Blog

  • The Daily Mail, the Labour Leader, and the Question – Where is the Head of Steam Coming From?

    http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/09/30/article-2439593-1869B7C000000578-761_638x423.jpg

    The row between the Daily Mail and the leader of the Labour Party, Ed Miliband, is a telling example of the nastiness of innuendo, the damning of people by association with deliberately caricatured ideas, the grievous sin of claiming the high moral ground by appealing to the lowest moral common denominator. When a newspaper uses terms such as 'hated Britain' and 'legacy of evil' and 'poisonous creed' as ways of describing an academic Marxist who was a Jewish refugee from Belgium, fleeing to escape from the consequences of National Socialism's military aggression, who served in the Royal Navy, and whose contribution to the cultural, intellectual and social life of our country has been adversarial rather than confirmatory, then I smell a rat, and perhaps a bloated disease ridden one at that.

    That a man who fled Nazism as a terrified teenager, having experienced German right-wing exteremism in its most destructive and evil manifestations, and known at first hand an ideology with a powerful capacity to reconfigure morals and social engineering to suit its own evil ends, that such a man should be damned, and his children attacked for being his children, makes me wonder which of the descriptors of Ralph Miliband has so infuriated the Daily Mail. Was it Belgian, Jewish, Marxist, Socialist, or academic? The paper claims it is the word Marxist they wanted to highlight, and they did so with all the lethal ambiguity loaded into such a word by a paper which stands at the ideologically opposite pole. Was it Socialist, a word clearly so repulsive, it  was used as a sick joke with a photo of Ralph Miliband's grave, headed 'Grave Socialist'. (The belated admission it was an 'error of judgement' makes it sound as if the wrong font was used in the insult). I don't think it was the word Belgian that triggered this landslide of insinuation and hermeneutic malpractice. That he was an academic, who lived in an environment of contested and debated ideas, and whose role in a democarcy is precisely to engage with ideas critically and with intellectual integrity, cannot surely have so offended a newspaper which claims it is defending the integrity of Britain's institutions by allegedly exposing someone who 'hated Britain'. Was it the word Jewish, something Ed Miliband himself mentioned in two consecutive Party Conference speeches, a fact noted in the daily Mail's defence of the original article, and noted with editorial precision linked to a rather wooden allusion to 'the jealous God' (note the negative pejorative) of Deuteronomy (note the cherished words of the Torah).

    My problem in deciding which of those words launched the article – Belgian, Jewish, Marxist, academic – is that whatever the motives any journalist claims, whatever the public interest a paper says it is defending, they write in the murky unhygienic waters of diverse prejudices and dirty politics. The ambiguities of words that have cultural resonances far deeper than their surface dictionary meanings, the suggestiveness of what is said and what is omitted, the bias and blindness of a paper's ideology, right or left, the toxins thrown up by social insecurity, economic panic, and the survival instincts of a culture in moral and existential disarray, – these require of responsible interpreters an hermeneutic of suspicion. No I don't know with certainty what underlies such an attack on a senior politician's father; but neither will I exclude the possibility there are underying agendas that it may be too dangerous to state openly.

    One further thought. There is something intellectually naive about an article that quotes one sentence against the English and their nationalism as proof of lifelong hatred of the country where he found safety, when that sentence was extracted without context from the diary of a 17 year old refugee from Nazi Europe still trying to find a standpoint from which to view his broken terrifying world. Ralph Miliband's ideas and political views, and his view of the world and of Marxism in particular, could hardly be further from my own; likewise the policies and ideas of his son hardly commend themselves to me as the most ethically sound, economically feasible or politically promising. But they should be judged on their merits, not caricatured as Marxist bogey men resurrected to sinister purpose. History is not a predictable catena of causal connections, whatever a tabloid newspaper would like us to believe.

  • “Divinity saturated and clothed his world….” A New Book on George Herbert.


    51aOnMyStaL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_SX385_SY500_CR,0,0,385,500_SH20_OU02_I'm slowly and satisfyingly making my way through John Drury's new book George Herbert's life and poetry, Music at Midnight. Drury's book Painting the Word was an eye opener to the ways in which art provides exegetical images which are their own hermeneutical essays on the biblical text. Along with Jaroslav Pelikan's Jesus Through the Centuries, and Graeme Finaldi's The Image of Christ, which doubled as the National Gallery's catalogue of the exhibition of that name, Drury's book is an important contribution to a revived interest in visual art as exegesis. And I see Richard Harries has a new book due in a few weeks on The Image of Christ in Modern Art.

    Now Drury's book on Herbert comes at the end of years of reading and studying the quintessential Anglican Divine and poet. What makes Drury's book fascinating is the space given to Herbert's world, his early life and the connections between early experiences and the later poems. For example The Collar, with its opening line Drury links to a row breaking out at the table during a meal. "I struck the board, and cried, No more:" The choleric temper of the Herbert brothers, Edward and George are well documented, and Drury exploits the storm of rage between the brothers as the key to understanding a poem which both describes the inner psychology of anger, and the deeper psychological search for peace, harmony and serenity. The form of the poem is erratic, varied line lengths, rhymes and assonance all over the place. As Drury says, "It is an eruption". Such family experience recalled, provides for Herbert familiar experience on which to hang his own religious discontent and spiritual conflict as resentment of life's inner and outer chaos battled in his heart. Until eventually a parental voice addresses him, "Child", to which he replies, "Lord".

    I've read The Collar often enough, and am surprised at the obviousness of the connection Drury makes, but only after he pointed it out is it obvious. And so in other parts of Herbert's experience, for example living near the busy intersection of business and society at Chring Cross, and another fascinating connection between Magdalen Herbert's hospitality in an age of genteel etiquette, and that same etiquette made famous in Herbert's best loved poem, "Love III". More about this fine book later – but here are the two poems, The Collar, and Love III. No wonder Rowan Williams chose Love III as his favourite poem, and T S Eliot admired Herbert enough to echo some of his lines in his own work.

     

    The Collar

    I struck the board, and cried, "No more;
                             I will abroad!
    What? shall I ever sigh and pine?
    My lines and life are free, free as the road,
    Loose as the wind, as large as store.
              Shall I be still in suit?
    Have I no harvest but a thorn
    To let me blood, and not restore
    What I have lost with cordial fruit?
              Sure there was wine
    Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn
        Before my tears did drown it.
          Is the year only lost to me?
              Have I no bays to crown it,
    No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?
                      All wasted?
    Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,
                And thou hast hands.
    Recover all thy sigh-blown age
    On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute
    Of what is fit and not. Forsake thy cage,
                 Thy rope of sands,
    Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee
    Good cable, to enforce and draw,
              And be thy law,
    While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
              Away! take heed;
              I will abroad.
    Call in thy death's-head there; tie up thy fears;
              He that forbears
             To suit and serve his need
              Deserves his load."
    But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild
              At every word,
    Methought I heard one calling, Child!
              And I replied My Lord.
    ……………………….
    Love III
    Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,

            Guilty of dust and sin.


    But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack


            From my first entrance in,


    Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning


            If I lack'd anything.


    "A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";


            Love said, "You shall be he."


    "I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,


            I cannot look on thee."


    Love took my hand and smiling did reply,


            "Who made the eyes but I?"


    "Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame


            Go where it doth deserve."


    "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"


            "My dear, then I will serve."


    "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."


            So I did sit and eat.

    Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
    Guilty of dust and sin.
    But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
    From my first entrance in,
    Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
    If I lacked anything.
    "A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
    Love said, "You shall be he."
    "I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
    I cannot look on thee."
    Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
    "Who made the eyes but I?"
    "Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
    Go where it doth deserve."
    "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
    "My dear, then I will serve."
    "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
    So I did sit and eat. – See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16121#sthash.fkrHOZe9.dpuf
    Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
    Guilty of dust and sin.
    But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
    From my first entrance in,
    Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
    If I lacked anything.
    "A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here":
    Love said, "You shall be he."
    "I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
    I cannot look on thee."
    Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
    "Who made the eyes but I?"
    "Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
    Go where it doth deserve."
    "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
    "My dear, then I will serve."
    "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
    So I did sit and eat. – See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16121#sthash.fkrHOZe9.dpuf
  • The Gospel According to John and the Fathomless Depths of Grace upon Grace……

    Petworth House © NTPL
    The portrait of St John the Evangelist, is by Adam Elsheimer, and provides the front cover for F D Bruner's commentary on John. I hadn't heard of Elsheimer till I read the small attribution at the back of Bruner's book. I like this painting – which is hardly the last word in art criticism! But it's just the truth. I suppose it can be analysed and compared with other contemporary artists, influences traced and duly noted, ethos and provenance established. Then it can be examined for symbolism and the whole painting subjected to hermenecutical scrutiny. Maybe some other time. I just like it – simplicity with enough of mystery, a serpent lifted up and a chalice held for blessing, and the background of a world both vague and detailed.

    As to Bruner's commentary, near 1300 pages of commentary on a gospel would once have been considered definitive. But Bruner has aimed at something more realistic, and satisfying. This commentary is a receptacle for the gathered fruit of decades of study and teaching, and at least a third of its length is given over to sections on the history of interpretation of the text. These read like catenas of wisdom from Chrysostom, Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, Calvin, Henry, Bengel, Godet, Meyer, Westcott, and then we come to the 20th century with Bultmann, Dodd, Brown, Schnacknburg and beyond. It is a vade mecum on John, and for me at least, is a feast of fun to read.

    No it won't displace Raymond Brown as my most loved and used commentary on John; and I still persist with Barrett as the commentary that taught me how to actually enjoy NT Greek and its fruits; and yes there is an embarrassment of riches on John's Gospel from Ashton, Dodd, Carson, Moloney, Michaels, O'Day, Keener, Morris, Beasley Murray, Lincoln, Witherington, Ridderbos to the too easily overlooked John Marsh in the Pelican Commentary Series which manages to combine common sense with spiritual acumen in exploring a complex text. And then there's Richard Bauckham's long promised commentary on the Greek Text, still to appear and looked forward to But John's Gospel is an embarrassingly rich text, and coming back to Bruner, his is a commentary that any preacher worth her salt will value and enjoy!

    Here are the words of Rabbi Johannan ben Zakkai about Torah, with pardonable exaggeration enthusing about the value of our greatest teachers:

    "If all heaven were a parchment, and all the trees produced pens, and all the oceans were ink, they would not suffice to inscribe the wisdom I have received from my teachers of Torah; and yet from the wisdom of the wise I have enjoyed only so much as the water that a fly who plunges into the sea can remove".

    In much less hyperbolic terms, James Denney could refer to Johannine and Pauline theology as waters in which we " hear the plunge of lead into fathomless depths…"

  • Lament for a Church With Way Too Low Expectations of God

     

    "We have lost our nerve and our sense of direction

    and have turned the divine initiative into a human enterprise…

    And all these drab infidelities are committed

    not because too little power is available to us

    but because the power so far exceeds the petty scale we want to live by.

    God has made us a little lower than the angels,

    while our highest ambition is to live a little above the Joneses.

    We are looking for a sensible family-sized God,

    dispensing pep pills or tranquilisers as required

    with a Holy Spirit who is a baby's comforter.

    No wonder the Lord of terrible aspect

    is too much for us…..

    (John V Taylor, The Go Between God (London: SCM, 1972) 48.

    Slightly dated now in its langauge, but this remains a powerful and original exploration of the work and reality of the Holy Spirit in creation, church and human experience. This remains an early milestone book in my theological awakening.


    DSC01550

    The photo of a battered Bible in a country church notwithstanding, the Word of the Lord endureth forevermore!

  • Brambles and Victoria Plums – as good as it gets!

    What a year for blackberries, brambles as i call them. I can remember one year picking brambles after a hard frost and it was the easiest picking ever. Mind you the fingers were numb in minutes. But the frozen brambles came away so easily and into the margarine tub. There are few tastes from my childhood more vivid and memory jogging than bramble jellly. I still love it.

    Obviously so did Seamus Heaney – is this poem not a marvel of long ago reminiscence, remembered delight, mouth-watering recall of those moments when our taste-buds learned how to explode?

    Blackberry Picking, Seamus Heaney

    At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
    Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
    You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
    Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
    Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
    Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
    Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots
    Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
    Round hayfields, cornfields and potato drills
    We trekked and picked until the cans were full…

    While on the subject of wonderful fruit – it's the Victoria plum season, and oh my goodness, apart from chocolate, I happily forego all other sweets and treats to eat my fill of these fruits of Eden. You think an apple is a temptation……. 🙂

  • An email from America from a Rowan Williams Fan!

    The other day I received an email from Meri, who came across this blog by accident. It seemed to me to be the kind of response that makes blog writing worthwhile rather than a self-indulgent personal platform. The following is her email and my reply – I marvel at the way friendship, fellowship and shared experience are possible and made rich with meaning through such serendipitous actions as Googling a ridiculously erudite ex-Archbishop of Canterbury and ending up with, well, me :))
    ………………………….
    "Serve God wittily in the tangle of their minds"

    I love that.

    Hi
    James,

    My name is Meri.  I came upon you by way of searching for Rowan Williams.  I found him as holy fool with a delightful photograph of  him
    looking quite mad.  If it were not for reading Rowan Williams  "Writing in
    the Dust"  contemplations after 911,  I would not have become the lonely
    G-d botherer that I am.  This kind of writing was  nothing like the messages
    in the church of my youth,  Church of England.  That kind of religion never
    "took" on me and I left as soon as I was able.  But,  the biblical
    narratives and Christian values are deeply embedded in
    me.

    Loneliness and loss has dogged me all my life,  leading me to a love of literature and a life of the mind.  Reality has disappointed. Fate
    has not been kind.  Now, I see myself as an isolated, literary and poetic
    soul who has never found a place to fit in.  Certainly not in
    establishments.

    I discovered theology through RW and it spoke to me, made
    sense, was not simplistic. I am not an academic, but reasonably
    educated, literate and thoughtful.  If I am to untangle my mind,  I need help.   Where to find it?  I believe my only option is to reach out on-line to those with similar interests.  The idea of an on-line holy book
    club is appealing.  Have you heard of such a thing?  Do you know of any
    serious theology forums? and would they allow a novice in?  (I am 82 years
    of age) a little slower, but still teachable…… Do you think this is a
    good idea?

    I have a dog eared copy of "Open to Judgement"  which has
    been invaluable for my sanity.  An essay on "The Abbe Huvelin"  a theology for neurotic and suffering souls was written especially for me.  I am 
    indebted. I used to follow Dr. William's web site when he was
    Archbishop, and I miss it.  Have you read any of his recent books, and
    would you recommend one?   Perhaps he has written another phrase or
    paragraph  especially for me………

    My devotions are eccentric. 
    They are connected with a humming bird I feed and will help through the
    winter.  And with the barns I visit where the police horses live.  Last
    week Dalton, the horse,  was all gussied up ready to visit a dying child at
    the hospital.  These kinds of things let in the light and help with the
    untangling.

    The photo of the heather is lovely,

    best
    wishes,  Meri

    And my reply
    Hello Meri!

    What a
    delightful letter, thank you! You are precisely the kind of person for
    whom much of the blog is written. I'm glad it's of some help.

    I too miss
    Rowan Williams. The fact that some said he was too clever to be Archbishop says
    more about dumbing down leadership to management, than it does about someone who
    is chosen under God to be a spiritual leader. Have you had a look at his book
    Tokens of Trust? Apart from his more substantial theological work, he writes
    some books as a brilliant man whose intellectual power is used in the service of
    faith seeking understanding. This is a really good introduction to the Christian
    faith through the thick glasses of Rowan!

    Can I also suggest you get a
    hold of Benjamin Myers book Christ the Stranger. The Theology of Rowan Williams.
    I think it will give you a lot to think about because it is what a good
    introduction does – it gives you Rowan Williams rather than someone else's much
    less interesting opinions about it!!

    Now I haven't personally gone
    looking for an online theological forum but there must be such things. An online
    theological reading group – now that's a good idea though again not one I've
    pursued, so can't help much there. You may see yourself as a novice, but someone
    whose life experience is a rich tapestry of light and shadow, and whose
    spirituality is formed in the hard places as well as the comfort zones, is no
    novice in theology, if theology is to be lived as well as thought.

    I
    wonder – would you allow me to put your letter on the blog – I can remove your
    name if you wish. I think it would encourage others who struggle with other
    people's claimed certainties and closed timidity in the face of the mystery and
    meaning of that Reality whom we name as God, and have come to know through
    Christ. No pressure whatsoever if you feel hesitant. Just let me
    know.

    Shalom, and give dalton an apple on my
    behalf,


    Well as you can see, Meri was happy for our correspondence to be published, and she sent a photo of Dalton – I need to convert it from a bitmap file to one this platform supports – I can't work it out, any suggestions? 
  • Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels (Second Edition) – a no brainer purchase.


    You know you're getting on a bit when you are excited about a complete revision and expansion of a book you bought in its first edition over 20 years ago, and have used regularly and gladly all that time. Generations of theological students and pastors keen to do their own exegetical digging have benefited from the IVP black dictionaries on the New and Old Testaments. The Dictionary of the OT Prophets was published a year or two ago completing the full set of Black Dictionaries. The Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels was published 21 years ago, and now needs updating and made consistent with the rest of the set. I guess what we have is a changing continuity with this project, aiming to keep the scholarship current – and for that IVP are to be congratulated.

    I've used every one of the IVP Black Dictionaries frequently, profitably and I can think of fewer big volumes that are such value for money. They have well conceived subject indices at the back making it possible to pursue obscure or minor themes through the lens of the major articles. The Jesus and the Gospels volume has a detailed index of gospel texts allowing for further chasing of exegetical detail (a full scripture index would be much too cumbersome).

    The pre-publication description on Amazon shows the scope and quality of what is on offer. No I haven't seen the revised edition. It has almost the same number of pages, but as you'll see from the pre-pub. extract below, it is almost entirely a new book:

    How can undergraduate students, seminarians, people in professional
    ministry, leaders in local churches and other Christian organizations,
    even academic scholars, stay abreast of the range of contemporary study
    of Jesus and the Gospels? How can the fruit of vital study of Jesus and
    the Gospels in recent years help to animate our reading of and
    interaction with the Gospels?

    When it first appeared some twenty
    years ago, the 'Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels' was concerned to
    address exactly these kinds of needs. This revision of the Dictionary
    follows the same path, though now with new content and up-to-date
    bibliographies, as well as a host of new contributors. Some ninety
    percent of the original material has been replaced, with most previous
    entries assigned to a fresh list of scholars. A number of new articles
    have been introduced, and a handful of articles from the first edition
    have been updated in light of ongoing research.

    I await the arrival of the second generation of this Dictionary with impatience. What will I do with the old one – well what do you do with old friends? You don't sell them, recycle them, dump them or pulp them! You look after them, you find space for them, and if you can find a caring home for them, that would be good!

  • The Sermon on the Mount in Scotland!

    DSC01591
    In Scotland there aren't many lilies of the field – maybe some red poppies growing wild. But if Jesus had preached the Sermon on the Mount near Banchory (The Sermon on Scolty Hill), he'd still have said, 'Not even Solomon in all his purple glory can compete with Scottish heather in August.

    The idea that Jesus might speak with a Scottish accent makes for interesting exegesis and fresh translation – when the disciples gave the weans a row for giving Jesus hassle, Jesus said to the disciples, "Gonnae no dae that!"

    DSC01588

  • Writing and Sanctity


    _38153905_potok_ap300I first read a Chaim Potok novel when I was 23. I opened the orange penguin edition of The Chosen on the top deck of a Glasgow bus on its way from Sauchiehall Street to Glasgow University. It was raining, mid afternoon and the street lights were already on. I was in the front seat, and I've never lost the child's fascination with travelling upstairs with a drivers-eye view, and particularly the wavy swing of the bus going round a tight corner, more exaggerated from on high.

    I was soon immersed in a very different world of Hasidic Jewish culture, in pre-war Brooklyn, a society of Talmudic Judaism which was intense, fervent, strange and fiercely defensive. That book changed my entire view of Judaism, Jewishness and provided me with an entry into a world I have come to value, to some extent understand, and to sense at times a deep affinity with those who take prayer, worship, obedience and reverent love for the sacred texts of the Hebrew Bible with life affirming seriousness. Since then I've read Potok's novels, studied A J Heschel's volumes of philosophy and theology, much of Martin Buber's philosophy, immersed myself in Denise Levertov's poetry and essays, consulted Shalom Paul and Moshe Greenberg's commentaries on Amos, Isaiah and Ezekiel, revelled in Robert Alter's literary studies and translations, wrestled with the moral dilemmas of Elie Wiesel holding a world to account for the attempted murder of a people, and worked through the often dense but brilliant writing of George Steiner.

    It wouldn't be true to say I owe all these intellectual field trips to discovering Potok's work. But there's no doubt my own theological worldview has been positively enriched by such encounters; my awareness of the truth and value of other faith traditions has been sensitised, and in turn my own learned lessons in humility have encouraged an openness and receptiveness to the truth that others bring to us as their gift. All this triggered by reading Conversations with Chaim Potok, in which he explains why and how he wrote the novels, and in particular, his concern to explore the experience of modern Jewish communities  where people live at the core of two cultures, and in a nexus of colliding values.

    Here is his apologia for writing 'at its best':

    "Writing at its best is an exalted state, an unlocking of the unconscious and imagination and a contact with sanctity."

    I have a feeling that Heschel, Buber, Levertov, Shalom Paul and George Steiner would underline that passage with a tick in the margin. If you haven't read Potok, be it far from me to tell you what to do, but….

  • Meditation on a Window on a Vanished Past.

    This is a photo taken earlier this summer.

    I was going to write a poem about it.

    On reflection it is already a poem – visual, evocative, suggestive.

    Weathered paint, cracked pointing, crumbling stone,

    sashes, lintel and frame worn away with the wind.

    A window of opportunities taken? Perhaps not, now lost.

    No mere hole in the wall, an apperture of light,

    illuming the human,the homely, the holy.

    DSC01344
    In 200 years, what has been seen looking through this window? Who lived and left here? Whose stories unfolded, now forgotten? This weather worn window once welcomed someone home.