Friday, March 20, 2009

Thomas Merton says, "Las Vegas sucks"

There is someone at my work who is a daoist of sorts. He is into all kinds of monkish things and we got into a conversation about Thomas Merton, who was a Catholic trappist monk in the 1950's and 60's. My daoist friend let me borrow a very small book called "Thoughts in Solitude" by Merton. I was really intrigued by his commentary on how modern man has changed the desert with his Las Vegas's and nuclear weapons tests:

"The desert was created simply to be itself, not to be transformed by men into something else...the desert is therefore the logical dwelling place for the man who seeks to be nothing but himself - that is to say, a creature solitary and poor and dependent upon no one but God, with no great project standing between himself and his Creator...

Yet look at the deserts today. What are they? The birthplace of a new and terrible creation, the testing-ground of the power by which man seeks to un-create what God has blessed. Today, in the century of man's greatest technological achievement, the wilderness at last comes into its own. Man no longer needs God, and he can live in the desert on his own resources. He can build there his fantastic protected cities of withdrawal and experience mentation and vice...they are brilliant and sordid smiles of the devil upon the face of the wilderness, cities of secrecy where each man spies on his brother, cities through whose veins money runs like artificial blood, and from whose womb will come the last and greatest instrument of destruction.

Can we watch the growth of these cities and not do something to purify our own hearts? When man and his money and his machines move out into the desert, and dwell there, not fighting the devil as Christ did, but believing in his promises of power and wealth, and adoring his angelic wisdom, then the desert itself moves everywhere. Everywhere is desert. Everywhere is solitude in which man must do penance and fight the adversary and purify his own heart in the grace of God."

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Some CS Lewis quotes

As you may or may not know, I did my senior project on CS Lewis' conversion. Except for rereading a couple books of his, I haven't read too much Lewis since then. My girlfriend Marijke recently gave me his God in the Dock, which I think is the only theological work of his I haven't read. It's a collection of essays, articles, and lectures and I thought I'd post some quotes I read tonight. They are from a question and answer session he participated in:

"Which of the religions of the world gives to its followers the greatest happiness? While it lasts, the religion of worshiping oneself is the best...As you perhaps know, I haven't always been a Christian. I didn't go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don't recommend Christianity..."

On disunity in the Church:

"So it seems to me that the 'extremist' elements in every Church are nearest one another and the liberal and 'broad-minded' people in each Body could never be united at all. The world of dogmatic Christianity is a place in which thousands of people of quite different types keep on saying the same thing, and the world of 'broad-mindedness' and watered-down 'religion' is a world where a small number of people (all of the same type) say totally different things and change their minds every few minutes. We shall never get re-union from them."

On going to church:

"When I first became a Christian, about fourteen years ago, I thought that I could do it on my own, by retiring to my rooms and reading theology, and I wouldn’t go to the churches and Gospel Halls; . . . I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered to be fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth-rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic-side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren’t fit to clean those boots. It gets you out of your solitary conceit..."

Thursday, March 12, 2009

On an interesting name for a bakery company

I was in El Salvador last week visiting my very lovely girlfriend Marijke. It was a great week, filled with cooking, walking, and warding off Lord Voldemort (Senor Voldemuerte). We went and saw He's Just Not That into You, which is probably the most incredible movie of all time. As we left the movie theater and walked past the shotgun-toting guards, I turned to Marijke and said, "You know, I am really into you" just to make sure she didn't let the title of the movie get to her. We also went to the beach and I tried to hide my gnawing fear of sting rays behind a facade of testosterone and bulging biceps.

But let's just be honest: I was freaked out and as soon as I felt a fish hit my leg, I thought, "I'm out of here." I stuck to the shore for the rest of the day. Don't worry; Marijke still likes me.

Anyways, throughout the week I ate some grain/fruit bars and on my last day there, I noticed the name of the company that made them: Bimbo. Seeing this odd and humorous name for a bakery struck a hauntingly familiar chord in my soul, for it made me think of something that happened to me in childhood.

I must have been about 7 or 8 at the time and we were driving on the freeway through the former sugar-beet capital of the world: Oxnard, CA (If you know me very well, you know that I am not a very big fan of Oxnard, but it's where I was born, so I can't be too much of a hater). Anyways, I looked out the window and I saw a windowless panel van passing by. I thought, "That's interesting. Why wouldn't a van have windows on it?" I noticed the name plastered on the side of it: BIMBO BREADS. My deepest childhood suspcions were confirmed: With no windows and such a ridiculous and obviously-fake name for a company, this was CERTAINLY a CIA spy van. In my great 7-year old wisdom and experience, I was convinced that I was seeing my first real-life spy van. Ever since then, I have been slightly wary of windowless vans.

But now I can let down my guard if I ever see another Bimbo Breads van, since I now know that it's a real company that sells real goods that I really ate last week.

As a sidenote, here's something interesting I saw this morning: A young pregnant woman with a very large afro walking down the street with a baby on her hip. I thought, "That's interesting - I've never seen someone with a large afro who is both pregnant AND carrying a small child. I don't think I'll ever see this again." I paid careful attention because I knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. One day, I'll be telling my grandchildren about it.