Such a long silent time. Will it ever end?
The essay has been handed in (a whole month ago now). We have visas (only for a year); we have plane tickets. Our boxes have been shipped. The MAC Conference is over. We didn't make it to Brisbane but were sick for two weeks instead. We had 3 days holiday, during which we discovered that Levor is exhausted. We have plane tickets to Brisbane for a weekend in August. Levor did a mountain of marking. These activities have gobbled all our time over the last month.
Still to do... lots of admin type things so we can leave the country. An immense amount of catching up with people before we leave. A women's retreat this weekend (at which I am speaking three times). A lot of emails to respond to. Trips to Brisbane, Canberra and possibly Melbourne to sort out. Another women's retreat in August to plan and sort out sermons. Organising, packing and storing our stuff. And Levor has more marking.
I thought the time after the essay would be relatively relaxed. I am officially delusional.
Tuesday, 24 July 2007
Tuesday, 19 June 2007
Superpowers
I have been silent (and therefore golden) for several weeks. As my fan club, (thank you, thank you very much, I love you all), have been duly occupied with the affairs of life (congrats to Syn and CP btw on their little Samgee), I figured I could sink quietly into the background with little fuss. But now, I feel I can blog again. There are several reasons for this.
First, I am 500 words shy of finishing my essay, and it looks like it might be finished by the due date. Second, most of my other projects are now complete. Third, I don't have to worry about accidentally mentioning that we are expecting a child, because now we are telling people. Being us, we're doing a fairly pathetic job of it, with a long list of people on the back of our study door whom we have yet to contact. But it means I can say it 'out loud' here. Most of you already knew anyway, but hey.
Which brings me to the point of this post. I really enjoy being pregnant, not just because I really want a baby, but because it gives you superpowers. I also haven't been sick, which probably has rather a lot to do with it. But the superpowers I have are cool... I have:
1. Cat napping ability
I get tired. So, I lie down and go to sleep. I wake when I am rested (it was three hours the other day!), and get up. I am not groggy or sluggish, but I'm ready for the next round of whatever. And it doesn't disrupt my sleeping patterns. This is how cats live. It's a great way to live.
2. Idiocy identification
I can spot an idiot from a distance. I knew there were idiots before, and occasionally I ran across them and would experience frustration and annoyance. But I never knew they were everywhere. There should be warnings! Even Levor commented the other day that I was quite irritable, demonstrating that he has moments of idiocy. I am surrounded by idiots.
3. Carniverosity
I like meat. I have never liked meat. And now I don't just like meat, but I like meatlovers type meat. I eat rissoles, steak sandwiches, chipolatas and even pick the bones clean of the other meat I eat. It's not just that I can eat it, which I do with vegetables as I force the necessary 5 serves down my throat each day. It's that I like meat. I even rang Levor at work just to explain how good a steak sandwich was.
4. Heat generation
This is one of my favourites. I wander around cold in winter. I have a doona on as soon as Autumn starts to cool the weather down. I actually quite like winter, but I just get cold. Now, I'm not that cold. This is good, because if things go well and we leave for England in September, we will have only autumn and winter for a year. So, hopefully for a huge chunk of that I will be cosy.
I'm not sure the Fantastic Four would accept me, but I enjoy my superpowers.
First, I am 500 words shy of finishing my essay, and it looks like it might be finished by the due date. Second, most of my other projects are now complete. Third, I don't have to worry about accidentally mentioning that we are expecting a child, because now we are telling people. Being us, we're doing a fairly pathetic job of it, with a long list of people on the back of our study door whom we have yet to contact. But it means I can say it 'out loud' here. Most of you already knew anyway, but hey.
Which brings me to the point of this post. I really enjoy being pregnant, not just because I really want a baby, but because it gives you superpowers. I also haven't been sick, which probably has rather a lot to do with it. But the superpowers I have are cool... I have:
1. Cat napping ability
I get tired. So, I lie down and go to sleep. I wake when I am rested (it was three hours the other day!), and get up. I am not groggy or sluggish, but I'm ready for the next round of whatever. And it doesn't disrupt my sleeping patterns. This is how cats live. It's a great way to live.
2. Idiocy identification
I can spot an idiot from a distance. I knew there were idiots before, and occasionally I ran across them and would experience frustration and annoyance. But I never knew they were everywhere. There should be warnings! Even Levor commented the other day that I was quite irritable, demonstrating that he has moments of idiocy. I am surrounded by idiots.
3. Carniverosity
I like meat. I have never liked meat. And now I don't just like meat, but I like meatlovers type meat. I eat rissoles, steak sandwiches, chipolatas and even pick the bones clean of the other meat I eat. It's not just that I can eat it, which I do with vegetables as I force the necessary 5 serves down my throat each day. It's that I like meat. I even rang Levor at work just to explain how good a steak sandwich was.
4. Heat generation
This is one of my favourites. I wander around cold in winter. I have a doona on as soon as Autumn starts to cool the weather down. I actually quite like winter, but I just get cold. Now, I'm not that cold. This is good, because if things go well and we leave for England in September, we will have only autumn and winter for a year. So, hopefully for a huge chunk of that I will be cosy.
I'm not sure the Fantastic Four would accept me, but I enjoy my superpowers.
Friday, 25 May 2007
Morse, Life and Death
I watched Inspector Morse with Levor a few weeks ago. This is nothing new. We are slowly working our way through the series and thoroughly enjoying them. It's something about a character driven drama and good casting and scripts. And theme music which takes one's breath away.
As we come to the end of the series (we have two to go), Morse is actually having to be half-decent to Lewis in order for Lewis to stick with him, which is creating an interesting dynamic in itself, and leads to many moments when Morse realises that he's somehow caused offense. His reaction is of pained surprise, which is so entertaining.
During the last episode we watched Morse has to let Lewis have one of these moments (where Lewis is right and Morse isn't), because his behaviour has been fairly unpleasant and he's come to realise it. The moment is interesting. A woman has died, shot by Morse as she was in the act of attempting to murder Lewis. She has had a truly awful life and is quite confused. Her life from that point would be lived in psychiatric facilities or prison, because she has murdered a number of people in cold blood. Lewis comments: "She's at peace now." Morse screws up his face to protest and thinks better of it, so Lewis gets the last word.
But it struck me that Morse was here representing an almost vanished view of life. That is, that the life this woman had, for all its sadness and difficulty and with all its potential thwarted is still better than no life.
It is better to be alive than dead. I don't think this is believed anymore by my generation or the next. Quality of life, self-awareness and so forth have replaced life. Just being alive is a good thing. And of course, Christians believe that this good thing is a gift from God, and that it should not be taken for granted. It's much easier to believe that death is easier and better, lulled by the distant music of the Romantic movement:
'....I did think it rich to die
to cease upon the midnight with no pain...'
and many similiar ideas fit with our view of death. Death is a good thing; a sweet release.
But death isn't. Death is the time of no more chances, of separation that can't be fixed, of no more words or whispers, of no more connection with others. Death rips away from us our heart's desire and takes from us those we struggle to relate with in the middle of the struggle, leaving us always with a sense of irresolution and unfinished business. It is the nature of death to damage us this way.
There are grey areas, certainly where pain and brain function make it hard to work out even when death is present. But this is on the edge of the debate after we've worked out what we think about life and death in themselves. These determine how we can proceed in other areas. So, this is my opinion on the central issue. Life is good. Even if your experience of it is less than ideal (and it is likely to be in this world). Life is a gift. No-one should take it away from you. No-one should threaten it's continuance. No-one should say that it is worth less than their life.
On this one, I'm with Morse.
As we come to the end of the series (we have two to go), Morse is actually having to be half-decent to Lewis in order for Lewis to stick with him, which is creating an interesting dynamic in itself, and leads to many moments when Morse realises that he's somehow caused offense. His reaction is of pained surprise, which is so entertaining.
During the last episode we watched Morse has to let Lewis have one of these moments (where Lewis is right and Morse isn't), because his behaviour has been fairly unpleasant and he's come to realise it. The moment is interesting. A woman has died, shot by Morse as she was in the act of attempting to murder Lewis. She has had a truly awful life and is quite confused. Her life from that point would be lived in psychiatric facilities or prison, because she has murdered a number of people in cold blood. Lewis comments: "She's at peace now." Morse screws up his face to protest and thinks better of it, so Lewis gets the last word.
But it struck me that Morse was here representing an almost vanished view of life. That is, that the life this woman had, for all its sadness and difficulty and with all its potential thwarted is still better than no life.
It is better to be alive than dead. I don't think this is believed anymore by my generation or the next. Quality of life, self-awareness and so forth have replaced life. Just being alive is a good thing. And of course, Christians believe that this good thing is a gift from God, and that it should not be taken for granted. It's much easier to believe that death is easier and better, lulled by the distant music of the Romantic movement:
'....I did think it rich to die
to cease upon the midnight with no pain...'
and many similiar ideas fit with our view of death. Death is a good thing; a sweet release.
But death isn't. Death is the time of no more chances, of separation that can't be fixed, of no more words or whispers, of no more connection with others. Death rips away from us our heart's desire and takes from us those we struggle to relate with in the middle of the struggle, leaving us always with a sense of irresolution and unfinished business. It is the nature of death to damage us this way.
There are grey areas, certainly where pain and brain function make it hard to work out even when death is present. But this is on the edge of the debate after we've worked out what we think about life and death in themselves. These determine how we can proceed in other areas. So, this is my opinion on the central issue. Life is good. Even if your experience of it is less than ideal (and it is likely to be in this world). Life is a gift. No-one should take it away from you. No-one should threaten it's continuance. No-one should say that it is worth less than their life.
On this one, I'm with Morse.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
Australian History List
Here are some details from Australian History which I find either scandalous or amusing...
1. One of the suggested names for Canberra was 'Aryan Town'
2. Gov. Grose would not let the soldiers marry their mistresses because they were ex-convicts and so, beneath the soldiers' station.
3. In World War 2, Britain tried to defend Singapore with two aging battleships. Not too surprisingly they were unsuccesful and Australia had to find a new alliance (with a country slightly more interested in the Pacific).
4. Protestants were involved in the subscription for the first Catholic chapel in the colony.
5. Lang was the only person who thought the Aboriginal people should be converted and not first civilised in the 19th Century. Of course, no one listened.
6. A baptist preacher was sued by the Herald in Sydney for asserting that Aboriginal people were human beings.
7. For a period of time, the economy of the colony was rum. That paper money ain't good for anything! We're not a country of alcoholics. Not us.
8. The highest percentage increase in any place or at any time for Methodism was in the late 1800's on the Victorian goldfields.
9. Lutheran churches were burnt down during WWI, pastors imprisoned and general persecutions against Lutherans took place. Most were generations-old Australians, but because their church services were conducted in German this was considered a betrayal of England. Many German names were changed to their English equivalents during this time.
10. The most awful problems caused to the Aboriginal people were as a result of Social Darwinism adopted by the government (and many missions) in the mid 1800's.
There you go. There's nothing like a few random facts to brighten one's day. I hope yours is glowing.
1. One of the suggested names for Canberra was 'Aryan Town'
2. Gov. Grose would not let the soldiers marry their mistresses because they were ex-convicts and so, beneath the soldiers' station.
3. In World War 2, Britain tried to defend Singapore with two aging battleships. Not too surprisingly they were unsuccesful and Australia had to find a new alliance (with a country slightly more interested in the Pacific).
4. Protestants were involved in the subscription for the first Catholic chapel in the colony.
5. Lang was the only person who thought the Aboriginal people should be converted and not first civilised in the 19th Century. Of course, no one listened.
6. A baptist preacher was sued by the Herald in Sydney for asserting that Aboriginal people were human beings.
7. For a period of time, the economy of the colony was rum. That paper money ain't good for anything! We're not a country of alcoholics. Not us.
8. The highest percentage increase in any place or at any time for Methodism was in the late 1800's on the Victorian goldfields.
9. Lutheran churches were burnt down during WWI, pastors imprisoned and general persecutions against Lutherans took place. Most were generations-old Australians, but because their church services were conducted in German this was considered a betrayal of England. Many German names were changed to their English equivalents during this time.
10. The most awful problems caused to the Aboriginal people were as a result of Social Darwinism adopted by the government (and many missions) in the mid 1800's.
There you go. There's nothing like a few random facts to brighten one's day. I hope yours is glowing.
Friday, 18 May 2007
Righteous Woman and Inscrutable Man
Righteous Woman looked out through the muslin curtains as the sun sank into the far distant hills. The light danced away towards the vanishing sun like sheep being called home by their shepherd at the end of a long day. She sighed contentedly, looking over at her new fiance, Inscrutable Man. He was deeply ensconced in a book and had been for some time. She wandered around the room, lighting the candles. Inscrutable Man startled her by glancing up suddenly from his book and saying: "…there is not a correspondence and similarity of being, an analogia entis. The being of God cannot be compared with that of man. But it is not a question of this twofold being. It is a question of the relationship within the being of God on the one side and between the being of God and that of man on the other. Between these two relationships as such – and it is in this sense that the second is the image of the first – there is correspondence and similarity. There is an analogia relationis."
"Yes dear. How very remarkable!" soothed Righteous Woman. Inscrutable Man smiled glassily and returned to his book. Righteous Woman congratulated herself on a far more suitable match with Inscrutable Man than Physically Magnificent Man. Magnificent Man was always doing things and not caring about the ethical motivation and consequences. It was impossible for a responsible woman to provide sufficient moral guidance for such a creature! Inscrutable Man read and made obtuse comments. He needed no moral guidance for he had no relationship with the real world. He barely recognised his own face in a mirror. Smiling, she picked up her embroidery and making small, neat stitches, contemplated this match made in heaven!
(Thanks CP. This was a truly satisfying idea)
"Yes dear. How very remarkable!" soothed Righteous Woman. Inscrutable Man smiled glassily and returned to his book. Righteous Woman congratulated herself on a far more suitable match with Inscrutable Man than Physically Magnificent Man. Magnificent Man was always doing things and not caring about the ethical motivation and consequences. It was impossible for a responsible woman to provide sufficient moral guidance for such a creature! Inscrutable Man read and made obtuse comments. He needed no moral guidance for he had no relationship with the real world. He barely recognised his own face in a mirror. Smiling, she picked up her embroidery and making small, neat stitches, contemplated this match made in heaven!
(Thanks CP. This was a truly satisfying idea)
Thursday, 17 May 2007
Whinging about Barth
I would just like to say that Barth annoys me.
He has some good things to say. Sometimes he is provocative and startling in a helpful way. And I think that his motivation for doing theology was generally quite impressive, particularly given his liberal context.
But I am annoyed by his inability to communicate, and his conviction that communication is merely an incidental aspect of theology. In other words: "If you can't keep up, that's fine. I'm not going to make it easy for you! You'll have to find something else to do."
I am truly frustrated by his determination to eclipse humanity. So, we only know our humanity in Jesus and only have our humanity in him, and sin is an 'unreality' or way of not being which is such a contradiction that it seems impossible. These and other aspects of his theology make it impossible to understand how his theology actually plays out in the Real World. It's like a fascinating, interesting puzzle which assumes that gravity does not exist. It's cool, until you realise that actually gravity does exist and it's happening to you right now.
So, it's fine to say that Jesus is my humanity, but does that mean that non-Christians are not human? No! (of course, Nein!) says Barth. It means that humanity can only discover itself in Jesus. But that then means that his first statement is impractical. How can Jesus be my humanity and all humanity? What does that mean??? Or is it just words?
Similarly, does sin not exist because it is a contradiction of being? That seems to be the conclusion that Barth comes to. It's an ideal that cannot exist in the real world, where sin (and gravity) tend to be hard at work bringing things down.
Ultimately the contradictions in what Barth's saying make him stimulating but impossible to really understand. And it's as though that is self-protective: he can contradict anything and then state the opposite and you can't accuse him of denying anything. But you can't see what it is he is affirming either.
I realise and acknowledge that he had an amazing mind, but it is frankly unimpressive to have such a large mind that doesn't connect with reality. I think that is basic to the task of theology. So, I'm ticked off with Barth. I think the elaborate clothes he wove for the emperor were interesting, but insubstantial and not for public parades in this world.
It's all this gravity we peasants have to put up with. It doesn't go away just because someone denies it exists.
He has some good things to say. Sometimes he is provocative and startling in a helpful way. And I think that his motivation for doing theology was generally quite impressive, particularly given his liberal context.
But I am annoyed by his inability to communicate, and his conviction that communication is merely an incidental aspect of theology. In other words: "If you can't keep up, that's fine. I'm not going to make it easy for you! You'll have to find something else to do."
I am truly frustrated by his determination to eclipse humanity. So, we only know our humanity in Jesus and only have our humanity in him, and sin is an 'unreality' or way of not being which is such a contradiction that it seems impossible. These and other aspects of his theology make it impossible to understand how his theology actually plays out in the Real World. It's like a fascinating, interesting puzzle which assumes that gravity does not exist. It's cool, until you realise that actually gravity does exist and it's happening to you right now.
So, it's fine to say that Jesus is my humanity, but does that mean that non-Christians are not human? No! (of course, Nein!) says Barth. It means that humanity can only discover itself in Jesus. But that then means that his first statement is impractical. How can Jesus be my humanity and all humanity? What does that mean??? Or is it just words?
Similarly, does sin not exist because it is a contradiction of being? That seems to be the conclusion that Barth comes to. It's an ideal that cannot exist in the real world, where sin (and gravity) tend to be hard at work bringing things down.
Ultimately the contradictions in what Barth's saying make him stimulating but impossible to really understand. And it's as though that is self-protective: he can contradict anything and then state the opposite and you can't accuse him of denying anything. But you can't see what it is he is affirming either.
I realise and acknowledge that he had an amazing mind, but it is frankly unimpressive to have such a large mind that doesn't connect with reality. I think that is basic to the task of theology. So, I'm ticked off with Barth. I think the elaborate clothes he wove for the emperor were interesting, but insubstantial and not for public parades in this world.
It's all this gravity we peasants have to put up with. It doesn't go away just because someone denies it exists.
Sunday, 13 May 2007
Dodgy Victorian Novels
Last night I was tired. So, I ditched my current bedtime reading (a biography of Oliver Cromwell) for something less dense, and randomly selected one of my old trashy Victorian novels. My memories of them are of their sentimental, predictable storyline, with a line up of stereotyped characters.
It was all so much worse than I'd remembered!
I'd forgotten that the scenery descriptions are often simply hilarious, with the banal detail and desperate attempt to anthropomorphise everything in a sentimental way. Seriously, it's enough to put you off trees for life. You almost start expecting them to giggle when you walk past.
But the thing that really got to me last night was this pathological insistence that men have no moral backbone. In my story the Physically Magnificent Man is in love with the Righteous Woman, beautiful, elegant and so full of morality that one expects her to suddenly collapse under the weight of it all. We are told that she is independent, but still totally feminine (because there is such an obvious contradiction here). Her fiancee (the Physically Magnificent Man) is slightly scared of her but admires her moral fortitude. Into the story the tempetuous, delicate woman walks daintily. Her eyelashes are slightly damp (and therefore alluring) from her latest need to sob at her own imperfections. She had rescued a puppy from some mean boys, got stuck on a post for two hours because she can't climb a fence (hello?) and had to be undressed (down to her petticoat which was ripped! gasp!). She meets Magnificent Man and Righteous Woman when she comes to reclaim her puppy which is actually his and which at the behest of Righteous Woman, he gives to Delicate Girl.
So, it's fairly easy to see where the story is going to go. Righteous Woman will be left high and dry by Magnificent Man for Delicate Girl, who will smile bountifully and sob in turns until we are thoroughly sick of them all and sit down to watch Home and Away just to get some sense of reality.
What got to me this time was the ineptitude of the men in the story. They really are impoverished creatures. They only make good moral decisions because of women. They either have no capacity or no inclination to make such decisions apart from the women around them. Take away the women in their life and they would live immoral and wretched lives without any conscience. I realised that this is actually reasonably common in Victorian novels, and even in more serious novels, like Dicken's novels, you get the same dynamic. Not only does it undersell men, but it imposes too much responsibility on women.
I'm glad the Bible doesn't endorse this nonsense, and in fact flatly contradicts it. Often.
It was all so much worse than I'd remembered!
I'd forgotten that the scenery descriptions are often simply hilarious, with the banal detail and desperate attempt to anthropomorphise everything in a sentimental way. Seriously, it's enough to put you off trees for life. You almost start expecting them to giggle when you walk past.
But the thing that really got to me last night was this pathological insistence that men have no moral backbone. In my story the Physically Magnificent Man is in love with the Righteous Woman, beautiful, elegant and so full of morality that one expects her to suddenly collapse under the weight of it all. We are told that she is independent, but still totally feminine (because there is such an obvious contradiction here). Her fiancee (the Physically Magnificent Man) is slightly scared of her but admires her moral fortitude. Into the story the tempetuous, delicate woman walks daintily. Her eyelashes are slightly damp (and therefore alluring) from her latest need to sob at her own imperfections. She had rescued a puppy from some mean boys, got stuck on a post for two hours because she can't climb a fence (hello?) and had to be undressed (down to her petticoat which was ripped! gasp!). She meets Magnificent Man and Righteous Woman when she comes to reclaim her puppy which is actually his and which at the behest of Righteous Woman, he gives to Delicate Girl.
So, it's fairly easy to see where the story is going to go. Righteous Woman will be left high and dry by Magnificent Man for Delicate Girl, who will smile bountifully and sob in turns until we are thoroughly sick of them all and sit down to watch Home and Away just to get some sense of reality.
What got to me this time was the ineptitude of the men in the story. They really are impoverished creatures. They only make good moral decisions because of women. They either have no capacity or no inclination to make such decisions apart from the women around them. Take away the women in their life and they would live immoral and wretched lives without any conscience. I realised that this is actually reasonably common in Victorian novels, and even in more serious novels, like Dicken's novels, you get the same dynamic. Not only does it undersell men, but it imposes too much responsibility on women.
I'm glad the Bible doesn't endorse this nonsense, and in fact flatly contradicts it. Often.
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