The Origins of Joannica (or, I’m an Idiot)

My strong, kind, beautiful, thoughtful, gracious wife of two plus years turned thirty today. But in the Boswell family, we don’t celebrate just one day in honor of Joann’s birth and life—we celebrate eight. It’s a tradition that spans beyond the first year we were dating, 2009. It goes all the way back to college, to the beginning of our sophomore year at George Fox, 2002.

But before we go back, two things must be pointed out. One, “Joannica” requires (by my own ordinance) that I give Joann a gift for both her actual birthday as well as the subsequent seven days. A “gift” can mean anything thoughtful, intentional, sacrificial—tangible or intangible. The point is, Joann should be made to feel special.

Two, we are happily married with a beautiful daughter. Our story has a happy ending. Whatever foolish things I did in the past, you should at least keep in mind that, hey, it worked out okay. Thanks Joann, for letting it “work out” okay.

So the story of origins. Joann and I were good friends freshman year. We lived near each other and spent a decent amount of time together. We even went to spring formal together, which I honestly don’t remember much about. I’m sure we had fun.

We didn’t really stay in touch that summer, as I was off working at Mission Springs, a youth camp in the Santa Cruz area (Joann was working at a lumber mill in Roseburg). I returned to school my sophomore year working as a Resident Assistant, my mind and time occupied with new faces and activities and friends.

At some point when my new freshman residents were moving in, Joann stopped by my dorm to say hi, after months of not seeing each other. She had apparently had me on her mind all summer. My response the moment I saw her? “Oh, Joann, hi! It's so good to see you! I forgot all about you!”

Oops.

So that was late August. Now fast forward a month. At some point during the month of September, I had gone to Hollywood video and set up an account. On that account I was able to add five friends; on the birthday of each of these friends, I could get a free video rental. I thought of the five birthdays I could remember; one that came to mind was my old buddy Joann’s—September 30^th. So I added her.

A couple weeks later, I went to Hollywood video with some of my friends/residents. I realized when I went to pay—it’s Joann’s birthday! I can get a free rental! So I did…I got a movie for free. What I did not do was call Joann or acknowledge to her in any way that I was aware it was her birthday.

The next day, one of my residents (Troy maybe?) saw Joann and wished her a happy birthday. She didn't know him and asked how he knew it was her birthday. He explained that I had rented a movie (Moulin Rouge?) that several of us had watched...thanks to her. She of course was very aware that I did not contact her at all on her birthday. But I got a free movie because it was her birthday.

Oops.

The next day, Joann confronted me, lightheartedly and sweetly but with of course a hint of disappointment. Actually, I think she said something like "you rented a movie on my birthday and didn't invite me?!" I shamefully apologized and “repented," making it up to her by initiating “Joannica,” an extended birthday celebration in which she would get eight days of thoughtful acknowledgment, with some sort of “gift” given each day.

So I'd forgotten that she existed, but remembered her birthday. She was baffled, I think. Rightly so.

And the moral of the story is…don’t be stupid.

And the other point of this retelling? To say thank you Joann…you are so precious to me, and I’ve been a buffoon at various times along the way. Thanks for not giving up on me, despite my many faults, both past and present. Thank you for your grace. I love you.

What Does Your Library Say About You?

I think the books on your shelf say something substantial about you. The authors I've read were not chosen at random. Typically I latch onto something in an author; something about their message, their style, the challenge they pose, or the imaginative way they pose it speaks to me and hooks me.

As a lot of what I read is non-fiction, I find myself becoming a student of these people I've never met, opening myself to their ideas. And the various works of different authors tend to have some similarities, I find. Maybe a common way of seeing the world or a common agenda in their writing.

I think if you looked at my shelves, you could make some at least tentative conclusions about me. Not just about my present interests, but about my journey. Some of my books I read a long time ago and don’t feel they are really reflective of my thought and life now. Other books I'd very closely identify with as being good representations of where I'm at today.

I was curious about this, so I counted. Listed below are the fifteen authors most represented on my shelves, and the number of books I own by each. And, to clarify if it’s not clear: this is NOT a ranking of my favorite authors, but of who is on my shelf. In my case at least, there's a difference. 

• CS Lewis (18)
• Bill Watterson (12)
• Henri Nouwen (9)
• JRR Tolkien (8)
• Lesslie Newbigin (7)
• Frederick Buechner (7)
• Stanley Hauerwas (7)
• Thomas Merton (7)
• Brian McLaren (7)
• John Eldridge (5)
• Donald Miller (5)
• Miroslav Volf (5)
• Dietrich Bonhoeffer (4)
• NT Wright (4)
• Jurgen Moltmann (3)

Now, I could definitely draw some conclusions about the presence and number of some of these books, but I’ll leave it up to your imaginative speculation as to 1) why each of these authors are so well-represented in my library, 2) what seasons of life I was in that led me to their material, 3) what particular topics/ideas/goals are characteristic of each 4) who I’d say today is most like a mentor to me or who I’d most closely identify with, and 5) who I’d most distance myself from now.

But more importantly, how about you? Look at the books you own…is there one author more represented on your shelves than others? Would you call this author (or authors) a “mentor” to you because of how his or her writing has shaped you?

And, how do you choose the authors you read? Do they challenge you to think differently and creatively or simply reaffirm you in what you already think? Are you embarrassed by your possession of certain authors/books? Do you feel deficient in some areas (e.g., too much non-fiction, too many male authors, too much about one particular topic and not enough about others)?

One thing I've learned today: I'm long overdue to dive into some of my 19th century Russian fiction.

Clara and I Talk About My Studies (In Pictures)

Sometimes when I've been studying all day, I find it helpful to bounce some ideas off of Clara, just to help me process some different ideas floating around in my head. She's a good listener, as her faces show...


Me: Clara, can I talk to you for a while? I want to talk to you about eudaimonia.
Clara:

Me: Hey, come on, are you looking at Mama to "rescue" you from me?
Clara:

Me: Man, Clara, I am SO done with Augustine for a while. And the thing is, I'm not done.
Clara:

Me: Did you know that menstruating women used to be excluded from church gatherings?
Clara:

Me: So someone suggested that the gathering of loaves and fishes is allegorical of what God does with the scattered particles of our long-dead bodies at the final resurrection.
Clara:

Me: Speaking of fish, maybe Jonah reveals to us our aversion to diversity and our discomfort with the fact that God loves those "others."
Clara:

Me: I cheated on my margins yesterday. I made them 0.8 inches instead of 1.0.
Clara:

Me: Hey, look Clara, my finger.
Clara:

Me: And another thing, what's the deal with St Jerome? Am I right?
Clara:

Me: Clara, I'm getting the impression you're kind of done with this conversation. Are you pretending to be sleeping? Come on, I can see that your eyes are open.
Clara:

Clara is the best conversation partner.

The Drive to School

I’m walking to my car. The air is so fresh out here.

I’m pulling out of my parking space…glad I didn’t have to park in my garage, as it’s kind of small. But if I moved stuff around and condensed a bit, there might be more space.

I’m going over the four speed bumps. I really hate speed bumps. Maybe I should check mail. The mail probably hasn’t come yet. I don’t know when the mail comes. I should figure out when the mail comes so I don't keep wondering every day.

There’s the bus stop. I took the bus to school once. I should do it again. It is cheaper to just drive.

I’m driving down the hill to the highway. The sun is blinding. Oh wow, I need to wash this car…I can’t see out the window very well. I hope everyone is doing what they’re supposed to be doing. An erratic move, like a dog running out into the road, right at this moment, might end poorly.

Ugh. Skunk again. My landlord wasn't kidding when she called this place “skunk hill.” The one downside about living here. Though I have seen a few skunks around here; they’re actually quite beautiful.

That person ran the stop sign. I don’t know if he realized there was a stop sign there, or if he just doesn’t care. I wonder—if it was guaranteed there would be no punishment, no legal/financial consequences—if I would run stop signs more often.

Death Cab still, eh? “Monday Morning.” I suspected maybe this song was written by Ben about Zooey, and I looked it up and was right. So sad they broke up. I wonder why? Who left who? Wow, I’m so glad people aren't sitting around in their cars speculating about my personal life.

Getting on the freeway. This traffic isn’t so bad. People are doing what they’re supposed to do, working as one, an efficient network, employing the "zipper principle" and very aware of their surroundings. Good work today, drivers. Oh s*** there’s the exit to I-80. Sorry! Sorry, driver, I know, I’m stupid, sorry! Thank you, sorry!

Going over the toll bridge…glad I don’t have to pay the toll driving in to school but only driving home. $5.00 every time. There’s tolls everywhere down here. And so many different toll takers! I’m not totally sure I’ve even seen the same person twice, yet, in all my trips. Lots of jobs I guess.

There’s Pinole…maybe I’ll stop there at Trader Joes on the way home. Two-buck-chuck is really $2.00 there, not $2.50 like in the NW! Nice work, California. I may have to stop there anyway to buy something to get some cash back for the toll bridge. It’s silly they don’t take cards. They probably want you to get a Fastrak pass, to help the flow of cars. Smart. Obnoxious, but smart.

There’s Richmond. People told me not to live there because it was dangerous. That’s probably unfair as a generalization, but I’m sure there are some dangerous parts that I…ahh…oh great. Here's the traffic...I knew the quick commute wouldn't last forever. This is where it always gets bad. Ugh. Traffic is stupid. I don’t understand traffic. If everybody did their part and did it well and worked together, we’d have highway harmony. Wouldn't we? Oh boy…Plato’s notions of justice are creeping into my everyday life.

Now listening to a podcast. Rachel just said “vagina” a few times. Apparently she had some problems with Christian publishers or bookstores or something  who wouldn’t publish/carry her book—a book about the Bible—because she used the word vagina in it. But they don’t mind the use of “penis” or “testicles.” Wow. That says something about something. Oh wait, I’m still a little sheepish about saying the v-word. Huh. Maybe I've got a ways to come, too. And, wow, these guys interviewing her, though I’m sure they’re very intelligent, are coming across a bit like horny little schoolboys. I feel awkward for her, though she’s bantering well enough.

Oh, there’s that one hill. I’m almost to my exit. Nice, my coffee is still hot…this is a good travel mug. It keeps my coffee hot for a long time. Though my coffee has lost its freshness. Nothing like that first sip in my office at home. Back then I enjoyed the coffee for its beauty, it’s magnificent embodiment of “coffee-ness.” Ok, need to stop doing that. Anyway, now the coffee is comforting me, feeding my addiction, more than delighting me. Glad it’s hot. Oh, come on! Really? On my hand? I didn’t tighten the lid well enough.

Ah, there it is, the bay. So beautiful. I can see the Bay Bridge, San Fran, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the water below. So gorgeous. For all its faults—tolls and traffic and high costs come to mind—this is a beautiful area. Wow. The water’s so blue today because there’s no fog. Wow. Sublime.

Shoot, here comes my exit, gotta get over. And, merge. And…merge. And…ok, fine go ahead, I’ll go after you, and…merge. One more!? I always forget how big the highway gets here…and…wait for it…merge. Man, I’m getting this California driving thing down. I think people expect you to be bold, and don’t get as upset with you when you merge ahead of them, because that’s just how it works. I’m apologizing less and  merging more courageously these days. Hmm. Maybe I take back what I said about drivers not getting upset, because I blocked a guy who sas cruising yesterday and he got upset. Hopefully I slowed him down and prevented him from an accident. Yeah, I probably saved his life by cutting him off. I'm a hero.

Gilman St exit. There are more stop signs if I go this way than if I took my smart phone’s suggested route, University St exit. But less traffic, I assume. Oh, this is annoying though…the road is two lanes each way, but the left lane has all of these left turns, meaning people stop and hold up traffic waiting to turn. Poor people though…that guy’s probably been waiting to turn for a while.

Jimmy Bean’s coffee. I should go there some time. Toot Sweets…that sounds good too. So many interesting places to check out in this city. Bagels! Actually that doesn’t sound all that enticing, I don’t know why I just got so excited about bagels.

Oh wow…Fall is here…I love this stretch of trees. Every time I’ve driven in to school over the last few weeks, these trees have been slightly more diverse in their coloring, with more reds and oranges and yellows overtaking the green. So beautiful! Such a fun way, totally removed from my calendar or schedule, to watch the time pass.

Can’t believe it’s already late September. Can’t believe Clara’s as big as she is, though I know some wouldn’t call her big. What a lesson in savoring. I can feel myself already missing earlier stages of her life, though I’m glad she’s growing. People are probably right when they say children grow up fast. No, they're not right. Children grow up at the speed they grow up; it's not fast or slow. What a silly thing to say.

Pedestrian crossing a crosswalk. That last driver didn’t stop for him…the pedestrian is visibly annoyed, surely judging the driver for his or her lack of road etiquette. You are holding us up, pedestrian. Though you do have the right-away, and appear to be walking to the transit center. I applaud your ecological concern.

Just as expected, there are a few open spots…it’s two hour parking, so I have to come back and move my car during a class break, but it’s free at least. I’ve seen the parking police chalk my tires, so I know they’ll catch me and ticket me if I don’t move my car. It seems silly…just moving it to another spot a block away. Whatever.

Locked. I think it’s locked, I didn’t hear the reassuring beep that lets my know my car is locked. Ah, there’s the beep. Now I'm sure it’s locked. Wait, are all my valuables hidden? Yes. Well, my banana chips aren't. If someone's hungry and sees my banana chips sitting there they might break into my car. Fine...I don't really like them that much. But I do like my windows being intact. Perhaps I should hide the banana chips.

Now up the hill to class! Nice drive this morning.

God is Not a Tuna Melt

God is a not a tuna melt. God is good. Which of these statements is truer?

In fancy-pants terms, one statement reflects an approach called "apophatic theology" and the other "kataphatic theology." In other words, speaking about God by negative or positive affirmation: what God is not and what God is. Many Christian theologians seem to have had their “pet topics” or some kind of major theme in their work for which they are remembered. Pseudo-Dionysius is one such early theologian (5th-6th century); he explored this dialectic between negative and positive speech in talking about God.

While Pseudo-Dionysius saw the value in talking about God positively—actually saying something substantial about God—he also seemed to realize the inadequacy of words to really capture the divine. Thus, to say God is love, for example, is to describe God in human terms with our limited conceptions of what love really is. For P-D, God is beyond description and the more we really discover God the more speechless we become. To say God is "goodness" diminishes who God is because our notions of goodness are so finite, so small.

P-D seemed more at home talking about what God isn’t. For example, God is not a tuna melt. It’s hard to disagree with that, right? Or, God is not hate. Most of us would agree with that, at least in theory. Though if you think actions are the truest indicator of what people actually believe and then consider the amount of hate—or if “hate” is too harsh a word then harm, exclusion, condemnation, or disrespect—that some religious people seem to possess...perhaps such a person wouldn’t really affirm that God is not hate.

Somewhere I heard apophatic theology compared to sculpting. You might consider that, in looking at a stone block, there is something profoundly beautiful underneath it all, inside. But to see the thing of beauty, you must first carve away everything that is not the thing of beauty.

I mention this concept not just as to highlight its novelty, as if this is just a “fun” but ultimately invaluable exercise in playing with words. I think the striking message from P-D is humility. Specifically, humility in our expressions of belief, our assertions about God and God’s will. I do believe God wants to be known, and that trying to describe God is a good thing. Saying God is not a tuna melt doesn’t tell us much (though I won’t confirm or deny sightings of Jesus in grilled cheese sandwiches).

But there’s something to be said about describing God with reverence, knowing our words are inadequate and that who God is may not be graspable and where God can and can't be found is not always obvious. I'm not suggesting we don't try to talk about God; just that we talk about God with a keen awareness of our smallness.

And in the same way, there’s something to be said about how we describe what we think God is doing or what God wants. Maybe you have encountered someone who has claimed God’s will on a particular matter, and maybe you’ve been suspicious. Well, maybe you shouldn’t be suspicious, because maybe they know what they’ve experienced and you don’t.

Or maybe you should be suspicious, because sometimes I suspect people are anxious about and uncomfortable with not knowing, with not being in control of their lives or a situation, and so decide to validate their experience by assuming a certain flutter of emotion is God’s voice or that a certain “sign” signifies the direction of God.

I believe a lot of people who claim to know God's will are on to something and should act with a certain confidence on such intuitions; I also believe a lot of people who claim to know God's will are deceiving themselves (or others). "God's will" can too easily be used as a weapon rather than a source of peace.

Talking positively about and seeking to describe God helps us communicate with each other, helps us explore the divine nature, helps us figure out what we are to do and how we are to be. That’s all important. But there’s a place for doing it all with a deep humility…maybe even a readiness to be surprised.

So God is not a tuna melt. Good. I think I've just inched closer to a fuller understanding of the divine.

Some Monday Morning Origen

Origen, one of the early church fathers, is a fascinating figure to me. As is that of which he is a reminder—the notion of orthodoxy, of mainstream faith, a faith that has throughout history sought pretty clear boundaries as to what is normative, what is acceptable belief and practice.

Origen was a prolific writer and important theologian in the early days of our Christian existence. In recently reading On First Principles, I can understand the praise for him and the novelty of what he was doing. He wrote before some of the major church councils that sought to define the boundaries of orthodox belief. And...these councils did not look favorably upon him.

Why? Generally speaking, because humans are finite. The plethora of denominations (and religions) is a testament to this. No matter how much we may believe in God’s self-revelation to us, even if we can point to an event, as Christians do—God incarnate in the man Jesus—we are still guessing in many ways at how to think about these revelations, what to do with them, how to articulate their reality with the right language that will most capture the essence of the truth. We err. We are fallible. We try to express realities we don't fully understand. That’s human life.

But specifically, why didn’t the councils like him? After all, he appears to have had a very high view of Scripture, recognizing God (more than humans) as the author of the Bible. He produced a lot of commentaries and sermons on the Bible, obviously doing a lot of good for the Church. He, like John the Gospel writer, connected Jesus with the Logos, the divine wisdom of God.

It seems the two big strikes against him that got him pooh-poohed by the Church were a belief in the pre-existence of souls and in universal reconciliation. As I understand it, Origen believed that there was a divine host of beings, some of which were naughty in some way. The ones who were really naughty God made into demons, the ones who were only a little naughty God made into angels, and the middle-of-the-road souls—humans. So…that’s obviously not mainstream.

As for universal reconciliation—the notion that God’s salvation is effectual for all people, including even the devil according to Origen—that’s a fascinating topic for another day. Suffice it to say, such a belief is not mainstream and never really has been, though theologians throughout Christian history on the fringes have explored it.

But of most interest to me today is the way Origen dealt with Christ’s humanity and divinity. This has always been a challenge for Christians. Emphasizing Jesus’ humanity over his divinity can feel belittling to Jesus' greatness and glory and perhaps feel like a threat to the efficacy of his salvific mission.

But emphasizing Jesus’ divinity can make him feel a bit inaccessible, as if his commands to follow him were absurd in their unrepeatability (in which case many seem to assume Jesus was trying to humble us so we’d see our need for him). Many people just say "both" and call it good...they just declare "mystery." Mystery...bleh. (Wink.)

Here’s a nugget from Origen:

“Christ so chose to love righteousness as to cling to it unchangeably and inseparably in accordance with the immensity of its love; the result being that by firmness of purpose, immensity of affection, and an inextinguishable warmth of love all susceptibility to change or alteration was destroyed, and what formerly depended upon the will was by the influence of long custom changed into nature. Thus we must believe that there did exist in Christ a human and rational soul, and yet not suppose that it had any susceptibility to or possibility of sin.” (from On First Principles, Book 2)

I’m not totally sure I exactly understand Origen’s Christology (did Jesus learn how to not sin while being human?). Regardless, Origen’s understanding of the process of becoming incapable of sin—reminiscent of Plato’s (among others) understanding of virtue and the “altering” of will through training and practice—is so beautifully expressed here.

Clinging to righteousness. Firmness of purpose. Immensity of affection. Inextinguishable warmth of love. The message I’ve repeatedly received in my Christian faith has been, to oversimplify, don’t bother trying to be good because you’ll fail, instead, think about how good God is and that God still accepts you. This basic assumption has, while honoring the greatness of God in comparison to the baseness of humans, I think hindered the pursuit of living like Christ (or made it an afterthought).

And I’m not even thinking about salvation or earning God’s love; I’m thinking about freedom. Imagine not feeling anxious, not feeling cowardly, not feeling petty, not feeling reactive, not feeling vengeful, not feeling spiteful, not feeling jealous, not feeling insecure. And imagine not acting in the ways you’ve probably acted because of all these underlying instincts and feelings to which you may feel bound, imprisoned. Doesn’t a life like that, free of all these hindrances and bondages, sound…liberating?

It does to me, and this desire for that kind of freedom, for myself and others, has partly influenced why I’m here in Berkeley...and influences my spiritual life as well. I don’t expect to turn into Jesus. And I don’t think Origen is without flaws; I’m not holding him up here as authoritative, but only as a helpful voice. But I think it’s worth considering Origen's understanding of Christ's humanity as a model for a life of freedom and goodness.

I want to "fall at Jesus' feet" in worship and humility; but I also want to try to put my feet where he put his, walking his way—with God’s help—perhaps even slightly more than I think I am capable of doing, so that perhaps my efforts might eventually become more natural, enabling me to live a life that is more free and more beneficial to the world around me.

And I also want to talk to God about why I'm not an angel; I'm kind of miffed about that. :)