Tuesday, November 6, 2007

CliffsNotes


Dr. Laura Crouch’s eyes were of the piercing and intense variety. I don’t remember their color, but I do remember how she could make freshmen shake in their boots when she looked at them. She was an incredible teacher, however, and I still have fond memories of her.


I don’t think that Dr. Crouch’s effectiveness as a teacher was so much a result of any particular talent for teaching that she had. Instead, I think that her effectiveness sprang almost completely from her passion for the written word, and it was this passion that made her an awesome teacher for the class that all OBU sophomores love to hate, Western Civ.


Western Civ was a requirement for every sophomore that attended OBU, and OBU had its own method of perpetuating this academic madness on its students. OBU's civ class was a total of 12 hours split into two semesters of 6 hours. The class was team taught by a literature professor and a history professor. We studied western civilization from Charlemagne to World War I, and it seemed like no literary stone was left unturned as we dredged our way through the social DNA of the western world.


Civ professors taught the class in one of two large rooms in Shawnee Hall. The chairs were arranged in a long horseshoe around the central lectern, and each row farther from the lectern was raised a foot or so above the row in front of it. I know that this may sound like an ordinary lecture hall, but this room had not been built this way originally. The risers were made of plywood, covered with carpet with cut out niches for the large windows that looked out onto the OBU oval. Even when I was there, the room had the appearance of being worn out.


Although the rooms we met in were ancient, the expectations of the professors for the students were thin air high. When I was taking Civ I always tried to get to class early, so that I could head up into the farthest reaches of the horseshoe. I hoped that this strategy would keep me out of the watchful gaze of Dr. Laura Crouch, and it was from here that Dr. Laura Crouch put on one of her best performances.


It began with a lecture on the Divine Comedy. I was underprepared for the class as usual, and I was attempting to disappear into the white textured walls behind me. Dr. Crouch was in full swing when her gaze fell upon an unsuspecting student in the first row. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. She pulled her shoulders back and stepped out from behind the lectern. She strode over to the young man and in a long swinging motion, snatched a small yellow book from the young man's hands. She turned quickly and returned to her spot behind the lectern and held up the book as if it was Goliath's head, and she was David.


She had the entire class's attention. I don't remember all of what she said since the memory of the event is dominated by the visual drama that had just unfolded, but I do recall a few things. She seemed genuinely offended that someone would be satisfied with someone else's interpretations without having duly searched out a text on their own, and she was trying to make the point that what made the book we were studying a work of art was not just its plot, or its theme, but its structure and texture; its complexity and passion. She said that there was no way a yellow, fifty page paperback magazine could connect you with the passion that the author had so painfully poured into the printed pages of this or any other book.


At the time I doubted her. For one thing I could not see the thing that she was talking about. I didn't see the structure, the texture, the complexity or the passion. All I saw was an ancient fairy tale that I doubted could do anything for me other than make Western Civ wearisome. It took me a while, but I can now say that I am a convert. I now understand that the things that make a book a classic cannot be fully disclosed in a yellow, fifty page, paperback magazine. I now know that the entire work is to be treasured. It is kind of like looking at a picture of a first class meal or tasting it. The picture just doesn't satisfy.


Although I now understand that literature by proxy just doesn't work, I have discovered that I still use cliff notes (well, at least a metaphorical version) in one very important area of my life: salvation. You see, in Sunday School the other day we were talking bout how our group of believers has taken this incredibly complex concept and reduced it to a paragraph long prayer. Here we have access the complete story with all of its structure, texture, complexity and passion and we are satisfied with sharing the Cliff's Notes version; pray this prayer and voila! You're a believer.


I am not saying that there is no merit in such a prayer, and I am sensitive to the idea that the prayer is to be first step in a life long pilgrimmage. It just seems to me that in reducing the miracle of redemption like this we are cheapening it if we don't commit to walking with those who pray that prayer by constantly urging them on.


Instead, it seems that we are more interested in ushering the lost onto the "Fast, Trusted, Proven," road of salvation. We seem to cringe at the words of Jesus about the way being narrow and few walking it. If we can just condense the plot, and outline the characters, and address the major themes then we will get more converts. Really Jesus, just trust us. What you are talking about is really structured, really textured, really complex and really passionate. We will just give them a simpler version. I mean, do you really think people will be able to commit every thing to something as grand as what you are describing?


I am just beginning to discover the complexity and passion of the plan that Jesus has for me. I am still working on getting through this masterpiece he is creating, but there is more here than I will ever understand. Thank God there are no Cliff's Notes for this one.



4 comments:

Pilgrim said...

Great Post. Dante would be so proud! Sanctification is a life-long yearning for Truth Himself. St. Paul tells us we must "with fear and trembling work out your salvation" (Philippians 2:12). We must be HOLY to live with Our Lord in Heaven and holiness does not come from one prayer, one feeling, one moment, one little yellow book.

-Kristy said...

I loved your post. I have wanted to read the divine comedy for years, but have never found the time. The reader's digest approach to salvation is something I really struggle with. It was one of my main concerns when deciding if I could work at Falls Creek. So do you think salvation is something attained after a prayer or a life time goal or commitment? I personally feel like my faith is cheapened when people try to explain Jesus and the great narrative of God's creation and redemption of the world into a five minute talk. Just my thoughts though..

Trent said...

Kristy,

I have tried to write a response to your post 3 times.

I will try again later when I can think carefully about your prayer vs. lifetime. question... I can see the answer clearly in my head but when I try to write it, it becomes pages instead of paragraphs.

Unknown said...

Trent...this is the wife of rockloon. Yes, we're back into the states and I finally got onto your site. Side note,It struck me today that you write strictly to a christian audience. Just wondering if you have noticed that yet?
Anywho, about this blog. Lately, I have been finding myself reducing my entire faith, not just my salvation. For example, I find myself wanting to fit to my cultures mold of a "christian" and fearing my church's opinions and advice for me more than the Spirit's. I have many questions about how much culture influences me rather than the living word? Rather than vicey versey.;P How much do I actually hear the Spirit or do I just hear what I have been taught through the years about tradition and cultural influence? Why am I not able to give firm scripture for what I believe and for what principles I stand on? Do I follow God or the culture of the Church? Do I know God? Will I really know God when He returns? Or will I be sucked into the Antichrist's deception? Am I sucked into it today? I'm thirsty. I'm hungry. I'm scared. I don't like my faith I'm gripping onto. It is a faith I can control. It's easily defined. It's easily obtainable for anyone. It doesn't line up with the faith of Christ. It's not narrow. It doesn't move mountains. It doesn't make spirits obey or tremble when I speak to them. (That's hypothetical.) I'm just saying they would just ask who I am, instead of knowing me by name and fearing my work. That's not the faith I want. My faith is diluted. It's watered down and muddy. I'm tired...of molding, of fearing men, of running a race for the culture of church. I find myself not even knowing how to pray anymore...How to praise anymore...How to thank God anymore. Because, sadly and fearfully, I find myself thinking I don't need His grace and mercy for this faith that I follow. I think my dilution of salvation has run into my entire faith. Do I have a question for you not really? Your blog just hit the surface of my heart these days. I guess this is to say...be nervous about what you see so you want start wearing any offbrand of faith. See ya soon. Thanks for keeping Ruby for us...we owe you all alot.