Augustine, in his Confessions exhorted, “If I find Thee without memory, then am I unmindful of Thee. And how now shall I find Thee, if I do not remember Thee?” (10.17.26). He believed that God could not be sought or attained without memory. It is here, for me, where the true nature and function of art intersects with theology. Beyond pleasure, pedagogical function, and political statement, art functions first and foremost as an expression and embodiment of human memory and drawing upon that memory, conveys an infinitely larger and greater reality.
On Wed., Jan. 20, 2010, Candler Office of Student Programming hosted a guided tour and lunch discussion around the “Scripture for the Eyes” exhibit at the Michael C. Carlos Museum. The exhibit, on display since October, featured sixteenth century Bible illustrations from Old and New Testaments. The exhibit ended on January 24.
During our lunch discussion after the guided tour, we were able to discuss those pieces within the exhibit that caused us pause, confusion, or interest. In particular, we discussed an illustration housed within the Worship section of the exhibit, Circumcision Enframed by the Text of Psalm 6 (Hieronymus Wierix after Melchior Model, before 1604). The text of the Psalm was written in a continuous scroll of letters in a labyrinth pattern around a scene from the Passion – the circumcision of Christ. One had to draw in close to the illustration to see that the labyrinth pattern within the art was created by the actual words of the psalmist. Dr. Joel LeMon, Assistant Professor of Old Testament, guided our discussion and reminded us that Psalm 6 is one of the seven Penitential Psalms. These psalms were recited to express sorrow for one’s sin. Here, the engraver cleverly plays off Augustine’s idea of a circumcision of the heart by juxtaposing the Psalm with the image of Christ’s circumcision. The illustration serves to guide the reader through the words of the prayer with the form of the labyrinth, thereby turning the soul away from sin and toward God. This piece, in particular, made me realize that some art is not only Scripture for the eyes, but also the heart.
Robin Jensen, historian of Christian art, in her book, The Substance of Things Unseen says, “We need to become visually literate as much as we are verbally literate if we are to become more fully aware, insightful, and receptive to messages from both the secular and the sacred realms.” As someone very interested in a critical engagement of the arts, this type of extra-curricular experience, along with coursework like ST618 Theology of Art and Architecture taught by Dr Steffen Lösel, Associate Professor in the Practice of Systematic Theology, and a possible MDiv concentration in Theology and the Arts has affirmed my decision to study at Candler School of Theology and to continue my personal investigation into why humans endeavor to give visual, musical and literary expression to the nature of God.
Post contributed by Kim Jenne, 1st year MDiv
Monday, February 8, 2010
Monday, November 16, 2009
The Church and the churches
A couple of weeks ago, the Office of Student Programming hosted a discussion on Denominational Identity and Ecumenism. Professors Andrea White (American Baptist) and Ian McFarland (Lutheran) and International Student Coordinatior Min-Ah Cho (Catholic) offered biographical sketches of their own paths to denominational identity. While many of us are born into and nurtured in the traditions of our families some of us strike out on our own to find traditions and denominations that speak to our experience and meet us where we are.
So, what does it mean to be a part of a denomination? Why choose one over another? We are studying to be leaders in the Church... what will it mean for us to not only be a part of a denomination, but a leader within it? These are some of the questions we discussed and the questions we must continue to discuss in the future.
For better or worse, the Church exists with a denominational structure. Many struggle (I know I have) with this structure for it seems to splinter the original foundations of our faith. On the other hand, denominations also allow for a breadth of opinions to be shared earnestly and honestly so that a fuller picture of the Church, the world, and even God can be painted. As Dr. McFarland pointed out, we all have different theologies and understandings of the world around us, so it seems like denominations are not a splintering mechanism, but are opportunities for us to explore deeply from multiple perspectives.
While many come to seminary with their denominational identity fully intact, there are those, like me, who struggle with what it means to be a part of a denomination given the breadth of options and diversity of our experiences. I only came to my denominational identity after having been in seminary for a year and a half. I guess I had always been a little bit Wesleyan, but as I studied Wesley's theology I found a kindred spirit and realized that there were actual theological reasons for me to be United Methodist.
However, even with my denominational identity confirmed, I still struggle with what it means for me and how I live it out. I believe that denominations are our construction, not God's. They help us make sense of what we read in the Scriptures and what we see in the world. They provide us a lens through which to engage the world, but sometimes we forget they are just lenses on something greater. We end up thinking that each denomination is the Church. I think that when we do this the splintering occurs, but when we use our lenses of denominational identity to see the wider Christian community and tradition of which we are a part, we are able to have dialogue and discourse (hense, the idea of ecumenism) and work together for the greater good.
So, I'll ask again: What does it mean to be a part of a denomination? Why did you choose one over another? And what does it mean for us that we will be both part of a denomination and a leader within it?
This post was submitted by Brett Harris, 3rd Year MDiv Student.
So, what does it mean to be a part of a denomination? Why choose one over another? We are studying to be leaders in the Church... what will it mean for us to not only be a part of a denomination, but a leader within it? These are some of the questions we discussed and the questions we must continue to discuss in the future.
For better or worse, the Church exists with a denominational structure. Many struggle (I know I have) with this structure for it seems to splinter the original foundations of our faith. On the other hand, denominations also allow for a breadth of opinions to be shared earnestly and honestly so that a fuller picture of the Church, the world, and even God can be painted. As Dr. McFarland pointed out, we all have different theologies and understandings of the world around us, so it seems like denominations are not a splintering mechanism, but are opportunities for us to explore deeply from multiple perspectives.
While many come to seminary with their denominational identity fully intact, there are those, like me, who struggle with what it means to be a part of a denomination given the breadth of options and diversity of our experiences. I only came to my denominational identity after having been in seminary for a year and a half. I guess I had always been a little bit Wesleyan, but as I studied Wesley's theology I found a kindred spirit and realized that there were actual theological reasons for me to be United Methodist.
However, even with my denominational identity confirmed, I still struggle with what it means for me and how I live it out. I believe that denominations are our construction, not God's. They help us make sense of what we read in the Scriptures and what we see in the world. They provide us a lens through which to engage the world, but sometimes we forget they are just lenses on something greater. We end up thinking that each denomination is the Church. I think that when we do this the splintering occurs, but when we use our lenses of denominational identity to see the wider Christian community and tradition of which we are a part, we are able to have dialogue and discourse (hense, the idea of ecumenism) and work together for the greater good.
So, I'll ask again: What does it mean to be a part of a denomination? Why did you choose one over another? And what does it mean for us that we will be both part of a denomination and a leader within it?
This post was submitted by Brett Harris, 3rd Year MDiv Student.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Voices from the Margins: Reflection on Pride Week
In October, Congress passed the Matthew Shepherd Act which expanded a previous federal hate-crime law to include sexual orientation, gender (actual or perceived), and disability. While this is a law that has long been needed in our country, there are some who decry it as a potential threat to freedom of thought or expression. While there are clauses in the act to keep that from being the case (and it seems pretty safe to say that such concerns are largely unfounded), it strikes me that, as Christians, we must support his law.
To be clear, I am not advocating that all Christians must have one particular opinion about homosexuality. What I am suggesting is this: if we, as Christians, are not holding our arms wider to people in the name of Christ, then we are missing the point all together. This law, the Matthew Shepherd Act, will help this country do exactly what Christ has always been calling us to do--open our arms wider.
Does this mean condoning homosexuality? Not necessarily (although, to be fair, Jesus didn’t say a word about it). It means not condoning violence as a way of expressing differing opinions. It means protecting that which has made this country great--the ability to live our own lives. It means creating space for all of God’s children to be welcome regardless of our differences.
But, as Christians, our call does not stop at simply insuring that people are not hurt physically. We are called to a much deeper purpose. We are called not just to hold our arms open to all people, but to also give a voice to the voiceless.
Two springs ago, toward the end of the semester, I had a particularly thought provoking week at Candler around these issues.That week, Sacred Worth was participating in the Day of Silence. Day of Silence is a national day of remembrance for those who remain voiceless (or who have lost their voice) due to issues around sexual orientation. At our Tuesday worship, we gathered at the table as a community. To honor their efforts, the Eucharist was shared in silence--complete silence, to remember those who walk this path voiceless and lonely. It was a powerful moment in the life of our school community. As we walked to the table, our intentional silence echoed the silence that the church forces upon LGBTQ students, clergy and friends. As we gathered to celebrate the feast of life, we remembered the death that the church had forced upon its own--the people it claimed from birth as Children of God.
The next day was the Sending Forth Service of Sacred Worth. This service honors those LGBTQ graduating students. As they take the next steps on their journey, they do so with our blessing. We gave each student (who could be open--not all can) a stole as a parting gift. At the close of this ritual, we laid a stole on the altar for the silenced among us--the ones who hadn't even thought about seminary because they didn't think they'd be welcomed, the ones who came then were rejected, for the ones whose gifts would be wasted because the church they loved and dedicated themselves to couldn't move beyond difference into community. Then we celebrated communion--this time with joy and resurrection in our hearts. It was life-giving.
The following day, in my Introduction to Public Worship class, we began our final projects--25 minute worship services. At 8:30 in the morning, none of us were too keen on worship or shouting or clapping or anything really, but we gathered in the chapel, anyway. I zoned in and out for a few minutes, then I came to right when I needed to. The service’s theme was Easter. The Gospel reading told of Christ’s first post-resurrection appearance to the women. The preacher spoke of Christ's call for us to go and tell, and the reason we needed to do it was this: "Go and tell for the victory and deliverance of others." This is the good news: Christ’s arms remain wide open to us despite all the ways that our churches and our traditions and our interpretations and, yes, even ourselves, have tried to force them closed. Christ’s call to open our arms to all people is as clear today as it was millennia ago. We must make space for the voiceless to be heard without fear of retribution.
This, of course, is not easy. I’ve struggled with it my whole time at Candler. When is being gay part of who are or who you are? After not being all that involved with LBGTQ activism and after taking a job at a church where I can't really be open, I was reminded early one Friday morning in class why it's important that I be both of those--involved and open. Because silence isn't OK. Because I've fought long enough for my voice. Because others deserve the victory and deliverance that I've tasted. Because it is what Christ would have me do.
Will you speak for the voiceless? Will you hold your arms open with me?
To be clear, I am not advocating that all Christians must have one particular opinion about homosexuality. What I am suggesting is this: if we, as Christians, are not holding our arms wider to people in the name of Christ, then we are missing the point all together. This law, the Matthew Shepherd Act, will help this country do exactly what Christ has always been calling us to do--open our arms wider.
Does this mean condoning homosexuality? Not necessarily (although, to be fair, Jesus didn’t say a word about it). It means not condoning violence as a way of expressing differing opinions. It means protecting that which has made this country great--the ability to live our own lives. It means creating space for all of God’s children to be welcome regardless of our differences.
But, as Christians, our call does not stop at simply insuring that people are not hurt physically. We are called to a much deeper purpose. We are called not just to hold our arms open to all people, but to also give a voice to the voiceless.
Two springs ago, toward the end of the semester, I had a particularly thought provoking week at Candler around these issues.That week, Sacred Worth was participating in the Day of Silence. Day of Silence is a national day of remembrance for those who remain voiceless (or who have lost their voice) due to issues around sexual orientation. At our Tuesday worship, we gathered at the table as a community. To honor their efforts, the Eucharist was shared in silence--complete silence, to remember those who walk this path voiceless and lonely. It was a powerful moment in the life of our school community. As we walked to the table, our intentional silence echoed the silence that the church forces upon LGBTQ students, clergy and friends. As we gathered to celebrate the feast of life, we remembered the death that the church had forced upon its own--the people it claimed from birth as Children of God.
The next day was the Sending Forth Service of Sacred Worth. This service honors those LGBTQ graduating students. As they take the next steps on their journey, they do so with our blessing. We gave each student (who could be open--not all can) a stole as a parting gift. At the close of this ritual, we laid a stole on the altar for the silenced among us--the ones who hadn't even thought about seminary because they didn't think they'd be welcomed, the ones who came then were rejected, for the ones whose gifts would be wasted because the church they loved and dedicated themselves to couldn't move beyond difference into community. Then we celebrated communion--this time with joy and resurrection in our hearts. It was life-giving.
The following day, in my Introduction to Public Worship class, we began our final projects--25 minute worship services. At 8:30 in the morning, none of us were too keen on worship or shouting or clapping or anything really, but we gathered in the chapel, anyway. I zoned in and out for a few minutes, then I came to right when I needed to. The service’s theme was Easter. The Gospel reading told of Christ’s first post-resurrection appearance to the women. The preacher spoke of Christ's call for us to go and tell, and the reason we needed to do it was this: "Go and tell for the victory and deliverance of others." This is the good news: Christ’s arms remain wide open to us despite all the ways that our churches and our traditions and our interpretations and, yes, even ourselves, have tried to force them closed. Christ’s call to open our arms to all people is as clear today as it was millennia ago. We must make space for the voiceless to be heard without fear of retribution.
This, of course, is not easy. I’ve struggled with it my whole time at Candler. When is being gay part of who are or who you are? After not being all that involved with LBGTQ activism and after taking a job at a church where I can't really be open, I was reminded early one Friday morning in class why it's important that I be both of those--involved and open. Because silence isn't OK. Because I've fought long enough for my voice. Because others deserve the victory and deliverance that I've tasted. Because it is what Christ would have me do.
Will you speak for the voiceless? Will you hold your arms open with me?
Monday, November 2, 2009
Voices from the Margin...a Personal Reflection
When I first came here to Candler from Korea, I was curious why people who I didn’t know said “Hi” to me. So, several times I asked them, “Have we met before?” It was a cultural difference that I was unaware of. Then, I learned the culture and began to practice “saying hi.” When I say hi with eye contact, I find three types of reaction about that. First, there are people who willingly reply “hi. How are you?” Second, people who reluctantly say this, “h- hi.” Thirdly, people who just pass by me pretending not to notice and avoiding my eyes. I know this experience is not only mine. But, for me the experience was also an encounter with the culture of accepting, discomfort, and rejecting.
When I was in Korea, I struggled with visible and invisible sexism against women. However, here I struggle with more complex and heavier oppressions: sexual, racial, ethnic, financial, linguistic, international. I cannot find my story even in racial issues. Discussion of racism in America only deals with issues between black and white. My complex situation seems like “out of the frying pan and into the fire.” But, a different thing is whether the way of expressing the oppression is visible, blatant and outspoken or invisible, clever and skillful. Sometimes I feel the blatant expression, but I don’t often hear plainly sexist words in the U. S. like I did in Korea. In terms of that, I feel more comfortable and free but, simultaneously I feel more a complex and heavier, but invisible oppressive atmosphere. I am living as a minority in this community. It is hard but a meaningful experience for me. I am living as a marginalized person as well in this community. It is challenging me to ask who I am, where I am, what I do, and what I have to do.
One day, I asked staff person at Candler: “What is the purpose that Candler picks the international students out? As an international student, I would like to know my role and ways to contribute.” The person said, “No, you don’t need to make an effort to contribute. Your being yourself is very meaningful and helpful for this community.” On one hand, I was grateful that this community was celebrating my being myself in it. On the other hand, my different skin color, my different appearance, my different language, and my different nationality seemed to be more important than my personality and my voice in this community.
According to Candler’s M.Div. Student Profile, there are 10 percent of international students, 28 percent of minority, and 49 percent of women. The whole Emory community has 43 percent of students of color including Asian Americans, African Americans, Hispanics, and Native Americans and so on. What does the diversity of Candler mean? Is it only to raise the percentage of minority and students of color, or is it to truly share various voices from the margins? What do you think?
Today's post was written by Mirhang Baek, a 3rd year M.Div student.
When I was in Korea, I struggled with visible and invisible sexism against women. However, here I struggle with more complex and heavier oppressions: sexual, racial, ethnic, financial, linguistic, international. I cannot find my story even in racial issues. Discussion of racism in America only deals with issues between black and white. My complex situation seems like “out of the frying pan and into the fire.” But, a different thing is whether the way of expressing the oppression is visible, blatant and outspoken or invisible, clever and skillful. Sometimes I feel the blatant expression, but I don’t often hear plainly sexist words in the U. S. like I did in Korea. In terms of that, I feel more comfortable and free but, simultaneously I feel more a complex and heavier, but invisible oppressive atmosphere. I am living as a minority in this community. It is hard but a meaningful experience for me. I am living as a marginalized person as well in this community. It is challenging me to ask who I am, where I am, what I do, and what I have to do.
One day, I asked staff person at Candler: “What is the purpose that Candler picks the international students out? As an international student, I would like to know my role and ways to contribute.” The person said, “No, you don’t need to make an effort to contribute. Your being yourself is very meaningful and helpful for this community.” On one hand, I was grateful that this community was celebrating my being myself in it. On the other hand, my different skin color, my different appearance, my different language, and my different nationality seemed to be more important than my personality and my voice in this community.
According to Candler’s M.Div. Student Profile, there are 10 percent of international students, 28 percent of minority, and 49 percent of women. The whole Emory community has 43 percent of students of color including Asian Americans, African Americans, Hispanics, and Native Americans and so on. What does the diversity of Candler mean? Is it only to raise the percentage of minority and students of color, or is it to truly share various voices from the margins? What do you think?
Today's post was written by Mirhang Baek, a 3rd year M.Div student.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Mobility and Ability..
I believe in a God who affirms the participation of all God's children in worship, especially those who have been neglected by society and who often struggle to find their place in the world. It seems that though other institutions (schools, hospitals, the job market) exclude people with mental ability and mobility issues, the church ought to be the place where they encounter only affirmation, hospitality, and inclusion.
Yet, this is difficult.
As future church leaders, educators, members of the body of Christ, we will encounter those whose abilities are different than our own, and who may need modifications or assistance to participate in church life. But how does a congregation enable people with mental or physical disabilities to be full participants in our communities? Does making a statement about it do the trick? Is making a special wheel chair accessible section in the back row of the sanctuary enough?
Last week, a group of panelists from diverse worship communities shared the ways that their churches tackle the inclusion of all members. Panelists shared helpful ways to make Christian Education sessions and worship space more inclusive. Additionally, Mark Crenshaw of Interfaith Disability Connection compiled a helpful a resource list that can be picked up in the Office of Student Programming. Perhaps the two most important things that I learned from the panel were said by church leaders who were also the parents of children with mental disabilities.
One was this same idea that I've already mentioned... the idea that people with mental ability and mobility issues face so much opposition and struggle in the rest of the world that churches who work to welcome and make life easier on their disabled members take great burdens from them. This panelist also affirmed that a minister and congregation who are willing to ask what the families and members with ability issues need to fully participate is one of the greatest blessings.
Another meaningful comment was made by an Episcopalian minister. He affirmed the need for the church to see people with ability issues as vehicles for divine grace and blessing, rather than disorderly or alien members of the group who are only tolerated. This offers opportunity to expand and encourage more participation in worship of those whose bodies or minds work a bit differently than the majority of other church members.
Hm. I had a lot to think about after the panel...
What do you think? With these two mentalities in mind, is your church fully inclusive of those with ability issues?
Today's post was written by Elizabeth Wilson Harris. Click here to read denominational statements or here to find resources about this issue.
Yet, this is difficult.
As future church leaders, educators, members of the body of Christ, we will encounter those whose abilities are different than our own, and who may need modifications or assistance to participate in church life. But how does a congregation enable people with mental or physical disabilities to be full participants in our communities? Does making a statement about it do the trick? Is making a special wheel chair accessible section in the back row of the sanctuary enough?
Last week, a group of panelists from diverse worship communities shared the ways that their churches tackle the inclusion of all members. Panelists shared helpful ways to make Christian Education sessions and worship space more inclusive. Additionally, Mark Crenshaw of Interfaith Disability Connection compiled a helpful a resource list that can be picked up in the Office of Student Programming. Perhaps the two most important things that I learned from the panel were said by church leaders who were also the parents of children with mental disabilities.
One was this same idea that I've already mentioned... the idea that people with mental ability and mobility issues face so much opposition and struggle in the rest of the world that churches who work to welcome and make life easier on their disabled members take great burdens from them. This panelist also affirmed that a minister and congregation who are willing to ask what the families and members with ability issues need to fully participate is one of the greatest blessings.
Another meaningful comment was made by an Episcopalian minister. He affirmed the need for the church to see people with ability issues as vehicles for divine grace and blessing, rather than disorderly or alien members of the group who are only tolerated. This offers opportunity to expand and encourage more participation in worship of those whose bodies or minds work a bit differently than the majority of other church members.
Hm. I had a lot to think about after the panel...
What do you think? With these two mentalities in mind, is your church fully inclusive of those with ability issues?
Today's post was written by Elizabeth Wilson Harris. Click here to read denominational statements or here to find resources about this issue.
Welcome!
Welcome to this place for conversation!
Every week at Candler we have important discussions with others in this community. Some of these begin in the classroom, some are inspired by panel discussions, workshops, and other community events, while others happen over lunch in Brooks Commons or on the shuttle ride home. We hope this blog is a place where we can continue talking to one another about the questions that these conversations inspire. Every week a member of the Candler Community will share their questions and thoughts on a particular issue of relevance to all of us. Anyone who wants to participate in this conversation is invited to respond.
Please remember that this is a forum for dialogue. We ask that you enter into this conversation with respect for the stories and perspectives of others and with care for those with whom you share this space. Thank you for your willingness to participate!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
A Prayer for Our Conversations
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
- Isaiah 55:10-1
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