What follows came out of what I intended to be a short note to myself on something that struck me in Psalm 83, and so it starts out rather informally and continues in long, rambling, disorganized fashion. Yet it is what I wrote as my mind roamed, so here it is:
In the Old Testament one finds such passages as this: “so pursue them with Your tempest and terrify them with Your storm. Cover their faces with shame so that men will seek your Name, O LORD” and elsewhere, in many places as well…Man, faced with the wrath of God, is expected to turn back to Him; this is found in Revelation as well. God’s destruction was, in some part, in order to turn men back to Him. This holds true for both Israel and the Gentile peoples—God’s swift justice called down in order to turn people back to Him. We find this hard to imagine now…it is God’s mercy, His unfailing love, His great forbearance, His Sacrifice for our sakes (albeit ultimately, and importantly, for His sake most of all), it is these pleasant expressions of God’s divinity that we expect will draw men to Him. Not His wrath and sharp justice. We modern men think that such harsher realities of the Divine will drive men away from God, will form barriers between them and an experience with the Holy God. I think we have watered down, or pacified, our representation of God accordingly—and harmfully. The Old Testament writers, as well as, in truth, the New Testament writers, understood aspects of God that we choose to ignore. God is a God that the warrior king David could implore to visit bloody judgment upon his enemies…for God is the original Warrior King. And, at the same time, David could entreat God to show His glory to men who did not know Him, that they might come to believe in His Name. These two desires of David’s heart (remember, he was a man after God’s own heart, after all) are not mutually exclusive, however much we moderns fail to see the complexities of reality, or choose to see opposites where complements might exist (one thinks of man’s responsibility and God’s sovereignty as a key example of that). For man, when faced with the irresistible power of God, the inarguable justice of God, the immutable laws of God, and the overwhelming, transcendent Presence of God, he no longer holds any delusions that it is God who is in the Dock. Man knows—or, more broadly, is more likely to realize—when faced with God’s wrath that he needs God’s forgiveness. It is much harder to entertain delusions of grandeur or immunity when in the midst of God’s judgment.
Of course, more is going on than simply a reminder of God’s Holiness for those being confronted with God’s harsher qualities. It is—this is probably more true to David’s intent—that the lesson is for those who witness God’s judgment on others. Psalm 37 comes to mind: “I have seen a wicked and ruthless man flourishing like a green tree in its native soil, but he soon passed away and was no more…Consider the blameless, observe the upright; there is a future for the man of peace. But all sinners will be destroyed; the future of the wicked will be cut off.” It is often a helpful reminder to see wickedness punished here on earth, although often such punishment is—unfortunately for the wicked—postponed until much later.
Yet I think such passages of the Old Testament, where is described or hoped for an encounter between wickedness and God’s just wrath, do offer an interesting commentary on the difference—superficial, as all such temporal differences are—between modern and ancient man. The Bible, I think, describes a more natural state, prey to less affections and accretions of layered culture, than does the world with which we are familiar. It seems strange to us that a loving God might display His wrath in order to draw unbelievers to Him, or that, having chosen to do so, such a ploy might work. I think this is an example of one of many ways that the Bible describes the human condition more accurately than we tend to see it, unless we consider things with more critical reason than is usual. We understand how God’s likability might draw men to Him…but we understand little about Holiness. We look askance at the many examples of God’s “tough love” of His creatures, and perhaps think “Why, wouldn’t it be better to just offer a few more blessings?” But, of course, when God acts in judgment, blessings and patience have already been thrown back in God’s face. Man, unless anchored in God, will drift under the impetus of happiness and unappreciated blessing according to the law of sin and death. Sometimes it takes God shaking things up a bit—whether in imprecatory psalm fashion, or like He did to the Children of Israel in the wilderness, or like He will do during the Tribulation. Man does not accept a new law—especially one which requires him to give up his rights—easily. Sometimes, encounters with justice or more general misfortune serve man well, like a pothole or blown tire stopping a car racing down the wrong road.
Another thing we often ignore is that all the peoples of the earth belong to God; they are for His pleasure, and He acts in a way that brings things more closely under the covering of His will. I think ancient man understood, at varying levels of consciousness, that he existed for the satisfaction of God. The difference between modern and ancient man in this regard ties into Lewis’s “God in the Dock” distinction, and also likely results from the synthetic/artificial world we live in, insulated by illusions of control which ancient man largely lacked. But, it was a rarity in the ancient world for a man to believe in no god at all, or to disdain the gods of his people; God’s display of power, therefore, reminded unbelievers the HE alone was the True God…such a reminder is always and ever for man’s benefit. It may, of course, be an extremely uncomfortable benefit, but encountering the existence of our Creator is perhaps a necessary step in the journey to understand His Holy love and person and entering into relationship with Him. And perhaps this is why a psalmist might implore God to “Rise up, O God, judge the earth, for all the nations are Your inheritance;” he understood that God was the judge of the nations, that they existed for Him, and that God displaying His Nature was, in the long run, the best possible thing.
And yet I’ve still approached the issue from the angle of how God’s display of just power benefits man; I know, however, that the core issue is how such an action glorifies God. Yet I can’t move away from the reality, strange to my modern mind, that God’s harsh displays do draw people to Him. It does make sense, though, especially if one studies the experience of Israel in the Old Testament (or even, maybe, Israel’s experience since the Diaspora). Yet I find myself thinking of God’s harsh justice as punishment first…which it possibly is, especially in certain cases. It’s hard to wrap my mind around asking for God’s swift judgment so that men might be saved…but in that I think I am an oddity over the long tradition of the people of God; I’ve been programmed by political correctness—both within and without the Church—and an emphasis on tolerance over love, on platitudes over absolutes, on niceties over justice. We frown at the imprecatory psalms, shake our heads at Augustine’s “just war,” categorically oppose the idea of the Christian Knight, argue vehemently against those who describe natural disasters as “the judgment of God” (who, after all, really knows? There are quite a few precedents, one must remember). God knows best, and He was not always warm and friendly with a rebellious Israel—or with Israel’s pagan neighbors—and we should never apologize for this. God is a tempest and a storm, and sometimes His righteous violence forces men to face the Truth, and sometimes they respond by seeking His Name.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
October 1st
Today was my second full day in Oxford, and already I feel fairly well settled in; that’s not to say I’m not a tad daunted by the prospect of all that is left to do before class—not to mention the amount of work that will accompany those classes. Part of the problem is that it’s relatively unclear what precisely I am supposed to do—this has been a common theme in my experience thus far, beginning with my student visa ordeal and continuing through accommodation and finances and various pre-term details. Getting ready for a year at Oxford is made somewhat more complicated in part because of the tri-partite nature of the school; the University (Oxford itself), College (St Hilda’s), and Faculty (History) entities each have their own way of doing things, their own tasks, own advisors, own locations, own cultures, own libraries…I even have separate email addresses for my separate college and faculty roles. However, the exceedingly (and, at times, seemingly needlessly) complicated process has been made more manageable in part because of all the fellow graduate students I’ve met. That’s not to say we are able to offer each other much in the way of information about what exactly it is we are supposed to do, but there’s something to be said for commiseration and the herd mentality. Knowing that we are together all adjusting to the Oxford way of doing things, an incredibly well-established but often counter-intuitive way, is a comfort. Also, the staff people at Oxford are quite friendly, and being at Oxford itself makes all manner of hoops worth jumping through. I’m going to for the most part skip the various tasks that threaten to bother me at times, and aim for an account of my broader Oxford experience.
So, back to the beginning. I arrived in London late Tuesday morning, and slowly made my way to Oxford. I didn’t really know how to get there, or to my college or house, but managed anyway—with a well-ordered public transport system, most things are possible. Upon arrival at St Hilda’s (my college), I ran into a fellow American whom I had met at the UK consulate in Chicago, where we both had to go to procure our visas. I quickly met several other Hilda’s students…but that is jumping a bit ahead. The first fellow Oxford student I met was on the bus ride from Heathrow Airport, a Harvard graduate and a nice guy, though undoubtedly jealous of my superior undergraduate education. There were a few other Americans Oxford-bound on the bus, although we more or less split ways upon arrival.
Oxford is quite a busy place, with students, locals, and tourists flowing ceaselessly through the well-worn streets, but always above the crowded thoroughfares are the spires and old stone walls of the University offer a timeless commentary on the daily progression below. My college is on the banks of the Cherwell, more or less opposite Magdalen College, a pleasant little place with lots of old trees and green lawns. I’ve walked (it feels like) all over my side of Oxford; my house is about a mile from the Cherwell, so I put quite a lot of distance in each day…though not enough to be a bother, at least not yet. Things may be different on dark, rainy winter days. However, if the miles of walking aren’t enough to keep me in shape, I pass by the gym on my way home; incidentally, the track here is where Roger Bannister first broke the 4-minute mile record. Also incidental, the first coffee shop I visited (not, in fact, for coffee) was founded in 1646. Relatively old, I would say.
My first full day in Oxford (yesterday) started off with an introduction talk(s) for international postgraduate students. It was a lot of information; a mixture of things I already knew, things I needed to know but have basically already forgotten, things that will surface on their own, and things I probably don’t need to know. It was a bit disorganized, but there was a free lunch so I can’t really complain. I did find out about a free dinner that night, which happened to be hosted by the Graduate Christian Union—so I of course went, along with Scott (the St Hilda’s guy I met in Chicago) and some other Hilda’s people. It was good to get connected to a Christian society right away, and the table I sat at during dinner was full of great people—four of which I already knew, with four more who spent the rest of the evening with.
A quick description of these people: Scott, from Wisconsin, is working on his master’s degree in the social science of the internet; he’s a computer science student, among other things, who spent the last year teaching English in Japan. Kate is from North Carolina, and I think she’s working on her master’s in Women’s Studies…her friend from college was also present, visiting her in Oxford after several months spent working in Nepal. She’s not a student currently, but blended in quite well. Then there is Lia, a Romanian who has lived in Boston for the past 12 years, including her undergraduate career at Harvard. She is studying Art History, and hopefully she’ll give me a tour of Romania some day. Next came Alex, a German who is studying Computer Programming; then Nike, a Canadian studying for a D.Phil (basically a Ph.D) in Quantum mechanics; then Cecile, from Paris, working on a D.Phil in Physics—with an astro-physics/astronomy bent; Deborah, from Bombay, who is working on a D.Phil in English Literature and was our more experienced host of the evening. After the dinner Deborah took us out to a pub (one advantage to the British culture—even at a Christian gathering it is recommended we go out to the pubs after); we went to the Turl Bar, which we reached by going through another pub and down a quasi-underground alleyway area.
My house, as I mentioned, is a little far out (although I’ve met several people with a longer distance to walk). It’s a nice little place though, 3 or 4 stories (depending on whether or not you count the loft, where the landlord/owner/fellow resident resides). It’s rather like a duplex, pretty narrow but with everything necessary for a good time in England, including an apple tree with ripe apples in the back garden. I have 4 flatmates, including the owner; all of whom are British and none of whom are Oxford students, though one does go to Oxford Brookes University, another school here though not affiliated with Oxford University. I like the fact that I’m living with Brits, because my days have been mostly filled with hanging out with other international postgraduates, most of whom are American. Although the British postgraduates should be coming in this weekend, it’s good to have a default British household.
Today kind of flew by, although I had my first meeting with my advisor (my faculty advisor, who happens to be my college advisor as well—such an overlap is, I think, a rarity). And so I have a bit more of an idea what is expected of me, academically speaking. Hopefully I will fashion a much greater understanding in the weeks to come. Also, I went to the grocery store for the first time here, which is of course a noteworthy milestone—I will be able to eat. I also met my first Rhodes Scholar here. And, I had a late lunch/early dinner with three other postgrads, including a home-made apple pie from apples we picked. I cannot say I did much in preparing the meal, other than watching…but I did cut up the apples, which was about the limit of my cooking skills. Tonight I will have a late-night snack, Kebab-shop style—something I have missed from my year in Scotland. This one goes out to Chris Ballantine.
There is so much I could say, especially if I went deeper into my appreciation for Oxford and this opportunity I have…or if I started talking about what this term will look like, what sort of things I will be studying, where I want to travel, or if I began writing about Oxford history/trivia and describing the scenery, or what all I have to do over the next couple weeks. But, I think this is about it for one posting; pax vobiscum (I’m supposed to know Latin now…do I? That remains to be seen).
So, back to the beginning. I arrived in London late Tuesday morning, and slowly made my way to Oxford. I didn’t really know how to get there, or to my college or house, but managed anyway—with a well-ordered public transport system, most things are possible. Upon arrival at St Hilda’s (my college), I ran into a fellow American whom I had met at the UK consulate in Chicago, where we both had to go to procure our visas. I quickly met several other Hilda’s students…but that is jumping a bit ahead. The first fellow Oxford student I met was on the bus ride from Heathrow Airport, a Harvard graduate and a nice guy, though undoubtedly jealous of my superior undergraduate education. There were a few other Americans Oxford-bound on the bus, although we more or less split ways upon arrival.
Oxford is quite a busy place, with students, locals, and tourists flowing ceaselessly through the well-worn streets, but always above the crowded thoroughfares are the spires and old stone walls of the University offer a timeless commentary on the daily progression below. My college is on the banks of the Cherwell, more or less opposite Magdalen College, a pleasant little place with lots of old trees and green lawns. I’ve walked (it feels like) all over my side of Oxford; my house is about a mile from the Cherwell, so I put quite a lot of distance in each day…though not enough to be a bother, at least not yet. Things may be different on dark, rainy winter days. However, if the miles of walking aren’t enough to keep me in shape, I pass by the gym on my way home; incidentally, the track here is where Roger Bannister first broke the 4-minute mile record. Also incidental, the first coffee shop I visited (not, in fact, for coffee) was founded in 1646. Relatively old, I would say.
My first full day in Oxford (yesterday) started off with an introduction talk(s) for international postgraduate students. It was a lot of information; a mixture of things I already knew, things I needed to know but have basically already forgotten, things that will surface on their own, and things I probably don’t need to know. It was a bit disorganized, but there was a free lunch so I can’t really complain. I did find out about a free dinner that night, which happened to be hosted by the Graduate Christian Union—so I of course went, along with Scott (the St Hilda’s guy I met in Chicago) and some other Hilda’s people. It was good to get connected to a Christian society right away, and the table I sat at during dinner was full of great people—four of which I already knew, with four more who spent the rest of the evening with.
A quick description of these people: Scott, from Wisconsin, is working on his master’s degree in the social science of the internet; he’s a computer science student, among other things, who spent the last year teaching English in Japan. Kate is from North Carolina, and I think she’s working on her master’s in Women’s Studies…her friend from college was also present, visiting her in Oxford after several months spent working in Nepal. She’s not a student currently, but blended in quite well. Then there is Lia, a Romanian who has lived in Boston for the past 12 years, including her undergraduate career at Harvard. She is studying Art History, and hopefully she’ll give me a tour of Romania some day. Next came Alex, a German who is studying Computer Programming; then Nike, a Canadian studying for a D.Phil (basically a Ph.D) in Quantum mechanics; then Cecile, from Paris, working on a D.Phil in Physics—with an astro-physics/astronomy bent; Deborah, from Bombay, who is working on a D.Phil in English Literature and was our more experienced host of the evening. After the dinner Deborah took us out to a pub (one advantage to the British culture—even at a Christian gathering it is recommended we go out to the pubs after); we went to the Turl Bar, which we reached by going through another pub and down a quasi-underground alleyway area.
My house, as I mentioned, is a little far out (although I’ve met several people with a longer distance to walk). It’s a nice little place though, 3 or 4 stories (depending on whether or not you count the loft, where the landlord/owner/fellow resident resides). It’s rather like a duplex, pretty narrow but with everything necessary for a good time in England, including an apple tree with ripe apples in the back garden. I have 4 flatmates, including the owner; all of whom are British and none of whom are Oxford students, though one does go to Oxford Brookes University, another school here though not affiliated with Oxford University. I like the fact that I’m living with Brits, because my days have been mostly filled with hanging out with other international postgraduates, most of whom are American. Although the British postgraduates should be coming in this weekend, it’s good to have a default British household.
Today kind of flew by, although I had my first meeting with my advisor (my faculty advisor, who happens to be my college advisor as well—such an overlap is, I think, a rarity). And so I have a bit more of an idea what is expected of me, academically speaking. Hopefully I will fashion a much greater understanding in the weeks to come. Also, I went to the grocery store for the first time here, which is of course a noteworthy milestone—I will be able to eat. I also met my first Rhodes Scholar here. And, I had a late lunch/early dinner with three other postgrads, including a home-made apple pie from apples we picked. I cannot say I did much in preparing the meal, other than watching…but I did cut up the apples, which was about the limit of my cooking skills. Tonight I will have a late-night snack, Kebab-shop style—something I have missed from my year in Scotland. This one goes out to Chris Ballantine.
There is so much I could say, especially if I went deeper into my appreciation for Oxford and this opportunity I have…or if I started talking about what this term will look like, what sort of things I will be studying, where I want to travel, or if I began writing about Oxford history/trivia and describing the scenery, or what all I have to do over the next couple weeks. But, I think this is about it for one posting; pax vobiscum (I’m supposed to know Latin now…do I? That remains to be seen).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)