Hebrews 12

The other day, in one of my rare (these days) quiet times, I was wishing for a passage to study that would encourage me in my battle with sin, and thinking how there’s not much like that in Scripture; mostly rather exhortations not to sin, or explanations why we shouldn’t and don’t have to sin.

Those are great, but sometimes you want sympathy, you want to know that someone — that is, God — knows what it feels like to feel trapped by your sin. There are a few good Psalm verses like this, of course, e.g. “My sins are more numerous than the hairs of my head, and I cannot see.” David never describes the process of attempting to resist sin and failing, though. You start to wonder if feeling oppressed by sin really is just a Western Protestant obsession, or if the people in the Bible had some secret to life and holiness that I’m missing. Or if being in Christ should make it easy to stop sinning. (I’m not factoring in Romans 7 to this discussion because I really don’t know if it describes the Christian life, or the attitude of a Jew before he knows Christ.)

So I was thinking all this — I’ve thought it a lot over the last few years — and feeling kind of discontent, even judgmental, nursing the seed of a suspicion that there is a serious omission in Scripture, when I remembered some shred of Hebrews 12. Thank goodness! This is what I was looking for. This author knows how hard it is. (Someone who reads this might be thinking, “how can you, you rich Western Christian with funding compare your hardships to those of the audience of Hebrews, who were probably undergoing persecution for their faith?” My short answer: Balls.)

Interestingly, he takes the hardships they were suffering, which were almost definitely not their fault, and makes sense of them by relating them to the problem of sin and the process of sanctification. Their suffering is discipline from God, sent not out of hatred or even anger, but love, to teach them self-control, submission, and holiness. These days in our culture anyone who suggests that there might be a higher meaning to other people’s suffering, that God might mean it for good, is condemned as facile, insensitive. Heck, the other day I was criticizing C. S. Lewis in Shadowlands for seeming to have a theology of suffering that didn’t recognize that on some level it’s wrong, it shouldn’t happen – it’s an evil that will someday be wiped out.

The author of Hebrews does it though. So while I don’t plan on going around telling the recently bereaved “it’s all part of God’s plan,” it’s good to remember that suffering does have a purpose (probably lots – sanctification is only one), because it de-ultimatizes it.

The small dark room that is grad school

I just had a good talk with Ksenya about how depressing and constricting grad school can be sometimes. We agree that if we had normal, 9-5 jobs (or even 9-8 jobs), where we could leave our work at the office, we would have a decent shot at being healthy, happy people. As it is, everything suffers: church life, friendships, opportunities for romance, social circle generally, volunteerism, sleep (both quantity obtained and ability to fall asleep), health, prayer life, self-discipline, ability to function without sugar/caffeine/cigarettes/prescription drugs/alcohol/vast amounts of TV….

Maybe it’s not this bad for everyone, but I’m know I’m not the only grad student who’s lonely – and I honestly think many that I know are socially impaired (despite their ability to banter up a storm at happy hour). Can I say how annoying it is, say, to walk past on the street a friend of my roommate that I’ve 1) had drinks with, in a small group, and enjoyed and 2) hosted at my house for a party, and have him copiously look the other way, probably for no other reason that he feels awkward? Have parents stopped teaching their kids that that eye contact is a basic social duty?

Youtube is good for building up (or: Vivaldi’s “Sicut erat in principio”)

My efforts to make a playlist for my blog (like my friend Denise has on hers [ http://www.basilea.blogspot.com ] – I consider her blog a model combination of good design, great pictures, and neat features, none of which I know how to do) of favorite classical music dealing with death and resurrection were thwarted, since finetune doesn’t work on WordPress, and the music player that does work has a bad selection. But Youtube might fill some of the gap!

I’ve recently discovered that I really like Vivaldi. There’s no comparison to Bach, of course – something about his music seems too slick and happy-dappy – but it’s good, and in some cases, like Dixit Dominus’s “Sicut erat in principio” (“as it was in the beginning”) pretty close to my idea of heaven. This is the kind of song that can help you get into “the zone” and put in three more hours of Akkadian when all you want to do is sleep.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PprkMPEGGHY&feature=related

It’s so catchy, yet so driving and relentless, seemingly in the service of something higher. The way the theme is carried on with different variations and voices chiming in reminds me movie shots where the different people will be captured in different places in one scene, as if they were being viewed simultaneously in one moment (like in Mansfield Park or The Darjeeling Limited – the New Yorker calls it a “late tracking shot”) – as if each individual person is doing his own thing but it all makes sense and fits into a glorious whole on a higher level that none of the individual actors can see right now.