Literary Analysis: Pride and Prejudice

Jane Austen’s critically-acclaimed Pride and Prejudice follows the Bennetts, a middle-class British family whose sole obsession is marriage. Each of the five daughters live and breathe for the day they’ll have their own respective husbands, and even their parents’ marriage seems to revolve around those of their daughters. Whenever a man visits, the Bennetts strive for a very superficial piety, but when he goes home, they all seem to put their dignity away with the good silverware.

The story seems more popular among women, presumably because the main character, a young woman, is more relatable in her downfalls than the young man is in his vindication. As the title entails, Elizabeth Bennett struggles with her own pride, rejecting two proposals without reason, and the prejudices with which she judges men prove to be obstacles when it comes to falling in love. Every girl can relate to having been disappointed in a man at some point, and to be proven wrong in their prejudices would be a relief. Within the plot’s final relief lies a hope for female readers that maybe they were were wrong about men. Maybe one day, they’ll find a Mr Darcy.

Young men don’t seem to be as fond of the story, though, because there is nothing relatable about perfection. As a young man, I found that I had very little common ground with Darcy, which made it difficult to relate to his situation. Halfway through the book, some male readers might find they have more in common with Elizabeth’s tinted perception of Mr Darcy and his alleged character flaws. By the time he’s able to explain himself and is proven to be perfect, though, it’s clear that this is a story written by a woman, for a woman. Good and evil become stereotypes, and if a man isn’t perfect, he must be hiding something.

Written over two centuries ago and still popular, with eight film adaptations between the years of 1940 and 2005, Pride and Prejudice does carry some very valuable lessons about emotions and the way that our hearts relate to each other. I do think, however, that if Jane Austen were to go back and make one tweak to the final manuscript, she might have written the role of Mr Darcy to be a little less perfect out of compassion for men everywhere.

Mercy vs. Judgment… wait, it looks like they’re going to get along.

The book of James covers so many areas of life – Temptation. Money. Faith. Girls. And as a teenager with all of the above on my mind, I read James. A lot. One verse that catches my eye is 2:13.

James 2:13 – For judgment is without mercy to those who show no mercy, for mercy triumphs over judgment.

Certain passages seem to link themselves to pictures in my mind. Don’t ask why, but I always think of the last scene in ‘The Karate Kid‘ when I read this verse. My mind’s eye sees Ralph Maccio’s protagonist, with ‘MERCY’ written across his chest for clarity’s sake, duking it out with an opponent whose chest is – cleverly enough – labeled ‘JUDGMENT’. With a brilliantly choreographed praying-mantis move, Mercy pummels Judgment for the crowd of 20 parents to see, and the credits begin to roll.

This little triumph story works fine in my head, until I begin to study the nature of God. You see, the Lord goes to great lengths to describe that when His attributes get together, they don’t duke it out – they work together in the most perfect harmony the earth has ever seen. They work with a goal of absolute justice, and as unachievable as that may seem, we have a promise that the purposes of His heart will be fulfilled, one way or the other.

In order to begin to understand how He works, we’ve got to stop thinking about mercy and judgment as opposites. Not only are His mercies new every morning, but His going forth is established as the morning. There’s no stopping either one of them, but in the end, those who are granted mercy will triumph over the unrepentant.

That’s all the semi-wisdom I have on this, and I’m not going to pretend to have more. The end.

My Summer

It’s been two months since I’ve blogged, and rather than issue a Lettermanesque half-hearted apology, I’ll pick up where I’m at: the summer.

#1) School: In hopes of graduating sometime next schoolyear, I’m working my tail end off to get a science credit (by way of Marine Biology) and a couple others knocked out before August rolls around.

#2) Awakening Teen Camp: If you’re a part of my posse, you’ll know that this’ll be my 5th year helping in some way, shape, or form, with ATC. Since I was 12, I’ve gone from coffee boy, to manager of the concession stand, to office assistant, to the Camp’s Official Expendable Crewman. (In their defense, my bosses aren’t crazy about the title I’ve given myself, but they were the ones who let me pick it.)

The ambiguous title means that I coordinate airport shuttle runs, making a lot of phone calls – with the help of an amazing office staff – and printing entire rainforests’ worth of flight itineraries. On top of those responsibilities, I’ll be helping the Camp Media Team pump out daily videos in whatever capacity I can.

#3) Family: Let’s face it, the only reason you even found my blog is that you follow @rbohlender on Twitter. My family is – and will continue to be, into eternity – a huge part of my life. Aaaand unless you’ve been living under a rock the size of Cleveland, you know that my mom (@kbohlender) is very pregnant. Due July 12th with the doctor’s promise of an early delivery, the birth of my 4th sister, Piper Eden Key Bohlender, will mean scaling back for a few weeks to help my parents with the glorious adjustmen

That’s what my summer is going to look like, and if you’re reading this on August 30th wondering why it’s the latest post… now you know. I’ve got a little bit of a crazy life.

Television in 3 Paragraphs, and Why it’s Not for Me

With the exception of the occasional History Channel dorkumentary or Mythbusters marathon, I don’t like to watch television. I don’t look down on people that do, and it’s not even a conviction thing – I just have other ways of wasting time. From what I can tell, there are three types of networks, not counting news or weather.

First up, there is the type of network that creates drama for its audience. You know, in case they don’t have enough already. But given that most teenagers watch these channels exclusively, it could be argued that it they aren’t incredibly beneficial – when I’m changing a diaper and I’ve got a test to take on top of my 16-year-old insecurities, do I really need to know about the love triangle or whether or not they really get off the island?

Second on my list is the type of network that centers itself around real people. Real people who weigh 500 lbs. Real people who are buying their first house or redoing their neighbor’s kitchen. Real people with a crazy amount of children. The problem is, even though they’re real people… they’re on TV, and all they’re really doing is satisfying the audience’s need for community. If I can point that out as a 16-year-old, they must not be doing it well.

The third type of network that I’ve noticed are the home shopping networks, which are a little like eBay on shuffle. The audience is presented with a neverending list of products acquired from a closed-down Sharper Image. I don’t have a philosophical argument for why these a waist of time, but they don’t really do anything for stewardship. and if I’m ever having to look for some place to blow money out the wazoo, I’ve got eBay.

Poetry: Hosea 2

Oh faithfulness, the faithfulness, the faithfulness of Him
Even when I chase the others, He will wall me in.
He’ll hedge me in with thorns, and when I feel that sting,
I’ll open up my heart to him, and all the Saints will sing of
the faithfulness, sweet faithfulness, the faithfulness of Him

Oh brokenness, the brokenness, the brokenness of me,
He took captive thoughts, and then I went and set them free.
He made his love so clear, and I refused to see,
oh brokenness, the brokenness, the brokenness of me.

But the faithfulness, the faithfulness, the faithfulness of Him,
Covers up my nakedness; takes away my sin,
Pays for my rebellion; resurrects my inner man,
I say nothing can endure like the faithfulness of Him.

An Open Letter to Rebellion Everywhere

About a year ago, I found a recycling bin at my school chocked-full of old books. In it, I found a torn, written-in, and highlighted paperback titled Enjoy Your Parents. I found it amusing at the time, because if you’re at the point where you have to read a book on the subject, you’re pretty bad-off. Ask any teenager – reading is always a last resort. And while the book itself didn’t provide an ounce of helpful advice, I’m realizing now that anyone with the initiative to get the book (let alone highlight it!) was making a step in the right direction.

A passage that I hear daily is Malachi 4:6. You know it, it’s the one about the turning of the hearts, fathers to the children and vice-versa, lest He send a curse. Look it up if you don’t believe me. It’s in there. It wasn’t until I drew a parallel between this passage and Isaiah 28, though, that I realized the part I really have to play in holding back the ‘curse’.

Isaiah 28:17-18

I will make justice the measuring line and righteousness the plummet…  Your covenant with death will be annulled; your agreement with the grave will not stand.

What the Lord is saying is that His justice has always been a measuring line, but the righteousness of the earth determines where it falls. Where my heart is with my family – enter Malachi 4 – directly affects where I land in the Kingdom.

Long story short, covenants have never been known to be annulled peacefully. It’s not like they get lost in the archives – one side has to wage war on the other. Our advantage is that we have a heads-up: “You know that covenant you have with death? The treaties you’ve made with your sin nature? Those aren’t going to last, because one of you is going to get fed up with the other one day.”

Which side will wage war first? We’ve got the promise from the Lord of Hosts – one is going to cream the other, and you can be sure of that. Do I even know how to declare war? …because there just might be a solution: Turn our hearts to our fathers.

Even if you have a great relationship with your family, Malachi 4 assures us that serving our parents will hold back judgment and usher in a spirit of Elijah. As the oldest of nearly seven children, this is great news. When I’m changing diapers and feeding babies, not only am I serving my parents, but I’m waging war against the principalities that would have had my sisters aborted. I’m not just picking a fight with death - I’m winning.

I don’t say this to lift myself up, because honestly, there have got to be a thousand people out there doing it better than I am. But my heart is filled with joy on this, and energy to encourage those my age: Do you want to see signs and wonders? Start liking your family. If the teenager can’t take a message home, how is he expected to deliver one to the ends of the earth?

Album of the week: Fiction Family

Jon Foreman of Switchfoot fame and Sean Watkins of lesser-known Nickel Creek collaborate to form the one-hit-wonder album Fiction Family. A welcome balance between Foreman’s upbeat songwriting and Watkins’ low-key acoustic skills, Fiction Family… well, it just makes me happy.

Available for $8.99 on AmazonMP3 and $10 on iTunes.

Highlights of the Trip

#1) Our daytime tours with Lou to places of prophetic significance in the LA area, including Angelus Temple, Hollywood Presbyterian, and Pronto’s Donuts.

#2) The first cup of coffee of 2009. I’m fasting coffee until my fourth baby sister is born, but treated myself to a cup of joe from Peet’s on my birthday.

#3) Moderating the webstream chatroom during the evening sessions. Due to some last-minute complications, our only webernetting option was the always-free Ustream, which comes with an un-shut-off-able chatroom. With the chatroom came a lot of questions about the cute drummer.

#4) Dropping my book from the dorm’s balcony and jumping into a mini-jungle to get it – without getting my shirt/tie combo dirty. I know, I’m awesome.

#5) Printing my boarding pass, checking my luggage, and getting through security at LAX in under 15 minutes. Like I said, I’m awesome.

#6) Jumping from behind the door and scaring the living horsedung out of Michael Dinsmore… 3 times in a row.

#7) Eating at this place three nights in a row. For free.

#8) Cabbage!

#9) Attending the night-guards’ little party. More details in the previous post.

#10) Hanging out in the antique bookstore. I left with a book by John R. Mott (of Mott Auditorium fame), a hefty Isaiah commentary, and another book that looks to be a rant against the CIA. All for $15.

Making some memories…

Let me just start out by saying that I am a people watcher. I know what you’re thinking – “Where I come from, we call those people stalkers.” But I don’t watch people in a creepy way – I watch them in a purely observant way. Earlier today, I tried to interpret a heated discussion in an LA coffee shop between two very Korean women. I’ve never spoken a lick of Korean, but it was fun to observe the two, and making up a story for them (which was probably more exciting than their actual story) helped me understand them, or at least their presence there.

The LAX baggage claim is an amazing perch for a people watcher. The guy in the leather jacket is a Russian spy who will steal a suitcase full of government secrets. The kid wolfing down his sandwich was stranded on an island and was just rescued by a freighter before the island disappeared (or was it moved?). The couple over there? They met on eHarmony – he’s heavier in real life, and her hair isn’t as shiny.

And so, as a people watcher, I find myself in the cafeteria of the Aylward cafeteria on the William Carey campus with four of the night guards. I suppose they should be night-guarding, but they look like they’re having more fun here. There’s a pool game going on. Someone’s cell phone is blasting mariachi music. A man wearing a Security jacket is sitting at the piano and playing Away in a Manger. His companions are singing along in Spanish, somehow oblivious to the mariachi music they just turned on. The thing I’m realizing here is that these guys are enjoying themselves. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this – it appears to have become a ritual. And 20 years from now, whether they still keep in touch, they’ll all have fond memories of the nights they skipped out on night-guarding and threw parties in the cafeteria.

There’s something special about memories. We like to reminisce, and we like to be remembered. History with friends is so important – it’s the foundation that we build relationships on. But when the entire friendship becomes a memory, it’s time to move on.

As an extravert, I’m gifted to know a lot of people. Because of involvement with theCall and JHOP, the years of helping run ATC, just being around the prayer room, and my outgoing personality, I have nearly 1100 Facebook friends, and if I go to a city, chances are I know someone there. But even of the 100-150 people I keep in touch with on a regular basis, there are probably fifty that provoke my heart to Jesus, and really only about twenty that make my heart feel alive.

Moving on is hard, but it’s part of connecting with new people. I will forever hold my memories dear, but I like the new people I’m connecting with, and I like the new direction the Lord is taking me.

Why I Fast

As a teenager, one of the most unnatural things I can do is to not eat. I understand that it’s hard for old people, too, but I’ve got years of growing ahead of me, and my body knows it. As I pursue fasting more, though, I’m becoming more and more convinced that my body is more on track with my soul than I give it credit for.

My hunger is not foreign. This means that tomorrow, as IHOP embarks on its billionth GBF, whether I glide through it with all the grace of a spirit-filled butterfly or crash and burn at the sight of my sister’s HappyMeal, I will feel hunger. It’s a part of who I am. I can satisfy hunger without succumbing to it, though, because desire isn’t my problem – where I direct it is.

Fasting gives me a vacation from my problems. I give my undivided attention to sustaining my body all too often, meanwhile leaving my soul out to dry. The problem is, they’re supposed to work together. Hunger can exist either as an emotional black hole, taking in all the entertainment and pleasure it can while circling the drain, or as a fountain of wisdom that’s willing to endure a headache for the Kingdom. I don’t know about you, but I’m choosing fountain of wisdom.

Finally, fasting gives me peace. I’m reading a biography on Martin Luther right now, and jacked-up as the man could be at times, a certain pearl of wisdom caught my attention. Near the end of his life, the pope was after Luther, who faked his own death and hid out in a friend’s castle for 3 months. Seriously, this guy had connections. Luther decided that he had to go into Rome one last time, and, removing the disguise, hit the road a wanted man.

In the dark, Luther stepped into a hunting trap that was set in the road by Roman soldiers. The soldiers dragged Luther by his feet the rest of the way to Rome. When asked how he had maintained his composure that night, Martin Luther said, ‘This is my isle of Patmos.’

What he was getting at here is that the most revelation doesn’t come from the safety of your buddy’s castle. In most cases, it’ll come from the confines of the isle of Patmos. Do you really want to know what’s on the Lord’s heart? Get yourself an Alcatraz and park your behind in front of Him. He’ll show up. When I’m hungry, I can channel the hunger towards the Holy Spirit, allow my burdens to be lifted and peace to settle in, because this is my isle of Patmos.