My Life at the Library

Yesterday I gave you a sneak peek into my life at the gym.  Today, I give you the sequel: my life at the library.

You know how some days you're super productive and get things done and feel awesome about it, and how some days you just aren't feeling it and even the smallest tasks become more difficult than necessary?  Today was definitely the latter of these two alternatives.

Welcome to the library.  Step one, return a stack of books about Christian education in the African American church.  Walk up to the desk, no one's there.  Oh wait, here comes David.  David is one of my classmates, and he's from Korea.  He's quite nice, and always greets me with an enthusiastic smile, but occasionally I have a bit of trouble understanding what he's saying because of his accent (and he, in turn, occasionally has a bit of trouble understanding what I'm saying).  I put my books up on the counter.

"Hi David!  I'm just returning these..."

"Ah okay.  May I see your ID?"

I dig out my ID and hand it to him.  I always forget if that's necessary for turning in books or not...guess it is.

"Celia, you choose your classes for next semester?"

*insert random chit chat about class schedules, the fact that I'm a CMM student and not an MDiv student, and the general state of my friendships, with confusion on the part of both parties*

David reaches for the roll of stickers.  "Yes, okay.  August 24th."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I'm returning these books, not checking them out."

Blank stare. "You...don't want them?"

"No, I'm finished with them.  I'm returning them."

"You don't take them?"

"No."  I pick up a book off the top of the stack, and put it back down, "I'm done with these books.  I had them, and now I need to turn them back in.  Give them back."

Understanding dawns on David's face.  "AH, okay, I'm sorry."  He starts scanning the books back in.

"That's okay, I'm sorry, I should have stopped you earlier."

And, scene.

Books "successfully" checked back in, I wander off to the Biblical commentary section, wondering if it's possible to check a book out twice, and if I would therefore need to check the book back in twice, and if I'm going to wind up with some obscure fine for an "overdue" book that was actually turned back in.  Oh well.  Scanning the commentary shelves, I locate the commentaries on 1 Corinthians, choose four that look promising, and continue into the room to find a study table (the commentaries are along an entry hallway to the Green room).  Two steps later, I stop abruptly.  All the tables are full.  I'm now one of those awkward people who stands looking about the completely occupied room and is then forced to do a 180 degree turnaround.  It's not an unusual occurrence given that the library study rooms don't connect, but it's still a relatively awkward moment for all those involved.  Defeated, I turn around, and walk back to the foyer.  My other options are the Red room or the Blue room.  The color red seems particularly stressful today for some reason, so I continue on to the calming chalky tones of the blue room.

The undergrad students who flock unbidden to the theology school library glance at me quizzically as I walk in with my stack of books.  I realize that this library is close to several undergraduate dorms, and  I realize that it's worlds prettier than the main SMU library with its aforementioned colorful rooms and colonial crown molding and window shutters...it's still a bit of a pain to have a bunch of giggly undergrads in gym attire or flouncy sundresses taking up library tables when you've got a 10 page exegesis to write.  But, all the tables aren't taken, so I choose one, switch on the lamps, and set up research camp.

The paper I'm working on is for my New Testament class, and is an exegesis of 1 Corinthians 7:17-24.  An exegesis, for you non-seminary kids, is a critical interpretation of a religious text that pulls from the text itself and scholarly commentary thereupon, and not from things that crop up in your head or ideas you want to prove (that's eisegesis, and the mortal sin of seminary studies).  1 Corinthians 7:17-24 is a passage in Paul's letter to the church at Corinth, telling them not to get their undies in a bunch over their social position because it doesn't stop you from being a Christian or from serving God.  He specifically mentions gender, ethnicity, and slavery issues.  I've already consulted four books on this passage, including one in French that ended up being the most useful of the bunch.

The book on top of the stack is "Ancient Christian Commentary", so I pick that one up first, flip to the appropriate section, and immediately have flashbacks to last semester when I got all frustrated with this set of commentaries.  The term "ancient" in the title should give this away, but this is commentary from the ANCIENT church writers...people like Origen and Pelagius and several other people who wrote important things but were deemed heretical by the Church.  Considering we're supposed to consult sources from the 1990s onwards, and considering that I don't want to get into a squabble about who was heretical and who wasn't in the 2nd century, and considering that I don't want to get labeled as a Pelagian, I shut the book and push it off to the side.

As non-helpful as the first book was, the second one, the "Sacra Pagina" commentary, is brilliant.  It has a TON of information not just on the structure/meaning of the passage, but of the historical context, specific word studies of important terms, and tells you more about 1 Cor 7:17-24 than you ever wanted to know.  Ten minutes into typing direct quotes into my research document, I know that this book DEFINITELY is telling me more about the passage than I wanted to know...but that's probably exactly the amount that my professor wants, so I keep typing.

I see movement across the room...there's an enormous black cricket walking across the floor.  Gross.

Back to typing.  I shift the book, and my headphones pop out of my computer, playing my French pop music of choice to the entire room, albeit rather softly.  I quickly find the cord and shove it back into the headphone jack.  Glancing around, no one seemed to notice the dulcet tones of Emmanuel Moire pervading the otherwise silent atmosphere.  Anyway, most of the other students are plugged in to their own music...except the woman next to me.  I try to furtively glance her way without being too obvious.  She has a Perkins water bottle.  She, like me, and unlike the undergrads, belongs here.

Back to typing again.  "...7:17-24 constitutes a distinct literary unit set off by the literary device of inclusio or ring construction..."  The woman next to me is looking at me.  Am I typing too loudly?  My college roommate always made fun of me for typing too loudly.  I carefully glance over at her...no, she's just looking at her computer.  Okay, back to typing.

"...the pericope, a digression embedded as element B within the A-B-A' structure of chapter seven is itself chiastically structured..."

Holy crap, the cricket is right beside me.

I start wiggling my chair legs around, hoping to frighten it away.  The cricket just moves closer.  I wiggle the chair more forcefully.  Undergraduate #3 looks at me in confusion.  I stop rocking.  The cricket is sitting still, still facing my direction, probably just waiting for me to look away so it can crawl under my table and hop across my bare feet.  Not okay.  I have a flashback to the Zen center last week...they had a plastic cup sitting by the fireplace, with a sticker on it that said "to catch bugs."  No plastic cup available at the moment, unfortunately.  Carefully, eyes on the enormous cricket, I remove my flip-flop.  I'll just knock it away, I think. Lightly, not to kill it or anything, just to scare it off.  I swing the shoe lightly in the cricket's direction, and it sees it and immediately leaps about 4 feet away.  Good.  Just...stay there.

Back to typing.  My hands hurt.  This book is boring.  I feel like all these commentaries are telling me the same thing, and even though I have 10 pages of direct source quotes, I feel like I have nothing.  Stop lamenting your situation, Celia.  God has called you to this, right?  Has 1 Corinthians taught you nothing while you've been reading about it for the last 3 hours?  I press on, typing line after line until I  think my head is going to explode.  I finally finish that commentary, and push my way through the other two.  Victory.

My brain is completely fried, and my eyes hurt from staring alternately at small print and the bright computer screen.  I let my brain cool off with some YouTube videos for about 15 minutes, decide that I've had enough research for one day, and pack up my things.

I walk out the library doors, and am immediately greeted by lots of nicely dressed people hovering about the entrance to the chapel.  There must be a wedding going on today.  Sure enough, there's a white limo parked on the street, waiting to whisk the happy couple off to their new life together.  I shrug my backpack over my shoulders, and walk down the stairs in my jeans and striped t-shirt, my combination flip-flops/cricket shields making unglamorous slapping noises with each step.  I'm a bit underdressed for a wedding party; what WILL the bride think of my ill manners?  My head still hurts from hours of research, and the whole world seems slightly out of focus.  An attractive groomsman comes into focus out of the corner of my eye.  He's looking in my direction, smiling.  Could this be my soul mate, right here on my campus, tuxedo-clad and waiting to whisk me off in that white limo, causing scandal to the bride and groom but not caring a bit because it was love at first sight and he's Mr. Willoughby and I'm Marianne Dashwood and we don't care what the world thinks of our naive and unspoiled love?

Sorry, attractive groomsman.  1 Corinthians 7:17-24 just told me over and over again to stay in the situation in which I was called, not getting all upset that I'm single and not trying to change my social position by marrying the first good-looking guy in a tux that I pass upon exiting the library.  Besides, Willoughby had a scandalous past and gave up on Marianne in favor of a woman with a good fortune.  So much for naive and unspoiled love.  No, attractive groomsman, I'm better off without you.

And anyway, I have an exegesis paper to write.