Cultural Lingo vs. Technical Biblicality

In American evangelical culture, we tend to say some things differently than society at large. For instance, “PTL!!!!!!” (praise the Lord) commonly replaces “OMG!!!!!” online.  Lately there are some phrases that I’ve been called out on based on their anti-theistic tones. Here’s a couple:

“We’ll make it work.”

“Make it a great day.”

“Crossing my fingers.”

“Good luck.”

Good luck is certainly the most common one I’ve been chided for. Admittedly, a significant percentage of repudiations I’ve heard have been in the interest of sassiness at least in part, but even that displays the discomfiture many feel about it. Here’s the rub: why is it worth chiding for? 

Think about the phrases above. Each either suggests a randomness to human experience, an individuals’ sovereignty in his own life, or both. Both of those concepts  are thoroughly rejected by the Scriptures. The latter two phrases have roots in very old pagan superstitions. And so, last week a young man responded to my “good luck with that” by saying gruffly, “I don’t believe in luck, only in the power of God.” To be honest, I was somewhat offended, which is neither here nor there, except that it got me thinking about whether we’re wrong to use such anti-doctrinal flippancies. 

Personally, I can’t see not using many of these common expressions. We still live in this culture, and must communicate with it. As it stands, saying “may the Power of God make things go well in your endeavor” (or any less-akward version you like) will not communicate what you mean it to in a wider cultural context. “Good luck,” more than anything else, means “I care that what’s about to happen to you goes well.” Very few people actually think you are superstitiously bestowing luck on them. Yet the “Power of God” version is more likely to say “I really wanted to fit God into this conversation even though it says nothing about what I’m feeling.” 

You tell me, which is better?

Post-script:

This afternoon I was listening to [enter evangelical saying] (don’t judge) my club/dance Pandora station. Basshunter’s “I Can Walk On Water” came on (again, don’t judge) and I found it very encouraging. True to Basshunter’s style, the only words in the song are “I will never be afraid again / I will keep on fighting till the end / I can walk on water, I can fly / I will keep on fighting till I die.” Yes, this can be easily seen as a self-focused “I am god” type song and I’m pretty sure that’s what Jonas Altberg intended. Yet, personal encouragement is widely used in scripture, even by God himself. So, if I’m having trouble understanding why life is the way it is, I don’t see anything wrong with having a song influence my determination to keep on - even if it doesn’t mention that I can’t without God’s help.

Richness Via Chant

Night before last, SG introduced me to Gregorian Chant.  Not that I hadn’t listened to it before, but never to actually experience it.  We sat together, one sister helping another through a difficult time by just being, and allowing the music to enter our souls.  

I have never been so affected by music.  A different kind of world, worship, prayer and emotion touched my soul.  In this world, the pace was observant, sensorial and wondering.  Emotion responded unfettered, accepted, essential.  Worship followed by acknowledging the understanding of God gained by the new (or old) pace.  Prayer was deep; a warm blanket combined with a cool spring.  

Last evening, I put the music on again, and read through a prayer from The Valley of Vision.  “Read through” is a crass use of terminology, though, for “pray through” or “meditate on” are more appropriate.  I never understood meditation.  Whenever I tried, I basically ended up thinking so hard I stretched my intellect until it was by no means what we refer to as “meditative,” but rather stressful.  Yesterday was different: I experienced that prayer, meant it, believed it.  I chewed on it, digested it, not as a mental exercise, but as a joint function of heart and mind in the soul. 

Applying to my activities the world communicated by Gregorian Chant brought this about, and I want to keep experiencing God in this manner.  In fact, to live in this way appears a wonderful alternative to majority western culture.  Of course, intellect must apply, and sometimes primarily, but I would like to learn to walk passionately through life sensorially observant and simply contemplative.  It may be slower, but oh, how much richer!

Perhaps a former music major has run away with her thesaurus.  Perhaps a theology major has turned mystic.  

Perhaps the happy-faced intellectual understanding of God so prevalent amongst evangelicals truly misses out on rich stores of interaction with God.