poster-boy keith

In case you're interested, the Dominican University College has included my photo a few times on their new website at www.collegedominicain.ca. To see the pics, go to admissions or cost of studies or student association (there's a couple of other places too) and wait for a second for the image on the right to change. You should then see my happy mug peering out of the screen at you. It's pretty glamorous, I know, but I'll try not to let it go to my head :)

Average

6 out of 10 was the average of the German quiz I received back today. 60%. Apparently that's a fairly average mark for a language class; according to my professor. I've never thought of myself as average. Generally I'm a bit over par when it comes to schoolwork, but today it was there, staring me in the face. Keith Dow is average.  

Incidentally, three out of the four marks I lost were mis-translations of the word "Teil" or "part." Where the sentences contained "Teile," which is plural, I mistook for "Teil," one singular part. The truth is, I don't like thinking of myself as one part among many. I recognize that I am a part; there is no way to avoid this in being distinct in the world. I merely fail to make the necessary connection that there are numerous other parts; that I am not as distinct or unique as I sometimes would like to think I am.  

One of the things that I most enjoy doing, and that which I've occasionally received compliments about, is writing. I enjoy language and expressing my thoughts; apparently, though, my mind doesn't work in such a way so as to easily grasp languages. Greek was my first indication of this, as my friends quickly shot ahead of me in marks when second semester came around. Now I'm finding German a challenge. It's discouraging to realize that perhaps even those gifts we think we have are not as profound as we once thought.  

As I stepped on the dingy bus, filled with people I'd never know and whose lives would never touch mine more than a passing glance, I saw as though for the first time the shadow of insignificance that haunts each of us.  

The Possibility of Possibilities 

 I've never been one to stop dreaming. We live in a passionless age, one where the idea of an infinite universe dwarfs any step our finite feet might take, but each of us hang onto some thread of identity that somehow makes each further step possible and every action significant; if only for ourselves. Indeed, in an empirical sense the most we will ever be able to be is dying dirt. Our bodies break down a little more each day as entropy takes its toll, and the accumulation of worldly wealth we gather is no more than a grain of sand on a freckle on the backside of the world. Even the effort we invest with our whole life in building something of significance will soon be forgotten. The people we affect will die, and the memory of our interaction on this earth - for good or for evil - will quickly be forgotten. Even the greatest men in history are now no more than an empty shell of who they were; a name, an image, or an accomplishment. The monuments we establish will do no more than bear our hollow name until they are torn down to be replaced by another monument, of someone whose name will be forgotten just as quickly as ours. Emily Dickinson wrote the poem "I dwell in possibility:"

I dwell in Possibility A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior - —for Doors— Of Chambers as the Cedars— Impregnable of Eye And for an Everlasting Roof The Gambrels of the Sky— Of Visitors - —the fairest— For Occupation - —This— The spreading wide of narrow Hands To gather Paradise—

I don't know the first thing about the Emily Dickinson, except that apparently she was a bit kooky. I don't like how many hyphens she uses. If B. F. Skinner were here, he'd definitely skin her. Ha. He would say that there's no use talking about possibility because there really is no such thing as an autonomous man. Being products of our environments, possibility is nothing but the future effects of environmental necessity. Even the chemicals in our brain that we perceive to be the idea of possibility are a direct result of our environment and their explanation could be found in a purposeless event that happened three years ago. 

If you're not into the atheistic types, perhaps you'd prefer Spinoza. He'd say that it's emotionally enslaving to talk about ourselves as being free as modes of God in a world that must necessarily be entirely determined by God, so anything we do is completely out of God's necessity. He and Calvin could have some interesting discussions. Oh, and Spinoza would add that the God we think is God really isn't because we essentially make Him in our own image, projecting our desire for the world to run according to our wishes onto Him and so say that He orchestrates everything for our benefit. 

I'm sure Freud would jump in here (although he and Spinoza would probably kill each other) and add that our perception of God stems from prehistoric man and tribal rituals and our idea of God as Father finds its roots in repressed sexual urges and as a religious community we make up invisible metaphysical concepts in order to keep one another in line and to abate the guilt that comes from our carnal instincts and subconscious passions. 

The experiences we have here on earth and the knowledge of how the world operates truly do seem to back up our insignificance. From this standpoint, any empirical way you look at it, we don't really accomplish much being down here. In fact, if the end or telos of each one of us is death, then wouldn't we be best fulfilling our purpose if we just died?  

Beyond Possibility  

Strangely enough, there are still a lot of people living out there. I saw a bunch of them on that bus. Many of them had their heads down and didn't look too happy. Not many were smiling. They were all pretty average. A lot of them were ugly. I don't think many of them were good at sports. A lot looked like they'd be pretty dumb, too. Even the ugliest, dumbest brutes of them all, though, were still alive. Apparently there's something in the human spirit that hangs on regardless of empirical data. Each silly person still hung onto the dream of their identity; the dream that they were making a bit of a difference in the world somehow, to someone. Some were obviously closer to realizing that their lives wouldn't make much of a difference than others, but even they still hung on. 

One of my favourite bands is Dogwood. You've probably never heard of them, and you might not ever hear of them again unless it's from me. Their first albums were probably the worst music ever made, and some people find his voice horrible. I think his voice is tremendous in a rough and non-singing sort of way. Here's a song of theirs called 1983:
 

When we were kids, our dreams were invincible,
When we were young, our whole lives ahead of us,
And it was well understood we'd all become astronauts,
And firemen,

Let's not pretend, we all become famous,
Let's not pretend, there's more to this then we hoped for,
For we knew the rules when we were still children,
You blow it,
You fail it,
Disappointment.

It's well on it's way, well understood,
And you have a place, to be (when we were young),
Time on our hands,
Still out of our hands, just like rain (it rained so hard),
Time ran away, and left us afraid,

Your parents are proud,
You've got everything,
No passion at hand,
You'll be Ivy League,
It's more probable,
We all become salesmen,
You know it,
You fear it,
Mediocrity.

It's well on it's way, well understood,
And this is your life,
Don't apoligize for what you are,
Because you're a star.

I hope you find contentment,
I pray you find an answer,
'cause life is better than your occupation,
Revelation.

When we (when we were young) were,
Time on our hands,
Still out of our hands,
Just like rain (it rained so hard)
Time ran away, and left us afraid.

Sometimes I sense the fear they sing about. The fear of mediocrity and disappointment. At these times I cannot dwell in possibility. I can long to dwell in possibility, but I can't dwell there. As an eternal refuge it's far too destructable. If possibility were my only guide, I would have fallen off the cliff a long time ago. Gravity, as the nature of everything to fall down and to fall in upon itself, would have cast me off the heights before I had even looked for a place to dwell. Empirically I know my possibility is limited. There are a few people in my life who see possibility in me, and their support is the foundation of almost all possibilities that have been realized in my life. Even during those times when I realize how much possibility will fail to come to fruition in my life they help me to aim for the potential that is there.

Where I Dwell 

Through the most empirical times, though, when not even their cheers make it onto the court of reality and any confidence I had in personal significance was long ago abandoned, there are still Arms that hold me. The psalmist writes,

"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty" -Psalm 91:1

This is where I ultimately dwell; not in possibility but in the secret place of Yahweh, the Great I Am. He is the First and the Last, and He knows all that I have been, all that I am, and all that I ever will be. In Him I am not merely one of many indistinguishable Teile, for I am a Teil of His family and He has led me, Keith Dow, to His secret place and has hidden me under His mighty shadow. I know that in Him who has no need to simplify everything that I am finds its roots and grows. While I am here on earth He enables me to dwell both in His secret place and in possibility. To the human mind these are unreconcilable, for the one who abides under the shadow of the Almighty is he who has abandoned Self; who has given up all hope of ever achieving anything on his own, who has shunned the illusion of possibility. With man this is impossible, but with God nothing is impossible. The last shall be first and His strength is made perfect in my weakness. Through Him who is able to do more than we can ask or imagine, I find the weakness to let Him work His strength through me. Does the shadow of insignificance still haunt my every step?  Looking into the light of Christ's victory, I pray that my life will fade away, so that His life might shine through me all the more clearly. 

The Ultimate Test

I had a German test on Friday. It's only another couple of days until I find out how terribly I actually did on it. The problem is, teachers never mark tests according to our humanity. They don't say "Keith, there were a few things that need to be worked on but I'm sure you'll have them down by next time." No, they mark us like machines. You are and always will be 7.5 out of 10. This particular quiz mark will never change. There is no next time for this one. You cannot improve. 

It's the same idea as a SIN number; the system gives you one number, and that number is you to them. The name "Keith" is flexible enough to encompass my varying fluctuations and to allow for improvement or decline on my part yet particular and specific enough that when people hear my name they are able to point me out in a crowd. A number, on the other hand, is absolute. In a closed all-encompassing system, a number represents a specific point which will never be different than it is. 

That's one of the reasons I liked home schooling. I never had tests. Upon entering high-school, though, my marks were the best they've ever been. My mom and dad were able to gauge where I was at and what I needed to work on. They didn't need to simplify my progress to a easily-comprehensible integer in order to help my academic achievement. 

God doesn't need to simplify us to be able to fit us into His system, either. Throughout our life we don't receive various report cards from heaven, defining absolutely how much less than perfect we actually are. True importance has never been found in the law; God has always been more concerned with mercy than sacrifices. 

In the same way, our position at a specific point is never written in stone for eternity. In the ministry of redemption, God's Spirit is always at work in our lives to lead us to the Rock that is higher than ourselves. Given, there will come a time when we will stand before our Lord and be called to give an account for everything done in the flesh, but as Christians we are assured that what stands between us and perfection will be burned away as wood, hay, or straw. We will be left with that which is beautiful and that which lasts. 
 
God in a Box 

Strangely, although we know that God deals with us with incomprehensible love and grace, we often try to approach Him systematically in order to put Him within our reach. The Israelites tried to fully understand who God is by making images out of Him. The golden calf incident is one of many such attempts. No wonder the second commandment forbids making an idol in the form of anything, because there is nothing that can make God entirely comprehensible to our senses or intellect. 
  In modernity, we try to reduce God to a series of propositions that we call doctrine in order to try and His entirety in a closed system of reason. Kant made a distinction between what we can know concerning the physical, empirical world and what we believe concerning the metaphysical realm. This is a distinction that is quickly pushed aside by Christians, because it casts doubt on our ability to know anything empirically about God. However, this distinction must be seriously considered by Christian theologians because it has led to the division of Christian thought. On one side are those who try to reduce God to scientific certainty through empirical. On the other side are those who try to exclude God from the realm of reason so that we can comprehend Him by not having to think rationally about Him. With God as a far-removed metaphysical concept, there is no need to let His empirical truth transform our lives. This is closely related to the Absentee-Gardener syndrome, where we push God further and further back into metaphysics until He is no longer a significant part of our physical existence. 
 
Travesties of Presentation 

The problems with the way we present God to ourselves and others don't merely reside within the realm of thought and reason. They concern the relation of reason, body/emotion, and spirit. One blatant example of such a tragedy is when one attempts to override a person’s intellectual blocks to God by an emotional experience. This is why hyped-up religious events yield little lasting fruit. Eventually everyone will calm down enough to hear the intellectual objections they had before. Another travesty is in trying to overcome perceived experiential problems that people have with God by reason. If someone feels that God allowed someone close to them to die for no good reason, preaching abstract doctrines isn’t going to incline their mind towards the truth. Just as Jesus both came in flesh and was a fulfillment of the law and the prophets, so people need to see flesh-and-blood examples of a Christ-filled life as well as hear the life-giving words of the gospel message.  

Underlying each of these travesties, though, is the assumption that by the communication of our own emotion or intellect we may single-handedly introduce a person to Christ. It is only the Spirit of God that can bring someone to the place where they meet Christ. When it comes to spiritual matters, no earthly convincing will cause someone to cross over from death to life. At that time of a person’s journey, the intellect can take no further step. The spiritual is beyond the realm of the intellectual. 

The intellect can choose to believe that either Christ was fully God or Christ was fully man, but it cannot rationally choose to believe that Christ is both God and man apart from brain-death, insincerity, misunderstanding, or truly taking on the mind of Christ which transcends human logic and must be preceded by spiritual renewal. It is no wonder that only those spirits who acknowledge that Jesus has come in the flesh are from God. 

Conversely, while emotion can convince a person to say that they believe in Christ, it cannot actually take the step to belief. Just as the intellect is caught between human logic and divine logic, in being unable to empirically perceive God the sensual soul is caught between the tragedies observed every day and the beauty of God’s creation. Based only on constantly changing empiricism the soul could never absolutely decide that God is a God of love and not hate.  

The Un-markable Test 

Ultimately, the mystery of Christ’s love can only be entered into by taking the nail-pierced hand of Christ Himself as he dies on the cross. It is only by dying in this way in faith that one may come to knowing His resurrection; that one may cross over from death to life and come to know true life in Christ. It is only through meeting God the Absolute in the frailty of the finite through the meekness of his weakness on the cross of Christ that we are able, through God's grace, to become heirs of the eternal and to pass the ultimate test: do you know My Son? Knowing Christ, even then, is not a quantitative fact of the intellect or a qualitative intuition of the heart, but is an experience that transcends all known experience through the mystery of His Spirit.

Selling your Soul on Ebay 101

As some of you know, it wasn't long ago that that my car was broken into and the culprit ran off with my CD/MP3 CD player. At the time I was quite happy about how I handled it. My roommate's car had been broken into that night as well so I had a foreboding feeling that mine had too. So, when I found that it had, indeed, been broken into and my CD player was gone, I wasn't completely unprepared. In fact, I was quite relaxed about the whole thing. 

At first I think it was out of a genuine unattachment and the feeling that the situation was out of my control. It wasn't long, though, until I transformed this loss into an opportunity to upgrade to an all-out MP3 player. Now I realize that, instead of turning to God in this situation that was out of my control, I turned it into an opportunity to assert my dominance over a world - and ultimately a God - that (Who) can't be controlled.  

My attitude reminds me of the United States in their insistence on rebuilding the World Trade Center towers - this time with the "Freedom tower," measuring 1,776 feet. When the original Twin Towers were built they measured approximately 1360 feet each. At that time they were the tallest buildings on earth. Wikipedia reports that at a press conference revealing these landmarks, the architect Minoru Yamasaki was asked: "Why two 110-story buildings? Why not one 220-story building?" His response was: "I didn't want to lose the human scale." Apparently this time they're looking beyond the 'human scale.'  

In my own desire to control beyond a human scale, I ended up ordering an iPod Mini on eBay. Thankfully it wasn't 1.5-2 billion dollars, but to this poor widow it was certainly comparable. As soon as the screen read "you are the highest bidder," it hit me that here I was, the rich young ruler. 

We all know that one can not serve two masters, God and mammon. Yet I imagine that you, like I, have found a way to excuse yourself from the demands of Christ on your finances, on my life. You are not the subject of this investigation, however, for I am the first to blame and at this moment feel like the worst of sinners. The terrible thing is, I feel that I'm leaving disheartened with the young man, bound and trapped by my great wealth. You see, far too often I'm a creature dominated by my passions. I see the new zip-up hoodie at the Gap and I begin to lust after it. We may describe it as 'wanting,' but is there really much of a difference when it comes to an eternal perspective on the treasures of earth? The Best Buy catalogue shows up in our house and it's not much different than a dirty magazine. "Man, look at the size of that screen!" It sounds crude and vulgar, but I certainly don't think it's much of a stretch. 

You see, passions master us. It doesn't matter what the passion is; if it's not firmly rooted in God then it masters us. The etymology of "passion" comes from the same root as "passive" in Latin, to be affected by, to undergo, to be acted upon. When we talk about something we're passionate about we might say "it moved me." What is it that is acting upon us, that is mastering us, when we gaze longingly in shop windows or at the latest ad? It certainly isn't our Heavenly Father. So I find myself in the same position as the rich young man. Selling all that I have and giving the money to the poor to gain treasure in heaven isn't something I'm prepared to do right now. Or right now. Or right now. 

I'm counting on God's imimpossibility to bring me to eternal life, as I sit here feeling as out of place in my adherence to Christ as a camel in the eye of a needle. I know we don't have long here. We're just passing through. I pray, though, that Christ's kenosis (emptying himself) will begin to wear off on me so that I might arrive in heaven and not feel the flames nipping my heels. I pray, Lord, that in you and your power I will act as you have called me to. Right now. Right now. Right now...