This is going to sound very narcissistic, but have you ever sensed destiny?
What I mean is, have you ever gotten the feeling that your life was meant for something big? We all have a destiny; God has a plan for all of us. But does it ever seem that your life is going to make a difference on a large scale?
Like I said, it sounds narcissistic, but I often get that type of feeling. I don't know what it means or if it's true. Maybe I just have delusions of grandeur. But I feel, deep down, that I'm going to make a difference, even though I have no idea how. I have a gut feeling that in the near future, America is going to change drastically, and the way American Christians live will change with it. So maybe that's it. I don't know, it's just weird.
It's just that my life so far has been so freaking perfect. basically everything just lines up for me. It doesn't mean I don't work hard. But everything works out, almost too easily. Every job I've had has fallen in my lap. I ended up living at Cornerstone when I thought I would commute. And other things like that just seem way too coincidental.
Someone I respect once told me that I will have say no to a lot of things, that people will follow me. She told me that she would follow me. And that sunk in. Maybe that has inflated my ego's idea of the future a bit. But it didn't help.
I think when I started feeling this started when I almost died. To make a long story short (although the long story is pretty cool/funny, depending on how I tell it), I had an allergic reaction to a hornet sting and went into anaphylactic shock. If I had arrived at the med center ten minutes later, I probably would have made frog noises. But ever since that instance, I have thought about death differently. First, I view death in a better light. Death is just a door, and for a Christian that's good news; it's the finish line. I'm fine whether I have vital signs or not. But second, I figure that if I'm still alive, God must have a reason for it, whatever that is.
Everyone wants to feel important. Everyone wants to feel special. Maybe that's what this is. Maybe my ego has a Messiah complex and thinks I'm going to save the world. Maybe my feeling is right. But maybe it's not. Maybe I'll just be an average guy who makes an average impact on the world and lives around him. Either way, that's okay. I'm just excited to see what God has for me in the future.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Knowledge Versus Belief (Part 2 of the Rapid Fire)
One of the things Rene Descartes (possibly my favorite philosopher) is known for is coining the phrase, "I think; therefore, I am." He went into seclusion until he could prove that the world was real. He eventually came out, using this reasoning: I think; therefore, I exist. I cannot create the universe; therefore, there must be a God. God is good and He wouldn't trick us (a sneaky little trick - that assumes God is good); therefore, this world is real.
What I like about Descartes is the way he questioned reality; he took nothing for granted. He started with doubt.
It's this sort of philosophy that has made the statement, "You can't even know that the chair you sit on is real." I have heard Christians criticize this way of thinking as foolish. But I totally disagree and am slightly insulted; extremely intelligent people thought like that. And they were right.
If knowledge is defined as being completely and objectively certain through the use of flawless logic and irrefutable evidence, then there is no way to know that this world exists. You could very well be living in a world of your subconscious's creation. In fact (and other Christians will cringe when I say this), but there is no completely objective way to know that God exists. We can't be sure that there is a God. Any "evidence" you have that supports this could be a figment of your subconscious, or a lie handed to you by some being looking to deceive you.
People might freak out at this, but it's actually a very good thing. It's a good thing because it emphasizes even more the importance of faith. We live in a world in which we make many assumptions, simply to navigate reality. We sit believing the chair will hold us. We speak, believing the people who hear us are real. We pray, believing God is real and hears us. This may sound like heresy, but it's not. It is vitally important to realize that nothing you can do, none of the evidence you collect, can prove the existence of God. It's a matter of faith. If we can see that we need faith simply to live our lives, we can appreciate more fully the role faith has in our relationship with God. We choose, out of all the alternatives, to believe that the world is real, God is real, and His sacrifice was extremely real. We believe it, but we can't know it. Unless we redefine knowledge.
I read a book in Philosophy called Longing to Know. The woman who wrote the book compared "knowing" (mainly knowing that God is real) to getting to know and trust her mechanic. She de-emphasized evidence and facts, and instead highlighted the importance of trust and experience. Ultimately, knowing is a matter of belief.
I can't know that God exists. But I choose to believe in Him and His existence and goodness. Because, ultimately, I belief will be shown to be well-placed.
What I like about Descartes is the way he questioned reality; he took nothing for granted. He started with doubt.
It's this sort of philosophy that has made the statement, "You can't even know that the chair you sit on is real." I have heard Christians criticize this way of thinking as foolish. But I totally disagree and am slightly insulted; extremely intelligent people thought like that. And they were right.
If knowledge is defined as being completely and objectively certain through the use of flawless logic and irrefutable evidence, then there is no way to know that this world exists. You could very well be living in a world of your subconscious's creation. In fact (and other Christians will cringe when I say this), but there is no completely objective way to know that God exists. We can't be sure that there is a God. Any "evidence" you have that supports this could be a figment of your subconscious, or a lie handed to you by some being looking to deceive you.
People might freak out at this, but it's actually a very good thing. It's a good thing because it emphasizes even more the importance of faith. We live in a world in which we make many assumptions, simply to navigate reality. We sit believing the chair will hold us. We speak, believing the people who hear us are real. We pray, believing God is real and hears us. This may sound like heresy, but it's not. It is vitally important to realize that nothing you can do, none of the evidence you collect, can prove the existence of God. It's a matter of faith. If we can see that we need faith simply to live our lives, we can appreciate more fully the role faith has in our relationship with God. We choose, out of all the alternatives, to believe that the world is real, God is real, and His sacrifice was extremely real. We believe it, but we can't know it. Unless we redefine knowledge.
I read a book in Philosophy called Longing to Know. The woman who wrote the book compared "knowing" (mainly knowing that God is real) to getting to know and trust her mechanic. She de-emphasized evidence and facts, and instead highlighted the importance of trust and experience. Ultimately, knowing is a matter of belief.
I can't know that God exists. But I choose to believe in Him and His existence and goodness. Because, ultimately, I belief will be shown to be well-placed.
Indirectly Objective (Part 1 of the Rapid Fire)
Bias. It's there. And if we want to be fair, we try to avoid it. But what's with the push for objectivity? It's to put oneself aside and make the right decision, yes. But why? Why does it matter all that much? In my opinion, it gets to the very heart of our ambitions.
To be objective is to avoid bias, and a bias would be a conflict of interest. Bias is a flaw. So, to attempt to be objective is to admit something: I am not perfect. I make mistakes. My decisions aren't always right. Objectivity, then, is this: The counteraction of imperfection, especially in decisions. The objective of objectivity, in this light, reflects a sort of Platonic pursuit. Man tries to reach the form.
This is not always true, of course. People don't always attempt to be objective. But in this, they embrace a sort of selfishness that neglects such a pursuit of the form. But those who do understand that, in order to get closer to the ideal man or woman, they must cast off the things that cloud their judgment.
The problem with the pursuit objectivity is this: True objectivity doesn't exist. There isn't an instant in which a man can be completely objective, because he lives in this world. And living in this world causes his logic to be influenced by numerous factors. Because of this, two people who have absolutely no stake in a situation can come to two different conclusions regarding an action that must be taken. This is why a jury often argues amongst itself, as well as why it is made of more than one person. Objectivity cannot be achieved.
This doesn't mean that one shouldn't try, of course. Objectivity is still a noble pursuit. It whisks away a few of the clouds that have been cast over our judgment. It's still an attempt to counteract imperfection. But it is important to realize the limits of this pursuit. A belief that one is completely objective assures him or her that the surface under him or her is solid, when in fact it is not. This realization forces one to question his judgment, to check the ground. Because, we live in a subjective world where we make subjective choices.
There is one more thing regarding objectivity: I don't believe God is objective. Why would He be? If objectivity is an attempt to counteract imperfection and flawed judgment, God has no use for it. He is able to make decisions with complete bias and interest and make the right--the perfect--decision.
Objectivity is a myth, but one worth pursuing. It is our calling to pursue Perfection.
To be objective is to avoid bias, and a bias would be a conflict of interest. Bias is a flaw. So, to attempt to be objective is to admit something: I am not perfect. I make mistakes. My decisions aren't always right. Objectivity, then, is this: The counteraction of imperfection, especially in decisions. The objective of objectivity, in this light, reflects a sort of Platonic pursuit. Man tries to reach the form.
This is not always true, of course. People don't always attempt to be objective. But in this, they embrace a sort of selfishness that neglects such a pursuit of the form. But those who do understand that, in order to get closer to the ideal man or woman, they must cast off the things that cloud their judgment.
The problem with the pursuit objectivity is this: True objectivity doesn't exist. There isn't an instant in which a man can be completely objective, because he lives in this world. And living in this world causes his logic to be influenced by numerous factors. Because of this, two people who have absolutely no stake in a situation can come to two different conclusions regarding an action that must be taken. This is why a jury often argues amongst itself, as well as why it is made of more than one person. Objectivity cannot be achieved.
This doesn't mean that one shouldn't try, of course. Objectivity is still a noble pursuit. It whisks away a few of the clouds that have been cast over our judgment. It's still an attempt to counteract imperfection. But it is important to realize the limits of this pursuit. A belief that one is completely objective assures him or her that the surface under him or her is solid, when in fact it is not. This realization forces one to question his judgment, to check the ground. Because, we live in a subjective world where we make subjective choices.
There is one more thing regarding objectivity: I don't believe God is objective. Why would He be? If objectivity is an attempt to counteract imperfection and flawed judgment, God has no use for it. He is able to make decisions with complete bias and interest and make the right--the perfect--decision.
Objectivity is a myth, but one worth pursuing. It is our calling to pursue Perfection.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
A Salute to Stevens
You're not officially a Cornerstone student until you've developed an irrational excessive admiration for one of your professors. For some, it's B-Shak. For others, it's VanDyke. Personally, I think Stevens is the man. Here's why:
A. Stevens is a genius.
One characteristic I value is the ability to think abstractly. Stevens invented that, I'm pretty sure. In one of his classes, you're sure to learn and develop insanely if you choose to be attentive. The way he draws connections, the way he conveys ideas--it speaks of his intelligence. I took Writing in Culture with him, and I learned very little about writing, but I learned soooo much just hearing him rant and rave, stuck on another rabbit trail.
B. Stevens is crazy.
Certifiable. It's fantastic. Sit through one of his rants or watch him throw a chair. Or a bible. Or a marker. He'll throw pretty much anything. You can see in his eyes that he could snap at any moment. In a good way, of course.
C. Smoking cat.
D. Stevens is passionate.
When the guy feels strongly about something, you know it. He's filled with pathos. Whether he's for or against something, his opinion is clear (although he never forces his views on you as if you must agree). The Red Light District sex trade is crap. Technology often enslaves us. Michael W. Smith really doesn't sound all that great. His arguments are compelling, and you're left sitting in your chair, wanting to agree with him.
E. Stevens is a huge part of why I'm me.
Something about Stevens--something about that class--changed a lot about the way I think, the way I view things. I think for myself, even more than I did before that class. I can appreciate that profanity can be used to communicate with precision. I am wary of what technology does to us (as I write on my blog at 1:44am). I don't know--I just figure he'll be one of those people that I will think of as formative in my life.
Helter-skelter. Uneven. No flow. That's what this entry was. But hey--it's the Stevens way, right?
F. Stevens reminds me of Mel Gibson.
A. Stevens is a genius.
One characteristic I value is the ability to think abstractly. Stevens invented that, I'm pretty sure. In one of his classes, you're sure to learn and develop insanely if you choose to be attentive. The way he draws connections, the way he conveys ideas--it speaks of his intelligence. I took Writing in Culture with him, and I learned very little about writing, but I learned soooo much just hearing him rant and rave, stuck on another rabbit trail.
B. Stevens is crazy.
Certifiable. It's fantastic. Sit through one of his rants or watch him throw a chair. Or a bible. Or a marker. He'll throw pretty much anything. You can see in his eyes that he could snap at any moment. In a good way, of course.
C. Smoking cat.
D. Stevens is passionate.
When the guy feels strongly about something, you know it. He's filled with pathos. Whether he's for or against something, his opinion is clear (although he never forces his views on you as if you must agree). The Red Light District sex trade is crap. Technology often enslaves us. Michael W. Smith really doesn't sound all that great. His arguments are compelling, and you're left sitting in your chair, wanting to agree with him.
E. Stevens is a huge part of why I'm me.
Something about Stevens--something about that class--changed a lot about the way I think, the way I view things. I think for myself, even more than I did before that class. I can appreciate that profanity can be used to communicate with precision. I am wary of what technology does to us (as I write on my blog at 1:44am). I don't know--I just figure he'll be one of those people that I will think of as formative in my life.
Helter-skelter. Uneven. No flow. That's what this entry was. But hey--it's the Stevens way, right?
F. Stevens reminds me of Mel Gibson.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The Future
One <---(I wrote that word and got distracted. Now, I have no idea what I was going to say. But I'll leave it there, in case I remember.)
Oh, now I remember. One of my strengths in StrengthsFinder is 'Futuristic.' While I think it's a slightly pathetic strength, it fits me quite well. Often I catch myself staring into the distance, devising scenario upon scenario, imagining possibilities; I don't always live in the present. The future has always captivated me and my imagination. Time, in general, has always done that to me. It makes me muse.
The concept of 'the future' puts things into perspective. Life is fleeting, "a vapor" as someone in the Bible puts it. (I think it's Jesus; I'll have to look it up.) From time to time I look at the world as if I looked through the mind's eye of my future self, fondly reminiscing days gone by, people long since departed from my life. "Where will life take me? Who will I meet? What will I be? When will I die?" These are questions that send me into reverie.
See, this changes how you view... well, anything. Every person, every activity shapes your future self, for better or for worse. It's a terribly conceited thing, but I look at a person and think, "In what way will you shape my story, my future? What will I remember years from now when I think of you?" It's part of the reason I think I'll never marry. I can't form a mental image of myself with anyone. Which is exactly the wrong approach to that, but whatever.
I imagine the future will hold many wonderful things for me, but for now I can't just dream of it. It's the unknown, to everyone "the final frontier." In this way, we are all adventurers. So, I boldly go where no one has gone before.
Oh, now I remember. One of my strengths in StrengthsFinder is 'Futuristic.' While I think it's a slightly pathetic strength, it fits me quite well. Often I catch myself staring into the distance, devising scenario upon scenario, imagining possibilities; I don't always live in the present. The future has always captivated me and my imagination. Time, in general, has always done that to me. It makes me muse.
The concept of 'the future' puts things into perspective. Life is fleeting, "a vapor" as someone in the Bible puts it. (I think it's Jesus; I'll have to look it up.) From time to time I look at the world as if I looked through the mind's eye of my future self, fondly reminiscing days gone by, people long since departed from my life. "Where will life take me? Who will I meet? What will I be? When will I die?" These are questions that send me into reverie.
See, this changes how you view... well, anything. Every person, every activity shapes your future self, for better or for worse. It's a terribly conceited thing, but I look at a person and think, "In what way will you shape my story, my future? What will I remember years from now when I think of you?" It's part of the reason I think I'll never marry. I can't form a mental image of myself with anyone. Which is exactly the wrong approach to that, but whatever.
I imagine the future will hold many wonderful things for me, but for now I can't just dream of it. It's the unknown, to everyone "the final frontier." In this way, we are all adventurers. So, I boldly go where no one has gone before.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
The AAABBBCCC's
Absolutely all atrocious alligators buy bright bowling balls 'cause cranky crocodiles call constantly. Dear Desiree, dial Doctor Dreyfus. Every elephant emits electrical emotions for feeling fantastic fiery fingers. Gorgeous, goofy girl gorillas guess how hilarious hippos horrify imps inside incredibly itchy igloos. Jolly jellyfish jokingly juggle kicking kangaroos. Kittens kinda like licking luscious lollipops minding multiple microwave munchies. Never, never, never, never operate on overly opulent orangutans. Potentially, purchasing pale purple paper quickly quiets queer qualms. Raising red roses requires really safe security sensors scattered scandalously. Two terrible toddlers tentatively totter toward twenty unbelievably ugly umpires under vicious vampire Valentine valances. Why would whiny white wusses want Xavier's xenophobic xylophones? Yesterday, YouTube yokels yelled "You're yucky!" Zany zoo zealots zap zebras.
Now I've said my ABC's... and I'll never do it again.
Now I've said my ABC's... and I'll never do it again.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Cynical
There are times when I just can't stand the way the world can be. Where I look at things and know it's just not right. I was listening to a Rooster Teeth podcast (a nerd thing, I admit), and they talked about that mom that, because of a falling-out between her daughter and the daughter's friend, set up a fake facebook account as some boy. To get back at the friend, she started a "relationship" with the girl that lasted for about a year before the mother tore the poor girl's world apart. The girl ended up killing herself because of it. As these guys said, "That was a c*** move. No, that was more than a c*** move. That was f***ing evil."
It's stuff like that that turns me into a hardcore cynic. Like when I visited the Flossenberg concentration camp in Germany. It made me think. It made me stew. How could someone do something like that to another? Mankind is screwed up. To kill someone, to make someone feel like they're worthless -- it's awful. Without God's intervention, we're screwed.
But then I look at the Christian community, and it's just as messed up! You've got "Christians" who do nothing to separate themselves through their actions--heck, half the time we look even worse. We're supposed to be a unity body of Christ, but all I see are dismembered limbs. It's in times like this that I long for America to persecute the American church. For something big enough to happen in our lives to see that all our differences are petty pieces of crap.
A couple people posted this link on facebook, which brought on my cynical state. Then there's that Kansan church that picketed Betty Ford's funeral. Classy. At what point is that cool? To cause so much division where there should be unity? To hate your brother? Jesus said to call your brother "fool" was tantamount to murder. So why do we ignore him? To be honest, God's the only thing that makes me want to stay a Christian. WhatThe church (.org, I guess) sure isn't doing much to help. I might as well hang out with friends who don't stab each other in the back.
But then there are times that bring me back to the good of the Church, where I see the Body as it should be. It's the simple things, too. Playing ultimate frisbee, watching a movie, discussing philosophy, talking -- I see the way it should be. So, for a second, my cynical vision is altered by the lens of how it could be. And I endure how it is.
It's stuff like that that turns me into a hardcore cynic. Like when I visited the Flossenberg concentration camp in Germany. It made me think. It made me stew. How could someone do something like that to another? Mankind is screwed up. To kill someone, to make someone feel like they're worthless -- it's awful. Without God's intervention, we're screwed.
But then I look at the Christian community, and it's just as messed up! You've got "Christians" who do nothing to separate themselves through their actions--heck, half the time we look even worse. We're supposed to be a unity body of Christ, but all I see are dismembered limbs. It's in times like this that I long for America to persecute the American church. For something big enough to happen in our lives to see that all our differences are petty pieces of crap.
A couple people posted this link on facebook, which brought on my cynical state. Then there's that Kansan church that picketed Betty Ford's funeral. Classy. At what point is that cool? To cause so much division where there should be unity? To hate your brother? Jesus said to call your brother "fool" was tantamount to murder. So why do we ignore him? To be honest, God's the only thing that makes me want to stay a Christian. WhatThe church (.org, I guess) sure isn't doing much to help. I might as well hang out with friends who don't stab each other in the back.
But then there are times that bring me back to the good of the Church, where I see the Body as it should be. It's the simple things, too. Playing ultimate frisbee, watching a movie, discussing philosophy, talking -- I see the way it should be. So, for a second, my cynical vision is altered by the lens of how it could be. And I endure how it is.
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