I've long been fascinated by the idea that the way we experience music today has very little to do with they way our forebears experienced music. Let's start, say, forty years ago and take a meandering journey through music history. 8-tracks. They were the rage! You could easily control your musical selection in your car, a first since the radio music was still at the mercy of a dj. Then came cassette tapes, a more compact way to tote music. Walkmen started showing up. Let's not forget ghetto blasters as some sort of paragon of portable music. Then we moved into CDs, Discmen, mp3s, mp3 players, and the mass popularizer of the last item, the iPod. This progression shows that music has become more and more portable, and at the same time, more and more private.
Before 8-tracks, there were records, which were played in a more stationary setting. Before that, you pretty much relied on live performance. Over the last several hundred years, live music with instrumentation was most often found in the church, as chamber music for the noble class, or with cruder minstrel instruments. Celebrations such as weddings found live music, but again, this was more of a luxury. Without instruments, communal singing occurred in the setting of work (or religious chant, but that's beside this point). Chain gangs or plantation workers sang together. Women sang in the kitchen or over the wash. Perhaps a couple of people with a banjo or harmonica played on a porch on summer evenings, a la the minstrel.
The point is, technology has brought about a democratization of music. Just about everyone in America has some form of personal music player. What's more, these devices are giving us an unprecedented amount of control over our music selection. I can choose the very song I want to listen to and almost instantly access it. Contrast this with how instrumented music happened all the way up to the early 1900s. Outside of church music, people rarely heard highly trained and talented musicians playing music. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most of the population. I call on Cake to give us the picture, in their song "Commissioning a Symphony in C." An Austrian nobleman puts on a symphony. "With money you squeezed from the peasants/To your nephew you can give it [the symphony] as a present." Part of the subplot is the nobleman's self-consciousness and his attempts to impress people. "You enter the room with great caution/Though no one in the hall is even watching/They are transfixed/They are forgetting just to breathe/They are so taken by your symphony in C." Most of the people in attendance could only experience this kind of musical mastery once in a great while. The nobleman probably had a chamber orchestra to entertain him at regular intervals. But the common folk are mesmerized by the beauty of the performance.
So the question is this: Were we meant to enjoy music in rapturous once-in-a-lifetime moments? Or on a completely on-demand basis? Somewhere in between? We still have the "Symphony in C" moments. People listen to U2 for years and years and have every one of their songs memorized. Then U2 comes to town. An individual will drop hundreds of dollars to be in attendance to hear well-produced songs they've memorized be performed imperfectly. But live. Those are the moments we grab for. We can relive them only in our minds. There's no way we can experience the frenzy of the crowd (at the rock concert) or the delicate harmonics (at the orchestra) again, or at least till we go to the next event. We savor those moments that we've shared with our fellow concert goers. But in the meantime, we come back to our well-produced albums in the (dis)comfort of our earbuds to listen to the same songs over and over again.
Think about how special music was before electronic technology went all crazy and made it accessible to everyone all the time.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Zorro psychology
I've begun discovering more about "masks" that we as people wear. I've known for a while that people (including me) put up these fronts ("Why you frontin', man?") to portray an ideal self, when there may be no truth to it at all, or at most, a very little grain of truth. But I've also been wrestling recently with the idea of the true self and how much we can change it.
My current operating theory is that we can become what we want one of two ways. One way leads to the true self (because it is itself the true self), and the other way leads nowhere, because it is a shortcut. We can become the ideal self to other people by wearing masks. That works fine for a while, and it may work really well for a really long time, but there will come a point where the pressure of pretense is too great, and the ensuing explosion blows off the mask. The better way to become the real ideal is to know or have an idea what you want to become and, having that goal in mind, grow into it.
I characterize it in a very simplistic way: The kid who dreams of being big but doesn't want to wait finds a kid who's smaller than he is and bullies him. The kid with a longer, more healthy view will dream the same dreams, but will eat well, exercise, get plenty of sleep and drink lots of water. He will actually grow into a big person rather than frontin' with a bully mask.
My current operating theory is that we can become what we want one of two ways. One way leads to the true self (because it is itself the true self), and the other way leads nowhere, because it is a shortcut. We can become the ideal self to other people by wearing masks. That works fine for a while, and it may work really well for a really long time, but there will come a point where the pressure of pretense is too great, and the ensuing explosion blows off the mask. The better way to become the real ideal is to know or have an idea what you want to become and, having that goal in mind, grow into it.
I characterize it in a very simplistic way: The kid who dreams of being big but doesn't want to wait finds a kid who's smaller than he is and bullies him. The kid with a longer, more healthy view will dream the same dreams, but will eat well, exercise, get plenty of sleep and drink lots of water. He will actually grow into a big person rather than frontin' with a bully mask.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Jerusalem's Prophecy
I find it interesting that when Jeremiah prophesied the first destruction of Jerusalem, he noted that the exile from the land would be seventy years. When Jesus prophesied the fall of Jerusalem late in each of the synoptic gospels, he promised a lot of things, but he never prophesied a rebuilding of the temple or a return from this second exile. Luke's account is most pointed: "They will fall by the sword and will be taken as prisoners to all the nations. Jerusalem will be trampled on by the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled" (TNIV). (NB: "nations" and "Gentiles" are the same word, different case. The Jews are carried to the nations doing the trampling, I would assume.) But there is never a prophecy of a return and reoccupation of Jerusalem by the Jews (or of a temple rebuild).
From a larger perspective, it seems God tells his people what they need to know. The prophets said some cryptic and seemingly unhelpful things, but in retrospect, the prophecy of the return was pretty strong. In fact, there seem to be three returns from where I sit. There's the return to the land, which happened under Cyrus. There's the return of God to his people, which Jesus effected. Then there's the full restoration of creation where God will again dwell fully with people at the end of Isaiah, repeated at the end of Revelation. But there's no return foretold anywhere in Scripture after the temple's second destruction.
I think Jesus' silence on a Jewish reoccupation of Jerusalem is telling. (Note a timetable here: Jesus's prophecies of the destruction of the pretty temple occurred in AD 70. Hadrian overran Jerusalem in AD 135 and banned any Jews from entering it. Jews were only allowed to enter Jerusalem again when it fell under Muslim control in 638.) Should this show us that God is working with a redefined Israel? Jesus rebuilt the nation of Israel around himself. He is the true Jacob, the true Moses, the true Aaron, the true David. He called twelve disciples to be the twelve sons of Israel. He did so much that was symbolic of who he claimed to be, that there is no doubt that the assembly of Jesus followers is the new Israel. (Paul is riddled with this idea too.) Given all of these symbolic actions with explicit statements AND a lack of prophecy of a second return of those who showed themselves to be poser Jews (Pharisees, Saducees, regular Josephs, etc.), why do we keep tearing up the earth to institute something God didn't really intend. (Sure, permissive will or whatever, but God's work is through the body of the new Israel, Jesus.)
It seems that the British agenda in pushing for a Jewish state starting in the twenties has wreaked all manner of havoc in the world. Think of how things would have been different if they hadn't set up the state in 1948. I'm no anti-Semite, and in principle, I'm all for a group of people with a common heritage to have a homeland. Indeed, rabbis over the centuries have longed for and prophesied a resurgence of Judaic practice. But, as a follower of Jesus, I wonder if it was the best thing to push for something that the Bible is silent on. Nothing we can do about it now, except everyone start living like Jesus. Oh, was that the point all along?
From a larger perspective, it seems God tells his people what they need to know. The prophets said some cryptic and seemingly unhelpful things, but in retrospect, the prophecy of the return was pretty strong. In fact, there seem to be three returns from where I sit. There's the return to the land, which happened under Cyrus. There's the return of God to his people, which Jesus effected. Then there's the full restoration of creation where God will again dwell fully with people at the end of Isaiah, repeated at the end of Revelation. But there's no return foretold anywhere in Scripture after the temple's second destruction.
I think Jesus' silence on a Jewish reoccupation of Jerusalem is telling. (Note a timetable here: Jesus's prophecies of the destruction of the pretty temple occurred in AD 70. Hadrian overran Jerusalem in AD 135 and banned any Jews from entering it. Jews were only allowed to enter Jerusalem again when it fell under Muslim control in 638.) Should this show us that God is working with a redefined Israel? Jesus rebuilt the nation of Israel around himself. He is the true Jacob, the true Moses, the true Aaron, the true David. He called twelve disciples to be the twelve sons of Israel. He did so much that was symbolic of who he claimed to be, that there is no doubt that the assembly of Jesus followers is the new Israel. (Paul is riddled with this idea too.) Given all of these symbolic actions with explicit statements AND a lack of prophecy of a second return of those who showed themselves to be poser Jews (Pharisees, Saducees, regular Josephs, etc.), why do we keep tearing up the earth to institute something God didn't really intend. (Sure, permissive will or whatever, but God's work is through the body of the new Israel, Jesus.)
It seems that the British agenda in pushing for a Jewish state starting in the twenties has wreaked all manner of havoc in the world. Think of how things would have been different if they hadn't set up the state in 1948. I'm no anti-Semite, and in principle, I'm all for a group of people with a common heritage to have a homeland. Indeed, rabbis over the centuries have longed for and prophesied a resurgence of Judaic practice. But, as a follower of Jesus, I wonder if it was the best thing to push for something that the Bible is silent on. Nothing we can do about it now, except everyone start living like Jesus. Oh, was that the point all along?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Eutopia
I just attended a lecture about the importance of a good city environment to William Penn. I've read books about the so-called New Urbanism. These experiences have instilled in me a great appreciation for place. Consider my excitement when I, an etymologist, thought I discovered that the word "utopia" came from the Greek eu- "good" + topos "place." Utopia is obviously a "good place." Imagine my shock and despair when I found out that "utopia" actually comes from ou- "no, not, without" paired with "place." I haven't studied Thomas More at all, but when I hear that the ideal place is no place or a lack of place, my hackles rise up to confront (in a Christian, non-violent way) the Gnostic heretic. But one more etymological note: the lexical opposite of utopia is dystopia, which is derived from the Greek for "bad place." Why the heck would "no place" be the opposite of "bad place"?
I have a couple of ideas about the provenance of these repugnant words (or rather, the vile masquerader utopia; at least dystopia could be useful). The idea of an ideal seems to spring from Plato's ideas. (They're like the people chained up in the cave, in the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy.—Thanks, TMBG.) An ideal was necessarily not real; it had no root in reality. The only use that school of thought had for reality was that it was a dim shadow of the ideal. So in a rigidly literal sense, an ideal place would be a "no" place. I'm sure different people have noted this, but I first heard Andy Crouch talk about traveling to speak at a conference. He said America was increasingly becoming a no place. At home in Massachusetts (at the time, I think) he could visit Starbucks, PF Chang's, the mall or other favorite comfort establishments. He could travel to San Diego and visit the exact same places and expect the same quality. This gave him the comfort of "home," even though it reveals a total lack of home. I believe America has become the Utopia in most cities. We can find everything we're used to with virtually no uniquity. The America most of us live in is indeed a "no place."
Which brings me to my proposal: We need a word for the people who are trying to be creational and redemptive (against Gnosticism) to indicate a very pleasing place. (I would say ideal, but I've already deconstructed that word.) Naturally, I think that word is what I thought utopia was all along: Eutopia, the good place. The only downside is people may be confused by the different spelling. I could also propose syntopia ("with place"), but I think eutopia really works.
A thought about eutopia. It's good to dream of where that might be. Colorado comes very close for me. I don't really want to live anywhere else. But more goes into this than climate and mountains. How does the city look? What is it like to walk in a neighborhood, to get to the local grocer? How is the farm/ranchland? Are all the churces warehouses? (Remember, brothers and sisters, place doesn't matter! We're trying to emulate the no place, languishing till we can shed these shells and get to heaven, the ideal no place! Sorry . . . had to spew a little heresy.) In contrast, the new creation that we will inhabit in the age to come will be the real eutopia.
I have a couple of ideas about the provenance of these repugnant words (or rather, the vile masquerader utopia; at least dystopia could be useful). The idea of an ideal seems to spring from Plato's ideas. (They're like the people chained up in the cave, in the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy.—Thanks, TMBG.) An ideal was necessarily not real; it had no root in reality. The only use that school of thought had for reality was that it was a dim shadow of the ideal. So in a rigidly literal sense, an ideal place would be a "no" place. I'm sure different people have noted this, but I first heard Andy Crouch talk about traveling to speak at a conference. He said America was increasingly becoming a no place. At home in Massachusetts (at the time, I think) he could visit Starbucks, PF Chang's, the mall or other favorite comfort establishments. He could travel to San Diego and visit the exact same places and expect the same quality. This gave him the comfort of "home," even though it reveals a total lack of home. I believe America has become the Utopia in most cities. We can find everything we're used to with virtually no uniquity. The America most of us live in is indeed a "no place."
Which brings me to my proposal: We need a word for the people who are trying to be creational and redemptive (against Gnosticism) to indicate a very pleasing place. (I would say ideal, but I've already deconstructed that word.) Naturally, I think that word is what I thought utopia was all along: Eutopia, the good place. The only downside is people may be confused by the different spelling. I could also propose syntopia ("with place"), but I think eutopia really works.
A thought about eutopia. It's good to dream of where that might be. Colorado comes very close for me. I don't really want to live anywhere else. But more goes into this than climate and mountains. How does the city look? What is it like to walk in a neighborhood, to get to the local grocer? How is the farm/ranchland? Are all the churces warehouses? (Remember, brothers and sisters, place doesn't matter! We're trying to emulate the no place, languishing till we can shed these shells and get to heaven, the ideal no place! Sorry . . . had to spew a little heresy.) In contrast, the new creation that we will inhabit in the age to come will be the real eutopia.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Providential humanism
A few months ago, I was stricken with the worldview of providential humanism. Someone else may have thought of this already, and they may think they're being infringed upon, but the name and complex of concepts came upon me at one particular juncture. I was part of a project that had everything to do with God's work. I was excited about it, so I was pushing to get the word out. We received a very timely admonition from one team member that this was ultimately God's work, so we shouldn't take too much control of how the word spread. While the suggestion toward humility was quite necessary, I think I take (humble) issue with our (lack of) role in the process.
God created us as his co-rulers within the creation. He has uniquely gifted each of us for serving him and each other in our own regency in his kingdom. My area of service happens to be predominately in theology and language (and more pointedly in a mixture of the two), with some dabblings in connecting people to further God's kingdom. So if I have these gifts, do I leave these things "up to God"? I don't think I do. I think I humbly pursue my giftings within my sphere of influence for God's glory. That's what it means to be truly human, and that's what it means to live within God's providence.
I recently sang a song in a "praise and worship" (whatever that means) setting called "Empty Me" by Jeremy Camp. I get the feeling that I rarely understand a song in the way a lyricist intends it, and that's probably the case here. Here are the lyrics:
Holy fire burn away
My desire for anything
That is not of you and is of me
I want more of you
And less of me
Empty me, empty me, fill me
With you, with you
I'm trying to figure out exactly my issue with it. I think it is the "you versus me" attitude. One might call it appropriate humility to say I never end up wanting what God wants, and only what he wants is good. But I think that destroys the possiblity of progress, or better said, redemption in the Christian life. I like to soberly think that I'm desiring things more like Jesus now than I did five years ago. But this song is saying that whatever is of Jesus is good (true) and whatever is of me is bad (untrue). What happened to the fact that I'm God's vice-regent, ruling the portion of creation he has gifted me to rule? If I am humbly pursuing his redemption, I think I can say that his holy fire can burn me and still leave a good portion of me. On a cautionary note, I know that I can make choices beginning today that will drive me further away from God's desire for my life. But the bigger caution goes to living like I'm a robot that used to clutch my own remote, but now has given it to Jesus.
We must live as responsible people in a truly human way under the hand of God Who Provides.
God created us as his co-rulers within the creation. He has uniquely gifted each of us for serving him and each other in our own regency in his kingdom. My area of service happens to be predominately in theology and language (and more pointedly in a mixture of the two), with some dabblings in connecting people to further God's kingdom. So if I have these gifts, do I leave these things "up to God"? I don't think I do. I think I humbly pursue my giftings within my sphere of influence for God's glory. That's what it means to be truly human, and that's what it means to live within God's providence.
I recently sang a song in a "praise and worship" (whatever that means) setting called "Empty Me" by Jeremy Camp. I get the feeling that I rarely understand a song in the way a lyricist intends it, and that's probably the case here. Here are the lyrics:
Holy fire burn away
My desire for anything
That is not of you and is of me
I want more of you
And less of me
Empty me, empty me, fill me
With you, with you
I'm trying to figure out exactly my issue with it. I think it is the "you versus me" attitude. One might call it appropriate humility to say I never end up wanting what God wants, and only what he wants is good. But I think that destroys the possiblity of progress, or better said, redemption in the Christian life. I like to soberly think that I'm desiring things more like Jesus now than I did five years ago. But this song is saying that whatever is of Jesus is good (true) and whatever is of me is bad (untrue). What happened to the fact that I'm God's vice-regent, ruling the portion of creation he has gifted me to rule? If I am humbly pursuing his redemption, I think I can say that his holy fire can burn me and still leave a good portion of me. On a cautionary note, I know that I can make choices beginning today that will drive me further away from God's desire for my life. But the bigger caution goes to living like I'm a robot that used to clutch my own remote, but now has given it to Jesus.
We must live as responsible people in a truly human way under the hand of God Who Provides.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Why do people suffer?
I saw this title on a book, and my first thought was "because good people do nothing." While that's not totally accurate, I think it's true to a large extent. When "atheists" and even well-intentioned Christians ask that question, they are asking the right question, but their answer automatically starts in the wrong category.
The atheistic types are looking for an excuse to deny that the Creator exists. It's an easy jab: "If your God is so good, why do people suffer? Ergo, no God." What if we went with a more humanistic perspective, the way the Bible does? The Creator appointed humans as his co-rulers and gave us large latitude of choice. It seems that people suffer because other people choose to help them suffer. It's an issue of human responsibility; not God's goodness. If God were to take away all suffering, before his appointed time, he would be violating his intention for humanity to rule wisely over his creation.
Why do people suffer? As a result of unwise rule by their fellow humans.
The atheistic types are looking for an excuse to deny that the Creator exists. It's an easy jab: "If your God is so good, why do people suffer? Ergo, no God." What if we went with a more humanistic perspective, the way the Bible does? The Creator appointed humans as his co-rulers and gave us large latitude of choice. It seems that people suffer because other people choose to help them suffer. It's an issue of human responsibility; not God's goodness. If God were to take away all suffering, before his appointed time, he would be violating his intention for humanity to rule wisely over his creation.
Why do people suffer? As a result of unwise rule by their fellow humans.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Humility in Discourse
I love America. Please know that from the beginning.
What I don't get is how we Americans seem to know when being a rebel is right and when it's wrong. I was talking to my wife last night, and she said how she saw all sorts of contraband weapons when she was in Bosnia. The way I understand it, Bosnia was part of Yugoslavia for several generations because the six regions of the country each produced something none of the others had. So they formed a confederation to supply necessities for survival. However, feelings of ethnic superiority rose to the top, and the Serbs started killing the Bosnians. The Bosnians were only able to fight back because they had buried weapons in their backyards or hidden them elsewhere. According to Yugoslav law, it was illegal to own weapons, and it still is under the new governments. But the Bosnians know that there will be another war to reallocate resources, so they stockpile weapons to be ready for it. In my view, these freedom fighters could be seen as pretty noble. They're simply defending their Creator-endowed inalienable rights to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" (though I'm not sure the Creator endowed those rights on them since they seem pretty barbaric and haven't codified that endowment into a constitution or other declaration—that was sarcasm by the way). I also know that this nobility is repugnant to the Serbs. Their attitude seems to be "Won't they just hurry up and die already!"
Every culture seems to have freedom fighters who will take up arms to protect "freedom" from time to time, whether it's Contra rebels that America supported against the Sandanistas or Saddam whom America supported against Iran or the Taliban America supported against Russia or the rebels nobody is supporting against the demonic Janjaweed or our own forebears who supported themselves against the majority populace in the fight against taxes without having a representative in Parliament. Oh. Now that fight is starting to sound a bit silly compared to people who are trying to not die long enough to grow a little bit of crops to eat so they can not die. Regardless, there are people around the world fighting for freedom as they define it. There are some Muslims who see freedom as having their land not be occupied by non-Muslims. We call them terrorists. We invaded Iraq to make it safe for freedom and democracy and keep it from being a haven for terrorists. I've never seen a better terrorist haven! The terrorists seem more entrenched now than ever, and they're very motivated. Is it safe to define "terrorist" as a person who is a very motivated freedom fighter who will resort to any means to make it safe for their way of life? I seem to remember that the British were rather peevish that the Americans didn't line up to get blown up like civilized soldiers.
I guess what I'm saying is that today's America seems very self-absorbed with an inflated self-importance. We seem to define other people's priorities for them, with the major criteria being what's best for us in the moment. (See, for example, our policies in Iran and Iraq in the last forty years. Those are coming back to bite us big time.)
What I am advocating is that America stop playing Omniscient, Omnipotent Nation and in humility seek to serve the nations of the world. I know that silly attitude got one particular wise teacher crucified, but the last post talks about his vindication. And ours if we serve him and live like him.
What I don't get is how we Americans seem to know when being a rebel is right and when it's wrong. I was talking to my wife last night, and she said how she saw all sorts of contraband weapons when she was in Bosnia. The way I understand it, Bosnia was part of Yugoslavia for several generations because the six regions of the country each produced something none of the others had. So they formed a confederation to supply necessities for survival. However, feelings of ethnic superiority rose to the top, and the Serbs started killing the Bosnians. The Bosnians were only able to fight back because they had buried weapons in their backyards or hidden them elsewhere. According to Yugoslav law, it was illegal to own weapons, and it still is under the new governments. But the Bosnians know that there will be another war to reallocate resources, so they stockpile weapons to be ready for it. In my view, these freedom fighters could be seen as pretty noble. They're simply defending their Creator-endowed inalienable rights to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" (though I'm not sure the Creator endowed those rights on them since they seem pretty barbaric and haven't codified that endowment into a constitution or other declaration—that was sarcasm by the way). I also know that this nobility is repugnant to the Serbs. Their attitude seems to be "Won't they just hurry up and die already!"
Every culture seems to have freedom fighters who will take up arms to protect "freedom" from time to time, whether it's Contra rebels that America supported against the Sandanistas or Saddam whom America supported against Iran or the Taliban America supported against Russia or the rebels nobody is supporting against the demonic Janjaweed or our own forebears who supported themselves against the majority populace in the fight against taxes without having a representative in Parliament. Oh. Now that fight is starting to sound a bit silly compared to people who are trying to not die long enough to grow a little bit of crops to eat so they can not die. Regardless, there are people around the world fighting for freedom as they define it. There are some Muslims who see freedom as having their land not be occupied by non-Muslims. We call them terrorists. We invaded Iraq to make it safe for freedom and democracy and keep it from being a haven for terrorists. I've never seen a better terrorist haven! The terrorists seem more entrenched now than ever, and they're very motivated. Is it safe to define "terrorist" as a person who is a very motivated freedom fighter who will resort to any means to make it safe for their way of life? I seem to remember that the British were rather peevish that the Americans didn't line up to get blown up like civilized soldiers.
I guess what I'm saying is that today's America seems very self-absorbed with an inflated self-importance. We seem to define other people's priorities for them, with the major criteria being what's best for us in the moment. (See, for example, our policies in Iran and Iraq in the last forty years. Those are coming back to bite us big time.)
What I am advocating is that America stop playing Omniscient, Omnipotent Nation and in humility seek to serve the nations of the world. I know that silly attitude got one particular wise teacher crucified, but the last post talks about his vindication. And ours if we serve him and live like him.
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