I have started a new book, or at least I am trying to start a new book. The Great Poems of the Bible by James L Kugel examines the Bible. Although my poetry chops are nearly nonexistent, I think I am going to enjoy this book.

Lately I have struggled with the connection between my intellectual life and my spiritual life; I know that I experience God through the brain that He has given me, but how that grows my faith is a mystery to me. Kugel explains in his introduction that he trys to “understand the way of seeing” of the texts that he selects. He continues:

Perhaps it is most natural for us today to explain the differences between our view of things and those of earlier civilizations by saying that in premodern times people simply did not know this or that fact, that they were under this or that misapprehension, from which we have now happily freed ourselves. No doubt there is some truth in this proposition. But it seems to me we ought at least to be prepared to entertain the opposite hypothesis as well, that however much progress the intervening centuries may have brought in some domains, they have also led us to lose a way of seeing that existed in former times. By “way of seeing” I mean to suggest something more than simply another point of view; perhaps people were actually enabled by this way of seeing to observe things that we no longer observe nowadays. It is difficult for one who reads the Bible carefully, and takes its words seriously, not to arrive at such a conclusion: something, a certain way of perceiving, has gradually closed inside of us, so that nowadays most people simply do not register, or do not have access to, what has been visible in an earlier age. What we have–all we have–are those texts of the Bible that bear witness to that other way of seeing (and perhaps invite us, with the use of some spiritual imagination, to try to enter in to it, open our eyes, and look).

This rings true in my life; I have been teaching about the Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution which are steeped in the ideas of progress. It is important to remember change and progress are not synonymous with better and more important. In the same way, my intelligence–or lack thereof–does not supersede my faith. I hope that I can crack open that way of seeing that will let my faith grow beyond what I can think, explain, defend with logic, or reason because if my faith rests in my own ability to justify its existence, I miss God’s grace.

My Neighborhood Has Archery, How about Yours?

The other day Sara and I were returning from a trip to a neighborhood park–not our neighborhood park, but that is a different story. As we drove down our narrow little road we saw our neighbor standing across the street with his friend–who lives on the other side of the street from us–with a bow, and get this, shooting it toward the friend’s house (presumably the target sat perched in the garage.) Lest you be worried, these boys were not uptight; they were both consuming capitalism’s idea of beer while honing their wayward aim. Before red flags start shooting up in your mind, you should know a Tony Stewart flag flapped above them, giving its approval after every breeze (should you not know who Tony Stewart is, he is a Nascar driver.) The question that now must be asked is this: if this same scenario happened in Spokane, would it change my reaction to it?

I suppose my question is dependent upon my feelings about Spokane (which, if you are wondering, are fond.) In fact, I found a blog about Spokane that I quite enjoy. While I enjoy living on the wetter side of the state, I do miss a lot about Spokane. I miss not running into people who think that somehow living in an urban environment–read:Seattle–automagically makes you an elite and people who live in the suburbs, by choice or situation, are predisposed to stupidity. The aquifer supplied water will not wash all of the blue from the collar of Spokane, no matter how strong the economic growth. Also, a rush hour commute of 30 minutes is long in Spokane but here that equals a good day. Maybe I am being a bit melancholy.

At church tonight, as an aside to the main topic, the pastor talked about asking for help and connecting with people. Specifically he described how he needed help fixing a leaky dishwasher; he found a neighbor to help and made a connection with him. He wondered why he had not talked to him before. At this moment Sara leaned over and said, “Can I shoot your bow?” While everyone was laughing at the pastors anecdote, I could not contain myself. Should there be any question, this is why I married my wife.

PS Click on the links or a kitten will die–or a puppy if you are a dog person–or a pony if you are a horse person.