Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Slight Attitude Adjustment

At some point during the second tutorial of my Open University course, I began to see a bit of the other side of education to the one that always annoys me. This is, I think, a good thing if I am to continue.

The second tutorial felt like much better value than the first, and we packed a lot of useful work into it. Almost the most important for me was the chance to talk to someone higher up the tutorial structure, who was sitting in, about where to go from this existing course, and how far my past qualifications will take me without covering the same ground again. I suspect I wasn't the only one who felt that the first tutorial lacked something, as only six people turned up for this one. But we were the winners, in my opinion.

It has always seemed to me that formal education puts a higher premium on conventional thinking than it does on useful knowledge. And I have chafed against that, because I would always want to cover ground that appears "old" as quickly as possible in the hopes that the cutting edge of the subject studied is where the action is. Even after my little flash of enlightenment I can't quite escape the suspicion that most higher education imparts its benefits at the cost of a freshness of view that can be a very valuable asset. Many things, once forced into a container of convention, not only lose their zing but also a percentage of their range of possibilities, put beyond reach by being off the beaten track of established thought patterns.

But what occurred to me while talking about the subject matter I am currently studying was that the few people who manage to acquire the conventions while also preserving their own originality do gain something very precious. And that is the gift of communication. Originality and freshness is undoubtedly valuable, but its utility is limited without the means to share it. Being able to work within an established mode of thought and language puts large amounts of the subject onto a routine basis, so that exchange of thought is efficient - and the new thoughts quickly reveal their worth or faults to the community.

Of course, it all runs the risk of becoming fossilised, just jargon and repetition, but I think I see why it's worth the risk now. I know several people who are naturally gifted musicians and have a suspicion of music theory (including printed music) that is similar to my dislike of formal study. They think that it would stunt something that they have naturally, and aren't sure the benefits are sufficient compensation. Yet I know at least one who was pushed through the process of learning music theory by a teacher who refused to accept that as an excuse, and the combination of natural talent and proper training puts him some way ahead of those who have chosen to hang back. Because something MIGHT curb spontaneity doesn't mean it WILL curb it.

I suppose those who tear themselves free of the rigidities of brethren thought tend to head one of two ways: either continued wariness of any systems of thought at all that might impinge on the hard-won freedom inside the head, or refuge in some kind of replacement, that might or might not be a better system but at least provides external certainties. Neither, as a sole guide, can be healthy, so I am glad to be able to adjust my thinking a little bit.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Lake District Holiday

Last week was an enjoyable one: we spent three and a bit days in the Lake District. We seized on a bargain hotel offer just outside the National Park a little while ago, and the time itself came around remarkably fast. In the end it was beautifully timed, too - between some quite large events and in perfect weather conditions.

Cumbria is renowned for being a little inclement weatherwise at the best of times, and mid-March is not that time. It is a lovely place, however, so we weren't worried. In the event, though, we had glorious sun most of the time, and no crowds and no restrictions. All the restrictions, according to the signs, begin on Good Friday. So it was a good time.

It did make me think, though, about how new and different it was to able to do something like this. We had time, no deadlines, and no obligations. Brethren days out to natural places are not exactly discouraged, although it is generally assumed that people who are really spiritual wouldn't want to spend their time viewing such Earthly pleasures. However, as the requirements to attend meetings daily and stay only with other brethren trump almost all other activities (there are some exceptions to do with life-or-death brethren-management necessities and business trips), the best way for brethren to see natural wonders is to become good friends with someone who lives near some such natural wonder. And hope for an invitation to stay overnight on a convenient public holiday. As such, brethren viewing of such things tends to start at an unfeasibly early hour, and happen at a rapid pace with high efficiency.

This was not like that.

Oddly, some brethren friends (I do still have some), saw my car outside the hotel one evening, and left a "best wishes" note on the windscreen, which was weird. And I just knew that they would be feeling sorry for me, stuck in a hotel room and free to do as I pleased in comfort and privacy, when I could have been making small talk at some brethren host with nothing in common with me, and handing over the obligatory bottle of spirits instead of paying a small fee for my night's accommodation. It's a hard life. Seriously, I don't think they could stretch themselves to imagine that a room with no strings can be enjoyable.

I haven't described any lakes, mountains, quaint towns, wildlife, etc, but I think it's enough to say that holidays are good things, and brethren should try them sometime.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The Invisible Divide

I may have commented on this before, but I find I have two thinking modes: "brethren" and "non-brethren". The former doesn't get as much use as it once did (thankfully), but in certain circumstances it pops up effortlessly.

What is MUCH harder is attempting to use both modes at once, and somehow forcing brethren thoughts into a non-brethren framework - as is necessary to be able to explain them. There really is some kind of barrier which makes it a major challenge. I thought I'd cracked it when I started this blog, which was one reason it was so exhilarating to begin with, but it gets more difficult, if anything, as time goes on.

So how difficult is it for total outsiders? Very, I should think, although I don't agree with the ex-brethren who so stoutly maintain that nobody else can ever understand.

It struck me this week, for instance, how Orwellian brethren language can be. They can use a phrase and understand it, and non-brethren would imagine they understand it too without question ... and yet through brethren use that phrase has acquired a meaning that an outsider doesn't share and doesn't know they don't. It isn't deliberate, so far as I know, but simply that brethren customs change and the terms used to refer to them don't - however, it does please them to be obscure and they like the fact that other people know less than they think they do as a result.

Case in point: "reading", which is modified for outsiders to its old form of "bible reading". In a literal sense this is not misleading, as such meetings start with a passage of scripture. But to anybody versed in Christian customs, the term comes loaded with a set of assumptions such as textural analysis, study, search for meaning and collective focus on a sacred text. A reading among the brethren is simply a discussion around a theme that is on one man's mind with, by convention, one or more passages from the bible loosely attached. Generally speaking, that convention is all that is left of the original meaning of the term "reading".

That's the tip of a fairly sizeable iceberg, too, because you might suppose that religion in general is extremely important to these people. Well, it is and it isn't. Surely, you might say, any system which makes such extreme demands (I'm thinking of the likes of separation) must put a massive premium on the belief system underpinning it? Wouldn't everybody in such a system spend a lot of energy studying those beliefs, delving into the mind of God in whatever way they can? If you ask the brethren, the answer is "yes", and they think so. But for them, religion and practical life are the same thing.

For brethren, theology is done. Finished. They had it all figured out by the nineteen-fifties. Anybody attempting to get any further is wasting their time and probably heretical - and, as all past knowledge is summed up in the top man of the time, the only necessary thing to do is absorb what he says. The duty of the Christian is perfect his or her life on Earth, and the focus of the brethren is to chip away at what they see as the rough edges of that perfection, getting closer all the time. So there is study, reading of the bible etc, naturally, but it is done because of instruction, because they have been told that that is what a perfect life involves. What comes of it is secondary. It is, if anything, more important to dress correctly, because that is as much a part of a perfect life and is visible to others as well.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that for brethren religion is what you do. Belief is implied by action: if you're doing the right thing, it shows you believe, and if you aren't it shows you don't. And in all cases there is only one right thing to do. In that case, it's no wonder their time, their meetings, their energy, is spent on refining the rules. Outsiders look at what passes for ministry and wonder where the religion is, but brethren honestly don't see it that way. Traditional Christian activities seem to them to be missing the point. Knowledge that makes no difference to the way a life is lived is valueless.

They would also be mystified by accusations that the rules keep changing, for much the same reason. The rules must change, because otherwise there would be no forward movement. If things were perfect, they reason, they would have been called away to glory. So they must pursue that perfection and change things as better ways are revealed to them.

It's a hard viewpoint to convey, as I say, and all the harder because it comes cloaked in familiar terms whose meaning has shifted. I think it's important to keep making the effort to cross the divide in both directions, though. It can never be insignificant for non-brethren to channel what Christianity means into the closed minds of the brethren, because you never know who might be ready for an alternative view. And I find it useful to explain to myself what my assumptions were all those years, even if it doesn't benefit many others!