I took a look today in a lighter moment at some of the search terms people have been using lately. There were some real gems.

To the person who searched for “how do you type actual faces”: you don’t – use a camera instead. If, however, you were looking for how to make smilies, then try this page.

I was pleased someone shares at least one of my political opinions – or so it seems. Well done to the person who searched for “Nigel Farrago”! (I take that to be – as I have used it also – a reference to the former leader of UKIP – the self-regarding Nigel Farage.)

I have a horrible feeling that the person who searched for “miss sinless” has an odd taste in ironically titled porn stars. I could be wrong about that, but there’s something about the name that conjures up a world of S & M.

I’m not quite sure who the modest would-be physicist was who searched for “i like cosmology but im not smart” – I’m even less sure how they ended up here.

Finally, I am intrigued by the number of people who’ve ended up on one of my posts warning about a particularly nasty piece of spam – this turns out to be one of my most–found-by-searches posts of them all, and I’m delighted to be able to provide a public service.

My day job is changing – to the extent that with another colleague we’re having to pick up a departing colleague’s workload (she will not be replaced) and gain another parish as well. I’ve therefore been engaged in a fairly massive deck-clearing operation which has involved lots of shredding, throwing out of old material, a general tidying and several trips to the tip.

Along the way I’ve been reading fewer blogs, participating less on discussion lists, and posting less here myself. If I’ve neglected to reply to anyone, or take up a point, sorry, but perhaps you’ve been relieved at my making a smaller contribution to clogging up cyberspace.

It has made me realise that I’ve got a lot more work done with less blogging! I note that David Keen bravely gave it all up for Lent. I’ll be very interested to see how he evaluates that at Easter. Personally, I hope he keeps blogging, because he’s very interesting, but I shall have a better understanding of why he might not do so now. Indeed, I’ve been wondering how much – if at all – I should continue to blog, and how much I might need to discipline myself to do it less often.

For now, I intend to continue. For one thing, I’d like to finish my series on the 39 articles. For another, I do find it useful to be able to think out loud, and certainly appreciate those of you who take time to comment and help me refine my thinking. For yet another, I know there are things I want to say in some areas, and I appreciate having the outlet.

So, even if my posts are fewer from time to time, I hope you’ll keep reading, and that the posts will be worth your time. I enjoy the blogs many of you have, and I appreciate the feedback you give me here. It’s good to be part of this wider community, and I hope that fewer posts here will increase the signal-to-noise ratio.

Peter Carrell continues his attempts to find eirenic ways forward for the fractious Anglican Communion, having read Melbourne assistant bishop Peter Elliott’s article on Damian Thompson’s blog. In that article he seeks to argue that the Anglican Ordinariate is not much different from a Uniate Church or an eparchy (as uniates are known when they’re part of an immigrant community outside their own lands.

Reading this, Peter comments

I am now wondering why we Anglicans cannot be that smart – ACNA as an eparchy in North America? Why not! And if TEC want to form an eparchy in the UK? Why not!

We could all be in communion with Canterbury, and our bishops could meet together in conference.

OK. I know. Some of those bishops just will not make the necessary compromises.

It’s a great attempt, but sadly I’m not convinced by this rather creative idea. An eparchy is distinguished by some combination of rite, ethnicity and language, and exists because of emigration exporting the rather complex history of middle European countries.

Rome permits cultural differences of this sort (and has sometimes only done so grudgingly) but there is no doctrinal difference, and nor would one be permitted. Further, no uniate church could claim another was not truly the church.

It’s not at all clear to me that the Ordinariate has much in common with a Uniate Church. In the UK at least (and I suspect elsewhere) most of these people are not Anglican Rite anyway, but Roman Rite, at least as far as the breviary and missal go. They have no particular patrimony to bring, merely the habit of glorifying the office of episcopacy by disobeying every specific bishop, and speaking of the Holy Father as the oracular voice of God, while denying his teaching about the invalidity of their orders. This is hardly the model of obedient communion of different cultures which the Uniate Churches are supposed to be a model of.

To cap things off Bp Elliott is also somewhat disingenuous in claiming the Uniate Churches as a fig-leaf to cover Rome’s naked authoritarianism. English speaking countries are just rediscovering that as Episcopal Conferences have lost the right to translate the liturgy into actual English, because the Vatican doesn’t trust them to express the Latin doctrine soundly enough in their own language. This is mainly an attack on the liberal (as the Vatican sees it) attitude of the US bishops to gender inclusive language.

Now that’s monolithic for you.

Help! I’ve been tagged by Lingamish in a highly provocative post. In a nutshell he writes:

What do we do about the curses, the bloodshed, and the vengeance found in the Old Testament? The answer is very simple: we skip it.

In making his point he willingly acknowledges the ways in which the pleas for vengeance in the Psalms, for example, mirror our own instincts in certain situations, however he sees that (and by implication the OT) as something to be redeemed. He goes on to illustrate what is a rather Girardian take on the problem of sin and its solution by claiming Jesus as someone who also edits the vengeance out of Scripture.

Consider Jesus’ method of “skipping” the violence of the Old Testament during the opening quotation in his sermon recorded in the Gospel of Luke: … Jesus is quoting Isaiah 61:1-2 but has deliberately left out half of verse 2 … “the day when our God will seek vengeance”

Well, there are no answers here. But since I’ve been asked, I will try out a few observations.

I think the sermon at Nazareth as a preface to Jesus’ ministry is a Lukan literary creation that is programmatic for his account of the one who dies with “Father, forgive” on his lips. Luke has a more radical idea of repentance as rooted in God’s initiative than the other gospel writers, and is perhaps the easiest to interpret in Girard’s categories. Girard’s work is also a tremendously attractive explanation of sin and atonement, but while I feel its pull, I keep feeling some important issues of justice are getting lost. The best of the Old Testament (and New Testament) expressions of divine violence are statements of God’s passion against injustice and evil, however much we might want to express things differently.

One of the interesting moves made by some of the earlier interpreters of Scripture, before the West became over-suspicious of allegory, was a reinterpretation of the texts of divine violence as warfare against the evil spirits and demons. It is an allegorisation broadly in line with the literal interpretation of other texts. I’m not quote sure how we might do any kind of demythologised allegorisation today, but perhaps this mythologically framed reinterpretation of the difficult texts has something to offer.

Of course, as Luke’s Jesus does, and as David does, we are all selective about our readings of Scripture in the light of the broad themes we adopt, or the methods we use to tame difficult texts to our own theology and morality. We are not alone in that. Our Jewish brothers and sisters do much the same with the text of the Old Testament, without needing the New Testament to do it. Indeed, some of the more vivid metaphors of God’s destructive condemnation come on Jesus’ lips. It is not confined to the Old Testament. That would suggest that there is no simple principle of selectivity that will let the text off the hook.

The human desire for vengeance reflected in a number of texts is not very far removed in many cases from a desire for the destruction of evil and the establishment of justice. The vengeful instinct may be a distortion, but it is a distortion of our better instinct: the desire for justice. And the desire for justice may be one of the more powerful pointers of our hearts towards the existence of God. For is it not true that in the end, only God can guarantee a justice that sees the human heart, and whose judgement may yet lead to restoration?

Perhaps then, wrestling with all the problem texts may lead to a deeper appreciation of justice, and in the end a justice that may look suspiciously like mercy. That’s why we need to keep those difficult texts, admit to their awkwardness, wrestle with them and argue with them. Perhaps in the course of that conversation which takes them seriously, we will admit both that we long for justice, but that left to our own devices, we’re more likely to end up with vengeance. And perhaps we need these texts of terror to help us learn the difference.

I was privileged to hear the photojournalist John McHugh today, talking at Focus on Imaging on his experiences in Afghanistan. This was part of a promotion organised by Canon, because he’s been using their EOS 5D for both video and stills.

It was absolutely fascinating both to hear about the process of gathering the news stories on film, and some first hand views from inside the training of the Afghan National Army. Some of McHugh’s earlier work has been bleaker about the prospects, but some of what he showed us today seemed to me to be more upbeat, with signs that the Afghans were beginning to take new pride in professional soldiering and the idea of its place in a democracy.

What we saw today were, in a sense, cuts of B-footage, since some of the best is being used for documentary work for Channel 4, and can’t be shown before that airs. Nonetheless the footage we did see was all from February this year, so very up-to-date, and a good example of what embedded journalism will get you when done with an open mind and a keen eye.

I’m sorry I haven’t been finding much time lately, not so much to blog, as to interact in one way or another with so many excellent blog posts around the place. I even failed to moderate a comment for over 12 hours today, so a particular apology to her archdruity for that.

In the meantime, while I hope to get back to more regular and more interactive blogging shortly, I commend some of my favourite non-academic blogs to you.

For general UK Anglican thought-provoking-ness I commend Mouse, who manages not to tie his whiskers up with gay issues, but stays broad.

For that wry smile about the weirdness of religion keep taking Archdruid Eileen’s satire.

As the Iraq enquiry continues, read the healthy antidote that is John Rentoul.

For a continuing unmasking of the horror that is the tabloid press, and especially all the evils of Paul Dacre, keep reading Tabloid Watch.

For wonderful photography, keep an eye on the Boston Globe’s inspiring Big Picture.

I’m grateful for Loren Rosson drawing my attention to this list of the 100 greatest sci-fi or fantasy novels of all time. (I obviously missed Stephen Carlson’s Facebook note.) These things are always subjective, not least because we all read different books, but by and large I would agree with Loren’s strictures: this list has strange inclusions and omissions.

(Since some of the graphics on the page are inaccessible to me, I may have missed some things on the list, but here goes with some further comments.)

Most noticeably, I agree entirely with Loren about the strange omission of anything by Stephen Donaldson. I would rate the first two Thomas Covenant trilogies at the top of my list – I’m yet to be convinced that the most recent sequels will achieve the same overall brilliance. I admire Donaldosn’s Gap series more than I like it – it’s the only Donaldson I haven’t really wanted to reread – and for fantasy with a lovely mix of humour and characterisation, I’m a great fan of his Mirror of their Dreams.

There are some very influential books that –on literary merit probably rightly – don’t make it to the top 100, although not all of those on the list have literary merit either. Among these omissions are any of Asimov’s robot novels, or one of the great space operas of all time, E.E. Doc Smith’s Lensman series.

Among the other very odd omissions are Wells’ Time Machine, and Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. I’m not sure I would represent Michael Crichton with either Jurassic Park or Sphere. Some of his earlier and harder sci-fi like The Andromeda Strain or the Terminal Man seem to me to be better books.

Among the writers I would also have liked to have seen represented are James Blish. His Cities in Flight series, or his After Such Knowledge trilogy (loosely speaking) are creative and powerful, although my own personal favourite is Jack of Eagles. Again, I find the omission a bit odd.

What would you include or omit from your lists?

(This post is one of a sporadic series on the Church of England’s Thirty-nine Articles)

There seems to be a sense that the eighteenth of the articles stands between the preceding set on salvation, and those that follow on the Church. Its primary stress is, I think, the uniqueness of Christ as Saviour, so fitting the slogan solus Christus with the sola fide and sola gratia of the articles on salvation. But the rather odd description referring to “Law and Sect” may also just hint at a Christocentric formulation of the old maxim extra ecclesiam nulla salus – no salvation outside the Church.

XVIII. Of obtaining eternal Salvation only by the Name of Christ.

They also are to be had accursed that presume to say, That every man shall be saved by the Law or Sect which he professeth, so that he be diligent to frame his life according to that Law, and the light of Nature. For Holy Scripture doth set out unto us only the Name of Jesus Christ, whereby men must be saved.

Even if this article does not actually state that “outside the church there is no salvation” it does seem to wish to stand in that tradition. It is difficult to see that the phrase “Law or Sect” is simply an indicator of what today we would call other religions. It no doubt includes such, but may also include various (possible historical or imaginary) Christian heresies. In fact, the Reformation at large is comparatively uninterested either in the question of other religions, or in the missionary impetus. Its horizons are primarily those of Christendom, and it is an internally focussed movement.

Nonetheless making that focus on Christ central does offer other ways of looking at the question, which making the church central does not. One of the few mentions of other religions (I’m not sure if it’s the only one) comes in one of the collects for Good Friday, which very much in the language of the time says:

O merciful God, who hast made all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made, nor wouldest the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live; Have mercy upon all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks, and take from them all ignorance, hardness of heart, and contempt of thy Word; and so fetch them home, blessed Lord, to thy flock, that they may be saved among the remnant of the true Israelites, and be made one fold under one shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.

The language of remnant suggest only some people will be fully brought into God’s eternal communion, yet the prayer is bold enough to pray God’s mercy for “all Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks” which rather odd specification is, I think, a summary of everyone not already a faithful Christian as Cranmer understood it. It seems that Cranmer believes universal salvation should be prayed for, even while restricting the way of salvation to Christ. What he does not do, is say anything explicit about what this means, mainly, I suspect because it wasn’t a “live” question for him. One presumes he intends baptism and faith, but he simply doesn’t fill in the blanks.

He is somewhat clearer in what he denies: no-one will come to this perfect communion with God independently of Jesus Christ. Equally he frames it as a particular form of denying salvation by works. No more for believers in other sects or laws than for those in the church is salvation a matter of steadfastly practicing good works. When it comes to religion, Christian and non-Christian, Cranmer is an equal-opportunities critic of works, and an advocate of faith alone. One senses this is the driving force of the article.

It continues to seem right to me that the Church must in one way or another affirm this Christocentric shape of entering into full communion with God. It is, above all, a logical entailment of believing in the incarnation. The particular historical life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the defining centre of creation, the fullest possible contact point between the eternal and the temporal, the necessary and the contingent, God and humanity.

By stressing a Christocentric engagement over and above an ecclesiological one, it also leaves open rather more possibilities for how God might bring people to himself beyond an overt Christian faith. It is after all when Paul most appreciates the divine action in Christ that he is impelled to his most universalist statement:

Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all. (Romans 5:18)

I cannot claim universalism as a certain fact on the basis of the few verses which give it a firm grounding: there are too many to the contrary. The tradition has made much more of those many negative verses, to the suppression of the few positive ones (Origen almost alone excepted). Nonetheless, though I would not frame my prayer as Cranmer phrased his Good Friday collect, I think that the full communion of a renewed creation in God is a prayer that Christians can and should pray in genuine biblical hope of its universal realization.

It is the love of God that should motivate the gospel, not the fear of death and hell. It seems to me there is much to commend in the prayer of the first female Sufi saint:

O God! If I worship you for fear of hell, burn me in hell,

and if I worship you in hope of paradise, exclude me from paradise.

But if I worship you for your own sake,

grudge me not your everlasting beauty.

There will always be those (sadly) who are more interested in advancing the virtue of their own theology and church by the willing –nay, enthusiastic – damnation of others. I may not be able to claim universalism as a fact or dogmatic certainty, but it seems to me profoundly Christian to pray for it with real hope. Let me conclude with words from father Faber’s wonderful hymn, “There’s a wideness in God’s mercy”

For the love of God is broader

than the measure of man’s mind;

and the heart of the Eternal

is most wonderfully kind.

But we make his love too narrow

by false limits of our own;

and we magnify his strictness

with a zeal he will not own.

Yesterday Andrew Brown tried an interesting idea of the sort that often becomes a blog meme:

I was prompted by an exchange in comments to wonder whether it was really true, as A. N. Whitehead claimed, that everyone thinks their own beliefs are the summit of western philosophy. So the challenge is a simple one. Name three people, preferably contemporaries, whom you honestly believe are smarter, better educated, and more honest than you are, but who disagree with you about God. So atheists must name believers, and vice versa.

One of the earlier commenters on the thread who rejoices in the soubriquet “Bubblecar” couldn’t see the point and in an astonishing display of arrogance opined:

One problem with this question is that I would regard subscribing to a belief in god as a fairly basic failure of the intellect, so much so that I would tend to automatically assume that theists are not as “smart” as I am.

So, it doesn’t matter how many obviously intelligent and highly educated people claim to believe in God, and offer rigorous and well-read argumentation for it, this person will assume they are less clever than he is. This is, is it not, a case of either disregarding or reinterpreting the evidence to fit one’s viewpoint. I can’t think of a better example of atheism as a fideist position, entirely willing to fit the evidence to an a priori belief system.

I take it that Brown’s meme was intended to help us face up to the awareness that there are admirable and clever people who disagree with us on this most controverted but profound question. It’s ironic that so many exchanges on his thread should be hijacked by the kind of reply that refuses to face up to such a basic acknowledgement of empirical reality, namely that very clever and honourable people disagree about God.

Although the commenter goes by the name “Bubblecar”, I can’t help thinking that bubblehead might be more appropriate – inordinately large and rather empty.

I find that some apps move in and out of my top five list while others are very long term residents. My top two are long term residents, accompanying me from Windows days into my Mac incarnation. Two are Mac only, and have been on my list from soon after switching. A fifth is one that comes and goes depending on the type of work I’m doing.

1. Photoshop. This is simply a wonderful app, always reliable for working purposes and a continuing adventure of discovery for fun and creativity. More than any other piece of software I use, Photoshop has me regularly saying, “Oh, that’s just cool.”
2. A fairly close runner-up, and a regular work-horse, is Photoshop’s younger sibling, InDesign. Both creative and precise, it helps me communicate by being sure what I produce will look good.
3. Keynote is the first Mac only app in this list, and to some extent drags the rest of iWork along with it. It makes presentations fun, and easy, and has a elegant ease of use that PowerPoint struggles to come close to.
4. The second Mac only app is the photo-managment app Aperture. I’m just getting used to its third iteration. So far, and I’m hoping patches might yet improve this, it is decidedly more sluggish than its predecessor, but its capabilities are so much more advance that it’s worth paying the price of a minor performance hit. If I were on Windows (and possibly if I were a pro photographer), I’d have no compunction about using Lightroom, but not being a pro, I find Aperture suits my way of working better.
5. The last on my short-list is the rather wonderful Dreamweaver. I haven;t come across anything I prefer for working on website development. Since I’ve been doing a bit more again lately, it’s elbowed its way back in to my top five.

There are a number of apps pushing hard on the shoulders of these. If I was on Windows I’d be looking at both Live Writer and Bibleworks. I’m slowly beginning to get to grips with Accordance on my Mac, and can see it making it in a future top five list. Among word-processors, I shall be looking to see if Pages gets more capable, or Mellel gets easier to use. My ideal would be a cross between these two which saved to an open and common file format!

There’s a lot of good software out there, and in one sense my listing of five is a little invidious. However this selection combines usefulness with being a pleasure to use. Your selection might be quite different. Are there other apps I should a) be trying out, and b) adding to this list?