Showing posts with label Michael Jensen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Jensen. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Godly church politics

Michael Jensen, the Blogging Parson, reflects on how to conduct diocesan politics Christianly. The piece is directed towards the Sydney Anglican context and will have most resonance there, but the principles are transferrable. Michael's piece makes important points for all Christian involvement in formal politics of any kind.

Sydney's particular challenge on this front arises from the decades-long political success of the ACL (Anglican Church League), a party within the synod and standing committee (read, parliament and executive) that has held a sizable majority for decades. Can a polity dominated so thoroughly and for so long by a single party sustain wise, measured and humble political discourse, deliberation and action? How can such a polity nurture a loyal opposition that does not feel (and is not in practice) marginalised, squished or ignored? Might there be something to be said for standing committee elections based on proportional representation (as I believe are used in Melbourne)? I have never been to synod and am generally quite ignorant of how things work, so these are genuine questions.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

The future of humanity, and other stories

Michael sketches the future of humanity, which is neither epic nor tragic.

Paul also wants to discuss the future of humanity by separating the quants from the poets. I suspect we need both.

Brad talks tax (again). Having previously described why Christians willingly pay taxes, this time he asks if it is ever justified for Christians to engage in tax avoidance (or even evasion): part one; part two; part three.

Carl shares how the human body is like a lake, or what medicine needs to learn from ecology: "We know now that there are a hundred trillion microbes in a human body. You carry more microbes in you this moment than all the people who ever lived. Those microbes are growing all the time. [...] The microbes in your body at this moment outnumber your cells by ten to one. And they come in a huge diversity of species — somewhere in the thousands, although no one has a precise count yet. By some estimates there are twenty million microbial genes in your body: about a thousand times more than the 20,000 protein-coding genes in the human genome. So the Human Genome Project was, at best, a nice start. If we really want to understand all the genes in the human body, we have a long way to go."

UK journalists posing as representatives of arms manufacturer Lockheed Martin expose corporate greenwashing in an undercover sting at well-known environmental charity Conservation International. A useful rule of thumb: the larger the company, the more sceptical to be regarding corporate claims to ecological credentials.

Jason links to an article answering the ever-pressing question: When did girls start wearing pink?

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Shadows of the Divine: reminder

As mentioned back here, New College is hosting a free exhibition of artworks from the Methodist Church Art Collection and of a rare first edition King James Version printed in Scotland, to celebrate its 400th anniversary. The exhibition opens this weekend and you can find more information here.

Speaking of the KJV, Michael Jensen reflects on why we the anniversary of the King James Version is worth celebrating.

Wednesday, December 08, 2010

It doesn't have to be this way

"This foundational theological belief in the sovereign rule of God in the risen Jesus Christ can be the basis for an attitude of confidence without lapsing into an ugly triumphalism or a defensive paranoia. The sovereignty of God is the basis not for a martyr complex, but for true martyrdom – which is witnessing to Jesus Christ come what may. A persecution complex is essentially self-interested and even narcissistic. A life lived for Jesus Christ, on the other hand, risks itself entirely for the good of the other without regard for self – knowing that it entrusts itself to the God who raised Jesus from the dead."

- Michael Jensen.

Michael is talking about why a particular denomination or church doesn't need to fear its own demise, though his key theological claim here (which lies at the centre of his PhD thesis on martyrdom) is not far from the centre of my own thesis.

The good news of the risen Christ means that Christians don't need to fear squaring up to whatever social, political or ecological challenges that may already exist or may soon arise. We are free to pour ourselves out in loving service of neighbour for the glory of God, entrusting ourselves to the God who raised Jesus from the dead. We can do the hard work of thinking through how best to love our neighbours in a rapidly changing world, where a complex variety of interconnected goods clamour for our attention in patterns both persistent and novel.

Why does the good news banish our fears? Or rather, why does it enable us to face them squarely and yet be undaunted, requiring no distraction, no promise of a silver bullet, no paralysing despair, no frantic scramble to save ourselves? In faith, hope and love, Jesus walked willingly into the valley of the shadow of death. We can follow him without being alone, without needing to vindicate ourselves, without needing any guarantees that the path will not be bumpy or difficult. Where he has gone, we follow.

I have finished a number of my recent posts suggesting that "It doesn't have to be this way". The possibility of another way is discovered as we walk in the footsteps of the one who carried his cross to Golgotha. And it begins with surprise, wonder and joy at the birth of a baby amongst beasts. Advent is a season in which Christians are to wait, to pray, to hope: it doesn't have to be this way.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Discussing euthanasia in Australia

"[Euthanasia] is a case where the Bible's prohibition of killing innocent humans is a no-brainer, even if we agree about little else. For this prohibition generates a community that upholds and cares for others at their weakest and most vulnerable. The prohibition against deliberate killing of innocent human life is what impels us to research and practise good palliative care. It enables trust within patient-carer and patient-relative relationships. It frees the ill person from constantly having to interrogate the hidden motives of those around them, and allows them to accept their care without shame. It says to all of us that, burden or not, we can stop being productive, and allow others to help us."

- Andrew Cameron, "Euthanasia question needs wider debate", SMH 8th October 2010.

Michael Jensen also recently had a piece on popular Australian current issues site The Punch, in which he tried an imaginative and emotive approach to the question (and received responses that were correspondingly even more heated).

I agree that legislation ought not be done by poll, that more discussion about the effects of legalising euthanasia on the community of trust and care is important and that we need careful and compassionate discussion that takes good note of the overlaps and distinctions between suicide, medically assisted suicide, withdrawal of treatment, and palliative care (rather than the simplistic: euthanasia, yes or no?). I also agree that even the most carefully constructed legal safeguards may not entirely prevent abuse and destructive forms of psychological pressure, shifting the boundaries between care and burden in undesirable ways.

Yet are current proposals about euthanasia (namely, the overturning of the federal of the 1995 Northern Territory legislation) really a "no-brainer" case of killing innocent humans? There may be cases of abuse in which this is so. The re-activating of the legislation may lead to "a creeping expansion of candidates for euthanasia". But for a patient voluntarily (and without emotional pressure) to take his or her own life with assistance from another would seem to fall under a discussion of suicide more than murder, making the attribution of innocence to the victim problematic, and the situation considerably more complex.

There may well be other good reasons for considering deliberate suicide (with or without assistance) to be in some sense a failure to cherish the gift of life, or an expression of despair within a broken and hurting world, but I think that the debate about this matter is necessarily knotty since the possible and actual situations themselves are morally complex. I do not support the legalising of euthanasia, but I don't think that the discussion is a no brainer.

Personally, I wonder whether the notions of choice and autonomy that frequently underlie the case for euthanasia are worth exploring and critiquing in greater detail. Is a world based on each of us deciding "what is best for me" really the world that is best for all of us?

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A drop in the ocean

How many fish in the sea? A fraction of how many there were a few decades ago.

Where has the oil gone? Has the BP disaster been overhyped? Or simply pushed underwater? And where are all the dead animals? And where is the dispersant?

Is it too late to save Miami? An interview with a paleoclimatologist on rising sea levels.

But really, what's climate change got to do with the price of bread? Quite a lot, actually. And the stability of food prices is related to political stability.

The current Russian heat wave is unprecedented for at least 1,000 years and likely to become the deadliest heat wave in history.

What makes a Methodist Sunday School teacher mad?

Are games a waste of time when the world is burning? Or might they be just what is needed?

Is martyrdom a repudiation of the goodness of life? Not at all, says Michael Jensen (summarising his PhD in a page).

And in a mere three part series, Ben tackles the perennially vexatious issue of gelato ethics.

Monday, February 08, 2010

Sola Scriptura: use and abuse of a slogan

The Reformation slogan of sola scriptura (Latin for "the scriptures alone") is often invoked during intra-Protestant debates to rule certain claims out of court as "unbiblical". However, it is worth noting that this is often a misuse of the phrase.

Sola scriptura was one of a number of Reformation slogans beginning with the Latin term sola ("alone" or "only"). Others included "grace alone", "faith alone", "Christ alone" and the "to the glory of God alone".* These phrases were used polemically and pedagogically by Protestants to distinguish themselves theologically from Roman Catholics, whom they believed had illegitimately added to each of these crucial doctrines and thereby obscured or effaced the truth of divine salvation in Christ.
*I'd include all the Latin phrases, but then you might get the false impression that I can read Latin.

Thus sola scriptura was historically a claim about the sufficiency of the holy scriptures in teaching us all that is necessary for salvation in Christ, and was generally intended as a critique of Roman Catholic reliance on extra-biblical traditions. However, notice what is not included by this claim. While the holy scriptures contain all that is necessary for salvation in Christ, they do not necessarily contain all that is necessary for, say, conducting open heart surgery, writing a good poem, determining the age of the sun, understanding the culture of first century Palestine or accurately measuring and accounting for long term climate trends.

Christian theologians can and should expound the meaning and significance of the holy scriptures, and in so doing, help to create space for disciplines other than theology, affirming the goodness of knowledge gained in other ways. This is not a denial of sola scriptura, but part of its true meaning.

UPDATE: It has been brought to my attention that Michael Jensen posted some thoughts along similar lines a couple of months ago (though watch out for the ensuing discussion, which gets a little lengthy and somewhat off topic...).

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Fish on Eagleton on Ditchkins

In the opening sentence of the last chapter of his new book, “Reason, Faith and Revolution,” the British critic Terry Eagleton asks, “Why are the most unlikely people, including myself, suddenly talking about God?” His answer, elaborated in prose that is alternately witty, scabrous and angry, is that the other candidates for guidance — science, reason, liberalism, capitalism — just don’t deliver what is ultimately needed. “What other symbolic form,” he queries, “has managed to forge such direct links between the most universal and absolute of truths and the everyday practices of countless millions of men and women?”

- Stanley Fish, "God Talk".

Michael Jensen has also been reading Eagleton's new book, in which he defends the intellectual complexity and importance of Christian theology, belief and practice (or aspects of them at least) against the new atheism of Dawkins and Hitchens (to whom he refers collectively as "Ditchkins"). Sounds like an interesting book. But I mainly put up this post for the title.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

U2: No Line on the Horizon

So I bought the new album (actually, Jessica bought it for me). I will leave the full reviews for others; suffice to say that there are definite highlights and a number of tracks that I think will grow on me. Instead, I will just comment on what I take to be one of the key lines in the album:

Only love, only love can leave such a mark / But only love, only love can heal such a scar
Love is an intensification of the problem. In fact, some may say that love is the problem. It is our attachment to perishable things that causes us pain. We invest ourselves in our work that is ignored or undone by our successor, in crafting music that fades before the next bar begins, in sculpting bodies that sag and bruise. We love dying people. We love and let down our guard, becoming vulnerable to pain.

But there is no other way to live. Love is what makes us human. We are loved into being, and quickly learn to love in return, though the quality of our love varies with the object of our love and with our perception of being loved first. Love is our origin, our task, our burden, our destiny.

Love is a wound that only love can heal.
For a more cynical take on the matter, Michael offers ten things that irritate him about U2 (perhaps I have just transgressed against #3... And since when was being earnest a hanging offence?).

Monday, February 23, 2009

For whom are we disrobing?

"The reason we eschewed formality in church services was because that was what WE on the inside wanted (or some of us, anyway) - the missiological reason was in fact only a justification for it."

Michael ponders the current reasons for anti-formality in some Sydney Anglican churches. Go on over to his post to contribute to the energetic and interesting discussion.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Ten worst habits of preachers

Michael explains. Perhaps we can add a 12th: going on for longer than you said you would.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Jensen exposes false teachers falsehoods

Michael reflects on the use of "false teachers" in the New Testament and today.

"It is increasingly the case that this term is used to describe any Christian or putative Christian whose teaching differs from mine. [...] I am inclined to say that if I encounter a person who subscribes to the creeds in good faith and holds Scripture as finally authoritative for Christians (they don't have to have my doctrine of Scripture) and I see no evidence of corruption, lust and greed in their lives, then I am certainly cautious about applying the 'false teacher' label, even if I disagree strongly with what they teach."

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Introducing HIM

Michael Jensen, fresh from the success of YOU: An Introduction (a great Christmas present, BTW), has now recommenced work on the sequel HIM: An Introduction. If you missed the last one, this is your chance for your blog quotes and jokes to become immortalised in the archaic medium of ink and paper. Head on over and join the discussion. So far, Michael has been talking about the puzzling invisibility of God, the startling claim that God is love and the controversial and often misunderstood belief that God chooses.
Five points to everyone who makes at least one semi-relevant comment over on HIM and then comes back here to say you have done so (with a link to where you made the comment).

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

On Rowan Williams: now available

For those who may be interested, Wipf and Stock have recently published a new volume of essays titled On Rowan Williams: Critical Essays, edited by the irrepressible Dr Matheson Russell from the University of Auckland. The collection includes nine contributions from young Australian Anglicans, such as Ben Myers (Faith and Theology), Michael Jensen (The Blogging Parson), Andrew Cameron, Greg Clarke and more. There is a foreword by Oliver O'Donovan and a twenty-eight page bibliography of all Williams' published works. Here is the blurb from the publisher's site:

Theologian, poet, public intellectual, and clergyman, Rowan Williams is one of the leading lights of contemporary British theology. He has published over twenty books and one hundred scholarly essays in a distinguished career as an academic theologian that culminated in his appointment as Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity at Oxford University. Williams left this post to serve in the Anglican Church, first as Bishop of Monmouth, then Archbishop of Wales, before finally being enthroned in 2003 as the 104th Archbishop of Canterbury.

In this collection of essays, a talented younger generation of Australian theologians critically analyzes the themes that bind together Williams's theology. These sympathetic yet probing essays traverse the full breadth of Williams's work, from his studies on Arius, the Desert Fathers, Hegel, and Trinitarian theology to his more pastoral writings on spirituality, sexuality, politics, and the Anglican Church.
Here is what you get:
Foreword: Australia on Rowan Williams • Oliver O’Donovan
Introduction • Matheson Russell
1. The Ecclesiology of Rowan Williams • Rhys Bezzant
2. The Hidden Center: Trinity and incarnation in the Negative (and Positive) Theology of Rowan Williams • Andrew Moody
3. Disruptive History: Rowan Williams on Heresy and Orthodoxy • Benjamin Myers
4. Krisis? Kritik?: Judgment and Jesus in the Theology of Rowan Williams • Michael Jensen
5. Dispossession and Negotiation: Rowan Williams on Hegel and Political Theology • Matheson Russell
6. The Humanity of Godliness: Spirituality and Creatureliness in Rowan Williams • Byron Smith
7. Desire and Grace: Rowan Williams and the Search for Bodily Wholeness • Andrew Cameron
8. Rowan Williams on War and Peace • Tom Frame
9. The Beauty of God in Cairo and Islamabad: Rowan Williams as Apologist • Greg Clarke
The price is a mere US$29.00, or $23.20 from the Wipf and Stock website. Unfortunately, if you happen to live outside the US, then you'll need to contact the publisher to ask for a special order form (and pay approx US$13 in P&H). I have no idea why any non-US resident would consider buying a book about a Brit by a bunch of Aussies.
Twenty points if you purchase a copy of the book. Prove it by quoting the first sentence of a random page in the book. (Hahaha, what a brilliant marketing ploy!)

UPDATE: A nice review by Bruce Kaye.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Church politics

An oxymoron? A tautology? A necessary evil? An expression of God's kingdom? Michael Jensen posts eight points on church politics.

Friday, October 31, 2008

YOU: An Introduction

The inestimable Michael Jensen, a.k.a. the blogging parson, has just had his first book published. I mentioned that he was working on it back here and here. It's called YOU: An introduction and can be ordered here (or here if you are in the US) for the bargain price of AUS$16.95. You can even download the cover, contents, introduction and first chapter here.

The book was originally posted (in small sections) on a blog (now closed, I guess the publishers want people to buy the book!), and the comments made on the posts (and Michael's replies) have been included in the book, sometimes taking the discussion in unexpected directions. Since I made one or two of the comments, if you buy it, you are also getting my first published book (well, I can pretend)!

Oh, you want to know what it's about? Details, details. Besides, I would have thought the title sufficient. If not, here is the blurb from the publisher's website:

Who are You really? What are You supposed to be like? What—or whose—purpose do You serve? It's never been more complicated—or more confusing—to be a human, and it's never been harder to answer the question of who You are. But in You: An introduction, Michael Jensen sets about doing just that. In his exploration of some of the different facets of the human condition (You are alive; You are free; You are a child), we soon discover that the question of who we are is essentially bound up with the question of who Jesus is ...
Great to read and even better to give away!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

The end of teaching the Bible?

Michael Jensen wants us to stop teaching the Bible.

I agree and am off to preach my second-last sermon at All Souls.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Links

Michael's getting fed up with blogging - and nutters.

Jason is pondering prayers for the dead.

Boxologies links to a Presidential selector quiz.

Eric is trying to remember something. I think it is who he is.

And Ben's thinking about pornography - and worship.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

In praise of... teachers (meme)

Having been tagged by Michael Jensen, I would like to praise five significant teachers in my life. As I am only allowed five, no offense is intended to the many gifted and caring teachers not found on this list. I have had four significant periods of formal education, so have picked one teacher from each period, and then taken the fifth from an experience of church.

1. Mr Warren Glass
Thornleigh West Primary school
Year 5 was the most important year of my primary school experience, probably of my formal education overall. Until that year, I had been a good and conscientious student. After it, I loved learning. We might not have covered the syllabus, but we had a great time and my horizons were stretched.

Every morning, we would begin with music, lots of it, singing along to the funny-looking man with the guitar. Then, we would discuss current affairs, society and culture. Sometimes, he would just talk about something that had come up in the news and that would take us through to morning tea, or even lunch. Others hated it; I couldn't get enough. After lunch, he would read us books and get us to respond to them creatively, turning the classroom into the narrative we were experiencing. I am sure we must have done some maths and spelling and so on, but I really don't remember. What I do remember is regretting hearing the bell for the end of the day.

Throughout the year, Mr Glass loaned me books personally, and would talk about them when I returned them, forming in me habits of critical novel reading that have continued and broadened ever since. I trace my sense of humour to him. He would tell jokes all day, and the feeling of starting to "get" some of them was a treat. To him I also trace the beginnings of my sense of social responsibility, particularly ecological concern. And Year 5 was also the time that I realised that being a Christian isn't something that happens automatically, but involves personal loyalty to Jesus. Although it took me a few more years to explicitly own that loyalty, the ground-clearing work that happened with Mr Glass was crucial.

Wherever you are, Mr Glass, I salute you - and I thank God for you.

2. Mrs K. Ballantyne
James Ruse Agricultural High School
Year 11 was for my high school years what Year 5 was for my primary schooling. My memories of those two years are far more vivid and three dimensional than the other years put together. Mrs Bal taught me English in year 11 and much of year 12. Educationally, until that point I had focused heavily on maths and science, selecting my subjects to avoid the humanities and studying English under some duress (even though I loved reading). Indeed, Mrs Bal initially had to talk me out of doing the lowest level of English offered at Ruse. Nevertheless, by the end of year 12, I would go on to study Arts at Sydney University, majoring in English and Philosophy. Since I had Mr Ballantyne (husband of Mrs Bal) for Physics, this transformation was something of a victory for her. Mrs Bal introduced me to T. S. Eliot (I still clearly remember reading The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock), to the first Shakespeare I really understood, enjoyed and was moved by (Hamlet) and to the delightful Tom Stoppard response (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead).

I remember a story I heard about her first ever classroom as a young teacher fresh out of college at a rough school. When she walked in, a boy was sitting on a ledge, dangling his feet out a second-story window. She walked over and shut the window on him, leaving him outside on the ledge for the whole period! Whether it's apocryphal or not, it captures something of her creativity and charm.

3. Dr Geoff Williams
Sydney University
I first met Geoff (and he was, I think, the first teacher whom I knew on a first name basis) in a second year English course called Grammar and Discourse, in which he opened my eyes to the nuts and bolts of how language works via systemic functional grammar. We were looking at language so closely that I ended up writing my essay for the course on the opening of a Beckett play and ran out of space after I had discussed the first ten words! This was probably one of the best two or three classes throughout my Arts degree, which I initially selected on timetable convenience and on the casual recommendation of an acquaintance.

However, it was Geoff's personal care for each student in a large class that really grabbed my attention. He quickly knew everyone's name (rare in a lecturer, particularly in a class of around 50 or 60) and took all of his own tutorials. He worked hard to provide excellent examples of the language patterns we were studying and simultaneously introduced me to his second field of expertise: children's literature. When I ended up writing an English honours thesis comparing Harry Potter and Narnia, he became my surrogate supervisor (my official supervisor, based on my initial submission, was a modernist specialist (momentum from Prufrock!) and was humble enough to acknowledge himself out of his depth when my topic shifted).

Years later, his invitation to help teach a modified form of the grammar course (which had become immensely popular and so they didn't have enough tutors) rescued my battered passion for teaching after a year in the deep end as a high school teacher without training or experience. He continued to follow my progress for many years after university and we would regularly catch up for coffee, until he recently accepted an exciting post in Canada. I must write to him again soon.

4. Rev Dr Andrew Cameron
Moore Theological College
Amongst many gifted teachers at Moore, Andrew's gentleness, humility and deep insight were a bastion of sanity and humanity in a hectic and demanding environment. When he first taught me Philosophy 1, he was under the mistaken impression that I had a PhD in Philosophy, which led to some extra stress for him (since his specialty is Ethics, not Philosophy) and some unearned cred for me! Since then, I have been in a number of his classes and have thoroughly enjoyed them all. I also always appreciate his social issues briefings, which come out every "few" weeks.

In class, the wisdom and depth of his material was often veiled behind a lack of confidence and somewhat bumpy presentation, but there were so many gems that have formed me both academically and spiritually. Obviously, his love of ethics and Oliver O'Donovan in particular (see image)* have been very significant in shaping my own future direction.
*This is a picture of Andrew Cameron and Oliver O'Donovan. Andrew is wearing a shirt that our class made for him, which bears a portrait of OO'D with the caption "What would O'Donovan do?".

5. Rev Andrew Katay
St Barnabas' Anglican Church, Broadway
Many preachers and Bible study leaders have shaped me in a variety of related (and sometimes competing) traditions, but it is probably my years with Andrew Katay that have most significantly shaped my faith in Father, Son and Holy Spirit, my love of the holy scriptures and the gospel they proclaim (especially in the Gospels) and my hope in God's coming kingdom.

I met Andrew at my first SUEU event back in 1997 and worked closely with him for most of the five years I spent at Sydney Uni, in a variety of formal and informal contexts. Then, when Jessica and I were married and joined St Barnabas', Broadway, he was our pastor for another four and a half years (there is about eighteen months' overlap between these two periods) and for the final two years, he was also the immediate supervisor of my service as a catechist (student minister). During that time, I have listened to probably hundreds of his talks, sermons, studies, seminars and debates, and have spent hundreds of hours with him in committees, planning meetings, reading groups and casual conversations.

Although we chronically disagree in some areas (politics!), he helped me notice and begin to overcome many of the inherited dualisms in my theology, sharing a faith that is bigger and deeper than "Jesus saves": trinitarian in basis, christological in focus, cosmic in scope, graciously ethical in direction, generous in difference and with a resurrection hope.

-----
None of these teachers is without faults, but my prayer is to become a little more like the best in each of them.

Who have been significant teachers in your life? If you can't think of five, start with one. If you have a blog, consider yourself tagged. When you post, include a link in the comments here.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

If Jesus had a blog and other links

If Jesus had a blog. H/T Kyle.

MPJ on why we don't need to tell teenagers they suck.

Kim on management theory (or why Jesus needs a blog).