I like reminders. Its likely that I’m a fan of these notes because I’m not actually good enough to prioritize things in a way that I should (by Engaging in Elohiming), nor am I smart enough to remember everything that I prioritize correctly (some humility, which may serve as a temporary inoculation against Philosophy Graduate Student Disease). Because of these reasons, my room is full of reminders.
My room should be a place where I can remember what is important, which is why I have little messages like these ones along the walls of the room:
This is something that I wrote after writing the post, “Can We Get a Napkin – 2 Responses to A Spontaneous Encounter with the Divine.” I’m glad that I took a second look at this message through a lens this morning because I have felt some anxiety about death again lately.
How is it that others are able to be so sure of life after death? After all, as Socrates noted, no one actually knows what will happen. I have a friend who is particularly faithful, and has asked on occasion, when I question everything, “Don’t you trust God?” This question always punches me in the face.
Also, I realized a couple weeks ago that my Christology doesn’t really make sense if there isn’t an afterlife. This problem of incoherency, oddly, hasn’t bothered me that much. I think its because I’ve become so used to living in a mess. Its very different from how I thought 4 years ago about matters of the faith. Everything had to make sense back then. My freshman I was only beginning to realize that
I just realized that these “reminders” contain more than just messages about what I think is important. They are a history of how I’ve grown and changed over the past four years. As with Jeremiah’s audience in this passage, God really has been quite busy with me. Thank You.
In the spirit of thankfulness, there’s one more picture/reminder that I want to place here. God, it turns out, is pretty good at speaking our language (which is not surprising considering that Jesus (a part of God?) had a habit of “entering the symbolic world” of those whom he spoke to). On one particular occasion, I found myself becoming epistemologically anxious. I was reading a book by Karen Armstrong, History of God, and I was quite surprised by some of the things I find there about the biblical stories. It shook my faith a bit. But since God speaks my language, God spoke to me in a question