Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs, come best from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need pruning, by study; and studies themselves do give forth directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty men condemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and discourse; but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only in the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books, else distilled books are like common distilled waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty; the mathematics subtle; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and rhetoric able to contend. Abeunt studia in mores [Studies pass into and influence manners]. Nay, there is no stond or impediment in the wit but may be wrought out by fit studies; like as diseases of the body may have appropriate exercises. Bowling is good for the stone and reins; shooting for the lungs and breast; gentle walking for the stomach; riding for the head; and the like. So if a man’s wit be wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the Schoolmen; for they are cymini sectores [splitters of hairs]. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyers’ cases. So every defect of the mind may have a special receipt.
A Bit on the Use of Images: Worshipful or No? August 10, 2007
A little while ago I made my way through St. John of Damascus’ Three Treatises on the Divine Images for a course on worship I was in. Having spent 6 years in a tradition that off-handedly dismisses any possible value images might have in worship, I found his articulation of a more eastern position quite refreshing. At one point he says,
“I do not venerate matter, I venerate the fashioner of matter, who became matter for my sake and accepted to dwell in matter and through matter worked my salvation, and I will not cease from reverencing matter, through which my salvation was worked. I do not reverence it as God—far from it; how can that which has come to be from nothing be God?—if the body of God has become God unchangeably through the hypostatic union, what gives anointing remains, and what was by nature flesh animated with a rational and intellectual soul is formed, it is not uncreated. Therefore I reverence the rest of matter and hold in respect that through which my salvation came, because it is filled with divine energy and grace….Is not the gold and silver matter, out of which crosses and tablets and bowls are fashioned? And…is not the body and blood of my Lord matter? Either do away with reverence and veneration for all these or submit to the tradition of the Church and allow the veneration of images of God…” (29-30).
Images are extremely common in our culture of mass entertainment and ubiquitous billboards. In many respects within our culture, images are adopted so that they may be associated with ideas or products that their own meaning wouldn’t normally involve. For instance, until Hooters came along, owls were free of their bondage to great buffalo wings (among other things). Prior to Budweiser, a frog would never have made me thirst for beer. As a child, if it weren’t for Bambi and his friends, I would never have craved MacDonald’s cheeseburgers. In these instances, the image is meant to direct one’s imagination down a path of false associations or, worse, to inhibit one’s own evaluative ability in relation to the idea or product at hand. But in each of these cases, images are used to restrict, not advance, one’s own imaginative process.
In a culture like contemporary America, it comes as no surprise that the Church is apprehensive about the use of images in worship. But it’s helpful to recognize that, traditionally, the Church has not sought to use images in order to propagate false ideas or to inhibit one’s imagination and understanding. Rather, with the recognition that there is too much meaning in the Christian faith for words alone to carry, the Church has turned to the use of images in order more fully to communicate the complexity and particularity of meaning with which she’s been entrusted.
In order to responsibly communicate the message that has been entrusted to us, we could use more care in our assessment of traditionally-grounded arguments, such as those for the use of images in worship. As the Church formed by God’s free grace, we must remember that the rejection of abuse does not include the rejection of proper use. Just because, as an average American, images have often played a restrictive role in my comprehension of the world around me, I am not free to disregard centuries of many cultural voices that attest otherwise. John of Damascus, for instance, makes a compelling case for the use of images in worship. Facing arguments similar to those made by Protestants today, he seeks to controvert any misunderstanding of his intentions in the use of images in worship. For John of Damascus, images are not in themselves worthy of worship; rather their connection to God and accurate representation of him invest them with their significance. John of Damascus recognizes that in Christ’s Incarnation he redeemed all of created matter. In this way, the boundary between Creator and creature has been bridged by the Creator himself. We were never meant to build a road to Heaven; rather, he had always intended to come to us.
It often seems that the Protestant, Presbyterian concern regarding images revolves around the fear that we may try to access God through unapproved means. Yet, John of Damascus here argues that in the Incarnation, God approved of created matter as a way of communicating who he is. In fact, he has always done this. Was not the tabernacle an image? The temple? Were not the twelve river stones on the bank of the Jordan an image? All of these were meant to indicate a reality that surpassed their own. While Jesus is that surpassing reality Incarnate, does that mean that only one generation of God’s people, those who were present with him on earth, were permitted to visually participate in worshiping Jesus as God? Likewise, Jim Forest notes that “Christ the Word is also Christ the Image: Logos and Ikon….And today we meet him not only with our ears but also with our eyes” (Beholding the Glory, 84).
Perhaps we have become so convinced by propositions regarding body-soul dualism that we forget the inherent value of embodiedness. Perhaps we are so historically distant from the events of Christ’s life that we have forgotten the monumental significance of God becoming man and dwelling among us on the very same earth on which we now live. If so, then John of Damascus perhaps indicts us all too clearly:
“Seeing, I venerate what I see, not as God, but as an honorable image of those worthy of honor. You, perhaps, are exalted and immaterial and have come to transcend the body and as fleshless, so to speak, you spit with contempt on everything visible, but I, since I am a human being and wear a body, I long to have communion in a bodily way with what is holy and see it” (43).
As the people of God seeking to live out the story advanced by Jesus in his earthly ministry, we are beholden to use all the means God has provided to us in order to communicate the truth. While images might not be considered a means of grace in our tradition, we cannot repudiate their significance in shaping our religious imagination. Whether in their absence or in their presence, they are already representing volumes of meaning. While there are still many questions to be asked regarding the use of images in worship, we must start with this one: Do we agree with what images are presently communicating, either in their presence or absence, in our worship?
Sermon Defined August 9, 2007
For a recent job application, I was asked, “What makes a great sermon?” Here’s the answer I gave:
A great sermon is the personal representation of the truth of God’s Word especially tailored to the needs, concerns, and sins of the congregation at that time. At the pastor’s discretion and humble leadership of the church, this can take a variety of forms—from topical to expository to narrative.
What would you all add or subtract from that definition? I’m interested to know because the definitions of sermons I most often receive are academic in nature, dealing more with the structure and length of the message rather than the content and people involved. From your vantage point, what makes a great sermon?
