Begotten or Made? - A Review

As news circulates that a Fairfax County Circuit Court judge recently use chattel property laws to make a decision about the fate of frozen embryos, we have another opportunity to consider the morality of various forms of artificial reproductive technology.

Though Oliver O’Donovan’s book, Begotten or Made?, was initially published in 1984, many Christians are unaware of any writing on these topics. As an ethicist, I have been asked more than once about the morality of in vitro fertilization (IVF), with the tacit assumption by the questioner that of course it was morally licit, please explain why. O’Donovan argues convincingly that it is most cases not moral. If anything, O’Donovan is too open to the possibility of a morally legitimate IVF, but his argument is rigorous and eloquent.

Begotten or Made? was originally a set of lectures. At the time they were commissioned, IVF was still a novel technology. O’Donovan deals less with the technique of artificial reproduction than he does with the theology behind it. His reasoning is sound, even as the technology has changed somewhat. By penetrating through the concreteness of the technique of IVF into the ideas that enable it, O’Donovan wrote a treatise that has stood the test of time.

O’Donovan begins by considering the purpose of medicine, which ought to be healing. He notes, “Christians should at this juncture confess their faith in the natural order as the good creation of God.” (15) This is important because it differentiates the process of healing from the process of making something. Much of the technology around artificial reproduction was designed to circumvent nature rather than to restore it.

In the second lecture, O’Donovan deals with what we now call transgenderism. He notes that this is another technology that is primarily oriented toward thwarting nature rather than healing. As such, it cannot be a form of medicine in any meaningful sense. This discussion was meant to show where divorcing reproduction from intercourse between a male and female. O’Donovan’s early thinking has turned to be prophetic. O’Donovan’s treatment of this issue remains one of the clearest, most succinct discussions of a raging topic. The book is worth reading simply for this chapter.

The third lecture explains why involving a donor in the procreative process is inherently immoral. O’Donovan deals with the moral deficiencies of replacing one of the parents within the family with (potentially) a stranger. Notably, he also deals carefully with potential objections raised by the Old Testament levirate marriage, which he argues is distinct. One aspect of this chapter that needs further development (due to its increasing popularity, rather than O’Donovan’s lack) is the renting of wombs through surrogacy.

Lecture four wrestles with the personhood of the embryo. Contemporary medical ethics requires the subject’s consent for experimentation, but an embryo obviously cannot give consent. And yet, so much of the reproductive technology—from freezing embryos to genetic modification—is experimental and has at least some risk of damage or death. At worst the personhood of an embryo is ambiguous, which should cause us to be much more cautious in putting it at risk.

The final lecture wraps up the arguments, making the case as lucid as possible using a fairy tale. One of the most significant aspects of moral reasoning about artificial reproductive technologies that rises from this concluding chapter is that even many of those that participate in such techniques likely do not consider the moral implications of it. The clinical nature of IVF, for example, eliminates the mutual relationship and cooperation normally required for natural conception. It is, on the whole, something different than natural procreation.

The book is slender. This new edition, with a foreword by Matthew Lee Anderson, and a new afterword by the author, is only a little over one hundred pages. It is carefully argued and likely a bit dense for those not familiar with this sort of moral reasoning. The book, however, is well worth the time it takes to read it. Davenant Institute has done a remarkable service in producing a second edition of an increasingly important book.

Begotten or Made?
By O'Donovan, Oliver
Buy on Amazon

The Man Born to be King - A Review

In the midst of World War II in the U.K. and all the drama that it entailed, there was some additional drama about a drama. At the center of the hubbub was novelist, playwright, and translator Dorothy L. Sayers.

Perhaps best known for her detective novels featuring Lord Peter Wimsey, Sayers was also an accomplished dramatist. The BBC commissioned her to write a series of plays for children, to be performed on the radio. They were to be plays about the life and ministry of Jesus.

The cycle of twelve plays was called The Man Born to be King. Though they are not exhaustive, they cover the span of Jesus earthly life, and were meant to be something of a comfort to a nation at war.

Unfortunately, like many well-intentioned attempts to convey Christianity to the masses, Sayers’ efforts met with controversy. The Man Born to be King drew great praise, but it also left people deeply concerned because Sayers used slang rather than King James English to help convey the reality of the Gospel accounts. Additionally, some were concerned about the representation of Jesus, though Sayers was especially careful to draw his dialogue more directly from Scripture. And, of course, any dramatist must fill in some gaps that even four Gospel writers left with minor characters, extrabiblical narrative, and details that illustrate the truths embedded in the life of Christ. The tragedy is really that these plays tend to be more remembered for the drama they caused rather than the greater Drama they portrayed.

The cycle of plays known as The Man Born to be King are so rich that C. S. Lewis read them yearly as Easter approached. This recent republication of these plays by IVP Academic is in time for people to pick up their own copies to follow Lewis’ example.

The plays themselves are not innovative. In fact, were readers not aware of the controversy surrounding their original production, a contemporary audience would find little that is shocking in them. They are an attempt to faithfully convey the greatest story ever told in a manner that may seem more real to contemporary readers because of the effort Sayers invested to bring the stories into the 20th century. Sayers’ effort is part of what makes these plays so spiritually invigorating.

Though an edition of these plays can be found in print through Wipf and Stock, the recent edition of The Man Born to Be King from IVP Academic, published in partnership with the Marion E Wade Center out of Wheaton University, has accompanying notations that enrich the text by providing context for somewhat obscure (to our minds, nearly a century later) references and also show some of the ways that Sayers modified her manuscript along the way. This annotated edition, edited by Kathryn Wehr, augments the text in a way that does not interfere with casual reading and provides a treasure trove for fans of Dorothy L. Sayers.

Whether you read these plays in preparation for Easter or at another point during the year, it will be spiritually beneficial. If this is your first time through The Man Born to be King, feel free to skip the front matter and notes to dive into the text. However, for those who are interested in the story behind the text, what Wehr provides through her annotations is well worth the time to pause and investigate. This new volume is solid scholarship accompanying a remarkable text. It should be read well and widely.

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

On Getting Out of Bed - A Review

Anyone who lives long enough will come to the day they aren’t sure if getting out of bed is worth it. Maybe it won’t be getting out of bed per se, but perhaps persisting in daily activity in the face of a difficult monotony.

Is it worth it to wash the dishes? Is it worth it to go to class? Maybe getting out to church isn’t really that important. Will anyone really miss me? Rather than face the endless list of tasks, sometimes it really feels like giving up is a better option.

Depression—whether the sort driven by temporary circumstances or true mental illness—comes for believers as often as non-believers. Sometimes Christians do not trust available resources to help themselves or others when the black dog of persistent sadness or anxiety sits on their chests.

There are, of course, some sharp divides among Christians about psychology and medical interventions for depression. Some, especially in the Nouthetic Counseling movement speak of psychological treatments as sinful. Other Christians do not raise any question about any psychological treatment whatsoever, accepting approaches to mental health that clearly contradict Scripture. We aren’t going to solve that debate here.

However, a common theme in discussions between those rival factions is the treatment of depression as if it is something “out there” and distinct from the person experiencing it. A different set of questions inhabits the mind of the individual wrestling with depression.

Alan Noble’s book, On Getting Out of Bed: The Burden and Gift of Living, is a phenomenal resource for those who struggle with depression. It is practical, not in the sense of providing seven steps to a better you, but in the sense it says the things that need to be said. It is both an encouragement to exist and an exhortation to persist in whatever activities one can manage.

Even our mere continued existence is a blessing to others in the midst of pain:

“Your existence is a testament, a living argument, an affirmation of creation itself. When you rise each day, that act is a faint but real echo of God’s ‘It is good.’ By living this life, you participate in God’s act of creation, asserting with your very existence that it is a good creation.”

The book provides a way to feel a sense of accomplishment in the mundane:

“When we act on [the goodness of creation] by rising out of bed, when we take that step to the block in radical defiance of suffering and our own anxiety and depression and hopelessness, with our heads held high, we honor God and His creation, and we testify to our family, to our neighbors, and to our friends of his goodness. This act is worship.”

And those stringing together those little “victories” by taking one step at a time is a witness to God’s faithfulness:

“Moments create momentum. When you choose to do the next thing, neither accepting nor denying the anxiety or depression you carry, you create the momentum that makes the next, next thing a bit easier to manage. And the converse is true. When you cannot do the next thing, everything becomes harder to manage.”

Noble reminds readers that neither our suffering nor even our disobedience can undermine God’s glorious plan of redemption, “because the ending is already written: you will overcome, Christ has redeemed and will glorify you, including your flawed and, in some cases, ill mind.”

One of the strong positives of Noble’s approach is that it takes the reality of anxiety and depression seriously, but it does not excuse people for ceasing to strive against it. The feelings are real, but the duty to care for your neighbor is also real. Therefore, it is a good thing to continue to do what you can. It is not ok to simply give up, even if you can’t do everything you could normally do. Having diminished capacity is no sin; not using the capacity you have for the glory of God is. Duty and grace are wound together.

This is a hopeful book. Noble reminds readers of the central purpose of our existence:

“In the end, the only reason to keep living is if you live before God for His glory. If His Word is true, then we were divinely created to glorify Him and enjoy Him always. And our creation was a fundamentally good act––good and prodigal. Neither earned nor necessary but a gracious gift. And when we live in gratitude, recognizing and delighting in this life, we honor God.”

On Getting Out of Bed is an encouraging book. It is the sort of book that Christians should read to better understand the struggles of others, but also to have a better theology of suffering and hope before their own day of struggle arises. It can be a help in a time of struggle, but the best treatments are often taken in advance. There is a persistent theme of hope throughout the book. The message is that the fight is hard but worth it.

This book, which is Noble’s third, is the best of them so far. The social commentary he offers in Disruptive Witness and You are Not Your Own is important. The practical hope he writes about in On Getting Out of Bed is the antidote to many of the malaises that modernity has afflicted us with.

In short, this is a book that Christians should be familiar with. Pastors should have extra copies to give away. It would be a good book to study in a small group from time to time. This will likely be the best and most useful new book I encounter this year.

For many, On Getting Out of Bed may make the difference between choosing to continue and not. That is a big claim, but I believe it to be true. I believe time will show my claim to be correct.

NOTE: I received a gratis, advanced reader copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review. Quotes were taken from that volume.

The Wisdom Pyramid - A Review

We don’t hear as much about wisdom these days in modern discourse.

We hear about expertise, eloquence, and clarity.

None of those three things are bad things in and of themselves, but they are a far cry from wisdom.

Any good Bible reader can tell you that wisdom is a good thing. Wisdom is personified by Solomon in the Proverbs. Moreover, James urges his readers, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given to him.” (1:5) The alternative to wisdom is being a doubter who is “like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.” (1:6)

To be honest, being tossed like a wave seems to be the standard state of most people in our culture. People tend to have a ton of information at their fingertips, especially since most of us carry the internet in our pockets. But having information without knowing what to do with it leads to being wind tossed. Having a framework that allows us to do something with available information is a step along the way to wisdom. True wisdom is having a true framework that can handle all available data.

Brett McCracken’s book, The Wisdom Pyramid, published in 2021, is a helpful, popular level book on the problem of information overload (or wisdom deficit) with some practical solutions. It’s more than a jeremiad and much more than a self-help book.

McCracken identifies the problem of information overload, with statistics that help illustrate the immense increase in volume and range of information we are exposed to. He also notes there is a constant pursuit of novelty in our world—there is always something different coming down the pike. This is complicated by the emphasis on finding meaning within, so that one’s moral compass is guided by one’s current feelings.

This sort of condition helps explain why many of feel ill at ease in the world. There is no solid ground. We have not been taught how to navigate this world. We are often overwhelmed by the battering of the wind, like waves of the sea. Too seldom have we asked God for wisdom.

As part of the solution, McCracken proposes a six-tiered approach to information intake. Much like the food pyramid paradigm that used to guide our nutritional sources, the foundation layer is the most plentiful with the top level being consumed sparingly.

It is little surprise that McCracken, a regular contributor to The Gospel Coalition, begins with Scripture intake. The Bible should make up the largest volume of our information diet. The Word of God is food for the soul and we should feast on it regularly. After that the teaching ministry and community of our local churches should be a plentiful source of content. In a reasonably healthy church with other believers also trying to consume great volumes of Scripture, that fellowship and teaching should echo the foundation of the pyramid.

McCracken recommends that nature form the third tier of the ever-narrowing pyramid. It has certainly not helped our culture’s understanding of truth to believe we have conquered the outside and that we can master nature. The heaven’s declare God’s handiwork, if we’ll only take time to listen. The next level in the wisdom pyramid is books. Old books are good, because they help us see the problems with our own age. New books can be good because good books explore topics with a depth and precision that blogs, newspaper articles, and social media does not.

The penultimate layer of the wisdom pyramid is exposure to beauty. McCracken recognizes the transcendent nature of beauty—that it isn’t merely a human appreciation, but reflects the order of the universe. More significantly, he knows that because has emotive power that comes and goes. It cannot be the main pursuit, though it can point us toward the other transcendentals: truth and goodness. Finally, at the tippy top of the pyramid is the internet and social media. These are the “fats, oils, and sweets” foods of the old food pyramid. Great treats, but terrible for long-term health when taken in large quantities.

The wisdom pyramid is helpful. It may not perfectly reflect the opportunities we have, but it should be something we aspire to replicate. Our problem is that most of us have reversed the pyramid. We live online and dabble in the others. It’s a good thought to try to wean ourselves off our phones and the internet (except my blog, of course), and spend more time at the bottom of the pyramid.

After all, we should be seeking wisdom. And wisdom is best found in the words of the author of the universe. Indeed, where else shall we go, for Christ has the words of eternal life? (John 6:68)

The Consistent Testimony of Eric Liddell

Reading biographies of significant Christians can be encouraging. The sorts of people about whom biographies are written are often those through whom God has done some impressive things. Sometimes the study of such Christians is a good reminder that God can do great things through ordinary, flawed people.

The study of Eric Liddell is a bit different than other missionaries. By all accounts, he seems to have been someone who achieved a surprising degree of holiness. Even secular biographers, like `Duncan Hamilton, find themselves awed by the consistent character of Eric Liddell.

Liddell, of course, is most famous for winning an Olympic Gold Medal at the 1924 games in Paris. The movies, Chariots of Fire, reasonably accurately represented his life. That film went on to win four Academy Awards in 1981.

The focus of Chariots of Fire was the Olympic competition, especially Liddell’s refusal to participate in the 100m race because there were heats of it being run on Sunday. As a strong Sabbatarian, Liddell refused to engage in such entertainments on the Lord’s Day. Liddell’s character is portrayed as being affable, if a bit stubborn on religious matters, and deeply concerned with holiness.

That bit of the story is all good. But the viewer is left with a limited picture of Liddell. There is a brief scene at the end of the movie where viewers can read that Liddell went to be a missionary and died in China. It’s that death and the manner of life until his death that is the most significant thing.

Eric Liddell appears to have been one of the most consistent, faithful, and Christlike men to walk the face of the earth. Read the words of a recent biographer, Hamilton:

“Skeptical questions are always going to be asked when someone is portrayed without apparent faults and also as the possessor of standards that appear so idealized and far-fetched to the rest of us. Liddell can sound too virtuous and too honorable to be true, as if those who knew him were either misremembering or consciously mythologizing. Not so. The evidence is too overwhelming to be dismissed as easily as that. Amid the myriad moral dilemmas in Weihsein [a prison camp], Liddell’s forbearance was remarkable. No one could ever recall a single act of envy, pettiness, hubris, or self-aggrandizement from him. He bad-mouthed nobody. He didn’t bicker. He lived daily by the most unselfish credo, which was to help others practically and emotionally.”

In the short book that Liddell wrote, but which was not published until 40 years after his death, Liddell suggests a fourfold test of obedience to God’s moral law:

“Here are four tests of the moral law by which we measure ourselves––and so obey the biblical commands.

                Am I truthful? Are there any conditions under which I will or do tell a lie? Can I be depended on to tell the truth no matter what the cost? Yes or no? Don’t hedge, excuse, explain. Yes or no?

                Am I honest? Can I be absolutely trusted in money matters? In my work even when no one is looking? With other people’s reputations? Yes or no? With myself, or do I rationalize and become self-defensive?

                Am I pure? In my habits? In my thought life? In my motives? In my relations with the opposite sex? Yes or no?

                Am I selfish? In the demands I make on my family, wife, husband, or associates? Am I badly balanced; full of moods, cold today and warm tomorrow?”

These questions logically follow on from Liddell’s definition of a disciple:

“A disciple is one who knows God personally, and who learns from Jesus Christ, who most perfectly revealed God. One word stands out from all others as the key to knowing God, to having his peace and assurance in your heart; it is obedience.”

Liddell penned those words somewhere between 1941 and 1943, when he wrote The Disciplines of the Christian Life. It was a little manual for discipleship that he wrote during a time when he was stuck in Japanese occupied China, but wasn’t allowed to minister to the local Chinese.

By all accounts, Liddell appeared to compare well to those four tests.

In his book, Shantung Compound, Langdon Gilkey is very critical of many of the Christians in the camp, especially the missionaries. He seems to delight in recounting every time they got caught up in their own misery and allowed their pettiness to overcome them. His opinion of Liddell, whom he calls Eric Ridley, is surprisingly positive.

He writes,

“It is rare indeed when a person has the good fortune to meet a saint, but he came as close to it as anyone I have ever known. . . . He was aided by others, to be sure. But it was Eric’s enthusiasm that carried the day with the whole effort [of entertaining the teens in the camp.]”

Liddell’s life is more than interesting; it is convicting. That he seemed to be just as much at his best in a prison camp as he was in a relaxing situation is a testament to his character. His character is one that Christians should seek to emulate.

Assisted Suicide and the Ailments of Culture

Assisted suicide, or what is called “medical assistance in dying (MAID)” in Canada, is no new topic in our cultural. During my childhood, the name “Jack Kevorkian” became a byword and a punchline due to his advocacy for medical professionals helping their patients die instead of helping them live.

To those immersed in the flood of modernity with its emphasis on the radical autonomy of the individual, it is only logical that someone should be permitted or even encouraged to end their life in a clinical, sanitary manner. Why create a mess or a scene of horror for a loved one to find when you can end your existence with a slow wave of drowsiness wafting over you from the silent dripping of a potent fluid in a shapeless plastic bag?

Such an end is no more than what US Supreme Court Justice Kennedy argued for in the infamous Planned Parenthood v. Casey decision in 1992:

“At the heart of liberty is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.”

That philosophy was, until the recent Supreme Court decision, sufficient to permit the killing of a child in the womb. It is a reflection of an entire cultural ethos that echoes that famous hymn of hell: “I Did it My Way.”

A recent ad from Canadian retailer La Maison Simons, or Simons, presents assisted suicide as a heroic, beautiful, and self-fulfilling way to die. Were the subject not so macabre, it would be a lovely video to watch.

(Note that the ad, originally published on October 24, 2022, has been pulled by the retailer due to negative reaction.)

For the Christian, of course, life is sacred. Whether in the womb or in the last moments of natural life, there is goodness and beauty in life. David taught us this is Psalm 139:16 while speaking to God:

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.”

 So, for the believer in Christ, of course intentionally ending one’s life is sin. For those of us who recognize that God’s laws are universal, there is no question, then, that assisted suicide is a sign of a corrupt society.  

But how dare we argue against the non-Christian’s right to day at the hour of his choosing? Is this not an example of “forcing our religion” on others? Or, what if this is really a big problem that will create social injustices and it is simply because of our knowledge of the goodness of God that we are able to see its horror and where it will inevitably lead? 

It is not too hard to see right now that the assisted suicide train is running away on the tracks. In Canada, since 2016, there have been over 31,664 reported deaths through MAIDs with 10,000 of them in 2021. This amounts to approximately 3% of all deaths

The current debate in Canada is whether mental illnesses, like depression, should be considered a justifiable reason to request the state to terminate the requestor.  

In the discussion offered in the report to the Canadian Parliament, the authors seem to recognize how dangerous making this option available to  those suffering from mentally ill. However, they also seem to shrug, noting that the original language of the statute allows assisted suicide for “that illness, disease or disability or that state of decline causes them enduring physical or psychological suffering that is intolerable to them and that cannot be relieved under conditions that they consider acceptable.”  

This is “the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.” It is the right to die. If you don’t like the conditions under which your pain can be alleviated, then you have the right for the state to kill you. 

It does not take much to see how this right to die can quickly become the easy way out. How it can become a convenient way to avoid the hassles of a system built to make more expensive treatments hard to get. It can be an option so that “inconvenient” people who rely on care and accommodation from others can be “conveniently” encouraged to ease the burdens of others. It takes little imagination how the “beauty,” as the Simons ad calls it, could be a way to end a period of sorrow or struggle that might have made the person or their neighbor a little better as a person. That convenience may remove a whole lot of beauty from the world. 

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
-          John Donne

Strange New World - A Review

Sometimes when you wake from an incredibly heavy sleep with extremely vivid dreams it can be disorienting. You look around at your room and wonder how you got there, as if you have just arrived on an alien planet.

Western culture feels like that in recent years. The loudest voices of our world expect us to  affirm statements that would have been viewed as non-sensical a few years ago. Someone, “I am a man trapped in a woman’s body,” has gone from a psychosis to a source of pride.

Ideas do have consequences, but what are some of the ideas and who are some of the thinkers that helped pave the way for us to get to this point.

Carl Trueman’s earlier book, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self, is an excellent example of thorough research and clear presentation. (I had a review written of it, but my computer ate it and I couldn’t bring myself to rewrite it yet.) The primary weakness of that volume was that it showed the jumps in concepts of the self that paved the way for the sexual revolution, but it failed to show how the ideas of Marx,  Reich, and Freud were genetically connected to those cultural shifts. There seemed to be a trajectory, but Trueman didn’t connect all the dots. The second weakness of that volume was that it was so dense and academic that its audience was limited to those who had done a great deal of background reading already. Honestly, that limitation isn’t as much a weakness as simply a description of the type of work Trueman produced on that occasion. There is a place for that sort of book, but it left many of its readers (including me) wishing I could really share that with my friends and fellow church members.

Trueman’s more recent book, Strange New World: How Thinkers and Activists Redefined Identity and Sparked the Sexual Revolution, fills the gap for a more popular level work that expresses many of the same ideas. Strange New World also takes on the feedback of some of the reviews of Rise and Triumph and makes a bit tighter argument. In this case, Trueman makes it clear that he isn’t arguing there is a clear connection between the different thinkers or that the average ideological activist has actually read enough of Marx or whomever to actually be an expert. However, Trueman shows how each of these progressive thinkers broke new ground and prepare the way for the corrosive effects of the sexual revolution.

There is explanatory power in this book. It has a similar flavor to it as C. S. Lewis’ The Abolition of Man or Richard Weaver’s Ideas have Consequences. Both of those men wrote those books eight decades ago. Trueman has much more information that points to the fact that they largely got things right, and it is destroying Western culture and the humans that reside within it.

Trueman notes, “To put it bluntly, the modern cultural imagination sees the world as raw material to be shaped by the human will.” (95) And, prior to that, he observes, “We might say that the death of God is also the death of human nature, or at least the end of any cogent argument that there is such a thing as human nature. If there is no God, then men and women cannot be made in his image and are not therefore required to act in accordance with that image.” (62)

This is modernity. It is the sort of liquid modernity that Zygmunt Bauman discusses. It is the sort of caustic thought-world that Alan Noble writes about in Disruptive Witness and to which he provides a helpful solution for in You are Not Your Own. Trueman shows how the changes in sexual norms in culture have come about through the trajectory of modern, Western thought. Strange New World is one of a chorus of helpful voices that help to explain what’s wrong with the world we inhabit.

This is a book that could be used for an upper-level student in High School, especially as a source for an advanced book review or paper. It has a place in a study of worldview or sexual ethics in an undergraduate or graduate course. This is also a book that thoughtful pastors and laypeople who are reasonably well read can work through and benefit from tremendously. Strange New World should be read widely and often as we try to navigate an increasingly anti-human and disorienting world.

Readers may also benefit from watching a series of lectures Trueman put together for Grove City College, which summarize some of the main points of his book.

The Snakebite Letters - A Review

If there is anyone who I think might possibly pull off a version of C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters, it would have to be Peter Kreeft.

Kreeft is deeply steeped in Lewis and in the same source material that Lewis was infatuated by. Kreeft writes well, is witty, has similarly strong opinions, and generally expresses them clearly.

In The Snakebite Letters: Devilishly Devious Secrets for Subverting Society as Taught at the Tempter’s Training School, Kreeft takes a swing and misses the mark.

The book is entertaining and at points helpful. Kreeft is at his best when he is engaging modernity with a pre-modern, Christian vision. That is exactly what he does through much of the book.

Kreeft identifies the real, spiritual nature of the ongoing strife in the lives of Christians. He notes how the media helps saturate every minute with unhelpful thoughts, especially about sex. This leads to undermining any helpful conception of chastity and advocacy for abortion, often as a matter of convenience, even by those who recognize that it is reprehensible and evil.

Somewhere Kreeft here slips away from talking about Christianity to talking about a defense of Tridentine Roman Catholicism, which is the particular sect of Christianity that he converted to as an adult. Much of the rest of the book shifts away from spiritually helpful resistance to modernity to his particular concerns about the internecine struggles within his own tribe. More than many of his other books where he dabbles in pro-Roman apologetics and swipes against the Reformed faith, this book majors in those topics.

Kreeft, of course, has every right to defend his particular version of Christianity. This is likely a very helpful book for those seeking to evade the weird balkanizations within the membrane of Catholicism, with Trads that hate the pope but are stuck with him and Liberals that often dislike the historic teachings of Roman Catholicism that serve as the supreme authority but like the pomp and circumstance. As odd as so much of Protestantism is (and it is odd!) the tensions within Roman Catholicism are sometimes baffling.

Lewis’s appeal in Screwtape is that he is arguing for mere Christianity. That is, his book is generally applicable to a wide range of Christians. Kreeft leaves most Protestants behind for much of this book.

More significantly, however, Kreeft is simply not as capable as carrying out the schtick as Lewis. I’m a fan of both Lewis and Kreeft and have found Kreeft to be one of the most enjoyable contemporary writers of apologetics and wit. His inability to consistently carry the motif is more a testament to Lewis’s brilliance than any detriment to Kreeft. There are times where Kreeft’s own didactic voice comes through and it is clear that it is him talking to the reader, not the demon Snakebite writing to his apprentice, Braintwister. There are holes in the plot, the wall isn’t quite sound, and it becomes possible to catch a glimpse of the man behind the curtain.

The fact that Kreeft can’t pull off a copycat of Screwtape is probably a sign that so many others that try it shouldn’t. As Kreeft notes in his introduction, Lewis would likely have “wanted such ‘plagiarisms’”. It’s not the copycatting that is the problem, it is that the bar is so high that everything else seems like weak sauce—even what Kreeft provides here.

My appreciation for Kreeft remain undaunted. I was left a little unimpressed by The Snakebite Letters, but not really disappointed. It’s a credit that Kreeft came as close as he did. Who knows, the next person to try may actually pull it off. I doubt it, though.

A Compass for Deep Heaven - A Review

There is version of academic work that focuses mainly on how the author handles secondary works. This leads to the sort of reviews that argue that, though the focus of a book or essay was a particular author, if someone didn’t specifically reference another author’s book or essay that they have somehow failed as a scholar. Worse would be if someone did read the approved sources and still managed to come to a different reading of the original source.

Such petty narrowmindedness exists within many different guilds of scholarship. It is a reflection of scholarship for the sake of prestige rather than for its own sake.

There are, of course, important essays and books that should be dealt with as appropriate. It would be tiresome to begin always in the same place, so that every new work had to pretend like nothing had every previously been written or said. Good scholarship often builds on previous work. But if an essay deals meaningfully with the text or topic in question, counting footnotes and checking the bibliography to measure quality is tacky.

A recent volume by a group of undergraduates was a refreshing glimpse into what thoughtful scholarship can look like, when one does not get lost in the weeds of secondary literature. In A Compass for Deep Heaven, a collection of honors students from Azusa Pacific University demonstrates thoughtful exploration of a topic without cluttering the notes with excessive commentary about the commentary.

The volume offers an accessible introduction to C. S. Lewis’ Ransom Trilogy, which is often referred to as the Space Trilogy. For many, Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength, remain unexplored territory in the literature of Lewis. They get neglected in favor of Narnia, Mere Christianity, and some of his more popular collections of essays. These three volumes, however, offer impressive illustrations of Lewis’ ideas and are an imaginative rebuttal to the illnesses of modernity. Due to the number of cultural allusions, the references to other works of science fiction, and the strangeness of the third volume, the Space Trilogy is often only slightly less neglected than Lewis’ scholarly work.

Part of the pleasure of reading A Compass for Deep Heaven is that the authors keep their focus on the work under consideration. They use sources to amplify their arguments and bring readers deeper into Lewis’ work. Really, the only signs that they authors are undergraduates is the lack of terminal degrees in their biographies, a note about the volume being published by their university initially, and the fact that the authors were less concerned with padding the notes than making their point.

This is a good book. May more books with this tone increase. And, more significantly, may books like this draw more people into the work of C. S. Lewis.

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