"To live? How?"

"'Why has Thou done all this? Why has Thou brought me here? Why, why dost Thou torment me so terribly?'
He did not expect an answer and yet wept because there was no answer and could be none. The pain again grew more acute, but he did not stir and did not call. He said to himself: 'Go on! Strike me! But what is it for? What have I done to Thee? What is it for?'
Then he grew quiet and not only ceased weeping but even held his breath and became all attention. It was as though he were listening not to an audible voice but to the voice of his soul, to the current of thoughts arising within him.
'What is it you want?' was the first clear conception capable of expression in words, that he heard.
'What do you want? What do you want?' he repeated to himself.
'What do I want? To live and not to suffer,' he answered. And again he listened with such concentrated attention that even his pain did not distract him.
'To live? How?' asked his inner voice.
'Why, to live as I used to--well and pleasantly.'
'As you lived before, well and pleasantly?' the voice repeated.
And in imagination he began to recall the best moments of his pleasant life. But strange to say none of those best moments of his pleasant life now seemed at all what they had then seemed--none of them except the first recollections of childhood. There, in childhood, there had been something really pleasant with which it would be possible to love if it could return. But the child who had experienced that happiness existed no longer, it was like a reminiscence of somebody else...
...And the further he departed from childhood and the nearer he came to the present the more worthless and doubtful were the joys...'It is as if I had been going downhill while I imagined I was going up. And that is really what it was. I was going up in public opinion, but to the same extent life was ebbing away from me. ANd now it is all done and there is only death.'
'Then what does it mean? Why? It can't be that life is so senseless and horrible. But if it really has been so horrible and senseless, why must I die and die in agony? There is something wrong!'
'Maybe I did not live as I ought to have done,' it suddenly occurred to him. 'But how could that be, when I did everything properly?' he replied, and immediately dismissed from his mind this, the sole solution of all the riddles of life and death, as something quite impossible.
'Then what do you want now? To live? Live how? Live as you lived in the law courts when the usher proclaimed 'The judge is coming! The judge is coming, the judge!' he repeated to himself. 'Here he is, the judge. But I am not guilty!' he exclaimed angrily. 'What is it for?' And he ceased crying, but turning his face to the wall continued to ponder on the same question: Why, and for what purpose is there all this horror? But however much he pondered he found no answer. And whenever the thought occurred to him, as it often did, that it all resulted from his not having lived as he ought to have done, he at once recalled the correctness of his whole life and dismissed so strange an idea."

--excerpted from Leo Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilych

"...but for me...it's altogether a different matter"

"The syllogism he had learnt from Kiezewetter's Logic: 'Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal,' had always seemed to him correct as applied to Caius, but certainly not as applied to himself. That Caius--man in the abstract--was mortal, was perfectly correct, but he was not Caius, not an abstract man, but a creature quite, quite separate from all others. He had been little Vanya, with a mamma and a papa, with Mitya and Volodya, with the toys, a coachman and a nurse, afterwards with Katenka and with all the joys, griefs, and delights of childhood, boyhood, and youth. What did Caius know of the smell of that striped leather ball Vanya had been so fond of? Had Caius kissed his mother's hand liek that, and did the silk of her dress rustle so for Caius? Had he rioted like that at school when the pastry was bad? Had Caius been in love like that? Could Caius preside at a session as he did? 'Caius really was mortal, and it was right for him to die; but for me, little Vanya, Ivan Ilych, with all my thoughts and emotions, it's altogether a different matter. It cannot be that I ought to die. That would be too terrible.'"

--excerpted from Leo Tolstoy's The Death of Ivan Ilych

Co-Laborers

"By redeeming the world we do not mean that a Christian redeems the world as Christ redeems the world. The distinction is absolute; only Christ died for the sins of humanity; he is the only Savior, the only one through whom forgiveness is possible. 'There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mean by which we must be saved' (Acts 4:12). In this sense, Christ's work of redemption is unique.

Nevertheless, the Bible makes clear that believers are involved in God's work of redemption since they are representatives of Christ now that he has ascended to be with the Father. So Paul describes himself as an 'ambassador of Christ.' Though as an apostle he has special authority, he includes his colleagues as he writes, 'We are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us' (2 Cor. 5:20).

He emphasizes this in 1 Corinthians 3:5-15 that the one who works is not to be glorified for as he says, 'Only God...gives the growth....You are God's field, God's building' (3:7, 9). Yet the other element is also present and must not be lost while stressing God's activity. As a worker for God, the Christian is a significant co-laborer in the work of reconciliation."

--Macaulay, Ranald & Jerram Barrs. Being Human. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1978, 130.

For Sale

“Let’s go together, you and I, to eBay. I want to look for a watch. I click on watches, and the screen tells me that currently 106,474 of them are for sale. I scroll down the first Web page, and then another, and another. Ah! What is that? I like the way it looks: slim, elegant, original. I click on the picture. It is a Hublot; next to it appears a descriptive phase in quotes: ‘elegant medium.’ I click again and scroll down the page to search for more details. This item, I am told, has the following qualities: ‘stainless steel, 18K White Gold/dia. Bezel, black rubber deployant strap, silver dial, automatic date, sapphire crystal, water resistant, 50m, 32mm.’ The watch is in ‘Pleasant Hill, California, United States.’ What to do, what to do. I adjust the chair I’m sitting in so that the lumbar support is a little stronger; I also drop the seat down a few inches because my back hurts if I look at the screen at too sharp a downward angle. I take a sip of coffee and consider. Various options are before me. The screen tells me that I have one hour and twenty-nine minutes to make a bid. This means I’d better act fast, obviously; the Hublot is very attractive, and it must be getting dozens, maybe hundreds, of bids. Or I could ‘email [the Hublot] to a friend,’ if not interested myself. I could move the Hublot to ‘add to favorite sellers,’ too. If I want, I could ‘get alerts via Text message, IM or Cell phone.’ I could ‘view seller’s other items’ or refine my search. Whatever I decide to do, I should do it quickly. Other people are bidding, and the minutes are ticking away.

Well, I really should relax. I still have an hour to make a bid. So I switch gears a little and click on Match.com, probably the Internet’s most popular dating site. I want to look for a woman. I click on ‘men looking for women.’ The screen tells me that currently there are thirty-two pages of women looking for men. I scroll down the first Web page, and then another, and another. Ah! What is that? I like the way she looks: slim, elegant, original. I click on the picture. Her name is Maeve; next to her appears a descriptive phrase in quotes: ‘Pretty Pisces Seeks…’ I scroll down the page to search for more details. Maeve, I am told, has the following qualities: ‘Divorced, White/Caucasian, Slender, Christian/Catholic, Social drinker, maybe one or two, 5’7” (170cms).’ She is in ‘New York, NY, United States.’ What to do, what to do. I adjust the chair I’m sitting in so that the lumbar support is a little softer; I also raise it slightly because my neck hurts if I look at the screen at too sharp an upward angle. I take a sip of coffee and consider. Various options are before me. The screen tells me that she has been ‘active within 24 hours.’ This means I’d better act fast, obviously; she’s very attractive, and if she’s online so frequently, she must be getting dozens, maybe hundreds, of inquiries. Or I could ‘Forward her to a friend,’ if not interested myself. I could ‘Add her to favorites,’ too. If I want, I could ‘send an email, get notified when your match reads it!’ I could ‘See more like her,’ or refine my search. Whatever I decide to do, I should do it quickly. Other men are interested, and the minutes are ticking away."

--Siegel, Lee. Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob. New York: Siegel & Grau: 2008, 63-64.

A Wonder Just Short of Fear

"If our life is ever really as beautiful as a fairy-tale, we shall have to remember that all the beauty of a fairy-tale lies in this: that the prince has a wonder which just stops short of being fear. If he is afraid of the giant, there is an end of him; but also if he is not astonished at the giant, there is an end of the fairy-tale. The whole point depends upon his being at once humble enough to wonder, and haughty enough to defy. So our attitude to the giant of the world must not merely be increasing delicacy or increasing contempt: it must be one particular proportion of the two--which is exactly right. We must have in us enough reverence for all things outside us to make us tread fearfully on the grass. We must also have enough disdain for all thing outside us, to make us, on due occasion, spit at the stars. Yet these two things (if we are to be good or happy) must be combined, not in any combination, but in one particular combination. The perfect happiness of men on the earth (if it ever comes) will not be a flat and solid thing, like the satisfaction of animals. It will be an exact and perilous balance; like that of a desperate romance. Man must have just enough faith in himself to have adventures, and just enough doubt of himself to enjoy them."

Chesterton, G.K. Orthodoxy. Radford, VA: Wilder Publications, 2007. 75.

Reform = Palette + Model + Vision

"This is not a world, but rather the materials for a world. God has given us not so much the colors of a picture as the colors of a palette. But He has also given us a subject, a model, a fixed vision. We must be clear about what we want to paint. This adds a further principle to our previous list of principles. We have said we must be fond of this world, even in order to change it. We know add that we must be fond of another world (real or imaginary) in order to have something to change it to.

We need not debate about the words evolution or progress: personally I prefer to call it reform. For reform implies form. It implies that we are trying to shape the world in a particular image; to make it something that we see already in our minds. Evolution is a metaphor from mere automatic unrolling. Progress is a metaphor from merely walking along a road--very likely the wrong road. But reform is a metaphor for reasonable and determined men: it means that we see a certain thing out of shape and we mean to put it into shape. And we know what shape."

Chesterton, G.K. Orthodoxy. Radford, VA: Wilder Publications, 2007. p. 70

Courage

"Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die. "He that will lose his life, the same shall save it," is not a piece of mysticism for saints and heroes. It is a piece of everyday advice for sailors or mountaineers. It might be printed on an Alpine guide or a drill book. This paradox is the whole principle of courage; even of quite earthly or quite brutal courage. A man cut off by the sea may save his life if he will risk it on the precipice. He can only get away from death by continually stepping within an inch of it. A soldier surrounded by enemies, if he is to cut his way out, needs to combine a strong desire for living with a strange carelessness about dying. He must not merely cling to life, for then he will be a coward, and will not escape. He must seek his life in a spirit of furious indifference to it; he must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine. No philosopher, I fancy, has ever expressed this romantic riddle with adequate lucidity, and I certainly have not done so. But Christianity has done more: it has marked the limits of it in the awful graves of the suicide and the hero, showing the distance between him who dies for the sake of living and him who dies for the sake of dying. And it has held up ever since above the European lances the banner of the mystery of chivalry: the Christian courage, which is a disdain of death; not the [Eastern] courage, which is a disdain of life."

Chesterton, G.K. Orthodoxy. Radford, VA: Wilder Publications, 2007. 62.