my tiny culture

Today I had class. History and Structure of the English Language. If it sounds difficult, you're on to something.

My professor was talking about how we interact with other cultures linguistically, and how we often judge each other's intelligence and other things based on dialects.

This got me to thinking about my own culture. You know, the white Midwestern, I-Don't-Have-A-Culture culture. Like my previous blog about stereotypes, my culture is a lens through which I see the world, cracked as it may be. I am constantly trying to temper this lens and others lens I have acquired with the ultimate worldview, the Gospel.

I am amazed at my cultural smallness, and my inability to easily connect with other cultures because of the strong ties I have to the things of my own upbringing. My tiny, tiny brain starts to ache with all the -isms of this world, cultural customs, and callings. This realization has given me a new-found awe for the infiniteness of God. A God who knows every heart, every person, every tribe, every city, every culture. A God who knows everything, but is bound by nothing.

I will never be able to see things from God's viewpoint of my own volition. I wish there was a mountain tall enough to stand on and see the world accurately. I would climb it and wait for the clouds to part, and watch the sun shine upon the world's idiosyncracies, glories, and sins. Unfortunately, greats heights don't discern the heart of man or the mind of God.

Fortunately God has given me His Word, something I continue to study and wrestle with. He has also given me Himself through the sacrifice of His Son, and now I am His.

When I start from Scripture, rather than my culture... scales fall off my eyes. Things that I was fearful of before, whether death, people who are different than me, or even my own ignorance are declawed in the presence of an Almighty God. I'm amazed by His glory.