Monthly Archives: June 2011

Words about words – C J Dennis

I’m hooked when people write (or speak) about words.

Here’s an example form a favourite poem. Hint: read it out loud, and try for a broad Australian accent.

Wot’s in a name? Wot’s in a string o’ words?
They scraps in ole Verona wiv the’r swords,
An’ never give a bloke a stray dog’s chance,
An’ that’s Romance.
But when they deals it out wiv bricks an’ boots
In Little Lon., they’re low, degraded broots.

Wot’s jist plain stoush wiv us, right ‘ere to-day,
Is “valler” if yer fur enough away.
Some time, some writer bloke will do the trick
Wiv Ginger Mick,
Uv Spadger’s Lane. ‘E’ll be a Romeo,
When ‘e’s bin dead five ‘undred years or so.

The Play is the account of the Sentimental Bloke at the theatre with the love of his life, Doreen. It’s Romeo and Juliet, and the Bloke sees himself in the drama. Like Romeo, the Bloke is head over heels. Also like Romeo, and for sake of his lady, the Bloke has sworn off his history of street brawling (in inner-city Melbourne – name check for Little Lonsdale Street).

So why is the Bloke’s mate Ginger Mick not counted as a man of valour? The same activity – street brawling – in described in different words. C J Dennis skilfully raises a whole host of cultural and political issues with his simple question: Wot’s in a string o’ words?

Perhaps the ‘low degraded brutes’ of poorer Melbourne we called this because it was easier than understanding their problems, or finding out what social conditions were feeding the fighting. Maybe ‘valour’ is a self-serving way to gloss over the violence that exists even among the ‘better sort of people.’

Who knows what Dennis had in mind? His funny poem, though, does at least make us think about how we describe things.

 

Quotation source: The Complete Sentimental Bloke (ed. Neil James, A&R Classics)

Same-sex marriage is not about same-sex marriage

I’ve lifted the following quotation from an article in The Australian

In the Anglo-American world [including Australia], gay marriage has become one of those causes through which the cosmopolitan cultural elites define themselves and construct a moral contrast between themselves and ordinary folk. What’s really important for them is the sense of superiority experienced through the conviction that “we” are not like them. In this way, a clear moral distinction is drawn between the forward-looking attitudes of an enlightened, courageous minority and the backward-looking prejudices of a homophobic majority.

It’s an obvious point. The cause is about self-definition (‘I am …’) and moral contrast (‘… on the side of good’). We all want to say, ‘I am on the side of good.’ Fair enough, but I have a concern with using this cause as the test.

The reason: ‘the cause’ has become a tool more important than real people, gay or not.

To make another obvious point, sexual identity is a very sensitive thing. Moral and political contrasts in the past were on such matters as free trade versus tariffs, or whether responsibility lies more on the individual or the state.

To throw sexuality into the centre of this kind of debate … It’s going to get messy and hurt people. Yet, for that very reason, it’s important to engage.

So a real question is this: how can we engage the discussion, while striving with all integrity to help people not hurt them?

From freedom to compulsion

When change happens, or is suggested, someone will always be excluded. It’s inevitable. There’s no way to make a significant change – or reject a significant change – without exclusion and compulsion.

In my past, I’ve been in Anglican churches. I became a Christian in an Anglican church, and served on the ministry staff at some too. So I am aware of all the debate around ordination of women to be able to lead a parish.

A common argument for ordination goes like this:

We in favour of ordination are not going to impose our views on you. You can continue to disagree and be part of male-led churches.
But you who are against ordination are imposing on us. Be fair, and give everyone room. There’s ample room for disagreement.

It’s rubbish.

If and when the change is made, it’s a complete change. In practice, it takes time to work through, but it’s still a complete change. (Because of this time lag, there’s the possibility of a reversal of the decision. But that’s another post.)

A great example of this is a report of controversy in Canberra-Goulburn Diocese (Bishop Rejects Claim of Hardline Attitude).

The controversy is that ministers moving from Sydney Diocese (no women leading parishes) to Canberra-Goulburn (which permits women leading parishes) are undermining Canberra-Goulburn’s practice.

It’s a poor article: untrue about the Diocese of Sydney, resorting to caricature, and not one aggrieved Canberran is actually named or quoted. Yet what it does include gives the lie to the above argument. It shows that there is, in Canberra-Goulburn, no room for both views. There’s no room for disagreement.

A couple of quotations make my point.

Firstly, from the bishop, Stuart Robinson:

On my election I said I would require verbal assurances from any new clergy appointment to this diocese that they will support the ordained ministry of women. All clergy I have appointed have given me this assurance and I remain committed to this policy.

It’s now a requirement to agree with the policy.

Then there’s the word of a rector (senior minister in a parish) who is also liaison officer for the bishop, Gillian Varcoe:

She said that under the diocese’s code of practice, anyone who undermined female ordination could have disciplinary action taken against them.

If you disagree, you’re open to discipline.

We see that pro- and anti- ordination groups are equally exclusive.

Why is this important? To show we can generally ignore the argument that says you need to be more inclusive. Inclusion is an end point, a blessed fruit. It is not a starting point. The starting point can only ever be what is the right thing to do.

Group prayer

“I’m encouraged!”

It’s our church mission prayer month (June 2011). After prayer meetings I say to myself, “I’m encouraged!”

It’s always wonderful to pray with fellow Christians. It could be when someone leads up front at church, in small groups at the end of Bible study, with the family around the dinner table, even one-to-one after sharing sad news. It’s always a joy to call on God in faith.

And there are things to remember to help us in group prayer. There are matters of being in a group that effect the dynamic. I think the following tips will help any Christian make the most of group prayer. I have made every one of these mistakes, and will continue to do so. In other words, they’re mainly tips to myself.

  • We, not I
    Jesus taught the disciples to pray Our Father, rather than My Father. I think group prayer is most inclusive when the one speaking uses we pray more than I pray
  • Who are you talking to?
    Use the address to God to mean something. Address him as Father, or Saviour, or Lord of all, or Creator. They’re more than mere labels, but speak of God’s character. These titles directly lead to prayer points (for instance, God’s Fatherhood leads to prayer for his children gathered in church)
  • Try to make sense
    Prayers are sometimes confused. It doesn’t stop God hearing and answering! But it can confuse me as a listener, and distract me from joining in with a hearty Amen. When you say, ‘Dear Father, we thank you for your death on the cross to give us life …’ my mind will immediately depart the room of prayer. I’m thinking, ‘I’m sure it was the Son who died …’
  • Know your habits
    We all have verbal habits. Mostly, that’s OK. Yet, in prayer, some habits add nothing but distraction. I want to follow your prayer lead, but some of these thrown me off the scent
    ~ ‘We wanna pray this, & we wanna pray that, …
    Just go ahead and pray it then! Ask God, don’t tell him you’re considering asking
    ~  ‘We do pray … We do ask …
    I know we do. ‘Do’ in a sentence can emphasise a point (likewise with really). My difficulty is when it’s in every sentence. Use sparingly
    ~ Ending every pause with ‘… yeah’
    This is irritating. Oddly, ‘yeah’ is usually twice as loud as the rest of the words. ‘We pray for … YEAH Fred’s work problems.‘ If you pause to think, or to slow things down, great. End the pause with a real word and something to say
    ~ ‘We just pray for Freda to move from death to life
    Christians are justified, love justice, and feel strangely compelled to say ‘just’ in prayers. ‘Just’ might work, if praying for one thing – say your point, then Amen. Usually, there are many things we just ask for.  ‘Just’ is thrown in so we don’t sound greedy. But wait a minute, we’re asking the God of the universe to open blind eyes and call the dead to live in Christ! There’s nothing ‘just’ (on ‘only’) about that

Why work on praying better in public? It doesn’t impress God and thus force him to answer. But it loves me, through assisting me to participate in prayer with you. And I do wanna pray with you … YEAH!

Any other helpful advice?

 


 

Abortion & disagreement

I read The Book of Books. The radical impact of the King James Bible 1611-2011. It’s worth a read, though it has its problems.

One amazing statement, though, makes me wonder how disagreements are addressed. It’s about abortion.

Rightly enough, abortion is a very sensitive issue. All the personal dynamics are powerful for any man or woman involved. And then there are the myriad ethical matters (sexual ethics, personal and community responsibility, the care of the weak, legislating in areas of disagreement, etc).

Yet I thought it extraordinary to read these words from the author, Melvyn Bragg:

Neither abortion nor contraception carry stigma any more except in a few remaining repressive boltholes.
(Page 304)

He could not write ‘no stigma at all’ – it would be too obvious a lie. So, instead, those who disagree with Bragg’s ethics are allocated to the pit of repression.

The strength of this dismissal makes me wonder what’s going on. That’s what I would ask Bragg, if I was in any kind of pastoral relationship with him. Especially so since, in this very book, Braggrepeatedly shows understanding for people whose views he disagrees with radically.

One again I’m terribly saddened by this. It dismisses, without thought, thousands of attacks on the weak and defenceless. It also marginalises adult men and women who’d like to face up to their own suffering – even wrong-doing – in treating the unborn. All it says is, ‘If you have a problem, it’s your problem. Forget it, and don’t talk to me.’

That’s not what I want to say! That’s not loving!

What are your thoughts? What’s a better way to have the conversation on this difficult topic?

Hume freeway construction

There’s a freeway through Albury!

That’s old news. But it’s a good road. Especially, I’m sure, for the 4000+ truckies who go through everyday on the road between Melbourne an Sydney.

I have an affection for the road. Not only is it good, but it helped us buy a house. With construction close to commencement, there was not one competing offer on the house we live in. If there was, we would have been out-offered.

While building went on, we took some photos. Attempting roughly the same shot about once per month, still photos were taken from September 2005 to January 2007. I’ve put them into a morph video.

 

Attacking belief – atheism

When I wrote about Islam, I wrote as a confessed outsider. The same is true here, for I am no atheist. Still, I am able to observe where people disagree with atheism, especially the so-called new atheism. And I think the attacks reveal something of the beliefs of those who speak up on behalf of no god.

In other words, attacks on atheism also fit the pattern I have been pushing: that attacks for any belief will – imperfectly – match the message of that belief.

The criticisms of atheism are primarily two:

  • The manner and tone of their ex cathedra* pronouncements are excessively caustic, superior and vitriolic
  • Their arguments are amazingly ignorant and dismissive of the intellectual territory into which they have stumbled

Is the tone so very important? Not directly. My guess is that the tone issues directly from the (false) confidence and ignorance which is the second accusation. Since I think the tone is secondary, I also think it not worth much comment here.

Wilful ignorance, on the other hand, is definitely worth consideration. Personally, this is one of my earliest memories of engaging with atheism. As a young Christian, I read Bertrand Russell’s famous collection of essays, Why I Am Not A Christian. I still remember my reaction to his explanation, ‘Because it seems you don’t understand God, Jesus, sin, or the gospel.’

The criticism of ignorance is, of course, a generalisation. It truly applies only to some evangelists of atheism. Despite this, it’s a comment that sticks to the whole movement. I think this disturbs some within the atheist camp. For example, this is from Melvyn Bragg, on Dawkins:

It is clear that he has not studied the Bible’s effect on slavery. As a scientist he would never allow himself to be so remiss in such a comparably crucial area. So why here? It is embarrassing and raises questions about the authority and trustworthiness of other points he makes. All those other sweeping dismissals – what hard evidence does he have? How carefully is it weighed?
The Book of Books, page 206.

I can re-phrase Bragg’s question in light of my theme (that attack matches message), ‘What part of the atheist message leads to intentional ignoring other points of view?’

The answer is that many hard-line atheists are proponents of nothing-buttery.

Nothing buttery: the idea that nothing but scientific method gives truth. There is truth, but its only access point is experiment, theory, equations, and publication in a peer-reviewed scientific journal. If it cannot be known by science – at least in theory – then it cannot be known.

This is an amazing claim – and I think it entirely false – but since it is fundamental for many atheists, I can only applaud their success in announcing it and living by it.

My suggestion is that this provides a way ahead in conversation. It’s a bit of a dead-end to shout at each other (‘You are ignorant and arrogant!’). So, if there’s evidence of this ignorance, try to turn the conversation to what we can know, and how we can know it. Is science true? Is science the only truth? What options are there? How can we find criteria to decide?

 

* A most fitting Latin phrase, in this case. Bishops, by tradition, are installed on a seat. When they pronounce, they do so from the chair: ex cathedra. The most famous of the new atheists, Richard Dawkins, is said to have had a chair created especially for him. It’s the Charles Simonyi Chair for the Public Understanding of Science.

Attacking belief – Islam

I wrote earlier on Attacking Belief (and even earlier). This post is different, because it’s from the outside.

When I write on Christianity under attack, I write as a Christian, an insider. But writing on attacks upon Islam, I am an observer.

In fact, I’m a double observer. Initially, because I am not Muslim. Secondly, because I am trying to view the attacks impartially. That is, I’m not going to present disagreements that I believe to be correct. I am going to note the attack that I think is common, or widespread. ‘How do people in my part of the world talk of Islam?’, even if I think such comment is way wrong.

Just quickly, though, a reminder: I think that attacks for any belief will – imperfectly – match the message of that belief.

What do people say about Islam? What’s the attack?

That Islam is a bit scary, sometimes ugly, and trying to change us. That Islam wants to muscle in on our culture. Perhaps it’s by introducing Sharia law (maybe even a stealth attack on our legal system). Perhaps it’s by silencing criticism and debate.

Then there’s the J word – Jihad. Struggle, warfare, whatever … it’s an attempt to overthrow.

This is the perception. As also understood by Muslims. This is Khaled Abou El Fadl:

Over the past decade in particular, Muslim societies have been plagued by many events that have struck the world as offensive and even shocking. This has reached the extent that, from Europe and the United States to Japan, China and Russia, one finds that Islamic culture has become associated with harshness and cruelty in the popular imagination of people from various nations around the world.
Source

I emphasise, perception.

So, how does this perception match the reality? What truth has been picked up in this attack? I think it is that the culture of Islam is part of the message of Islam.

Unlike Christianity, I believe, Islam does offer a culture as an essential part of being an adherent. Some reasons, as far as I understand Islam:

  • Arabic is the true language for divine revelation
    Though not against translation, the real Quran is not in English. Christians, on the other hand, value the original languages but are open to having translations in the hands of every person
  • Islamic practice has clear markers
    Halal food is religious and cultural. Christians have no universally-agreed food laws. Muslim set prayers towards Mecca are well-known. The closest Christian equivalent would be saying the Lord’s Prayer: but that’s not very close at all – no set time, no set language, not even a law to say it
  • Islamic jurisprudence
    Is there such a term as ‘Christian jurisprudence’? I don’t mention Sharia to stir controversy, but its existence does show a tight conceptual link between ‘Muslims’ and ‘the Muslim state’

To say Islam links culture/practice with its message is not to offer a criticism. It is merely an observation. It’s an observation of a difference between Islam and other beliefs. I think it’s also an observation that makes some sense of the ways Islam is criticised in Australia.

Perhaps knowing this will help us better understand Muslim neighbours, and better talk to them with mutual understanding.