Aha moments

From Friday Mailing:

From Ed Sanders (Richard Cooke says these are ‘ reflections on his practice as a university teacher. As well as being an outstanding NT scholar himself, Sanders has also produced a rich crop of graduate students – the quote below may show why!’)

“I think that the greatest moment in a teacher’s life is seeing a student have an “ah ha” moment by his or her own endeavor. The instructor’s clever or even memorable phrasing is worth much less. I began my career by overestimating students: I did not realize how much they needed repetition and the practice of describing texts and ideas in their own words. The more patient I was, and the harder I worked at getting them to see things for themselves—rather than offering my own glib solutions of difficulties—the better I was at teaching and the more rewarding I found the activity. The hardest thing to do—at which I often failed in my early years—is to find the students’ own level.”

The whole thing is at http://www.duke.edu/web/gradreligion/documents/GPRnewsfall2008.pdf.

>Life Together

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This is from a graphic novel of Bonhoeffer I found on bonhoefferblog.

Bonhoeffer wrote a book called Life Together laying down guidelines for communal living in the 20th century. He was a vehement opponent of the Third Reich. At a time when Nazi policy was to eliiminate the weakest (Jews, gays, gypsies, mentally ill et al) Bonhoeffer was arguing for small family-like units to protect the smallest and the weakest. He used the image of chain links as in this quote from Life Together:

In a Christian community, everything depends upon whether each individual is an indispensable link in a chain. Only when even the smallest link is securely interlocked is the chain unbreakable. A community which allows unemployed members to exist within it will perish because of them. It will be well, therefore, if every member receives a definite task to perform for the community, that he may know in hours of doubt that he, too, is not useless and unusable. Every Christian community must realize that not only do the weak need the strong, but also that the strong cannot exist without the weak. The elimination of the weak is the death of the fellowship.

While reflecting on this I have been reading The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (film clip below). This is a very powerful – and very simple – story of two boys who strike up a friendship either side of the wire fence of Auschwitz. A different sort of story of Hitler’s Germany. Another story is told in the film Defiance – a film of four Jewish brothers from Poland who escape the Nazis to fight back to rescue fellow Jews – (on my list of films to see).

Twelfth Night

Today is Epiphany – January 6th. Twelfth Night – down with that tree and away with that tinsel. Highlight of the season has been reading The First Christmas by Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan. This has given spiritual direction for this wonderful season. Borg and Crossan describe the birth stories of Matthew and Luke’s gospels as “parabolic overtures” for their whole gospel of joy and conflict – personal and political.

Today, Epiphany, focus is on the story of the visit of the Magi who travel one road and then return by another road. The road they travel is to the palace of Jerusalem. Of course, they would go that way. The way of the worldy wise is to the palace and the court. They discover how wrong they are. In Breugemann’s phrase, they finish “9 miles wide”, and discover their journey’s end (and their beginning – TS Eliot) to be not at the court of Herod but in the outbuildings of an inn in Bethlehem. Their return “by another road” signifies repentance – a change of mind – demanded by the Jesus of the Gospel. “They no longer walked the same path, but followed another way.”

Messrs Borg and Crossan wonder whether I am “like the Magi who follow the light and refuse to comply with the ruler’s plot to destroy it.” Or whether I am like Herod “filled with fear and willing to use whatever means necessary to maintain power, even violence and slaughter.” Am I among those “who yearn for the coming of the kingdom of justice and peace, who seek peace through justice”, or am I among those “advocates of imperial theology who seek peace through victory?”

Borg and Crossan refer to the three tenses of Christmas. Past, present and future – as retold by Charles Dickens in the Christmas Carol. Of the future tense they refer to three different understandings:
One is called “interventionist eschatology” – in which only God can bring about the new world.
The second is called “participatory eschatology” in which we are to participate with God in bringing about the world promised by Christmas.
The third involves letting go of eschatology altogether in which Christian hope is not about the transformation of this world.
Only the second is affirmed by Borg and Crossan – thankfully. “We who have seen the star and heard the angels sing are called to participate in the new birth and new world proclaimed by these stories.” They quote Augustine’s aphorism: “God without us will not; we without God cannot.”

>Pardon me

>How do we hear confession these days?
The answer is that we increasingly hear them with banners of publicity (tabloid headlines) and humiliation. Everything seems to be so terribly public these days with the interesting excuse for broadcasting our sins being “it’s in the reader’s/hearer’s interest”. I don’t call it confession when someone has been hounded and a “confession” wrung out of them. That’s like a someone being wrestled to the canvas to find out who ate the last Rolo. That’s not confession but submission. The person confessing has to be in control of the conversation – not the other way round.
Confessions are normally heard by friends (including our confessions of not being a good friend for them). They are people we can confide in. We choose the confessor/friend to fit the confession and it’s someone whose judgement we can trust and whose love we can trust will not be shaken by the disclosure that “here’s a bit of myself you may or may not know that I don’t like and find difficult to live with” – or “here’s something I’ve done (or do) of which I am greatly ashamed. The confidence is that the confessor and the confession is going to help me to reshape how I view myself and amend what I do, and is going to keep the confession to the privacy of the confessional.
Sometimes a confession is out of the reach of friends – beyond their power to comprehend when they have to honestly say they cannot help us on this one. They might need the help of a counsellor – someone with the knowledge and the experience that is needed. I wonder whether something similar was going on in the story from the gospels of the those who bring their friend to Jesus and lower him through the roof so that he can hear Jesus’s good news that his sins are forgiven.
When we hear confession we normally hear something with which we are very familiar that all sorts of bells ring in our own hearts. Sometimes though we hear of something which is so beyond our own experience and understanding that we don’t know what to make of it. We have to cope with our shock, nausea and sometimes even revulsion. Thinking this through I have come to realise how important what we (in the trade) call theological reflection. Theological reflection is a process we can go through involving exploration and reflection to help us to the best possible response. We have to remember that the person confessing has also gone through that process of theological reflection to be at the point of confession. S/he will have had countless replays and sleepless nights weighing offences and options before coming to the conclusion that the best way forward on this or that is to confide in another.
Confessors should love them for that moral courage alone. They should be sure that God does. Then a smile, a touch, an “it’s OK” (genuinely, not cheaply, given)is sometimes all that is needed for someone to know that their sins are forgiven.
As Christians we need to celebrate these sacramental moments of reconciliation and healing. Perhaps we need to confess to our monopolising and over-institutionalising confession. We tend to focus in our worship on confessing our sins to God. Perhaps at the back of our minds is the question posed by the Pharisees – “Who can forgive sins – surely only God can forgive sins?” But Jesus did teach us to forgive one another, so let’s hope we respond well when someone has the confidence in us to say “pardon me”.

>Up North

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We were able to see two films while up north in Edinburgh.
Michelle Yeoh, Sean Bean and Michelle Krusiec star in Far North – a tragedy for the three main characters with a particular focus on Saiva, played by Michelle Yeoh. With lavish photography of the far north, minimal dialogue and a beautiful pace, the film portrays what happens in the wild, beyond the reach of law – particularly when one knows she is cursed.

>New Year

> It was an Edinburgh New Year for us with our son and partner. It was good to relax with them – though it wasn’t so relaxing at the Princes Street party. What was moving was New Year’s Day at St John’s Church where we were all invited to confess/dispose of our shame of ’08. Everyone had something to dispose of in the liturgical waste basket – which was then set alight (I bet the Church Council hadn’t discussed that!) and did its dance as the most perfectly formed flame – then drenched in water (?baptism) – and the consequential smoke rising in prayer for a new beginning.

We sang words from Desmond Tutu.

We prayed:

Come Father,
Come Mother,
Come Lord Jesus
Come Holy Spirit of God
Give us for our hallowing
thoughts that pass into prayer
Prayer that passes into love,
and love that passes into action.

And we prayed:

May the blessed sun shine on us and warm each heart till it glows like a great fire, so that strangers and friends may come in and warm themselves. May the light shine out from our eyes, like a candle set in the windows of a house, and may the risen Lord bless us and bless us kindly.

But most of all, we were quiet – enjoying this public space of Edinburgh into which some people had had the care to invite us.

>Peace on Earth and other Tinsel

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Christmas is not about tinsel and mistletoe or even ornaments and presents, but aabout what means we will use toward the end of a peace from heaven upon our earth. Or is “peace on earth” but a Christmas ornament taken each year from attic or basement and returned there as soon as possible?

Marcus J Borg and John Dominic Crossan in The First Christmas reviewed here. Borg and Crossan underline the subversion of the Christmas stories – subverting the political cultures of Roman imperial power. Both Jesus and Caesar share many titles – among them “Lord” and “Son of God” and both have a vision for peace on earth. The difference is that one is “peace through victory” and the other is “peace through justice” – and Borg and Crossan remark (what we all know)

“the terrible truth is that our world has never established peace trhough victory. Victory establishes not peace but lull. Thereafter, violence returns once again, and always worse than before.”