It is summer. Well, almost. The natives are restless. The teacher is thinking of next year or if she is a homeschool mom she may be considering cleaning the bathroom. This summer I am reading Edith Schaeffer’s The Hidden Art of Homemaking.
Do you have a creative outlook ? Do you confine yourself to uncreative activities? What about your teaching? Is it creative or administrative? Does it nourish creativity in the souls and minds of your students and children?
Judging by the haste with which the arts are dismissed from schools when there are budget cuts, it must be the case that our culture does not value the creative outlook. It reminds me of what Shakespeare's Julius Caesar said about Cassius:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
I enjoyed this:
"We live by metaphor, even if we are not given to translating into words those complex combinations of emotions and the sensuous information our brains accumulate. The fine lyric poet reveals metaphors to us not as the baubles and decorative exempla of argument, but as the source and origin, the power before which mere statement pales because only metaphor can be both precisely concrete and richly suggestive, both utterly mundane and mysterious at the same time."
T. Alan Broughton
A Little NightMusic:
The Narrative of Metaphor
I pointed out a while ago, in part one of this post, that the great Apostle Paul is sometimes treated as though he had a gospel that differed from what Christ taught.
Some have gone so far as to argue that it was St. Paul who actually established Christianity as we know it historically, while Jesus had something more pure and heavenly in mind.
Others think that perhaps Christ was teaching the doctrines of the Millenial kingdom, while Paul was teaching the doctrines of the present church age.
I Corinthians 1-3 is a remarkably helpful passage for us when we want to understand the place of education for the Christian. It also helps us interpret other passages that are a little more difficult on first encounter.
Let me try to illustrate that conviction by reading John 3 in light of some things I think I've seen in I Corinthians 1-3.
Last Thursday I was sitting in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, nursing my sore feet, when a young man, with a tie, digital audio recorder, and a slightly bemused expression asked me if I would participate in a survey being conducted on behalf of the Museum. I said I would.
He sat next to me and began to ask me the same question over and over again.
"Why are museums important?"
My wife and I live about five miles outside a western town of less than 200 inhabitants. The town boasts a regional school, a post office, a diner, a small general store, and two non-denominational churches. Our nearest neighbor lives two miles away, and most of our neighbors raise wheat, beef cattle, and children. In other words, our community is probably what the modern media moguls visualize when they speak of “red states.”
According to the Jewish and therefore Christian tradition, God created the heavens and the earth by speaking it into being. When He did so, He made something other than Himself.
This is one of the most important things the Bible teaches, along with the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the death and resurrection of Christ.
St. Matthew composed his gospel primarily for the Jews of his day. In all likelihood, Matthew was a despised man. He was a tax collector (Matt. 9:9), which garnered as much admiration then as now. Both his Greek name (Matthew, which means “gift of Jehovah”) and his Hebrew name, Levi (Mark 2:13-14, Luke 5:27-28) rooted him in Jewish heritage. Yet, there he was, a Jew working for the Roman government.
As any high school English teacher can attest, the vast majority of today's young people would prefer to read contemporary (read: modern) literature rather than the classical and traditional works we're assigning. Regrettably, many of them would rather read The Hunger Games than The Iliad and Twilight rather than Romeo and Juliet. This is neither surprising nor new. But it's a problem against which we as teachers must brush daily. So with that in mind our question of the week is this:
How modern is too modern?