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“You Guys”

My wife and I attended a Sunday service in St. George’s Chapel in Windsor Castle.  This is an incredible setting.  It is the Queen’s home church and where she will be buried.  This was where Harry and Megan were recently married.  This is the Mother Church of the Order of the Garter.

The Canon was preaching on the subject of anger from Ephesians 4:26-27, “Be angry, and yet do not sin.”

He started his sermon with some levity, giving a list of some the little things that make him angry.  Typical of an urban Englishman, two irritants had to do with the underground:  failing to give up a seat to an older or disabled person and people putting their feet on the seats.

The one where I actually laughed out loud–my chortle echoing from the neo-gothic rafters, was “Being addressed with the collective ‘You Guys’ from a speaker half my age.”

I can totally relate.  That bugs me too.

I was once “you guysed” three times in a minute.

I think the issue is propriety.  “You guys” is idiomatic and colloquial.  It’s meant to be used in contexts of familiarity–among friends when both the speaker and the friends are between 14 and 24.  “You guys” is not an appropriate appellation for your grandparents.

Whatever can we say instead?

Let me offer my revision to the following announcement made by a 20-something to a multi-gendered, multi-generational gathering who naturally says:

Hey you guys.  I just wanted to let you guys know that we are having a potluck next week Thursday.  So you guys get to chose what you wanna bring: a salad or a dessert.  Hope to see you guys there.

Consider saying it this way:

Hello.  I just wanted to let you know that we are having a potluck next week Thursday.  So you get to chose what you wanna bring: a salad or a dessert.  Hope to see you there.

This is a small thing, and I wasn’t going to mention it until I realized that it’s not just me.  That the Dean of St. George’s Chapel is similarly irked, emboldened me to speak out on this irritant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Sunday Music Must Be As Unlike Pop Music As We Can Make It

If the amount of time given to the singing of praise and worship songs,

and the central position of the praise band on “the stage” is any indication,

many North American churches are implicitly asserting that singing of praise songs as the main way we interact with God in our Sunday services.

This means we’d better get it right.

We have all heard people, including some worship leaders, speak as if the term worship was synonymous with singing.  Even the title “worship leader” suggests the reduction of worship to singing.  Worship leader is an appropriate title if said worship leader also leads the congregants in the many other aspects of worship.  For instance:

  • prayer
  • scripture reading
  • the offering
  • the reading of the law
  • confession and assurance of forgiveness
  • the recitation of the Apostle’s Creed
  • funeral announcements
  • pleas for volunteers for the Sunday School
  • and anything else besides singing that also constitutes worship

If the worship leader only leads signing, then they should be referred to as song leaders.

But isn’t this just semantics?  Although it may seem like I am being petty, this is some serious stuff.

Little things like

  • using the terms singing and worship interchangeably,
  • and calling song leaders, worship leaders,
  • and removing all sign of the sacraments from the stage,
  • and calling that area “the stage”
  • and calling that area “the auditorium,”

are hugely important because we do them habitually.  The things we do habitually, change us–they shape what we do and the way we think and who we are.  If we habitually use the term “stage,” for instance, we will come to understand what happens on it to be a performance.

According to James K. A. Smith, human beings are liturgical animals.  He argues that our lives are not given direction by what we think, or even what we believe, but by what we love.  According to Smith, “what constitutes our ultimate identities—what makes us who we are, the kind of people we are—is what we love. More specifically, our identity is shaped by what we ultimately love, or what our love as ultimate—what, at the end of the day, gives us a sense of meaning, purpose, understanding and orientation” (26–27 Desiring the Kingdom).   Smith then argues that our loves are shaped and directed by “liturgies”–habitual practices.  Traditionally the church used to orient our identities toward God and the community of faith through all sorts of liturgies: the physical spaces of worship, the sacraments, the church calendar, genuflecting, kneeling, standing, offering  “Peace.”  Fish on Friday, the rosary, daily prayers, and many other regular and repeated practices linked the spiritual realm with daily life.  In modern Christianity, we’ve abandoned almost all of these habits and rituals–liturgies.  But, we’ve not abandoned liturgies . for being liturgical animals, we’ve simply adopted new ones.  We’ve replaced the old ones with new ones.  And the new ones are largely modern and secular: Starbucks and McDonalds, Saturday hockey and Sunday football, Homecoming and Holloween, Twitter and Snapchat, You Tube and Netflix, craft beer and green-coloured smoothies, inclusion and saying “I feel,” when we mean “I think.”   These are not just things we do, they shape who we are because they are regular, habitual–they are liturgies.

We have replaced sacred liturgies with secular liturgies.  This ain’t good if you believe that a spiritual reality is meaningfully interacting with the material one.

Why do people have such a hard time with faith in our culture?  Because our rituals direct our passions and desires to other things–other ultimate loves.  There is some (a lot of?) anxiety in the North American Church about people, especially young people, vacating the pews.   To retain their members, and attract new ones, many churches have attempted to become more culturally “relevant,” but this has exacerbated the problem.  Being culturally relevant usually means importing secular liturgies into the church.  The Starbucks’ Coffee culture, showing movies on Youth Nights, dress-up parties on Reformation Day and the singing to the instrumentation and stylings of popular music are examples. The problem is that secular culture does these liturgies better than the church does, so the church is actually training people to eventually prefer Starbucks and pop concerts to Church.

According to the Westminster Confession, one of the functions of the sacraments is as a “visible difference between those that belong unto the church and the rest of the world.”  The authors of the Confession understood the importance of having a different experience at church than in the world.

Our rituals used to be different than those of the world, but in some churches, even our sacraments are being secularized.  For the health, and perhaps survival, of the North American church, we need to be different, not the same.

Here are some questions that might be a part of a discussion around how to make the singing part of worship, unlike the secular liturgy of the popular music concert:

  • How can we increase the involvement of the congregation in the singing part of worship?
  • Is there a way to teach the worshipers how to harmonize?
  • Should we sing more hymns?
  • Should we sing different hymns (than just the 5 we do now)?
  • Should we sing hymns in their original forms, same harmonies and no modern (and inferior) additions?
  • Are volumes and mixes supporting congregational singing, or drowning it out?
  • Can we use different instrumentation than a typical rock and roll band?
  • Can we develop different song structures besides the verse-verse-chorus-verse-bridge-chorus-chorus pattern?
  • Could we create a new genre of Christian music for corporate worship?
  • Is it necessary for the worship band to be front and centre?
  • How can we utilize lighting to take the focus off of the musicians?
  • Can we resurrect some traditional liturgical forms or elements of worship?
  • Can we invent new liturgical forms that are different than secular liturgies?
  • How can we emphasize God’s action in worship and the sacraments?
  • Can we move toward thinking about the sacraments as more than ceremonies of remembrance?
  • Can we mention, or even link our sermons to, the church calendar?

This list includes just some of the ways that we could bring more sacred liturgies into the Sunday service.  Do you have any ideas you could add to this list?

 

 

The Focus of Worship

Chapel at Magdalen College, Oxford

Traditionally, Christian worship has been arranged around two things, the Word and the sacraments.  These were the means by which human worshipers interacted with the transcendent God.  In churches with the more contemporary feel, a new means of encountering God has been given center stage.

In the Roman Catholic worship service, the sacraments are emphasized–particularly the Eucharist.  The primacy of the Eucharist is obvious; the altar from which Holy Communion is served is front and center.

After the Reformation, the new forms of Christian worship still emphasized Word and sacraments, but their importance was inverted.  The sacraments, reduced to two, were moved to the side.  The pulpit upon which sits a huge Bible takes center stage.

From Sacrament and Word to Band

More recently, North American Christianity has apparently undergone another reformation; this one much quieter than the first, but it is not insignificant.  The modern church has cleared the stage of the Word and Sacrament and replaced them with the worship band.  Some might argue that the Word and the sacraments are still central, it’s just that the physical representations of these things needed to be moved to make room for musicians and instruments; it’s not a shift in meaning, but merely a physical shift made from practical considerations.

My core assumption here, and why I think all of this matters so much, is that the physical environment and liturgies of worship have profound effects on the worshipers. and how they think about the God who we worship.

When the Word is the focus of worship we find a very active God.  In the scriptures, God interacts with his creation and with his people.  He speaks, breaths, commands, warns, condemns, promises and whispers.  He causes water to come from rocks and turns it into blood.  He makes walls fall and curtains tear.  Jesus is the Word made flesh; he healed, walked (even on water), taught, ate, fed, died, rose and ascended.  The Holy Spirit is also active as we read scripture.  He guides, comforts, indwells, guards, intercedes, baptizes, restrains and combats. God is active in the sacraments as well.  In baptism, he makes promises and in doing so he creates a people.  In Communion, Jesus extends the elements to us and says “take and eat,” “take and drink.”  When the Word and sacraments are central, and properly understood, we cannot help but understand our God to be active in worship, and in our lives.

Human beings are shaped by worship, especially through the things that we repeat every Sunday.  With the weekly repetition of the Eucharist, Catholic worshipers come to the profound understanding of the unifying presence of Christ in his body the church and the Grace we receive by his death.  With the Protestant emphasis on preaching, the weekly reading and exposition of scripture help the faithful to understand the centrality of the Word in our life.

When the worship band takes center stage, something changes.  Or at least there is a danger that something very important could change.

Properly understood, the Word and the sacraments point to Christ and they present our interaction with an active God. When the worship band takes center stage, something changes.
Who is active in the singing part of the service?  It seems to me the human beings are the primary actors, and this is a problem.  We can be receiving a weekly reminder that God is passive. One might argue that, just as in the sacraments, both God and humanity take part.  But this isn’t so obvious in practice.  Singing is something we do–we are active, but we think of God as listening–possibly smiling during the choruses or seriously nodding if the song has a confessional element.  When worship is primarily singing, God is relatively passive.

Things get worse when the band steps out of the worship leading role into a performance role making both God and congregants passive.  Now the musicians and singers are the only ones doing anything in worship.  Almost every worship leader that I know would recoil at this suggestion because they are forever on their guard for this shift, but just because they don’t intend it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t or it cannot happen in the minds of the congregants.  It really is a no win situation; if the worship leaders are not a little animated then it seems like they are not engaged and worship lacks energy, but if they move around a little bit, they are accused of drawing attention to themselves.  Perhaps this conundrum is a symptom of the deeper issue.  That the worship band shouldn’t be front and centre in the first place.

The problem is that from the central position, the Praise and Worship band is almost identical to secular performance bands.  It’s a minuscule shift, then, for the congregation to move into the role of the audience.  This shift isn’t unavoidable, but it requires some deliberate effort from the individual worshiper to experience the Sunday worship music in a different way than they would a concert.  And churchgoers aren’t usually doing this work.

I am certainly not saying that singing praise and worship songs in church is a bad thing, we may have gained much with this shift in focus, but perhaps we’ve lost something too.

I’m not sure where to go from here, but I have some discussion questions that might help us address these issues.

  • How can we do communion and baptism in ways that help us to see God’s activity in them?  If we’re calling them ordinances instead of sacraments, should we rethink that?
  • Can we put the table, the font and the pulpit someplace on the stage, with the praise and worship band?
  • And can we preach from something other than a music stand?
  • How can we do worship music in such a way that it’s as unlike a rock concert or dance club as we can make it? Can mix our volumes in such a way that the voices of the worshipers are heard?  Can we reduce the lighting on the musicians?  And can we turn down the bloody bass!?

This last point will be the subject on my next post:

 

 

 

Infant Baptism and Individualism

A few weeks back, we attended the parish Communion service in the Bath Abbey.

Two children were baptized in the service.

Baptism services always get me thinking.

While I attend a church that practices only believer baptism, I think that infant baptism was practiced in the New Testament church and is therefore biblical.  I concede that the scriptural support of infant baptism is contestable, but what is incontestable is the practical superiority of infant baptism as a ritual that prepares us to resist modern idolatries.

The community dimension:

On two occasions in the service, once from the altar and once from the Victorian baptismal font by the entrance of the sanctuary, the officiant emphasized the community of believers that was at that moment gathered around the child.   This community is to be “the resources and support” to the parents of those about to be baptized.  The importance of the community and its relationship to the child about to be baptized is central to the ceremony.

All those assembled made a solemn promise to meaningfully participate in the raising of these children in the faith.  The parents did, of course, but godparents were commissioned as well, adding another layer to the community.  I found it fascinating that the godparents made the same promises as did the parents. They didn’t just consent, but acknowledged their inadequacy by saying,  “With the help of God we will.”

Interestingly, the vows made by the community were almost exactly the same as those made by the parents and godparents.   They promised to “welcome and uphold” those about to be baptized, to “pray for them” and “draw them by example into the community of faith and walk with them in the way of Christ.”  They too acknowledge their limitations by promising, “With the help of God we will.” So many people are committing to these children, and they just lay there oblivious to it all.

Imagine the impact of this ritual over the life of the Christian.  Every baptism service is a reminder of the same basic truths:

  • That every adult within the community has the responsibility in drawing the individual into the community.
  • That human effort alone is insufficient to draw the individual into the flock.
  • That the body of Christ, comes first– the eye is there for the body, not the body for the eye.
  • That this is all about Grace; I was welcomed into the family of God, and I could do nothing but drool.

Where churches practice believer’s baptism, a “baby dedication” replaces baptism to commemorate the inclusion of the child in the church community.  While the congregational will often make a promise, the focus of this, usually casual, event is on the commitment of the parents.  In the believer’s baptism, the role of the community is as a passive observer as the baptism is the result of the individual’s decision to follow Jesus.  As in modern culture, in the modern ceremony of baptism, the role of the larger community is diminished and that of the individual is expanded.

Through baptism, individuals are not choosing God, rather, God is building a people.
The God Dimension:

The Liturgy of Baptism we followed in Bath Abbey begins,  “In baptism the Lord is adding to our number those he is calling.”  The idea here is that through baptism, God is building a people.

The liturgy begins with the recognition that baptism is about what God is doing.  God is very active in baptism; he’s not just adding; he’s also calling, helping and giving.

The liturgy declares that faith is a gift. A gift needs a giver. God is the giver and the gift is underserved. All Christians believe this, but human helplessness is better illustrated a drooling baby than a 23-year-old who has finally decided to follow Jesus.

The hebdomadal dimension:

Baptismal Font in St. Gile’s Church, Sidbury

This is a rare word that means weekly.

When you enter the Bath Abbey or any Anglican church, you walk past the baptismal font.  It’s very large and it’s been there hundreds of years. The members of this church were likely baptized at this very font.  But even if they were not, every week when they gather to worship, they walk past this physical reminder of their own baptism–they are reminded again of the basic truths inherent in the service of baptism in the Church of England.

I might be an exception, but the presence of the font in every church I entered, reminded me of my own baptism into a community that in its largest sense, includes the Anglican worshipers in the churches I visited this summer.

I think that a weekly reminder of God’s grace and the community of faith might be a powerful corrective to the idolatry of individualism that so dominates our thinking in the modern church.

Obviously, my argument here will not convince any believer baptists to become baby baptizers, but regardless of who we baptize when (let’s put baby dedication into here as well), we need to be deliberate about emphasizing God’s actions and the important role of the community going forward.

What We Can Learn from the Dress Code

As the weather turns warmer, I again hear of some student displeasure with the dress code–this sentiment is as cyclical as the seasons.  Because it is ridiculous that a school should have no dress code at all, I am tempted to tease that we should just adopt school uniforms?  I’d not be serious with this suggestion; I oppose this move because dress codes teach us some very important things.

I will concede that school uniforms have some advantages:

  1. Uniforms instill a sense of professionalism, imitating the business-dress of their possible futures.
  2. They eliminate the hassle of trying to find outfits that meet the dress code and are also in style.
  3. They are cheaper in the long run.
  4. They act as a socioeconomic equalizer.
  5. They eliminate dress codes, that can, given the sexualization of women in our culture, unfairly target girls.

The main reason I am against school uniforms is that, although some learning may improve, a lot of other important things are not learned by the uniformed scholar–things pertaining to Freedom.

Let Freedom Reign

Our culture is obsessed with Freedom.

  • We celebrate it at our sporting events.
  • Our television shows explore themes surrounding freedom, often presenting negative caricatures of traditional authorities, limiters of freedom.
  • Most television talk shows take every possible freedom as an absolute good.
  • The TV news is full of stories about conflicts about freedom, and it is obvious that if you are not on the side of freedom, you are going to lose the argument.
  • In popular movies, one of the defining qualities of the bad guy is often that he/she is a suppressor of freedom.
  • Politicians can win majorities to their positions if they can ground them in Freedom.
  • Remembrance Day used to commemorate the Armistice that brought WWI to a close, but now it seems it is all about the Freedom that was won in that war.
  • Originally established to remember those who died while serving in the U.S. military, the language of Freedom dominates Memorial Day celebrations.
  • The internet, in its very form, perpetuates the values of unrestricted freedom.

It should come as no surprise that some students bristle at the idea of restricting their choice in school attire.  They have been raised in this freedom obsessed culture, bombarded with the idea that Freedom is The Ultimate.  Freedom is the standard by which we judge between good and evil.  Furthermore, starting sometime in adolescence, human beings begin the natural process of moving out from under the authority of parents.  This can lead to the natural assertion of personal freedoms against any form of authority– including that of their school.  Combine this natural adolescent impulse toward freedom with our particular cultural obsession and you ought not to be surprised when the cry “Freedom!” erupts from some junior William Wallace, especially in the spring.

I oppose school uniforms because, in order to learn how to navigate the world dominated by Freedom worship, our children need to be given freedom.  They need to have freedom to make decisions about what they wear so they can come up against the limits of freedom, for freedom can only be good if it is limited.  Without limits, it becomes a terrible and demanding deity.

What’s Wrong With Wearing A Hat?

Some students want to wear a hat to school.  We happen to be in a time where hats are an important accessory in youth culture, but hats break the dress code.  When asked to remove the hat, some ask, “What’s wrong with wearing a hat?”  There is nothing wrong with wearing a hat, but it is, sometimes, improper to wear a hat.  The reason we don’t wear hats indoors in some public places like churches, restaurants, and schools has to do with propriety.  Propriety is the quality of conforming to conventionally accepted standards of behavior or morals.  It has long been the case in our culture that hats are to be worn only outside.

Standards of propriety are relative.  They change according to place or time.  In some cultures, propriety dictates that head coverings must be worn indoors.  Ours just happens to be one in which it is traditionally expected that one removes one’s hat when entering a building.  Students naturally counter this argument saying that times have changed, and I am holding on to an outdated convention–propriety has moved on.  I respond that this convention is certainly no longer part of teen sub-culture, but propriety is not dictated by teen sub-culture, but culture as a whole.  Even here it might be fading, but it is not yet gone.

There is something much more important at play within the dress code’s prohibition on hats.  It is that we are holding ourselves to an external standard.  The specific standard is not as important as the idea that such communal standards exist.  They exist, and they put limits on some personal freedoms, (a heretical move in our cultural context).

The “no-hat rule” is particularly effective in teaching middle and lower high school students the vital lesson that some personal freedoms are subordinate to community standards.  This norm runs contrary to the teen sub-culture.  Propriety cannot be meaningfully taught where there is no tension between student sub-culture and the culture at large.  If we were to restrict only coon-skin caps and platform shoes, the important lessons of propriety would remain unlearned.  Propriety is about submission to something bigger than oneself.  This is difficult for some adolescents who can’t conceive of anything more important than themselves. The cultural worship of Freedom exacerbates this attitude.  Conveniently, those that most need to learn the principles of propriety identify themselves by bucking most violently against the conventions of propriety.

These students point out that some adults, too, wear hats indoors.  Yes, there are some adults who, working outside all day, neglect to take their hat off when they come indoors.  This is not the same thing as donning a hat for a day indoors.  Other adults wear hats because they have not outgrown adolescent rebellion and/or believe that personal Freedom is ultimate.  These are not a justification for students wearing hats; they are, rather, representative of the very idea we are trying to counter.  In the case of adults sporting caps indoors, it is appropriate to be gracious, but this is not a luxury we can extend to our students.  We cannot turn a blind eye, for we bear the responsibility to move our students through adolescence and to challenge the supremacy of personal freedom.

You can tell students things, and they might learn a little.  You can show them something, and they will learn a little better.  Students learn even better when they teach something. And better still if they do something.  But they will learn best of all if they do something with regularity.  In the morning ritual of getting dressed for school, students practice the idea that there are some things that are more important than personal freedom.  They practice submitting to an authority external to the self.

We want students to grow into adults who understand that personal freedom is a good thing, but not The Ultimate Thing.  Without a dress code, students are in danger of graduating with the idea that freedom is God.  The lessons inherent in the dress code, not just the no-hat-rule, if learned well will lead to their flourishing, and that of society as well.  A school with uniforms does not have the opportunity to teach this important lesson.

Most students have no problem with the dress code, and for those who do, the disagreement  is usually the typical adolescent desire for personal freedom.  By the time most students reach their last year of high school, they have little issue with the school’s limits on clothing freedoms.  Perhaps this is because they have grown up a little, and no longer need to define themselves against authority figures, but it might also be a result of daily practice making decisions that balance personal freedom and social responsibility.

 

League of Legends versus Dota 2

League of Legends versus Dota 2 (Image from Cloth 5)

I play computer games.  Every Friday night at around 10:30, I connect through my gamer headset with the same group of guys.  Twice a year we gather for what is known as a LAN party.  We’ve been doing this for so long, I think it might be possible that our group invented LAN parties.  I’ve known some of these guys for 40 years, one (my brother) even longer.

My non-gamer readers can stop here, this will be irrelevant for anyone who doesn’t play computer games.

Over the years we’ve played many different games.  Some stuck around for years.  These included Doom, Age of Empires, Counter-Strike, most of the Call of Duty series, and League of Legends (League or LoL).

About 5 years ago, DotA 2 (Dota) showed up on our radar.  It is very similar to League.  My brother was working at Valve, the company that makes the game, and he was very eager to have us play some Dota on Friday nights.  Because he was my brother, I played without complaint, but I didn’t like Dota very much. It was frustrating.  I liked League way better.  It was simpler and more familiar.  Why mess with a good thing?

My attitude about League and Dota has changed in the last year.  Not everyone in our Friday night group feels the same way.  Lately, on most Fridays, we play a game of each, but we’ve rarely played a game of Dota without verbal complaints identical to my silent ones of a year ago.  The purpose of this post it to articulate why I now like Dota 2 better than League of Legends.

It’s not that one game is inherently better than the other.  It is simply that each is designed to offer a different gaming experience.  In a nutshell, League of Legends is more about the timing and execution of the skill shot.  The skill shot—the mechanics are designed to serve it, items are designed to enhance it, combos are built around it, and mana pools are deep to feed it.   Aggression and mechanical skills are rewarded in League.

I’m not sure if it’s my fingers or my brain, probably both, but have never been very good with timing and precision.  All games require them, but in some, but don’t have the same emphasis on speed and accuracy.  A long time ago I came to realize that I like games that create unique narratives.  I like baseball better than basketball for this reason.  Age of Mythology better than Rocket League.  I enjoy the Search and Destroy mode in COD 2 much better than Team Death Match because, win or lose, I enjoy the story is created.

I like Dota 2 better than League of Legends because the former creates a better story.

Here are 4 ways I think Dota creates a richer narrative:

Heroes/Champions: In League of Legends, there are five main roles.  ADC, support, mid, top, and jungler.  Although some Champions blur the boundaries between them, these roles are fairly rigid.  The descriptors of the main roles in Dota 2 are carry, disabler, initiator, jungler, support, durable, nuker, pusher and escape.  Each of the five Dota heroes in a particular game has a different combination of several of these qualities in different proportions.  The effect is that there is a lot of flexibility in how and where a hero is played.  Carries, for instance, can be found in any, and even all lanes. Roles aren’t set in stone—there is no ADC (that always goes bot and is always accompanied by a support) for instance.  In Dota you can have a tri-lane; I’ve played two such games this week.  There’s no need to have a hero dedicated to jungling.  Supports in Dota, depending on the specific hero, have much they can do.  They lane block and deny.  They can push or stack camps for gold-hungry carries and pull creeps to neutral camps in order to maintain an advantageous lane equilibrium.   They can be the first to rotate to other lanes that need support.  They can be aggressors and are often initiators in fights and bring game-changing abilities in team fights.

Another element adding flexibility to Dota 2 heroes are talents.  At every fifth level, a player can choose between two traits, unique to each hero on the talent tree.   This means that the character of Abaddon in this game can be different than that of Abaddon in the last game.

In Dota, hero identity, lane assignments and roles are fluid.  All this to say that the individual hero identities and roles are fluid and adaptive, making each game unique from the starting horn.

Items: Item selection further increase the uniqueness of a Dota hero and therefore builds more unique narratives. Each hero has a different set core items making each significantly different than any other hero.  But that’s not all; the situational items can take a hero is very different directions. A support hero can become more of a carry if circumstances warrant.

In League, builds don’t create as much of this differentiation—there is also a lot of similarity in builds within particular roles.  Most ADCs, for instance, buy the same items as the other ADCs.  The items in League tend to focus a character even deeper into their role.  This is not a bad thing.  It’s a deliberate part of League’s design.  Items are meant to increase the power of abilities.

In Dota we find different priorities.  Items take a hero in different directions.  Items can enhance strengths or reduce weaknesses, and they do so in the context of the game/story.  They are used to counter abilities or items on the other team, or to a shift to a new team strategy.  Consequently, it is not possible to “complete your build” in Dota 2.  The story keeps shifting even late in long games.  There is always another item to purchase to help you given the particular story/game in which you find yourself.

Game Play:  In League, with its emphasis on skill shots, commands to move, attack, or spell-cast happen very quickly—you can move, shoot, slash or cast in any direction instantaneously.   Dota has longer animations; the heroes need to turn before they can move or shoot in a new direction.

Again, League is about the skills, so the instantaneous use of these skills is the priority.  To this end, League has large mana pools.  Dota has more inately powerful abilities, but they cost you a lot more in mana to use them.  Consequently, they have to be used more sparingly.  Both the more powerful abilities and the inability to spam them, contribute to the narrative.

Team Fights in League are short and fast-paced.  In Dota there are more of fights, they are longer and they can have various phases.  In Dota there are more buttons to push, but many of the abilities and items are more forgiving with timing and mechanical skill.   There is more time to see the effect of each successful cast or item used. All this combines to enhance the narrative quality of team fights.

In Dota, more expensive items are less effective in relation to how much gold it cost you to get them.  In League, the opposite is true; the more expensive the item, the more efficient it is in relation to the gold spent.  This leads often leads to one team “rolling” the other team because of significantly higher networth.  Teams can’t come back as easily.  Hence the surrender option—why continue if the ending is obvious.  In Dota, there are ways to of dealing with a gold deficiency or an over-fed carry on the other team.  Comebacks are much more likely and comebacks make for great narratives.   This is why there is not surrender option.

In Dota there are more fights because of teleport scrolls.  Teleport scrolls are also one of the reasons why Dota 2 is more of a team game.  Smoke which makes invisible all heroes in a certain proximity is one of many items that involve the entire team and is used in a coordinated team action.

Dota games tends to be, longer consequently, the victory is sweeter and the defeat more bitter—comedy or tragedy.  Either way, the story is better.

Complexity: Much of the frustration that new players experience in Dota 2 is a direct result its complexity.  This is particularly true of those who have played a significant amount of League of Legends which is more streamlined around skill shots and mechanical skills.  The complexity of Dota arises from heroes and items, but the complexity does not end there.

The League recall takes you back to base.  The Dota teleport scrolls take you to the base and to any tower or fountain.  Further, in League you can select teleport as a summoner spell before the match starts; if you didn’t buy it, you can’t get it, but in Dota, any hero can buy boots of travel if conditions merit.

In Dota, trees can be destroyed through various means so as to improve the vision of wards.

Healing can be done at fountains.

In Dota 2 we have the courier to deliver items, and they can be killed.

There is denying creeps or towers.  You can buy limited items in lane shops and other items exclusively in secret shops.  There are buy-backs, stacking and pulling.  There is the day/night cycle and high-ground mechanics—more complexity.  I could go on, but you get the idea.

Some people don’t like this complexity.  Those who are new to MOBAs might prefer the relative simplicity of League.  I know from first-hand experience that those who have played a lot of League will find these elements frustrating.

I eventually overcame my frustration with Dota because I got used some aspects of this complexity, although I still have much to learn.  I began to understand that the differences weren’t just pointlessly complicated ways of doing a simple task, but elements that made every Dota game unique—I realized that the flexibility and complexity contribute to the narrative quality of Dota 2.

It is truly pointless to argue that one of these games in inherently superior to the other.  If your first MOBA was League of Legends, the only problem with Dota 2 is that it’s not League of Legends, and vice versa.  If players give each game the necessary time to truly understand the relative merits of each, some will naturally like League’s more streamline skill-oriented play.  Others will like the complexity and flexibility of the narrative that Dota provides.

I happen to be one of the latter.

 

 

Was Paul a Jihadist?

 

I heard it a second time, “The apostle Paul was a jihadist.”  He wasn’t really though, was he?

Before his conversion, Paul, then called Saul, persecuted Christians.  In his own words, he says that he

persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it. I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age among my people and was extremely zealous for the traditions of my fathers. Galatians 1:13–14

Does this make him a jihadist?  Does the term mean anyone who persecutes Christians?  Or maybe those who do so for religious reasons?

In Arabic, the term means struggle.  It might mean a struggle for a better Muslim society or a war defending the faith against unbelievers.

If we used the term correctly, I suppose we could say that Paul was as much a jihadist after his conversion, as he struggled to spread the Christian faith, as before it, in the defense of the Jewish one.

One of two conditions must be met in order to apply the term jihadist to anyone.  First, the person must be a jihadist.  Paul, a first century Jew can no more be a jihadist that Nero could be a Nazi.  In researching for this post, I discovered that most Muslims don’t use the term jihadist to describe the radical, violent Islamist.  Instead, they use a term similar to the word “deviant.”  If this is the case, it would be inappropriate for Christians to use the term for a first century Jew who was persecuting the Christian faith.  The second condition, you need to be an Arab speaking to Arabs–this way everyone knows what you mean.

If one of these two conditions are not met, then we end up using the term like Western politicians and media: generally and sensationally, to evoke fear and anger, to create unity through demonization.

I get it, we want to make the point that Paul was a really, really bad dude.  But what’s wrong with simply saying he “persecuted the church of God and tried to destroy it”?

If we are to be a light to the nations, it is really important for Christians to use language responsibly and to communicate with integrity.

12 Keys to Writing a Great Exam Composition

The view of an exam composition marker

Of course you want the highest mark possible on your exam composition.

I’ve been marking the BC English 12 provincial exam for many years—more than 20, I think.  I just finished marking the composition for this year’s exam and I decided to write about it while my thoughts are still fresh.

The best way to get a 6 out of 6 on your composition on the English 12 exam is to be an excellent writer.  Not everyone is an excellent writer. But there is much an average writer can do to give them a chance to earn the highest score of which they are capable.

Here are what I consider the 10 most important things to keep in mind when writing Part D: The Composition.

1. It’s all about conflict.

Don’t start your narrative with the alarm clock ringing. This is a very short composition, you don’t have time to lollygag–don’t write about life, write about conflict!

2. Don’t be like everyone else!

Markers read a lot of compositions—well over 700 per day. All have been written by English 12 students and are based on the same prompt. This can lead to a lot of “sameness”—same diction, same topics, same perspective, same approach, same structure.   It feels like you are reading the same five essays, hour after hour, day after day.

It stands to reason, then, if you can write an exam composition that is not like all others, yours will stand out. Most of my 10 keys are about how to make your composition stand out, in a good way.

3. Go with your fifth idea.

If the composition prompt is, “Beauty can be found in simple things,” do not write about smiles, snowflakes, kittens, rainbows or babies.  Everyone is writing about these things because they are the first things that pop into their minds. The solution is, don’t write about the first thing that pops into your mind—or the second. Get down your list.  When you get to oatmeal, socks or the word “and”–you have arrived.  I’m excited just thinking about an essay about the word “and.”

When the prompt was, “Surprises can make life more interesting” – over 90% were about surprise birthday parties.  Because of the lack of surprises when they opened the exam book, markers were ready to jump off the buildings by the middle of the first afternoon.

Oh, and don’t think that you are original if you argue that surprises don’t make life more interesting—negation of the prompt is not clever, it’s cliché.  Speaking of clichés . . . 

4. Don’t use clichés.

No matter what the prompt is, markers can always count on frequent encounters with all of the following:

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”
“Life can throw you a curveball . . .”
“Life is a rollercoaster full of ups and downs.”
“Life can hit you like a tonne of bricks.”
“Life is like a box of chocolates . . . .” This one always includes the appropriate textual or parenthetical citation.

By using clichés, you are screaming to your reader that you are an average writer, at best.  And you may be an average writer, there is nothing wrong with that, but there is no sense advertising it.  And who knows, if you are deliberate about not using clichés, you just might infuse a bit of freshness that gives your exam composition a boost.

5. Don’t write about death.

It feels like at least a third of the compositions are about death. As markers, we are forced to vicariously experience the death of every family member in every possible combination from every possible disease. Then there are the accidents, usually car accidents. These often involve drunk driving and the loss of a best friend or lover.  Markers don’t like death essays, not because it makes the process too difficult emotionally.  Quite the opposite, in fact.

I am pretty sure that many English 12 teachers encourage their students to write a composition that is “emotionally engaging.”  This is not bad advice, but when students hear the words “emotionally engaging” they instantly settle on the death of a loved one, because they can think of nothing else that produces stronger emotions than the death of a loved one.

This is probably true, but most high school students lack the skill to sensitively deal with topics like death.  Consequently, these “death essays” become cliché, which is the opposite effect you are trying to achieve.  Save writing about death for when you are a more experienced writer, and you have longer than an hour and a 600-word limit.

6. Don’t preach.

Nobody wants to be preached at.  This is a “stance” issue.  Readers don’t like to be talked down to.  As a marker, I’ve been preached to about recycling and about how I should be Christian, and about why all religions are dumb.  I’ve been told repeatedly that I need to be tolerant.  I’m sick of lectures instructing me how to face the hardships of life and how I should respect the elderly.  I now know what I should think about every issue imaginable.

You can still write about these things but take a different stance—write about when you discovered the importance of recycling.  Or how faith adds meaning to your life.  Write about a difficulty that you experienced and what you learned from it.  See the difference? Rather than tell me what I should do and learn, talk about what you did and what you learned.

7.  Have a strong first paragraph.

Many first paragraphs read like the students are warming up for the real task of writing the essay. They throw down their first thoughts on the subject searching for the point from which they can push off into the first paragraph of their composition. The warm-up or the search for a point of departure should happen someplace else. Write for a few minutes on a piece of scrap paper till you find your direction, then carefully craft the first paragraph to set up what is to come. The reader makes all sorts of judgments from the first lines of your composition; first impressions are powerful—make a good first impression.

I have found that many student compositions benefit from simply drawing a line through the first paragraph.

I’ve read compositions that use “the word” five times in the introduction.  If the prompt tells you to write about beauty or surprises, challenges, maturity, change, dreams or relationships, consider not using that word in the essay at all. Or if you do use “the word,” use it in the last line of the composition.   As with all creative writing, it is better to show than to tell.

8. Be Specific.

Generalities are boring.

This is true for everything you write be it an email, an essay or a narrative. Don’t say, “We went out for my favourite meal,” say, “We went out for chicken wings and Shirley Temples.” Don’t write, “My boyfriend pulled his car into the driveway”; have him pull up “in the family mini-van” or “his red convertible,” or his “1978 windowless van with the words ‘Refer Madness’ airbrushed on the side.”  Specifics make a difference.  If you don’t believe me, ask your father.

9. Don’t write a “5 paragraph essay.”

First of all, by the time you are in grade 12 you should never write a 5 paragraph essay (although there is nothing wrong with an essay of five paragraphs). The body of a 5 paragraph essay consists of 3 examples from your life that show the prompt to be true.

So if the topic is something like “Certain situations lead to maturity,” don’t write an essay in which you briefly and superficially discuss three of the following:

  • entry into kindergarten,
  • the magic of puberty,
  • your parents’ divorce,
  • a torn ACL,
  • getting a driver’s license,
  • your first job,
  • or first kiss,
  • the death of a loved one,
  • or moving to, or within, Canada.

Pick one of these (except the death of a loved one) and meaningfully explore the factors and forces that contributed to your maturation.

You understand, of course, that by adding or dropping a paragraph to the essay I’ve just described does not fix the problem.

10. Punctuation, spelling and capitalization, etc.

There’s no avoiding the fact that the mechanics of writing are important. The good news is that all of the writing on the exam is marked as a first draft, so if you misspell the odd word, or miss a comma or two, your mark will not go down.

So it doesn’t matter if I don’t know the difference between “then” and “than”?  Or “there,” “their” and “they’re”?

Technically no, but no upper-level writer will ever confuse these words.  So by confusing them, you are proclaiming, loudly, that you are not an upper-level writer.

Work hard to understand basic usage and punctuation rules.

As for spelling, two words that, for some reason, come up again and again in the composition essays are obstacle and opportunity. For years I’ve been telling my students to make sure they can spell these two words correctly—because “obsticle” and “oppertunity” scream out that you may not be a competent writer.

11. Be yourself.

You are not a 47-year-old drug addict living in Detroit.

You are not a soldier storming the beaches of Normandy.

You are not a mother deer concerned about your fawn.

Like death, this sort of writing requires a maturity of thought and style that most young writers don’t have.

The thing is, you are the preeminent expert on one subject–YOU.  You know things about this topic that no one else does.  Play to your strengths.  Human beings, even markers, respond to stories–good stories, well told.  I recommend that you walk into your exam with three stories, true stories.  If it’s a true story, you can draw from an actual setting with actual characters doing actual things (and you can embellish a little).  And don’t just tell me what happened, tell me what you thought and felt as well.  But go even further–What did this event mean?  How did it change you?  You may never have thought about it, but think about it now.  This type of essay is generally called a personal narrative.  It involves a true story and some reflection about what the story means.  Consider practicing these three stories beforehand.  Then, when you see the prompt, adapt one of them to fit.  Or write a brand new one if you are so inspired.

So, for these reasons, I strongly recommend you write a personal narrative for your exam composition.

12. “In Conclusion”

Don’t end the last paragraph of your exam composition with the words, “in conclusion.”

In conclusion, I must tell you that I’ve read papers that have ignored half of my 10 keys to writing a great composition and they still earned a 6 out of 6.  They did so because the authors are great writers, but these 10 keys will give you your best chance at earning the highest mark of which you are capable.

I hope you read this post long before you take your exam–years preferably–because all of these things take practice.  Good luck, and I look forward to reading your Composition.

Is there any other advice you give your students?

What else has your teacher suggested for writing the composition?

Truth is a Fad

On a recent trip to downtown Vancouver, my wife and I popped into Christ Church Cathedral on the corner of Georgia and Burrard.  I find it hard to resist a cathedral and always try the doors to see if I can get a look inside.  The door was unlocked and a pleasant woman offered to answer our questions.  I asked about the beautiful interior and she was delighted to tell us about the recent renovations.  There was even a photo album.

The original church was filled with local cedar, but in a previous renovation, the original wood had been covered.  The red cedar ceiling had been covered by fiber-board.  It was the same story with the floor.  With this new renovation, the foul fiber-board and hideous carpeting had been removed and the original red and yellow cedar, covered up for decades is once again gracing parishioners and visitors with its beauty.

Why had the natural wood of the ceiling and floor been covered in the previous renovation?  It seems preposterous that anyone could think that fiber-board and carpeting were an improvement on the natural cedar, but they apparently did.

Changing Fashions, Changing Ideas

This got me thinking about change, more specifically, changing tastes.  It’s a truism that fashions change, but they don’t just change; they change radically–what is all the rage in one time, is hideous and vile in another age.  This is true whether we are talking about clothing, church interiors or ideas.

The second truism is that we are completely aware of the first truism.  We are somehow convinced that the way we think at the present moment is, at long last, the end of changing “truth”–with today’s thinking, we have arrived.

Previous generations had it wrong, but we have figured it out.  As dumb as it seems now, there was a time when it was generally thought that wood ought to be covered by synthetic materials, and in fifty years the congregation will likely vote to cover the wood with synthetic polar bear fur.  So goes fashion.  So also go our ideas.

The Fashion of Truth

I look at some of the ideas that are spreading throughout culture, replacing the old ones, and I think they are beautiful changes.  Others are more like ghastly fiberboard and anemic pink carpeting obscuring beautiful red and yellow cedar.   And we take these new ways of thinking as absolute truth.  Consequently, in our conversations and disagreements, we condemn those with whom we disagree as bigots and freaks and ogres.  Given that our most recent truth is just a phase, perhaps we ought to be a little less certain about everything–a little less venomous.

In our conversations and disagreements we must remember that the way we think today, is a fad. Consequently, we ought to be a little less certain about everything--a little less venomous.

Doomed to Relativism?

I believe that there is something under the intellectual fads and whims of our culture that never changes.  Core ideas like courage is better than cowardice and it’s evil to harm a child for one’s own pleasure and the ocean is sublime.

Just because it’s new and in fashion, doesn’t mean it’s objectively true.  I say objectively because, although I’m not entirely sure which ideas are cedar and which are fiber-board, I firmly believe that there is an objective truth.  We will continue down our slide of subjectivism for a time, we will continue to believe that we create our own reality, but I hope at some point we will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking.  And rip up the pasty carpet to expose the rich wood beneath.

We will continue down our slide of subjectivism for a time, but at some point, we will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking.

Are students prepared for university?

Education has changed.  I’m teaching differently.  Student’s are learning differently.

How well do the new approaches to learning and teaching prepare students for university?

Back in the Day

When I first started teaching Literature 12 there were provincial exams.  These were content focussed.  One of the purposes of the exam was to ensure students were prepared for the rigors of university.  There was a prescribed reading list of over 40 literary works from the literary canon extending from Beowulf to a poem by Margaret Atwood.  Students were also required to understand over 100 literary terms and devices.  Back in those days, I did a lot of talking and students took copious notes.  Given that the exam scores would be used to rank students against other students, schools against other schools, teachers against other teachers, exam performance mattered a great deal on many levels.  So we worked very hard on exam preparation.  Students created very detailed study sheets on each of the literary works on the prescribed reading list.  These were collated into large packets and students spent hours reviewing this material.  At the end of the process, they knew a lot, and my students generally did very well on the Provincial English Literature exam.

“Nowadays”

I still teach Lit 12, but I do so very differently.  My class looks much more like a graduate seminar than a lecture hall.  Students discuss and unpack the literary works, rather than listen to me tell them what they would notice if they were as smart as I was.  Through this dialogue, students analyze, synthesize, evaluate, propose, inquire, challenge, concede, admire and they connect the ideas they encounter to life and society.  After we talk, we write.  They use their laptops for this task.  Sometimes they journal, other times they write an academic essay or a personal narrative; we mix it up.  My assessment has changed as well.  We no longer end the year with an exam.  We end the year with presentations–students explore a topic of their choice making connections literature, often beyond the material we worked over the course of the semester.

Are students today as knowledgeable as in the days of yore?

Last year, I dusted off an old provincial exam, one of the same exams for which I used to work so hard to prepare my students.  We didn’t review the material in class–students didn’t create review sheets for each other, and they didn’t study for it.  I passed it out one day and they wrote it.  I used to mark the Literature 12 exam, so the marks students got on this test were valid.  I was surprised that their scores were significantly higher than those of students of similar ability from 2 decades ago.  I realize this observation is anecdotal and does not meet the standards of a proper study, but I am convinced of the results.  My students know the literature better now than they did when learning was primarily focussed on content rather than projects and discussions.  With the new approach to learning, students are performing better on exams designed to measure university preparedness.

The beauty is, they don’t just know the content–they have a much broader and deeper understanding of the literature than they used to.   They can talk about it and bring it into dialogue with other artistic expressions and with life and society.  They are better readers and thinkers and moviegoers.  Almost all are reporting great success in university classes.

But not all reports are positive.  One of my students excitedly entered her Literature course at the local university this fall, and dropped it after only a few classes.  It was clear to her that, in this particular university class, the study of her favourite high school subject would involve transferring what she heard in a lecture onto an exam paper at the end of the term.  There is no doubt in my mind that she could have passed this course with an A.  Many of my less gifted students frequently do.

Do modern instructional techniques prepare students for university?

My little experiments shows that if students are expected to know the material well, then they are prepared for university.  If their university courses will expect them to be able to analyze and synthesize information and concepts, they are ready.  If they are expected to evaluate ideas; to challenge assumptions and be able to recognize a strong argument and concede, they are ready.  If they are expected to communicate clearly and effectively, both verbally and in various written forms, they are ready and very well prepared for university.

If students are expected to passively listen to a professor talk for hours, collecting information that will be transferred onto an examination paper, then students are ill-prepared for university.
If, on the other hand, they are expected to passively listen to a professor talk for hours, collecting information and transfer this information onto an examination paper at the end of the term, then perhaps my students are ill-prepared for university.

Does anyone really want me to change my approach to teaching literature?

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