Scripture as a diving board or the water in which we swim

One of the things that comes with being a preacher is that you are asked to listen to a lot of other preachers. I am not sure why this is the case, but people tend to tell me of a preacher they like and one that I "must listen to".

There are a sorts of preachers out there. In school we learned about a number of styles and archetypes. I can argue the theological underpinning of a 'dialogical sermon' until the cows come home. I can tell you about the "Lowry loop" and the difference between inductive and deductive preaching. 

No matter how many preachers I hear I continue to find there are two types. There are those who use scripture as a diving board and those who understand scripture as the water in which we swim. 

You can spot a diving board preacher rather easily. This is the person who reads scripture and then jumps to the point they want to make. They are found in the mainline and are most prominent in the "Bible Churches" I hear. Anytime someone gives you a dozen of verses from a half-dozen books over the course of a sermon, you are dealing with a diving board preacher. Anytime you hear a preacher who uses scripture as a jumping off point, they are diving.

Those who preach and understand scripture is not a jumping off point to deliver "keys to a healthy marriage" or "three steps to your best life now", these preachers understand scripture is the pool we swim in.

These are the preachers who are more story driven, more interested in delving into the richness of the scripture that they are not really interested in overlaying moralistic or "practical advice" on the scripture. They are far more interested in swimming in the text, even willing to tread in the water and not go anywhere. These preachers sometimes do not have a "point" because the verses read do not have a direction (see the end of Jonah).

Perhaps the church could use a little more swimmers and a lot less divers.

What is true learning? Not addition.

A church person once told me that they attend church in order to learn more and "grow in their faith". When pressed on what they mean when they say "grown in their faith" this church person said to grow in faith is to be built up in the grace and knowledge of Christ.

Like creativity, growing in Christ is about subtraction.

That sounds like a great church answer. 

Of course we are looking to be shaped in the ways of Christ. But let us address something that maybe we know but forget.

Learning is not about addition↬. It is a common understanding that when we learn it is like just filling up a container (our brain) with more information and data. This is a big reason we want our children to go to college, so they can learn "more" because there is a sense of lack without that education. 

If you have attended any level of education and reflect on your experience, it is clear that leaning is about subtraction rather than addition. 

We do not come to school with a lack but with an abundance of "what we know to be true" and the challenge of education is that it asks us to not add to "what we know to be true" but calls into question "what we know to be true". Learning is, at its core, about subtraction. 

When we attend church, and if we are there to grow in the knowledge and grace of Christ, then we must be reorient ourselves away from addition and toward subtraction or (ironically) we will never grow.

*On a separate note, this is post #800!

Giving up on the journey part 2

Last post touched on a desire of mine to move away from the metaphor of the spiritual life as a journey. To tear things down without offering alternatives to fill the space is not something that is ever productive and many times problematic. So an alternate metaphor to faith as going on a journey to faith as ice sculpting.

Ask a sculptor how they make a figure out of ice and they will tell you that they listen to the ice in order to understand how to work with it. The artist respects the shape and history of the ice in order to help bring out the potential it has within it. As the sculptor works with the ice, shapes take form.

The sculptor makes the ice. The ice is not the primary actor but it also not without input into the process.

There may be imperfections in the ice that result in an unintended fracture, but the sculptor works with it in order to find another way to shape the ice.

The ice is beautiful.

The ice is a paradox. It is hard yet also liquid. It is solid and temporary. It will melt in a blink of an eye. The sculptor lives on after ice melts.

While ice can be shaped it requires a bit of work on the part of the sculptor. And once the ice takes its form it resists changing. But it is not impossible.

And once melted, the sculptor can collect the water and use it again to create a new block with a new shape.

Although not perfect, the metaphor of faith as ice sculpting allows us to explore new ways to talk about faith and what it means to individuals and communities. We can pick it apart, as I have with the metaphor of journey, and find where it breaks down. But the beauty of this metaphor is that it is uncommon enough for everyone to know it is a metaphor and we can treat it as such.