“When a nation undergoes occupation by a foreign army, for example, some formerly reliable citizens begin to co-operate with the enemy, perhaps for the rewards that such co-operation promises, perhaps out of fear. Especially when the foreign occupation has a criminal character, it becomes exceedingly difficult for ordinary citizens to maintain their customary honesty and sound moral habits. Cynicism is forced upon them; they must defend themselves on all sides, and feel great pressure to narrow their sphere of moral action to life in the family and among trusted friends”
(Michael Novak, “A Universal Culture of Human Rights and Freedom’s Habits: Caritapolis” a contribution to “Making Globalization Good”, John H.Dunning, Oxford University Press 2003)
I have never lived in a nation under foreign occupation, but this phenomenon feels uncannily familiar.
In Novak’s scenario, the citizen-enemy relationship is crisply defined and the relational lockdown is an obvious resolution for becoming neither the perpetrator nor the recipient of further betrayal.
But life in our increasingly globalised world is far less straightforward. We have created technologies that feed our own expectations. We both want, and are expected to deliver, everything, anywhere, right now. Oh, and for a good price. How do we do it? Well we don’t really do we. The confusion and illusions need only last until the robber is out of reach. And when the smoke clears we find ourselves on our backsides in a muddy pool of conveniently ill-defined roles with our own identities left shaken and our relationships feeling at best misunderstood and at worst betrayed.
For the Globalised Citizen it seems we must add to the temptation of reward and the terror of fear, a third explanatory factor:
Not really understanding who the enemy is.
[1759:5489]
Monday 12 September 2011
Sunday 4 September 2011
Seed and Thorns
Some thoughts stirred up by a friend’s blog post, who, in the thick of transition, writes “… he sees a good number of older people who have been in ministry for years, and who haven’t made provision for their older years. They have ‘trusted in God’ to look after them, without having the understanding or wisdom (or help from others) to get practical about it. How sad. How scary. How real”
There is a lot in this post. The Maths Of Mission. It scratches on the surface of the controversial and taboo subject of Christian provision; it rattles the keys to the cells of the ‘free’ church.
When I read this post it reminds me of things that I have read in a bible, or things that Jesus once apparently said - and that I once believed had some personal application, but now wonder if I misunderstood the character of ‘my’ God in what I have read … or if I believe in a different God to everybody else. Though I doubt that.
I remember respecting King David for “… buying the threshing floor and the oxen and [paying] fifty shekels of silver for them, saying “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.” (2 Sam, 1 Chr)
I remember reading something about “small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it“ and considering both the curiousness and weirdness of those that choose that path.
When I consider those who have ‘trusted in God’ at the expense of their future ‘life securities’ I’m not sure I would call it sad. The reality is that everybody’s reality is different. It is complicated because faith is individualistic and personal, but interdependence is not. And this is a truth that divides the church.
I guess everybody’s reality is also influenced by his or her own macro-political environment. Where I live, my government once told me that if I worked for 30 years that I would be entitled to a state pension. Twelve years on and the goal posts have already moved so significantly that by extrapolation I expect to be working until I die. I don’t mind that. But whenever the state announces disproportionate tax rises, it serves only to inspire me to become more tax-efficient and to further believe that Old Age Criminality will eventually become justified (!) So one could only imagine how I might feel about being asked to give to any ‘charitable’ organisations who add a further burden to the tax bill without returning a proportional service.
If I don’t know how to plan and budget, but I do have faith is that good? I think it's wonderful. Yeah, let's tear down the schools (!). But if I know how to plan and budget but I substitute exercising this knowledge with ‘faith’ is that irresponsible? Maybe. A pension plan is just a business risk, right? Is a ‘faith’ risk any more futureproof than a business risk? If my business risk fails, people seem to care less that I am poorer than they because they know that if I had succeeded then it would be they who would be poorer than I. But if my ‘faith’ risk fails then that just makes me a fool for Christ, right? Maybe.
I remember reading a parable about a farmer whereby Jesus said that “… the seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”
If I speak to those OAPs, I mean OAMs, I wonder if they will speak in regret, or with a wise and unswerving faith that reflects depths like a pearl finely honed by a lifetime of abrasion.
[1739:5316]
There is a lot in this post. The Maths Of Mission. It scratches on the surface of the controversial and taboo subject of Christian provision; it rattles the keys to the cells of the ‘free’ church.
When I read this post it reminds me of things that I have read in a bible, or things that Jesus once apparently said - and that I once believed had some personal application, but now wonder if I misunderstood the character of ‘my’ God in what I have read … or if I believe in a different God to everybody else. Though I doubt that.
I remember respecting King David for “… buying the threshing floor and the oxen and [paying] fifty shekels of silver for them, saying “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.” (2 Sam, 1 Chr)
I remember reading something about “small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it“ and considering both the curiousness and weirdness of those that choose that path.
When I consider those who have ‘trusted in God’ at the expense of their future ‘life securities’ I’m not sure I would call it sad. The reality is that everybody’s reality is different. It is complicated because faith is individualistic and personal, but interdependence is not. And this is a truth that divides the church.
I guess everybody’s reality is also influenced by his or her own macro-political environment. Where I live, my government once told me that if I worked for 30 years that I would be entitled to a state pension. Twelve years on and the goal posts have already moved so significantly that by extrapolation I expect to be working until I die. I don’t mind that. But whenever the state announces disproportionate tax rises, it serves only to inspire me to become more tax-efficient and to further believe that Old Age Criminality will eventually become justified (!) So one could only imagine how I might feel about being asked to give to any ‘charitable’ organisations who add a further burden to the tax bill without returning a proportional service.
If I don’t know how to plan and budget, but I do have faith is that good? I think it's wonderful. Yeah, let's tear down the schools (!). But if I know how to plan and budget but I substitute exercising this knowledge with ‘faith’ is that irresponsible? Maybe. A pension plan is just a business risk, right? Is a ‘faith’ risk any more futureproof than a business risk? If my business risk fails, people seem to care less that I am poorer than they because they know that if I had succeeded then it would be they who would be poorer than I. But if my ‘faith’ risk fails then that just makes me a fool for Christ, right? Maybe.
I remember reading a parable about a farmer whereby Jesus said that “… the seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”
If I speak to those OAPs, I mean OAMs, I wonder if they will speak in regret, or with a wise and unswerving faith that reflects depths like a pearl finely honed by a lifetime of abrasion.
[1739:5316]
Wednesday 8 June 2011
The Side That We Forget
Branding and brand images can be powerful entities. Two logos that I see almost every day remind me of two significant characters from history who we remember for their respective villainy and heroism.
One was a man who had a vision to forge a new future for people within his sphere of responsibility. His Robin-Hood-style plan was to make car-ownership available to average families; something that would open up doors for them, creating possibilities and freedoms within a globalising world. Up until his era, such freedoms had been a luxury affordable only to society’s wealthy; the most an average citizen could afford was a motorcycle. Under the new state-sponsored program a family could make weekly payments into a savings scheme and drive away with a vehicle that could carry up to two adults, three children and luggage, at 62mph.
The other man had a vision to forge a new future for people from distant lands and of alien language and culture. He himself travelled extensively and endured harsh living conditions in order to help people who had been subject to slavery, mostly ruthlessly, and frequently fatally. His plan was to equip them with a means out of their predicament, by trading commodities as an alternative to labour and through faith-based societal teaching. His earlier trips were made together with his family, but as his divine mission increasingly obsessed him, he left behind those for whom he had responsibility where his wife became an isolated and depressed alcoholic.
It is difficult to find Good Intention exercised in one realm that has not had an adverse affect, to some extent, in another.
The latter character was, obviously, David Livingstone, whose surname is printed in bold letters across our kids’ school uniform. The first, Adolf Hitler and Volkswagen whose logo perpetually glares at me from the centre of my steering wheel.
The hero, the villain, and the side that we forget.
[1686:5230]
One was a man who had a vision to forge a new future for people within his sphere of responsibility. His Robin-Hood-style plan was to make car-ownership available to average families; something that would open up doors for them, creating possibilities and freedoms within a globalising world. Up until his era, such freedoms had been a luxury affordable only to society’s wealthy; the most an average citizen could afford was a motorcycle. Under the new state-sponsored program a family could make weekly payments into a savings scheme and drive away with a vehicle that could carry up to two adults, three children and luggage, at 62mph.
The other man had a vision to forge a new future for people from distant lands and of alien language and culture. He himself travelled extensively and endured harsh living conditions in order to help people who had been subject to slavery, mostly ruthlessly, and frequently fatally. His plan was to equip them with a means out of their predicament, by trading commodities as an alternative to labour and through faith-based societal teaching. His earlier trips were made together with his family, but as his divine mission increasingly obsessed him, he left behind those for whom he had responsibility where his wife became an isolated and depressed alcoholic.
It is difficult to find Good Intention exercised in one realm that has not had an adverse affect, to some extent, in another.
The latter character was, obviously, David Livingstone, whose surname is printed in bold letters across our kids’ school uniform. The first, Adolf Hitler and Volkswagen whose logo perpetually glares at me from the centre of my steering wheel.
The hero, the villain, and the side that we forget.
[1686:5230]
Wednesday 16 March 2011
Submission v Contract
I have recently been enjoying some thought-provoking dialogue on Facebook. David Grant in particular writes some very insightful stuff. Below is a comment I made on David Fisher's note - The Economy and the Book of Acts:
"I would say that the manner in which interdependence can be handled by a body of believers depends on which of the two models you subscribe to; one based on ‘submission’ or one based on ‘contract’.
Under ‘submission’, and in the event of disagreement, we ‘submit’ ourselves to the nominated individual(s). Under ‘contract’, we revert to what we had previously agreed.
Even though contracts are a little inflexible and require significant foresight to comprehensively create, my vote goes with the contract model.
Partly because of my struggle to find people with a broad enough biblical worldview and humble enough heart to submit to, but mostly because I believe that the concept of ‘mutual submission’ (i.e. ‘submit to one another’ (Ephesians 5)) is impossible.
Both paradigms are biblical (OK so we can just about justify anything as ‘biblical’). God’s agreement not to flood the Earth again (Genesis 9 the rainbow etc), the covenant of circumcision with his people (Genesis 17) and the new covenant made by the shedding of Jesus’ blood, which is remembered by ‘communion wine’ (Hebrews 9, Mark 14), are all significant contracts.
The notion of submission is a popular subject in the context of husbands and wives, though it is often and conveniently treated as contextually confusing by many. Submission to ‘kings’ etc is also biblical, but God’s attitude towards monarchy seems to be ‘well, you have kings, because you want kings … and everything that goes with them … so don’t complain, etc’.
The beauty of contracts is that they avoid ambiguous relationships, and the disappointments and emotional haemorrhaging suffered due to the steep differences between presumption and reality. I would say that it is actually difficult to ‘love’ deeply without contracts – leaving us with weak smiles and relational indifference in church gatherings.
I have contracts with God, with my wife, with the state, with insurance companies, with banks, with service providers, everybody except my kids(!). Sketchy relational definitions are insufficient in all aspects of current life in the UK, except amongst the church it seems.
I run a small business. What happens if some rich idiot decides to not pay his bill? Assuming the breach of contract is his, and not mine, he becomes my enemy and I fight him for justice in the courts. I cannot ‘turn the other cheek’ when I have dependents, and I cannot exercise ‘divine grace’ unless he acknowledges his wrongdoing before a mutually respected (or not!) judge. A bigger problem would arise if a poor idiot doesn’t pay a bill(!), or if I don’t succeed in obtaining justice in the courts. If I can still love him in my heart, through all this, I have won one for Jesus. That’s hard. What would happen to my family, employees, and suppliers? All the risks are agreed and understood contractually. I’d hope that the suppliers also had other customers. And the rest of us? maybe we’d go out for a Chinese and have a laugh about the fight?
Would I expect the church to bail me out? No. The Lord is my rear guard, not the church.
Contracts clarify any shared ‘risk’ amongst the body, which is important since faith and scriptural interpretation are unique to individuals. Hence my point that if a group wants to genuinely share each others’ loads, there would need to be a common starting point and openness about the baggage that is brought to the body, including debts, equity, investments, commitments (both financial and time), assets and maintenance burdens, number of dependants, etc. It would be a messy business, but how else could giving to the communal pot be ‘equally sacrificial’?
Just thoughts. Not my kind of thing really. All that time spent squabbling about entitlement; meanwhile life goes on for the rest of the unbelieving world. And who would be watching their backs?
For all of it’s flaws, a capitalist ‘free market’ economy is relatively impartial to the belief of the individual and that is important. Personally, I will only accept a biblical economic model as a pattern for global interdependence when someone gives me a coin from the mouth of a fish (Matthew 17).
Maybe we’d do better trying to find something that we can export to aliens?
[1643:5170]
"I would say that the manner in which interdependence can be handled by a body of believers depends on which of the two models you subscribe to; one based on ‘submission’ or one based on ‘contract’.
Under ‘submission’, and in the event of disagreement, we ‘submit’ ourselves to the nominated individual(s). Under ‘contract’, we revert to what we had previously agreed.
Even though contracts are a little inflexible and require significant foresight to comprehensively create, my vote goes with the contract model.
Partly because of my struggle to find people with a broad enough biblical worldview and humble enough heart to submit to, but mostly because I believe that the concept of ‘mutual submission’ (i.e. ‘submit to one another’ (Ephesians 5)) is impossible.
Both paradigms are biblical (OK so we can just about justify anything as ‘biblical’). God’s agreement not to flood the Earth again (Genesis 9 the rainbow etc), the covenant of circumcision with his people (Genesis 17) and the new covenant made by the shedding of Jesus’ blood, which is remembered by ‘communion wine’ (Hebrews 9, Mark 14), are all significant contracts.
The notion of submission is a popular subject in the context of husbands and wives, though it is often and conveniently treated as contextually confusing by many. Submission to ‘kings’ etc is also biblical, but God’s attitude towards monarchy seems to be ‘well, you have kings, because you want kings … and everything that goes with them … so don’t complain, etc’.
The beauty of contracts is that they avoid ambiguous relationships, and the disappointments and emotional haemorrhaging suffered due to the steep differences between presumption and reality. I would say that it is actually difficult to ‘love’ deeply without contracts – leaving us with weak smiles and relational indifference in church gatherings.
I have contracts with God, with my wife, with the state, with insurance companies, with banks, with service providers, everybody except my kids(!). Sketchy relational definitions are insufficient in all aspects of current life in the UK, except amongst the church it seems.
I run a small business. What happens if some rich idiot decides to not pay his bill? Assuming the breach of contract is his, and not mine, he becomes my enemy and I fight him for justice in the courts. I cannot ‘turn the other cheek’ when I have dependents, and I cannot exercise ‘divine grace’ unless he acknowledges his wrongdoing before a mutually respected (or not!) judge. A bigger problem would arise if a poor idiot doesn’t pay a bill(!), or if I don’t succeed in obtaining justice in the courts. If I can still love him in my heart, through all this, I have won one for Jesus. That’s hard. What would happen to my family, employees, and suppliers? All the risks are agreed and understood contractually. I’d hope that the suppliers also had other customers. And the rest of us? maybe we’d go out for a Chinese and have a laugh about the fight?
Would I expect the church to bail me out? No. The Lord is my rear guard, not the church.
Contracts clarify any shared ‘risk’ amongst the body, which is important since faith and scriptural interpretation are unique to individuals. Hence my point that if a group wants to genuinely share each others’ loads, there would need to be a common starting point and openness about the baggage that is brought to the body, including debts, equity, investments, commitments (both financial and time), assets and maintenance burdens, number of dependants, etc. It would be a messy business, but how else could giving to the communal pot be ‘equally sacrificial’?
Just thoughts. Not my kind of thing really. All that time spent squabbling about entitlement; meanwhile life goes on for the rest of the unbelieving world. And who would be watching their backs?
For all of it’s flaws, a capitalist ‘free market’ economy is relatively impartial to the belief of the individual and that is important. Personally, I will only accept a biblical economic model as a pattern for global interdependence when someone gives me a coin from the mouth of a fish (Matthew 17).
Maybe we’d do better trying to find something that we can export to aliens?
[1643:5170]
Sunday 6 February 2011
Freedom v Responsibility
"... I am not a free, autonomous individual. I am a son, husband, father, grandfather, neighbour, colleague, student, teacher, citizen, friend. I have a very large number of relational obligations and responsibilities, which severely constrain what I do. These responsibilities occasionally frustrate or annoy, they more often satisfy and they are always binding ... And my individuality, if anyone wishes to keep the concept, will come from the specific actions I take in meeting my relational responsibilities."
(Rosemont, H., Jr. (1998) Confucianism and Human Rights, Cambridge University Press)
[1612:5120]
(Rosemont, H., Jr. (1998) Confucianism and Human Rights, Cambridge University Press)
[1612:5120]
Unconscious Planet
"There is nothing that destroys the world and the consciousness of people faster than injustice" (Taymiyyah)
[1611:5105]
[1611:5105]
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