From a College Window: On Academic Withdrawal

This morning I found myself at a little tucked-away display case at the University of Nottingham, in which were housed some of D.H. Lawrence’s draft poems, written while he was a student here.  One in particular caught my eye, reminding me of how comfortable it is to be on this side of the College window.  The later revised version was published in 1916, as follows:

From a College Window

The glimmer of the limes, sun-heavy, sleeping,
Goes trembling past me up the College wall.
Below, the lawn, in soft blue shade is keeping,
The daisy-froth quiescent, softly in thrall.

Beyond the leaves that overhang the street,
Along the flagged, clean pavement summer-white,
Passes the world with shadows at their feet
Going left and right.

Remote, although I hear the beggar’s cough,
See the woman’s twinkling fingers tend him a coin,
I sit absolved, assured I am better off
Beyond a world I never want to join.

UK versus Australia

IMPORTANT UPDATE BELOW…

Today I went to my bank to ask them for a ‘bank cheque’/'banker’s draft’ – something that would have been free at my bank in Australia, but, as it turns out, would cost £15 to do here in the UK.  Inspired by this, I have put together a list of contrasting strengths in terms of the UK and Australia:

Firstly, ways in which Australia beats the UK:

• Means of fastening bread bags: In the UK, they seal the plastic bags that have loaves of bread in them with tape… yes, TAPE!!  So silly!!!… Oh how I miss those little plastic reusable things that they use in Australia to seal bread bags… and they also double as ukulele plectrums.
• Temperature of drinks and food: Here in the UK, my local bakery serves sausage rolls COLD – and if you ask for it to be heated up they give you a quizzical look as if you’re a raving just-escaped-from-the-funny-farm loony… and at kids’ parties they often serve cold little sausage rolls.  And they often serve soft drinks WARM!  If you attempted these outrageous atrocities in Australia, you’d be socially ostracised and possibly given a wet willy.
• Charging for shopping trolleys: In the UK you usually have to pay a returnable pound to use a shopping trolley.  The obvious disadvantage of this system is that it seriously lessens the frequency of people leaving shopping trolleys in the surrounding streets, to be used by teenagers in hilarious late-night drunken antics.  This has been a well-respected rite of passage in Australia for generations.

Secondly, ways in which the UK beats Australia:

• A negligible interest in being sensible: I think that in the UK, people are freer to be eccentric and silly and creative, and to do things that just lack common sense, such as study theology or philosophy.  In Australia, I find a much more pragmatic attitude to study and life in general – and I think this is to Australia’s detriment.
• Seriously addictive children’s television: The UK totally beats Australia in terms of kids’ TV – One of my all time favourite activities is to suddenly race into the room in the middle of a hermeneutics lecture at uni and burst into the theme song to the kids’ show Balamory: “What’s the story in Balamory, wouldn’t you like to know?  What’s the story in Balamory, where would you like to go?”  This always gets some applause
• Use of the word ‘poorly’: In the UK, if you feel sick, you say that you feel ‘poorly’… and I kinda like that.  In Australia, if you feel sick, you say, “I feel sick” - which invites a response of suspicion, along the lines of “I hope you’re not planning to give it to ME”, rather than “I feel poorly” – which would invite a response of compassion, along the lines of “Ohh you poor pitiable thing… come here and let me cuddle you better.”

I think that pretty much covers all the differences between the UK and Australia… so where would I rather be?  Well I like both places – both of them are quite endearing really.  So at the moment I’ll put up with bread tape and cold sausage rolls and expensive trolleys… I like it here.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: As though by divine providence, I am now officially poorly; but will be soldiering on with the Greek reading group tomorrow… feel free to tilt your head in a compassionate gesture, quietly utter the words, “Awww poor lil feller… he’s poorly!”, and stretch out your arms for a hug.

1 Corinthians 1: Greek wordle

   This wordle represents chapter 1 of 1 Corinthians, and it makes obvious some interesting features of the chapter – such as the number of references to God/Jesus/Christ/Lord – particularly in the genitive…

For anyone who is in the Nottingham area, Peter & I will be starting a Greek NT reading group next week, which will focus on 1 Corinthians, and enable discussion about linguistic, textual, hermeneutical, and theological issues which arise from our reading of the Greek text.  Anthony Thiselton has offered to come towards the end of the group’s time together, to discuss any big questions that have struck us.  Get in touch if you’re interested.

latest technology hits nottingham

While I was in Australia, the theology department at the University of Nottingham moved out of our previous building and into our very own building: Highfield House.  And on the inside of the front door of our new location, this sign can be seen, apparently placed there by the University ‘Security Control’… I think they doubt the ability of theologians to operate such wacky pieces of engineering:

…and a close up:

It’s Academic

Little bird: Explain how you understand the way in which your role as an academic functions as a part of being a disciple of Jesus in today’s world.

Matthew: Birds can’t talk

Little bird: [Sigh...] I get this all the time.  Hey, if Balaam’s ass can talk, then so can I.  Just answer the question.

Matthew: Hmmmm….

This is an important question.  I recall hearing a talk by Os Guinness years ago (entitled ‘The Call’), in which he urged people in all situations to consider God’s call upon their lives to use HIS gifts in HIS service.  The phrase came to mind: “Of those to whom much is given, much will be expected.”  So I think one reason for a disciple of Jesus to become an academic is the desire to love God with all of one’s mind, putting all of one’s opportunities and resources and gifts to work in God’s service. 

From that starting point, let me consider the example of the apostle Paul, widely regarded as having a brilliant theological mind.  He appears to have been the most rigorously intellectual of the apostles, trained as a Pharisee, able to give public speeches, utilise rhetoric, invent new epistolary forms, and “take every thought captive” in Christ’s service.  But here’s the interesting bit: How did this intellectual heavyweight seek to use his influence as a Christian leader?  How did he direct his own desire to use his gifts in Christ’s service?

By testifying to the cross of Jesus in word and deed.  Paul’s message in 1 Corinthians could be summed up like this: “Come die with me, as I follow Jesus.”  That’s not what the Corinthians wanted to hear – they wanted a proper academic, with his PhD on the wall, his lapel microphone turned up, and his hearers gaining the benefit of his master-crafted speeches.  But no… “I die every day… come join me, as I follow the crucified one.”  Paul undeniably used the wealth of his intellect, but in the service of cruciformity.

Let me put it another way: Did Paul expect the Corinthians to learn the gospel by hearing him tell them about Christ’s death and resurrection, or by seeing him flogged and shipwrecked and stuttering, and pouring himself out for the sake of other people?  The answer is: both.

So I suppose that if I want to be a teacher like Paul, and use whatever intellectual gifts I have in the service of Christ, I could learn from that example.  This raises all sorts of questions for me:  How can I ensure that I testify to the cross of Christ not only in my words but in my deeds?  What countries of the world are most needy – even if it means ’slumming it’?  Am I willing to give up the opportunity for particular academic recognition, if it means I can pour myself out for the sake of others?

These are starting points, rather than settled conclusions.  I’m not sure what all of my answers are.  I’d be curious to hear if others struggle with similar questions…

XXXIII

Well tomorrow, the 20th June, is my birthday.  I will be turning a very significant age: The same age that a certain historical figure was when, in a showdown with political leaders, he died… following predictions that he would return…

I’m speaking, of course, of David Koresh.  Nah, you know who I’m talkin’ about.

And what will I be doing to celebrate?  Attending a conference at the University of Nottingham on Pope Benedict’s book ‘Jesus of Nazareth’.  This book is an interesting read, going through the life of Jesus from his baptism to the transfiguration (part two, on Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection, is yet to be produced).

Ratzinger/Benedict aims to counter a hermeneutical commitment to the sufficiency of the “historical-critical method”, by urging its necessary supplementation with both canonical criticism and ecclesial criticism: A book of the Bible cannot be rightly interpreted without reference to its placement in the canon and its reception by the church throughout the ages.

I think that in practice his approach can perhaps be illustrated by the following quote:

The Our Father has been transmitted to us in a shorter form in Luke, whereas it comes down to us in Matthew in the version that the Church has adopted for purposes of prayer.  The discussion about which text is more original is not superfluous, but neither is it the main issue.  In both versions we are praying with Jesus…  (Jesus of Nazareth, p133)

For Benedict, this seems to be the way history and faith relate: Questions of historicity are not superfluous, but neither are they sufficient.  On the one hand, it’s utterly important to Christianity that the events of Jesus as they are transmitted in the Gospels (virgin birth, life in Galilee/Judea, death, resurrection, ascension) find agreement with the rigorous study of history; but on the other hand, this rigorous historical enquiry itself is not “the main issue”.

I’ll be curious to see how it goes.

exalted in my body

If you come to the postgraduate study room for theology students at the University of Nottingham, you will discover that above the door on the way in, there is a little sign saying “The Ivory Tower” (actually, we are situated just beneath the clocktower in the Trent building)… and as you leave the study room, you will see a little sign above the door announcing your exit to “The Real World”. The little signs were placed there a few weeks back by a particular Australian theology postgrad, as egged on by certain other inhabitants of this room.

Of course, the point is an ironic one… but it does provoke me to think each time I come in and go out. Why didn’t Paul say what I wanted him to say: “It is my eager expectation and hope that… Christ will be exalted now as always in my study”… I’d be much more comfortable with that…

“In the bodily obedience of the Christian, carried out as the service of God in the world of everyday, the lordship of Christ finds visible expression and only when this visible expression takes personal shape in us does the whole thing become credible as Gospel message.” Ernst Kasemann