Creation narrative literary theory

Amid the reckless academic decisions I have made this semester (including applying to only one grad school.....the fallout from that is another post, though), I found myself taking six classes, plus unofficially "auditing" someone else's independent study. That's 21 credits. I was slightly terrified going into it, but SO FAR it hasn't been too bad. I just slavishly keep on top of my homework every night. (In an ironic twist of fate, my completely neurotic fixation on homework this semester has made me the most productive I have yet been, and I actually have more free time* than I did before.) 

All of this is a really long-winded lead-up to the subject of this post - the aforesaid independent study audit. Another irony, despite being the class I didn't need to worry about, it was actually the one that made me the most nervous, because of the subject matter: Postmodern Semiotics.

Now, here, if you're like me, you're wondering: WHAT THE HECK IS POSTMODERN SEMIOTICS?

Semiotics is the study of how we assign things meaning and the relationship between symbols and the ideas they represent. A "famous" example of the idea behind contemporary semiotics is the painting by Rene Magritte called "The Treachery of Images":

Translation: "I am not a pipe"

Magritte is making both a joke and a statement on semiotics. The painting depicts a pipe, but the image we see isn't actually a pipe. It's only a picture of one. Ferdinand Saussure, one of the founders of modern semiotics, made a distinction between the "signifier" (in this case, the picture/painting) and the "signified" (the concept of a pipe itself). The strong Postmodernism comes in when Saussure claims that the connection between these two concepts is largely arbitrary. In language, this plays out in the way that not all words in one language directly correspond to similar words in another. One of my friends is a German major, so most of the examples I'm aware of are between English-German: We don't have a word for "schadenfreude" (pleasure in another person's pain), and apparently German has no equivalent for "creepy." Saussure and his followers would argue that different languages contain different ideas; we create words and assign meanings to them.

I had no idea what most of this was until several weeks ago, but, thanks to the classical education I was given (shameless plug), I was able to recognize that this conversation about semiotics is not new at all. In fact, the very "postmodern" approach to the connection between words and ideas simply goes back to the Medieval debates over Nominalism and Realism.

• Realism affirms Plato's theory of universals and particulars. To go back to the Magritte painting, Realists would say that every concept exists in two ways: The overarching, universal idea (pipe-ness), and each particular time it is represented in daily life (all the various pipes in the world, though different, are still tied together by their conformity to "pipe-ness"). We call a pipe a "pipe" because it embodies the idea of "pipe-ness."
• Nominalism rejects the existence of universals. We don't have any abstract ideals of "pipe-ness"; we just have pipes. We call a pipe a "pipe" because that is simply what we want to call it. In other words, when we create the word "pipe" we are also creating the concept of a "pipe." There may exist similarities between one pipe and another - and that's why they share the same name - but overall, they are their own entities. From what I understand, Saussure &co. would be more closely aligned with this view, because both emphasize the arbitrariness of language/signs.

I have always been sympathetic to Platonism, and really can't get on board with Nominalism's outright rejection of universal concepts. I find a lot to agree with in Augustine, who argued that the ideas we experience in life - love, for example - flow from the mind and attributes of God.

And now, I finally make it to the point of my post: Today, I was reading the creation narrative in Genesis 1-2. It struck me that God first created things, and then named them. In other words, ideas/objects preceded words. I've spent all morning thinking about this and I still haven't arrived at a satisfying conclusion. Would this be an argument for or against Nominalism? At first, I thought it was clearly implying a more Realist approach, because it would seem to say that "lightness" preceded the word "light." But perhaps the fact that Adam was given the task of naming the creatures would suggest that he was given the opportunity to assign differences between the species. I'm still leaning toward the former, but I would be really interested in hearing arguments from both sides.

Going to need to email my professor.

*Free time is a completely relative concept, and in this case means the homework ends with just enough time for a potential of 8 hours of sleep a night, assuming I do not (gasp) do some personal reading or go out with friends.

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)

The problem of evil and other cheery things

Or, why you shouldn't focus on one realm of theology at the expense of the others.

 

In keeping with what has become the confessional nature of this blog, there are two things I must admit to from yesterday:

1. My mind wandered in chapel.
2. I'm glad it did.

For a year now, the problem of evil has been randomly plaguing my mind. Depending on each person, there are some things which are easier to obey God in than others. For example, as an individual who has gone on record for thanking a cop for a license plate citation, fits of rage generally aren't my problem. But when it comes to verses like, "The secret things belong to the Lord our God," my reaction is typically: "BUT WHY DO THERE HAVE TO BE SECRET THINGS?!!??!?!" Without much more of an explanation for the reason God let evil exist than, "It's for His glory," Sarah, who operates on logic and reason, breaks down. I am my namesake.

Enter ROMANS 9.

 

At the same time, I am a good sober Calvinist. Namby pamby angst at not being included in the inside information of God's providence gets answered with "who are you, O [wo]man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, 'Why did you make me like this,' will it?" God, who is, well, God, has this figured out. Quit whining.

 

While all of this theology is correct, my attitude began to move in a dangerous direction. Without realizing it, my view of my relationship with God began to take on keywords such as  "stoic," 'detached," and "cold."

 

Enter CHAPEL.

 

Bad Christian alert: I don't remember what the speaker was saying. But somehow it got me thinking about all of the above. In the midst of all that, this suddenly dawned on me:

 

A detached, cold God, who arbitrarily allows evil into the world He created would not send His son into it to die an excruciating, cosmically-humiliating death in order to redeem us from said evil. He would not personally involve Himself.

And so we come back to the essence of the Gospel, and the need to daily remind ourselves of the reality of all that Christ has done for us. When you focus on God's sovereignty and meanwhile forget to dwell on His lovingkindness, you end up crying in a parking lot for an hour over the apparent meaninglessness of the crap which has happened (or that you're scared will happen) in your life*.

 

Enter SARAH, ascending SOAPBOX.

 

We rightly advocate the need for precise theology. But in doing so, we must remember that incomplete theology can be just as dangerous as the incorrect variety as well. We are not going to get by living on only half the story. God is just and God is good. He is powerful and also loving. He is Creator and Redeemer.

 

This side of eternity, we will never get a rationally-satisfying answer for the problem of evil. But the work of Christ reassures us. The words of Job, whose story essentially revolves around this problem, come to mind:

 

“As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives,
And at the last He will take His stand on the earth.
Even after my skin is destroyed,
Yet from my flesh I shall see God;
Whom I myself shall behold,
And whom my eyes will see and not another.
My heart faints within me!”

 

-----

*This is, of course, just an example and obviously never actually happened.

Foolishness to the gentiles....

I was looking inside my Omnibus III book, as I know all of you do, and I came across a discussion question that was asked:

"Since the rise of Christianity, one of the great tensions in Western culture has been framed as 'faith v. reason.' How do faith and reason fit together?"

Especially after I was exposed to the philosophers when I started high school, that dilemma has been on my mind pretty often. There's a lot in the Bible that makes sense to anyone who thinks about it long enough, but when you get to doctrines like Christ's Incarnation or Resurrection, the only way we can possibly accept it is through faith.

When reading church history, one thing I've noticed is how often people try to resolve the dilemma. The church fathers spent much of their time reconciling Platonism with New Testament doctrines. Later on in Medieval Europe, Scholasticism, with its most famous adherent, Thomas Aquinas, picked up where our Ancient forefathers left off, producing several different hermeneutical techniques (whether they were good or not, well, that's another post ;-) which clearly show the influence of philosophy. When the Reformation came around, Protestant scholars like Luther or Calvin often used the sophisticated rules of logic to aid their Biblical studies. And likely the most recognizable to us today, the liberals of the 19th and 20th centuries often compromised such doctrines as 6-Day Creation and the Virgin Birth in order to make the Bible fit neatly into their scientific theories.

With all that in mind, I think of one of my favorite parts of the Bible, Acts 17. Here, Faith (Paul) and Reason (the Greeks) meet. I find Paul's approach to witnessing to the very-philosophical Gentiles interesting. Instead of completely dismissing reason and philosophy, he uses both to argue his case. That isn't to say that he embraced their philosophies himself, but it does show that we can arrive at truths taught in the Bible simply by thinking rationally about things around us, i.e. the depravity of man, the basic moral law, etc.

But where reason falls short is when you try to explain why man is fallen or prove that Christ is God. If we were able to explain away every difficulty in the Bible, there would be no place for faith. "But a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised." (1 Corinthians 2:14)

In the end, it appears that reason is best used when it is the servant of faith. Nothing should dissuade us of what we believe is taught in the Bible. But when witnessing, teaching, or studying, reason helps  us arrive at conclusions or forcefully present an argument. In church history, when orthodox Christianity is embraced, intellectual pursuits don't diminish, but flourish. Take a look at all the books written in the Reformation, Puritan era, Great Awakening, etc. On the other hand, when a culture abandons Christ, things go downhill. Ever heard of Postmodernism, anyone?

Plato's wish fulfilled in Christ

J.R. Miller:

Plato expressed a desire that the moral law might become a living personage, that men seeing it thus incarnate, might be charmed by its beauty. Plato's wish was fulfilled in Jesus Christ! The holiness and the beauty of the divine law were revealed in Him. The Beatitudes contain an outline of the ideal life--but the Beatitudes are only a transcript of the life of Christ Himself! What He taught about love--was but His own love stated in a course of living lessons for His friends to learn. When He said that we should be patient, gentle, thoughtful, forgiving, and kind--He was only saying, "Follow Me!"

If we could gather from the most godly people who ever have lived, the little fragments of lovely character which have blossomed out in each, and bring all these fragments into one personality--we would have the beauty of Jesus Christ! In one person you find gentleness, in another meekness, in another purity of heart, in another humility, in another kindness, in another patience. But in the holiest of men, there are only two or three qualities of ideal beauty--along with much that is stained and blemished, mingled with these qualities. In Christ, however, all that is excellent is found, with no flaw!

"You are absolutely beautiful, my Beloved; there is no flaw in You!" Song of Songs 4:7

A Vindication of the Rights of Women - Chapter 7

When was my last (and first) Junto post? I don't want to look.....hmmmm.....how'd that happen? Well, I didn't forget about it....I just, uh, put if off. :-)

So in order to be able to write this post, I decided to skip ahead in the book to the more "practical" chapters towards the end. I'll go back to the beginning after that. I found out that Mary Wallstonecroft isn't the easiest to understand, (grin) so I thought that if I go ahead to the less philosophical chapters, I'll get used to her style of writing. I know that's breaking all the book-reading rules, which I usually slavishly follow, but I think this is an ok exception. :D

I'll probably break this chapter - on modesty - up into 2 parts because after merely reading several pages into it, I already found a lot to talk about.

I disagree with Wollstonecraft's respective definitions of modesty and humility: Humility, she says, is "a kind of self-abasement," something weak; Modesty is "that soberness of mind which teaches a man not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think." The thing is, we as Christians should, in a sense, recognize our sinfullness, and dwell on Christ's righteousness. We ought to have a degree of self-abasement so that we can appreciate what
Christ has done for us.

One of the most interesting arguments she makes is that modesty comes hand in hand with mental cultivation. The more educated you are, the more modest you will be. This is because those whose minds are taught to think rationally will therefore resist the irrationality of pride. But the Bible doesn't command just the intelligent Christians to be modest. Modesty is a moral virtue, not a mental virtue. It doesn't take great wisdom (in the worldy sense) to be modest. It takes a desire to be more like Christ.

So that's it for now. I'll really try to get a Junto post out each week from now on. :-)

A Vindication of the Rights of Women - Introduction

Although I'm only at the very beginning of the book, I'm fascinated by it. That's not to say I agree with 100% of what it says, but I think that if I did, I wouldn't find it to be as interesting.

Right at the beginning, Wollstonecraft states as one of her grievances the poor standard of education available to most women up to and during her time, keeping them, as she puts it, "in perpetual childhood"- just an example of the attitude that women are not merely weaker in body, but weaker in mind, unable to mentally process deeper subjects or think deeply and clearly for themselves. You can see the vicious cycle this created: Women, their studies being restricted merely to the arts and household management, will therefore amuse themselves with lighter and more frivolous entertainments; men seeing this will consider their theory correct; men continue to withhold secondary level education from females.

Although she was what we might consider an early feminist, Wollstonecraft would have probably frowned upon our modern day ones - she clearly states that women are designed to be physically weaker than men, and disapproved of them taking place in strenuous activities. At this point, she is simply arguing for woman's intellectual equality. So far, so good.

I agree with her fears of the dangers presented because of this treatment of women. She argued that by keeping women in this state of existence, they function as being merely ornamental. By the time they reach middle age, and their bloom has left them, they have no reason for staying alive. But I also fear the end that one might reach if you carry her ideas further, perhaps, than she originally meant for them to go; we all know what that is - you don't even have to bother looking around you for it; feminism has a way of forcing entrance into all our lives, whether we like it or not.

So, at this point in the book, I *generally* agree with what it says. But, things can always change, and Maddie has made me fearful that they probably will. :-)

Update on the sidebar and cups

Since I added some new ones to the sidebar, I thought I'd tell you about the books I'm reading right now.


Calvin's Institutes

First off, there's Calvin's Institutes. Right now I'm reading about the Trinity, and Calvin's defense for the deity of each person of it. I read it during my morning devotions, so that I don't forget to read it during the rest of the day. :-) A weird part of me is amused by how Calvin, when describing heretics and their heresies, often uses the word "stupid." You don't really think of a reformer as somebody who'd use that particular term!

Emotional Purity

This is a book that my mom and I had been wanting to read, and to our surprise, she found it at the public library! While reading this book, I keep finding myself wishing that I could have read it years ago! You always hear about purity in the sense of modesty, etc., but the topic of your emotions often gets forgotten. I don't know if its just me, but for the first few chapters at least, it seems like the author keeps repeating the same thing. But hey, repetitio mater studiorum - repetition is the mother of learning. So I wont complain too much.



The History of the Ancient World

Man, this author is impressive. Read her biography, and you'll see why I admire her. Anyways, she's writing a 4 volume history of the world, and this is the one on Ancient History. I really like how she tells history as a story, and not a bunch of dry facts. One thing I wish she covered more would be the culture of the civilizations she writes about - there's a lot of stuff about wars and politics (military history), but not as much about what daily life was like. But aside from that, I love this book! I've learned a lot from it.




In Christ Alone

This is a compilation of 50 articles Sinclair Ferguson wrote for several magazines, with the purpose being to show what, as the subtitle says- Living the Cross-centered Life - is like. Each chapter is only 4 pages long, so you could read several at a time, and feel like you made an accomplishment. :-) This is a very thought-provoking book.






The Last Days of Socrates

This is a series of the last discussions Socrates had in his lifetime, written down later on by his student Plato. I've only gotten a little bit into it, but so far this is a really fascinating book. There are places though, where you have to re-read what he's saying at least 3 times. But overall, I think it's worth the time it takes to read it, because in doing so, you're getting to know one of the greatest minds in western philosophy.




The Mysteries of Udolpho

Being the Jane Austen enthusiast that I am, when I saw this book at the library, visions of Northanger Abbey came to mind, and I was determined to see what the big deal was about this book back in the 1700's. I started reading the first 10 or 15 pages, and to tell you the truth, I'm a little disapointed. I'm hoping it gets better as the story goes on. So far there was somewhere around 6 pages spent describing a house and its grounds, which then reminded me of Les Miserables. Ick. Anyways, the people of the 18th century must have had a reason for liking this, so I'm going to see why.



Young People's Problems

I've quoted here a lot from this book. Every teenager should read it. You'll be convicted, inspired, and encouraged. I can't think of anything else to say other than IT'S REALLY GOOD!!! Books for teens today tend to be so shallow; this book, being over a hundred years old, could be read by adults and teens alike, and both of them would benefit greatly from it. It's definitely worth your time!




UPDATE ON THE CUPS MENTIONED IN PREVIOUS POST

Alas, while I was doing my devotions yesterday morning, I heard the sound of shattering glass. Yes, one of the glasses sacrificed itself for the other one. My mom was the executioner.

Food for Thought

Consider the following point: is the holy approved by the gods because its holy, or is it holy because its approved?

(Plato's Euthyphro, page 20)

Today I was reading about a discussion Socrates had with a man who was taking his father to court for homicide. They disagreed over whether or not it was holy for the man to do so. During the discussion, Socrates asked him what he believed the standard of holiness was. Euthyphro (the man) answered that whatever the gods approved of, he believed to be righteous. Here Socrates took his position apart with the following argument:

The way something is determined to be holy is whether the gods approve of it.
The gods are always disagreeing, so each god has a different standard of holiness.
Therefore, Euthyphro's standard of holiness is a subjective one.

This is a very effective way to take apart a polytheistic, pagan religion's holiness standard, but it's no good when used against Christianity. We as Christians believe in only one God. Granted, our God is the Trinity, but as the Westminster Shorter Catechism puts it -

There are three persons in the Godhead; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; and these three are one God, the same in substance, equal in power and glory

and therefore cannot disagree! So, if we were to restate Socrates argument through the lens of Christianity, it might look something like this:

The way something is determined to be holy is whether God approves of it.
The Trinity is in perfect agreement with each other
Therefore, Euthyphro's standard of holiness is an objective one.

Isn't it interesting how a theory can be disproved when applied to a certain belief, but becomes valid when applied to another?

Aren't you glad that every person in the Godhead is in perfect agreement with each other? The world would be a complicated place if it weren't so. Instead of a god that is always changing, you'd have a god who couldn't make any decisions, always changing whatever is started.

I suppose some would say that studying philosophy is rather pointless - it deals with a bunch of hypothetical concepts and situations which never have, and never will, exist. But for me, understanding what these great (but mistaken) men believed, and then comparing it to Christianity, I find myself appreciating all the things about what I believe that I took for granted. I never really contemplated the importance of unity in the Trinity, or God's immutability until now. So although these men were very wrong in a lot of what they believed, their theories which are still around today accomplish the opposite effect of what one would expect them to - Instead of making me doubt Christianity, philosophy convinces me of it.

Warning - what follows is a boring philosophical post

This year I've been introduced to the study of philosophy, and have discovered that it's not quite as dry as I thought it was. I actually now really, really, really like it. Nota bene to the 3(-/+) readers of my blog - you shouldn't run, hide, gasp in horror etc. upon reading this because, really, have I ever attempted to lead you to believe that I'm normal?

So lately I read about this man named Heraclitus and his particular order of philosophy. Essentially, what he believed is that everything is constantly changing. People change - we grow older every second, we learn new things, we grow, (vertically till some point in our teenage years; horizontally from then on) etc. Nature obviously changes too. Heraclitus is most famously known for his phrase, "It is not possible to step in the same river twice." So by tomorrow, according to Heraclitus, everything in existence will be different than it is today. Everything changes, and if something doesn't change, it doesn't exist.

If you're a true Christian, it's impossible to fully agree with this philosophy. Those who do, are at best, dangerous heretics, and at worst, atheists. One of the most fundamental Christian doctrines is the immutability of God, or in everyday phraseology, His unchangeable-ness. I don't think I need to provide Scriptures to back this up - its pretty self-evident. So, with that in mind, the reason why an advocate of Heraclitus' philosophy would be at best a dangerous heretic is because they would be denying God's immutability. What a scary version of Christianity that would be! The purest version of this philosophy would probably then involve being an atheist - if you believe in a God who doesn't change, you believe in a God who doesn't exist, and since Heraclitus' followers believe everything changes, they must then believe God doesn't exist.

Thinking about all this makes me more grateful for who God is. If reality was the way Heraclitus envisioned it to be, what would be the point in believing in a god who never stayed the same? Who or what could you trust? How could you be certain of anything if even a god is a different god tomorrow than they are today? Thankfully, that's a situation which will never exist, and that "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." Hebrews 13:8