Two of the books I'm currently reading are about freedom. One is Richard Foster's Freedom of Simplicity: Finding Harmony in a Complex World. The other is Start Late, Finish Rich: A No-Fail Plan for Achieving Financial Freedom at any Age by David Bach. Though Foster's book falls into the category of "Religion/Christian Living" and Bach's can be found in the "Personal Finance" section of the bookstore, the books cover a number of the same topics (in addition to freedom).
One of these topics is attitudes about the accumulation of wealth. Bach's goal is to motivate his readers to take steps that he thinks are most likely to put them in a position of being rich when they retire (these steps are to spend less, save more, and make more). But he says that it is ultimately not about the money:
"What it's about is the feeling of freedom that comes from knowing you are doing something about your worries and fears - that you're in control of your destiny, and not at the mercy of forces beyond your control . . . . It's about having the security and independence to focus on LIVING MORE instead of just having more" (p. 24).
In contrast, Foster emphasizes our dependence on God as our creator, our need to relinquish control over our lives to God, and our need to trust God for our future well-being in order for us to be freed up to be able to cultivate a spirit of extravagant generosity and care for the poor and oppressed. Foster says that Jesus
". . . saw how people were broken by the effort to attain riches. He perceived their awful vulnerability in believing that it was their responsibility to provide for themselves, to watch out for number one" (p. 38).
So Bach's goal is to enable his readers to be free to control their own destiny and Foster's goal is to help people to relinquish control over their lives and trust God to meet their needs. Given these diametrically opposed objectives, might it nonetheless be possible for me to acquire wisdom from both of these books?
I think so. Christians have always been faced with the "faith-works" paradox: How can I work hard at being a responsible steward of the resources that God has given me to do his Kingdom work while at the same time trusting in his provision and care? How can I be diligent in planning for the future without having any anxiety about what the future holds in store for me and my family?
I pray that God would enable me to seek first his Kingdom. I also pray that God would help me to be wise about spending, saving, and making money. I know that true freedom comes from trusting God, but I also know that God wants me to be a wise manager of the money he has given me in order to do his work.
Bach's last chapter is entitled "Give More and Live More." Foster would agree that this is a worthy goal.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
We Are Sojourners
Last night I celebrated my birthday with my wife and two of our kids at Sojourner Cafe (http://www.sojournercafe.com). The food there is tasty, nutritious, and affordable. I had the posole vegetable stew with cilantro pesto. It was a delightful meal and an enjoyable time.
Tomorrow my daughter will set out for Seattle to begin a new chapter of her life. She has friends and family there. She also has a place to live. I suspect that for a while - in spite of her connections in the area - she will feel like an outsider. Other than a four-month stint on a fall Europe study program, she has lived in Santa Barbara for the last thirteen years. I am glad that she will not be a "hostage to fortune" but rather a beloved daughter of God. I will continue to pray for her as she settles in, finds a job, learns to get around, and begins to feel at home. I trust that God will guide and protect her.
People who are new to an area can often feel somewhat alienated and vulnerable (even if also pleased and excited to have moved there). These sorts of emotions are typically amplified when language and culture pose barriers to finding satisfying employment and building close relationships. Our younger son has a good friend whose family moved to the United States from Uzbekistan three years ago. We recently had a picnic with them at which we chatted about their experience of immigrating to this country. Though they are happy to be here, they have also struggled, and the primary challenges have come about because of differences in speech and custom. Unfortunately, they are having to move from Santa Barbara to Calabasas. They hope their new community will be more affordable and that they will be able to find and keep better jobs. They also think that when they are closer to LA, they will be able to find more friends who speak Russian and understand Uzbeki traditions. They want to become Americans, but they also need to be with people who are like them as well. I pray that God will bless them as they transition to their new setting.
Toward the end of his reign, King David presided over a collection of gifts for the building of the temple (which his son Solomon would eventually construct). After the people had made their offering, David prayed to God. After praising him, David said,
"But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly? For all things come from you, and of your own have we given you. For we are strangers before you and sojourners, as all our fathers were. Our days on the earth are like a shadow, and there is no abiding (or "no hope")" (I Chronicles 29:14-15; English Standard Version).
Peter also addressed the Christians of Asia Minor to whom he wrote in his first epistle as "sojourners and exiles." But his characterization of their condition is much more positive:
"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, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade" (1:3-4a).
There is a sense in which we are all sojourners (=people who reside in a place temporarily). Hopefully, remembering this can help us to be more empathetic with and helpful toward people like my daughter and our friends from Uzbekistan who experience their sojourning more consciously and acutely.
At Sojourner Cafe last night my wife ate a salad while I had my stew. These two types of meals represent two different models for a multicultural community. Whether we think of the ideal for such diverse groups as being assimilation (a "melting pot") or pluralism (a "tossed salad"), may we reach out to each other with love, understanding, and appreciation. I know my daughter will like Seattle folk to accept a California girl and our Uzbeki friends will enjoy kind initiatives from their neighbors.
Most importantly, I pray that all of us sojourners will find the "living hope" of which Peter speaks that will lead us to a permanent home where no one will be an outsider.
Tomorrow my daughter will set out for Seattle to begin a new chapter of her life. She has friends and family there. She also has a place to live. I suspect that for a while - in spite of her connections in the area - she will feel like an outsider. Other than a four-month stint on a fall Europe study program, she has lived in Santa Barbara for the last thirteen years. I am glad that she will not be a "hostage to fortune" but rather a beloved daughter of God. I will continue to pray for her as she settles in, finds a job, learns to get around, and begins to feel at home. I trust that God will guide and protect her.
People who are new to an area can often feel somewhat alienated and vulnerable (even if also pleased and excited to have moved there). These sorts of emotions are typically amplified when language and culture pose barriers to finding satisfying employment and building close relationships. Our younger son has a good friend whose family moved to the United States from Uzbekistan three years ago. We recently had a picnic with them at which we chatted about their experience of immigrating to this country. Though they are happy to be here, they have also struggled, and the primary challenges have come about because of differences in speech and custom. Unfortunately, they are having to move from Santa Barbara to Calabasas. They hope their new community will be more affordable and that they will be able to find and keep better jobs. They also think that when they are closer to LA, they will be able to find more friends who speak Russian and understand Uzbeki traditions. They want to become Americans, but they also need to be with people who are like them as well. I pray that God will bless them as they transition to their new setting.
Toward the end of his reign, King David presided over a collection of gifts for the building of the temple (which his son Solomon would eventually construct). After the people had made their offering, David prayed to God. After praising him, David said,
"But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly? For all things come from you, and of your own have we given you. For we are strangers before you and sojourners, as all our fathers were. Our days on the earth are like a shadow, and there is no abiding (or "no hope")" (I Chronicles 29:14-15; English Standard Version).
Peter also addressed the Christians of Asia Minor to whom he wrote in his first epistle as "sojourners and exiles." But his characterization of their condition is much more positive:
"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, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade" (1:3-4a).
There is a sense in which we are all sojourners (=people who reside in a place temporarily). Hopefully, remembering this can help us to be more empathetic with and helpful toward people like my daughter and our friends from Uzbekistan who experience their sojourning more consciously and acutely.
At Sojourner Cafe last night my wife ate a salad while I had my stew. These two types of meals represent two different models for a multicultural community. Whether we think of the ideal for such diverse groups as being assimilation (a "melting pot") or pluralism (a "tossed salad"), may we reach out to each other with love, understanding, and appreciation. I know my daughter will like Seattle folk to accept a California girl and our Uzbeki friends will enjoy kind initiatives from their neighbors.
Most importantly, I pray that all of us sojourners will find the "living hope" of which Peter speaks that will lead us to a permanent home where no one will be an outsider.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
The Prime of Life
Today is my 51st birthday. According to popular opinion, this is a relatively insignificant age. One's 50th birthday, in virtue of marking a half-century of life beyond the womb, is typically given much more attention. And rightfully so. But a little reflection on the number 51 will reveal that a person who has lived this many years has lived a mathematically meaningful amount of time - however lacking one's existence has been in other respects.
The mathematical meaning of 51 years: 51 is a composite number. A composite number is a positive integer that has a positive divisor other than 1 or itself. Every integer greater than 1 is either a prime number or a composite number. A prime number is a natural number that has exactly two distinct natural number divisors, which are 1 and the prime number itself. The prime factorization of a positive integer is the division of that integer into the prime numbers that divide into that number exactly - without remainder. The prime factorization of 51 is 3 x 17. So a person who has lived 51 years has lived through exactly three periods of 17 years.
Aside from the purely intrinsic interest one might have in this arithmetic observation, it can also be useful as a tool for thinking about the seasons of one's life. Since my past life can be divided up into three equal portions, I can meditate on the contributions of each of those parts of my life to my experience as a whole. Though the division may be somewhat arbitary, it may also prove to be instructive. In contemplating this trinity of times, I would no doubt discover multiple reasons for gratitude to the Trinity of Persons who created me, redeemed me, and continues to guide me during this prime of my life.
The mathematical meaning of 51 years: 51 is a composite number. A composite number is a positive integer that has a positive divisor other than 1 or itself. Every integer greater than 1 is either a prime number or a composite number. A prime number is a natural number that has exactly two distinct natural number divisors, which are 1 and the prime number itself. The prime factorization of a positive integer is the division of that integer into the prime numbers that divide into that number exactly - without remainder. The prime factorization of 51 is 3 x 17. So a person who has lived 51 years has lived through exactly three periods of 17 years.
Aside from the purely intrinsic interest one might have in this arithmetic observation, it can also be useful as a tool for thinking about the seasons of one's life. Since my past life can be divided up into three equal portions, I can meditate on the contributions of each of those parts of my life to my experience as a whole. Though the division may be somewhat arbitary, it may also prove to be instructive. In contemplating this trinity of times, I would no doubt discover multiple reasons for gratitude to the Trinity of Persons who created me, redeemed me, and continues to guide me during this prime of my life.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A Feast for the Mind
The title of my new blog, "Gallimaufry-Intellectus," is more than just a strange mouthful of eight syllables.
The first word, 'gallimaufry,' means (according to The American Heritage Dictionary) "a jumble; a hodgepodge" (etymology: French galimafrée, from Old French galimafree, sauce, ragout : probably galer, to make merry; see gallant + mafrer, to gorge oneself [from Middle Dutch moffelen, to open one's mouth wide, of imitative origin]). In medieval times a gallimaufry was a chicken stew with bacon, mustard, and wine. Today 'gallimaufry' can be used as a culinary term to denote any dish with a hodgepodge of ingredients, such as a stew, ragoût, or hash.
The second word, 'intellectus,' refers to one of two modes of thinking identified by the medieval scholastics. The other mode is ratio. Put very simply, ratio is discursive thinking and intellectus is intuitive thinking. According to the late German Catholic philosopher Josef Pieper, in his book Leisure: The Basis of Culture (St. Augustine's Press, 1998),
“The medievals distinguished between the intellect as ratio and the intellect as intellectus. Ratio is the power of discursive thought, of searching and re–searching, abstracting, refining, and concluding [cf. Latin dis–currere, ‘to run to and fro’], whereas intellectus refers to the ability of ‘simply looking’ (simplex intuitus), to which the truth presents itself as a landscape presents itself to the eye. The spiritual knowing power of the human mind, as the ancients understood it, is really two things in one: ratio and intellectus: all knowing involves both. The path of discursive reasoning is accompanied and penetrated by the intellectus’ untiring vision, which is not active but passive, or better, receptive — a receptively operating power of the intellect.”
So my "Gallimaufry-Intellectus" is a mixture of musings inscribed at my leisure. I will be making merry with a miscellany of mental mulling. I invite the reader to taste and see whether the words are good.
The first word, 'gallimaufry,' means (according to The American Heritage Dictionary) "a jumble; a hodgepodge" (etymology: French galimafrée, from Old French galimafree, sauce, ragout : probably galer, to make merry; see gallant + mafrer, to gorge oneself [from Middle Dutch moffelen, to open one's mouth wide, of imitative origin]). In medieval times a gallimaufry was a chicken stew with bacon, mustard, and wine. Today 'gallimaufry' can be used as a culinary term to denote any dish with a hodgepodge of ingredients, such as a stew, ragoût, or hash.
The second word, 'intellectus,' refers to one of two modes of thinking identified by the medieval scholastics. The other mode is ratio. Put very simply, ratio is discursive thinking and intellectus is intuitive thinking. According to the late German Catholic philosopher Josef Pieper, in his book Leisure: The Basis of Culture (St. Augustine's Press, 1998),
“The medievals distinguished between the intellect as ratio and the intellect as intellectus. Ratio is the power of discursive thought, of searching and re–searching, abstracting, refining, and concluding [cf. Latin dis–currere, ‘to run to and fro’], whereas intellectus refers to the ability of ‘simply looking’ (simplex intuitus), to which the truth presents itself as a landscape presents itself to the eye. The spiritual knowing power of the human mind, as the ancients understood it, is really two things in one: ratio and intellectus: all knowing involves both. The path of discursive reasoning is accompanied and penetrated by the intellectus’ untiring vision, which is not active but passive, or better, receptive — a receptively operating power of the intellect.”
So my "Gallimaufry-Intellectus" is a mixture of musings inscribed at my leisure. I will be making merry with a miscellany of mental mulling. I invite the reader to taste and see whether the words are good.
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