Crazy Love by Francis Chan

I actually found a copy of Crazy Love by Francis Chan at one of the little neighborhood libraries around. I'm so glad I did. It's one of those, "I really need to read that book someday" kind of book. That day finally arrived!

I've loved Francis Chan for a long time, ever since watching this video. (see 13:01 "If Jesus had a church in Simi Valley, mine would be bigger.") He's like an Old Testament prophet calling us to repentance. Calling the church to repentance. He has amazing insight and he put his money where his mouth is; he gave up his church and rearranged his life to live much more intentionally as a follower of Christ. 

His book definitely challenged me. 

The title and the arrows indicate that God has a crazy love for us, and that that should foster a crazy love for Him from us. He starts off telling the church the ways in which we might be doing it wrong. We seem to have missed the essential picture of who God is as we go about our "normal" Christian lives. 

But it's the fourth chapter, "Profile of the Lukewarm" that really stopped me in my tracks. He states, 

LUKEWARM PEOPLE do not live by faith; their lives are structured so they never have to. They don't have to trust God if something unexpected happens —they have their savings account. They don't need God to help them — they have their retirement plan in place. They don't genuinely seek out what life God would have them live — they have life figured and mapped out. They don't depend on God on a daily basis— their refrigerators are full and, for the most part, they are in good health. The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God. (p. 79)

He makes it very clear that lukewarm people are not Christians. Wow! What a claim. But he defends it well. He cites Revelation 3:16, saying that God literally wants to vomit when it comes to the lukewarm. Chan also warns us against assuming we are the good soil in the parable of the sower, or even thinking that the rocky soil is not that bad. Chan says Jesus has called us to "pick up [our] cross" and His version of Christianity is not for the faint of heart. People who are not marked by the fruit of the Spirit, are not Christians; they are deceived. 

He then moves onto the devastating 1 John 2:3-4: "We know that we have come to know him if we obey his commands. The man who says, 'I know him,' but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him." Holy cow! How many of us claim the title of "Christian," but commit frivolous sins thinking, "It's no big deal." If so, we make Christ's death by torture "no big deal." Obviously I must turn the mirror on myself here, but I couldn't help thinking of my students. So many of them cheat and it's no big deal to them. They make zero connection between professing Christ and using AI to write a paper. But Scripture says that student "is a liar, and the truth is not in him." He is NOT a Christian! Another bold and frightening claim. Ouch!

Finally, Chan reminds us that 

21 “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. 22 Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ 23 And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’ (Matt. 7:21-23)

Who is this talking to if not those who call themselves Christians, but are not?!?  I definitely want to address all of this when I talk to my students about cheating. I think they will be shocked. 

Chan then describes the ways in which genuine Christians live: they are "obsessed." This means, they "love those who hate them and who can never love them back." (p. 130) They "care more about God's kingdom coming to this earth than their own lives being shielded from pain or distress." (p. 131) They "live lives that connect them with the poor in some way or another" believing it was "really important to" Jesus. (p. 133 They "will do things that don't always make sense in therms of success or wealth on this earth." (p. 134) They "know that you can never be humble enough." (p. 136) They "take joy in loving God by loving His people." (p. 136) They "genuinely think that others matter as much as they do." (p. 1328) They "orient their lives around eternity." (p. 139) They are "characterized by committed, settled, passionate love for God, and above and before every other thing and every other being." (p. 140) They "do not attempt to mask the ugliness of their sins or their failures." (p. 141 They "are nourished by God's Word throughout the day." (p. 142 They "know that true joy doesn't depend on circumstances or environment; it is a gift that must be chosen and cultivated, a gift that ultimately comes from God." (p. 143) The revel "in [their] role as child and friend of God." (p. 144)

He finishes up with stories of saints living the committed life. He asks us to pray and seek discernment for what exactly God is asking of us (not necessarily "calling"). Then we must respond or it's all for naught. He gives an update of the ways he is personally living this out. (He left his megachurch to become a missionary to the outcasts of San Francisco.) 

Finally, he discusses some resources he is developing to help Christians fulfill the Great Commission and make disciples: multiplymovement.com. I'll have to check it out! This is exciting, but sobering.

The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

I'm loosely following the Close Reads podcast, and they read this book. I'm familiar with George MacDonald, one of C.S. Lewis' inspirations, so I decided to give it a try. The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald is an adorable story I hope to read to my grandkids someday.

It's a sweet fairy tale, in the best possible sense, about a young princess growing up in the shadow of the mountains that house the Goblins. A young man, the eleven-year-old son of a miner, named Curdie, befriends her. With the help of her ancient, mystical great, great, grandmother Princess Irene grows into a true princess, battling goblins and rescuing the boy! Throughout the story, she must learn to patiently love those around her who don't believe what she believes and in the process grows in grace.

It's a delightful tale, one of the "right" kinds of books that Lewis says Eustice had not read!

A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller

Our book club made an odd choice: Non-fiction and theological. But I loved A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller. The author calls the reader to a prayer life filled with helplessness, humility, and childlike faith.

He begins by describing the relationship Jesus had with the Father. It's one of utter dependence. Despite the fact that Jesus, alone among humans, is the only person who could truly declare himself capable of living independently of God, he is the only human who has ever fully dedicated himself to live at one with the Father. We are to become "like little children," wholly trusting in and depending on the Father, moment by moment. Miller says about Jesus when he contemplated the separation he would feel on the cross, "He had never experienced a moment when he wasn't in communion with his Father. Jesus' anguish is our normal." (p. 33) This hit me hard. Do I anguish over my lack of engagement with God the way Jesus did?

Unfortunately in our modern era, we have allowed cynicism to replace trust. Even Christian will try to give their cynicism a gloss of religiosity by becoming stoic and acting as if they are fine with whatever God does, that it doesn't matter to them at all. Jesus was neither a cynic nor a stoic nor an eternal optimist. He wholeheartedly gave himself to the Father and cried out with anguish when he saw hurt and injustice. The Father wants us to come to Him aware of reality but fully trusting in Him. Miller says, "I am not called to put on rose-colored glasses and see everything in life as pretty and good and uplifting. Rather, I am called to trust that God sees what I see." (p. 72)

As children, we are to come to the Father asking "anything" in Jesus' name, that is, with his authority. That's an overwhelming promise if we truly believed it. The problem is that we don't. Again and again Jesus says that whatever we ask will be granted to us. But how does that work? Can I ask for a million dollars and expect it show up on my doorstep? Apparently not. Rather we are to have an attitude of ask in expectancy and desire, while maintaining a sense of surrender: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's "if not" faith. We desire, we ask for our deepest desires, trusting that God placed those desires in our hearts in the first place, we hope, we wait, and we accept His perfect answer. He said we can ask for the impossible, for "nothing is impossible with God." He gave as an example asking for a mountain to fall into the sea, yet we struggle to ask for renewed relationships, remarkable healing, and the resurrection of long abandoned dreams. We have not because we ask not. What a convicting truth. God wants me to come to him with my real childlike self and ask for anything. So often we think either that God doesn't care about a particular desire, or that it's too selfish or frivolous. But how do you have a relationship with someone to whom you cannot tell your heart's desire. He gives the example of a vacation home. What if, instead of worrying and saving and planning and researching and stressing about our ability to afford a vacation home, we simply told the Father that it's our desire, but that we would rest and submit to His good plan. Let Him delight to provide and "make our joy complete." What a waste to not ask, not because then we won't receive, but because when we do receive we fail to see it as a gift from Him. In all this asking, we must also ask that he change me. I must allow Him to conform me to the likeness of His Son so that my desires begin to align with His. This one scares us because He might actually do it!

But what happens when we ask and the Father is long in answering? We learn to live in the story. So often God's answer is, "Not yet." He's working, moving the pieces, waiting for the time, and so often that feels like abandonment. It's ok to feel abandoned. In fact, one of the charges against Israel was that they failed to cry out to God when they felt alone and hopeless. God wants us to come to Him in lament when we are in the midst of the story. God is not a genie for whom we snap our fingers, and He obeys our command. What kind of relationship would it be if we did not learn to wait and trust? It would not be a relationship at all. In fact, Miller says that we live in the "Desert" between "Hope" and "Reality." This is where our story is being written. If we fall into denial, or determination, or despair, we miss the story He is writing. Rather we are to turn to Him, (not complain to those around us) with our reality and then place our hope in Him. It is in the desert that we experience communion with Him as together we walk the path He has laid out. Not knowing how the story ends is the hardest part. That takes us back to that childlike trust. As we walk in the desert, we must believe "three things about God: First, God is sovereign. He can do something. Second, God is love. He is for me. He wants to do something. And finally, God is a covenant-keeping God. He is bound by his own word. He will do something." (p. 186)

I love the way Miller sums up our role:

"1. Don't demand that the story go your way. (In other words, surrender completely.)

2. Look for the Storyteller. Look for his hand, and then pray in light of what you are seeing. (In other words, develop an eye for Jesus.)

3. Stay in the story. Don't shut down when it goes the wrong way...When the story isn't going your way, ask yourself, 'What is God doing?'" (p. 205)

We are not victims in our story. We are constantly being made to die to self and trust in the Giver of Life. It is only in relationship with the Father that any of this life begins to make sense and achieve purpose. And that relationship is formed in the crux of the desert as we ask, wait, and watch. He is for us, not against us and delights to give us the desires of our hearts, while transforming both our hearts and our desire.

Beauty for Truth's Sake by Stratford Caldecott

A fellow teacher recommended Beauty for Truth's Sake by Stratford Caldecott, stating that it had a great impact upon her. Since I greatly respect her, I figured her recommendation was as good a reason as any to buy it and read it. 

I had to read it twice. 

It's very dense. Even the title, Beauty for Truth's Sake, is enigmatic. What does that even mean? Even after reading the book twice, I'm still not sure that I can explain it. 

Caldecott is making the case for re-enchanting education. He believes we went wrong when we separated Faith and Reason. 

He begins with a discussion of the trivium, grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and the quadrivium, arithmetic, music, geometry, and astronomy, which together compose the seven liberal arts. As understood by the ancients, it was the study of these things that would lead a student to the ultimate good, which was the study of God. In this world, faith and reason worked together to free the student up for that most good, true, and beautiful. "The assumption of this system of education was that by learning to understand the harmonies of the cosmos, our minds would be raised toward God, in whom we could find the unity from which all these harmonies derive: Dante's 'love that moves the sun and the other stars.'" (53) But western civilization long ago lost the connection between faith and reason and so God and the study of theology became worthless pursuits. 

By losing sight of the purpose of education according to Plato, we have lost sight of our very humanity. Plato describes the power of learning on the soul: "the instrument of knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming to that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being and of the brightest and best of being, or in other words, of the good." (22) Knowledge, then, is its own end. It is be valued because it leads us to beauty. And truth resides in beauty. John Newman states, "I have said that all branches of knowledge are connected together, because the subject matter of knowledge is intimately united in itself as being the acts and work of the Creator." (29) True beauty is the harmony found in the universe. To miss or denigrate beauty is to lose both truth and goodness as well. And all beauty is found in acknowledging the Creator.

Caldecott then discusses the poetic imagination and our need to awaken it. This means understanding how the medievals saw at the world. Theirs was a cosmos infused with divine symbolism. "Everything that exists, in whatever mode, having its principle in the Divine Intellect, translates or represents that principle in its own manner according to its own order of existence; and thus, from one order to another, all things are linked and correspond with each other so that they join together in a universal and total harmony which is like a reflection of the Divine Unity itself." (48) It was this elimination of the symbolic and poetic understanding that caused the great divorce between science and religion and art from science.

The author then goes onto discuss how the ancients imbued that first of the quadrivium, arithmetic and numbers, with symbolism. He starts with mathematics and shows how numbers pointed the mind of man to God. It begins with 1 - the ultimate symbol of unity that exists in God, himself. Then 2, which clearly delineates the symbiosis of the Father and the Son. But it is 3 that completes the picture of the Trinity and the love that flows between Father and Son. Caldecott spends quite a bit of time on more number symbolism, including the "golden ratio," and the ways the medieval world used number theory to point the people to the truth of God. 

From arithmetic, he moves to the next topic of the quadrivium, geometry. Specifically he shows how circles and other geometric shapes point to the unity of the Trinity. Not only do circles and triangles capture the beauty of the godhead, but proportion as well. Caldecott states, "A single relationship unites the Father to Christ, Christ to his disciples. Christ is the proportional mean between God and the saints." (81) He even relates pi, and its unending string of numbers, to the infinite love of God for his creation. If the Holy Spirit is the circle connecting the two points of Father and Son, then his measure is πd, an infinite number times the distance between Father and Son. We reside in the middle of that circle!

Next in the quadrivium is music and to this Caldecott turns. According to the ancients, the universe is singing! And "to understand the universe is to appreciate its music, the harmonies between its parts, the rhythm of if movement, and the proportion of its elements." (94) This music becomes physically manifest in architecture as well. Unfortunately, we have lost sight of the verticality seen in medieval architecture, with its intentional pointing to God. We have focused on the horizontal, that is man to man and to his environment. Even the tallest skyscrapers are simply horizontal buildings stacked upon each other. He calls for an architecture based on verticality, permanence, and iconography. Not only buildings, but the natural world is singing. "The animals, plants, and minerals, the stars and elements, were universally thought to 'praise' their maker, either simply by their very existence, or when called upon to do so by man (who gives them a voice they do not possess in themselves)." (107)

This universal singing leads naturally to astronomy, the fourth branch of the quadrivium. C.S. Lewis brilliantly reminds us that "The music which is too familiar to be heard enfolds us day and night in all ages." (110) We live in an enchanted creation and we miss it because it is all too familiar. Unfortunately early astronomers missed the mark in their insistence on an earth-centered system, and so lost some credibility. The problem was that the astronomers so believed in the mythical symbolism of creation that they worked backward from that presupposition. Rather than let the actual data guide them and then discover the beauty, they tried to impose their own vision of the beautiful, distorting what God had actually designed. In attempting to "save appearance" they created increasingly complicated descriptions of what was actually a beautiful system: the sun at the center (light) and the elliptical orbits of planets which contain two centers, just as we orbit our lives around the visible and the invisible God. Much beauty exists in the truth of the created order. The ancient astronomers lacked the faith to wait for that beauty to be revealed. 

The final subject of astronomy should lead most naturally to the study of God, but in our secular and disenchanted world, we have become buffered selves, disengaged from the world. "Without those ties, without that embeddedness, nature was drained of grace, and our connection to the transcendent God became less a matter of imagination or intellect or feeling than of sheer willpower." (124) To re-enchant the universe, we must return to revelation and worship. If we define "liturgy" as "a formal ritual enacted by those who understand themselves to be participating in an action with the divine..." (Wikipedia), then liturgy may be our salvation.

Can we see liturgy itself, then, as the "lost key" to humane education that we have been searching for in this book; that is, to the reintegration of all things, all subjects, in a vision of sacred order? Would a renewed appreciation of liturgy help to anchor theories about number and symbolism and quality more profoundly in real life, enabling us to introduce some much needed harmony into our own souls too? (126)

Caldecott reminds us that all societies are religious societies and all contain a creation story, a doctrine of the end times, and a liturgy or set of rituals to organize time and space. Ours has moved away from true religion to a secular and God-denying counterfeit religion. We must therefore start with remembering. We were created by God and that knowledge should evoke in us gratitude. That gratitude should turn into worship. This, then, should engender an appreciation of the seven liberal arts as a way to give ontological depth to our universe and point to a harmony that harmonizes our souls with the soul of the Creator. Modernity rejects this vertical dimension and so leads to a fragmented and dissipated self. It is the very definition of hell. The man whose soul seeks to harmonize itself with its creator flies on wings of both reason and faith, all bound up in love. Reason will lead to faith as beauty is revealed and faith will naturally engage in reason to reveal more beauty. It is, as Dante tells us, love that moves it all. 

The Good Teacher by Christopher Perrin and Carrie Eben

The book, The Good Teacher by Christopher Perrin and Carrie Eben appeared on my radar, and I decided to give it a try. I knew it contained all the familiar tropes common to Classical Education: festina lente, multum non multa, etc., and as such, I expected to learn very little new material. I guess I hoped it would validate and reinforce what I was already doing. In a way, I suppose that was true, however, not before it absolutely kicked me in my teacher behind.

Let's begin with this summary of each principle given in the back of the book. After each, I will offer an evaluation of myself based on how I am doing on that particular principle.

The Goal of All Education:

Wisdom and Virtue

By employing the following principles, teachers will naturally cultivate virtue and wisdom in the lives of their students.

1. Festina Lente, Make Haste Slowly

It is better to master each step rather than to rush through content; the quickest way forward is to ensure that you take the time needed for mastery. To make haste slowly is to set a pace that is fitting for the time that is available and that ensures students master what you teach them.

Right away, the very definition of the principle had me crying for mercy. It's true that I try to cram as much in as possible. I DEFINITELY don't "take time for mastery." Ouch. The authors claim, "To 'go forward' without mastering the skill... is to go backward and do great harm" (p. 21). So yeah... They add, "Festina lent allows the time needed for students to love something well" (p. 30). I completely failed the assessment given at the end. 

Action Steps:

• Focus on mastery, not "covering material."
• Ask students to repeat major lesson principles several times throughout the lesson.
• Leave room for student questions and unforeseen learning curveballs.
• Resist being flustered or rushed by all I feel I have to accomplish in a day or week.
• Do not give into pressure to finish the curriculum.
• Privilege the students' needs over the curriculum
• Cut down on the activities and objectives per lesson, focussing on one idea or skill.

2. Multum Non Multa, Much Not Many

It is better to master a few things than to cursorily cover much content that will be forgotten; it is better to study fewer things but study them well; it is better to deeply understand a single book than to superficially read several books that will not be loved nor remembered; it is better to study deeply the truly best things available than to divide attention and comprehension among several good things.

Once again, the very definition got me. Since this one is similar to the last, of course I was going to be brought face-to-face with my failure! This one can be described with the words "savor, linger, attend, and ponder" (p. 36). They remind me that I must "be selective and only teach what is necessary for the student to learn well" (p. 36). They emphatically state that doing too much simply CANNOT be done! "If we overwhelm the students with too much of a good thing, we will do mare harm than good and even ruin their taste for something beautiful" (p.37). Double ouch! 

Action Steps:

• Only include one objective, "truth," or logos per lesson.
• Teach a few things deeply rather than cover a multitude.
• Make clear to students that mastery of a skill or idea increases the joy or love of learning for this particular concept.
• Remember that love and mastery leads to further learning. Frustration and "covering" do not.
• Resist becoming impatient or intimidated with the depth of conversation or time on a particular idea or skill.
• Do NOT feel overwhelmed by what needs to be covered. 

3. Repetition Mater Memoriae, Repetition is the Mother of Memory

Revisiting and reviewing are not rote learning but rather deepening love, affection, and understanding of something true, good, and beautiful. It is like kissing the photo of a beloved person. Important skill, ideas, facts, persons, stories, and books should be revisited in regular and fresh ways that deepen understanding, retention, and delight.

The authors make an interesting claim concerning repetition. I find it boring and unnecessary, while they state that ideas the students love will be a joy to review. In addition, "educators helps stop the leaks by repeating things worth remembering" (p. 60). Like the last two, in my haste to "get through" the material, I definitely neglect repetition and review. 

Action Steps:

• Regularly review and repeat information through having students summarize and explain what we have covered.
• Consider games, songs, and chants to help review.
• Resist the fallacy of too much knowledge which assumes the students "get it" without first ensuring that they, in fact, do "get it."

4. Songs, Chants, and Jingles

We sing when we love, and we remember what we love and sing. Children (up to about age twelve) enjoy singing and chanting ideas and facts that they have come to know and treasure. Regular singing and chanting delight students, employing their bodies, voices, sight, and hearing; deepening learning; and making it permanent.

The authors make clear that this is mostly a lower grade principle, but it definitely has application even to the oldest students. And I agree. I do this, in a sense in the daily Catechism. It's a daily chant of the most important information. And since it's done daily, it incorporates the need for repetition! But I could stand to include songs a bit more. 

Action Steps:

• Offer patriotic songs in the place of the prayer each day after the Catechism. 
• Do not let my own lack of singing ability thwart my attempts to inculcate song in our day. 

5. Wonder and Curiosity

Wonder is an astonishing encounter with reality that sparks love and study. Curiosity is a disposition that seeks to explore, investigate, and learn. Sometimes a spirit of curiosity leads a student to an encounter of wonder; sometimes an encounter of wonder further cultivates a spirit of curiosity.

When a student has been captivated by something true, good, and beautiful, the most engaged form of learning begins because the student has become enchanted with an earnest desire to know and becomes his own teacher—he becomes an intellectually honest person. This wonder is modeled by teachers; students are inspired and imitate their teachers.

The authors remind us that "when our palpable ignorance is combined with a longing to know, we are ready to be educated--we have become a student" (p. 99). Each lessons needs to start with something to spark the wonder and curiosity of the students. This could include a question or at least an objective for the day so the student can begin to wonder at the answer. The teacher, however, should not be too quick to answer her own question: "The good teacher will neither tell students what they are to see nor explain matters before the students even raise question. She will work to place wonders before them; they will gaze, awaken, and wonder. They they will ask questions with anticipation and even hunger" (p. 101). At the same time, the teacher must resolve the questions with knowledge. Land the plane. 

Action Steps:

• Avoid a hurried or over-planned lesson which leaves no time for wonder. 
• Begin each lesson with an objective and/or a question to spark wonder and a recognition of a gap in knowledge. Ask myself, "How can I engage students' wonder before the lesson?"

6. Scholé and Contemplation

We long for a place, without distraction and noise, to study and contemplate with our friends. Scholé provides the atmosphere, the set-apart, sacred space and time that enable students to see together. Wonder certainly stimulates contemplation, but scholé provides the conditions for it to continue and spread

Once again, I recognize myself when the authors claim that many teachers "are often busy, distracted, and anxious--doing good things while neglecting what is best" (p. 130). They recommend a sabbath-like rhythm of allowing for approximately 1/7th of the lesson to involve contemplation. It must be strategically planned and integrated so that contemplation and active learning go hand-in-hand. 

Action Steps:

• Provide time for relaxed discussion and contemplation during class.
• Allow students to "play" as a part of the learning process.
• Do not sacrifice contemplation in order to "get more done." 
• Allow for quiet space and do not fill it with the sound of my own voice!

7. Embodied Learning -- Liturgical and Poetic Learning

Because humans are bodies as well as souls, creating academic, sensory, and bodily rhythms modulates and deepens learning. Students as bodies learn through all five senses; embodied learning honors learning through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and hands. Students will desire to be in harmony with the world's beauty when they experience embodied rhythms, practices, liturgies, and routines. 

Because humans are bodies as well as souls, one way we know reality is through a sensory, participatory bodily engagement with the world, which evokes awe, delight, and sometimes even fear.

Liturgies are "any communal activity that is patterned, ordered, and formative" (p. 146). These are the routines that we do as a class. My Catechism is a great example of this. As we stand and recite together, we are incorporating "embodied" learning which engages both body and mind. The key word for me to remember is "formative." The liturgies must have the impact of forming the student into the virtuous person I desire. Part of this embodied learning is the decor and sounds that pervade the room. They suggest a "coffee station" for the smell alone! Cocoa in the winter and lemonade in the summer! The authors chastise us for failing to engage the whole of the student. "Our mistake is that we routinely overlook and fail to harmonize all of the senses when teaching and act as if students had one giant set of eyes, a modest set of ears, very small hands, and practically no nose or tongue" (p. 159). 

Liturgiical Action Steps:

The authors suggest a daily routine, similar to hosting a meal, that I find very helpful:

• Invitation: Establish the classroom as a welcoming space to explore the good, true, and beautiful.
• Preparation: All the work accomplished in prior lessons.
• Welcome: Build interest and expectations for the coming lesson.
• Drinks and hors d'oeuvres: Short review/contemplation.
• Seating at the table: Arrange desks in the most conducive manner.
• Prayer: Ask the Spirit of God to illuminate understanding
• Conversation: Lecture, seminar or tutorial.
• Dessert and coffee: Conclusory part that is relaxed and summative.
• Departure and good-bye: Exchange of thanksgiving and gratitude/well-wishing.

Poetical Actions Steps:

Poetic knowledge involves "showing, not telling." It incorporates all the senses. Consider projects/simulations. But not to excess. 

• Incorporate all five senses.
• Include beautiful art, music, and/or poetry in each lesson.

8. Docendo Descimus, By Teaching We learn 

Students want to teach what they have come to know, and when they do, their friends pay particular attention and are inspired to learn. Knowledge taught is twice learned. Peers can teach peers; older students can teach younger students; students when they teach become filled with greater desire to learn.

This principle reinforces the notion that students learn best when they are the teachers. I try to incorporate this in our daily discussion as well as projects. I think I'm doing ok on this! But I could be better and more intentional.

Action Steps:

The authors recommend the following structure:

1. First Little Talk: Introduction of the topic/"Entice"
2. Presentation of the Artifact: Actual lesson or artifact under consideration.
3. Narration: Students summarize and describe the lesson (repetitio mater memoriae/docendo discimus). 
4. Second Little Talk: Analyze the narration for what is missing or incomplete. Use the Common Topics:

• Relationship: Cause/effect
• Circumstance: Context
• Comparison: Compare to other lessons/artifacts
• Testimony: Credibility of the author or other author's opinions
• Definition: What is it under consideration?

    5.  Response: Student respond somehow to what they learned.

9. Optimus Magister Bonus Liber Est, The Best Teacher is a Good Book

The voices of great teachers in the good books never stop beckoning, inspiring, teaching, again and again with infinite patience. The best book is by a great author and is a book wisely selected (usually by a teacher) for a particular student at a fitting time. One who guides a student through a study of a good book is a tutor; the teacher is the author. Together the author (teacher), tutor, and student engage in a three-way conversation that educates remarkably.

According to Seneca, "You must linger among a limited number of master thinkers and digest their works if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. Everywhere means nowhere" (p. 213). This absolutely pierces to my soul! I am so guilty of trying to introduce so much to my students that I fear they remember, and certainly own, little of it. 

This section, however, validates my idea that reading aloud text and privileging the text is the right way to go. It also serves as a good reminder to get students using their commonplace journals. Often, in my too-stuffed lesson plans, we have no time to actually do this. I am skipping the point of the lesson. Allow them  to begin to "own" the learning by recording it!!!

Like the previous section, they recommend the use of the Common Topics to find great questions, with the addition on an "Ethic/Obligation" section asking "What should this person have done and why?" (p. 225).

Action Steps:

• Use Commonplace Journal with every reading.
• Use Common Topics for discussion questions, maybe even in reading packets/reading quizzes.

10. Conversation and Friendship

Ongoing conversation between teachers and students, and between students and fellow students, creates a friendship of the soul that gives birth to learning that is personal, mutual, delightful, and deep. In continuing exchanges over long spans of time, the teacher forms the student in his likeness. But the student too renews and refreshes the love of learning in the teacher. Academic conversation characterizes all learning; both the student and teacher seek the true, good, and beautiful together as academic friends and fellows.

C. S. Lewis starts the section with, "The schoolmaster must think about the pupil: everything he says is said to improve the boy's character or open his mind--the schoolmaster is there to make the pupil a 'good' man" (p. 236). I need to make sure that all my lesson have the virtue of the student and his character formation in mind. Even if it is just tenacity or thoroughness, all lessons must be used to further an actual good in my students. 

The section describes a "college" as a collection of learners. It asks us to invite our older students in the college that already exists in the faculty. They are to become its "junior" members. I love this idea! I think it treats our *almost* adult students with the gravitas they deserve. The classroom then becomes a place of restful and inviting conversation among *semi* equals. 

Action Steps:

Review with the class what "kills" the conversation and thus makes them ineligible for membership in the "college":

• Judgment
• Ridicule
• One person dominating
• Thinking about what to say instead of listening
• Interrupting
• Side conversations

APPENDIX

Some questions are given in the Appendix D that I think will be helpful in creating and using discussion questions from a Christian perspective.

1. Questions that reflect on God's nature and will
2. Questions that examine moral and ethical implications
3. Questions that explore human purpose and calling
4. Questions about the nature of Truth and knowledge
5. Questions that encourage humility and dependence on God
6. Questions about redemption and restoration
7. Questions that foster wonder and gratitude
8. Questions that discern spiritual growth
9. Questions that build community and mission

A Little Book for New Historians by Robert Tracy McKenzie

This book, A Little Book for New Historians by Robert Tracy McKenzie, was recommended by a member of our History team. It's short, but packs a powerful punch.

He begins by defining History. It doesn't seem like it should be all that difficult, but he starts with telling us what History is not: it is not the past. Looping C.S. Lewis into his argument, he makes the persuasive case that the past is comparable to a vast ocean: each moment which has ever occurred is a tiny drop. Only God knows the past, but we mortals can access limited parts of it, at least those parts that can be remembered. And "remembered" is the operative word. History is the remembered past. History is the collective memory of a people, and just as memory forms a person's identity, so History forms the people. Therefore the study of History should engender awe and humility as we struggle to remember who we are.

But if History is not necessarily the past, what is it? History is actually many things and must therefore be understood differently depending on the purpose of studying it. It is first of all an intellectual discipline. As such, it involves analyzing evidence and making arguments. The historian must love his subject and treat it as an object of love, while at the same time thinking critically about sources and veracity. We treat figures from the past as made in the imago dei, while recognizing that human are fallen and flawed and subject to cultural currents (as are we today). This intellectual discipline involves four distinct categories: historical information, historical understanding, historical thinking skills, and historical consciousness. After gathering the facts as best as we are able, we need to fit those facts together into a coherent whole. Then we make logical and persuasive arguments concerning the past and allow the whole process to change both ourselves and how we see the world. This final point is crucial. History without a look inward is antiquarianism, the study of history for history's sake. 

But History is not only a collective memory, it is a conversation. We speak to each other of our findings and arguments (secondary sources) and we speak to the dead (primary sources) because their ideas are still with us. We must enter that conversation with humility, acknowledging the limitations definitional to humans. All, whether other historians, historical figures, or ourselves, are struggling to understand the times and each comes with his own perspectives, biases, and blind spots. This conversation is the real point of History. Facts and figures will be forgotten, but the interpretation of those discreet points and the way in which we invite that interpretation to mold us will not be. It must therefore be top of mind that although the historian talks with the dead, he is speaking to the living. 

While History is a collective memory, an intellectual discipline, and a conversation, History is most importantly a mirror. Without an application to humans living today, History becomes a parody of its biggest criticism, a collection of dates and dead people (usually dead, white males). The Christian historian will take the sovereignty of God as a given. But the Christian historian must be careful not to ascribe motives to the workings of God. Only with extreme arrogance can we proclaim that God is doing this or that for this or that purpose. We know for a fact that History is the working out of the Gospel message as God seeks to redeem a lost and broken world. We know that History is moving towards the return of Christ and of Jesus's dominion over all. We know that nothing happens without the knowledge of God. Beyond that it's all speculation and we should tread lightly. 

But if History is a mirror, what should it reveal? Moral judgment is the act of judging the morality of past actors. In some respects, this is necessary. We should be able to say with confidence that the Aztec's proclivity for human sacrifice was evil. Where we should be wary is in concluding that we, ourselves, would never practice such depravity. Here we are invited to make a moral reflection. Would I, immersed in the world of the Aztecs, have accepted or even advocated for human sacrifice? The answer, if we are being honest, is often, yes. We need therefore to ask the next question, why? What in my heart makes me susceptible to cultural norms and the will to power such that I might find myself cheering as an innocent victim dies? And then follow that by asking, what am I blindly following today? What areas do I accept or advocate that run directly counter to the Word of God? McKenzie invites the historian to look closely at the strange over the familiar as areas that particularly challenge and reveal blindspots. 

McKenzie ends with three questions vital to the study of History:

1. How does what I am learning informing how I see the world?
2. How does it change how I understand myself? 
3. What does the knowledge that I'm acquiring require of me? 

I would add, how does this knowledge allow me to fulfill my purpose of glorifying Good and enjoying Him forever?

Only God knows the entirety of the story He is writing. As we study History, we fallen and flawed humans, depraved and blind, seek to know the very mind of God. We join in with the chorus of those, not actually dead, but our brothers and sisters gone home before us, to discover the immensity of the story He is telling about Himself. We stand on holy ground, seeking Him, and delighting in the glimpses He allows.

The Discarded Image by C.S. Lewis

Having read many of C.S. Lewis' books, and considering him one of my favorite thinkers, I decided to tackle, The Discarded Image. I think I probably bit off more than I could chew. I blame my own meager education.

Lewis is making the point that the medievals had a full and coherent "model" of the world and from it grew all we know of it and the subsequent Renaissance. Lewis begins by describing the medieval man as, "not a dreamer nor a wanderer. He was an organizer, a codifier, a builder of systems. He wanted 'place for everything and everything in the right place.' Distinction, definition, tabulation were his delight" (10). 

Unfortunately, while I yield to better minds who claim great reverence for this work, I got lost time and again. 

I should probably read it again in twenty years. After I finish my "List of Great Books to Read Before I Die."

 

A Light in the Window by Jan Karon

Since Tim and I both enjoyed the first "Mitford" book, we decided to read A Light in the Window by Jan Karon. She keeps up the small town feel in the next installment which begins immediately upon Father Tim's return to Mitford from Ireland.

Things are progressing with his lady love Cynthia. Of course they cannot go perfectly smooth and lots of miscommunication and jealousy ensue.

Father Tim must deal with the cantankerous contractor in charge of building Miss Sadie's bequeathed nursing home. 

On top of all that, Cousin Meg shows up out of the blue (or maybe Ireland, it's unclear). 

Between the daily events that consume Father Tim's time and finding Dooley a new school where he has a chance to flourish, Cynthia and Time struggle to figure out where their relationship fits in. 

I guess I'll have to read the third book!

The Crucible by Arthur Miller

As I work to read the list I give my students of "Books to Read Before you Die," I grabbed The Crucible by Arthur Miller off my shelf.

 

As a substitute, I watched the second half of the movie multiple times, so I felt a familiarity with the characters, setting, and plot. Now I want to go back and watch the whole movie.

The story is engrossing. It ostensibly centers on the Salem Witch Trials, but is obviously so much more. The tale reveals the very dark underbelly of humanity. Lust, greed, fear. It's all in there. 

The story begins with young women doing what young women do: fighting for an escape and freedom. One has apparently seduced a married man and sees her chance to break him free from his long-suffering wife. Not only do the girls shout, "Witch" in order to absolve themselves, the town uses the opportunity to free itself of gadflies and cranks, or even obstacles to prosperity. 

The panic, the rush to judgment, the absolute certainty mirror our own during the Covid nightmare.

Nothing has changed. 

John Proctor takes center stage as he seeks to redeem himself from his sin of adultery and betrayal. He is the hero of the play. 

Interestingly, after the madness, the town returns to "normal" and consigns the horror to a never-spoken-of anecdote. This too is typical of humanity. We don't learn. We intentionally forget. 

The play is horrifying. It's a slow-motion train wreck in which multiple people yelled, "Stop!" Yet the reader knows it will not stop until the cancer has worked itself out. 

Never didactic, the play shines a bright light on our own foibles. 

 

At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon

Robyn Vandewalle sent me At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon for my birthday. Set in Blowing Rock (Mitford) North Carolina, she figured I love a "hometown" novel. She was right.

The book features a variety of small town characters led by Father Tim, a gracious and good-natured bachelor. As he deals with the daily circumstances that present themselves, we fall in love with the charming and slow-paced town. 

All stories, no matter how dire, seem to end well. Small setbacks are simply fodder for spending time with the demention-adled Miss Rose, the long-suffering Uncle Billy, the misunderstood child Dooley, the opinionated secretary Emma, and rich spinster Miss Sadie, as well as the intriguing "neighbor" Cynthia Coppersmith. 

The plot is not especially relevant in this slice-of-life novel. 

Father Tim is simply going about his day trying to handle each hiccup as best he can. 

I look forward to reading more in the series. 

Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund

Our church decided to read Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund in our Community Groups.

After reading it, my first thought was, "Why don't we lead with this?"

The book reflects the Puritan-style of explicating at length on a single verse. Ortlund has chosen Matthew 11:29: I am gentle and lowly in heart. 

Ortlund begins by reminding us that this is the only place in all of Scripture where Jesus talks about his heart. It might be good for us to start there.

This not one characteristic among many. It is not in tension or balancing out his wrath. It's who he is. 

Jesus IS gentle and lowly.

We see this time again in the gospels as he acts with love and humility towards ALL who sought him. The seeking him is key. Ortlund states, "This is not who he is to everyone, indiscriminately. This is how he is for those who come to him, who take his yoke upon them, who cry to him for help" (21). 

Jesus pronounces "woe" and judgement on the non-repentant. But to the sick, he is the Great Physician. 

In fact, in a very moving metaphor, Ortlund compares Jesus to a doctor working in third-world conditions. He is overjoyed when someone who is hurting and broken comes to him. He does not reject the patient or load him with guilt. He welcomes the chance to restore and to heal. That's who Jesus is. We, who come to him in repentance, are his joy. 

Not only is Jesus standing with open arms, ready to welcome the profligate home, he understands us. The beauty of a god who came to earth as a man, and suffered in every way a man can suffer, means he looks on us with compassion. He knows what it is to be in our shoes. He knows how hard it is to run from temptation. He's seen first-hand in those he loved failure. In fact, tied up in the word "gentle" is the understanding that he will deal with us perfectly. The deeper the anguish, the pain, the hurt, the brokenness, the sin, the gentler he becomes. He is there for us in the exact perfect way we need him to be. We cannot outsin his grace. It enlarges to encompass even our biggest failures. 

At the same time, Jesus understands the destructive nature of sin even better than we do. He, alone, sees the full damage caused by sin. Even in our most self-effacing moments, we fail to grasp the entirety of the damage done. In our fallenness, we will always color our repentance with some amount of self-justification. Jesus looks on our sin and knows it's worse than we thought. 

But rather than causing him to reject us, that knowledge of the depth of sin increases his compassion for us and his anger towards sin. He alone knows the havoc sin wreaks on his children. He will judge. But he will not judge the penitent. He already paid the price for our sins. Therefore when one takes up his offer of forgiveness, even with only a tiny glimpse of the damage done, his heart bursts with joy and love. That sacrifice has been made worth it.

And not only has Jesus paid the price in the past, he continues to make intercession for us today. Some see this as Jesus pleading for mercy from a harsh and retributive Father. This is not true. Jesus continuously brings us up to the Father and together they celebrate what he's done. Jesus is praying for us. And the Father is more than delighted to answer. Imagine that. He not only intercedes, Jesus is our advocate. He's on our side and he's making our case. This is his heart. 

He is a true friend. The most true friend we will ever have. He pursues us while allowing us to pursue him. And it is a two-way relationship. We have the honor to be his friend. Incredible. He knows every broken part, every shameful secret, every act of unfaithfulness, every betrayal. Yet he loves. He despises sin for its warping effect on us. He intercedes for us. He makes our case. His joy is when we come to him. And he calls us "friend." Not simply that we can regard him as a friend. He looks at us and says, "Friend." 

With all this focus on Christ, the temptation is to view him as "the good one." The Father is eternally indignant and must be pacified. The Spirit is around, but not doing much. This is so far from the truth. Everything that is true of Jesus is true of the Father and the Spirit. God the Father has the same heart. He, too, runs toward repentant souls with open arms. He does not need convincing. The Son advocates and intercedes because that is the job the Father gave him. The Spirit is the actual spirit of the Father. It is God. It's this loving, gracious, merciful friend in a form which can indwell us. It's God in us. Loving us and shaping us from the inside out. It's what makes God, God. It's the most intimate form of God. 

The heart remains the same. Yesterday. Today. And Forever.

From childhood, we are raised with a view of God as eternally angry, sitting high above in judgment, ready to pin us to the ground with thunderbolts. We are tolerated. We are perpetual disappointments. We are charity cases.

This is not the heart of God. 

He delights in a repentant child. He loves and welcomes sinners. The deeper the sin, the more grace to pour out on us. His greatest joy is to welcome us back into relationship with him. Think of the the Father of the Prodigal Son. He scans the horizon looking for the first sign of our return. And when we slink towards him, he runs towards us. He throws a party in our honor. That is the heart of God. 

Anger and wrath are his "strange work." Necessary, but not his natural bent. His love requires justice. He hates sin. He knows the vast extent of the damage sin does. He cannot allow it to continue. 

But his natural bent is love. We are his heart. His most natural desire is to embrace the repentant and rejoice. He must be provoked to anger. He naturally loves.

Why is this idea of God so strange to our ears. It's because we tend to see God as a bigger version of ourselves. We think, "If it was me, I'd be really mad. I might forgive, but I'd never forget." We anthropomorphize God. And we attribute our most sin-laden responses to him. How far off the mark is this! God, himself, tells us, "My ways are not your ways." He doesn't think or act like us. He's not just a better version of us, he's other. He responds in ways we can only hope for, but would never do ourselves. Our sinful nature justifies ourselves and condemns others. God has no sinful nature. He does not have vestiges of a sinful natures. He is not us, just redeemed. He is redemption. He does not need to justify himself, and he offers no condemnation to the repentant. This is simply not possible for a human. We cannot respond in this way. It goes against every fiber of our being. It goes with the grain of his being. It is God being most fully God. 

He is gentle and lowly. 

Ortlund ends with,

The world is starving for a yearning love, a love that remembers instead of forsakes. A love that isn't tied to our loveliness. A love that its down underneath our messiness. A love that is bigger than the enveloping darkness we might be walking through even today. A love of which even the very best human romance is the faintest of whispers. (168)

Christ offers us that love.

The Christian Mind by Harry Blamires

For the fall session of teacher development, I was asked to read and discuss The Christian Mind by Harry Blamires with the entire faculty. The teachers were given one of six chapters to read on their own. My job was to explicate how that chapter fits into the whole, how it fits into the classical, Christian model of education, and how teachers might incorporate the work. In 45 minutes. 

Let’s go.

First off, Blamires makes the case in this 1963 book that the “Christian Mind” is greatly wanting in the significant conversations of the day. In the forward he says that he considered updating some of the material for the more recent publications, but found that since nothing had changed, the book remained cogent. 

While Christians might practice their religion with diligence and integrity, Blamires points out: 

But as a thinking being, the modern Christian has succumbed to secularization. He accepts religion—its morality, its worship, its spiritual culture; but he rejects the religious view of life, the view which sets all earthly issues within the context of the eternal, the view which relates all human problems—social, political, cultural—to the doctrinal foundations of the Christian Faith, the view which sees all things here below in terms of God’s supremacy and earth’s transitoriness, in terms of Heaven and Hell. (3-4)

The Christian has given up the entire battlefield of ideas over to secular assumptions and secular ways of arguing. In fact Blamires asks the reader to attempt to think “christianly” on any issue, apart from preconceived biases or political positions, and then argue the point with fellow Christians. It will soon become apparent how lonely this place is. No one talks that way. In fact it can seem dangerous to cede ground as it might benefit a political opponent. Christians must “re-establish the status of objective truth as distinct from personal opinion.” (40) Only then can we hope to recover “the Christian mind—a mind trained, informed, equipped to handle data of secular controversy within a framework of reference which is constructed of Christian presuppositions.” (43)

Blamires contrasts the secular way of thinking to this christianly way: 

To think secularly is to think within a frame of referenced bounded by the limits of our life on earth: it is to keep one’s calculations rooted in this-worldly criteria. to think christianly is to accept all things with the mind as related, directly or indirectly, to man’s eternal destiny as the redeemed and chose child of God. (44)

Blamires goes onto state, “There is nothing in our experience, however trivial or worldly, or even evil, which cannot be thought about christianly.” (45)

But exactly what it means to “think christianly” can evade us. Blamires starts with the notion that to think christianly is to this with a supernational orientation. “The Christian mind sees human life and human. history held in the hands of God. It sees the whole universe sustained by his power and his love. It sees the natural order as dependent upon the supernatural order, time as contained within eternity.” (67) I think this can be termed, “gospel-colored glasses.” That is, and granted this sounds very foreign, the Christian should approach every topic with an eye to the eternal and God’s sovereignty. “What is God doing in this circumstance, and how can I align myself with it?” is a question we should have at the top of our minds as we think through and contribute to the conversation. That world, God’s world, is the real world. Do we live like this?

Next the Christian mind is aware of evil:

The notion that this world, and the powers of it, are in the grip of evil, is too well established in Christian teaching to be lightly disregarded, yet Christians have grown accustomed to shrug off the more somber implications of this truth. (86)

At the same time, we must avoid the trap of pride. It is easy to see the evil committed by the other. Blamires says we must approach or fellow travelers in this life with a sense of “What have we done?” (103) The world our Lord entered into was rotten to the core. Yet he entered in. He did not shy away from calling evil, evil, but he knew his place was in this world, with we fallen beings.

The Christian mind must also have a firm grasp of the conception of truth:

One may say without exaggeration that failure to distinguish clearly between the Christian conception of truth and the conception of truth popularly cherished in the secular mind has been one of the most unfortunate neglects of our age. (106) 

Our society today likes to talk about “my truth” and “your truth.” The Christian must understand that truth “is supernaturally grounded, not developed within nature; that it is objective and not subjective; that it is a revelation and not a construction; that it is discovered by inquiry and not elected by a majority vote; that it is authoritative and not a matter of personal choice.” (107) The Christian must be willing to say, “Don’t ask me what I like or what I approve of. Ask me what I think is true. The truth isn’t always nice. It isn’t always likeable. But I believe you’ve got to cling to it.” (121) But knowledge of the truth requires a deep understanding the theology presented in Scripture. We must never resort to an uninformed opinion prefaced with, “Well I believe...”

The Christian mind accepts authority. The world does not and never can. The world does not tolerate authority or even understand it. We live under the authority of the Father, “benign yet authoritative, loving yet powerful, merciful yet wrathful.” (140) As Christians, the gospel message should lead to “that sense of personal inadequacy, human dependence, utter lowliness and lostness, which brings the Christian to his knees and throws him into the hands of our Lord.” We must avoid the “self-satisfaction of the pharisaical kind with which our Lord himself never came to terms.” (146) The vehicle the Father uses is the Church and therefore the world must adapt itself to the Church. This is heretical thinking in our times. Blamires spends a lot of time decrying the common refrain that the Church is in trouble in the modern age. Impossible. The Church cannot be destroyed. This was proven 2,000 years ago. The Church, as the body of Christ, will continue to exert its authority until Christ returns.

The concern for the person must also consume the Christian mind. The Incarnation is proof enough that the human being is an exalted life form. Blamires spends most of this chapter decrying the mechanization of our society. Technology and its all-consuming effects have served to dehumanize that which is made in the image of God. And this before the internet. “We have to ask ourselves what degree of dependence upon the technological artifacts that are drugging the bodies and minds of our contemporaries is appropriate in those who are trying to live the Christian life.” (160) Now he’s getting right up in our business! He posits that Christians everywhere should be up in arms about the materialism and dehumanization being fostered by technology. In 1963. We serve our technological innovations, not the God in heaven. 

To those not convinced, Blamires is clear:

Powerful influences of government and commerce nourish the concept of man as a packet of diverse functions. There is lavish expenditure on numerous devices which appeal to man as the creature of one function only—propaganda, advertisement, entertainment, and indoctrination designed wholly to capture the undiscerning eye and the unthinking heart of man the conditioned consumer, the conditioned voter, the conditioned producer. Every effort is made to debase man by dehumanizing him; to condemn him to an existence in which he functions, not as a person, but as a thing; not as a thinking, choosing, creature, but as a cog in a piece of machinery. To function in a machine is to function sub-humanly—to act in a preordained, automatic pattern which precludes the exercise of purpose, creativeness, choice, and reason. (165)

Finally, the Christian mind has a sacramental cast. He beautifully states:

The Christian Faith presents a sacramental view of life. It shows life’s positive richnesses as derivative from the supernatural. It teaches us that to create beauty or to experience beauty, to recognize truth or to discover truth, to receive love or to give love, is to come into contact with realities which express the Divine Nature. (173) 

He uses society’s focus on all things sensual as ripe ground for the Christian mind. The Church has not recognized the extent to which today’s youth are seeking the transcendent when they lean into sexually-themed culture. Blamires makes clear that “the religion of the Incarnation must be presented to modern youth as something more exciting than a lot of prohibitions aimed at disinfecting life of its torrential delights, and something more positive than a plan to substitute a sterility of body and mind for that contemporary fleshly abandonment which, if no longer glad, is at least perversely affirmative of existence.” (174). Adolescents crave more than we are offering them. They will turn to the psychologist or the poet, but they will have their passions met. 

Blamires suggests a Christian Romanticism as an answer to the youth. Once we recognize that the longings felt by the youth as expressed in their music, culture, clothing, relationships, stories, etc. is never going to be fulfilled in this life, we can point to them to the reality that it is not supposed to be. We are not of this world. Our hope lies outside it. As C.S. Lewis said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” He paints a beautiful picture of a heart flung to the stars, of longing never fulfilled, of dreams remaining dreams becausethat is the reality. We must engage our young people where they are, full of hope and longing and dreams. We must tell them those are wonderful markers of a world in which all can be fulfilled:

Because they lose their intrinsic joy, we know our early dreams and longings for what they are, the pointers to fulfillment and reality; not ends in themselves, but significant disturbers of our peace. Unsatisfied longings must be nourished in us, and the elusive dream of fulfillment dangled before us, or we should never know that we are not here, on earth, in our proper resting-place. Utterly divested of this disturbing inheritance, men’s hearts would never desire the ultimate peace and joy offered by God.

The Christian mind makes sense of passionate youthful longings and dissatisfactions as pointers to the divine creation of man and the fact that he is called to glory. (179-180)

The instinct to envelop itself with passionate, sensual adventures is fundamentally healthy.

What?

This runs so counter to everything we communicate to young people. We bombard them with do’s and don’ts. We never tell them that their desires are good, true, and beautiful. We tell them those worldly attractions will not fulfill, but we never tell them it is right to long for more. We tell them Jesus is enough. He is. But not until we see him face-to-face. 

But it’s not enough to promise them a time in the sweet by-and-by. We must help them own these desires and cherish them for what they are: glimpses of heaven. 

Blamires turns to the poetry of Coventry Patmore, with whom I admit unfamiliarity, as an example of “the God who woos the soul of man through the self-transcending grab of grateful love.” (182) Blamires reminds us that the “pull of beauty in love, or art, or Nature” are all instance of:

the voice of God which calls, and the grace of God which urges us to listen. Youth’s romanticism before the potent glamour of sex, music, dancing, and the like, must be a Christian romanticism which recognizes the divine Voice. Unless youth’s stirring urges and visions are seen to point beyond time, they will be worshipped as ends in themselves. (182)

Blamires also enlists the writing of Charles Williams, of whom I’m also unfamiliar, to point the way romantic love relates to Christian Romanticism. The way the lover envisions his beloved is how we are to understand how God sees us. In addition, we are to understand that when that which is perfect is come, we will see our fellow man in the same light, with a “rapture of emotion, which seems to blend humility with exultation, self-giving with grateful receiving, in a joyful interchange of laughter and courtesy.” (185) This kind of love, whether glimpsed through romantic love or the beauty of nature demands immortality. All other human activities will cease, but Blamires asserts, “Death is incompatible with love.” (186) Only the Christian theology of eternal life promises love fulfilled. 

Blamires then ends with this powerful statement: 

Sexual love is one of the most powerful openers of the human mind to the reality of the eternal, one of the most potent disturbers of human willingness to come to terms with materialistic secularism, For nothing in natural experience more universally touches the soul of man with the call to worship, to serve, to adore, that which is outside himself, with the hunger for an immortality spent in love and self-giving, As a lever to prise open the heart of man to the awareness of mystery and to the glimpse of glory, both rooted in eternity, sexual love is one of God’s most efficient instruments. (188) 

The Christian Mind thinks supernaturally, aware of evil and grounded in the truth; it accepts authority and is centered on humans; it makes all things sacramental. This kind of think is sadly limited today. Even very intelligent Christians can lapse into secular thinking with the thought, “No one will accept arguments based on theology.” While this view holds some merit, it is unacceptable. If we cannot offer the world a Christian way of thinking about the issue facing society, we risk becoming just another clanging gong in a very noisy world.

The Universe Next Door by James W. Sire

 The Seven Worldview Questions

1. What is the nature of Ultimate Reality (or Truth)?​
2. What is the nature of material reality?
3. What is a human being?​
4. What happens to a person at death?
5. Why is it possible to know anything at all?​
6. How do we know what is right and wrong?​
7. What is the meaning of human history?​

I’ve been asking my students to use these questions when we analyze art for about as long as I’ve been teaching. I have no idea where I got this idea. I probably picked it up in one of the myriad resources I access all dealing with Classical Christian Education. Answering one or more of these questions seemed like a great way to look at a piece of great art.

And thus far, I’ve been happy with the results as my students are forced to look at a masterpiece and try to discern the artist’s message or other truths.

And yet, I now realize I was operating blind. After reading The Universe Next Door by James W. Sire, I can imagine a much fuller use of these central questions. Specifically, I am challenged to use these questions to analyze my own presuppositions. I am also challenged to use them to analyze my student’s assumptions. How often do we, as Christians, stray from orthodoxy because it “sounds about right”? Is it possible that what I, or my students, are claiming to be true is not, in fact, true?

The beauty of a Christian Theistic worldview is its insistence on absolute Truth. This worldview “teaches that not only is there a moral universe but there is an absolute standard by which all moral judgments are measured. God himself—his character of goodness (holiness and love)—is the standard” (p. 30). And yet, the pursuit of this absolute Truth can become difficult and at times, divisive. That’s where the Deistic Worldview enters. This view, so similar to Christian Theism, can tempt a believer with its simplicity and rationality. 

Our culture is awash in, what Sire calls, “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.” This belief posits a good and loving God who wants His creation to be happy. He does not need to be involved daily, per se, but is available when a problem arises. He promises Heaven to all the “good” people. He’s not at all demanding. He is love. This is so close to the mark, that the Christian can easily find himself slipping into this form of deism. It infuses our culture and shows up throughout social media. It’s in the “feel-good” and “uplifting” memes meant to bring hope and happiness to all.

And it’s easy to “like.”

As a Christian and a Christian educator, I must be on guard for this slippery thinking. Yes, God is love. Yes, God is good. He is available to us when we are challenged. Heaven does await His children. But our God also demands perfection, and barring that, has made a way where there seemed to be no way through the death of His Son. 

This brings up the additional eighth Worldview question not addressed earlier, “What personal, life-orienting core commitments are consistent with this worldview?” Sire answers this question, echoing the Westminster Catechism, “Christian theists live to seek first the kingdom of God, that is, to glorify God and enjoy Him forever” (p. 32). Our purpose on earth is not our own personal happiness. So often I can find myself falling into this mode. “God wants me to be happy.” That is not my purpose. My purpose is to glorify God and praise him for the grace and mercy He showed through His sacrifice on the cross. My happiness is incidental. His purpose for me is to mold and shape me into the likeness of the Son. 

Our students can be caught in this trap as well. For them, life is about good grades to get into a good college to get a good job to make a good living to live in a good house with a good family and surrounded by good stuff. This is happiness. But that is not happiness. That’s the lie of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. And our students are buying it. 

My job is to recognize and combat this lie, both in myself and in my students. True happiness is in pursuing God and becoming like Him. This is often painful. This is, at times, sublime. But it is, and should always be, the goal.

Although it is helpful to explore all the worldviews circulating in our world, for me, the value of this book is in its ability to shine a light on the areas where I find myself, and my students, most likely to err.