Re (3): living among the dead

Karen,

Yes, indeed: I am surrounded by songs of deliverance. And though there have been some dark times in my life where balance has been precariously offset—not the least of which have been expressed recently—some very practical considerations ought to be brought to bear concerning my own place in life. Consider (a) up until very recently I did not even own a television (and have not watched it since its arrival), (b) I am not married, (c) I was terminated from my job in March and therefore have been able to devote full time and attention to my studies, and (d) my dependence on God in my circumstances is no different than everyone else's dependence on God in the situations in which life finds them. Of course, I have considered whether or not it is within the will of God to advance my schooling—sometimes to the excess of morbid introspection—but I do believe that God has called me to a place where my education will be an invaluable resource, even if not strictly necessary (for God is not limited).

My education has already helped me in the fact that I write more cogently and think more clearly. Much of what you appreciate about this site is augmented by skills honed in college, which well suits my latent talents: I am inclined to the life of the mind and always have been. To the degree that I rely on God is largely the degree to which I am able to sanely and effectively meet all the requirements of my day—that single, never-ending deadline—though even here God sometimes provides me with undeserved grace. For the Christian, coping is always a matter of dependence; perhaps the same could be said of anyone, the question being upon what we depend.

You know, while it is wrenched even out of the immediate (and somber) context of the passage (much less the larger address to the Twelve), nonetheless, I have always believed that God has expressly given me Matthew 10:18: "And ye shall be brought before governors and kings for my sake." The sense in which it seems that this was given me is more in accord with Proverbs 22:29: "Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men." Perhaps that is a simple reflection of what will happen with this site (and likely already does to some degree) or perhaps I even have wax in my ears. But inwardly, I don't think so. I think it was a promise given much like that given Abraham: an aged man, a barren wife, yet descendents like the sands of the sea. I don't say I feel qualified. I don't say I even necessarily wish it to be true. But it certainly seems to me that if it is prophetic, an education would heartily advance this cause, at least if the ordinary channels are charted. Who exactly is it that the Western world counts as it prophets? Is it not the professors and the sages in white lab coats? Think of legal counsel, newscasts, documentaries. Those who manage information well are key in our day; it is they most likely to be of service to kings, particularly if they display a certain flair.

Since the gifts of my honing consist not only of a penchant for the printed page, but also the mind in the driver's seat, my words could well outlive me just as many of the men and women of letters whose words have inspired me. The vast majority of my favorite authors—certainly the top handful that have most inspired me—are no longer living. Yet their skill with the printed page continues to imprint minds. It is often true, as Bulwer Lytton said, that the pen is mightier than the sword: sometimes for great gain, sometimes to great ruin, but always capable of traveling to the innermost parts of a man where they can best work their magic or mischief, as the case may accord. After all, life and death are within the power of the tongue.

Despite these talents, however, I often bemoan my relative lack of "hands-on" impact in the world around me. I tend to be reserved and do not often speak my mind aloud or make new acquaintances; though I am capable of such things, it often turns into the charisma of the curiously detached instead of the intimate bonds of friendship. Yet as much as I might bemoan this—and indeed not to negate that I should continue to strive to be as personable as possible—my public strengths are viable primarily because of my private character. (That is to say, times of prolonged solitude are the necessary job description of a man of letters.) Still, I yearn to be more personable and have even had periods in my life where such could be said of me. I do have a natural charisma, but the most infectious part of a man is his heartfelt smile or the eyes that reach out and affectionately engage your own; such are not always so readily visible upon my face.

Growing up the son of a mechanic as handy with his hands as his mind, I used to think of myself as being incredibly lazy because I seemed to have little penchant for manual labor. But a Christian friend pointed out several years ago that I was not lazy—in fact I was a very highly motivated and ambitious individual—I was just motivated by different things because my strengths lay more in the realm of the mind than in my hands. Now of course I can operate ordinary power tools and swing a hammer with a reasonable degree of precision, but I lack the aptitude, interest, and even the endurance to make such things my specialty.

The man digging ditches as I drive by is no lesser for it; I am no greater for my own gift. But each of us has his own calling, and that, as Kathleen Norris writes of her own vocation as poet in Jeremiah as Writer: The Necessary Other, is often the cross we have been called to bear. We are funny creatures: we long for normalcy and belonging, yet we also desire recognition of one sort or another. I think that is simply a reflection of our Heavenly craftsmanship: we were created to be communal and have been accordingly—and uniquely—gifted: one body, many parts. Our gifts function best when in service to the community, and no one, including ourselves, should belittle us for them, even if their usefulness seems far less apparent to us than those gifts bestowed upon our neighbor. Not a single one of us is immune to this double-sightedness, for, a beautiful woman cannot see her own face (else she be seduced by the admiring gaze of the mirror).

Well then, I have said little of what I had intended and much of what I did not, but in any case, the little corner of the world in which I live carries with it its own unique sets of strengths and weaknesses. I am more susceptible to certain things than are you and vice versa, likely with many areas of overlap. Of course, there are times I feel particularly affected, like the allusion in my response. But the important thing is not to berate myself but simply to live a day at a time, being honest with myself, with God, and with my fellow man. I firmly believe more rays are cast by honest darkness than superficial piety. In any case, denial never helped anyone see the light.

God bless,
Eric

• Re(4): living among the dead - By Becky October 31, 2004 at 03:01:30 PM
  • Re(5): living among the dead - By Eric October 31, 2004 at 07:52:20 PM
    • Re(6): living among the dead - By Becky November 9, 2004 at 09:21:29 AM
      • Re(7): living among the dead - By Eric November 14, 2004 at 12:58:07 PM
    • Re(6): living among the dead - By Bill November 1, 2004 at 01:22:54 PM
• Re(4): living among the dead - By Karen October 25, 2004 at 05:21:16 PM
  • Re(5): living among the dead - By Eric October 25, 2004 at 06:19:18 PM
• Re(3): living among the dead - By Bill October 25, 2004 at 01:21:18 PM