Of Memes and Knownos

Meme. Now where have I heard that term? Richard Dawkins! Now how did he end up in our little blogosphere? When I first read Christianne’s email, I knew that word sounded familiar, but it didn’t ring a bell because I was thinking in blog terms. Although Dawkins is obviously brilliant, I can’t say that I’m a big fan of his – for a number of reasons. But that’s not the point of all this, now is it? (I’m just mad at Dawkins because following these 1-2-3 directions is gonna make me look like a complete nerd. In my defense, I have not finished this book yet.) I would’ve rather talked about the “knowno” in reference to the ontological argument, than do a “meme.” But that’s another blog I suppose, and well, I don’t always get my way. Guess I gotta follow the rules? By the way, Di, I took that little test about my will-power disposition. Ummm . . . don’t ask.

On to the matter at hand. The book that was sitting closest to me as I read Christianne’s email and blog was Jay Richards’ The Untamed God. The fifth sentence reads, “Thomist scholars have vociferously denied that theirs is a view of God and creation commonly participating in a third reality, being.”

At this point you’re riveted right?

It gets better.

I guess the next three lines are what I’m really supposed to be putting up, huh? Richards continues, “An investigation of Thomas’s Summa Theologica justifies their complaint. Thomas’s view is essentially that of Quenstedt’s, whereby all things that have being derive it from the primary being of God. God is the basis of all being.”

Does everyone feel as edified as I do? Gotcha sitting on the edge of your seats, huh?

I’m being unkind and unfair to Richards. It is and interesting book, but reading it is like swimming in molasses. It might be sweet, but it is exceedingly sticky and thick.

I might do better on the next meme category. But that will take more time for me to consider and write about. Let me just post the 1-2-3 meme for now.

Christianne, I really like Chaim Potok’s work. Also, I’ve been wanting to check out Blue Like Jazz. (But I will put that up for question #9; let me not get ahead of myself.)

Almost forgot. I tag:

Tammy

Clayton

Andrea

Shriyaa

Di

Do You Feel Me?

“Do you feel me?” I’ve always had some strange attraction towards words – especially the hidden meaning behind them. It’s rarely been enough for me to just let them hang in the air without reflection or analysis. Do you feel me? is no exception. Why do people say that? Why do I say that? Why not just ask, “Do you understand what I mean?”

Today’s blog has been inspired by some new friends I made today: Terri, Di, Christianne, and Chloe. That’s four, count ‘em 4!, friends in twenty-four hours. That’s gotta be some kind of record. Uncovering these new friends has helped me better understand that question about Do you feel me? in a way that I don’t think could’ve been done otherwise. [By the way, Hi guys. (Hope I can call you ‘guys’ cause it’s kosher where I grew up). Thanks for all of the kind words; they helped.]

People want to be more than understood; they want to be felt. There is some legitimate nuance of meaning here. It might be best understood by contrasting the subtle differences between sympathy and empathy. For me, sympathy means you can visualize with great intensity the feelings and experiences of another; empathy means you have actually experienced and shared the feelings and experiences of another. It’s the difference between watching on television an exhausted Olympic marathoner desperately throw herself across the finish line, completely exsanguinated of energy, and actually running one yourself and having to care for your blistered feet and tattered carcass afterwards. On paper the definitions seem subtle, but in real life, they are painfully palpable.

A person who really feels you literally shares your pathos, those intensely deep feelings that encompass our joys and pains; our losses and gains; our ups and downs; our smiles and frowns. A person who feels you is also one who shares your passions – whether that be reading, writing, music or teaching. It could be the passion you feel when you warmly embrace your child or the passion you feel when you are tightly held by your significant other. If it is shared, it’s called compassion. Compassion literally means to share passion!

I think we all desire this kind of shared intimacy: empathy and compassion. We unconsciously seek it out, and we do so desperately when we feel alone and disheartened. Maybe that’s how I met my new friends? I wanted someone to feel me. And from what I read on their blogs, I felt that they might just have that capacity.

Can I get Biblical for a minute? I don’t do it much anymore because I feel so distant from God, but I’d like to give it a whirl for just a minute. Do you know why I’m a Christian (albeit backslidden)? I know there are a number of reasons I could give, but at the top of the list would be that God can feel me and I can touch Him. And that is only possible because of the Person of Jesus Christ.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tested in every way as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15). Jesus is that High Priest. The Greek word sumpatheo is translated sympathize but carries the force of empathize. It is a shared, fellow feeling. It is because Jesus can genuinely feel my pains and temptations that I am a Christian. A God that is so ethereal that He cannot touch me, nor be touched by me, offers little practical help or hope to me. I could find a deity like that in a number of other religions. Yes, an ethereal, impassible God like that might look good on theological/philosophical paper, but when life is painfully palpable, that “perfection” (if it could be construed that way) is utterly alienating, completely irrelevant, and almost certainly unconcerned with my needs. Doesn’t sound very loving, does it?

But God’s not like that. We know this because Jesus, God in flesh, is as palpable as the pain we experience. He, Himself, experienced this pain. He ran the marathon, and He felt the agonies of temptations and rejections, yet without sinning. Why do we create such an artificial ceiling between us and God? To be sure, God is holy and transcendent, and we have to be careful that we don’t, in self-deceptive pride, diminish His greatness, perfection and holiness in our minds (I think this is what Barth feared and reacted to accordingly). But if God was ever impassible, then Jesus Christ punctured holes into His floor/our ceiling of impassibility by becoming human. God can now be touched! In fact, it is the man, Christ Jesus who is continually making intercession on our behalf, precisely because He is so intimately acquainted with our pathos and shares our pains and passions. “For there is one God and one mediator between God and man, a man, Christ Jesus . . . Therefore He is always able to save those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to intercede for them” (1 Tim 2:5; Heb 7:25).

And did I mention He is full compassion? And because He shares our passions, it moves Him to do many things – intercession and healing to name just a couple. Somehow we have created this rigid, emotionless God completely devoid of compassion. He never really responds to anything. He is just pure action; a self-absorbed unmoved mover. And if per chance He does respond, it is only because of faith or some other manipulative “blessing lever” we can pull. But that is not how the Bible depicts God, certainly not in the Person of Jesus. “Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes. Immediately they could see, and they followed Him” (Matt 20:34). And there are other examples where Jesus did something, not because of anyone’s faith (although He certainly responds to that as well), but because He is compassionate. God is more concerned with compassion than any religious levers we can pull. "But go and learn what this means: 'I DESIRE COMPASSION, AND NOT SACRIFICE,' for I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners . . . But if you had known what this means, 'I DESIRE COMPASSION, AND NOT A SACRIFICE,' you would not have condemned the innocent” (Matt 9:13; 12:7). You could literally go on ad nauseum with Biblical examples of compassion. Just do a simple word search.

There’s something to this empathy and compassion thing. Old Testament prophets were able to tap into the pathos of the people through poetry, orations and other writings. They even illustrated these things by acting them out in dramatic ways at times. They did this because they wanted to correct social injustices and inequities, and because they knew that things like poetry and music can connect with people in a way that mere speech making cannot. The arts are many times subversive (literally, below the word). It is a way of injecting deep feeling into the hearts of people who otherwise would not receive anything. Today, music is a good example of this. It taps into our pathos. It moves our passions. And our passions move us. And when we share those passions – have compassion – a dynamic, potent force is generated that brings transformation. On a vertical dimension, we have that in Jesus. We have it in the Holy Spirit as He comes along side us and shares our burdens as the Parakletos. And on a horizontal plane, we have that in each other, as members of the same Body and through our shared experiences as humans. We can empathize and we can be compassionate. And through our passionate, subversive words – our poetry and stories – we can convey that life to people who desperately need it, and yet consciously are not willing to hear it. We can move beyond understanding someone’s needs and actually feel those needs.

Let me step away from the cyber-pulpit. Sorry, I feel a lot of passion about this subject. What I am trying to say is that I am grateful for a God who shares my passions, and I am grateful that He brought four new friends into my life to share those passions with me. Do you feel me?

∞∞∞ The Sum of Love is 8 ∞∞∞

∞∞∞

The sum of “I love you” is 8. That’s right. Not many people know this. I can only think of two who really know this strange mathematical phenomenon – me included. As kids we used to say I love you in code by writing 1-4-3. Each numeral represented the number of letters in each word of the phrase. We thought we were crafty. But we really didn’t know much about love, not really.

As my love matured, I reverted to this childlike method of communication. Maybe there was a need to talk in code, but honestly, it was because I came to a deeper understanding of love. In my "greater sophistication," I totaled the three numbers and would simply type or say, “8.” I have only used this expression with one person, and that is the way it will remain – always & forever. At times, 8 failed to be genuine love, but most of the time it was true to form. Today, it challenges me, because as I studied this numeral, I realized that if it is read backwards or upside down, it is still 8. That's the way true love works. No matter how you slice or dice it; it remains constant.

Even more profound was that fact that when turned sideways, it succinctly demonstrates the true nature of love: infinity. Someone used to tell me, “I love you times infinity.” This was the only way of conveying the force of this feeling I suppose. Love isn't simply constant; it is also infinite.

∞ best represents the nature of God: love. Every time I type the number 8, I am reminded about the love of God. For me, the number says, “I love you unconditionally – always & forever – times infinity.” It says that in just one character! And while I know this is probably not amazing to anyone but me, I am completely enamored by this numerical concept.

Every chance I get, being careful not to wear it out, I will insert this one number to remind my friend of how much I care. And each time I use it, God reminds me of how much He cares. When I was a kid, almost a baby really, there was a television show that aired titled, "Eight Is Enough." I am one of eight children, so the title of the show always stuck with me. And despite this all sounding like numerical nonsense, I have come to realize and embrace -- at least when it comes to love -- that 8 is enough.

8,

Nathan

∞∞∞

Like My Next Breath . . .

It’s been about a month since my last blog. I am trying to be consistent in posting one each month. The one I am going to share with you today is extremely personal. I am a little nervous about letting others in on the thoughts of my heart; I felt this personal letter was appropriate since recently God has been convicting me about how I have allowed the enemy and circumstances strain and fracture some very important friendships. Let me set this up:

A few years ago a friend of mine was going through a lot of stuff. He felt like his life had come to a standstill, no one truly loved him, and was talking about suicide. He is like a brother to me and was often a source of comfort and confidence. We used to chat and talk for hours about the things of God. We talked about God’s hesed – that unfailing love that God offers to us, even when we’re unfaithful. It is the kind of love that remains “covenantally” committed even when we are not. The book of Hosea depicts this succinctly. We also talked about how unusual it was for two unrelated languages – Hebrew and Greek – to have words – ruach and pneuma – that could each mean three things: spirit, wind, or breath. In other words, the Old Testament and the New Testament each have a different word that has precisely the same meaning and number of meanings. This is extremely strange when you consider these languages are not from the same linguistic family. For me, it testifies to the unified voice of the Bible. We discussed many of these things as he was preparing for his first sermon and wanted my input. I was so honored and humbled to be a small part of that.

I have said all of this so that you can understand what is going on at times in this letter. My friend definitely understood it because we talked about it often. You see, inspiration, is simply to breathe in or inhale. Remember breath, wind, or spirit can be meant by this term in the Biblical languages. My friend and I talked about how God breathes life into us and how important it is for us to receive this. We must breathe His life in! The following letter was just a reminder at a time when he felt like circumstances were suffocating him. We often closed our communications with a familiar phrase: (I love you) Like My Next Breath . . .


My Dearest Brother….

I lack the ability to convey the warmth I feel in my heart towards you – the fondness, the utter love. You have been a constant source of strength and encouragement to my life; I only hope that perhaps now, I can be a fraction of that to you. You broke down walls in my life that I did not even know existed. The story of your life so pierced me that since that day, my life has been profoundly and irrevocably changed. The mere thought of you stirs my heart with hope and a passion for living. You inspire me . . . literally breathe life into the lungs of my soul. From our very first conversation, I knew that I had met someone with whom I would be a life long friend. And it is a true saying that friendships are forged in the fires of adversity. And this fire has truly crafted something that the gates of hell will not prevail against.

It is easy for one to grow weary after being tossed about on the harsh winds of life for what seems an eternity. Your wings grow tired, and even the thought of flight seems like a faint, almost hopeless dream. It is just so hard – especially when you can find nowhere to rest your weary wings. We all want to succeed – to fly high on the winds of life. We all want to be accepted and loved – unconditionally. We all want to impact others and transform their lives into something better and into something more than what they could have achieved alone. We all want some kind of redemption, some kind of enduring meaning to come from the pains and cruelties we have experienced in our lives. We don’t want the hurt to be completely meaningless. We hope that it would find significance – and perhaps, miraculously alter the destiny of another to the Glory of God.

But sometimes it just feels too hard – too overwhelming, and it is easy to lose our eternal perspectives – especially when the temporal is painted so large and vividly. The here and now screams for our attention. It almost drowns out the still small voice of the Holy Spirit – the Spirit of Peace. Ultimately, we can just become so tired we don’t want to try anymore; we just want peace. It may seem as though we are always failing, but remember, failure isn’t the worst thing in the world . . . quitting is.

God (and I to a limited degree) understands how easy it is to just want the cup to pass from us . . . for there to be another way, if possible . . . The daily battles of life can take such a heavy toll. This is especially true when it seems we are all alone and have no one to lean on. I often feel I fail you in this area. But I want you to know one thing my brother, I AM HERE FOR YOU! And I will fight for you on my knees; you will see.

I owe a debt to you my brother that I could never hope to repay. Your friendship . . . your fellowship . . . well, it’s priceless. Had you not been there for me at the time you were – who knows? But God has a way of Divinely orchestrating things in such a beautiful way that the ultimate outcome produces a harmony and music that could only proceed from the Composer of Life – He produces a melody that brings life, where once only death seemed possible.

Life is here – and more on the way my brother. I am so humbled and deeply grateful that God would allow me to be a part of it – especially when that part might concern your life, the life of someone I love immeasurably. Your part is just to breathe deeply – inhale it; choose life! There is strength in the love of God. Do not forget the God Who called you and has been so faithful to you. His hesed will always abound to you. There is a powerful line in the “When You Believe” song: though hope is frail, it’s hard to kill. That is so powerful to me. Though vision is frail, it’s not that easily snuffed out. It may smolder faintly as a slight ember, but just when you think it’s about to go out, it ignites into a glorious flame that sets the lives of others ablaze with passion for Jesus.

I love you my brother. Do not underestimate this love! There is a day coming when you will feel its strength. More than that, do not underestimate the love of Christ! It will sustain you through this period, and I will be in agreement with it on my knees.

Like My Next Breath . . .

Nathan

About Me . . .

I am a Christian. I don’t say this to blatantly wave a red religious banner in the faces of my readers for effect, but rather to disclose that Christianity is such an integral part of who I am that I cannot simply compartmentalize my life in such a way as to leave it out any more than I could cease to be human, male or organic. Christianity is a comprehensive whole to me. It frames my worldview and ultimately I am subsumed under the weight of its love and shaped in every dimension of my life by the impact of its freedom.

Having said that, you shouldn’t be surprised that most of my thoughts are tempered, if not crafted, by this integral part of me. For me to do otherwise would be to splinter and fragment myself into something unintelligible and certainly disingenuous. Besides, does anyone really believe that someone can be absolutely objective and unbiased, uncolored by the sum of all the experiences he or she brings forward? Why not be honest and simply state your bias (meaning who you are) upfront? This way, others can intelligently sift through what you’re saying in an informed (even if disagreeable) way.

Today, June 16, 2006, in my first attempt at blogging. I suppose many first-time bloggers make this disclaimer. A friend has inspired me to set out on this endeavor. I suppose that it provides an outlet for one of the more basic desires of humanity: the desire to be heard. Why do we want to be heard? This is a legitimate question I think. I think it can begin to be understood by realizing that when we listen to someone, we are saying that they are worth being heard. Everyone wants to feel a sense of worth. When we pay attention to others – hear their voice – we are affirming their personhood and consequently their intrinsic value. We are saying that they, and by extension, what they are saying, are worth something; they have value. At the most fundamental level, we are saying “I love you.”

This brings me to my bottomline philosophy on life: We all want to be loved! The desire and need to be and feel loved makes the world go ‘round. It makes painters paint and poets poetic. It makes singers sing and philosophers philosophize. It scares the brave and makes weak the strong. It makes the wisest of us act foolish and even the foolish behave wisely at times. Almost everything we do in life, whether we know it or not, revolves around our desire to be loved. On that note, here is my first entry:

We All Wanna Be Loved