From the chair:
16 The Lord roars from Zion,
and utters his voice from Jerusalem,
and the heavens and the earth quake.
But the Lord is a refuge to his people,
a stronghold to the people of Israel.
As I read and tried to envision this this morning, I was reminded that God’s rescue is inherently tied to his might and that his roaring is inseparable from his refuge. It reminds me of what Mr. Beaver says in C.S. Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe: “Who ever said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” We can find our safety in God, but only because he has the absolute power to be who he wants to be and the everlasting wisdom to day after day after day be who he is.
From the desk:
Over the last several years, I’ve heard a lot of disgust toward postmodernism and seen a lot of hook-line-and-sinker adherence. I think that David Lose offers a good, nuanced critique of both the event of postmodernity and the ideology of postmodernism:
“On the one hand, postmodernism presents itself as a much needed corrective to the modernist penchant of totalization. Through its relentless exposure of the weaknesses of modernist foundationalism, postmodernism nurtures diversity, cultivates dissensus, and privileges free play over imposed order so as to keep modernist schemes of totalization at bay. On the other hand, postmodernism’s antifoundational rejection of speech about truth and its conception of the artificial nature of reality fail to provide the means by which to engage in meaningful cross-cultural critique and risks trivializing the pain and suffering of those it purports to protect.”
Having read a number of postmodernists while also reading and preaching the Bible as transcendent truth, I agree with Lose’s conclusions at the end of the chapter:
“Ultimately, therefore, what we surrender is not truth, but the ability to prove truth; not speech, but the right to have the last word; not faith, but unambiguous certainty; not hope, but a future secured by modernist foundationalism.”
-David Lose, Confessing Jesus Christ, pp.31,62
“The chair” is the one Annie aptly chose for the corner of our living room, and it’s where I am committed to daily hearing from God’s Word–the Word I above all else hope to speak to others. “The desk” is the one by my coffee grounds and spare charger (if I get to the library early enough); it’s where I have the privilege of reading and thinking all day, where I intend to learn for others’ sake.