Piqued

So that’s the conclusion I’ve come to in the last few days.  No, I’m not struggling with depression because of it, and it’s certainly not the first time it’s dawned on me that the human race is fallen and sinful.  And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with Obama’s inauguration (as much as I disagree with him on many issues, I’m cautiously optimistic that he’ll be at least a reasonable president).  It really doesn’t have to do with anything in particular, except a realization that if you dabble too much in worldliness, it gets to you after a while.

I haven’t been doing anything that unusual and none of the things that have contributed to this subtly oppressive feeling is that serious by itself.  But put together, without anything particularly redeeming to balance them, they become a stronger force than you’d think.

It started with the books I read on my recent vacation.  None of them are overtly anti-Christian or immoral, but each of them has a decidedly agnostic/atheistic worldview.  Now, I don’t think it’s bad for Christians to get that perspective every now and then.  I’m a firm believer in the strengthening effect that challenges can have on our faith, and for me, the “reasoned” perspective of atheism is the one I find myself most sympathetic with.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no atheist and don’t think I’m in danger of becoming one.  The more I learn about creation and the more I observe in our world, the more convinced I become that God exists and is involved in our world.  And as I’ve researched the history of the Bible, I’ve only found my confidence in its truthfulness strengthened.  What I’m saying is that if there’s one worldview besides my own that I have some respect for, it’s that of wise, well-intentioned individuals who reject all religions on the basis of personal experience and reasoning.

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My father’s father passed away several years ago of leukemia.  He was a teacher and, like me, enjoyed dabbling in a variety of pursuits.  One of these was poetry, and one of my cousins recently composed a song cycle for piano and baritone featuring the words of a poem he wrote (my cousin, Erin, is a gifted pianist and is studying piano performance and composition in West Chester).  My grandfather’s love of nature and bird-watching is evident in it:

Summer’s near, I know,
when fields are drifted white with
dandelion ’snow.’

High on the cedar,
challenging breeze and sunburst,
a mockingbird sings.

Southland breeze!  O whence
your power?  Twigs burst forth in
peach blooms by my fence.

From each cloud, a tear;
humid breath of sun, half hid;
summer’s heat is here.

Morning clear and bright!
Behind the mountain, a storm is
gathering his might!

Sunlit, sparkly dew,
reflects a million skies of
blue freshness, all new.

Sparkling dew is born,
on every blade and flower,
this September morn.

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I recently took a road trip with my family to California and spent the travel time catching up on some reading.  The first book I read was given to me by my grandmother for Christmas, a choice ostensibly inspired by my recent purchase of a motorcycle.  Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was written in 1974 by Robert M. Pirsig and received widespread acclaim for the novel way in which it presents fresh philosophical ideas.  Here’s my review.

Zen is a rather remarkable book in that it brings together many genres of literature into one fairly lengthy but enjoyable book.  Depending on what part of the book you’re referring you, it could be categorized as a travelogue, psychological drama, presentation of alternatives to traditional forms of higher education, or innovative philosophical theory.

The whole of Zen appears to be a semi-autobiographical account of a motorcycle trip the author takes with his son, Chris, and two friends.  Where they visit is hinted at, but not ultimately important.  The important details are the thoughts the narrator shares during the long stretches of road that separate the group’s various stops and personal interactions.  The heart of the book is contained in these passages, and it is here that the book is interesting, fresh, and at times strange.

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