This post was written by Randy Newman on December 2, 2008
Last week, November 29th, was C.S. Lewis’ birthday. I hope this news brings you as much joy as it does to me.
Lewis continues to inspire me through his writing and motivates me to encourage those who love the life of the mind.
Here are three observations I have about my own experiences of reading Lewis. I hope you’ll want to join me in the lifelong goal of reading everything the man wrote.
First, to read C.S. Lewis is to experience verbal delight. He writes so well that one engages both with the content conveyed and the words employed. I can’t help but smile at sentences which are crafted by such a skilled artisan.
Consider this line from the introduction of The Screwtape Letters. After stating that we could make two mistakes regarding demons - one to disbelieve and the other to show too much interest - he adds, “They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.”
He grieved over our culture’s declining use of language and saw it as far more serious than stylistic evolution. In “The Death of Words” he demonstrated how certain words stopped meaning what they originally meant and eventually ended up meaning nothing at all. The word “gentleman” once meant someone who owned land. Later it took on a qualitative sense of someone who was polite. Eventually it simply meant someone who wasn’t a woman. The problem is that we already have a word for “man.” “Gentleman” no longer means anything different from someone of the masculine gender.
The case is far more serious with the word “Christian.” That word once had a precise theologically restricted use. Later it came to mean something like “nice.” Now it means nothing. Lewis presses the point to establish the reason this should bother us so much: “Men do not long continue to think what they have forgotten how to say” he warned. His words have proven prophetic.
Second, to read Lewis is to be constantly reminded that we are meant for another world. He used to love to talk of “joy” or “longing” or “Sehnsucht.” It may have been his most frequently expressed theme. He defined it as “an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.” In perhaps his fullest treatment of the idea, the essay “The Weight of Glory,” he says:
Apparently, then, our lifelong nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we now feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside, is no mere neurotic fancy, but the truest index of our real situation. And to be at last summoned inside would be both glory and honour beyond all our merits and also the healing of that old ache.
Finally, to read Lewis is to be pointed to the cross and to feel a sense of awe at the goodness of God displayed at Calvary. We spend so much energy defending our faith - arguing, proving, reasoning, declaring - that it is true, that we sometimes lose sight of the fact that it is also good. I sometimes find myself saying, “Oh, yes. That’s right. The gospel is so very good!” when reading Lewis. He turns many internal dialogues from reason to appreciation, from agreement to adoration.
In one of his “Letters to Malcolm,” he wrote, “Gratitude exclaims, very properly, “How good of God to give me this.” Adoration says, “What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscations are like this!” One’s mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun.”
(Did you stumble on the word “coruscations?” It means “a flash of light.” He could have said it more simply. But, perhaps, he wanted to rescue a word from the brink of death…or maybe he wanted to add some delight to his readers’ experience! For whatever reason, the quote makes me smile and praise our God.)
I hope you’ll find some time to celebrate this day. Pick a short essay of Lewis’ and read it. See if you don’t smile along the way.
This post was written by Randy Newman on November 3, 2008
A friend recently introduced me to the poetry of Billy Collins. Do you know his work? Collins was Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003. He has also served as a professor of English at Lehman College of the City University of New York. In a world where poetry seems to be slipping into obscurity (for many people, that is), Billy Collins’ poems offer hope for a renaissance of this beautiful art form. His poems are accessible even for those with little or no experience with verse.
Now, before you hit the “back” button on your browser or click on another webpage, please consider that poetry may serve even the non-poetical among us. All academicians employ words as the basic tools of their trade. We can learn much from poets who pay attention to the sound, feel, and taste of every syllable.
In particular, Collins’ poems are filled with similes and comparisons that bring old experiences or concepts or thoughts into new light. Making apt comparisons has always been a great didactic device. Collins is a master at it. He also reflects regularly on the discipline and craft of writing poetry, which I find helps me think more clearly about the work God calls me to do on a daily basis.
Consider:
The birds are in their trees,
the toast is in the toaster,
and the poets are at their windows.
They are at their windows
in every section of the tangerine of earth-
(from Monday)
or again:
the trouble with poetry is
that it encourages the writing of more poetry,
more guppies crowding the fish tank,
more baby rabbits
hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.
And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world.
(from The Trouble with Poetry)
You can read that entire poem here.
We’re constantly bombarded with words—overwhelmingly so. After a while it feels like we’re force-fed at an endless buffet of bland food. Taking a few moments to savor some poetry offers a gourmet alternative. When I’m taking in a steady diet of poetry, I choose the words I say more carefully. I listen to others’ words more intently. And I enjoy both sides of the dialogue more fully. For Christians who want to “love our neighbors,” a more carefully inclined ear and a more attentive demeanor can help us with that lifelong ministry.
In his very helpful book, Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness, author Joshua Wolf Shenk tells us that Lincoln read, memorized, and recited poetry as an antidote to his dark moods. I know several academicians who could benefit from that same prescription.
Billy Collins may prove helpful to you in this way. Or he may help you use words to greater effect. Or he may just offer you a nice break from that
barrage of words you’re needing to plow through.
This post was written by Randy Newman on August 18, 2008
People with PhD’s in one field often get asked their opinions about things in just about every other field. This seems to be especially true at church. If you’re a professor in physics, you may get asked to teach Sunday school. You’re a teacher, after all. Most professors I know don’t fall into the trap of thinking they’re wise in all fields just because they’re highly educated in one.
Nevertheless, the questions will come. If you haven’t been asked already, I would guess it’s only a matter of time before someone asks you if you’ve read The Shack and they’ll want to know what you think of it.
Written by a businessman who simply wanted to explain to his children what kind of spiritual odyssey he’d been on for the previous 11 years, The Shack has become a publishing phenomenon with sales in the millions and devotees buying the book by the caseload to give to anyone and everyone they know.
Another thing I know about professors is that they’ve got too much to read. So, let me save you a little bit of time. You don’t need to read this book. It’s poorly written, theologically subversive, and ultimately profoundly unhelpful for people who may seem to find comfort or aid in the short run. You can find a very thorough (17 pages!) examination of the theological issues and other aspects of the book linked here to the very fine website The Discerning Reader (be sure to read the pdf version).
For our purposes here at Antecedents, I’ll tell you that certain theological issues have been considered complex and difficult for one very significant reason: they are complex and difficult. The reason the church, for the past 2000 years, has wrestled with the doctrine of the Trinity, the purpose and results of the atonement, and the nature of divine revelation is because those topics are multifaceted and loaded with implications for the living out of faith in Christ.
When people throughout history have sought to simplify the Trinity or tame the atonement or minimize the authority of scripture, the results have been disastrous – with long-term legacies of impotent churches, damaged lives, and abandoned missions and evangelism programs.
Yes, I am aware of the strength of language I’m choosing for this blog. I believe the book is that harmful. And the fact that so many evangelical Christians miss the implications or downright displays of heresy is terribly disturbing.
To be sure, there are some things Young gets right and there are parts that can help people forgive or move past offense. But the negatives far outweigh any positives.
Here’s just one example – the issue of subordination. Contrary to what William P. Young writes in his book, there is subordination within the Trinity. The Father is not submissive to the Son. Most blatant of all, the Trinity is not submissive to us! This does make a difference and, again, a brief look at the church’s history of doctrinal teaching will show you where these kinds of reworked theology have led.
Many people defend the book by saying, “It’s only a novel. Give it a good-faith reading.” This doesn’t hold. Sure, it’s a novel. But it’s a novel with a very clear agenda – to state theological truths that can help people overcome pain, abuse, or tragedy. What I am saying is that it does indeed communicate a theology – one that is harmful not helpful, subversive not substantial, and ultimately, one that may lead people to embrace a god who really will not give them long-term comfort or strength.
A review in Christianity Today identified the author as one “who’s made peace with God about his past, but is still not at peace with the church.” Unfortunately, the god he’s made peace with is not the God of the Bible. As a result, I doubt he’ll ever make peace with the church that worships that God.
The CT editorial urges us to not “pounce on theological errors without first taking the time to understand the story behind them.” Fair enough. Pouncing never reflects the grace of the gospel and I do admit that much that has been written about this book and other issues is far from charitable. I think I do understand the story (I tried to read it as thoroughly as I could) and I think it provides a very different answer than the Biblical gospel.
The fact remains that our friends and others who have experienced tragedy or been subjected to abuse or been treated cruelly by the church need something much better than what is offered to them in The Shack. Interestingly, many people in those kinds of situations have not resorted to rewriting orthodox theology.
Joni Earickson Tada’s many writings are theologically rich and orthodox and have helped people find the Triune God who is simultaneously holy (and therefore wrathful towards sin – something The Shack denies) and loving (far more than the “Trinity” William Young creates) and atoning. Gerald Sittser’s A Grace Disguised clings to the truth of Scripture as he tells of the car accident that tragically took the lives of his mother, wife, and daughter. (Buy that book by the caseload!). Jonathan Edwards got fired from his church after serving it sacrificially for many years. He didn’t rewrite his theology to make sense of his mistreatment.
We would do far better to offer our struggling, suffering, or abused friends some of the writings of authors like these instead of The Shack.
This post was written by Patrick Rist on December 11, 2007
When one hears all the shrill, alarmist language from some quarters of Christendom concerning a movie like The Golden Compass, some of us may be tempted to respond with a, “C’mon, is it that bad?”
This is understandable, considering that similar shrieks greeted every Harry Potter book and movie. However, The Golden Compass is a quite different issue.
For an excellent overview of the movie, the books on which it is based, and the not-so-hidden agenda of author Philip Pullman, please visit this link to an article by Dr. Albert Mohler. Dr. Mohler is always a measured voice, yet a clear thinker and excellent communicator.
This post was written by Patrick Rist on April 19, 2007
The Wendell Berry short story, “Watch With Me,” from the collection by the same name (1994), revolves around the character Thacker Hample, a person given to “fits” and other bizarre behaviors, who one day picks up a neighbor’s loaded shotgun and wanders off into the woods after mentioning that he may kill himself.
The neighbor, Tol Proundfoot, begins following Thacker to make sure he doesn’t harm himself or anyone else. He sends word to other neighbors to come help, and for the rest of a long day and long night, Tol and his companions follow and watch Thacker from a distance as he meanders across their rural county.
This is not a lark for these men. They are aware that there is potential danger involved in what they are doing. They hardly speak to one another as they follow, and rarely even walk together. By the end of the story, which ends, if not happily, at least without tragedy, they are tired and hungry and behind in their work on their farms. Yet they do what they do without resentment and without complaint.
The men do not follow and watch after Thacker because he is their friend. Thacker is simply too backward and odd to be anyone’s friend. Rather, the men commit themselves to their task because both they and Thacker live together. In some way that probably none of them could defend or even articulate, this forces upon them an obligation to Thacker and to his welfare.
Thacker walks on alone. Yet he is far from alone.
Like most of Berry’s fiction, “Watch With Me” takes place before mass culture infiltrated every corner of our continent and our psyches. And also like most of his fiction as well as his nonfiction, Berry here holds up an ideal that we may not even be able to recognize, much less affirm.
The ideal is one of connectedness, or community, and the inherent obligation that arises from simply living in proximity to another. This is a hard teaching, and few of us can accept it.
Because for all the talk of “community” or “unity” today, both within the church and outside it, the simple fact is that we like living in a mass society. We like anonymity. We like going to the store and not having to speak to anyone or be recognized. We like not having to be involved with our neighbors’ lives, or even know their names, if we’d rather not. Who has time for it? We can now choose with whom we want to have “community,” and if it becomes messy or somehow disappointing, we can move on to someone else and have “community” with them.
And all this runs along rather smoothly, but with hidden costs. These costs become devastatingly visible when a Thacker Hample gets it in his addled brain to kill a few dozen of us.
Berry, who pastor and theologian Eugene Peterson actually calls a prophet, challenges us to hold some of our most unquestioned ways of life at a critical distance and try to see how odd they are in comparison to how most of the human race has lived through the centuries. But this is hard, and sometimes sounds like blame. It is not blame, but it is an attempt at being as clear-eyed as possible.
Is society somehow to blame for the horrors perpetuated at Virginia Tech this week? Of course not. We must affirm personal culpability; to do otherwise is simply reprehensible, especially in light of subsequent information discovered about the murderer.
But we must also acknowledge that we live in a society in which mobility, anonymity and sheer numbers of people make it possible for someone to be completely unknown by and disconnected to anyone else. This type of society has become normative for us; it is difficult to imagine any other way. We sometimes lose sight of its true perversity, and we seldom think about what it could be doing to us.
Neither you nor I nor Wendell Berry can do very much about mass society and its attendant anonymity. The fix is in, and it’s unlikely that a nation of 300 million is going to become less mass-oriented or impersonal. But for the sake of our own souls, perhaps we should be less glib about it, and more willing to contemplate the possibility that our “tastes” have become corrupted, like someone who prefers watching TV to walking in the woods, or McDonalds to a home cooked meal.
If we prefer anonymity to connection, if we prefer diversion to actually getting involved in others’ lives, and if we are content with cheap and easy “community-lite,” then perhaps we have been too deeply conditioned by our frenetic culture. Perhaps there is something there of which we should repent. We should ask our gracious God to change our tastes, and to protect us from the consequences of a system in which we have been all-too-willing participants.
This post was written by Mark Hansard on April 10, 2007
What are the implications of Huxley’s Brave New World for academia, as we see aspects of his utopian (actually dystopian) society sprouting in our culture? In Part 2, I mentioned that our increasingly private virtual worlds are separating us from the real world and each other, as well as exacerbating the idea that one cannot know truth. In Part 1, I mentioned that the free market is pushing genetic engineering into the forefront.
In a post this short, all I can do is briefly suggest areas for further thought in which teaching and research might have an impact on these ideas currently germinating in the culture.
First, it seems to me that there are several things Christian professors might do to stem the tide of virtual worlds and confusion about truth. One is that we ought to demonstrate by our words and actions in the classroom that we believe truth exists and is knowable. Here I am speaking not simply of Christian truth, although that would be included, but the idea that truth in general is knowable and worth pursuing. Students should pick up from the way we teach and our assignments, that we believe most of our positions, whatever they are, constitute knowledge (not simply mere opinion). For example, when considering the question of whether Shakespeare actually wrote Shakespeare, we assume that there is an actual answer to this question, even if we are not sure what that answer is, and students would pick up on this.
In addition, it seems to me that the use of media in the classroom ought to be used thoughtfully and sparingly. For example, assuming that truth does exist and is knowable, we would want our students to be forced to think logically and critically during the semester, which requires time for reflection that is far away from media distractions. If we rely too heavily on Hollywood media in the classroom or in assignments, they will think emotively, not linearly in a way that is necessary for critical thinking and logical reflection (They would think emotively because most of the information they absorb from media is image based, not linearly or logically derived. It seems to me emotive thinking encouraged by image-based media is part of the “dumbing-down” of the culture). For example, we might be able to get students more interested course material if we made it available as MP3 files for their ipods (Princeton has recently experimented with this). If students listen to lectures or audiobooks, they are forced to think linearly as they process the information, just as they are when they read.
Finally, regarding genetic engineering, it seems clear that in many areas, the market is not going regulate itself regarding what is ethically desirable. Careful thought ought to be given to how much babies should be “designed,” if at all, given God’s personal creation of each individual in the womb (Psalm 139:13-16. See more of our bioethics posts). It seems to me that, in our classroom teaching in genetics and bioengineering, the ethical issues ought to be raised and perhaps discussed and debated among students, at the very least. Perhaps we could carefully and thoughtfully interject our own thoughts on the ethics of such practices for the students’ benefit, once we have thought them through.
No doubt there are many more implications of Huxley’s book for academia than are mentioned here. What are other ways that a “Brave New World” could be avoided?
Part 1 Part 2
This post was written by Mark Hansard on April 5, 2007
In my last post on Brave New World, I mentioned that contemporary culture is listing toward a confluence of unbridled hedonism and increasing government parentalism, something similar, but not as extreme, as Huxley’s new society. Today I want to discuss another prophetic facet of Huxley’s story (This post contains spoilers. If you have not read the book and do not want the ending revealed, read no further).
In the climax of Huxley’s book, Mustapha Mond, a leader of Huxley’s fictitious civilization, explains the price to pay for creating a completely happy, pleasure-filled society. He admits that civilization has sacrificed truth on the altar of happiness. A whole society was created in which Shakespeare, William James, Cardinal Henry Newman, the Bible, and other great works of thought and literature are censored and unknown to the general population because it would interfere with their soma-filled, risk-free lives.
As Mond, explains (I should note here that Huxley’s society worships Henry Ford as the model of this new, mechanistic utopia):
“It’s curious to read what people in the time of our Ford used to write about scientific progress…knowledge was the highest good, truth the supreme value. All the rest was secondary and subordinate. True, ideas were beginning to change even then. Our Ford himself did a great deal to shift the emphasis from truth and beauty to comfort and happiness. Mass production demanded the shift…”
Comfort and happiness replaced truth and beauty. Are we already observing the beginnings of this shift in Western culture? It seems to me two aspects of contemporary culture lend themselves to this view.
First, we are increasingly living in a technological age in which our virtual worlds are more important than the real one. High-definition television, ipods, increasingly realistic video games, fantasy baseball, you name it, are separating us from the real world and real relationships. Why have a conversation with an actual person when one could, say, watch a DVD in the family SUV? Or listen to music on an ipod? Or chat online with Instant Messenger? Don’t get me wrong, I like the new gadgets as much as the next guy. But when technology can give us ever more realistic virtual worlds, what’s to keep anyone engaged with the real one?
When we combine these virtual worlds with the commonplace attitude among the young that everyone ought to believe what makes him or her happy, we can now see the beginnings of Huxley’s utopia. Truth gets pushed aside in the name of individual fulfillment. After all, who’s to say my virtual world isn’t actually the real one, and the outside world is actually the unreal one? Who cares? Besides, I can create my own virtual world through believing what I want to believe! Who are you to tell me that your world is the real one?
As Mustapha Mond says, “God isn’t compatible with machinery and scientific medicine and universal happiness. You must make your choice.” Indeed.
In Part 3 of this series, we will examine the implications of these cultural trends for academia.
Part 1 Part 3
This post was written by Mark Hansard on April 2, 2007
This year marks the 75th Anniversary of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, and for many reasons, Huxley’s Orwellian story remains as relevant today as it did when he wrote it.
In fact, in two important areas, Huxley’s novel is remarkably prophetic. The opening scenes in which we are introduced to a genetic engineering factory, observing as new embryos are created, assembly-line style, with certain genetic proclivities to fit within their needed castes, are chilling. After embryos are created, named, and “bottled,” for example, they make their way on the conveyer belt to the “social predestination room,” in which they are genetically examined, chosen for their future caste according to the needs of the society, and carefully environmentally engineered.
While we are a long way from social and genetic engineering on this scale, we are taking our first steps toward such engineering through market forces already at work. Recently ABC News ran a profile of a woman in Texas who runs an embryo bank out of her home, in which she includes “Ph.D. sperm,” and eggs donated from “attractive” females with at least a college education. You can read about it here. There is certainly enough market interest to make such “designer babies” ubiquitous. I would be grieved (although not surprised) if eventually we saw the government design “aggressive” babies for use in the military. Huxley reminds us that such abuses are a realistic possibility.
Another thought provoking facet of Huxley’s story is the use of soma, a drug that the government uses to keep people blissfully ignorant and peaceful, “happy” at all costs. As one character admonishes a distraught friend, “What you need is a gramme of soma…One cubic centimeter cures ten gloomy sentiments.” Here he is repeating a mantra with which he was blissfully brainwashed as an unsuspecting embryo on a conveyor belt.
It seems to me these scenes are remarkably prophetic in that in contemporary American culture we see a confluence of unbridled hedonism and increasing government parentalism. These days it’s not just that every individual has a right to pursue happiness, it seems that the government is increasingly seen as the institution that must provide such happiness for the individual (e.g. making trans-fats illegal in New York restaurants—do we not have the ability to make these decisions on our own?). The use of soma in the novel allows the government not only to control the population, but to keep them happy and to protect them from themselves. Are we headed toward our own drug-controlled, parental society? Only time will tell.
One thing’s for sure. Every once in awhile, we all need a good dose of Brave New World.
Part 2 Part 3
This post was written by Randy Newman on January 25, 2007
Here’s an idea for a semester’s worth of stimulating discussion among Christian faculty or grad students. Last semester I met with some professors for a weekly discussion of C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters. We attempted to discuss two letters per week but occasionally we needed to focus on just one. We never lacked for material to prompt intellectual inquiry. We committed ourselves however, right from the start, to not limit ourselves to that realm. We wanted to dig past the cognitive to discipleship levels of application.
We shared prayer requests and asked for accountability as we pursued a level of growth we had long desired. Lewis’ humorous insights to the darkness of human experience made it easy for us to let down any guard that had prevented us from this kind of progress in the past.
In the preface to the paperback edition, Lewis pointed us toward an honesty that flavored our entire semester’s interactions: “Some have paid me the undeserved compliment by supposing that my Letters were the ripe fruit of many years’ study in moral and ascetic theology. They forgot that there is an equally reliable, though less creditable, way of learning how temptation works. ‘My heart’ – I need no other’s – ‘showeth me the wickedness of the ungodly.’”
For the sake of promoting this great book as a ground for discipleship stimulation and to save you a tad of preparation time, here is a list of topics, by letter, you could discuss as you work your way through this great book.
Letter 1: The role of reason and argument in the internal life of a Christian.
Letter 2: emotions, disappointment, humility
Letter 3: inner thoughts and outward relationships
Letter 4: prayer (especially our internal dialogue during prayer)
Letter 5: death
Letter 6: anxiety
Letter 7: pacifism
Letter 8: undulation (the up and down nature of normal human experience and how this contributes toward temptation. This is one of the most important chapters of the book and especially pertinent for academicians).
Letter 9: pleasure
Letter 10: “Puritanism��?
Letter 11: humor (this is also a crucial chapter for those called to the world of the academy where a healthy use of humor is rare or totally absent).
Letter 12: reality vs. mere appearance
Letter 13: the pleasure of ordinary things
Letter 14: humility
Letter 15: time (especially the importance of the present over the past or the future)
Letter 16: church
Letter 17: gluttony
Letter 18: sex
Letter 19: love and marriage
Letter 20: lust
Letter 21: anger
Letter 22: sexuality, cont. (This letter is quite funny. If you can find the audio book version, read by John Cleese, you will find this to be absolutely hysterical).
Letter 23: liberal theology and politics
Letter 24: self-congratulation and pride
Letter 25: “mere��? Christianity
Letter 26: marriage, continued
Letter 27: prayer (its efficacy and our ability to comprehend divine mysteries)
Letter 28: life in time vs. timeless eternity
Letter 29: virtue, fear, and despair
Letter 30: fatigue and perseverance
Letter 31: death
Of course, other topics are addressed and no one letter focuses exclusively on the topics I’ve listed. But we found this discussion tremendously valuable in pointing us to the cross and our need to cling to Christ in every arena of life. I hope you’ll consider forming an accountability/discipleship group on your campus to help you love God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind.
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