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.



Spring break, part 1

Come next Monday, we are released for four weeks to run wildly around the continent. Naturally, I've spent the last month organizing this trip in painful detail. Because that's how I deal with excitement. Ha. Anyways, here's the agenda:

• TUESDAY, MARCH 24: Fly into Milan. Spend the day checking out the Duomo, the Last Supper, and possibly the ruins of Constantine's palace (where he signed the Edict of Milan in 312). A friend from church recommended a life-changing calzone place, so I'll hunt that down too. Then, at night, we hop on the train to Rome.
• WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25: Vatican festivities. Our hostel is near the train station, so we'll walk past Keats' House/Spanish Steps and the Castel Sant'Angelo on our way to the Vatican in the morning. Once there, it'll be the standard St. Peter's, Museums, and Sistine Chapel till they close at 6. At night we'll take the train to the suburb of Ciampino where we'll stay the night, because it's close to the airport where we have an early flight in the morning.
• THURSDAY, MARCH 26: Day in Athens. Yup, a day. I found ridiculously cheap ($30) tickets which will allow us to arrive in the morning and leave at night. After talking to friends who were just there, it sounds like most of what there is to see is all near the Acropolis, so you don't need more than a day or two. Anyways, I'm guessing we'll have about 6-7 hours to see the Parthenon/Acropolis, Agora, and Mars Hill. Probably won't get to the museums, but that's ok.
• FRIDAY, MARCH 27: Roman ruins. We'll start outside the Domus Aurea and make our way around the southern ruins, from the Coliseum towards the Palatine Hill and Circus Maximus. Then we'll head to the Forum and have a picnic lunch there if that's allowed. Then it'll be Trajan's Markets, the Campo de Fiori, and Pantheon. At night, we'll toss our coins into the Trevi Fountain and get on a train to Naples.
• SATURDAY, MARCH 28: Pompeii. 30-min train to the slopes of Vesuvius, where we'll hike to the caldera. Then we'll get back on the train and go a little further south to the ruins of Pompeii, and revel in all the Roman nerdiness. Everything closes around 6, so we'll head back to Naples to explore and grab some authentic Neapolitan pizza.
• SUNDAY, MARCH 29: Train to Florence. I'm guessing we'll arrive around 11am, so we'll most likely miss church services, but I have some sermons on my ipod which will ease my guilt. Once we're there, we'll picnic in the Boboli Gardens, which have an amazing view of the city, and visit the Duomo. I'm a little nervous about crowds, as it's Palm Sunday and thus the beginning of Holy Week, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Other than the cathedral, I'm guessing we'll just wander around the city.
• MONDAY, MARCH 30: Hiking in Tuscany. After much research and breaking my habit of biannual Pinterest logins, I've decided to center our walking on Greve-in-Chianti, 50 minutes away from Florence by bus. About a mile from here is the village Montefioralle, where Amerigo Vespuci was born. I'm purposefully leaving the day wide open for whatever exploring we want to do. One thing for certain, we are not going to spend a day in the Chianti wine region without taking advantage of a bottle for a picnic lunch. Bethany & I plan on bringing our art stuff, so maybe we'll draw some of the countryside. Along the lines of art, we could also go north to Vinci to pay homage to Leonardo, but it all depends on time.
• TUESDAY, MARCH 31: Florence museums. Splitting the day between the Uffizzi Gallery (think basically every painting Boticelli ever did) and the Academy (David). Explore at night.
• WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1: Train to Venice. St. Mark's cathedral, canals, and a restaurant recommended by two different couples called "Pasta to Go." They make the pasta from scratch in front of you. Soooo excited. We're only going to spend a day here, though, because Venice is an incredibly expensive city and we don't want to dish out for a hotel. So we'll take a later train back to Milan for the night.
• THURSDAY, APRIL 2: Geneva. I'm still unsure about how I'll get us here, becuase we only have a France-Italy train pass and we'd have to pay a lot extra for a highspeed train to Switzerland. So my plan right now is to take slightly slower ones to one of the French towns about an hour away from Geneva and then transfer to a cheaper local train into the city. At that point, I'll we'll have the afternoon to see St. Pierre's Cathedral, the Reformation Wall, and walk around the old city and lakefront. The perverse side of me is so looking forward to dragging my Lutheran friends around the epicenter of Reformedom. I'VE BEEN PATIENT FOR THREE YEARS, I GET MY CALVINIST AFTERNOON. And then at night, we'll train hop our way to Paris.
• FRIDAY, APRIL 3 - SATURDAY, APRIL 4: Paris. Don't have a schedule and I don't think we'll make one. We just have a list of things we don't want to miss: Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Shakespeare & Co., sunset from Sacre Coeur, Arc de Triomphe, Latin Quarter, and possibly the Luxembourg Gardens. And of course, hit some cafes. And then we'll take the Chunnel back to London to make it to Cambridge in time for Easter services on Sunday.

Being broke college students, we're going to be staying in a bunch of hostels and eating out of grocery stores. We're also bringing only what we can fit inside a bag/backpack. That includes room for souvenirs. IT'S GOING TO BE LIKE THE HOBBIT!!! SO MUCH ADVENTURE!!!

So that's the first, and most insane, leg of our break-time European festivities. 11 days, 8 cities (plus Pompeii and the Tuscan villages). But before then, I have two papers to write, provisions to cook for the first few days, trains to reserve, and a bunch of documents/boarding passes/maps to print out. And there's a solar eclipse to gawk at on Friday morning. It's a busy week ahead of us.

Walk to Grantchester

Following George Herbert and C.S. Lewis. (....and Pink Floyd...but they're not as classy....)