Abstractions

Christians, alcohol and drunkenness

2012-01-26T12:33:00.000+02:00

A few days ago, I read a brief commentary on Genesis 9:18-29 This is the passage where Noah plants and harvest a vineyard, invents some kind of wine, drinks it, and then falls asleep in the nude. One of his sons sees him; the others reverse into the tent and cover him up. Reading the passage I noticed that while Noah is upset with the son who was disrespectful (did he, perhaps, laugh at his dad's nakedness? Make some lewd comment? Try to persuade his siblings to take a peek?) the passage does not in any way pass judgement on Noah himself.

So I was rather surprised that the commentary focused only briefly on the different behaviours of Noah's sons, and then made quite a big deal about what it called the 'sin' of Noah's drunkenness. It was making the point that even people as righteous as Noah can fall into temptation, and that it's easy for all of us to trip up over relatively small issues. Undoubtedly true... but I didn't feel that it was actually relevant in this case.

Disclaimer: I am not, in any way, a champion of alcohol. I don't personally drink it at all, as I don't like it. I very much dislike the behaviour of people who have had too much to drink, even when they're just at the slightly silly stage, and I am well aware that drinking makes drivers dangerous and causes some people to turn violent. It's expensive, it's addictive, and although a glass or two of wine may be beneficial to our health, it certainly isn't good in excess.

However, just because something is harmful in excess, and under certain situations does not make it automatically sinful. I know that there are some Christians who believe that all the references to wine in the New Testament actually refer to unfermented grape juice. This suggests that they have not looked at the passages in any detail, and also that they have no idea about the times of grape harvests in the Middle East. Without the benefits of freezers or tetrapak processing, unfermented grape juice would only have been available between about August and October in Palestine, where Jesus lived as a man. By Passover (March, usually) the only possible way to drink the 'fruit of the vine' was in its fermented state.

In addition, I can't avoid thinking about Jesus' first miracle, where he launched his public ministry. It's described in John's Gospel, chapter 2. Jesus was at a wedding with his friends, when the wine ran out. Did he give an impromptu sermon about the evils of alcohol? Did he tell a parable about the need to be prepared, the kind that featured later on in his teaching career?

No.

He used his power as the Son of God to save the public humiliation of the bride's father, by transforming ordinary water into wine.

And yes, it would have been regular fermented wine. Good quality wine, too. The wedding host makes a comment about how impressive it is to bring out top wine at this stage in the party. Most people, he says, serve the best wine first and then produce cheaper wine when the guests have drunk so much that they can't really tell the difference. So Jesus is actually producing high-class wine, even though the guests have reached this stage where their discernment is impaired.

Quite startling, really, even if - like me - you've grown up in a culture where Christians are happy to drink alcohol. Jesus is apparently condoning not just a glass or two, but continued drinking at a lively party.

I started this post by thinking about Noah, who lived several thousand years before the famous wedding in Cana. Possibly he made the first wine that was ever grown. Prior to the flood, people were corrupt and violent, but there is no mention of their being drunk. So it's quite possible that Noah had no idea what he was producing when he made some wine. Maybe it was a happy accident - he wondered how bad some old grape juice was, and found that it was surprisingly good. Or perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing - the passage doesn't say.

Either way, Noah drank a lot of wine. And then he fell asleep. He didn't hit his sons or beat his wife, he didn't tear the tent down, or smash crockery. He didn't take his donkey out. He didn't even fall down comatose outside his tent. He went in, and took off his robe, and then fell asleep - apparently - before he had time to cover himself up.

Is that sin? I don't see it. Perhaps he had a headache when he woke up - the natural consequence of over-indulging. Undoubtedly his actions were the catalyst for his son's bad behaviour that upset Noah so much when he learned about it (but then, who would have told him? His other, holier-than-thou sons tattling...?). So it was certainly a pity that this happened. I hope Noah learned his lesson, and was more careful in future.

But sin?

When the law had not been given, and when wine was apparently God-given - and, later, sanctioned by Jesus?

Somehow, I don't think so. It seems to me that, instead, Noah's rather dramatic condemnation of his son's actions (driven, quite possibly, by embarrassment as much as anything) was his sin in this story.

I would be interested to know how others see it.

The 'third place'

2010-11-10T14:49:00.002+02:00

Today, still reading the intriguing book about Starbucks and the Gospel, I came across the concept of the 'third place'. The idea, apparently is that the home is our 'first place', and those who live there are, I suppose, our first community. The workplace - if we have one - or, I suppose, school or college, if relevant, is our 'second place'. And then any other socialising or community gatherings happen in the 'third place' wherever that might be. The book, naturally, implied that Starbucks coffee houses are ideal 'third places'.

The main features of these 'third places', apparently, are that they should be open to anyone, with some regulars, but freely welcoming newcomers. They should be a place to relax, with a sense of fun, and where there's plenty of conversation.

I immediately thought of the traditional British country pubs, where farmers and other workers would congregate in evenings, not to get drunk but to share a few pints of beer, and perhaps have a sandwich, and talk about their days, and perhaps play a few games of darts. Women, traditionally, would have their coffee mornings and sewing circles and so on. Terribly sexist of course. But these did provide a sense of community, separate (for the men) from their workplace, and (for the women) from their home, where they also worked. British pubs still exist, usually with meals available, and attracting women as well as men these days. But so many women are in paid employment that there are considerably fewer women's gatherings during the week, in most circles.

The book suggested that churches used to provide a 'third place' for Christians. In some cases, they still do. Sometimes people arrive early for a Sunday gathering, to spend time catching up with their friends; there may be time to talk within the service - if, for instance, the Anglican 'passing of the peace' takes place - and there's almost certainly half an hour or more for coffee and chat afterwards. Perhaps the church community has Mums-and-Tots, Day Centres, Tea Dances, Youth Groups, Scouting organisations, Coffee mornings and more, providing opportunities for both regulars and visitors to drop in, and socialise, and relax.

Sadly (from my perspective) too many church services focus on music and 'teaching' (which fails to teach anything to the majority). Congregations increase in size, and many church buildings are not conducive to socialising. When people drive several miles for a Sunday morning service, they're unlikely to pop back during the week to catch up with their friends. So the Sunday service may provide something useful - a way of connecting, of worshipping God (for those who like to sing), of learning (for those who are auditory learners), and perhaps, for anyone, a time to be quiet and to listen to God in the company of others. But they don't provide the 'third place' in the sense used in the Starbucks book. Which, perhaps, explains why so many people hang out at coffee bars or restaurants, or on the beach, or anywhere else where they can hope to find a sense of community.

The Internet has become a 'third place' for many. The astounding success of sites like Facebook, and the continuation of online forums and chatrooms suggests that we all long for connection, even if we can't find it in 'real life'. When, on (thankfully rare) occasions our Internet connection is down, I feel almost bereft. But for me, at home most of the time, the Internet feels like my 'second place'. My work, such as it is, involves writing web pages, and researching, and emailing. I socialise there too, and play games (mainly Scrabble).

So I'm thankful for friends who invite us to their homes, or who come to ours, for informal 'cell groups' of Christians. For me, friends' home are my 'third place', whether we hang out and chat, or play a board game. Perhaps that's why I have little desire to visit a coffee house.

The Gospel and... Starbucks?

2010-11-03T21:07:00.002+02:00

Two or three years ago, my husband was given the book The Gospel According to Starbucks: Living with a Grande Passion by one of our sons. Interesting title. Interesting book, so my husband told me.

I only picked it up recently, intrigued by the title, and wanting something different to read.

I like post-modern books, in general. I like Christian books which offer a new perspective on faith. And I was curious to know how the author would approach his subject.

I haven't finished yet. When I do, I'll review it on my books blog. But the first few chapters have raised some interesting questions in my mind. The author talks about Jesus being radical, relational, exciting. About the Christian life being a great adventure, with multi-sensory thrills. I'm paraphrasing, but that's the idea. Fair enough. Too many people see the Christian life as boring or restrictive, God as some benign Santa character in the sky. Life with Jesus can and should be much more exciting than we often see it.

However... my problem with the book is that the author keeps comparing the Christian life with Starbucks. A coffee shop. Yes, a new idea in coffee shops when it started - offering easy chairs to lounge in, free wi-fi, books to browse, snacks to eat, and a large number of variations on the theme of coffee. I thought perhaps there might be fifty or sixty possible ways to drink coffee at Starbucks. According to this book, there are several thousand. Fair enough. One can customise one's drink, to a pretty cool degree. And, of course, pay through the nose.

But still... Starbucks is not actually different, in principle, from any other food chain. Yes, the first ones may have been radical. But the owners found a formula, it was popular, and so they started spreading around the world, training their staff to produce exactly the same drinks, to the same specifications, wherever they happened to be.

Isn't that pretty much what McDonald's did?

Except that McDonald's products are pretty inexpensive. Junk, to be sure. I suppose paying anything at all for fast 'food' is rather a waste of money, but it's popular, and cheap, and at least provides calories. The shops are clinical white, with fairly uncomfortable seats. I doubt if anyone lingers in McDonald's for longer than they have to.

Starbucks is the other extreme. Ridiculously expensive, comfortable seats, and they want people to hang around. On the face of it, the only thing it has in common with McDonald's (other than coming from the USA) is the enormous numbers of calories that can be consumed in a single portion.

So, the originators have made a fortune, the advertising worked, the product sells. Fair enough, that's how capitalism works. Nobody has to go to either of these chains if they don't want to.

But to compare Starbucks with the Gospel? Isn't that just a little sacrilegious? The uniqueness of each human being created by God is surely far more significant than umpteen thousand blends of coffee, identical whether ordered in Singapore or Switzerland or Spain. The artificiality of the comfort and supposed friendliness of the Starbucks baristas (carefully trained to give the required responses and make the exact drinks required) bears no resemblance at all to the reality of life with Jesus.

I guess it doesn't help that I'm not a huge fan of Starbucks coffee anyway. I like it - well, the two or three varieties I've tried, when nowhere else is available for wi-fi - but didn't find it as good as either Costa Coffee, or the Coffee Bean chain, popular in Asia.

And since nothing would convince me to buy Starbucks coffee first thing in the morning - I am plebeian enough to prefer my Maxwell House instant - many of the book's analogies rather leave me cold.

Perhaps this makes me rather a has-been, albeit a mostly post-modern one. Or is it just that I can see through the hype, and fail to see why an over-priced coffee shop should have my custom (other than those necessary occasions mentioned) merely because it has an internationally recognised image?

Life stages and patterns

2010-11-02T20:25:00.002+02:00

This has been something of a year of milestones, as I shall no doubt mention when we write our annual Christmas newsletter at some point in the next few weeks. I celebrated my 50th birthday. We celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary. In between those two events, our older son became engaged, planning to be married next year.

Thirty years. It feels like a lifetime, but then I still feel about 26 on the inside. How can I possibly have been married that many years? How can my sons, who were children for such a short time, now be young men with their own lives, separate from ours ? And most of all, how can I be fifty years old?

I'm not particularly worried about advancing chronology. I'm not embarrassed about my age, or the lines on my face, or the grey hairs slowly creeping in. I don't hide any of them - I don't see the point in pretending to be younger than I am. I am still in good health, for which I am thankful. And as I sit here in my jeans and a tee-shirt, I can't quite reconcile it with the way that people in their fifties seemed so elderly when I was in my teens. Even when I was in my twenties. I vaguely assumed that one day I'd start wanting to wear tweedy skirts and tights ('panty-hose' in the USA), and court shoes. But I, and other people my age, still dress the way we did when we were 20. Perhaps younger people see us as old-fashioned in our styles, but I like to be comfortable.

The scary thing about being 50 is that, most likely, I am now more than half-way through my life. At 45, I could say cheerfully that I was half-way to ninety. My grandmother started to seem old when she passed 90; that seemed about right to me. I'm from a fairly long-lived family, on the whole. Barring accidents, I probably have a good chance of living into my nineties. But very few people make it to 100. Would I even want to? I don't know. My grandmother didn't.

Of course, it feels like a very long time since my childhood. Another 50 years - even another 40 years while I still feel energetic - is also a long time. I feel the years spreading out around me; my schooldays passed, my early married life gone by; the children, born, grown, and moved out. Our 'nest' became empty nearly two-and-a-half years ago and I found it very upsetting at first. But we've grown accustomed to it; we welcome our sons home when they come to stay, but it's not likely that either of them will live here again. So the future seems calmer, more settled. Unlike many people my age, I have no hankering to take university courses, or study further. Living abroad, there's no real chance of getting a job, even if I were looking for one. I like to look after the house, and cook, and spend time with friends, and write emails and blogs, and run my websites.

Still, my main question remains: what will I, primarily, do for the next forty or so years?

The subsidiary question is: do I need to know? Or do I continue living one day at a time, doing what needs to be done today, and letting tomorrow take care of itself? It sounds like a Biblical way of living; the problems are (1) I don't necessarily know what needs to be done today (2) even if I do, I don't necessarily do it (3) If I'm to do something significant, such as write a book, or build a new website, I need to have the ideas, and spend many months working on them.

I'm not unhappy. I'm basically a contented person, thankful that there is no urgent need for me to find paid employment. But I do sometimes wonder what the pattern of the future will hold.

Procrastination. Big time.

2010-11-01T19:57:00.002+02:00

I am a little startled to see that I have not updated this blog for almost two years. I've certainly thought about it, from time to time. I have updated my other blogs, periodically; I certainly haven't lost the random abstractions that swirl around my mind. But somehow, catching them and squashing them flat so that they can be put in words isn't always easy.

At least, that's my excuse. Procrastination is part of my nature; something I've had to learn to accept, and work through. I read an excellent book recently, 'Writing on Both Sides of the Brain', which inspired and enthused me more than any of the many other books I have read (and am still reading) about writing. It encouraged me to work out what I gain from procrastination, and to work through it. It gave exercises to enhance my creativity while quietening the internal critic/judge/editor, at least in the initial stage of writing. It gave techniques to help me tap into my creative side, and actually get some writing done....

... and within a couple of days of finishing the book, I'd forgotten most of them. Writing first thing in the morning before coffee was one of them. Before coffee?? I can barely hold a pen at all, let alone write before my first caffeine of the day. But yes, writing almost first thing can be energising and inspiring. As can just writing randomly rather than sitting staring at the paper. Or computer. But as soon as I'd put the book back on a shelf, and reviewed it, my enthusiasm waned away.

November is a month for writing. NaNoWriMo encourages people to write novels, 2000 words per day over the thirty days of the month. I tried it a few years ago, and got about a third of the way through. I thought about it this year, but am quite out of inspiration. Or maybe I'm just procrastinating still further. Those who can't quite bring themselves to writing a novel can, instead, join NaBloPoMo - the idea being to post every day on a blog. I've done that before on my Cyprus blog. I'm wondering if I can do it on my book reviews blog, which would, of course, also mean finishing reading one book every day in November - something that definitely sounds a good plan, although I would have to cheat slightly and read more children's books than normal.

And maybe, just maybe, I could start writing posts on this blog again too.

Remember, remember, the 5th of November...

2008-11-05T15:23:00.002+02:00

Brits around my age or older will probably recognise the quotation in the title. The whole rhyme goes:

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot;
For I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

Yes, today is Guy Fawkes Day, otherwise known as Bonfire Night, when people in the UK remember how Guy Fawkes, back in 1605, attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. He failed in the attempt, and after being captured by the authorities was tortured, then received the appalling punishment of being hung, drawn and quartered.

And every year since then, the Brits celebrate November 5th with fireworks and a huge bonfire, on which a 'guy' (usually little more than a bunch of rags) is burned. Most of them probably know little about why Guy Fawkes tried to do what he did. Some of them might even think it would have been a good idea to destroy the Houses of Parliament. In the UK, we tend to distrust politicians. All of them. They're a product of the media, these days. They have make-up artists and speech writers, and plenty of advisors well versed in diplomacy... and - naturally - say what they think the public want to hear. What matters most of all is getting votes.

Or am I too cynical, having watched, and thoroughly enjoyed, 'Yes Minister' and 'Yes Prime Minister', and also having read the books?

I don't know who first said something to the effect that whoever we vote for, a politician gets elected. But it could well have been a Brit. We don't tend to be polarised in our opinions. Like the sky in November, they're usually various shades of grey.

So it's a bit ironic that most of the world woke up this November 5th to the announcement that Barack Obama is President of the USA. I, for one, am relieved to hear it; but I'm British enough that I don't think he's the answer to all the problems currently facing America, or indeed the world. I just think that he, and the package he stands for, is the preferred option out of the two possibilities.

Steve, a long-standing email friend from South Africa, wrote an excellent post entitled 'Politics and Pessimism' in his blog 'Notes from the Underground'. I had not thought about the similarities between Obama and Tony Blair, but now it's pointed out, I can see it. I did have high hopes for Blair, an apparently charming, polite, young man when he went into office as UK Prime Minister. But, as the old saying goes, 'All power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. I don't know if it's possible to be a world leader and avoid corruption, even if the initial intentions are good.

I was pleased to see an article on the BBC news site, which I also agree with whole-heartedly: President Obama and the World.

And for those who are convinced that all Christians should have voted for McCain purely on his pro-life position, this post - and the many comments that follow - is thought-provoking: The One-Issue Abortion Vote.

Lead us not into temptation...

2008-10-06T15:50:00.004+03:00

I heard a sermon on the subject of temptation yesterday. A few simple points were made: temptation is not a sin (Jesus, after all, was tempted); God does not send temptation, but does permit it; temptation can help us to grow in the Christian life.

I think that was all, though the sermon was about twenty-five minutes and looked at several verses of Scripture. No stories, or anecdotes, as far as I can recall. It was intended for new Christians, so I didn't actually expect to learn anything new.

Still, it got me thinking about the subject of temptation. It all seemed more straightforward in Biblical times. People were tempted to gross immorality, or violence, or idol worship, or similarly unpleasant activities. All clearly wrong. Somehow life these days seems filled with grey areas. I don't, personally, get tempted to commit violence or theft or adultery. Nor do most of my friends. I don't even use bad language, or covet my neighbours' oxen...

Of course, I might gossip a bit, or think negative thoughts about someone, or criticise the preacher... but I don't experience great temptation related to these things. There's no feeling of being caught beforehand between doing the right or wrong path. When I'm in the midst of people grumbling, I usually join in. It's only afterwards that I feel it may have been wrong.

My temptations are more towards what we used to call the sins of omission. I should really clean the windows/water the plants/tidy my paperwork, but I'm involved in reading/blogging/email, so I procrastinate. Maybe I do the chores later, maybe I don't. Nobody gets hurt either way, and I sometimes wonder if it really matters. Does God actually mind if our windows stay dirty for an extra couple of days?

Then there's the temptation to excess, in an activity which isn't sinful, such as reading books. At one extreme, it's clearly a good thing to spend, say, half an hour each morning reading an inspirational Christian book. I don't suppose anyone would object, either, to half an hour at night reading a light novel, to help me fall asleep. We might quibble over which novels are constructive, and whether some might be harmful to read, but in general I think most people would agree that reading, in moderation, is a good thing. So is eating, and taking exercise, and writing email. Even more controversial activities such as playing computer games, drinking wine, or eating chocolate have their place.

But if I spend fifteen hours every day reading books, or if I become so engrossed in my computer that I neglect everything else, or if I eat so much junk that I start to destroy my body by becoming overweight and unfit - or, indeed, if I make a god out of exercise and spend every hour trying to stay thin and muscular - then I have fallen into sin.

So far, that's clear.

The problem is, there's a huge mid-ground between those extremes. And some people want to measure everything. If it's perfectly fine to eat two squares of chocolate once a week, after Sunday lunch, but it's wrong to eat twenty bars of chocolate every day, what about two squares of chocolate every day? Or one small bar every day? Where do we draw the line?

The thing is, there's no such line. It's not that simple. Each of us is different, and temptation hits us in different ways. If I eat a bar of chocolate on Sunday afternoon, and enjoy it, I haven't done anything wrong. However if I eye up another bar, knowing I'm actually full and really don't need any more chocolate, then I'm facing temptation. Someone else might eat three bars before having that fleeting feeling that they've had sufficient. Someone else might not ever be tempted to over-indulge with chocolate. Personally I don't drink alcohol or smoke, so I don't face any temptations as far as those are concerned, but other people struggle with them every day.

My 'sin', according to Enneagram theory, is that of sloth. Not that I don't do anything, but that I procrastinate about what really matters. I know that's true, and my main temptation is to put off what I know to be important. If God is prompting me to write an article, and I decide today is the day to clean the windows, then I am facing temptation. It's hard to see it as wrong when I'm tempted to do something positive, but if it's not the way God is leading me, then it's not what I should be doing.

Head, Heart and Hypocrisy?

2008-05-23T15:08:00.000+03:00

Is it preferable that 1000 people die in an earthquake, or that one person hurts their finger?

It's a no-brainer, isn't it? One person in a bit of pain is almost nothing when compared to the agony and loss of even ten people in an earthquake, let alone 1000.

Now imagine two scenarios:

1. You see on the news that 1000 more people have perished in an earthquake on the other side of the globe

2. Someone accidentally closes a door on your little finger, almost crushing it completely

Which one causes you more physical pain? Obviously the second.

And a more tricky question: which one causes you more emotional pain?

If we're honest, it's probably the second one, too. I am much angrier with the person who was so careless with the door than I am with God for causing an earthquake. I suspect most people react similarly out of proportion.

I hadn't really thought about this until it was mentioned - almost in passing - during a sermon I heard last Sunday. I don't remember what the rest of the talk was about, but I was very much struck by the throwaway question as to which of these two situations caused me the more pain.

Perhaps I wouldn't have thought much more about it, but in one of those non-coincidences that God seems to delight in sometimes, I'm currently reading Philip Yancey's 'I Was Just Wondering' which basically attempts to answer - or at least ponder on - some frequently asked questions about God and the Christian life.

In his chapter 'Scorpions, Worms and Missiles', Yancey makes exactly the same point: when he was working in a refugee camp in Somalia, he found himself a lot more worried about the possibility of being stung by a scorpion than by the knowledge that 10,000 of the refugees were likely to die within months.

He goes on to quote the book of Jonah, where God made a similar point in a dramatic way. Jonah really didn't care about the thousands of people in Ninevah who were destined to destruction if they didn't change their ways. But he got very angry when God sent a worm to destroy the tree that was shading him from the sun.

I suppose it's human nature that we are most emotionally involved in things that affect us or our loved ones directly. It's basically rather selfish - or, at least, self-centred - but perhaps it's a mechanism to protect us. It would be impossible to give vast emotional energy towards caring deeply about every world disaster - or, indeed, every finger shut in a door.

But sometimes there's so much bad news around the world that we seem immune to it. Another shooting incident in the USA, another riot in the Middle East, another drought in Africa, another earthquake in Asia... do we care at all? Do we pray - even briefly - for those dying in agony, and those who have been bereaved? Or do we just shrug it off as yet more evidence of the depravity of the human race, or the End Times?

What are you giving up for Lent?

2008-02-12T16:21:00.000+02:00

Although I grew up Anglican, we never made much of Lent. We ate pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, and went to a service on Good Friday, before the great celebrations of Easter. But I just thought Lent was the season when Easter eggs appeared in the shops.

At fourteen, I joined the Christian Union at my school. For the first time, I came across Christians of a wide variety of denominations and cultures. In the spring, several of them started asking a strange question: 'What are you giving up for Lent?'

I prevaricated. 'Not sure,' I would reply, 'What are you doing?' Some people were giving up chocolate, or sugar, or television… I wasn't entirely sure of the point, but evidently I was expected to do something. So I said I would give up sugar in tea. That wouldn't be too hard: I didn't much like tea, and we never drank it at home. The only time I had a cup was after the Christian Union meeting.

So I gave up sugar in tea, and found that it tasted better anyway. Not much, but sufficiently that on the rare occasions I've had to drink tea since those days, I have never added sugar.

The following year, I was rather more confident. The first time someone asked about Lent, I said that I was giving up alcohol, cigarettes and sex. As a non-smoking teetotal virgin, this was meant to be a joke… some people laughed; others looked at me, wondering whether this quiet, naïve girl who rarely went to parties had a secret life they knew nothing about.

By the time I was in the sixth form, I had decided with typical teenage arrogance that I was above such things. When asked about Lent, I would shrug slightly, and say I believed we should worship God at all times of year, and that if it was right to give something up, I didn't need set times of year to do so. I still didn't smoke, drink, or sleep around, and could see no reason to give up chocolate, or my favourite TV programs. The theology was all right, I suppose, but my attitude wasn't.

As a young married adult, attending an evangelical Anglican church, I barely noticed Lent. I didn't even remember Shrove Tuesday most years. Once or twice we joined special study groups at our church, but nobody made a big deal of them. It wasn't until we moved to Cyprus, when I was in my late thirties, that I began thinking more about Lent, and what it means.

The concept of a Lenten fast is related to the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness after his baptism. In Cyprus, we learned, the Greek Orthodox Church take this fairly seriously. Devout Orthodox believers give up all meat products; some also abstain from sweets and desserts. The idea is to prepare themselves for the celebration of Easter – to deny themselves, and to give to the poor.

I began to wonder if I should think more about this season. Traditionally, Lent has been used as a concentrated time for self-denial, prayer and focus on what Jesus went through prior to the Crucifixion. Some evangelicals reject the idea, thinking it too 'high church'. But perhaps we have thrown out the baby with the holy water, so to speak; certainly many evangelicals are rediscovering some of the benefits of visual imagery, including the importance of different seasons within the traditional church calendar.

In the UK, many churches follow a system called 'Love Life, Live Lent'. Participating members receive a booklet, which gives a suggestion for each day of Lent. It may be something to encourage family togetherness such as switching off the TV and playing board games for an evening or something more personal such as apologising to someone. It might be an environmental idea, like buying something organic when you wouldn't normally, or a random act of generosity, such as paying more than the price tag for an item in a charity shop.

Most of these suggestions are not overtly spiritual. They're designed for the general churchgoing public, to encourage a small focus each day on something different, and perhaps to think of God a little more while doing so. They may seem trite to some who take Lent more seriously, or pointless to those who ignore it. But the 'Love Life Live Lent' scheme seems to be popular. Last year there were 130,000 participants. If it does nothing else, it should at least result in a few more random acts of kindness.

I thought about doing this myself last year. However, I found that several of the ideas weren't really appropriate in Cyprus, and somehow I wasn't motivated to do something like that on my own. It's best done as a group, for mutual support and encouragement. So I didn't really do anything.

This year, I wondered again if I should make something of Lent. I'm a private kind of person so I don't want to do anything that will stand out. I don't watch TV anyway, and I'm already trying to limit my computer time. I could give up meat, but then I like vegetarian food so much that it would not be any sacrifice. I could give up sugar, but I don't eat much anyway.

We did eat pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, and will no doubt have Hot Cross Buns on Good Friday. In between, I'm trying to listen to God a little more each day. I decided to use a Lent devotional book that I read through some years ago, with short Scripture passages and relevant, thought-provoking comments for each day. I'm reading through the Psalms, a book I usually tend to dip into rather than reading as a whole. And I'm trying to study a little more Greek and do some focussed writing.

Is it necessary to do anything special during Lent? No. Is it beneficial? I begin to think it may be.

Harry Potter as a Christian allegory

2007-07-30T16:18:00.000+03:00

When I first read 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone', way before the books became so famous - or notorious, depending on your viewpoint - I was impressed at what seemed, to me, a somewhat Christian worldview. In brief, I noticed:

the themes of integrity and loyalty
the importance of unconditional love
the power and value of sacrifice, even laying down one's life
the triumph of good over evil

I was also impressed at the style of writing, the clever mixture of genres - I don't think I'd ever before come across a fantasy school story with a good versus evil theme - the humour, and the clever plotting that made me totally unable to guess what would happen in the climax to the book.

I read the second book shortly afterwards, and was even more impressed. The same themes occurred, and the story was even more cleverly written, keeping me guessing, once again, to the end.

It was around that time that 'The Onion', the satirical (and often very rude) online magazine that writes spoof articles on all kinds of topics, decided to create an over-the-top article about the Harry Potter books. The aim, as far as I can gather, was to make fun of a few American Christian fundamentalists who - apparently - objected to the books because they were about wizards and magic.

Unfortunately, these disapproving folk apparently didn't understand satire, and took the article as truth. It began circulating in an email, which got forwarded and copied and ended up in hundreds and thousands of mailboxes. Christians who had never heard of Harry Potter started forwarding it on, not checking whether it was true or not. Many people, it seems, are all too trusting of emails from (supposely) 'reliable sources', and - worse - are perhaps secretly pleased to have something like this to condemn. Eventually it was widespread enough for Snopes to investigate - and of course they pointed out that (a) nothing published in The Onion is true (b) most of the claims in the article were ludicrous.

It was sad that Christians were so eager to pass on unpleasant gossip of this sort, but turned out to be a great turning point for JK Rowling. Schools and Churches in the USA (and even a few in the UK) decided to ban the book - which instantly made it highly desirable, and increased its popularity enormously. Rowling evidently appreciated this, since in the fifth Harry Potter book she makes reference to a newspaper being banned at Hogwarts School, thus guaranteeing that every student would read it!

Moreoever, Christians who actually did read the book tended to be positive about them. The evangelical magazine Christianity today has written several articles, indexed here, most of which are - on the whole - enthusiastic about the series. They are not, of course, direct teaching aids or overtly Christian. But - like the Narnia series by CS Lewis, or JRR Tolkien's 'Lord of the Rings' epic - they do revolve around Christian principles. In particular, they encourage all the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Two years ago, when the sixth book was published, people started making serious predictions about what would happen in the seventh and final novel. We knew that there would have to be a final confrontation between Harry and the evil Lord Voldemort - but which of them would die? Which of Harry's friends would be slaughtered along the way? Would the world be rid of evil at the last? What exactly was motivating Snape, the unpleasant potions professor? Why did Dumbledore, the wise old headmaster, keep so many secrets?

I assumed that there would be a positive outcome: that Harry would defeat Voldemort, and not die in the process himself, and that most of his friends would survive. I also hoped that there might be a more overt Christian theme - perhaps someone dying in order to give life to others, or even being resurrected, as Aslan was in 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. Some of the predictions were clearly ridiculous - suggesting, for instance, that Harry would decide to join forces with Voldemort, or that Harry would turn out to be evil after all. The one I thought most interesting - and possible - was the one in Christianity Today, 'Waiting for Harry'.

I thought that 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows', which I read this weekend, was superb. It was an enjoyable read, it answered a lot of questions from the previous books, and it was sprinkled with overtly Christian symbols as well as the more broadly Christian principles. The Scriptures on tombstones have been mentioned in many places, as has the significance of Kings Cross station. Just a normal underground station that begins the journey to Hogwarts each year, but evidently chosen because of the meaning of the name. This becomes clear in the 'after-life' scenario towards the end of the book.

What of JK Rowling herself? The ridiculous - possibly libellous - suggestions in previous years that she herself was involved in the occult were obviously untrue. She has been quoted more than once as saying that no, she is not Wiccan. Yes, she tells us, she is a Christian. Perhaps in the USA people would say that even if it weren't true, but it's quite acceptable to be Wiccan in the UK. Far more so than admitting to being a follower of Christ. She has nothing to gain by admitting to being a Christian, and much to lose from the non-Christian majority.

JK Rowling, we learn elsewhere, is a member of the Church of Scotland. She didn't want to talk about her beliefs in advance of the publication of book seven, since - she said - it would give away the ending. Since the ending is a clear demonstration of voluntary sacrifice, life after death, resurrection, and protection transmuted to others, that surely shows beyond all shadow of doubt that the series is intended as a broadly Christian allegory.

What themes do I see that reflect Christian thinking? There are many, but in brief:

Sacrificial love: This one has been mentioned many times. Harry's mother dies to save his life in the first book, and this gives him a protection much stronger than evil. Without giving away too much, this is mirrored at the end of the seventh book in a very powerful way.

Love for enemies: Harry (and, to a lesser extent, Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione) stand out in their caring even for those who hate them. Harry saves Pettigrew's life in the third book, and Draco's life in the seventh, even though either of them would be happy to kill him.

Equality of races: Harry and his friends believe that all life is valuable. That of Muggles (those who are not wizards), of half-breeds such as Hagrid, of house-elves, even of goblins who show them little respect. Harry's respectful treatment of Kreacher, the unpleasant house elf left to him, leads to a remarkable transformation.

Principles rather than details: Harry and friends are not averse to breaking school rules when it's for higher purposes. Sometimes, of course, it's for their own purposes, but they're never deliberately trying to hurt anyone. They understand that rules are not unbendable; they provide a useful structure, but sometimes need to be abandoned. Just like Jesus choosing to heal or pick corn on the Sabbath.

Just in case anyone comes across this and thinks I'm off my rocker, here is just a small selection of the many, many other articles and blogs who also believe that there is a strong Christian theme in JK Rowling's books.

Gospel according to JK Rowling review of Deathly Hallows at Christianity Today
JK Rowling - Inkling? - excellent article I found a couple of years ago, demonstrating how much Christian symbolism there is in the books
Sacrificial Boy Wizard - commentary by John Granger before the publication of the last book
Hogwarts Professor - John Granger's discussion blog; see particularly the post about the Christian ending for the Deathly Hallows book and the subsequent comments
Behold a Phoenix - more thoughtful discussion about the Christian themes of the Harry Potter books
Thank God for Harry! - Why the Harry Potter books will never fit into a nice neat evangelical box, yet are abounding with Christian themes
Sword of Griffindor - serious discussions of the Harry Potter books as literature

And for information about JK Rowling herself:

Fantasia - About CS Lewis, primarily, but with reference to JK Rowling as well.
Fantastic posts - brief biography of JK Rowling
Accio quote - about JK Rowling
Further to the epilogue - JK Rowling in a recent interview, telling us what she left out of the epilogue to the Deathly Hallows book

Being the church in the 21st century

2007-05-23T16:28:00.000+03:00

Just over a year ago I wrote a post entitled, 'What is church anyway?' - in part discussing Jake Colsen's fictional book about the church, and in part my own thoughts.

These thoughts have been ongoing, off and on, and recently resurfaced on reading 'Church that Works' by James Oliver and David Thwaites (reviewed here on my books blog). This book suggests that our entire modern understanding of the church is wrong - it was never what Jesus intended, and is largely ineffective in reaching anybody. Church leaders seem to spend considerable amounts of time trying to make their services and programmes relevant to today's youth, or parents, or retired folk - depending on where they are - but, on the whole, with little success.

Oh, there are mega-churches in the USA and even bigger ones (giga-churches?) in parts of Africa. But do they meet people's needs? Do they draw in the lost, the needy, the dirty and ragged... or do they draw in the respectable folk in their Sunday best? We may be good at welcoming people of all races and cultures, and encouraging those who are seeking God. But what about the folk who come in their scruffy jeans, who haven't had a shower for a few days, and have alcohol on their breath?

Moveover, what are we doing about the vast majority of people in the West who simply wouldn't darken the doors of a church building (except, perhaps, at Christmas and Easter)? We might give out tracts, invite them to Alpha courses, tell them about guest services... and yes, a few will respond. But it's all so impersonal, these days, so structured, so separatist. We feel pleased with ourselves if the Baptists and the Methodists have a joint service once a year... but we still tend to feel our own particular brand of doctrine is really 'better'. Is this really 'church'?

What was meant by 'church' in the New Testament? The word translated as 'church' is the Greek ekklesia (εκκλεσια) which literally means '(those who are) called out'. In Ancient Greece it was a secular term referring to an assembly of officials, but in the Old Testament the equivalent word referred to all the people of Israel who were called by God. There are many web-sites attempting to determine exactly what Jesus meant when he first used the word (in Matthew's Gospel) - see for instance 'Christ's Ekklesia and the Church compared' or ' What is Church?' or 'The Church is not in God's plan' - all worth reading if you want word studies, and some varying interpretations.

What just about everyone agrees on, however, is that the modern word 'church' is an inaccurate translation of the Greek. Neither Jesus nor the Apostles ever intended the kind of churches we have today: sanitised, highly organised and totally respectable. I doubt if they ever imagined that people would drive miles to get together with other people who happen to believe the same minor doctrinal isues as they do, but would refuse to be friendly with their Anglican/Presbyterian/charismatic next-door neighbour.

I don't think we can necessarily determine exactly what Jesus and Paul meant by the word ' ekklesia'. But we can certainly look at the kinds of groups Paul was writing to. He mostly addressed the 'ekklesia' in a town. Or perhaps the 'ekklesias' in a province. But he was pretty annoyed with the folk who tried to be divisive - see I Corinthians 1:10-13. If he were writing today, perhaps he would say something like:

" 'One of you says, 'I'm a Lutheran; another, 'I'm a Calvinist; another, 'I'm a charismatic'; still another, 'I follow Christ'.... "

Christ is not divided, Paul reminds us. The wisdom of the world (with its structures and programmes and campaigns...) is foolishness. All that matters is Christ crucified. We ARE the ekklesia - the 'church' if you want to use that word. I belong to the ekklesia - the body of believers - in the town I live in. I am a member of it because I'm part of Christ's Body worldwide - not because I've signed any doctrinal statement, or affiliated myself with any particular subset of the body.

Moreover, the people Paul was writing to didn't have access to fast transport. When they gathered (perhaps to hear one of Paul's letters, or to pray together) it was in people's houses, generally. Each person would naturally have gone to whichever house happened to be the closest. We read in Acts that the believers shared their possessions, and ate together; this couldn't have happened if people wanted to go half-way across the town to find another body of believers who they felt were more 'sound' than the ones in their neighbourhood.

Of course it's important to meet with other believers. But we're social folk; most of us do that anyway. The book I was reading points out that we're told by Jesus to be salt and light in the world. Can we really be salt and light if we only meet socially with people who share our personal views? Spending our evenings and weekends in church buildings, church programmes and church meetings is surely a good example of hiding our light under a bushel. Instead we're supposed to be where people can see us - and that, for most of us, means in the workplace, or the home, or the school, or wherever we happen to be.

Jesus also told us that any time two or three people gather in his name, he's there with them. He didn't specify a time, or a place, or even a reason for meeting. Just that he's there, alongside any group of his people who get together, for whatever reason.

What about those Sunday morning services that so many people see as central to the 'church'? Many people enjoy them, or find them helpful; they worship God freely and learn more of him through the teaching. That's fine. But it shouldn't be expected of us to meet regularly every Sunday in the same place. It should just be one (optional) part of our life as believers. And we absolutely shouldn't believe that 'our' particular favourite style of Sunday service is in some way superior to someone else's.

We're all fallible people doing what we believe to be right - most of the time, anyway. We have different tastes in music, different attitudes to informality, different ways of learning. Not everyone is an auditory learner. Those that do learn primarily through hearing may well find a forty-minute sermon to be powerful and positive. But probably at least two-thirds of the congregation (who are not auditory learners) will have switched off after the first ten minutes. At most. Yes, the visual learners can be helped by powerpoint presentations or visual aids, but what of the kinaesthetic learners? How are they helped? Or are they made to feel inferior because they would rather be doing something active than sitting still listening to a talk?

If we ARE the ekklesia, the word translated as 'church' over 100 times in the New Testament, the concept of 'going to church' makes no sense at all. The ekklesia has a gathering any time two or three believers in Jesus get together, whether they're praying, studying the Bible, drinking coffee or playing Scrabble. The ekklesia gathers when Christian co-workers (of whatever denominational background) stand up together for Godly principles in the workplace: honesty, integrity, gentleness, love. The ekklesia gathers when two Christian families have a day out together and share a picnic.

How did Jesus say people would know we are his disciples? By the love we have for one another. Not by our moral behaviour, not by the size of our church building, not by the programmes we have to 'reach out' into the community.

Sadly, what people outside Christ's body often observe is Christians who can't get along with each other, Sunday services that seem irrelevant and boring, and very little in the church that has any relevance to their daily lives. We've somehow separated the sacred from the secular in a way that mirrors Greek thinking, but was completely alien to the Jews (including Jesus and Paul) who lived a much more holistic lifestyle.

At the end of his letter to the Thessalonians, Paul instructs us to be joyful ALWAYS, pray CONTINUALLY, give thanks in ALL circumstances. Not just at our Sunday services and week-day housegroups and prayer meetings. We need to see God in our places of work and leisure, to show our colleagues and neighbours that he's relevant all the time - they don't need to adopt a completely different lifestyle to follow him. (Of course, Jesus may well convict them of things that need to be changed after they've met him... but that part is really none of our business, unless we're consulted about it).

A year ago, when I read Jake Colsen's book, our family were finding 'the church' a bit stressful. My husband had stopped going to the congregation we had been a regular part of for some years, for various reasons, and was going - about once a month - to the local charismatic congregation. I didn't feel comfortable there at all, however, and felt I wanted to stay in touch with the people at the congregation we had been part of, also for various reasons. Our 18-year-old son had moved to the local Anglican congregation a year or so before that, believing it right, but not entirely sure why. He wasn't entirely happy either, with a succession of interim ministers during an inter-regnum and a lot of discontent generally.

Now, a year later, we have settled into more of a routine. About two or three Sundays per month, I go at 9am to the congregation we all used to be part of (although we never took out formal membership, feeling unhappy about the concept). I've given up most of my commitments there, though I still occasionally help out in the under-six Sunday School. Our son goes at 9.30 to the Anglican congregation, where he is now the organist/pianist, and on several committees; he is much appreciated by the mostly elderly people who also attend regularly. Then my husband attends the charismatic congregation (where his work colleagues and sailing friends also go) at 10am - a much better time from his perspective as he is NOT an early-bird.

We're all part of the ekklesia in our town. We take part in inter-church activities, and we host a house-group (mostly from the congregation I usually worship with) on a Friday evening, which has a meal together, prays about personal concerns, and then does a low-key interactive style Bible study. It's unusual, but it's what seems to be right at the moment. Some Sundays my husband sleeps instead of going anywhere, and some Sundays I go along to the Anglican congregation instead. Occasionally I visit the charismatic congregation with my husband. The most important thing is to love one another as believers in the town, and to be witnesses - in whatever way we can - in the world.

The Light of the World

2007-03-08T14:50:00.000+02:00

Jesus said, 'I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.' (John 8:12)

I must have read or heard those words hundreds of times. But yesterday they seemed to leap out at me, making me pause awhile and think what Jesus meant by that oft-quoted metaphor.

Light.

We take it for granted these days, with mains electricity in all the developed world, and much of the developing world too. In New Testament times, however, people were limited to candles or oil lamps. A lot of them were needed to light a big room, and they required a fair amount of effort to keep going. Their main form of light was, of course, the sun. Most of the work was done in the daytime outside, or in rooms with plenty of windows.

Light banishes the darkness.

In Patricia M St John's book, 'Treasures of the Snow', which I first read as a young child, there's an image which has always stuck with me: the idea that when we open shutters to let in the light, the darkness simply disappears. We don't have to rush around trying to get rid of it first, or worry about it at all once the light floods the room. So it is with our sin. Some people seem to think they have to get rid of all their wrong attitudes and behaviours before they're good enough to come to Jesus. Or even to enter a church. But it doesn't work that way. We come to Jesus because we're sinners, full of darkness. In his light, the darkness vanishes. It's forgiven. Forgotten. Gone.

That's not to say it doesn't sometimes return; of course it does. When we turn away from Jesus, our old habits recur. Life isn't always easy, and we're flawed humans. We will never be fully in the light as long as we're living on this earth. But any time, any place, we can turn to Jesus and have our sin - our darkness - wiped away in his light. He paid the penalty we deserve. He is always the light, and in him we too can have a the light of life.

Light uncovers what is hidden.

There is much that we hide, in addition to our sin. Perhaps we have some sordid family secret that we don't want anyone to know about. An abusive parent. A rebellious child. A sibling in prison. Perhaps we were badly hurt in the past, and try to hide it. There are many things which are not our fault - not our sin - yet which almost choke us as we pretend all is well, make cheerful small talk, smile and clap as we sing in church.

But we can bring everything to Jesus, including these things which make us embarrassed or angry. He can help us to forgive, and he can show us that in everything he is there for us. One day perhaps we'll understand why something happened - possibly even see some good come out of it - but equally, we may never know. What matters is that Jesus is there for us, loving us, taking us in his arms and letting us know that he understands.

Light reveals the path ahead.

It's easy to stumble or go the wrong direction in the dark. But by daylight we can see the road, and where it leads. Those who live without Jesus may have many plans for their future, but they don't really know where they're going. With Jesus, we may not know what tomorrow brings - we may only be able to take one step at a time - but in his light we know the path is there, and that he holds his hand out to guide us.

Immortal, invisible...

2007-02-20T16:47:00.000+02:00

I've been re-reading JB Phillips' classic, 'Your God is too Small'. Such a small book, so simply written, and yet so full of wisdom.

At first glance, what he says may be obvious: we mustn't create God in our own image, or try to fit him into a box. We mustn't limit him to our childish preconceptions, we need to view him - and the Bible - through adult eyes. Yes, Jesus said we need to become like little children, but that doesn't mean we should be childish. Talking about God as our Father doesn't mean we ONLY see him as a father. Our earthly fathers may have been good, or they may have been terrible. Or even non-present. God is the ideal Father - all the best that is fatherhood - but he's so much more as well.

Philips divides the book into sections, starting with twelve common misconceptions about God, plus a few other lesser ones. I suspect that which one(s) we tend to adopt depend on our personality type as well as our upbringing. For instance, the first wrong idea mentioned is that of 'resident policeman'. The voice of conscience. Yes, God can and does speak through our consciences, but they need to be refined and flooded regularly with Scripture. Otherwise we can get quite the wrong idea of what morality is. Parents, propaganda, even sermons can convince the over-sensitive that all kinds of things are wrong which Scripture doesn't forbid at all. A child brought up by vegetarians may feel his conscience telling him that it's wrong to eat meat, whereas it's generally a personal preference. We probably all know of Christians who are convinced it's morally wrong to drink any kind of alcohol (ignoring the fact that Jesus and his disciples drank wine) or even to use musical instruments in worship (despite Psalm 150).

Then there's the reverse problem of those who are less sensitive, and convince themselves that harmful activities are perfectly all right - that the Bible is a bit outdated, that nobody these days expects lifelong monogamy or total honesty in declaring income for tax purposes. They don't feel any pricking of their consciences, so they assume their behaviour is just fine.

Our consciences are important, but they're not always the voice of God.

Another example is that of the 'heavenly bosom'. One of the great old hymns by Charles Wesley, if taken at face value, seems to imply that we should simply hide in God's arms when circumstances are difficult. Like a small child running to his mother, after being scared by a big dog. Yes, of course we can go to Jesus any time, and there is a contentment deep within that comes from knowing him. But we certainly shouldn't expect him to shield us from all that life throws at us. Christians through the ages have faced terrible situations, often painful death, because they have refused to run away and hide. We were promised life in all its fullness, but not that it would be free of problems or pain.

We will never fully understand or know God, since he is infinite. But we need to acknowledge this rather than trying to pin him down or see him in rational or human terms. He can speak through our consciences, but he doesn't always. He is our Father, but he's so much more. We can go to him any time, but sometimes he sends us out to overcome increasingly difficult challenges. He has existed for eternity, but he is not outdated...

'Your God is too Small' is not complex theology, but it's very thought-provoking.

Listening and loving

2007-01-16T15:57:00.000+02:00

As a child, I was afraid of dogs. I told people I hated them. I didn't like looking at their pictures. I moved as far away as possible from anyone walking a dog. I didn't want to go into a house where I knew there was a dog living.

Why?

Apparently, when I was a toddler, a large and probably over-friendly dog jumped at me and terrified me. It took years for me to learn to like dogs again.

Others have more painful experiences: perhaps they were knocked over, or bitten by a dog. Perhaps they knew someone who was ravaged by a dog. Perhaps they had early experience of highly-trained guard dogs who would attack strangers. Some of them may never really come to accept dogs as (mostly) friendly, tame pets.

Fear or distrust of dogs is so common that when we hear someone insisting they hate dogs, we assume they've had a bad experience with them in the past. We're sympathetic, on the whole. We might make gentle enquiries about why they feel that way. We might share our own similar experiences. We might show them photos of soft and cuddly dogs that could hardly fail to make them smile. Or we might just leave the topic alone.

What we don't do is to start heavy arguments about why dogs are wonderful, or tell them they should come with us to the local stray dogs' home. We don't give them heavy books about why a dog is man's best friend, or try to convince them of the pointlessness of having gerbils or hamsters as pets.

So.... why do so many Christians take a heavy line with people who attack the church, or their personal beliefs? Chances are that someone who is suspicious of Christianity has been injured in some way in the past by Christians. Perhaps they had a rigid and dogmatic upbringing, heavily disciplined for any infringement of Christian values. Perhaps they were spurned at a church they visited for dressing in scruffy jeans. Perhaps they've come across hypocritical Christians who say one thing and do another.

John Piper says:

Let us learn to discern whether the words spoken against us or against God or against the truth are merely for the wind--spoken not from the soul, but from the sore. If they are for the wind, let us wait in silence and not reprove. Restoring the soul, not reproving the sore, is the aim of our love.
(from "A Godward Life")

How right he is. When other people attack us, or our faith, or the church, or even God, it does no good at all to argue. Yes, we need to be sure what we believe and be prepared to explain it. But we need to do so from the perspective of the person we're talking to. Jesus told us that the entire law is summed up in the commands to love God, and to love our neighbours as ourselves. Loving our neighbour doesn't just involve doing practical things for them. It can mean listening to them at a deep level, hearing where they're coming from, understanding why they've formed the views they have. Maybe at some point we can introduce them to Jesus, but we're unlikely to to have any effect until we've shown them honest friendship and shown that we take them seriously.

Literal vs Metaphorical

2007-01-01T12:42:00.000+02:00

I do not take every word of the Bible literally.

Before anyone brands me a heretic, let me explain. There's a lot of confusion about the word 'literally' these days. I've read and heard people say things such as:

My heart was literally in my mouth!

This book was so exciting, the pages literally turned themselves!

I can only assume that some people don't know what literally means. Because in fact what they mean is 'metaphorically'. Someone's heart remains literally where it's always been. Book pages do not literally turn themselves.

Why use the word 'literally' at all, though?

Recently in studying and discussing differences of personality type and temperament, one of the issues that cropped up was that of abstract vs concrete language. About 75% of the US population (and perhaps other populations too) tend to use mostly concrete language. The rest - and I'm among them - who prefer the abstract tend to use metaphors as a matter of course.

Now some metaphors have made it into everyday speech and are widely used by all. I used the phrase 'cropped up' and indeed 'concrete language' - hoping that anyone reading this will understand the meaning I'm giving to the words. And because a high percentage of fiction writers use metaphorical language, such phrases have crept into common usage too. If I say my heart was in my mouth, most English-speaker would know that I meant I was very tense and frightened.

But perhaps those who prefer the concrete style are actually uncomfortable with metaphor. So when they use such phrases, they have to add an extra word - and, bizarrely, choose 'literally' because they like the literal use of language and perhaps it truly felt as if their heart really was in their mouth.

Back to the Bible.

When people say they take every word literally, they usually mean they believe what's written in the Gospels about Jesus - including the miracles - and they believe in Creation as outlined in Genesis, and they take seriously things they perceive as commands to the church.

Well, so do I. But on the other hand, there are plenty of metaphors too: Jesus used them frequently. When he said he was the light of the world, or a gate to a sheepfold, or the bread of life, we know he meant them metaphorically. Sometimes he explained what he meant, but not always. So how do we know? Because of our own cultural experience, and what we've been taught.

However, our understanding may well be limited or even wrong. For many years I thought the gate to the sheepfold was something wooden with hinges. Then an elderly minister in a school assembly I was visiting told the relevant story to the children. He got some children up front to be a sort of hedge with a gap in it, and others to be the sheep. Then he himself got down on the floor, and lay across the gap. That, he told us, was what the 'gate' was like in ancient Israel. The shepherd really did - literally! - form the gate which both kept the sheep in, and kept any wolves or thieves out.

So some of the Bible may be more literal than we realise. Other parts may be less so. People come up with all kinds of explanations for some of the more confusing statements, and sometimes it's impossible to tell exactly what was meant, although usually we have a good idea.

We will never fully comprehend everything in the Bible while we're on earth. Jesus said that the Holy Spirit would help us remember his words, and understand them. As we read the Bible, and listen for the voice of God, we may well begin to understand better. It's also important to learn about the culture of the times, to read books written about the Bible, and to discuss our ideas and questions with our Christian brothers and sisters. But let's not be rigid. Too many battles and divisions within the Church have arisen because of verses taken out of context, or different interpretations. Jesus said that the first commandment was to love God, and the second was to love our neighbour. If we differ from our neighbour (or indeed our brother at the church on the other side of town) in some doctrinal issue, let's go with the principle of love and let the Holy Spirit work in us both.

Education: what is it?

2006-09-06T16:08:00.000+03:00

"Don't let schooling interfere with
your education."
~ Mark Twain ~

This quotation from Twain is often used by home educators, to point out the obvious (but frequently ignored) truism that education and schooling are not the same. Mass schooling really only began in the late 19th century. Before that, the majority of people learned all they needed from their extended family, friends, acquaintances, and life experiences. 'Schooling' was sporadic for most, and consisted of learning particular skills such as basic reading and writing, arithmetic, and perhaps the recital of historical facts.

When we started home education - just for a year, so we thought, when we moved to Cyprus - I had not really understood the difference. I thought, vaguely, that 'education' consisted of learning, from experts, certain subjects such as history, French, biology, etc, up to what we call GCSE level, and then specialising in a few subjects for a couple more years. 'Further education', I thought, consisted of taking just one or two of those subjects and studying them in much greater depth, to degree level.

Since my own specialist sixth-form subjects were maths and ancient Greek, and I had forgotten almost everything I learned in school by the time we started home education, I was sure I could not 'teach' anything beyond primary school level. My sons were 11 and 9 when we started, and I was quite convinced they would have to go to secondary school to get 'an education'. Even at 11, my older son knew more about science than I did. So I bought books, got copies of their UK primary school's monthly and weekly curriculum plans, and tried to organise our days as similarly as possible to those in their school.

Right?

Nope. That is NOT education. I was trying to 'school' the boys, based on our prior experience. Thankfully the Internet led me to forums and lists which discussed home education in all its possible forms, and we quickly realised that at home there was no reason at all to follow the pattern of schools. The boys realised this almost immediately; it was me who needed to re-learn what 'education' means. UK law (which we were following) requires children to be educated 'at school or otherwise'. Not 'schooled' but educated. If it's not at school, then it's 'otherwise'. The law goes on to say that it must be according to age, ability and aptitude. Something that schools try hard to follow, but with 30 children and one teacher per class, it's impossible for every child to be treated fully individually.

Undoubtedly some children and teenagers do enjoy school, and gain a great deal from it, including some education. But there are many different personality types, and many different styles of learning. Neither of my two has the 'Guardian' temperament which fits best into a structured school day. So, although I really did NOT want to move to Cyprus, I soon became very thankful that God brought us here, and essentially pushed us into home education, since it's an option I would probably not have considered if we had remained in the UK.

Within a year we knew this was the right path for our family. The boys blossomed. I blossomed. I realised (and how obvious it seemed when I did) that since I had forgotten the majority of what I learned in school, it probably wasn't very important. My husband, who was not at all keen on the idea of home education at first, acknowledged that nearly everything of significance which he had learned had been outside school, or - at best - in after-school clubs.

My older son is now nearly 20 and travelling the world on the MV Doulos. When I spoke to him on the phone recently, he said how much he's enjoying the process of learning so many new skills - deckhand work, carpentry, metal-work, teaching drama, water-testing, jazz dancing, and much more. We never did much chemistry at home, but it hasn't held him back. Perhaps the main thing he learned in his years at home was that there's no limit to education. If he wants to learn something new, he can. His only worry is that there's too little time for all the activities he wants to do, and the things he wants to learn in depth.

My younger son, nearly 18, is about to embark on an open theology degree. He's also about to become the main organist at the local Anglican church. He gives guitar lessons to a friend's son. He has helped many people with computer problems, since he has a highly technical mind and quick intuitive grasp of what has gone wrong.

Has their education been balanced, as it would have been in school? No. I admit it freely. They did use an American correspondence course to get diplomas, just in case they ever want to go to university, but the vast majority of their education was informal, self-motivated, and done without any formal teaching or structure. They read, they researched, they asked questions. And they still continue to do so.

So I'm very thankful that for the past eight years we have absolutely not allowed schooling of any kind to interfere with our sons' education!

So... WHY would Brits be healthier than Americans?

2006-05-03T21:04:00.000+03:00

I'm not entirely sure why they did this research, but it's apparently been shown that Americans are less healthy than their British counterparts.

"Americans aged 55 to 64 are up to twice as likely to suffer from diabetes, lung cancer and high blood pressure as English people of the same age"

Or so the report starts.

t wasn't even a study by Brits, this comes from the US itself - from the Journal of the American Medical Association. Nor is it related to something obvious like income levels, because the groups were carefully divided by income, so they compared wealthy Americans with similarly wealthy Brits, and so on. In both countries, the wealthier people were more healthy than the least wealthy, which is probably not surprising. People with more money are more likely to be well educated and aware of the benefits of healthy lifestyles. They can afford good quality food and relaxing holidays, and are less likely to live in cramped houses.

But

"The healthiest Americans had similar disease rates to the least healthy English."

That's pretty scary. And they don't seem to know why. Cigarette smoking habits were very similar between the two countries. Alcohol drinking levels were higher in the UK. Obviously for the lower income people in the USA, there's not much access to health care, but the wealthiest groups in American probably have good insurance, or can pay for medical treatment. And the illnesses they're talking about aren't really related to health care anyway. They're not talking about how many people die from these diseases, but how many develop them in the first place.

The report also takes into account the obesity levels in the USA which are generally higher than in the UK - but that, apparently, doesn't help explain the difference either.

What surprises me is that they don't mention nutrition. When we lived in the USA for a couple of years in the early 1990s, we were appalled at how few people seemed to cook 'proper' food. Of course, it's going that way in the UK too, with fast foods becoming cheaper, and packaged mixes in the supermarkets. But when I was growing up in the UK, in the 1960s and 1970s, all cooking was done 'from scratch' as they call it in the USA - ie using ingredients. That's what I still consider ordinary cooking. But our friends in the USA seemed to use cake mixes and pudding mixes and other 'instant' foods which were packed with preservatives and colourants and other such junk. They told me such things had been around for a long time, so perhaps people of 55-64 in the USA grew up with them in their diet.

By contrast, people of that age in the UK were children during or just after World War II when there was still food rationing. No white flour, very little sugar, and of course absolutely no imported or instant rubbish. There wasn't much meat, and people often filled up with bread and dripping, but there were vegetables and some fruit, locally grown, and many people kept eggs. It's often been said by health-food faddists that it's better to be a bit hungry than too eat too much, and that a simple diet is the healthiest. Perhaps we're finally seeing that this is the case...

What is 'church' anyway?

2006-04-23T19:41:00.000+03:00

I'm enthusing everywhere about Jake Colsen's book (available from his site as an e-book, free to download) ' So you don't want to go to church anymore?'

It's not preachy, and it doesn't tell us what to do. Instead it uses a fictional setting to guide someone through what church really is. Or rather, what it could be, what it was intended to be, and what it means. We all know the Church is not a building, or even an individual congregation, but the Body of Christ worldwide. We know that the local church really consists of all believers in a neighbourhood. And we know that the most important part of the church is each individual's relationship with Jesus.

Of course we know that, deep down.

So why are so many congregations all over the world struggling with building programmes, hearing long and boring sermons that inspire few if any, singing trite songs, or - at the other extreme - following ancient rituals that most of them don't understand? Why do so many Christians spend time worrying about minor ethical issues (drinking, smoking, dancing, eating, what to wear, what to see, what to read.... ) and judging those who think differently? Why are there so many doctrinal differences and arguments, leading to splitting congregations and gossip and strife?

What did Jesus say?

Love God with all your heart, soul and mind. That's the greatest commandment.

Love your neighbour. All the law is summed up in that phrase.

Basically, that's it. Christianity isn't an ethical system. It shouldn't be boring or trite. Nor should it be incomprehensible or mindless. It's an exciting way of life, following a radical Saviour. We have no need for three-point sermons or five-purpose churches or seven laws for success. Oh, there may be some value in reading such books, but they all miss the point. God loves us more than we can possibly imagine, and Jesus wants us to live for and with him in every way, every moment of every day.

Nothing else matters. When we are following Godly principles, by the leading of the Holy Spirit, then the ethics will fall into place.

Does that make it wrong to belong to a local congregation? Of course not. So long as it doesn't come between us and God. So long as we don't spend so much time and energy keeping the programmes and buildings going that we lose sight of what really matters. So long as we remember that we're only a small part of the worldwide Body of Christ, and that God is a great deal bigger than any one denomination or doctrinal standpoint.

Some people find a church service a good place to worship God corporately, and that's great. Whether it's in ancient chanting, a capella psalms, charismatic choruses or organ-led hymns, God loves our praise, and many people draw closer to him through such times. Worship is about giving God his worth, about offering ourselves to him in our entirety, in adoring him for who and what he is.

But at the same time, worship needs to be an attitude of life. A church service isn't for getting a spiritual high to keep us going during the week. If we can't praise God on our own, and give him his worth in every aspect of our lives, then even the most thrilling and moving church service becomes a distraction, not a bonus.

Some find sermons inspiring, and learn more of the Bible through teaching in church services. But not everyone is created to be an auditory learner, and unless a congregation is small and not at all diverse, it's impossible for any one sermon to teach - or minister in any way - to everyone. Or even the majority. Short testimonies may be more encouraging, if they're genuine. But it's all too easy for the same people to share, week by week, without specifics, and without empathy towards those who don't feel so blessed.

Besides, if a sermon is the only teaching and inspiration someone is receiving, then there's something wrong. There are a wealth of Christian books available, or (for those who don't read much) tapes, CDs and DVDs of teaching. Not to mention the Internet. We live in a multi-media world. God is proclaimed and the Bible explained in a multitude of ways. If we think we can gain all we need from a weekly sermon, then that too has become a distraction - an excuse. If the things of God are important, we need to consider them daily, moment by moment.

Church can also be a good place for networking: for meeting new people, for chatting with friends. It's important to get together with other believers, to talk of the things of God. For many, the coffee-and-biscuits after the church service is more important than the service itself. For someone new to the area, a church is an obvious place to find other believers.

But once again, if the coffee time after a service is our only contact with other believers, if we don't meet any of them through the week, then it's another thing that becomes a distraction. Or a sop to our guilty feelings that we 'ought' to be spending more time with other Christians.

What of outreach programmes? Children's ministry? Youth groups? Soup kitchens? Mother-and-toddler groups? Day Centres? House groups?

All can be valuable, of course. They are tools, which may be used or may be misused. If the leaders are enthusiastic, sure that they are doing what God wants them to do, and if those attending are doing so because they want to be there, then that's great. But if the leaders are over-stretched, under-funded, constantly stressed and never appreciated, then something is going awry. If people are turning up out of a sense of obligation, and thankful when they've finished, then there's little point their being there at all.

Perhaps more significantly, it's quite possible to be involved in some of these ministries without attending the Sunday morning services.

Where does that leave us?

If someone is happy in his or her local congregation, with a positive reason for being there, and with their relationship to Jesus taking first place, then there's no reason to leave unless God clearly tells them to do so. Local churches can be wonderful, with a sense of real community. If people really love each other, then they'll choose to see each other mid-week and help each other out when necessary. They'll pray for each other, and care for each other, and there won't be any hint of judgementalism or gossip, because Jesus is put first. Not politics, or ethics, or preconceived ideas of what Christians are like, but the Son of God who loved us and died for our sins.

But if - as is happening with so many people in the 21st century - the local church is making you feel jaded, or depressed, or if you find it boring or incomprehensible, or even if it's the high focal point of your week (thus potentially an idol) maybe God is calling you out of it, at least for a while. Not to find another congregation immediately, or to start a new one, but to reconsider your relationship with him. To find how to worship without church services. To find sources of teaching that aren't sermons. To meet with other believers without structure or obligation.

If this all sounds wacky, even heretical, I encourage you to read Jake Colsen's book and consider the implications. You might not agree - but then he doesn't tell us what to do, or how to live. His fictional guide just asks some questions, and points out places where many Christians have lost sight of what really matters.

Judging the Genuine, or Following the False?

2006-04-21T14:58:00.000+03:00

Where do we draw the line? Scripture tells us there will be people who will lead us astray in the Last Times. It doesn't tell us how many, or what date, or what they will say. We're supposed to be on guard, to test all things, and yet we're not supposed to judge.

Unfortunately, there seem to be two extremes. There are those who decry just about every well-known Christian in the last 100 years as heretical in some way. Just put 'heretic' and the name of any famous writer or speaker into Google, and you're bound to find someone who is convinced they're unsound.

On the other hand, there are those who accept anyone who talks or writes about God as valid, even anointed. I know of people who watch the 'God channel' on satellite TV, all day every day. They're convinced it protects them and their families from being perverted by the world. They trust any sermon they hear - in church or on TV. Sometimes they even think it's immoral to question other Christians, or to criticise faulty interpretations of the Bible.

Too many people in today's culture are not taught to think critically for themselves. Some schools teach to exams, insisting students toe the party line (whatever that might be) and ask no serious questions. Unfortunately, that includes some Christian schools as well as ordinary state-run schools. Some cultures do not allow children to question parents or teachers at all. Some Christians grow up in strict denominational churches, and automatically reject anything that doesn't fit in with their narrow view of the world. At the other extreme, some Christians accept anyone unconditionally as a brother or sister, if they say they believe in God.

So where DO we draw the line?

As far as I'm concerned, relationships are of primary importance. First my relationship to God, then my relationship to other people. So in general I err on the side of accepting people rather than rejecting them. We're all created in God's image, after all. That implies that there's something of God in everyone, whether or not they acknowledge it. And if they do acknowledge it, no matter how faulty their theology may seem, I don't see that I have any right to pass negative judgement on them. God works in many and often mysterious ways, and is a great deal bigger than I can possibly imagine.

I was reading Brennan Manning's excellent book 'Abba's Child' recently. Very moving and inspiring. One paragraph in particular struck me deep within: he and his wife met a young girl, who turned out to be a Moonie (ie from the cultic pseudo-Christian movement following the teachings of Rev Moon). Brennan Manning spoke to the girl politely, saying he admired her commitment and his wife gave the girl a hug. The girl then said that they were the first Christians to give her any sort of respect at all. All others she had met either yelled at her, or denounced her as demonised. One person even hit her with a Bible.

I would probably have said little, neither hugged nor hit her. But if I aspire to be like Jesus, then I need to be more prepared to reach out to anyone and everyone, to accept them for who they are, to meet them in the place where they are. It's sometimes worthwhile to expand the parable of the sheep and the goats to take account of up-to-date scenarios.

I was on the streets passing out heretical tracts, and you ignored me, or shouted at me.
I was a refugee, and you refused to grant me asylum.
I was sick, and didn't have private insurance, so you let me go bankrupt or die.

I could go on, but I don't want to point fingers. As soon as I do, even in a theoretical way, I'm myself guilty of being judgemental and non-accepting. God loves me - and you - and everyone else - for who we are. For the people he created us to be. With all our faults and hangups and the mistakes we've made. The entire law of God is summed up in the phrase: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.' And the word 'neighbour', of course, is explained by example in the parable of the Good Samaritan. An outcast treated a beaten-up wreck with compassion. It's sadly the case that in the 21st century our santised churches are often the last place that a beaten-up wreck would go to find help.

So, with other people I believe in showing love, acceptance, forgiveness. Not judgement. Not criticism. Not condemnation of their lifestyles, no matter how immoral they might seem to be. Jesus ate with sinners and prostitutes and cheating tax-collectors; how can I refuse to follow his steps?

But what about doctrine and teaching?

Here, my tendency is to question and analyse just about every theory or sermon I hear. I read a lot of Christian books and I don't expect to agree with everything in most of them. If the overall concept is good, and there are useful reminders in them, or perhaps something explained in a new way, or with an unusual perspective, then I'll value the book. If a sermon has a message of encouragement, some good examples, some clear explanations of Scripture, then great. I'm no auditory listener, and I simply can't keep my mind on a sermon for more than about 20 minutes, but others value this method of learning, and some sermons bear some positive fruit in the lives of those who listen.

What worries me is when people accept blindly all they are told or hear. When they seem to see the Bible as more important than the work of the Holy Spirit. When they take verses out of context, or quote a passage of Scripture without asking the basic questions: Who wrote this? To whom did they write it? Why were they writing it?

It worries me even more when people want to become legalist about the Bible and Christian life in general. A while ago my husband was asked, by a group of young Egyptian men, 'Is it right to go to the cinema?' He said that it wasn't a question of right or wrong. Most Christians would believe it wrong to watch certain movies - pornographic ones, or those with extreme gratuitous violence, for instance. And there might be certain other circumstances when it was wrong to go to a cinema: if it meant using money that could better be used elsewhere, or if somebody really needed to spend time with them, for instance. It might also be wrong to go every day because it could become a habit. But in the end, it's up to personal conviction and the Holy Spirit's prompting within.

Unfortunately, this didn't satisfy these men. They were brought up in a rigid educational system that taught them to obey their teachers, to learn by rote, and to live their lives in legalistic ways. They had never learned to think for themselves, to question authority or to do their own research and internal questioning. They wanted absolutes: yes or no. They were prepared to ask several Christians they respected and see what the majority response was, but they didn't want the responsibility of making their own decisions, or the vagueness of 'grey areas'.

It's to people like this that many modern books or speakers appeal: the kind that tell us Five Purposes or Seven Laws or Nine Rules... all we have to do is follow the author or speaker's guidelines and we'll be guaranteed success and happiness, and probably a crown in heaven. And unfortunately it's people brought up within rigid legalism who find it hardest to analyse these books or talks objectively. Do they give some good principles? Yes, sometimes they do. Are there only Five Purposes (or Seven Laws or Nine Rules...)? Of course not. Jesus proclaimed freedom from the law, not a new bunch of regulations.

So how do we keep following God's ways, not rejecting or judging those around us, but without being distracted from our path by all the diversions around? We can plan for the future, but can't expect to follow our plans rigidly since we can only live one day at a time. We can learn from the past, but there's no need to dwell in it since we can't possibly change it or follow what 'might have been'. We can be aware of cultural trends and political movements, but they're only temporal and should never guide us.

The only answer I can see is to keep our eyes constantly on Jesus. To reach out our hands and take his, acknowledging that we'll often fail but that he loves us unconditionally and will never leave us.

Can it ever be right to be 'purpose-driven'?

2006-03-27T20:55:00.000+03:00

Our church is running the American mega-church course 'The Purpose Driven Life'. This is after a year in which the church has become progressively more structured: the leadership has changed, the constitution has changed, and for every role or job in the church formal job descriptions and aims/objectives have been defined. We have not been comfortable with this, and the Purpose-Driven Life feels like the last straw. Even putting aside the American hype, something feels very wrong about it.

As a disclaimer, I should say that I realise many people have found the book to be a blessing. If it were simply treated as another Christian book, with some good points and some not-so-good, then fine. Of course God can use anything for good. Some people may have felt stuck in a rut, and needed to hear about God having purposes for them. In some churches, new house groups have sprung up as a result of this course, and that's great.

I also know that there are churches which have studied this book critically. They've read it in their house groups, looked at the pros and cons, checked some of the dubious Scripture references, and learned how to distinguish valid and invalid use of the Bible. They've read articles for and against Rick Warren's teachings, and they've discussed what he says with open minds.

But our church has adopted the full 40-day campaign structure. That means that all existing house groups are supposed to close, and new 'cell groups' formed. The leaders of these have to be trained in Rick Warren's methods, and each meeting is supposed to start with a video of Rick Warren, saying the same as was said in the sermon on Sunday - which was the same as is said in his book. There are memory verses which everyone's supposed to learn each week. And right at the beginning of each cell, members were supposed to sign a 'covenent' committing themselves to the group and to each othe for the 40 days of the course.

More than that, all ministry groups are supposed to close, or use the course in some way. Even the mother-and-toddler groups, the outreach groups, the youth groups. Since many of our groups are inter-church, or meeting important needs in the neighbourhood, they haven't all closed, but some have. Some may never regain their momentum. And many of those who were involved in service within the Body (something Rick Warren insists is one of God's purposes) find themselves without anywhere to be of service during the campaign.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it's intended to brainwash, but it has much in common with brainwashing techniques. Such as removal of current support, and frequent repetition of certain fixed phrases. Oh, and the Sunday services start with half an hour of mostly rather trite songs, but there's no prayer time - just a long sermon which is supposed to be Rick Warren verbatim, read by the current preacher. Our preachers have slightly cut them down (they're supposed to be an hour long! Who can listen to someone talking for that length of time?!) but they're still tedious. Or so I gather - I've managed to volunteer in children's work or stay away. The book was more than enough for me. It taught me nothing new, and was irritating with all the misquotations, and many different paraphrases of Scripture.

Here I add another disclaimer. I'm not someone who believes the only inspired translation of Scripture is the Authorised Version (or King James Version, as they call it in the USA). I believe that as language changes, and further original scrolls are found, and Greek and Hebrew scholarship improves, more accurate translations have been made. How amazing it is that so much was accurate, even with the poor techniques and lack of documents available in the Middle Ages - God certainly ensured that his Word was always available, and that what was important has remained. Had Rick Warren chosen to use only the New International Version, or the New King James, or another accurate modern translation, I would have had no problem. But he doesn't use any single translation. He uses a mixture, including some paraphrases (such as the Living Bible, or the Message, neither of which is supposed to be taken as authoritative) and quotes them as freely as he quotes more accurate translations. He often seems to choose a particular version to 'prove' what he is trying to say; a cursory glance at another version often suggests that he's missed the point entirely.

Is Rick Warran a false prophet, one of those predicted in the Gospels, who would - if possible - 'deceive even the elect'? Many seem to believe that. Or is the course simply a mistake? I'm usually happy to give anyone the benefit of the doubt; perhaps Rick Warren's church was struggling with nominalism, or (as a friend suggested) extreme consumerism. Perhaps they did need to stop, and focus on God's purposes for them. Perhaps the five purposes that are outlined in the book were absolutely appropriate for Saddleback church, and the members needed to hear this message. Maybe the same is true for some other churches too - there are certainly reports of great things happening in churches who have followed this course, although I don't know how closely they followed it. Of course God can do great things anyway. Merely because something good results from something does not mean that the something was in itself good.

Is there a danger of the 'purpose-driven life' becoming cultic? Absolutely. There are various lists showing standard 'marks of cults' - one of them is shown at this site. Of them, the PDL campaign displays:

Extrabiblical authority - yes. It doesn't deny anything in the Bible, but Rick Warren's book is taken as the authority during this course. Here's a report of people actively discouraged from taking Bibles to purpose-driven cell groups, because a Bible might confuse the issue...

Legalism - absolutely. Everything we do is supposed to fit in with one of Rick Warren's purposes (which, he claims, are God's purposes).

Guru-type leader - that's obvious. Rick Warren is on all the videos, his sermons must be preached, his book must be read, his course - and other courses - must be followed. Pastors can even download more of his sermons from the Saddleback web-site, if they're so uninspired that they can't preach their own.

Claims of special discoveries - yes, that's what the whole book seems to be about. At best, it's stating the obvious. But it markets itself as a new revelation, something that - it promises - will change our lives. And there's his whole dubious theory of 'exponential growth'. He even redefines the word 'exponential'.

Out of context Scripture used as proof texts - yes. Frequently. Here's a very useful 'discernment tool' that shows, for each chapter of the book, what Rick Warren says, and what an accurate translation (the NASV in this case) says.

Pseudomystical/occult influence - perhaps not that, exactly. But there are strong influences from the business world, from the dumbed-down gospel of Robert Schuller, and - apparently - from the New Age movement. Here's a page which explains how the whole movement departs from Biblical teaching.

Six out of fourteen seems a bit worrying, if any one of those could imply a cult.

Some more useful articles:

Examining 'purpose driven' or 'purposeful and Spirit-led'

Another clear examination of this movement

One family's clear descriptions of why they left a purpose-driven church

Slice of Laodicea - how Rick Warren teaches his principles to Jews

A bit heavy - but this shows the official stance on those who resist these teachings

About worship and music

2006-03-11T19:39:00.000+02:00

There's an oft-quoted phrase of Rick Warren's: "There's no such thing as Christian music, only Christian words." It's become a catchphrase, and in the context in which he brings this up in the book, I don't disagree. There is no single style of music that can be called 'Christian'. Some like hymns, some like psalms, some like 1980s worship music, some like 1990s Vineyard music, some like Taizé music... all can be used to worship God. To suggest that we can only worship God by singing Psalms, or - at the other extreme - that we should reject all music written before the 21st century as out-of-date - is unbalanced. God loves variety, and has created people with huge diversity of musical tastes and talents. So by all means, let's worship him in many ways: with all styles of music, and in other ways. Warren's point about worship being a lifestyle is also valid, of course.

But... 'Only Christian words'. What does he mean by that? The implication is that if a song contains Christian concepts, then it's a Christian song and can be used for worshipping God. If it doesn't, then it can't.

Is that the case? Many would disagree. Amongst the songs to be found in most current Christian songbooks, there are some which are clearly worshipful, some which state theology rather than expressing any kind of worship, and some which are trite in the extreme. Merely because a song mentions God, and is written by a Christian, does not mean it's going to be worshipful. I think of Adrian Plass's fictional diaries... someone wrote out the most appalling pseudo-Christian doggerel and insisted God had given them the song. Plass's wry comment was that God was probably glad to get rid of it. Is God worshipped by 'vain repetition' of religious phrases? Or, indeed, by the heavy and rather severe theology of some of the old hymns?

I don't say that he can't be. God enjoys our worship however it's expressed, and I'm sure that even the tritest (or heaviest) of songs can be song with a reverential and worshipful heart. But they can also be sung by people who think they're dreadful, or boring. When I was a teenager, visiting a rather dull church, I noticed the word 'assuage' in a hymn we were singing, and spotted that it's an anagram of 'sausage'. I tried in vain to suppress the giggles, which ensured my rendition was far from worshipful.

Then there's the other side: music without words can undoubtedly be worshipful. A musician playing a clarinet, or a trumpet, cannot sing the words at the same time, but can certainly give worship while playing, either alone or as part of a church service. If worship is showing God's worth (as the word means) and expressing our love, then the words as such are almost irrelevant. What matters is our heart and our attitude.

Purpose-Driven Life, first seven chapters

2006-01-29T21:14:00.000+02:00

Our church is going to embark on '40 days of purpose' , in about three weeks. I don't feel good about it, but wanted to be fair so I've started reading Rick Warren's book. I'm putting aside the American hype (expecting people to sign pledges, telling them it's no coincidence they've picked up the book, all that hyperbole on the back cover blurb...) and trying to see (a) what it says (b) whether it's appropriate to me (c) whether I feel it's appropriate for our church. The thing is, I don't feel a lack of purpose. I don't know anyone who does.

In the first seven chapters, the book addresses some very basic Christian issues: life isn't about us, it's about God. Living on earth is just a short preparation time for eternity in Heaven. What we see isn't all that exists. It's important to find what God wants us to do, and live our lives according to his purposes. We're here for five main reasons: to glorify God, to grow more Christlike, to be part of a family within the church, to serve our brothers and sisters, to tell others about Jesus.

Well, duh (as they say in the USA) . I knew all that when I was about ten... it's kiddie Sunday School stuff. It was probably touched upon as something 'obvious' when I did confirmation classes at age 14. Growing up Anglican, we used liturgy week after week that covered most of that, and I don't really see how anyone who's a Christian could NOT be aware of it.

Apparently the 'campaign' in churches is partly intended to invite unbelievers along - but I don't really see that those who aren't Christians would even get half-way through the first chapter. This isn't Nicky Gumbel explaining logically and convincingly who Jesus was, based on historical evidence. No, Rick Warren leaps straight in with verses from the Bible as 'proof texts' of what he says. Fair enough for those of us who believe Scripture is the Word of God, but for those who are ambivalent about God altogether, why should Bible verses convince them of anything?

I have a slight gripe about all the Bible references, too. Rick Warren seems to switch translations every couple of sentences. I have no objection to modern translations of the Bible, and - at times- comparing several of them to find the real meaning of the Hebrew or Greek. But I don't see how it works to mix and match, apparently finding versions that fit best with what he's trying to say, and often taking them right out of context. For instance, in one place he quotes: 'Nobody can serve two masters". Yes, Jesus said that. But he was talking about the problems of being fixated on money. It's true that we shouldn't have any idols at all, and that serving God should come before everything else, but Rick Warren is taking a verse out of context and using it to 'prove' something that wasn't originally meant. I don't disagree with his conclusions, but the logic is faulty. It's along the lines of:

Rover is brown. Some dogs are brown. Therefore Rover must be a dog.

Maybe it's true that Rover is a dog, but the premises as stated do not lead to that conclusion.

Perhaps this sounds nit-picky. I'm not about to throw out the entire book based on a few logical failings such as this (that, after all, would be a logical error in my own reasoning... a few faults in anybody's teaching doesn't make them unsound). But it bothers me that this kind of thing is allowed to get in such a high-profile book, which must have been edited and republished many times.

For myself personally, I disagree with some of what is suggested. For instance: live each day as if it were your last on earth. OK, if I were a money-grubbing workaholic, this advice might make me slow down a bit and appreciate my family more. In those circumstances, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

But for a family-orientated procrastinator like myself, such exhortations don't help at all. If this were my last day on earth, I certainly wouldn't bother to wash dishes. Or mow the lawn. Or do laundry. Or catch up with finances or paperwork. I manage to motivate myself to do these things (sometimes) by focussing on the future - by the thought of the task completed, and how it benefits us all. I can go along with Warren's suggestions of looking after what God has entrusted to us (in my case, my home and family) and looking forward to eternity in general. But if I spent all my time thinking about it, I'd be - as the old quote says - 'so heavenly-minded I'm no earthly good'.

Christian labels

2005-09-18T17:03:00.000+03:00

I was pondering this post at the Sojourner blog. A Baptist pastor in the USA questioned what is meant by the word 'evangelical'. I wrote a few of my thoughts, saved in draft form, then forgot about it for six weeks...

The word evangelical seems to mean different things in different countries. In the UK it's primarily about an emphasis on Bible belief: more-or-less the opposite of 'liberal' when talking theology. However it's also used to describe a general style of worship, distinguished from 'traditional'. Although that one's a bit looser. To confuse matters further, some evangelical theology churches use traditional styles of music, and perhaps liturgy. And, of course, some much more liberal theology churches use modern upbeat music which has been written by evangelicals.

However on the whole, an evangelical British church is likely to be reasonably informal although the services may well include some structure such as liturgy. Members of such a church are likely to take the Bible seriously as God's word, applicable - at least for the most part - today, although they'll accept that there are often several possible interpretations of some passages. They're usually somewhat charismatic, at least in theology, but generally not pentecostal. Politically most evangelicals are somewhat left of centre, but not all.

In the USA the word seems to mean 'conservative' when referring to theology. Yet 'conservative' usually refers to sticking with the status quo, and evangelical churches in the USA tend to use modern music, not the sort that's been the status quo for the past few centuries. It also gets tied up in the so-called 'religious right' which as far as I can tell is an American concept, and not one I wish to discuss. At least, not today.

To add to general confusion he word 'evangelical' is sometimes misused to mean 'evangelistic'. Certainly the words have the same roots: ev/eu meaning 'good', angelos meaning 'message' or 'news'. But evangelism simply refers to telling people the good news about Jesus. Most evangelicals believe in evangelism, even if they're not very good at it. But there are some evangelists who are not evangelical...

Sadly, the evangelical movement of the 1970s (when I was a teenager) caused a lot of pain and confusion in the UK. We were repeatedly given an almost triumphalistic message by youth leaders:

Believe in Jesus, trust the Bible, read and study it every day, cling to God's promises, and everything will be fine. Thank God in all circumstances, never doubt, never despair, never give up.

That kind of thing, anyway.

Of course each of these exhortations is fine, and true, and backed up by Scripture. It's just that life isn't that simple. God doesn't always make things easy for us. Awful things happen to nice people. Christians fight, they sin, they reject each other, they hurt each other.

The other main emphasis - at least, in my memory of those years - is of the approachability of God through Jesus. And it's a very important point. God isn't remote, or a harsh judge waiting to condemn us.

On the other hand, some of the evangelical leaders tended to imply that the traditional church (mainly Roman Catholics, Greek/Russian Orthodox, and Anglican) were heretical because they focussed on tradition more than on Scripture. There was a lot of judgementalism in the evangelical movement in the UK, and a feeling of 'us and them'. We had the real truth, we were told, the traditionalists were missing the point. At best. Or even leading other astray deliberately.

Now nominalism in traditional churches is an ongoing problem. But it's not limited to the traditional churches, and - more importantly - the fact of uncommitted fringe members doesn't mean that the entire congregation or denomination is off the rails. God moves in mysterious ways, and it's certainly not for me to judge.

So am I an evangelical? Yes, in a broad sense. I do believe the Bible was inspired and is relevant today. I also believe it must be taken in context, with no single verse pulled out and turned into doctrine. If something is important to God, he'll have make it clear in more than one place. I'm not going to get hung up on head coverings or women leaders or what we do on Sundays, because those are fringe issues. My Anglican roots take me back to the Apostles' Creed as the basis of what I believe. Anyone who can say this and mean it is my brother or sister in Christ.

That's not to say that doctrine and theology are irrelevant. I like debate, and thoroughly enjoy the lively discussions we have in our church home group meetings. But I don't like being put in a particular Christian box, because I don't believe any single - ism has the whole truth. God is far bigger than we can imagine, and takes delight in his children from all backgrounds, enjoying many styles of worship. Whether we're singing traditional hymns accompanied by an organ (or even psalms a capella) or dancing in the aisles to upbeat contemporary music, accompanied by drums and rock guitar, we're all part of the huge tapestry that embodies the Body of Christ worldwide.

So if I must be categorised, I suppose I'd say I'm a broad church non-judgemental evangelical with some rather liberal leanings.

The Harry Potter controversy

2005-08-09T18:02:00.000+03:00

So, today I read this post. Someone is querying whether or not the Harry Potter books are suitable for Christians. When book six was published, I wrote this post which outlines my own views. In a nutshell: I think they're good books, they give some positive messages, and making a huge outcry against them merely ensures they're read all the more. On the other hand, I think the hype that surrounds them is ridiculous. It's way out of proportion.

Of course the debate rages on. In a way it's very sad: how decadent we in the West have become if one of the major concerns of Christendom is whether or not our children should be able to read a currently popular book. But people have always needed this kind of issue to argue about, and Christians are not exempt. So many people want things to be black-or-white - clear guidelines as to how they 'should' behave. Christians aren't exempt from that either, despite Jesus's generally laid-back attitude to moral niggles, and his insistence that love was far more important than rules or regulations.

Back to Harry Potter. Put aside the wizarding trappings for a moment, and what is the series about? At core, it's the Cinderella story in a school setting. A very unhappy child, living a life of drudgery with some really appalling (almost Dahl-ishly grotesque) relatives, suddenly learns that he is 'different' - he's famous in another world, he has money, he can go to a new school and make friends who are like himself. So off he goes to school where he not only learns to use his gifts and to focus them for positive ends, he learns about honesty, integrity, hard work and loyalty. He comes up against some bad people and there's a classic good vs evil climax to most of the books where good is shown to be stronger than evil. Even if, sometimes, unpleasant things happen along the way.

Moreover, in book one there's a very clear message given that self-sacrificial love is the strongest force in the world.

So what of the characters?

Harry is an ordinary sort of boy, given his unusual abilities. He's not briliantly academic, he's not always well-behaved, but underneath he's a boy of strong integrity who comes up against some pretty big temptations. Compare, perhaps, with Frodo Baggins in Lord of the Rings, or the children in the Narnia series. Or any everyday person thrown into unusual circumstances.

Albus Dumbledore, the wise headmaster of Harry's school, is comparable with Tolkien's Gandalf - or perhaps even Lewis's Aslan, though maybe that's going too far. Anyway, we know intuitively that Prof Dumbledore can be trusted, both as a person and as a school Head. While he's there, Hogwarts is safe. He is the main force for 'good'. With him are many other trusted friends.

The evil Lord Voldemort is also rather obviously the force for evil in the series, growing ever stronger as the books progress, but partially defeated each time by Harry and his companions. There are others in the book who side with Voldemort, and some whose behaviour is uncertain. There are surprises in the books as we discover which side some people are on, and one or two who remain undecided (from the reader's point of view) at least up to the end of book five. I'm still awaiting book six.

So... in my view, it's a positive spin on children's literature. Whereas many books for teenagers these days are filled with violence and pain, abortion, divorce, incest and worse, JK Rowling has managed something completely different. Children who read these books will not become corrupted; instead they'll see the power of positive traits. Harry and friends are not too good to be true - they have plenty of faults; but those faults are minor. When it comes to the crunch, they can be trusted to support what's right.

All right, so this might all change in the last book, which apparently has some dramatic ending which nobody has yet managed to guess. Perhaps after all Harry will go over to the dark side. Perhaps he'll be killed and evil will triumph. If so, then I'll take it all back.... but in the meantime, I see these books generally as a Good Thing.

Nor am I alone. If the symbolism in the books bothers you, read this amazing article.

As a postscript, I was recently lent a series of books by Francine Rivers to read. I was told they were exciting Christian historical novels. I read some reviews, and people said they were wonderful, awesome, brilliant....

I started the first book. The first chapter was about a Jewish Christian girl caught up in the destruction of Jerusalem in the 1st century. And it goes into the most gory detail about dead bodies, blood, people dying of starvation, and general carnage. It made me feel sick so I skimmed to the end ofthe chapter. The second chapter introduces us to a German solder who's caught up in other battles, and there's even more blood, gore and unpleasantness.

I nearly gave up by the end of that chapter. I certainly couldn't get to sleep till I found some light, amusing and relaxing literature to read instead (I chose '101 dalmations'). But the friend who lent me the book told me it got better. So I've kept reading.

Now I'm over half-way through the book, and yes, it's better. But not much. The heroine is indeed charming - a tiny light amongst a cruel and immoral people. No doubt her influence will be felt in some positive way before the end of the book. But the author seems to revel in describing the lifestyles and general atrocities in Roman society. I find myself cringing, wincing, even sickened at much of what I read. And I wonder why it's necessary to go into so much unpleasant detail. We all know what Roman life was like. I certainly don't need it spelled out in vivid images.

I also find myself wondering why some Christians think JK Rowling's writing is terrible because it's about witches and wizards in a fantasy world, while Francine Rivers is considered a great writer because she's writing from a Christian perspective about a Christian girl in a realistic world. Is it really acceptable to read about extreme violence and perverted desires merely because the author is a Christian?

The Bible tells us to fill our minds with what is 'true, noble, right, pure, lovely and honourable'. This historical fiction may contain much that was true, and in the heroine the other traits are certainly present. But when I read that book, my mind is filled with what's ignoble, wrong, perverted, ugly and dishonourable. By contrast when I read Harry Potter, there may not be anything that's true in the sense of the real world, but there's plenty that's noble, right, lovely and honourable.

What is it like as INFJ?

2005-08-05T11:33:00.000+03:00

To be pedantic, I shouldn't say 'I am an INFJ'. I should say (using the Myers-Briggs model) that I have preferences for Introverting, iNtuiting, Feeling and Judging. Or (using the cognitive processes model) that my dominant process is Introverted iNtuition, with axiliary Extraverted Feeling. Or (using the temperament model) that I'm a Role-Directing Responding Idealist. Sometimes given the title 'Foreseer Developer'.

Whew!

So much jargon. It takes a long time to come to terms with all the ramifications of these theories, and see how they interrelate. I do see them all as different sides of the same coin. Or perhaps a better analogy is the famous one of the blind men and the elephant. One felt a leg and insisted it was a tree. One felt the tail and said no, it was a rope. One held the trunk and assured his friends it was a snake. All their sensory impressions were valid, but their conclusions were false because they were each only considering one part of the whole. Put together, with someone else feeling the body, and the tusks, and understanding the patterns was necessary before the elephant could be perceived as what it was.

Of course we each have our own perspective on just about everything. And while some conclusions might be wrong, or only partly true, our perceptions are always valid. The problem arises when we refuse to acknowledge that others may have different - but equally valid - perceptions. They may also draw different conclusions, which may or may not be as accurate as our own. So long as we remain open-minded, we can always learn.

Yet we cannot be TOO open-minded. It's a fine line. 'So open-minded his brains fell out' is bandied about as an insult about someone who can't seem to think for himself. Yet the opposite of open-minded is closed-minded. Personally I prefer to err in the open-minded direction if I can't get the right balance. At least I will listen to others, and be willing to learn, and also willing to change my own misunderstandings and incorrect conclusions.

It took me a long time to realise that (using the simplest shorthand) my preferences are indeed INFJ. I didn't even want to admit it at first. I would prefer to be a straightforward person who's good at hospitality, understands logistics, makes friends reasonably well, and always understands social customs. Those people who buy just the right gift, express just the right amount of thankfulness, throw great (but relaxing) parties, invite guests to their home and find things to talk about, seem to fit in wherever they go, don't worry about dozens of contradictory perspectives and complex abstract theories ... doesn't that sound great?

But it isn't me. I finally gave up my self-image as a Guardian (albeit a rather different and not very succesful one) about six months ago, and sat down wearily in the INFJ box. There aren't many INFJs around, only about 1% of the American population, and perhaps similarly low elsewhere. So I don't even have any role models whose preferences match mine. Descriptions aren't always very useful either. The one on the Personality Page for instance, doesn't leap out at me at all. I don't think I"m particularly complex, I'm certainly not artistic. I like things to be fairly orderly and systematic, but I'm very bad at arranging them that way. Logistics is the realm of the Guardians, not the Idealists.

There's plenty more that does describe me (warm, sometimes intuitive about people, potentially stubborn...) but then personality descriptions have a lot of generalisations in them and most of us can find something in just about all of them that seem to fit. For years I identified with ISTJ descriptions, and then for a year or so with ISFJ. I can't honestly say that INFJ is a better match, as far as most descriptions go.

On the other hand, there's much in this description at the BestFitType site which is correct. I like this site, because it talks about 'best fit' types rather than exact matches. It also uses personal descriptions by people with the particular types, ensuring as much as possible that is common to all of this type rather than vague generalisations which either apply to just about anyone (whatever their type) or only a few people.

Even so, I had to read it a few times before I made sense of it. But that figures. The core of each of us is what we take for granted, what's always been there. It's not obvious to us at all, and for Introverts like myself it's not much evident to anyone else either.

Here are a few sentences from that page which really do sum up who I am:

Connecting for me means being able to intuitively ask questions of people to get them to go deeper into the things they are talking about.

Yes! Rapport is very important to me, and one of the ways I establish it is to ask questions. I like to encourage people to think beyond the box. To figure out WHY they believe what they do.

Sadly, this often leads to misunderstandings. It's only recently that I realised that not everyone wants to think more deeply about anything. Some people want to accept what they've been taught, at more-or-less face value. Others adopt strong moral principles, but then feel threatened if anyone else queries them.

For an INFJ, querying something is not the same as attacking it. In fact I'm not sure I'd attack any philosophy or belief, because I truly believe everyone is entitled to believe whatever they like, however pointless or immature, or even incorrect. If it's a belief that's going to put them - or someone else - in danger, I want them to see it for themselves. Sometimes I seem argumentative, even provocative, but it never (all right, hardly ever!) feels that way from where I sit. It's just that what I'm hearing isn't congruent, and I want to hear more - for the other person either to explain in a way I can truly understand (even if I don't agree with it) or to see any fallacies and move on.

Here's another sentence from that description:

The challenge is opening up people’s minds to have their own original thoughts. I’m a listener and guide.

Absolutely. It seems so obvious. Isn't that what magazine articles, and mailing lists and blogs are for?

But not everyone sees them that way. I've had to learn that some people really don't like their minds being opened up, and perceive any attempt to do so as criticism. So either I phrase my questions more tactfully, or I swallow them altogether and say nothing. Sometimes the latter option is the right one, but it's a very difficult lesson for me to learn. If someone doesn't want a listener or guide, and is not interested in deep thinking or new perspectives, then that is their right.

In the meantime, if anybody I've upset with questions comes across this post, there's another vital sentence in that description:

I’m not as outgoing or as critical as I may sometimes appear.

Truly.

There are other parts of that description that are absolutely right. Caring is (for me) at least partly about helping people grow. Physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally. And yes, when I care about someone I care deeply even if I'm not always very good at showing it.

I love reading and writing. Indeed, I need to read. Fiction as well as non-fiction. Secular books as well as Christian books. Some people don't understand that either, but books are almost as important to me as food and drink. I also need to write. I have always written something - journals, stories, appalling poetry in my young childhood - and know I communicate better in writing than I do in speech.

I would like my day to be structured and organised. I set up routines, and sometimes I stick to them. Many times I don't, but it doesn't mean I don't like structure. I just can't be tied to it, and - much as I would like to think I follow logic rather than emotion - if I don't FEEL like doing something, it's very difficult to bring myself to do it.

Finally, one sentence which sums me up, and my purpose in blogging. I don't know if this is typical of all INFJs, but I suspect it might be.

If we spent more time trying to understand each other’s point of view, to communicate more effectively, we would grow.

Personality models

2005-08-03T12:31:00.000+03:00

Each person is a unique individual, created by God.

That's the heart of what I believe. Even identical twins are different in some ways; for everybody, there never has (and never will be) another person the same.

However there are similarities between certain people. Not just in physical appearance, but in the way they are. They way the behave. How they relate, and learn, and make decisions. And to understand others better - to help our own communication and relationships - it can be valuable to learn from those who have researched and observed and produced theories to explain the patterns.

One of the oldest is the theory of temperament. Ancient Greeks divided people according to which body fluid of four they thought was most prevalent. Over the ages there have been quite a few similar theories about what motivates people at their core, the most recent in this genre being Keirsey's temperament theory. His book '' Please Understand Me II" is well-written and appealing in many ways. It divides the entire world into just four temperaments:

The Idealist who seeks authenticity and rapport
The Artisan who seeks freedom and impact
The Rational who seeks achievement and competence
The Guardian who seeks belonging and security.

One problem, of course, is that we all seek all these things to some degree, and seeing which one is our 'core' is not easy, because we tend to take it for granted.

Another problem is that within each of these four temperaments there are huge variations. Two are explained by Keirsey. Each temperament has those who are 'Introverted' or 'Responding', and those who are 'Extraverted' or 'Initiating'. Extraverts gain their energy from other people, Introverts become drained by other people.

The other division is into Role-informing or Role-directing: if we want someone to do something, we have a preference either for asking them directly, or for giving them some pertinent information.

So four temperaments divided twice leads to sixteen possibilities; these are - mostly - congruent to the well-known Myers-Briggs types.

Of course nobody (or hardly anybody) finds their type by taking a questionnaire, of which there are several online and some available professionally. Answers depend on how we interpret the questions, how honest we are, what mood we're in when answering the questions, and possibly what we think the questions are leading to. When I first came across Myers-Briggs, I seemed to test as ISTJ. An Introverted Guardian with role-directing style. The descriptions I found online (there are many) all seemed to be reasonable, although I prided myself in being rather different - more thoughtful, less rigid, not remotely interested in business or commerce.

Then I started studying cognitive functions - the way some of the functions of Myers-Briggs operate within each of us. It became clear that ISTJ was not correct, and I considered ISFJ. Later on, in discussing temperament, I realised INFJ is more likely still.

But INFJ isn't all of who I am. There are other personality models - many of them. I've learned a bit about the Enneagram, which deals more in motivation than behaviour. No doubt there are many others, and more will be discovered. None of them, to my way of thinking, is the whole truth. Each one is simply a different way of looking at humanity, seeing different patterns. Like a kaleidoscope. Or a single thread in a tapestry. Or the construction of a certain model from Lego pieces, which can be taken apart and re-built in a completely different way. If one model helps me understand someone better, or learn how to communicate with them better, then I'll adopt it for a while. If it doesn't help with a particular problem, I'll try something else.

Abstract vs concrete

2005-08-02T15:07:00.000+03:00

David Keirsey, in 'Please Understand Me II' talks about use of language as being one of the main dividers between two groups of temperament: a preference for concrete or abstract speech. In Myers-Briggs/MBTI terms, this is similar to the 'Sensing' and 'iNtuiting' preferences (S or N) respectively.

While I've thought of myself as fairly concrete for years, I've realised in discussion with others that I'm actually more of an abstract thinker. Of course we all live in the concrete world, so we can't avoid a certain amount of concrete language. But given my own time and space, I think about theories, philosophies, theology. I love sitting around chatting about such things, whereas the price of apples interests me only for about ten seconds.

My 'Life in Cyprus' blog is informational, for those interested in us as a family or in moving to Cyprus. As such it's primarily concrete as I describe things we do and the way life works. My 'Random recipes' blog is just that: recipes we use in our family. For information, for future reference, and to add a tiny fraction to the wealth of recipes online already. My 'Recent reading' blog is a rather self-indulgent place for brief personal reviews of all the books I've read, for my own satisfaction and future browsing. And as recommendations to others, should anyone read them. My 'Quizzes and questionnaires' blog is even more self-indulgent; a place to quote all the results of those quizzes that pass around in emails and on other blogs.

And this one? Who knows. But I hope it will catch the extra stuff I want to write about but which - so far - had no outlet.