Three Down, Twenty-One To Go

Barring the small matter of an exam, I have now completed my first year of theological studies. I have only been studying one subject per semester this year (plus a mid-year two-week intensive subject) as I ease my way into the course program for the Bachelor of Theology degree; next year, I'll up the study load to two or three subjects per semester. But that will depend on what kind of part-time or casual work I can obtain, and will also necessitate me getting some guidance as to which subjects would be appropriate given I have now commenced my Period of Discernment (which will itself form the subject of another post).

But the fact that I've come to the end of first year unscathed (so far!) is a cause for reflection. What has happened to me this year? What do I know that I didn't know previously? What has been confirmed? What has been re-shaped or changed?

I think the process of discovery has, for me, emerged in the form of two broad categories. The first is that I have come to realise how much I don't actually know. Or, more correctly, I have come to understand (or, perhaps, more clearly perceive) the connections that unify the theological web into a single unity. I used to think of theological issues as distinct components, as specialised or discrete bits of knowledge. Now, however, I have come to understand that faith is built on a network of intermeshed contexts, without which, neither the singular nor the whole can be understood. Thus, for example, God cannot be approached outside the context of the Trinity, or apart from Biblical witness, or without reference to the philosophical underpinnings of early Christian theology, or the historical-social setting of the human experience of God, or, indeed, of the broken and inadequate power of human perception. These and many other factors interlink to produce a corporate understanding that underpins, broadens, and deepens the particular.

Personally, this realisation has, for me, been a source of especial excitement. The prospect that there is so much that I don't perceive or understand has not been at all daunting. On the contrary, it has given me a vision of huge vistas and possibilities; there is so much to explore, to learn, to know, a vast richness replete with opportunities for growth and understanding. Coming to realise one's ignorance - or, perhaps more benevolently, one's misguided thinking - is certainly a humbling experience. But this humility is never denigrating; on the contrary, it actually makes one more open, more ready and able to listen and to perceive. It's function is not to destroy confidence; rather, it serves the very purpose of whetting the appetite.

The second category of understanding which I have come to this year is the flip side of the first: not only have I realised how much I don't know, I have also come to understand how much I knew but either didn't know I knew or wasn't able to articulate. So many times during the year, as I've sat in lectures and tutorials listening to my teachers and fellow-students, I've thought to myself: of course! And the sudden light of understanding hasn't been that of revelation, but that of realisation: I had known all along, but hadn't been aware of the fact, or hadn't the means to provide that knowledge with expression. Nor was this simply a matter of appropriate technical language, although that certainly did apply in some cases. Rather, it was more a case of waking up to myself, of presenting to myself that which I already knew, but to which, for various reasons, I had blinded myself.

An example of this concerns sin, and in particular, the doctrine of original sin. This was a doctrine with which I had always had considerable difficulty, not least because I chose to adopt a strictly anthropological perspective and reject the notion of original sin on the basis that Adam and Eve never existed. Therefore, how could "original" humans have sinned, when there were never such persons, much less a Garden of Eden? Or, in the alternative, even if it could be supposed that such persons and such a time existed, how were the sins of my forebears my responsibility? This objection (among others) allowed me to turn away from Christianity for many years (although I never allowed it to turn me away from God and become an atheist); but some part of my mind knew this was semantic trickery, that I was actually being dishonest with myself. And, of course, my studies this year have revealed to me what I always knew to be true: that sin is not mere wrong doing, it is imagining that we can be self-sufficient, that we can exist on our own ground without God; and that original sin refers not to some imagined failure by imagined ancestors to obey God, but to the brokenness of humanity, to the fact that we sin because we are sinful, and not that we are sinful because (or when) we sin. Seen in this light (a light which had always been there, but against which I had turned the shutters of my mind), my objections immediately dissolved, and the knowledge that had for many years lurked in the back of my mind sprang to the forefront of my consciousness.

So, it has been in many ways a constructive and productive year; next year will be very busy, what with being married and the Period of Discernment, and the increased study load, but I hope and have confidence that the same growth, the same surprising discoveries, and the same developing awareness of self and God will continue.

Talk to you soon,

BB

Quote for the Day: ...keep the body within bounds as much as you can...(and) whatever you do, return from body to mind very soon. Exercise it day and night. Only a moderate amount of work is needed for it to thrive and develop. It is a form of exercise to which cold and heat and even old age are no obstacle. Cultivate an asset which the passing of time itself improves. (Seneca)