Christmas

There is a rusty and bent bedrail hammered into the ground to mark the northeast corner of my parents' property. Sometimes I stand on a little pile of dirt beside it and listen to the night silence when I get home late. Tonight, as I stood there I thought about what the world would be like if the sun went out - poof. I could survive in my house with the propane in our tank for a week, and eat some of the food we have. But it would be only a little while before the planet was a ball of ice. I was also thinking about the sun, and whether or not it really exists, or if God puts it in the sky every day, along with the stars, nebulae, and other things we humans have seen out there. All we can do to prove their existence is see them with our eyes - and what if our eyes lie? What if it's all a cosmic trick? A sense-experience Imax film played in our brains?

All this existential wandering happened on Christmas Night, which I think is cool, because part of the mystery of Christmas is faith. Are we really supposed to believe that Jesus Christ lived, died, rose, and mattered? On what evidence? The Word of God? It can be shredded by all kinds of criticism. Our own experience? My short 19 years have taught me that my senses are far less reliable than I give them credit for. So what am I doing? Am I a Christian or a fideist?

A Christian. I can't prove it to you, but this Christian story - it's true. God give me strength to live it.

May you meet the living Word this Christmas.

Love, Ben

I removed this from my blog because posting it on Christmas felt so unholy.

Postmoderns Are People Too.

This is one video on youtube that I would watch even if Ryan rolled his eyes at me. I don't think it would get me that token gang of friends gathering around me in the library to laugh at something mildly funny, but I still recommend watching it. If the name Derrida means anything to you, feel free to head on down to the end of this post, ignore my poor introduction to him, and click the link.

See, here's the deal. Jacques Derrida (the man in the clip) is probably the most important postmodern philosopher. His work concerns meaning - he tries to ask the question if any part of our lives really means anything, especially books and conversations. He is also the name most people associate with deconstruction, a technique for interpreting text which he believes is capable of stripping the text of all meaning. For Derrida, life has no meaning, but is a dance, a play, an undoing of the past and a knitting together of the present.

As a Christian, it's hard to accept Derrida as a good philosopher. It's impossible for me to tell you exactly why, but here's my best attempt: YHWH is the meaning and the source of life, and history is His Story. So working to undo the meaning we have in our life seems foolish in the true sense of the word (Psalm 14:1). And working towards a place where no words have meaning does not seem smart for a man who attempts to make his living selling books and giving speeches. Derrida seems unenviable, he is convinced that the world has no meaning other than the meaning assigned to it by humans. The only problem with this is that now his words themselves can be doubted.

Maybe it's more easily expressed with an example: if one person says: "everyone can create his or her own truth", he is not able to argue his position against a person who says: "There is such a thing as absolute truth." For the first person to argue would be for him to say that there is something that is true for both people; namely, his opinion. Derrida finds himself in a similar predicament.

The fact that he is in this predicament may make this video mean less, because Derrida is simply playing his game, building and then destroying even his own arguments to keep the dance going even at the cost of his own credibility. But you have to appreciate the humanity with which he expresses himself. It makes postmodern philosophy seem so attractive.

Sorry for keeping you all waiting. The video is available here.
Love, Ben

Anger.

Anger is an emotion. I feel it sometimes. A lot of the time my anger is pointed at some abstract thing. It's kind of like I need something to be angry about all the time. If I stop being angry with the fact that people are killed and women are raped and that the world is broken, I find myself being angry with things closer to home: basketball, philosophy, particular people who are friends but who I disagree with, and who are distant enough for me to be angry at them and never be forced to resolve the problems, because I don't see them often enough to see the tangible, physical effects of a broken relationship - the harsh body language, the chill running up the spine, the hole in the chest.

The thing is, most of my anger is sustained by space between people. If we were closer together, we could do something about fixing the issues, even if our only motivation was that the issues had more tangible effect.

Today though, I was honestly angry, at someone who was standing beside me, and who I had to deal with that instant. I had just gotten to "The Seer's Tower" on Illinoise, and was enjoying it in my subconscious, when a security guard tapped me on the shoulder and woke me up, telling me to go take a nap in my dorm. Who the heck wakes someone who is enjoying a nap on a decent couch in the only quiet part of the school? Seriously.

My anger needs to be directed. I tell the team I coach that they need to direct their passion and energy into good defense and good offense. Somehow anger has to lead me to constructive action. Which seems a really dumb thing to say, since we're not talking about rage and fury here, just annoyance. But annoyance is probably an alright thing to harness too.

There, I did it. My annoyance was fuel for the first blog post on here in a few months. Great blog, eh?

Love, Ben

One thing I am not mad about:

Filling up my gas tank for less than $40. And that's all!

Thing 1.

Hermeneutics is about rules of interpretation. This is the simplest one I can think of:
God is both creator and poet.

Philosophy.

The day after I thought philosophy was useless:
This
And, the day after I started thinking that there is no opportunity for a person like me to use philosophy:
This
I have to figure out what I'm going to write about/if I'm going to do it, but the privilege of speaking to such an audience would be like nothing I've ever experienced before.

Big Question # 1

Who are we?






(taken from James Sire's Universe Next Door)

A.F. + B.O. = B.F.F.

With everyone going insane over Barack Obama, I can't help but feel that he's going to take over the world. I imagine that this is what Hitler was like before people realized he was a maniac. But, I wasn't around back then so I can say nothing for sure. And, the fact that Barack seems to be a darling candidate may just be a lie of the media. Perhaps he is benign and popular. Perhaps he is malicious and popular.

Arcade Fire's Win Butler says "Barack is the first candidate in my lifetime to strip some of this bullshit away, and I just hope we don't blow this chance."

Arcade Fire is the type of rock band that seems infallible, that can almost do no wrong. Everything I hear about them is good, and their music is very good. Perhaps they are benign, partly Canadian, and popular. Perhaps they are malicious, partly American, and popular.

Roots and anchors and things that hold us in one place.

Roots Day in the Park is coming in only 4 days! I'm dreadfully excited, and scared. It's the first thing that Mieke, Ben, Kristen, Justine, Amber, Aaron, Sarah, Garnet, Dan and I will try to do as a group for other people, and that's scary stuff somehow. None of us are perfect, but for 6 hours on Saturday we are responsible for a buttload of people's bodies, minds, and in part, souls. It's the souls thing that's scaring me most - just because I'm supposed to figure out a way to lead all these people. And as I go from work to school, from "ickle firsty" to second year, from summer to fall, from not having Youth Group to having Youth Group, I can't help but get a drifty-changy feeling. (see also Justine's latest)

This transient feeling is not new, just more intense than normal. And the intensity scares me because I'm planning to talk about roots, anchors, and things that hold us in one place at the Roots Day. How the heck do I encourage others to understand what God has done for them when by my life I show that I don't really care?

I think that God's grace is huge in that He takes people that Satan is fighting tooth and nail to claim, and makes them trophies of grace. God polishes us up, makes us all nice and shiny, engraves His Name on us, and sticks us in His trophy case. And then God probably trash talks Satan (Job 1:8).
If you won't admit that you're broke, God probably won't fix you.

At least, that's how I think it goes.

Peace + Love, Ben

I am / living in this house / this house!

Here's some photos of my crib for the summer, if you haven't been to visit yet. And, what are you waiting for? Let me know when you're coming over.






Front view, with Accordion.















Perennials left over from the previous owners.


























Vegetable garden! and carrot! Yumm-o!


















Front view from the roof















Hamilton from the roof! + trampoline! + backyard!







So, that's that! I like living here, with these guys. It's interesting that we are at the edge of suburbia - There is a horse farm in front of us and a subdivision behind us. There is also a large white sign in front of this house that tells anyone who cares that an application has been submitted to the City of Hamilton for the house's destruction. 5 subdivision boxes will be on this property in 4 years. I don't know how that makes me feel, but I know that I am thankful to have spent the last 3 months here.

Busy.

I hate being busy. It doesn't really accomplish all that much.
To make up for it, I put a Muskoka chair on my roof and I drink my beer there.
That's all.

Realism:

When I'm in a pine box, people will read the internet and say: "Wow. Grampa was cool. He wrote a blog! How endearing and soulful."

Actually, that was a lie.

When I open the cigar box full of old stuff I got from my Grampa, I get goosebumps. When people dust off their Macbooks 80 years from now and type www.benbouwman.blogspot.com into that crazy old thing they used to use called Firefox, will they get goosebumps at the garbage I write here? Doubt it.

I need to leave something behind that will yellow with age, that people will have to dig up and dust off, that they will be able to physically store and treasure, not look up on the internet every once in a while.

But who really cares? It's all going to burn anyway; that's what mom always says when Aunt Margaret talks on and on blah blah blah about her next addition to her collection of antique collections. Then Aunt Margaret goes red in the face, pours another glass of wine and says: "Yes that's true - But I love to have a Coll-eck-shun!"

I am an Aunt-like figure who has had far too much wine and who yells at the top of her lungs "I LOVE TO HAVE A COLLECTION!" until her nephew wishes that either he was not obliged to sit at the table with her or he was Harry Potter and could make her inflate.

Thoreau says that poor people are actually rich because they can do with less. He is right about that.

Life is Beautiful

You plant a rose
And if the rose comes up
You're thankful to God
And when it doesn't you cuss him
You raise a child
And when the child grows up
You got to learn to let go
If you can't learn to love him
But, oh, what a beautiful thing when you sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Now I'm not saying only bad news comes
For the people who want it
But you gotta play that music for who's listening
You got to have someone you wanna sing it to
Oh, what a beautiful thing when you sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Blue sky cracking and it makes me believe
Oh, hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Close my eyes, see the glorious sunset
Through the windows of a store and I want it
Anyway, if I ever felt haunted
You were there for me
These angry people who are waiting to judge you
Have their own judgment that they'll have live up to
Open your mouth
And if nothing come through
Remember
You're the one that sings
And it's a gift
And life's a beautiful thing
Oh, don't waste it doll
You build a house and if the house comes up
You gotta work on that house
If you want to make it your home
'Cause everything inside that's not something you own
Is what you're taking with you
On the day that you go
And oh, what a beautiful world when we sing
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
Hear all them bells ringing out in the street
Oh, hammer strikes the metal and it makes me believe
'Cause if I don't believe in love
Then I don't believe in you
And I do

Ryan Adams is a good singer and guitar player and writer. Someday, if I work up the courage, I might review his album "Cold Roses" on this site. It's maybe my favourite album ever.

Ora et Labora.

Mr. Jongsma had two favourite sayings: "Haste Makes Waste" & "Ora et Labora". On the first day of Grade 7 he had written the latter on the board in chalk and explained in his beautiful Dutch accent that "Ora" meant "speak" or "pray" and "Labora" meant "Work" - in Latin. I was immediately turned off because he knew Latin and because he was old and because he made us underline the title and dates on our notes twice in red pen, and because he made us call him "Sir" instead of "Mr. Jongsma" and because I was more interested in flirting with the girl who sat near me in Spelling, so I disregarded his words for most of my life since then.

This summer has been one in which "Ora et Labora" is what I have had no choice but to live. In the past, my work has become self-centred and poor, but with prayer, it is going much better this year! In the past, my prayer has made me apathetic and ignorant of the value of earth (Platonist), but with work, I am seeing God's hand guiding my life and blessing my actions!

This is life: Ora et Labora. Trust and Fight. Give control to God and fight for His will. See the big picture but value your own desires. I am like the newbie in tightrope walking school - I need guiding hands and a big rod to help me maintain balance, but by the grace of God I am working on it.

Yeah, by the grace of God I am working.

If you know me...

Hello everyone!
Today I had a "study day" for my philosophy exam tomorrow. If you know me, you will know that I deeply enjoy philosophy. However, if you know me, you will also know that I dislike studying for exams, especially on days with weather like we had today. So, as I read through information I'm supposed to know about Plato, Aristotle, Kierkegaard, Augustin, Aquinas, and others, I found myself looking for something else to do.
If you know me, you will likely have been a passenger in my car, The Accordion, at one point or another. You will also have noticed that cleaning said automobile is not high on my list of Things I Love, in fact one could say that it would be on the list of Things I Don't Make Time To Do, or even the list of Things I Hate Doing. Regardless, I thought of how such a beautiful day as this would be the best sort of day for this cleaning, as it's better to be outside cleaning a car on a day like today than say, a day when it is minus 20 degrees outside, like most of the other seasons we have here in Canada.
I washed the outside of my car, and as I finished I thought of how painful it would be to go inside and study after enjoying such beautiful weather for an hour. The next course of action was obvious - I had to clean the inside of my car. Cleaning the inside of my car is a very special event as it usually only happens once per annum, and last year my car was graciously given it's cleaning by Kira, Anton, and Justine. This was a deeply interesting experience, as I'm sure you can well imagine if you know me. Passengers in my car are likely to notice the wonderfully varied amount of interesting objects that populate its interior (translation: it's full of crap). Here follows a non-exhaustive list of some of the things I found in my car today, and stories about how they came to be there:

1. 1 flashlight - suitable for campfires, reading things at night, and other dark situations.
2. 1 pair broken aviator sunglasses - given to me by Tyler, one arm is broken off, but they still stay on my face, so I use them in situations of extreme brightness (Note that the first two objects equip me for activities in all light levels. Talk about being prepared.)
3. 1 tube toothpaste - I always forget toothpaste when I go to camp, and the solution was clear: permanently store toothpaste in my car!
4. 2 tape measures - stolen from my brother's truck because tape measures are the rarest commodity at Thor Stone Construction.
5. 1 sculpture of a human figure in the fetal position - given to me by Kira, it says "pretzel" on the back, referring to my habit of curling up and falling asleep on the couches of friends.
6. 2 chapstick - one for curing dry, chapped lips, and one for rigging up my iPod connection so it does not fuzz out and wreck the music in my car every two seconds.
7. 1 tennis ball - found on the way to Steve, Willem, and Matt's house, useful for various games at school during procrastination.
8. 1 water gun - duh?
9. 1 button - picture of Tecumseh is on it. From Kira.
10. 1 toy guy - from Kira's house, we took him on photographic journey to Hamilton but didn't take any pictures of him. Poor guy.
    
11. 1 stuffed moose - bought him in Algonquin park about 6 years ago, looks awfully cute in my rearview mirror.
12. 1 pair pliers - useful for repairs, for hammering things with, and for twisting the heat-control knob (which is sadly broken) to control the air temperature in my car. Little flaws like these are what give The Accordion her character.
13. 1 bottle 2% xylocaine - dental numbing agent given to me by Neal, useful for pranks on sleeping victims.
    
14. 2 McDonald's stuffed figures - Named Wib and Jacoba Fisher.
    
15. 1 disused portable c.d. player.
16. Numerous notes, letters, confidential documents and tax return papers. All from people I love, like friends, family, Student Senate, and the Canada Revenue Agency.
    
17. 1 first aid kit.
18. 1 package Del Monte Apple juice - for emergencies.
    
19. 1 granola bar - for emergencies.
20. 2 Bibles.
    
21. 2 pairs of work jeans.
22. 1 pair work boots.
23. 1 pair dress shoes.
24. 1 pair basketball shoes.
25. 1 tub Duncan Hines chocolate icing - I gave up coffee for Lent so I kept this in my car for long car rides at night. When I felt prone to doze off, I would simply eat a spoonful of icing- better than coffee!
26. 1 broken compass/binocular/mirror/magnifying glass/all-round survival device - in case I am not lost and I want to be lost, or I want to see something far away without just driving there, or I want to check my reflection without using the other 5 mirrors surrounding me when I'm in my car, or I want to examine something small, or I want to live in the woods and be a wild-man.
27. 1 dinner plate from the Lodder's house.
28. 2 matching green towels - I didn't like Hitchhikers Guide much, but I learned to carry a towel (or two) wherever I go.
29. 1 Royal costume - from Roots conference, includes blue blazer, gold threaded sash, and extra-short beige pants.
30. 1/2 jug Quaker state motor oil - My car loves this stuff. So much that it leaks it every once in a while.
    
31. 1 ice scraper - because who really feels like carrying it all the way inside in April, and all the way back outside in November?
32. 1 Carey Price bobblehead - free from a Bulldogs game! Woohoo! I'm hoping to sell this thing on Ebay for $15000 someday.
33. 3 handbooks for organizations/events - TrueCity, Zion Youth Group, and Faithworks Kentucky Trip.
34. 1 raincoat
35. 2 battery powered glow sticks - both of these are from friends, one from Beka at a mini-putt extravaganza, and one from Neal, the World's Most Amazing Secret Friend for 2007.
36. 2 copies "The Letter To The Hebrews" - one is mine, the other says "Helder" in the front. Uhh, I wonder where that came from. Sorry Joel!
37. 30 pens, pencils, or Sharpies - useful for writing things, which I guess is good because I want to be a writer. Interesting thing though: I didn't purchase 90% of these pens. People bum rides from me, their pens fall out of their pockets, and are claimed by me as a replacement for gas money. Essentially, anything that falls out of your pockets and that you don't claim within one (1) business day is considered a replacement for gas money, or a charitable donation to my existence. Unfortunately, no tax receipts can be issued. I don't at all feel badly about this policy, because most of the stuff people leave in my car is garbage, not useful at all. I think that all in all, when you consider the costs I must pay to dispose of the garbage that is left in my car, I am justified in taking whatever cool stuff is left there as well. (If you've lost anything you really need in my car, I'll give it back, I promise.)
    
38. 1 cell phone - to everyone who has complained to me about how impossible it is to contact me because I haven't got a cell phone, fret your souls no longer! I have found a cell phone in my car today! If you ever need to call me for anything, my number is Ryan's old cell phone's number.
39. Hundreds of signatures, notes, drawings, and other stuff written in Sharpie on the ceiling - My favourite part of my car! Be sure to make your mark if we ever get to drive anywhere together.
    

So, if you find yourself in need of any of the aforementioned items, please don't hesitate to let me know!
Grace + Peace, Ben

What I'm Thinking About:

Don't grow up too fast.

Wisdom:

Perseverance conquers doubt.
-C.G.
God never leaves us alone.
-L.P.
Mature service is mothered by a passionate heart and fathered by intentional action.

Hold Me!

Normally I don't post lyrics of songs because I think they make annoying blog posts, especially if everyone else already knows the lyrics. But, I'm humbled.

Well, sometimes my life
Just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small

So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart

Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight You for something
I don't really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees

And this Salvation Army band
Is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin

You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace.

-Rich Mullins

Beautiful:

Iron & Wine in the rain.
Forgiveness and healing, between God and humanity and between brothers and sisters.
Reverend Bosch's infectious passion.
Waves at Burlington beach.
Mom & Dad.
The mirror; look in it!

It's over!

ROOTS Conference 2008 is officially in the books! What a crazy experience, seeing 4 months of planning become fruitful in two and a half short days. Thanks to my church for its support, to Emmanuel Youth Group, to the YCC, to everyone who came, and to God, whose love was a banner over us.



Highlights: Jesus Christ, good food, fun games, challenging speakers. Being an idiot in front of a lot of people.

Getting fash-on, ya?

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Love, Ben

One Quick Pun, Sorry.

What do orcs put into their cars?



Mordor Oil.

-Ben Lootens & Ben Bouwman

Beauty Continued

In an effort to learn what beauty is, I'm making a list:
Beautiful things:
Snowball fights with anyone who wants to join, and with the computer science guys who went up on the roof and attacked us from there.
The ways one's hands hurt after snowball fights.
Some people's voices, when they know how to sing really well.
Sufjan: "Chicago","Casimir Pulaski Day".
Harmony.
Guitar.
Music.

Thanks, Ben

Beauty Matters

Beauty is so very important, but it's hard to know why.

I feel a little embarrassed about the last post here, I have a lot more to learn before I talk about art and beauty in a meaningful way.

Sorry.

Art Matters.

Today, watching that yellow and red face sink below the horizon. Wondering: "Does knowledge of the artist affect my love for the art?". Sky looks beautiful - if it was painted it would look like a romanticized sunset (is that possible?) and I would not like the painting. But it's God's art, and I know that it's real - there is no mimesis here. That's why it is beautiful.

Why does knowledge of the artist make me love their art a little more? Am I surprised that people in my life are extremely talented? If you can express yourself, keep going! One of my best friends recently answered the question: "What is your greatest fear?" with "not being able to express myself." I'm learning that that is an important fear, because expression is part of the deep soul God has given us. Part of being made in God's image is expression, and I'm trying to be open to expressing the goodness of God to anyone who is listening.

Basketball

I played basketball for a few hours this afternoon, and I really am thinking about trying out again next year.

This is a scary idea for me, because at the beginning of last year I decided I was done with competitive basketball for the rest of my life - Senate and school were going to be my focus. But playing this afternoon with some close friends and some not-so close-friends has kind of opened my eyes to the possibility that God may have more ideas for me and basketball.

Here's one of the defining conversations of my life and as a bonus, my first attempt at playwriting!


Mr. Sharpe and Ben Bouwman take a cab home from Guelph Collegiate Vocational Institute after another loss. It's night, it's raining, and they are talking.

Mr. Sharpe (jamming Ben's legs with his seat) - "Oh! Sorry Ben... I didn't mean to break those sticks of legs you've got.

Cabbie laughs.

Ben - "That's alright sir, I'm ok.

Mr. Sharpe - "I guess you don't need them anyway, you never dunk. You could have made some serious impressions for All-Star selection tonight if you managed to finish some of that stuff on the baseline -- Conroy was there, you know.

Ben - "Yeah, I guess.

Silence for a few minutes, Ben and his coach are arriving at St. James.

Ben - "Mr. Sharpe, do you think God cares about basketball?

Mr. Sharpe -"Of course he does! It's his favourite sport!

Ben - "How do you know?

Mr. Sharpe - ". . ."


I don't know what happened that night. Look up "Bob Sharpe" on a Canadian basketball website, and you'll find some impressive statistics - All Canadian, Olympian, Canadian Basketball Hall of Famer. Look up "Ben Bouwman" and you will likely find nothing. Maybe it was his impressive record colliding with my poor one, his theology colliding with mine, his god colliding with mine.

Does God care about basketball? Answer me please, whether or not you are athletically gifted!

Good Morning!

Right now I'm struggling with Plato and Christianity and my philosophy class and C.S. Lewis and heaven.

Is earth a copy of heaven, a flawed and sinful copy? Is the New Earth heaven? Is there time in heaven? Will contemplating the Forms in heaven get me any closer to truth? Is earth something I have to escape?

Am I emotionally weak for crying while reading "The Last Battle"?

Is everything true? Is there reason for believing what I believe beyond meaning for life? What if meaning for life doesn't really mean all that much anyway?

Dag, I missed Philosophy last semester.

N.B.

"And then our skin gets thicker from livin' out in the cold"
Canadian music is my favourite. Canada is my favourite.

Photos!

My family is completely and fully a gift from God, a challenge, and a grace I can never praise God enough for.







This is my Mom, my Dad, and me, almost 19 years ago. My mom's dress style hasn't yet come in fashion, but my dad is feeling a pretty cool indie rock look. (Unfortunately I think he's thrown out the excellent red pullover, but the mustache may make an appearance for him sometime again.)





As promised, here's the mustache:
My Dad working out, with my help. (The early 90's striped sweater is en vogue again too! hooray for fashion!) This is my favourite picture of Dad.

With Brent Vanderveen, my brother, growing up on the beach at Killbear. "The beach is that way."














Yes Ben, I do have the muscle development of an 8 year old girl.





Here's My brother Derek and I, at a cottage he worked on for many months. As you can see, this is a photo of the stage in my life in which a great deal of hair was needed, for the obvious purpose of rocking out.









Rocking out.
































My family, as of this summer. There are a few new additions...