This post was written by Randy Newman on November 17, 2008
Several years ago I wrote that C.S. Lewis might be considered the “patron saint” for the Christian academic.
Lewis embodied that elusive combination of a keen intellect and a softened heart. He loved the Lord and he valued the mind. For him, there exists no conflict, tension, or disjuncture between the intellectual sphere and the emotional one.
Today I want to talk of someone else who serves as a valuable role model for us in this same way: Jonathan Edwards.
As the key figure in the Great Awakening that began in 1734, Edwards was the pastor of the Congregational church in Northampton, Massachusetts and a leading intellect of his day. Again, those two descriptions were not considered to be antithetical.
It is not my intention to present a whole biography of Edwards here. I simply want to encourage you to get to know him. Here are a few suggestions to help:
1. Begin by reading some of Edwards sermons. He is most accessible here. Because of language changes and the depth of his thought, reading Jonathan Edwards is difficult. But the sermons are far easier than his treatises.
2. Don’t begin with “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” While this is an excellent sermon, and one that is far different than the lampooned interpretations usually offered in high school social studies classes, I’d suggest you begin with “A Divine and Supernatural Light” or “Praise, One of the Chief Employments of Heaven” or “God Glorified in Man’s Dependence.”
3. Here’s an important emphasis of Edwards you must not miss: Loving and following God must engage both the mind and the “affections.” At Edwards’ time, he was responding to the Enlightenment’s over-emphasis on reason and intellect. In our day, Edwards serves as a helpful corrective against an over-emphasis on emotions and an irrational approach to spirituality. To the modernist and the postmodernist, Edwards’ writings imply “A plague on both your houses!”
Consider this section from “A Divine and Supernatural Light:”
He that is spiritually enlightened truly apprehends and sees it [God’s
glory], or has a sense of it. He does not merely rationally believe that God
is glorious but he has a sense of the gloriousness of God in his heart.
There is not only a rational belief that God is holy, and that holiness is a
good thing, but there is a sense of the loveliness of God’s holiness. There
is not only a speculatively judging that God is gracious, but a sense how
amiable God is upon that account, or a sense of the beauty of this divine
attribute.
May we today embrace, pursue, and enjoy our God with all our being and may we love him with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.
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.
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