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.

Virgil Wander by Leif Enger

Our book club decided to read Virgil Wander by Leif Enger. He also wrote Peace Like a River, which we loved.

I thought this book was really sweet. 

It follows the life of Virgil Wander after he experiences a near-death crash into the ocean. He is saved by a witness and returns to his own life as a bit of an outsider looking in. 

A visitor to the small town, Rune, arrives flying kites and asking about the death of his newly discovered son, Alec. Because of Virgil's accident, he needs someone to watch over him while he recovers and Rune needs a place to stay. It's a perfect match. 

The small town is full of eclectic characters, none more so than the son of the founder, Adam. He comes off as slightly menacing, but we're not sure why. Regardless, a pattern of "bad things happen when he's around" starts to emerge. 

In the climax of the book, while the town faces a literal existential threat, Virgil and other townsfolk finally kill a giant sturgeon that's been terrorizing them. And suddenly both Adam and the threat disappear. It wasn't until I discussed the book with my book club that I even made that connection.

The book is a really enjoyable read. We definitely love getting to know the characters and the town itself. But if the connection is not made back to Adam and his family, the ending falls flat and feels very anti-climatic. Enger loves to introduce the supernatural and that's definitely woven in this book as in his other book, Peace Like a River. You just have to look for it.

 

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 Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

I'm developing a new-found respect for the theological seriousness of the Puritans. So when our book club proposed The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, I was excited to re-read it. (I think I read it as a kid.)

Although an allegory with names specifically designed to inform the reader of its allegorical qualities (Mr. Worldly-Wise, Ignorance, Christian), the story elucidates real, deep theological discussions. 

Christian has come to realize that his city is set for destruction and only by traveling to the Celestial City can he hope to be saved. Evangelist tells him the way to the path. In the end, it is a path he must travel alone, although he has companions at times. On the journey he meets all the classical temptations a Christian faces: Despair, Pleasure, Sloth.

Just when all seems lost, Christian is reminded of his journey and the good that awaits him. Ironically, just as he crosses the river into the Celestial City he experiences such deep doubt that he almost sinks. 

Bunyan is writing the story from prison. I suspect much of Christian's story is autobiographical. Perhaps Bunyan, close to death at times, experienced his own sinking doubt. 

The story is not an easy read, but well-worth reading. It can cause common obstacles in the life of a Christian to come alive.

The Beast that Crouches at the Door by Rabbi David Foreman

I've been listening to the BEMA podcast and they reference this book quite a bit, The Beast that Crouches at the Door by Rabbi David Foreman. Obviously I had to give it a try.

What a powerful book full of new insights!

It's written by a Jewish Rabbi, and so he grounds most of his teaching in the original Hebrew wording. Therefore most of his insights are not necessarily available to those of us who read the Bible in translation. 

Foreman dives in with a discussion of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (Notice the Tree of Life is  not off limits.). It seems self-evident that the knowledge of good and evil would be something valuable to have. But in Foreman's telling, before this knowledge was grasped, humans only knew "true" and "false" insofar as a thing lined up with the thinking of God. Now "good" (I like it) and "evil" (I don't like it) enter into the picture. We are suddenly conflicted. God says one thing is "good," but I think something else is "good." And didn't God put that desire in me in the first place? 

This leads to a discussion of the snake, who is called "crafty," or "naked." The snake is quite naked in his arguments. God said one thing, "Don't eat," but your desires say something else, "Eat." Which one takes precedence? The snake nakedly appeals to Eve's desire, even her desire to "be like God." We've been fighting this battle ever since. 

After the Fall, when God approaches man, He asks, "Where are you?" The understanding is not that God didn't know where they were located; it is that they were not where the were supposed to be (akin to "Where are all the good men?"). Foreman speculates that the reason Adam and Eve felt "naked" is because for the first time their desires are ruling their hearts rather than the Word of God. And that frightens them. Their own physical nakedness is no longer pure and innocent, but takes on a much darker tone.

This story of desire trumping all is paralleled in the story of Cain and Able. Once again, they are given a choice. Obey God or your desire. Although God did not ask for a sacrifice, Cain, whose name literally means "acquire," decides to offer God some of his produce, maybe in order to use (Hebrew "et") God for further blessing and the ability to acquire more. Able ("breath" or "vapor") chips in with his best. Seeing Cain's heart, God rejects his sacrifice. God responds to Cain's disappointment by telling him he has the same choice as his parents, respond in obedience or allow desire to take over. 

We all know how that story ended. 

God's punishment is three-fold: Cursed from the ground, no longer have access to the best, forced to wander and never be able to truly acquire. Cain acted as an animal, as the snake told Eve to do, and let his desire inspire murderous rashness. Now Cain would live an animalistic existence. Cain seems to recognize  that God has conscripted him to a life of a beast, and worries he will be killed by another. Interestingly the story replays itself in future generations with Jabal (almost the identical word for Able), and Tubal-Cain, who made weapons, thereby perfecting methods of killing. The Midrashes say Lamech killed Cain, mistaking him for a beast, thereby bringing the punishment on himself and avenging Able.

From there the story is a continuous repetition of man as a creating being, never knowing when to say "enough," always driven by his desire. 

This book offers so much more and is a fascinating read!

The Exodus You Almost Passed Over by Rabbi David Fohrman

After listening to the BEMA podcast on the Jewish understanding of the Torah, I decided to buy the book on which the lessons were based. I cannot stop raving about, The Exodus You Almost Passed Over by Rabbi David Fohrman. Fohrman is not a Christian, but takes Judaism and the Jewish perspective on the text very seriously. In doing so, he approaches the story from an "eastern" perspective in which one is invited to ask questions of the text and assume meaning only discovered through a deep dive.

He begins in a way which would never be taught in any Christian church and points out some obvious oddities about the story. Why didn't God just get the Israelites out through smiting all the Egyptians, blinding them while the Israelites escaped, or simply killing Pharaoh? Why did God go through the whole "Ten Plagues" thing at all? Fohrman quickly makes it clear that God was after much more than the freeing of the Israelite slaves; He wanted Pharaoh's heart. He wanted to show Pharaoh that He was a God above all other gods and give Pharaoh the opportunity to proclaim Him to the nations of the earth. He is the Creator/Father and we owe him both love and obedience. He is a God like nothing Pharaoh can even conceive. 

Fohrman suggests God had a Plan A, "The Easy Way," Pharaoh consents and the off the Israelites go, a Plan B, "The Hard Way," in which Pharaoh, eventually convinced of his own free will, recognizes who God is and submits to His call, or Plan C, "God's Will Prevails Despite Pharaoh." All of the plans would convince Pharaoh of who God is and all would lead to the "birth" of God's first-born (bechor). But in both Plan A and Plan B, Pharaoh would, of his own free-will come to understand God's loving and providential character and respond in a moral fashion by freeing his slaves. In Plan C, Pharaoh would be forced to free God's people, but would never relent of his stubborn refusal to recognize the Creator/Father God. 

The hardening of Pharaoh's heart begins early (Ex. 7:13). Moses and Aaron have just demonstrated their God-given ability to cast down their rods, which turn into snakes, and devour those of the Egyptian magicians. This should have been enough. The message was clear: One God to rule them all. But "Pharaoh's heart was hardened." Interestingly, Torah uses two Hebrew words for "harden." Chizuk halev refers to "strengthening" or giving yourself a pep-talk. This is what Pharaoh believes he is doing, strengthening his resolve to not listen to the prophets of Yahweh (YHVH). In the next verse, Scripture will reveal that God sees it as kibbud halev, simple stubbornness.

With each subsequent plague, God ups the ante. The first plague of water turning to blood is duplicated by Pharaoh's magicians. In Pharaoh's mind the ground rests on power and it's a tie. By stopping the plague of the frogs at a time of Pharaoh's choosing, God shows himself to be a God not only of power, but of precision. Pharaoh's Egyptian gods are capricious and random. In one overwhelmingly clear show, God reveals that he is both all-powerful AND precise. The plagues of gnats cannot be duplicated by Pharaoh's team and once again God demonstrates His power over all Egyptian gods. Yet Pharaoh, still believing he is in a power struggle chizuk halev's (courages) himself. In the fourth plague (known as either flies or wild animals) God not only says when, but where he will afflict the land. This level of precision is simply unknown in Pharaoh's world. As Pharaoh continues to strengthen his heart, God unleashed the plague of killing livestock. Yet this time God dictates the time, the place, and the ownership of the affected animals. This is an overwhelming show of godship in the ancient world. Pharaoh's only concern was to verify the precision of YHVH, while concluding with kibbud halev (stubborning) his heart. In the sixth plague of boils, God even takes out Pharaoh's magicians. No one can stand to support Pharaoh; he is all alone. Apparently this broke Pharaoh and God steps in to chizuk halev (courage) Pharaoh's heart. This hardening is often looked at as God forcing His will on Pharaoh. The opposite is true. God simply strengthens Pharaoh's heart to help him stay true to his own desire. 

For the next plague, God makes clear to Moses that he is going hard after Pharaoh's heart (9:15, "so that you [Pharaoh] may know that there is none like me in all the earth"). When the seventh plague of hail, a supernatural mixture of fire and ice, hits Pharaoh crosses a line and makes the fatal decision to both kibbud halev (stubborn) his denial of the lordship of YHVH and chizuk halev (courage) his position. He courages his own stubbornness. In verse 27 Pharaoh finally gets it. YHVH is not one of many gods. He is THE God. He is Father; He creates and parents. Like any parent He deserves gratitude and love. He demands justice. For the 1st time Pharaoh sees the contest in terms of morality, not power. No longer "Might makes right, but "Right makes might"! Yet by verse 34 we see his willful and conscious choice to spit in the face of the one he knows to be creator God. Pharaoh is incorrigible. 

This is where it shifts to Plan C. God will have his way despite Pharaoh. God hardens (chizuk halev) Pharaoh's heart and announces a new goal: the Israelites will KNOW He is God. In the Hebrew, God states in 10:2 that he will now "play with" Pharaoh, seeing as consent will never come. Chilling. In verse 3, God calls Pharaoh His "slave," intentionally pushing Pharaoh's last button. God knows this will cause Pharaoh, of his own free will, to retreat into his fortress of stubbornness. Pharaoh's grip on power is slipping as his servants beg him to call back Moses and Aaron to repent. Yet Moses twists the knife, allowing Pharaoh no face-saving way out, and contrasts the joy they anticipate in their feast to the Lord with Pharaohs total devastation. God used the completely free-will choice Pharaoh made to cling to his pride to harden his heart. Pharaoh thinks he is "winning" by denying God the recognition Pharaoh knows He deserves. 

As the final plague, the death of the firstborn approaches, Israel celebrates the first Passover. This is the night they choose to become the bechor. They will slaughter an animal considered a god by the Egyptians and very publicly paint their door frame with the blood. There is no turning back. The blood is not for identifying whose house to "pass over;" God has already shown Himself more than capable of preserving His people. The blood is the very public acceptance of God's offer. This night, as they pass through a bloody opening, they will be "born again" as God's first born.

Although this part of the book fascinated me, the second half opens another door to understanding this text. As the Israelites prepare to depart, Ex. 14:4 states, "I will get glory over Pharaoh." Does the text indicated God will showboat in his victory. No. Rather Fohrman reminds the reader of an earlier Pharaoh and an earlier trek by the Israelites. He returns to the story of Joseph hundreds of years earlier. At the time of his brothers' betrayal, Joseph may have wondered why his father never came to rescue him. He had no idea that his father thought him dead and mourned for years over the loss. By the time Joseph is reunited with his family, he has made a close connection with his Pharaoh and it stands to reason that Jacob may have worried Joseph no longer considered him his father. When Jacob blesses Joseph's sons and calls them his very own, just before his death, he requests that Joseph carry his body back to the Promised Land. This is a tough ask as Joseph will have to basically declare his loyalty to his own family over his adopted Egyptian father. But Joseph does it, and the kind and loving Pharaoh, along with the whole nation, not only grieves the death of Jacob, he sends Joseph off with a retinue of soldiers and singers all praising the dead patriarch, the father. Then Joseph and his family return.

Fohrman posits that Plan A involved much the same thing. God asks Pharaoh to allow his people three days in the desert in order to see if Pharaoh was made of the same stuff as his ancestor (of course God knew and foretold from the beginning that Pharaoh would fail). Since ultimately God shifted into (what looks like from our perspective) Plan C, God would still have His glorious send-off. The army and the horses would still accompany the Israelites, but this time under duress. God would get his due. Only this time the Israelites did not return. Pharaoh lost everything. His intentional refusal to worship the God who created him led to his downfall. 

Since God's original plan that Pharaoh would acknowledge His Lordship and proclaim Him to the world did not take place, Fohrman suggests there is still work to do. It is now our job to do what Pharaoh failed to do: Proclaim the name of the Lord.

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. 

 

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. 

 

 

The Christian Philosophy of Education Explained by Stephen C. Perks

Although I generally know and believe that a Classical, Christian, education is better than a Classical education bereft of theological backing, The Christian Philosophy of Education Explained by Stephen C. Perks sealed it for me.

 It goes back to how we can know anything at all. “For the Christian, therefore, the ultimate locus of rationality and intelligibility is the God of Scripture and thus man, if he is to know anything truly, must, as God’s creature, created in His image, ‘think God’s thoughts after Him,' to use the words of Cornelius Van Til.” (16) If no actual knowledge is possible apart from the recognition of God and His Word, then Classical education, by itself, cannot lead to actual knowledge. Only a Christ-centered education can do that.

 

Apart from the Christian aspect of education, education has no real or lasting purpose. “The aim of education is thus to promote maturation in the image of God, and it is the duty of Christian parents to care for the child, mould his character and discipline him in terms of God’s purpose for his life.” (italics in the original) (39) Our cultural, with its emphasis on rationality and empiricism, has made education an idol whose purpose is to mold and shape the child in its image. Christians must see the true purpose of education and act accordingly.

 

Since God has a plan for the child, he must be educated in such a way that prepares him to take his place as a “viceregent over the earth, governing all things under his authority according to God’s word, proclaiming the sovereign word of God in all things, and bringing all things into subjection to Christ.” (78) No education that fails to prepare a child for this God-given role should actually be regarded as “education.” With such an awe-inspiring duty, and such a magnificent responsibility to prepare for, can an education that sees its main goal as creating “college and career ready” young adults even be worthy of the name? Only an education focusing on equipping children for the role God plans for them is sufficient.

 

Seeing as we are called to govern the world under Christ, it must be the case that we see the world in the way God sees it. “It is vitally important that in every subject and at every level this learning process should presuppose the God-created and God-interpreted nature of reality, and that it should be pursued in terms of godly principles of thought and action throughout.” (89) A secular education, even a secular Classical education simply cannot demand the world be seen through the eyes of God by the student. Even the best Classical schools, modeled on, but not governed by Christian principles, cannot present the world as “God-created.” They cannot promote the “God-interpreted nature of reality.” They may try to, at first. But over time, without a recurrence to the Word of God and His thoughts, a Classical school, will, by necessity eventually abandon its commitment to first principles. Without regeneration, secular education has no leg to stand on. 

 

All of us, believer and non-believer alike, will serve someone. Our choice is not between servitude and freedom but whom we will serve. It is the Son alone who sets free. Choosing a secular education, devoid of Christian principles and epistemology, sets a student up for slavery to himself and the world. “Man is to rule over nature and serve God thereby. His true freedom consists in the fulfilling of his God-created purpose in life, and this is only possible as he submits to God in obedience.” (107) This truth simply cannot be communicated in a secular educational environment.

 

Perks ends the book with a powerful summation:

 

It is the Christian’s duty to educate his children in the Christian faith for dominion, for the shouldering of man's creation mandate to bring the whole earth into subjection to himself as God's steward and vicegerent on earth, and thus into subjection to God and His word. This necessitates a Christian culture and the building of Christian civilization, and this in turn necessitates a Christian, covenantal, dominion oriented philosophy and practice of education. (116)

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken is one of the treasure trove of books left to us by Regan when she went to Vietnam. Not only is it a book she read, but she annotated it! When reading it, along with her notes, it feels almost as if we are reading the book together! 

For some reason, I thought the book was written by Dorothy Sayers and it was connected to C.S. Lewis in some way. I was obviously wrong about the first part but right about the second. The beauty of the Lewis connection is that Sheldon was friends with Lewis and includes multiple correspondences throughout the book. One need not wonder how Lewis would respond to the trial and travails of the couple, we get his responses in real time. 

The book details the love story of the "pagan" Sheldon and Jean, usually called Van and Davy. Their love began with great intensity and they quickly dedicated their lives to the building of a "Shining Barrier" which would protect and maintain their "inloveness." When conflict arose, they would make an "Appeal to Love." This appeal asked what course would best protect and maintain that love. 

I will admit that initially this dedications to "inloveness" left me feeling like a failure in my own marriage. We have no "Shining Barrier." We make no "Appeal to Love" on a regular basis. Neither to we do regular check-ups on our love as did Van and Davy. We just live. Although I did have a vague sense that maybe this dedication was problematic, especially when they pledges suicide should one die before the other. Additionally they decided not to have children so that nothing would come between them. At that point, it became clear that while love and dedication to it is admirable, it can become its own form of idolatry.

Apparently God agreed. We find out early on that Davy died ten years into the marriage. Exactly how is not specified and so with each circumstance that could possibly result in her death we are left to wonder, "Is this it?" Yet she doesn't die until the end and we are definitely prepared. At one point, although physically healthy, she senses an impending death. She begs God for one more year, which He grants, to the day. She trades her life for Van's salvation. 

Initially not only skeptical of Christianity but openly hostile to its "folly," Van and Davy are perfectly happy worshipping beauty, especially as embodied in their love. They eventually find their way to Oxford, and it is here they develop friendships with serious and respectable Christians. Both had earlier felt a strange sense that they should give Christianity a serious look and this seems the opportunity. After diving in, starting with Lewis' Mere Christianity, both eventually accept it as true. Davy first. Van, however, struggles with making the leap of faith. Finally, he realizes he has come to far to go back. In his letters with Lewis, he realizes that before, knowing nothing about Christianity or its claims, he could dismiss it as myths and fairy tales for the ignorant. Now he know better. He knows Christ offers the answers he is looking for. He feels himself on a precipice. The gulf behind, that is to go back, is too large. He knows too much. The gulf ahead, that is to believe Jesus is God, is comparatively smaller. He prays, "I believe. Help my unbelief." And makes the leap. 

Yet Davy, who embraced Christ with her whole being as her Lord and Savior, quickly outpaces him on the spiritual journey. He finds himself uncomfortable with her newfound Love. God has breached the Shining Barrier. All Appeals to Love must include Him, first and foremost. Appeals to Love no longer means their love, it means their love for God. He watches, as an outsider, her increasing devotion. For a time, a friend who is much like Davy used to be, committed to beauty and poetry and nature, becomes a temptation. Loathe to admit it, he feels himself falling in love with her because she represents a return to the way things used to be.

Then Davy gets sick. All thoughts of the "other" are abandoned as he pledges his life for hers. He dedicates himself to bearing her burden and doing all he can to save her. God takes her anyway.

In the deep contemplation Van goes through after her death, accompanied as always by Lewis' input, he eventually comes to the conclusion that her death was a "severe mercy." He realizes that had Davy survived one of three things would have happened: 1. He would have joined her in the total commitment she demonstrated. But probably not. 2. He would have tried to subtly nudged her away from her devotion and would probably have succeeded. 3. He would have allowed his (unacknowledged until this point) jealousy of God to overwhelm him, and he would have hated her or God or both. Number three seemed the likeliest option. He realized that God, in His mercy, allowed Davy to die, thereby preserving their love in Heaven, so that their love on earth would not die. This realization takes years and a lot of struggle, but in the end he is grateful for that mercy most severe. 

Along the way we experience, along with Van, the beauty God is lavishing on them. After Lewis points out that at the end of our lives, we can see that our life was always a glimpse of Heaven or a glimpse of Hell, Van looks for, and finds, those glimpses of Heaven. He begins the book with his first encounter with beauty. Speaking initially in third person, he says,

And of course beauty: the beauty that was for him the link between the ships and the woods and the poems. He remembered as though it were but a few days ago that winter night, himself too young even to know the meaning of beauty, when he had looked up at a delicate tracery of bare black branches against the icy glittering stars: suddenly something that was, all at once, pain and longing for and adoring had welled up in him, almost choking him. He had wanted to tell someone, but he had no words, inarticulate in the pain and glory. It was long afterwards that he realised that it had been his first aesthetic experience, That nameless something that had stopped his heart was Beauty. Even now, for him, "bare branches against the stars" was a synonym for beauty.

He later comes to realize this desire for beauty and timelessness is nothing more than the desire for eternity. God was calling.

Another fascinating part of the book is the theological discussions happening along the way. At one point, Davy and Van are able to describe the Trinity in a way that's quite revealing. Van begins by likening God the Father to God the Incarnate Son as an author to writing himself as a character into his novel. So while the author remains distinct from himself in the novel, nevertheless they are the same person. In the same way, any characters written into the novel also embody parts of the author. Davy compares this to the Holy Spirit. Just as the spirit of the author pervades the book, so does the Holy Spirit pervade God's people. This was a particularly powerful way to demonstrate a concept that is, quite frankly, beyond our reach. 

Overall, I loved the book. His insights are bought at the highest price. I love that C. S. Lewis is looking over Van's shoulder through the whole adventure. Beauty, eternity, love. 

 

Bad Religion by Ross Douthat

I received Bad Religion by Ross Douthat as a gift. It was on the list of books I keep that someone, somewhere recommended. I have no idea where I got this recommendation, but I'm so glad I did. It's an excellent book on the history of American Christianity. Its real value is in putting the current moment into perspective.

As American Christians, it's very easy to believe that how we "do" Christianity here is not only how it's always been done, but how it should be done. Yet neither is true.

Douthat begins in the so-called "golden years" of American Christianity in the mid-twentieth century. This was a time of growing acceptance of orthodox Christianity in all realms of society–spiritual, economic, and political. Yet even at this time, cracks existed. 

"True golden ages do not exist. Martin Luther King was a Christian hero, but he was also a reckless adulterer whose academic work was partially ghostwritten. The neo-orthodox theologians did a brilliant job of making the Christian intellectual framework intelligible to a secular audience, but they also frequently seemed to purposefully dance around some of the most important–and necessarily controversial–issues of Christian faith. (Martin Gardner's 1971 novel-of-ideas, The Flight of Peter Fromm, The Flight of Peter Fromm, features a young seminarian driven mad by Reinhold Niebuhr's evasiveness on supernatural questions...) (p. 51)

But by the late 1960s a remarkable thing occurred. Churches stopped growing. Americans continued to grow religiously, but not in the orthodox tradition. "Heretics carried the day completely." (p. 64) A New Age spirituality gripped the nation. Somehow Christianity lost its reputation for transcendence and became out of fashion. 

How would the Church respond? Would it seek to accommodate and synchronize with the spirit of the times or would it double-down on the basic tenets of the faith? Both. 

"The first approach would seek to forge a new Christianity more consonant with the spirit of the age, one better adapted to the trends that were undercutting orthodoxy. The latter would follow William F. Buckley's maxim and stand athwart religious history yelling "Stop!" The first approach would attempt to sustain Christianity's midcentury reconciliation with Western liberalism by adapting itself to the changing cultural circumstances. The second would break decisively with the revolutionary mood in American society and identify Christianity with cultural conservatism." (p. 81)

It's easy to imagine where this ended up. The liberal faction did a great job of embracing and modeling the love of Christ. It just set aside the judgment for sin embodied in Christ. In the process of all love and acceptance and no need for devotion or self-sacrifice, the Church made itself irrelevant. Who needs church when one could just accept everyone for what they were and sleep in on Sundays? On the other end was a resistance movement dedicated to fighting the excesses of the liberal establishment. The mainline churches lost members in droves while more conservative off-shoots and "para-church" organizations rapidly gained ground. Unfortunately with no oversight or hierarchal structure to hold them accountable, these groups easily strayed from orthodoxy as well. The evangelical movement became conflated with conservative politics. Young people, who did not want to identify with the Republican Party, yet desiring to retain a form of faith, departed into a more cafeteria-style religion, clinging to the attractive parts and discarding the uncomfortable.  

For some, the discovery of "lost gospels" provided a new and interesting take on Jesus. Many could claim access to secret or hidden knowledge. The Divinci Code perfectly embodied the desire to forge a new brand of Christianity that could withstand the disdain many felt for the strictures of orthodoxy and its call for repentance. Mainline churches were irrelevant. Evangelical churches were too judgmental. The "lost gospels" provided an opportunity to forge your own Jesus. This appealed to the high-brow and intellectuals among believers.

But for the other half of America, something else was needed to tap into a different deeply felt need. Enter "Pray and Grow Rich." Joel Osteen and his Best Life Now perfectly filled a need for those feeling left behind in a culture increasingly exposed to "the risks and shocks of commerce and competition" (p. 202). As an added benefit, it could appeal to the rich by justifying their gain–God was blessing them for their righteous living. This transactional religion could also boast of melding perfectly with the American Dream. Work hard, "invest" in the cause, sit back and wait for the returns. 

Once again the pendulum swung. Reacting to the brash materialism and commercialism of the prosperity gospel, Americans decided to turn to self-discovery and a connection with the transcendent that had no rules or rituals. It had one god–the god within. This god dwells within your being and coincidentally agrees with you in every respect. Gone are the hierarchies, and the rules, and the calls to sacrifice yourself for the Kingdom of God. The god within only demands that you stay true to your authentic self. As Elizabeth Gilbert modeled for us in her best-seller Pray, Eat, Love, we must search for that voice within ourselves that speaks in the most authentic us-ness possible. The god is there, waiting to be discovered. If that involves leaving a spouse (as she did), so be it. "You do you" replaces "Do unto others..." Unfortunately "I as god" tends to lead to isolation and unhappiness. Who knew? (Jesus. Jesus knew.) Cue rise of the therapeutic culture.

As it will, reactions to this heretical form of Christianity took the religion in the opposite direction. Beginning with the Tea Party and continuing to MAGA country, Christians intertwined patriotism and an infallible narrative with the gospel itself. Jesus didn't mean for you to be rich, a la the prosperity gospel, Jesus meant for you to be a Republican and 'Merica. While America has beautiful, biblical values upon which it was founded, America, and American politicians, can never be the Savior. America is simultaneously experiencing a fear of the Apocalypse (if the the wrong people are elected), and a rabid embrace of a messianic figure who can save us from destruction. Both positions cause harm to Christianity and the country in general. 

While it is true that America has been a force for good and that it has always been an experiment that can fail, the true Hope lies in the gospel message of Christianity. Douthat states:

In our nation's better moments, Christianity has been intimately involved in American politics while standing somewhat apart from partisanship, summoning the country to reform without falling victim to the conceit that political reform is religion's only purpose. At their most robustand independent, our churches and religious leaders have reminded us that America is only almost chosen, and that paradise isn't possible on earth. In our finer hours, orthodoxy's universalism has been potent enough to temper nationalism in both its apocalyptic and messianic manifestations.

But we do not inhabit such an hour today.

In the end, Douthat doesn't really have a good answer for all this back-and-forth. Obviously he advocates a return to orthodoxy. He wants an embrace of the sacramental and beautiful. He calls the church to return to her mission of drawing the world to God through Christ and His death and resurrection. He mentions the Emergent Church movement as a possible source of renewal. Unfortunately since the book has been written, that segment of Christianity has proven liable to pastor-worship and heresy. 

Personally, I think the solution lies in small, gospel-centered, worship-driven churches. Churches that ask much and offer much in return. A church focused on Jesus and his call to be perfect while offering a radical form of grace and forgiveness. A church that loves all, embraces all, welcomes all, but seeks to pull all up out of the natural fallen state of humanity into a glorious life of ongoing sanctification. The Church must strip away all the accruements that hinder the simplicity of the gospel message: You are a sinner in need of a Savior. You cannot save yourself. Jesus loves you so much that He willingly and at great cost took on that role. Surrender to Him and His call to be perfect is your only option. Welcome to the family. You are loved. 

Anything that replaces or amends that message is heresy. It will not lead to Jesus. It will lead to Bad Religion. 

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

Everyone has to read Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, once. I feel like a horrible person for saying that I didn't love it. It's VERY long. Way too long. Hugo describes the Battle of Waterloo in real time. He delights in describing the smallest details. Unfortunately, for me, that was a distraction that did not add to the story.

Obviously the main story is great. Jean Valjean's fall, rise, and fall are the reason the book touches so many. The interweaving stories of Fantine, Inspector Javert, and Collette point to so many big themes of redemption, mercy, and justice. 

If the book was about half as long, I know I'd love it. I hate that the details caused me to get so bogged down. 

 

Excused Absence by Douglas Wilson

 Excused Absence by Douglas Wilson asks the question, "Should Christian kids leave public schools?" He answers it with a resounding, "Yes." As Martin Olasky points out in the Forward, "When God is excluded from the classroom, we are not merely remaining silent about God. We are teaching children that they may safely disregard Him" (11). It is this "disregard" of God that proves fatal to public education. Not only can public schools not acknowledge God, they are incapable of acknowledging the truth about human nature and even truth in general. For this reason, secular education will always fail. 

Wilson begins by making the case that all schools are religious schools. Being public simply means they are teaching a religion that is not Christian. But they are teaching a religion. Education itself is predicated on transmitting values and beliefs to the young. Public schools may not be teaching Christian values and beliefs, but they are teaching values and beliefs. 

Wilson then proceeds to go through the history of public schools to show exactly how we got here. Although America was initially peopled by those with a strong faith, it did not take long for Christianity itself, as practiced in the colonial period, to devolve into a universalist, humanistic theology. While the early schools were explicitly "Christian," they embodied a form of Christianity which "bore no fundamental difference" between it and secular humanism (23).

This implies the problem began, not with schools, but in the home. Wilson blames "countless acts of disobedience in the living room and around the dinner table" for the godlessness of schools (31). Failing to practice "covenantal headship," the people allowed the schools to become places in open rebellion against God. He goes on to state, "If government schools reject the revealed character of God in the Bible as the basis for the ethical instruction they provide to children, then the  only option open to them is to teach on the basis of the character of their new god, demos (the people)" (44). It is at this point that schools became incapable of teaching the good, the true, and the beautiful; without God, none of that is truly accessible. The people, in their failure to repent and practice godly parenting, are reaping what they sowed.

Wilson emphatically states, "Only a Christian education can provide a standard for fixed and absolute truth, and only a biblical course of instruction can set a standard for distinguishing right from wrong" (49).  But once again, Wilson makes clear this begins in the home. Parents must be marked by their own character and courage. True education begins with godly parents instilling their beliefs and values in their children. He quotes the Shema in Deuteronomy 6 as the model for parents (58). Children are to hear the word of the Lord when they sit, stand, walk, lie down, and rise up. The Word should be on the door posts as they go enter and exit. It should encompass the totality of a child's life. Without a Christian education, this is simply impossible.

Christian parents must wake up. "The big lie is that education can be 'religion-neutral'" (67). Yet education is simply "the processor learning how to think God's thoughts after Him" (68). An education which fails to make it clear that our job is to discover what God has already declared "true," is an education based on a false idol. As a society, we are reaping the results of our rebellion. God uses our godless rulers to bring us to repentance. We miss out on blessings, we see a rise in "unnatural passions", we become victims to crime and bad laws, we embrace relativity and cannot experience the joys of men and women serving in their God-given roles. But hope is always at hand. Repent. 

Finally, Wilson addresses some common objections: many Christians were raised in government schools and they are fine, Christian schools are expensive, religion is part of the spiritual sphere of "home" and education falls under the physical realm, a child may be mature enough in his faith to handle it, the local Christian school does not have an adequate athletics program, other adult influences are not Christian, the children require special programs not offered at the Christian school, Chistian school is not "cool," and many of the teachers in the public school are Christians themselves. One by one Wilson demolishes these arguments. Time and again he brings it back to the Lordship of Christ. Either Jesus is Lord and we submit or He is not and we don't. 

Wilson ends with his prescription for Classical, Christian education. He believes this model fully incorporates the kind of education outlined in Scripture. He gives advice for the practicalities of this kind of school. He offers advice on pitfalls to avoid. Overall, Wilson makes a solid case for avoiding government schools and educating children according to the precept found in the Word and embodied in Classical, Christian education. 

Life with a Capital L by Matt Heard

My headmaster, Mr. Hinton, asked the staff to read Life with a Capital L by Matt Heard over the summer. He wanted us to reflect on the ways we can lead with love when it comes to our students. Then he asked our brand new Seminar team to lead the discussion. 

Talk about trial by fire!

The book begins with a discussion of a painting Calle There is Life Everywhere by Nikolai Yaroshenko. The painting depicts several people trapped in a train freight car marveling at the birds eating just outside the barred window. Yet on the other side of the car, another cellmate looks out the opposite window, apparently heedless of the life just outside the car. 

Heard uses this painting as a discussion jumping off point: Even in the midst of extreme hardship, life and love remain. 

To begin, Heard defines what it means to be human: “My humanity is my capacity to embrace the significance of my existence – and yours – as images of God in his creation” (10). This understanding definitionally puts us into relationship with others in order to be fully human. 

As humans, formed for relationship, we experience a deep longing: “My longing can serve as a connection, a sort of breadcrumb trail that I can follow as I’m orienting myself toward Home. In my deepest longings I can gain clues regarding who I am in the universe” (25). As C.S. Lewis says, we long for something eternal that can only be satisfied by the eternal.

Yet we can easily use that sense of longing in a pursuit of inferior objects: “A superficial and therefore short-circuited engagement with my longings leads to a superficial and therefore short-circuited engagement with the gospel...A more substantive engagement with my longings has to be accompanied by an authentic, substantive engagement with the gospel” (33-34). Jesus message of Good News must center our deepest longings.

Yet even this focus on the eternal can lead us astray: “Something is dreadfully awry with the ways too many of us minimize and reduce the gospel: Receive forgiveness. Gain heaven. Behave morally in the meantime. Subscribe to a doctrinal statement. Go to church. Tell others about him” (47). We can and must begin that eternal life NOW.

The doorway to that life is Grace. To enter true eternal life we must come to recognize the grace that God does out extravagantly: "Grace is God lovingly giving me what I need instead of what I deserve. It's God lavishly giving me what I long for but not necessarily all that I think I want" (56).Truly understanding and living in gratitude for that grace allows us to enter in to the feast that life is meant to be.

Living Life with a Capital L richly rewards us in the here and now. We experience freedom: "If I'm going to actually experience freedom, I've got to learn to pursue Life by practicing righteousness--learning to walk righteously. That will involve--drum roll here--obedience" (83). Not obedience to human-made rules--that's legalism--but obedience to God's commands as a response in gratitude. Our rebellion to God creates our own prisons. Only obedience to God frees us.

We also gain protection for our hearts. Lewis describes "Men without chests." These are people governed by minds and bellies. "Full humanity means an engaged heart. An engaged heart means I am actively balancing my mind and my emotions, which will activate my will in a healthy way" (94).

We can truly appreciate beauty. "Beauty speaks to me, sings to me, welcomes me and summons me into the presence of something that is life saving, life affirming, and life giving" (107). True beauty points to the divine. All other forms of "beauty" are counterfeits designed to lead us away from Him. Life with a Capital L points towards God and therefore towards beauty. And beauty os the portal to abundant life.

We gain illumination. We naturally live in the dark. But the Word "is a lamp unto our feet." Jesus is that light, and that light shows me how to be fully human.

Our lives become part of bigger story. Our society is one of atomized humans each acting in his own story. We lack connections to anything greater than ourselves. But the gospel-centered life connects us with God's glory. We become "men and women who, with the turn of every page of their stories, discover new paragraphs of purpose as they echo God's significance and experience his enoughness in the drama of their everyday lives" (143).

We experience true worship. "Every activity of my life--my vocational calling, my recreation, my relation. ships, my education, my sacrificial service, and my communication of gospel hope. people whom God places in my life, even my intentional rest--every endeavor be comes a way of acknowledging God's worth in my life (156).

We learn to give life a way and truly love. "At any given moment, everyone of us is predominately more a bucket or ap pipe. I call it plumbing theology" (164). We are either bottling up God's love or we are a conduit. Living Life with a Capital L allows us to channel that love through ourselves and towards others, thereby experiencing more love ourselves. Oftentimes, "we're not enjoying Life or loving others as well as we could because we're not experiencing God's love as fully as we could" (170). Be a pipe.

We experience time in a new way. Psalms says, “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom”(90:13). We often move through our days with little reflection or understanding of the gift that we have been given. “The average human looks without seeing, listens without hearing, touches without feeling, eats without tasting, moves without physical awareness, inhales without awareness of odor or fragrance, and talks without thinking.” (Leonardo da Vinci). But a life lived in appreciation of the grace that has been given shifts our focus and time becomes the gift it was always meant to be.

And yet we are broken. Living Life with a Capital L redeems and makes room for that brokenness. “In the echo of explosions along our journey, it’s tempting to forget that Life with a capital L actually unfolds in the midst of the land of the shadow of death. It’s a place where broken hopes and shattered dreams happen more often than we could ever be comfortable with” (199). We can experience the redemption only the broken can participate in. And we can extend that grace to others.

We can live in the shadow of heaven. As Lewis so eloquently state, “There have been times when I think we do not desire heaven; but more often I find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else... It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our [spouse] or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work” (216). Heaven is the ultimate form of life lived with a capital L. And as we live that way on earth, we reach our hands towards heaven.

This book is a sweet and beautiful reminder of the goodness of God. Told largely through stories, it is an easy read but a difficult journey. Life with a Capital L is the "abundant life" promised by Christ. And it is ours if we desire it.