Love, faith and imagination

I wish I could be saying right now that I am back and refreshed after a long break from blogging (about 3 months now), but I am actually feeling a bit sick and anything from refreshed, despite being on holidays. But I thought I would write again anyway. So let's get back onto thoughts of love.

In my last post I spoke of love as a sense; something which can comprehend in another that which evokes our love. I have been reading a book by Caroline Simon (still) which talks about the role of imagination in love. She seems quite influenced by a single thought from Simone Weil about the good Samaritan who actually stopped to help the person bashed and bloodied on the side of the road.

"One of the two is only a little piece of flesh naked, inert, and bleeding beside a ditch; he is nameless; no one knows anything about him. those who pass by scarcely notice it, and a few minutes afterward they do not even know that they saw it. Only one stops and turns his attention toward it. The actions that follow are just the automatic effect of this moment of attention. The attention is creative. But at the moment when it is engaged it is a renunciation. this is true, at leas, if it is pure. The man accepts to be diminished by concentrating on an expenditure of energy, which will not extend his own power but will only give existence to a being other than himself, who will exist independently of him. Still more, to desire the existence of the other is to transport himself into him by sympathy, and as a result, to have a share in the state of inert matter which is his." (From Waiting for God by Simone Weil).

This excerpt points to the moment of comprehension in which the Samaritan beheld the man and had love for him (pity/sympathy). The actions which followed were the response of love. Caroline Simon believes that the human imagination plays a role here also, enabling us to see beyond what is visible on the surface, to the thing of immense value which cannot be seen. She would possibly say that imagination plays more the role of seeing what could be rather than seeing what is, or to use words closer to her words, comprehending that this person has a story and a destiny rather than merely seeing what is.

There are so many aspects in this little excerpt that need to be explored: what is it that causes the Samaritan to stop and pay more attention? What is is he sees that evokes the response of love? Is there anything particularly Christian about this? What role does imagination have in this? What role does faith have? In what way is his loving response a 'renunciation'?

To provide a little more background into the story of the Samaritan a few things need to be noted: (1) Jesus was telling this story to answer the question of 'who is my neighbour' just after stating that the second greatest commandment was to love our neighbours as ourselves. (2) In the story two Jewish holy men walked by without stopping; a priest and a Levite. It seems these men were prevented from loving the man due to their conceptions of law and holiness, which prevented them from defiling themselves with anything unclean (e.g. blood). What they saw in the man was something that would defile them and render them unable to perform their holy duties. But the Samaritan was already despised by the Jews. Samaritans held a somewhat common religious background to the Jews and maintained copies of the Pentateuch (first five books of the Old Testament) which they held as scripture, but they were a mixed race (i.e. impure as sons of Abraham). I am not sure if the Samaritan would be considered defiled by his understanding of the law by helping the bleeding man. By defiling himself there is certainly a 'renunciation' involved in acting in love. Even without defiling himself there is a sacrifice of time and money; a renunciation of his immediate plans and some of his possessions. We would say that there is often sacrifice in love, though it does not always seem like a sacrifice to give to someone else for their own sake.

To recast the story in today's terms, we might find the robbed man replaced by a homeless drug addict with his thumb out on the side of a road looking for a lift. Many cars with 'good' people drive right on by; they have to keep their kids safe in the back seat, they don't have any money on them to give him, he looks dangerous, and he could have hepatitis for all they know. In any case they are on their way to church or a family function and don't want to be late. While all the cars go past a taxi stops. The bum apprehensively opens the door and looks in to see the Arab driver looking back at him. There is a moment of silence as they look at each other and the bum explains he doesn't have any money for a fare. The driver explains there will be no fare and asks him where he wants to go. "To the city, where I can find shelter and food." Instead the driver takes him to his own house, lets him use his shower, gives him some of his own clothes, a meal and a bed. Introduces him to his family, and asks him about his story.

The bulk of people saw a dirty bum, worried about germs and violence, and felt indifferent or incapable of helping. But one man was willing to wear the cost (renunciation), whatever it might have been. Why? What did he see in the bum that others did not see? (or is my definition of love wrong and it is nothing to do with perceiving something that evokes a loving response). the taxi driver might have been a muslim, and thus his love was not 'Christian'. Does that matter? Is there a difference between Christian and non-Christian love. I know there are some (such as Bonhoeffer) who would say yes.

Is it by faith that we 'assume' there is something to love in some people? Is it by imagination that we 'create' something to love, or see what could be? Is it by mere arbitrary choice that we choose to love a person regardless of what we see (and somehow not manufacture the works of love without having the actual love)? Or is it by faith that we assume there is something to love in each person and therefore take the time to search for it, that we might evoke a genuine response of love? There are still some who would say we love because Christ first loved us; because he commands us to, and for no other reason. But I ask, what is it you are doing when you are loving this way? What is the love?

Perhaps there is a distinctly Christian love, as I am sure Caroline Simon will point out as I continue to read her book. She uses 'imagination' where I use 'faith', to acknowledge that each person has a destiny, she seems to be pointing to the position that it is the perception of the destiny that is the thing which evokes our love response. To put it another way, our destinies are given by God, it is his creative and redemptive work in us, and as we perceive God at work in the other, God-in-us joins in to complete his work. As we perceive God working in another (Christian or non Christian) we work with him. This is love's creative aspect, this is its Christian aspect, it is where faith and imagination are required (and hope, but I will look at that another time). It is where we need to see beyond what is plainly visible to that which is invisible, and to that which may not yet exist except in the realms of pure potential.

Here ends the chapter!

Read more...

...on to love

It has been a while since my last confession...

I have avoided this topic for quite some time now, feeling unqualified to write anything down on it. For me this is the most important topic, at the heart of the gospel, at the heart of human-human relationships and divine-human relationships. It is the topic at the heart of life. My plan is to just start writing, and refine the thoughts in successive passes and posts. Hopefully things will come to a point of clarity. In many ways the previous posts were a prolegomena to this, since all I am posting is words.

First up, a tentative definition:

LOVE:
noun. A spiritual sense by which we can perceive reality in a way that approximates God's perception.
verb. The act of sensing reality through God's eyes.

I have thought for some years now on the definition of love. From 'feeling' to 'verb' to 'regard for the other' to 'will that seeks flourishing of life'. From looking at loves expressions to its effects. I am coming to the thought that love is a sense for several reasons:

(1) Some years ago I heard tony Campolo speak of love as seeing through someone's eyes into their heart, and their heart reaching right back through to your own and gripping it. I found this to be a profound insight. To run with this idea we might imagine that, despite looking at many people each day as we walk past them in the street, there are times in our lives when we look at a person and find something in them that compels us to love them. What we think is our love for them is actually our response to what we see. But to identify love as the response it to have something that is mechanistic - simply present the goods before our eyes and we cannot help but love. In reality there is more to it than that.

Take for example the person we once loved but now cannot for some reason. Usually in these cases something happened that hurt us, or made us see something 'ugly', 'unlovely' in that person, something that we couldn't 'overlook'. Why is it that we look upon a drug addict, for example, or an adulterer, and we see a person who we cannot trust, a person with whom something is wrong and who we should maintain a certain 'safe' distance from? At the same time we look upon a cute little baby and can be filled with affection? Is this another mechanistic reaction, like instinct? Or is there more to it? I think the key to this scenario is the word forgiveness. A baby is often a helpless person, totally dependent, quite innocent, vulnerable, non-dangerous, a fresh 'heart' craving our love and compelling us to respond in love. It is easy for us to perceive a baby through the eyes of love. But drug addicts, adulterers, violent or aggressive people, even depressed people we find that we hold something against them, something that prevents us from loving them. Only when we can truly forgive them do we find that we can see them again through the 'eyes' of love. Only then can we deem them as 'worthy' to receive our love (again taking love as the response for the moment).

So, if love can be hindered by unforgiveness (and transgression before that), and if in the absence of those things (as well as the absence of our own fear and insecurities) we can freely look upon others with loving eyes, then love might not be the response at all, but the very act of perceiving that which illicits the various 'loving' responses.

(2) People often think they love a person soon after they have met them, but after they get to know them more they find that the person they loved was a figment of their imagination. To truly love a person you have to know that person truly (warts and all). This requires (a) that they reveal their true selves, and (b) that we are able to perceive and appreciate what is revealed. Thus the saying 'to know you is to love you', has a bit of truth in it. On the flip side of this coin, it is often only when we spend some time to get to know the real person that we find the fears and apprehensions we once had are not justified, and we often come to find a new respect for people who we might have dismissed on first impression. Love delights in the truth.

(3) I have never been convinced by the statement 'love is a verb, defined by its actions'. 1 Corinthians 13 speaks of many actions that a person can do for another, but they can all be done without love and thus amount to nothing. For the Apostle Paul as he writes to his church, the only thing that is important is the love itself. If you have love then the actions will flow, but to manufacture loving actions without having the actual love, this misses the point and creates artificial fruit without a tree. Therefore love must be something other than its expressions, it must be a source, a fountain. And yet what is the source, the point from which all flows?

(4) If love is the perceiving of something lovable in another person (or object?) then what governs this? Why don't we love everyone? Why don't we see something in everyone that compels us to love in the same way we look at so few people and are compelled to love them? What is the difference between one person and another, or is the difference inside us? In so many ways the things that stop us looking through the lens of love can be traced back to (a) unforgiveness, (b) fear and (c) selfishness.

(5) There are definitions of love that centre around the response we have when we perceive something loving, and definitions that approach love by love's goal, but this troubles me because if love's goal is to seek and act towards the good (or 'flourishing') of the beloved, then what exactly is that 'good'? In what way can love determine what course of action will result in good or flourishing, since we have such limited knowledge?

Therefore, the most workable starting point I can think of is the point at which a loving response is evoked in a person, that moment of realisation, of encounter, of confrontation with something beautiful, something of worth, something that compels our hearts to respond. The ability to attune this sense, to seek out such an encounter in each person we come across, to see that which is worth loving, this is the discipline of love. It must come down to a way of perceiving. So, is love a discipline, a commitment to 'know' each other? Or is it still the response to that knowing? If you see a baby and are filled with affection and a sense to care for and protect the baby, but then do nothing to stop a dog from attacking it, did you really love them? But in reality, if you really did have that encounter and had the realisation of love for them, would you do nothing?

I know there will be some Christians out there that would say love cannot work in this way. That we are all full of sin and so there is not anything of intrinsic worth in us to love, and that God loves us only by grace, though we don't deserve it. I disagree with this kind of thinking. But I think the argument comes down to the very nature of love itself, and how it is defined. I would dare to say that people who hold the view that there is nothing in us worth loving would need to hold the definition of love that restricts love to its actions, and not to its motives, which I think logically is an incomplete definition. Any attempt to get to the heart of love must comprehend its motives and causes. The best offering for the view that there is nothing worthy of love in us is the view that love 'creates' worth in the beloved - it creates something that is worthy of its own love. I'm not sure about that. It has merit but it just doesn't seem right. If I love someone, they already exist, and I love them for who they already are, not something I or my love has created. And if I was loving something my love has created, it would not be that person I was loving, but rather my own creation. To truly love a person, we must connect with what is there.

To be continued...

Read more...

Reflections from the other side

There's this blonde out for a walk. She comes to a river and sees another blonde on the opposite bank. "Yoo-hoo!" she shouts, "How can I get to the other side?"
The second blonde looks up the river then down the river and shouts back, "You ARE on the other side."

Read more...

The truth of it

Continuing my exploration of words and reality, it is time to consider how 'truth' comes into play. I was watching The Bourne Supremacy the other night, and came across a scene where an assassin who was thought to have killed Jason Bourne was summoned out of the nightclub he was lounging in to the door of the car of his boss. The window is wound down and the boss says 'your phone was turned off, what the hell is going on?'

'You told me I could have the month off." He replied.

"You told me Jason Bourne was dead." And he wound up the window and drove off.

A short and simple transaction of just a few words, but there was so much in them. Everything had been rested on the words the assassin had previously told him. He took his words as reality ("as gospel") and based a whole future path on that. But the assassin's words were not true, they did not reflect the reality, and thus the two characters integrated their lives and decisions into a fictional reality.

What struck me was the importance of being told the truth in order to make correct judgments. We need to be told words that we can depend on. We need words that are true, that we can make decisions on, that we can trust. We make decisions that can affect the rest of our lives, and those decisions are often based on the words we receive.

"We can only go on the information we have."

What the assassin said was actually true as far as he knew it, but he didn't know the whole story. If I go back to my previous example of the various news articles about the real estate market and interest rates, they are largely making claims based on limited information. They do not know the whole picture and therefore are incapable of making a truthful claim (truth-full). As far as they can report a trend, that trend may be true, but it is not the whole story. Any claim deduced from this cannot be considered truth.

And so, in a world of people with limited ability to grasp the 'whole story', it would seem the truth is inaccessible. If nobody can know the whole picture, if we each are given but a piece of the puzzle, we are left to guess how it fits into the larger puzzle. Perhaps indeed we ourselves are that piece of the puzzle, and we all wonder how we ourselves fit in. And yet, every single day we find ourselves trusting the claims and words of other people; people who are just as limited as us. When we face it, we are confronted with the fact that faith is necessary to do anything in this world.

I am sure we would all love to have a reliable truth that we can put our faith in. Words from someone who does not have the limitations we have, who knows the full picture, and who can therefore speak the truth. And I am sure that, logically, those words might sound very different to what we might have formulated from our own limited perspective, just as it would be quite strange for that assassin to have shot Jason Bourne and seen his car career over the bridge and into the water and then to say "I didn't kill him at all", and for that to be a true statement.

It is funny that when we think about it, we can accept that truth might even sound foolish to our ears, and yet still be true. The Bible claims that Jesus is the truth (John 14:6). It claims to be words from a God who knows the whole story and can thus speak words of truth, reliable words to put our trust in. And yet so many people find it foolish to consider those words as true. My heart longs for a true word to trust in. Such a word, by necessity, can only come from God.

Tell a man there 4 billion stars in the sky and he will believe you. Tell him a seat has wet paint and he will have to touch it.

Read more...

back to words

I didn't get any bites on my questions about what our church is up to, so I thought I would continue to meander along in my exploration of words and the communication of reality. I have had to step back this week and reflect on how this is affecting me personally, as I have noticed just how much we are reliant on words for our understanding of reality. To tell the story:

Adrianna and I are looking to buy a house, and this is a big commitment as many would know. Houses are very overpriced and unaffordable at the moment and have been for some time now, but we really want to get out and have a place of our own.

As we are in this space, we find that we are particularly attentive to news articles about what is happening in the housing market and interest rates and the economy in general, because these things affect affordability. Do we jump in as soon as we can because prices are going up, or do we wait because prices are coming down and will continue to do so.

I have found that the media is just as unreliable in reporting on housing as they are on any other topic. On the same day, one article will say house prices have come down 2% in the last month, another will say they are likely to come down 10% in the next year, another will say 'but wait, the reserve bank is going to cut interest rates so that will change', and then another will say, 'but maybe they aren't going to cut interest rates because employment figures show a growth in employment. All of these articles paint pictures of reality, but are not necessarily accurate or true, even though they are based on facts. They have the power to influence decisions, perhaps we should wait and see if prices settle and/or come down, and in the meanwhile build our capital so as to pay off less interest when we do buy. And perhaps this will lead to more houses coming onto the market, and thus more choice, as it starts to become a buyers market. But then, there are the reports that housing prices will continue to rise because of population growth and immigration which keeps the demand high.

And so, day by day, the facts we are given to make our decisions on are fed to us electronically with words and statistics, which paint pictures, which limit the options and set our focus and bias.

Alternatively, we could monitor the prices ourselves and look at trends, but we don't have access to what houses are actually selling for (just what they are listed for) unless we pay money for reports. So reality is mediated to us by various conflicting sources, and we have to make significant decisions from that information. This shows the power of the media to shape reality as they influence decisions of many people and shape the market. This is even more pronounced int he share markets, where people use mediated information to buy and sell, and rash decisions can be made, and crowd mentalities can be witnessed. The person who can 'mediate' reality and shape decisions has a lot of power indeed.

How do we assess what is 'true', how can we determine which article is 'reliable'? We have established that words have power to shape and influence our understanding of reality, and thus our decisions to interact with and change reality. We also know that if words conflict with other words about what that reality is then we need to decide what is true and reliable over what is false and misleading.

This problem brings us back to the garden of Eden once more, where Adam and Eve made a significant decision based on the words of a talking snake (yeh, nothing suspect there), which interpreted the reality before their eyes and 'deceived' them. As opposed to the true and trustworthy words of the God who created them, they chose to believe the creature instead.

On what basis can we trust the claims of one person over another? Or should we treat all such words with caution and seek to learn everything the hard way, through experience? In the case of the real estate issue, I do acknowledge that it is largely an area of speculation and trends, nothing is certain and it is all dependent on market forces, which are highly unpredictable. If this is the case, then is the speculations no better than the fortune tellers? Is it like the Oracle in the the film The Matrix, who asked Neo if he still would have knocked over the vase if she hadn't warned him about it?

I think we should wait until we find something we like for a price we are willing to pay, and just keep an eye on if prices are starting to come up again.

Read more...

The purpose of the pew

Our church congregation is trying to become more outward looking and not so much focussed on ourselves. We are adopting a metaphor of 'the front line of ministry' where we are to understand the Sunday morning services as a time of equipping us for mission on the 'front line'. The front line is defined as the place where the kingdom of God meets the kingdom of the world, i.e. our neighbours, workplaces, schools, kinder, shops, friends. In these places we are ambassadors for the kingdom of God. The place is described as the front line because it is taken to be hostile: people generally do not want to know or hear about Jesus Christ.

And so, if the front line is not the Sunday service, just as the church is not the building but the people, then what is the purpose of the Sunday service, and how is this reflected in what transpires during that time?

Historically, the Sunday service was a place where Christ is proclaimed, sinners are called to repentance, the gospel is preached, and Christians rejoice in song and commune with each other over the Lord's supper. The gospel is the most appropriate sermon and is to be drawn from or pointed to from any scripture passage that is being expounded, for this is God's call to the nations.

But if the Sunday service is not the front line, then is the gospel the most appropriate message to be shared there? While it is true that it is always edifying for a Christian to be taken back to the cross and its transformational power for their lives, in many ways if the congregation is made up of Christians behind the front line, then this message is literally preaching to the converted, and to what extent does it equip them for life beyond the cross (many Christians will wonder if there even is such a thing?).

In my understanding preaching (that is, proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ) is something to be done to people who do not know Christ, and its purpose is to reveal him and his love to them, requiring a response in their part. Teaching, on the other hand, is something done to Christians and is about discipleship and development of the Christian life. If our understanding of the Sunday service is that it is about equipping the Christian for the Christian life and ministry and mission, then teaching is perhaps more appropriate at the pulpit than preaching.

Similarly, what function does our singing have, and the communion, and the congregational prayer? I believe these all do/can work into the service of equipping, but is it clear in what way this is so? And in this same line, how interactive should the Sunday service be? Should it even be called a service? We have come so far as to refrain from saying ‘we are going to church’, which can evoke unhelpful images. What does saying ‘welcome to our service’ evoke? To me it suggests that people sit (or stand) in their pews and attend a service put on by a ‘ministry team’. If the Sunday meeting is a place of equipping, is this a service at all, or is it a ‘meeting’, or ‘gathering’, or ‘assembling’ (all verbs), or perhaps it is a ‘workshop’ or a ‘school’ (to use some nouns) or could we describe it as a ‘re-centering’, ‘re-focussing’, ‘re-membering’ (putting it in terms of desired effect). As I am exploring the power of words in shaping people’s encounter with reality, I wonder how much our words at church end up leading to confusion and mixed messages.

So what should we call Sunday mornings?

Should we move more to teaching than preaching?

Are we restricted to passage exposition (and a one-way message for that matter [no pun intended])?

How interactive should the equipping be?

Are there more useful methods of equipping than singing reading and hearing?

Three qualifications: (1) I am not trying to explore a general ecclesiology here, but to reflect specifically on what our congregation is up to and how we are going about it, and (2) I am also aware that the Sunday meeting is not the only place/venue/format of equipping that our congregation employs, and (3) that to some extent, as long as the Sunday meeting is open to anyone, there will be non-Christians participating and new Christians also, in which case it is not strictly a ‘behind the lines’ meeting.

Read more...

More on the realities of words

I have been thinking more about words and reality; both the objective reality that we accept by faith is concretely outside of ourselves, and also the subjective reality that appears to be located inside our awareness and 'occurs' as we subjects interface to and interact with that objective reality. And I have been thinking about how the objective reality seems so often to be mediated to us via words, and some would say even when we 'experience' that reality first hand, we still interpret and remember the experience through words. If this is true, then words constitute our interpreted reality.

The extent to which or words are accurate symbols of a common or shared experience of reality is the extent to which they can be used to communicate (and to 'share') that same reality to others. But let a Protestant try to talk to a Jehovah's Witness about the idea of the 'soul' for instance, and the meaning of the word is so different between the two that communication cannot happen, and the two cannot meaningfully share their experience and understanding of reality. I would say there are a lot of words, phrases and concepts that have entirely different meanings to many people, making communication of the deeper things quite difficult. And, thinking back to Nowen's epilogue, if someone has not encountered/experienced the reality behind our words then they will not have any meaning to them at all.

I am trying to think of the implications of this. Here are a few I can think of (just throwing thoughts out there, rather than stating categorically as a mature view):

1. If words are symbols that can themselves have different meanings to different people, we cannot assume that people will understand even if we formulate our sentences very well
2. We need to listen very carefully to people.
   
3. We need to listen respectfully and if something does not make sense we ought not to assume the person is wrong, but we should try to arrive at a full understanding of just what they are saying first.
   
4. When speaking ourselves, particularly of serious things, or things that go beyond the surface, we should probably try to speak in images that paint pictures for people to see what we are talking about.
5. If the images themselves are ineffective to communicate, we may need to 'show' the person experientially
6. If images are mere symbols (or metaphors) that point beyond themselves to a reality (or evoke that reality in the mind of another), then the words are not the reality itself. Therefore a statement is not true in and of itself, but only as it points someone truly to reality. To elaborate, just as a photo cannot capture the entirety of that which it portrays (without remainder), our words will never capture and fully embody the reality to which they point.
   
7. If 6. is true, then statements that seem to be in conflict can both be true, even if they oppose each other, because they are not designed to be absolutely true but to subjectively point to something (or an aspect of something) in reality.
8. A statement can only be said to be true when communicated in a way where the recipient understands the same meaning of the words as the speaker, and the speaker's meaning reflects the reality to which the statement points.
9. Theologies, dogmas, traditions, philosophies are all models; word-constructs of reality, and thus point to the reality but do not 'own' it as such. One way of putting this is that statements are images, or 'idols'. They are not the thing itself. Therefore, statements can have the risk of being treated as idols.
10. If 9. is true, then we need to be careful about our relationship to statements, and ensure that we love/worship that which is behind them rather than the correct word formulation.
11. Having said 10., words and statements are necessary to share.
12. By evoking an image from words we are actually creating a reality for a person to experience in their imagination, to 'see in their mind's eye' which will, hopefully,  provide the encounter necessary to fill the words with meaning.
    

I think back to the parables of scripture. Jesus spoke of the kingdom of God in parables. He spoke to a people who had already defined the meaning of the kingdom of God according to shared (though varied) expectations and hopes. Given this, and given that Jesus came to (re)define what the Kingdom of God was, he was unable to use those words (or the word Messiah) to convey the meaning and reality he came to teach and proclaim. So he used parables to 'throw beside' images of the reality he had come to reveal to the world.

In this sense, the words did not create the reality of the kingdom, but they communicated the concept of that reality to the hearers, and did so ONLY for those who could receive the words (See Matthew 13). And yet, by communicating the concept of that reality, did the words not invite the hearers to come and participate in that reality? Did they not create a 'land' for people to enter?

Going further in thinking about the power, and especially the creative power, of words I remember reading Walter Brueggermann's commentary on Genesis, where he explores the idea of God 'speaking' the world into being. God calls things into being, and the things 'listen' and respond in obedience. His theological exploration of this is quite good. He notes that, while God's call is sovereign it is "not coercive but evocative. It invites but it does not compel... thus, it may be resisted and unheeded." (p.18). I find it interesting that if the objective reality itself was called into being by words, and if all calling and vocation from God comes from words, and if even our wandering from God's reality can be described as an 'unheeding' of God's words (and a listening to the words of the serpent instead and receiving his mediated reality), then the creative (and destructive) power of words is far greater than I have previously understood. God speaks reality into being, and as we listen and receive his word by faith, we participate in God's reality. and yet, we have the ability to ignore his reality and understand the world in words of our own, in words and images provided by the media and a barrage of songs and sounds and ads and TV shows and movies and posters. An SMS can break a heart.

In this way, the word of God is very powerful, and very important to our life and peace, but I think in many ways the words of the scripture have become foreign to us and hard to relate to (I hear this from so many people who try to read the Bible but really struggle to understand it). The words themselves have been redefined, and the images have been lost (we have come a long way from understanding the significance of nailing one's ear to a door, for example). It is the preacher's (and teacher's) job to find good words to invite people into God's reality and help them to share in it. But I do think the crucial thing is for God himself to be revealed and encountered as the reality behind the words.

This thought evokes very strange ideas in my mind. Words could very well become doorways to God's presence (the 'sacrament of words'). the words which point to God are the words through which God reveals himself, and thus the words are a doorway to communion with God. How many of us can speak of encountering God himself when reading his word?

Read more...

Development on biofuels

If you have read my post does biofuel kill people?, then you might be interested to read this article in today's The Age newspaper online. Seems the UK has wisened up, hopefully others will follow suit.

Read more...

A word about our focus and the locus of reality

As I continue to reflect on the concept of 'words' and of 'presence' I have read an interesting post on Open Source Theology that asks an interesting question: do our words reflect or point to that which exists outside and beyond them, or do they, by being spoken, evoke a reality? I suppose from a Biblical perspective this question goes back to Genesis and Adam's naming of the animals. The question is whether Adam studied the behaviour of the animals and named them in accordance with their behaviour and function, or whether he actually prescribed their function and purpose in the act of naming them.

I understand this is actually a topic of debate in the philosophy of language, and it fascinates me. Our words communicate the shared reality in which we live, but to some extent they shape that reality. Our words 'create' and 'evoke' images in people's minds, and thus guide their focus. Qui-Gon Jinn speaks these words to the young Anakin Skywalker: "Your focus determines your reality." To what extent is our reality determined by the external world around us, and to what extent is it determined by our mind's reflections on that external world, and its foci?

As we communicate a picture of reality to others, and as they accept that picture, it becomes reality in all actuality for them. The extent to which that picture is an accurate portrayal of the external world can sometimes be irrelevant - the words alone are powerful enough to influence important decisions, to bring to tears, to bring joy, and sometimes even to kill. In fact, people have killed themselves over mere electrons on a computer screen because those electrons represented words, which in turn painted a picture in the mind of the reader, which in turn manufactured a 'reality' that was unbearable to them, that in turn tipped them over the edge.

Thus, even if words are merely representative of reality, and even if they are completely false representations of 'reality' they can have the power of life and death. Even in this way words actually create reality inside the one who receives them. And along this line of thinking it seems that the locus of reality is actually inside the mind rather than in the world outside us.

Could this very post alter someone's perception of reality? And in doing so could it alter their attitude and behaviour? And if it changed their behaviour would it have, in fact, altered reality?

If people were aware of the power of their words would they choose them more carefully? Would they use them for good? Would they use them to assist people to focus on what is good for them and good for others? Would they use their words to build people up, to transport them out of their depression, to take them to a place of beauty?

What is the limit of the power of words?

Read more...

Does biofuel kill people?

Following on from my last post, I read an article in The Age newspaper today which alarmed me:

"The biofuel boom is diverting grain, sugar and oilseed crops from dinner plates to fuel tanks. Indeed, biofuels have forced global food prices up by 75%, far more than previously expected."

and goes on to state that as a result:

"The World Bank estimates that rising food prices have pushed 100 million people worldwide below the poverty line."

So, while Fuel companies may be promoting biofuel as a clean, green, 'feel good' alternative to petrol, it may actually be far worse for the world than straight petrol! I suppose this is one of the things I had in mind in my last post. Changes to our living as simple as the things we buy can potentially have a far greater impact than if we sell our houses and give the money to the poor.

I also confirmed that the world's poor are likely poor due to exploitation. I found two good sites on this topic through the world vision newsletter called Don't trade lives!, and Ethical consumerism,which may be worth checking out. The second site goes down to the level of rating different brands on their ethical production.

Just a few thoughts on some practical choices we can make for the better of our race and environment.

Read more...

Beyond Borders

"Whoever has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?" (1 John 3:17).

Tonight we watched a movie called Beyond Borders with Clive Owen and Angelina Jolie. It is a 'love story' set amidst aid work in war-torn countries that has some interesting and thought-provoking aspects. The wealthy Sarah Beauford is inspired by publicity stunt at a several-hundred-dollar per head charity function she attended. The passionate Dr. Nick Callahan parades in an Ethiopian refugee and asks why the organisation hosting the event has cut funding to the project supporting the child's village/camp. Sarah goes off with about $50K to deliver food and medical supplies to the camp and we the audience are confronted with the realities of life that about 50 million members of earth's human population face.

While the film, in true Hollywood fashion, then goes on to marginalise the refugee aspect to make the love interest the main focus, we the audience are left with the images of the plight of so many people and, if we have any heart, cannot help but to be moved to some extent. Perhaps the director used the images of Sarah's extravagant wealth back home as a contrast mechanism to the situation of the refugees, but it seemed that she was actually a selfish person, more concerned with her love for the doctor than anything else, including her own kids. She did not alter her way of life or her consumption after being confronted with what she saw, and I think in the end we are much the same.

After seeing movies such as this one, and others like Hotel Rwanda, Water, Blood Diamond, etc. what actually changes in the way we live? Why is it that the image and knowledge of human beings suffering does not move us to love them, and to act? I am very challenged and disturbed by this thought. As a Christian especially I hear the words of my God:

"Whoever has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?" (1 John 3:17).

It was only today that Adrianna was asking me if God has a will for us buying a place to live, and which property would be a more godly one to buy? It was also today that my pastor was talking to me about Christian worldview and integrating it into our lives (so it is not just something partially formed in our minds). I think this is a big issue. After all, are our Christian worldviews Christian at all? If a worldview is an underpinning understanding of life that informs and directs our attitudes and decisions then our life would reflect that worldview. Yet what I see is not lives that reflect the teachings of Christ, but lives which are not much different from anyone else in the western world. Sure, it is less likely for a Christian to get 'plastered/smashed/hammered', but apparently it is just as likely as any other person for a Christian to get divorced or commit adultery, or lie, cheat, steal. And even if we were able to live without any of these sins the world would be a better place, but in reality this is just a diversion from a more serious issue.

If our God is the God of love who commands us also to love one another (1 John 4:7-21), and if love is expressed in concrete acts such as the apostle John as described above, then why are we unaffected when we see our brother in need, and why does nothing change? How can we preach God's love in Jesus on one hand and ignore this injustice on the other?

Getting to the heart of the immediate problem, what is the godly thing and the right thing to do now in light of being confronted with the knowledge that there are millions of people suffering and starving? Would it be more godly not to buy a good house but to get the cheapest thing we could find and give the rest of the money away? Or would this be just a bandaid solution? Or again, even if it was a bandaid solution and would not make any lasting difference, would it still make a difference to one person (like the parable of the starfish)?

Is it best to give continuous, sustained small gestures in the hope that the collective result of these will make a difference (e.g. sponsor children, or regular donations)? Or is it more about getting to the heart of the problem: Why are these people starving and suffering in the first place? It seems to be a combination of local and global politics, exploitation of the third world by first world countries, third world debt, drought and natural disaster, war and corruption. At the heart of all these also is human greed and dehumanisation of our fellow human beings, i.e. people becoming reduced to a means to an end.

Is it a matter of putting more pressure on our own government to act and, for our part, being willing to make sacrifices at a national/state level in the way that our taxes are used? Would we be doing our part for global warming if we spent our disposable cash on foreign aid rather than the latest gadgets and passing thrills, and if we cut back our consumption so that others could also eat and have shelter and medicine?

Can organisations such as Tear Australia provide solid options to help, or are all our small gestures only actions to appease our consciences? Should we be appeasing our consciences at all, or should our motivation be pure compassion, real solidarity with our fellow human beings?

This is such a difficult problem, and I think a lot of people struggle with how to respond. Doing something is better than doing nothing, but is there more that we can do than something?

I would appreciate some honest feedback here!

Read more...

Nouwen's epilogue

We have finished Henri Nouwen's Life of the beloved and it had a kind of sad ending (not that I want to ruin it for anyone but... moohoohaha). The book was written as a personal book for his secular Jewish friend to explain clearly the things of the spiritual life, which he explains in his prologue. The epilpogue reflects on how, after the book was finished and he sent it to his friend, Henri went to visit him and received his feedback, and found that it hadn't hit the mark.

As I read the book I myself had wondered if the words he used were too alien, even though they were not strictly 'Christianese' (for his main words were 'beloved, taken, blessed, broken, given', and he spent about a chapter explaining each word), at the end of the day his friend could not move beyond the words to the reality behind them. They were indeed alien to him.

Henri lamented that after years of sharing together he still could not find the right words to convey life in Christ. I suppose if words are mere symbols that represent a reality (and I am aware that this is something much debated in current philosophy of language), and if that reality is at the most basic level an 'experienced' reality, then those who have not yet experienced it will not be able to fully appreciate the meaning behind the words. I think this is the thesis that Hans Urs Von Bathasaar was presenting in his Love alone is credible (a very hard read!), and perhaps also what Karl Barth was getting at in his theology of revelation. Only as we personally encounter God as he reveals himself to us can we grasp the reality to fill the words with true meaning. Outside of God's self-revelation words are empty symbols. Revelation is thus not so much a cognitive process as a whole-of-person experience. It is an encounter with the true 'presence' of God (there's that word again). Ironic, then, that God reveals himself in his 'word' (John 1). But perhaps it is not so ironic if that 'word' is actually a person that we encounter personally.

If this is true, then perhaps presence is more important than words. But, by the same logic, the comments of anonymous against my previous post may suggest that as the words of the Gospel are presented, the listener encounters the real presence of God himself, coming to fill the words with meaning, since the words are 'true' and thus have a reality 'underwritten' by God's own presence, so to speak. It is as if the words of the gospel are the locus where his presence dwells and is manifest to people.

But at the same time, the Bible stresses that Christians are the special locus of God's presence on earth, his 'temple' so to speak. It is this idea that I would like to explore much further.

Read more...

Blind love?

Some say love is blind, but I wonder if love actually enables sight? That is, is there a kind of knowledge that is only gained through love, which cannot be perceived without love? Is it true that there are truths that can only be grasped through by the heart? As someone has said ' the heart has its reasons which reason knows not'.

I was reading some reflection on the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37) by Caroline Simon, and the way it was worded struck me. She writes 'The priest and the Levite are blind to what the Samaritan sees, for they lack the love that leads to compassion' (p.13). She then quotes Simone Weil's comment: 'Humanity does not exist in the anonymous flesh lying inert by the roadside. The Samaritan who stops and gives his attention all the same to this absent humanity, and the actions which follow prove that it is a question of real attention' (p.13).

I am interested in people who speak of love as that which enables us to look upon people differently, to see things which, without love, we are unable to see, and to be transformed in our thoughts and deeds by what we see. I think there is a lot bound up in this. It means being truly present to the other, and also truly perceiving their presence. The encounter with true 'presence' is something that is deep and touching, something that can 'grip' our heart. Often we do not give our true presence to people. Our minds are elsewhere, 'busy', or through some form of subliminal rejection we choose not to fully listen, and certainly not to look beyond whatever facade we are 'faced' with. But giving our true presence and beholding the other 'lovingly', we may see through their facade to their true presence.

If we do this, if we offer our full presence and manage to glimpse the other, will we find something that compels us to love? That is, is there something in that person that is intrinsically lovable, love-worthy, lovely? Or is is, rather, that our love 'creates' that value in the other?

This, of course, has significant theological assumptions and implications, e.g. Does God's love see in us something of value to be loved, or does it create in us that something, i.e. love completing itself in the other? I would tend to favour the former: that love perceives a worth which already exists in the other. In this case, it is love that enables us to see it.

Read more...

Life of the beloved

Adrianna and I have been reading the book life of the beloved by Henri Nouwen, a Jesuit scholar who left YALE to work with mentally handicapped people in the L'Arch community. He writes simply and profoundly, and I find his work inspirational. His basic premise throughout the whole book is that we are the beloved of God, and that if we can grasp this truth it will truly change our lives.

Some might find this kind of thinking as self-aggrandising, but the more I think about it, the more I don't believe this is so. It is actually one of the hardest truths to accept that God actually does love us, that we are the 'beloved'. A lot of people would actually be quite uncomfortable with this idea, or else shrug it off to 'get on' with their busy lives.

But I wonder, for all of our busyness, how empty our lives can be, how hollow. As captain Jack Sparrow said in Pirates of the Caribbean, 'The world's not smaller, there's just less in it.' Our lives are more busy but there is less in them. I know this feels true for myself. Perhaps we are busy trying to make something of ourselves, trying to become successful, respectable, even enviable, and maybe, just maybe lovable.

And yet most of us will have had experiences in life that tell us we are not lovable. Rejections, break-ups, betrayals, loss of jobs, humiliations, fights and falling-outs. These can all make us believe that we are not worthy to be loved, at least not as we are. So we try to become better, to become someone else, to become worthy. After a while of trying, we can forget the very person who we are, and I think at that point we either have to keep distracting ourselves by the trivialities of life or else face up to our brokenness and emptiness. And I would bet that under the surface many of us can identify with this reality.

Into this context the truth that we are the beloved, loved by God himself, and therefore created lovable, is something that we would meet with skepticism and mistrust. But what if it is true?

Read more...

Why in the grip of grace?

ggNo grace is not a person!

If memory serves, I first saw the words 'In the grip of grace' on the front cover of a book by Max Lucado on the bookshelf of my friend Roz. Funnily enough I have never read that book, but its title really took hold of me, so to speak. I think it is a fitting image for those whose life is in Christ, and also of my life. It is an image that causes us not to focus so much on what we do in our relationship with our God, but causes us to remember that God himself has taken hold of us and carries us safely in his mighty hands. I chose it for the title of this blog because it reminds me of whose I am, and I believe that should be reflected in my life, my thoughts, my words and my acts. May the words of this blog echo the grace that God gives me.

There are a few passages that come to mind when I think of this image:

(1) In writing to the church in Philippi Paul speaks of his Christian life as one where he hasn't got everything made just yet, and he hasn't 'arrived' or achieved perfection. He says 'Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me'(Philippians 3:12). I think this acknowledges that God is the one pursuing us, and he takes hold of us in his love. God took hold of Paul and changed his life. This is recorded in Acts chapter 9, but it is good to start reading from chapter 7 for the fuller picture.

(2) Another passage which picks up on this imagery is Isaiah 41, which speaks to God's people scattered throughout the earth concerning God's care. From verse 9 it says:

^?9? I took you from the ends of the earth,

from its farthest corners I called you.

I said, ‘You are my servant’;

I have chosen you and have not rejected you.

^?10? So do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Again this passage uses the image of God's hand taking hold of us and 'upholding' us, a hand which is commonly identified as the person of Jesus, who sits as God's right hand in heaven.

(3) Finally, I think Paul asks a profound question along these same lines when he writes to the church in Rome and asks 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?' (Romans 8:35). It is comforting to know that we don't need to struggle to hold onto God, but we can rest safe in the knowledge that God has taken hold of us, and he will carry us. He loves us and nothing can separate us from that love. This is a promise of rest (Matthew 11:28). It is the knowledge that God has got my back, he is the one working in me to bring about good (Philippians 2:13).

I have much more to say on this topic, but I will leave it here for now.

Read more...

Hello world

I have been inspired by my minister Graham to start a blog. For quite some time I have thought that I wouldn't have the discipline to keep up the writing, but I now think I should at least give it a go. I am hoping it will encourage me to continue in exploring the wonders of God through writing down my thoughts and learnings, and perhaps interacting with others.

I will also write a bit about myself and what 'I' am up to and where I am 'at', and also about what 'we' are up to and where we are 'at'. By the we I mean my beloved Adrianna who shares with me our journey through life.

Let us see what becomes of these electrons...

Read more...