Diana in Philosophy Class
“It’s been ten years since mainstream science accepted the theory that space is finite,” said Professor Beamon to his class. “In those ten years we have only begun to grasp the implications. If the universe is limited, it has a center. It can be measured. It has an edge.” He emphasized this last corollary because of its mystery.
“I thought this was philosophy class,” Diana thought. She rolled her eyes and began to scribble an intricate celtic pattern on her notebook. She was officially tuned out. Science was not her thing. I mean, she loved observation and analysis and all that scientific method stuff, but what science has become: a theoretical jungle o mathematics, microscopic assumptions, and universe-encompassing equations – was not even remotely relevant to her major, her roommate troubles, or her existence.
Next to her a male student was tapping his pen, putting random dots on his paper. Or maybe they weren’t random. They blurred out of focus. Who was he? Why was he tapping? Why did he use that pen? Was he moving in time to his thoughts? The professor’s speech cadence? What did that seemingly meaningless collection of dots indicate? Dreams have had interpretations since prehistoric times. So dots can mean something, too. “Everything means something,” she reassured herself. “God shows His glory in the details.”
“…details,” said the professor. Diana’s attention snapped back. After all, even a word in an insignificant lecture is a detail. It means something as well.
Her teacher continued while Diana tried to gather what led up to this. You know how sometimes your memory stores things you heard, even though you weren’t listening? He had been talking about how space was limited… and time! Time is limited too. “He’s way too into math,” Diana thought. She jotted down the mathematical term Professor Beamon had used so she could look it up later.
“The point is, there are only so many combinations of variables in an isolated universe. Eventually everything will be tried: every bar of music, every sentence. You may have read C.S. Lewis. In one of his children’s novels, there is a ‘deplorable word’ that ends the world. What if the last possible association has been made? Will the world end then? Or will we gradually see the world in bigger and bigger ‘sentences’? Have we already reached that point? Is the great philosopher of Ecclesiastes right when he says ‘there is nothing new under the sun’?”
Diana was thinking now. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding. Scarcely sparing the energy from her thoughts to raise her hand, it yet went up slowly. Immediately the teacher stopped and pointed at her. She had hoped for a moment more to organize the thought forming in her heart more than her mind. When she began, she stuttered. Professor Beamon leaned forward, but he wasn’t impatient or intimidating; he was eager, and he sought to draw all his students into the lesson.
“What if creativity isn’t constant? I mean,” Diana took a deep breath to slow down, “E equals m c squared and all that, but what if we keep going on even after everythinghas been tried? Does that mean we’re getting input from outside the universe?” Philosophy always made her think of God. C.S. Leis argued that rational thinking can only be explained by the existence of a supernatural God.
The teacher repeated her question loud enough for the whole class to hear. Then he nodded at Diana. Before he could respond further, a boy across the room spoke up, “So like we’re not in a closed system?”
Another student posed another perspective, “Or we are closed, but we have a door, or better yet not a door, but like a balloon, someone with a sharp enough pin can puncture us.”
“So you’re arguing God? God is in control? God gives creativity? God holds that needle?” Professor Beamon picked up again.
But Diana was excited. This train of thought was going somewhere, for her at least. Each new thought second-guessed the previous until she moved deeper and deeper. She couldn’t tell if she was zooming out or zooming in as the map websites say it. She just knew that things got clearer the more she thought. And that is why she was here.
“Professor,” she interrupted again, “maybe it wasn’t a matter of reaching the end of possibilities. Maybe a long time ago there were no possibilities until God injected them. After all, where does thinking, and talking, and all creative expression come from originally?”
He didn’t look like he had never considered that. Nor did he act like she had stolen one of his points. He merely smiled, sweeping his eyes across a room full of thoughtful faces. And he went on, shepherding the discussion until it reached the point at which he was aiming all along.
“What is a world where every melody has already been sung? Where every love story has been lived? Is that a world people can live in? Is repetition bad? Or beautiful? If the world does have edges, must it also have walls?”
After class, Diana went to meet the professor personally. This was the first class of the semester, and despite the rough, science-oriented start, she was excited.
“You’ve discovered my favorite word: ‘maybe’, Miss Connor. I appreciate your participation.”
“I like your class. You aren’t like a lot of teachers. When you ask a question, you don’t have an answer in mind. I mean, you let us be right, too.”
“Well, if you’re ever obviously wrong, I will let you know. For instance, on tests, there are right and wrong answers. I do believe in absolutes.”
Diana laughed at the reference to the shaky worldview that went out of fashion after the scientific enlightenment of 2015. That was an unstable time, when most standard scientific laws and theories were thrown out and reinterpreted. Naturalism, which had bound science under almost a spell for over a century, slowly fell apart as scientists first trickled, then flocked to a philosophy of order and information once again. During those unstable years in the rebuilding of science, one could not afford not to believe in absolutes.
“Yet this class is not about discovering the world’s secrets or getting perfect test scores. I see the student; you, Miss Connor, or you, Mr. Stapler, “ he addressed another student who had come up and was listening, “as my primary focus. I care that each of you learn to think critically and rationally and frequently. Meditate on Scripture. Ponder God’s creation. Some students, of course, have to be taught to think in the first place.”
“I know,” said Diana. “But, sir, you nearly lost me with all the science at the beginning. I checked to make sure I was in the right class.”
“Philosophy isn’t science, or knowledge like the Greek word means. It’s guessing,” Matt Stapler agreed.
“But it’s all connected. God’s creation is interwoven. I like to emphasize different aspects of this in my lectures. You have to know that philosophy has a practical side.
“Besides, I find science fascinating, and I like to keep up with the newest advances. You’ll find I speak about whatever is on my mind, and it all comes together for two reasons. The first is that I am thinking about things myself, and always making the connections. The second is that sometimes, when we surrender, when I surrender to God’s service, He takes over and gets the results.”
“I say whatever is on my mind and it gets me into trouble,” Matt said.
“That’s where the input issue comes in,” Diana said. “Out of the overflow of our hearts the mouth speaks. And nothing can be in our hearts unless we put it there. So praying and memorizing Scripture and reading good books…”
“Or even science articles,” put in Professor Beamon playfully.
“Yes, or whatever ingredients you need to make your cake – that’s what produces good, orderly things coming out of your mouth.”
“Only a girl would have mentioned cake there. But I see what you’re saying. I need to get so saturated with truth and good things that nothing else could possibly come out when I open my mouth,” Matt summarized.
“And as I encourage open mouths both to speak, and like baby birds, to be fed, I highly recommend you prepare to speak,” Professor Beamon said good-naturedly. “Good to have you in my class.”
Only once they both turned away did he start gathering papers, none of which he seemed to have used during the class. All the while they had been talking, he had been completely focused on them.
“So what are you here for?” Matt asked Diana.
“Like my major? Or how God brought me to this school and what I expect Him to teach me?”
“Both if you like. But I meant your major.”
“I like psychology. Why people do what they do. In fact I can’t control myself; I analyze everything.”
“But if an infinite God is continually adding ideas and guiding, how can you ever make sense of that?”
Diana answered, “God is not a God of chaos, but of order. He made laws to govern the universe. He set us with limits. He tells us, also, about human nature.”
“So what about the other things?” Matt seemed to accept her answer. “Why this college, and what’s God going to teach you?”
It is cool to be in a Bible college. Most of the people there share your values and theology. And they’re striving to live lives of Christ-likeness, centered on love and building others up. With this confidence, Diana expected that when anyone asked a question, they were ready to listen to the answer.
“As to how I got here, it’s all God’s work. I heard about the school through a friend, and when I looked up info about the college, I just knew. Their mission statement, the majors they offered, and the classes each major included just fit my interests so well. A lot of schools might be good for one subject or another, but this, this was like a gourmet meal…”
“Are you hungry?” Matt asked. “Literally, I mean?”
“A little,” Diana answered. But she wondered how he knew.
“Cake. Gourmet. How about a candy bar?” He went to a vending machine so ancient it could have been in a museum. He swiped his currency card and asked her what she wanted. “Chocolate?” he suggested.
Diana took a bite and thanked him. Then she continued her tale. “So I really wanted to come here, but it was a miracle I got accepted. I’m still not sure how it happened.”
“A lot of people say that. Maybe it’s a conspiracy.”
Diana studied Matt out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was just teasing. “As for what God will teach me, I hope to be a better communicator, and to understand people better. And once you understand why people are who they are, and how they work, then you can help them become better people. But to do that, you have to know the standard you’re aiming for. That’s why I picked a Bible college.”
“That was a mouthful. You’re a good communicator, though.”
“I could be better,” Diana said humbly. “What are you here for?”
“My parents taught me to put God first, and everything else would fall into place. Kind of like Proverbs 3:5-6. He makes paths straight. So I set out on a quest to put God first in everything. I don’t think my parents expected my obedience to be so radical. It’s been an adventure.
“The first year after high school I spent doing foreign missions. With all the technological advances, especially in communications, it’s hard to remember there are pockets of the world where people are starving, and they’ve never heard the gospel. I went to a few of those places, for months at a time, and I’ll never forget.”
“Wow; I can’t imagine spending a whole year and then – what was it like to come back?”
“Rough, so far. Some things seem so petty. Like worship in church. In those countries if people were going to praise God, it was because they had something to sing about. I witnessed people praising God with their last breath, literally. Coming home was such a huge contrast. Some days I can’t bear the stifling formality.
“Personally I was used to needing God and relying on Him. It’s amazing how soon we forget, and get out of the habit. Now I’m like Israel, sitting in a land flowing with milk and honey. I have to remind myself that all this is from God, too.”
“Now who’s talking about food?” Diana teased.
“Anyway,” Matt smiled to acknowledge her joke, “a guy on my team had come to this college, and it was all he talked about. So here I am. To tell you the truth, I’m still not sure where God’s going to take me.”
“I wish I knew the future – just pieces.”
“Not me. I don’t envy those who know. God has His reasons for letting them know that they’re going to be a doctor, or marry their childhood sweetheart. It’s my adventure to follow God by faith. Faith is important. It’s survival. And we grow it by not knowing.”
I always find it interesting how well people get along when they barely know each other. Everything is new, so no quirks annoy. If the meeting is only casual, there is no need to go deep, to please, or to guard yourself, for that matter. And when a girl realizes she got along well with a boy that first meeting, the inevitable happens. Jane Austen, the classic novelist, pointed it out: her thoughts jump quickly from friendship to attachment to love and from there it is a small matter to jump to matrimony. All this can take place in a few seconds.
Since Diana was a great thinker, she thoroughly thought out all the implications of each step and analyzed every word that she and Matt had shared. Therefore it was more like minutes before she thought of marriage.
Unless a boy has either read Jane Austen’s excellent novels and taken their truths to heart; or been around girls long enough to know from experience that is what they are thinking, he cannot realize the danger he is in. He also certainly doesn’t consider matrimony himself. In fact, wishing most urgently that boys not be offended, boys usually leave such a conversation as Matt’s and Diana’s thinking of themselves. I don’t think this is bad, since many boys need to critique themselves so they well improve.
What did Matt think about after Diana walked away? First he noted, as near sub-consciously as possible while still able to suppress the idea, how bright her eyes were. Then he returned to the vending machine to indulge the craving that had brought on the use of the ‘milk and honey’ metaphor.
To God be all glory.
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“I thought this was philosophy class,” Diana thought. She rolled her eyes and began to scribble an intricate celtic pattern on her notebook. She was officially tuned out. Science was not her thing. I mean, she loved observation and analysis and all that scientific method stuff, but what science has become: a theoretical jungle o mathematics, microscopic assumptions, and universe-encompassing equations – was not even remotely relevant to her major, her roommate troubles, or her existence.
Next to her a male student was tapping his pen, putting random dots on his paper. Or maybe they weren’t random. They blurred out of focus. Who was he? Why was he tapping? Why did he use that pen? Was he moving in time to his thoughts? The professor’s speech cadence? What did that seemingly meaningless collection of dots indicate? Dreams have had interpretations since prehistoric times. So dots can mean something, too. “Everything means something,” she reassured herself. “God shows His glory in the details.”
“…details,” said the professor. Diana’s attention snapped back. After all, even a word in an insignificant lecture is a detail. It means something as well.
Her teacher continued while Diana tried to gather what led up to this. You know how sometimes your memory stores things you heard, even though you weren’t listening? He had been talking about how space was limited… and time! Time is limited too. “He’s way too into math,” Diana thought. She jotted down the mathematical term Professor Beamon had used so she could look it up later.
“The point is, there are only so many combinations of variables in an isolated universe. Eventually everything will be tried: every bar of music, every sentence. You may have read C.S. Lewis. In one of his children’s novels, there is a ‘deplorable word’ that ends the world. What if the last possible association has been made? Will the world end then? Or will we gradually see the world in bigger and bigger ‘sentences’? Have we already reached that point? Is the great philosopher of Ecclesiastes right when he says ‘there is nothing new under the sun’?”
Diana was thinking now. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding. Scarcely sparing the energy from her thoughts to raise her hand, it yet went up slowly. Immediately the teacher stopped and pointed at her. She had hoped for a moment more to organize the thought forming in her heart more than her mind. When she began, she stuttered. Professor Beamon leaned forward, but he wasn’t impatient or intimidating; he was eager, and he sought to draw all his students into the lesson.
“What if creativity isn’t constant? I mean,” Diana took a deep breath to slow down, “E equals m c squared and all that, but what if we keep going on even after everythinghas been tried? Does that mean we’re getting input from outside the universe?” Philosophy always made her think of God. C.S. Leis argued that rational thinking can only be explained by the existence of a supernatural God.
The teacher repeated her question loud enough for the whole class to hear. Then he nodded at Diana. Before he could respond further, a boy across the room spoke up, “So like we’re not in a closed system?”
Another student posed another perspective, “Or we are closed, but we have a door, or better yet not a door, but like a balloon, someone with a sharp enough pin can puncture us.”
“So you’re arguing God? God is in control? God gives creativity? God holds that needle?” Professor Beamon picked up again.
But Diana was excited. This train of thought was going somewhere, for her at least. Each new thought second-guessed the previous until she moved deeper and deeper. She couldn’t tell if she was zooming out or zooming in as the map websites say it. She just knew that things got clearer the more she thought. And that is why she was here.
“Professor,” she interrupted again, “maybe it wasn’t a matter of reaching the end of possibilities. Maybe a long time ago there were no possibilities until God injected them. After all, where does thinking, and talking, and all creative expression come from originally?”
He didn’t look like he had never considered that. Nor did he act like she had stolen one of his points. He merely smiled, sweeping his eyes across a room full of thoughtful faces. And he went on, shepherding the discussion until it reached the point at which he was aiming all along.
“What is a world where every melody has already been sung? Where every love story has been lived? Is that a world people can live in? Is repetition bad? Or beautiful? If the world does have edges, must it also have walls?”
After class, Diana went to meet the professor personally. This was the first class of the semester, and despite the rough, science-oriented start, she was excited.
“You’ve discovered my favorite word: ‘maybe’, Miss Connor. I appreciate your participation.”
“I like your class. You aren’t like a lot of teachers. When you ask a question, you don’t have an answer in mind. I mean, you let us be right, too.”
“Well, if you’re ever obviously wrong, I will let you know. For instance, on tests, there are right and wrong answers. I do believe in absolutes.”
Diana laughed at the reference to the shaky worldview that went out of fashion after the scientific enlightenment of 2015. That was an unstable time, when most standard scientific laws and theories were thrown out and reinterpreted. Naturalism, which had bound science under almost a spell for over a century, slowly fell apart as scientists first trickled, then flocked to a philosophy of order and information once again. During those unstable years in the rebuilding of science, one could not afford not to believe in absolutes.
“Yet this class is not about discovering the world’s secrets or getting perfect test scores. I see the student; you, Miss Connor, or you, Mr. Stapler, “ he addressed another student who had come up and was listening, “as my primary focus. I care that each of you learn to think critically and rationally and frequently. Meditate on Scripture. Ponder God’s creation. Some students, of course, have to be taught to think in the first place.”
“I know,” said Diana. “But, sir, you nearly lost me with all the science at the beginning. I checked to make sure I was in the right class.”
“Philosophy isn’t science, or knowledge like the Greek word means. It’s guessing,” Matt Stapler agreed.
“But it’s all connected. God’s creation is interwoven. I like to emphasize different aspects of this in my lectures. You have to know that philosophy has a practical side.
“Besides, I find science fascinating, and I like to keep up with the newest advances. You’ll find I speak about whatever is on my mind, and it all comes together for two reasons. The first is that I am thinking about things myself, and always making the connections. The second is that sometimes, when we surrender, when I surrender to God’s service, He takes over and gets the results.”
“I say whatever is on my mind and it gets me into trouble,” Matt said.
“That’s where the input issue comes in,” Diana said. “Out of the overflow of our hearts the mouth speaks. And nothing can be in our hearts unless we put it there. So praying and memorizing Scripture and reading good books…”
“Or even science articles,” put in Professor Beamon playfully.
“Yes, or whatever ingredients you need to make your cake – that’s what produces good, orderly things coming out of your mouth.”
“Only a girl would have mentioned cake there. But I see what you’re saying. I need to get so saturated with truth and good things that nothing else could possibly come out when I open my mouth,” Matt summarized.
“And as I encourage open mouths both to speak, and like baby birds, to be fed, I highly recommend you prepare to speak,” Professor Beamon said good-naturedly. “Good to have you in my class.”
Only once they both turned away did he start gathering papers, none of which he seemed to have used during the class. All the while they had been talking, he had been completely focused on them.
“So what are you here for?” Matt asked Diana.
“Like my major? Or how God brought me to this school and what I expect Him to teach me?”
“Both if you like. But I meant your major.”
“I like psychology. Why people do what they do. In fact I can’t control myself; I analyze everything.”
“But if an infinite God is continually adding ideas and guiding, how can you ever make sense of that?”
Diana answered, “God is not a God of chaos, but of order. He made laws to govern the universe. He set us with limits. He tells us, also, about human nature.”
“So what about the other things?” Matt seemed to accept her answer. “Why this college, and what’s God going to teach you?”
It is cool to be in a Bible college. Most of the people there share your values and theology. And they’re striving to live lives of Christ-likeness, centered on love and building others up. With this confidence, Diana expected that when anyone asked a question, they were ready to listen to the answer.
“As to how I got here, it’s all God’s work. I heard about the school through a friend, and when I looked up info about the college, I just knew. Their mission statement, the majors they offered, and the classes each major included just fit my interests so well. A lot of schools might be good for one subject or another, but this, this was like a gourmet meal…”
“Are you hungry?” Matt asked. “Literally, I mean?”
“A little,” Diana answered. But she wondered how he knew.
“Cake. Gourmet. How about a candy bar?” He went to a vending machine so ancient it could have been in a museum. He swiped his currency card and asked her what she wanted. “Chocolate?” he suggested.
Diana took a bite and thanked him. Then she continued her tale. “So I really wanted to come here, but it was a miracle I got accepted. I’m still not sure how it happened.”
“A lot of people say that. Maybe it’s a conspiracy.”
Diana studied Matt out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was just teasing. “As for what God will teach me, I hope to be a better communicator, and to understand people better. And once you understand why people are who they are, and how they work, then you can help them become better people. But to do that, you have to know the standard you’re aiming for. That’s why I picked a Bible college.”
“That was a mouthful. You’re a good communicator, though.”
“I could be better,” Diana said humbly. “What are you here for?”
“My parents taught me to put God first, and everything else would fall into place. Kind of like Proverbs 3:5-6. He makes paths straight. So I set out on a quest to put God first in everything. I don’t think my parents expected my obedience to be so radical. It’s been an adventure.
“The first year after high school I spent doing foreign missions. With all the technological advances, especially in communications, it’s hard to remember there are pockets of the world where people are starving, and they’ve never heard the gospel. I went to a few of those places, for months at a time, and I’ll never forget.”
“Wow; I can’t imagine spending a whole year and then – what was it like to come back?”
“Rough, so far. Some things seem so petty. Like worship in church. In those countries if people were going to praise God, it was because they had something to sing about. I witnessed people praising God with their last breath, literally. Coming home was such a huge contrast. Some days I can’t bear the stifling formality.
“Personally I was used to needing God and relying on Him. It’s amazing how soon we forget, and get out of the habit. Now I’m like Israel, sitting in a land flowing with milk and honey. I have to remind myself that all this is from God, too.”
“Now who’s talking about food?” Diana teased.
“Anyway,” Matt smiled to acknowledge her joke, “a guy on my team had come to this college, and it was all he talked about. So here I am. To tell you the truth, I’m still not sure where God’s going to take me.”
“I wish I knew the future – just pieces.”
“Not me. I don’t envy those who know. God has His reasons for letting them know that they’re going to be a doctor, or marry their childhood sweetheart. It’s my adventure to follow God by faith. Faith is important. It’s survival. And we grow it by not knowing.”
I always find it interesting how well people get along when they barely know each other. Everything is new, so no quirks annoy. If the meeting is only casual, there is no need to go deep, to please, or to guard yourself, for that matter. And when a girl realizes she got along well with a boy that first meeting, the inevitable happens. Jane Austen, the classic novelist, pointed it out: her thoughts jump quickly from friendship to attachment to love and from there it is a small matter to jump to matrimony. All this can take place in a few seconds.
Since Diana was a great thinker, she thoroughly thought out all the implications of each step and analyzed every word that she and Matt had shared. Therefore it was more like minutes before she thought of marriage.
Unless a boy has either read Jane Austen’s excellent novels and taken their truths to heart; or been around girls long enough to know from experience that is what they are thinking, he cannot realize the danger he is in. He also certainly doesn’t consider matrimony himself. In fact, wishing most urgently that boys not be offended, boys usually leave such a conversation as Matt’s and Diana’s thinking of themselves. I don’t think this is bad, since many boys need to critique themselves so they well improve.
What did Matt think about after Diana walked away? First he noted, as near sub-consciously as possible while still able to suppress the idea, how bright her eyes were. Then he returned to the vending machine to indulge the craving that had brought on the use of the ‘milk and honey’ metaphor.
To God be all glory.
