A "difference that makes a difference"

The three exes of learning: explanation

As a general rule, I would urge that you never trust any teacher who says that there are three-of-anything, especially if they start with the same letter or syllable.  ...but, of course, I'm different, so I'll say that there are three domains of learning

• Explanation
• Exploration
• Experimentation

Neat, huh?

The trouble is that I reckon that there's a fourth domain, intimacy (and I can't find another ex- word for that! :-(  but never mind.  Intimacy is that process and moment when we draw near to our God, when we hear His voice (or not) but somehow know that He is close by and that somehow, our life will never be quite the same again.  I have not explanation for this, no clever words to teach you how to do it (I doubt that you need them)...

but now on to my three exes!  tada!!

Let's do the most difficult one first.  It's the one that is the most common in the churches that I've been to. although I suspect that it might be less dominating in other traditions.  It is potentially the most dangerous to our learning journey and yet it is championed by almost all clerical errors.  Explanation, usually done by one person, who's spent a long time studying and who knows about whatever he (or she) is explaining.  What's the danger of explanation?  I hear you ask (well I don't actually, 'cos I suspect that you've read the previous post (rant) and so can guess what I think the problem with explanations are.

There are three attendant dangers to explanatory teaching/learning. They do not mean that explanation is unnecessary or that it is bad or that explainers are bad people.  It's just that whatever we do, there are always unintended consequences.  We only ever own half of our actions, the other half is created by those around us and explanations have a way of provoking unhealthy responses from our action-creating-partners.  So the four problems:

1. If you watch any soaps on TV, you may notice that no scene lasts more than about 90 seconds. This is because some clever researcher has found that most of us can't concentrate on one thing for more than about 90 seconds.  So why preachers, oops sorry, explainers think that we can listen for 15 or 20 minutes (or even 5 minutes for the quick preachers, oops sorry explainers) to one voice, often without any visual cues or support, is either folly or arrogance.
2. Explanations have a tendency to provide people with answers and nothing, but nothing kills off learning quite like answers.  If you have an answer that looks suspiciously like the answer then you just don't need to do any more learning do you?  And before any putative explainer says "But I don't preach, sorry, explain like that... sorry but you don't control how you're listened to! You may studiously try to avoid giving answers, but that does not say... in fact I'd almost certainly predict that the majority of your listeners will attribute to you the giving of the answer.  Now of course they may disagree with your answer, but answer they will make it and that'll be the end of the learning.
3. Recently, a friend from church came up to me and asked when I was next preaching.  She told me that she always looked forward to my sermons.  Vain pleasure at this complement was only just covered by my discomfort at the thought of another sermon.  I told her that I didn't enjoy preaching, except that I'm an appalling show off, that I thought it was a waste of time and that I suspected that people wouldn't ever remember the two or three questions with which I always finished my sermons.  "But everyone enjoys your sermons, Caroline they're fun but they're also challenging" "that's just the point," I replied, "They're fun, and folk settle back in their pews for a few minutes stimulating, thoughtful, funny talk and then walk away without considering the questions that they were supposed to take away and ponder of the following week.
4. The final trouble with explanations is that they have been such an ubiquitous form of teaching over the last 100-150 years that most of us have no idea what other ways of learning their might be. Explanations drown out other learning methods.  They squeeze out other learning contexts like bindweed squeezes the life out of plants in the garden... and bind week looks quite nice, just like a sermon. 

Is there nothing good about explanations?

..well, occasionally they can

• open our eyes to see new things
• start new and different conversations
• disturb our comfortable passiveness

but to do so the explanations have to be

• located and shaped by the listener's experience and learning needs, not some formal, top-down teaching programme.
• judged and used according to the difference they make to listeners' actions, not their head knowledge
• followed by inquiry and ongoing engagement at a level that sees the difference that is made, that encourages progress, re-explaining and extending bits that are needed as disciples' contexts change

(that all sounds like a conversation rather than a monologue to me)

and I'm afraid that I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that has happened in my life and I've listened to some of the great preachers of the last 30 years.

I'll get onto some of the more positive forms of learning in the next few days...

Preaching and the making of disciples

I don't like sermons.

..which can make life just a bit of a paradox when I'm asked to preach but there we are, a trendy postmodern like me can handle paradox (so I hide behind one whenever an inconsistency or contradiction comes my way! :-)

So, why don't I like preaching.  Essentially because I believe that it is antithetical to learning and I believe that the Christian's prime calling is to be a disciple (i.e. a learner).  "But" you exclaim, "how can people learn if they haven't heard?" ..or some such paraphrase of the apostle Paul.

Learning is a relational activity.  Learning is about going on in relation with others; it's a process of being able to take what others say and add or develop that into action or words.  So, if we want to learn and foster learning within the Christian family then we will look at what sort of relations create what sort of relations.  Certain ways of relating will further learning. Other ways, however well and prayerfully intentioned, will damage learning.  Preaching damages learning and so it damages discipleship.

The Brazilian educationalist, Paulo Friere, challenged what he called a banking type of learning, where teachers transferred something called knowledge into empty vessels - the learners.  He typified the relations in such a form of education as being subject-object relations, where the teacher was the active subject and the learner was rendered a passive object.  His main argument was that such learning was oppressive, giving huge power to the teacher (or leader) and leaving the learner in a dependent relationship to that teacher/leader. He illustrated this by reference to revolutionary movements in Latin America.  He had a further point.  These kind of relations just did not foster learning; they did not enable to the learner to be emancipated (or empowered) into their own learning and self-determined action.

My argument against sermons is this... that whatever the intentions of the preacher (and I'm sure that many preachers will try to point out that sermons are not lectures or simple teaching activities) they create relations of passivity amongst the vast majority of any congregation.  Maybe that's the fault of the congregation members - I don't know - but who we are, and the learning we do, is like an improvised performance created together with those around us, with whom we are in relation. Think of it like a dance, if our dance partner moves one way, then we will follow or the dance comes to an end.  It is the same with learning, if one travels as the active teacher then others will be rendered as passive 'learners'.

It doesn't have to be this way, there are other ways of learning and we can all contribute to learning relations that change us and the world we make. I've blogged about learning loads of times (forgive me if I've repeated myself) but to me, this is crucial.  The Church has, for too long, had converts, communicants, adherents or the faithful.  Too often, we have mentioned disciple in the same breath as discipline and obedience.  That's not wrong but it misses out on the wonderfully emancipatory potential of the gospel; that wonderful, learning pilgrimage from here and now through eternity... everyday a new opportunity to learn a new way of being, the journey where we have all eternity to explore infinity. 

hmmm, a rant I'm afraid... and I fear another series on learning coming upon me

The dog that didn't bark

A while ago, a friend of mine, called Terry, bought a dog.  He told me that he had wanted a dog for a long time.  He lived on his own, worked at home a lot and he wanted a companionable dog, who would be quiet and docile but be really friendly and loving.  Finally, after several failed attempts, Terry phoned me to say he thought that he'd found the right dog and would I fancy going to pick him up.  The dog, a small cross breed, was very quiet but happily came to you, wagging his tail when you called.  Perhaps I should have be worried when Terry decided to call him Butch.

Anyway, we got Butch home and Terry made a fuss of him.  I used to visit quite often and occasionally would take Butch out for a walk. He was a very docile old character, pootling along behind or just in front of me, sniffing around, occasionally scratching at rabbit holes to see if anyone was at home.  I confess that I was amused to think what on earth Butch would do if he ever met a rabbit... run in terror most likely!

A couple of times I went for a walk with Terry and Butch and watched as Terry tried to teach Butch how to play fetch. I lost count of the number of tennis balls that I had to go and fetch myself as Terry remonstrated with his dog about not rushing off to fetch the ball or the stick.  "Do you know a strange thing?" asked Terry, "He doesn't bark! There are times when I think that he's really a cat in a dog shape!" Terry sounded disappointed. "But Terry, you told the kennel that you wanted a quiet dog who wouldn't disturb you when you were working," I said.  "Well, yes but not this quiet; I want a real dog who barks and runs around and does doggy things."

The relationship went from bad to worse. Terry was now sure that he wanted a dog that barked and Butch didn't bark.  I watched on, puzzled, for it seemed to me that Terry was cross because Butch was the quiet dog that he had asked for. At some moment Terry's ideas had changed and he blamed Butch for not being the dog that he wanted now.

Tim van Eyken

Ages ago, Paul Roberts (via his blog) directed me to Tim van Eyken's myspace site and his song John Barleycorn.  Ever since, I've returned to the site playing John Barleycorn and Australia, sometimes more than once. It's just great music.

Paul liked the ambivalence of the lyrics but its the music I enjoy.  It starts off with a simple riff on the base strings - it just draws me in, there's so much anticipation in the opening bars... and then an electric guitar comes in with simple chords... I don't know enough about music to explain what's going on but it's just right. Do go and have a listen here

On Careers and being a Kohathite

I found myself in the book of Numbers today... not, I confess a book of the bible that is etched on my memory but I'm trying to read through the whole bible a few pages at a time and round about now I'm in Numbers and I read about the Kohathites.

"Very good Caroline, so what?" I hear you ask

Well, to explain, the Kohathites were a clan of the Levite tribe of Israel and they had the special task of clearing up the mess after the priests had done their bit.  Very important I'm sure but not what I'd call a great career move. And that was when it struck me... their work was chosen for them because of their birth not because of some career choice plan. How far removed we are from parts of the bible.  Could you imagine young people today accepting that their role in life was determined by their birth - no get out clause, not career progression, no professional development...

As I write that, of course I'm reminded that the great majority of the world are condemned by poverty or oppression to live out one particular role.  But that's part of my point, I suspect that most of the people reading this post would see being consigned to one particular role because of their birth to be an oppression, to be a negative, to be something wrong.  But the Kohathites were called to be the clearer-uppers, whilst other clans were called to be the carriers of tent fabric or tent poles.  This wasn't a negative thing this was just their place within the economy of God's people.

Today, we all have careers.  They may not be very exciting careers, in personal hygiene, social or healthcare but no matter how lowly, we are encouraged to see our work as a part of a career, and to seek opportunities for training, developing and bettering ourselves.  We are to seek progression, moving up the ladder, achieving ambitions, fulfilment.

The Kohathites, on the other hand, just had their place within the economy of God's people, they cleared up after the priests. I guess they were 'paid' for their work, maybe some of them became leaders of clearing teams. Might they have had shifts? "Oh good grief, it's Eleazar on duty tonight; he always makes more of a mess with the sacrificial lambs than his father does"...

and a question starts to wrestle it's way to the front of my mind

if the economy of God's people is based on people being in their place, and doing their work because of their calling (and not because of some desire for bettering themselves and progressing their careers) might we occasionally damage the church when we go about developing our careers?

Church in a way that I'd like it...

I knew st long ago when we both helped out on CYFA houseparties - he used to play the most wonderful boogie-woogie version of "We really want to thank you Lord" - huh, guess that dates us but

he now gets to do church in ways that I can only hope about read here and here for some terrific ideas.  The quiet days one is just terrific, church as enabling rather than as entertaining.

Belonging?

I recently had a brief email correspondence with Richard White.  Richard has long been one of my favourite bloggers and I miss his blog but enjoy what he writes at Dream. He always writes something that is imbued with encouragement and spiritual loyalty and ambition for our God.  I find my heart warms to him and I enjoy sharing his pilgrimage (even if only virtually together).

I mentioned in my email that I often read the Dream posts but, because I wasn't a part of the Dream set up in the North West, I didn't think it right to comment.  Richard's reply was typically generous, pointing out that openness was a core Dream Value (those are well worth reading by the way).

Now that got me thinking, if we're serious about creating fellowships that are strong on community, welcome and belonging... what part do boundaries play.  If I can not commit to or contribute to the physical life of that community in an ongoing manner, is it helpful to dip in and out?  We are all aware, I suspect, of the problems that boundaries cause in our world and daily life but do they also help create belonging and community as they ask more for participants than the dilettante's occasional visit?

hmmm, dunno.... gonna thing id over my cuppa tea an toast...

Free Market Capitalism assessed in Ecclesiastes

I read this today, Ecclesiastes 5 10-11

Those who love money never have enough;
those who love wealth are never satisfied with their income.
This too is meaningless.

As goods increase,
so do those who consume them.
And what benefit are they to the owners
except to feast their eyes on them?

I'm told that in Britain, we've never been richer.  Yet, people many people in London can not afford to buy a roof to put over their heads.  Even reasonably prosperous young people are having to share homes in order to be able to afford them. For, as our cash income has increased, so have house prices - only faster. So, "as goods increase so do those who consume them".  Has cash income growth increased our riches or just required us to spend more keeping up with the field?

Bill and Mary work hard...
very hard...

Of course they need to rest and relax... a sabbath...
which they take in the Maldives

they have to work very hard
to afford the flights and the exotic hotel
they have to work very hard indeed;
they take on extra responsibilities,
and every now and again, the need
to "get away from it all"
to relax,
so they take weekend breaks
(after all, the flights are so cheap)

They work hard to be able to afford these
(increasingly regular)
weekend breaks.
They work very hard indeed,
they drive themselves
to succeed
and be rewarded.

No wonder they need to think about that second holiday,
after all they need quality time with the kids
(all that hard work and long hours
means they don't see so much of them in the week)

They feel bad about that...
so they work hard
very hard indeed
to pay for the privileges
they never enjoyed themselves as children;
they work hard,
very hard indeed
to pay for the clubs, computers and clutter
for their kids to enjoy

They never thought of themselves as
loving money

but

[they] never have enough;
[they may not love] wealth
[but they] are never satisfied with their income.
[and sometimes they think]
This too is meaningless.

As [their] goods increase,
so do [lifestyle choices that] consume them.
And what benefit are they to [Bill and Mary]
except to feast their eyes on them?

and wave the momentary things,
like love and hope and belonging,
goodbye

Facebook

Now just how sad is this?

Would you like to become my friend? then follow the link in the side panel (just below 'about') to Caroline's Facebook!

I'm not sure what I'm up to with Facebook - I registered initially since it was the only way of getting to talk to my daughter in France!  But she's avoiding me - I guess it's just too uncool to link to a middle aged parent!

So, if you want to join my two friends (my son Pat has over 40), can you see how sad I am :-)  sigh

Learning, Community and the Body of Christ

Over at her place, Kathryn has been talking about holidays, Christian festivals, church attendance and then what it isthat we do that makes us church. Not a complex or tricky topic there then! :-) I've joined in the conversation (as Caroline Too, I always seem to be the second Caroline on every other blog, but not here! :-) This whole conversation reminded me of something that I've been wanting to write about but which, if I'm honest, I didn't quite know what to say.  But there we are; never fearing to tread where ignorance and a half baked idea beckon....

I've been reading Dallas Willard's book "The Divine Conspiracy" recently.  It's a terrific book although it badly need editing; by my estimate it has about 150 pages too many and Willard often loses his overall theme as he circles round a detail, but there we are ... he's a professor and I'm only a lecturer, so what do I know...

Anyway, I've just reached the chapter that I've been looking forward to most, On Being a Disciple or student of Jesus. It's here, I'm hoping, that he'll unpack his wonderful description of us Christians as being apprentices of Jesus. However, he starts the chapter by asserting that if we are disciples we must have a teacher.  He strongly assumes that for every learner there must be a teacher and so rests on a deeper assumption that learners are different and distinct to teachers. (I'm sure that he would retort that teachers can {should} be learners too but that is not my point here.)  What I disliked about this opening argument was the distinction between the role of teacher and learner.  It carried with it another assumption, that we are individual learners, that our learning is done individually, as an intra-psychic process (inside us so to speak).  If you start with that assumption learning becomes a process of transmitting knowledge, skilled practice and/or values from one person to another.  There are all sorts of pedagogical problems with that assumption but I want to focus on just one: the individualism.

Imagine a couple of people getting into a rowing boat, so that they could learn to row competitively.  I'm talking about those long racing boats you see at the Olympics or the annual boat race on the Thames.  The two friends paddle out to the middle of the river.  Then one of them starts to lengthen their stroke, they use their sliding seat, try to feather their blade (I do hope that I'm using the right terms, I can only go on what the commentators say! I've never rowed competitively). Whilst one of the rowers, tries to become a racing rower; the other just continues to paddle along, dipping their oar in the water, looking around at the scenery, enjoying the sights and sounds of the river.  I would suggest that the rower who is trying to develop their rowing skills will get nowhere until the other rower starts to take the learning seriously.

You see learning is a social process, it is not an individualistic process of acquiring fact or skills. Learning, and especially the learning involved in being a disciple of Jesus, is done together, in the body of Christ.  In our little vignette, it was not that the second rower was deliberately stopping the other learn. It was not a failure of teaching.  It was not that anything intentional was done.  Rather, it was just a crucial point: that we do not learn to become on our own.  We have to be a part of a learning community and our every action (from the most trivial to the most profound) will either help or hinder that discipleship.

There are things that I do that hinder others' learning.  For example, I'm quite good at explaining things and I'm very good with words.  I can, to my shame, be a formidable arguer.  If you are sitting in a room with me where you think that I may be wrong about something, I'm not an easy person to argue with.  Additionally, at my worst, I can be very good at giving the answer to problems or issues.  If the answer has been given what need is there to search (learn) for your own answer?  Most frustratingly for me, on the occasions when I'm thinking out loud, when I'm reaching toward an idea but still aware of the muddle in my mind, I can still sound as if I'm giving the answer.  So, sadly, unintentionally, I block the learning of others.

On other occasions, I can help learning.  Passing by someone at coffee, I ask how they are and listen as they talk out a problem. On other occasions, I have got enthusiastic about another friend's ideas and that enthusiasm has been the spur to try out something new. Then again, I've told stories that got someone thinking... or smiled at someone who was just about to give up... or irritated someone who mumbled to themselves, "I'll show her". It is often not my intentional actions or words that help people learn but just my presence, at a particular moment; my presence within the emerging relationship of me, them and God that allowed the learning-to-become to start, continue or accelerate.

We are social 'becomers'.  We are not self contained individuals.  We improvise our lives together, not on our own little stages.  The Xhosa word and concept, Ubuntu, captures this powerfully "I am through your".  This is not a nice, twee "wouldn't it be good if we could all get along", this is just the very nature of us, as created in the image of the Trinitarian God. 

And this, Kathryn, is what I think the church family is about.  and it is for this reason that I so oppose the practice of large gatherings, all facing in the same direction, all facing one or two people who direct our activities. It is also why I'm uncomfortable with the way we currently practise the eucharist in Anglican churches with its centring on the Priest. For in all this, we obstruct the transitory, fragmented, momentary interplay of people enacting learning together; provoking, stimulating, inviting, encouraging each other to do more, to travel a different road, to carry on, to ....

The Russian literary critic, Mikhail Bakhtin, wrote about how Dostoevsky's novels documented the development of a hero as they inter-played (improvised) with other characters.  These were, he suggested, polyphonic (many voiced) novels and at the centre of them, at the centre of the plot, at the centre of the development of the characters was carnival.  And in carnival the rules were dropped and, within some preset guidelines, people could explore and play at different roles. 

Now, don't exaggerate what I'm saying here.  I'm not saying that Christians should overthrow all rules. Rather, I am saying that we should design our moments of relating in ways that promote carnivalesque relations. These relations will not be structured around a preaching programme or a fixed set of liturgical actions.  Instead these relations should be typified by a concern to help the other in their pilgrimage, a desire to encourage, a concern for the other's safety if they're heading down a risky route, an experience of walking alongside, being available to catch your friend falls...  and none of these actions are promoted by the conventional church gathering around a single (monologic) set agenda.

One final word, for this post is already too long. I can almost hear some readers saying that many church goers would not accept the potential chaos that is implied in my ideas above. Many worshippers value a nice, ordered service. I agree.  But the correct response to that point is to ask how we could help such people move from that position or how we could provide for them as we move the overall tenor of church family life away.  It won't be easy and it's likely to be messy but it will, more accurately reflect the three year walk Jesus had with his disciples - sometimes fitting with the conventional ways in the synagogues, sometimes responding to the opportune prompting of a question or event but, for the most part, walking along the highways and byways of first century Palestine.