That college tuition being put to good work

My friend Bethany and I are in art history together, and we've decided we're going to write our own art history book. Unlike most tomes gracing the halls of academia with their presence, this magnum opus would be the fun textbook. Of course, we would include such timeless advice such as "It's all about the drapery" or "They're not naked, they're nude," but we would mainly focus on blessing the world with our "unique and peppery analysis" as one advance reviewer put it.

Anyways, now that I'm looking at art with the eyes of an author, I'm finally seeing all the classic archtypes that had never come to my attention before this class. Like photobombing ("Paintingbombing" just doesn't have the same ring to it).

A few examples, for now.....

Everyone else is distraught, and this guy is just chilling, slightly bored, in the corner

That facial expression is gold.
"No really bro, I think I made it into the painting!"

It's a photobomb flash mob

It couldn't come soon enough

My professors are very wonderful people. And I've got to hand it to them, they outdid themselves making sure I earned spring break. There were many times last week that I was certain I was about to lose my sanity. But who cares about such gloom and misery? All is well now.

I've been rather living it up. Lots of looking out the window. Now that might not seem like much, but it's quite the luxury for me. Used to do it all the time back in middle school. People always talk about the best thinking occurring in the shower. They are in fact mistaken. It's when you look outside. Don't know what it is about it, but there's something about the infinite expanse of the sky that brings all the great metaphysical, theological questions to mind and forces me to deal with them. And then below that, there's the random cars driving by and the occasional person walking down the street, and I wonder where they're going, and what their lives are like, and how it all fits together in the grand scheme of things. I really could just sit in my room for hours. It's sort of like a mental reboot. During school I never have time to contemplate my own ideas; I'm too busy thinking about what I'm assigned to think about. So having the opportunity to do so now, with all my friends gone, is quite nice. I can step back from things, and sort of look at my life as an outsider, and evaluate what's good about it and where I should try to change things.

And then there are all my books. The above picture is the pile I'm spending my time with over break. Some are for school, others are ones I'm almost finished with but didn't have the time to work on, others are simply ones I impulsively started reading. While people are on vacation for break, I'm traveling too. Visiting Florence at the turn of the century; sitting at Thoreau's table in his cabin next to Walden Pond; watching Jean Valjean become a new man during the aftermath of the French Revolution. That's what I love about reading. You get to live in a completely different world from the one you live in, but along the way, you find all the similarities between that one and your own. Watch out, I'm about to go off on a Great Ideas rant.......

So yup, much of my break so far has involved me sprawled out on the floor in my room, reading some rather wild books and trying to figure out things like the meaning of art or why God is repeatedly so good to such a waste of time as me (won't ever make much progress with that one), all while listening to indie music. Yes, I only now discovered the greatness of Pandora. Don't judge. Everyone else, have fun in Florida. I'm good here.

That George Herbert, the rascal....

I think I'm quite on my merry way to becoming obsessed with George Herbert. College is doing strange things to me. What with all these influences from peer pressure and classes about 17th-century literature, these tricksters are beguiling me out of my boring old prosaic ways and leaving instead a bit of a poetry nerd. Who saw that coming?

But then again, how could you not love this poem?

THE CHURCH-FLOORE.   

MARK you the floore ?  that square and speckled stone,
                    Which looks so firm and strong,
                                             Is Patience :

And th’ other black and grave, wherewith each one
                    Is checker’d all along,
                                             Humilitie :

The gentle rising, which on either hand
                    Leads to the Quire above,
                                             Is Confidence :

But the sweet cement, which in one sure band
                    Ties the whole frame, is Love
                                             And Charitie.

        Hither sometimes Sinne steals, and stains
        The marbles neat and curious veins :
But all is cleansed when the marble weeps.
        Sometimes Death, puffing at the doore,
        Blows all the dust about the floore :
But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps.
        Blest be the Architect, whose art
        Could build so strong in a weak heart.

As you could probably tell, the different kinds of stone represent different virtues in the Christian life. Patience is "strong and firm" because it takes a lot of self-discipline to maintain. "Black and grave" humility doesn't have bright and self-satisfied thoughts about itself. I like Herbert's imagery here because it can also take on a double meaning in that he is also describing humility as the putting of your flesh to death. Confidence is the "gentle rising" of the soul out of its doubts towards communion with God. Finally, tying everything together is love, or charity. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13, the Christian, with all his virtues, is nothing without love. 

The second half of the poem details the two threats to Christian virtue: Sin and death. Both try to obscure it. The former is defeated when the "marble weeps," or when we repent. As for death, instead of obscuring our sanctification, it makes it all the more prominent. It shows whether it is really genuine.

What I love about Herbert is how much theology he packs into his poetry, and how he does so in a really beautiful way. Reading it forces me to think deeply about God from a different perspective/format than just that of a theology book.

So yeah, it's official. Herbert has been admitted into the exclusive society of Sarah's Nerd Crushes. Right up there with Erasmus, Cicero, Jaques Barzun. Yup, it's great.

Caritas Deo.....because titles sound cooler in Latin

In between reading from some pretty riveting textbooks about Roman society, Medieval literature, and Renaissance art, I've managed to sneak in a little non-school related literature. That in itself is an accomplishment, so bear with me here. I'm pretty geeked out. What's funny is that they're all books I probably would have turned my nose up to a few years back. I hope I'm learning to be open minded while still retaining discernment. Got to love all those fine lines and Golden Means.....

Anyways, I'm not done with any of these yet, but I'm noticing a common effect they've had on me so far. They make me want to love God more. Both straight up affection towards His person and a desire to truly dedicate my self and life to Him. One of my trademark personality traits is an epically one-tracked mind, which can be good, but in this case makes things difficult. I tend to get wrapped up in the details of getting through my day and forget the big picture of why I'm really here in the first place. These books point me back to God. They've reminded me of how lovely a life that's lived for Him really is. They make me want that.

First off is Francis Chan's Crazy Love. One of its passages has already made the blog. I'm about halfway through and so far, the whole book is of the same caliber as the quote I posted. Highly convicting and reflective. I don't agree with what is a bit of an obsession in evangelical culture with feelings-based experiences in our spiritual lives, because most of the time our emotions are unreliable and we can't base our faith/spiritual status on what we're feeling at the present moment. But that said, affection for God still is an important part of our lives. You can love someone and not necessarily feel warm thoughts about them all the time, but if you never do, you've got a problem. So one of the things I'm appreciating about this book is how it stirs up my heart and brings me back to Christ. I don't want to become cold and distant.

I'm also reading Don't Waste Your Life by John Piper. It's sort of geared toward my college age crowd. While Crazy Love is more theology-ish, this is application. Piper urges us to make the most of our lives for God. This is how he starts off the book:

For me as a boy, one of the most gripping illustrations my fiery father used was the story of a man converted in old age. The church had prayed for this man for decades. He was hard and resistant. But this time, for some reason, he showed up when my father was preaching. At the end of the service, during a hymn, to everyone’s amazement he came and took my father’s hand. They sat down together on the front pew of the church as the people were dismissed. God opened his heart to the Gospel of Christ, and he was saved from his sins and given eternal life. But that did not stop him from sobbing and saying, as the tears ran down his wrinkled face—and what an impact it made on me to hear my father say this through his own tears—“I’ve wasted it! I’ve wasted it!” 

This was the story that gripped me more than all the stories of young people who died in car wrecks before they were converted—the story of an old man weeping that he had wasted his life. In those early years God awakened in me a fear and a passion not to waste my life. The thought of coming to my old age and saying through tears, “I’ve wasted it! I’ve wasted it!” was a fearful and horrible thought to me. (pp. 11-12)

That kind of thing has always been on my mind. Reading this has been like having someone shake you awake when you've dozed off in class (or something like that because I have no experience with that kind of thing....). I need to continue to be reminded of the big picture, that I'm not just in college to write papers and have fun with my (amazing) friends. And believe it or not, but college isn't the end-all either. I exist to glorify God. I need to remember to make my life one that is marked by that quality. They tell me I'm coming to the age in life when you make all the pretty important decisions. I want all of mine to be consistent with a life focused on God.

Finally, there's Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson. This is the book I've been reading the longest and have made the least progress in. C'est la vie. What I have read so far has shown me the beauty of God in the world around us. Reading it, I'm left in awe of how the details of creation point us back to God. Really, I have no excuse for getting distracted. God is everywhere. (Meant of course in the most orthodox, non-pantheistic, good-sober-Calvinist way possible.)

Yesterday, my pastor preached on how the Church is illustrated as a bride. What really struck me was how he applied it. This side of eternity is the engagement period. A bride spends hers busy preparing for the wedding. Her groom is never far from her thoughts. In the same way, it's only natural that we spend our lives preparing for our wedding day to Christ. Our love for Him will be expressed in our adorning ourselves with good deeds done for Him (Revelation 19:8). (Also meant of course in the most Protestant, Sola Gratia, good-sober-Calvinist way possible.) We can't afford to waste our time on things that won't contribute toward this goal; dare I say it? - ain't nobody got time for that.

So that's where my mind has been hanging out lately. Hooray for good books and sermons that convict you and point you to better things.

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!