In the first part of this apprehension of TULIP we heard an unbelievable crash-and-burn tale about a lawyer who discovered the secrets of fate which would permit a stampede into heaven such as has never before been seen. We heard how the yarmulke-bulbed TULIP hat-wearers sprouted mightily into heaven. They entered through the chambers of the throne room of heaven, causing a great curiosity and awkward silence, like that which is common in western movies when some cocksure new cowboy enters a town. They didn't think about what their place in that throne room might be. They had a Kramer-like entrance, slamming the door to that heavenly taproom disregardingly wide and clipping the wings of a few neighborly cherubim who happened to be standing in that wake-not exactly how things are usually done round them parts.
Naturally, these yarmulke wearing TULIP heads had an imbalanced swagger caused by the weight of their heavy bulbed kopfs. This gave them quite the gaping step, which they did not fail to exercise when they elected to thoroughly stumble through that place, causing no small fuss. They marched so greatly, in fact, and with perseverance upon perseverance, that they did something quite unanticipated by those observing: the TULIPs passed the throne of the Almighty! Eventually they persevered so far that they fell off the face of heaven seemingly back down to the realm of earth for us where it is now, to the great relief of the heavenly township, for us to deal with. Whether we should choose to deal with anything about it or not is for us to decide. It is normally the case that the wise thing to do in the situation of a runaway train is to stand aside, but I don't feel that will do. Like the kids in J.J. Abram's movie, Super 8, I think it might be for the best if we allow our curiosity a bit of walking room here. If we're not willing to consider it in a way in which we have not before, if we remain adamant to maintain fixed notions and feelings about it, and if we allow no place for scrutinous inquiries, it would be difficult to say that we could have honored the fuss of it all.
There is a fuss over TULIP. Wherever it came from, whatever it can do, and whatever it is here for, it is my intention to apprehend a few things about it, to see how it holds under the scrutiny of this particular pirate perspective, called by some, the perspective of me or mine. It is really the perspective of me and not the perspective of mine, because if it were mine than it would be for me to possess this perspective for myself, alone, and away from others, if I should choose; but I am glad that it is merely the perspective of me, and not the perspective of mine, for I can take myself more lightly, as I prefer. For I adamantly despise the possibility that our existence could now be refined to a mere game of self-posession and facebook existences. It seems our digital-age commonwealth increasingly values vanities by clicks of "likes", which we are all too concerned to vie over and compare ourselves by ourselves with. If there could be a pirate's chance of enrichment in these writings here, tending toward some true or good thing, than God forbid that it would but be for all, and tend not toward a vain self-obsession or self-servingness to be called mine. I just want to see the feet of people hitting the ground again, and I want to see them enjoy things together for once, without someone feeling trespassed against. I think I'd rather die than commit my life to convincing people that they should be groveling at my poor way of saying things.
I'm talking about our culture and its effect on us. There is an increasingly gloomy reality nowadays in which things are said and done in our individualistic, capitalist society for the sake of ourselves, for the extension of our own sense of ownership over things and people, and for a sense of the furtherance of our own preeminence. We possess an unfriendly, competitive self-obssession, which seeks to prove our own importance by highlighting it over others. Evidence of this is seen by the fact that we have a common phrase now, "you just got owned", which is being used by the culture at large, and perhaps even more telling of the kind of society we live in now is the more computerized version of the word: "pwned", which is used in online gaming culture but coming soon to a home near you!
What happened to our culture? Well, this crazed obsession with personal ownership really all started when the Puritans fell in love with the way Calvin said things. They thought it would be good to prove that they were "elect" and destined for salvation, by a combination of their work ethic and colorless insistency on thrift. They chose not to spend money on any goods that could be construed as "luxury", and so all of their money ended up sitting in barns. One day they saw fit that it should not just remain sitting in barns, but instead should be used to be buying more barns! They thought the money should be committed to the obtainment of capital investments for capital investment's sake. The Puritans stopped spending and started "pwning" things. All of this is detailed in Max Weber's work, "The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism". Now since people can sometimes hear what I'm not saying let me clarify: it is my belief that ownership is a God-ordained and good thing; however, an obsession over ownership and an obsession over one's self as it relates to owning -these are things usually called avarice and pride.
That is the common danger and temptation for us in our "pwning" society, and it bleeds into how we think about religion. An over-concern with owning ideas makes us really ambitious with ideas and beliefs like TULIP. That's what this is about really. We fight to have excessive control and undue credit as though our understandings, how we say things, etc., gives us the right to reign over religious ideas like gods, but really we don't have godship over ideas, we have stewardship.
Calvinism is somewhat of a shame because it enslaves mankind to the false pretense that a few systematized corporate elite called the "elect" have godship over ideas, and it has somehow become their impression that it is their manifest destiny to apprehend everyone to the same narrow, thirsty deserts where Calvin's oil (his own personal, dry, cold, and unlovely way of garbling out unfathomable ideas about things like fate) can drip onto their heads like a special spiritual anointment, an anointment which is much more pleasing to the Lord than all other spiritual anointments, an efficient, industrial presentation of God sometimes called "systematic theology". It is the hope of the Calvinists that their sheik, Calvin, has already secured the development of them by the way he has said things to the masses, all Calvinists in the world, on their helpless third-world cliffs and countrysides of their fallenness. They trust his words as those of a great industrial statesman and not as those of a robber baron. They believe Calvin's american oil deal is going to actually end up helping local situations in the community of their heart and soul much more than any other way or process people could have done things in faith, like for instance, if they did some things like expressing their beliefs for themselves. That was one of the ideas originally, wasn't it? Wasn't it supposed to be a free religious world now, where people could read the Bible for themselves? But somehow it turned into a corporate battle for the "pwnership" and control of ideas between two giants: the papal state vs. geneva. Hey, go ahead and believe that a full commitment to his oil plan will help you much more than it takes from you if you would like. It's still your choice. But it's somewhat sad to consider all that is lost by selling out to Calvin by becoming a shareholder solely in the intellectual property of his words and stock. If one chooses this way at least be prepared to be disappointed, for letting Calvin own in the religious realm and forgetting that he's a man, which simply cannot own in that realm, one will do themselves no favors but set themselves up for disappointment.
All good business deals happen over the dinner table. Calvin wasn't exactly friendly to acknowledge the good in other views not his own, which to me, is a sort of stubbornness or arrogance that ought to flag some suspicion. He seems too self-assured and polemical of other views that I think it would have been quite awkward to have a drink with him privately or in a group out to eat, because he just couldn't have laid it to rest until his simple story or perspective was praised above all others at the table. While an average, common man would look across the table searching for another set of common eyes, to get some nonverbal consent, saying to each other that they both recognize how out of place this man's confidence is, and how awkward his own appreciation for his own way of saying things is. They would quickly know, for they have seen this kind of thing before, where a person misjudges a distance on a jump really out of reach, or a miner digs too deep and things begin to cave in on himself, etc., they know how really limited and unfantastical a man's understanding of fate can be. Calvin's radiant speech would seem to them flatter than a day old dark beer, a bit gloomy perhaps, and quite void of that hoppiness and bloominess you'd expect in someone talking of summer shandy's and budding flowers.
We're talking about a flower-ish theological acronym here which is sometimes apprehended (understood) to be Calvin's. It is a sort of impression going around today which is ferverously head-long, and so it has, not surprisingly, become darn near feverish, I'm afraid. I set out on this writing intending to make entirely different points about it, but I think these points suffice. My ambition is not to "pwn" it here. It is quite the opposite point: Calvin, or any man, does not have ownership over religious ideas and things like fate. He did not enter hell and wrestle the keys from the devil so that we could have a proper doctrine of fate, who was so menacingly keeping a correct notion of fate from us. Quite the opposite could be guessed to be the case. For their is no reason to suspect that a thing taken out of the devil's hands could end up causing such a confusing mess and derision. There's really no reason to be obsessed with the way that the lawyer says things, anymore than you would the butcher, the clerk, or the postman - who all know a thing or two as well. I guess it shouldn't be surprising though if a lawyer could write something in such an enthralling way that it begins to appear that he has ownership over it. Isn't that their job?
"Everybody has something to bring to the party," that's what a friend of mine said to me recently at a coffee shop when I was right in the middle of putting myself down. I had tried to say that I am a naturally quiet and a slow-speaker apart from my caffeine intake, but she cut me off. I'm glad she did. In a sense, she reminded me by her rebuke that I do not have value for "being the party". That is an insanely ambitious expectation for what I could as an individual say or bring. For merely being a part of the party with the little that I do, the odd comment here and there-that is my value. In the same way, Calvin, the lawyer, provides us a way of possibly thinking about God in part, but to highlight him or his sayings as the "party" is to take away from the partyness of parties. Every great party is the rallying of an appreciation of the diversity of all of its parts. All great parties beautifully display their people as special parts, wonderfully made creatures, images, shadows of the likeness of God. The extensiveness and wonderfulness of God was demonstrated to us only fully in Christ, and now we are proscribed to feast in recognition of this, a great banquet calling all kinds of people far and wide, not to eat of the bread of the flower that Calvin will give us, but to eat of Christ's body and blood.
