I would like to take this opportunity to recommend a book to you. It's called Utopian Dreams and it's by Tobias Jones.
Jones is an Oxford-educated journalist who lives in Parma, and his book is about his experience spending a year travelling and visiting five different communities. It's a book about community, and whether or not anything founded on Idealism can be of value.
What makes this book of interest to me is the direction that Jones takes it. Firstly, he admits that his interest in communities and idealism is driven by his dissatisfaction with the bankrupt existence of postmodernity. As he puts it '[t]he promise of happiness has created an epidemic of depression. It's us who are being consumed, not the objects".
Secondly, despite not being religious himself, Jones comes to the conclusion that the communities that are most successful at challenging the malaise of postmodernity are those which have religion as a foundation. Yet, not just any religion, for Jones is also unimpressed with expressions of New Age religion which are focussed almost exclusively on the self and mirror many of postmodernity's worst traits.
It's a good read, and well worth it for those of you who are interested in culture, community and what the Gospel might have to offer to our society of well-fed and free-time rich drones.
Also, the book taught me that the word 'idiocy' has its roots in the Greek word 'idiotes' which originally meant 'a private person'. The logical conclusion here is that wisdom is found not with the individual but within a community.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Reflecting on Anger
I've been thinking a bit about anger over the past few days. Mainly, when is anger a legitimate reaction, or as I have been asked several times over the past few years, "When does anger become 'righteous' anger"?
I agree very much with what Neil Anderson says in the Freedom in Christ course that anger is generally a response that we have to a blocked goal. For example, when our goal is to get to a meeting on time, if we find ourselves in a traffic jam then anger is the typical reaction. Anderson follows up, rightly I believe, by suggesting that we should only have goals that are within our control. Getting to a meeting on time is not always in our control (such as with the traffic jam example), so we are asking for trouble if we make that our goal. Anderson suggests that if our goals are things that are within our power to make happen then anger will be a decreasing influence in our life, because we'll find ourselves facing fewer blocked goals. This makes good sense and I've found it very helpful.
However, what I've then been forced to consider is whether anger is always a result of a blocked goal. If it is, then surely anger is always wrong, and doesn't it therefore become 'sin'? In Ephesians 4:26 Paul draws a distinction between anger and sin by quoting Psalm 4 and writing "In your anger do not sin". Following this, sin is not anger, but something that might be born our of anger. This distinction makes me unable to accept the suggestion that anger is always wrong.
But if anger isn't always wrong, then under what circumstances is it right? I'm not happy with the manufactured distinction between 'regular anger' and 'righteous anger', but it does acknowledge this tricky question.
Some people point at the cleansing of the Temple as a time when Jesus exercised anger, but I've been reading the Gospels on this matter and I'm not convinced this was something that Jesus did in anger. John's account makes specific reference to an Old Testament verse - "Zeal for my father's house will consume me" - and zeal is a different thing to anger. Jesus's passion for the honour of God's name does not necessarily equate to anger. A bouncer can throw someone out of a nightclub without having to be angry. Instead I wonder if our attribution of anger to Jesus here is because he's acting in an 'angry' way and so we make the necessary assumption, perhaps because we're used to flamboyant actions being an expression of emotion rather than being a considered choice. But equally, it's hard to read Matthew 23 and not imagine Jesus being at least a tiny bit annoyed.
Perhaps it's as simple as asking what is causing our anger? Anger over a missed meeting is a different thing, surely, to anger over an injustice done to a friend. Perhaps it comes down to whether or not we're angry in our own defence, or whether or not we're angry in defence of others or God? Or perhaps anger is just the emotional response to a situation, and then we have a choice to make about how to respond: "Self-control" or "Lack of Self-Control"? The latter leads to sin, and the former may lead to the cleansing of a Temple and the restoration of God's honour.
Just some thoughts, which I'm still processing.
I agree very much with what Neil Anderson says in the Freedom in Christ course that anger is generally a response that we have to a blocked goal. For example, when our goal is to get to a meeting on time, if we find ourselves in a traffic jam then anger is the typical reaction. Anderson follows up, rightly I believe, by suggesting that we should only have goals that are within our control. Getting to a meeting on time is not always in our control (such as with the traffic jam example), so we are asking for trouble if we make that our goal. Anderson suggests that if our goals are things that are within our power to make happen then anger will be a decreasing influence in our life, because we'll find ourselves facing fewer blocked goals. This makes good sense and I've found it very helpful.
However, what I've then been forced to consider is whether anger is always a result of a blocked goal. If it is, then surely anger is always wrong, and doesn't it therefore become 'sin'? In Ephesians 4:26 Paul draws a distinction between anger and sin by quoting Psalm 4 and writing "In your anger do not sin". Following this, sin is not anger, but something that might be born our of anger. This distinction makes me unable to accept the suggestion that anger is always wrong.
But if anger isn't always wrong, then under what circumstances is it right? I'm not happy with the manufactured distinction between 'regular anger' and 'righteous anger', but it does acknowledge this tricky question.
Some people point at the cleansing of the Temple as a time when Jesus exercised anger, but I've been reading the Gospels on this matter and I'm not convinced this was something that Jesus did in anger. John's account makes specific reference to an Old Testament verse - "Zeal for my father's house will consume me" - and zeal is a different thing to anger. Jesus's passion for the honour of God's name does not necessarily equate to anger. A bouncer can throw someone out of a nightclub without having to be angry. Instead I wonder if our attribution of anger to Jesus here is because he's acting in an 'angry' way and so we make the necessary assumption, perhaps because we're used to flamboyant actions being an expression of emotion rather than being a considered choice. But equally, it's hard to read Matthew 23 and not imagine Jesus being at least a tiny bit annoyed.
Perhaps it's as simple as asking what is causing our anger? Anger over a missed meeting is a different thing, surely, to anger over an injustice done to a friend. Perhaps it comes down to whether or not we're angry in our own defence, or whether or not we're angry in defence of others or God? Or perhaps anger is just the emotional response to a situation, and then we have a choice to make about how to respond: "Self-control" or "Lack of Self-Control"? The latter leads to sin, and the former may lead to the cleansing of a Temple and the restoration of God's honour.
Just some thoughts, which I'm still processing.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Journaling the Journey
When I was a young and impressionable Christian (as opposed to being the old and impressionable Christian that I am now) I was encouraged to keep a 'prayer journal'. Even now I am still unsure what a 'prayer journal' is, but I've been writing stuff down for a while now. Actually, I've been writing stuff down since 28th February 1996. At least, that's the date on the first page of my first journal.
It's gone up and down. Sometimes there have been periods of months where I wrote nothing (I'm sure there's a silent period of at least a year somewhere in my history) and then others times it's been a daily habit. Generally, I've recorded my feelings and thoughts about how I am on a given day, and what God might be up to. Other things make an appearance every now and then, such as lists of people to pray for and quotes that I thought were so good that I should record them somewhere, but on the whole it's a collection of where my soul has been over the past fifteen years.
And I'm thankful for it. It's been immensely helpful for me to have documented evidence that I have grown in my faith over the past fifteen years. It's encouraging to have records of what God has done, both in my life and the lives of others. It's amazing to see how the things that I feared the most never actually came to pass, and that God has kept His promises. It's great to see how my theology has developed and my thinking has changed. It's humbling to see the context of my journey, to see the patterns and plans come together leading me not necessarily to a certain role or location, but rather towards Christ-likeness.
I am very glad that I made the decision to keep a journal and very glad that I still have them to look back on. It's easy to forget things. It's the natural state actually. It's remembering things that takes work, and every footstep on my journey with God is worth remembering.
It's gone up and down. Sometimes there have been periods of months where I wrote nothing (I'm sure there's a silent period of at least a year somewhere in my history) and then others times it's been a daily habit. Generally, I've recorded my feelings and thoughts about how I am on a given day, and what God might be up to. Other things make an appearance every now and then, such as lists of people to pray for and quotes that I thought were so good that I should record them somewhere, but on the whole it's a collection of where my soul has been over the past fifteen years.
And I'm thankful for it. It's been immensely helpful for me to have documented evidence that I have grown in my faith over the past fifteen years. It's encouraging to have records of what God has done, both in my life and the lives of others. It's amazing to see how the things that I feared the most never actually came to pass, and that God has kept His promises. It's great to see how my theology has developed and my thinking has changed. It's humbling to see the context of my journey, to see the patterns and plans come together leading me not necessarily to a certain role or location, but rather towards Christ-likeness.
I am very glad that I made the decision to keep a journal and very glad that I still have them to look back on. It's easy to forget things. It's the natural state actually. It's remembering things that takes work, and every footstep on my journey with God is worth remembering.
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