Restless

Zing.

That's the sound of Pascal sharply zapping me where it hurts.

The 2 chapters on deck this week were on Diversion and Indifference. If you didn't get a chance to read or are a little behind and have just decided to scrap the project all together, I beg you, read Pascal's sermon on diversion. Open up to page 172 and read #136. But only if you're willing to be bothered a little bit.

I'll give you a litte nugget from the opening paragraph:

I have often said that the sole cause of a man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.

Read the rest, it's worth it! I found Pascal painting a picture that looks a little too much like me for my comfort.

And be warned, both chapters force you to think about death--not sick, twisted, you-can-barely-watch-it-but-are-fascinated-at-the-same-time Dark Knight Joker death--but the reality of human frailty and our efforts to avoid considering the truth.

Bottom line: to truly live well, man must consider his wretchedness, God's goodness, and the fleeting nature of this life. And there's nothing we seem to want to do less. My prayer as I'm writing this is that again God would teach me to see with an eye to his kingdom and that I would be meek and ready to respond. As Augustine noted "...thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee."

Questions for consideration this week:

1) How is the summer going? Are you doing well? Can we pray for you? Have you found "it is not good to be too free?"

2) What have you been learning lately? Maybe in Pascal, reading the Bible, or in your experience where you're at, share something that will encourage or challenge your fellow Chi Alphans.

Kreeft Trumps Pascal?

This summer we're reading through Christianity for Modern Pagans, an annotated edition of Blaise Pascal's Pensees. Today we were to have read chapters 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 (pages 105 -164).

I have to be honest, I didn't like the readings that much this week. I don't know why, but they didn't grip me like they usually do. I was digging Kreeft's comments more than Pascal's insights. To wit:

page 111: Indeed, how could reason itself be validated? There are only three possibilities: (1) by something subrational, like animal instinct (which is obviously absurd: How can the inferior validate the superior?); or (2) by something rational, by a piece of reasoning (which is also absurd: How can the part justify the whole? All reason is on trial; how dare the one piece of reasoning you use to justify all reasoning be exempt from trial?); or (3) by something superrational, by faith in God (which is the only possibility left).

page 120: Science no more proves nature is not a mother but only matter than an X-ray proves that a woman is not a mother but only a bag of bones.

page 135: Our civilization has the fidgets.

page 144: Voltaire joked that medieval French peasants knew more about the geography of Heaven than about the geography of France. Pascal would not see this as a joke but as a privilege, and eminently reasonable.

But one of Pascal's comments brought me up short:

164: I agree the Copernicus' opinion need not be more closely examined. But this: It affects our whole life to know whether the soul is mortal or immortal.

How many useless facts have you mastered at Stanford?

Compare that with how many class sessions have been devoted to discussing whether or not this life is all that there is.

Also, was I the only one not digging Blaise this week?

Wretchedness and Vanity

This summer we're reading through Christianity for Modern Pagans, an annotated edition of Blaise Pascal's Pensees. For the record, this week we were to have read chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (pages 47-104). I'll try to put the schedule in the sidebar so that there's an online reference in case you lose your little sheet.

By the way - anyone doing the readings is welcome to post. You can post almost anything - the passage you liked best, an anecdote that illustrates the point, or questions about the reading you want us to answer. Just up and do it - if you need help posting email Glen or Alan.

I had hoped to post on this earlier, but I couldn't find my book. It's lying lost somewhere in my house, no doubt buried beneath some discarded Happy Meal toys. *sigh* Such is the lot of parenthood. Lindsey was kind enough to loan me her copy, so here's what stuck out to me from this set of readings.

This week's reading includes the line from Pascal that has shaped my thought more than any other, "There is enough light for those who desire only to see, and enough darkness for those of a contrary disposition" (page 69). It's an amazingly simple explanation of the thing we observe every day at Stanford, namely that some smart people think God's existence is blindingly obvious, some smart people thing that God's nonexistence is blindingly obvious, and some people who are just confused.

I also like Pensees 697 & 699 (page 94-95):

697: Those who lead disorderly lives tell those who are normal that is it they who deviate from nature, and think they are following nature themselves; just as those who are board ship think that the people on shore are moving away. Language is the same everywhere; we need a fixed point to judge it. The harbour is the judge of those aboard ship, but where are we going to find a harbour in morals?

699: When everything is moving at once, nothing appears to be moving, as on board ship. When everyone is moving towards depravity, no one seems to be moving, but if someone stops he shows up the others who are rushing on, by acting as a fixed point.

We've reached a very strange place in our culture whereby merely stating that you don't participate in debauchery yourself can offend people. You can actually be called "holier-than-thou" simply for exercising minimal self-restraint. Pascal explains the underlying dynamics beautifully.

And did anyone else think of Jerry and balloons while reading page 102? Or maybe Esther and spiders? Or Hilary and rats?

Oh, and check this out: Kreeft has an essay on surfing and spirituality which he has evidently turned into a book: I Surf, Therefore I Am. For real. Might make for good beach reading.

Talking about God with atheists

Hey all,

This week's reading made me wince a bit. It was excellent and
thought-provoking, but it also reminded me very clearly that I often
approach things the wrong way when I talk about God with my atheist
friends. I was particularly convicted by a quotation of Kierkegaard
that Kreeft places in his explication of the 701st Pensee (pages
39-41).

From page 40:
"A direct attack only strengthens a person in his illusion and, at the
same time, embitters him.... It implies moreover the presumption of
requiring a man to make to another person, or in his presence, an
admission which he can make most profitably to himself privately.
This is what is achieved by the indirect method which, loving and
serving the truth, arranges everything dialectically for the
prospective captive, and then shyly withdraws (for love is always
shy), so as not to witness the admission which he makes to himself
alone before God--that he has lived hitherto in an illusion....
If real success is to attend the effort to bring a man to a definite
position, one must first of all take pains to find him where he is and
begin there. This is the secret of the art of helping others.... If,
however, I am disposed to plume myself on my greater understanding, it
is because I am vain or proud, so that at bottom, instead of
benefiting him, I want to be admired. But all true effort to help
begins with self-humiliation...."

And Kreeft adds, "What Kierkegaard describes above is also exactly
Socrates' method."

Sometimes, when talking with atheist friends about God (or, more
honestly, arguing with them), I give good answers--and sometimes
not--but even when I do, it's useless. No matter how reasonable I may
seem, it means very little if I'm just trying to appear all wise and
logical in their eyes. People are much more swayed by humility, and
also:

737. "We are usually convinced more easily by reasons we have found
ourselves than by those which have occurred to others."

So the method that Kierkegaard and Pascal advocate is really much
better, both because it's simply more effective, and because it
doesn't cause the gospel to be dishonored by our pride and our desire
to be considered smart.

I've always known that the way I converse with atheists about our
different beliefs is less than ideal, but I hadn't really found a
clear alternative. This chapter has given me a pattern to match.
Woohoo!

Clare