After being entertained by the responses to one word in my last post - which I dare not repeat, even in quotation marks and with formal Chicago 15th B referencing, for fear of the wrath of Sean ( ;-) ) - I began thinking of the words, phrases and grammatical inaccuracies that really niggle me and wondering what does the same for other people.

Two words which really irritate me are 'methodology,' used when the intent is 'method' rather than its correct usage as 'the study of method,' and 'problematise' (or 'problematize' more often because we absolutely must use American spellings at every opportunity) which seems to be used pretty loosely to mean anything from critique to analyse to trying-to-sound-impressive-when-i-don't-quite-know-what-to-say.

I'm not keen on 'unpack' used when someone means 'could you explain that to me in more detail' and never really got to grips with using 'over against' which seems to be theological speak for 'as opposed to' or 'in contrast with.'

More generally I get annoyed with people saying 'different to' when correct English is 'different from' and 'similar to' and when people merrily interchange colons, semi-colons, commas and full stops saying "I never really know which to use."  Simple.  Use short sentences!  Or, simple: use short sentences. Or, simply use short sentences.  You get my drift!

I am told that it is now acceptable to boldly split infinitives; quite how one 'boldies' in a splitting manner, I have yet to grasp, and I continue to be irritated by said practice.

Some colloquial idiosyncracies that grate include double negatives, as in "I ain't got none" (ergo you must have some), the use of 'them' when the correct word would be 'those,' as in "them chairs" when it should be "those chairs," and adjectival poverty, such as the midlands use of 'nice' and Warrington use of 'gorgeous' for anything positive (or, worse, in the negative 'not gorgeous' - as I once heard said to a misbehaving child, "that behaviour is really not gorgeous.") .

But top of the irritants has to be the north west, and especially Warringtonian/Mancunian confusion of the words 'lend' and 'borrow' - expressions such as "can I lend your book?" or "I borrowed you my pen."  The correct answer to "can I lend your book?" would, presumably, be "to whom do you wish to lend it?" As for borrowing someone my possessions, that is just plain nonsense!

Anyone want to add what annoys them?

By default, this is becoming a new modus operandum for 2008.  I have a number of women who work part time or are younger retired, and a number of others who are currently off work with long term medical conditions.  The former have cars, time and flexibility, the latter have empty days, cabin fever and lots of anxiety.  So, the plan is simple - get a car load of them, find a cheap cafe or a pub with a good lunchtime deal and take them out.  No holy holy stuff, just practical caring (I just remembered I didn't say grace today, oh how evil a minister I am!  Not.).

I also from time to time do home communions, always taking someone with me because it is the church (fellowship) not the minister who. theologically, does this.  Yesterday the person I was visiting invited me for lunch, which was, afterall, far more communion than a bit of crumbly bread and a sip of juice.  We chatted about this and that, and support and love were shared.

What I hope, as I build and extend this model a bit, drawing in those for whom an evening meal or a weekend brunch might be better, is that rather than building little cliques, people will begin to do the same for each other, building relationships and growing in community.

I have never liked the cup of tea with the old lady model of pastoral visiting, which feels artificial and unhelpful.  The host, on their best behaviour gets out the china cup for the 'vicar' and after the designated 30/60minutes including a prayer of the 'we four and no more variety', the vicar leaves.  Whilst I do appreciate that good pastoral relationships can be built from regular, cyclic visitation, I was never, ever, visited by a minister, and it isn't something that I find in my gifting.  But getting groups of folk - 2's and 3's - to talk and encourage each other on an ad hoc basis, seems to me a workable middle course.

Of course this could prove disastrous for my waistline, such as it is, but it seems a good cause... 

The title of a paper I found, written by E Harris Harbison and published in Church History in 1952 which sounds as if it pulls together some of my ideas and questions.

The writer described a similar situation to the one in the Gilkey paper I posted on yesterday, then goes on to consider what this might mean for the writing of history.

He begins thus...

If we ask what effect all this has had upon the actual writing of history, upon those who make their living by historical teaching and research, or what effect it may be expected to have upon them in the visible future, the answer may simply be "none."  The ordinary professional historian is usually a practicing positivist.  If he has a philosophy of history, he feels uneasy about it, particularly in the presence of his colleagues.  Carl Becker once wrote that he would "not willingly charge a reputable historian with a Philosophy of History" - and a Theology of History would probably be an even an more heinous charge.  But historians are remarkably sensitive to what goes on across academic fences.  At one time or another they have owed much, both in the way of conceptual framework and of methodology, to Renaissance Humanism, Newtonian physics, Darwinian biology, Freudian psychology, and recently, the social sciences.  It is not beyond possibility that they may be influenced sooner or later by what transpires from the camp of theologians.

Church History Vol 21, No 2, Jun 1952 p102-3

 

He then offers four effects which he perceives as 'already becoming clear'

1. A new interest in the history of the Christian understanding of history
2. New insights into the history of Christian thought and institutions
3. A more sympathtic approach to the treatment of Christianity by secular historians
4. An increasing tendency by Christian historians to make their Christian presuppositions more explicit

Half a century later, I wonder what he would say about these ideas.

My recent reading on Bibilical hermeneutics (Murray Rae) suggested use of theological categories for interpretting history.  This idea - which was intriguing - seemed to be presented as novel, yet reading papers published 25-50 years ago, it is all already there.  I am not sure that an interest in the 'history of Christian understandings of history' is all that well established, let alone that there is all that much recent work (though obviously I'd need to check that out).  There is some interest, for sure, but not loads.

I'm not totally sure what he means by item 2, but it seems to suggest studies in the theologies of the great and good - Luther is given as an example.  Certainly there is always this kind of thing going on, and the Paternoster series of Studies in Baptist History and Thought in name as a minimum, and I'm sure more so in fact, fits this category.

Item three, I don't feel qualified to comment upon, though a recent conversation with a practising Christian Church Historian and theologian elicited a comment to this effect.  It will be interesting for those alive a century from now to see how sympathetic or otherwise historians are in recording events early this century, espceically where religious fundamentalism is involved...

Lastly, I am far from convinced that his fourth suggestion is evident in the Baptist history I read, or certainly not in the sense of an evident eschatalogical viewpoint or use of theological language or concepts. 

The paper ends with these sentences...

Whether [a Christian understanding of the 'meaning of history'] will appreciably affect the writing of history in the next generation may depend upon the turn taken by world events.  A tragic turn will almost certainly increase the numbers of those members of the historical profession who seek the meaning of tragedy in the Christian understanding of history

op cit page 106

 

Post 9/11 and 7/7, post Rwanda, post tsunami, post the African AIDS pandemic... how much tragedy does it need?  And would it now be a Christian 'meaning of history' that would be adopted?  And if so would that be a western Christian view?  I guess Harbison could not have conceived the multi-cultural, pluralist, post-everything situation of the early 21st century.  I am not convinced that, beyond a few 'narrow shallows' who see all tragedy as 'signs of the end times' (or, in the fictional world of Messiah, create tragedy to endeavour to hasten the end) that this is so.

So, overall, I am none the wiser on 'how' to write history that is more helpfully, overtly theological, only aware that there is a long line of others who think/thought it ought to be feasible!

Or, how does your understanding of the End Times affect the way you read, write or approach human history?

Oops, sorry, forgot to put the health warning first.  Normal readers, look away NOW!

This question seems to me to be important in a variety of ways, and has arisen from a paper I was reading today with the snappy title of Reinhold Neibuhr's Theology of History by someone called Langdon Gilkey and published back in 1974.  The paper compares and contrasts Neibuhr's views with those of other C20 theologians such as Pannenberg, Moltmann, Gutierrez and a pile of others I'm too ignorant to have heard of.  It is quite a complex paper (or at least I found it so) but the key to it seems to be the way we relate our understanding of the eschaton to the path of human history, and how we we see God's relationship with creation in all this.  Threads of process theology run through the arguments, and words like 'grace' 'judgement' and 'freedom' abound.

So, I am going to try to note the things it's made me think about before I forget them again.

Firstly, the eschaton, and eschatology.  How do we understand these terms in practical terms?  Do we have some kind of 'realised eschatology' (which I have to confess to never having really got my head around as a concept) or one that is still to come?  And whichever of these we have, is it about a perfect and/or new heaven and earth or something else?  You might think the answers to these are obvious, and perhaps they are, but they will affect the way you understand human history and human behaviour on a wider scale.

If we anticpate that at the Eschaton (or the end of time, or whatever) that humanity will attain perfection, then we end up with something not a milliom miles from the 'myth of Progress' model of academic history.  In this model, later is better, and it is possible to argue that sin can be equated with devotion to present and past and a closing of minds to what is to come.  This, the writer argues is what theologians other than Neibuhr tend to do.  I guess this is a kind of Pauline 'forgetting what is past I press on towards the goal' approach to the past, which renders the past irrelevent because now we are more perfect than we used to be.  If I can caricature somewhat, this model seems to have God as a kind of divine coach standing just beyond the temporal finishing line urging us on and telling us not to look back.  If this is what we believe - and to some extent I suspect most of us do - then it cannot but impact on how we tell the story of the past and how much (or little!) import we give it.

Neibuhr's approach is rather different, and centres on the idea of transcendence, and of God somehow involved all through human history rather than standing at the end of it beckoning us on.  Furthermore, even for humans there is potential to trasncend our own circumstances and reflect upon them.  In this model the idea of human experience getting more and more close to perfection as history (chronologically) unfolds is not inevitable, though it is possible, if only we are able to grasp it.  Rather than an inevitable end point, perfection becomes a horizon against which we can measure reality.  In this model, human sinfulness is part of our makeup and therefore no matter when, chronologically, we live, we have the same potential for sin.  Perhaps again with dear old Paul, we may find it to be a natural 'law' that despite our best efforts we foul up, failing to do the good we want to do and doing the wrong we don't want to do.  In this model, rather than sin being about being bound to the past, it is about being open to the potential of the future - which is full of possibilities, good, bad and indifferent.  If this is so, then our past is more obviously relevent to us in our thinking - as we 'transcend' it and reflect upon it, it can inform the choices we make as we go into the future, as (I think) God enables us to see and understand better.  Again depending on how much we relate to this model - and, again, I think that to some extent we probably all do - it will impact our reading and writing of our past.

I suspect that it is never quite as easy as the 'either/or' constructed by someone way cleverer than I am (and it is highly possible I've completely misundertsood this paper!) but really more of a 'both/and.'  Why might God not be both beyond the end of time, beckoning or luring (or whatever) us on and breaking into time with what gets referred to as 'special revelation'?  Surely the concepts of grace, sin, justice, atonement, and resurrection used in the writer's detailed discussion of these models can speak into both views, albeit maybe in different ways?

This kind of leads to the second area of thought, which relates to the use of theological language or categories in writing about church history.  The themes of sin and grace, especially, seem to crop up quite often in this kind of paper, but not in the history books I read.  In other words, it seems that there is some good confidence that such language can be used when history is abstract, a general term for the sum total of human experience perhaps, but when it comes down to particular, or specific, examples, we cease to be comfortable in so doing.  Intuitively this seems both a good thing and a bad thing.  It is good in so far as any human endeavour to identify what is 'sin' or 'grace' is fallible - indeed open to sins such as pride, judgementalism and so on.  On the other hand, it is  bad, because we get a story that is perhaps agnostic or a-theist in the sense of a 'lack of God.'  So is there a happy medium?  Maybe if the writer or reader can hold in mind such categories, consciously and with appropriate humility, then the hints of the divine will be evident or glimpsed.  I have to say, that whilst I'd love to find a way of writing God into the story that doesn't read like triumphalism or the ubiquitous 'Kingsway paperback', I am as yet far from convinced that it is achievable.

I am still far from having a clue what a 'more useful for congrgeational theological reflection' hsiotry might look like, but it has been helpful to be reminded that our theology of history - however implicit and undeveloped (as I think mine probably is) that might be - is an important factor to bring into consciousness in our writing and reading of history.  I think if I am honest, I can't see a long path towards perfection in human history and am left with some kind of inbreaking of God at the end of time as we know it to 'make all things new.'  But that doesn't mean I can't be inspired to aim for that perfection, to seek for better self-understanding, to search for the mind of Christ in shaping individual and church life as I walk the chronological path of history.  Further, other concepts, such as 'kairos moments' may also have something to say in all of this.

As I have typed away I have found the words of a hymn coming to mind...

The Church of Christ in every age

Beset by change, but Spirit-led,

Must claim and test its heritage

And keep on rising from the dead.

 

This hymn, by F Pratt Green seems to me to express hints of both strands of theology Gilkey discusses in his paper; whilst it is quite political and liberation focussed, echoes of both atonement and resurrection can be found in later verses.

So, at the end of all this, what have I learned?  Probably that I need, at some point, and not too far in to the future, to think more carefully about my 'theology of history' and how it impacts, for good and ill, upon my work in this field.

The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is 100 years old apparently.  This year I attended the most - apologies - monotonous and boring united service for this purpose I have been to in many a long year.  The ecumenism extended to the readings being done by myself and a retired Methodist, whilst the current Methodist preached and the vicar did everything else.  The service itself was incredibly wordy - printed liturgy at its worst - and the creativity and mutli-sensory activities we've used in the last four years were conspicuously absent.

Looking at it another way, ecumenism was lacking in terms of numerical representation - around half a dozen Methodists, half a dozen Anglicans (in their own building for goodness sake) and a couple of dozen Baptists.  That's sad too.  My people are starting to comment quite a lot - and rightly - that everywhere we go we out number the hosts.  What does that say about us and about others?

I'm not an advocate of organic union (i.e. one single church with one way of doing church organsiation) because I'm not convinced that at this point in history - if ever (I'm not convinced it existed in Bible times) - that is helpful or healthy.  But I am quite passionate about ecumenism, I do think that we honour Christ more in unity than division.

Overall, then, I am disappointed in today and not at all convinced we made any inroads in answering Christ's prayer of John 17.