Lovely poesy

Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?

He is a brittle crazy glass;
Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window, through thy grace.

But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,
Making thy life to shine within
The holy preachers, then the light and glory
More reverend grows, and more doth win;
Which else shows waterish, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colors and light, in one
When they combine and mingle, bring
A strong regard and awe, but speech alone
Doth vanish like a flaring thing
And in the ear, not conscience, ring.

(George Herbert, Windows)

So this semester I'm taking three 300-level history and English courses, because I obviously didn't have enough to do with my time in fall. As a result, all I do is read. I know, why am I complaining? This ought to be Sarah nirvana. Yeah yeah. I guess I just don't like being told what to read? That's my theory, anyways.

The plus side, however, is that I'm in a class called "Major British Authors of the Seventeenth Century." Ahhhhh. Don't tell my other professors, but the one teaching it is my favorite at school. I actually met him when touring the college the first time and he told me all about this amazing great books honors program he was working on starting up. (Yes, that was the moment I made my college decision.) But I digress. There are seven students in the class, and we all just sit around talking about poetry. Love and religion are the big themes. I sort of love it.

I came across the above poem yesterday and am totally drawn to it. The end reminds me of James 2. The thing I love about this period in English literature is how profoundly spiritual it is. It points me back to Christ. And then it's also incredibly beautiful. It's going to be a good semester.

Some nerdy medieval lit crit

With thanks to the ever-insightful C.S. Lewis:

"I doubt if they would have understood our demand for originality or valued those works in their own age which were original any the more on that account. If you had asked Lazamon or Chaucer, 'Why do you not make up a brand-new story of your own?' I think they might have replied (in effect) "Surely we are not yet reduced to that?' Spin something out of one's own head when the whole world teems with so many noble deeds, wholesome examples, pitiful tragedies, strange adventures, and merry jests which have never yet been set forth quite so well as they deserve? The originality which we regard as a sign of wealth might have seemed to them a confession of poverty. Why make things for oneself like the lonely Robinson Crusoe when there is riches all about you to be had for the taking? The modern artist often does not think the riches is there. He is the alchemist who must turn base metal into gold. It makes a radical difference."

 (The Discarded Image, pp. 211-212)

This completely changed the way I look at literature. A story doesn't necessarily have to be original to be worth telling. I'm reminded of epics like the Iliad, Odyssey, Beowulf, Paradise Lost. The authors didn't create the stories; they simply found compelling ways to tell them.

I especially love the one sentence, "Spin something out of one's own head when the whole world teems with so many noble deeds, wholesome examples, pitiful tragedies, strange adventures, and merry jests which have never yet been set forth quite so well as they deserve?" Totally inspiring.

Challenge accepted.

On not getting Nietzsche

.....or, Why I'm Glad I Almost Failed Calculus.

I have a confession to make.

This year has been a little traumatic for me in the intellectual department. It all started when I came down with senioritis, and was forced to discover that I am not immune to boredom with learning. Around that time, I tried reading Nietzsche. Whoa. Up until then, my cavalier, what-have-I-got-to-lose-nothing's-that-hard-anyways approach to education had pretty steadily worked out for me. Sarah the Bluestocking was going to defeat Nietzsche the Philosopher. In fact, she would make him cry, and it would be awesome. But a page into Beyond Good and Evil, I realized the hard way that existentialist philosophy is rather difficult to understand. As it turns out, Nietzsche had gotten the best of me.

Then, to add insult to injury, nearly a year later, there I was again, sitting in a lab in the science building of my college, calculus final in front of me, praying my heart out that I would pass this time. My plan going into this semester had gone all wrong. I knew Calculus and I wouldn't be best friends, but we could at least be civil to each other. But now, even that looked like it wasn't going to happen.

When you're in the middle of a staring contest with an exam that appears to be written in cuneiform, and your gpa, scholarships, and academic standing all depend on how well  you score, you begin to rethink all your previously-held notions about the world you live in. Compound this phenomenon with all the other failures of the year, and I realized that I wasn't the prodigy I fantasized being.

But that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

God has used 2012 to teach me several things, and making the top three is the loveliness of humility.

To appreciate that, though, it helps to first contemplate how ugly the opposite is. To start off, when Satan told Eve, "For God knows that in the day you eat from [the fruit] your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil," it's her ego he was appealing to. We have pride to thank for getting us into this mess in the first place. But it's also what keeps us in it. Just like that initial sin of our first parents, every wrong thought, word, or deed we commit now is motivated by pride. We want to do things our way. We know best. Our pride is responsible for all the ongoing ugliness surrounding us in the world.

Despite the first few blows to my ego, before school began I was in a rather self-satisfied vantage point in my outlook on life. I'd managed to snag a respectable SAT score and get accepted into the honors program at my college. And this was all due to my, ahem, self-taught high school education. (Don't let yourself get too intimidated. I'm only human, after all.) But during the first few weeks of school, I started getting to know my fellow students. One of my friends is the author of two (soon to be three) novels. Another honors student is finishing translating the Inferno into English. Yet another dear friend's graduation photo shows a girl in cap and gown, literally covered in honors cords and tassels and all sorts of academic bling. Among the others are computer programmers, playwrights, would-be physicists. 

And then there's Sarah with her blog full of earth-shattering insights, her biggest contribution to humanity. Hardcore stuff.

When you don't keep an eye on the pride that we are all naturals at cultivating, you end up having revelations like these.

But right when you're in the middle of all that, desperately scanning that calc exam and finally seeing yourself for the silly wretch that you really are, namely, one who could give Fraiser Crane a run for his money in pomposity, God steps in. (Well, actually, He was there all the time - He was the one responsible for graciously holding up a mirror.) He shows you the example of Christ.

Of all people to have bragging rights, it's Him. He knows everything, can do everything. He created calculus. And Nietzsche. So is that what He was focused on? Nope. When He came here, he was happy being made "a little lower than the angels." He came to bring a people to Himself by saving them from their sins. Not to show off.

The lovely thing about humility is that it makes us forget ourselves. It makes us so busy being focused on Him that we don't have time to obsess over us. It opens our eyes, displays before us the beauty of Christ, shows us that our accomplishments, whether real or imagined, are nothing compared with Him. It enables you to say, "Not my will, but Yours be done." You don't want to become a better you; you want to become like Christ.

So that's why I'm glad I almost failed calc. God was reminding me that there's more to life than getting Nietzsche. He used that failure to bring me "to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see [Him] in the heights."

Letting this one speak for itself

"The very fact that a holy, eternal, all-knowing, all-powerful, merciful, fair, and just God loves you and me is nothing short of astonishing.

The wildest part is that Jesus doesn't have to love us. His being is utterly complete and perfect, apart from humanity. He doesn't need me or you. Yet He wants us, chooses us, even considers us His inheritance (Eph. 1:18). The greatest knowledge we can ever have is knowing God treasures us.

That really is amazing beyond description. The holy Creator sees you as His "glorious inheritance."

The irony is that while God doesn't need us but still wants us, we desperately need God but don't really want Him most of the time. He treasures us and anticipates our departure from this earth to be with Him - and we wonder, indifferently, how much we have to do for Him to get by."

(Crazy Love, by Francis Chan, pp. 7-8) 

Geeking out

Our last assignment in my honors class was to create an infographic. We could choose any topic we liked, so I decided this was a golden opportunity to sum up the stories we read in class in a more engaging way (or at least I hope that's how it turned out). Either way, it was a really fun project.

Behold the finished product:

TGIF

So when I walked into my western civ class 45 minutes ago, I was immediately struck by the fact there was nobody there. It was rather awkward, so I decided to check my email and see if the location had been switched or something. Ah, such a freshman. Lo and behold, my class had been cancelled! Happy Friday! So right now I'm thoroughly living it up in the commuter lounge, eating a doughnut and social networking. 

What is the commuter lounge, you ask? Another hot insider bit of information: Of all places on campus to hang out, this is by far the 5-star accommodation. I guess it's intended to be a place for day students to chill between classes, but it is much, much more than that. Gracing it with their presence are the two most comfortable couches I have ever encountered in my 19 years. Also, it's always at this perfectly calculated temperature - just walking in, you instantly feel restful. So naturally, this is the place you go to catch a nap before class after another 4-hour night of sleep. (Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. So suspicious.) Also, since it's divided from a hallway by a half-wall, it gives you the perfect opportunity to lazily say hi to friends walking by or just generally creep on random people. Finally, it affords several excellent hiding spots, when such a thing might be in handy. I'll leave it at that.

In our honors class, we are now reading Cicero - "On the Good Life." Pretty much all Stoic philosophy. I absolutely love it. I think Cicero is my new nerd crush. No, this is not a blanket endorsement of said philosophy, but it is an admission of fascination with it. Like anything produced by fallen man, there are good ideas to be found. The trick is keeping Christ always within your perspective. Talking about what we like or dislike about such philsophies, we can sometimes become so wrapped up in the details and logic that we forget to ask ourselves what the Bible has to say on the matter. But anyways, I am very much enjoying this class; my favorite part, though, is the impromptu debates that occur with my friends afterwards. Yes, I love college. :-)

Off to chapel now. Have a great Friday!

Here I Stand

"Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason - I do not accept the authority of the popes and councils, for they have contradicted each other - my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. God help me. Amen."

Happy Reformation Day.

Research paper

So I have this 5-7 page research paper due in a couple weeks, and naturally I'm blogging about it instead of working on it.

Yes, it's an Instagram. Behold my hip-ness.

A few thoughts:

1. I'm rather excited about this paper, because it's the first one I've written this semester whose topic I got to pick and am therefore genuinely interested in. Of course you're now wondering what in fact the topic is. So here's the hot insider info, aka my thesis statement: The Renaissance wasn't so much a rediscovery of classical culture as it was a new attitude toward it. You know you're fascinated.
2. The sad thing about the above picture is that I own all the books I'm using for research.
3. Even more sad is that I sort of read half of them in highschool. Two possible conclusions could be drawn from this:

• I was a nerd in high school.

•  I'm too lazy to find new sources of information in college.

On an almost completely unrelated note, it's been interesting to observe what college-level classes are like. Granted, mine are for freshmen, but it's still not highschool. I'm probably jinxing myself saying this only halfway into the semester, but so far they've been easier than I had expected. The one exception to this, of course, is Calculus. I somehow managed to get a 58 on my most recent exam. I'm rather disappointed with myself, because if I'm going to fail, I should at least make it interesting and get every answer wrong. None of this 2-points-away-from-a-pass stuff. But hey, if I can pull at least a D in this class, I'm 26 school days away from never having to take a math course again in my life! Howbout that?

Back to the research paper. I'm really excited about this, because the topic is one that's been on my mind since sophomore year. Remember that huge list of books I made for myself? As I started reading them, I discovered that I had a lot of misconceptions about Medieval culture. After all, when people nickname a time period the Dark Ages, there can't be too much to hope for in the literary department. As it turns out, though, almost every book I read either made multiple references to classical culture or was clearly influenced by it. So what was so different about the Renaissance? That, my dear reader, is what the paper is all about. Yippee.

Keeping this one bookmarked

That moment when only a Puritan can explain how you feel dead-on. My latest has lasted all weekend. Love this.

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
Thou has brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter
thy stars shine;
Let me find thy light in my darkness,
Thy life in my death,
thy joy in my sorrow,
thy grace in my sin,
thy riches in my poverty
thy glory in my valley.

(The Valley of Vision - prayer by the same name)

"The deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine"

"The valley is the place of vision"

"Let me find thy light in my darkness"

So true. Trials become blessings.

College came, college saw, college conquered

So I've been passing my time these past four weeks shaking things up at my Lutheran college. Of course, the above statement makes me sound far more influential than I really am, but I'll let you run with the idea anyways.....

The first week was a little scary. Going from homeschooling with the ability to count all my friends on my fingers to constant stimulus, constant people, constant homework was an adjustment. It feels lazy to not do any lesson planning/grading/etc. Eclipsing all that, though, is that I now have to get out of my pajamas before noon each day. Major changes, indeed.

I love all my professors. They're all completely different from each other, too, so that keeps the day interesting. My favorite class, hands down, is Honors - The Ancient World, wherein we study the ancient Great Books. Yeah, I know. Try not to be too envious of me. It's the last class of the day, and has a very relaxed atmosphere. Our professor pretends to be surly, but it's really just his way of being hilarious. Looking forward to this is what gets me through calculus. Eight a.m. calculus at that. My friend and I deal with it by keeping a countdown in my notebook of the days left till it's over. Should I be admitting this in public?

Speaking of friends, God has blessed me with a great group of them. When we aren't up to shenanigans like exploring the "haunted" areas of the campus at midnight, we're debating theology or having an impromptu jam session in the dorms. Yes, I'm growing quite fond of our little group.

So there isn't really a point to this post. Just checking in to banish any fears of abandonment my extensive readership might be holding. (Yeah, I've joined the one-post-a-month club, but such is life when you're a cool college kid.) All in all, I love everything about college so far. God is good.

Off to take a look at the homework I've been blowing off....but you didn't hear that from me.