The Possibility of Prayer - A Review

The cliché trifecta of spiritual disciplines that get tossed out whenever we talk about discipleship in Christian circles are prayer, Bible reading, and attending church.

When discussing the application of Romans 12:1–2, “How do we get our minds transformed?” Pray, read the Bible, go to church. “How do we imitate Paul as he imitated Christ?” Pray, read the Bible, go to church.

If those aren’t the exact words you’ve heard for decades, they’re probably close, or you’ve recently come to Christ, or you grew up in a vastly different theological tradition. If so, just trust me, this is a thing.

There is plenty of encouragement for reading the Bible. It usually comes in a spurt around December and January every year when congregations print out Bible reading plans and encourage folks to read them. Many folks start out the year well exploring the contours of Genesis and then getting lost somewhere around February in the book of Leviticus. Like the rush of gym memberships, we do well for a little while at the beginning of the year, but life and the habits of our normal routine quickly conquer what feels like an added extra in the schedule.

At least there are resources for Bible reading. Prayer seems a much harder nut to crack.

John Starke’s book, The Possibility of Prayer: Finding Stillness with God in a Restless World, is a resource that many people may find useful in developing the spiritual discipline of prayer. The book begins with the assumption that prayer is not simply something that pastors and seminary professors—you know, the super saints—are called to do. Instead, prayer is both a duty and a privilege for all believers. He manages to make his case in a concise book that realistically anticipates the challenges for many believers to carve out time to pray.

The book is divided into two parts, each with six chapters. In part one, Starke explores the difficulties of prayer in our always-on, perpetually distracted world. The liquidity of modernity teaches us to believe that we are behind schedule and that if we simply devoted a little more time to productivity, we could get through the next project we would have a little breathing room for important, but non-essential stuff like prayer. The problem is that the breathing room never comes. Starke also works through the general difficulty of prayer. It is hard. Especially for those who have an instantaneous dopamine rush in their pockets at all times, the idea of sitting still for a few minutes to contemplate the holy and wait on the Divine seems impossible. Apart from God’s grace, it is, in fact. Starke’s argument is that prayer is hard, but that it is vitally important. The harder it gets because of cultural and personal stresses the more important it is. This theme sets up the second part of the book, which discusses the practical side of prayer.

In part two, Starke moves beyond his case for prayer into reflections on the practical side. In this portion of the book he tries to balance the more theoretical themes of practicing prayer with specific comments about the content of prayer. He successfully avoids duplicating the formula often offered—ACTS, mirroring the Lord’s Prayer, etc.—and instead works through life structures that can be vitally important to a life of prayer. This begins with seeing prayer as communion with God, rather than an opportunity to self-improve or get a shopping list before the almighty. That approach to prayer shapes the way that we pray, which opens us up to a Christian approach to meditation (not the mind-emptying approach of some Eastern varieties, but a mindful contemplation of God, his attributes, and his goodness). Prayer, however, requires solitude. That is exactly what it is hardest to obtain in our always-on world. We are addicted to the tools that are keeping us from God on a regular basis. Prayer should also include patterns of fasting and feasting. We fast from worldly goods (media and food) for the purpose of prayer and to be reminded of our reliance on God. We should end those fasts with a feast—a rich fellowship with others in celebration of God’s goodness. Starke also highlights the importance of other spiritual rhythms for developing a life of prayer, especially Sabbath and regular participation in corporate worship. It becomes apparent by the end of this portion of the book that prayer is more than what one does for a few minutes a day, but it is a pattern of life that is God-centric and deliberately distinct from the patterns of this world.

The Possibility of Prayer may not have been the best title for this work, because the content of the book goes well beyond the particular act of prayer into habits of life that lead to holiness. To be fair, these are also habits of life that enable to practice of prayer. My criticism of the title is, therefore, muted, but it is possible for someone to pick up this book expecting a more detailed how-to manual or at least a range of options with specific instructions. That is not what is offered in this book. Starke would have had to write a different book.

The book Starke did write is encouraging, Scripture-saturated, and helpful. Someone might pick up this book and find they got something different from what they expected, but they would still be getting something worthwhile.

In particular, Starke walks through a number of Psalms in the book, highlighting their importance as prayers to God. They are, in one sense, example prayers for us as we seek the words to communicate with the Almighty. Rather than simply stating that and offering a formula for praying the Psalms, Starke provides an example of how the Psalms can enrich our prayer life.

Additionally, The Possibility of Prayer, challenges the busyness of our culture—the very characteristic that seems to make prayer impossible. As we try to put together a plan for holiness in the rubble of civilization, this is the sort of book that can remind us why certain bricks are to be avoided.

The Possibility of Prayer: Finding Stillness with God in a Restless World

By Starke, John

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

Xmas and Christmas - A Lesson from C. S. Lewis

Among C. S. Lewis’s lesser-known works is an essay, “Xmas and Christmas: A Lost Chapter from Herodutus” where Lewis does an anthropological analysis of the relationship between so much of what goes on during the December time frame and the actual purpose of the Christmas holiday. The essay does not pack the rhetorical punch of his more significant works like “The Weight of Glory” or “Meditations on a Toolshed,” but it is helpful in pointing out the strangeness of what we so often take for granted.

For example, Lewis highlights the fact that seasonal décor tends to romanticize antiquated styles, like coaches and coachmen, as if they have some relation to the actual significance of the season. This is evidenced by the practice of sending cards to one another. As Lewis wryly writes:

“Every citizen is obliged to send to each of his friends and relations a square piece of hard paper stamped with a picture, which in their speech is called an Exmas-card. But the pictures represent birds sitting on branches, or trees with a dark green prickly leaf, or else men in such garments as the Niatirbians [Lewis’s transparent play on a term for residents of Britain] believe that their ancestors wore two hundred years ago riding in coaches such as their ancestors used, or houses with snow on their roofs. And the Niatirbians are unwilling to say what these picture have to do with the festival, guarding (a I suppose) some sacred mystery. And because all men must send these cards the marketplace is filled with the crowd of those buying them, so that there is great labour and weariness.”

The worst is when one thinks they are done with their card sending, but finds an unexpected mailing from an acquaintance that demands yet another card in return. Such an unexpected piece of correspondence may even require another trip out into the mobbed marketplace.

But it isn’t just Exmas cards that are the problem:

“They also send gifts to one another, suffering the same things about the gifts as about the cards. For every citizen has to guess the value of the gift which every friend will send him so that he may send one of equal value, whether he can afford it or not.”

This droll description of the tensions of the season make for amusing copy, but Lewis is doing more than simply arguing that people are silly with their expectations of tit for tat cards and gifts. His larger point is that the commercial and social trappings of Xmas have the potential to mask the true significance of Christmas.

Lewis writes,

“Such, then, are their customs about Exmas. But the few among the Niatrirbians have also a festival, separate and to themselves, called Crissmas, which is on the same day as Exmas. And those who keep Chrissmas . . . rise early on that day with shining faces and go before sunrise to certain temples where they partake of a sacred feast.”

There is a stark difference between the excesses of Exmas and the worship of Chrissmas. Which, of course, is intended to make the reader think about his own practices during this sacred, but culturally harried time.

Breaking Bread with the Dead

The life of the mind is a topic of growing significance as the pace of change, with its assaults on our mental stability, continue to accelerate. Some sources estimate there are more than 2 million books published worldwide each year. And that volume of content is in addition to the newspapers, magazines, blogs, tweets, and emails that also vie for our time.

Along with the flash and glamour of new publications, our attention is also directed to “old books,” which are often celebrated as “classics” that are critical to becoming properly formed as humans or derided as elements of a “racist patriarchy” that must be resisted by any means and at any cost.

In three books, written through the last decade, Alan Jacobs has drafted a series of books that wrestle with the life of the mind, the nature of reading, and value of ancient literary history. This is an odd series. Each book comes from a different publisher, has a distinct thesis, and wrestles with a different topic. There is no thematic unity and little hope of a boxed set, which seems to be the hallmark of such sequences in our day. The progression of topics, too, does not seem as unified as one might expect.

And yet, Jacobs admits that these books are in a series, and that they are related, as disparate as they may seem. The careful reader will, indeed, find that there is a connection between them all. Not a connection that requires reading the books in sequence, but that these are markers, perhaps, staking out the boundaries of a mind alive to the unity of the world and its possibilities. The series is by no means complete, so it will not surprise me to find another short book set out to help readers navigate the modern world, published in a few more years.

Jacobs is, by profession, a teacher of literature. He has also done significant work as a cultural critic. In this he is much like C. S. Lewis, a thinker with whom Jacobs has demonstrated significant interest and expertise. It is not difficult, as a result, to find echoes of Lewis throughout Jacobs’ work, especially in this latest book, Breaking Bread with the Dead, which shares a common theme with Lewis’ essay, “On the Reading of Old Books.”

Breaking Bread with the Dead obviously comes out in favor of reading old books. But read in context with The Pleasures of Reading in an Age of Distraction, it is abundantly clear that Jacobs is not advertising the “checklist” approach of slogging through “Greats,” which is a quest to max out your score on Facebook quizzes and a recipe for gobbling a gourmet feast without savoring the marinated centuries between works—in other words, it represents the sin of gluttony. Rather, he is arguing that reading old books is necessary to understand our times and to live in them.

Jacobs clearly states this goal toward the end of his introduction,

To open yourself to the past is to make yourself less vulnerable to the cruelties of descending in tweeted wrath on a young woman whose clothing you disapprove of, or firing an employee because of a tween you didn’t take time to understand, or responding to climate change either by ignoring it or by indulging in impotent rage. You realize that you need to obey the impulses of this moment—which, it is fair to say, never tend to produce a tranquil mind.

This book is an essay that wanders toward a single goal, rather than an argument with chapters neatly divided into segments of support and refutation. It is a literary essay that seeks to deal with the questions of the day. One of the most pertinent questions for our tiny historical moment is whether one dare to read authors whose social and moral views differ—whether greatly or radically—from our own.

Jacobs begins by examining the problem of presentism, which is the tendency to see our particular cultural moment as the moral apex of humanity and to denigrate all who have ever had a differing opinion. Thus, the reading of Robinson Crusoe must be abandoned because it is racist, sexist, colonial, and a bunch of other bad things that are native and irrevocably attached to old, dead, white men. Jacobs argues that in order to properly understand our own moment, we must interact with minds that came before our moment, even when they do, in fact, have racist, sexist, and colonial ideas.

The concept for engaging with those we disagree with is represented as “table fellowship,” which is obviously conveyed by the title of the book. Jacobs understands this has the center of the book: “sitting at the table with our ancestors and learning to know them in their difference from, as well as their likeness to, us.” He argues that reading even those with whom we disagree—by inviting them to our table—we open ourselves up to a greater understanding of their time and ours. But at the same time, since we invite these sometimes-scraggly guests through the practice of reading, we control the interaction, so that when they get to rowdy we can, with little effort, simply disinvite them from the meal by closing the book and moving to another guest.

Breaking bread with the dead offers us challenges to our own worldview—exactly the reason many activist “academics” want them “cancelled”—and force us to examine our unexamined assumptions. They also force us to wrestle with the reality that our morality du jour has some of the same barbarities of a previous age (albeit with a different shade of lipstick) and that it sometimes is a positive logical outcome of a trajectory we might find in older literature, if we but take the time to consider it. Reading old books helps us to understand ourselves and our time better.

As morality has become increasingly unpinned from any sense of permanence or overt morality, the pace of change from one absolute standard to another has become exhausting. A group of racist trolls on a social media site turn the “OK” symbol into a symbol for “white power” and suddenly everyone who uses the symbol, with its long-standing cultural significance, is now complicit in white supremacy. Unless, of course, someone who is of the right color or political affiliation uses it, in which case it means what it has consistently meant. The tyranny of the present undermines every sense of peace. As Jacobs argues, reading old books is the best way to remind ourselves of our own finitude, the temporary nature of our culture’s moral conclusions, and deepens our souls to better understand those who differ from us. In other words, breaking bread with the dead helps make us more human and reminds us of the humanity of others.

Breaking Bread with the Dead: A Reader's Guide to a More Tranquil Mind

By Jacobs, Alan

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

Cultural Catechesis

"Together our mind-molding media constitute a nonorganized religion of missionaries who are evangelizing religious people out of their primitive superstitions like poverty, chastity and obedience and into the missionaries' new, 'enlightened' religion of greed, lust and pride (that is, money, sex and power); out of peace with neighbor, self and God and into peace with the world, the flesh and the devil." - Peter Kreeft, How to Win the Culture War, pg 53.

How much time per week does the average Bible-thumping, confessional evangelical Christian spend in church activities?

Even for those who are at church every time the doors are open this is probably 5-6 hours per week. A small percentage of those individuals will be heavily invested in daily Bible reading, listening or watching to sermons from biblically faithful preachers, and reading good books. But as the hours of catechesis into faithful Christianity grows, the number of people in the population declines exponentially.

The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis: Essays in Honor of Michael Travers

Wipf and Stock

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The average time spent being catechized by scriptural influences will be much lower when you count in the quarterly attenders who claim to be “born again,” but whose engagement with the body of Christ has been choked out by travel soccer leagues, frequent business trips, weekend travel, or brunch. There are certainly exceptions, but many people who vocally claim to be Christians on their Facebook wall probably sit through one 1-hour service per week at best and often much less.

Now, consider how much time those same Christians spend listening to talk radio, watching television news, reading articles (or at least headlines) of websites, or select the proper meme to reflect the appropriate level of outrage at the current flashpoint in the culture war.

Who are most people receiving most of their catechesis from?

Let’s be honest. Who are most of us receiving most of our catechesis from?

The answer is fairly obvious: Even our most faithful church attenders are often being catechized more thoroughly by their media intake than by the word of God.

Is our future bound up in whether Sean Hannity or Rachel Maddow are correct about the trajectory of our world? Can Jim Cramer help us know how to store up heavenly treasures?

And, again, as Paul writes to the Philippians: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (Phil 4:8)

If we hold the Gospel to be of first importance, we will think about the true, honorable, just and excellent more than the battles around us. If we do that, the sources and time spent on our catechesis will likely change dramatically.

C. S. Lewis on Christianity as a Means to an End

The genius of C. S. Lewis is, perhaps, most clearly evident in his devotionally rewarding, theologically rich, and whimsical book, The Screwtape Letters. Those brief snippets of supposed letters from a senior devil to a junior one get at many of the issues that were wrong with Christianity in his day, which happen to be remarkably similar to those that are wrong in our day.

In Letter 25, Screwtape writes to Wormwood:

“The real trouble about the set your patient is living is that it is merely Christianity. . . . What we want, if men become Christians at all, is to keep them in the state of mind I call ‘Christianity AND.’ You know––Christianity and the Crisis, Christianity and the New Psychology, Christianity and the New Order, Christianity and Faith Healing, Christianity and Psychical Research, Christianity and Vegetarianism, Christianity and Spelling Reform. If they must be Christians let them at least be Christians with a difference. Substitute for faith itself some Fashion with a Christian colouring.”

Depending on who reads that paragraph the object to the right of the “And” will vary. It could be social justice, anti-racism, prosperity, comfort, political conservatism, or doctrinal orthodoxy (when pursued for its own sake). In other words, this isn’t a “left” or “right” issue, it is one that can impact all Christians and often the “And” is adopted in the name of making Christianity purer and more proper.

In Letter 23, we get prelude to the “Christianity And” discussion:

“We do want, and want very much, to make men treat Christianity as a means; preferably, of course, as a means to their own advancement, but, failing that, as a means to anything––even to social justice. The thing to do is to get a man at first to value social justice as a thing which the Enemy [God] demands, and then work him on to the stage at which he values Christianity because it may produce social justice. For the Enemy will not be used as a convenience. Men or nations who think they can revive the Faith in order to make a good society might just as well think they can use the stairs of Heaven as a short cut to the nearest chemist’s shop. Fortunately it is quite easy to coax humans round this little corner. Only today I have found a passage in a Christian writer where he recommends his own version of Christianity on the ground that ‘only such a faith can outlast the death of old cultures and the birth of new civilisations.’ You see the little rift? ‘Believe this, not because it is true, but for some other reason.’ That’s the game.”

To be clear, Lewis prized actual social justice. Many casual readers of Lewis would be surprised at just how much he wrote on particular social issues of his time in a wide range of periodicals. In some areas he was quite advanced for his time and in other areas he sounds like the dinosaur he claimed to be. But the man was always arguing toward truth from Christianity. He was not attempting to use Christianity as a means to gain something else. This prevented him from falling into the trap of “Christianity And.”

The temptation in reading a moralist like Lewis is to look at what he wrote and say, “Boy, he gave those other guys a good drubbing. Wait until I post this quote on social media.”

The proper response to reading Lewis on these issues, especially in The Screwtape Letters, is to ask that more significant question, “In what ways have I fallen into the trap that Screwtape outlines.” If we are honest, we’ll probably find that we have been at least somewhat guilty at some point. As we pursue holiness, our task is more to knock off the rough edges of our own sanctification than to point out the problems of the other folks.

---

The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis: Essays in Honor of Michael Travers

Wipf and Stock

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Defeater Language and Critical Thinking

The habit of reflexively affirming current evolutionary theory is inculcated into new generations of students, too. For example, in a section on protein structure in a college biochemistry textbook we read:

Keep in mind that only a small faction of the myriads of possible [protein] sequences are likely to have unique stable conformations. Evolution has, of course, selected such sequences for use in biological systems.

Note that jaunty ‘of course.’ Yet we don’t have anywhere near sufficient experimental evidence for the book’s conclusion. The authors’ confidence isn’t based on empirical knowledge––it’s feigned knowledge. An unembellished second sentence would read plainly, ‘Such sequences are used in biological systems.”

Gratuitous affirmations of a dominant theory can mesmerize the unwary. They lull people into assuming that objectively difficult problems don’t really matter. That they’ve been solved already. Or will be solved soon. Or are unimportant. Or something. They actively distract readers from noticing an idea’s shortcoming. ‘Of course,’ students are effectively prompted, ‘everyone knows what happened here––right? You’d be blind not to see it––right?’ But the complacency isn’t the fruit of data or experiments. It comes from the powerful social force of everyone in the group nodding back, ‘Of course!’

When references to it can be dropped from explanations with no loss of information, when proffered evidence for it boils down to a circle of mutually nodding heads, alarm bells should blare that the theory is a free rider.

---Michael Behe, Darwin Devolves, 24-25.

Whether one agrees with Behe’s theory of intelligent design or not, this passage from his 2019 book, Darwin Devolves: The New Science About DNA that Challenges Evolution, is worthy of consideration for those that claim to seek truth.

The finiteness of the human experience requires that we absorb certain assumptions on faith. William Clifford famously claimed that accepting something as true with insufficient evidence was morally wrong. His exaggerated bid for empiricism, however, is simply impossible. We simply lack the time, energy, and objectivity to evaluate all truth claims exhaustively.

And yet, there are times when falling into the habit of accepting a consensus understanding of something can be decidedly unhelpful. At times, advances in technology and society are held back because “everyone knows” that something is true. Everyone knew that darker skin meant an inferior person through much of the early modern period. There was apparent evidence in the “primitive” quality of African culture, for example. But more often, the point was assumed in Western cultures rather than proved in more than a cursory way.

Cursory proof often takes the form of appeals to consensus to fill in limited available information, creating the image of a comprehensive and convincing argument. As Behe points out, these arguments are often much less convincing when they are presented without the logical “defeaters.”

Words like “obviously,” “of course,” and “clearly” can be useful rhetorical terms. There are points at which the evidence is so consistent that one can claim that something “clearly” indicates something else. But these are also dangerous terms that can be used to defeat sound arguments without engaging them.

When an expert in the field states that “clearly” something must be true. Or that “obviously” this leads to that, they might be skipping some important evidence. Or––a popular tactic among revisionist biblical scholars––“the best scholars argue” for a particular position they are often trying to subvert a really contentious debate by presenting a certain way of thinking as “best” when it simply agrees with their position. Orthodox biblical scholars sometimes do the same thing, of course, dismissing valuable readings from revisionist scholars without fully considering them simply because the individual does not approach the Bible as an authentic testimony to God’s working in history; that presumption does have significant impacts on the resultant reading of Scripture, but—as the saying goes—sometimes a blind squirrel finds a nut.

In any case, it’s worth thinking about the way arguments are put on display and the amount of defeater language that is used. It should raise red flags in our minds when we read “obviously,” “clearly,” or “certainly” in places where they are not needed. It may be that the author is conveying a greater amount of confidence than the evidence warrants.

Darwin Devolves: The New Science About DNA That Challenges Evolution

By Behe, Michael J.

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The Neglected C. S. Lewis - A Review

One of the greatest frustrations for fans of C. S. Lewis is the number of fake quotes attributed to him. Some of them seems as obvious as the old joke, “Never trust information from the internet – Abraham Lincoln.” Some of the misquotes are, however, less obvious fabrications that distort people’s understanding of C. S. Lewis and undermine his legacy by trivializing it.

There are several contributing factors to the regular misquotation of C. S. Lewis. First, Lewis was a fabulous writer with a gift for turning a phrase, so he is imminently quotable. This is nowhere more apparent than in the exceedingly useful volume edited by Wayne Martindale and Jerry Root, The Quotable Lewis, which serves as a topical index of much of Lewis’s thought as well as fodder for social media posts.

A more significant contributor to the misquotation of Lewis is that too few people have read enough C. S. Lewis to recognize the difference between the true and counterfeit quotes. Many Christians know the name but have read nothing, so they like and share fake quotes out of ignorance. Many others have read some of the A-side works of C. S. Lewis: The Chronicles of Narnia, Screwtape Letters, Mere Christianity, or another of his more popular works. Nearly everything Lewis wrote has some value, so readers ought not to be discouraged. But there is an entire B-side of C. S. Lewis’s writings that are much more rarely discussed, even in academic research on Lewis and the Inklings.

Professionally, Lewis was a university level teacher of English literature. While his apologetic work was prolific and lucrative (he gave most of the money away), he also made significant contributions in his academic discipline. The books he wrote on literature and theory are often unknown even to fans of C. S. Lewis. And yet, his English Literature in the Sixteenth Century Excluding Drama was a landmark work comprehensively researched. His Discarded Image and Allegory of Love continue to be texts used in classes on medieval literature in both secular and religious academic settings.

Mark Neal and Jerry Root have set out to provide an introduction to some of the B-side works of C. S. Lewis in their recent book, The Neglected C. S. Lewis. In this relatively short volume, the authors explore some of the less popular works of Lewis that are no less valuable in understanding the mind of C. S. Lewis and, in fact, help illuminate what he does in some of his more popular works.

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This is not a comprehensive volume. There are number of neglected works of Lewis that Neal and Root do not explore, likely because of space constraints. However, the volumes they do highlight are helpful. In the eight chapters of this text we get an overview of (1) The Allegory of Love, (2) The Personal Heresy, (3) Arthurian Torso, (4) English Literature in the Sixteenth Century excluding Drama, (5) Studies in Words, (6) An Experiment in Criticism, (7) The Discarded Image, and (8) Selected Literary Essays.

Some of these volumes are difficult to find (especially Arthurian Torso and English Literature), while others have been reprinted by reputable presses to ensure continued availability. The common links among them are they tend to be connected to Lewis’s proper field of study rather than his more popular apologetic work.

It might seem to some readers of Lewis enough to read Chronicles, Mere Christianity, and Screwtape, enjoy the readability and devotional quality, and move on. However, to understand the framework that Lewis is working from (which he partially unpacks in essays like “De Descriptione Temporum,” which is his inaugural address for his Chair at Cambridge), scholars and students need to read beyond the A-side of Lewis’s works into his more neglected works.

Neal and Root have done a great service to the field of Lewis studies by providing an accessible introduction to some of Lewis’s lesser-read works. This is the sort of auxiliary text that could accompany a college course on C. S. Lewis that is housed in the English Department of a university. For those engaged in the academic study of C. S. Lewis, this is an exceedingly helpful way to get an overview of and prioritize the study of volumes that are important, but off the beaten path.

The target audience of The Neglected C. S. Lewis is not the high school aficionado or the casually interested. However, this survey of some of the neglected works of Lewis is an essential part of a Lewis scholar’s library and a key resource for those looking for new areas of study in the increasingly crowded field of Inklings studies.

The Neglected C.S. Lewis: Exploring the Riches of His Most Overlooked Books

By Neal, Mark, Root, Jerry

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

Dorothy and Jack: The Transforming Friendship of Dorothy L. Sayers and C. S. Lewis - A Review

C. S. Lewis is a figure that fascinates contemporary, English speaking Christians. His writing is connected to the deep well of Medieval thought, especially the pervasively Christian tide of that thought. For the modern Christian, C. S. Lewis is a gateway to orthodox Christian thought from a different era that has been adapted to wrestle with the problems of modernity.

As a result, of the writing of C. S. Lewis biographies there is no end, and much reading of them can weary the body. Most of the biographies of Lewis in recent decades have simply rehashed old themes, picked over the same published data, and repackaged the same accounts in a slightly different structure.

And yet, periodically there are new approaches that expose different facets of Lewis scholarship. Harry Poe’s Becoming C. S. Lewis, for example, has an innovative approach and includes new data. Or Alan Jacob’s book, The Year of Our Lord 1943: Christian Humanism in an Age of Crisis, that looks at Lewis alongside other Christian thinkers like Dorothy L. Sayers, T. S. Eliot, and W. H. Auden. These varied approaches are vital to the field of study and are useful in inviting new scholars and writers into a rich community of thought.

Gina Dalfonzo has produced a delightful volume that looks at the relationship between Dorothy L. Sayers and C. S. Lewis. This account is, of course, biographical. However, by focusing on the relationship between these two great Christian thinkers and by including Sayers alongside Lewis, this moves from garden-variety biography to a valuable contribution to the literature of the field.

Sayers is the lesser celebrated of the two. Lamentably, she has not received the attention her work warrants. There are, I believe several reasons for this. First, Sayers was much more private than Lewis. While she had deep friendships and sometimes includes her own experience in her writing, it is hard to truly know Sayers by simply reading her published works. Her letters and the biographies written by friends help, but compared to Lewis, she is a stranger even to fans of her work. (The fact that she hid the existence of her son from close friends shows how private a person she was.) Second, Sayers was much more reluctant to become a spokesperson for Christianity than Lewis, so there is less of her work that deals with the topics that many Christians find so important. Third, though Barbara Reynolds has done the world a great service in editing Sayers’ letters and writing about her, Walter Hooper had more opportunity and was more effective in editing and promoting Lewis posthumously.

Though Sayers was less known, she is no less significant. Her detective fiction is par excellence. Her translations of Dante are still in print. And her essays and plays still move readers. For many young scholars who have found the field of study surrounding the Inklings to be overcrowded, Sayers is an “Inkling-adjacent” thinker with room still available for original topics.

Dalfonzo’s book, Dorothy and Jack, is an example of solid, new synthesis. Her bibliography shows little original research (i.e., there is little evidence of her diving into archives in various locations), but she has put the available information together in a helpful way. Dalfonzo has read through and correlated some of the correspondence of both figures, compared the timelines of their lives to create a roughly synchronous chronological retelling, and put together ideas from secondary sources for both Lewis and Sayers. The result is thoroughly enjoyable to read for the average reader, but original and enriching for those interested in academic studies.

Summary

This short volume is divided into seven chapters. The first chapter deals with the early life of the two friends, in some respects very similar and in others very different, and extends roughly until their first introduction to one another. Chapter Two moves into the early stages of their friendship, beginning with a fan letter written by Sayers to Lewis and through the first few years of their growing mutual admiration, which consisted mostly of letter writing. The third chapter shows how the friendship blossomed between Lewis and Sayers as they were able to give each other critical feedback alongside pointed praise. Their friendship was one of equals who valued thoughtful criticism as much as loud, undeserved congratulations. Chapter Four explores Lewis’ attitude toward women in general and the relationship both Lewis and Sayers had with Charles Williams. For those interested in the attitude of the Inklings toward women and Sayers’ own opinions on society and women, this is an engaging chapter.

The fifth chapter focuses on the worldview of both Sayers and Lewis. Both were deeply influenced by the thought of the middle ages. Lewis famously described himself as a dinosaur, which title he also ascribed to Sayers affectionately. The title was well received. To understand their unusual friendship, the reader must understand how different the two were from the rest of the world and how similar they were in their engagement in medieval thinking. Chapter Six covers Sayers’ relationship with Joy Gresham, Lewis’ late-in-life spouse. We see similarities in the personalities of Gresham and of Sayers, as well as possible sympathy between Sayers and Lewis in that both were married to divorcees. The final chapter wraps the book up, drawing together several streams and highlights the friendship as one of mutual admiration and equal respect.

Analysis and Conclusion

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The book is well-researched and clearly written. Dalfonzo takes contested positions on a few topics like the Lewis-Anscomb debate, the Lewis-Moore relationship, and a few others. Readers may disagree with Dalfonzo, but there is a reason those topics are contested—the evidence is muddled at best. Perhaps more controversially, the underlying theme in Dorothy and Jack is the possibility of meaningful friendship between men and women, outside of marriage. Dalfonzo shares a vision with Aimee Byrd, as she developed it in Why Can’t We Be Friends? But Lewis and Sayers are such unique individuals that it isn’t clear they are a good test case for Byrd’s ideas. Whether one finally agrees with Dalfonzo on that issue does not diminish the value of this book.

Many readers may not notice, but for academics the use of the Sayers’ and Lewis’ first names may be a bit jarring. After all, as Dalfonzo notes, it was twelve years into their fifteen-year friendship before the two referred to each other by their Christian names. However, the quality of the research makes up for the feeling of informality (for those who care about such things) and the informality serves to illustrate the friendship between the two. This reads like a popular book, but the research will warrant consideration by a more academic audience. Sometimes one size does not perfectly fit all.

This is an excellent volume. Those interested in Lewis or Sayers should immediately buy it or, at least, put it on their wish list not to be long forgotten. It deserves a place alongside books like Humphrey Carpenters’ The Inklings, the Zaleski’s The Fellowship, and Colin Duriez’ Tolkien and C. S. Lewis: The Gift of Friendship. This is a solid work of secondary literature that makes a meaningful contribution to the study of both Sayers and Lewis, while being accessible and interesting to the casual reader.

Dorothy and Jack

By Dalfonzo

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NOTE: I was granted access to uncorrected proofs of this volume.

Human Goodness and the Perfectibility of Society

Humans were created good in the very beginning. They were good in every way. After God created the whole universe, including Adam and Eve, he looked at it all and observed it was all “very good.” (Gen 1:31) But the first humans made a choice to defy God’s command and they ate of the forbidden fruit. As a result, everything in creation was touched by a curse to remind humanity that the way the world is is not the way the world was meant to be. (Gen 3:16–19)

It didn’t take very long for sin to show itself in human society in powerful ways. One generation after Adam’s sin, one son murdered another in a fit of jealousy over God’s affections. (Gen 4:8) A few generations later Lamech uses his freedom and power to unjustly kill a man as disproportionate revenge for wounding him (Gen 4:23-24). Not too many generations, Scripture records, “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.” (Gen 6:5)

Despite the wickedness of humanity and the corruption of creation, God preserved eight of his people on a boat constructed because of Noah’s faithful obedience to God’s command. After the flood, God released those eight people and the animals back onto the earth and made a covenant with both the humans and the rest of creation not to destroy it again. (Gen 9:8–17) But despite God’s grace, the old story repeated itself over and over again. Humans fell into patterns of sin that included oppression, violence, and greed. These are patterns that seem to repeat themselves down to the present day.

And yet, despite their continual disobedience, humans remain good in God’s sight. So good, in fact, that he came himself in the form of a human with the name of Jesus.

Jesus came to restore the goodness of humans and to bring salvation from sin, but the process of redemption is ongoing. Though all creation witnessed moral perfection in the person of Jesus Christ, all of creation continues to live under the effects of Adam’s sin. Even those who have been redeemed by Christ’s blood on the cross still regularly fall short of the moral goodness that God demands.

One of the central purposes of government is restrain evil. As the apostle Peter notes, we are to understand that “governors [were] sent by [God] to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.” (I Pet 2:14)

The government is necessary as a means to prevent the powerful from oppressing the weak. Among the things necessary for a healthy society are the rule of law and enforcement of property rights. These are proper roles for the government.

The worst documented humanitarian abuses in the world have occurred when government has moved from the role of attempting to restrain evil to creating a perfect society. According to C. S. Lewis, this impulse is common among many forms of modern government, as he noted in his essay, “Is Progress Possible?,”

“The modern State exists not to protect our rights but to do us good or make us good–anyway, to do something to us or to make us something. . . . We are less [government leaders’] subjects than their wards, pupils, or domestic animals. There is nothing left of which we can say to them, ‘Mind your own business.’ Our whole lives are their business.”

The pursuit of social improvement requires that government become engaged in social interaction. In order to move from obedience to the law to moral improvement, there must be an allegiance to the power of the government.

In modern forms of government that are seeking to perfect (or at least enhance) the moral fabric of society, that allegiance is often sought in the name of superior information, which often goes under the name of science. If government is to improve society and improvement is measured by science, then good must be scientifically measurable and the theories of advancement offered by science must be obeyed absolutely.

As C. S. Lewis writes, “I dread government in the name of science. That is how tyrannies come in. In every age the men who want us under their thumb, if they have any sense, will put forward the particular pretension which the hopes and fears of that age render most potent.”

If science is seen as the means to determine policy, then a party need merely control the direction and flavor of scientific research and publishing to change the direction of society and reinforce control. This is what is happening now in China. It is what happened through the German propaganda during WWII.

Human sin is exactly the reason why therapeutic structures of society are bound to be unhelpful, because it gives the state or community to continue to shape and reshape human behavior according to whatever the contemporary consensus is and by whatever means are socially approved. It seems like tenderness, but, as Walker Percy once wrote, “tenderness leads to the gas chamber.” Sin corrupts everything and ensures that even movements begin with good intentions don’t usually end there.

The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis: Essays in Honor of Michael Travers

Wipf and Stock

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To Think Christianly - A Review

One of the challenges for Christians in modernity has been trying to integrate faith will all areas on knowledge. Some fundamentalists attempted this by simply abandoning the public square and retreating into their own corners of the world with independent publishing, music, and entertainment that mimic the world, usually at a lower level of quality, but maintain ideological purity. Some revisionists simply accept what the world produces, call it good or attempt to relate Christian themes to the very non-Christian content and argue that everything is permissible. A third response has been to attempt to engage the culture and its artifacts from a meaningfully Christian perspective and highlight the ways that the world’s wisdom is consistent with Christianity and the points of difference.

All three of these methods of relating to the world around us can be witnessed within Christian education. Christians invented the university, in part because of the Bible’s message that all of creation speaks God’s name. Thus, all of creation should be understood in unity—a uni-versity. But as modernism undermined the place of God in creation—often denying any role through deism and later his very existence through atheism—those naturalistic ideas have largely taken over the educational spaces of the world. This left many Christians without a place to stand to think Christianly.

One response to the crisis of education was to create separate Christian universities. Those take several forms, with varying degrees of openness to broader scholarship. The Christian College movement has both strengths and weakness. It rises above its worst instantiations of institutions like Oberlin, which no longer reflect their Christian heritage in any way, or some fundamentalist institutions which are notorious for tight control of messaging.

Another response to the crisis of education, however, was the creation of parachurch institutions that often ran parallel to other educational institutions with the express goal of helping Christians think about all of life from a distinctly Christian perspective. Charles Cotherman’s recent book, To Think Christianly: A History of L’Abri, Regent College, and the Christian Study Center Movement, presents an engaging account of how that parallel movement rose and has flourished.

L’Abri, of course, was the home of Francis and Edith Schaeffer in the Swiss Alps. They founded “The Shelter” as a place to ask hard questions and provide answers from an orthodox Christian perspective. That faith community grew over a period of years, primarily through word of mouth, until it became a pilgrimage for seekers, skeptics, and Christians seeking to find how to live out their faith. The Schaeffers provided hospitality for many, the gospel for all, and a safe place to seek answers in God’s world. L’Abri was a first of its kind community, which is why Thinking Christianly considers that project in the first chapter.

Chapter Two moves to a history of Regent College, which came chronologically after L’Abri and shared some themes, but was intended to bring a Christian element to other non-ministerial degrees. Cotherman details the origins of Regent College as an affiliate institution to a Canadian university. James Houston was the founder of Regent College and, indeed a significant figure within the Christian Study Center movement, which this book discusses. The informal L’Abri model of lay-training and the more formal Regent College model remain the two major options for bringing theological teaching to a broad audience.

In Chapters Three through Six Cotherman looks at four particularly Christian Study centers that tried to replicate either L’Abri or Regent College. The C. S. Lewis Institute  was originally an attempt to found a Regent like institution, but shifted to a more informal study center that exists and continues to attempt to help working professionals in multiple large metro areas integrate their faith, work and life. The Ligonier study center was very L’Abri-like when it was founded by R. C. Sproul in Western Pennsylvania. It was small, residential, and community oriented. However, the shift from audio tapes to videos drew Ligonier to shift its model, move to Florida, and focus less on community-based instruction. In California, an attempt was made to provide some discipleship in a study-center in Northern California. The center still exists near the University of California Berkeley as a Center of Distinction of the Graduate Theological Union, which has continued its existence but allowed it to chart a different path than the first two centers. Similarly, the Center for Christian Study near the University of Virginia functions to help seekers understand Christianity and Christians to integrate their studies with their Christianity. Each of these four centers looks different, but each is attempting to show how faith is consistent with and can strengthen studies in another area.

The final chapter deals with the Consortium of Christian Study Centers, which exists to encourage entities like the six discussed in the book to start, maintain, and grow. Spawned out of the same movement, this is an attempt to bring discipleship to many people who might otherwise struggle to find meaningful Christian engagement with their lives.

As storm clouds continue to gather over accreditation of orthodox Christian institutions, especially those who seek to embody biblical Christian sexuality, Christian study centers may be an attractive option for future students. Some are residential, but many are simply physically located near a campus, allowing students access to resources and fellowship that can help put the pieces together in the fractured intellectual environment of the modern university. Christian study centers have the potential of helping to develop a Christian mind. While distinctly Christian institutions of higher education have a place and should continue to exist, even when social forces disbar them from accreditation, Christian study centers may be a way to help build disciples for future generations of nurses, doctors, engineers, and teachers in a cost-effective and deeply integrated manner.

For those interested in the life of the mind, the history of L’Abri and similar institutions, and parallel educational opportunities to universities, this is a very interesting volume. It is well researched, engaging and thorough. The book focuses excessively on whether or not institutions have promoted egalitarianism of ministerial function, which seems strange given the focus is not on ministry within the church but ministry in the world. Overall, the level of interest in this niche topic seems excessive, but does overly distract from an otherwise solid book. The beginning of the book is also much more interesting than the latter portion, as the emphasis on successor organizations that many people have never heard of seems both highly selective and, at times, too far into the weeds. That fact, which might discourage general readers somewhat, is likely to increase the academic value of this book that deals carefully with the history of institutions slightly off the beaten path.

Overall, this is a useful volume, particularly for those thinking into the future about ways to help bring unity to the cacophony of the modern university. As institutions grow increasingly hostile to Christian student organizations, an independent study center may be a strong path forward for both evangelism and discipleship.

To Think Christianly: A History of L'Abri, Regent College, and the Christian Study Center Movement

By Cotherman, Charles E.

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.