Thursday, 5 February 2009
Double entendres
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Kallistos Ware
Bishop Kallistos Ware
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Dominant discourses...
Monday, 13 October 2008
The Living Library
The idea of the "living library" originated in Scandinavia. "Readers" come to the library to borrow real people in the same way that they would normally borrow books. They can then take them away to a corner for a fifteen minute chat in the course of which they can ask all the questions, and hear real live answers. The idea is being used in the UK as part of a campaign run by mental health charity Rethink, along with youth volunteering campaign Agents4Change, which aims to tackle stigmas, stereotypes and prejudices. How might it be adapted in a higher education teaching context? Further details.
Listen again to the Learning Curve report on this initiative here.
Images of God and caricatures
In a lecture here it was suggested that someone who has a negative image of God - e.g. that s/he is punitive, judgemental etc shouldn't be encouraged to 'open themselves' to God in prayer. In fact they should be encouraged to distance themselves from that God, and then there is an on-going process to help people reconfigure their image of God. We weren't told how... It makes sense though, although I got the feeling that some people were a bit doubtful about the suggestion that someone *shouldn't* be encouraged to pray... Suspect that bit didn't come across exactly how it was meant.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Image of prayer
Monday, 6 October 2008
Learning style and worship
Monday, 4 August 2008
Leaving and leaving you - Sophie Hannah
When I leave your postcode and your commuting station,
When I left undone all the things we planned to do
You may feel you have been left by association
But there is leaving and leaving you.
When I leave your town and the club that you belong to,
When I leave without much warning or much regret,
Remember, there's doing wrong and there's doing wrong to
You, which I'll never do and I haven't yet,
And when I have gone, remember that in weighing
Everything up, from love to a cheaper rent,
You were all the reasons I thought of staying,
And none of the reasons why I went
And although I leave your sight and I leave your setting,
And our separation is soon to be a fact,
Though you stand beside what I'm leaving and forgetting,
I'm not leaving you, not if motive makes the act.
Friday, 18 July 2008
Tough love
My only additional thoughts would be that often, although by no means always, this idea of not accepting the 'gay' lifestyle works better if it is implicitly assumed that being gay is in fact a sort of choice, or at least can be changed. (And of course the idea that being in an active gay relationship is wrong, but I'm not trying to leap into that debate here.) I suspect, though, this idea that orientation is chosen, or is always the result of some kind of trauma, is going out of fashion, although perhaps not in the US Bible belt if the film is anything to go by. Which leaves us in the position of telling gay christians that they are not at fault for who they are, but that they must resign themselves to permanent celibacy. Not just that they have to stay single until they meet someone they can marry, but that (unless there is a change in their orientation), they will definitely be single, and therefore missing out on that form of intimacy, for the whole of their lives.
Well, you could say that that that's just how it is, and not exclusive to gay people, and I guess that's true. You could also point to problems with our society or culture that prioritise individual romantic/sexual relationships and devalue other forms of relationship or fulfilment, and I think that's also true. But I suspect this conclusion (permanent celibacy) is easier to come to if a) you prioritise rationality/reason/logic over experience and emotion (as modern conservative evangelicalism tends to do) and b) if it doesn't really affect you. If the conclusion is 'correct', on one level it doesn't matter who makes it. But on another level, it does feel as though it matters when heterosexual married christians are coming to these conclusions on behalf of gay christians.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Bishop Gene Robinson and love
"Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn 'a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law— your enemies will be the members of your own household.'
"Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves a son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it."
Or in a more up to date version:
"Don't think I've come to make life cozy. I've come to cut—make a sharp knife-cut between son and father, daughter and mother, bride and mother-in-law—cut through these cozy domestic arrangements and free you for God. Well-meaning family members can be your worst enemies. If you prefer father or mother over me, you don't deserve me. If you prefer son or daughter over me, you don't deserve me.
"If you don't go all the way with me, through thick and thin, you don't deserve me. If your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you'll find both yourself and me."
It's written as if Jesus is being quoted, so we are supposed to assume these are the actual words of Jesus. What's he on about? These verses are familiar to me, because my church background has, at times, been big on sacrifice and taking up your cross. In other church contexts this kind of thing is rarely mentioned, but for me it's always been talked about and we've tried to work out how this would play out day to day. (At one point I designed a 'comfort-o-matic' cross for a friend, which came complete with padded arm rests and a red wine holder.) In some ways that suits me, because I'm a bit of an old testament kind of girl - and I've always been fascinated by the celtic saints who left everything to sail off into the sunset, and then did mad things like stand in the sea up to their necks all night praying (I think it was to keep them awake??). And in a couple of months I'm finally going on my own celtic adventure as I move to Durham.
But last night these verses struck me a bit differently. I'd just come home from the screening of a documentary called 'the Bible tells me so', which interviewed christian families who had a gay son or daughter, and was followed by a Q&A session with Bishop Gene Robinson and Ian McKellan. Gene Robinson is the only bishop in the Anglican Communion to be in an open gay partnership, and one of the families in the documentary was his family. The documentary was - naturally - offering a particular point of view, and so all the families had started out with conservative christian views on sexuality, and most had changed their views as a result of their experiences. All of them loved their children, but most had acted initially in really unloving ways. Shamefully, a lot of the unloving behaviour came about because of what they'd been taught by their churches - not just that homosexuality is "an abomination" (this was repeated frequently), but also that it's a choice and people can choose to chage their sexuality. Whatever someone's theology, it was clear, if it wasn't already abundantly obvious, that churches and christians have been responsible for inflicting huge amounts of pain, and even inciting people to violence. The bible has and is being used in superficial, ignorant and irresponsible ways to sanction pre-existing prejudice.
This made me think more about the second bit of the quotation. Because I'm single, I've probably not paid much attention to this before. But there are a couple of thoughts here. It's actually a really difficult saying to understand, although the 'son against father' bit is a quotation from the old testament so would have meant more to the jewish hearers. Firstly, at what point does my personal sacrifice start to be a sacrifice for other people? If I think I'm asked to prioritise God/faith, that's one thing, but what about when my decisions have an impact on other people? What happens when my choices mean that other people are also being asked to make a sacrifice. This must be more critical when children/partners are involved, but happens in smaller ways too. And it was v clear from the documentary that the parents' choice to - as they saw it - follow Christ had negative effects on their children.
And following on from that, I wondered whether loving God should ever make us act in non-loving ways to the people around us? My gut feeling is that the 2 things are incompatible, and that part of loving God is loving other people. Presumably part of the problem is defining what counts as loving, and that it's possible to love someone without being 'nice' to them. I find a particular problem here with the christian teaching (hopefully mostly in the past?) which said that gay people shouldn't be accepted as they are (because then they wouldn't have any incentive to change) - and surely christian 'love' includes acceptance. This is what we say about God's love, which we try to reflect - that s/he loves us unconditionally. So any behaviour based on non-acceptance can't, by definition, be loving?
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Old people and rudeness
Wednesday, 11 June 2008
Grown up points
So, do you have children?
No...
A partner?
No...
Mortgage/property?
No...
How about your job?
I'm a full-time student, it'll finish in a few months...
Car?
No, I don't drive...
[The poor woman was looking desperate by now...]
Pets?
Errr, no..... but I do have some houseplants!!
Wednesday, 4 June 2008
Scenes from Galapagos 3
Friday, 23 May 2008
Scenes from Galapagos 2
- Meat. Obviously. One of them didn't like the taste, and one of them once had a hallucination about boiled chicken....
- Fish. Well actually they sometimes eat fish, but only when they're in the mood. The mood never descended, even when we were on a boat being given fish every day. This was followed up by a comment about fish eating vegetarians not really being vegetarians, unlike them. Right.
- Eggs. Eggs in things good, eggs by themselves bad.
- Milk & yoghurt. See above.
- White things. One of them really did announce that they didn't like to eat white things, although she was possibly referring to white sauces/creamy things. Except for ice cream, which is both white and creamy, but cold. So that's ok.
- Some vegetables, served in place of the meat/fish. They were worried that they might get a protein deficiency, and thought that the chef could have shown some imagination and served soya or tofu.
- Soya. Arrived the following night, but was rejected because it was one of those fake meat products. (See point 1).
Monday, 19 May 2008
Scenes from Galapagos 1
S: Er, 5'2" I think.
V: My daughter is 5' when stretched, and this wide [holds out index finger and thumb in a loop].
S (who missed the hand gesture): She's how wide?
V: Why? Well she's just built that way, that's why.
S: No, how wide?
V: Why what?
Intervened at this point to avoid death by dinner conversation....
I'd also like to make it clear that even though I might look like I'm 5'4", I am in fact 5'9 when STRETCHED.
Friday, 16 May 2008
Hi honey, I'm home
Sunday, 27 April 2008
We're all going on a....
Monday, 14 April 2008
Seeing is believing?
Monday, 7 April 2008
Prisoners of hope
http://www.rzim.org/resources/jttran.php?seqid=89
Lewis characterizes Sehnsucht as an “intense longing” 3 for union with beauty and transcendence through a desired object—such as a “far-off country”—which is partly realized in the incarnation of hope and especially, Joy. Such an experience, though, leaves one trembling with an acute awareness that one is ultimately separated from the object for which one longs. This sense of separation leads Lewis to reason, “The human soul was made to enjoy some object that is never fully given—nay, cannot even be imagined—in our present mode of subject and spatio-temporal experience.” 4
Just a few days after my Ash Wednesday dream, and yes, after reading Jesus’ pointed reply to the blind men, I had another dream: A troubled young woman failed her exam and went to seek help from her professor. The teacher responded with kindness and then asked her a question, but I awoke before she answered. The question? “What is it that you want?”
In Lewis’ allegory The Pilgrim’s Regress and Augustine’s biography Confessions, the authors depict the power of longing, both for God and for God-substitutes—those things they sought to fill the void that they would discover only God could fill. Augustine and Lewis recognized that our longings can lead us to God. Conversely, our blindness to them actually directs us away from God, for if we cannot see what it is we seek, how will we know if we’ve stumbled upon it? Indeed, “What we do not long for,” observes Augustine, “can be the object neither of our hope nor of our despair.”
It has been my experience that for the follower of Christ, our blindness to what it is that we want, and ultimately, what it is that satisfies, is rooted either in fear or in submerging our persistent longings under the temporarily tranquil waters of “godly contentment.” I do not mean to suggest that contentment is not possible or even desirable, for the Scriptures, and particularly the Psalms, offer us a view of rest. One thinks, of course, of Psalm 23: “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want…. He leads me beside still waters,” where the Hebrew reads literally, “beside waters of rest.” Yet only two chapters later, David is pursued by his enemies and cries out, “The troubles of my heart have multiplied.” So though we may find rest beside tranquil waters, they are “streams in the desert,” and their source flows from a far-off country. 5 ....
And so it is that we are pilgrims in Narnia, prisoners of hope 13 spying dreams of dawn in a far-off country, and its Light pierces us even in the Shadowlands. Like those before us, we are given signposts as reminders along the way and invitations to rest beside still waters, or to wrestle with God till daybreak. So who of us, half-hearted creatures though we often be, would hunger for anything less?
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
Lazarus
This week is Holy Week - the run up to Easter - so I've been at more services and church events than usual. On Monday night we had the story of Lazarus, who Jesus brought back to life after he'd been dead several days. Momentarily leaving aside the - humungous (sp?) - doubts and questions that this raises, I wondered what Lazarus' attitude to death would have been after that. Would he be really blase about it - "oh yeah, I die all the time, it's no big deal" - or afraid, or looking forward to it, or what? I guess quite a lot depends on what, if anything, happened during those days he was physically dead, and, as with so many things, the bible doesn't say much about that.