The Moore College Diaries 29/07/2010

Studying within the Christian community is full of unique experiences. From a distinct lack of competitiveness, to lecturers praying, to a common desire to learn. One of the most surprising aspects is the administration/lecturers actually taking on board the suggestions of students to improve the college experience.

In this spirit of collaboration, yesterday we had a first year feedback session. We got to air our (very few and minor) grievances, and our first year supervisors heard our concerns, with promises to make changes based on issues raised.

One thing I'm still trying to get my head around is the relationship between learning for learnings sake (or for serving's sake) as opposed to learning for better class marks. I know we're here for more than just getting the degree, but we are still assessed. And in some ways, learning for learnings sake will just mean a shift in the same discussions that most secular uni students have. They say P's get degrees, but for the student of learning, HD's are sure to please.

During our feedback session, one of the categories of discussion was 'assessments'. I'm told that at some stage in the last couple of years, Moore College had an educational review which led to a raft of changes. One such change was the invention of so-called 'formative exercises'. These are assessments which aren't really assessed. Or perhaps, they are assessed but with no bearing on your final result. The fact that these count for no marks, would certainly have no bearing on the amount of effort students will put in, because they're above that kind of pragmatic impetus. Another revolution was that in one class we were peer-assessed, which did count towards our marks. This was a rather unpleasant experience for me. I mean, I did really well and enjoyed it, but the discussions surrounding this exercise from different students were quite disturbing. It was in my opinion, a great idea which free from being worth marks, would have been an enjoyable experience.

These kind of tasks I think fail to realise what the average student is like. Sure, we're "not here for marks", and all that. We are "conscientious students" who are aware of "the danger of pride", and so simply "wish to learn". But there is a reason that we have assessments. There is a reason our subjects aren't purely pass/fail.

And that reason is because some of us are motivated by deadlines and repercussions. Dare I say, everyone is motivated by deadlines and repercussions to some degree. Give me two competing tasks, one worth marks and the other worth learning, and I'm certain to put more effort into the task worth marks. I'm the type of guy who says make everything worth my while, not purely of "educational" worth, but give me tangible assessment repercussions. The threat of poor marks is like an educational whip, which forces my hand to study hard and thus learn as much as possible.

Then at the end of the day, having been motivated to work hard by the threat of a giant 'FAIL' hanging over my head, even if I don't get a Distinction, I will be satisfied that I have learnt as much as possible.

Hill-songs ain't what they used to be

Herein lies the problem. I knew Hill-songs before I knew Hillsong. Now for the record, I'm kind of embarrassed by the amount I talk about church music on this blog. Its the cause of the majority of disagreements in churches, and whilst the discussion itself can be worthwhile, most often it isn't. But its what people talk about, and so here again is my two cents worth (though cumulatively I must be well into whole dollars by now).

I grew up in a church which by every decent definition you'd care to attempt, would qualify as evangelical. Not being an Anglican church, I knew nothing of hymnbooks. Well, I guess I did, but it wasn't a hymnbook, it was Mission Praise. In terms of a name, Mission Praise doesn't really mean very much, except it was probably the shortest unique combination of words that the publishers could come up with, to avoid plagiarism. 

In terms of music, I would call my church 'progressive conservative'. For example, we sang Shine Jesus Shine, but only a couple of times a year, and only a few times through on each occasion. Furthermore, we were singing Emu songs before Emu existed. Rob Smith led mission teams to our church, and to me was the closest I ever came to a Christian celebrity (I don't count Steve Grace because I think I associated him more in the 'guys with long hair' group rather than the 'Chritian celeb' group). So our church sang the latest songs, yet mostly in a reserved 'stoic white people' kind of way. The exception was our youth service where the occasional rhythmic clapping would be employed where the song suggested its inclusion (Blind man sat by the road and he cried, anyone?)

So as part of this progressive conservatism we often sang the Hill-song, Shout to the Lord. It was oft repeated and I would belt out this particular belter as if God's hearing was dependent upon my shouting. I'm singing it right now in my head. Anyways, when a Christian friend from church (whose beloved family is perhaps the closest our church family came to having a 'charismatic bent') offered me the lend of a Hillsong album, I was stoked. The impetus for the lending was hearing another Hill-song that I liked - the song was called Every Day - at an ISCF camp.

Every Day became my favourite Christian song, even though we didn't sing it at our church. I'm pretty sure this was during the earlier days of music piracy, and I think I illegally copied the album to my computer. A few weeks later, I was sharing the discovery of this song with a fellow leader from another church (Southern Cross Presbyterian) at the famed North Coast Christian Youth Convention.
He asked me,

What do you like about it?

It's really catchy?

What about the words?

They're okay, I guess, but I haven't really thought about them.

And I hadn't. But I'd been challenged and it pulled me up short. Now the song, from memory was only significant in its lyrical insignificance, but for me it revealed at gap in my theology.

I'm extremely thankful for that conversation (shout out to long lost pal Jason Smart), because had I moved to Sydney without this chat and its subsequent investigations, I have little doubt I would have found myself heading along just to 'check out' Hillsong. The theological robustness of my home church would I hope have started alarm bells ringing had I went along, but perhaps not. With one of the overwhelming characteristics of Hillsong being a failure to say much of anything, I may not have found much of anything to disagree with.

These hypotheticals have limited value, but I often do wonder what my faith would be like, and who it would be in, had I ended up at Hillsong church.

But back to my opening proposition. Herein lies the problem. Hillsong and their theological distinctives were, in my mind, implicitly endorsed with the singing of Hill-songs at my dear home church. Had I compared the things taught at each, the vastly different theology and priorities would have been clear. Had I asked the question, I'm certain the differences would be explained. But nonetheless the endorsement had been there.

This word of personal testimony is behind my long held conviction that its best for evangelical churches not to sing Hill-songs. I'm certain I share more in common theologically with Hillsong than some other authors of popular songs. Yet the difference lies with the inextricable connection between Hill-songs and Hillsong church. This song/theology connection just isn't present with other songs. Of course, the theology is always in the songs, but provided the lyrical content is broad enough to be in agreement with my personal convictions, the automatic association between song and theological movement isn't present.

But I wonder if Hill-songs today are what they used to be. They have become so widely sung that they are no longer immediately identifiable with Hillsong church. Furthermore, the broader range of Hillsong songwriters means the 'big names' that were synonymous with Hill-songs are not as obvious these days.

Okay, I've run out of steam.

You can work out if I have a point behind these ramblings. There's probably one in there somewhere.

I guess I should finish with the obligatory (yet no less heartfelt) acknowledgement that I have many good friends who attend Hillsong, and I'm certain the church contains many brothers and sisters in Christ.

Speaking of Christian friends - and its kind of related to what I've said - I have an older, wiser family friend who gently suggested I shouldn't criticise Hillsong because when the Muslims take over, pentecostals will be standing beside us. The counsel perhaps delves a little unhelpfully into paranoid media beat-ups, and its probably not the best advice I've ever received about determining the limits of fellowship, but it was heartfelt.

Shot Down

I've given up on photos.

That's it. I'm done. No more. I was at my sisters wedding on the weekend, and didn't take a single shot. When the bride and groom signed the marriage certificate, I stayed in my seat. There are professionals to do that kind of thing. When I was on my last holiday in the Northern Territory, I went on a jumping crocodile cruise where I took shots of the first two crocs, then put the Olympus away. I wanted to enjoy the trip through my own eyes rather than the camera lens.

I've realised that as a materialistic westerner, I collect experiences. I used to do it though ticket stubs. Now I do it through my camera. It's amazing how far our materialism extends. We no longer enjoy the experience itself, but we collect the experience. If I didn't get it on camera, it didn't happen. And the camera is the primary method of experience collection.

Well, I say, 'no more'! The camera is gone. If I really want a photo of a gig, I'll get it online. If I want a family photo, I'll get it off one of the other 12 cameras that get produced every time more than three people squash together and face the same direction at a family do. I hereby declare I am going to live in the moment, rather than after it.

In other words, I'm throwing out my experience collection.

To be clear, I think I'll keep the camera. Because I do enjoy the photography experience itself. But this wild snapping of anything that moves, is vanquished. A photo will serve to jog my memory rather than document the event.

Look out world, here I come.

New words

Most teenage boys go through a stage where they store all their clothes in their 'floor-drobe'. As soon as I heard that word, it entered my vocabulary and has never left. It captures the idea so perfectly, and it's oh so memorable.

Benny Pfahlert always talks about Australian works based salvation as, 'nice-ianity'. Again, it's a great word for the same reasons.

I've come across a couple more lately, which I hope stick in my brain.

A holiday at home is a 'stay-cation'.

The way most jobs are allocated in churches is someone is 'volun-told'.

Do you have any new words?

Practical Joke

--BEGIN RANT--
I got a message in my pigeon hole today which said;

Isaac (sic), Please come and see me about your OT1A essay. It seems your referencing is less than honest. - [Lecturer's name withheld]

So I rightly completely freaked out. I went to the library and re-borrowed some of my books. I was fairly well packing it. Stressed. Frazzled. Bemused. Because I couldn't work out what the problem would be? Did I have wrong page references? Did I paraphrase without quoting?

I didn't pay attention for two hours in class as I went through my referencing with a fine-tooth comb. Double-checked all the references which I'd copied between my draft document and the final version.

As it turns out, the note was a joke. Not written by the lecturer, but some jester. One, I assume, who is a reader of this blog.

Furthermore, as I did find a couple of extremely minor reference issues, to which I alerted the lecturer via email before we met, had this lecturer been the one who was marking this paper I would have seriously undermined the transparency/anonymity policy of the marking. I am now late to travel to my sister's wedding, and may miss having dinner with my extended family, an opportunity which occurs approximately twice a year.

Dear prankster, thank you for causing me to sin. I have spent the last 5 minutes since speaking to the lecturer (who assured me I can sleep easy), I have spent these minutes calling you all manner of names in my head which are not fit to print on this blog, nor to be spoken in refined company.

You, my friend, are a nincompoop.

--END RANT--

The Moore College Diaries 20/07/2010

I almost made it. Almost. Sometimes you can't help but run with a heap of bad cliches. So close, yet so far. Missed it by that much. I came within a whisker. It was like, running to the post office and just as you reach for the door... they lock it and turn out the lights. So here I was staring at my computer - the keyboard silent for the first time in hours - and I'm thinking, 'But I need to post this in time for my Mum's birthday'.

However, this was no birthday card.

I didn't get my essay in on time. It was due at 11.55PM, and I didn't make it. I ran as hard as I could but I didn't make it. I've probably spent well over thirty hours on the essay in total, including about twenty in the last two days. It's a weird kind of numbness. I don't think I've ever been late with an assignment in my life. I'm not upset, just disappointed.

The key decision came yesterday morning. Should I skip the first day of college, to get the assignment in on time? I didn't think that was the best way to start off a semester, so I sat through every minute of class, stealing a paragraph or two on the essay when I was able, and hoping I could make it. But it wasn't to be. I finished writing at about 10:30, and needed to cut out 450 words and do referencing. The words came out in plenty of time. But the referencing (even with Sarah's help) just took too long. That was the frustrating thing. All I still had to go was 1/2 the referencing, and also to write a 150 word "reflection", where I would "reflect" on my "feelings".

Now normally I would say Moore College operates on grace not law. If you have personal reasons behind being late with an assignment and let them know before, it's easy to get an extension (Does actually wanting to have a holiday, count?) Yet the grace/law thing reverses at the point of online assignment submission. Because the machine operates in five minute blocks, if the assignment is submitted after 11:55pm its late. Thus all our assignments are due by 11:55pm. I would much rather they tell us its due at 12:00, and then set the computer to accept until 12:05am. Ah well, I hope never to be in this position again. In the end, I didn't bother pushing through to finish my referencing. Come about 12:15 I thought, 'I've got another day, so I'll sleep on it.' But I was disappointed.

It's sad just how motivated by marks I am. I mean, that's all part of the psychological motivation (which includes deadlines) behind putting in the work, which will get me other learning benefits. But sacrificing those marks, hurts. Because I was done, the extra time isn't going to leave me in a better position content-wise than if I'd submitted sans referencing and reflection. Thankfully, I learnt a lot during the writing process. So I do have a quiet satisfaction that I decided to go to class, and sacrifice four or so marks for the sake of my learning.

The essay is titled, 'The illumination of biblical creation accounts through comparison with ancient Near Eastern literature.' My conclusion was something like, 'It's helpful but not essential'. The biblical account remains the primary source of interpretation, but the comparison confirms and clarifies (nuances?) meaning. As such, we do miss out on some richness of understanding if we ignore the cultural and literary light a comparative study sheds on the Bible.

Not one dot

Tall-poppy syndrome afflicts all Australians. We know it, don't we? All Australians are humble regular joes, just as we know that all Americans are arrogant jerks. That's how we think - it's hard-wired into our being. The Australian society's greatest goal is social equality. If you don't know it, our politicians certainly do. Did you notice Gillard was out in the media this week claiming she's just a regular ole gal (or perhaps a 'bloody normal sheila')? Have you noticed how if an Australian male is travelling in a taxi by himself, he always sits in the front seat? I'm told this is peculiar to Aussies. It's because we're all mates, and a cab ride is just a mate giving another mate a lift (at $1.83/km). This way of thinking ensures we cut one another down if we think they're getting a big head, full of themselves, or start to think their poop smells better than most.

Now due to the dreaded syndrome, boasting is especially hard to do in this country. But we manage. Because, let's face it - the tall-poppy syndrome is merely pride in the name of equality. It's kind of reverse-pride, where rather than putting ourselves forward, we pull others back. But because of the syndrome, we need to invent clever ways to be boastful, without appearing to be.

I have no such pretense. I want to be boastful for just a minute. Please allow me to indulge my inner selfishness for a brief moment. Of course, in true Australian style I'll try and disguise it with a joke, but we all know what I'm doing.

My boast needs some background, but stick with me.

Let me tell you a bit about the Hebrew language. Hebrew is a semitic language. I couldn't be bothered googling the definition of semitic language, but I imagine it would be something like, 'It has squiggly letters like Arabic'. But more than that, in some forms, as well as being squiggly, it has dots. Lots of dots. Dots above the letters, dots below the letters, dots in letters. It's as if someone has printed it out on a faulty printer. Or perhaps as if hundreds of tiny bugs have died over the years and been squashed onto the parchment.

I tell you all this, because I've finally worked out what Jesus meant when he said this during the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5:18

Not a dot will pass from the law, until all is accomplished.

I finally get it. I understand what Jesus was saying.

I was one dot off getting 100% on my Hebrew exam.

One. Lousy. Dot.

This is what I wrote;

This is what I should have written;

One dot.

I'm almost back...

It's 2:10am. I'm at Darwin airport sleeping here the night ready for a 7:00am flight back home. And it's super slow typing on my phone. This is a bit of a nothing post but I felt I needed to take a break from essay writing (and share with the world) that i just tried to type the word 'alternative' but it came out 'alternatative'. I guess that's what happens when you're essay writing at 2 in the morning. It's not due until Tuesday but I have to pass the hours somehow. I assume much of it will be useless but I should also get a few laughs when I re-read it once I regain consciousness tomorrow.

Lots of blog ideas arising from my break. Feeling fresh. See you all soon.

Also I'm considering putting word verification back on as I've had to delete about 7 Chinese spam comments on the J.Gill post since I wrote it.

Oh, and I passed all my exams.

That is all.