Capturing neighbourhood life in a civil war

Belfast is a beautiful and touching movie, that seeks to capture what life must have been like for just one family living in a Belfast neighbourhood as "the troubles" unfolded in the late 1960s. It captures the tragedy, stupidity, and humanity of civil war, violence, prejudice, and religion in its most divisive form.

The scene that I found the most poignant was when Ma and Pa (the wife and husband) argue about leaving Belfast for a better life in England. Ma says

"You an me, we have known each other since we

were toddlers. We’ve known this street, and every

street round it, all our lives, an every man, woman, an’

chil’ that lives in every bloody house, whether we like

it or not.

I like it.

An’ y’ say you’ve a wee garden for them boys? But

here they can play where the hell they like, cos

everybody knows them, everybody likes them, and

everybody looks after them.

If we go over the water, them people’s not gonna

undestan’ a word we say, an’ half o’ them’ll take the

hand outta us for soundin’ different.

The o’r half, they’ll hate us cos men here are killin

their young sons on our streets, an’ they think we

couldn’ give a shite.

Y’ think they’ll welcome us with open arms, an’ say

‘Come on in, an’ well done for stealin a house off of

us?’"

The movie is a great testimony to the value of community and of family. 

Cultivating a heart like God

What should the life of a Christian be like? Is there a "normal" Christian life? How does one balance prayer, contemplation, and action? Over the past two thousand years, many have wrestled with these questions, both theoretically and practically, and provided diverse answers. My friend and fellow "Holy" Scribbler, Charles Ringma, reflects on his own struggles, in A Fragile Hope: Cultivating a Hermitage of the Heart. In 2016, he took a six-month sabbatical and spent much of the time in a hermitage in the Australian bush, and published his reflections in Sabbath Time: A Hermitage Journey of Retreat, Return and Communion.

A Fragile Hope is the reflections of Charles motivated by feelings that on returning to a "normal" life, filled with responsibilities and distractions, he has struggled to re-create some of the special time at the hermitage. He provides a helpful summary of this book in the Afterword (page 103). 

...the Christian life is about entering into a transformative relationship with God through Christ in the Spirit. This relationship reorients us to become more and more like Christ and more and more engaged in gods concern for our world. 

But living this way is a huge challenge, for it calls us to ongoing conversion away from stubborn self-determination and futile self-sufficiency and towards greater humility, dependence on God's provision, sustanence, and direction for our lives. This means that we are called into a constant relationship with and attentiveness to the God who both nurtures us and sends us into the world. 

This journey has nothing to do with progress or status, but rather an ongoing encounter with the One who is the very source of life, who is everywhere present in our world, and calls us to intimacy and service.

This call invites us to build a hermitage of the heart. Such a hermitage is not a place, but a disposition. It is a tapestry of existence, a fabric of life, a way of being. It is who we are in both the inner recesses of our being and our engagement with others and the world. 

Such a hermitage is both a gift and a task. It is a gift from the ever-brooding Spirit, who brings to us the riches of Christ, and it is a task that we shepherd and steward as we engage those around us. 

Charles is vulnerable in the book, humbly and honestly sharing his struggles. He is eighty years old, has spent his adult life following Jesus, and by "worldly" standards, has had a "successful" Christian life. He started Teen Challenge in Australia, completed a Ph.D., has published many books, and taught in leading seminaries in Asia and in Canada. But, here you see some of his discouragements, doubts, despairs, struggles, and failings. He wrestles with his own inner turmoil, his own sin, and with God, particularly his feeling that God fails to act to reform the church and to create a more just world.

Charles shares how he has benefitted from a diversity of voices from the past two thousand years, including the spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers (Chapter 5), Francis (21), Ignatius (26), Benedict (14), the Celtic monks (9), and the Anabaptists (18). These brief engagements help put our twenty-first century struggles in historical context and may whet the appetite to engage more with some of these diverse and ancient traditions. 

The limitations of some metaphors for the life journey of a Christian, particularly the medieval ladder and pilgrimage are pointed out. But there should be movement: upward, inward, and outward. The journey involves moving toward God, nurturing our inner being (soul), and towards others.

There are many dimensions to the hermitage of the heart. Here are a few.

"Liminality is experiential, a sort of no man's land, where previous certainties have collapsed, and new certainties have not yet swum into view." (page 86).

Be a God botherer; not about personal circumstances, but bother God about the state of our world, and why God does not act in our world. There is a beautiful and heartfelt, song of lament, by Charles on pages 18-19.

Engage the ordinary and seek God in the ordinary.

Life is messy. Engage it but do not be consumed by it.

Hermitages are places where hermits lived. A hermitage has come to symbolise a special place where an individual may withdraw from the world and possibly encounter God. Although advocating a "hermitage of the heart", Charles still advocates for the spirituality of place. The purpose of "sacred" places "is not to contain God in some way, but to focus ourselves in relation to God" (page 32). 

Monk's Hermitage in a Cave 

How did the book challenge me personally? Unlike Charles, I am reluctant to reduce my activism and spend more time praying. I still have the naivety and hubris to think I can make a real difference.

The book is brief and could be read in a single setting. It is easy to read but deep and dense. It is better to read it slowly and return to it. There are 28 chapters in one hundred pages. Just reading a chapter a day is a good approach.

Aside: I was intrigued to know the genealogy of the "hermitage of the heart" metaphor. I discovered that at the same time last year  Hermitage of the Heart: 40 Days to Peace, Prayer, and the Presence of God by John Michael Talbot was published.

 I thank Charles for the gift of a copy of the book. Last month we discussed it at our theology reading group, with Charles present.

Why can't we talk to one another?

 There are many things to be concerned about in this tumultuous world. I am hesitant about people who claim there is one big issue or problem that we need to fix in order to create a better world. Yet, here I will suggest an issue that is an obstacle to moving forward as a society on a wide range of issues, whether it is racism, economic inequality, abortion, climate change, vaccines, refugees, or political polarisation, ...

In the Western world, we have lost the art of conversation. We can't talk to one another anymore, particularly about controversial issues. We don't seem to be able to have civil and informed dialogue. This is happening at all scales, from families to groups of friends, churches, and national political discussions.

A major cause of the problem is smartphones and more specifically social media. Unless we learn to manage each of them, from the individual to the national level, I fear we are moving towards a dark era of chaos, instability, violence, and authoritarianism.

In order to see the problem from several different angles, I want to explore the following questions.

What is the evidence that there has been a significant decline in civil discussion?

What might be the causes of the problem?

Why does this matter so much?

How does this problem reflect innate human aspirations?

What is a theological perspective on these aspirations?

How might the problem be addressed?

Let me begin with the first question.

What is the evidence that there has been a significant decline in civil discussion?

The problem may be most acute in the U.S.A. Political polarisation was increasing before Trump and solidified by him. Extended families who normally enjoyed one another's company discovered that family gatherings were fraught and dreaded. The "culture wars" have spilled into school board meetings: some have moved from being boring bureaucratic affairs to shouting matches. On the national level it has become difficult for Congress to pass any legislation, even a budget to keep the government running, regardless of who is in power.

The comments sections on online newspaper articles seem to be a mixture of the inane, cruel, irrelevant, condescending, ... with opponents trading insults. Facebook discussions, even among "friends", too often degenerate into uncivil arguments that are informed by hearsay and conspiracy theories.

What might be causing the problem?

I don't want to be naive and deny the problems of the past or romanticise the past. There have always been elements of society that have engaged in discussion that was uncivil and ill-informed. Political debate has too often been superficial and polarised. However, smartphones and social media have escalated these problems and tendencies to a whole different level. Why?

 

The medium through which you communicate can have a significant effect on the quality of the communication. In face to face communication, you are aware that the person you are talking to is a living breathing human being, just like you, and with feelings, thoughts, aspirations, and sensitivities. One does not just communicate with words but also with the tone of voice, pauses, eye contact, and body language. It is not just what you say but how you say it. These elements of face to face communication increase understanding and empathy, and moderate anger and hostility. Conversation partners respond to one another in real-time, providing the opportunity for clarification, short-circuiting the possibility to stew over and misinterpret the content or intentions of your partner.

These important elements of face to face communication are completely missing in social media, decreasing the accuracy of communication, empathy, and awareness of the humanity of the conversation partner. Sometimes they are just a name, even a pseudonym, seen on the screen of a smartphone. 

Social media also presents the problem of "echo chambers" and misinformation. You can choose your sources of information and who you have conversations with. You can avoid engaging with people who have different views to you or with information that you do not agree with or may challenge your views.

Hopefully, I will come to the other questions soon.

Feel free to weigh in with your own perspective. Do you think this is a major problem? What is causing it? How might it be addressed?

The story of just one homeless man

 My wife and I watched the movie, The Soloist, based on a true story of how a journalist for The Los Angeles Times became friends with a homeless man, who was a gifted musician and plagued by mental illness.

Several important things were captured by the movie.

Every homeless person is a human, just like anyone else. Each has a story: both before homelessness and during it. Each has gifts, struggles, and aspirations. They need to be treated with dignity and respect.

The privileged should not try to "rescue" the homeless, particularly out of a sense (conscious or unconscious, stated or unstated) of superiority, virtue, guilt, or desire for validation.

Homelessness is a tragedy.

Homelessness is a complex issue with many dimensions: personal, political, economic, social, health, spiritual, ... 

Just because simple solutions do not work does not mean that we should give up.

A model academic conversation about Christian transformation

What does it mean to be human? How might a Christian address this question? How does Christian formation happen and what are its moral implications?  

This week at the theology reading group we are discussing a book that wrestles with these questions.

Becoming Whole and Holy: An Integrative Conversation about Christian Formation, by Jeannine K. Brown, Carla M. Dahl, and Wyndy Corbin Reuschling

The three authors are all seminary professors in the USA. They present a conversation drawing on their respective academic disciplines: social science, biblical studies/hermeneutics, and ethics.

The "method" used is "offer, receive, and integrate." Specifically, each author presents two chapters that give a perspective based on their discipline. This is followed by a chapter in which the two other authors respond, and then a three-way conversation about how their insights and perspectives might be integrated. 

In some ways, this book is (sadly) unique in that the tone is one of humble listening, mutual respect and appreciation, but with room for questioning and dissonance. I found the generosity of spirit refreshing. This has been facilitated by the authors being friends and professional colleagues for several decades.

There are many ideas in the book I found refreshing, helpful, and resonated with.

Multi-disciplinarity. There is a serious and sincere attempt to obtain a multi-faceted perspective by seriously engaging with other disciplines, including acknowledging the limitations of each discipline. Christians need not be afraid of the social sciences.

Rich theology. Several concepts are at the forefront. The Trinity is a model for the character of God and human relationality and particularity. Humanity is made in the image of God and this underscores human dignity, including the Other (those different from us). Personal holiness and wholeness mean participation in Christ and theosis (taking on the character of God). The Old Testament concept of shalom is the model for social wholeness and holiness.

Ethics matters. We live in a complex world of smartphones, sweatshops, marketing, wars, gross inequality, and refugees. How should then should communities of Christians live? Discerning answers requires ongoing prayer, study, debate, initiative, experiment, and reflection.

Context-sensitive. The authors repeatedly emphasise how hermeneutics is about being sensitive to differences (and similarities) between the original context of the different books in the Bible and the context of any reader today. They also wonder about how their own USA context influences their interpretation.

Beyond individualism. Holiness, wholeness, and formation are not just about individuals or something that can be achieved by isolated individuals. Rather, they all have communal dimensions. A Trinitarian perspective embraces the dialectic of relatedness and distinction. Christians need "to navigate between the extremes of living the narrative of "humans as autonomous, rugged individuals" and humans as "little more than social constructs."" (page 146). This resonates with John Wesley who said “The gospel of Christ knows of no religion but social; no holiness but social holiness”.

Embodiment. The Christian life is not just "spiritual". Holiness "has an important visible, bodily dimension" highlighted in the Incarnation: God dwelt in a human body. We worship and serve God with head, hearts, and hands.

Hospitality. This is highlighted as "a marker of holiness and wholeness" (pages 47-51).  "Hospitality is at the heart of the Christian life." Hospitality is not about entertainment, luxury, or fancy food and wine. It is a disposition that creates space for the other, particularly those who society keeps on the margins.

Later, I hope to discuss a few weaknesses of the book.

Living out the Gospel while immersed in a neighbourhood in a secular city

Last week at the theology reading group we discussed Forming Christian Communities in a Secular Age: Recovering Humility and Hope by Tim Dickau.

Three narratives are inter-weaved throughout the book: the personal, the congregational, and the socio-structural. Dickau describes his recent recovery from burnout and alcohol abuse after three decades as pastor of Grandview Church in Vancouver, Canada. During this time the church moved from a declining "commuter" church to a vibrant and creative community that was engaged with and in solidarity with its local neighbourhood. This led to significant relationships with marginalised neighbours, including the homeless, refugees, and the poor. In collaboration with local community organisations, the church birthed several social enterprises, including converting the church parking lot into a low-income housing project. 

The more theoretical dimension of the book is the analysis of the social secular character of large cities in the Western world. Here there is substantial engagement with the philosopher Charles Taylor and his books, This Secular Age (2007) and Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989). Dickau also engages with the theologians William Cavanaugh and Willie James Jennings.

With regard to secularism, it is important to be clear on terminology. Taylor considers three distinct forms of secularism, focusing on the third form.

Moreover, both belief and non-belief have become optional, contested, and pressured so that believers and non-believers alike are “fragilized,” where expressions of both belief and unbelief are regularly challenged and therefore not as

certain (20–27). In this new age, we all live with “cross-pressures”

(15), where any believer, atheist, or anything in-between will be challenged by sensible people who think differently

Taylor defines the social imaginary as “. . . the way ordinary people imagine their social surroundings, and this is often not expressed in theoretical terms, it is carried in images, stories, and legends.” (172).

The social imaginary for this secular age is an immanent frame that by assumption precludes any role for transcendence. Dickau helpfully calls this "functional atheism," suggesting that today many clergy and church members operate within a framework where everything is framed, even if subconsciously, in terms of human action. This is reflected in church "business" meetings, strategic plans, policies and procedures that are strikingly similar to those of modern business corporations. 

I greatly appreciate this book. Dickau embodies honesty and humility. It is written by someone who has spent decades in the trenches and does not shy away from the complexity and messiness of life, ministry, mission, community, politics, and relationships. Dickau is able to weave the three narratives (personal, communal, socio-structural) together with some synergy, as each one increases the credibility of the others.

I found three ideas in the book personally challenging. The greatest challenge was realising the extent that which I operate in an immanent frame. Too often I am a functional atheist.

The discussions about racism draw on the writing of Willie Jennings and Grandview's engagement with First Nations people issues locally and nationally. I need to wrestle with this issue more.

Dickau advocates a commitment to place, i.e., a local neighbourhood. This stability is counter-cultural and necessary for lasting change. Will I make such a commitment? My wife and I are aiming for that through our involvement with Village Mosaix, as part of Village Church in Brisbane.

Here are some specific things that I appreciate about the book.

a. Dickau's honesty and vulnerability could be a wake-up call for many church leaders. Many tend to "workaholism" and some congregations enable this. These issues resonate with those identified by Pete Scazzero in Emotionally Healthy Church. 

b. The descriptions of Grandview activities provide concrete models that may inspire other churches to emulate, provided there is sufficient adaptation to local context. Dickau stresses this latter point. I was inspired by the account of how the activities of Kinbrace in refugee advocacy did not just help some in the local neighbourhood but eventually led to changes in Canadian government policies and procedures.

c. Seeking the welfare of the city. Seek the common good. Dickau is inspired by Jeremiah 29. This goes against the natural tendency of churches to be like most human institutions and to be parochial and inward-looking. [Although I agree with the conclusion, I would like to see this concern with the common good, justified by some New Testament passages.]

d. Practical care for the marginalised.

e. Grandview fosters creativity. This is done by tapping into the energy, gifts, experience, and passions of the laity.

f. Respect for tradition without slavery to it. Grandview is a Baptist church, but was once characterised as "Bapto-Catholic". It does not appear to be constrained by narrow denominationalism.

g. Beyond an individualistic Gospel and mission. Confession, repentance, and action need to be at the individual, corporate (congregational), and systemic levels. This is integral mission. I appreciate this for two reasons. Foremost, this is how mission is presented in the Bible, from ancient Israel to the early church, as nicely documented by Chris Wright. Second, as a scientist who studies emergence in complex systems, I often argue that issues, whether mental health or poverty alleviation, must be addressed at multiple levels, from the individual to the societal.

Although there is much to admire about the book, here are a few reservations.

Is the book too Taylor-centric?

I am no expert on Taylor, having only read the potted version, How (not) to be secular by James K.A. Smith. I greatly admire Taylor, particularly because as a distinguished academic, A Secular Age, has created waves in the academy, particularly in the humanities and social sciences. Nevertheless, I have many questions and concerns about Taylor and the amount of authority he is given. Taylor is a philosopher, not a historian or a social scientist. I wonder whether the historical narrative is really as simple as he presents. Similarly, I wonder if secularisation is actually thicker, more complex, and diverse than Taylor presents, particularly when one considers multi-cultural neighbourhoods. As a Catholic, does Taylor lay too much "blame" on the Reformation for fostering secularism and destroying enchantment? 

Is Taylor wistful for a former age, such as Christendom? Does his work foment the desires of those who pine for an earlier age that actually may never have existed? Does it feed the fantasies of those who want to "Make America Great Again"?

Arguably, secularisation, in some of its forms, is not always bad. Sometimes maybe it is the best, albeit imperfect, solution to a complex problem for democracies in pluralistic societies. It has kept at bay religious wars, theocracies, and kept pseudo-sciences such as young-earth creationism and Vedic "science" out of public school systems.

Given these concerns is Taylor really essential to the arguments of the book? Could we get to the same point as Dickau, with regard to missiology and ecclesiology, by just going back to the radical teachings of Jesus and the radical lifestyle of the early church? In some ways, Dickau does head in this direction when he discusses the potential of the "new monasticism" movement.

A problematic identification of "the powers of this dark world"?

Two thousand years of church history might suggest that Christians are not good at cultural analysis, particularly with regard to identifying what elements of their current culture is a result of the work of God's Spirit, or of Satan, or of human rebellion, or the "spiritual forces of evil." Perhaps indicative of the lack of nuance is the three options presented by Reinhold Niebuhr in his highly influential Christ and Culture: Christ in Culture, Christ against Culture, and Christ above Culture.

Dickau identifies the following "powers of our secular age": individualism, consumerism, economic globalisation, racism, inequality, and the human-induced climate crisis.

I agree that all of these are important issues. I am very concerned about each and all can embody evil. But, I am nervous about having a completely negative characterisation of the first three "powers." Subtlety is needed. For example, consider globalisation. I agree that globalisation has had many negative consequences. But, one can argue that it has lifted hundreds of millions of people, especially in India and China, out of poverty. I do lament the corrosive effect of individualism on the West. However, it's opposite, communitarianism can also have negative effects. Consider a young Asian woman is living in the West. She may be positive about the individual freedom she has to change her religion, choose her spouse, and employment.

The Bible presents an ambivalent picture of money, sex, power, authority, freedom, knowledge, speech, and emotions. They are neither intrinsically good nor evil. Thus, it is reasonable to be ambivalent about culture and institutions, whether in science, technology, government, education, military, or business. Each can be a good gift from God that can be used to bless others. Each can also be distorted and twisted by sin (individual, corporate, and structural). They can then be used as instruments of violence, oppression, slavery, and idolatry.

Charles Ringma pointed out to our group that Karl Barth was ambivalent about the nation-state. Perhaps this is surprising because Barth experienced the nation-state in the evil form of Nazi Germany.

There is an essay "Karl Barth’s theological politics", by David Haddorf, that was published as a new introduction to Community, State and Church: Three Essays, by Karl Barth. Haddorf states.

Barth develops a political perspective based entirely upon God’s action in and through the revelation of the Word of God. His commitment to the word of God led him to be a dialectical thinker moving between absolute Yes and No, between absolute positive or negative views of the state, between absolute Christian claims of the legitimacy of the state and anarchial denial of legitimacy, between Marxist socialism and free-market capitalism, and between right-wing nationalism and left- wing revolutionary politics.

Similarly, I embrace a good-bad dialectic with regard to much that our complex world presents. Holding the concepts of Creation and Fall together presents a paradox. They must be held in tension. On the one hand, the created world is good. On the other hand, it is corrupted and “groans for redemption.” (Romans 8:19-22). This is a world of sin, death, disease, natural disasters, and of altruism. Common grace is everywhere. On the one hand, humans bear the image of God, including innate rationality, relationality, morality, and spirituality. On the other hand, this image has been marred by sin. Paul’s personal moral struggles (Romans 7:23) also reflect the human paradox. It requires great wisdom and discernment to correctly identify any specific human activity as a power aligned with the forces of darkness.

Unfortunately, hard copies of the book are only available in Canada. I do hope this will change soon as the book deserves a global readership. Electronic (Kindle) copies can be bought on Amazon.

To complement reading the book I recommend an interview with Dickau in a recent podcast episode.

Truth-telling, faith, and science

This week I had the opportunity to speak (virtually) at the Asian Theological Seminary (ATS) Theological Forum as part of a series on Faith and Truth-Telling in the Public Square.

My slides are here.

You can watch the video on Facebook.