Krista Mournet

Catherine Crouch

I am the furthest thing from a scientist. I am quite happy in the humanities. That’s why I was surprised to find myself identifying deeply with some of the sentiments in this article, written by Andy Crouch. In it, Crouch describes his wife Catherine, an experimental physicist (that means about as much to me as “Hebrew Bible scholar” means to most people); not only her work, but her personhood, her vocation, her struggles and joys. Crouch sensitively portrays her journey in the academic and scientific spheres. And I was surprised at how much commonality I found between her journey and my own.

Additionally, I was struck by Crouch’s gentle yet pointed critique of the apparent inability of most of the sermons or church activities they attend to minister deeply to his wife particularly–to speak into the unique challenges she faces on a day-to-day basis. And Crouch suggests that it’s not because of her esoteric line of work; this is true of most people:

“Does the gospel really have nothing to say to our sense of wonder and delight in the world? Is it silent on how to manage competition and risk? Does it give us no guidance on the qualities that make for real, fruitful collaboration? To the contrary, all these are the soil where discipleship can grow, where grace can be discovered, and where real faith can be nourished. What other opportunities are we missing to name the ways that every vocation in our congregation points us toward, and indeed requires, the death to self and trust in God that are the essence of trust in Jesus?”

I can imagine that it must be very difficult for pastors, who are under constant pressure to deliver relevant, impactful messages every week to people with very different day-to-day challenges and situations. There must be the constant temptation to stay in the safe, bland territory of generalities; the mushy, easily digestible self-help sermon diet that so often becomes the default position. But is there a danger in becoming too abstract; too metaphorical? Crouch goes on to say:

Many people who end up in academic vocations are comfortable with abstraction. There is real intellectual leverage that can be gained by abstracting away from particular persons to talk about, for example, “personality”; to abstract away from a set of methods, practices, discoveries, and theories to talk about “science”; to abstract away from a set of beliefs and rituals to talk about “religion.” Yet ministry is one human vocation that dare not be abstract. The most fruitful ministry always is engaged with very concrete communities and persons.

Have a look at the article yourself. Think about the amount of time we Christians tend to spend defending abstract arguments, staking out turf, battling with competing ideologies. How many opportunities are we missing; opportunities to discover the infinite mysteries in one another? How much time are we wasting? It’s something to think about.

If there is one critique I have of this article, it is that Crouch perhaps too quickly sets the academic worlds of science and theology at odds with one another–in fact, I found myself surprised at how much the world he describes and the world I inhabit are not altogether that different. And perhaps in a way, that supports his ultimate point…

“If you want to be a better exegete, you must become a deeper person.” I read this quote from Brevard S. Childs a few days ago, and it has been rattling around in my heart and mind ever since. I can’t get it out of my head. What’s ‘exegesis,’ you may ask (because chances are if you’ve never been to Bible college or seminary, you’ve never heard this word)? ‘Exegesis’ is really a fancy-pants Bible college way of saying “interpretation.”

The word comes from the Greek language and means, literally “to lead out.” When someone exegetes something, be it a word, a text, a culture, their dog, whatever, they are interpreting that thing or person; trying to figure out what it means, turning it over to look at it from other angles and perspectives–getting outside themselves long enough to get inside of whatever is being interpreted.

So does this practice require depth of character? This is what I’ve been thinking about. And this is what has occurred to me. In order to interpret something, anything, you have to be able to understand that something first. And you can’t understand something well until you know the language. I remember before I had my son I could listen to a toddler babble on and have no idea what the kid was saying–it all sounded like slobbery gobbledy-gook to me; and I was always awed to see the kid’s mom walk over, listen to a few nonsense syllables and say; “Oh, you would like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole grain bread with milk? Okay, honey, let me get it for you!”

Now that I have a little one, I understand it. You see, I live with my son. I observe him, watch him, listen to every little sound that comes out of his mouth. I know what he likes and doesn’t like. I know what he is afraid of and what makes him happy. I know his language. So even though probably most people couldn’t catch a word he was saying a year ago or so, when he was two and just learning to speak, I could. Because I knew him so well.

I think it’s the same thing with exegeting (interpreting) something; be it a text, a person, a culture, whatever. You need to live with it; observe, learn the language, watch, pay attention, get over yourself…and maybe that’s where the depth comes in. It takes patience, time, and enough self-confidence to put your own perspectives, biases, assumptions, needs, desires down on the table, for a while, so that you can clearly listen to what or whoever it is that you are trying to understand. Because in reality, interpretation is conversation. You bring all of yourself, your experiences, intellect, interests, passions, biases and assumptions, and lay it out on the table, expecting the person or text across from you to do the same. You respect the other; listen, learn, observe, question, probe, and eventually you are able to interpret.

So maybe it is true that “to be a better exegete you must become a deeper person.” Maybe the world needs better exegetes…

As I prepare to start my second year as a PhD student in Theology at Durham University in the UK (part-time, I still live in the US), I am finding all kinds of exciting avenues of research. This evening I came across an article on Psalm 90; Samuel E. Balentine’s “Turn O Lord! How Long?” (Review and Expositor, 100, Summer 2003). The article introduces a conversation around a dangerous question; “Does God repent?” and even more dangerous; “Should we ask Him to?”

Well, the Psalmist does…several times…it’s a key feature in the Psalms, in fact. Balentine weaves rabbinical stories, poetry, fiction, and prose (from one of my favorite authors, Kathleen Norris) in his fascinating treatment of this Psalm.

What I want to focus on is a closing question of his:

“We seem to have settled, like [Wendell] Berry’s fictional preacher, Brother Preston, for truths that connect us to the ‘hereafter’ but sever us from the grief and despair of the ‘here and now.’ Sadly, such ministry leaves far too many unaddressed, uncomforted.” And later; “Who will stand before God and say, ‘Turn, O Lord! How long?’ Such questions, of course, only beg another; who knows how God will respond to those who do so?”

Balentine closes his article with a poem by R. S. Thomas, “Threshold,” which beautifully describes the craggy edge of the precipice between the safe and the dangerous; between the silence and the question–how long?

I emerge from the mind’s
cave into the worse darkness
outside, where things pass and
the Lord is none of them.

I have heard the still small voice
and it was that of the bacteria
demolishing my cosmos. I
have lingered too long on

this threshold, but where can I go?
To look back is to lose the soul
I was leading upwards towards
the light. To look forward? Ah,

what balance is needed at
the edges of an abyss.
I am alone on the surface
of a turning planet. What

to do but, like Michelangelo’s
Adam, put my hand
out into unknown space,
hoping for the reciprocating touch?
R. S. Thomas, “Threshold,” Poems of R. S. Thomas (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas Press, 1985), 149-150.

Since we have just moved to a new town, we are in the unique, sometimes awkward, always surprising process of looking for a church home. As I was perusing the neighborhood options online, I noticed a Brethren in Christ church nearby. Doing a little online research led me to this article, supporting women in ministry:

Biblical Foundation for Women in Ministry and Leadership: A Brief Study.

I happily admit my bias as one who enthusiastically supports freedom in many areas, and in this case with regard to women in ministry; I strongly believe that if someone has a gift that can uplift the body of Christ, they  should be free to use it, regardless of gender. This article is a strong elucidation of the scriptural, theological, and cultural reasons to support it. Of course, not everyone agrees with this view. But I encourage you to have a look, whatever side of the fence you spend time on.

What do you think about this issue? If you take another view, what support do you have to back up your view? I would like to hear from you, either way…

I don’t know if we will end up worshiping at our local Brethren in Christ church. We are still in the early stages of our search. But I like what I am seeing so far…

This past week I had the opportunity to travel through the beautiful Dakota countryside to a small camp outside the small town of Viborg, SD for a retreat. I love drives in the country, and this one was pastoral and peaceful, just as I expected it would be. It also took a while, which meant we all had to get up and out really early (thank the Lord for Starbucks!). › Continue reading

I’m in a mood.

I got up this morning at 7 am. Since then I have spent the entire morning doing a thousand and one annoying things that I had absolutely no desire to do. I finally got to brush my teeth at around 11:00, and now, at 12:39 pm, I am actually getting around to doing what I wanted to do today. › Continue reading

Today was a perfect day for a walk; partly cloudy, mid-seventies, and a pleasant humidity level. So, Terence, Lucas and I headed to one of the parks in town, which has some lovely walking paths through the woods. We’d gotten about a quarter of a mile in when we turned a corner and saw this: › Continue reading

Lately I’ve had my nose buried in Eugene Peterson’s Under the Unpredictable Plant. Though it was published fifteen years ago, it’s prophetic message is so fresh that it could have been delivered this past week. It was, really, to me at least. › Continue reading

“Poverty is the absence of linkages, the absence of connections with others.” A quote from Jayakumar Christian, head of World Vision India.

Connection.

My three month old son is linked inextricably to me most of the time. He cries and I feed him; he laughs and I laugh with him. He gets bored and I find some specially designed gadget made just for his amusement and plonk him down into it. › Continue reading

…when we go shopping.

“Make Me Happy. Buy Me Something.”

Recently, I saw this demand emblazoned across a t-shirt as I meandered through the supermarket. Rarely do such consumerist motivations present themselves so obviously! I’ll never forget that moment, or the person wearing that t-shirt. › Continue reading