I was just driving along-- minding my own business-- when all of a sudden, someone pulled me over. Seriously. And then, she took some of my money. And she made me take some books. Really. It wasn't my fault.
I got R. L. Stevenson's The Black Arrow, and Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (which is a book about a book lover, like me. Only slightly more depressing than my life). Hardbacks. Old-looking ones. They're great.
I can't believe that lady. The nerve! She knew I wasn't going to stop at her bookstore, because I don't really have the money to spend on books. And she made me take those. What is this world coming to, anyway?
25 April, 2006
24 April, 2006
What a funny man.
From Hilaire Belloc's Moral Alphabet:
W
My little victim, let me trouble you
To fix your active mind on W.
The Waterbeetle here shall teach
A sermon far beyond your reach:
He flabbergasts the Human Race
By gliding on the water's face
With ease, celerity, and grace;
But if he ever stopped to think
Of how he did it, he would sink.
MORAL
Don't ask Questions!
He also wrote several Cautionary Tales for Children. Here are a few titles:
Jim: Who Ran Away from His Nurse, and Was Eaten by a Lion
Henry King: Who Chewed Bits of String, and Was Early Cut Off in Dreadful Agonies
Matilda: Who Told Lies, and Was Burned to Death
Franklin Hyde: Who Caroused in the Dirt and Was Corrected by His Uncle
Godolphin Horne: Who Was Cursed with the Sin of Pride, and Became a Boot-Black
Perhaps my favourite is 'Maria: Who Made Faces and a Deplorable Marraige'.
See what I mean? What a funny man.
W
My little victim, let me trouble you
To fix your active mind on W.
The Waterbeetle here shall teach
A sermon far beyond your reach:
He flabbergasts the Human Race
By gliding on the water's face
With ease, celerity, and grace;
But if he ever stopped to think
Of how he did it, he would sink.
MORAL
Don't ask Questions!
He also wrote several Cautionary Tales for Children. Here are a few titles:
Jim: Who Ran Away from His Nurse, and Was Eaten by a Lion
Henry King: Who Chewed Bits of String, and Was Early Cut Off in Dreadful Agonies
Matilda: Who Told Lies, and Was Burned to Death
Franklin Hyde: Who Caroused in the Dirt and Was Corrected by His Uncle
Godolphin Horne: Who Was Cursed with the Sin of Pride, and Became a Boot-Black
Perhaps my favourite is 'Maria: Who Made Faces and a Deplorable Marraige'.
See what I mean? What a funny man.
20 April, 2006
This makes me laugh.
Maybe this is common knowledge, but I just found out. I thought I'd share the information, the insanity, and the overwhelming urge to snort. Evidently, tobacco companies are required to advertise against their own products. It's incredible, I know. But it's true. I saw a commercial on television urging kids not to smoke. I saw that it was put out by Phillip-Morris. 'That's odd,' I thought. 'Doesn't Phillip-Morris produce cigarettes?' I asked my parents and they told me that all tobacco companies must do this. I laughed. Surely not. Surely the government isn't so ridiculous as to order a company to sabotage it's own business.
Alas.
Alas.
17 April, 2006
16 April, 2006
13 April, 2006
Community: otherwise known as,'I can't believe I'm posting twice in one day!'
Rose and I have been talking quite a bit lately. We chat over g-mail nearly every day, I've seen her three times this week, and I'll see her again tonight. Also, the e-mails have been flying back and forth like you wouldn't believe. It's been pretty interesting to get her perspective on the things that have been happening in our church. She's always interested in hearing what I have to say, too, which is encouraging to me. One of the main topics of conversation has been community and the fact that churches in our town, especially ones that call themselves reformed, don't have any fellowship with each other. It's odd that those who are supposed to be known by their love for one another don't ever see each other.
As a result of this scarceness of community, Rose has been getting to know some of the ladies that attend Grace OPC, and she and Tony have been attending Grace's Wednesday night prayer meetings every week. We were discussing this, over e-mail, when she said something like,'Now you're in on my secret...' She mentioned that she didn't talk about this fellowship with anyone else because of the unpleasant reaction she expected. I think the session might not like it, because of past relationships that are now severed, so I'm inclined to agree with her, and not spread it around too much. Here's what I wrote back:
And now you're in on mine. :) I don't usually talk about such controversial topics with anyone but Kelly, Robert, the Cumbees, and the Stuarts. Now you and Tony know that I'm not really presbyterian...it's a good thing I know your secret-- now I don't have to kill you. I have a guarantee that you won't talk: I know what you do on Wednesday nights!!! Mwa ha ha ha ha! ;)
Seriously, I don't think there's anything wrong with having a group of friends that go to another church; nor is it wrong to attend that church's activities. Especially if the church you attend is so young that there isn't a good, deep community yet. Mom said it's kind of like how babies learn; they either learn to walk or talk, but not both at the same time. They only have the energy for one thing, and she thinks that's the way our church is functioning now. It'll be a while before we're a body of friends AND a body of saints. So, I'm all for extending our community to include Grace. And it sounds like they're interested in befriending us, too.
But, you're right. There's a reason I don't tell people certain of my beliefs: it makes them nervous. They've never thought those things out, so all I get is a gut reaction...and it's usually negative. So, no one knows what I really think, which is odd; it seems like everyone would, the way they talk about me being so opinionated. I'm not sure, still, where to draw the line between being secretive, and being argumentative. I used to lean towards argumentative. Now I think I lean more towards secretive. It shows itself especially with my parents. It's not that I hide my thoughts from them, but I certainly don't pick fights. And when they ask for my opinion, I tell them, doing my best to be tactful. So, sometimes I feel like I'm being deceptive, and other times I feel like I'm being quarrelsome.
_________________
What began as a mere agreement became a short essay. That's been happening a lot lately. So, here's what I want to know: does anyone have any idea where that line between deception and thunder-puppyness is? And what can we do when we have a church that doesn't fellowship, within or without?
As a result of this scarceness of community, Rose has been getting to know some of the ladies that attend Grace OPC, and she and Tony have been attending Grace's Wednesday night prayer meetings every week. We were discussing this, over e-mail, when she said something like,'Now you're in on my secret...' She mentioned that she didn't talk about this fellowship with anyone else because of the unpleasant reaction she expected. I think the session might not like it, because of past relationships that are now severed, so I'm inclined to agree with her, and not spread it around too much. Here's what I wrote back:
And now you're in on mine. :) I don't usually talk about such controversial topics with anyone but Kelly, Robert, the Cumbees, and the Stuarts. Now you and Tony know that I'm not really presbyterian...it's a good thing I know your secret-- now I don't have to kill you. I have a guarantee that you won't talk: I know what you do on Wednesday nights!!! Mwa ha ha ha ha! ;)
Seriously, I don't think there's anything wrong with having a group of friends that go to another church; nor is it wrong to attend that church's activities. Especially if the church you attend is so young that there isn't a good, deep community yet. Mom said it's kind of like how babies learn; they either learn to walk or talk, but not both at the same time. They only have the energy for one thing, and she thinks that's the way our church is functioning now. It'll be a while before we're a body of friends AND a body of saints. So, I'm all for extending our community to include Grace. And it sounds like they're interested in befriending us, too.
But, you're right. There's a reason I don't tell people certain of my beliefs: it makes them nervous. They've never thought those things out, so all I get is a gut reaction...and it's usually negative. So, no one knows what I really think, which is odd; it seems like everyone would, the way they talk about me being so opinionated. I'm not sure, still, where to draw the line between being secretive, and being argumentative. I used to lean towards argumentative. Now I think I lean more towards secretive. It shows itself especially with my parents. It's not that I hide my thoughts from them, but I certainly don't pick fights. And when they ask for my opinion, I tell them, doing my best to be tactful. So, sometimes I feel like I'm being deceptive, and other times I feel like I'm being quarrelsome.
_________________
What began as a mere agreement became a short essay. That's been happening a lot lately. So, here's what I want to know: does anyone have any idea where that line between deception and thunder-puppyness is? And what can we do when we have a church that doesn't fellowship, within or without?
Attention Deficit Hyperness Disorder, as applies to books
I've made a couple of changes to my book list; it wasn't quite up-to-date. I came back from my visit in Virginia with a handful of books to read, and I haven't finished any of them yet. I have such a hard time concentrating on a book once I've started it. That is, as my friend Kelly says, I have 'book ADHD'. I can remember where I am in 40 books at once; I've done it before. But I can't confine myself to reading one book at a time. I start one, and then, I see another that looks interesting, and so I start that one too. And pretty soon, I have a whole shelf full of books that I'm reading. Then, the more 'boring' books, or the slower ones, get pushed down the list until I haven't picked them up in a few months, or maybe a year. Like Moby Dick. I pick that up about once a year, generally in the fall; I read a chapter, and then I put it down again until the next fall. I'm afraid that if this goes on, I will never finish it.
On the other hand, when I got back I picked up Lorna Doone and haven't put it down since. I love Blackmore's writing style, I love the hero, I love the countryside setting, I love to hate the Doones, I love and pity Lorna; in short, I love everything about the book. I will be sad when I finish it. I'll probably read it again, like Narnia, the Lord of the Rings, and Lewis' space trilogy.
Why does this happen? How can I pick up Austen one year and hate it; and the next year, pick up the same book and love it? Am I really that fickle?!
I've tried several times, without much long-term success, to tame this habit of mine. One week I picked up five books that I needed to read and had already started, but that had been sitting, forlorn, for a month or so. I decided to read only those books for that week. I read one of them only at lunch, one only in the afternoons, one just after supper, and one right before bed. The fifth I carried around with me everywhere and read whenever I had a chance. I read at least a chapter from each every day. This was a good plan. What happened, you ask? I don't know. I finished those books and then gave up my plan. I guess I just don't have enough stick-to-itiveness.
So the funny thing is, when I finish a book I write down the title and the date finished. But really, the date finished has nothing to do with anything, because I could have read the entire book but one chapter last year; and just this week decided to finish that last chapter. So when I tell people what I've finished reading lately, they're always really impressed. But they shouldn't be, because I haven't actually been reading those books lately. I only happened to read that last little bit just before they asked. I've thought about explaining all of this to those oh-so-impressed people, so as to set them straight, and not take too much credit, but I decided that it's too complicated and they would only nod and ignore what I was saying, anyway.
Now, however, I feel a bit better. I've explained to at least two people (the only two that read this) how very, very devious I am. ;)
On the other hand, when I got back I picked up Lorna Doone and haven't put it down since. I love Blackmore's writing style, I love the hero, I love the countryside setting, I love to hate the Doones, I love and pity Lorna; in short, I love everything about the book. I will be sad when I finish it. I'll probably read it again, like Narnia, the Lord of the Rings, and Lewis' space trilogy.
Why does this happen? How can I pick up Austen one year and hate it; and the next year, pick up the same book and love it? Am I really that fickle?!
I've tried several times, without much long-term success, to tame this habit of mine. One week I picked up five books that I needed to read and had already started, but that had been sitting, forlorn, for a month or so. I decided to read only those books for that week. I read one of them only at lunch, one only in the afternoons, one just after supper, and one right before bed. The fifth I carried around with me everywhere and read whenever I had a chance. I read at least a chapter from each every day. This was a good plan. What happened, you ask? I don't know. I finished those books and then gave up my plan. I guess I just don't have enough stick-to-itiveness.
So the funny thing is, when I finish a book I write down the title and the date finished. But really, the date finished has nothing to do with anything, because I could have read the entire book but one chapter last year; and just this week decided to finish that last chapter. So when I tell people what I've finished reading lately, they're always really impressed. But they shouldn't be, because I haven't actually been reading those books lately. I only happened to read that last little bit just before they asked. I've thought about explaining all of this to those oh-so-impressed people, so as to set them straight, and not take too much credit, but I decided that it's too complicated and they would only nod and ignore what I was saying, anyway.
Now, however, I feel a bit better. I've explained to at least two people (the only two that read this) how very, very devious I am. ;)
10 April, 2006
How do you spell 'Berean', anyway?
I've had several interesting conversations over the past couple of days; one taking place yesterday morning, rather unexpectedly. My friend Rose asked me a complicated question and even though I tried to answer concisely, thus keeping the controversy to a minimum, it blew up in my face and I ended up explaining a lot more than I wanted.* Also, I got Credenda/Agenda's special issue on 'That Wonderful Cup', which is entirely about paedocommunion, so controversy has been on my mind lately.
Something I've noticed, re:controversy, is that the Book of Church Order (cue impressive music) has nearly replaced the Bible as the standard for presbyterian doctrine. For instance, what was all that mess in Virginia about? The BCO. And what do I hear when I ask questions of people at my church? Whatever the BCO says. It's automatic--there isn't any question of whether or not it complies with Scripture. I think this is tied in with my previous questions; if we have a church that doesn't understand Biblical government and authority, and they aren't teaching people wisdom and discernment, but only to blindly trust, then the logical result is rote recital of the only standard that is known and Bereanism is thrown to the wayside. This is also why we have 'troublemakers'-- we're those people that ask uncomfortable questions. 'Yes, but...what does the Bible say?'
The misunderstanding of these things contributes to the problem with the church today: paedocommunion, eldership, the BCO, authority, membership, and baptism. I'm not entirely sure how exactly they fit together, but I think I'm well on my way to figuring it out.
Here's an excerpt from a post by Mr. Colvin (Dr.?) that explains a bit of the puzzle:
'Pastors must come to realize that they do not have the right, let alone the duty, of examining the infants of believers to admit them to the Supper, anymore than they have the right to refuse to baptize the infants of believers. If we only confront such pastors with lots of cute communing babies -- like so many Hallmark cards or advertisements for Pampers -- then we are not challenging them at the crux of the issue: it is about their wrongful usurpation of power and unbiblical judgment of others, not about the precociousness of any toddlers.'
____________
*NB- I try not to discuss these sorts of things until I feel like I can adequately explain and defend my opinions. I didn't think I could, but it turned out pretty well.
Something I've noticed, re:controversy, is that the Book of Church Order (cue impressive music) has nearly replaced the Bible as the standard for presbyterian doctrine. For instance, what was all that mess in Virginia about? The BCO. And what do I hear when I ask questions of people at my church? Whatever the BCO says. It's automatic--there isn't any question of whether or not it complies with Scripture. I think this is tied in with my previous questions; if we have a church that doesn't understand Biblical government and authority, and they aren't teaching people wisdom and discernment, but only to blindly trust, then the logical result is rote recital of the only standard that is known and Bereanism is thrown to the wayside. This is also why we have 'troublemakers'-- we're those people that ask uncomfortable questions. 'Yes, but...what does the Bible say?'
The misunderstanding of these things contributes to the problem with the church today: paedocommunion, eldership, the BCO, authority, membership, and baptism. I'm not entirely sure how exactly they fit together, but I think I'm well on my way to figuring it out.
Here's an excerpt from a post by Mr. Colvin (Dr.?) that explains a bit of the puzzle:
'Pastors must come to realize that they do not have the right, let alone the duty, of examining the infants of believers to admit them to the Supper, anymore than they have the right to refuse to baptize the infants of believers. If we only confront such pastors with lots of cute communing babies -- like so many Hallmark cards or advertisements for Pampers -- then we are not challenging them at the crux of the issue: it is about their wrongful usurpation of power and unbiblical judgment of others, not about the precociousness of any toddlers.'
____________
*NB- I try not to discuss these sorts of things until I feel like I can adequately explain and defend my opinions. I didn't think I could, but it turned out pretty well.
07 April, 2006
Fun with verbs!
absquatulate: to flee, make off; abscond.
defenestrate: to throw out of a window.
lapidate: to stone.
maffick: to rejoice with an extravagant and boisterous public celebration.
spanghew: to cause a frog or toad to fly up in the air.
whinge: to complain fretfully, to whine.
Now...how to incorporate these into my everyday conversation?
-------
Also, more silliness can be found here. My favourite is 'Swedish Chef'. Bork bork bork!
defenestrate: to throw out of a window.
lapidate: to stone.
maffick: to rejoice with an extravagant and boisterous public celebration.
spanghew: to cause a frog or toad to fly up in the air.
whinge: to complain fretfully, to whine.
Now...how to incorporate these into my everyday conversation?
-------
Also, more silliness can be found here. My favourite is 'Swedish Chef'. Bork bork bork!
I delight in C.S. Lewis.
Perelandra
[Page 214 & 17: The eldila speak...]
It is loaded with justice as a tree bows down with fruit. All is righteousness and there is no equality. Not as when stones lie side by side, but as when stones support and are supported in an arch, such is His order; rule and obedience, begetting and bearing, heat glancing down, life growing up. Blessed be He!
He has immeasurable use for each thing that is made, that His love and splendour may flow forth like a strong river which has need of a great watercourse and fills alike the deep pools and the little crannies, that are filled equally and remain unequal; and when it has filled them brim full it flows over and makes new channels. We also have need beyond measure of all that He has made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely necessary to you and for your delight I was made. Blessed be He!
He has no need at all of anything that is made. An eldil is not more needful to Him than a grain of the Dust: a peopled world no more needful than a world that is empty: but all needless alike, and what all add to Him is nothing. We also have no need of anything that is made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely superfluous, and your love shall be like His, born neither of your need nor of my deserving, but a plain bounty. Blessed be He!
_____________
[Page 193: Jane misunderstands MacPhee's discourse on the 'impartial investigation' of all that's been happening...]
'There's such a thing as loyalty,' said Jane. MacPhee, who had been carefully shutting up the snuff-box, suddenly looked up with a hundred covenanters in his eyes.
'There is, Ma'am,' he said. 'As you get older you will learn that it is a virtue too important to be lavished on individual personalities.'
___________
[Page 303: Ivy Maggs speaks to Jane...]
I remember one day-- it was before you came-- Mother Dimble was saying something to the Doctor; and there he was sitting reading something, you know the way he does, with his fingers under some of the pages and a pencil in his hand-- not the way you or I'd read-- and he just said, 'Yes, dear,' and we both of us knew he hadn't been listening. And I said, 'There you are, Mother Dimble,' said I, 'that's how they treat us once they're married. They don't even listen to what we say,' I said. And do you know what she said? 'Ivy Maggs,' said she, 'did it ever come into your mind to ask whether anyone could listen to all we say?' Those were her very words. Of course I wasn't going to give in to it, not before him, so I said, 'Yes, they could.' But it was a fair knock-out. You know how often I've been talking to my husband for a long time and he's looked up and asked me what I've been saying and, do you know? I haven't been able to remember myself!
_______
[Page 214 & 17: The eldila speak...]
It is loaded with justice as a tree bows down with fruit. All is righteousness and there is no equality. Not as when stones lie side by side, but as when stones support and are supported in an arch, such is His order; rule and obedience, begetting and bearing, heat glancing down, life growing up. Blessed be He!
He has immeasurable use for each thing that is made, that His love and splendour may flow forth like a strong river which has need of a great watercourse and fills alike the deep pools and the little crannies, that are filled equally and remain unequal; and when it has filled them brim full it flows over and makes new channels. We also have need beyond measure of all that He has made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely necessary to you and for your delight I was made. Blessed be He!
He has no need at all of anything that is made. An eldil is not more needful to Him than a grain of the Dust: a peopled world no more needful than a world that is empty: but all needless alike, and what all add to Him is nothing. We also have no need of anything that is made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely superfluous, and your love shall be like His, born neither of your need nor of my deserving, but a plain bounty. Blessed be He!
_____________
That Hideous Strength
[Page 193: Jane misunderstands MacPhee's discourse on the 'impartial investigation' of all that's been happening...]
'There's such a thing as loyalty,' said Jane. MacPhee, who had been carefully shutting up the snuff-box, suddenly looked up with a hundred covenanters in his eyes.
'There is, Ma'am,' he said. 'As you get older you will learn that it is a virtue too important to be lavished on individual personalities.'
___________
[Page 303: Ivy Maggs speaks to Jane...]
I remember one day-- it was before you came-- Mother Dimble was saying something to the Doctor; and there he was sitting reading something, you know the way he does, with his fingers under some of the pages and a pencil in his hand-- not the way you or I'd read-- and he just said, 'Yes, dear,' and we both of us knew he hadn't been listening. And I said, 'There you are, Mother Dimble,' said I, 'that's how they treat us once they're married. They don't even listen to what we say,' I said. And do you know what she said? 'Ivy Maggs,' said she, 'did it ever come into your mind to ask whether anyone could listen to all we say?' Those were her very words. Of course I wasn't going to give in to it, not before him, so I said, 'Yes, they could.' But it was a fair knock-out. You know how often I've been talking to my husband for a long time and he's looked up and asked me what I've been saying and, do you know? I haven't been able to remember myself!
_______
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