One of the occupational hazards of being a historian, even an amateur like me, is that you wake up one day to realize that a lot of your best friends are dead people. Also, you sometimes wonder if you would like these people more or less if you could actually be with them for a few days. I suspect that some great characters of the past weren't all that great to be around; some were no doubt better than we realize. I think that for some people, being outwardly successful and being domestically tolerable are competing principles; for others, the two work like synergy.
But back to this business of people I know at a bothersome distance: Some (or most?) of them might intimidate me I think. For example: I get the impression that the philosopher David Hume would probably goof on me, with me standing there, and I wouldn't even realize it until maybe the next day, if ever. Which is not to say I think he was a bad or a mean person. But it's like he has 21 good gears, while I'm stuck with a worn out 3-speed. We would notice the difference, I suspect.
Like a lot of my other dead-n-dear friends, Kierkegaard is one of those people I'm fond of, but could never be like. I mean, he has this passion and seriousness and compulsion and honesty and wit that I'm attracted to (much like Augustine). But there are times when his romantic bent turns into absolute romanticism, and I think I'd have to say, "I hear you, Soren, but I can't go there with you." He'd probably convince me of his way of seeing, until I woke up the next morning at which point I'd get back to seeing like me.
I think that Karl Barth must have been very charming. However, I have to say that most of the time when I read him, I finally sit back, blank look on my face, and say, "Well . . . . Yeah. But how to put into practice (what to do with) what he just said, I haven't a clue." For me, the Barthian upshot never gets fired. Instead, it feels like I just read really good poetry (which is something I never do, but if I did I think I would feel like that). Would I have liked being one of Barth's students? I'm not sure.
What about you? Any folks you know across time whom you'd like to know better? ("Duh! Jesus!" was just taken by me) :-) Any others?
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Our little old kerosene-burning water heater finally died last night. It was replaced today with a big new electric water heater. I just wrote out the check and paid the man. I don't recommend this to anyone. But then, how nice to be able to make a few calls, and in less than 24 hours have hot water again.
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Many years ago, I sat in a church growth class at Harding Graduate School thinking, "It seems that the next generation of Christianity should more-closely approximate New Testament models and images of the church." Yet I kept trudging along in the ruts that had been carved out by my forefathers.
Now it seems like Generation Next is acting on the kinds of things I was thinking then. In some cases, it's not because of a studied rejection of old forms; instead it seems like they could do no other, being who they are. (How's that for an over-generational-ization?)
Anyway, at once I feel proud and hopeful, lost and untrained. It will be interesting to see what unfolds. I will be looking for new ways in which I myself will be called upon to lead or follow. And I'm learning again to not assume that a different future will never arrive.
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