Thoughts from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis: Time

Calvinism.
Pre-destination.
Freewill?

There are many terms and many different view points from those in the Christian life who argue their view of the pre-knowledge of God. What does He really know ahead of time? Does He guide our acts like a master puppeteer, or does He watch and wait? Is God ever surprised? Just HOW in control are we, as mere human beings, made of flesh and muscle and bone, blessed and cursed by the ever present inevitability that we, and we alone, indeed are responsible for what we say, think, act out, don't act out, and imagine? In His Word, God makes it very clear that no, we are not puppets. We are free thinkers. Free doers. Free from strings, free to harm. To hurt. To love. To laugh. To serve. Whether we choose to do any or all of these things is entirely up to us. Does God guide? Yes, I believe He does. His Word also states quite clearly and in simple layman's terms that God has a plan for our individual lives. So what about time? If God has this plan for our lives, does He know what we will do before we do it? Or does He just influence what happens in and around us? Confused yet?

While reading today in the book that is ever becoming my favorite, Mere Christianity, I read the following passage and was struck at the complexity of Mr. Lewis' thoughts. They were hard to swallow. Yet, a second look, and I knew almost instantaneously what he was talking about and his thought process. It's amazing, astounding, and refreshing:

"But God, I believe, does not live in a Time-series at all. His life is not dribbled out moment by moment like ours: with Him it is, so to speak, still 1920 and already 1960. For His life is Himself. If you picture time as a straight line along which we have to travel, then you must picture God as the whole page on which the line is drawn.... Another difficulty we get if we believe God to be in time is this. Everyone who believes in God at all believes that He knows what you and I are going to do tomorrow. But if He knows I am going to do so-and-so, how can I be free to do otherwise? Well, here once again, the difficulty comes from thinking that God is progressing along the Time-line like us: the only difference being that He can see ahead and we cannot. Well, if that were true, if God foresaw our acts, it would be very hard to understand how we could be free not to do them. But suppose God is outside and above the Time-line. In that case, what we call 'tomorrow' is visible to Him in just the same way as what we call 'today'. All the days are 'Now' for Him. He does not remember you doing things yesterday; He simply sees you doing them, because, though you have lost yesterday, He has not. He does not 'foresee' you doing things tomorrow; He simply sees you doing them: because, though tomorrow is not yet there for you, it is for Him. You never supposed that your actions at this moment were any less free because God knows what you are doing. Well, He knows your tomorrow's actions in just the same way-- because He is already in tomorrow and can simply watch you. In a sense, He does not know your action till you have done it: but then the moment at which you have done it is already 'Now' for Him."

Wow. Maybe not the clearest case I can present for saying that I believe in freewill and personal responsibility, with Christ as my Savior and Guide, but I think it will get some wheels turning, as it did mine. Think about it. For yourself.

Psalm 139: 1-4
O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.

"You Don't Date?"

I can’t count how many times I’ve heard this exclaimed throughout my teenage and young adult years. And I suppose to most, it does seem like an odd comeback to their question of either ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ or, the very rare: ‘What are you doing Friday night...?’ I tend to get this blank and somewhat confused look like I have suddenly grown another head or just announced that I’m actually a ruling dictator in Russia. Before I dive in with my explaination, I suppose I should clarify. It’s not that I don’t date, I’m just not looking to date... in the sense of what it’s come to be known as.

Call me old fashioned. Ok, let’s just get it out of the way: “Allison, you’re old fashioned.” I don’t know if it’s the fact that I was brought up in a fairly strict homeschooled environment, or my parents influence and beliefs on the subject, but I believe that when it comes right down to it, I have chosen this way for myself- no other. When I was in my teens, our house rule was no dating. That was just a given, and I was perfectly fine with it. I saw the positives of not going from one heartbreaking relationship to another, and I was too young to get married anyway. So one would assume now that I’m ‘out of the house’ so to speak, I could ditch what my parents were requiring and just date whomever, whenever, right? Not exactly. So why not? I was free, wasn’t I, to make my own choices? 

True. But the funny thing was, when I took a second look at why I did what I did, and the reasons behind it, I found out that my parents were actually on to something. This of course I already knew, but I wanted to verify it for myself anyway. What I realized is that yes, of course I wanted to find that certain someone, my best friend and partner for life, but did I want to have to go through 2, 3, 5- or more, guys and the repeatedly broken hearts that ensued, on the way to get there to that goal? No! Absolutely and emphatically no. I know many people would argue that you don’t know and can’t grow unless you try it out first or have your heart broken a few times along the way. Yes, quite a few will argue that it actually makes it sweeter, when you finally fall in love with the right one, because you’ve been able to find out what you didn’t want and what you weren’t looking for in a spouse along the way. What they fail to mention are the casualties you’ll have left along the roadside of life, casting those aside, trampling over their feelings (and yours)-- all in the pursuit of finding someone through trial and error. The only problem, other than the hurt feelings on both sides, is that in essence you’re trying out boys. They become simply try-out relationships... and then you’ve missed the point entirely. You no longer have marriage in mind, but of having a good time, going out, being flirtatious, and then when you truly get to know the person, casting them aside at the soonest convenient opportunity.

Usually knowing all this doesn’t deter people from dating. Am I afraid to get my heart broken, you ask? No. But for right now, I’ve decided that if I can have any say in it, I want to get to know a guy as a friend first, not having the intention of starting any relationship, until we both know we are fully ready to pursue a relationship with the goal of marriage as a the end result, if that is how the Lord is directing in each of our lives. 

I look forward to that day, if that is what God wants to fulfill in my life. However, until that day, I will continue to answer the question-- because I know the answer is ultimately in my, and my future spouses, best interest.

Like a Fish out of Water: Surviving a College Biology Course

Having been homeschooled K-12, I suddenly came to a rude awakening that I was utterly unprepared to enter college: A sort of cross between what I considered ‘public’ and ‘private’ education. College always seemed to me to be a good place where I’d be able to raise my hand, skip through all the drama of the other students, and be surrounded by older adult people like myself who really wanted to learn. This is why I was utterly unprepared. The fact that I’d just earned my diploma in Dental Assisting via a correspondence course didn’t help the situation any, either. 

As almost any homeschooler can tell you, they had grown up with people who loved them and thought highly of the kind of education they received. There was much less to be said about the woman behind the admissions desk, looking at me like she’d had an awful day already, and it was barely noon. I gulped and accepted the fact that this just was not homeschooling anymore, and I’d have to get through it somehow. 

“I need what?” I asked her with a quizzical look, my stomach dropping.

“A signature on this form from a faculty member to say that you’ve taken Human Anatomy and Physiology in high school, otherwise, you can’t get into this class.” she said without any enthusiasm. Actually, she appeared to be enjoying the fact that I’d have to do something else.

“But I have taken it! Twice!” I exclaimed. Ouch. That didn’t sound as good as I had hoped. Twice to me meant I really learned it well. Twice to them probably meant I had failed it once and had to retake it. To make matters worse, my previous advisor had told me straight to my face that she was retiring and would no longer be my advisor. That was the only faculty member I knew and who knew me that could sign off on this.

“Well, my advisor retired.” I stated, hoping for lenience. 

“No she hasn’t.” the woman said.

“She told me she was going to. She told me I’d have to find someone else.”

The woman was clearly getting irked that I wasn’t accepting what she was saying. “Go up to the Science Department and have her sign this. She’s still working here.”

So, there I was, huffing and puffing up the stairs to the dreaded Science Department, for something that really, if the community college I was attending cared even at all for me, should be doing instead of me. Honestly, it felt like everyone on the staff felt as if all the students were a burden and a nuisance. Never mind the fact that we were the ones paying their salary... But, there was one bright spot: If I could get into this ‘BIO’ (In college speak, this could mean a number of things. For me, Human Anatomy & Physiology) class, I’d be well on my way to earning the last few credits towards being able to enroll in dental hygiene school at yet another community college. Through the next few compounded events, I learned I had to bring in my transcripts, set up an appointment during the day, which would have been impossible with my full-time work schedule, and just generally gravel at their feet to let me in. And, get this, after ALL that, I was in the Science Department one day, trying to get in to see my elusive advisor, when a random faculty member stepped up to the counter and the receptionist pointed out that I needed a signature. He asked why. I told him. He asked if I’d ever done dissecting. I listed off all the animals and organs I’d dissected, and without so much as a blink of the eye, he took up a pen on the counter, scribbled his name, and was out the door.  You could have blown me over with a feather. I barely had time to shout my thanks after him out into the hallway. After all that! What a pain! And here it was, so simple. Talk to a human being, have them sign something, and I was in. I was in! 

Oh dear, I was in. Here I was, sitting in a large amphitheater-like classroom, surrounded by students of all ages, and the professor standing in the front of the class was dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers (my mother always wore a jumper). He was lecturing us all on how hard the class was going to be, and that we probably wouldn’t make it. It was truly inspiring. He even brought up a few of last year’s students to terrorize us a bit with their 500-page bound notebook pages, filled with lecture notes, and tabbed for reference. I sank a little lower in my chair, not so giddy anymore about my suddenly seemingly insignificant amount of knowledge regarding what digit the thumb was, or how the blood was pumped through the aorta. Never mind my new and exciting folders, highlighter, or colored pencils, bought especially for this occasion. I was in for one major awakening. 

And really, public college is truly that: An awakening. Coming from a homeschooled background, I couldn’t ask the professor to slow down if I hadn’t caught something. You couldn’t get something from the kitchen for practical imagery or experimentation. And you certainly couldn’t shush the annoying students, because none of them were your siblings. The sad fact was, practically half of my fellow students didn’t know how to spell correctly. They partied the night before class, waving away the thought of homework with a shrug. Parties were obviously so much more important when you were 18, 21, or even 40. There was cheating, whispering, swearing, crude remarks, and a guy who wore a kilt the majority of the time. I still never found out the reason, as he’d sometimes show up in jeans, too. 

Thankfully, despite his extremely relaxed appearance and addiction to mountaineering, my professor knew more about human anatomy and physiology than most doctors are supposed to know, or probably do. To my dismay, everyone in the class but me called him Larry. He was a fascinating teacher, and even though he had his days (or sometimes, entire weeks), I marveled at his extensive knowledge and willingness to explain even the minute details of how a vein or your inner ear worked, simply because you had asked. I’ve never learned so much on one subject in all my life, and certainly came away with a renewed appreciation for how the human body works and how everything is dependent on something else working correctly.

Unfortunately, in college, you cannot pass just by simply loving the material and finding it interesting. This, too, is something I found differed from homeschooling. My mother never really gave me and my sisters any grades. We simply got it right, or had to do it again. You can imagine my surprise when I got to college. You cannot hand in your test, get a bad grade, and then sit right back down and go over it again after reading through the material again. They don’t do that. It’s a one shot chance. You either make it, or you don’t. This was a little unnerving, as I was required to get a certain grade in order to be able to apply to the program I wanted to get into. I suddenly found out why more college students these days have high blood pressure, stress related illness, and even depression. There were many days where I wondered why I was even in the class, and my blood pressure shot through the roof for a few months. After one particularly stressful exam, I remember joking with my fellow lab partners that I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of the past students hadn’t tried committing suicide. They laughed. I was semi-serious. 

Suffice it to say, I obviously survived Human Anatomy & Physiology, and this is without even mentioning the cadaver, the smell of formaldehyde, and my poor parents who had to listen to me several times a week on the phone, crying. Overall, of course, as I look back, I view it as a much easier class than I remember. I made some great friends, learned a tremendous amount of information in a short amount of time, and took away life lessons that I’ll never forget. But best of all: I passed. Not with flying colors, not with all A’s, but I came away feeling accomplished and thankful that I’d stuck with it. Yes, I felt out of place, being only the second previously homeschooled student in the entire class. Yes, it was a rude awakening to public school admission counselors and their seemingly disinterest in my education. And sure, I learned a few things I wish I could forget, from my lovely carousing fellow students, but as I handed in that last exam sheet and walked out into the parking lot, feeling free, I also felt content and satisfied. I had conquered a system that ran on a completely different level than what I’d known existed and had even feared just a little, but very much enjoyed the trip down the highway of college education along the way and I look forward to continuing down that road.