Savoir King

 

Nope, that's not a typo. It's an awful theological-Francophone pun.

Leading worship Wednesday afternoon at CU prayer meeting, just reminded of the amazing truth that we are able "savoir [the] King" - to know the King. First, that we even are rationally aware (savoir) of His existence, like maths, logic, etc. That He has let us in on this mystery, of His existence. But, more than that. we get to know Him as a person (connaitre), fathom some of His habits, His characteristics; to see a small portion of His nature. It's amazing love, but, fearful. His nature is scary. It's different. I've just finished Deuteronomy this morning, and found myself thinking "my God, You are very different to me". Polycottons are sinful. But this is who He is, we cannot tailor God to our wants and desires, or else He is no longer God.

In fact, this is probably the only area on which we find Nietzsche and Tozer are in agreement. Nietzsche's main argument against God - and by that I mean, laying aside the childish stuff he writes in Beyond Good & Evil, where he likens Religious belief to the awkward stages of puberty, and laying aside also the interesting but empirically invalid divisions of history into "three epochs", the last of which, supposedly, we're living in wherein we've sacrificed God Himself, although Freddy never backs these claims up - the main argument he has against God is that He's too domestic. Whereas the God of the Old Testament was fierce, the God of the New Testament is for the "weak-willed", He's simply too nice. In short, the problem Nietzsche has with God is something wrong with Nietzsche's perception of God. Nietzsche's YHWH is too small.

Aiden Wilson Tozer agrees. I'd quote you, but Alf has my copy of The Knowledge of the Holy, but in essence, the biggest danger facing the Church is our perception of God. God is not our good luck charm. God is not there to help us out when we do something crazy. God is not here to make us rich. God is not more interested in kittens than pro-wrestling. Our God is too small. When we understand God, when we can fit Him into neat categories, when the Trinity makes sense - then we have misunderstood God.

Anselm's argument for the existence of God is that, logically, we all have something we can think of that nothing greater can exist, or, in his words, "He is something than which nothing greater can be conceived". The only way to improve this Being is by making Him exist - that is the only thing that could possibly make him better, and, since there can be nothing better, He must exist. BUT even this doesn't go far enough. Because God is bigger than the greatest thought we can have. The thing that "something than which nothing greater can be conceived" is still too small a God. If we ever define Him solely in our own experience, solely in our understanding of Him, then we have missed who He really is.

God is fierce, God is holy, God is totally unlike us. This is what the Old Testament screams, from creation to the Fall to the patriarchs to the law to the history, through the wisdom, through the prophets: "I AM NOT LIKE YOU". But at the same time, "I HAVE CHOSEN YOU". We need to get these 2 in the right order in our minds. We cannot grasp the magnitude of the second statement without understanding the magnitude of the first. This concept, that where sin increases, grace increases further - that, even greater than this unfathomable rift between us and God, greater is the distance that God has removed us from our sin - this is incredible. We now come before Him in a weird mixture of confidence through Jesus, yes, but with reverent and holy fear. You are so not like me. I am so not worthy of knowing You.

Anyway. It was a good afternoon, fun times in spontaneous singing and stuff. And it's a good, reverb-y room, which makes hitting high notes (G#!!!) easier. (The G# wasn't during the time of worship, or I would've ended up like Uzzah, for real.) But it is absolutely freezing.

This is the view from Stevenage, back home:

Is it autumn? Is it winter? Who knows! But whatever it is, it's typical that it happens a day after I come back to Brighton. Here, it is just freezing.

Oh well.

At least I've still got the sea. 

Where Is Home?

This is my home. Not Stevenage. Not Brighton just yet. But, 100 miles makes a station feel more like it. Feeling temporal about everything isn't bad, Paul enjoyed it tremendously. But, as good as being back in my house was, and seeing my family, it doesn't feel the same. It's odd. Being in Stevenage felt a little bit like seeing an ex-girlfriend, in a weird, antrhopomorphic, only slightly weird way. However, I appreciated the comfort of a shower that works nicely, and a house without 11 other teenagers. That was cool.

After getting an impressive amount of hair cut off, seeing Tom, seeing Tim, I got home, caught up with my parents and Miss Urso, and then my brooo! I think I missed him the most, he's an absolute legend. We went to his house in the beauty (?) that is Bedwell, then off around in Hitchin, from bar to bar (Bombara, Bar Absolute, Some Place I've Forgotten The Name Of), having good times! If slightly overdressed times. The one thing about Brighton is spending enough time going out at night there desensitises you to what people think is really weird. Waistocasts, slightly lesbian hair... yeah, it's nothing. Until Hitchin gets a 50s night, a pyjama party and a bus where lemons are valid currency, they got nothing.

Anyway, in terms of insightful blog post... little else to say. I have a whole load of pictures that tell the story better. It was 29 hours, but 29 hours of fun. Kinda wish I got to see more people, but I was looking forward to getting back. Lots of reading on the train back, The Market Inn in Brighton for drinks with dudes, Roast Ox crisps, an extra hour in bed, a fun day at CCK, lunch at Devil's Dyke, lectures today, presentation on Wednesday... busy busy busy.

I'll keep you posted, but until then... a picture's worth 1000 words. So here's a few thousand words:

(Top to Bottom: A. Brothers In Arms/Hair/The Mirror. B. etulosbA raB. Or something. C. Goodbye Hair! D. Train Journeys + Yugoslav National Self Determination = A Rollicking Good Time! E. ROAST OX! The Crisps of Men. F. Library Square.)

Photos That Didn't Fit Anywhere Else...

(Top to Bottom: A. West Pier on a cloudy day; B. Raving at Fresher's Ball; C. Handstands by the clock tower; D. Eating the big metal donut thing; E. 70's night means hair, real and fake; F. Stranded; G. On Sussex Downs; H. The Pier at night.)

Apologies, Apologies

This was in this week's newsletter for church back in Stevenage, which I suppose means I'm comitted to writing now! So, I know I haven't posted in a looong time. Sorry. Turns out Uni isn't just parties, but actually necessitates some work... I, for one, feel horribly misled.


I kid. But seriously, it turns out IR is one of the most book-heavy courses you can study. I think I've read more the last 2 weeks in study than I have the last 2 years in pleasure. It's a real range, some of it is infinitely interesting - the role of the concept of development as actually a purely post-colonial phenomena, as a way of exerting power over them by projecting our image of "success" onto their implied "failure", for example, or the concept of the total unreliability of history - but then, some of it really isn't... Kant on the moral duty to non-human animals... gah. Also, even if you're Michael Foucault, after 60 pages on the Iranian Revolution, everyone becomes boring.



Anyway, what's new? To be honest, it feels like home, it feels like routine... I've settled here now, it's become the norm. No disrespect to Stevenage at all. But yeah. I love it. Threefold:



1. Intellectually. Yes, it's a lot of reading and work, but it's good reading, and it's challenging, and it's going in. And I'm making it okay! It is satisfying, for the most part, rather than Solomon-like "toil", and the fact that I can talk at length and debate it is probably the most satisfying part. It means I learn more about myself. Like how I'm a total idealist about how the world can be a better place, yet paradoxiaclly have profound distrust for human nature. Awesome.



2. Culturally. It's taking a while to adjust, I'll admit. 1am apparently is really early, and nobody goes out will about 10pm. So I'm adapting. But Brighton is an amazing city. The night before last went to a small local gig at Kulture on the seafront, with some local indie bands and my mate Tom's soul band. It was eclectic, cosy, and nice. I love live music, but moreso, I love good live music. And I am satisfied here. Friday at the Komedia was 50's night, which now means I've been to a 50's night, a 60's night, a 70's night, and a 90's night. Somehow I've managed to skip the best decade EVERRR! Gutted. Also, Brighton has real shops with real clothes (!!!), and a guitar shop I could lose myself in forever. Walking round North Laine is a whole lot of fun. But the nightlife, the people, the pubs, the curry houses, wokmania, the clubs, the beach, the shops... it's an exciting place to be. I'm loving it.



3. Spiritually. At CCK, this is a given. Some great traditions everyone can learn from:







(i) The Post-Saturday-Morning-Prayer-Meeting Breakfast. At, happily, a place called Breakfast at Tiffany's, so my love for the 80's is satisfied. Full English for £3, after some quality time with Jesus. Nice.



(ii) The Post-Sunday-Evening-Service trip t'Pub. San Miguel on tap, after some quality time with Jesus. Awesome.



(iii) The Omniprescence of Guitars. Evening services, frankly, rock. Morning services are like Newday but with the volume turned down a little bit, but nonetheless, guitar-heavy. It's good stuff. Tom, the dude who's in the soul band that played on Tuesday, played this week's am service. Stuart Townend + violins + blues guitar = a definite win. Seriously.




(iv) Serving! Maybe it's the fact that most of the people I hang around with from CCK are doing Impact/FP. Or maybe it's just because I'm weird. (See above: Andy & Cat playing in bins. This is normal CCK behaviour.) But, either way, one of the most satisfying things is going to a meeting, and serving: set-up, welcome, registration, Worship School, lights, set-down, whatever. It's good! And, it's not toil. And, it's springing from a good place. I make no apologies for settling fast and giving my all to the church where I'm at.


(v) Honesty (and text messages). Joel Virgo is an intense preacher. He is teaching through Ecclesiastes, and not making it lovely. He is being raw and honest and real, and still pointing to Jesus, but not hiding the honesty. I love it.




Anyway, as always, it turns out I'm more analytic than descriptive. Which is great for essays, but not for blogs, sadly. Tomorow I am going back to Stevenage for my brother's birthday, and coming back to Brighton on the Sunday (so sorry to everyone I'll miss!). But, should anything interesting happen, I'll post it. And I'll try to just describe, not analyse... key word there, "try".

When Through The Woods...

This is my quiet time space - talking to Jesus, when through the woods and forest glades I wander... (that's an old school hymn reference, kudos to anyone who gets it). Also, same applies for when I look down from lofty mountain grandeur:

So incredibly pretty, such a priveledge to go a-wandering accross the Downs.

I'm under doctors' orders today. I registered with the campus GP because they refused to acknowledge I was ill otherwise, and I def needed something to sort out this throat thing. (I thought it might be some kind of mould growing in my room, as it was dank and cold and smelt awful, but according to the porter, that's "new carpet smell", so it turns out I'm just ill. Awesome.) I have a very early form of Fresher's Flu, so I'm on strong Paracetamol and Codeine, along with Strespils, which should make life somewhat nicer. I've also been told to not "burn the candle at both ends", so, apart from Fresher's Ball tonight, I've been staying in, reading, chilling and such. Which makes it easier to wake up early and go on morning strolls, which is better than going out late anyway.

Ooh, also, meet Breakfast, the Prayer Dog:

Possibly, the coolest dog ever - up there with Alf & Mandy's Barney, who also is an ex-rescue home dog. Had a CU prayer meetingy thing this morning, and Amy's housemates were all gone, so Brek had to follow us around and pray and evangelise with us. She was very well behaved, apart from chasing some squirrels, but she repented of that. I think.

This week has been made up of usually spending a lot of the day with CU guys, doing some reading (even though I don't really have to; lectures don't start till Monday, but some preliminary understanding and preparation for actually, y'know, thinking about stuff seemed like a good idea), and then spending evenings with the guys in my flat, either at ours chilling out or out at places. For those keeping tabs/praying for me, I've spent Fresher's Week totally sober, which is some small miracle! Even on the pub crawl. Not by my might...

The thing I've found is, usually, tolerant, liberal populations seem to be intolerant to things they percieve as intolerant: Christianity, for example. But people here are actually quite logical with their tolerance, they follow it through to an impressive extent (unless you're in the BNP). So, although no-one else in my house believes in God, everyone's cool with the fact I do, everyone's supportive of me not drinking - they give me amnesty in the alcohol budget, they say they'll stick up for me if guests question me - which is really cool! Wasn't expecting that. Not a lot of opposition, and a few good conversations.

One thing we are all intolerant of, however, is digusting mess. This is the top of our cooker:

(and Joelle's reaction to the top of our cooker:)

Other stuff: cooking's going well! Had 2 house meals altogether this week: a curry and a pasta bolognase, it's going to be a Parky V16 tradition, about 2-3 times a week. Good times.

Fresher's Fair

Brighton Tsunami American Football Team, Project V volunteering society, the walking society, CU, READ International books for the Third World society, Debate Soc, Alt Soc, Hear Afrika, Ultimate Frisbee society, USSU Choir, Surf society, Fair Trade society, Model UN society, Cash for Psychology Experiments, The Meeting House, and somehow the Socialist Society all now have my e-mail address to inform me of upcoming meetings and events. Fresher's Fair is mental.

Also, this morning I had to spend £50 on required reading for my courses, and probably another £30 at some point this week. That's near enough my weekly budget!!! Uni is expensive, and full of persuasive weirdos (see: The Pirate Society, the VGA tempting people in with FREE SUPER SMASH BROS!!!!!!!!!), but still pretty awesome. My voice is still dead though.