Our Pastor's sermon today, on the tenth commandment (in a series he's titled "The Gospel According to Moses"), was especially good. Or maybe it was just pertinent to our situation and thus seemed especially good. He first pointed out that coveting is in some ways the sine qua non sin for the violation of all the commandments; it is coveting which takes place first before breaking any of the others.
What was most striking for us, however, was his emphasis upon coveting as the opposite of contentment. Coveting is the mindset that spurs us to seek other things--from other people--as the fulfillment of our needs and the condition for happiness. Usually implied by this mindset is idolatry of the heart; these others conditions or things have replaced God as our chief source of joy and fulfillment.
Pastor Um has often spoken of we as people--Christians no less--as being aspirational. We are always pursuing that next goal that we project will bring us an endless supply of popularity or wealth or status or influence; in short, fulfillment. Today's sermon on coveting hit both P. and I in the gut--but in a good way (not the kind of way that makes you want to vomit). It enabled both of us to realize that if pending opportunities don't pan out the way we want them, we can still be content, as God has already given us all sprititual blessings in Christ. In fact, if we continue to place all our hope for happiness in the granting of these opportunities, we have guaranteed ourselves that we will not be happy, as we have required something of these circumstances that only God can provide.
3.18.2007
3.08.2007
Eugene Lane
Tuesday I encountered some sad news when browsing the website of the MU Classics department. Eugene Lane, Professor Emeritus of Classics, died this past January. Dr. Lane was the closest thing to an academic mentor that I have ever had, and it was largely through his encouragement that I persevered in Greek, even when Sophocles (or Aristophanes, Aristotle, Plato, etc.) would have had it otherwise.
Initially, upon meeting him, I--and no doubt many others--thought that Dr. Lane was a curmudgeon. He could be at times an intimidating figure on account of his limitless knowledge as well as his seemingly anti-social tendencies. These impressions changed, of course, as students got to know this one-of-a-kind instructor through multiple courses.
For me, it happened rather randomly that I came to see Dr. Lane as more than just a demanding Greek instructor.
[I should indicate at this point, that I was anything but the model Greek student; usually, I was in the middle of the pack as far as aptitude went. Complicating the matter were my study habits: I would routinely stay up until 4 or 5 in the morning studying, only to sleep in and miss the very class (usually Greek) for which I had been studying. So normal was this procedure, that one Friday morning in Greek class, when handing back quizzes or calling on volunteers, Dr. Lane caught sight of me and "exclaimed" in his patented under-the-breath sort of way: "Eric, to what honor are we due for your appearance here on a Friday morning?," or something to that effect.]
Dr. Lane had been awarded through a faculty raffle (or something of that nature) two tickets to attend the Missouri football game that weekend. Unfortunately, he said, his wife was unable to attend, and so he was needing to give away the ticket, and wondered if any of us might want it/them. My hand shot up first, and so I was awarded the prize. (Curiously, I noticed that no one else seemed interested in the ticket; I wrote this off to their being nerds.)
After class, as I was walking out the door, Dr. Lane mumbled "I'll see you at the game, Eric," and it was only at this point that I came to the deflating realization that Dr. Lane would himself be going to the game, and I would be sitting right next to him! (It made sense, now, why no one raised a hand to claim the ticket.) I believe Adam even questioned me later why I had been so enthusiastic. I could have swore that in offering the ticket, Dr. Lane had made some comment about not liking football, which lead to my inference that he wouldn't be attending.
Despite my significant misgivings, the experience turned out to be rewarding. I learned about Dr. Lane as a person and his family; in turn, he asked me about myself, background, and interests. What really endeared him to me, though, was his comment midway through the fourth quarter as the tigers were characteristically getting throttled: "well, this ones in the can; I'm going home to have an iced cold Coors."
This experience meant a lot to me. It showed me Dr. Lane's human side and his love for life and his family. It also showed that he took an interest in people, particularly his students. I had cause to remember our shared football game experience and this kindly side of him again at his retirement party. I entered late to this event with another Greek student of his. As we came into the room, we saw a cluster of more, shall I say, extraverted students gathered around him, ones who had sat under his instruction for all of 1 semester. Feeling uncomfortable, I stood with my other "Greek" friend in the corner. Then I hear Dr. Lane (incredible in itself): "Now, there's the only student I have ever gone to a football game with." Saying this, he came over to talk to Laura and myself. I'm convinced he noticed how uncomfortable I/we looked.
In the past few years Dr. Lane has been encouraging by writing letters of recommendation on my behalf, despite the fact that his Parkinson's made this painful, no doubt. This past November I went to a conference in Washington, D.C., and had the opportunity to meet a scholar who has published a source-book with Dr. Lane. Early in this year, I e-mailed Dr. Lane to say that I had met Dr. MacMullen, and that the latter had had fond things to say about him. I didn't hear back from Dr. Lane. This, I assumed, was due to his advanced Parkinson's. Now I see that Dr. Lane passed away this very month. He will be missed.
Initially, upon meeting him, I--and no doubt many others--thought that Dr. Lane was a curmudgeon. He could be at times an intimidating figure on account of his limitless knowledge as well as his seemingly anti-social tendencies. These impressions changed, of course, as students got to know this one-of-a-kind instructor through multiple courses.
For me, it happened rather randomly that I came to see Dr. Lane as more than just a demanding Greek instructor.
[I should indicate at this point, that I was anything but the model Greek student; usually, I was in the middle of the pack as far as aptitude went. Complicating the matter were my study habits: I would routinely stay up until 4 or 5 in the morning studying, only to sleep in and miss the very class (usually Greek) for which I had been studying. So normal was this procedure, that one Friday morning in Greek class, when handing back quizzes or calling on volunteers, Dr. Lane caught sight of me and "exclaimed" in his patented under-the-breath sort of way: "Eric, to what honor are we due for your appearance here on a Friday morning?," or something to that effect.]
Dr. Lane had been awarded through a faculty raffle (or something of that nature) two tickets to attend the Missouri football game that weekend. Unfortunately, he said, his wife was unable to attend, and so he was needing to give away the ticket, and wondered if any of us might want it/them. My hand shot up first, and so I was awarded the prize. (Curiously, I noticed that no one else seemed interested in the ticket; I wrote this off to their being nerds.)
After class, as I was walking out the door, Dr. Lane mumbled "I'll see you at the game, Eric," and it was only at this point that I came to the deflating realization that Dr. Lane would himself be going to the game, and I would be sitting right next to him! (It made sense, now, why no one raised a hand to claim the ticket.) I believe Adam even questioned me later why I had been so enthusiastic. I could have swore that in offering the ticket, Dr. Lane had made some comment about not liking football, which lead to my inference that he wouldn't be attending.
Despite my significant misgivings, the experience turned out to be rewarding. I learned about Dr. Lane as a person and his family; in turn, he asked me about myself, background, and interests. What really endeared him to me, though, was his comment midway through the fourth quarter as the tigers were characteristically getting throttled: "well, this ones in the can; I'm going home to have an iced cold Coors."
This experience meant a lot to me. It showed me Dr. Lane's human side and his love for life and his family. It also showed that he took an interest in people, particularly his students. I had cause to remember our shared football game experience and this kindly side of him again at his retirement party. I entered late to this event with another Greek student of his. As we came into the room, we saw a cluster of more, shall I say, extraverted students gathered around him, ones who had sat under his instruction for all of 1 semester. Feeling uncomfortable, I stood with my other "Greek" friend in the corner. Then I hear Dr. Lane (incredible in itself): "Now, there's the only student I have ever gone to a football game with." Saying this, he came over to talk to Laura and myself. I'm convinced he noticed how uncomfortable I/we looked.
In the past few years Dr. Lane has been encouraging by writing letters of recommendation on my behalf, despite the fact that his Parkinson's made this painful, no doubt. This past November I went to a conference in Washington, D.C., and had the opportunity to meet a scholar who has published a source-book with Dr. Lane. Early in this year, I e-mailed Dr. Lane to say that I had met Dr. MacMullen, and that the latter had had fond things to say about him. I didn't hear back from Dr. Lane. This, I assumed, was due to his advanced Parkinson's. Now I see that Dr. Lane passed away this very month. He will be missed.
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