Last week (my, how time flies!), I had lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in a while. What made our time together so delightful was exactly what is written in the "About Me" section: "I like sharing ideas with people so we can come up with new ideas." Mark had several brilliant insights, a few of which I will write about now and in days to come.
We talked a bit about The Books of The Bible, a recent release from International Bible Society. One of the key features of that work is the lack of chapter and verse numbering. Mark noted that he had judged translations based on how verses stacked up to each other. You see this all the time in Christian publishing or in sermons. The author or pastor will have their (okay, his) five favorite translations on the desk. They'll page through all of them to find their favorite nuance (and I said people don't pay attention to nuance!). Whichever translation fits the agenda the best makes it in. In fact, English translations sometimes differ widely in how a verse reads. Mark's insight is that if we read that verse in context in both translations, more than likely, the giant variance will vanish. When we read Scripture and track an author's argument over a longer section, the meaning becomes much more clear. The meaning of a verse or sentence will turn on a solitary word, but a paragraph will lend much more nuance to the thought of a single sentence.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Leaving Children Behind
The "No Child Left Behind" Act is up for revision. If you've been paying attention at all over the last few years, there has been great outcry over "more bricks, no straw" provisions, especially from educators. However, I will say that it's probably good to provide accountability for failing schools and seek improvement so that, well, we don't leave any children behind. A Kingdom value if I ever heard one!
Leaving out comment on the draconian practices of the act, the thing that really gets me is the fact that this is all based on standardized testing. I'm a bright enough fellow, but when I was a kid taking the Iowa Basics, my favorite pastime every fall was seeing if I could get 99th percentile on all categories. I think I may have actually made it as a freshman on the Stanford Achievement Test (or some such device). I scored well enough on my PSAT to make it worth my while to take the SAT. I got a very nice score there. Fine enough. But the ACT kills me. I had a (literally) jaw-dropping score after my first attempt. (A kid forced me to tell him.) However, in Oklahoma, there are score threshholds where if you cross them, you basically get an absolutely full ride at OU. Not knowing where I was going to college, I took the ACT again and got a ridiculously sick score. (Hang with me, this is all leading somewhere.)
So in college, I wanted to take as much Greek as possible, and I found that taking CLEP (credit by examination) tests was pretty convenient. (Let's see, take standardized tests, which I love, pay sixty bucks, get three to six hours of college credit so I can take something I care about . . . I'm in!) I regret not taking it now, but History of Western Civilization 2 seemed pretty dispensible. I signed up for the CLEP test, and didn't really bother studying, because I didn't think it was likely I would be better prepared trying to learn the "second half" of the history of western civ in a couple of weeks. I went into the test knowing that if you have absolutely no idea on a question, leave it blank; if you can narrow it down to three answers, take a stab, because statistically, you will come out ahead despite a one-fifth point deduction for a wrong answer. 120 questions. I left two blank. I was confident on one question. I totally guessed on 117 others. I left the test feeling quite ill. How could I have gotten myself into such a debacle. Sixty bucks down the drain. A few weeks later, I got an envelope from ETS in my mailbox. Filled with disappointment masterfully mixed with dread, I tore open the envelope there in the campus post office. To my utter shock, I got a 550 (or so) out of 800, enough for three hours of credit.
For me, this stellar cheating of the system (no actual cheating involved; just "good test-taking skills"), cast doubt on my previous achievements. I'm good at taking tests, and I probably should have exploited that more. But what about the poor kids who don't know how to take tests? They may be getting along in their education just fine, but they don't get into a competitive college because American College Testing wrote an assessment just for me. And this certainly calls into question how we assess whole schools per the NCLB Act.
I would much prefer a discipleship based model of school assessment. Get great principals who will help form great teachers under them. These great teachers will help the students along in their educations, and will obsoletize any need for silly standardized-test-based assessment programs. Okay, madly idealistic, I know. And I know we have a massive teacher shortage. (I'm thankful my wife is in school right now to be a high school math teacher. She's gonna be great!) Good grief. With all my complaining, I think I'm feeling a tug into public education. I'll have to think about this.
Leaving out comment on the draconian practices of the act, the thing that really gets me is the fact that this is all based on standardized testing. I'm a bright enough fellow, but when I was a kid taking the Iowa Basics, my favorite pastime every fall was seeing if I could get 99th percentile on all categories. I think I may have actually made it as a freshman on the Stanford Achievement Test (or some such device). I scored well enough on my PSAT to make it worth my while to take the SAT. I got a very nice score there. Fine enough. But the ACT kills me. I had a (literally) jaw-dropping score after my first attempt. (A kid forced me to tell him.) However, in Oklahoma, there are score threshholds where if you cross them, you basically get an absolutely full ride at OU. Not knowing where I was going to college, I took the ACT again and got a ridiculously sick score. (Hang with me, this is all leading somewhere.)
So in college, I wanted to take as much Greek as possible, and I found that taking CLEP (credit by examination) tests was pretty convenient. (Let's see, take standardized tests, which I love, pay sixty bucks, get three to six hours of college credit so I can take something I care about . . . I'm in!) I regret not taking it now, but History of Western Civilization 2 seemed pretty dispensible. I signed up for the CLEP test, and didn't really bother studying, because I didn't think it was likely I would be better prepared trying to learn the "second half" of the history of western civ in a couple of weeks. I went into the test knowing that if you have absolutely no idea on a question, leave it blank; if you can narrow it down to three answers, take a stab, because statistically, you will come out ahead despite a one-fifth point deduction for a wrong answer. 120 questions. I left two blank. I was confident on one question. I totally guessed on 117 others. I left the test feeling quite ill. How could I have gotten myself into such a debacle. Sixty bucks down the drain. A few weeks later, I got an envelope from ETS in my mailbox. Filled with disappointment masterfully mixed with dread, I tore open the envelope there in the campus post office. To my utter shock, I got a 550 (or so) out of 800, enough for three hours of credit.
For me, this stellar cheating of the system (no actual cheating involved; just "good test-taking skills"), cast doubt on my previous achievements. I'm good at taking tests, and I probably should have exploited that more. But what about the poor kids who don't know how to take tests? They may be getting along in their education just fine, but they don't get into a competitive college because American College Testing wrote an assessment just for me. And this certainly calls into question how we assess whole schools per the NCLB Act.
I would much prefer a discipleship based model of school assessment. Get great principals who will help form great teachers under them. These great teachers will help the students along in their educations, and will obsoletize any need for silly standardized-test-based assessment programs. Okay, madly idealistic, I know. And I know we have a massive teacher shortage. (I'm thankful my wife is in school right now to be a high school math teacher. She's gonna be great!) Good grief. With all my complaining, I think I'm feeling a tug into public education. I'll have to think about this.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
A Pint to Drink, a Pipe to Smoke and Some Theology/Philosophy to Discuss
I just read a very interesting review/opinion on the book Captivating by Stasi and John Eldredge by CT columnist Agnieszka Tennant (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/august/25.60.html). It helped me to further clarify my conflicting thoughts on the Eldredge movement. The premise of this movement is that "in the heart of every man is a desperate desire for a battle to fight, an adventure to live, and a beauty to rescue" and "Every woman longs for three things: to be swept up into a romance, to play an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, and to be the Beauty of the story."
Let it be clear up front that my wife falls into the Captivating camp, so I know there is validity in these thoughts. I first encountered this thinking when I read Wild at Heart and Sacred Romance around 2000 and thought, "Great! Some easy handles for holding the world!" In 2001, I moved to Colorado and met a young woman who helped shatter those neat categories. She seemed more Wild at Heart than Captivating. And as outdoorsy and adventurous as I can be, I soon found my three life themes to be a pint to drink, a pipe to smoke, and some theology/philosophy to discuss. Does that make me Mild at Heart? Probably. Less of a man? I hope not.
I then applied the 80/20 rule to the Eldredge scheme. (80% of men are Wild at Heart and 80% of women are Captivating.) That makes it possible to have a best-selling book franchise of monolithic thinking, since it merely pisses off the 20%, and the 80% just drink it in while shaking their heads in pity at the cranky 20% (if they're aware of them at all). If authors would be a bit more nuanced in their arguments, saying, "Most women long for three things:", they would be able to say they have integrity, but unfortunately for them, they probably wouldn't sell books.
Ms. Tennant's CT article carried my understanding of the Eldredge movement a bit further by casting some light on a sort of reverse gnosticism. The emphasis seems to be on extreme physicality, between the adventures for men and the "beauty" for women (which is more about prettiness; a nice catch!). It's interesting that the heart of evangelical Christianity has been all about spiritual development and desire to get out of this damned body so we can celebrate (what, I don't know) as disembodied souls for all eternity. Now we have the Eldredges saying it's all about adventure and beauty, some very physical things. (To be fair, they talk a lot about relating to God, which surely fits neatly into a spiritual category.) But can't we bring the pendulum back toward the center and engage true humanity, body and spirit? I know that's asking a lot, but the world works much better when it's nuanced. [rant off]
Let it be clear up front that my wife falls into the Captivating camp, so I know there is validity in these thoughts. I first encountered this thinking when I read Wild at Heart and Sacred Romance around 2000 and thought, "Great! Some easy handles for holding the world!" In 2001, I moved to Colorado and met a young woman who helped shatter those neat categories. She seemed more Wild at Heart than Captivating. And as outdoorsy and adventurous as I can be, I soon found my three life themes to be a pint to drink, a pipe to smoke, and some theology/philosophy to discuss. Does that make me Mild at Heart? Probably. Less of a man? I hope not.
I then applied the 80/20 rule to the Eldredge scheme. (80% of men are Wild at Heart and 80% of women are Captivating.) That makes it possible to have a best-selling book franchise of monolithic thinking, since it merely pisses off the 20%, and the 80% just drink it in while shaking their heads in pity at the cranky 20% (if they're aware of them at all). If authors would be a bit more nuanced in their arguments, saying, "Most women long for three things:", they would be able to say they have integrity, but unfortunately for them, they probably wouldn't sell books.
Ms. Tennant's CT article carried my understanding of the Eldredge movement a bit further by casting some light on a sort of reverse gnosticism. The emphasis seems to be on extreme physicality, between the adventures for men and the "beauty" for women (which is more about prettiness; a nice catch!). It's interesting that the heart of evangelical Christianity has been all about spiritual development and desire to get out of this damned body so we can celebrate (what, I don't know) as disembodied souls for all eternity. Now we have the Eldredges saying it's all about adventure and beauty, some very physical things. (To be fair, they talk a lot about relating to God, which surely fits neatly into a spiritual category.) But can't we bring the pendulum back toward the center and engage true humanity, body and spirit? I know that's asking a lot, but the world works much better when it's nuanced. [rant off]
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Faith in the Storyteller
For all the interesting or enjoyable things one can take from Harry Potter, partway through book six, I took a lesson about faith. I noted in the last post that "faithful" means, at least in one sense, "adhering to a covenant." A more common sense of "faith" would be "trust." Well, I think both of these work together when we think about stories.
At various points in the Harry Potter series, there are very intense moments, and I'm left wondering how good will survive long enough to face evil, and hopefully conquer it. Maybe I'm a lame reader, but I look for things to hold onto. I say, "Take a deep breath, we're only in book six. We know since there are seven books that Harry has to survive till at least the seventh." And that got me through those earlier episodes. As I've gotten to know the characters in the Harry Potter books, and more importantly for this discussion, JK Rowling's writing style, I have begun to feel like I can trust Rowling to do the right thing. I haven't finished the last book yet, so I can safely and speculatively say that I believe good will triumph over evil somehow. [Please no spoilers in the comments, for everyone's sake!]
Where is faith here? Obviously, I have faith in the storyteller. But why? Why is the storyteller faithful? There's an implicit covenant in epic storytelling that good will emerge victorious in the end. (I'm aware of the ironic twists in many of the most enjoyable and popular stories in which evil triumphs, if for no other reason than to avoid a Hollywood ending. But we're talking about a certain type of story here.) Rowling is making a good showing of keeping the covenant, at least as far as I've read. She's caused me to have faith that she will bring the story to a fitting conclusion.
[insert lame analogical tie here]
The faith lesson for me illustrates how YHWH, the Creator, sees good (his side) triumphing over evil. He tells a story all the way through the Bible where, at times, evil appears to triumph. But if he is as good a storyteller as I think he is, I know good will win. The difference between the Bible and Harry Potter is the story of the Bible is still happening. I find myself caught up in the story because I'm serving YHWH in my life today, and not declaring allegiance to Dumbledore/Harry vs. Voldemort. The story of the Bible continues; the storyteller is faithful; he will keep his covenant to restore the creation to its original good state; I place my faith in the storyteller and seek to be faithful to the covenant of his story.
At various points in the Harry Potter series, there are very intense moments, and I'm left wondering how good will survive long enough to face evil, and hopefully conquer it. Maybe I'm a lame reader, but I look for things to hold onto. I say, "Take a deep breath, we're only in book six. We know since there are seven books that Harry has to survive till at least the seventh." And that got me through those earlier episodes. As I've gotten to know the characters in the Harry Potter books, and more importantly for this discussion, JK Rowling's writing style, I have begun to feel like I can trust Rowling to do the right thing. I haven't finished the last book yet, so I can safely and speculatively say that I believe good will triumph over evil somehow. [Please no spoilers in the comments, for everyone's sake!]
Where is faith here? Obviously, I have faith in the storyteller. But why? Why is the storyteller faithful? There's an implicit covenant in epic storytelling that good will emerge victorious in the end. (I'm aware of the ironic twists in many of the most enjoyable and popular stories in which evil triumphs, if for no other reason than to avoid a Hollywood ending. But we're talking about a certain type of story here.) Rowling is making a good showing of keeping the covenant, at least as far as I've read. She's caused me to have faith that she will bring the story to a fitting conclusion.
[insert lame analogical tie here]
The faith lesson for me illustrates how YHWH, the Creator, sees good (his side) triumphing over evil. He tells a story all the way through the Bible where, at times, evil appears to triumph. But if he is as good a storyteller as I think he is, I know good will win. The difference between the Bible and Harry Potter is the story of the Bible is still happening. I find myself caught up in the story because I'm serving YHWH in my life today, and not declaring allegiance to Dumbledore/Harry vs. Voldemort. The story of the Bible continues; the storyteller is faithful; he will keep his covenant to restore the creation to its original good state; I place my faith in the storyteller and seek to be faithful to the covenant of his story.
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