Another thing I’ve been pondering/dreaming over since the visit by the Windsor Park people came out of a remark by the finance person, Linda. Mentioned the Cardboard Cathedral and dreamed of the possibility of walls that open out to allow extreme indoor outdoor flow. Our Leadership Team has talked about the site as Te Oro : The Orchard and everyone who has thought about how we should develop the site has stressed the importance of keeping some of the trees and the orchard feel. So, I began to dream (sadly continued while awake and therefore unable to get back to sleep in the middle of the night).
a church building made of recycled material (at least as much as is financially and structurally viable but over 50%). After all God is in the business of upcycling tired, broken, worn out lives. Not a Cardboard Cathedral but a Recycled Church. Such an aim/claim would also be newsworthy and could encourage possible grants etc..
suppose the walls somehow opened out like wings (eagles’ wings cf. Is 40:31?) bringing the outside in – the ultimate indoor-outdoor flow.
Ideally we’d site it among the avocado, keeping some around and perhaps using some as an avenue leading to the church.
The fluorescent cross on Mt Roskill is like a church on the hill visible for miles…
Back in the day you wanted to be the church on the hill. Visible from all around the neighbourhood, ideally with a big fluorescent cross to make things more obvious – the church was the centre of the community. It was the place people went when disaster struck. There for hatch, match, and finally dispatch services, but also an ever present comfort in time of trouble.
It’s biblical, Jesus talked about a city on a hill, a light that should not be hidden under a bushel.1 So one of the features of the property that God2 has given to us – aside from the miraculous decision to add a big primary school slap next door – is its location. Just at the very top of the hill, on the edge of the ridge above the new Lakes development. Wow! A church there fronting on the new roundabout, with even a modest spire and that fluorescent cross will be visible almost all the way to the Kaimais.
Today, in NZ, the church is no longer the centre of the community, people no longer default to churches for hatch, match, or dispatch. When they need a bridge over troubled waters it’s the insurance company they call, not the pastor. Or WINZ, or the doctor… For a church to be accessible today it does not help to be slap on the top of the hill. Fluorescent lights will be ignored.
As one of the Windsor Park people3 at our meeting last night neatly expressed it, the website is today’s hill top. If people want to find us (and Google tells me that in January people did, 800 times) they can easily get directions from GoogleMaps, and quickly decide if they like the look of us by a quick gander at the Church website.
But before they do that we have to earn their interest. We won’t earn it with flashy buildings (the Warehouse and the Casino will always outflash us) but by being a place they come to for other reasons, by being people they have learned to trust.
So, there’s no need for us to build the church slap on the roundabout, not even on the street frontage at all. Rather there in prime position we need something that invites people in, that offers the hope of rest and peace in a busy and dangerous world…
Whatever one of those might have been, we must never hide our lights under them. (Matt 5:14-15) [↩]
Aided by some very generous giving, and a seesawing property market here in the Bay of Plenty, and the wonderful work of Christian Savings – back in the day when they were still just Baptist Savings. [↩]
Moderating “Unit Quality Assurance Forms” is normally a fairly dull but useful way to earn (part of) a living. Today however I was presented with a gem of a short story by Isaac Asimov1 It dates back to the distant days when I was doctoral student. It explains why Moses described creation in just six days. The story had me roaring with laughter in just a minute or two.
Sadly looking Google seeking more info to led me to James McGrath;s blog, which in turn led me to another blog where some spoilsport claimed in the comments that the story was not Asimov’s “How it happened” but pseudigraphal. Research on Google Books led to no firm conclusion, indeed it seemed to confirm the doubters.
However, Archive.org saved the day, offering a copy of Asimov’s SF Adventure Magazine v01n02 (1979 Spring) there on pages 64 and 65 the gem appears.
Among other interesting material he notes, and often in a few well-chosen words reviews, was a post by Mark Zvi Brettler at TheTorah.com on ‘The Gender of God‘. As you might expect, I would have put things differently, and weighted the arguments differently, but then the post would have been less interesting. (For me at least, as it is careful scholars with whom I disagree a little from whom I often learn the most!) Brettler is far more careful than most writers on this topic to note and respect the distinction between the historico-critical and theological meanings of his texts. Strangely, though he is the Jew I would be the one to put greater weight on reading in the light of the tradition of interpretation which it seems o me he ends up downplaying. (Perhaps because he was conscious of writing as an ‘academic’.)1
It that’s correct, it raises sharply again the question of whether, and why not if the response is negative, confessional theological work is academic. Are Marxist readings of history not academic? And what should a historian who is a convinced Marxist do with his Marxism when writing history? [↩]
In a post I missed back in June, Jackson Wu takes up the idea that the Bible’s story is dystopian. It will surprise no one that this idea resonates with me. I’ve recommended this blog, also, before, but this post really deserves a read.
There has been far too much nonsense written contrasting reading on various types of screens1 with reading from paper. Some of the nonsense has been ‘research based’, though most of the research has been deeply flawed or trivial. At last there is a study that collates the data. They examined over 800 studies of which only 36 directly compared screen and paper!
As I hear it, key findings from this elephantine literature review, and so even more mammoth research effort include:
reading is faster on screen
comprehension is deeper on paper
subjects’ estimates of how much they absorbed were reversed (they thought they absorbed more from the screen)
most studies investigated linear texts, but hypertexts may be better suited to some tasks
Like so much research, none of this (except perhaps the recognition that people cannot effectively self-assess their information absorption) is a surprise. Once again, research underlines what sensible people have been saying ad infinitum. At this stage of technological development screens (of various sorts and this variability still needs to be properly investigated) and paper books have different advantages and different affordances.
Thinking of my current reading tasks:
marking student essays: clearly better on screen as reading is faster (this is a particular advantage for me as I am a very slow reader)
marking a PhD: paper is clearly better (as here I need better comprehension and retention)2
reading journal articles and book chapters in preparing a course: paper is better for better comprehension (except I find the material online, so waiting for paper delivery would be stupid, even if I had a POD machine)
reading a SF novel for pleasure: screen is better as I have no need to retain information
Except: for the PhD the case is more mixed as I have a deep and abiding revulsion to sitting chained to a desk (probably stemming from my sad experiences of education in childhood). The paper copy of the almost 500 page thesis weighs in at 1.25 Kg and is A4 by several cms thick, even printed doublesided, physically this is no easy task and hand strain limits the time I can spend reading. I also have to drop the brick and lift my laptop every time I want to make a note (how much easier to swap windows on my laptop).3
Usually conflated as if screens were all one type of reading and it was the electronic imprint that mattered not the size or reflective vs. light emitting character, let alone how many other functions the device permitted… that mattered. [↩]
I realise this last does not apply to most of you who learned to write easily and quickly with a pen or pencil, but my hand writing is extremely slow and very difficult to decipher later, quite aside from the advantage of cutting and pasting into my report. How I look forward the the time when NZ Universities finally enter the digital age! [↩]
I have pointed before (often) to Vinoth Ramachandra’s thoughtful and thought-provoking posts. If you have failed to subscribe directly to his blog (why?) his latest post is particularly good. As a taster, here is one early paragraph:
I believe that the near-hysterical denunciation of the white far-right marchers in Charlottesville, Virginia, with numerous calls on Twitter and elsewhere for their sacking from their jobs and expulsion from universities, is evidence of a lack of understanding about human rights.
I can’t remember if I have yet linked to The Mother God Experiment. Sadly due to the way Facebook hides our non-friends from us, placing their messages into the outer darkness, I only discovered Susan Harrison’s work recently.
Her blog is a fascinating exploration of what it means (and how we can) begin to explore thinking of (and speaking to) God as mother as well as father.
So, when she invited me to do a guest post for (American) Fathers’ Day I said “maybe”. Being a decisive sort of chap! And knowing how difficult mothers’ day is in churches, and how much more contentious fathers’ day is, or would be if we actually celebrated it, then started to say, “no”. Being a cautious sort of chap!
But I couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair to all those trying and (being only human) failing to be good fathers. So here is my guest post:
Two friends1 have in different ways prompted this post. One is a technologist trained in the sciences, who in the context of dissatisfaction with understanding the how of a particular area of theology wrote:2
Can someone tell me how I can learn to become more comfortable with mystery?
The other is someone who is troubled (in the context of talk about unmerited suffering and the justice of God, by me ascribing much that happens to “chance”.
The justice of God has troubled me all my life, as far back as I can remember I have been aware not only of “those less fortunate” but even of those who suffer acutely for no just cause. The book of Job is a comfort, Job does not know why he suffers, complains bitterly to God and demands a hearing for his complaint against the injustice of the creator. His judicial complaint receives no hearing, except by human judges who fail to accept his plea (the three friends, or even more Elihu, who not having actively participated before steps in in Job 32 to sum up, which he does ineptly and justifying God by failing to admit the justice of Job’s case). However, before the book ends Job receives two responses from God which, though they do not respond to Job’s accusation, remind Job of who God is and of how wondrous it is that a creature can relate to their Creator!
The answer to (almost?) all the big questions is a deeper layer of mystery.
In responding to people who complain of the injustice of life3 I point to Job, but even more to Jesus who in Luke 13:1-5 makes clear that much (all?) suffering in this world is not justice meted out by a vengeful or benevolent Creator but simply chance.
To say this, however, is not the whole story, for in Scripture there is no such thing as “chance”. When Joseph (in Gen 37) wandering aimlessly in the land around Shechem just happens to meet the one man who can tell him where his brothers have gone and so sets in motion all the rest of the events of his life, Bible readers know this is not random. When Ruth (Ruth 2:3) just happens to glean in Boaz’ field (in all the fields of Bethlehem why did you have to pick this one?) we know this “happening” is not random. And when Amos pondering war other disasters says:
Is a trumpet blown in a city, and the people are not afraid?
Does disaster befall a city, unless the LORD has done it?
He recognises that the bad, like the good, must be ultimately laid at the door of the Maker of All.4
This chance that is not random, like the unloving injustice of the God who is love, and justice, is a mystery. It is one we cannot understand in this life. Though perhaps God on a stick, Christ crucified, points towards the resolution of this terrible paradox.