William Barrett writes, in his book Irrational Man, of the “almost intolerable” classical Western form for music, or art of any kind, which used to demand a beginning, middle, and end. The Western perspective was caught up in the view that the universe – life – was rational. I think his argument is flawed because every work of art – every creation – has a beginning, middle, and end. It may not be structured so, but its existence proves it. Kids in the Hall performed a sketch in which Kevin MacDonald stepped forward to say he had not written much for the show lately, so he wrote a sketch with no beginning or end, just middle. It was humorous for its imagery, but it was nonsensical; there was no narrative. But the sketch was written; it had not existed before that. There was a time when Kevin began to write it, was in the middle of writing it, and finished writing it. The sketch, as it was performed, began when the lights came up and ended when the lights came down. Every creation, even the nonsensical, has rationale behind it. The artist has displayed his work in public for some reason. If the artist wants to convince people life is nonsensical or irrational, then his rationale is to persuade, or to reveal some truth. Barrett has some rationale for writing Irrational Man.
Barrett writes “The final intelligibility of the world is no longer accepted” (56). Why, then, study philosophy or poetry? Why create one’s own if we are not trying to make some sense of it all? Doesn’t every philosopher and every poet attempt alchemy – to create the philosopher’s stone? In order to create I must create some order. I must arrange the elements – my experience, my knowledge, the images, the language, the medium, etc. – to create the poem that did not exist before. If I believed the world had no order, had no intelligibility, I would not create, which I believe is a reflection of Divine Intelligence. I don’t expect to create the philosopher’s stone, but I will continue to attempt it.
ZEDS Blog
I enjoy the essays of Dafoe, Addison, and Samuel
Johnson, all of which were published in pamphlets. Pamphlets were in vogue from 1650-1800, providing writers a forum to express views on politics, society, religion, and art. This has been revived in modern times in the form of blogs.
This is now a slight revamp of my blog that started in 2008.
My reading has become a little more specialized, although previous books commented on show I was heading this direction. At this point I will review mainly Christian texts or other texts from a Christian perspective. I intend to post more regularly with book reviews.
I consider reading and writing as part of the spiritual
journey toward maturity and, I hope, wisdom. These are postings of what I’m learning along the way.
Rod Zinkel, August 19, 2015
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
The "Spiritual Poverty" of Modern Art
William Barrett writes of modern art that it stabs the "Philistine's sore spot, for the last thing he wants to be reminded of is his spiritual poverty" (Irreation Man 49). This is why so many Christians have little use for 'culture' of the past fifty years -- whether visual art, music, film, television -- not because it reminds them of their spiritual poverty, because they are not spiritually bankrupt, but culture is. If I am angered, as Barrett takes pride in prompting, it's because I may have paid for this art by taxation. Pity, or sorrow, is the more dominant feeling, for the artist is bankrupt. Christians still have the value for art that Horace and Sir Philip Sidney espoused: that it should delight and instruct. When both of these qualities are instilled or evoked, art reaches its zenith, and we are edified. It seems so much modern art has little to teach, other than to deconstruct what was once established, and there's little delight in disillusionment. The anger Barrett relishes is no longer in the audience, it's in the artist. The artist's message does not stab my sore spot; but I wonder why he is so proud to display his wounds.
Labels:
Christian,
modern art,
William Barrett
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
C.S. Lewis's Reflections on the Psalms
I consider this one of Lewis’ lesser works, or minor works, perhaps because it is not on one theme, so it is not as cohesive as other books. Lewis admits, at the beginning, “I write for the unlearned about things on which I am unlearned myself.” He writes as a schoolboy discussing the topic with classmates, not as a teacher who knows so much he doesn’t understand the problem. In other words, it is not so much theology as reader’s reaction.
The problem is how to read the Psalms, how to interpret some of the statements. Lewis starts with the difficult themes, such as expression of hate. For instance, the cursing of Psalm 109, verses 7-11:
When he shall be judge, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.
Let his days be few; and let another take his office.
Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.
Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.
Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labor.
Lewis points out, for the contemporary Christian, this is not a justification for hatred. Rather we should recognize the sentiment to repent of, and the harm done – the hatred caused – by injustice. To quote Lewis, “Take from a man his freedom or his goods and you may have taken his innocence, almost his humanity, as well.”
The next chapter, Death, emphasizes a recurring lesson: beware of reading the Psalms from the contemporary Christian perspective, take into account the context in which they were written. This relates to the chapter on death as Christians think of the eternal life that awaits. In the Psalms there is no eternal life after death.
The book is thematic, each chapter on a different theme drawn from various Psalms. In the chapter on connivance Lewis warns of the sin of self-righteousness, which is expressed in several Psalms. Lewis questions how much a Christian should disagree, or voice disagreement, with “very bad” conversation, e.g. cruel talk about someone in their absence. If the Christian is always disagreeable, he will be called a prig. But Lewis also recognizes there are conversations from which to detract, and being called a prig is inevitable and better.
In the chapter, Nature, Lewis points out the Psalmist is a farmer, so it isn’t the romantic view of nature. The landscape is not praised; the weather is. The effect is the deity is removed from nature (as paganism held), but also makes nature a messenger – a testimony – for the divine Creator, as does the Bible as a whole.
The chapter, A Word About Praising, is a digression, which Lewis offers as possible comic relief. Lewis admits, early in his Christianity, he could not understand worship; God demanded praise? “We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence, or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand.” His perspective changed when he realized one way God demands praise is because He is praiseworthy, in the same way the forces of nature demand man’s respect. More important than this is the kind of praise that is the “spontaneous overflow” (I would add “of emotion,” as Wordsworth used to described poetry) for whatever we love. “It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.”
There are two chapters on Second Meanings, which justify contemporary readings and the Christian perspective. Reading some of the verses as prophetic of Christ is not wrong. For instance, Psalm 45 anticipates the Nativity. But the Psalmist may not have known it was prophecy at the time of writing it. For Lewis it is not surprising that the words would take on more meaning with time as 1) he believes God guided the writers of the scriptures, and 2) he believes in the mythopoeic, a term he uses in other essays to describe the truths expressed in myths, including pagan and other religions. Christ not only fulfills Old Testament scripture, but the pagan by “transcending and abrogating it.”
In the chapter, Scripture, Lewis writes a passage important to reading all of his works:
"I have been suspected of being what is called a Fundamentalist. That is because I never regard any narrative as unhistorical simply on the ground that it includes the miraculous. Some people find the miraculous so hard to believe that they cannot imagine any reason for my acceptance of it other than a prior belief that every sentence of the Old Testament has historical or scientific truth. But this I do not hold, any more than St. Jerome did when he said that Moses described Creation “after the manner of a popular poet” (as we should say, mythically) or than Calvin did when he doubted whether the story of Job were history or fiction. The real reason why I can accept as historical a story in which a miracle occurs is that I have never found any philosophical grounds for the universal negative proposition that miracles do not happen."
The problem is how to read the Psalms, how to interpret some of the statements. Lewis starts with the difficult themes, such as expression of hate. For instance, the cursing of Psalm 109, verses 7-11:
When he shall be judge, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.
Let his days be few; and let another take his office.
Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.
Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.
Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labor.
Lewis points out, for the contemporary Christian, this is not a justification for hatred. Rather we should recognize the sentiment to repent of, and the harm done – the hatred caused – by injustice. To quote Lewis, “Take from a man his freedom or his goods and you may have taken his innocence, almost his humanity, as well.”
The next chapter, Death, emphasizes a recurring lesson: beware of reading the Psalms from the contemporary Christian perspective, take into account the context in which they were written. This relates to the chapter on death as Christians think of the eternal life that awaits. In the Psalms there is no eternal life after death.
The book is thematic, each chapter on a different theme drawn from various Psalms. In the chapter on connivance Lewis warns of the sin of self-righteousness, which is expressed in several Psalms. Lewis questions how much a Christian should disagree, or voice disagreement, with “very bad” conversation, e.g. cruel talk about someone in their absence. If the Christian is always disagreeable, he will be called a prig. But Lewis also recognizes there are conversations from which to detract, and being called a prig is inevitable and better.
In the chapter, Nature, Lewis points out the Psalmist is a farmer, so it isn’t the romantic view of nature. The landscape is not praised; the weather is. The effect is the deity is removed from nature (as paganism held), but also makes nature a messenger – a testimony – for the divine Creator, as does the Bible as a whole.
The chapter, A Word About Praising, is a digression, which Lewis offers as possible comic relief. Lewis admits, early in his Christianity, he could not understand worship; God demanded praise? “We all despise the man who demands continued assurance of his own virtue, intelligence, or delightfulness; we despise still more the crowd of people round every dictator, every millionaire, every celebrity, who gratify that demand.” His perspective changed when he realized one way God demands praise is because He is praiseworthy, in the same way the forces of nature demand man’s respect. More important than this is the kind of praise that is the “spontaneous overflow” (I would add “of emotion,” as Wordsworth used to described poetry) for whatever we love. “It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.”
There are two chapters on Second Meanings, which justify contemporary readings and the Christian perspective. Reading some of the verses as prophetic of Christ is not wrong. For instance, Psalm 45 anticipates the Nativity. But the Psalmist may not have known it was prophecy at the time of writing it. For Lewis it is not surprising that the words would take on more meaning with time as 1) he believes God guided the writers of the scriptures, and 2) he believes in the mythopoeic, a term he uses in other essays to describe the truths expressed in myths, including pagan and other religions. Christ not only fulfills Old Testament scripture, but the pagan by “transcending and abrogating it.”
In the chapter, Scripture, Lewis writes a passage important to reading all of his works:
"I have been suspected of being what is called a Fundamentalist. That is because I never regard any narrative as unhistorical simply on the ground that it includes the miraculous. Some people find the miraculous so hard to believe that they cannot imagine any reason for my acceptance of it other than a prior belief that every sentence of the Old Testament has historical or scientific truth. But this I do not hold, any more than St. Jerome did when he said that Moses described Creation “after the manner of a popular poet” (as we should say, mythically) or than Calvin did when he doubted whether the story of Job were history or fiction. The real reason why I can accept as historical a story in which a miracle occurs is that I have never found any philosophical grounds for the universal negative proposition that miracles do not happen."
Labels:
Bible,
C.S. Lewis,
Psalms
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Comparison of Psalms - Rilke's and David's
I would call Rilke’s poetry, or samples of it, self-conscious psalms. The poet is conscious of the Other but concentrates on himself, frankly praises himself, for that.
Nowhere, Beloved, will the world exist, but within us.
Our lives are constant transformations. The external
grows even smaller...
a Thing once prayed to, worshipped, knelt before –
its true nature seems already to have passed
into the Invisible. Many no longer take it for real,
and do not seize the chance to build it
inwardly, and yet more vividly, with all its pillars and statues.
From the Seventh Duino Elegy
As this poem indicates, and others more so, the invisible God is not so important as what the poet makes of him. It is like charity for how one feels, rather than what it does for someone else. It is a very important quality of David’s Psalms that, when he is self-conscious – aware of his own condition – and expresses it, he changes from looking inward to looking outward, to God. Even when God is difficult to see, such as Psalm 13 expresses,
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for he has been good to me.
Or God is hidden, “Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble,” David affirms God’s qualities – His goodness, His judgment, His protection. This is an external God, not determined by the Believer’s belief, but determiner of those beliefs. If David was too self-conscious he would question God’s external existence, which he does not. In fact, he says it is the fool who says “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1). David’s questions to God do not express doubt, but a desire to understand.
It is also important that David does not stop believing because he has questions. I think it is a prevalent belief among those who refuse God that if he is the Christian God he would not have allowed them to come to this point of disbelief. He would have stopped them. It is like someone attempting suicide in hopes someone will care enough to stop him.
Notice, in a number of Psalms, such as number 13 above, David does not necessarily have the answers, but continues to trust God. In other Psalms he answers his questions by affirming what God has done in the past (“for he has been good to me”) and by affirming His law, (Ps. 1:2) “But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.”
Nowhere, Beloved, will the world exist, but within us.
Our lives are constant transformations. The external
grows even smaller...
a Thing once prayed to, worshipped, knelt before –
its true nature seems already to have passed
into the Invisible. Many no longer take it for real,
and do not seize the chance to build it
inwardly, and yet more vividly, with all its pillars and statues.
From the Seventh Duino Elegy
As this poem indicates, and others more so, the invisible God is not so important as what the poet makes of him. It is like charity for how one feels, rather than what it does for someone else. It is a very important quality of David’s Psalms that, when he is self-conscious – aware of his own condition – and expresses it, he changes from looking inward to looking outward, to God. Even when God is difficult to see, such as Psalm 13 expresses,
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for he has been good to me.
Or God is hidden, “Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble,” David affirms God’s qualities – His goodness, His judgment, His protection. This is an external God, not determined by the Believer’s belief, but determiner of those beliefs. If David was too self-conscious he would question God’s external existence, which he does not. In fact, he says it is the fool who says “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1). David’s questions to God do not express doubt, but a desire to understand.
It is also important that David does not stop believing because he has questions. I think it is a prevalent belief among those who refuse God that if he is the Christian God he would not have allowed them to come to this point of disbelief. He would have stopped them. It is like someone attempting suicide in hopes someone will care enough to stop him.
Notice, in a number of Psalms, such as number 13 above, David does not necessarily have the answers, but continues to trust God. In other Psalms he answers his questions by affirming what God has done in the past (“for he has been good to me”) and by affirming His law, (Ps. 1:2) “But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.”
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Modernism in the Church
Book Review of David Wells’ God in the Wasteland
Grand Rapids: William B. Eeardmans Publishing 1994
The primary concern of God in the Wasteland is the influence modernism and modernity has had on the Christian Church as a whole. Wells, a theology professor, offers a look at the trend of mega-church building, its emphasis on marketing, and its effects on theology. He discusses how the philosophies of Christianity, postmodernism, and New Age spiritualism have reacted to modernism and its perhaps prematurely called death – the end of the “Enlightenment project.” In the wake of the centuries old endeavor, a progression towards the ideal of man, the effects are still felt in the church. Christians are faced with re-establishing their relationship with God after distancing themselves for those centuries.
There are two methods of modernism that the Church has incorporated: marketing and giving the people what they want. This results from an attitude shared with capitalism: the people are consumers. This, consequently, makes God the product and the Church the salesman. The terms are irreligious, but as Wells point out, they are used by those practicing a church growth doctrine. The exemplar of this doctrine is George Barna, who applies business models to churches to make them grow. He states that pastors would do better to have a Master of Business Administration degree, rather than a Master of Divinity. Modern pastors need “gifts” of delegation, confidence, interaction, decision-making, visibility, practicality, accountability, and discernment. Barna suggests the power of visual realization, envisioning the large church and making it happen. The greatest controversy is over his idea of adapting the product to the customer’s needs. Another advocate of a more ‘pragmatic’ approach to church building is David Macavran, who published Understanding Church Growth and established the American Institute for Church Growth in the 1970’s. Macavran used psychology, marketing, and behavio9ral health research for his theories. Theology was conspicuously missing.
Giving the people what they want prompts the question what should the Church compromise? As modernism dominates in society at large, or the reactionary postmodernism or New Age spiritualism among segments of society, the Church may embrace the influence in order to attract members of society. Teachings on God’s transcendence, holiness, providence are taught much less than it once was. Condemnation of sin, emphasizing God’s judgment, and the reality of Hell are minimized as these do not appeal to the consumer as sovereign, another philosophy some modern churches share with capitalism, along with ideas finding legitimacy and value in the marketplace. Instead a multi-media presentation is made to self-interest. Wells writes of this environment, “It is here that entertainment and worship are not merely interspersed but often indistinguishable. And it is here, where life should be receiving its most serious and sustained analysis, that tons of literature and countless hours of television and radio programming are being produced that contain nothing more than the sorts of empty clichés and hollow comforts that are available everywhere else in the modernized world ... at this very moment, evangelicalism has bought cultural acceptability by emptying itself of serious thought, serious theology, serious worship, and serious practice in the larger culture” (27).
Modernization within the church has fostered two approaches: the therapeutic and the managerial. The therapeutic approach sees sin as a sickness, and the right technique is available in the marketplace to heal people. The manifestation of this is the support group. The managerial approach looks for efficient techniques for happiness.
Another way modernism may affect the Church, though not by purposeful program, but by a pervasive philosophy in society, is the elevation of the individual, beyond the appeal to consumer or patient. Modernism replaced God with self. Philosophers such as Kant, Nietzsche, Rority, and Fish not only put self on the throne as legislator and arbiter of truth and justice, but elevate the self to become creator of reality. They bring into question whether there is an external reality, which brings into doubt any external God to whose image the self should conform. “Thus thwarted in their effort to find meaning outside themselves, moderns have sought to relocate all reality internally, detached from any fixed moral norms” (94).
Wells recognizes effects of modernism in general, but we can spot them within the Church too. One effect is the attitude and language of victimhood. “This spiral into pervasive victimhood... marks a corresponding erosion of personal responsibility, and suggests that genuine moral discourse about what is right and wrong, irrespective of private interests, is increasingly less possible. Contemporary culture has so diminished our moral capacity, so robbed us of a concern to act responsibly, that we tend to resent moral demands from without or simply to dismiss them out of hand” (135).
The appeal to self-interest, the adaptation of the Church, the emphasis of certain socially accepted traits of God and a suppression or denial of the unpopular traits, all elevate the value of self while diminishing the values of God. God becomes weightless. “...what was once objective in God’s being, what once stood over against the sinner, is either being lost or transformed into something we discover first and foremost in ourselves in such a way that God’s immanence is typically psychologized. ...A God with whom we are on such easy terms and whose reality is little different from our own – a God who is merely there to satisfy our needs – has no real authority to compel and will soon bore us” (92-93).
This passage, the last line especially, is a bleak prophecy that appears to be taking place now.
Grand Rapids: William B. Eeardmans Publishing 1994
The primary concern of God in the Wasteland is the influence modernism and modernity has had on the Christian Church as a whole. Wells, a theology professor, offers a look at the trend of mega-church building, its emphasis on marketing, and its effects on theology. He discusses how the philosophies of Christianity, postmodernism, and New Age spiritualism have reacted to modernism and its perhaps prematurely called death – the end of the “Enlightenment project.” In the wake of the centuries old endeavor, a progression towards the ideal of man, the effects are still felt in the church. Christians are faced with re-establishing their relationship with God after distancing themselves for those centuries.
There are two methods of modernism that the Church has incorporated: marketing and giving the people what they want. This results from an attitude shared with capitalism: the people are consumers. This, consequently, makes God the product and the Church the salesman. The terms are irreligious, but as Wells point out, they are used by those practicing a church growth doctrine. The exemplar of this doctrine is George Barna, who applies business models to churches to make them grow. He states that pastors would do better to have a Master of Business Administration degree, rather than a Master of Divinity. Modern pastors need “gifts” of delegation, confidence, interaction, decision-making, visibility, practicality, accountability, and discernment. Barna suggests the power of visual realization, envisioning the large church and making it happen. The greatest controversy is over his idea of adapting the product to the customer’s needs. Another advocate of a more ‘pragmatic’ approach to church building is David Macavran, who published Understanding Church Growth and established the American Institute for Church Growth in the 1970’s. Macavran used psychology, marketing, and behavio9ral health research for his theories. Theology was conspicuously missing.
Giving the people what they want prompts the question what should the Church compromise? As modernism dominates in society at large, or the reactionary postmodernism or New Age spiritualism among segments of society, the Church may embrace the influence in order to attract members of society. Teachings on God’s transcendence, holiness, providence are taught much less than it once was. Condemnation of sin, emphasizing God’s judgment, and the reality of Hell are minimized as these do not appeal to the consumer as sovereign, another philosophy some modern churches share with capitalism, along with ideas finding legitimacy and value in the marketplace. Instead a multi-media presentation is made to self-interest. Wells writes of this environment, “It is here that entertainment and worship are not merely interspersed but often indistinguishable. And it is here, where life should be receiving its most serious and sustained analysis, that tons of literature and countless hours of television and radio programming are being produced that contain nothing more than the sorts of empty clichés and hollow comforts that are available everywhere else in the modernized world ... at this very moment, evangelicalism has bought cultural acceptability by emptying itself of serious thought, serious theology, serious worship, and serious practice in the larger culture” (27).
Modernization within the church has fostered two approaches: the therapeutic and the managerial. The therapeutic approach sees sin as a sickness, and the right technique is available in the marketplace to heal people. The manifestation of this is the support group. The managerial approach looks for efficient techniques for happiness.
Another way modernism may affect the Church, though not by purposeful program, but by a pervasive philosophy in society, is the elevation of the individual, beyond the appeal to consumer or patient. Modernism replaced God with self. Philosophers such as Kant, Nietzsche, Rority, and Fish not only put self on the throne as legislator and arbiter of truth and justice, but elevate the self to become creator of reality. They bring into question whether there is an external reality, which brings into doubt any external God to whose image the self should conform. “Thus thwarted in their effort to find meaning outside themselves, moderns have sought to relocate all reality internally, detached from any fixed moral norms” (94).
Wells recognizes effects of modernism in general, but we can spot them within the Church too. One effect is the attitude and language of victimhood. “This spiral into pervasive victimhood... marks a corresponding erosion of personal responsibility, and suggests that genuine moral discourse about what is right and wrong, irrespective of private interests, is increasingly less possible. Contemporary culture has so diminished our moral capacity, so robbed us of a concern to act responsibly, that we tend to resent moral demands from without or simply to dismiss them out of hand” (135).
The appeal to self-interest, the adaptation of the Church, the emphasis of certain socially accepted traits of God and a suppression or denial of the unpopular traits, all elevate the value of self while diminishing the values of God. God becomes weightless. “...what was once objective in God’s being, what once stood over against the sinner, is either being lost or transformed into something we discover first and foremost in ourselves in such a way that God’s immanence is typically psychologized. ...A God with whom we are on such easy terms and whose reality is little different from our own – a God who is merely there to satisfy our needs – has no real authority to compel and will soon bore us” (92-93).
This passage, the last line especially, is a bleak prophecy that appears to be taking place now.
Labels:
Christianity,
existentialism,
modernism,
philosophy,
postmodernism,
theology
Monday, June 14, 2010
Douglas Wilson's A Case for Classical Christian Education
Douglas Wilson’s book, The Case for Classical Education, is a challenge to Christian educators, true, but also a challenge to Christians. He writes of the Paideia of God, (the title of another of his books), which is more then the education of children, but the “enculturation,” which is providing more than biblical stories or platitudes, but living, worshipping, working, and thus teaching the Christian life. This is required of the teachers, the administrators, the board, and the parents.
The classical Christian education trains children in the faith, but also the Western civilization in which Christianity prospered. Wilson’s plan, put into practice at Logos, the elementary school he founded, is more demanding than the average public school’s. It is not vacation Bible school. Wilson mentions some of the unusual subjects, (by today’s standards), like Latin, Greek, Hebrew languages. He also writes of how subjects that are not specifically religious or irreligious are a part of the holistic Christian education, such as mathematics and athletics. He lays out the overall plan of the Trivium: grammar, dialectic (or logic), and rhetoric, as they determine the subjects; grammar from first grade to junior high, dialectic until senior high, then rhetoric. Grammar gives children basic knowledge to accumulate, dialectic is the arrangement of this knowledge by its interconnectedness, and rhetoric is the expression of the student’s conclusions.
Also useful for any adults interested in specific texts that are taught, or who would like to have an idea of what a classical education includes, a list of twenty-five books that represent the Western canon is included. If you are interested in some classical training yourself, most of these books are available online for free.
The book is a well-reasoned explanation of why many parents have quit, or are ready to quit, the status quo among public schools. It’s not to make it easier for the children; it’s to have a higher standard of academics, and some standards of God’s in the school.
The classical Christian education trains children in the faith, but also the Western civilization in which Christianity prospered. Wilson’s plan, put into practice at Logos, the elementary school he founded, is more demanding than the average public school’s. It is not vacation Bible school. Wilson mentions some of the unusual subjects, (by today’s standards), like Latin, Greek, Hebrew languages. He also writes of how subjects that are not specifically religious or irreligious are a part of the holistic Christian education, such as mathematics and athletics. He lays out the overall plan of the Trivium: grammar, dialectic (or logic), and rhetoric, as they determine the subjects; grammar from first grade to junior high, dialectic until senior high, then rhetoric. Grammar gives children basic knowledge to accumulate, dialectic is the arrangement of this knowledge by its interconnectedness, and rhetoric is the expression of the student’s conclusions.
Also useful for any adults interested in specific texts that are taught, or who would like to have an idea of what a classical education includes, a list of twenty-five books that represent the Western canon is included. If you are interested in some classical training yourself, most of these books are available online for free.
The book is a well-reasoned explanation of why many parents have quit, or are ready to quit, the status quo among public schools. It’s not to make it easier for the children; it’s to have a higher standard of academics, and some standards of God’s in the school.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Is Literature Relevant?
I am reading a book by Rev. Douglas Wilson: A Call for Classical Christian Education. He has no hesitation in saying Christians should pull their children from public schools. For the Christian teacher in a public school, he has these words:
For Christian teachers in secular schools: “...he or she is either going to be constantly exasperated – or fired. If the teacher fails to reach those around him, he or she will be exasperated. If the teacher succeeds, he or she will be fired. All in all, those gifted in teaching should seek out classical Christian academies in which to teach – even if salary and retirement benefits are lower.”
I also read an article, "The Decline and Fall of Literature," by Andrew Delbanco, (linked to the blog title above) on the failure of English Departments at colleges. Some of the facts included were how the number of students that major in English in college and the number of PhD programs and students have decreased. It is not encouraging to someone who would consider teaching English. The article’s main thrust was that English departments have become “laughing stocks” of colleges across America because of the variety of things studied, which are really just items of pop culture, such as comic books, advertising, movies, pornography, etc. I would add their political slants and social experiments in the classroom have depleted the number of students interested.
In another essay, ”Dynamics of Scholarly and Essayistic Writing,” by Rainer Schulte, (Literature Interpretation Theory, 16: 389–395, 2005. Copyright # Taylor & Francis Inc,)I read the question: why aren’t scholarly journals read? He pointed out their obscurity, mainly in language. But these essays are also obscure in subject matter. They’re really only written for peers. Who is going to read “Jane Austen and the masturbating girl,” a miscellaneous essay I just picked off of the internet, except for other English scholars who think such things are important, and some Freudians who look for justification for their sexual obsession by supposing everyone else has the same?
Secular schools wouldn’t like it, nor allow it, but a moralistic approach to literature, the way to teach prior to the 20th century, taught about wisdom. Secular schools cannot teach wisdom, nor do they care to.* That is why students will doubt the relevance of literature. As much as academics may look down on churches, they could learn something from Bible study. It was Bible study that started my interest in literature, that complemented it, and then study of literature complemented Bible study. Bible study is about applying the Word.
*C.S. Lewis brought up a good point: teachers can’t give their students what they don’t have themselves. He was writing of expecting secular teachers to teach with the Christian perspective.
For Christian teachers in secular schools: “...he or she is either going to be constantly exasperated – or fired. If the teacher fails to reach those around him, he or she will be exasperated. If the teacher succeeds, he or she will be fired. All in all, those gifted in teaching should seek out classical Christian academies in which to teach – even if salary and retirement benefits are lower.”
I also read an article, "The Decline and Fall of Literature," by Andrew Delbanco, (linked to the blog title above) on the failure of English Departments at colleges. Some of the facts included were how the number of students that major in English in college and the number of PhD programs and students have decreased. It is not encouraging to someone who would consider teaching English. The article’s main thrust was that English departments have become “laughing stocks” of colleges across America because of the variety of things studied, which are really just items of pop culture, such as comic books, advertising, movies, pornography, etc. I would add their political slants and social experiments in the classroom have depleted the number of students interested.
In another essay, ”Dynamics of Scholarly and Essayistic Writing,” by Rainer Schulte, (Literature Interpretation Theory, 16: 389–395, 2005. Copyright # Taylor & Francis Inc,)I read the question: why aren’t scholarly journals read? He pointed out their obscurity, mainly in language. But these essays are also obscure in subject matter. They’re really only written for peers. Who is going to read “Jane Austen and the masturbating girl,” a miscellaneous essay I just picked off of the internet, except for other English scholars who think such things are important, and some Freudians who look for justification for their sexual obsession by supposing everyone else has the same?
Secular schools wouldn’t like it, nor allow it, but a moralistic approach to literature, the way to teach prior to the 20th century, taught about wisdom. Secular schools cannot teach wisdom, nor do they care to.* That is why students will doubt the relevance of literature. As much as academics may look down on churches, they could learn something from Bible study. It was Bible study that started my interest in literature, that complemented it, and then study of literature complemented Bible study. Bible study is about applying the Word.
*C.S. Lewis brought up a good point: teachers can’t give their students what they don’t have themselves. He was writing of expecting secular teachers to teach with the Christian perspective.
Labels:
Christian,
education,
English,
literature
Friday, May 28, 2010
Probabilites
In reading C.S. Lewis’s Miracles, he brings up the point that those who believe in the laws of Nature generally disbelieve God could be incarnate in the man of Christ, because it breaks the laws of Nature. It is a miracle. The laws of Nature are such because they are observed as commonplace, or probable. If those who believe in the laws of Nature believe only in the probable, then one reason for disbelief in the Incarnation is it happened only once. This poses one problem to their line of thinking since history happens only once.
In another essay, “Reason and Belief in God,” by Alvin Platinga, he brings up the argument of some that if God's existence is not proven, then a person should believe that God does not exist. In fact, we should start from the position of atheism, and demand that anyone who believes in God's existence should prove it. But why should atheism be the default? The ‘Evidentialists,’ as Platinga calls them, state that the existence of evil disproves the good God that Christianity describes. Is their disbelief in God based, then, on probability? The destructive nature of the universe disqualifies a caring God; evil disqualifies a good God. Is atheism the starting point because it is more probable that evil things will happen, or bad results will happen, rather than a miracle. As Lewis says, "A miracle by definition is an exception." So the atheist can say he is more of a 'realist' because his pessimism better predicts the negative outcome. He can say it is more probable that the Christian God does not exist because of events. The sea is more likely to drowned people in a shipwreck than part so they can walk to shore.
But if it is a question of probability, there may be a flaw in their acceptance of the natural law that acts contrary to God. The theory of Occham's Razor states the simplest explanation of something is most likely the true one. For instance, I could theorize that the woman at the counter smiled and said hello because she would like me to ask for her phone number so as to ask her on a date so as to develop a relationship so as to eventually marry me and have children. Or I could theorize she’s a polite person. The latter is more likely to be true because it is the simplest theory. In regards to natural law vs. God, and specifically the Big Bang theory vs. Creation, the former, promoted by the atheist, accepts a more complex theory, starting with the pre-existence of gasses that collide to cause an explosion, which causes the movement of matter, which then aggregates to become bodies which then arrange themselves by gravity, and so on for many more steps to come to human life on earth. The rarity of human life on earth has now come to illustrate the theory of Divine Intelligence, which states the universe is the design of a Creator, but does not mean describing its history as a literal biblical interpretation would, making the earth four thousand years old. Life on earth -- flora and fauna – is improbable, especially considering the destructive nature of the universe. The proof is in the lack of such life on other planets that we know of. When it comes down to it, the theory of a Divine Intelligence creating life becomes the simpler and more probable theory. If I were a betting man, I would bet on Divine Intelligence.
In another essay, “Reason and Belief in God,” by Alvin Platinga, he brings up the argument of some that if God's existence is not proven, then a person should believe that God does not exist. In fact, we should start from the position of atheism, and demand that anyone who believes in God's existence should prove it. But why should atheism be the default? The ‘Evidentialists,’ as Platinga calls them, state that the existence of evil disproves the good God that Christianity describes. Is their disbelief in God based, then, on probability? The destructive nature of the universe disqualifies a caring God; evil disqualifies a good God. Is atheism the starting point because it is more probable that evil things will happen, or bad results will happen, rather than a miracle. As Lewis says, "A miracle by definition is an exception." So the atheist can say he is more of a 'realist' because his pessimism better predicts the negative outcome. He can say it is more probable that the Christian God does not exist because of events. The sea is more likely to drowned people in a shipwreck than part so they can walk to shore.
But if it is a question of probability, there may be a flaw in their acceptance of the natural law that acts contrary to God. The theory of Occham's Razor states the simplest explanation of something is most likely the true one. For instance, I could theorize that the woman at the counter smiled and said hello because she would like me to ask for her phone number so as to ask her on a date so as to develop a relationship so as to eventually marry me and have children. Or I could theorize she’s a polite person. The latter is more likely to be true because it is the simplest theory. In regards to natural law vs. God, and specifically the Big Bang theory vs. Creation, the former, promoted by the atheist, accepts a more complex theory, starting with the pre-existence of gasses that collide to cause an explosion, which causes the movement of matter, which then aggregates to become bodies which then arrange themselves by gravity, and so on for many more steps to come to human life on earth. The rarity of human life on earth has now come to illustrate the theory of Divine Intelligence, which states the universe is the design of a Creator, but does not mean describing its history as a literal biblical interpretation would, making the earth four thousand years old. Life on earth -- flora and fauna – is improbable, especially considering the destructive nature of the universe. The proof is in the lack of such life on other planets that we know of. When it comes down to it, the theory of a Divine Intelligence creating life becomes the simpler and more probable theory. If I were a betting man, I would bet on Divine Intelligence.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Material and the Metaphysical
I.A. Richards, in Poetries and Sciences, differentiates between truths and “pseudo-statements,” what is more commonly called facts and opinions. Truths are proven by empirical evidence, pseudo-statements cannot be proven by this method. The pseudo-statement may be true, but it cannot be proven. Science presents statements of truth; math presents pure truth. Myth, religion, metaphysics, poetry, all make pseudo-statements. Science is informed, and therefore good for humankind. The others mentioned are ignorant, and a frame of thinking, of believing in “magic,” that was outmoded centuries ago. Richards doesn’t hide his judgment. Strange thing is his statements are pseudo-statements. Just by his word usage – calling all things metaphysical to be magic – he berates anyone who thinks there is something other than the material. I will refer to his scientific perspective as materialistic, and his magical perspective as metaphysical.
I do not intend to try to prove God with empirical evidence. I am not an apologist. I write from the point of one who has already embraced and espoused Christianity. My contention with Richards, at this point, is his pseudo-statement that those who believe the metaphysical perspective are more limited than those who have the materialistic perspective.
The restriction of the metaphysical perspective isn’t ignorance, but it may very well be moral. As a Christian I have abstained from promiscuity, drunkenness, recreational drug use. Many, unfortunately, would describe my life, and my knowledge, as very limited. The fact that I don’t know what a “tea-bag” is when it comes to homo-eroticism proves that. (Incidentally, I have no intention to investigate this further, but I have heard references in pop culture, like the TV show Family Guy.) I would not classify it as ignorance. I may just as well turn the argument on them: they don’t know what it is to be committed, or to have a religious vision, or what baptism in the Holy Spirit is. It seems to me that to classify knowledge as only attainable of what is material is quite restricted.
(This was a journal entry from January, 2009)
I do not intend to try to prove God with empirical evidence. I am not an apologist. I write from the point of one who has already embraced and espoused Christianity. My contention with Richards, at this point, is his pseudo-statement that those who believe the metaphysical perspective are more limited than those who have the materialistic perspective.
The restriction of the metaphysical perspective isn’t ignorance, but it may very well be moral. As a Christian I have abstained from promiscuity, drunkenness, recreational drug use. Many, unfortunately, would describe my life, and my knowledge, as very limited. The fact that I don’t know what a “tea-bag” is when it comes to homo-eroticism proves that. (Incidentally, I have no intention to investigate this further, but I have heard references in pop culture, like the TV show Family Guy.) I would not classify it as ignorance. I may just as well turn the argument on them: they don’t know what it is to be committed, or to have a religious vision, or what baptism in the Holy Spirit is. It seems to me that to classify knowledge as only attainable of what is material is quite restricted.
(This was a journal entry from January, 2009)
Labels:
Christianity,
I.A. Richards,
materialism,
metaphysical,
poetry,
religion,
science
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Question of Absolute Moral Law
A Review of Peter Kreeft's C.S. Lewis for the Third Millennium
This is a collection of six essays by Peter Kreeft that center especially on C. S. Lewis’s book Abolition of Man. Kreeft considers the book as prophetic in portraying mankind as lacking souls when they deny “natural moral law,” what Lewis called the “Tao.” The Tao is made of absolute morals understood by members of humanity, whatever culture they live in. Kreeft puts this assertion against that of Thomas Aquinas, who said that natural law can never be abolished from the heart of man. The author tends to agree with Lewis, and offers contemporary issues, like abortion, to this point, though he finds he cannot completely refute Aquinas. He also includes Walker Percy’s Lost in the Cosmos as a humorous treatment of Lewis’s point. But Lewis could also be optimistic, as demonstrated in the cosmic dance portrayed in his science fiction novel, Perelandra, in which joyful cosmology replaces the joyless. The proof of which argument is right can only be provided by mankind in the future. Kreeft wants to be optimistic, and so ends “Please be a saint.”
There is some repetition between this book and Kreeft’s Culture War. This book is more of the academic work; the other is more conversational in tone, but also the tone of political rhetoric. This book is stronger on philosophy, lesser on contemporary applications.
This is a collection of six essays by Peter Kreeft that center especially on C. S. Lewis’s book Abolition of Man. Kreeft considers the book as prophetic in portraying mankind as lacking souls when they deny “natural moral law,” what Lewis called the “Tao.” The Tao is made of absolute morals understood by members of humanity, whatever culture they live in. Kreeft puts this assertion against that of Thomas Aquinas, who said that natural law can never be abolished from the heart of man. The author tends to agree with Lewis, and offers contemporary issues, like abortion, to this point, though he finds he cannot completely refute Aquinas. He also includes Walker Percy’s Lost in the Cosmos as a humorous treatment of Lewis’s point. But Lewis could also be optimistic, as demonstrated in the cosmic dance portrayed in his science fiction novel, Perelandra, in which joyful cosmology replaces the joyless. The proof of which argument is right can only be provided by mankind in the future. Kreeft wants to be optimistic, and so ends “Please be a saint.”
There is some repetition between this book and Kreeft’s Culture War. This book is more of the academic work; the other is more conversational in tone, but also the tone of political rhetoric. This book is stronger on philosophy, lesser on contemporary applications.
Labels:
Aquinas,
C.S. Lewis,
moral law
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Lewis's The Great Divorce
In The Great Divorce the narrator takes a bus trip to Heaven. He travels with people with a variety of beliefs. When he arrives he realizes he is insubstantial; he, like the other passengers, is a Ghost. They are met by inhabitants of Heaven – Spirits, or Solids – who come to this pickup point to guide them in the new land. The passengers have the opportunity to go back, or to become more substantial here, if they make the rest of the difficult journey. The passengers confront those matters that have gotten in their way to God. This may be refusing to forgive someone, loving someone more than God, or self-pity to the point of denial that the joy of Heaven could exist, or a refusal to take part in it. In every situation, it is the person’s choice.
The story is another spiritual journey, a common subject to Lewis, as is shown in Pilgrim’s Regress and The Chronicles of Narnia. Like Pilgrim’s Regress, this story takes after Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. For example, the journey, once arrived in Heaven, is to a mountain. The Great Divorce differs from Regress in its conversational tone and address of everyday living. Regress addresses philosophies; Divorce addresses common beliefs and behaviors, in a way that Screwtape Letters does. The former work is more academic than the latter.
The narrator does not make the journey, but is told by his teacher this is a dream. He wakes with dawn. Odd that he hears the sound of the hunt just before waking. It could just mean it is early morning, or perhaps it reflects Chaucer’s Book of the Duchess, another dream.
The story is another spiritual journey, a common subject to Lewis, as is shown in Pilgrim’s Regress and The Chronicles of Narnia. Like Pilgrim’s Regress, this story takes after Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. For example, the journey, once arrived in Heaven, is to a mountain. The Great Divorce differs from Regress in its conversational tone and address of everyday living. Regress addresses philosophies; Divorce addresses common beliefs and behaviors, in a way that Screwtape Letters does. The former work is more academic than the latter.
The narrator does not make the journey, but is told by his teacher this is a dream. He wakes with dawn. Odd that he hears the sound of the hunt just before waking. It could just mean it is early morning, or perhaps it reflects Chaucer’s Book of the Duchess, another dream.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Calendar
Chapbook: Two Natures
The Neville Museum series has published a chapbook of 15 of my poems. They are of human and spiritual natures. Here are two poems from the book:
Two Natures
On still water of the pond
two natures you may notice--
where scum has been gathering,
there also grows the lotus.
One Way
There's a boy
who stands knee-high
to a July cornstalk.
He stares one way
down the dirt road
his mother has gone.
He find Fortune
has desrted him,
like the poverty-stricken,
society-forbidden parent.
"I can't take care of you," she said.
I am the child who mirrors
his mother's tears without knowing why?
Two Natures
On still water of the pond
two natures you may notice--
where scum has been gathering,
there also grows the lotus.
One Way
There's a boy
who stands knee-high
to a July cornstalk.
He stares one way
down the dirt road
his mother has gone.
He find Fortune
has desrted him,
like the poverty-stricken,
society-forbidden parent.
"I can't take care of you," she said.
I am the child who mirrors
his mother's tears without knowing why?