A good reason to love summer

This afternoon I discovered what might be my favorite flower outside Wheaton's bookstore. They are so elegant and lovely, with many wonderful color combinations. Would a horticulturalist identify them for me, please?

I'm tempted to mosey down here under cover of thick darkness and pick a small bouquet for my kitchen table.

Yesterday I saw some men pouring concrete and wanted to go help them.

It was this time last year that I was in my first week of summer staffing in Mexico - we were washing everything that had been covered with a layer of dust, getting to know each other, encouraging the cockroaches to find a different place to live.

I have been missing Reynosa and the Isaiah 55 staff desperately recently - wanting to be there so strongly that I'm surprised how much it hurts sometimes.

Every day there's something that reminds me of last summer. I've joked that working for Conference Services is like what I did last year only air conditioned and without cockroaches, but it's weird to actually see so many similarities. Last week we formed an assembly line to get a mountain of pillows from the basement of one dorm to another. This of course made the think of the assembly lines on the job site to move several thousand concrete blocks. Putting conference brochures in each dorm room reminded me of throwing towels on the bunk beds. Betsy, our student boss, once made a comment about the scary linen room, and I couldn't help but think of the laundry room in Casa Verde. It stunk so badly of refuse that I held my breath as long as I could every time I had to go in and still felt my stomach turn. Today I drove one of the Wheaton minivans filled with bags of blankets blocking my view out the back window. It reminded me of the time I backed one of the big vans through the gate at Casa Verde, with plenty of guidance from amused Mexican men. And the times I managed to scrape the side of the van going out of the gate. . . Shopping for groceries makes the think of the shopping trips I made into Texas last summer. A couple days ago I saw corn husks for sale - the things that you use to wrap tamales. I ate those every Monday.

It's interesting to compare the team of summer staff with this the Conference Services team. I don't foresee any of the tension and difficulties that were so difficult last summer, but I wonder if those only arose because of the situation we were in. Much as some of the relationships between summer staffers were strained, in many ways we grew close and comfortable with each other so quickly. We knew each other.

I'm finding the trickiest part of the job is knowing how to interact with my team mates. This afternoon was the first shift behind the desk. Usually, I think, time behind the desk will be alone, but today there were at least three of us there at once, with little traffic of conference guests. This was hard for me. But I even have a hard time when there are just two of us working. I don't really know how to get to know my teammates. Our shared experiences lack the edge that propels conversations to a deeper level, as happened between Ashley and me last summer. I really hope this changes. Fred's gonna wonder why he hired me.

It's still a good job.
And I still miss Mexico.

The opportunity cost was getting too steep

"Need" is not a hugely useful word economically speaking. Last fall, my microeconomics teacher demonstrated this by asking us how many of us wanted an A in the class. Everyone's hand shot up. "How many of you need an A in the class?" A few hands fell. He followed that up with, "How many of you need an A in the class if it takes 10 hours of studying each week?" A few more hands fell. "15?" "20?" "40?" "80?" It didn't take long for all of us to realize we actually didn't need an A.

For everything, there is a substitute. A "B" is a perfectly good substitute for an A, if you judge that the opportunity cost of getting the A is too high. Making decisions is about weighing the marginal costs and benefits.

Last week, the author of one of my favorite blogs to follow - 22 Words - asked whether we have reached the point in this culture where it is considered irresponsible, or even negligent, to not have a cell phone. I was very interested to read the comments on this post, and even commented myself. A few of the responses really caught my attention. One woman wrote, "It really depends on your lifestyle. For us they are indispensable and always have been." Indispensable? Really? What if your cell phone cost you $100 a month? $200? $300? Similarly, "I realized, on my way to work this morning, that I had forgotten my cell phone. I feel extremely disconnected. I kept thinking, 'what if someone NEEDS to get a hold of me? I won't be available for a short time.'" Oh dear.

All that being said, I have decided that the marginal benefits of having a cell phone this summer outweigh the marginal costs. Today my Virgin Mobile cell phone came in the mail. For no activation fee and no cancellation fee, I can pay a set rate for a 200 minutes each month that roll over, if there should happen to be any left. Clearly this isn't a plan for long conversations with friends and family. Skype is for that. Much as I'll be glad to have a way to contact people and be contacted, I have some strange trepidation. I like my independence.

Some of my friends are so glad that I'll have a phone you'd think it was more of an inconvenience to them instead of me that I didn't have one.

Momentous (and monumental), for me.

I went for a 5K run with my friend Megan after work this evening.

I'm trying to remember the last time I ran. I've done a few painful laps around the indoor track in the SRC, most recently perhaps in spring of freshman year. The last real time, I think, was actually in Wheaton on the prairie path when I visited senior year. I was on the soccer team and was missing one or two of the last practices before the tournament and ran at Coach's request to make up for that.

My friend Andrew loves to run. (Follow that link - he's done quite well running for the Naval Academy) I can't quite wrap my mind around that. Seems slightly masochistic. Awful as it was (particularly the last 1-2 K), I'm planning on doing it again. (That really is masochistic, isn't it.) Megan and I ran the route of the Run for the Stars race that we'll run with friends and others in June.

I'm so tired.

A trip to Edgemont Memorial Park

On Friday evening, we took the boys to a park with a lake and fountains and a very nice playground. William likes slides, but the grips on his shoes, or sometimes his skin sticking to the plastic slide, tend to make him topple forward.

When you are a baby, sometimes things like this happen to you:

J.T. finds one thing he likes and would be happy to spend all his time playing on it. This ropes climbing construction is not one of those things yet:

This slide has more potential:

"I'm gonna jump in the water!"

On the walk back to the car my mother heard an oriole and then spotted him high in the branches of a tree. My camera has quite a nice zoom for a pretty much "point-and-shoot" camera, but not enough good enough to get a good picture of the bird. This photo's a bit blurry after I zoomed in and cropped it,but you can still see the brilliant orange of his feathers.


A few yards further, we saw this American (also known as Eastern) Goldfinch - the state bird of New Jersey, I remember from fifth grade geography.

On travel

Most of this was written while I waited for my flight:

Today, for whatever reason, my flight to Chicago from Newark is to depart from the part of the terminal where many international flights also depart. This made for longer scrutiny of my ID picture at security (can I really be as old as I claim?), more interesting people watching, announcements in different languages, and, perhaps incidentally, dirtier bathrooms. It reminds me of how long it has been since I actually flew internationally. I haven't been to Prague to visit the Polaks for six and a half years. I wish this weren't the case.

I sit at Gate 70 to write this, eavesdropping on the conversation carried on beside me in thick Chicago accents by two ladies returning from a vacation in Europe. Across from me, at Gate 71, people are lining up to board a plane bound for Milan. With extra time on my hands before settling to wait at the gate, I had wandered around watching the people flying to places I'd like to visit some day - Barcelona, Dublin, Berlin, Brussels, Paris. I wonder what country those women had visited.

Next to me, one of the women has called family in IL to get the low down on her cat's behavior in her absence. Rumor had the cat had been crying for her and not eating. She talks to her for a few moments, "I'll be home soon." The truth is the cat had only been attacking Aunt Flu's feet. "That's right; I told her to."

Post-flight

Seasonal allergies have been an affliction of late, so I was sadly congested when I flew. This wasn't much of a problem until the descent began. I am reminded to be thankful that I don't live with chronic pain. When your head feels like Jael is driving a tent peg into it, it's hard to think of anything else.

Back on the bench

If you neglect doing something that you enjoy, it easy to forget how much you love it. Or, as my small group leader said, passions are like a fire - if they aren't fed, they will smolder until rekindled. I brought my spiral bound red trinity hymnal to college with me as one of my most treasures possessions (along with my brown betty (if you followed that link and were concerned, I'm sorry to say that my brown betty did quickly develop that crazing, and I did not know about the replacement offer at the time.)) but never made the time to play for pleasure during the school year as I had hoped. This evening I opened the much worn and beloved hymnal on which I learned to play hymns, and sat down to play some favorites. Now I remember why all I wanted to do in the practice room freshman year was play hymns, back when my piano teacher was giving me such distress. It can bring such peace and perspective, and pleasure too.

One of my favorite hymns is The Church's One Foundation. I remember coming to love it in seventh grade. My history teacher had my class watch a long, but actually fairly good, documentary on the early church. This entire hymn was sung at numerous times throughout the film, at transition points of some sort. By the end of the documentary, most of my classmates were thoroughly sick of hearing it, but I am so grateful that I instead came to know and love this great hymn, as well as the Church and her dear Lord who defends her a little bit more because of the truths the hymn so strongly proclaimed. (The familiarity that breeds contempt is not the familiarity of close acquaintance, but that of informality.) Here's the hymn:

The Church's One Foundation

The church's one foundation
Is Jesus Christ her Lord,
She is His new creation
By water and the Word.
From heaven He came and sought her
To be His holy bride;
With His own blood He bought her,
And for her life He died.

Elect from every nation,
Yet one over all the earth;
Her charter of salvation,
One Lord, one faith, one birth;
One holy Name she blesses,
Partakes one holy food,
And to one hope she presses,
With every grace endued.

Though with a scornful wonder
Men see her sore oppressed,
By schisms rent asunder,
By heresies distressed,
Yet saints their watch are keeping;
Their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping
Shall be the morn of song.

The church shall never perish,
Her dear Lord to defend
To guide, sustain and cherish,
Is with her to the end
Though there be those that hate her,
And false sons in her pale
Against a foe or traitor,
She ever shall prevail

Mid toil and tribulation,
And tumult of her war,
She waits the consummation
Of peace forevermore;
'Til, with the vision glorious,
Her longing eyes are blessed,
And the great church victorious
Shall be the church at rest.

Yet she on earth hath union
With God the Three in One,
And mystic sweet communion
With those whose rest is won.
O happy ones and holy!
Lord, give us grace that we
Like them, the meek and lowly,
On high may dwell with Thee.

Across the page from that is another favorite, also worthy of posting here. There are multiple verses, but I really only know the eight that are in my hymnal:

Jesus, With Thy Church Abide

Jesus, with Thy church abide;
Be her savior, Lord, and Guide,
While on earth her faith is tried:
We beseech Thee, hear us.

Keep her life and doctrine pure;
Grant her patience to endure,
Trusting in Thy promise sure:
We beseech Thee, hear us.

May she one in doctrine be,
One in truth and charity,
Winning all to faith in Thee:
We beseech Thee, hear us.

May she guide the poor and blind,
Seek the lost until she find
And the brokenhearted bind:
We beseech Thee, hear us.

Save her love from growing cold,
Make her watchmen strong and bold,
Fence her round, thy peaceful fold:
We beseech thee, hear us.

May her lamp of truth be bright,
Bid her bear aloft its light
Through the realms of heathen night:
We beseech thee, hear us.

Arm her soldiers with the cross,
Brave to suffer toil or loss,
Counting earthly gain but dross:
We beseech thee, hear us.

May she holy triumphs win,
Overthrow the hosts of sin,
Gather all the nations in:
We beseech thee, hear us.

Such an exciting morning

Ruth and the boys came up to visit me before I head back to Wheaton. I should probably add Richard Scarry's "Cars and Trucks and Things that Go" to my "reading now" list on the sidebar. John wants to read it over and over again. (My favorite page is the one where Mrs. Rabbit yells to Mr. Rabbit, "Dump it THERE!" and all the dump truck drivers dump their loads as well.)

This morning was particularly exciting because this front-end loader and a cherry picker showed up on the street, soon to be joined by a big orange dump truck. We watched the man in the cherry picker cut down the branches of a tree across the street. The man in the front-loader picked them up and dropped them into the dump truck. The "scoop" part of the front-loader (if JT weren't napping, I'd ask him the technical term) can drag around the branches so they're all together on the street and then open up like a jaw, crunch them together, and drop them in the dump truck. I'd like to drive a real front-loader some day. There was a toy one in the playground in British Columbia, but I think this would give a bigger thrill.

My dad asked for some of the stump of the cherry tree so he can use his lathe to make a bowl or something out of it.

The nice man who drove the cherry picker let John stand up in the cab . . .

. . . and the front-end loader driver followed suit.

Hm.

On the same day earlier in the month I read these two statements on a couple blogs I follow:

From Edmund P. Clowney, via Take Your Vitamin Z:

“We are not called to build the kingdom of glory, but to carry a cross in the kingdom of grace. To forget the cause of missions is to forget the purpose of Christ in a world still spared from destruction. The purpose of your life must be the purpose of Christ’s death.”

From Martin Luther, via Strawberry-Rhubarb Theology:

How would you fill in the blank? "It ought to be the primary goal of every Christian to ________________." Pursue personal holiness? Lead others to Christ? Serve others in love? Cultivate the spiritual disciplines?

Here's Luther's answer: "It ought to be the primary goal of every Christian to put aside confidence in works and grow stronger in the belief that we are saved by faith alone" (The Freedom of a Christian [trans. M. Tranvik; Fortress 2008], 55).

And back in January I read this:

From Martin Lloyd Jones, via On Earth as it is in Heaven:

Our supreme need, and our only need, is to know God, the living God, and the power of his might. We need nothing else. It is just that, the power of the living God, to know that the living God is among us and that nothing else matters.

I certainly find these summaries helpful and thoughtful and convicting, but reading two in one day made me wonder - is it possible to condense the Christian faith in that way? How different is primary goal from purpose? If our supreme need is to know God, shouldn't our primary goal be to know God? Growing stronger in the belief that we are saved by faith alone is only one part (albeit a big part) of knowing God more, isn't it? Might there be dangers associated with writing such summaries and definitions? Are they necessary risks? What other questions should I be asking? How would you have defined the Christian's purpose, primary goal, and supreme need? Anyone care to explain the nuanced difference between purpose and primary goal for me?

Dialogue with a Two and a half year old.

A conversation between my nephew and me:

JT: Do you wanna go to the basement with me?
Me: The basement?! Where the boogie man lives?
JT: Yeah!
Me: Okay. You're very brave.

We head downstairs and poke around.

JT: Where do you think the boogie man lives?
Me: I dunno. Where do you think?
JT: Behind the washing machine!
Me: Behind the washing machine - he probably smells like detergent!
JT: Yeah. He probably smells like da turtle. The boogie man is like a turtle.

Seven weeks late . . .

Back in March, I went to a fascinating lecture by Dr. Alan Jacobs, a English professor here at Wheaton. He recently published a book on the cultural history of original sin, and an apologetics club on campus invited him to speak about it. The twelve students who showed up to the lecture were well rewarded.

(This post is based on my notes, without much attention to style. I'm noticing that it's a good deal more disjointed than the actual lecture was.)

Dr. Jacobs's idea was to write a book introducing the doctrine of original sin to a broad audience, rather than write a defense of the doctrine catered to believers. For this purpose, he chose to publish with Harper Collins which isn't really associated with the Christian press (though Tom Wright publishes with them).

Dr. Jacobs prefaced his talk by sharing something that had surprised him. He said he had been concerned to settle on a title that would attract peoples' attention, rather than something like "Original Sin" which he thought would turn them away. He submitted the title "Bad to the Bone," but his marketer said that this sounded as if he was making fun of the doctrine and suggested something more provocative like "Original Sin." Dr. Jacobs admitted that he hadn't anticipated how alien the core beliefs of Christianity are to people outside the culture. The phrase "original sin" which calls up so many associations for Christians, is novel to most unbelievers.

The Christian philosopher Kierkegaard only put his name on books that were explicitly Christian. He used a pseudonym for other books that he wrote from the perspective of someone on the fringe of Christianity. He believed that a radical illusion (a false picture that we have about who we are) can only be removed by indirect means, for almost no one is ready to receive teaching. The obvious example of such an approach is Nathan with David after David's adultery with Bathsheba. George Whitefield, however, discovered that it is possible to preach directly and effectively at least to some people. In response to a question about one sermon he said, "I think it was effective despite the pieces of dad cat thrown at me."

Jacobs decided to follow Kierkegaard's approach, and does not argue on behalf of the doctrine of original sin, even though he believes in it. Instead, he tells the history of the idea - answering questions like what is it, is it present in other cultures of unique to Christianity, was there resistance to it, when did it become less commonly held, will it make a comeback, etc. This way, readers are able to reflect on the doctrine without being directly confronted with the fact that they are afflicted.

He outlined the five things you must believe to accept original sin:

1. There is sin to which everyone has a propensity - it is universal.
2. This sin is hard-wired, not acquired.
3. We were not made this way - it came because of the fall.
4. Our actions and inclinations are properly called sin. This is an important distinction because Pinker says we're hard-wired to be aggressive against others outside of our group, but he wouldn't call such aggression sin.
5. We can't fix it

There are unbelievers who accept the doctrine - they're just quite depressed. Rebecca West is quoted as saying that a good epithet for a grave that holds the whole world would be, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Dr. Jacobs's book is a cultural history of original sin. It addresses why people believe it, what are the consequences of believing the doctrine, and what are the consequences when we cease to believe it. He was prompted to research and write the book by learning an account of Whitefield's preaching and by reading a book called "Out of Revolution." He learned that the most hostile to Whitefield's preaching were those at the height of society. The Duchess was insulted at being told that she was in no better position with God than the Welsh coal miners. It was an "insult to good breeding." The Welsh coal miners on the other hand were moved to tears by Whitefield's message. When the leveling effect of the social acceptance of original sin is lifted, people think of themselves and their people group as intrinsically superior.

Jacobs found that he could commend our need for rescue from sin, if he could cast it in the language of democracy. The most radical egalitarianism is recognizing everyone as being sinners under the same judgment. This is not so unreasonable, since belief in the opposite has led to terrible things.

Dr. Jacobs's hope is that his readers will think that if Christians are right about this aspect of human nature, maybe some of the other things they say are reasonable too. This is much how he came to faith. He read the Bible because he was interested in a girl. When he got to Romans 7 he was convicted - if Paul understood him, could so accurately diagnose his case, maybe he should listen to Paul's prescription. Jacobs says that he accepted broken human nature before he accepted a loving God.

The doctrine of original sin has seen a gradual decline since 1700, but the development of modern science has actually helped increase acceptance of it. The language of genetic inheritance provides a metaphor for understanding and talking about original sin. In the late eighteenth century, original sin was thought irrational. Now it's more plausible to unbelievers than it has been for centuries.

Dr. Jacobs's book, Original Sin: A Cultural History, has been getting more attention in Great Britain that it is here. The Times of London Literary Review wrote that it is "an intelligent book from an evangelical Christian from the American deep South," as if such a thing were unimaginable.

I bought the book and plan on reading it this week. I also own his book The Narnian on C.S. Lewis, and it was fabulous.

Morton Arboretum

My RA from last year (who is a lovely person whom I shall miss next year - she's going to vet school in Louisiana) bought a pass to the Morton Arboretum at the beginning of the year. Each time she visits, she can bring one guest for free - I got to be that guest about ten days ago. It was absolutely wonderful - the weight of looming exams just melted away. Most of the flowering trees weren't quite at peak yet. The blossoms of these crab-apple trees were just beginning to show.

It was quite rainy for the first half of our visit.

I played around with the "enhance" tool in iphoto. This one is enhanced - I can't decide if it's more life-like - pictures sometimes seem to lose some of the color - or if it too bright when it was, in fact, actually raining. I didn't enhance most of the others.


Please overlook the hunched shoulders. For some reason I always wanna do that when it's rainy.

Aren't these lovely? I wish I could remember what kind of tree it was.

Emily and I frolicked through the mud. It was great fun.

After visiting the field of European flowering trees, we walked to Daffodil Glade. There were all different kinds, white ones and yellow ones.

a redbud.

My one regret, aside from the hunched shoulders, is that the only picture of the two of us together is a blurry one in front of Fischer dorm.

Oof.

Packing is awful.

To be honest, I like certain aspects of it. I'm pretty good at fitting lots of things into little space, wrapping teacups up in t-shirts and whatnot. But when there's studying for finals to be done, lots of last minute things to remember, graduating friends to wish farewell, it's kinda rough.

I'm glad Robin is smiling. . .


because a view like this is a scary one. . .



And then I stumbled upon the mysterious pair of guy's jeans that were floating around the suite all year. . .

My diet has worked wonders!
The best thing about the jeans is that one size fits everyone in the suite. . .

Doesn't Erin look hot?
Robin tried them on too. . .

Oh yeah!

Turns out Sarah had picked them up at the co-op or some such place for a raid last year. I don't think I had laughed harder all week.

Chim chiminey chim chiminey chim chim cheroo. I does what I likes and I likes what I do.

I think I've been to Chicago at least five times as often this school year as last, though I admit that's not saying a lot. I'll be working in Wheaton this summer for Conference Services, so I'm looking forward to getting to know the city a lot better than. It's just too busy during the school year, but that didn't stop me from going in with these three friends a little while back to see Mary Poppins. We bought cheap-ish tickets a couple hours before the show and studied outside an Intelligentsia coffee shop.

The performance was quite incredible. Mary Poppins was, of course, practically perfect in every way, though Bert was my favorite. The scene with all the chimney sweeps was definitely the best. There was one point where he walked up the wall on one side, across the ceiling upside down, and back down the other side. I wish I could have gone backstage and learned how they do all the flying and moving around of the props so quickly and quietly. It's incredible.

I'd also forgotten how strange parts of it are. Mrs. Corry is positively creepy.

Not sure what this building is, but I thought it a pretty view.

So I thought these flowers were very pretty, and wanted a picture of the four of us with them. . .

I didn't think through that very well. We blocked the flowers, of course.

Pineapples! These made me very excited.

Youthful

A conversation in the Chicago airport after borrowing a cell phone to tell my parents that my flight was delayed at least two hours:

"Do you mind my asking how old you are?"

"Twenty. I'm going home after my sophomore year of college."

"Oh, because you look about my daughter's age, and she's fourteen. I was wondering, 'Is this girl old enough to fly alone?'"

"Oh, really? Haha."

"It's a good thing - you'll appreciate it some day."

"So I've heard."

If I had a buck for every time I've had this conversation, I think I could fly back to Chicago on the dividends.

Note to self: when flying, take out the hair ribbon and wear make-up.

Good things to remember during finals week

Twelve hours from now I'll have finished my Modern European Lit exam. Dr. Lundin is e-mailing us the writing assignment fifteen minutes before start time, and we have two hours to write a paper which we will then email to him, and print a hard copy. I'm not feeling so great about it. . . so I was encouraged to read this quote on a wall in Clara's apartment where I had been studying for several hours:

If there is any meaning in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, it is this: that there is a God who created us, and who loves us so very much that he would stop at nothing to bring us to him.

And I really suspect that of all the things we think we want to know, the only thing we really want to know is that we are loved. I hope you know that.

And I hope you stop worrying about all the stuff you don't know because I don't think that it amounts to a hill of beans.

- Rich Mullins

The fact that the first line reminded me of John 3:16 and how the phrase "for God so loved the world" is commonly misunderstood to be a measure of greatness or intensity rather than precision makes me think I'm better prepared for tomorrow's New Testament exam. Did you know that the Johannine definition of love is to show the glory of God in Christ Jesus? This is what God did for us!

I would love to go to sleep right now.

A Quotable Quote and a Shameless Plug

A week or so ago, I attended College Church's Missionary Prayer Salad Fellowship Dinner. Afterwards, I was hovering around the table that was being cleared of half-finished salads and overheard a woman say to no one in particular:

"Well, nobody died."

Indeed. The mark of a successful meeting. Nobody died.
I burst out laughing.

Apparently, I learned later, the context was that some people had brought salads with nuts overlooking the prohibition against them, and the ladies in charge had been very concerned that those salads be kept separate and marked accordingly to protect those with dangerous nut allergies.

Nevertheless, I think we should make a habit of concluding various meetings and sessions with those comforting words: "Well, nobody died."

If I had heard those words on Wheaton's campus, I would have posted this on Overheard at Wheaton, a semi-anonymous blog with a self-explanatory title.

Made for me

Since it's the end of the school year, there's a big pile of clothing accumulating at the end of the hall to be donated to the Corinthian Co-op. I poked around in it and found a skirt that looked as if it might fit. It does, more or less. The brand name? M J Carroll.

Uncanny.