With this year's Lenten campaigns -- "give it up for Lent" and "Fastbook" (fasting from Facebook), to name two -- frequenting my Facebook feed and probably yours too, I've been thinking and praying about what I might do for Lent that would be more than a self-help project or the liturgical equivalent of a New Year's resolution.
(I should say at this point that I do think it's a good thing that Advent and Lent are beginning to receive broader attention within the church; I'm just concerned that this will prove faddish, that each season will be sucked in by the marketing power of the not-so-holidays that Christmas and Easter have become. But I digress. Obviously.)
What I've arrived at is to set a rule of life. This is a practice from the ancient church, one most of us associate (maybe too much so) with the monastic tradition, partly because that's where the most famous examples are found, as in the Benedictine Rule or the Franciscan Rule. Simply put, whether folks were living apart for Jesus as hermits or in community, they needed rules in place to make sure their lives were consistently pointing in Jesus' direction.
As interest in missional living and monastic practice grows here in Hamilton (see my article for TrueCity about one such local initiative, here) and other places in North America, the construction of a rule of life is becoming more popular, too. And if I want to assemble a rule of life (both individually and with Karen) during Lent, I need to read a little bit more of what's being written on such rule formation these days. But for the moment, I'm still chewing on what a text from a course in my master's program has to say, as it places the rule in the context of systematic theology. Simon Chan (not to be confused with the current bestseller, Francis Chan), in his Spiritual Theology: A Systematic Study of the Christian Life (IVP, 1998), writes, "Embracing a rule of life means allowing our lives to be reconstituted by this new pattern...a rule does not mean that a greater part of our time is taken up with performing religious duties. Rather, the rhythm that a good rule establishes helps us maintain our spiritual focus" (190-91). Chan has lots of other good stuff to say about discerning a personal and a "common" (communal) rule; as I've read here and elsewhere that part of rule formation is determining which spiritual disciplines are (or should be) primary in one's life, the one other quote I'll cite right now falls under Chan's thoughts on "Guidelines for spiritual reading" as a discipline. In response to common neglect of the habit of careful, meditative reading skills, he argues that the church "could be a vital re-forming agent, but it has to re-create itself as a reading-listening community" (162-63). That resonates, in part because of potential ministry some plans that Karen and I are praying through. And I will let that and other thoughts resonate as we continue through Lent. My first instinct is to say that helping the church to "re-create itself as a reading-listening community" describes two of the disciplines that I already know that I need to recognize as core values in my Rule: study and hospitality. But we'll see what some more prayer produces on this Lenten journey.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
The Steinbeck Experiment
Happy Boxing Day, everyone!
Yesterday, one of the Christmas gifts my wife opened (and in a few cases, treasure-hunted for) from me was a pack of sketchbooks, one of which was designated for me: on the insides of an unfolding paper box placed under the tree, I explained that I'm going to be keeping a writing journal this year, addressed to Karen. She's welcome to read from it as she likes during the year, but next Christmas I will present it to her as a (hopefully) completed gift, showing each day how I have practiced this thing that's supposed to be my craft. She can read intensively, skim, laugh or roll her eyes as she likes -- and while she can ask how my work is going from day to day, the journal frees her from any obligation to do so in much detail, even as it provides me with day-to-day accountability for Getting Work Done.
But Matt, wherever did you get this idea of such surpassing brilliance? From John Steinbeck, of course. As he was writing East of Eden in 1951, he kept an epistolary journal of sorts, addressed to a friend and editor. When one reads it today, it comes across as a proto-blog, as Steinbeck tracks his progress, wrestles with problems of pacing, plotting, and procrastination, waxes on (and on) about his obsessions with finding exactly the right pencil, and occasionally reflects on what's happening in his family life and the world around him.
In my case, the journal idea remains the same, but it's addressed to Karen. She's not always my primary audience, but as I explained in the first post in this blog, her influence makes me a better writer, not just a better person and a stronger follower of Jesus.
It'll be interesting to see how this gift develops. I'll try to report in on that occasionally here -- without letting such posts, or the journaling itself, become procrastination.
Yesterday, one of the Christmas gifts my wife opened (and in a few cases, treasure-hunted for) from me was a pack of sketchbooks, one of which was designated for me: on the insides of an unfolding paper box placed under the tree, I explained that I'm going to be keeping a writing journal this year, addressed to Karen. She's welcome to read from it as she likes during the year, but next Christmas I will present it to her as a (hopefully) completed gift, showing each day how I have practiced this thing that's supposed to be my craft. She can read intensively, skim, laugh or roll her eyes as she likes -- and while she can ask how my work is going from day to day, the journal frees her from any obligation to do so in much detail, even as it provides me with day-to-day accountability for Getting Work Done.
But Matt, wherever did you get this idea of such surpassing brilliance? From John Steinbeck, of course. As he was writing East of Eden in 1951, he kept an epistolary journal of sorts, addressed to a friend and editor. When one reads it today, it comes across as a proto-blog, as Steinbeck tracks his progress, wrestles with problems of pacing, plotting, and procrastination, waxes on (and on) about his obsessions with finding exactly the right pencil, and occasionally reflects on what's happening in his family life and the world around him.
In my case, the journal idea remains the same, but it's addressed to Karen. She's not always my primary audience, but as I explained in the first post in this blog, her influence makes me a better writer, not just a better person and a stronger follower of Jesus.
It'll be interesting to see how this gift develops. I'll try to report in on that occasionally here -- without letting such posts, or the journaling itself, become procrastination.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Of Book Proposals and Invitations
Over the past few weeks, I've been hoping, praying and working toward the goal of having at least one book contract underway in the new year. Among the various motives -- e.g., knowing that I need external deadlines to keep myself motivated when working, and wanting to be invited to an authors' dinner or two at my next major conference -- let's focus for now on that of professional, vocational development: I want to produce a book to share my thoughts, yes, but also to demonstrate that I can hack it at a whole 'nother level above that of articles and essays.
To wit, I'd been working on a book proposal, on a topic that I'd rather not talk about here just yet. One major publisher's guide for book proposals suggests the submission of two chapters of the prospective volume, one introductory, the other of more substance, from later in the book. It was a wonderful surprise when I was able to hammer out a more-or-less-finished form of the introduction in something less than four hours; my usual writing rate is a good bit slower than that. So now I need to think about which of the later chapters to try next -- once I clear out some current and overdue projects between now and the beginning of 2013.
The big news is that this cleaning-house stage isn't just for that book proposal, but because I may very well be revising my dissertation for publication very soon. Last Friday, a senior colleague whom I met and evidently impressed at a conference last spring invited me to submit my dissertation for publication in the series he edits, Emory Studies in Early Christianity. No contracts signed yet, but I have his and his co-editor's blessing to say that I have been so invited and that things "look promising"; over Christmas break, they'll be looking over the diss. as it stood when revised and bound in May of last year, and they'll let me know what revisions they expect early in the new year.
So hooray! It's encouraging when someone takes this strong an interest in my work. In a variation on a habit we've seen modeled by friends, Karen and I keep a collection of glass beads on one of our bookshelves, beads that we label with reminders of recent gifts of God's grace for which to be thankful. Suffice it to say that the Emory invitation warrants its own newly labelled bead. Provided that the publication goes forward, I'm sure there'll be times next year when I am less than thankful for the work entailed -- but this is something that I want and need and am called to do. More than that: it's an answer to prayer, albeit one that will require much more prayer down the road...!
To wit, I'd been working on a book proposal, on a topic that I'd rather not talk about here just yet. One major publisher's guide for book proposals suggests the submission of two chapters of the prospective volume, one introductory, the other of more substance, from later in the book. It was a wonderful surprise when I was able to hammer out a more-or-less-finished form of the introduction in something less than four hours; my usual writing rate is a good bit slower than that. So now I need to think about which of the later chapters to try next -- once I clear out some current and overdue projects between now and the beginning of 2013.
The big news is that this cleaning-house stage isn't just for that book proposal, but because I may very well be revising my dissertation for publication very soon. Last Friday, a senior colleague whom I met and evidently impressed at a conference last spring invited me to submit my dissertation for publication in the series he edits, Emory Studies in Early Christianity. No contracts signed yet, but I have his and his co-editor's blessing to say that I have been so invited and that things "look promising"; over Christmas break, they'll be looking over the diss. as it stood when revised and bound in May of last year, and they'll let me know what revisions they expect early in the new year.
So hooray! It's encouraging when someone takes this strong an interest in my work. In a variation on a habit we've seen modeled by friends, Karen and I keep a collection of glass beads on one of our bookshelves, beads that we label with reminders of recent gifts of God's grace for which to be thankful. Suffice it to say that the Emory invitation warrants its own newly labelled bead. Provided that the publication goes forward, I'm sure there'll be times next year when I am less than thankful for the work entailed -- but this is something that I want and need and am called to do. More than that: it's an answer to prayer, albeit one that will require much more prayer down the road...!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Celebrating, Part II
Photos from the book launch are now up -- courtesy of James Wallace Photography. http://goo.gl/uuDxt
Monday, November 5, 2012
Celebrating the Unfolding Mystery
The Scaffold (www.facebook.com/The.Scaffold.book.room) is full. In fact, the whole TrueCity office that houses our collaborative book room is full -- full of happy people. About fifty souls have ventured out to James Street North, found their way to our front door (no easy task!) and followed the trail of bread crumbs and homemade signs to the office. Some of them have known each other for years, through seminaries (most frequently, McMaster Divinity College), churches, camps, TrueCity itself, and various other ministries. Some meet for the first time tonight, only to find they already have several such communities in common.
There's delicious Venezuelan food. Here's James Wallace, busily taking photos (hopefully coming soon!). There are people asking me about how we got this whole thing -- the Scaffold itself, as well as tonight's event -- started. The hubbub and even some of the people have spilled out into the hallway. And here and there, through the crowd, you can find glimpses of the reason we've gathered. Dr. Michael Knowles is signing copies of his book, hugging longtime friends, leading toasts, and every now and then, just grinning, quietly and happily overwhelmed, both by the journey involved in finally getting The Unfolding Mystery of the Divine Name: The God of Sinai in Our Midst published, as well as by the sheer number of folks who wanted to come, to celebrate, to bless him -- not least because of how much God has already used him to bless them.
I invite everyone to find seats; there are almost enough. I explain a little about what the Scaffold is supposed to be, and I tell a quick story, a few jokes and a few details about our speaker. We welcome him and he tells us about this book's journey. He reads a page or two from the book. We ask questions; he tells us what he's learned during the writing of it, and how pivotal it is that we understand and imitate (as best we can!) the character and characteristics of our gracious, compassionate God. He points to the effects that this theology of encounter has had not just in his own life but in those of his students. There are nods and perhaps a quiet "amen" or two.
We stack some of the chairs to give ourselves more room to spread out and talk, and the evening begins to wind down. We've sold about 30 copies of Michael's book. (He's still grinning.) We've been blessed and we've been a blessing.
Finally, the few of us left stack up a few more chairs, clean up, carry books and leftover food back to cars, and close up shop. It's been a good night. So we keep the homemade signs. Hopefully we'll have the chance to use them again soon, to encourage Michael and other local authors who want to get their books into the hands of ministry leaders and friends who can use them. That's what this place is all about.
There's delicious Venezuelan food. Here's James Wallace, busily taking photos (hopefully coming soon!). There are people asking me about how we got this whole thing -- the Scaffold itself, as well as tonight's event -- started. The hubbub and even some of the people have spilled out into the hallway. And here and there, through the crowd, you can find glimpses of the reason we've gathered. Dr. Michael Knowles is signing copies of his book, hugging longtime friends, leading toasts, and every now and then, just grinning, quietly and happily overwhelmed, both by the journey involved in finally getting The Unfolding Mystery of the Divine Name: The God of Sinai in Our Midst published, as well as by the sheer number of folks who wanted to come, to celebrate, to bless him -- not least because of how much God has already used him to bless them.
I invite everyone to find seats; there are almost enough. I explain a little about what the Scaffold is supposed to be, and I tell a quick story, a few jokes and a few details about our speaker. We welcome him and he tells us about this book's journey. He reads a page or two from the book. We ask questions; he tells us what he's learned during the writing of it, and how pivotal it is that we understand and imitate (as best we can!) the character and characteristics of our gracious, compassionate God. He points to the effects that this theology of encounter has had not just in his own life but in those of his students. There are nods and perhaps a quiet "amen" or two.
We stack some of the chairs to give ourselves more room to spread out and talk, and the evening begins to wind down. We've sold about 30 copies of Michael's book. (He's still grinning.) We've been blessed and we've been a blessing.
Finally, the few of us left stack up a few more chairs, clean up, carry books and leftover food back to cars, and close up shop. It's been a good night. So we keep the homemade signs. Hopefully we'll have the chance to use them again soon, to encourage Michael and other local authors who want to get their books into the hands of ministry leaders and friends who can use them. That's what this place is all about.
Friday, November 2, 2012
The Marathon Continues
Karen and I referred to the past month as the Apoc-tober-lypse, on account of how busy it was: Thanksgiving, several major church and family events, helping one couple to move and another to get married, plus the usual barrage of church and life stuff, and setting up The Scaffold in anticipation of the coming book launch event.
And then there were the conferences and conference preparations. The Canadian Evangelical Theological Association and McMaster Divinity College hosted the "New Voices in Canadian Evangelical Theology" conference on Oct 20; I presented a paper on reading Paul's images of presence and calling in Romans over against the Roman Empire's propagation of Caesar's image and its practice of evocatio (inviting an enemy's patron god to abandon his city in favor of better worship, bigger temples, etc. in Rome). The paper was well received, my friend Sylvia Keesmaat gave a wonderful response to it, and the themes of both the paper and the response resonated very nicely with the plenary talk given by Brian Walsh, an extended re-wording of the entire book of Romans along the theme of homecoming (vs. the home-wrecking, or "domicidal," ways of empire). And a senior scholar, in thanking me for my involvement in the conference, tells me that he's going to be citing my dissertation in a forthcoming book. ...The other conference, still on the horizon, is the annual meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, where I'm presenting two papers. One I was preparing for the advance deadline of the 31st, when suddenly the other session announced that they had a deadline, too -- retroactively! So the last two weeks have meant a lot of writing, note-checking, and so on. Not that I didn't deal with deadlines like these in school, but those projects weren't usually for such public presentation, critique, and publication.
Now that both papers have been turned in, it's time to catch up on a lot of things that had to be shelved until after the deadlines. And to remind myself that if I want to call myself a writer, then this is not a time to rest, at least not for very long: there are other things that tell me they need to be written, and soon. The past ten-days-plus were something of a sprint, but the marathon is far from over.
And then there were the conferences and conference preparations. The Canadian Evangelical Theological Association and McMaster Divinity College hosted the "New Voices in Canadian Evangelical Theology" conference on Oct 20; I presented a paper on reading Paul's images of presence and calling in Romans over against the Roman Empire's propagation of Caesar's image and its practice of evocatio (inviting an enemy's patron god to abandon his city in favor of better worship, bigger temples, etc. in Rome). The paper was well received, my friend Sylvia Keesmaat gave a wonderful response to it, and the themes of both the paper and the response resonated very nicely with the plenary talk given by Brian Walsh, an extended re-wording of the entire book of Romans along the theme of homecoming (vs. the home-wrecking, or "domicidal," ways of empire). And a senior scholar, in thanking me for my involvement in the conference, tells me that he's going to be citing my dissertation in a forthcoming book. ...The other conference, still on the horizon, is the annual meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature, where I'm presenting two papers. One I was preparing for the advance deadline of the 31st, when suddenly the other session announced that they had a deadline, too -- retroactively! So the last two weeks have meant a lot of writing, note-checking, and so on. Not that I didn't deal with deadlines like these in school, but those projects weren't usually for such public presentation, critique, and publication.
Now that both papers have been turned in, it's time to catch up on a lot of things that had to be shelved until after the deadlines. And to remind myself that if I want to call myself a writer, then this is not a time to rest, at least not for very long: there are other things that tell me they need to be written, and soon. The past ten-days-plus were something of a sprint, but the marathon is far from over.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Go for Launch
One of the coolest things about the planning and founding of The Scaffold has been what we might call a convergence of hopes and visions: at several stages along the way, as soon as I've voiced a new idea, I find out others in Hamilton were/are planning (or hoping for) something beautifully similar.
Oh, and speaking of, if you haven't already been invited: come to The Scaffold, 500 James North, Suite 200, Hamilton, on Sunday, November 4, at 7:30. Michael will talk a little about his book, we'll toast its publication, you can ask questions, get yourself some refreshments, and buy yourself a shiny new autographed copy of The Unfolding Mystery of the Divine Name: The God of Sinai in Our Midst, a wonderfully deep meditation on the attributes of God as outlined in Exodus 34 and other texts in the same tradition. Come hang out and build something with us.
- I suggested something along the lines of a bookstore or shared book room; it turned out two friends had envisioned similar initiatives but either hadn't gotten a response or hadn't had time or space to implement their ideas.
- The Scaffold began to take shape and found a temporary home; and I learned that a church in Hamilton was exploring the idea of a Christian library and coffeehouse downtown. Will that plan coincide with The Scaffold's need for a new home at the end of 2013? Too soon to tell, but it's cool that God is drawing things like this in close parallel.
- Perhaps coolest of all: I wondered whether my doctoral supervisor and friend, Dr. Michael Knowles, was planning on having a book launch for his long-anticipated new book; when I asked, he got really excited, as he's been hoping to have a launch/party to celebrate, but wasn't sure where or how to plan it. Hmmmm.
Oh, and speaking of, if you haven't already been invited: come to The Scaffold, 500 James North, Suite 200, Hamilton, on Sunday, November 4, at 7:30. Michael will talk a little about his book, we'll toast its publication, you can ask questions, get yourself some refreshments, and buy yourself a shiny new autographed copy of The Unfolding Mystery of the Divine Name: The God of Sinai in Our Midst, a wonderfully deep meditation on the attributes of God as outlined in Exodus 34 and other texts in the same tradition. Come hang out and build something with us.
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