Category: Education

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Intellectual Molting: Shedding the Dead Theological Skin of Poor Concepts of God

By Jim Spiegel

I know a young man who is struggling with his faith. Not in the sense that he’s questioning the reality of God. Rather, he seems to be calling into question the adequacy of his particular concept of God, which is proving to be too small as his educational journey is stretching his mind. This is a common experience for young Christian college students, whose intellectual discoveries often apply pressure on the concept of God with which they have operated since childhood. I call it intellectual molting—the shedding of rigid or narrow rational categories when one’s intellect outgrows them in the educational process.

For those who experience this in an unhealthy academic context (e.g., one that is primarily agnostic, atheistic, rigidly fundamentalist, or otherwise hostile to nuanced religious commitment), the turn to religious skepticism or cynicism is a common result. In such cases, it is not only the “old skin” of a small God concept that is thrown off. Belief in God itself may be tossed away. But in a community context that is friendly to faith-infused academic inquiry, one’s God concept is more likely to be adjusted “upward.” The dry, grey, dead skin of outworn theological categories is displaced by the emergence of rich, healthy colors of more robust, biblically orthodox categories.

Former President of Taylor University, Jay Kesler, used to say that when a student told him “I no longer believe in God,” he would reply, “Well, tell me what kind of ‘God’ you no longer believe in, and maybe I don’t believe in him either.” This reply is not only disarming. It is also true.

There are many falsely rigid or distorting God concepts that severely limit or even ultimately kill faith. To the extent one nurses these concepts, one’s faith will either die or remain stunted. A vibrant, biblical faith will survive only to the extent that one’s concept of God expands to properly biblical proportions.

The need for theological category molting is often manifest in the sorts of questions one asks, such as:

    • “Why does God exist?”
    • “What if God stops existing?”
    • “Does God know what is happening to me?”
    • “What if he is unable to fix my situation?”
    • “What if God decides not to forgive us?”

Such are the sorts of questions I have been asked over the years that are indicative of a small concept of God

The first two questions reveals a failure to understand that God is self-existent. (See Exod. 3:14; Ps. 90:2; John 5:26.) He is not the sort of being that depends on other things to exist. Any given tree, rock, human, planet, or quasar is contingent and may or may not have existed. In fact, at one time in the distant past (~14.2 billion years ago) the entire cosmos did not exist. Then it came into existence. But God never came into existence. Not only has he always existed, his existence is metaphysically necessary. He could never not have existed. In this way, God is fundamentally different than anything in the physical world. He is not just another being. God is unique in his self-existence. He is, in the most absolute metaphysical sense, one of a kind.

The third question reveals a failure to grasp divine omniscience: God knows all things—past, present, and future. (See Ps. 139:1-6; 1 John 3:20; Isa. 46:9-10.) This means God transcends time and space. The omniscient divine mind is constantly aware of everything all at once. If this is mind-boggling, it should be. Even if we only grant that God pays attention to every human prayer, we land in something inconceivable. It is estimated that there are about 6.5 billion prayers offered every day by human beings on this planet. If the average length of those prayers is about ten seconds, then (assuming my math is correct) at any given moment God is listening to about 752,000 prayers. Have you ever tried paying attention to just two people talking at once? It is overwhelming. What kind of mind can pay careful attention to hundreds of thousands of people simultaneously?! And given the size of the cosmos, this is just the beginning of divine omniscience.

The fourth question reveals a failure to understand that God is infinite in power. That is, God is omnipotent. (See Jer. 32:17; Ps. 115:3; Matt. 19:26; Luke 1:37.) He not only can do all things (that are logically possible), he actually experiences no resistance in achieving his ends. That is, although fallen beings often strive to resist God, since his power is absolute, there is no exhaustion or difficulty of divine effort in thwarting them. Infinite power can never be the least bit diminished.

Finally, the fifth question, about God changing his mind, reveals a failure to understand divine immutability. (See Num. 23:19; Mal. 3:6; Heb. 13:8; James 1:17.) The essence of God does not and cannot change. And this includes his moral character, which is what is at stake when it comes to God keeping his promises, whether for forgiveness of sin or anything else. Divine immutability is guaranteed by the perfection of God. If God’s character changed, such change would be for the better or worse. If for the better, then God was imperfect to begin with, which is absurd. If for the worse, then God would have become imperfect, which again is absurd. So God must be eternally, immutably perfect, which means his promises will all be fulfilled and his resolve to forgive all of his children who submit to him in obedient faith will never be revoked.

These are the divine attributes that many young (and some older) Christians fail to properly understand. This is sad, because lacking this robust, biblically orthodox concept of God will, one way or another, be manifested in doubts, anxieties, or difficulties in trusting the promises of God. So if you have chronic struggles in these ways, it is probably a good idea to do an inventory of your views on the divine attributes. Is your God concept a healthy one? If not, then perhaps some intellectual molting is in order.

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The Best and Worst of 2022

By Jim Spiegel

It has been another eventful year. Jim continued his work as Head of School at Lighthouse Christian Academy in Bloomington, and Amy continued her role as an agent with State Farm Insurance. Now we are looking forward to the next chapter of our lives, as we will be moving to Hillsdale, Michigan where Jim starts work at Hillsdale College next week. As usual, we are closing out the year with summary remarks about good and bad stuff related to film, music, books, sports, food, and family.

Film Experiences

Jim: 2022 was not a particularly good year for me, as regards film. I didn’t have the time to take in as many movies as I normally do. And most of the films I watched were oldies, from the Silver Chalice (Paul Newman’s film debut) to several classic Dirty Harry and James Bond films. Among the new releases I did see, Amsterdam was noteworthy. Well-acted with a strong script and an interesting, if somewhat predictable, plotline. This year we watched the conclusion to Better Call Saul, the Breaking Bad prequel. While never matching the quality of Breaking Bad (what TV series possibly could?), Better Call Saul is nonetheless compelling, if only for the tremendous performances by Bob Odenkirk and Rhea Seehorn. I also enjoyed The Thief, His Wife, and the Canoe, a fascinating four-episode drama about a man who faked his own death in order for insurance money to avoid bankruptcy. Based on a true story, it is a powerful cautionary tale about the tragic outcome that may follow if you refuse to face the just consequences of your actions. If the series had a subtitle, it could be “How to Make a Bad Situation Far Worse.”

Amy: Like Jim, this wasn’t the year of the film for me, not because I didn’t have time but because I have lost patience with Hollywood’s agenda pushing. Most of my watching hours were spent with crime series, true and otherwise. You may call it dark voyeurism, but nothing thrills me more than watching the good guys and gals track down the bad ones. The Puppet Master, Untold: The Girlfriend Who Never Existed, Girl in the Picture, Bad Vegan, Heist and The Tinder Swindler were some of my favorites. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent with Nicholas Cage was a surprising gem, though somewhat profane. A few disappointments were An Enemy of the People (starring Steve McQueen, just in case we are tempted to think Hollywood went woke in this century), The Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (a victim of poor casting despite the treasure trove of talented actors and lack of plot creativity, though the visuals were superb) and Persuasion (I have been anticipating this film version of my favorite Jane Austen novel in “half agony, half hope.” It wasn’t the anachronistic casting that bothered me but the complete reinvention of the characters, especially my beloved Anne Elliot, which lowered it’s worth in my eyes. If you want to make a film about a cynical, alcoholic spinster, fine; just refrain from hijacking the heroine of someone else’s creation and go make your own.)

Food and Music

Amy’s Best Food Experiences of the Year: This year I, along with my senses of taste and smell, fell victim to Covid . . . twice. Therefore, food became a lot more about the company I was sharing it with than the meal itself, which wasn’t such a bad thing. Meals shared with new friends in Bloomington and old friends passing through. A meal graciously brought to my dad’s hospital room and eaten with my sister and mom while we rejoiced in my dad’s recovery from life-threatening blood clots. And, of course, any meal we got to eat as a whole family since those are rare these days. I did conquer the art of croissant making this year, which I am quite proud of. There is nothing more heavenly than layer upon layer of flaky butteriness.

Jim’s Best Musical Experiences of the Year: In terms of listening experiences, my 2022 highlights were Weezer and Sinatra. Since the early 2000s I had not followed Weezer’s releases very closely. But last Spring their 2021 OK Human album caught my eye—a fully orchestrated collection of songs that is now my favorite Weezer album. The band immediately followed this with Van Weezer, which hails their metal heroes, and in 2022 a series of four 7-song EPs entitled SZNZ, each named for, and released on the first day of, one of the four seasons. That’s nearly 50 songs over the past two years from these guys. And it’s all wonderful stuff. In a completely different stylistic vein, I have greatly enjoyed Frank Sinatra’s Watertown, a concept album released in 1970. The only album in which Sinatra sang over pre-recorded instrumental tracks, it has a very different feel than all of his other material, and in a good way. There is a certain intimacy in the songs that you don’t hear in his other work. Upon its release, the album was met with tepid reviews. But a half century later, Watertown is now widely regarded as one of Sinatra’s best. If nothing else, I recommend you check out my favorite cut from the album, “I Would Be In Love Anyway.” Beautiful.

Sports

Jim’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year: Watching Sam emerge as starting goal keeper on the Taylor University soccer team. He had some spectacular moments in goal this year, and he was recently named as a captain on next year’s team. That’s my boy.

Amy’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year:  Watching Sam play is almost equal parts thrill and terror for me, so I don’t know that I can say I enjoy it until it’s over. With Andrew away during most of the NFL season, I became Jim’s companion for Sunday football watching and thoroughly enjoyed it. We predicted winners and losers each week and I even managed to come out on top a few times. I also loved watching my Tennessee Volunteers return to their former glory. Go Vols!

Jim’s Most Disappointing Sports Moments of the Year: The Atlanta Braves getting bounced by the Phillies in the National League Division Series playoffs. I really don’t like how this new playoff system effectively punishes the best teams with long layoffs before their first playoff games. Unlike many other sports, in baseball such layoffs disrupt players’ rhythms, especially hitters, and therefore hurt rather than help teams. Oh well. Hopefully, MLB officials will recognize this and revise the playoff format.

Amy’s Most Painful Sports Moment of the Year:  Falling victim repeatedly to renewed hopes that the Colts really did deserve my allegiance as well as witnessing the demise of Tom Brady. I have never liked the guy, on or off the field, but it’s just sad. As one of the greats, you’ve gotta know when to walk away. 

Good Reads

Jim: I highly recommend Carl Trueman’s The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self, an astute study of the historico-philosophical developments which led to the sexual revolution and ultimately our current confused cultural condition regarding sexuality. Rod Dreher was right in calling this one of the most important books of the decade. I also appreciated Pete Hegseth’s Battle for the American Mind, which I used for an LCA faculty book study this Fall. Hegseth traces the history of the progressivist takeover of American public education and issues a compelling call to the growing classical Christian education movement. But the best read of the year for me was a work of fiction: Alexander Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo. At 1250 pages, reading this book takes commitment, but it is well-worth the journey in terms of the moral and even theological insights that Dumas’s rich, multi-layered narrative provides.

Amy:  My reading slowed down quite a bit this year but I managed to read some great ones: Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, The Midnight Library by Matt Haig, A Kim Jong-II Production by Paul Fischer, Intellectuals by Paul Johnson, Ordinary Men by Christopher Browning, and Soundtracks by Jon Acuff. Some were heavier than others but all insightful and well worth the time.

Best 2022 Family Memories 

Jim: Although it wasn’t a family memory as such, the highlight of the year for me was when we sent Sam and Maggie down to Bolivia to spend six days with Bailey and Andrew the week before Christmas. A cross-cultural experience for all of our kids to remember, for sure. And they sent us some spectacular photos.

Amy: The birth of Austen’s puppies was definitely the highlight for me. Life truly is a miracle and our dogs are a focal point of love we all share. Car rides with the kids and walks with Jim and the dogs. Watching Bailey launch himself into the world after graduating from college.

New Year’s Resolutions

Amy: Getting off the couch and getting more active. Spend more time reading and less streaming.

Jim:  To post more consistently on Wisdom & Folly!

Happy 2023 everyone!

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Viewpoint Diversity and the Academy

By Jim Spiegel

Generally speaking, we all value—or ought to value—diversity.  Be it ethnic, racial, cultural, linguistic, aesthetic, methodological, culinary, or human developmental (i.e., age), we know—or should know—that human diversity is a good thing for a community and a good thing for us as individuals to experience.  On this much, hopefully, we can agree.  And it is appropriate for any school, business, or organization to cherish and pursue diversity.  But why this is a reasonable value is seldom explained or defended.  What is it exactly that makes diversity a human good?  Why, in particular, is diversity a valuable thing at a university?  And why is this especially true for a Christian university?

As cognitive creatures, humans are inherently doxastic beings, naturally forming beliefs all day every day about all sorts of things.  And for beliefs to be rational they must be adequately informed.  Humans are also social animals, as Aristotle famously noted.  Human societies are inherently plural, so our operation within communal atmospheres is fundamental to our existence.  As doxastic social beings, then, we rely on others within our communities to instruct, challenge, and correct us as we form beliefs about a whole range of subjects.  And if all members within a given community believe the same things about all issues, then there may be instruction, but there won’t be challenges or corrections to our beliefs.  Given that all of us hold some false beliefs that need correction, a lack of doxastic plurality would leave us with little hope for escape from the grip of these falsehoods.  Any further enlightenment would be limited by the confines of the already agreed upon set of beliefs that everyone in our midst already affirms.

If this is true for any community, then it is especially the case in an academic community. Diversity of views is inherent to the original and on-going purpose of the university, as a place where many different perspectives and belief commitments co-exist and integrate in creative, cooperative, and innovative ways.  Of course, it is not enough to have the “versity” without the “uni” of “university.”  Something must unify us in the midst of the plurality of perspectives and convictions.  And this is what distinguishes the Christian university, which regards Christ as the star of the academic solar system.  As the Apostle Paul says, “in Christ all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.  He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”  So in the Christian university, Christ is the hub and focal point of everything we learn, teach, and practically implement.  At least that is our goal, even if we constantly fall short of attaining this ideal.  This conviction is rooted even in the creative order itself.  God is the maker of all things, and the universe is inherently diverse, so if we are to properly worship and understand God, we must appreciate the diversity within his creation.  So the good of diversity for the Christian university is grounded both in Christology and divine creation.

But notice that this diversity good is essentially doxastic—it has to do with the variety of beliefs, viewpoints, and perspectives.  Yet when diversity is promoted and celebrated in academic communities these days, it is not the first thing many people think of.  Rather, we often think of racial or gender diversity (and, perhaps, to a lesser extent, diversity of age or physical ability).  This is not to say that these forms of diversity are not themselves valuable, but these biological differences have no communal value in themselves any more than other biological factors, such as eye color, height, or the shape of one’s bicuspids.  We properly value racial and gender diversity only because they are somewhat reliable indicators of the deeper essential value of viewpoint diversity.  But they are not infallible indicators of diverse perspectives.  Biological diversity (plurality of races, genders, etc.) does not guarantee viewpoint diversity.  Nor does the lack of such diversity within an academic community guarantee a lack of viewpoint diversity.

So is the current obsession with biological diversity in the American academy misguided?  To the extent that it ignores or fails to appreciate the deeper value of viewpoint diversity, I think it is.  After all, if the end in view is plurality of perspectives, then racial and gender diversity are, as just noted, not infallible indicators of the achievement of that end.  Of course, one might point out that biological diversity within a community is important for another reason, specifically as an indicator of fair hiring procedures.  But, important as that is, it is a separate issue.  And here, too, biological diversity or the lack thereof is not by itself an infallible indicator of fairness in hiring or the lack thereof.

So, again, diversity of biological attributes such as race and gender within an academic community is valuable, but only secondarily or derivatively.  My contention is that they are not valuable in themselves but valuable because of a deeper good, namely viewpoint diversity, the plurality of perspectives which is so crucial to the advancement and enhancement of learning, which of course is the ultimate good of any academic community.

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National Champions!

By Jim Spiegel

Last weekend the Taylor University Ethics Bowl team, which I coach, won the national championship in Costa Mesa, California.  Ethics Bowl is an intercollegiate moral issues debate competition, in which hundreds of schools participate nationwide. Taylor has been participating since the late 1990s, and our team has won numerous regional championships, and in recent years we’ve been doing increasingly well at nationals. Two years ago we advanced to the finals, only to be edged by one point in the IMG_1313championship match. But last weekend we took that final step, winning our first national championship in a very close match against Whitworth University (a superb team and one of the most consistently strong teams in the country).

Our team won all three qualifying matches (against Duke University, Santa Clara University and Texas Pan American). Then we defeated Villanova University in the quarterfinals and Indiana University in the semi-finals, culminating in the showdown against Whitworth University.

The competition took place at the Hilton Hotel in Costa Mesa, California. As usual, 32 teams participated, all having qualified by finishing among the top teams in their region. There are ten regions nationwide, and ours is the Central States region, which features some of the best teams in the nation, including former national champions Indiana University (2004 and 2009), Wright State University (2002), and DePauw University (2013).

The topics debated at nationals were the following (two cases covered per match):

  • Unpaid internships
  • The use of ancient artifacts (Roman lead ingots) for scientific purposes
  • “Prescriptive planting” farming technology
  • The killing of civilians in war
  • Parental rights of rapists
  • Fracking
  • Artificial intelligence
  • Minimum wage
  • Horse slaughterhouses
  • Stealth (undercover) journalism
  • Media use of “crowdsourcing”
  • Transgendered people and public bathrooms

The Taylor team roster:

  • Jess Biermann (Senior, Philosophy)
  • Nathaniel Cullen (Senior, Philosophy and Environmental Studies)
  • Kasey Leander (Junior, Political Science, Philosophy, and Economics)
  • Davis Meadors (Senior, Philosophy)
  • Caleb Nagle (Senior, Political Science)
  • Mark Taylor (Senior, Philosophy)
  • Veronica Toth (Junior, English)

And non-roster Ethics Bowlers who were on the Fall regionals team and made the trip to nationals, supporting the team in various ways:

  • Kyle Carruthers (Senior, Professional Writing)
  • Lydia Grace Espiritu (Senior, Philosophy)

Katie Duncan is my assistant coach, and she led the team while I was on sabbatical in the Fall when the team qualified for nationals by finishing second at regionals.

We couldn’t be happier for the students, as they worked like crazy for the last two months and performed brilliantly all day during the competition.  It’s an amazing bunch.  For the seniors, they’ve made it to two finals in three years, and now they’ve won a national championship.

Soli Deo Gloria!

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New and Old Treasures

By Jim Spiegel

A passage in the book of Matthew really struck me recently.  Specifically, Matthew 13:52.  The context of the verse is Jesus’ speaking about the kingdom of heaven and how at the end of the age the righteous and wicked will be separated and the wicked thrown into hell.  Then Jesus says, “every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”

As a Christian philosopher who is especially interested in ethics, I suppose I am—or at least aspire to be—something like a “teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven.”  So when Jesus offers a simile related to this role, it catches my attention.  What could he mean here by “new treasures as well as old”?  One thing that comes to mind is scholarly insights, old and new.  In teaching the history of philosophy, I constantly emphasize the treasures in Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, Aquinas, Anselm, Locke, Edwards, Berkeley, Kant, etc.  These are some of the towering intellects of Western thought, and their insights about the good life and, in many cases, the nature and purposes of God are considerable.  As for new treasures, I think of contemporary Christian philosophers such as Robert and Marilyn Adams, Alvin Plantinga, Eleonore Stump, Peter van Inwagen, Richard Swinburne, William Lane Craig, Linda Zagzebski, Robert Roberts, and Alexander Pruss.  In recent decades, these scholars and so many others have provided us with “new treasures” related to the intellectual life and virtuous living.

We should remember that Jesus himself was a teacher in the kingdom of heaven, and of course he modeled perfectly the bringing out of new and old treasures.  Whenever he taught, he drew from and applied the Old Testament scriptures but also made new innovations as a teacher, using unique parables (unlike anyone else in history), stunning hyperbole, creative metaphors, and other figurative devices for teaching theology and ethics.  Indeed, his method was a balanced blend of new and old treasures, something that all Christian educators and scholars should strive to emulate.

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Seven Reasons for the Liberal Arts—Part 2

By Jim Spiegel

Here are my four other reasons for studying the liberal arts:

Reason #4:  Studying the liberal arts builds the virtue of self-control.  Admittedly, if you study the liberal arts, you are bound to encounter subjects you don’t like and even find tedious and annoying.  That’s fine.  But then you have the opportunity to grow.  Studying subjects you dislike is a good discipline and builds self-control, which is a fruit of the Spirit (cf. Gal. 5:22-23) and fundamental to godliness.  Athletes intentionally do unpleasant and tedious exercises like wind sprints and weightlifting, yet they know its valuable because it gets them ready to compete.  How much more value does self-control and godliness have?  The Bible says “physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:8).  Studying subjects you dislike is valuable because of how it builds self-control and, thus, makes you more godly.

This is not to say that the life of a liberal arts learner is not pleasurable.  Self-control is not inconsistent with a life of pleasure.  (Just ask Mr. Christian Hedonist, John Piper.)  In fact, the life of broad learning is actually the most pleasurable.  We all find pleasure in participating in and discussing things that interest us.  So those who have more interests have more ways of finding pleasure in life.  On the other hand, the less you know, the fewer interests you’ll have and thus the less fun you can have and the more easily you can be bored.  So whenever I hear someone say, “I’m bored,” I think “Well, that’s probably because you’re boring.  And you’re boring because you don’t have enough interests.  And you don’t have enough interests, because you haven’t learned enough.  What you need is a liberal arts education!”  That’s just what I think to myself.  I rarely say that out loud.  (And I have the self-control to resist saying it because I have a liberal arts education.)

Reason #5:  Studying the liberal arts makes you a more open-minded person.  Open-mindedness is an intellectual virtue.  It is the virtue of being willing to consider new ideas, perspectives, or entire subjects.  The open-minded person is generally willing to give something or someone a fair hearing.  In contrast, the closed-minded person is intellectually foreclosed against new ideas or perspectives.  In the context of education, this vice is displayed by anyone who stubbornly refuses to consider a legitimate idea or perspective.  It is also evident in anyone who begrudges the study of math or biology or art or any other entire field of study.

Closed-mindedness is a vice and intellectually deadly for anyone, but it is especially tragic in young people.  As a person ages—and this includes college professors—they experience what might be called “hardening of the categories” as they close their minds to new things.  People are most imaginative and intellectually fertile in their younger years.  (This is why the most groundbreaking achievements in art, science, and literature tend to be made by those who are relatively young.)  So to be a closed-minded young person is like choosing to be prematurely senile.

Like humility and winsomeness, open-mindedness is the sort of virtue that is not only attractive but tends to inspire the same quality in others.  If we are willing to give others’ ideas and opinions a fair hearing, then they will be more willing to listen to us as well.  So a simple application of the Golden Rule shows us that we should strive for this trait.  And, of course, studying the liberal arts is crucial to doing so.  Exploring a variety of subjects opens the mind to new vistas of insight and understanding.

I should add that as Christians (and who, by the way, are foreclosed on the creedal points—such as the triune reality of God, the divinity and resurrection of Christ, and the need to obey him), we have nothing to fear when it comes to new ideas and innovations.  This is because, as the well-worn dictum goes, all truth really is God’s truth.  So we can be adventurously open-minded in our studies while unwaveringly committed to the verities of our faith.  And that is the essence of a Christian liberal arts education.

Reason #6:  Studying the liberal arts is a biblical duty.   Proverbs 4:7 tells us to “Get wisdom.  Thought it cost all you have, get understanding.”  And in hundreds of other biblical passages we are told to pursue wisdom and understanding.  The biblical writers did not restrict the subjects of “understanding” to your major or just the stuff you’re interested in.  Presumably, they mean any kind of genuine understanding of truth, goodness, and beauty.  So it appears we have a duty to learn in every discipline.  Christian liberal arts colleges like the one where I teach are simply being faithful to this biblical mandate.

Reason #7:  Studying the liberal arts is essential to Christlikeness.  In the Gospel of Mark we read that the people said about Jesus, “he has done everything well” (7:37).  Jesus, it appears, was the ultimate example of the versatile student.  Lest we dismiss this as an automatic consequence of his being divine, don’t forget that the New Testament also tells us that Jesus “grew in wisdom and stature” (Luke 2:52) and that he even “learned obedience” (Heb. 5:8).  Being fully human, Jesus shared these experiences with us, including all of the difficulties and suffering that they entail.  Since we are commended to imitate him in every way, we too must learn obedience, grow in wisdom, and, yes, do everything well.  And, of course, this is precisely the point of a Christian liberal arts education—to make us Christlike learners.

So there you have it—seven reasons, among myriad others I’m sure, to study the liberal arts.  To summarize, if you want to know the wisdom and beauty of God, if you want to be a strong ambassador for Christ, if you want to avoid embarrassing your faith, if you want to display the fruit of the Spirit, if you want to have the virtue of open-mindedness, if you want to fulfill your biblical duty to pursue wisdom and understanding, if you want to be more like Christ; in short, if you want to be a better Christian, then you need to study the liberal arts.

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Seven Reasons for the Liberal Arts—Part 1

By Jim Spiegel

The school where I teach, Taylor University, is a Christian liberal arts college.  Sometimes I am asked for a rationale for the liberal arts and, specifically, why a liberal arts education is important from a Christian point of view.  In this and my next post, I will provide such a rationale.

I considered giving my reasons in the form of a top ten list.  But top ten lists are cliché.  So I’m going to do something completely different.  I’m going to use a top seven list.  I will propose seven good reasons for studying the liberal arts—seven reasons why disciples of Jesus should be intellectually versatile.

By “liberal arts” I mean, of course, that wide range of studies that includes the humanities and sciences, from art to zoology.  So why as Christians should we be committed to liberal arts learning?

Reason #1:  Studying the liberal arts enables you to better appreciate the wisdom and beauty of God.  God is the source of all truths of science, math, history, psychology, theology, and every other discipline.  As the apostle Paul says, in Christ “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:3).  So to study in literally any discipline is to understand Christ better.  Even the most abstract or minute insights about differential equations, mallard migration patterns, or the history of the French Revolution reveal something about the genius of God.  And any insight into the divine is a profound insight.

Also, all of the beauty found in the creative arts, from painting to poetry to music and theater, is ultimately derived from the beauty of God.  As Alain de Botton puts it, “beauty…is a fragment of the divine…  The qualities of beautiful objects are those of a God from whom we live far removed, in a world mired in sin . . . but bittersweet tokens of a goodness to which we still aspire.”[1]  God is the source of all aesthetic excellence wherever it might be found, so to experience beauty in any domain is to indirectly experience God’s beauty.  And liberal arts training gives us the greatest exposure to that beauty.

Reason #2:  Studying the liberal arts helps you to avoid embarrassing your faith.  To explain what I mean, consider these words from St. Augustine that are just as relevant today as they were when he wrote them 1600 years ago:

Usually, even a non-Christian knows something about the earth, the heavens, and other elements of this world, about the motion and orbit of the stars an even their size . . . , and this knowledge he holds to as being certain from reason and experience.  Now it is a disgraceful and dangerous thing for an infidel to hear a Christian, presumably giving the meaning of the Holy Scripture, talking nonsense on these topics; and we should take all means to prevent such an embarrassing situation, in which people show up vast ignorance in a Christian and laugh it to scorn . . . .  If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven . . . ?”[2]

Augustine’s concern here is that fellow Christians in his day were reflecting poorly on Christ by announcing false and uninformed views about various issues—issues that today we would call scientific.  By publicly sharing their ignorance, these Christians undermined any credibility they might have had in proclaiming the Gospel.  For if a person is easily duped about geology and astronomy, then they are just as vulnerable and untrustworthy when it comes to theology.

By giving you a substantive exposure to all of the disciplines, a liberal arts education prevents this sort of thing.  You will be less likely to ignorantly pontificate about a subject because, well, you won’t be ignorant about it.  So liberal arts training helps you to avoid associating the Gospel with ignorance and thus tarnishing the name of Christ.  That’s a big deal.  But now let me expand on this a bit more positively.

Reason #3:  Studying the liberal arts makes you a better ambassador for Christ.  By becoming broadly knowledgeable, you make yourself a more interesting and circumspect person, and thereby you become a more compelling witness for Jesus.  There are a lot of evangelistic “methods” and programs out there, and all of them attempt a shortcut past the best and most biblical way of drawing others to Christ.

The apostle Peter sums it up like this: “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us” (1 Pet. 2:12).  A Christian liberal arts education doesn’t just equip you for this or that vocation or set of tasks.  Rather, it turns you into a certain kind of person—a person who is a good thinker, imaginative, and intellectually versatile; you will become a person who has more interests and is therefore more interesting.  In short, you will become a person such that people will want to know what your ultimate life commitments are.  And no evangelistic method or program can match the power of that.

[1] Alain de Botton, The Architecture of Happiness (Vintage, 2008), 149.

[2] St. Augustine, The Literal Meaning of Genesis, 2 Vols., Ancient Christian Writers, nos. 41-42, trans. John Hammond Taylor (New York: Newman Press, 1982), 1:42-43.

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Confessions of a Home Schooler

By Amy Spiegel

You know that sick, forehead slapping feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when a regrettable discovery makes its way to the forefront of your mind just a little too late, when there is nothing to be done but sigh and live with the consequences? Sometimes those consequences are fairly minor like the brownies being a little flat because you forgot to add the baking soda. Hey, a brownie is just a brownie, right? And sometimes the consequences are more severe like realizing that candy bar does have peanuts in it right after your highly allergic son swallows it. And then, of course, there is the middle ground somewhere between flat brownies and a long night of Benadryl and vomit. This week I have found myself occupying this middle ground of regret.

It all started a few weeks back when a fellow “home educator” recommended a website selling pre-packaged unit studies for homeschoolers. Want to do a study of dolphins? Autumn? Or a wide variety of other topics? This enterprising saint of a woman has taken loads of cut outs, web resources, and reading lists and put them all together. For a small fee, you download all of it and away you and your child go to learn about the selected topic. Normally, this tips go in one ear and out the other, but I actually liked the idea and followed up on it. So this week, I found myself cross-legged on the floor, helping our youngest two do leaf rubbings and mini-books about the pigments found in trees. This may not seem like a particularly revolutionary act, but when I decided to begin homeschooling years ago I erected a mental force field around myself, blocking out any voices that might destroy my peace of mind. It wasn’t that I am unwilling to learn from the experience of others; in fact it was quite the opposite. I seem incapable of refraining from making comparisons. Their six-year-old is reading at a college level? I should read to my children seven hours a day so they don’t fall behind. Their kid is learning Latin while still in the womb? My children will obviously end up as homeless vagrants. It isn’t that I want my kids to be better or brighter than other kids. Like most other moms, I just don’t want to let them down.

So, in order to avoid a complete mental breakdown, for the most part I avoided large gatherings of moms and their above-grade-level learners, fearing the shattering of my ever-fragile mommy ego. I steered clear of homeschooling literature and blogs and would rather have run naked through the streets of Fairmount than attend a homeschooling convention. Granted, this is an overreaction to the natural impulse to compare ourselves to those around us, and the absurdity of my behavior struck me like one of David’s five smooth stones as I watched my kids benefit from my friend’s suggestion. How many other enriching activities had we missed out on due to my insecurities and fear of failure? True, sometimes mommy gatherings can turn ugly, but for the most part it’s just bunch of women like myself, looking for affirmation and support. Who can say what cross-pollinating moments I have missed because I was afraid of being judged and found lacking.

But no more! I am now prepared to go boldly into the world, ready to glean much from the wisdom of others and to try and take myself, and my job, a little less seriously. Just like my brownies, it may not be perfect but it will still taste pretty sweet.

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Go Green, Go God

By Amy Spiegel

Our local library, small though it may be, does a great job of promoting literature and a general love of learning. This is due mostly to the herculean efforts of our head librarian who is always willing to go above and beyond the call of duty. This summer, she has organized a “Be Creative” time for younger kids in the community—crafts, story time and whatnot. As part of the program, yesterday some of the kids and I headed to the library for a reader’s theater type production. The kids were in awe of the costumes, simple though they were, and loved the story. The tale involved a “maintenance sprite” who had to battle Captain Hook in order to save the natural resources of Indiana. I too was enjoying the performance until the “story” began to smell more like propaganda (which smells a bit like something else we have a great deal of Indiana due to a large population of farm animals, but I digress). Of course, the program was meant to be educational, and it is certainly important to teach kids about the responsible use of water, energy, etc., but as they stood up and recited the “Defenders of the Planet” pledge, a cold chill ran down my spine and it wasn’t visions of sugar plums but Nazi Youth Organizations that were dancing in my head.

go-green-logoLet me first make it clear that I too would like to preserve and defend our local and national resources. Nor am I accusing our beloved Miss Linda or the organization that produced the play of being Nazis or anything of the sort. Taken on its own, this incident would quickly have been lost on me in the rush to make lunch and get everyone down for a nap. But the accumulation of “Go Green” messages constantly hurdled at my doorstep has begun to resemble a landfill of impressive proportions.

I hate to be so cynical but as I sat in my library chair, watching my kids soaking in anything and everything the “maintenance sprite” had to offer, the question that kept running through my mind was “Why are they so desperate to teach our kids this stuff?” Why, indeed. Why not do a program teaching the history of Indiana? Why not simply celebrate the natural wonders of our state and their many uses? Why are people so insistent on teaching children about global warming? As we walked home, the answer became as clear as a Colorado mountain spring. If we can’t be religious anymore—and anyone who is not out of their enlightened mind knows that religion is so last century—then we have to come up with a reason to act responsibly. Sure, they could have told kids that wasting water is wrong but that would be inconsiderate and, well, wrong. But something being wrong would imply that there are universal standards for behavior that apply to us all. They could have talked about stewardship and the resources that we have been entrusted with but that would imply that someone or some Being is the owner and creator of all these resources over which we have been given dominion.

That is where global warming comes into play. If you can’t stop kids from wasting electricity because it is bad then you have to have some other end to justify their means. I guess it is so much a part of our make-up, or design if you will, to require a “why” when we are called to self-sacrifice that the God “why” has been replaced with the Melting-Ice-Caps “why.”

I have to question either the sincerity or the informedness of those who are so fanatical about turning off the light switch when they choose to ignore some of the more simple but less glamorous ways we can all truly make a difference. I laugh every time I see someone wearing a “Go Green” t-shirt and ponder the environmental price tag of the production of that shirt when shopping at Goodwill saves you money and is the ultimate recycling experience. Eating less meat and demanding fewer “exotic” foods out of season and location, too, are ways to save on land use and fuel costs. Certainly, teaching our kids to be grateful stewards of God’s creation is a start, not only to saving the planet but redeeming mankind. Or perhaps, at the very least, those towing the “Go Green” party line could save a little of that propaganda for the compost heap instead of trying to feed it to our kids.

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Orbiting the True Falconer

By Jim Spiegel

Christian author and president of Ligonier Ministries R.C. Sproul tells the story of his experience as a young father visiting his daughter’s school for the first time.  Six weeks into his daughter’s first grade year at a public school in Boston, Mass., Sproul attended an open house for parents in which the principal was to explain the school’s programs and goals.  The principal proceeded to review in rigorous detail how each activity undertaken was based on the latest research in child education and how it contributed to specific aspects of the children’s development.  When they were done, the principal asked the parents if they had any questions, which at first was met with only silence and blank stares.  Finally, Sproul himself spoke up: “Sir,” he said, “I deeply appreciate all that you’ve done here, and I am overwhelmed by the amount of care and precision that has gone into the planning and execution of this curriculum.  But I do have one question.  Could you tell me what is the overarching purpose you are trying to achieve here?  In other words, what kind of child are you trying to produce and why?”  The principal looked at Sproul mutely for a several moments and then said, “I don’t know.  No one has ever asked me that question.”  To which Sproul replied:  “I respect and appreciate your being so open and honest.  But frankly, your reply terrifies me.”

Sproul’s question could, and I think should, be posed to any educator, whether those teaching first-graders or those like me, working with college students.  What kind of person are my colleagues and I (at Taylor University) hoping to produce or at least have a hand in shaping?   If we, like that principal, have no answer to Sproul’s question, then the parents of our students, too, have good reason to be worried, if not terrified.

In an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education (June 4, 2004), Vartan Gregorian argues that American higher education is suffering from a “major failure” to make sense of the unity and value of knowledge, and is degenerating into a mere job-readiness program.  Increasingly, colleges are taking what Gregorian calls the “Home Depot approach to education,” turning themselves into “academic superstores, vast collections of courses, stacked up like sinks and lumber for do-it-yourselfers to try to assemble on their own into a meaningful whole” (p. B12).  Colleges offer a vast array of general education and specialized courses but it is “devoid of…context and coherence” (ibid).  What is critically absent is any sense of what it means to be an educated or cultured person.  So Gregorian issues an urgent call for college professors and administrators to “reconstruct the unity and value of knowledge” (ibid).

Notice that Gregorian’s worry is essentially the same as Sproul’s but just on a higher educational plane.  It is interesting to note that the events recounted in Sproul’s story occurred about forty years ago.  So his daughter’s generation are today’s college professors whose lack of unifying vision Gregorian laments.  There is indeed a crisis in American higher education today, and Gregorian diagnosis it well.  But conspicuously absent from his essay is any sense of the problem’s cure.  His plea for colleges to “reconstruct the unity of knowledge” is futile unless some of us actually know how to go about doing this.

Another curious detail in Gregorian’s essay is his choice of terminology.  He does not call for a construction of the unity of knowledge but a reconstruction, which suggests that American colleges once enjoyed a unified approach to education.  So where did that go?  And how might we bring it back? Could it be that what we need is to rediscover the unifier of knowledge which we somehow lost along the way?

In the first chapter of Colossians the apostle Paul writes that by Jesus Christ “all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.  He is before all things and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16-17).  And a little later Paul says that “in [Christ] are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:3).  If Paul is correct-and I suspect he is-then we have found the true unifier of all knowledge, the remedy to the crisis in higher education described by Gregorian.

Many people still labor under the delusion that a “neutral” education is possible.  Their recipe: Insert soul here; add factual data of diverse kinds; increase ambient social temperature; allow to incubate for three and two-thirds years; and-boom schnitzel!–an Educated Person. As if human beings really could be completely impartial and dispassionate.  As if education was a simple matter of pouring facts into persons.  As if there was such a thing as a view from nowhere.

One of the virtues of postmodernism is its rejection of the myth of neutrality, whether regarding education or any other sphere of human activity.  There is a person-relativity to knowledge, the postmodernists tell us, and even if we cannot agree with their extreme pronouncements about relativism, we Christians should acknowledge this much.  The ultimate reality is a Person, and absolute truth is relative to that Person.  What American higher education has lost is not a “what” or “it” but He who is the source of everything and brings meaning and purpose to all human activities, from learning to laughter to lovemaking.

As regards our current crisis in higher education, as with so many things in life, to discover the cause is also to find the cure.  Once upon a time in this country all our great colleges and universities were founded on Christ.  Harvard’s motto was typical: “veritas in Christi gloriam” (truth for the glory of Christ).  Jesus was the center around which they orbited, but over time they drifted out of that orbit.  The image in Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming” comes to mind:  “Turning and turning in the widening gyre; The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.”  Jesus Christ is the true Falconer, the launching point of all knowledge and the center from which all wisdom derives.  But less and less our culture hears his call.

The loss of the unity of knowledge in higher education is a consequence of the rejection of a Christian worldview.  The only way this unity can be reconstructed is through Christian education.  The bad news is that higher education has fallen a long way, and the road to cultural redemption will be hard.  But in Christ there is always good news.  A millennium and a half ago things looked really bad for Western civilization.  Radical skepticism had prevailed in a war ravaged and disease stricken culture.  Truth and the unity of knowledge appeared as lifeless corpses.  Who would have thought the best days were yet to come for Western Civilization?

So what reconstructed the West?  What brought us out of the Dark Ages and into the light?  Was it not the gospel?  And how did the Christian worldview survive such difficult, apparently hopeless times?  It was Christian communities, an underground culture of hope, centered on Truth and devoted to the Christ who unifies all knowledge.  In short, Christianity saved Western Civilization.  I don’t know if we are heading into another dark age, as some have suggested.  But whether or not that’s so, the West needs to be redeemed again.  And if Christianity saved Western civilization once, it can happen again.  It can happen through the same underground culture of hope that pulled it off the first time.  And Christian colleges can be as pivotal as they were the first time.  The founding of the universities of Paris, Bologna, and Salerno were decisive for the advance of Christian thought in the 13th century and beyond.  Christian higher education must play a similar role in the years to come if we are to see a true redemption of Western culture.

Now, to return to Sproul’s question, my colleagues at Taylor and other Christian colleges do have an overarching purpose.  We do know the kind of person we are trying to produce-a person whose Christian worldview permeates the whole of his or her life.  By God’s grace we can still hear the falconer, and it is our job to enable our students to do so as well.  Whatever our specialties, research projects, disciplinary paradigms, or technological preoccupations, we must not forget whom we orbit.  It is he who holds all things together and “in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”