Tuesday, August 12, 2014

RIP Robin Williams

The news of the death of Robin Williams broke yesterday. Like many of you, I grew up loving his many films, his role often being that of ambassador to the outcast and, like Holst's Jupiter, the bringer of jollity. My impressions of him were well received by people who didn't mind precocious children behaving spastically, or at least were willing to pretend they didn't. 

We had HBO when I was a kid, and I remember when Mrs. Doubtfire came on about three or four times a day and I would watch it in the playroom as I build Lego fighter planes or pretended I was a dinosaur. 


I remember going to a friend's house who had a SEGA Genesis, and being faced with an impossible decision: we could either keep playing, or switch over to the VCR to watch Aladdin. 


The other ones people like weren't so influential. I've never seen Dead Poet's Society, for instance, or Good Will Hunting. No, put your pitchforks down. I pretty much have to now, as Facebook populates with movie playlists in the wake of his death. 


I remember my parents sighing at the deaths of people they grew up with. It's beginning to happen to me, round about the same time that music I liked in middle and high school makes its way onto classic rock stations. 


 I find that I have a troubling tendency to be insulated against tragedies. Maybe some of you feel the same way. Seneca wrote that "constant exposure to dangers will breed contempt for them", and the Proverbs 31 woman "laughs at the days to come", inviting them to 'bring it on'. But while these things embody a defiant outlook, I think we're all scared of death, especially of dying alone. 


Our society makes it happen behind closed doors. We don't bury people at church anymore, where people have to walk past them to worship. We also don't die at home in bed anymore, either. It happens in sterile, pastel hospitals to smooth jazz as drugs dull our final moments, sometimes mercifully and sometimes out of convenience, so we'll go gentle into that good night.


Our fear of death influences almost everything we do. A band I like, "Darkest Hour", says that "all we need is  a little transcendence to mend us, but all we have is sedation that numbs all our senses."


Poet Phillip Larkin calls religion "a vast moth-eaten musical brocade, created to pretend we never die."


To which Peter Hitchens, a favorite of mine, responds:


"But what if the brocade, rather than being a pretence and a curtain in front of emptiness, was telling the truth?  What if the brocade was created to proclaim, rather than pretend, that we never die – and that we have come to prefer to believe that death is the end because we do not love the implications of the other idea?"


Lots of smart people think that death is the end, and if that's the only side you're ever given, you probably agree with them.


But lots of equally smart people disagree.


I didn't know Robin Williams, but I do know some people who have died, and believe that when one of us is lost we all lose:


No man is an island,

Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 
It tolls for thee. 

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

Aim

I've been packing up my apartment this week, and I found a little yellow legal pad on which I had recorded some thoughts. One of them was a quote from Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz: "Pursue one great decisive aim with force and determination."

I'm a thinker. I've never been good at focusing. It's in my nature to tackle ten things with ten percent effort, rather than one thing with 100 percent. For example, I have six books on the "currently reading" list on Goodreads


In keeping with my theme of bringing things into order, I've been focusing this week on finishing what I start. Part of that for me is finishing the books I'm reading before I start any more.


One of the books I finally finished as a result is "Financial Peace: Revisited" by Dave Ramsey. In it, Ramsey says something to the effect of "Focused intensity over time is what moves the needle."


I'm a planner. I make lists. I'm not OCD, but I've found that one thing that calms my chaotic thoughts is a clear, concise, step-by-step vision of what I want my day, week, month, and year to look like. But when my life circumstances depend on factors outside of my control, I get nervous and anxious. I don't make lists, or confine my lists to inconsequential areas that don't bring any comfort or stability. 


So, for me, pursuing one great decisive aim with force and determination doesn't come naturally. But as I try, I begin to see results. Those results encourage me, and I start to feel like I can win.


True despair and hopelessness seems to come when one divorces one's efforts from one's results. A toxic fatalism sets in: "it doesn't matter what I do, I'll always fail, I'll always be stuck." 


But there are basic laws of the universe: What goes up must come down. There are also basic laws of finance, business, art, or any field of human endeavor: supply and demand, reciprocity, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. 


By learning the basic laws, one cultivates wisdom. By adapting oneself to the basic laws, one learns virtue: patience, fortitude, temperance, thrift. 


I believe the basic laws are found in the Bible. Several examples are found in the book of Proverbs, for example. 


I also believe that, since God is the source of Truth, the more I apply biblical laws to my life, the more Christ-like I become, and the more I will thrive and flourish. 


But the Clausewitz quote is about war, you retort. What does that have to do with being Christ-like?


"I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war."

-Revelation 19:11 (NIV)

"The LORD is my strength and song, And He has become my salvation; This is my God, and I will praise Him; My father's God, and I will extol Him. "The LORD is a warrior; The LORD is His name. "Pharaoh's chariots and his army He has cast into the sea..."



  

How would the Bible respond to the quote? I think it's found here:


"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters."


-Colossians 3:23



Then:



"In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."


-Proverbs 3:6 (KJV)




So, in conclusion, act like God is your boss. Do what He says to do, and He'll make it clear what your next step is. And when that step becomes apparent, hit it with everything you've got.


That's my plan. Here goes.



Friday, August 01, 2014

Order

The Germans have a phrase that was used often in my family: "In Ordnung bringen." I means "to bring things to order" and it means everything from tidying up to taking command of troops. In English, "coming to order" means things quiet down and the official business of a meeting begins. This is often accompanied by a prayer. Why?

I believe that the Creator of the universe is a God of order. Otherwise, how do you explain the existence of mathematics? A complete, logical, coherent system that exists outside of everything else? Come on. Forget about it.

I also believe that one of the central purposes of human life, and sources of human flourishing, is to become more Christ-like by cultivating wisdom and virtue.

So, if God is a God of order, then mimicking Him and following His example means that we ought to become more orderly as well.

I can already hear the complaints of the 'free spirits' and creative types: "What, my desk is messy so I'm not a good Christian?" Not at all, O cluttered one, for I, too, am a bit of a slob. I'm spending the day cleaning up my bathroom, and if cleanliness is next to godliness, then I'm down in the ninth circle. I also think that a little creative destruction once in a while is a good thing. Jesus didn't tidy up the money lenders' tables, after all. But, in general, order is better than chaos.

I've heard it said that creativity can only exist when and where there is discipline. I've also noticed that I feel better when my space is clean and neat, no matter how quickly it descends into chaos again. Something inside of me breathes a sigh of relief when things are clean. If you're really messy, I'm not mad at you, I'm right there with you. But there's hope for both of us!

Andrew Kern, president of the Circe Institute (whose blog I wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who cares anything about Truth, Beauty, and Goodness, which can be found here) stated recently that we've been given a model for how to get things done in the creation narrative in Genesis 2. First, God said "Let us do such and such", then He did, then He assessed His work and said "it is good." Finally, when He was done, he rested.

When I've attempted to implement this process to my daily tasks, I find that a very good goal is "Let us bring such and such into order."

Yesterday I brought my car into order.

Today I'm bringing my kitchen and bathroom into order.

This month I'm bringing my job into order.

This year I'm bringing my finances into order.

This five years I'm bringing my career into order.

This lifetime I'm bringing my soul into order.

And it will be good.