Whilst trawling the www for images, I happened on this painting entitled Trinity Sunday by a Russian named Valery Badakva.

I have been watching the Junior Apprentice on BBC1 (and rooting for Kirsty, my local Scot, who reminds me a bit of a minister friend of mine in Yorkshire).

What has struck me most, so far, has been the visibly more gentle Lord Sugar.  Still astute, still razor sharp and somewhat ascerbic in his comments, but ultimately kinder and almost fatherly, with great words of encouragement to those he has fired.  From what I read of him online, he is a great family man, a tad old-fashioned in regard to women and work it has to be said, and a great champion of young people.  I have always enjoyed The Apprentice (one of those rare excuses ministers get to call people stupid!) and usually, if not always, concur with the decisions made (I have even seen Sir Alan, as he then was, follow his heart rather than his head, which was quite endearing).

My old church, when asked to which TV programme they would compare themselves, chose The Apprentice on the basis that I was always setting them challenges.  Thankfully I wasn't seen as a Sir Alan character firing unsuccessful candidates or cutting people down with sharp remarks.  And of course there were no stupid people in my church anyway... some a bit low in confidence, many a bit fearful of fouling up, even a few who maybe didn't always get what we were about, but definitely not stupid.

In my more cynical moments I end up thinking that there are two unwritten rules for academic research:

• You can only have an idea if someone else has already written it down (the requirement for a citation for every second word!)
• You can only find support for your ideas from a prescribed corpus of works (those the academics like)

I know it isn't really quite like that, but it feels like it sometimes.

Today a book landed with a satisfying thud on my doormat, the purposes of which are anything but my research.  The 'good' thing is that it ticks the academic box so even if it says things that non-academics have already said (or, more properly that I read elsewhere first) at least it can now be appropriated for my own arguments.

Daniel L Migliore Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology, Grand Rapids, Michigan, Eerdman, 2004 2nd Edition, is as its title suggests a basic systematics, dogmatics or doctrine reference (which you call it depends on where you went to school!).  In the preface to the first edition the author writes:

The sole novelty in the presentation of topics is the inclusion of three imaginary dialogues of representative theologians and theological positions of the twentieth century.  The dialogue form is, I think, not only pedagogically appealing, but often captures the vitality of theological inquiry and th eopen-endedness of theological discussions much better than more conventional expositions.

Migliore, xvi

This model, albeit not expressed so clearly as Theologian A and Theologian B in discussion is not so far from what McLaren attempts in some of his popular writings, and is precisley the model used by the 17th century (English) Baptists, albeit that in each of these their protagonists and antagonists are pure constructs.  Of course Migliore's 'real theologians' are just as much constructs (his representation of a view of their views) but because of who and what they represent automatically (or at least more readily) acceptable in the academy.

So what?  So I think Migliore is offering me a suitable academic peg upon which to hang my hunch about a possible means of making material more accessible and accessed.  And I feel that he is just one more writer recognising that this approach has potential, so he fits into my 'you too' category, at least in this one regard.

I have just begun reading Brian McLaren's A New Kind of Christianity published this year.  So far so good... nothing that surprsies me but even so, worth continuing.

What has struck me is that in this book he makes mention of the theologians whose work has informed his writing.  It is striking because when I cited some of his earlier work in an essay I was (justifiably, if not entirely rightly imo) criticised over the status of my sources.  McLaren writes in a popular style rather than an academic style and is not, strictly speaking, a theologian.  This can lead to the purists dismissing, or at least looking down upon, his work.  In this latest book he notes the scholars whose work inspires his writing such as N T Wright, Marcus Borg, Walter Brueggemann, Gutierrez, Jon Sobrino etc.  Whether this will convince the purists that his writing has 'come of age' I have no idea.  What it does seem to suggest is that there may be a new kind of Christian writing that is both academcially rigorous and widely accessible... which is not unlike my endeavours for church history.  The challenge of accessibility is a big one, and worthy tomes on library shelves won't shift the people of God very far at all.  There is a connection to be made, carefully and creatively, so that the thoughts of the great and the intuitions of the rest of us can be related and then made availalbe to those who have neither time nor opporutity to do so themselves.

There is obviosluy a need for great academics, but there is also a great need for practical theologians... and it is the latter that I aspire to be.

So, Trinity Sunday is almost upon us, and with it my service called 'Lord of the Dance.'

Among other things we will be singing the song known in my family as 'The Dance Settee'

When we were small one of us, quite possibly me, but the origins are lost in the mists of time, came home from school and began to sing a song that included the line 'I am the Lord of the dance settee.'  And it stuck.  My nieces and nephews know it by this name, and great care is needed when Gortons and semi-Gortons are present not to slip into this form of words.

So if I mess it up on Sunday, forgive me.