A great article, and review, of what looks to be a good read. I especially liked this quote:
Colvin's argument calls to mind the apocryphal story about an encounter in Manhattan between a tourist and famous jazz trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie. The tourist, the story goes, asked Gillespie how to get to Carnegie Hall, and Diz responded, "Practice, man, practice."
"I ought to talk to myself in the third person more often," I said out loud to myself.
Self-talk is can be taken as a sign of mental imbalance. Like the man I saw last week walking down a city street, disheveled, talking loudly to himself. You've seen people like that before, right?
But let's face it: in all of us, there is a constant conversation going on inside our heads. That's one of the proofs philosophers point to as evidence for the immaterial world, for the soul. No one can hang onto the notion that the things we "hear" inside our heads are merely neurons firing off in semi-ordered, semi-random ways. No: men have souls.
When Christians talk about being "made in the image of God," this is part of what they mean. God, as a Tri-Personal Being (God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit), has perfect communication--communion, even--within Himself.
I read recently about Herschel Walker's 'dissociative identity disorder' which is the name now given to persons having a multiple personality diagnosis. I'd like to read his book.
A film I like a lot--Fight Club (Brad Pitt, Edward Norton), based on the book by Chuck Palahniuk (see my review here)-- explores the dimensions of sane, and insane, self talk. And soap. (How could I forget the soap?)
The Kingdom of God is among you," Jesus said. This means that Heaven has invaded earth, and is now controlling the media, so to speak. Our self talk is intended to be guided by God's grace as we rehearse God's promises to ourselves.
As we do, we are to remind ourselves of the character of a loving Father who, in perfect tria-logue with himself, agreed with the Son and the Spirit to give Himself to Death that we might have Life.
As I've continued to grow in my spiritual understanding, I've discovered--or rediscovered--the importance of, and the power of--prayer. Here are some things that I've learned.
The Christian tradition teaches that prayer is a means by which God has determined to accomplish His will. But, there is great mystery here: an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-determining God has not only commanded human beings to pray, but has promised to act in response to prayer.
Rather than foray into this philosophical territory, however, most folks simply pray. This is probably as it ought to be. Not many of us are called to be philosophers.
St. Paul, no mean philosopher himself, was content in most cases to stand on this simple ground: "pray and wait for God to act." In many of his letters (which make up the bulk of the New Testament sacred texts) he asks for prayer.
In one famous example, which concludes his letter to the believers in ancient Greek city of Ephesus, he writes:
Paul says, "Pray for me." And what does he ask for? Interestingly, never known for his timidity, Paul asks for boldness. For courage. What does this teach us?
First, this teaches me that Gospel boldness is a gift from God. But that's not all. Notice that Paul asks that "words may be given to me." This echoes Jesus' promise in Matthew where he encourages His disciples that they will have the necessary thing to say, and that they shouldn't worry when they are hauled into court for their faith.
Words are gifts. So are ears and eyes. I also read earlier this week in Proverbs that the "hearing ear and the seeing eye, the LORD has made them both" (Prov. 20:12).
Here then is the mystery, in short: God knows and commands all things. He has determined to act in response to our prayers. And thus when He provides for our needs, in this case, both speaking and hearing, He is shown to be the "giver of every good and perfect gift."
What an amazing God!
As you pray, pray
for my hearers (those who listen) and see-ers (those who read and see
my materials) will be given eyes to see God's good work!
I've noticed on editorial pages, in radio and TV interviews, and even in presidential politics, a significant moral reflex in response to the "current economic crisis." People want to blame someone. I think there are people to blame. Some of them are wealthy people, risk-takers, and people who know what they were allowed to do, but not what they ought to have done.
But, in response to the cry, "You're saving Wall Street, but what about Main Street?" I say if a face on a poster is what people are looking for, what about putting my face or your face in it?
I'm a fan of non-partisan politics, which is to say I believe that both parties are often wrong. In that vein, I heard several years ago that we shouldn't complain about the president we have, because that president is a reflection of the people. It doesn't matter that "I didn't vote for so and so." Ancient Christian tradition teaches that it is God who puts rulers in power--and He has His reasons.
In the same vein, the current crisis on Wall Street (so-to-speak) is my crisis. It is your crisis. We own it. We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us (or "we" if you are grammatically inclined).
As proof positive of this line of thinking, note how this essay cites the depth of the moral decay in the fiscal habits of "Joe Six Pack"--
The average American household is now buried under mortgage debt of $84,911, car and tuition loans of $14,414, home equity loans of $10,062 and credit card debt of $8,565—in sum, outstanding debt totaling $117,952. According to other Federal Reserve statistics, average household savings this year are a mere $392. The spiraling collapse of the housing market, the mortgage market and now the broader credit market was triggered by a cavalier attitude to thrift [and] a preoccupation with short-term gain at the expense of long-term...
There are corporate, "Wall-Street-Excesses" that must be remedied. But Jesus taught that the plank in my eye comes first.
A recent article in the Atlantic (July/August 2008) profiled the take-over of the Wall Street Journal by Rupert Murdoch earlier this year.
As a one-time subscriber to the WSJ, I found Mark Bowden's observations true to reality, namely: the Wall Street Journal has for years had "quirky, brilliantly reported, master-class feature writing" headline stories. On the other hand, it has eschewed the scoop, leaving that to other papers--like the New York Times.
Bowden writes, "Breaking news, no matter how shocking, was relegated to a brisk summary in two regular columns. This was a serious newspaper for serious readers...favored by men and women too busy making money to worry about the more sensational stories of the day."
For at least ten years I've believed that news was a product, a racket, a business--and that making news was an apt descriptor of most reporting: they "make" the news. This explains why I and others I know have from time to time "taken a break" from the daily news rat-race.
After prolonged exposure to the incessant scooping every day's events, I simply find myself exhausted from "keeping up." Somehow, such sensationalism violates a fundamental rhythm of life.
At one point many years ago I opined to a family member that I would prefer to read about the news in summary book at the end of the year. I wasn't serious, but my complaint was real.
This reminds me of a similar problem with email: a false sense of urgency is created by the medium itself, one in which an instant reply seems of utmost importance. But, how many times have you been out of email access for one reason or another, only to come back to the In Box to discover a dozen "urgent " emails that, one way or another, seemed to have found a way to be resolved.
Matthew Henry, a great American puritan pastor of the 17th century, once wrote, in effect, that reading the papers is a great way to see what God is doing in the world. And if read in that perspective, we can take some comfort at the end of a day of "bad news"--God is in charge; He is still in control. By God's grace, the sun will rise tomorrow again.
Now that Murdoch has scooped the Journal, albeit maintaining some of the traditional and historic flourishes, such as the first page a-hed, someone else will have to fill that "seriousness gap" with writing that, compared to the scoop, dares to pander, not to the urgent, but to the important.
