my contemplations

You know what must be one of the worst things in life to do? Re-typing something! I absolutely hate re-typing! I don’t mind writing, I do that a lot, and actually like doing it. But when I loose something and have to re-do it, that’s really bad. Although usually it ends up being written better. Well, I lost this post. Saves it on a flashdisk, and I think I didn’t stop the flasdisk the last time I used it. First time I loose data this way.

So, Scot McKnight from jesuscreed.org is visiting South Africa. Attie Nel from Attie se Koffietafel got him over for Pentacost. We have a tradition in the Dutch Reformed Church to celebrate Pentacost with a series of church services over throughout the week, Mcknight is leading these in Attie’s congregation, and Attie dis the rest of us the favour of arranging a whole program full of other speaking arrangements for McKnight.

Yesterday morning I attended a lecture McKnight gave on the New Perspective on Paul. Actually it was presented to the fourth year New Testament class, Stephan Joubert’s, from e-kerk, class, but it was opened up so that the rest of us can also attend. There wasn’t a lot of visitors however, but I found it interesting to see how bloggers got together. Attie en McKnight got together, both bloggers. I visited, because of blogging. And Tom Smith also came to visit, although we didn’t talk about it, I guess also thanx to blogging.

I found out that McKnight disagree with the New Perspective, and the things flowing from it. Also with NT Wright’s idea that Paul was writing against a Roman political system, an idea very influencial in the later works of Brian Mclaren (Secret Message of Jesus and Everything Must Change). I also found it interesting that McKnight was introduced as a leader in the emerging church, this while I can swear I read McKnight himself writing that he write about the emerging church from the outside. However, I think this he does very good, do read his article on What is the Emerging Church? if you haven’t doen that yet.

Then later I had the oppurtunity to have lunch with McKnight and some other pastors from our denomination. We had some interesting conversations on the theological influences on South Africa. Someone at one stage summarized it like this: We are Dutch people, watching American television, reading German theology and talking an obscure language which no one understand. Interesting that British theology never really had a big influence on South Africa.

I’ve been intrigued by the Web 2.0 developments for more than 18 months now, trying to understand it, trying to follow the developments, and trying to see the implications. Most of this has been in blogging, and more and more I realize that I simply do not seem to have time keep up to date with everything happening and changing.

Although I’ve been a huge wikipedia fan, as you will find out if you follow the links I use to, for example, movies, I think I’ve only made one contribution ever, and that was the birth date of Anne Clayborn on the Mars Trilogy page, if I remember correctly. Recently, however, I’ve been introduced to wikispaces by someone in the congregation. We started generating the content for our new church website on wikispaces, and then I set up another wikispace for an alternative camp we are attempting in July.

But my current idea is to actually produce my whole mini-dissertation which need to be written in the next few months on a wikispace. It will be on something like: David Bosch as Public Theologian: the public role of the church in the theology of David Bosch. As I proceed I’ll publish parts I’ve written, and thoughts I have, there, which would provide the opportunity for anyone interested to fine-tune my thoughts through questions, alternative formulations, thoughts I haven’t had yet etc. Obviously in the end I’ll have to publish a final version for which only I can take responsibility, but by then I’ll have the advantage that many people have sharpened my thoughts.

So, if you have interest in the topic, or interest in the idea of producing the dissertation like this, or interest in David Bosch, do follow the wikispace here, you can also sign up for the RSS feed.

What do you think? How would copyright laws and plagiarism rules and everything apply to this? Is this possible? Can I legally do this within a university system? Would anyone even think of actually taking part in the conversation around an others Masters dissertation?

Ever since I started blogging, and even before that, I’ve tried steering as clear as possible from the term “postmodern” (or post-modern). It’s a minefield when you go out there. When I use the word I try keeping to a very general definition. I found Fritjof Capra’s A Web of Life to be one of the best definitions, although he doesn’t ever give a definition, but simply describe changes in science over the past couple of decades.

But sometimes, in ground-level conversations, we tend to be more prescriptive about postmodernism than descriptive. What I mean is that we spend more time telling people how they should think when postmodern than listening to how they think now that they are part of a postmodern generation. This typically comes out when people state, explicitly or implicitly, that postmodern is necessarily “good” and modern “bad”, and that on top of that, postmodern is what “I am”, and modern what those I differ with are.

We then hear things like all truth is relative (something which I think I agree with, wrote about it here), or that we should make room for different opinions (another thing I’m very fond of), and then try to force this into our own lives in unnatural ways. Two examples:

• I joined a discussion a few days ago, and took some friends along. In the car on the way back, I started asking about their experiences (another thing I like to do at times), and onssaid that the problems with the discussions is that there isn’t really discussion going on. Everyone would just say what they think, and even differ, and then leave it to that.
• I am currently attending a “seminar” by Roger Greenaway, an expert on reviewing. I’ve been using his model and some of his tools for reviewing for nearly three years now, and can tell amazing stories about how this has helped me. But currently I’m not that impressed with the experience I’m having. I’m not sure if it’s his fault, or the group’s, but somehow the conversation tend to get into the “let’s just get every opinion on the table and let it be”, or the “let’s get something nice to say about everyone, whether they deserve it or not” category the whole time.

This seem to be very nice, and very “postmodern”, but I think we are missing the point here. We could, for example, gain a lot from Roger’s work when using a word like “holistic” to describe postmodernism; Roger could then help us to not only listen to the logical argument going on, but also to the experiences people are having, which would help us get a more holistic view of what happened, or what is happening. Or what if we rather used a word like “relational”: I’ve written some time ago:

Truth is also relational, in relation with each other, in conversation with each other, seeing each others opinions, looking through each others lenses (as far as that might be possible), we arrive at answers.

When in conversation, differing is OK! Even arguing is OK. What’s not OK is saying that my way and my way alone may be correct. What’s not OK is saying that the logical argument I’m using must be correct because it’s logical. The physical sciences have shown over and over again that what seemed logical at one stage change when new information, or perspectives, get put on the table. So if differing, or even arguing, can help you to see things through the others eyes, through the eyes of another gender, generation, race, culture, or whatever else there might be, then maybe we need the differing, maybe we need to point out to people if there is a difference in how we see things. Not necessarily to be able to win the case, but rather to continue our search for truth and meaning relationally, rather then individually, or by only listening to certain “power” figures (whether intellectual, political, religious, or whatever might be found).

Do sharpen my thoughts on this if I’m missing the point myself…

There is so much I would want to write about, my visit with Tom yesterday and my dissertation topic which finally seem be getting finalized (and which I’m very excited about) being on the immediate list. But I promised that I’d blog on this topic about a week ago, so I’ll keep my promise first.

Probably nearly no one has actually followed my conversation with Deborah, but if you’ve read what I’ve written in the last synchroblog, I can now gladly add that we might just actually be on our way to finding a peaceful conversation, which would be great. But first, my promise to blog on this was made to Deborah. At one stage, when the conversation was quite heated, she made the following remark:

I have a question – maybe two. If you are still searching for God, for the Lord, what are you doing in a leadership role in your church? Perhaps I was mistaken, but from your posts, it sounds like you work as a leader in a church. How can you lead others to Christ, if you don’t really know Him?

This was in response to the following comment I made:

Maybe because I hope that one more person can believe that I, and many others like me, are seriously searching for God, attempting to live in the way of Jesus…

I guess a few remarks would suffice for now:

It’s interesting how many people have the idea that spiritual leaders are those who have “made it” in the spiritual realm. Who have “found God” (isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, that God should find me?).

It’s even more interesting how the idea that we could actually stop searching for God is so popular, especially if I’m the one doing the searching (I guess if God is finding me, then I could say the process ends at some point). But OK, now I’m playing around with metaphysical junk, which is not really what I like to do, so let’s move on.

What will happen if a spiritual leader say that (s)he is searching for God? I guess some would like to re-enact crusifixion, and others would like to kiss the leader. Some want to hear that the leader has it all sorted out, others want to know that the leader goes through the same struggles they do (and there are some whoa re even OK if the leader go through more struggles than they do).

This said, I guess we would need to rethink the role of spiritual leaders. If they are not those with everything sorted out, what can make them the leader? Can there be leaders? I think one way might be saying that the spiritual leader is the theologian, helping people in their thoughts about God. The theologian can do this by pointing to more than personal experience, the long tradition of the church in all it’s colors can also come into play, even if the leader consider himself to be a searcher. But maybe this only focus on one dimension of spiritual leadership.

Or maybe it’s all about relationship. In relationship I can follow spiritual leaders even if they consider themselves as people “searching for God”, the less I know someone, I think the more I would want to know that they “have it made” spiritually, even if I don’t believe it if anyone say that they have “made it” spiritually.

Any thoughts? Would you be comfortable if those you consider to be your spiritual mentors tell you they are searching for God?

As the call to papers for the synchroblog about “Emerging heresy” came out, I was having a conversation with Deborah on my Beowulf post. Early on in the conversation Deborah said:

Be wary of the Emerging Christian doctrine that you mentioned in your post. It’s as false as the liberal propaganda that comes out of Hollywood. I would advise always, always to measure what you read or view in this world against the pure doctrine of God’s holy word.

I still haven’t found exactly what she has refered to, but maybe it was another post, since I didn’t refer to anything “emerging” in the post. The conversation went on for pages and pages, and I guess I knew from the start that the chances was very unlikely that we would find some common ground, but as I explained previously, I still consider fundamentalism as an ecumenical challenge, so I continued the conversation. May I just mention that Deborah do not consider herself to be a fundamentalist, her reaction to my mention of the word was:

Now, let’s get to the bias you think me to have. Am I evangelical? No. Am I a fundamentalist? No. Now, again, that could depend upon your definitions, but according to my definitions, the answer is “No.” As far as being a fundamentalist, I think of Islamic terrorists as fundamentalists. So, no, I’m not a fundamentalist. Evangelical? In what sense? Do I go out and evangelize? No. Do I believe in preaching the Gospel? Yes, for that was Christ’s Great Commission (Mar 15:16). But that makes me doctrinal, not evangelical.

I don’t think the conversation was a success, maybe I should even be ashamed of the things I’ve said. But I do have some thoughts on how conversations may continue. I’ve had some friends who are very comfortable with the evangelicals, and we had loads of very constructive conversations, and others that we couldn’t even get through a cup of coffee. So, if you have some emerging friends you think might be heretics (whatever that may mean, give your interpretation to this word), but still want to be “conversing with the heretics”, here are my thoughts:

• If your heretic friend consider him/herself to be a Christians, try to consider them as Christians
• Remember that both of you have biases, and that you can maybe help each other notice them
• Try focusing on social justice, you might find you both want to help the poor and suffering, although you differ on some theological stuff
• Remember that you may be wrong, both of you, remember that just maybe you are wrong! I guess this is the most difficult part. I’ve written some more on this here.

Just one of these can sometimes provide an entry point for some good conversations, without the need to give up dearly held beliefs. Oh, and by the way, don’t ever mention that you have a direct link with God which mean that you are definitely right, no matter what anyone says. This tends to kill a conversation, because you can’t really fight with God.

Well, maybe I’m too demanding. But I am serious to keep the conversation going. If you think I should back down on some points, tell me, if you think I should add some, also leave a comment. And maybe you have some things which you think your heretic friends should also keep in mind when the attempt at conversation is made, please make a mention of those as well.

Well, you can read the conversation between myself and Deborah here, and you’re welcome to give some pointers where you think the conversation could have been done better (especially if I should have done thing differently). But I must say, it’s gonna be a loooong read if you do read this.

Well, that’s my thoughts for the day, also read these other fine sychrobloggers!

Aratus - The Gender of the Creator and Face forward
Cobusvw - Conversing with the heretics
Liquid Light - Coming out a heretic emerges
Nic Paton - The Lif Cycle of Heresy and The Blessings of Heresy
Roger Saner Towards a heretical orthodoxy
Ryan Peters - title not cited yet
Steve Hayes no title cited yet
Tim Victor - Confessions of a heretic

On my “to-read” list I have Tom Sine’s The New Conspirators. Haven’t heard about the book before 5 minutes ago, and the name Tom Sine has no meaning whatsoever. What immediately convinced me to read the book was the BLURP found on Andrew Jones’ blog:

God is doing something fresh through a new generation of “conspirators”. This new work can be seen in at least four different streams:
1. the emerging,
2. the missional,
3. the mosaic (multicultural church plants)
4. the monastic.
In this book Tom Sine present some of the innovative new models that are being created by those ministering within these diverse streams.

Talking of differing streams seem interesting. I’ve been uncomfortable with the equating of emerging with missional or monastic for quite some time. I’ve seen the renewed interest in missional churches in places which won’t easily fit the emerging conversation, which got me into the difficult question, is the missional church then the emerging church? Thus I would have to call people emerging that won’t like to be called emerging? Don’t know if anyone can follow that paragraph, but that was my thoughts.

You can find a review on the book here as well.

Most of my city friends will see my hometown, Piet Retief, as a small town. They think it small that I grew up in a town with basically one primary school, and one highschool (of course, this is a lot more complex because of the Apartheid destinction between the town and the township). Usually I see this as small myself, after 6 years in Pretoria.

But for the first 10 years of my live I grew up in an area which was really rural, in the town Nhlangano in the southers part of Swaziland. And the percentage of Afrikaner people in around the area is especially small. On Sunday I had the opportunity to preach in the small church in which I grew up. 14 people attended (excluding my family). No, not because they heard who was preaching, this is hoe attendance generally look. We stand outside and talk up to about 9:00, and then someone would say that they think everyone who is coming is here, and we will go in.

The debate is not between organ and band, since they use no instruments, I had to start singing, and then the rest will follow, but I must say this: these people really sing! The service was short, since we only sang two songs, I didn’t so a full liturgy, and I generally preach short. Afterwards they have coffee and tea, with LOTS of cake and stuff.

I must add this. The 14 people attending have all been members of the congregation when we moved away 14 years ago, except for the new kids that was born and the those that got marries into the community, one or two woman, but I just met the one. No one gets allowed into the community, you have to be born or married into the community to be a part.

Parts of what I’ve seen looks very romantic: the informal setting, everyone knowing everyone else, everyone staying behind for tea even though there is no Sunday school keeping them there. Parts of this would probably be part of how some people would see the ideal church, sometimes I would include myself with these “some people”. The little church is also a warning. Because they are so part of each other, that they don’t make room for those on the outside, that they don’t welcome the stranger. This is also a warning for the emerging conversation (see this comment on a previous post on someone’s experience of Solomon’s Porch).