Lutherans dance with antinomianism. Oh, it's fun. So, all in all, I've been considering the Reformed theology of sanctification a lot since I've been here.

 

In the midst of some random blogosphere reading, I came across a reference to Ephesians 2:10:

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

There it hit me. The reason good works are so important in the life of a Christian is even deeper than the conclusion I arrived at last fall. They are what we were created to do. When we sin, we are exhibiting pride, offending God, displaying our ungratefulness, and also simply doing something unnatural.

We need to devote ourselves to good works because in doing so, we are finally functioning in the capacity God intended us to behave. In this way, we glorify Him in His plan of creation. On a more selfish level, this is the only path to satisfaction and fulfilment in our lives.

When we downplay the third use of the law, we are jeopardizing our chance to realize this. This is why obedience to the law is beautiful: Not only does it glorify God, it also makes our lives better.

On being away from home

When our trip around Europe was winding down, I found myself missing Cambridge like I did Wisconsin when I first arrived here. That was an odd realization.  It's become mine. It's comfortable instead of being new or "foreign." I have relationships which have become strong enough to tie a part of myself here forever. In just three months, this place has become home. My friend Hilary has told me about this being a phenomenon that happens with her friends here. When I told her how much I missed church, she exclaimed, "You see? It's happening! A piece of your heart is in Cambridge now, and you'll leave it here when you go back home." Darnit.

Something I've learned, being away from my homeland:

I've always been in the position of hostess. I think I inherited this from my parents. They were constantly having people over for Bible studies, church parties, Superbowl shindigs, etc. In highschool, most of the times my friends and I would hang out, it would be at my place. When college came around, our house, being strategically-located 10 minutes from campus, became a revolving door of friends coming by to spend the night, have bonfires, jam sessions, movie nights, and even just sit at the kitchen table and get advice from my mom. And as the lone commuter in the group, I regularly gave people rides or made them cookies or provided the transportation to whatever place we wanted to visit together. As crazy as that would sometimes be, I loved it. Helping others in such a tangible way was always deeply satisfying.

Before this starts looking like a bragfest, let me say that I'm coming to think a good part of this was probably a control issue. I liked being in a stable enough position to give and not need to receive. It's nice to not feel like you're in somebody's debt.

But now, I'm the one who's receiving rides to places, appreciating the home-cooked meals of church friends, being reminded of my neediness day after day. It's very humbling. Having seen the other side of hospitality, I'm inspired by the examples set before me in my church here in Cambridge. It isn't easy to walk into an established church in a different country where you know nobody. But right away, people welcomed me, befriended me, and invited me into their homes. When I'm back in the States, I want to always remember that feeling when I see somebody new at church.

In the meantime, though, I'm seeing that my dependency on others here is a picture of my greater dependency on God. Just as I am in the position of accepting help from friends (rather than giving it), so am I completely needy of God's grace in every aspect of my life. He daily provides both my physical sustenance and perfects the good work He once began in me. On my own, I can't draw my own breath, and sure as heck can't beat to death the sin still plaguing me. But He does.

So rather than letting myself feel (proudly) uncomfortable in my current state of comparative helplessness, I want to see God's love through it instead. I think that's a big reason why Cambridge has become a second home so quickly - the people here have demonstrated, daily, the love of God toward one another.

That trip to Europe

Gosh, that was so dumb. So speaketh the much-older-feeling and wiser version of yours-truly. Spend nearly two weeks visiting a different city almost every day? Sounds great on paper. But then you have to actually do it.

I think these two photos from Paris accurately sum up the situation:

 

#1 -  The brave face we put on for FB: "OOH LOOK WE ARE IN PARIS IN THE RAIN AND ITS SO PRETTY AND ROMANTIC #BLESSED!!!!"

#2 - How we actually felt: "OH SWEET SWEET CAMBRIDGE, WITH YOUR MULTIPLE MEALS A DAY AND GENERALLY-NOT-RAINY-WEATHER, TAKE ME BACK!

 

Several things I've learned:

1. You never spend as little money as you anticipate.
2. You can plan as thoroughly as possible, but you cannot control the weather.
3. For the love of all things sane, don't pack sight-seeing excursions in like sardines. They need to breathe.

That said, we loved Europe. Not everyone gets to do this kind of thing, and we really did try to appreciate the opportunity to see everything. Europe is beautiful. I crossed several things off my bucket list. And when we did eat, the food was amazing. Some favorite memories:

 

Standing inside the art tunnel otherwise known as the Sistine Chapel with guards periodically bellowing out "NO PHOTO!"

 

On an unrelated note, the selfie camera on the iPhone is really interesting.

 

Sitting on top of the Areopagus facing the Acropolis, reading Acts 17. When Paul said "The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man," he was looking straight at the Parthenon.

 

Seeing the cross inside the Colosseum. That really struck me. Our Christian forefathers' minds would have been blown to see that.

 

 

Climbing Mt. Vesuvius. I've been wanting to do that since I was probably 11.

 

 

Accidentally finding Beatrice Portinari's tomb in Florence. The church in which it is located is also the site where Dante supposedly first met her. I felt like a pilgrim. At the foot of the tomb are flowers and a basket of letters from girls around the world written to Beatrice. Some describe their own love stories and others talk about Dante's love for her. My heart melted a little bit.

Joyfully Amor seemed to me to hold
my heart in his hand, and held in his arms
my lady wrapped in a cloth sleeping.
Then he woke her, and that burning heart
he fed to her reverently, she fearing,
afterwards he went not to be seen weeping.
(La Vita Nuova, III)

Just had to throw that in.

 

Geneva. Things got intense when I almost started crying inside Calvin's church.  This earns me Die Hard Calvinist status, right?

 

Also managed to photograph the entirety of the Reformation Wall. Yeah, I was a little over-zealous. Yolo.

 

I am not usually a coffee drinker, but I had the best "café amaretto" in Paris. Coffee, amaretto syrup, whipped cream, and slivered almonds. I will probably have dreams about this in the future.

 

 

Good times, good times. The rainy memories are already fading.