Dydd Gwyl Dewi hapus!

1st March is, of course, the Lesser Festival (White) of David, Bishop of Menevia, Patron of Wales, c.601

At the synod at Llanddewi Brefi, 42 miles north east of Cardigan, David is said to have stood on a cloth on the ground which then rose up as a white dove came to sit on his shoulder. A real crowd pleaser. He was then made an Archbishop, which is one way to high office. We Reformed types should note that Saint David denounced the Pelagian heresy.

Those seeking alternative Episcopal oversight may wish to recall that in the Celtic tradition Bishops had the freedom to roam across borders.

Collect

Almighty God,
Who called your servant David
To be a faithful and wise steward of your mysteries for the people of Wales:
In your mercy, grant that,
following his purity of life and zeal for the gospel of Christ, we may with him receive the crown of everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

On 2^nd March the Church remembers Chad, Bishop of Lichfield, Missionary, 627.

All these feasts in Lent are proving helpful in making me feel less guilty about my Lenten “Aspirations”. Unfortunately David would probably not approve of a pint of SA in his honour. He was allegedly a teetotaler, hence the alternative title of 'Dewi Ddyfrwr' meaning ‘David the water drinker’. In the 10 monasteries he is said to have founded he wanted the monks to eat a strict diet of bread and herbs and harness themselves to the plough rather than using oxen. He liked a nice cold bath.

Doubts in the British Library - a poem

Why are they all here?

Row on row of intellectual battery hens;

Each alone in his own square meter,

The cages invisible.

Each alone with his own fixation.

Why are they all here, under their lamps,

with their piles of books

and sharpened pencils,

their regulation carrier bags

and their little pass-cards to prove that they are Readers?

Reading for Truth? or truths?

Turning pages

To prove a point?

To score in some Great Debate?

Seeking? Searching? Scribbling in the shush.

And tap, tap, tapping as they stare at their screens.

Coughing and spluttering, fidgeting.

Shuffling papers.

From curiosity?

For advancement? Preferment?

For glory? Immortality?

Because they couldn’t get a proper job?

From habit?

Driven?

No where else to go.

Safe in here, with the barricades of books,

Away from the world

And the wind and the rain out there.

Who will read what they write?

And who will know if they’re right?

And why am I here?

Am I a chicken?

Incarnation and the possibility of meaning, speaking etc.

By the time you have thought with Paul Ricoeur (Interpretation Theroy, p25) of “… the kind of intentional exteriorization that writing exhibits….” and “… Plato’s critique of writing as a kind of alienation…” you have to say that the incarnation of the Word is the precondition of the possibility of all successful speaking, writing and meaning.

The Son is “the kind of intentional exteriorization” of the Father: he is begotten.

The Son is made even more “external” in his incarnation as he wills to become Man in a meaningful way that speaks to men.

In the inter-Trinitarian relations and the incarnation there is no alienation required or implied. Plato’s “problem” is solved since the Word does not change in becoming: he remains entirely himself. The Father’s eternal begetting of the Son is not a “loss” to him but a gain in meaning as he knows Himself in a new way in the Son.

Real Presence / Absence of Authors & Jesus

Is writing something down the elimination or preservation of the human messenger-author?

Both, surely. The author is both absent (probably distant in space and time from the readers and very likely dead and gone) but present in, with, through, by or behind his words.

Now compare the Lord’s Supper in which Jesus is really absent (bodily in heaven) and really present (by His Word and Spirit).

What a difference writing a word makes

Paul Ricoeur says in Interpretation Theory, p26:

The most obvious change from speaking to writing concerns the relation between the message and its medium or channel. At first glance, it concerns only this relation, but upon closer examination, the first alteration irradiates in every direction, affecting in a diverse manner all the factors and functions. Our task, therefore, will be to proceed from this central change toward its various peripheral effects….

The inscription, substituted for the immediate vocal, physiognomic, or gestural expression, is in itself a tremendous cultural achievement. The human fact disappears. Now material “marks” convey the message.

Langue and Parole in Scripture, Human and Divine

I should have mentioned yesterday when blogging about the usefulness of Saussure’s categories of Langue (language as system) and Parole (language in use) and the Supper as a word or language, that the distinction is worth applying to Scripture too.

Claims to special inspiration of Scripture apply properly and fully to the parole of the Bible: these words in use in their situations (addressed by God to his people, both the original hearers and all subsequent generations), not to the Langue of the Bible.

No claim is being made that the words of Scripture as Langue are uniquely inspired. God did not use a whole new language (called Bibline or Scripturish) or a special set of vocabulary (though neologisms in Scripture, especially in prophetic oracles) would be an interesting case). The words of the Bible are really and fully are human words.

Having said that, of course, God is the creator (we might say, the author) and Lord of human language. The language (langue) is “divine” in the sense that God made it and governs it (providentially) but this would really be an abuse of the term: a similar claim could be made for every created thing. We thus distinguish the special inspiration of these words of Scripture for these purposes from the creation, sustaining and providential governing of these and all other words alike.

The Bible is then human words (and grammatical constructions and so on) used by God such that they are divine words (and syntax). The inspired word is the product of creation, providence and special inspiration.

Far too big for his RC robes

Revd Richard Perkins (Pastor of the Co-Mission church, Christ Church, Balham) has had a few Doctrine Slot blogposts on Roman Catholicism and quotes this amazingly overblown statement of official Roman Catholic teaching about the Pope:

The Pope takes the place of Jesus Christ on earth …. By divine right the Pope has supreme and full power in faith and morals over each and every pastor and his flock. He is the true Vicar of Christ, the head of the entire church, the father and teacher of all Christians. He is the infallible ruler, the founder of dogmas, the author of and judge of councils; the universal ruler of truth, the arbiter of the world, the supreme judge of heaven and earth, the judge of all, being judged by no one, God himself on earth

Now, I'm all for the authority of pastors as under-shepherds of Christ, even as his representatives (not substitute) on earth, and I could live with "Father" and "arbitrator" and stuff, but this is surely too much?

Does anyone happen to know the precise source? Is it Vatican I? Presumably the RC church can never change or repediate such authoritative teaching but has there been an attempt to "reinterpet" or soften this?

What I read today

Today I left for the library before 10am and left for home after 7pm and all I managed to read was:

The back of Stanley Fish, Is There A Meaning In This Text? and about 5pp of it, on the tube

The contents page of 3 books (Derrida, Saussure and Ricoeur)

Preface, Introduction and 24pp of Paul Ricouer, Interpretation Theory

That’s about 4 proper pages an hour. At that rate…

Not very good, eh?

Ruddy note taking. And ruddy blogging and email and café and day dreaming and even texting and …

Who am "I"?

According to Paul Ricoeur in Interpretation Theory (p13):

“I” is a shifter: “I” is the one who in speaking applies to himself the word “I” which appears in the sentence as the logical subject.

Good. So I hope that's clear? That's alright then. QED.

Obviously, of course

But isn’t that just stating the obvious?

Yes, probably. But somehow it only seems really obvious once you’ve stated it. The obvious is too easily overlooked. And your “obvious” is sometimes my obscure(d).

This comment from Paul Ricoeur (Interpretation Theory, p15) is pertinent and would be relevant to postmodern claims that we can't get at an author's original intended meaning:

For the linguist, communication is a fact, even a most obvious fact. People do actually speak to one another. But for an existential investigation [i.e. to the philosopher] communication is an enigma, even a wonder.

Obvious, really.

Taking Note of Note Taking

I often find myself typing in most of a chapter or article that I’m reading or cutting and pasting like mad with very little commenting, highlighting or the like.

Maybe I would be a better student if notes were a bit harder to take, say with a pencil rather than a laptop. I might be driven to be more salient and concise, more judicious and active in my reading, summarising and evaluating rather than reguretatting: more scholar than typewriter.

When I was at university first time round I did everything with pen and paper and would get through a stack of books tolerably (i.e. intro, conclusion, contents page & index) each week and end up with some notes in a file and an essay. I’m not sure my work rate has increased or my essays got much better for all the rearranging blocks of text and the footnote fuss. “Driver argued that” or “As Westermann comment” seemed perfectly good citations then. There is certainly a law of diminishing returns here.

I dread to think what voice recognition software might do to my notes. Sections might often begin: “And d’y know, in a funny sort a’ way, maybe…”. It is likely, however, that a naturally speaking Dragon would have better spelling than me.

What's the Supper saying?

At least ever since the Church Father, Bishop Augustine of Hippo, Christians have spoken of the Lord’s Supper as a visible word. In this meal we hear and look at, and touch and eat the Word.

So if the Supper is a word, what is it saying? Who is saying what to whom?

First and above all, the Supper is God’s Word to us. It is the promise of the gospel. God says “Jesus Christ” to us. It is a word of favour and grace. The word of Life and Truth. God is renewing his covenant with us here, pledging himself to be faithful to the gospel for us.

But second, and less importantly, the Supper is also our word to God. We say “thank you” to God here, we ask for his help and we pledge again our loyalty to Him and his covenant.

Perhaps we might even ask what words, what documents, the Supper is like.

Its most like the Bible: it is God’s word and man’s word. A truthfull and unfailing word of promise about Jesus.

It is also a love letter.

And a treaty.

And a Father’s instruction.

It is the Word made flesh made bread.

Let us now eat the Word.

Its all semiotics now

Ricoeur, Paul, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth, Texas Christian University, 1976) p4 says:

As concerns the extension of the structural model to non-linguistic entities, the application may be less spectacular – including, as it does, road signals, cultural codes such as table manners, costume, building and dwelling codes, decorative patterns, etc. – but it is theoretically interesting in that it gives an empirical content to the concept of semiology or general semantics, which was developed independently by Saussure and Charles S. Pierce. Linguistics here becomes one province of the general theory of signs, albeit a province that has the privilege of being both one species and the paradigmatic example of a sign-system.

Langue and Parole in the Supper

Given (once again) that the Supper is a word, I wonder if (using F. de Saussure’s categories from Course In General Lingusitics) you could have a langue and parole understanding of the Supper.

The Langue is the language as system or grid, the fixed meaning that prevails across time and place, the collective code, the shared framework or common linguistic world. This would have a special connection to Christ’s institution of the Supper. We might say that in instituting the Lord's Supper, Jesus coined new (tangible) words, even that he created a whole new way of speaking, a new language.

The Parole is language as event or transaction, a personal, specific individualisation in use, a message given and received between persons in a particular place and time. This would have a special connection to each celebration of the Supper, even to the individual giving and receiving of the elements.

Language, Meaning and Time

Paul Ricoeur’s Interpretation Theory argues that meaning and speech (or even thought) requires a noun and a verb and that verbs always bring an element of time to the predication which is essential to meaning.

Do you buy that?

Are there any true aorists, utterly undifferentiated as to time [c.f. Porter]? Is that a gnomic aorist?

And is this just to do with English or all languages?

As I may have mentioned before, we’ve talked in doctrine of God classes about the fact that some kind of eternal atemporal predication is needed for God, though not easily available in English.

Good Questions

I guess its very obvious (but it took Stanley Fish to "remind me") that the answers you get depend on the questions you ask. When you begin to think about it, the significance of our assumptions, questions and agenda are very far reaching. They shape meaning and direction for us.

So generating good questions must be a very important activity.

Which is good, cos asking questions is easier than giving answers, perhaps.

But what are the good questions? And the questions behind the questions? The unanswered or unasked questions? The questionable questions?

Good questions, eh?

* * *

When I “taught” RE I started all my year 7 and year 9 lessons with some “Fundamental Questions”:

(1) Identity? Who am I?

(2) Purpose? Why am I here?

(3) Destiny: Where am I going?

They still seem some good questions to me.

* * *

I always taught the same thing to Years 7 & 9. It made life much easier. And it worked fine. Though there was a sticky moment as one boy in year 9 had a cousin in year 7 and for some reason they had been comparing their RE exercise books.

Obviously on this approach one can only teach the same year groups for two years, but it gives you a bit of thinking time.

I believe this is known in the trade (sorry, profession) as the Spiral Curriculum Principle.

We seemed to use when I was being taught history in school: it was always the Nazis.

Translating Bread and Wine

Since the bread and wine of The Lord’s Supper are (visible or tangible) words, given in what one might call the particular “language” of one situated culture, that of Israel in the first century, one might argue that what is needed is a dynamic equivalence “translation” of the elements into all the different cultural languages of human societies over time and around the world.

On this view, one would isolate the essential meaning of the word-signs (perhaps a staple food and a red drink used in festivity) and render it in meaningful ways: say, rice and red tea might be used China.

For my self I am a literalist. Let’s always and consistently have bread and wine. The most important meaning given to bread and wine is that found in the Scriptures, where bread (or its constituents, such as grain) and wine are presented very frequently.

Behind all this is are question of whether all cultures and languages are equal or whether we should seek to learn the Bible’s language and conform to its culture and whether the symbolism of the Lord’s Supper is natural (general) or conventional (special).

No doubt one could use other elements if bread and wine really weren’t ever going to be available to you, but would it really be The Lord’s Supper in gold capital letters? Similarly, one might use the Good News Bible or The Message, but we wouldn’t want to confuse them with the Word of God, would we?

No burger and coke eucharists for us and perhaps some time with James Jordan’s Through New Eyes (on biblical symbolism / worldview).

Barth on Scripture smelling Fishy

I’ve been reading Stanley Fish, Is There A Text In This Class? and it strikes me that he shares with Barth a desire to hold on to the objectivity of the text (at least at times) but an emphasis on the moment of reception of the text by readers as the really meaningful moment, almost the time when the text “becomes” a Text. Barth could say something like that about the written Word of God.

Inventing Holy Days is a good thing

I'm sure you all read Revd Dr Peter Leithart's blog, but just in case, here he is very briefly making the Biblical case for holy days and adding extra ones without a special command of God. If you don't you're probably a gnostic who thinks nothing much of church history and forgets that God is winning the victory day to day, though you might not know it! Or something like that.

Where to put your Koran

I noticed today that the Korans in the Oak Hill library are not on the highest shelf: they were next to Stanley Fish's Is There A Text In This Class? for some reason, which for some reason seemed kinda appropriate.