I am thinking about this song right now. My Year Ten History class have been listening to it as a way of remembering the names and story of the Wave Hill protest and it's making me remember some other stories. Like Jesus' ones about the mustard seed and the yeast. From little things big things grow.
It's the way the world works and it's direct evidence that goodness is much bigger and quieter than noisy, ineffectual evil and destruction. And yet my mind insists on defaulting back to the assumption that I need to see or do this or that RIGHT NOW, witness immediate effects, and if I don't then I'm doing something wrong.
Two minutes ago I saw evidence of that big, quiet goodness residing in and working away through a Year Ten boy whom I have despaired over many times this year. What does it mean God? Are you bigger (and quieter) than the sadness and waste I'm confronted with in these teenagers' lives? Are you still present and working away? Can goodness work away right next to evil?
And am I so lucky, have I become so used to a glut of goodness in the people around me that I am unable to see it quietly working in my kids?
It makes me want to stop. And breathe. And rest in the small acts (very small) towards goodness that I am able to do.
And you can take those small acts, watered with the kind of despair that chooses to trust something bigger than itself anyway. And if we wait...
Showing posts with label foolish wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foolish wisdom. Show all posts
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
some thoughts from Chapter 3
I am in love. And I have been reading this book. Being in love threatens to distract me from really thinking through the concepts in this book, but I really want to understand them so it's as though God is using this book to teach me about the stuff in the book, but also about how being in love is very different to loving, leaping, trusting, watching and learning...
So here are some of the really good thoughts from Chapter 3:
"...doubt not only can be seen as an inevitable aspect of our humanity but can also be celebrated as a vital part of faith... the believer who encounters serious doubt does not renounce his or her faith but rather uses it a an opportunity to affirm it... Only a genuine faith can embrace doubt, for such a faith does not act because of self interested reason (such as fear of hell or desire of heaven) but acts simply because it must.... celebrate this dark night of the soul, understanding that this is not a threatening darkness which conceals an enemy but rather is the intimate darkness within which we embrace our faith."
"If we are to guess a motive for Jesus' miracles, then we would have to think that he performed them out of love rather than as a means of compelling belief... Instead of religious discourse being a type of drink designed to satisfy our thirst for answers, Jesus made his teaching salty, evoking thirst. Instead of offering a scientific explanation that would convince, or publicising the miracles so as to compel his listeners, Jesus engaged in a poetic discourse that spoke to the heart of those who would listen..."
"The silence that is part of all God-talk is not the silence of banality, indifference or ignorance but one that stands in awe of God... the Christian faith is extrapolated via a powerless discourse which, at its most evangelical, attempts to create a space in which others can seek for themselves... our approach must be a powerless one which employs words as a way of saying that we have been left utterly breathless by a beauty that surpasses all words... we use words in order to tear through them and glimpse at what lies beneath..."
extracts from How (not) to speak of God by Peter Rollins, SPCK Press, London, 2006
So here are some of the really good thoughts from Chapter 3:
"...doubt not only can be seen as an inevitable aspect of our humanity but can also be celebrated as a vital part of faith... the believer who encounters serious doubt does not renounce his or her faith but rather uses it a an opportunity to affirm it... Only a genuine faith can embrace doubt, for such a faith does not act because of self interested reason (such as fear of hell or desire of heaven) but acts simply because it must.... celebrate this dark night of the soul, understanding that this is not a threatening darkness which conceals an enemy but rather is the intimate darkness within which we embrace our faith."
"If we are to guess a motive for Jesus' miracles, then we would have to think that he performed them out of love rather than as a means of compelling belief... Instead of religious discourse being a type of drink designed to satisfy our thirst for answers, Jesus made his teaching salty, evoking thirst. Instead of offering a scientific explanation that would convince, or publicising the miracles so as to compel his listeners, Jesus engaged in a poetic discourse that spoke to the heart of those who would listen..."
"The silence that is part of all God-talk is not the silence of banality, indifference or ignorance but one that stands in awe of God... the Christian faith is extrapolated via a powerless discourse which, at its most evangelical, attempts to create a space in which others can seek for themselves... our approach must be a powerless one which employs words as a way of saying that we have been left utterly breathless by a beauty that surpasses all words... we use words in order to tear through them and glimpse at what lies beneath..."
extracts from How (not) to speak of God by Peter Rollins, SPCK Press, London, 2006
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
when a retreat comes to visit
The last couple of days have been blissful.
Peace. Quiet. Stories. Joy. Cheese. Guitar.
Most members of our community have gone away for the first week of school holidays. Only David Orozco and I are left to represent Cornerstone (apart from a couple of plants and animals). I do miss the others (because they are the greatest community a girl could ask to be part of). But it doesn't happen very often that I get a couple of days to myself (probably because I know so many wondrful people that I long to see and hang out with). I have really enjoyed the pace the last few days... a few welcome visits from friends occasionally interrupting a leisurely solitude filled with reading, singing, cooking and cleaning, contemplation and conversation with... well the one who has shared it all with me to begin with.
How lucky am I? I didn't plan this retreat, it planned me!
Peace. Quiet. Stories. Joy. Cheese. Guitar.
Most members of our community have gone away for the first week of school holidays. Only David Orozco and I are left to represent Cornerstone (apart from a couple of plants and animals). I do miss the others (because they are the greatest community a girl could ask to be part of). But it doesn't happen very often that I get a couple of days to myself (probably because I know so many wondrful people that I long to see and hang out with). I have really enjoyed the pace the last few days... a few welcome visits from friends occasionally interrupting a leisurely solitude filled with reading, singing, cooking and cleaning, contemplation and conversation with... well the one who has shared it all with me to begin with.
How lucky am I? I didn't plan this retreat, it planned me!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Hunger games
A new book I am reading. It is addictive. I'm not sure how good it is yet. But it is definitely addictive.
I have been thinking a lot about a quote from a very good book indeed, LotR. Tolkien thought the image was important enough to include it twice (once in a dream at Tom Bombadil's and then at the Grey Havens). Though I really didn't understand it when I first read the book, it is becoming important to me now.
And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled sweet frangrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.
I love the image of the grey haven and the rain receding behind the ship, while the shore and the morning sun approach. The atmosphere feels familiar, except I am always in the rain, looking forward...
I wonder if that is what my life looks like to God. Just as human lives seem to be a passing dream to the elves in LotR, perhaps my grey self is receding quickly under the light of eternity. It just feels so wretchedly slow to me.
Maybe I can begin to wake to this kind of life now? Do I dare to hope that my waking is watched over eagerly, by one who longs for my eyes to be opened and filled with light today?
Or must I, like Frodo, wait until my journey is over, my task complete, my quest has been settled? Oh, I am hungry for the light of Aman to be in my eyes.
I have been thinking a lot about a quote from a very good book indeed, LotR. Tolkien thought the image was important enough to include it twice (once in a dream at Tom Bombadil's and then at the Grey Havens). Though I really didn't understand it when I first read the book, it is becoming important to me now.
And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled sweet frangrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.
I love the image of the grey haven and the rain receding behind the ship, while the shore and the morning sun approach. The atmosphere feels familiar, except I am always in the rain, looking forward...
I wonder if that is what my life looks like to God. Just as human lives seem to be a passing dream to the elves in LotR, perhaps my grey self is receding quickly under the light of eternity. It just feels so wretchedly slow to me.
Maybe I can begin to wake to this kind of life now? Do I dare to hope that my waking is watched over eagerly, by one who longs for my eyes to be opened and filled with light today?
Or must I, like Frodo, wait until my journey is over, my task complete, my quest has been settled? Oh, I am hungry for the light of Aman to be in my eyes.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
historyhistoryhistory
In a desperate attempt to prove myself not to be an incompetent teacher I have just spent FIVE hours creating a website for Vietnam revision for my Year 10 History class. Now I really need to ask myself what audience I'm living for, because I am sure that said Year 10 History class will hardly even read all the information I have so carefully constructed, let alone properly complete the actvities and glean appropriate information from them.
They would probably rather if I just put notes up on the board for them to copy down.
ARRRGH! When will I learn to become a better augur of my students' true needs?
In the meantime my understanding of who I am comes not from hormonal teen wenches, but from one who knows when and how I will become a better follower of the highest, and believes that I CAN do it!
They would probably rather if I just put notes up on the board for them to copy down.
ARRRGH! When will I learn to become a better augur of my students' true needs?
In the meantime my understanding of who I am comes not from hormonal teen wenches, but from one who knows when and how I will become a better follower of the highest, and believes that I CAN do it!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Cir-Jester
A
Cross
between
Circus
and
Jester
With some additional nuances of "Sir Jester" with 'suggester' and even 'surgEaster'...
In medieval and early modern europe, the fool played a specific role. His foolishness could shine a light, send a message, speak into the darkness. The fool was allowed license to move beyond the conventions of society, but it was a risky job, and a lonely job. He had no wealth, physical or legal power over other citizens, socially he was at the bottom of the rung. But he could use any other tool at his disposal, and he often relied on humour and storytelling which would help new ideas to germinate in the minds of the audience...
Some hated the fool, as Malvolio hated Feste in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. Some would plot against him. But nothing could stop his message, because it relied not on indoctrination, but on inspiration. Such a message cannot be stopped by force. Only apathy can bring this kind of inspiration to a halt.
To those who are willing to play the fool to spread a message, is given a similar power of germination.
Today in our staffroom one of the teachers made the throw-away comment that she thought April Fool's Day would fall on Good Friday this year. She thought it would be fairly funny if that was the case. I didn't know what to say. Then I remembered Paul Walker sent us the lyric to a song called, 'The April Fool'. And I remembered that Jesus' conscious choice to die on a cross does look very foolish to many. But it seems to have been the kind of foolish act that still has power today. The message of the April Fool continues to germinate and live in the minds and hearts of his followers millenia after the historical event.
I feel excited and scared about the idea of spending eight days living with this concept. Excited about the ideas that could be germinating, and scared to look foolish :/
Cross
between
Circus
and
Jester
With some additional nuances of "Sir Jester" with 'suggester' and even 'surgEaster'...
In medieval and early modern europe, the fool played a specific role. His foolishness could shine a light, send a message, speak into the darkness. The fool was allowed license to move beyond the conventions of society, but it was a risky job, and a lonely job. He had no wealth, physical or legal power over other citizens, socially he was at the bottom of the rung. But he could use any other tool at his disposal, and he often relied on humour and storytelling which would help new ideas to germinate in the minds of the audience...
Some hated the fool, as Malvolio hated Feste in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. Some would plot against him. But nothing could stop his message, because it relied not on indoctrination, but on inspiration. Such a message cannot be stopped by force. Only apathy can bring this kind of inspiration to a halt.
To those who are willing to play the fool to spread a message, is given a similar power of germination.
Today in our staffroom one of the teachers made the throw-away comment that she thought April Fool's Day would fall on Good Friday this year. She thought it would be fairly funny if that was the case. I didn't know what to say. Then I remembered Paul Walker sent us the lyric to a song called, 'The April Fool'. And I remembered that Jesus' conscious choice to die on a cross does look very foolish to many. But it seems to have been the kind of foolish act that still has power today. The message of the April Fool continues to germinate and live in the minds and hearts of his followers millenia after the historical event.
I feel excited and scared about the idea of spending eight days living with this concept. Excited about the ideas that could be germinating, and scared to look foolish :/
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