No sentences in heaven

Stanley Fish thinks that, if there is an eternity, it has no sentences.

It is the inevitability and shadow of death that provides life with a narrative arc, and provides moments in that narrative with a meaning; for the meaning of a moment - its distinctiveness - is a function of the place prepared for it by a past and the place waiting for it in a future that has (again, like a sentence) a terminal point. We say to ourselves, "Yes, this is where it was all leading" or "This is the beginning of something that will, I hope, flower." Without the specter and period of death, there would be no urgency of accomplishment, no expectations to be realised or disappointed, no anxieties to be allayed. Each moment would bear an equal weight or equal weightlessness . . . Significance would not be in the process of emerging, sometimes clear, sometimes not; rather, it would be evenly distributed and therefore not be significance - a concept that requires that some moments stand out - at all. In short, there would be no sentences*

I do not share his certainty, and, though I was at first beguiled by the romantic notion of life's narrative arc, it is frail comfort for those who mourn. One thing I am sure of is that eternal life will be good. And perhaps our experience of time will not be so wholly different to what we encounter now, for it will be this earth and heaven recreated, not something other. I like to think that there will be sentences in heaven, but if there are not, then in their place a jewel of greater seriousness and pleasure will be given.


*How to Write a Sentence, 2011, page 154.

Favour and vengeance

Here are two sermons preached by my Pastor and Assistant Pastor. They are both about Isaiah, but their subject matter is very different. One is about the year of the Lord's favour and the surpassing richness of what we have in God (Isaiah 55). The other is about the day of God's vengeance and the goodness of evil's grisly end (Isaiah 63:1-6). Both are long, punchy, emotional and profoundly relevant to ordinary life. I commend them to you.

Connected, cocooned and beguiled

This is another post about 'place'. I know I rave about Tassie rather a lot, but I'm trying to get my head around this over-familiar place I call home. Last Monday I spent walking to Shipstern Bluff, an exquisite little walk. For the first time I found myself able to tramp along, carrying a pack and wearing walking boots, without feeling I'd lost my femininity somewhere back down the track. Now I'm not saying I was a Lady - you gotta be an urchin child.

Bushwalking makes sense in Hobart. The mountain is a permanent part of our visual environment, so the idea of going for a walk in the bush seems sensible enough. Now I think that the way Hobart people embrace nature flows on into our relationships with people too. Nature's presence - as well as Hobart's creative spirit and small population - gives Hobart people a certain groundedness and calm, and a warm and trusting attitude to the people around them. You're always expecting to share some connection with a stranger, and, even if you don't, you are joined by the shared environment - to the west, the mountain; to the east, the river. It's hard to get that attitude living in a big city, where the buildings are inchoate and the only thing connecting people is the sky.

Nature + creativity = :)

Like I said, I'm in Sydney. It's strange revisting places you've lived - strange and not-strange, which makes it more strange. Anyway, as usual I'm thinking about sense of place and the character of different cities. This is something I always like to think about, but now it actually has significance, as I'm going to have to decide where in Latin America I should go. For some reason I can't quite identify (the Spirit's nudging?) I've always imagined myself living in a big city. And yet I adore the intimacy of Hobart's population. But I would die inside if I were to end up in an ugly, workaday small city.

I was thinking about these things as I made my way to Croydon in yesterday's peak hour. The sky was grey, the air humid and the people sullen and hard. But today I had dumplings in Ashfield with the lovely Grace and afterwards wandered around getting my fringe cut and buying jumbo chalk with joy in my heart. I love all the busy people intent on their errands and all the crowded shopfronts.

Later still that generous, big-dropped, sweet-smelling Sydney rain poured down and I stood on the front porch watching the cars plough past.

I live in an ugly block of flats

I'm in Sydney for a couple of weeks, so it seems strange to think of it sitting here in my old room on a street lined with houses, surrounded by streets upon streets of houses, but... this is the view from my lounge room back home in Tassie:


And if you're wondering what that spot of grey is at the top of the photo...


And would you smell that air! So crisp and fresh and sweet.

El español

I've been doing one hour of Spanish five days a week and two on Monday. Because I can already understand a reasonable amount of French, learning Spanish is coming fairly easily. So there is that. All the same, my method rocks!

I've been:

• listening and singing along to Christian kids' karaoke;
• looking up the words I don't know on an online translator;
• covering up the words and writing out what I hear sung, then checking to see if I got all the words and if I spelled them right;
  
• reading a Spanish grammar book which addresses all the differences and errors that English speakers will naturally make;
• reading all the examples outloud;
  
• writing increasingly complicated sentences in another book;
  
• watching one Spanish language film a week (this week it was El Secreto De Sus Ojos);
• reading the BBC News headlines in Spanish;
• having a crack at some activities on the BBC Spanish site;
  
• and, best of all, not even attempting to learn how to conjugate verbs or to learn all the verb + adverb combos that are so different to English, but instead exposing myself to lots of spoken language so I'll get to know what 'sounds right'.

Anyone who knows how traumatic (and fruitless) learning Ancient Greek and Hebrew was for me will appreciate the difference. Not that I'm an expert yet - I'm at Primary School level in terms of reading comprehension and more like a two year old for everything else.

Fix your eyes on him

I feel like I've written about perseverance before, but if I have it was so long ago that not even the search function remembers. I'm a massive fan of perseverance and I think it is often undervalued. I mean, from perseverance springs character, hope, godliness and love (Romans 5:3-4; 2 Peter 1:5-7)! When Paul boasts about the Thessalonians it's because of their perseverance (2 Thess 1:4)! And when perseverance finishes its work it results in people who are "mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:4)!

But it's still not very sexy is it. I mean when you're actually in the middle of persevering it doesn't feel like any sort of noble task. It just feels grim and wearing. Ah, but to continue to look to God and to continue to act on his promises when you experience neither relief nor reward, that is faith. That is "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1) - or at least trying to be.

If that's where you are, don't give up. Continue to trust that God is in charge and that he knows more than you. He is watching over you and it will not always be this way. Your pressing on in the midst of ugliness has made you beautiful.

Family //2

I've rounded up some lovely people to be part of my Advocacy Team (aka Team Fiona) while I'm away doing missionary work. Their main role will be to keep me on everyone's radar, and they will also be available to help me out with practical stuff and to pray for things that are particularly personal or urgent.

We had morning tea together last week, and as I was about to begin letting them know where things were at, another nice family moment happened - one of the dads called out to his son who was playing in the next room to come back in so he would hear what I had to say. And here was I thinking that the kids were just there because, well, just because they were.

One thing times four

I've often gone away from Bible studies feeling a little foggy. I know I learned stuff and I can even remember some of it (not insignificant with a memory like mine), but I'm not sure what I should be bringing away from it. Now, because I believe that the Bible transforms people even as they take it in, this isn't actually a huge concern for me, but still...

In the last few weeks I've begun discipling some women (read: mentoring and teaching about life and spiritual matters), and I decided to have a go at each of us writing down one thing the passage taught us about God, people and the world and one thing we will change in the next week. It's been great. It's allowed us to have a detailed, free-form discussion about the passage for as long as we want, but then to focus our thinking at the end. Try it - you like it.