Bench Press

Don't ask about the pizza oven

We love our little Parliament House. It's just nice for us, even if it is a little bigger than we really need for just two we fill it up with visitors and art projects often enough. In the last few years we've made it our own in lots of little ways, mostly involving piling our junk up in every nook any cranny of the place. But since we've been here, it's become very apparent that more than anything else, what we're missing here is kitchen bench space. For more than a year, we kept a little dinner table in the kitchen, a very permanent temporary solution to the problem.

Last Christmas, my parents were kind enough to offer us the gift of a new kitchen bench, since we'd been talking to them about how we'd probably like to one day get around to adding an island bench to replace our temporary table. Problem solved.

Except, of course, that would require us to decide what we actually want and go out and get it. Getting things done is not exactly our best skill. It's like all our decision making ability was sapped by that decision to buy the place or something. So for the last...8 months, as far as we've got along this path of improvement is to replace our nice sturdy kitchen table with this monstrosity.

This is our coffee table stacked high with whatever books and boxes we could find at the time that happened to be approximately the right size, topped by a piece of fibreboard. This has been useful for working out what size of bench we want and for providing a conversation piece whenever bemused friends come visiting, but in it's turn it has also become moderately permanent. Permanent enough that there's a look of fear every time I ask someone to help cut the veggies for dinner, and permanent enough that on multiple occasions I've had to change the books holding it up as I needed some of the ones that were inaccessible, but not permanent enough, for example, for Mrs. Owl to bump into it in the middle of the night and not smash every piece of crockery and glassware placed on it.

So, time for a change.

We've decided we want to match it as closely to our current kitchen as we can, even though our bench tops are this strange kind of surface that always looks dirty, even when it's clean, a rare occurrence in our house. We also need at least one more drawer, since we need somewhere to put our knives, and we need some storage space for large items like our electric saucepan. We know what we want, where we want it, and what it should look like...and we've got someone else to pay. We suddenly realised that that's all the constituent parts, roll on making an actual grown-up decision for once.

The call is made, the kitchen is coming... So's christmas.

In that photo you can also see part of my project for the rest of the afternoon, someone has to do the dishes, after all.

It's Getting Heretical in Here

What follows is my response to this, in keeping with my now long-established tradition of stealing his ideas and reusing them for my own gain. This week's number shows Pope Gregory the Great (who we met last week) slightly earlier in his life before he became pope, laying down the liturgical law for St. Eutychius.

Now Eutychius was, by this point, one of the most prominent members of the Eastern Church; he'd led what would later come to be considered as the Fifth Ecumenical Council, and was Patriarch of Constantinople, an important enough man to mess with the Emperor and escape with his head. However, Eutychius did not subscribe to the doctrine of bodily resurrection, believing instead that the soul after resurrection would become "less than air", which caused him some problems with Gregory, whom as we have already discovered took all this religion stuff pretty seriously.

Now bodily resurrection, unfortunate similarities to zombieism and all, is a central tenet of the church, mentioned regularly in the earliest surviving Christian writings, like those of St. Ignatius of Antioch, writing at the turn of the first century AD (and in whose work we see the first mention of the words 'catholic church', incidentally). The reason that it was mentioned so often in these texts is that it was the bone of contention for so many of the early heresies, and the surviving writings of the period are mostly epistles from the church fathers to leaders, expounding the understanding of the church and written directly in opposition to heresy. Many views on the nature of the resurrection arose, some of which would reappear again and again in the history of the early church, so much so that bodily resurrection became a part of the Apostles Creed, the statement of faith that churches around the world still use today. As such, I've been familiar with the words for a long time, but bodily resurrection for the masses really gets to me, and one of the reasons that I put off my confirmation for so long was that I, like Eutychius, have some problems with it.

The concept of universal bodily resurrection is based primarily on the biblical resurrection of Jesus, who the gospels tell us physically rose, such that his feet could be touched from a venerating prostrate position, he could break bread and eat with the disciples, and even have his physical wounds poked and prodded by my ever-doubtful namesake (with whom I have always felt a strange kinship). Resurrection was taught by the Jews, many of the prophets talked about the dead rising from the Earth, Jesus supports this himself, and early church leaders like Ignatius and Paul held this to mean actual physical bodily resurrection like that demonstrated by Jesus, but that interpretation just doesn't sit nicely for me (I'm a fan of metaphor and Jesus seems to have been as well, what with all the parables). The primary gospel support for the position that there are actual physical bodies in heaven comes from Matthew 22 (and its equivalents in Mark and Luke), when Jesus is arguing with the Sadduccees, in which he states that risen humans will be like the angels. Now as far as my memory serves me, there is no mention in the bible of an angel physically interacting with the material world, they appear to be purely spiritual beings, as fearsome as they may be (correct me if I'm wrong, out there, the comments thread is open).

EDIT: I've never pretended to a good biblical knowledge. A reader has reminded me of the angels that ate with Lot and destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. Enquiries are ongoing.

Thus, I'm with Eutychius, not Gregory, in thinking that a non-physical resurrection seems more in keeping with the teachings of Jesus that a physical one. Which at least means it'll all be a little less confusing since we won't have to go around sorting out all the bits and pieces which have decayed, or cremated, or scattered, and a non-physical existence is still "life", if Doctor Who has taught me anything. In the sixth century I may have been a heretic, but the advice I was given when I brought this up as a reason for my unconfirmed status could be approximated as "well, if that's all that's stopping you...". To my mind, the nature of resurrection is an unknowable mystery. I'm ok with that, and don't need to worry about whether I'll be buried with my feet to the East or feel bad about donating my organs to science or medicine, because I don't think that having my body in one piece is required for redemption.

Either way, Gregory knew where he stood (or sat, anyway, because of the gout), and he sure was convincing in his argument, as he managed to convince the Emperor to gather together and destroy all the works of Eutychius; who is reputed to have recanted of his heretical beliefs on his deathbed with the quote from the ever-poetic Job "I confess that in this flesh we shall rise again" , which at least allowed his disciples a chance to save face and assured him a place in the echelon of recognised saints.

And leaves me in a bit of a pickle without a Church father to trot out in support of my little heresy. Poop. Then again, being protestant I'm part of a great big heresy anyway, so what's one more?

Get a Job (Nananananananana)

I promised some Canadian chick that the next time I sat myself down to do a devotion I'd post it for her delectation, if delecatation is a word that can be applied to devotions. To be perfectly honest I'm a little bit uncomfortable about being so openly religious on this here blog, given that I'm not normally much of a bible-basher and in public I tend to enjoy laughing at aspects of my religion rather than defending it, but I'm going to give it a try anyway, since it's at least as much a part of me as wearing silly ties.

If me getting all Christian on your ass is disturbing, feel free to leave now and come back tomorrow, when I'll be talking about Japanese girls in short skirts. If you need something else to read right now, here's something a friend of mine recommended to the other day, which is kind of cute (it's a pity that the cute is ruined by the last two panels a little bit, but at least it's better than much of the rest of the archive, which is distinctly nsfw).

Anyway, my random flipping through the bible (I seem chronically unable to keep to any kind of reading plan or schedule) landed me in the Book of Job, in which Job despairs at the unfairness of his life and the cruelty of God; about the most cheery place a guy can end up when he's feeling down, except perhaps Lamentations or Jeremiah. The good thing about Job is that it's full of beautiful flowing poetic language like this little excerpt from 10:10-12:

Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese,
clothe me with skin and flesh and knit me together with bones and sinews?
You gave me life and showed me kindness, and in your providence watched over my spirit.

It's very, very readable, and before long I found myself swept away in the language and the drama and distracted from the purpose of the reading, which is to gain something of an understanding of God as he applies to my life. Too often with bible readings, I have either this problem, or the problem of feeling like I know it all already, like I'm not learning anything new despite other people sharing their experiences and insights. Job has the same problem in 12:2-3, but he's much snarkier and ruder than I am, and responds to his friends thus:

Doubtless you are the people, and wisdom will die with you!
But I have a mind as well as you; I am not inferior to you.
Who does not know all of these things?

The difference between Job and me is that it's right down there in the text that Job is a godly man, and Job does actually understand all the arguments that his friends are making in defence of God, whereas I just think I do. The fact remains, though, that too often I feel like I'm being taught something or am trying to teach myself something that I already know; and my university experience lets me know that nothing is as fun the second time around, be it Mathematics 1A or Theology 101.

However, since I know it's what I'm meant to do and somewhere deep down I really do think that it's good for me (probably more so than finishing up Pokemon Tower), I settled down and gave it a go, and blow me down if I didn't find something worth mentioning to a Canadian chick (and apparently the internet at large). At least, it seems to me where I'm at at quarter past twelve at night like it's worth saying (I'm writing this Sunday night for posting on Monday), I'm not saying anything new, to me or to anyone else, but right now it's encouraging. Hopefully the religious types amongst you might find it kind of interesting, and the irreligious ones might find it interesting from a scientific viewpoint, or something, and all of your will get some kind of idea of where I'm at just at this second, which is a nice little point of fellowship, I suppose. The text in question is Job 5:17-27:

Blessed is the man whom God corrects;
so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.
For he wounds, but he also binds up;
he injures, but his hands also heal.
From six calamities he will rescue you;
in seven no harm will befall you.
In famine he will ransom you from death,
and in battle from the stroke of the sword.
You will be protected from the lash of the tongue,
and need not fear when destruction comes.
You will laugh at destruction and famine,
and need not fear the beasts of the earth.
For you will have a covenant with the stones of the field,
and the wild animals will be at peace with you.
You will know that your tent is secure;
you will take stock of your property and find nothing missing.
You will know that your children will be many,
and your descendants like the grass of the earth.
You will come to the grave in full vigour,
like sheaves gathered in season.
We have examined this and it is true.
So hear it and apply it to yourself.

That's some good advice there, thanks Eliphaz the Temanite! Contained here is the centre of apology, that God breaks down so that he can build, that the good of his actions in the world is greater than the evil, that he is at work for the ultimate blessing of his people; and we're called to submit to his discipline with joy. Now any concordance or preacher will tell you that Eliphaz and Job's other friends are off base because their advice is all based on the assuption that Job is a sinner when in fact Job is the apple of god's eye. In sermons time after time, I hear that we're supposed to hear the words of Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar and Elihu, but disregard them because Job has a better understanding of the Almighty.

With the way I've been feeling at the moment, though, my repeated refusal to acknowledge my own errors, the powerlessness to change the weaknesses that I do notice, it seems to me that Eliphaz is on the money (Often when I read Job I feel this way, that the theological statements of the 'wrong' friends are more useful than God's tirade of rhetorical questions come the end of the book). Instead of despairing that I am lost and confused, I should be watching out for my every mistake and actively trying to atone and correct for them, in my relationships, in my working life, and in all the other places too. This isn't anything groundbreaking, but at this moment I feel like it's a reminder that I needed, expressed in a way that I can get behind. Best of all, there is a promise that if I can reconcile myself to God's teaching in these ways that I will be rewarded, I'd like to pretend that I don't need a reward to want to do those things that I know are right, but I'd be a sucker to pass up a chance at things getting better instead of piling up getting worse.

So, it's time for a little more introspection (is that a word?). A little less time playing chess and a little more being helpful around home. A little less time spent sending silly personal emails and a little more getting down to business. Perhaps most of all, a little more time for devotion and prayer and a little less training up my Sandslash (which, I feel compelled to tell you, is kick ass).

Of course, this isn't something new for me, these are problems I constantly notice in myself and constantly fail to fix, mostly because I keep on thinking that I can do it alone. Chances are that if I continue making Monday a devotion post (which seems like a cool idea right now) it'll come up again and again, until you and I are bored to death of it. Anyway, until then, let me leave you with a little something from the Man himself, via Job 38:1-3, that I'll be using as the core of my focus tonight as a call to thoughtful prayer, expectant silence, introspection and acceptance...

Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?
Brace yourself like a man;
I will question you, and you shall answer me.

The First Step

...is admitting that you have a problem:

Hi, my name is Ted and I'm a biblioholic. I'm utterly addicted to the increase of my library, by any means necessary. It's been 2 days since my last bookshop splurge, when the friendly but concerned clerk, recognising me and the considerable amount I seem to spend on a regular basis at the Angus & Robertson in James Place, asked "How many of the books you own have you actually read?". He has a point. Maybe I just buy books to impress my local bookstoe clerk, for the smell of fresh paper and the softness of an uncreased trade paperback, or to look intelligent but not actually to read.

When I went home and looked at my collection, and what I saw disgusted me. I don't have a problem, I have seventy-four problems. Some of them partially solved, some of them new and exciting, right across the spectrum from historical fiction pulp to classic SF, biographies and non-fiction, and it's about time that I did something about it. These seventy-four are a not inconsiderable percentage of my entire library, and while I didn't buy them all I've let them get a little out of hand. So...

No more buying books until I've finished the ones I have now.
(This doesn't exclude me picking up free books or books or really, really good sale, but I won't go looking for them).

Some of you are aware that I've tried this before, but it failed the next time I went into a bookstore with money in my pocket (I managed a few times by making myself poor before entry), but this time it's in writing, and as I am a man of my word, I'm just going to have to knuckle down and deal with my problems, all 74 of them. Then maybe I can start on the other bad habits, like picking things up off of the street and putting them in my mouth.

Just on the off chance that you're interested, the list is:
Aitken, Johnathan. John Newton: From Disgrace to Amazing Grace (birthday present 2010)
Asimov, Isaac. Robot Stories. (bought this weekend)
Austen, Jane. Emma (deceased estate 2008, deceased smoked a lot)
Blainey, Geoffrey. A Shorter History of Australia (free box at work)
Bryson, Bill. A Short History of Nearly Everything (bought early 2010)
Bunyan, John. The Pilgrim’s Progress (inherited)
Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange (bought 2009)
Chaucer, Geoffrey. Canterbury Tales (2009)
Christie, Agatha. 4.50 From Paddington (inherited)
Christie, Agatha. Mrs. McGinty’s Dead (inherited)
Christie, Agatha. The Mousetrap (free box)
Christie, Agatha. They Came to Baghdad (inherited)
Christie, Agatha. They Do It with Mirrors (inherited)
Clarke, Susanna. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (bought this weekend)
Cornwell, Bernard. Sharpe’s Revenge (op-shop 2010)
Courtenay, Bryce. The Persimmon Tree (early 2010)
Cupp, Bob. The Edict (early 2010)
Currie, Ron. God is Dead (A&R crazy sale 2010)
Dahl, Roald. Going Solo (2009)
Dickens, Charles. A Tale of Two Cities (birthday present 2010)
Dickens, Charles. Hard Times (deceased estate 2008)
Dickens, Charles. Nicholas Nickleby (deceased estate 2008)
Donaldson, Stephen. The One Tree (free box)
Donaldson, Stephen. The Wounded Land (inherited)
Donaldson, Stephen. White Gold Wielder (inherited)
Durrell, Gerald. My Family and Other Animals (2009)
Eliot, George. Middlemarch (deceased estate 2008)
Flanagan, Richard. Wanting (A&R crazy sale 2010)
Gaiman, Neil. The Graveyard Book (early 2010)
Gibson, William. Burning Chrome (free box)
Gibson, William. Mona Lisa Overdrive (free box)
Gibson, William. Neuromancer (free box)
Hoban, Russell. Riddley Walker (inherited)
Homer. The Iliad (op-shop 2010)
Homer. The Odyssey (gift)
Joachimsthaler, Anton. The Last Days of Hitler (mid 2010)
Keneally, Tom. Australians – Origins to Eureka (last weekend)
Kennedy, GA Studdert. The Unutterable Beauty (op shop 2010)
Kipling, Rudyard. Limits and Renewals (inherited)
Lehmann, Darren. Worth the Wait (2009) - Read September 2010
Lewis, CS. Out of the Silent Planet (deceased estate 2008)
Lewis, CS. Perelandra (deceased estate 2008)
Lewis, CS. That Hideous Strength (deceased estate 2008)
Martin, GRR et al. Songs of a Dying Earth (last weekend) - Read October 2010
Milton, John. Dramatic Poems (op shop 2010)
Mitford, Nancy. Love in a Cold Climate (inherited)
Nabokov, Vladimir. Lolita (2008)
Orwell, George. Animal Farm (deceased estate 2008)
Owen, Wilfred. Poems (op shop 2010)
Peake, Mervyn. Gormenghast (free box)
Peake, Mervyn. Titus Groan (stolen from co-worker 2009)
Robertson, Geoffrey. Crimes Against Humanity (early 2010)
Salinger, JD. The Catcher in the Rye (inherited)
Selby-Montefiore, Hugh. Enigma (early 2010)
Shatner, William. Tek Lab (free box)
Shatner, William. Tek Vengeance (free box)
Shaw, George Bernard. Three Plays For Puritans (free box)
Stow, Randolph. The Merry-Go-Round in the Sea (early 2010)
Sutherland, John. Curiosities of Literature (birthday present 2009)
Swift, Jonathan. Gullivers Travels and Other Writings (free box)
Thackeray, William Makepeace. Vanity Fair (deceased estate 2008)
Tolstoy, Leo. War and Peace (2009)
Twain, Mark. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (2009)
Waugh, Evelyn. A Handful of Dust (2009)
Wilde, Oscar. A Picture of Dorian Grey (2008)
Wilde, Oscar. Complete Short Fiction (2009)
Winton, Tim. Breath (2009)
Wodehouse, PG. A Pelican at Blandings (free box)
Wodehouse, PG. Jeeves in the Offing (free box)
Wodehouse, PG. Much Obliged, Jeeves (free box)
Wodehouse, PG. P. Smith in the City (free box)
Wodehouse, PG. Ring for Jeeves (free box)
Wyss, Johann. Swiss Family Robinson (deceased esate)

Now I've got to read the suckers.

The next step is coming to believe that a higher power can restore me to sanity. I have a feeling that that one might take a while.