When will Tim Krabbe (Dutch writer) post again!? His unbelievably (i.e. you won't believe me if you're not into chess) fascinating site needs more attention... Tim, where are you?
Meanwhile, with no TEAM this week (half term) I am back on the e-mail correspondence chess. Charles is playing the Modern Defence and I'm not sure what White is up to...
1. e4 g6
2. d4 Bg7
3. Nf3 d6
4. Bc4 Nf6 (normally I go for a very early g4 and h4, so this counts as "moderate" for me)
5. Nbd2 c6
6. c3 b5
7. Bb3 Ba6
8. Ng5 0-0 (this is a good omen: after ...0-0-0 I usually find myself losing)
9. f4 c5
10. dxc5 (I am expecting ... dxc5, to which I must play 11. e5 if I am to keep my reputation as a slightly unbalanced attacking player)
I managed to lose 7 in a row against Charles ten days ago, so it really ought to be my turn to win (if you're reading this, Charles, please note...)
Saturday, 26 May 2007
Thursday, 17 May 2007
Saturday theology and the Tree of Life
The Saturday School of Theology is the latest offering from Christian Heritage. One morning a month, interactive lectures on historical theology from Chad VanDixhoorn, a British Academy fellow at Cambridge who wears fine bowties. Quite simply the best theology course I have been on in terms of its balance between academic rigour, ease of understanding, openness to discussion and freshness of material (most evangelicals don't know the first thing about church history, more's the pity). Of course we could go deeper, but as an introduction for the average Christian it is outstanding.
One of the topics that returns in the questions as well as in the lectures is the relationship between Adam and Christ. We have considered this in the early Fathers' approach to Christology, in the Ecumenical Councils, in the Augustinian-Pelagian debate, and I expect we'll look at it again this week when we turn to Aquinas and Roman Catholic understandings of fallenness. The crucial text is Romans 5.
Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned— for before the law was given, sin was in the world. But sin is not taken into account when there is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who was a pattern of the one to come.
But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God's grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! Again, the gift of God is not like the result of the one man's sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification. For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God's abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.
Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.
What has lightly vexed us is the nature of the humanity assumed by Christ. Was is 'fallen' humanity? Does this mean 'susceptible to death, decay, etc.' but not inherently 'sinful'? What did happen to human biology at the fall? Many of the questions have been prompted by a scientific thinker who is concerned about what temptation means. Was Christ really tempted in every way, just as we are (Heb 4:15) if he had a body that was like Adam's pre-fall body, not like our fallen body? Chad has been working with a distinction between two biologies, as it were.
I wonder, however, whether there is any need to posit two biologies. The two biologies model troubles those who believe in theistic evolution, especially those who also deny a literal reading even of Genesis 3 - but it causes other problems, too. Instead (and I am assuming at least a literal Genesis 3, if not the whole Young Earth creationism for the sake of argument, here), imagine that in the garden, Adam and Eve had mutable bodies, just like ours, bodies 'naturally' subject to decay and even death. What prevented decay and death was access to the tree of life.
Total reliance on God's word and his physical provision. Once they had sinned, access to the tree of life (via access to the garden itself) is one of the major sanctions. ...lest they eat from the tree and live forever... On this reading dependence on God characterised unfallen humanity just as it characterises redeemed humanity (and at a metaphysical, ontological level it characterises unrepentant humanity, too, if only they would realise it!). Thus we have no need of a two-biologies model to explain death post-fall. And Christ takes on human flesh in its mutability and (potential) subjection to decay/death - for without the tree of life (which was the channel of covenant blessing to those who obeyed God and relied completely on him, in other words Adam and Eve before the fall) we would/do all die. And of course the tree returns at the end of Revelation for the healing of the nations. Maybe for their feeding, too!?
Not a very clear exposition of my thoughts, but I do think there's something there.
While musing on this I came across this very thought-provoking blog. The posts on creation/evolution are very interesting. A wonderfully moderate tone! And he agrees with what I have been thinking about the tree of life! So I must be right... ;-)
One of the topics that returns in the questions as well as in the lectures is the relationship between Adam and Christ. We have considered this in the early Fathers' approach to Christology, in the Ecumenical Councils, in the Augustinian-Pelagian debate, and I expect we'll look at it again this week when we turn to Aquinas and Roman Catholic understandings of fallenness. The crucial text is Romans 5.
Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned— for before the law was given, sin was in the world. But sin is not taken into account when there is no law. Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who was a pattern of the one to come.
But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God's grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! Again, the gift of God is not like the result of the one man's sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification. For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God's abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.
Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.
What has lightly vexed us is the nature of the humanity assumed by Christ. Was is 'fallen' humanity? Does this mean 'susceptible to death, decay, etc.' but not inherently 'sinful'? What did happen to human biology at the fall? Many of the questions have been prompted by a scientific thinker who is concerned about what temptation means. Was Christ really tempted in every way, just as we are (Heb 4:15) if he had a body that was like Adam's pre-fall body, not like our fallen body? Chad has been working with a distinction between two biologies, as it were.
I wonder, however, whether there is any need to posit two biologies. The two biologies model troubles those who believe in theistic evolution, especially those who also deny a literal reading even of Genesis 3 - but it causes other problems, too. Instead (and I am assuming at least a literal Genesis 3, if not the whole Young Earth creationism for the sake of argument, here), imagine that in the garden, Adam and Eve had mutable bodies, just like ours, bodies 'naturally' subject to decay and even death. What prevented decay and death was access to the tree of life.
Total reliance on God's word and his physical provision. Once they had sinned, access to the tree of life (via access to the garden itself) is one of the major sanctions. ...lest they eat from the tree and live forever... On this reading dependence on God characterised unfallen humanity just as it characterises redeemed humanity (and at a metaphysical, ontological level it characterises unrepentant humanity, too, if only they would realise it!). Thus we have no need of a two-biologies model to explain death post-fall. And Christ takes on human flesh in its mutability and (potential) subjection to decay/death - for without the tree of life (which was the channel of covenant blessing to those who obeyed God and relied completely on him, in other words Adam and Eve before the fall) we would/do all die. And of course the tree returns at the end of Revelation for the healing of the nations. Maybe for their feeding, too!?
Not a very clear exposition of my thoughts, but I do think there's something there.
While musing on this I came across this very thought-provoking blog. The posts on creation/evolution are very interesting. A wonderfully moderate tone! And he agrees with what I have been thinking about the tree of life! So I must be right... ;-)
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
BHWE Monday
What is this? Some sort of diary!?
Anyway, typical grey bank holiday activities. With Kate's help I strung together a set of 15 or so 30-second excerpts (try typing that one quickly!) of classical music designed to express/portray/exemplify (I'm not going to go into the philosophy of art at this point, as I don't understand it!) emotions from very miserable up to moderately happy. This was to assist a history teacher friend from church who has asked her class to present their verdict on the debate over Southern Slavery in the US: how decent were the slaves' conditions, and how well off were they?
I trust that the kids will be able to make use of the opening 60 seconds of...
Bach, Brandenburg Concerto No.6, 1st mvt (busy and cheery)
Kabelevsky, Piano Concerto No.3, 1st mvt (madcap and busy)
Rachmaninov, Suite for 2 Pianos, Romanza (yearning and wistul)
Sibelius, Symphony No. 5, 3rd mvt (noble and positive, but laborious)
Brumel, Lamentations (ambiguous; reflective but no strong minors)
Bliss, Adam Zero, The Stage (ambivalent)
Dvorak, Symphony No. 8, 1st mvt (sad but sometimes hopeful)
Bach, Violin Sonata in D minor, Allemande (busy and fairly grim)
Tallis, Lamentations I (slow and mournful)
Glass, Facade (slow and mournful)
Doyle, Sense and Sensibility, Combe Magna (sighs and darkness, but not unmitigated)
Reich, Eight Lines (hammer and tongs)
Khachaturian, Piano Concerto, 1st mvt (melodrama, noise and brutality)
Brahms Symphony No.1, 1st mvt (relentless, slow, effort)
Brahms, Symphony No. 4, 4th mvt (crash bang, hard work)
Tchaikovsky, Symphony No.6, 4th mvt (despair)
What would your sliding scale of 16 have been?
Then I assisted Kate in sorting out all the photos we used to decorate our wedding reception almost 4 years ago, returning them to their albums. Nothing like procrastination to make a job ultimately very satisfying. And nothing like old university and family photos to make me misty-eyed, sometimes sad, usually laughing, and grateful to God for his goodness over the last 27 years.
While that was going on we watched Hitchcock's Notorious with one eye each (just as stylised as Rushmore though without surprises), were occasionally interrupted by visits from friends, visits to the garden centre and food.
Anyway, typical grey bank holiday activities. With Kate's help I strung together a set of 15 or so 30-second excerpts (try typing that one quickly!) of classical music designed to express/portray/exemplify (I'm not going to go into the philosophy of art at this point, as I don't understand it!) emotions from very miserable up to moderately happy. This was to assist a history teacher friend from church who has asked her class to present their verdict on the debate over Southern Slavery in the US: how decent were the slaves' conditions, and how well off were they?
I trust that the kids will be able to make use of the opening 60 seconds of...
Bach, Brandenburg Concerto No.6, 1st mvt (busy and cheery)
Kabelevsky, Piano Concerto No.3, 1st mvt (madcap and busy)
Rachmaninov, Suite for 2 Pianos, Romanza (yearning and wistul)
Sibelius, Symphony No. 5, 3rd mvt (noble and positive, but laborious)
Brumel, Lamentations (ambiguous; reflective but no strong minors)
Bliss, Adam Zero, The Stage (ambivalent)
Dvorak, Symphony No. 8, 1st mvt (sad but sometimes hopeful)
Bach, Violin Sonata in D minor, Allemande (busy and fairly grim)
Tallis, Lamentations I (slow and mournful)
Glass, Facade (slow and mournful)
Doyle, Sense and Sensibility, Combe Magna (sighs and darkness, but not unmitigated)
Reich, Eight Lines (hammer and tongs)
Khachaturian, Piano Concerto, 1st mvt (melodrama, noise and brutality)
Brahms Symphony No.1, 1st mvt (relentless, slow, effort)
Brahms, Symphony No. 4, 4th mvt (crash bang, hard work)
Tchaikovsky, Symphony No.6, 4th mvt (despair)
What would your sliding scale of 16 have been?
Then I assisted Kate in sorting out all the photos we used to decorate our wedding reception almost 4 years ago, returning them to their albums. Nothing like procrastination to make a job ultimately very satisfying. And nothing like old university and family photos to make me misty-eyed, sometimes sad, usually laughing, and grateful to God for his goodness over the last 27 years.
While that was going on we watched Hitchcock's Notorious with one eye each (just as stylised as Rushmore though without surprises), were occasionally interrupted by visits from friends, visits to the garden centre and food.
Monday, 7 May 2007
BHWE Sunday
Praise the Lord for another great day. A real answer to prayer. I managed to get through the tricky theological questions surrounding parables, with the help of a bowl of dodgy flour and a string of immitation pearls (priceless in the sense that I gave the word aged 7 - 'with no value' - a sense that persisted for many years...)
Celebration of the Lord's Supper - hurrah! Lots of great chat with people at church. Back home to feed 17 people, including several neighbours and a friend of ours from Japan who we hadn't seen for months. More answers to prayer and tremendous fun.
Could have carried on for a lot longer, but at 4pm rushed across Cherry Hinton to take a service at an old people's home that we visit every fortnight. Managed some lovely conversation with a couple of residents who are often unable to speak or communicate, and a really challenging conversation with one lady who is razor-sharp mentally, and sadly, still agnostic. Kate and she talk knitting and the gospel regularly, though.
Playing piano at the evening service and then off to a concert of contemporary music. Noisy and odd, but stimulating. Geoffrey Poole, Grieg (some unusual folk music that sounded very 20th century!) Ligeti, some Dutch guy for solo flute and also a big work by a friend, Edmund Bloxam (composer to watch in the future). Couldn't quite get my head round some of the sentiments in the programme notes, or some of the noises, but it was enjoyable nonetheless, and I'm always in awe of those who can string something artistic together coherently. And the concert kicked off with jazz piano by a good friend, Andy, who is a clarinet maestro but has been excercising himself at the keyboard over the last few years while allegedly training to be a doctor...
What an exhausting day!
Celebration of the Lord's Supper - hurrah! Lots of great chat with people at church. Back home to feed 17 people, including several neighbours and a friend of ours from Japan who we hadn't seen for months. More answers to prayer and tremendous fun.
Could have carried on for a lot longer, but at 4pm rushed across Cherry Hinton to take a service at an old people's home that we visit every fortnight. Managed some lovely conversation with a couple of residents who are often unable to speak or communicate, and a really challenging conversation with one lady who is razor-sharp mentally, and sadly, still agnostic. Kate and she talk knitting and the gospel regularly, though.
Playing piano at the evening service and then off to a concert of contemporary music. Noisy and odd, but stimulating. Geoffrey Poole, Grieg (some unusual folk music that sounded very 20th century!) Ligeti, some Dutch guy for solo flute and also a big work by a friend, Edmund Bloxam (composer to watch in the future). Couldn't quite get my head round some of the sentiments in the programme notes, or some of the noises, but it was enjoyable nonetheless, and I'm always in awe of those who can string something artistic together coherently. And the concert kicked off with jazz piano by a good friend, Andy, who is a clarinet maestro but has been excercising himself at the keyboard over the last few years while allegedly training to be a doctor...
What an exhausting day!
BHWE Saturday
Prepared (losing hair in the process) to do the 'Family Focus' at Rock the next day. Series is on questions people asked Jesus, and this one was on 'Why do you teach in parables?' I already knew I didn't really know the answer to that one, which is not the best position to be in when trying to think about how to teach young children.
After going round and round in circles regarding intellectual comprehension and spiritual blindness I decided on a two-fold approach. (1) Parables had great cultural relevance and immediacy and have great enduring mnemonic value. In themselves they embody as much as they exemplify; i.e. they reach the parts that lectures and propositions don't. (2) Jesus' answer in Matthew 13 focuses on the condition of his listeners. Either you hear with faith or you don't - and many of that generation didn't (at least not then, but maybe over the next few decades they did - Leithart, building on Rodney Stark, makes a reasonable case, followed up here). So the moral of that is, ask God for help in understanding Jesus' teaching, his life and mission, and for the strength to live in obedience, in the kingdom of heaven (which is what all those parables were about).
Needless to say, this was repackaged somewhat for the meeting!
Then it was nipping out to buy lots of food for Sunday before heading off to the idyllic westerly fringe of Cambridge for a concert I had organised for all my piano students. Everyone who played acquitted himself or herself extremely well. Even the most error-ridden performances were musically convincing and remained performances. We (me, Kate, and plenty of parents and siblings) enjoyed a handful of single-line pieces and other works up to Rachmaninov's B minor Prelude and Beethoven's 'Tempest' Sonata. I was extremely pleased with how they all did! And the venue worked a treat - a swish drawing room in Clare Hall with a light and noisy Kawai baby grand.
Got home dehydrated and collapsed into bed unable to move for an hour with a severe headache. Rather an odd stroke, and not particularly pleasant! Recovered enough to assist Kate with preparation for lunch the next day, and then to watch Rushmore. Heartily enjoyed this, despite some pretty fruity and tasteless verbal porn. It is very stylised, but also very believable. Bill Murray plays himself, as usual, and Jason Schwartzman is outstanding as the precocious, old-fashioned, other-wordly, yet unhappily hormonal and male teenager around whom the film revolves. Engaging and brilliantly observed, with not a whisper or a shot out of place.
After going round and round in circles regarding intellectual comprehension and spiritual blindness I decided on a two-fold approach. (1) Parables had great cultural relevance and immediacy and have great enduring mnemonic value. In themselves they embody as much as they exemplify; i.e. they reach the parts that lectures and propositions don't. (2) Jesus' answer in Matthew 13 focuses on the condition of his listeners. Either you hear with faith or you don't - and many of that generation didn't (at least not then, but maybe over the next few decades they did - Leithart, building on Rodney Stark, makes a reasonable case, followed up here). So the moral of that is, ask God for help in understanding Jesus' teaching, his life and mission, and for the strength to live in obedience, in the kingdom of heaven (which is what all those parables were about).
Needless to say, this was repackaged somewhat for the meeting!
Then it was nipping out to buy lots of food for Sunday before heading off to the idyllic westerly fringe of Cambridge for a concert I had organised for all my piano students. Everyone who played acquitted himself or herself extremely well. Even the most error-ridden performances were musically convincing and remained performances. We (me, Kate, and plenty of parents and siblings) enjoyed a handful of single-line pieces and other works up to Rachmaninov's B minor Prelude and Beethoven's 'Tempest' Sonata. I was extremely pleased with how they all did! And the venue worked a treat - a swish drawing room in Clare Hall with a light and noisy Kawai baby grand.
Got home dehydrated and collapsed into bed unable to move for an hour with a severe headache. Rather an odd stroke, and not particularly pleasant! Recovered enough to assist Kate with preparation for lunch the next day, and then to watch Rushmore. Heartily enjoyed this, despite some pretty fruity and tasteless verbal porn. It is very stylised, but also very believable. Bill Murray plays himself, as usual, and Jason Schwartzman is outstanding as the precocious, old-fashioned, other-wordly, yet unhappily hormonal and male teenager around whom the film revolves. Engaging and brilliantly observed, with not a whisper or a shot out of place.
Friday, 4 May 2007
Chess and eschatology
At TEAM on Wednesday Charles and I explored an odd line in the Dutch (he was Black). Slightly fewer wild and crazy games - a more mature approach, one might say (yeah, right) - and honours even.
1. d4 f5
2. Nc3 Nf6
3. Bg5 e6
4. e4 dxe5
5. Bxf6 Qxf6
6. Nxe4
intending a swift 0-0-0 and kingside attack, since Black's pieces are stuck on the other wing.
When that ran out of steam I went for a gambit approach with 5. f3. I now wish I had a chess programme on the computer to test it all out, but I had to get rid of the excellent Chessmaster 7000 (several years ago, now) as it was stealing all my time when I should have been working. It's one solution to the self-control problem, I suppose...
Also at TEAM we had John Richardson, the ugley vicar, giving us some more thoughts on Revelation. He argued strongly against premillennialism from a robust amil position and gave us lots of insights into the numbers in Revelation and their OT background. Stimulating stuff, but there's never enough time in life (let alone in the seminars) to discuss all the implications and check all the alternatives and chew over the theology. I still need to properly assess the preterist position that sees most of the imagery 'fulfilled' in the destruction of Jerusalem, and to consider how Revelation (and other bits) support or undermines the postmil thesis that the kingdom will grow and be visibly victorious in the world before the end. JR used 2 Thess 2 as a governing passage, on the one hand to support a cyclical or action-replay reading of Revelation (which is pretty solid) and on the other hand to suggest that there will be a future time of intense persecution shortly before the end. But of course, many have argued that 2 Thess is all about AD70.
One possible way through is to see the typology as extending into the future. Perhaps we can grant a preterist interpretation of significant portions of, e.g., Matthew 24, and maybe even of 2 Thess or Revelation itself, but see the destruction of Jerusalem as a type of final judgement. That's only the most hesitant of suggestions, though, and almost certainly not original in the slightest; so many scholars and pastors and others have thought and written about this that it's quite difficult to know where to begin! (and now I see that the preterist archive website has gone and got all glitzy since I last came across it, but if you can get past that there's a lot of fascinating history there...)
1. d4 f5
2. Nc3 Nf6
3. Bg5 e6
4. e4 dxe5
5. Bxf6 Qxf6
6. Nxe4
intending a swift 0-0-0 and kingside attack, since Black's pieces are stuck on the other wing.
When that ran out of steam I went for a gambit approach with 5. f3. I now wish I had a chess programme on the computer to test it all out, but I had to get rid of the excellent Chessmaster 7000 (several years ago, now) as it was stealing all my time when I should have been working. It's one solution to the self-control problem, I suppose...
Also at TEAM we had John Richardson, the ugley vicar, giving us some more thoughts on Revelation. He argued strongly against premillennialism from a robust amil position and gave us lots of insights into the numbers in Revelation and their OT background. Stimulating stuff, but there's never enough time in life (let alone in the seminars) to discuss all the implications and check all the alternatives and chew over the theology. I still need to properly assess the preterist position that sees most of the imagery 'fulfilled' in the destruction of Jerusalem, and to consider how Revelation (and other bits) support or undermines the postmil thesis that the kingdom will grow and be visibly victorious in the world before the end. JR used 2 Thess 2 as a governing passage, on the one hand to support a cyclical or action-replay reading of Revelation (which is pretty solid) and on the other hand to suggest that there will be a future time of intense persecution shortly before the end. But of course, many have argued that 2 Thess is all about AD70.
One possible way through is to see the typology as extending into the future. Perhaps we can grant a preterist interpretation of significant portions of, e.g., Matthew 24, and maybe even of 2 Thess or Revelation itself, but see the destruction of Jerusalem as a type of final judgement. That's only the most hesitant of suggestions, though, and almost certainly not original in the slightest; so many scholars and pastors and others have thought and written about this that it's quite difficult to know where to begin! (and now I see that the preterist archive website has gone and got all glitzy since I last came across it, but if you can get past that there's a lot of fascinating history there...)
Tuesday, 1 May 2007
I was Monty's Double Gender
Definitely my best title to date.
But before I get too carried away with self-congratulation, I need to quote from I was Monty's Double, by E. Clifton-James (Panther, 1958). James was a WWI veteran and actor, serving in the Royal Army Pay Corps during WWII, suddenly called upon to impersonate the Allied Commander during the build-up to D-Day. [It's the current bathroom book of choice.] Speaking of his MI5 'minder', who constantly encouraged him, he writes:
When I remembered this scene later I realized what a clever man I was dealing with. The whole essence of cleverness in handling human problems is knowing the way people are going to act and react. Really, it is a process of getting inside their minds. Whether you are a doctor, or a politician, a barrister, a General or a publicity manager, you will get nowhere unless you have this gift of tapping people's thoughts and feelings. (70)
James also attributes this gift to Monty himself. What struck a chord with me was the emphasis placed on empathizing in this male-dominated military world (and then extended by implication to significant career families). Prof. Simon Baron-Cohen's influential thesis regarding brains and autism categorises this type of thinking as a trait of the 'female' brain (suitably qualified with comments about statistics, 'on average', etc). Is this an example of what Baron-Cohen thinks is a privileging of the female brain at the expense of systemizers (and those with autism) in twentieth century society (The Essential Difference, pp.171, 184-5)? Does it thereby undermine the fears of those who oppose gender essentialists and evolutionary psychologists, claiming among other things that their discourse values 'male' characteristics, while paying lip-service to both sexes? (e.g. Rosalind Barnett and Caryl Rivers, Same Difference, p.185) Or was it only in the 50s that empathizing was valued in these high-powered careers that Barnett and Rivers want women to succeed in? Or was E. Clifton-James the only person to think that?
Before I and my questions get really silly, I'm going to read some more about gender (and maybe another chapter from I was Monty's Double...)
But before I get too carried away with self-congratulation, I need to quote from I was Monty's Double, by E. Clifton-James (Panther, 1958). James was a WWI veteran and actor, serving in the Royal Army Pay Corps during WWII, suddenly called upon to impersonate the Allied Commander during the build-up to D-Day. [It's the current bathroom book of choice.] Speaking of his MI5 'minder', who constantly encouraged him, he writes:
When I remembered this scene later I realized what a clever man I was dealing with. The whole essence of cleverness in handling human problems is knowing the way people are going to act and react. Really, it is a process of getting inside their minds. Whether you are a doctor, or a politician, a barrister, a General or a publicity manager, you will get nowhere unless you have this gift of tapping people's thoughts and feelings. (70)
James also attributes this gift to Monty himself. What struck a chord with me was the emphasis placed on empathizing in this male-dominated military world (and then extended by implication to significant career families). Prof. Simon Baron-Cohen's influential thesis regarding brains and autism categorises this type of thinking as a trait of the 'female' brain (suitably qualified with comments about statistics, 'on average', etc). Is this an example of what Baron-Cohen thinks is a privileging of the female brain at the expense of systemizers (and those with autism) in twentieth century society (The Essential Difference, pp.171, 184-5)? Does it thereby undermine the fears of those who oppose gender essentialists and evolutionary psychologists, claiming among other things that their discourse values 'male' characteristics, while paying lip-service to both sexes? (e.g. Rosalind Barnett and Caryl Rivers, Same Difference, p.185) Or was it only in the 50s that empathizing was valued in these high-powered careers that Barnett and Rivers want women to succeed in? Or was E. Clifton-James the only person to think that?
Before I and my questions get really silly, I'm going to read some more about gender (and maybe another chapter from I was Monty's Double...)
Citizen of God
Patrick then helpfully reminded me of this passage...
I noticed the other day that the verb politeuomai occurs one other time in
the NT, in Paul's opening to the Sanhedrin in Acts 23: 1. ... Paul's Roman citizenship has been brought into prominence immediately beforehand 22: 25-29 at some length. However, it is Paul's 'Judaism' which is in view with pepoliteumai. "I have lived as a citizen for God with an entirely clear conscience upto this day." The explicit mention of God makes this statement seem to be one of service or worship (in all of life) similar to Paul's other comments about "being a better Jew than the rest of you" (paraphrase of Gal. 1: 14, Philippians 3: 2-11, 2 Cor. 11: 21 ff.). There is certainly much more than merely being a good citizen here. What do
you think of this passage?
Yes, there is more involved than merely being a good citizen. But perhaps that is because we have a truncated view of 'citizenship' (or 'subjecthood', as it may more properly be) in British culture today (and probably in many cultures). It may be that, in general, to live well as a 'citizen' of the UK, being law-abiding and doing a bit of voluntary work on the side is all that is required. But this is because so much is taken for granted, and because the idols of this age and this place are diffuse (state, consumerism, comfort, etc.) rather than bare-faced and monochrome like Turkmenbashi or Kim Jong-Il. But these idols still make their claims to complete lordship. The formal, explicit political structures of the UK are not much of an idol in themselves. Those structures are not well understood, and we are all familiar with the lament regarding declining participation in democracy. (And I think there is a further complicating factor regarding the establishment of the Church of England and public language/ceremonies that invoke the Trinity: are they politically relevant or desirable?) But when we defer to the state, or to the space created and guaranteed by the state in which we can worship our other idols (individualism, hedonism, etc), or to localism, or tribalism, then we may find ourselves living as good citizens, according to our national/birth culture, but not according to the city of God.
To put all this more succinctly: perhaps living well as a citizen encompasses more than we imagine. Perhaps we cannot live well as a citizen when all the terms are defined by secular liberals (or secular totalitarians) because we will not compromise on the lordship of Christ over everything and we will not give up our citizenship in heaven in order to gain the privileges offered by the various 'cities' here on earth. And at the moment in the UK that is largely overlooked and the rubber rarely hits the road - first, because we live in a post-Christian and generally tolerant sort of place, and second, because the idols around us are diffuse and disorganised so we don't need to be attacked for compromising on the world's definition of citizenship when Satan can distract and undermine us with a bewildering variety of activities and distractions that we don't realise are 'political' (because we forget about the claims of Jesus and about our being part of the body of Christ).
To bring things back to Acts 22. Paul's use of political language was more comprehensive than ours, because the prevailing system in the first century was not one that claimed to be neutral, merely providing a space for citizens to fulfil themselves. So, service and worship in all areas of life was considered 'political': politics was not the word for distant governmental wranglings, it was the responsibility of the citizen.
And the challenge for us is, how do we recognise and act on our citizenship today? It seems that the church should take priority, since we are first and foremost citizens of a heavenly city, not of earthly kingdoms. Political activity should be directed towards life in a community of believers, where the rules are different (peace, love and forgiveness rather than dog-eat-dog or hierarchies or pride) to those in worldly political communities. The pressing question of our interaction (as individuals and as churches) with those communities is one for another day, though, unless you live in Iran, Myanmar, Saudi Arabia, Eritrea, Belarus, Uzbekistan, Turkey, China, North Korea...
I noticed the other day that the verb politeuomai occurs one other time in
the NT, in Paul's opening to the Sanhedrin in Acts 23: 1. ... Paul's Roman citizenship has been brought into prominence immediately beforehand 22: 25-29 at some length. However, it is Paul's 'Judaism' which is in view with pepoliteumai. "I have lived as a citizen for God with an entirely clear conscience upto this day." The explicit mention of God makes this statement seem to be one of service or worship (in all of life) similar to Paul's other comments about "being a better Jew than the rest of you" (paraphrase of Gal. 1: 14, Philippians 3: 2-11, 2 Cor. 11: 21 ff.). There is certainly much more than merely being a good citizen here. What do
you think of this passage?
Yes, there is more involved than merely being a good citizen. But perhaps that is because we have a truncated view of 'citizenship' (or 'subjecthood', as it may more properly be) in British culture today (and probably in many cultures). It may be that, in general, to live well as a 'citizen' of the UK, being law-abiding and doing a bit of voluntary work on the side is all that is required. But this is because so much is taken for granted, and because the idols of this age and this place are diffuse (state, consumerism, comfort, etc.) rather than bare-faced and monochrome like Turkmenbashi or Kim Jong-Il. But these idols still make their claims to complete lordship. The formal, explicit political structures of the UK are not much of an idol in themselves. Those structures are not well understood, and we are all familiar with the lament regarding declining participation in democracy. (And I think there is a further complicating factor regarding the establishment of the Church of England and public language/ceremonies that invoke the Trinity: are they politically relevant or desirable?) But when we defer to the state, or to the space created and guaranteed by the state in which we can worship our other idols (individualism, hedonism, etc), or to localism, or tribalism, then we may find ourselves living as good citizens, according to our national/birth culture, but not according to the city of God.
To put all this more succinctly: perhaps living well as a citizen encompasses more than we imagine. Perhaps we cannot live well as a citizen when all the terms are defined by secular liberals (or secular totalitarians) because we will not compromise on the lordship of Christ over everything and we will not give up our citizenship in heaven in order to gain the privileges offered by the various 'cities' here on earth. And at the moment in the UK that is largely overlooked and the rubber rarely hits the road - first, because we live in a post-Christian and generally tolerant sort of place, and second, because the idols around us are diffuse and disorganised so we don't need to be attacked for compromising on the world's definition of citizenship when Satan can distract and undermine us with a bewildering variety of activities and distractions that we don't realise are 'political' (because we forget about the claims of Jesus and about our being part of the body of Christ).
To bring things back to Acts 22. Paul's use of political language was more comprehensive than ours, because the prevailing system in the first century was not one that claimed to be neutral, merely providing a space for citizens to fulfil themselves. So, service and worship in all areas of life was considered 'political': politics was not the word for distant governmental wranglings, it was the responsibility of the citizen.
And the challenge for us is, how do we recognise and act on our citizenship today? It seems that the church should take priority, since we are first and foremost citizens of a heavenly city, not of earthly kingdoms. Political activity should be directed towards life in a community of believers, where the rules are different (peace, love and forgiveness rather than dog-eat-dog or hierarchies or pride) to those in worldly political communities. The pressing question of our interaction (as individuals and as churches) with those communities is one for another day, though, unless you live in Iran, Myanmar, Saudi Arabia, Eritrea, Belarus, Uzbekistan, Turkey, China, North Korea...
Monday, 30 April 2007
Philippians and the City of God
In the Autumn and Winter of 2006 I preached my first series of expository sermons in the evenings at Rock Baptist. There was a definite improvement in terms of time management, delivery and relevance of application as the series progressed! Quite a lot of that was due to the very useful practical parts of the TEAM course, which I started on the mid-series break.
I chose Philippians because I love it, because it is considered relatively 'easy', because I hadn't heard anyone preach on it at Rock and because of a few things I read in Leithart's Against Christianity. He argues that Philippians is actually a very political letter - not only on the basis of the uses of polis cognates (our citizenship is in heaven 3:20; live as a citizen worthy of the gospel 1:27, unfortunately obscured by NIV, ESV, etc) at critical points in the argument but because of the character of the city of Philippi.
Philippi was a Roman Colony, keenly aware of its political and legal privileges. Land was generously given to trusted army veterans when the city was constituted as such, and these citizens were treated as if they lived in Rome itself. But for Paul, all of this is dung, just as all the privileges of Jewish citizenship are dung without membership in Christ.
One day I may get round to posting more thoughts on Philippians, but a juicy morsel worthy of immediate publication was passed to me the other week by Patrick James (not to be confused with our mutual friend James Patrick). He found this in Tacitus (Annals 12.32.2)...
id quo promptius veniret, colonia Camulodunum valida veteranorum manu deducitur in agros captivos, subsidium adversus rebellis et imbuendis sociis ad officia legum
...and kindly translated it, to spare me embarrassment and hours of frustration:
in order that this ['pacifying' the tribe of the Silures] might come about sooner, a colony - Colchester - was founded on captured land with a strong company of veterans - a garrison against rebellions and to imbue allies with obedience to the laws.
So, colonies were not merely outposts of the great city, but were there to encourage the adoption of the great city's laws. Does anyone else think that there might be a fruitful analogy to be drawn with the position of the church (individual congregations? city-clusters of congregations?) in the world...?
I chose Philippians because I love it, because it is considered relatively 'easy', because I hadn't heard anyone preach on it at Rock and because of a few things I read in Leithart's Against Christianity. He argues that Philippians is actually a very political letter - not only on the basis of the uses of polis cognates (our citizenship is in heaven 3:20; live as a citizen worthy of the gospel 1:27, unfortunately obscured by NIV, ESV, etc) at critical points in the argument but because of the character of the city of Philippi.
Philippi was a Roman Colony, keenly aware of its political and legal privileges. Land was generously given to trusted army veterans when the city was constituted as such, and these citizens were treated as if they lived in Rome itself. But for Paul, all of this is dung, just as all the privileges of Jewish citizenship are dung without membership in Christ.
One day I may get round to posting more thoughts on Philippians, but a juicy morsel worthy of immediate publication was passed to me the other week by Patrick James (not to be confused with our mutual friend James Patrick). He found this in Tacitus (Annals 12.32.2)...
id quo promptius veniret, colonia Camulodunum valida veteranorum manu deducitur in agros captivos, subsidium adversus rebellis et imbuendis sociis ad officia legum
...and kindly translated it, to spare me embarrassment and hours of frustration:
in order that this ['pacifying' the tribe of the Silures] might come about sooner, a colony - Colchester - was founded on captured land with a strong company of veterans - a garrison against rebellions and to imbue allies with obedience to the laws.
So, colonies were not merely outposts of the great city, but were there to encourage the adoption of the great city's laws. Does anyone else think that there might be a fruitful analogy to be drawn with the position of the church (individual congregations? city-clusters of congregations?) in the world...?
The Parable of the Dawkins
Here's a story for everyone. (It's in Finnish, too, if that's any use to you.)
Pointy hats are a great literary device!
Pointy hats are a great literary device!
Tuesday, 24 April 2007
Concerning Halloween
I really should be in bed now, but I got reading about a particular facet (not the right word, I'm sure, but most of my brain cells have nodded off) of the emerging church, calling itself simple church. Very relevant to us as we pray and plan for a church to be planted from Rock.
And then I turned to some old favourites. Everything this man writes is stimulating and much of it is infuriating. Just when you thought you 'knew' that 'Halloween' was 'wrong' (probably without thinking about it much, like me)...
And then I turned to some old favourites. Everything this man writes is stimulating and much of it is infuriating. Just when you thought you 'knew' that 'Halloween' was 'wrong' (probably without thinking about it much, like me)...
Sunday, 22 April 2007
but why did he stay up?
Yes, the book was fun, but maybe it was endochrine secretions, or, more likely, caffeine. I tucked into a late afternoon tea at a friend's birthday party and noticed how many people avoided it because of the risk of inappropriate wakefulness. My current boss was one of these people. Maybe I am too, because after the party we went to Bury St Edmunds to see a fabulous one-man show about Hudson Taylor and at 9.30pm there I was tucking into a coffee...
If that impassioned performance, and deep challenge to the audience wasn't enough to stimulate the grey cells and the heart, I was also buzzing with the success of the afternoon's concert in honour of the birthday gent, Dr Michael Schluter. The piano was a reconditioned Steinway from 1917 that felt as good as new and was a joy to play, and the programme was a collection of stalwarts plus a few surprises, punctuated by songs from Mike's brothers-in-law.
Debussy, Prelude from Suite Bergamasque
Mendelssohn, Song without words in A flat, "Duetto"
Rachmaninov, Prelude in B major
Brahms, Rhapsody in G minor
---
Beethoven, Sonata No. 18 in E flat, 1st mvt
Brahms, Intermezzo in E flat
Chopin, Waltzes in D flat and C# minor
Mozart, Fantasia in D minor
---
Gershwin, Prelude No. 1
Bankole, Rhapsody on a Theme from Egun
If that impassioned performance, and deep challenge to the audience wasn't enough to stimulate the grey cells and the heart, I was also buzzing with the success of the afternoon's concert in honour of the birthday gent, Dr Michael Schluter. The piano was a reconditioned Steinway from 1917 that felt as good as new and was a joy to play, and the programme was a collection of stalwarts plus a few surprises, punctuated by songs from Mike's brothers-in-law.
Debussy, Prelude from Suite Bergamasque
Mendelssohn, Song without words in A flat, "Duetto"
Rachmaninov, Prelude in B major
Brahms, Rhapsody in G minor
---
Beethoven, Sonata No. 18 in E flat, 1st mvt
Brahms, Intermezzo in E flat
Chopin, Waltzes in D flat and C# minor
Mozart, Fantasia in D minor
---
Gershwin, Prelude No. 1
Bankole, Rhapsody on a Theme from Egun
The Documents in the Case
A rare thing for me these ancient and decrepit days, I stayed up very late last night (someone else happily slept next to me despite the light) reading Dorothy Sayers' The Documents in the Case, an early whodunnit from the pen of (in my opinion) the best of the golden age crime novelists. It had been on the 'to read' shelf (which is about 5 ft long) for several years but I picked it up yesterday after enjoying an 80s BBC adaptation of another Sayers, Have his Carcase, starring Edward Petherbridge. (If anyone reading this blog is old enough to remember these dramas, you'll know that Petherbridge might have been born to play Lord Peter Wimsey, and the only regret was that the BBC asked him to play the part when he about 20 years too old for it, great lighting notwithstanding!)
This early Sayers (written in conjunction with Robert Eustace, a doctor who assisted various early 20th crime novelists) is surprisingly fun, despite the absence of Lord Peter. Her observations of middle class London life, and the explorations of various popular scientific and philosophical ideas that arise in the course of conversations are neat, winsome, pointed and addictive. The characters are all complex, and even when the murder is solved, the various, often contradictory, narrative perspectives (the novel is a collection of letters) continue to play in the reader's mind.
The explorations of gender mores and the references to endochrine secretions caught my eye, as I'm delving into that at the moment for the Jubilee Centre (and in some ways, there's not much more to say than what Sayers did...). Plenty of religious imagery and ideas to keep the idle mind active. The word 'decoct' (like concoct, only you get what you want by breaking down something else, not by putting it together) was a treat, and took me back to happy undergraduate days at Cambridge making up silly words with Nick and Paul over green tea, in a rather neo-Edwardian fashion. (You can tell I like this stuff, can't you. I sometimes wonder whether I wouldn't have done a bit better as English gent in the 20s, or even a whimsical Lord...)
The engineers in the story came across as slightly repressed characters - bad empathizers, in the language of Simon Baron-Cohen (yes, he is related to Ali G) - and one of them was hopelessly uncultured. I did think that was rather unfair, given that of the engineers I know, one is an international concert pianist, another writes songs, another wears cravats...
This early Sayers (written in conjunction with Robert Eustace, a doctor who assisted various early 20th crime novelists) is surprisingly fun, despite the absence of Lord Peter. Her observations of middle class London life, and the explorations of various popular scientific and philosophical ideas that arise in the course of conversations are neat, winsome, pointed and addictive. The characters are all complex, and even when the murder is solved, the various, often contradictory, narrative perspectives (the novel is a collection of letters) continue to play in the reader's mind.
The explorations of gender mores and the references to endochrine secretions caught my eye, as I'm delving into that at the moment for the Jubilee Centre (and in some ways, there's not much more to say than what Sayers did...). Plenty of religious imagery and ideas to keep the idle mind active. The word 'decoct' (like concoct, only you get what you want by breaking down something else, not by putting it together) was a treat, and took me back to happy undergraduate days at Cambridge making up silly words with Nick and Paul over green tea, in a rather neo-Edwardian fashion. (You can tell I like this stuff, can't you. I sometimes wonder whether I wouldn't have done a bit better as English gent in the 20s, or even a whimsical Lord...)
The engineers in the story came across as slightly repressed characters - bad empathizers, in the language of Simon Baron-Cohen (yes, he is related to Ali G) - and one of them was hopelessly uncultured. I did think that was rather unfair, given that of the engineers I know, one is an international concert pianist, another writes songs, another wears cravats...
Tuesday, 17 April 2007
personal typology
Thinking in an unstructured, over-enthusiastic fashion about typology (as about everything else) I just read this interesting essay on Romans 7 when I doubtless should have been doing something else. One comment underneath the essay is particularly exciting, as it explores the idea of reading the individual Christian life as typologically related to the larger story of redemption. Food for thought.
Monday, 16 April 2007
: - P arable
Let me temporarily interrupt the Buddhist thoughts for this, from Doug Wilson's blog. If you ever want to be taxed, amused, provoked and edified you could do worse than visit...
The Kingdom of God is a Fine Automobile
Topic: Parable
Just a thought, which has popped into my head since I'm currently reading the literature on the psychology and biology of sex and gender... I'd love for someone to cast this sort of a parable in a feminine fashion. All these masculine examples are great, but maleness and femaleness are needed to fully express the glory of the image of God.
The Kingdom of God is a Fine Automobile
Topic: Parable
The doctrine of the kingdom of God is like a fine automobile. Some parts of it are lush, and polished, and comfortable, with climate control, and windows that go up and down with the press of a button. Other parts of it are cold and metallic, greasy, heavy and far too . . . doctrinal.
Two men had the same make and model of car, same year, and they each sought to improve it according to their lights. One of them, when he was filling the gas tank up one evening, had a sudden, blinding insight. How much lighter his car would be if he only took out the engine block. He could fly down the road, and he wouldn’t have to worry about gas expenses any more. He could use the space for a second trunk, and he could dispense with all the messy and expensive issues of upkeep. He had once scraped his knuckles badly getting the oil filter off—he remembered that incident particularly.
The other man, the first man’s neighbor, saw him engaged in the task of removing the engine one day after work, and asked him about it. Having heard the explanation, he went home shaking his head. It was appropriate, he thought to take the engine out—in fact he had done the same thing to his car the night before. But the point was always to remember that the engine was the heart of the gosp . . er, car. That was why he planned to ride the engine block to work the next morning. Why mess with all that other stuff when all the horsepower was located right there?
The next morning, of course, found both of them stuck in the driveway. After about ten minutes it got embarrassing, and so they both went inside.
Doctrine, theology, and careful definitions are metallic and clunky. They are sometimes greasy and always heavy. And because they are heavy, the car is light and moves down the road. Application, life, love, and communion are the interior of the car. Because there is a place to sit, and drive, the engine is useful, and the light interior has weight and purpose—and can move down the road.
There are those who want us to give up our emphasis on Reformation doctrine. Think how much lighter your car would be! Your teaching on marriage and family would be greatly appreciated in many circles if you didn’t have that big metal block under the hood. On the other side, there are those who want us to give up all the life and application. They want us to sit on the engine block of doctrine, incessantly gunning the five points of Calvinism for all the neighbors to hear.
Brethren, there is a more excellent way.
Just a thought, which has popped into my head since I'm currently reading the literature on the psychology and biology of sex and gender... I'd love for someone to cast this sort of a parable in a feminine fashion. All these masculine examples are great, but maleness and femaleness are needed to fully express the glory of the image of God.
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