Sometimes it's tough being a poor grad student. Today I heard about Canucks tickets being scalped for less than a thousand dollars as a *decrease* and I sighed...that's two months of rent. Or several months of groceries. How on earth can someone justify such extravagance?
Then I place my own life up for sale.
My life includes a a roof over my head--a roof that shelters me and many others in an expensive Vancouver neighborhood. It's my own room with a warm bed, donated flowering plant and stupendous view of North Van across the water. It's a shared kitchen where we talk about the day, envy other people's good cooking, and sometimes people leave out cookies on the free board.
My life includes food to eat; professional medical care (physical and psychological); a cheap bus pass and reliable public transportation system; a bike to ride; the advent of summer after an endless rainy spring.
My life includes learning ideas that are not mere abstract concepts, but breathing wisdoms to be inhabited and worn to change the world. It's the classes at Regent, the public lectures, the movies shown, the prayer retreats, the conversations in the atrium. It's chapel and singing songs and taking communion together.
And my life includes people. It's the crowd that assembles for community meals on Wednesday nights and it's Davi serenading the house with hymns and praise songs. It's the folks I'm planning to live with next fall. It's the kindly couple who sit in front of me at church. It's spot prawn dinners and hockey-watching with friends. It's the brilliance and kindness of my peers in class. It's the pastoral care, advice, teaching and lived life of Regent faculty and staff. It's exchanging letters and emails with dear friends from far away; it's being able to go home and spend time with my family. It's the gift of a new but beloved relationship.
How on earth can someone justify such extravagance, indeed.
Showing posts with label regent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label regent. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
revisiting Christian imagination
One of the classes I took this past term was "The Christian Imagination," which seeks to be an exploration of the arts, theology, and what the two have to say to each other. While reading through some old journal entries last night, I found the following insight, which struck me again as important for both artists and theologians.
"It's not about you, the artist, but the creation itself and the people whom it is serving."
This became a growing conviction of mine throughout the course--that art should not be the work of one autonomous individual but must exist in the context of a community's life.
"It's not about Marja, but the act of teaching and her students."
Marja, the founder of the school where I worked last year, is indeed a saint, for the very reason that she deflects all attention from herself to the more important work of teaching, and students.
"It's not about Father Dunstan but his art and its service to the abbey."
One of the artists we visited as part of the course was Father Dunstan--who "gave up" a career as a professional artist to become a monk--and has continued to be an artist in the service of his community.
"So my own project shouldn't be about me, the artist, but the work and who I'm trying to serve."
I didn't consciously remember this when I formulated my final project for the class, but as it turned out, the bulk of my project was teaching people to dance--serving the art and the class community.
"Pastor's sermons, then, first and foremost, should be an act of Christian imagination."
Serving the word, the congregation.
"It's not about you, the artist, but the creation itself and the people whom it is serving."
This became a growing conviction of mine throughout the course--that art should not be the work of one autonomous individual but must exist in the context of a community's life.
"It's not about Marja, but the act of teaching and her students."
Marja, the founder of the school where I worked last year, is indeed a saint, for the very reason that she deflects all attention from herself to the more important work of teaching, and students.
"It's not about Father Dunstan but his art and its service to the abbey."
One of the artists we visited as part of the course was Father Dunstan--who "gave up" a career as a professional artist to become a monk--and has continued to be an artist in the service of his community.
"So my own project shouldn't be about me, the artist, but the work and who I'm trying to serve."
I didn't consciously remember this when I formulated my final project for the class, but as it turned out, the bulk of my project was teaching people to dance--serving the art and the class community.
"Pastor's sermons, then, first and foremost, should be an act of Christian imagination."
Serving the word, the congregation.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
not-so-brief thoughts on social justice
Last week and this week I've been taking Vocation, Work and Ministry at Regent as part of spring school. It's been a valuable class for many reasons, but one insight from class today was particularly helpful for me in my ongoing consideration of the elusive "social justice."
Our topic of the day was social transformation or social justice--how does responsibility for our neighbors factor into our own vocations and life work. As part of that discussion, our professor invited a guest speaker who has spent more than the past twenty years following a road of so-called "downward mobility," seeking to follow Jesus and stand in solidarity with the poor.
One of my classmates asked the following question: if we're supposed to pursue this "downward" path, what do we say to those at the bottom? If the poor are seeking upward mobility, at what point do they become the rich who need to give up their wealth to be re-connected with the poor?
There are a lot of assumptions and values playing into that question and the answer could be complex and varied. However, our guest gave an answer that I think is a helpful way to re-frame the whole issue of service/social justice/solidarity with the "poor."
His main idea was that it's not so much a question of "upward" or "downward" mobility but a movement from individual self-sufficiency towards a communal economy. What does that mean? Here's how I interpreted it.
In my living situation last year through LVC, I had $100/month for groceries. You could come sailing in with a lot of questions here--is $100/month enough to eat on? would I be eating well enough?--and if the answer was that it wasn't enough, the logical solution would seem to be that I needed more money.
OR, (as it happened), I could pool my money with my housemates and suddenly $500/month for five people WAS enough because of economies of scale. It's not a perfect example (I know some of my housemates swallowed the cost of buying some of their own food), but the fact remains that while I might have possibly survived on my grocery stipend on my own, I ate WELL (to include the occasional luxury of ice cream!) by throwing my lot in with my housemates, not to mention being connected to church and work communities that provided our house community with free meals and gifts of groceries.
From this angle, solidarity with the poor takes on a new dimension. Suddenly it's not about me "coming down" to be with the poor, but rather giving up my right to be self-sufficient and instead integrating myself into a communal web, where I depend on others and others depend on me in order to live. And the goal for the poor is not necessarily more (although clearly, there are certain minimum needs that need to be defined and met), but being brought into relationships that are mutually beneficial and sustaining.
This seems a much more expansive idea of solidarity and social justice. It includes more classic ideals of living on less, mutual service and advocating for change, but also the simple practice of being neighborly: establishing the communal ethic that chips in for a neighbor's house repair, cooks meals for a family with a child in the hospital, and babysits for free.
It also has something to say to the "wealthy." One side effect of thinking this way is that "poverty" is shifted away from pure socio-economic need to those who are isolated from resources, especially the resources of community. By this understanding, those with money who live lives isolated from a community of dependence are almost more poor than their neighbors who can't pay rent. Is there a need for "social justice" for these people as well? I think there is. Obviously the main thrust of social justice needs to be on behalf of those who are marginalized socially and economically. But unless this ethic of mutual dependence takes root in ALL social classes, from top to bottom, I don't think society will ever be fully just.
Of course, this is easier said than done. I left class with the conviction that I need to work a lot harder at establishing an interdependent life, especially in my current house community. It's a reflection of my privilege that I get to make that choice and have to make the effort--for many in my city and the world, it's the only option they have.
Our topic of the day was social transformation or social justice--how does responsibility for our neighbors factor into our own vocations and life work. As part of that discussion, our professor invited a guest speaker who has spent more than the past twenty years following a road of so-called "downward mobility," seeking to follow Jesus and stand in solidarity with the poor.
One of my classmates asked the following question: if we're supposed to pursue this "downward" path, what do we say to those at the bottom? If the poor are seeking upward mobility, at what point do they become the rich who need to give up their wealth to be re-connected with the poor?
There are a lot of assumptions and values playing into that question and the answer could be complex and varied. However, our guest gave an answer that I think is a helpful way to re-frame the whole issue of service/social justice/solidarity with the "poor."
His main idea was that it's not so much a question of "upward" or "downward" mobility but a movement from individual self-sufficiency towards a communal economy. What does that mean? Here's how I interpreted it.
In my living situation last year through LVC, I had $100/month for groceries. You could come sailing in with a lot of questions here--is $100/month enough to eat on? would I be eating well enough?--and if the answer was that it wasn't enough, the logical solution would seem to be that I needed more money.
OR, (as it happened), I could pool my money with my housemates and suddenly $500/month for five people WAS enough because of economies of scale. It's not a perfect example (I know some of my housemates swallowed the cost of buying some of their own food), but the fact remains that while I might have possibly survived on my grocery stipend on my own, I ate WELL (to include the occasional luxury of ice cream!) by throwing my lot in with my housemates, not to mention being connected to church and work communities that provided our house community with free meals and gifts of groceries.
From this angle, solidarity with the poor takes on a new dimension. Suddenly it's not about me "coming down" to be with the poor, but rather giving up my right to be self-sufficient and instead integrating myself into a communal web, where I depend on others and others depend on me in order to live. And the goal for the poor is not necessarily more (although clearly, there are certain minimum needs that need to be defined and met), but being brought into relationships that are mutually beneficial and sustaining.
This seems a much more expansive idea of solidarity and social justice. It includes more classic ideals of living on less, mutual service and advocating for change, but also the simple practice of being neighborly: establishing the communal ethic that chips in for a neighbor's house repair, cooks meals for a family with a child in the hospital, and babysits for free.
It also has something to say to the "wealthy." One side effect of thinking this way is that "poverty" is shifted away from pure socio-economic need to those who are isolated from resources, especially the resources of community. By this understanding, those with money who live lives isolated from a community of dependence are almost more poor than their neighbors who can't pay rent. Is there a need for "social justice" for these people as well? I think there is. Obviously the main thrust of social justice needs to be on behalf of those who are marginalized socially and economically. But unless this ethic of mutual dependence takes root in ALL social classes, from top to bottom, I don't think society will ever be fully just.
Of course, this is easier said than done. I left class with the conviction that I need to work a lot harder at establishing an interdependent life, especially in my current house community. It's a reflection of my privilege that I get to make that choice and have to make the effort--for many in my city and the world, it's the only option they have.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
On paper writing
In celebration of finishing my CTC paper, I present some musings on the process of paper writing.
Writing papers is the delight and bane of my academic existence. I love reading books and summarizing content, organizing ideas and making a logical argument, saying things with just the right word and producing an elegant, well-crafted paper that is interesting, accessible and edifying.
This, perhaps is my problem. When I'm in the midst of researching or writing and really excited, this all just flows and it's exhilarating to do. But reaching that threshold and pushing through seems to take me a long time, partially because objectively, it's a pretty daunting task to reach the standard I set for myself. So many things need to happen and there are so many ways to go wrong. Hardly a relaxing process.
That said I have observed several things about my own process of writing papers:
- I always go for primary sources if possible. They're really helpful.
- One of the benefits of computers is being able to "write" fast. So I take down every single quote that I think might be relevant to my topic. Then they're all gathered into one document, already typed up, and if I need direction, easy to refer to.
- This one is thanks to Regent: start with a good research question. Especially for this last paper, it's done wonders for keeping me on track. Every time I got lost in my ideas and asked "what am DOING," my question pointed me back in the right direction.
- I very rarely worry about the length of papers because I've developed a knack for picking topics that are the "right size."
- I have not yet mastered using outlines effectively--I need to just start writing and that process clarifies my ideas (or at least shows where they're muddled).
- Finally, and this has been the hardest thing to accept about paper-writing and the major reason I have such trouble with procrastination: my method of paper-writing is inherently inefficient and I haven't found any way around that. I will read books with information I don't use. I will redefine my thesis twelve times. I will write nearly three full drafts worth of stuff before I have my ideas under control and can bash out the final version. Not only that, but I have to write out the final version by hand--typing just doesn't work.
Well, that was fun. Now I need to clean up the wreckage that always follows paper writing--gather up all the loose papers and put them away, put library books in a bag to be returned, wash dishes...
Writing papers is the delight and bane of my academic existence. I love reading books and summarizing content, organizing ideas and making a logical argument, saying things with just the right word and producing an elegant, well-crafted paper that is interesting, accessible and edifying.
This, perhaps is my problem. When I'm in the midst of researching or writing and really excited, this all just flows and it's exhilarating to do. But reaching that threshold and pushing through seems to take me a long time, partially because objectively, it's a pretty daunting task to reach the standard I set for myself. So many things need to happen and there are so many ways to go wrong. Hardly a relaxing process.
That said I have observed several things about my own process of writing papers:
- I always go for primary sources if possible. They're really helpful.
- One of the benefits of computers is being able to "write" fast. So I take down every single quote that I think might be relevant to my topic. Then they're all gathered into one document, already typed up, and if I need direction, easy to refer to.
- This one is thanks to Regent: start with a good research question. Especially for this last paper, it's done wonders for keeping me on track. Every time I got lost in my ideas and asked "what am DOING," my question pointed me back in the right direction.
- I very rarely worry about the length of papers because I've developed a knack for picking topics that are the "right size."
- I have not yet mastered using outlines effectively--I need to just start writing and that process clarifies my ideas (or at least shows where they're muddled).
- Finally, and this has been the hardest thing to accept about paper-writing and the major reason I have such trouble with procrastination: my method of paper-writing is inherently inefficient and I haven't found any way around that. I will read books with information I don't use. I will redefine my thesis twelve times. I will write nearly three full drafts worth of stuff before I have my ideas under control and can bash out the final version. Not only that, but I have to write out the final version by hand--typing just doesn't work.
Well, that was fun. Now I need to clean up the wreckage that always follows paper writing--gather up all the loose papers and put them away, put library books in a bag to be returned, wash dishes...
Monday, January 17, 2011
brief update
Christmas holidays were great, back in Canada, already behind, classes are awesome, and this has been my day...
Hopefully life will proceed without too much excitement for the next couple of weeks.
Hopefully life will proceed without too much excitement for the next couple of weeks.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
sailing into harbor
Well, I have navigated myself through the academic seas of Regent College and have emerged mostly unscathed! (Hopefully my GPA is in the same boat.)
Ah...I've loved my classes this term, but there is an undeniable release that comes with being totally done with everything for the term, especially when, for the most part, you feel like you've done your best work.
Now I get to return to the real world and all of those things that have been sadly neglected while I closeted myself away in academia-land. This means cleaning, shopping and mailing of Christmas presents, writing a Christmas letter, writing a family update, catching up on correspondence, and maybe a few more blog entries (lots of writing, you notice). Tomorrow I get to see Sarah and then on Sunday its down to Washington to visit Katie before heading home for Christmas.
It really is like returning from the high seas and needing to get all your shopping in while you're at port!
Ah...I've loved my classes this term, but there is an undeniable release that comes with being totally done with everything for the term, especially when, for the most part, you feel like you've done your best work.
Now I get to return to the real world and all of those things that have been sadly neglected while I closeted myself away in academia-land. This means cleaning, shopping and mailing of Christmas presents, writing a Christmas letter, writing a family update, catching up on correspondence, and maybe a few more blog entries (lots of writing, you notice). Tomorrow I get to see Sarah and then on Sunday its down to Washington to visit Katie before heading home for Christmas.
It really is like returning from the high seas and needing to get all your shopping in while you're at port!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
just desserts
Today marked the exciting occasion of the Old Testament Foundations midterm. It's the first major test at Regent for most of us new students. We were told to study hard and I think most of us did. Before the exam, our professor remarked that the real value of the exam had already occurred by the time we were all sitting in the chapel at 1:00--we'd been sufficiently intimidated to put in the time and energy to think through our lectures and reading. Unsurprisingly, the exam is just an afterthought in terms of learning.
For all its anxiety, exam preparation is a great communal bonding experience. There's actual studying together, the exchange of random questions, and our fabulous review tutorial, where three teams (self-named "Babylonians," "Israelites," and "Anti-Theonomists") squared off, jeopardy style.
However, the greatest part of the test-taking happened afterward. When I emerged from the chapel with the first wave of finishers, there were pieces of paper (seven, to be exact), saying C-O-O-K-I-E-S, with an arrow. In the atrium there was a spread of cookies and a sign congratulating us on completing our first Regent midterm, organized by a group of kind second-years (mostly), who were in our shoes not too long ago.
If that isn't Regent (and Regent students) in a nutshell, I'm not sure what is.
For all its anxiety, exam preparation is a great communal bonding experience. There's actual studying together, the exchange of random questions, and our fabulous review tutorial, where three teams (self-named "Babylonians," "Israelites," and "Anti-Theonomists") squared off, jeopardy style.
However, the greatest part of the test-taking happened afterward. When I emerged from the chapel with the first wave of finishers, there were pieces of paper (seven, to be exact), saying C-O-O-K-I-E-S, with an arrow. In the atrium there was a spread of cookies and a sign congratulating us on completing our first Regent midterm, organized by a group of kind second-years (mostly), who were in our shoes not too long ago.
If that isn't Regent (and Regent students) in a nutshell, I'm not sure what is.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
being Canadian
So I have now been in Canada for over two weeks. I could regale you with a list of "things that are different in the Canada than in the US" but such lists are usually fairly boring, so really, all you need to know is that cheese is REALLY expensive here. Or at least it feels very expensive for something that is so delicious and useful. Ah well, I suppose living abroad involves such sacrifices. I'll manage somehow. :)
In any case, Vancouver more than makes up for its other minor flaws by giving me a marvelous public transportation system. I'm living on two useful bus lines (one to UBC, one to downtown via Kitsilano) and have come to realize that waiting for more than 10 minutes is something to be complained about. After living in DC, land of the wayward bus, this is nothing short of a miracle. Sorry DC, you lose on this one.
I've spent most of this week going to new student orientation. All of the presenters kept apologizing for the length of orientation and the amount of information being thrown at us, but after LVC orientation last year (which was longer in terms of both days and hours per day), I thought it wasn't so bad. In fact, I thought orientation was well planned and executed. Almost all of the talks and presentations were helpful (even necessary!) and the days were nicely paced in terms of information and student attention spans.
For me, hearing again about Regent's vision, short interviews with several profs, and meeting other students really helped me mentally "move in" to Vancouver, to Regent and to the work that I'll be doing next year. I'm looking forward to the beginning of classes on Monday. That's when the real work will begin.
One of the presentations on our last day of orientation was the most perfect "Canada in a nutshell" that I've ever heard. Granted, I have no basis for comparison, this being the only lecture I've ever heard about Canada, but it was brilliant. Prof. Stackhouse introduced Canada by saying that the best way to get a first grasp of Canada is to understand its geography (as opposed to say, its history or culture).
I think Canada and I have that in common. I have often felt that the best way to describe myself (and my history) is in terms of locations and where I have been geographically. I have lots of interests, experiences, and traits. But who I AM, is maybe someone who's been a little bit of everywhere and found a home and a family. I hope that happens here too.
In any case, Vancouver more than makes up for its other minor flaws by giving me a marvelous public transportation system. I'm living on two useful bus lines (one to UBC, one to downtown via Kitsilano) and have come to realize that waiting for more than 10 minutes is something to be complained about. After living in DC, land of the wayward bus, this is nothing short of a miracle. Sorry DC, you lose on this one.
I've spent most of this week going to new student orientation. All of the presenters kept apologizing for the length of orientation and the amount of information being thrown at us, but after LVC orientation last year (which was longer in terms of both days and hours per day), I thought it wasn't so bad. In fact, I thought orientation was well planned and executed. Almost all of the talks and presentations were helpful (even necessary!) and the days were nicely paced in terms of information and student attention spans.
For me, hearing again about Regent's vision, short interviews with several profs, and meeting other students really helped me mentally "move in" to Vancouver, to Regent and to the work that I'll be doing next year. I'm looking forward to the beginning of classes on Monday. That's when the real work will begin.
One of the presentations on our last day of orientation was the most perfect "Canada in a nutshell" that I've ever heard. Granted, I have no basis for comparison, this being the only lecture I've ever heard about Canada, but it was brilliant. Prof. Stackhouse introduced Canada by saying that the best way to get a first grasp of Canada is to understand its geography (as opposed to say, its history or culture).
I think Canada and I have that in common. I have often felt that the best way to describe myself (and my history) is in terms of locations and where I have been geographically. I have lots of interests, experiences, and traits. But who I AM, is maybe someone who's been a little bit of everywhere and found a home and a family. I hope that happens here too.
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