From August 4, 2011
Location: Anthem, Arizona
Condition: Determined (Okay, striving to be determined)
I have long since returned to my quiet life in Arizona, and yet the Iliad has not yet become as central of a focus as it needs to be in order to complete the task at hand. I will admit: I should have begun reading it earlier.
And yet, my goal is to finish. I'm very dedicated to goals, especially those that I know are valuable to my future. From what I've heard from current Torrey students, having completed the reading of the Iliad largely determines my quantity (and probably quality) of sleep during Torrientation.
Sleep is a strong motivator. When I think of putting Homer down in favor of another book (or perhaps a movie), I remind myself of the need to sleep well during my first week at Biola...who knows when I will sleep that much once classes start...
Certain things help sustain me through the ugly transition between carefree summer and legitimate learning. In all seriousness, prayer is the main aid. I know God has led me to Biola, and to Torrey as well, and I want to use my time in college wisely.
God also created cocoa beans, which are made into chocolate, and for which I am quite grateful. Becoming a member of the Torrey community before I even set foot on campus, through the Torrey Class of 2015 Facebook page, largely contributes to my determination as well- from these people have come encouragement and laughter, and most importantly a sense of unity. As difficult as it may be to fight procrastination's grasp, the Iliad represents the beginning of my life at Biola- a life that I greatly anticipate.
I must admit that, upon reading the Iliad, there are things one learns about oneself that are quite astonishing. For instance, I have begun to notice how often I calculate the number of pages I have yet to read- and, sadly, have observed the fact that doing so will not magically make the reading quicker. My notes have also taken a rather surprising turn- I see myself altering portions in my notebook when I find an answer to a question previously proposed, or an addition to one still waiting for resolution. And, at some points, I find I have buried myself so deeply in the Iliad that I read more efficiently, with less mental complaints and a deeper understanding of why Homer's works are classics.
The Iliad still pulls me down a long and winding road, dense with figurative language and immense detail, with lists and accounts that elapse multiple pages. The Iliad remains a challenge to my summer-steeped brain, but I believe there may yet be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Adventures in the Iliad: Introduction
From July 17th, 2011
Location: Daytona Beach, Florida
Condition: Semi-Panicked
It is summer. I am in a condo, approximately a five minute walk to the nearest ocean, with family and food and various means of entertainment.
I am reading.
It is not on account of the aforementioned entertainment that I am reading. I am reading because I have homework.
Homework. The word is taboo even though I am no longer in high school. Still unaccepted- I am not supposed to be doing homework. It is summer!
And yet, I have plunged headfirst- quite irresponsibly, actually- into Homer's Iliad, and am nearing the end of the forty-three page introduction as I write this. The journey begun with much trepidation, for I was not aware of what expectations I was approaching, or meeting, or failing to meet. We are required to keep a notebook, which sounds simple enough. Yet as I sat down to begin my notebook I remembered quite vividly being the girl whose notebook- or annotations, etc- was always wildly overdone, and met with disbelief. Why would that girl put so much time into her notebook? What possessed her to annotate so extensively? At times I believed I was one of three people in my class period who could claim to have read the material at all. So I sat at the table, in the condo by the beach, with a bright pink notebook in front of me that had suddenly become very intimidating. I stared at it, then at the Iliad, then at the ceiling, hoping that some sort of revelation would come to me regarding the protocol for such a thing. The question was not "how do I handle homework in the summer?" Nor was it a qualm about the Iliad, for I had loved reading Homer in high school. But perhaps that was just it: I could not look at any of this in any context except that of high school; and high school, by default, had become something I believed myself to be far beyond. Now, looking at the assignment before me, I realized that I saw it through the lens of my high school experience- so there the change must begin.
Alright, easy enough. I would resolve to see my assignment as it really was: college work. But that was not much of an improvement, because college work is ever more intimidating than high school work. What does a good reporter do to get the whole picture? Research. So I visited the Torrey Honors Institute (THI) website to review the guidelines for the notebook. Thinking I would not remember them later, I taped them to the inside of my notebook so I could refer back to them at any time during my note-taking process.
The time came to actually begin the book, and so I began. I flipped the first few pages, past copyrights and title pages and acknowledgements and contents, and came to a rather lengthy introduction. Forty-three pages, to be exact. I stopped cold. Introductions were tiresome enigmas that I learned to dislike at an early age. When I was younger, I developed my now rather acute thirst for reading, and so when I began a book, I read straight through the introduction and then got into the actual text. It didn't take but a few novels to reveal the hidden horror of introductions: they spoil the book. While eloquent, and intellectual, and very useful in hindsight, introductions give much information about the book that the author wished to keep a surprise until the reader came to the point of revelation. I learned, for instance, from reading the introduction to Sense and Sensibility (my favorite novel), that Willoughby is a dirty, selfish crook, and that Edward Ferrars never marries Lucy Steele. (By the way, to anyone who hasn't read S&S, I apologize). I was so heartbroken that these truths had been revealed before Austen intended them to, that my attitude turned strictly against introductions.
Thus I sat, staring at Richmond Lattimore's introduction to the Iliad with a mixture of displeasure and hesitation. Besides my past encounters with introductions, I recalled that they had never significantly aided me in high school (sorry Mr. Hickman!). So why should I read this introduction?
College work...oh yes, I was doing college work. I was attempting to read a foundational text, translated from Greek to English, for an Honors College in which I am blessed to be a member. Whether or not I liked it, I was going to read that introduction.
Location: Daytona Beach, Florida
Condition: Semi-Panicked
It is summer. I am in a condo, approximately a five minute walk to the nearest ocean, with family and food and various means of entertainment.
I am reading.
It is not on account of the aforementioned entertainment that I am reading. I am reading because I have homework.
Homework. The word is taboo even though I am no longer in high school. Still unaccepted- I am not supposed to be doing homework. It is summer!
And yet, I have plunged headfirst- quite irresponsibly, actually- into Homer's Iliad, and am nearing the end of the forty-three page introduction as I write this. The journey begun with much trepidation, for I was not aware of what expectations I was approaching, or meeting, or failing to meet. We are required to keep a notebook, which sounds simple enough. Yet as I sat down to begin my notebook I remembered quite vividly being the girl whose notebook- or annotations, etc- was always wildly overdone, and met with disbelief. Why would that girl put so much time into her notebook? What possessed her to annotate so extensively? At times I believed I was one of three people in my class period who could claim to have read the material at all. So I sat at the table, in the condo by the beach, with a bright pink notebook in front of me that had suddenly become very intimidating. I stared at it, then at the Iliad, then at the ceiling, hoping that some sort of revelation would come to me regarding the protocol for such a thing. The question was not "how do I handle homework in the summer?" Nor was it a qualm about the Iliad, for I had loved reading Homer in high school. But perhaps that was just it: I could not look at any of this in any context except that of high school; and high school, by default, had become something I believed myself to be far beyond. Now, looking at the assignment before me, I realized that I saw it through the lens of my high school experience- so there the change must begin.
Alright, easy enough. I would resolve to see my assignment as it really was: college work. But that was not much of an improvement, because college work is ever more intimidating than high school work. What does a good reporter do to get the whole picture? Research. So I visited the Torrey Honors Institute (THI) website to review the guidelines for the notebook. Thinking I would not remember them later, I taped them to the inside of my notebook so I could refer back to them at any time during my note-taking process.
The time came to actually begin the book, and so I began. I flipped the first few pages, past copyrights and title pages and acknowledgements and contents, and came to a rather lengthy introduction. Forty-three pages, to be exact. I stopped cold. Introductions were tiresome enigmas that I learned to dislike at an early age. When I was younger, I developed my now rather acute thirst for reading, and so when I began a book, I read straight through the introduction and then got into the actual text. It didn't take but a few novels to reveal the hidden horror of introductions: they spoil the book. While eloquent, and intellectual, and very useful in hindsight, introductions give much information about the book that the author wished to keep a surprise until the reader came to the point of revelation. I learned, for instance, from reading the introduction to Sense and Sensibility (my favorite novel), that Willoughby is a dirty, selfish crook, and that Edward Ferrars never marries Lucy Steele. (By the way, to anyone who hasn't read S&S, I apologize). I was so heartbroken that these truths had been revealed before Austen intended them to, that my attitude turned strictly against introductions.
Thus I sat, staring at Richmond Lattimore's introduction to the Iliad with a mixture of displeasure and hesitation. Besides my past encounters with introductions, I recalled that they had never significantly aided me in high school (sorry Mr. Hickman!). So why should I read this introduction?
College work...oh yes, I was doing college work. I was attempting to read a foundational text, translated from Greek to English, for an Honors College in which I am blessed to be a member. Whether or not I liked it, I was going to read that introduction.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
The Road Not Taken
I've always admired people who knew exactly what they wanted; to have a resolute decision and know that it is right- that is something that, with me, has always been easier said than done.
In the pool tonight after dinner, we met a man who told us that it took him thirty years to know what he wanted: to join the Coast Guard. As he tells it, he says he was on a boat about 35 miles off of the Florida shore, and the boat began to sink. Another boat nearby saved him and his fellow passengers, and although it wasn't the most heroic rescue, he thanked God for it. And it led to an epiphany. He wanted to save people from drowning, as he might have had not the other boat been nearby.
Excited to fulfill his dream, he went to enlist in the Coast Guard. Apparently to be in the Coast Guard, one must enlist before his or her 27th birthday. He was thirty.
Stories like these tend to fire up the rusty, semi-functional gears in my brain and make me evaluate what I want in life. After all, I need to know what I'm going to do, or else it might be too late. The hard part, though, is that life does not work this way- at least not for most people. We may plan our entire lives, but end up on a completely different path than we ever expected. We may be called to do something extraordinary- or quite ordinary- when we never expected to be called at all. As I've been reading in McCullough's excellent book, John Adams, sometimes a common, unsuspecting man ends up forging a new nation.
The cure for this unpredictable life we lead is simple: trust in God to lead you in the direction you are meant for. I've learned firsthand that the worst mistake we can make is to think that we have it all figured out- indeed, that we control it, that mysterious stuff that constitutes our future.
The poem "The Road Not Taken" comes to mind (see below). It hails the peculiarities of life that render us traveling down roads we never could have asked for or imagined.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
Dream- know what you want to do. But always remember who is in control.
In the pool tonight after dinner, we met a man who told us that it took him thirty years to know what he wanted: to join the Coast Guard. As he tells it, he says he was on a boat about 35 miles off of the Florida shore, and the boat began to sink. Another boat nearby saved him and his fellow passengers, and although it wasn't the most heroic rescue, he thanked God for it. And it led to an epiphany. He wanted to save people from drowning, as he might have had not the other boat been nearby.
Excited to fulfill his dream, he went to enlist in the Coast Guard. Apparently to be in the Coast Guard, one must enlist before his or her 27th birthday. He was thirty.
Stories like these tend to fire up the rusty, semi-functional gears in my brain and make me evaluate what I want in life. After all, I need to know what I'm going to do, or else it might be too late. The hard part, though, is that life does not work this way- at least not for most people. We may plan our entire lives, but end up on a completely different path than we ever expected. We may be called to do something extraordinary- or quite ordinary- when we never expected to be called at all. As I've been reading in McCullough's excellent book, John Adams, sometimes a common, unsuspecting man ends up forging a new nation.
The cure for this unpredictable life we lead is simple: trust in God to lead you in the direction you are meant for. I've learned firsthand that the worst mistake we can make is to think that we have it all figured out- indeed, that we control it, that mysterious stuff that constitutes our future.
The poem "The Road Not Taken" comes to mind (see below). It hails the peculiarities of life that render us traveling down roads we never could have asked for or imagined.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
Dream- know what you want to do. But always remember who is in control.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
"The Dash"
One of my favorite teachers taught our class a lesson last week, and in some cases I think a few of us became inspired to live differently.
He showed us a video (link below) called “The Dash,” which brings to attention a crucial question in life: how will we live our years- the “dash” between the day we are born and the day we die?
Peter has advice regarding this question. In 1 Peter, he begins by exclaiming “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God” (1:3, 4:1-2). There is little mystery in this: Peter urges us to live our lives for Christ.
Before we delve into the many ways in which to live for Christ, let’s look at how Christ lived his life. We have very few glimpses into his childhood, but we know he was a gentle and conscientious young Jew, who possessed exceptional knowledge of the Scriptures and always asked probing questions to Pharisees, teachers of the law, and common people alike. He taught people as he travelled, picking up twelve disciples and many followers, and healed every person he came into contact with. Then, as we celebrate this weekend, he shared the Last Supper before we was condemned, crucified, and resurrected.
Kind of a hard act to follow…
Although impossible for humans to imitate completely, Jesus’ use of his “dash” serves to compel us to live each day better than the one which preceded it. One of the challenges of this is that our time on earth is finite, and we do not know exactly how finite until it is too late. Peter comments on this as well, instructing us: “Do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:8-9).
Thank you, Jesus, for using your dash in a way that saved us all.
How will you live your dash?
Link: "The Dash" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsY6UrFIsNs
He showed us a video (link below) called “The Dash,” which brings to attention a crucial question in life: how will we live our years- the “dash” between the day we are born and the day we die?
Peter has advice regarding this question. In 1 Peter, he begins by exclaiming “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God” (1:3, 4:1-2). There is little mystery in this: Peter urges us to live our lives for Christ.
Before we delve into the many ways in which to live for Christ, let’s look at how Christ lived his life. We have very few glimpses into his childhood, but we know he was a gentle and conscientious young Jew, who possessed exceptional knowledge of the Scriptures and always asked probing questions to Pharisees, teachers of the law, and common people alike. He taught people as he travelled, picking up twelve disciples and many followers, and healed every person he came into contact with. Then, as we celebrate this weekend, he shared the Last Supper before we was condemned, crucified, and resurrected.
Kind of a hard act to follow…
Although impossible for humans to imitate completely, Jesus’ use of his “dash” serves to compel us to live each day better than the one which preceded it. One of the challenges of this is that our time on earth is finite, and we do not know exactly how finite until it is too late. Peter comments on this as well, instructing us: “Do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:8-9).
Thank you, Jesus, for using your dash in a way that saved us all.
How will you live your dash?
Link: "The Dash" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsY6UrFIsNs
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Awareness
There’s a cheesiness inherent in writing any January blog post concerning “New Year’s Resolutions,” especially as I believe they are a pitiful sham or, at best, a half-baked attempt on the part of an usually well-meaning individual to make him or her self do something which he or she had not the gumption to do when it actually became necessary (say, in March or August). However, regardless of this truth, there is a lesson in Ezekiel 22 that should be implemented in each of our lives this year and for the years following- whether you choose to add this to your list of Resolutions is a matter entirely of choice.*
The title of chapter 22 seems intimidating when first caught by the eye; entitled “Jerusalem’s Sins,” it indeed describes the severe disobedience of the people and the grim consequences of such actions. Phrases such as “O city that brings on herself doom by shedding blood in her midst” (verse three) and “I will gather you and I will blow on you with my fiery wrath” (verse twenty-one) add serious layers, effectively conveying the gravity of the people’s sins to the reader. Perhaps some context will help here- in fact, forsaking context is one of the main reasons why people often misread the Bible. The book of Ezekiel was written by the prophet, Ezekiel, and the preceding chapters explain in more detail the ways in which the people have enraged God. While the chapter is permeated by a descriptive account of these sins and their ramifications, the ending two verses are particularly notable because they offer a solution that the people could have taken to prevent this divine wrath. Verse 30 reads (and the LORD is speaking here): “I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.” A few interesting points appear in these mere thirty-seven words. One is the fact that God says he looked for “a man,” which, if interpreted in accordance with English grammatical standards, means “one man.” I cannot recall the last time I read about a great ruler or even a millionaire or CEO change the expected course of action based upon the fortitude of one person. Those who doubt God’s benevolence need look no further, as it is apparent here. God did not want to punish the people arbitrarily or because he derived some sick enjoyment from it, but because there was not a single person among them who could honestly claim innocence in the situation. Another point is that God speaks of this man building up a wall and standing before him in the gap on behalf of the land. Read over once, this may be missed, but taking another look, the reader envisages a tall brick wall with a courageous person standing atop it saying “God, I know you have every right to destroy this town, but I am wondering if you could please reconsider, based upon the fact that I have not done anything wrong, and that maybe, if given the chance, I could be used by You to help some of my neighbors do right again.” One righteous person could have bridged the gap between God’s wrath and the sinful people.
The word “gap” recalls an interesting phrase in my mind: “Mind the Gap.” A primarily British saying (as far as I have heard), it refers to the Tube (the British Subway train system) and the fact that if one does not “mind the gap” when boarding, one may easily slip and step onto the tracks, causing a very perilous situation. The gap is a danger to the passengers, but it must be crossed in order to enter or exit the train. Indulge me for a moment while I stretch this thought:
Our lives on earth are the gap. On one side we have sin, which is all we have until we decide to follow God; on the other side, we have either a) eternal life, a reward for following his Word and helping to further his kingdom, or b) eternal hell, a punishment for either not following him or turning our backs on him after first joining him. We live in sin until we accept salvation from God- in effect, bridging the gap. If one mere person in Jerusalem had correctly bridged this gap, God’s wrath would not have burned against the people, for he would have used this person to restore them to himself once more.
Perhaps the best way to bridge the gap is to be aware of the necessity of it. Awareness is a powerful tool for change. The mother of Christine Green, the 9-year-old killed in the Saturday Tuscon shooting, expressed her desire for us to be aware of the incredible danger of people like Loughner (the gunman), who is both medically imbalanced and mentally deranged. In our own lives we must be aware, but also in the larger context of our society- one that is rapidly degrading. There is no specified time or place for this; it is an ongoing cause that must be taken up by all of us. While you are making your New Year’s Resolutions, or re-working them from the past week, or whatever it may be, add “being aware of ways to bridge the gap” to your list. Pray about it, and God will show you how you can implement it.
*As a sidenote, I apologize if I offended anybody who is in favor of New Year’s Resolutions. For some they are powerful motivators, and for others, quite ineffective. I guess it is what you make of it.
The title of chapter 22 seems intimidating when first caught by the eye; entitled “Jerusalem’s Sins,” it indeed describes the severe disobedience of the people and the grim consequences of such actions. Phrases such as “O city that brings on herself doom by shedding blood in her midst” (verse three) and “I will gather you and I will blow on you with my fiery wrath” (verse twenty-one) add serious layers, effectively conveying the gravity of the people’s sins to the reader. Perhaps some context will help here- in fact, forsaking context is one of the main reasons why people often misread the Bible. The book of Ezekiel was written by the prophet, Ezekiel, and the preceding chapters explain in more detail the ways in which the people have enraged God. While the chapter is permeated by a descriptive account of these sins and their ramifications, the ending two verses are particularly notable because they offer a solution that the people could have taken to prevent this divine wrath. Verse 30 reads (and the LORD is speaking here): “I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.” A few interesting points appear in these mere thirty-seven words. One is the fact that God says he looked for “a man,” which, if interpreted in accordance with English grammatical standards, means “one man.” I cannot recall the last time I read about a great ruler or even a millionaire or CEO change the expected course of action based upon the fortitude of one person. Those who doubt God’s benevolence need look no further, as it is apparent here. God did not want to punish the people arbitrarily or because he derived some sick enjoyment from it, but because there was not a single person among them who could honestly claim innocence in the situation. Another point is that God speaks of this man building up a wall and standing before him in the gap on behalf of the land. Read over once, this may be missed, but taking another look, the reader envisages a tall brick wall with a courageous person standing atop it saying “God, I know you have every right to destroy this town, but I am wondering if you could please reconsider, based upon the fact that I have not done anything wrong, and that maybe, if given the chance, I could be used by You to help some of my neighbors do right again.” One righteous person could have bridged the gap between God’s wrath and the sinful people.
The word “gap” recalls an interesting phrase in my mind: “Mind the Gap.” A primarily British saying (as far as I have heard), it refers to the Tube (the British Subway train system) and the fact that if one does not “mind the gap” when boarding, one may easily slip and step onto the tracks, causing a very perilous situation. The gap is a danger to the passengers, but it must be crossed in order to enter or exit the train. Indulge me for a moment while I stretch this thought:
Our lives on earth are the gap. On one side we have sin, which is all we have until we decide to follow God; on the other side, we have either a) eternal life, a reward for following his Word and helping to further his kingdom, or b) eternal hell, a punishment for either not following him or turning our backs on him after first joining him. We live in sin until we accept salvation from God- in effect, bridging the gap. If one mere person in Jerusalem had correctly bridged this gap, God’s wrath would not have burned against the people, for he would have used this person to restore them to himself once more.
Perhaps the best way to bridge the gap is to be aware of the necessity of it. Awareness is a powerful tool for change. The mother of Christine Green, the 9-year-old killed in the Saturday Tuscon shooting, expressed her desire for us to be aware of the incredible danger of people like Loughner (the gunman), who is both medically imbalanced and mentally deranged. In our own lives we must be aware, but also in the larger context of our society- one that is rapidly degrading. There is no specified time or place for this; it is an ongoing cause that must be taken up by all of us. While you are making your New Year’s Resolutions, or re-working them from the past week, or whatever it may be, add “being aware of ways to bridge the gap” to your list. Pray about it, and God will show you how you can implement it.
*As a sidenote, I apologize if I offended anybody who is in favor of New Year’s Resolutions. For some they are powerful motivators, and for others, quite ineffective. I guess it is what you make of it.
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