Author: admin

  • the politics of gentleness….

    Teachers, carers, theologians, medical professionals and others, meeting together to explore a spirituality of community based on friendship, hospitality and conversation – it was a remarkable conference. Sponsored last autumn by the Centre for Spirituality, Health and Disability, at Aberdeen University, orgainsed by Professor John Swinton, the day featured two very different keynote speakers.

    030608008_lg_1 Jean Vanier is founder of L’Arche communities, an international network of local communities. Within L’Arche communities ‘people with learning disabilities and people who do not share that life experience, live together, not as carer and cared for, but as fellow human beings, who share a mutuality of care and need.’ In a world comfortable with hard edged distinctions, sold on efficiency, idolising individual rational choice, dissolving differences into a community of human supportiveness and mutual recognition of need – is both remarkable and prophetic.

    Prophetic in the sense of providing a corrective to the self-concerned, often fearful, anxious and grasping way life is now lived in our culture; and prophetic in the sense of gentle critique, an invitation to consider alternative models of human relations. Vanier spoke of fundamental fear, the wound of loneliness, the preciousness of each human being – and did so with tenderness and gentleness, informed by a life experience remarkable in its influence for good in thousands of lives.

    P_hauerwas0014_4 By contrast Stanley Hauerwas is one of America ’s leading theologians and ethicists. He disowns any claim to gentleness, is a combative outspoken Texan, eloquent but downright confrontational when he encounters injustice, exclusion and any process or system that diminishes the value and dignity of human life. In a telling contrast he quipped, ‘Where I see an enemy to be defeated, Jean sees a wound to be healed.’ This sharp tongued thinker identified and explored the phrase ‘the politics of gentleness’. He wasn’t always easy to follow, original thinkers seldom are, but as he might say at home, ‘we got the drift.’

    Now neither of these men claim that their view of human life and community is the only way to go. And in a climate of party political in-fighting and warmongering, when backs have been stabbed, egos bruised, reputations and track records defended, and payback time gets closer, the phrase ‘politics of gentleness’, has an other-worldly sound. Gentleness is not our preferred way of doing business,  nor of interacting socially, nor does gentle human responsiveness deeply inform our most vital relationships; we aren’t even gentle with ourselves.

    What was being argued was a change of worldview – a way of looking at others that was not exploitative nor dismissive, that assumed worth and conferred dignity, that sought to understand rather than criticise. Hauerwas described Vanier and his work with a wistfulness that seemed to indicate his own failings in the matter, ‘He exemplifies a way of being which contradicts distrust, and dispels our loneliness of being a fearful human being’. Hauerwas’ own definition of being human is also worth pondering: ‘You are stuck with being born; our creature-hood is not chosen; accept life as a gift without regret.’

    Yes, and maybe through the politics of gentleness, lived out in our own local communities, informed and sustained by communities practising the love of Christ, we will be able, eventually, to accept every life as God’s gift – without regret.

  • imago Dei

    0664224377_01__aa240_sclzzzzzzz_ In 1955, James H Robinson was the first African American to deliver the Lyman Beecher Lectures, the most prestgious lecturship on preaching in the United States. He spoke about the dangerous complacency of a nation ‘  flushed with a succession of victories and satiated with economic prosperity, at the height of vaunted achievements  and technological ascendancy in the arts and sciences’. And he demanded that those who dare talk of transformative grace must wrestle with such questions as:

    What must I do with my life – with the power, the knowledge, the wealth and the leisure which modern adbvancement puts at my disposal? And when life tumbles in how do I keep my equilibrium and reinstate my life without going to pieces.(Page 148)

    This from the essay ‘Transformative Grace’, in the edited collection of Essays I am currently reading. (See picture in this post and sidebar). Written by an African American woman theologian, a Reformed view of grace is repristinated to take account of African Presbyterian experience and history over 200 years in the United States. Refusing the role of Reformed theological parrott she embraces the ministry of reformed theological prophet. This is a superbly astringent essay. On the imago Dei she praises the contributors to an anthology, Black Preaching

    The preachers keep themselves and their congregations rooted in the message that every person is a reflection of the divinity. Their exposition of the sacredness and inherent worth of every human being  is uncompromising.; the status of imago Dei has no superior. God’s grace comes to humanity touching each of us directly, so that assured of our intrinsic dignity, we can each live into our highest and most noble self.(Page 149)

    A quotation like that has disruptive and constructive consequences if such a view of each human being were to inform political and social goals. I am deeply interested in the critical edge the doctrine of the imago Dei provides for a Christian theology and practice of justice, and as a doctrine with diagnostic properties for probing the economic values and human costs of social policies. Imago dei and asylum seeking people; imago Dei and homeless people; imago Dei, globalisation and company restructuring; imago Dei and inter-faith dialogue.

    Of course imago Dei is a doctrine decisively shaped by the attributes of the God in whose image it is believed we are made. ‘God is love…in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself….God commends his love towards us in that while we were still enemies, Christ died for us.’ Imago Dei – transformative grace.

  • Cruciform scarlet!

    Dscn0074_2 The photo shows our now annual post-Christmas flower-fest.

    Each year ( as the non-surprise part of Christmas) Sheila is given an amarylis bulb which starts life as a big brown lump sticking out of a pot packed with compost. Once it starts to sprout it does the botanical equivalent of Formula 1 speeds, produces impressive buds and blooms in a spectacular display of in your face colour that demands attention from the other side of the room.

    Dscn0073_3 Native to South America, produced now commerically in Holland, they are in our shops from early December.

    The sight of such a larger than life exotic scarlet flower in our living room in the West of Scotland, early February (when do the clocks change?), is a visual tonic.

    Some people try to time them so they open (which they can do almost overnight) during the Easter week-end – you can see why.

    Amarylis Haiku

    Cruciform scarlet!

    Easter annunciation!

    Trumpet concerto!

  • brave gestures of remembering

    The dedication of a child is one of the unambiguously positive statements the church makes about children. As a minister few services give me more pleasure and reason for spiritual affirmation than holding a baby who represents the love of the parents embodied in a life, and now offered in gratitude and hopefulness, while a congregation sings the Aaronic blessing, the Lord bless thee and keep thee.

    This weekend has been one of the saddest of my life. A young man who was killed in a tragic accident while doing his job, two days ago, was one such child, the focus of a church’s prayers and his parents gratitude, over 20 years ago. He was growing into all they had hoped – not perfect, and all the better for that. And he had such exciting plans for the next stage of his life training as a teacher. He would have been a brilliant acquisition for the teaching profession.

    15_30_23_web His entire family are desolate – and for now, no words describe, explain or anaesthetise their anguish. Ministry begins in the silence of shared grief. Pastoral support becomes the unspoken agreement that some questions are unanswerable but have to be asked. Now and again it’s important to encourage brave gestures of remembering, holding on to the reality and permanent importance of their now absent son, brother, grandson and nephew.

    Somehow, the unbearable must be borne, and in the strength of the One who was also asked, "My God, why have you forsaken me"?

    And we all know the Easter outcome of that.

    But right now feels like Easter Saturday.

  • Hauerwas 9:the power they pretend to possess

    P_hauerwas0014_2 Matthew’s story about Herod, John the Baptist and Herodias is the only story in this gospel which does not involve Jesus. And Hauerwas is alert to the political realities of power in his reading of a petty tyrant’s cruelties and insecurities. The connection between political power and popular approval is dangerous – for tyrant and oppressed.

    "Matthew has described the insecurity of those in power who depend on the presumption of those around them; that is, they must act in a manner that assures those they rule as well as themselves that they possess the power they pretend to possess. The powerful lack the power to be powerful, which means that they live lives of destructive desperation. That desperation, moreover, often results in others paying the price of their insecurity". (page 138).

    Intended or not (and knowing Hauerwas, I think it is) that is an incisive comment on the recent history of Britain and America, our leadership and their policies. Leaders trying to "assure those they rule that they possess the power they pretend to possess".

    The next story, the feeding of the crowds, has the same political critique. Jesus feeds the hungry out of compassion, and because they are hungry. Herod feeds those who are not hungry as a way of showing his power and buying their favour. Jesus’ feeding of the hungry is an alternative politics to that of envy, greed and purchased popularity. How exactly the story fits the current news, eh?

    "Those who would be Jesus’ disciples need to learn how to feed the hungry in a manner that charity does not become a way to gain power over those who are fed. There is a violent and nonviolent way to feed the hungry". (Page 139)

    It is interesting, and spiritually astringent, to read a commentary on the gospel which is so outspokenly frank in its commentary on the kind of world Jesus calls us to confront, subvert, love and feed…. a world of Herodian banquets and hungry crowds.

  • Haiku: patient verbal renunciation

    Recently I have begun to write Haiku, a form of Japanese poetry. I have a passion for words – their meanings and sounds, the capacity of words to convey human thought, express human emotion, announce personal intention. In the beginning was the Word – a creative purposeful power that calls into being, that names what is created because it is personal and relational, that creates the reality of goodness by pronouncing what is made – good.

    Haiku is a disciplined shaping of words to express truth with purity and singleness of thought. In its classical form it has three lines of 5 then 7, then 5 syllables. Not much scope for polysyllabic sesquipidalian show-offs then! But a well conceived and constructed Haiku verse can contain depth of emotion, clarity of insight, intensity of thought – so I find it an interesting way of trying to contain – not in the sense of constrain, but in the sense of hold, the meaning of biblical text.

    Doj_roberts_01 A recent example of this for me was Advent, when I spent some time exploring the book of Lamentations in the company of two women commentators – their books are on the sidebar. It seemed important to hear the voices of those acquainted with grief, and with God, in a time when we too hear the lamentations of dispossessed, violated people. I offer only three of what for me became an exercise in reverent articulation, patient verbal renunciation, choosing and arranging in the minimum of words a heart cry for a world gone wrong. I make no claims for them other than that they seek to express the theological concentrate of a potent text.

    Haiku Lamentations

    Zion dismantled.

    Military masterpiece,

    City walls unbuilt.

    ………………………….

    Splintered gates, unhinged.

    Doorways, empty sockets stare;

    Shadows of despair.

    …………………………….

    Sorrow is constrained.

    Grief controlled in bitter verse.

    God, perhaps, has gone.

  • haute cuisine = hot food

    Having just had a routine cholesterol check I thought I’d pen a panegyric in praise of porridge. Forget tasteless glutinous gunge – people queue for this stuff at Mash (haute cuisine establishment!) in London!

    The medical benefits are universally recognised. Here’s a quote:

    "Soluble fibre which is found in fruit, vegetables, peas, beans and of course, oats, helps reduce blood cholesterol. It’s a complex process but, put simply, think of rolled oats as tiny sponges in your body that soak up cholesterol".

    Well it must be good if Nelson Mandela, Bill Gates, Jane Fonda and Tim Henman (oh, and Wallace and Gromit) are celebrity consumers.

    Englishteastore_1935_18263349 Roald Amundsen even took it to the South Pole – I wonder if Scott did – would be a good advert for Scott’s Porridge Oats.(Picture on left illustrates the export version – American spelling! Picture also shows shot putt being thrown over cliff?!)

    Anyway – Sheila and I have porridge at least a couple of times a week. Apart from all the above pluses, it’s supposed to release seritonin, which helps you feel less depressed by the long dark, wet, windy, dreich West of Scotland winters. But making porridge has a down side – Who cleans the pot afterwards? Because when a porridge pot cools it develops a thick gelatinous coating which, when it comes to washing the pot…….yeuk!

    Scouring out the porridge pot,
    Round and round and round.

    Out with all the scraith and scoopery,
    Lift the eely ooly droopery,
    Chase the glubbery slubbery gloopery ,
    Round and round and round.

    Out with all the doleful dithery,
    Ladle out the slimey slithery,
    Hunt and catch the hithery thithery ,
    Round and round and round.

    Out with all the ubbly gubbly,
    On the stove it burns so bubbly,
    Use a spoon and use it doubly,
    Round and round and round.

    For a fact sheet on the dietary benefits of porridge, Scotland’s contribution to health food, see http://www.flahavans.com/home/facts.htm

  • Hauerwas 8: It’s that simple

    Hauerwas_2 " The parable of the sower is not often considered by those concerned with the loss of the church’s status and membership in Europe and America, but it is hard to imagine a text more relevant to the situation of churches in the West. Why we are dying seems very simple. It is hard to be a disciple and be rich. Surely, we may think, it cannot be that simple, but Jesus certainly seems to think that it is that simple. The lure of wealth and the cares of the world produced by wealth quite simply darken and choke our imaginations. As a result, the church falls prey to the deepest enemy of the gospel – sentimentality. The gospel becomes a formula for "giving our lives meaning" without judgment. (Page 129)

    Hauerwas is aksing disconcerting questions in his reading of chapter 13. Does Western culture have soil deep enough to grow deep roots? Is the church in the West so identified with the choking entanglements of consumer capitalism and its promised good life that it will inevitably strangle itself?

    ‘Possessed by possession, we desire to act in the world, often on behalf of the poor, without having to lose our possessions…A church that is shrinking in membership may actually be a church in which the soil of the gospel is being prepared in which deeper roots are possible. (Page 130)

    This is Hauerwas commenting on the text by assertion – which he owns up to on the first page of the commentary anyway. But I am finding myself irked by his overstatements – until I ask, overstating what? Not the gospel – because the inevitable consequence of that gospel is that it calls in question the very things I hold on to tightest. And, yes, if Jesus is calling me, the church,us, to relinquish all the stuff that chokes, to risk being deepened by deprivation – that sounds like an overstatement, which means it is probably gospel truth.

  • emotional and spiritual interrogation

    Howard For about a month I’ve made my way through Eliot’s Four Quartets using Howard’s slim commentary, Dove Descending, as a guide. And Howard is a good guide – not too talkative, not prepared to explain ad nauseam as if you had no eyes of your own, but well informed, not pushing you along too quickly, and clearly in love with his subject.

    I have seldom read a poem more historically specific in its imagery, (the first half of the 20th century). And yet there is in its power and subtlety, unflinching realism about human experience of precious life and inevitable death, penetrating truthfulness about fear and hope, anxiety and aspiration, time and eternity, an unnerving contemporary feel. It isn’t easy poetry – apart from the intellectual artfulness, the technical construction, the precision of language and subversion of form – it is the emotional and spiritual interrogation that takes place when the four poems are read in 2007. These quintessentially modern poems, accurately and specifically, diagnose the symptoms and trace the complexities of the post-modern worldview as it impacts on human existence. And Eliot does so profoundly informed by Christian tradition.

    356996978_1772d0ce84 Time and timelessness, the centrality but elusiveness of human experience, the loss of the metaphysical structures of thought, the "chronological snobbishness" that thinks newest is truest and the accompanying suspicion of meta-narratives; these are some of Eliot’s themes. I know some of what he says doesn’t ‘work’, ‘connect’, with where we are today; what he’d have made of a world wired to the Web, welded to the mobile phone, dissolving into globalised standardisation – I’ve no idea. But if I want to even begin to examine life’s deepest foundations, his is one of the voices I would want to hear.  Why? Because he is honest about how hard Christian faith is, both to hold on to, and to relinquish – because we are caught in the love of the God who is caught in the love of the world.

  • Leadership and Community – which defines which?

    One of my favourite writers complained in one of her books that life was happening too fast, that experiences, conversations, people and thoughts require time to be assimilated. She viewed unassimilated experience as wasteful, an irresponsible squandering of life’s significant moments, a culpable extravagance that failed to learn from other people’s ideas.

    That’s how I feel after a working retreat (oxymoron?), when important conversations, shared times of prayer, intentional time away from the usual routines, were dedicated to giving us space and inclination to think, talk and plan, to dream, grumble and get whatever is in our hearts off our chests! There’s a couple of intriguing questions that I want to think about, (assimilate!!) – then in a day or two suggest some of my (probably tentative) conclusions, so that if you are interested you can offer your perspective, correctives, insight.

    03footwash_s What is the relationship between community and leadership?

    Is leadership individual or corporate? Is it a personal charisma or a community gift?

    If it is not an either/or, how can it be both personal and communal? 

    These kinds of questions are important because if we aim to identify potential leaders, develop gifts of leadership, grow certain kinds of leadership (visionary, enabling, strategic, prophetic etc), it seems to me one way or another they have to come from, emerge from, and find rootedness in the community. Or do they?

    Then there is the Baptist thing. If I ask, how do we develop effective leadership within Baptist communities, what difference does the word Baptist make to the style and implementation of leadership initiatives?

    Is it idealistic to say that in a Baptist fellowship the congregation is the source of leadership as it seeks through prayer, conversation and listening to Scripture, under the superintendence of the Holy Spirit, to discern the mind of Christ together?

    What then, is the role of the prophetic individual? The persuasive motivator, the convincing strategist, the inspirational thinker whose ideas seem exciting, attractive – are these gifted individuals to be muted in a process that seeks the common denominator of communal agreement?   

    Savior_1 Or, put more positively, what in practice does it mean for the body of Christ to function effectively, to act in a co-ordinated and purposeful manner, under the head who is Christ? Specifically, what does leadership look like in a Baptist community, where the word Baptist is definitive as well as descriptive. I mean by that, Baptist as a self-description given content by such identity conferring principles as personal discipleship following after Jesus, covenanted community of shared mission and ministry, co-operative faithfulness to Jesus as revealed in Scripture. What is leadership that emerges from such a context?