Something in the Hearts of Men

pinterest

that is our shield-ring, our last stronghold;

not the barrier fells

and the totter-moss between,

but something in the hearts of men.

- rosemary sutcliff, the shield ring

Mirriam - it is always Mirriam's fault, isn't it? - wrote a post recently called "God Is Not Your Bestie," a good and all-too-brief defense of reverence in our relationship to God.  In my own circles I see very little of the phenomenon that would treat God like a member of one's exclusive high-school clique, and I'm very glad for it.  However, you can't very well live in this day and age without in some way coming into contact with a larger trend, of which I would argue our insipid treatment of the Most High God is but a (very telling) symptom. 

For our "spiritual life" (a silly phrase, as if our "spiritual lives" were not integrally tied to our "physical lives") is not the only area lacking in proper reverence; God is not the only one or thing to which we owe more respect than we give - although He is of course the only One deserving of our all.  Over the last three centuries or so we have elevated the individual and lowered the "great ones of the earth," a leveling process which has in many ways made society more pleasant and equitable, but which has also married lack of respect to great selfishness.  Not to say, of course, that mankind has not always been selfish.  We just happen nowadays to have a philosophy built around it.

This marriage, I would argue, has given birth to the offhandedness of modern Christianity and the want of depth in so many aspects of life.  What have we done, for instance, with the ideal of friendship?  Mirriam talked in her post about how we cheapen God by making Him our "bestie," but let us also talk about how we cheapen friendship with talk of "besties" at all!  I would hardly hold the three (four? D'Artagnan is forever complicating matters) musketeers up as models to be emulated, but at least Dumas was able to present a smashing good picture of loyalty in his D'Artagnan romances.  Sutcliff does much the same thing, though in a quieter way, and captures also some of the beauty of romantic love - which cannot be said of Dumas and can rarely be said of professing Christians.

There are things in life worthy of respect, even of reverence, and we too often miss the mark.  When God has instituted something beautiful as part of the revelation of His own Beauty, we ought to do our darnedest to capture it in as much of its glory and dignity as we are able.  Dumas and Sutcliff got it right.  Should we not rival unbelievers in our appreciation for the high things of the world, in our lives and consequently in our writing as well?

Ha Ha! To the Old Year

yes, this is from pinterest

I'm not much of one for making concrete resolutions for the new year when January 1 rolls around.  There is something embarrassingly cliche about making a list of things you Will Do Come Hell or High Water (or February).  Besides, as a friend observed cheekily in commenting on 2013 -

I find measuring events by their relation to the revolution of the earth about the sun to be so pre-Industrial Revolution.

But we tend to make resolutions all the same, or at least I do.  And perhaps it's because, though January 1 is just another day signifying that, yes, the earth continues to truck around the sun, there is something built in to the human psyche that craves the feeling of newness and rebirth.  Life is full of cycles, and I think God made us to see and appreciate the patterns He's built into the world.  They provide, after all, a comforting reminder of His faithfulness and wisdom.

This is not to say that I will be making resolutions proper; Jenny already offered an excellent caveat to that.  Nonetheless, the start of 2014 seems a good time to pause, say "ha ha! to the old year," and think a little about the one ahead.  It promises something of minor interest for me: I'll be turning eighteen, which is somehow exciting (something about being able to vote, I understand) and supposedly a threshold into adult life.  I don't know about that.  I tend to think I have either been an adult for a while or will not be one for a while yet, but we oughtn't contradict Them in matters like these. 

On a more mundane note, in a few days I'll be toddling back to college for a new semester.  (According to my own misstatement, I'm going to be "an upper Freshman.")  Full of quarks and Japanese history, this promises to be a more intense semester than the last and once again I make no promises as to the regularity of my posting.  However, as I wade back into the world of syllabi and deadlines, I do hope to use what free time I have in a more productive fashion.  No doubt I'll spend most of my day studying and panicking, as I did during the fall, but I know I can make use of the bits and pieces of extra time if I only apply myself with a little more diligence.  When you've been plugging away at something mentally taxing, it's all too easy to spend the in between moments doing comfortingly mindless nothings that in moderation are refreshing, and in excess are a waste of your existence.

"KILLING TIME!" roared the dog - so furiously that his alarm went off.  "It's bad enough wasting time without killing it."

- tock, the phantom tollbooth

We're meant to do all to the glory of God, and to live diligently and wisely in this world - and though I suppose you could say that somehow we can pin to the glory of God, I've got to admit that I don't see how Pinterest helps us be salt and light or even a contributing member of society. I like Pinterest, of course, but using a spare moment to work on a review for Squeaky Clean Reviews or chip away at the rewrite of Wordcrafter would be a far more worthwhile undertaking than scrolling through boards.

And it seems to me that if one is old enough to vote on the political future of a nation, one is old enough to engage with dedication in a few worthwhile undertakings.