On Psalm 63

A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah.

O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly;

My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You,

In a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary,

To see Your power and Your glory.

Because Your lovingkindness is better than life,

My lips will praise You.

So I will bless You as long as I live;

I will lift up my hands in Your name.

My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness,

And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips.

When I remember You on my bed,

I meditate on You in the night watches,

For You have been my help,

And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.

My soul clings to You;

Your right hand upholds me. 

(verses 1-8) 

Since this summer, I've been occasionally filling in to help teach Sunday School for the 6-7 year-old crowd at church. Right now, the class is going through a simplified version of Pilgrim's Progress. Initially, I looked at this experience as an opportunity to be servant-oriented and selfless and Reformed and aren't-I-a-nice-Christian-girl-helping-with-Sunday-School. However, I seem to have forgotten the reason we still read the book 350 years after it was written. Each time I've watched the kids take in the lesson from a particular passage, I get wrapped into it and God convicts me of how I am dealing with these very issues in my own life at the moment. I'm learning with the kiddos.

Yesterday, we went over Christian and Hopeful's escape from Vanity Fair and eventual stay in the Plain of Ease. It reminded me of my own experiences in the past year of my life, having gone through a particularly difficult autumn and my subsequent respite this spring. My life in these past twelve months has echoed this journey out of despair to joy. But, being a good Reformed Baptist and having read the story before, I know what the kids will be learning next week. I'm feeling the temptation that the pilgrims will presently encounter, to take the blessings of God for granted.

In contrast with 2014, where the difficult times chased one another by the heels, 2015 has been crammed full with blessings: My time in Europe was followed here by new friendships, provision and direction for the future, sweeter fellowship at church. I don't want to turn gifts which ought to point me back to God into things which distract me from Him. I'm beginning to understand just another facet of how responsibility accompanies blessing. When you feel like you're on top of this world, it takes discipline to pursue the things of the next one.

May my mouth continually offer "praises with joyful lips."

May my soul cling to God.

May I never forget His faithfulness to me.

On majoring in English

One of the occupational hazards of pursuing a liberal arts degree is mastering the PR work necessary to defend such an un-lucrative life choice. Fortunately, I thought ahead and decided to get two useless majors. That way, they can be buddies and entertain each other while I find an acceptable job. Or wait, isn't that what grad school is for?

Ah, but I jest. I mean, not the job-hunting part....that is all too painfully true. It's the charge that liberal arts degrees are useless that gets me a little unsettled. I could turn this post into a (classical) apology for my degree choices, pulling out all the arguments that I've been hoarding. These have been accumulating each time a misguided (please pray for them) friend makes the mistake of dismissing the liberal arts. I try to maintain an outwardly sanctified demeanor, but a battle wages inside my head: "BEWARE THE DAY I SMITE YOUR GAUCHE COMMENTS WITH MY MAJESTIC BLOG POSTS!!!" Ok, too much Beowulf lately.

Anyways, all of those reasons for my degree are valid and meaningful and good, and I wouldn't have needed to even be doing an English major to produce them. What I'm more interested in talking about right now is the consequence I didn't anticipate.

Of all the providences I have experienced thus far in my life, one of the most spiritually-beneficial has been my training in English Literature. It has completely transformed the way I read the Bible.

It's taught me the art of close-reading. You don't take a single word of a sonnet for granted. Learning this has trained my eye to dissect passages of Scripture that I would have passed over before, all because of one word that stood out from the rest.

It's taught me to view all the parts of a text as an interconnected whole. Oftentimes, authors utilize particular words and metaphors to tie specific passages of their novel/play/poem together. In hunting for these in literature, I've learned to trace these same word-trails throughout Scripture. The principle of reading syntopically has trained me to follow a theme outside of the specific Bible book I encountered it in. Because, usually, it's there in all of the other books as well.

It's taught me how important context, both textual and historical, is to truly understanding a text. The argument and intent of the original author is more important than our personal agendas.

It's awakened me to the artistry of the Bible. In learning to spot foreshadowing in Shakespeare, I've been trained to discover it in the prophets. Understanding typology has awoken me to how intricate a picture Isaac was of Christ.  Reading and relating to the deeply personal work of Herbert or Donne has drawn me to the equally-exquisite poetry of the Psalms. The longing of the metaphysical poets for union with God makes me more conscious of the longing the prophets felt for reconciliation for Israel.

I could go on, but these are some of the most obvious examples. Before I was trained to inquisitively read literature, I had always approached the Bible complacently. I read; I didn't analyze. I think a lot of church kids tend to wear "Bible goggles" when we read Scripture - because we're told that it's the inspired word of God, we take what we are reading for granted. We don't give it much thought, because we're reading it at face value.

My English courses have changed me. What used to be mind-numbing work has become instinctual. This spiritual connection made a lot more sense after my time in Cambridge. Being in a seminary environment, I realized that the tools I was given in my English classes were the same as those taught in divinity studies. Whether it's Greek or Hebrew or English, we're all learning to critically analyze texts.

Liberal Arts = not that useless. Study literature, kids.

Solo-wulf

"It is a great wonder

how Almighty God in His magnificence

favors our race with rank and scope

and the gift of wisdom; His sway is wide.

Sometimes He allows the mind of a man

of distinguished birth to follow its bent,

grants him fulfillment and felicity on earth

and forts to command in his own country.

He permits him to lord it in many lands

until the man in his unthinkingness

forgets that it will ever end for him.

He indulges his desires; illness and old age

mean nothing to him; his mind is untroubled

by envy or malice or the thought of enemies

with their hate-honed swords. The whole world

conforms to his will, he is kept from the worst

until an element of overweening

enters him and takes hold

while the soul's guard, its sentry, drowses,

grown too distracted. A killer stalks him,

an archer who draws a deadly bow.

And then the man is but in the heart,

the arrow flies beneath his defenses,

the devious promptings of the demon start.

His old possessions seem paltry to him now.

He covets and resents; dishonors custom

and bestows no gold; and because of good things

that the Heavenly Powers gave him in the past

he ignores the shape of things to come.

Then finally the end arrives

when the body he was lent collapses and falls

prey to its death; ancestral possessions

and the goods he hoarded are inherited by another

who lets them go with a liberal hand."

Beowulf, lines 1724-1757

 Reminded me of this:

There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, and it lies heavy on mankind: a man to whom God gives wealth, possessions, and honor, so that he lacks nothing of all that he desires, yet God does not give him power to enjoy them, but a stranger enjoys them. This is vanity; it is a grievous evil.

Ecclesiastes 6:1-2