Summer in the City of God: Update

I mentioned earlier that my summer semester is an intensive six-week course on Augustine’s City of God.

Yes. It is intense.

My house is a mess, and I’ve been letting my daughter watch too much TV so that I can do homework. I’ve been hunching over my book so much that my pinky finger is going numb from a knot in my shoulder. My finger tips are bruised from taking reading notes.

But this book is so, so, rich. The beauty of Christ shines brightly in Augustine’s words..

I’m too tired to put together a reflection right now, but I thought you might be interested in a few quotes. Here are two powerful passages about the mediation of Christ:

“The mortality of Christ, which might be a stone of stumbling to [the unbeliever], is no longer. In one case, there is everlasting misery to be feared. In the other, there is no death to be dreaded, for death was not able to endure eternally: rather, eternal blessedness is to be loved. The immortal and miserable mediator [a demon] interposes himself in order to prevent us from passing to a blessed immortality; for that which impedes our passage, namely misery itself, persists in him. But the mortal and blessed Mediator interposed Himself so that, having passed through mortality, He might make the dead immortal by the power which he showed in His own resurrection, and bestow upon the miserable the blessedness which He Himself had never relinquished.” (Book IX, Chapter 16).

“[Jesus] is the Mediator because He is man; and by His manhood He shows us that, in order to obtain the good which is not only blessed but bliss-bestowing we need not seek other mediators by whose aid, as we might suppose, we are gradually to strive towards it. We have no such need because a God Who is blessed and bliss-bestowing has become a sharer in our humanity, and so has furnished us with all that we need to share in His divinity.” (Book IX, Chapter 16)

Augustine was a brilliant theologian, rhetorician, and writer. It’s a privilege to learn from him.

Time-Outs: Adult-Style

The Problem

It seems that every time I sit down in a quiet moment to get some things done — homework, catching up on emails, planning a vacation, meal planning, whatever — I immediately remember all of the other things I meant to have done at different times:

Hey, I never responded to that text! Oh wait, before I dive into my work I should just add this one thing to my Amazon list. That reminds me, I needed to buy so-and-so a birthday gift and RSVP for so-and-so’s wedding. Oh! and I wanted to look at that other friend’s wedding pictures and watch that cute puppy video and that reminds me to renew my dog’s license and find out when that city compost is available and find out how to keep the fungus off of my tomatoes and look up summer recipes that use tomatoes on Pinterest, and oh wow, those are cute shoes, I wonder if I can find some like that on the DSW website and…

I don’t know about you, but that scenario usually takes place within about five minutes of sitting down with my work — even if it’s a hard copy book in my lap. Between the nearly constant needs (or just plain ol’ cuteness) of my toddler and the technology-saturated culture, my ability to pay attention to any one thing for more than five or ten minutes has been severely handicapped. This is bad for me for a lot of reasons, but particularly in this season of life where I need to do a lot of reading for my graduate program. From what I hear, I’m not alone in this.

The Solution

Taking cues from the world of toddlers and time-outs, I’ve begun forcing myself to adhere to a timer. I set the timer on my phone, so that every time I reach for my phone I’m greeted not just with the time of day but with the length of time remaining before I’ll allow myself to unlock my phone. It’s simple, but don’t underestimate how helpful it can be! I usually set the timer for at least half an hour at a time, and refuse to take breaks (unless interrupted by a living breathing person) until the timer goes off.

It’s not always a smooth transition — it’s hard to train yourself to not reach for your phone every time you think of a question that can easily be answered by a glance at your calendar or google. I usually find myself looking at my phone several times in short succession near the beginning of my timed “work” session, but the amazing thing is that as the minutes go by it gets easier and easier to ignore the technology at hand. If I can just push through those first minutes I am inevitably rewarded by a more fruitful time of work or study.

Maybe even more helpfully, I also time my breaks. I’ll work for 30min–1hr, and then set my timer for a 5min break. When the timer goes off, it breaks my concentration on whatever meaningless entertainment has sucked me in and I’m able to refocus on whatever goal I was working toward.

It sounds silly, maybe. After all, we should all have enough self control to concentrate for more than five minutes, shouldn’t we? Well, yes. But how many of us actually do? I’m working actively to combat the temptations to constant distractions. For me, the timer method is really helping. Let me know if you give it a try!

On Being Useful

Yesterday was the first class of my summer semester. My professor was telling us about the paper due at the end of the course, and said something that I think was profound. I can’t quote him, but he essentially said: “Write about something that you’re pretty sure you know. Write the obvious. What’s obvious to you may not be obvious to everyone, and if you write what you don’t know, what use is that? What you write will only be useful to anyone if you write what you know.” He added, jokingly serious, “and if you’re brilliant, what’s obvious may just change all of academia.”

I remember turning in my senior seminar paper in undergrad with such pride. I felt like I had grown so much as I wrote it, and for the first time I felt like grad school was attainable: I knew big words, and I knew how to use them. Surely, if you know big words and how to use them, you know what you’re talking about when you use them. Right?

Ha. No.

It’s been years since I’ve written a paper of the same quality that I wrote in undergrad. Even here in grad school I have yet to find the opportunity to put the time and effort into a paper that my senior seminar paper received. In some ways, that paper is still the pinnacle of my academic “career.” But eight years out of college and half-way through a master’s program, I find myself not wanting to use big words that will gain the respect of people who know less about the few things that I know. And I don’t care about learning the lingo that makes people think that I’m a funny and smart blogger. Instead, I find myself worrying more about being useful. I don’t want to write things that make me popular, I want to write things that last — that are good, true, and beautiful. After a living in Ecclesiastes for the last year, seeing how utterly meaningless things can be, I want what I write to be rooted and grounded in what is good for building up. Not just vapor that is gone with the wind.

Yesterday was the first class of my summer semester. My professor was telling us about the paper due at the end of the course, and said something that I think was profound. I can’t quote him, but he essentially said: “Write about something that you’re pretty sure you know. Write the obvious. What’s obvious to you may not be obvious to everyone, and if you write what you don’t know, what use is that? What you write will only be useful to anyone if you write what you know.” He added, jokingly serious, “and if you’re brilliant, what’s obvious may just change all of academia.”

It was a good reminder. Skills are wonderful. Academic rigor is wonderful. Making a living is wonderful. But if the skills, the rigor are not in the service of real useful work, then what’s the point?

Summer in the City of God

Yesterday I received the textbook for my summer class. 1,200 pages, friends. And I will be reading every word.

So if you happen to find me missing sometime between mid-June and the end of July, you’ll know why.

It’s Been A Month Already??

Well, I’m sorry. That month just flew by! I knew I had been slacking, but a whole month?

I guess The Unhurried Chase is due for an update! Here’s what I’ve been up to:

I finished my semester! Phew. I wrote my final paper on Pacifism, particularly the thoughts of Thomas Merton — a Catholic monk who lived in Kentucky. He believed that the Just War, while in line with biblical teaching and Catholic tradition, was out-dated and impossible with the advent of nuclear weapons. It was an interesting paper, and I found myself leaning closer to pacifism than I expected.

We are working on potty training! Yikes. It’s been about two weeks, and there have been moments of great triumph and days of discouragement. Let’s just say we’ve done loads of laundry every day for these weeks. She was doing wonderfully before the long weekend, but long days of graduation, wedding, visiting grandparents, strange sleep schedules, etc. just really threw us off the groove! But back at it this week.

Summer is here! We got a wading pool for our sweet girl, and she loves it. And just being outside in general. I planted a garden! I’ve been raising little baby tomatoes and peppers in our window for weeks, and it feels so good to plop them in the ground. I have my fingers crossed for them — we’ve typically had really bad luck with a garden because we have a very shady yard and a black walnut tree. But this year I’m determined. Maybe I’ll show you some pictures — gardening has been quite the creative process this year.

I’ve been reading — so much! Two weeks ago I finished Harriet Beecher Stowe: A Spiritual Life and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (audio). Last week I finished No Little Women by Aimee Byrd. This week I finished Out of a Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis, and The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (audio). I’ve also started the graphic novel The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage, by Sydney Padua, and I’m also listening to The Light Between Oceans. I’m nearly half-way finished with my Challies challenge (woohoo!), and I think I may be over half-way on my Goodreads goal. I really needed to get ahead during break — who knows what these few months will hold!

I called the exterminator. I think we have mice (but not in our food, thankfully!).

I found a new favorite bread recipe: Cranberry Pecan Rye Bread. I skip the caraway, and it is amazing. My daughter doesn’t like it, but we aren’t complaining!

What’s Next?

My summer class begins in two weeks, as I mentioned before. I’m eager to dive in because it’s an entire class devoted to Augustine’s City of God, but to be honest, I’m a bit nervous because the summer semester is pretty intense. Also, I really love break.

As far as extra-curricular reading, next up after my current books is Understood Betsy. I’ve heard it’s excellent.

So there’s the update. I hope that I’ll be able to get back into a regular rhythm here soon. Thanks for your patience!

Exhaustion, Travel, Aquinas

Have you ever taken a toddler on a trip in a different time zone by yourself? Have you ever done it three days after spending a weekend away — the same weekend where there is a death in the family? Have you ever done it mid-semester after a summer of illness and loss?

I have. I think that experience is the word “EXHAUSTION” incarnate.

Aquinas has been overwhelming but good in this chaotic week. Reading his thoughts on providence, election, and the sovereignty of God over his creation is a comfort, particularly in times of discouragement and loss:

“He wills the presence of a greater good more than He wills the absence of a lesser evil…So in order that certain greater goods may be had, He permits certain persons to fall…” (De veritate, Q5, A5)

“Even though it may seem to us that all things happen equally to the good and to the evil since we are ignorant of the reasons for God’s providence in allotting these things, there is no doubt that in all these good and evil things happening…there is operative a well worked out plan by which God’s providence directs all things. It is because we do not know His reasons that we think many things happen without order or plan.” (De veritate, Q5, A5)