I'm reading In the Making by Linda Weintraub for homework, homework I procrastinated on (shout out to you WARP students woot woot)
I don't know if I have the words to express how much I hate this book. To give you a little perspective, this book highlights modern "artists;" one artist makes guttural noises to herself to give voice to the two animals that live inside her head, and one procreates "children" with a machine, going through the gestation period and all sorts of existential helter-skelter.
As I read the profile of the latter artist, I mentally screamed, "SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS PERSON. SHE IS SERIOUSLY MESSED UP."
And then, I had to think a while.
Is she really any more messed up than me? Granted, I don't think I've gone as far as to believe that my love life with my computer is as fulfilling as a relationship with a human being, but I've done other things, things that are as unholy.
I have a duality (we use that word a lot in this class) in my mind: on the one hand, I am disgusted with this perversion of art. I am outraged by this abuse of what I believe to be a characteristic of God. Righteous indignation, I guess.
And on the other hand, I wonder if I should catch myself. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." God would not have me believe I am any better than another sinner. Maybe I haven't gone as far, but my sin is just as black. Me sinning differently does not make me any more holy. Holiness is all-or-nothing. Only God is holy.
I haven't exactly felt very close to God as of late, but I guess my subconscious has really been contemplating that David Crowder CD I play in the car for white noise. It's so strange- as I meditate on my unholiness, it makes me want to praise God. Me. Praise God. On a whim.
^That's a big deal, guys. That's a big deal for me.
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses,according to the riches of his grace, 8 which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth."~Ephesians 1:3-10
I don't know if I have the words to express how much I hate this book. To give you a little perspective, this book highlights modern "artists;" one artist makes guttural noises to herself to give voice to the two animals that live inside her head, and one procreates "children" with a machine, going through the gestation period and all sorts of existential helter-skelter.
As I read the profile of the latter artist, I mentally screamed, "SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS PERSON. SHE IS SERIOUSLY MESSED UP."
And then, I had to think a while.
Is she really any more messed up than me? Granted, I don't think I've gone as far as to believe that my love life with my computer is as fulfilling as a relationship with a human being, but I've done other things, things that are as unholy.
I have a duality (we use that word a lot in this class) in my mind: on the one hand, I am disgusted with this perversion of art. I am outraged by this abuse of what I believe to be a characteristic of God. Righteous indignation, I guess.
And on the other hand, I wonder if I should catch myself. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." God would not have me believe I am any better than another sinner. Maybe I haven't gone as far, but my sin is just as black. Me sinning differently does not make me any more holy. Holiness is all-or-nothing. Only God is holy.
I haven't exactly felt very close to God as of late, but I guess my subconscious has really been contemplating that David Crowder CD I play in the car for white noise. It's so strange- as I meditate on my unholiness, it makes me want to praise God. Me. Praise God. On a whim.
^That's a big deal, guys. That's a big deal for me.
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses,according to the riches of his grace, 8 which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth."~Ephesians 1:3-10
Praise the Lord.
