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gospelmind

You know you're in San Francisco when...

       

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Posted February 6, 2010
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On Self and Soul

"In our current culture, 'soul' has given way to 'self' as the term of choice to designate who and what we are. Self is the soul minus God. Self is what is left of soul with all the transcendence and intimacy squeezed out, the self with little or no reference to God (transcendence) or others (intimacy)."
—Eugene Peterson, "Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places"

There is a startling shift in the way we see ourselves in relation to the world at the end of the medieval age. It is a complex process which writers like Charles Taylor have tried to trace (his magisterial "Sources of the Self" is a sprawling work with fingers working into every corner of Western civilization). However it came about, "soul" gave way to "self." And there is much more in that shift than a simple secularization, a step away from God.

As medieval philosophy gave way to Enlightenment thought, the individual human agent became the center of all meaning. The self—an isolated subject, a single mind looking out through the tunnel of his senses—gathered perceptions, made sense of them, constructed in his mind an image of the world, etc. He assigned words to the images, gave them meaning by identifying them.

It did not take long for an ugly problem to raise its head: how could the self ever be sure that he was seeing what was really there? The fact that we can make mistakes, be deceived, haunts modern philosophy. If we are selves—radically individual, alone in our minds looking out on a world that is entirely other—how can we "check" what we are perceiving with what is really there?

This gives rise to a pile of hypothetical situations which the self can't handle. What if you are, in fact, a brain in a vat, being stimulated by electrodes? What if this is, actually, the Matrix? A question which makes sophomore philosophy students wild with excitement.

The problem with the self is solipsism—the chance that you might, in fact, be the only real person, or at least you can never actually connect with others. You are radically, entirely, alone. Because you can never step out of your "self" to check, to know, that any one is really there at all.

The fact that this problem comes up is not a fault of our human existence. It is a signpost that we have articulate our experience badly. "Self" does not do the job. Rule one in philosophy: when your abstract hypothesis forces you to make silly conclusions that contradict everything you knew before you started doing philosophy, ditch the hypothesis. Start over.

"Soul," as Eugene Peterson points out, neatly sidesteps the problem of solipsism. "Our core identity comes out as persons-in-relationship... 'Soul is a word reverberating with relationships: God-relationships, human-relationships, earth-relationships."

To reclaim the term "soul" is not just to inject God back into our discourse. It is a sensible move, philosophically speaking. One cannot speak of "soul" without overtones of relationship to something Other than the self—something outside, which cannot be reduced away. A soul cannot be alone; its very breath is given by God.

I want to point out that the shift between "soul" and "self" is not neutral; it is morally charged. To be a "self" is an assertion of radical independence and freedom. The self is defined in contradistinction to an Other who would try to limit it; the self is the locus of Rights, and must be defended. It is inevitable that the self with eventually claim the ability to define what is right and what is wrong.

To be a "soul" is to admit, from the start, dependence. A soul receives life from the outside, and with it a responsibility. Souls must come to understand what has been given them and their place in a greater whole. They must accept the bounds drawn for them, because relationship always includes limitation. To be in relationship in, inescapably, to yield and let go of control.

There is something attractive to us in "selfhood"—that radical freedom and Right and independence. But it comes with a cost. The self can never enter true relationships; it remains forever bounded from the Other, protecting its precious freedom.

To be a soul comes at the price of self-definition and independence; but one gains intimacy, knowing and being known, harmonious engagement with the Other.

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Posted January 25, 2010
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Christmas is here—still

I stepped into one of our (many) local Starbucks today to enjoy a cup of coffee courtesy of my family. Giftcards for coffee are always a winner with me. It took me a moment to recognize why it looked sparse inside the cafe; after a pause I realized that nary a Christmas decoration remained to be seen.

Now, given that their religiously-neutral red-and-white snowy winterscapes had been up since Halloween, I understand. And anyway, this week America lies sprawling in the wake of buyer's remorse, sugar- headaches and the melancholy that accompanies getting your cake, eating it, and feeling rather ill afterwards. (My friend Steve commented today, "All I want to eat is fruit. No more chocolate!")

All the same, as far as the church calendar is concerned, Christmas is only started. For centuries, Christmas was a season. Lasting 12 days, from the Feast of the Nativity on the 25th (Christ's mass), until Epiphany on the 6th of January, the church recognized that meditating on the incarnation was too big a job for one day. Advent prepared us, turning our longing toward the presence of God—and now is the season to rejoice! Emmanuel—God with us—has indeed come.

So this year I am celebrating still. My advent wreath is lit each night (the first candle is getting perilously low), the tree is glittering in the window and I am unabashedly playing my Christmas music in the car. But more: I am trying to ponder the mystery of the entrance of God into this world as one of us.

Luke tells us of Mary's quiet pondering, treasuring up all the wonder surrounding the birth of her Son and meditating on them within her heart. She is our guide in this season—a time to continue on in quiet, rapt wonder of our God.

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Posted December 28, 2009
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Home for Christmas

                     
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Posted December 21, 2009
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Advent, Sin and Attention

Most forms of Christian practice devolve, over time, into a system of sin management. What begins with passion for the felt presence of Jesus, shifts. Generally we become aware of how our sin pulls us into guilt and shame, and makes us lose the sense of closeness to God we had so enjoyed. So, with the primary intent of drawing close to God, we buckle down against our sinfulness. But our eyes are now on us, and the self (to use Plato's imagery) is a burning fire, bright and attractive and even magnetic. Once we attend to ourselves it is very difficult to pry ourselves away. We find ourselves infinitely interesting—even if self-absorption is also stifling and reductive. Eyes on self, our desire for Jesus wanes and wanes and we are left at last win only a terror of sin and enslaved to our need to be better than we are.

Advent is a season to break out of this cycle. We are reminded of the many, many texts in the New Testament that promise freedom from sin ONLY at the return of Christ. It is inevitable; but we are to wait patiently, even with groaning. (See Phil 1:6, Romans 8, 1 John 3:1-3, Colossians 3:1-4.)

Essentially, Advent is a time to remember the other half of the Gospel —that Jesus is returning to restore and recreate and heal. And the effect of this, strangely, is to free us more from sin now. Because if our hope is certain that we are both forgiven AND made new, and that we await only the revealing of who we are NOW in Christ, then and only then can we get our eyes off ourselves. My sin or lack of it is no longer the issue. I am reconciled to God so that I can turn my eyes to Him, boldly and with joy—not so that I can leave them fixed on myself.

And this means we are free to love. So long as we remain obsessed with self, our "love" is only a reflection of self. We will treasure those people and things that make us feel worthwhile. But if we are assured of God's love and presence—as only the full Gospel can assure us— then we are fully free to begin paying attention to the things around us. We can look attentively at God, at the creation, at others, with loving regard.

It is a terrible shame when the Gospel is forgotten among Christians because it is then tha we become self-absorbed and ignore the needs around us; and our lives become as stuffy and stale as a room without windows or fresh air. The Gospel opens the door, airs out our lives with the Fresh breeze of the Spirit and love, draws back the curtains and lets us look outside. All because we need not be concerned with our selves. We are freed from the magnetic pull of self to the far greater pull toward God, who is not only a fire but a Sun.

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Posted December 18, 2009
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Advent week 3

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Posted December 14, 2009
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Abby's birthday

         
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Posted December 12, 2009
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Advent and Idolatry

A good post here about Advent—have we become idolatrous in our celebration of Christmas? Are we bowing down in worship and expectation of Christ, or before the throne of commercialism and empire?

I expect this is not an either-or for most Christians. It is not a matter of outright rejecting the giving of gifts or enjoying our American traditions associated with Christmas. But how can we recapture them as worship of Christ?

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Posted December 11, 2009
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Advent songs

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Silent nights, chestnuts roasting on open fires, bleak midwinter and silver bells.

Trick is, it's not Christmas. It's Advent. Our culture has rushed us into a premature Christmas fixation, mostly because it sells things.

 

Real conversation between myself and Caleb Porter, Aaron's son, well before Thankgiving:

Caleb: Why does that store already have Christmas decorations? It's not even Thanksgiving!

Ben: Because they want your money, Caleb.

Caleb: Oh...

 

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not against Christmas music, so long as it's played between the Friday after Thanksgiving and January 6 (Epiphany). But what does frustrate me is how we've forgotten Advent songs.

Why does this concern me? Well, mainly because Advent songs give voice to the longing and need for Christ that I've been discussing over the past few posts. Christmas songs rejoice in fulfillment; Advent songs look toward what is still unfulfilled. We need both.

So, in an effort to promote Advent celebration everywhere, here is a list of some of my favorite Advent hymns, and links to newer recordings of them. Enjoy!

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Posted December 4, 2009
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Advent and the end of all things

For someone who grew up with Advent as simply 4 more weeks of Christmas, the readings in the Common Lectionary can be somewhat surprising. The Lectionary provides an order of readings for Sundays, used by many denominations—Lutheran, Episcopal, Methodist, Presbyterian, Catholic, etc. It reflects the church seasons, and the choice of texts for each week is one of the primary ways that many Christians interact with the church calendar.

So when Advent comes along and the readings are about the end of the world, that can be a bit odd.

Advent is not simply a longer span of time to enjoy eggnog lattes, Silent Night and Christmas trees. (Though I do enjoy those, a lot.) It's also a time for us to fix our hope and longing on Christ's return.

As I said yesterday, Advent lets us speak our longing openly and plainly, by helping us fix it on Christ. One way this season does that is by reminding us that all the things around us are going to fade away.

We know very little about what it will be like when Christ returns—but we do know that it will be very different. So different that the things which obsess and worry us now will not even be on the radar.

Advent is a time to breathe deeply, and remember that the Gospel frees us not only from our sins but from our fears and fixations as well.

We take to heart the words of the apostle John:

15 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. 17 And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever. 

1 John 2:15-17

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Filed under  //   Advent  
Posted December 4, 2009
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