Can Science Explain Everything? - A Review

Can science explain everything?

Most people would answer that question reflexively, but there is likely to be a divided response.

John Lennox, longtime apologist for Christianity and emeritus professor of Mathematics, argues that science cannot explain everything. His little book from The Good Book company, Can Science Explain Everything?, is a concise explanation of his response.

To some, the question itself might seem absurd, but one of the prevailing worldviews of the 21st century is scientism. We see this when people tell us to “follow the Science” or that “Science tells us” or some other trick of speech that assumes that there is a univocal authority in Science (it must be capitalized) that can shortcut any moral or practical concerns. Scientism is the belief that empirical scientific inquiry can answer any question and provide a consistent correct answer.

The question is significant because much of our cultural conversation seems to assume that science either knows everything or that it can know everything if we only ask the right questions and properly fund the research. There are huge ethical problems created by scientism, but there are more practical ones as well.

Scientism presumes that religion is either irrelevant to meaningful knowledge and thus useless for life or directly opposed to reason. This is the view of atheists like Richard Dawkins, but it is also a garden variety myth often used to marginalize Christians. Lennox topples scientism as a presupposition of reality and shows that while science is important, it is lacks sufficient structure to answer some of life’s most important questions.

Lennox opens his book arguing that being a scientist does not preclude belief in God. As a retired professor of mathematics, he has good reason to know this. But he also shares with us the account of his academic superiors attempting to shame him into rejecting Christianity. Lennox then moves on to a discussion of the shift in culture from faithful scientists seeking rational explanation for natural phenomenon because of their faith in God to some more contemporary scientists who seek to use their scientific findings to argue against the existence of God.

The substance of the argument of the book is that both religion and science are dependent upon reason, but they are often geared to ask different questions. Science tends to ask “What?” and “How?” while some sort of philosophical thought, including religion, is necessary to come to an answer about “Why?” The “Why?” in this case refers not to the process, but to purpose. Science can not answer questions of purpose.

Lennox also argues that there is no reason not to take the Bible seriously, despite the apparent power of science to explain all natural phenomena and exclude any supernatural events. He even argues that there is no reason to reject miracles. The miracles recorded in Scripture, like the resurrection of Jesus, are matters of history rather than of philosophy or science.

The whole book has an apologetic edge. Lennox is making a case that Christianity is credible. The book begins focused on the question of science, but turns during the discussion of miracles toward other objections to Christianity, for example, Lennox briefly discusses the problem of evil. After that point, he examines the trustworthiness of the text of Scripture we have as a way of explaining why the resurrection miracle has a historical basis. He then provides a chapter explaining that for the skeptic to falsify Christianity—that is, to prove that Christianity is not true, he needs to disprove the resurrection. Lennox shows that Christianity is falsifiable, but also makes the case that the account in the Bible of Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection plausible and, indeed, even probable as the most credible explanation. Lennox closes the book by explaining how one can be a Christian and why it is important that skeptics and Christians test the faith honestly, seeking answers to doubts without perpetuating them indefinitely.

This is both a good book and a limited book. It is a worthy tool for the right applications, but is not the right instrument for every job.

Can Science Explain Everything? is an introductory level text. It is written at a level that an advanced junior high student could follow the argument. It is most suitable for those with more advanced reasoning skills—curious high schoolers, college students, or congregants who have come up against exclusive claims of scientism and are asking good questions about the faith. The book would also be helpful as an evangelistic tract for an open-minded skeptic who is honest about seeking answer to her questions. It will also be helpful for Christian students asking whether a skeptical teacher really has all the answers.

On the other hand, this is a book that is likely to meet resistance and ridicule by more hardened atheists because Lennox made the necessary tradeoffs between concision and completeness. In a book of 125 pages it is impossible to explore every contour of these important questions. This will lead more antagonist people to find the intentionally basic explanations Lennox offers unconvincing. This is not due to an inherent deficiency in the book, but a recognition of its purpose. Lennox has provided more substantial refutations of scientism in his book God’s Undertaker: Has Science Buried God?

This is a good, useful book. Don’t ask more of it than it is prepared to give, but it would be a handy resource for a youth pastor or church bookshelf to answer some of this culture’s most pressing challenges.

Can Science Explain Everything? (Oxford Apologetics) (Questioning Faith)

By John Lennox

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How do We Know? - A Review

One of the biggest needs in the church, especially among theologically conservative Christians, is a recovery of epistemology.

The problem is that that first statement alone will significantly limit the audience for a post like this or the sort of study that is needed to really help change the unhealthy approach to media and Bible study by many Christians.

Epistemology is the study of how we know things. It’s one of those words that until you read it a bunch of times in different settings and hear a number of people defining and explaining it, you will often have a hard time grasping what it really means.

How do we know things? Well, we just do, right? Not exactly.

In certain crowds, if I ask “How do we know?” I am likely to be told that we read the Bible. “God said it, I believe it, that settles it.” I’ve seen more than a few bumper stickers to that effect.

That may be a comforting way to end a discussion for some, but how do we know that the Bible’s statements are true? What do we do with phenomena about which the Bible does not speak? In other words, even if I accept the Bible as absolutely trustworthy in everything it addresses, how do I live in a world that is culturally unlike the Bible.

Additionally, how do I know that my reading of the Bible’s statements is correct? Exposure to individuals from other cultures will quickly reveal that different people perceive different symbols different ways. How can I know that I know what is true in the Bible is really true?

That last question reveals how strange the question can get really quickly. It’s easier to jump back to “common sense” where we simply accept the received wisdom from epistemic authorities—the people or institutions we trust—than ask this slippery question.

But what happens when manipulative predators realize that folks are going to take their word for it? And what happens when there are so many entities posing as epistemic authorities because of the information age that anyone can jump on YouTube and present themselves as an authority that anyone can find and some folks will believe?

You get the right epistemic mess that we are in, with conspiracy theories flying around a mile a minute, distrust in any group that does not agree with you or your in-group, and a failure to recognize that even with an authoritative text like the Bible, a reader can bring so many presuppositions to the table that he or she can entirely misread the message. It’s a pretty bleak situation.

However, there is hope. First, because we have a living and loving God who inspired the Bible and illuminates it, so that the person of the Holy Spirit will continue to work on the minds and hearts of those who are honest in their pursuit of holiness. Second, there is hope because of books like How Do We Know? An Introduction to Epistemology, which was just released as a second edition, by Jamie Dew and Mark Foreman.

How Do We Know? is an attempt to provide a resource on a tricky subject that does not require a background in philosophy to understand. The authors come at the problem head on in the first pages of the series introduction: “Many people today have embraced, often without realizing it, an approach to knowing reality that undermines their ever coming to truly understand it.”

The book asks a series of questions in each of its chapters:

What is epistemology? What is knowledge? Where does knowledge come from? What is truth, and how do we find it? What are inferences, and how do they work? What do we perceive? Do we need justification? [of belief, not soteriology] Can we be objective in our view of the world? What is virtue epistemology? Do we have revelation? How certain can we be?

That is a lot of questions for a very short book. In about 150 pages, the authors try to provide reasonable answers to each one of those difficult, but very important questions. They do quite well.

How Do We Know? is a good place to start in getting a foothold in what I believe to be one of the most important topics for our day. There are obviously some side, tribal battles that pop up and might be cause for disagreement among more experienced theologians and philosophers. For example, some Reformed individuals who have been exposed to presuppositionalism may find points of disagreement. However, on balance, the authors are fair in their dealing with the tribal disagreements within Christian philosophy. As a result, the 150-pages of this book may be more helpful to a beginner than the 400-page tome that is John Frame’s The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God, for example. Dew and Foreman wrote an introduction with all of its blessings and limitations. But it is a good introduction.

Even though this is the sort of book that is written specifically for those that have little background in philosophy, it requires either some scaffolding through a class or a decent education. This would make for an excellent undergraduate text, a useful volume for a small-group study with reasonably educated lay people—especially those who read. This is a book that would be well-placed withing a high school homeschool curriculum, particularly if a parent was available to help work through some of the hairy edges of the concepts. In other words, this is an accessible book, but the topic is very abstract and sometimes help is needed. Dew and Foreman have done about as well as can be done with an exceptionally important, but extremely difficult field of study.

One can hope that How Do We Know? gets a wide readership beyond academic settings. The church in general, and evangelical churches specifically, have a significant crisis of knowing, trust, and critical thinking on their hands. The answer is not more five-minute YouTube clips, but basic discipleship and training in how to process information, which is exactly what How Do We Know? provides.

How Do We Know? (Questions in Christian Philosophy)

By Dew Jr., James K., Foreman, Mark W.

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

Your Money or Your Life - A Review

In 1992 a little book was released that is still creating ripples today, nearly three decades and three editions later. Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez published Your Money or Your Life not long after a major stock market crash on Black Monday 1987, as the United States was suffering under a slow-recovery recession after a decade of decadence. Your Money or Your Life is largely credited as the inspiration of the FIRE movement, which calls people to work hard, live frugally, save vigorously to achieve financial independence with the goal of being able to step away from the daily grind years before normal cultural expectations.

In true American fashion, the book is fashioned as a simple nine-step process that raises the reader’s awareness of where your money has gone, where it is going, and where you would really like it to go. The central concept of the book is that in the modern economy, humans trade time for money. And, since time is the one thing every human has a limited amount of in this life, they describe the employment relationship as one of trading life energy for money, hence the title: Your Money or Your Life.

As with many truly helpful things, the book’s premise is incredibly simple: For a great many people, raising awareness of expenses and asking a few value questions can reorient attitudes in ways that help shake of consumeristic habits and lead to a great deal more financial freedom. The concept works much better for those that are middle-income or higher, since the poor tend to already have a tight focus on their finances. But as Robins points out, many middle-income people have no idea where their money goes and are wasting a great deal of their time earning money to spend on things or experiences that give little satisfaction.

The practical advice in Your Money or Your Life is sound, which helps explain why a third revision was just released. The core is sound, though the specifics of recommendations have had to change. For example, in a low interest environment, the early advice to use bonds to fund retirement would be a relatively quick path to ruin.

Philosophically the book is all over the place. It mixes a few proof-texts from the Bible with Eastern thought, as well as some assumptions that are more American than anything else. However, by common grace there is a helpful integrity to the outlook, however quilted the underlying ideas may be.

One of the more helpful ideas that the book promotes is that all of life should be viewed as a whole. We can’t see our budget as one piece of our lives, our work as another, and our home life as something entirely different. All of them are of a piece and impact one another, as anyone who has worked alongside someone going through a divorce can attest. This isn’t to suggest that getting one thing right fixes everything, but what Robin and Dominquez point out is that viewing them all together helps us make better choices in the places we have agency. Spending money is, for many of us, one of the places we have the most agency. Therefore, the encouraging people to ask questions about how their spending reflects their values can lead to changes that open up opportunities in other areas.

Another significant element of the book is that it forces readers to rethink the nature of work. They argue,

The real problem with work, then, is not that our expectations are too high. It’s that we have confused work with paid employment. Redefining “work” as simply any productive or purposeful activity, with paid employment being just one activity among many, frees us from the false assumption that what we do to put food on the table and a roof over our heads should also provide us with our sense of meaning, purpose and fulfillment. Breaking the link between work and money allows us to reclaim balance and sanity.

There are too many eggs in the “work” basket for many of us. We define ourselves by our job and invest our best energy into tasks that may be demeaning or seem to be designed to be frustrating.

To some degree, that is the nature of an industrialized economy, which sometimes reduces tasks to repetitive minutia in the name of efficiency. Connected to this reduction is that due to the liquidity of modernity, there are few stable aspects of a contemporary human’s life. We are likely to change jobs, move thousands of miles, and undergo shifts in vocation that would have been unthinkable for the majority of human history. Work was meant to be satisfying as we create and organize, being made in the image of God. What work has become is not what it was meant to be. This is helpful truth that the authors recognize.

The book carries some significant baggage philosophically. The authors seem to assume that one of the primary purposes of humanity is to achieve a degree of autonomy. The number of cases of divorce they seem to celebrate is significant. There is an assumption that happiness can be achieved in some measure through material goods. All this and more lie beneath the surface, which should cause the Christian to read this book with care. At the same time, the advice is presented by non-Christians who argue for a distinct worldview, which makes it easier to chew the meat and spit the bones than when someone reads Dave Ramsey or another of the Christian financial gurus, where a heavy dose of proof-texts and testimonies saturated with church language can cause us to lower our guard, allowing greed to slip in when we least expect it. Your Money or Your Life is helpful, in part, because it is written from a different perspective that can be illuminating even as we filter it carefully.

For many American Christians, the lure of consumerism has led to an increase in consumer debt, a lifestyle of excess that would have shamed earlier generations of believers, and an increasing difficulty to enjoy the benefits of real wealth in one of the most affluent societies on earth. Books like Your Money or Your Life can present an alternative picture that is, in fact, closer to a biblical attitude toward money and the unity of life than many similar products from faith oriented Christian publishers offer. It’s high time American Christians began to rethink their money habits, and Your Money or Your Life is a decent place to start.

Your Money or Your Life: 9 Steps to Transforming Your Relationship with Money and Achieving Financial Independence: Fully Revised and Updated for 2018

By Robin, Vicki, Dominguez, Joe, Mr. Money Mustache

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All God's Children and Blue Suede Shoes - A Review

One of my best recent investments has been in a subscription to the Mars Hill Audio Journal.

I’ve known about Ken Myers for years, but with so many free podcasts and sermons, I’ve never felt justified in paying for the material. I was tremendously wrong.

The first inkling of the error of my delay came when I purchased a single edition, “The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis,” because one of the contributors to that edition also contributed to a book I was editing with the same title. After I listened to that hour-long recording a few times, I was ready to plunge into a full subscription.

Since I began listening to Ken Myers conducting interviews on a regular basis, I decided to finally pick up a copy of his book, All God’s Children & Blue Suede Shoes: Christians and Popular Culture. The book was originally released in 1989, but has remained in print since. Crossway released a reprint edition with a new introduction in 2012. In the world of publishing, that is a pretty significant record for longevity. It is well deserved.

The constant refrain of Myers and Mars Hill Audio Journal is to pursue permanent things. So much of what passes for culture in our age is intentionally temporary and of little durable value. Modernism, which is a nebulous movement with many tentacles, demands that we believe that what is new and shiny must be better than what is old and well-worn.

Myers’ book is intended for Christians, it is not a generic critique of culture for a broad audience. It offers a consistent reminder that Christianity should have its own unique culture, which should have a distinct shape. And, since that shape is caused by the character of our immutable, impassible God, it stands to reason that an authentically Christian culture should seek after permanent things.

More significant, I think, to Myers is that Christianity should reflect a degree of excellence in its culture, rather than subsisting on the edges of the mainstream of popular culture, picking up the crumbs and copying the worst trends of a few months or years ago.

In this way All God’s Children & Blue Suede Shoes espouses something similar to Andy Crouch’s concept in Culture Making or what T. M. Moore argues for in Culture Matters. In some way, Myers also seems to be pushing for the recovery and restoration of permanent institutions, much as James Davidson Hunter does in To Change the World. All God’s Children & Blue Suede Shoes was a foretaste of what the Mars Hill Audio Journal would become four years later. It is a vision that has withstood the past thirty years quite well.

The book begins by describing the dangers of popular culture, beginning with its tendency toward trendiness. Everything is temporary and disposable. There is an immediate gratification that finds itself fulfilled primarily in a disenchanted materialism. That bleeds into the way that even Christians make decisions, where dollars and cents are the only real consideration for vocational changes and entertainment selection. The soul is not fully considered.

As Christians, Myers argues, we should be seeking after durable things. We should seek to value beauty, goodness, and truth. Those are qualities to our distinctly Christian culture that should go beyond merely gluing a Bible verse onto the cover of a journal or modifying rock and roll lyrics to have a gospel-centered vibe. Instead, we should be looking for transcendent qualities in our literature and our music.

This means that sometimes we will prefer art that has been created by non-Christians much more than that that has been created by believers. Because, if a novel points us deeper into the human experience as it ought to be, then that is a cultural artifact that deserves preservation. At the same, Christians should be more capable of creating those durable works of art because we should have a stronger sense of the transcendent, because the transcendent God lives within us immanently.

This is the tragedy of Christian sub-culture. Too often it is kitsch and cliché. Too often it is derivative. Instead of forming new Austens and Dostoevskys, popular Christian culture knocks off Danielle Steel. Biblical manhood becomes a caricature of tavern culture, except without the good beer. Our worship music starts to sound like the top 40, except without the resonance that even that tissue paper culture has.

Myers calls us to a deeper relationship with culture. To cultivate enjoyment in complex artforms that exalt the human soul, lifting them toward God. This is hard work, as he notes, but it is also an act of worship.

The downside of Myers perspective is that he seems to cut himself off from those occasional snippets of popular culture that use a throwaway medium to make a deeper point. For Myers, good music seems to end with Bach, though he’s willing to accept the value of Jazz. And yet, there are times when the collective weight of a seemingly vacuous television series can make a deeper point. Those cases are, admittedly rare, but following Myers too closely would cut us off from those opportunities. Of course, when we consider the amount of work it takes to sift through the tares to get those few heads of wheat, he may be on to something.

It’s hard to place this book, exactly. It is one that I’d like to read with my teenagers as we think about what good music, movies, books, and art ought to do to us and for us. But it is a book that presumes that the reader has some awareness of good and bad quality and has an ability to make discerning choices. For those that are raised on the cotton candy of cartoons, super hero films, and Christian prairie romance novels, Myers’ thesis may be a hard pill to swallow. And yet, if we are to recover our love for transcendent things and our culture-making Christian character, then the Church needs to listen more carefully to people like Myers.

All God's Children and Blue Suede Shoes (With a New Introduction / Redesign): Christians and Popular Culture (Volume 7)

By Myers, Ken

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Subversive - A Review

Faithful Christianity must always wage a war on two fronts. On one front are those who see the trends in culture and wish to conform Christianity to whatever the current fad in ethics or philosophy offers. On the other front are those who remember a particular cultural expression of Christianity and see that as normative, not the central aspects of Christian doctrine. Dorothy L. Sayers is helpful in subverting those who disagree on both fronts.

Crystal Downing’s book, Subversive: Christ, Culture, and the Shocking Dorothy L. Sayers, is an engaging book about one of the most interesting Christian humanists of the early twentieth century. In some circles Sayers is remembered for her friendship with C. S. Lewis, which was a wonderful example of two minds meeting and cultivating a meaningful friendship despite—or perhaps because of—their disagreements. Others remember Sayers primarily for her detective fiction, particularly because of her famous sleuth Lord Peter Wimsey, but perhaps more significantly for the love story Wimsey had with the semi-autobiographical character, Harriet Vane. These are good reasons to remember Sayers. But a better reason to read Sayers is her engaging thought about Christianity and culture, which is the main focus of Downing’s book.

The thesis of this book is that Sayers held and put on display a Christianity that undermined the cultural Christianities of her day. Downing is also arguing that Sayers is valuable for our time precisely because of her ability to point beyond enculturated Christianity to a full-throated Christian orthodoxy. This comes through as Downing sees Sayers arguing for a Christianity that would better resist the market-based attitude of church shopping, the inroads of the prosperity gospel in congregations, and the conflation of politics. These are all errors that Downing sees in evangelicalism, which she finds Sayers helpful in eradicating.

When Downing stays on point, focusing on Sayers and her legacy, she is very helpful. The research is well done, touching on a wide range of Sayers’ work. If there is a strong emphasis on interpreting the themes of Sayers’ plays, that is little surprising since Downing’s background is in theatre as well as literature. This is a useful corrective to the theologians and literary critics who invest their research nearly exclusively in Sayers’ non-fiction and prose works.

In Sayers’ day, she was critiqued by those both to her right and left. Progressives critiqued (or dismissed) her for her stolid adherence to traditional Christian orthodoxy. Fundamentalists railed against Sayers for using slang language in her plays and embellishing the details around Christ’s life and death in her passion play, The Man Born to be King. In that sense, Sayers was certainly subversive of the various cultural Christianities of her day, pointing back toward the ancient, orthodox faith.

Inasmuch as Subversive explores how Sayers did her work in her day, it is revealing and explanatory. When Downing tries to bring Sayers forward into our own day to combat the theological and cultural dangers surrounding us, she betrays a good deal more bias that Sayers would have allowed and sometimes does not appropriately differentiate between her own opinions and those of Sayers.

One of Downing’s repeated concerns is that Christians avoid “certitude.”  To Downing, this seems to refer to those with an attitude like Judas who, “like many Christians today [was] certain that his interpretation of the truth was absolute.” (97) It is this sort of self-assurance that Sayers sought to subvert, but Sayers was also quick to subvert the ideas of those who were certain that the interpretations of the community of faith not correct.

According to Downing, the “exact opposite” of “certitude” is faith. (98) It isn’t clear from the text in what sense these two concepts are opposed, but Downing is confident that being confident in one’s reading of Scripture is a great evil. She argues, “Anyone who claims to know the correct interpretation of Scripture––as did Arius––ultimately proclaims to know the mind of God, which is both arrogant and blasphemous.” (37) In truth, Arius’ great error was not that he relied upon the Bible (which association Downing makes frequently) or that he was overconfident, but that the position he (or his followers) held was blasphemously wrong and sought to promote his misconception. Downing’s opposition of faith and “certitude” seems to paint faith as something other than what Scripture supports (e.g., Heb 10:19–39). Rather than a humble but confident faith, Downing seems to point to ambiguity as an essential attribute of the Christian life, though the lack of definitions sometimes make it unclear what Downing is striving for. More significantly for this book, Downing’s opposition of “certitude” and faith does not seem to arise from Sayers.

The authority of Scripture is another a particular sticking point for Downing. At one point she argues that the authority of the four ecumenical creeds exceeds that of the canon of Scripture because these “’footings’ of the foundation [of the church] as they are known, were poured by earnest followers of Christ in the early centuries of the faith before the biblical canon was even finalized.” (35) This is basically a paraphrase of a letter Sayers wrote to a critic. However, Downing introduces some terminological confusion. In some places Downing sets reliance on the prime authority of the creeds against “bibliolatry,” which in context sounds like the classical Protestant understanding of the supremacy of Scripture. In other places, Downing uses “bibliolatry” to refer to an unhealthy reverence for the King James Version (a problem Sayers faced), which is another problem altogether. There is imprecision here that Sayers would not have tolerated.

Downing’s actual beef appears to be with modernist hermeneutics, which often result in excessive confidence in readings of Scripture due to their presumed objectivity. One need not hold to supremacy of the creeds to argue against such hubris; orthodox Christians are justified in believing the creeds are authoritative inasmuch as they are faithful distillations of Scripture. Here Downing seems to have a related, but substantially different opinion than Sayers, who uses the ecumenical creeds as the starting line for “official” Christianity. But, as Sayers affirmatively declares, the men arguing at Nicaea “were fifty time greater sticklers for Biblical authority than any one living today.” (Letters, III:367) For Sayers, the issue is not the source of authority, but the way the argument is put together and the manner in which the conclusion is held. It is not that Sayers holds my position on the authority of Scripture (I am quite certain she did not), but rather than she does not hold Downing’s either, and that is difficult to tell from the text of Subversive.

At times, Downing does not differentiate her own opinions (which may be true of false on their own merits) from those of the subject of the book. Readers may well find themselves disagreeing with Downing and believe they are disagreeing with Sayers. This will not always be correct, based on my reading of Sayers. This ambiguity may push away some of the very readers who most need Sayers’ corrective to have a properly confident faith, that is held with humility.

Sayers’ work is incredibly valuable for our day largely because she built a positive case for a robust Christianity in her public work. She spent more time making much of Christ than subverting incorrect views. Sayers’ subversion was of cultural Christianity by presenting a true Christianity faithfully. Rather than to seek to undermine the legitimate faith of others, by way of critique she presented a more compelling vision that she hoped would outshine the lesser gods of the day. Her harshest published criticisms were delivered with a such a wit that it would draw a chuckle rather than a groan. Her subversively constructive approach is what makes Sayers such a valuable conversation partner in our age. In the end, there is enough of Sayers and enough good research in this volume to make it a worthwhile volume, especially for those engaged in the study of the life and work of Dorothy L. Sayers.

Subversive: Christ, Culture, and the Shocking Dorothy L. Sayers

By Downing, Crystal

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

Splendour in the Dark - A Review

There are those of us who would be delighted to read a shopping list that C. S. Lewis wrote. In the world of scholarship, there would be a rush to dissect it, look for literary imagery, and find out where the reference to plums coincides with one of the many feasts in the Chronicles of Narnia, demonstrating how personal the feast really was for Lewis.

As a result, the recent publication of the Wade annotated edition of Lewis’s Dymer along with analysis by Lewis expert, Jerry Root, will find a healthy reception in the world of Lewis studies. This book, Splendour in the Dark, is a good piece of scholarship that will help fill a gap in Lewis studies.

Prior to his conversion, Lewis published two books. Both were volumes of poetry. The first was a cycle of poems that were, largely, completed in the trenches of World War I. Spirits in Bondage is an early work, which shows both flashes of potential and points of weakness. Similarly, Dymer tells an interesting story, but has points of strength and elements of weakness. Were Lewis a lesser writer, these volumes would no longer be in print and rarely, if ever, discussed.

However, because of who Lewis is and has become among contemporary Christians, early works like Dymer will get discussed and related to his later works and evidence in the trajectory of his thought examined. Dymer provides rich soil for research.

The poem is something of a fantasy. It begins with a young man in a totalitarian society who breaks free having struck his teacher so hard that the teacher dies. Dymer, the title character, then goes on a journey, finds a palace, has a tryst with a goddess, meets a magician who shoots him, and eventually comes to grips with his own fantasies. The story is, in fact, quite engaging, though there are points where the narrative poem is heavy sledding. This is a poem for those seeking to study Lewis rather than for those seeking to study excellent poetry.

David Downing, the codirector of the Marion Wade Center at Wheaton, added notations to the 114-page poem, which clarify at a few points terms or allusions that are likely to get past a reader a century removed from its publication. Then the work itself is followed by several essays by Root analyzing it, with responses from some of his Wheaton colleagues.

Taken together, this reprint with annotations plus scholarly analysis by a leading expert in the field is well worth a place in the library of someone interested in Lewis studies and the college library. Root’s essays help tie Dymer to Lewis’s broader thought life. He helpfully shows where some of the pre-conversion ideas Lewis shows forth in Dymer are cultivated and bloom more vigorously in later Lewisian works. Root’s analysis is excellent, bringing to bear his decades of study in Lewis. The responses by various other Wheaton professors are at some points interesting and at some points a bit frustrating. None of the three respondents are C. S. Lewis experts, but two English professors and a theatre professor who are well-credited in other areas. Their lectures begin with too many apologies for their own lack of expertise, which is likely a testament to Root’s status in the field of Lewis studies and the obscurity of this poem—it is quite easy to find people who have strong opinions and understanding of, say, The Chronicles of Narnia, but this project likely was well outside their comfort zone. In any case, there are some helpful tidbits in the essays, but their contribution was likely strongest in their delivery as a response to a friendly audience in the moments after Root delivered his three lectures. What does come from each of the respondents is the sense that Dymer is, in fact, a second-rate poem. It is significant, but not excellent. Good, but not great. So, this book is valuable for Lewis-lovers primarily. 

Read for what it is—a reprint edition with helpful annotations and commentary on a neglected work by a famous author with a brilliant mind—this is a solid book. The purpose is accomplished with skill and quality. Splendour in the Dark is exciting for those of us who love talking about Chronicles, Surprised by Joy, and the ‘A’ Side works, but really want to go beyond. It is a good entry in that conversation, which will prompt further study, deepen the understanding of Lewis’s pre-conversion work, and generally enrich an ever-growing body of literature.

Splendour in the Dark: C. S. Lewis's Dymer in His Life and Work (Hansen Lectureship Series)

By Root, Jerry

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

The History of the Ancient World - A Review

George Santayana is most famous for quipping, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” This has become a cliché, often misquoted, but there is certainly some truth to it.

Since we can’t remember the past being our own limited experience, we resort to studying history. The problem with studying history is that it is hard to know where to begin. Returning to the textbookish surveys I was exposed to as a child doesn’t seem helpful. My college history books have long been disposed of and I don’t remember them being all that interesting, now that I think of it.

Since we homeschool, I decided to give Susan Wise Bauer’s The History of the Ancient World a try for putting the pieces of this world together. The bet was a good one.

Given the range of material Bauer covers in this tome, it is amazing how well she weaves the timelines and stories together. The first section of the book begins with the civilizations with only fragmentary records. None of her work is original, but she assembles stories of Sumer, what would become Egypt, the Indus Valley, and China into a coherent narrative.

She then moves through the various twists and turns of various civilizations as the records improve, new technological and civic inventions grow, and cities become more prominent. What emerges is something that is more complex than the pictures of clay tables with cuneiform writing and fragments of pottery that I remember from my studies of history. Thankfully, she also expands the scope of her interest beyond a flyby of Mesopotamia leading to the Greeks and Romans and landing in a Euro-centric focus. What we get is a fairly balanced record of known civilizations, including those in the East, the Mid-East, and toward the West.

Bauer is surveying four or five thousand years of history of multiple, integrated civilizations. It is amazing that she was able to sort through so much material. This, of course, means that there is a great deal detail left out and many places where Bauer was forced to pick a reading of history and run with it. It is clear from some of her footnotes that she is aware of alternate interpretations, but it’s a survey, not a monograph on a particular subject.

The book is written in a manner that will displease some Christians and also anger vocal secularists. Bauer assumes an ancient earth and treats the Hebrew Bible in the same manner she treats other historical sources. This, of course, means that she is much less derogatory toward the value of those ancient documents than many secular scholars would be, which leads to accusations of religious bias. At the same time, she also does not hold to a young earth and sometimes floats assertions that the biblical record was sanitized to make certain kings look good. This perspective will tend to annoy some Christians, particularly homeschoolers seeking to rigorously shield their children from opposing views. (A quick scan of the Amazon reviews shows that both of these positions exist in decent numbers.)

Frankly, as a conservative Christian, I think this book is an excellent way to introduce a child later in her schooling to critical sources. There will be a point at which our kids are going to have to engage with other voices to grow and learn, Bauer’s approach is good historically and at least fair toward the Judeo-Christian tradition. I can’t give advice to secularist parents, other than to note that her assumptions are pretty mild and certainly not satisfying in any religious way. This isn’t a book seeking to promote the Judeo-Christian tradition as the one, true religion. It also doesn’t go out of the way to bash Judaism and Christianity, either. As a religious text, it fails; as a history book, it’s pretty good.

Aside from debates about Bauer’s biases, this is, above all, an extremely readable book. It certainly isn’t a novel, graphic or otherwise, but it was a pleasure to pick this book up and read a couple of chapters every day. I wouldn’t recommend the volume for elementary readers, but for a thoughtful high schooler this would make an excellent text for homeschool or as summer reading. I picked up an electronic copy of the study guide that goes with the book and it is well structured with enough questions and answers to help this integrate easily into the homeschooling parent’s life, without having to become an expert.

This is the sort of book that I wish I had had access to when I was younger. I would have read the volume just for edification, beyond my regular school work. I am looking forward to the next two volumes in the series and very hopeful that Bauer writes the fourth and final volume in the very near future.

The History of the Ancient World: From the Earliest Accounts to the Fall of Rome

By Susan Wise Bauer

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Vaclav Havel and the Power of the Powerless

There are at least two types of tyrannical political order. The first is one that is implemented by brute force with soldiers or police patrolling everywhere looking to enforce the ruler’s will on a frightened population. The second type of tyranny is one enforces by the people on the people. There is always a coercive force, but it does not require constant patrols by soldiers, because people (whether they believe in the tyrannical policies or not) enforce them or call in the authorities to do so.

Of the two types of tyranny, the second is the more awful. There will always be some toadies in an oppressed culture that will jump over to the other side and work with the oppressors in the first type of tyranny, but the vast majority of people will outwardly comply, but inwardly hope for and be prepared to assist a rebellion. Resistance is cheered, even in small things. This is a totalitarian system of government.

In the second form of tyranny, internal cultural forces demand absolute compliance and offer little hope of freedom. It requires the deletion of civil society—those groups that exist for non-political purposes and which hold societies together—and their replacement with government authorized programs. The second form of tyranny induces citizens, even those who do not explicitly favor the government’s policies, to enforce them through social pressure and, sometimes, by calling in the government’s enforcers. There is little room for people to live in dissent. Vaclav Havel calls this second form a post-totalitarian system.

In Vaclav Havel’s essay, “The Power of the Powerless” he describes what it means to live in a society in which dissent is impossible. He is speaking of his experience in Czechoslovakia, where he was a significant member of the resistance that eventually contributed to that nation being freed from communism.

Havel describes a simple act by a greengrocer, who one day refuses to put the approved Party sign in his windows. He does not believe that “Workers Unite” has any particular significance in a political system designed to entrap everyone in a miasma of misery. He may have already declared his allegiance in various public and semi-public ways through participation in Party activities, without ever believing the concepts. But one must go along to get along.

And yet, though many of the customers will not particularly care about the sentiment “Workers Unite,” because it has no real meaning, the minor resistance of the greengrocer in no affirming the approved common sentiment will be deemed a rebellion. In a post-totalitarian society, social auto-totality will lead to conformity, as word will spread and reach the authorities who will by force ensure compliance, often by removing the right to work. It may not be physical force that is brought to bear, but commercial and social pressure.

The crime of the greengrocer was simply to stop living the lie. He had never truly believed the slogans, like most of the population, but had simply done what was needed to get by. In that moment when he chose to stop putting up slogans, stop voting in farcical elections, and, perhaps, even positively voice an opinion at a political meeting, the greengrocer will have begun to live in the truth, but society will not allow it.

Havel writes as one who has experienced a post-totalitarian system under Communist rule. He worked against the system, though the system did not acknowledge him, and eventually became the prime minister of Czechoslovakia after the end of the Communist oppression ended.

We, however, are seeing the beginning of a very different regime of oppression that is being brought to bear on society more gradually and yet no less insidiously. At present, there is still room to live in the truth, but there are an increasing number of voices looking to make the lie the only possible way of life.

Consider, for example, the rush to ignore differences in sexual expression and the demand to support various forms of LGBTQ lifestyles. One may think those good or not, but participation in much of society is now becoming dependent on active, public affirmation of those lifestyles. There is no room for neutrality or even quietly thinking, along with many of the voices in human history, that this is an unhealthy lifestyle. Instead, employers require affirmation of “diversity” along arbitrarily invented lines, which necessarily exclude diversity of thought, or, really, any thought at all. To refuse to wear a rainbow ribbon on the culturally approved day or affirm the latest evolution in sexual ethics is a form of open rebellion, much as the green grocer’s refusal to post the sign, “Workers Unite.”

At times there is force of law behind these edicts, as with the states that are attacking bakers and florists that decline to participate in same-sex wedding celebrations, but much of the punishment for violating societal norms is meted out by regular people. This is an auto-totality. In Western culture, it is likely to get worse before it gets better.

Havel’s concerns are certainly different than those we face in the auto-totality, but the methods used by the contemporary culture to gain and maintain control are similar to those used by the Soviets in oppressing the people of Eastern Europe. Havel’s essay, “Power to the Powerless,” is informative because it provides a roadmap for those who disagree with the consensus that is being hammered over society to maintain their integrity and not live the lie.

The hope of the resistance should be to create an existential revolution, so that people see and pursue a radically different way of thinking and knowing. That is, the resistance needs to demonstrate that an alternate, moral reality exists and live in a way that points people toward it.

As Havel writes,

“Above all, any existential revolution should provide hope of a moral reconstitution of society, which means a radical renewal of the relationship of human beings to what I have called the ‘human order’, which no political order can replace. A new experience of being, a renewed rootedness in the universe, a newly grasped sense of ‘higher responsibility’, a new-found inner relationship to other people and to the human community – these factor clearly indicate the direction in which we go.”

Havel wrote his ideas on living in truth to fuel an existential revolution leading to moral reconstitution when the fall of communism still seemed unlikely. As the storm clouds of our present auto-totality continue to deepen, we may find it necessary to tighten the boundaries of our contrast communities, rebuild the moral structures within them, and live with greater integrity to demonstrate the plausibility of our moral vision for the world.

The Power of the Powerless: Citizens Against the State in Central Eastern Europe: Citizens Against the State in Central Eastern Europe

By Havel, Vaclav

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The Humane Economy of Wilhelm Ropke

To some people, free market economics is the worst social evil of our age that is responsible for every other social evil. What causes Racism? Capitalism. Child abuse? Free market. Objectification of women? The market economy. War? Economic liberty. Poverty? The same. Bad hair days? Definitely capitalism, too. You get the idea.

On the other hand, there are others for whom free market economics are akin to the good news of Jesus Christ. Andrew Carnegie did, after all, write a book called, The Gospel of Wealth, which largely extols the market economy. There are others to this day who see capitalism as not merely permissible by God, but actually required by a correct reading of Scripture.

In reality, liberty, including economic freedom, is a necessary condition for human flourishing, but it isn’t a sufficient condition. The free market economy the cleanest dirty shirt we’ve got. Like any human system, it has sinful people involved, so it is subject to abuse and distortion. Unlike other human economies that have been envisioned, it has the best means to keep people’s natural tendencies toward evil and oppression in check.

One of the most careful proponents of a free market that I’ve read in Wilhelm Röpke. He was a German who emigrated to Turkey in 1933 because of his resistance to the National Socialist regime. Early in his life he was inspired by socialism, later by the Austrian school of economics, and finally landed on a position that encourages a free market with targeted and limited government interventions. Röpke argued for what might be described as a humane capitalism. Röpke was one of the main thinkers that inspired the creation of the West German economic system after World War II, which helped to shape its balance between social welfare and free market, a system that resulted in West Germany rapidly recovering and developing into an economic power, with East Germany lagging behind, mired in socialism.

Röpke’s classic book, A Humane Economy, is an important book for socialists and libertarians to read so they understand both the needs for and perils of a free market.

One of Röpke’s concerns is over “mass society.” It was the enmassment of human activity that Röpke had witnessed in the rise of fascism in Europe before the war. Like other forms of socialism, the National Socialists ceased to recognize people as individuals or small units, and pursued global solutions with a faceless homo economicus as the actor. This faceless stand in for humans sometimes makes a good generalization, but it fails to take into account the goodness of owning a business, of small firms being able to compete in a grand economy, and of individual craftsmanship. At the extremes, unfettered capitalism and socialism lend themselves to aggregating humans into the faceless mass. Röpke was just as opposed to corporate monopolies as he was to state monopolies. Unlike some contemporary neoliberals, Röpke recognized that the power of the state was essential in preventing any sort of monopoly from forming.

What makes Röpke particularly significant is that he honestly represents the damage that redistributive programs like welfare can have as they encourage inflationary economics and can reduce the incentives to engage in meaningful economic activity. At the same time, he demonstrates that well-designed welfare systems can be essential to provide a safety net and can actually prevent the worst cases of abuse by the state and by corporate entities. Röpke is exactly the sort of thinker that will make people on both poles of contemporary social and economic debate uncomfortable, which is one of the best reasons to listen to him.

Another important aspect of Röpke’s perspective is that he emphasizes the necessary balance between collectivism and individualism. Both ideas in the extreme are debilitating to society. Röpke writes, “Man can fulfill his nature only by freely becoming part of a community and having a sense of solidarity with it. Otherwise he leads a miserable existence and he knows it.” A more apt criticism of most forms of socialism and the contemporary economy in the United States could not be written. In socialism, one is forced to assimilate with the mass, to contribute as the authorities deem necessary and to receive in exchange only that which the collective deems warranted. In late post-industrial capitalism, one tends to be isolated from the collective, set to gain what one can earn on her own, and catechized to believe that individual freedom is something of a summum bonum. To some degree, at least, Röpke seems to offer a golden mean.

In A Humane Economy there is resistance both to state totalitarianism and the totalitarian utilitarianism of some economics. But he is unquestionably opposed to the ravages of Communism. Röpke argues:

“Totalitarianism gains ground exactly to the extent that the human victims of this process of [social] disintegration suffer from frustration and non-fulfillment of their life as a whole because they have lost the true, pre-eminently non-material conditions of human happiness.”

He continues,

“What the free world has to set against Communism is not the cult of the standard of living and productivity or some contrary hysteria, ideology, or myth. This would merely be borrowing Communism’s own weapons. What we need is to bethink ourselves quietly and soberly of truth, freedom, justice, human dignity, and respect of human life and the ultimate values. For these we must set our course unerringly; we must cherish and strengthen the spiritual and moral foundations of these values and vital goods and try to create and preserve for mankind such forms of life as are appropriate to human nature and support and protect its conditions.”

This sort of attitude is what makes Röpke so helpful. He recognizes the horrors of socialistic economics, but also sees the abyss that is a purely materialistic utilitarian capitalism. Röpke reminds us that at the heart of the economy is the human. We are not graphs and statistics alone. Those things can be helpful, but they are not enough. We need to be more humane by treating people around us like humans. Economics can only function when it is constrained by virtue.

A Humane Economy: The Social Framework of the Free Market

By Röpke, Wilhelm

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Sophie's World - A Review

There are a few seminary students that I know that still live in fear of their introduction to philosophy course, and they’ve already graduated.

For some people, philosophy and its history remains a mystery even after they read the books, write the paper, and pass the test. And yet, the history of philosophy is a significant subject of concern for people that want to understand our present culture, because today’s culture is built on yesterday’s ideas.

In trying to educate my children, I have wondered how to provide an introduction to philosophical ideas that would put things at the right level without losing the content to critique or so watering down the concepts as to make them unintelligible. When a friend noted that her homeschool co-op was going to use Sophie’s World as a way of introducing these concepts I was intrigued and ordered a copy.

Sophie’s World is a novel about the history of philosophy. It is also a novel about a young Norwegian girl named Sophie. I can’t give away too much of the structure without spoiling some of the mystery that unfolds over the course of the book, but suffice it to say there are some strange twists to the plot that make the story interesting, if a bit bizarre, and are actually useful in illustrating some of the points of the volume.

I am not a philosopher, but I have studied enough philosophy to recognize when a named philosopher is being described accurately. Within the realm of academia, of course, there are heated debates about what Plato really meant and whether the Cynics were always in earnest. However, this book takes the entry level historical discussions of philosophers and presents their perspectives in a recognizable way. Leave it to the college professor to nuance the understanding, and deepen it with more data, but this is Newtonian physics in a quantum world: pretty close to accurate and simple enough to gain a foothold for later exploration.

As a Christian theologian, the representations of Christian thinkers was the most distorted. The Christians depicted by Gaarder are flat and lifeless. This is probably the way a philosopher views the explanations of some of the different schools of philosophy. It isn’t debilitating, but it is unimpressive. Some students are likely to gain a little of the famous sophomoric skepticism from reading the book, but a rich immersion in theology afterward is likely to help reinforce sound doctrine.

Sophie’s World also has strong preference for the myth of progress. The storyline of philosophy is presented as if each philosopher advanced on the theories of previous philosophers toward some future state when, if Gaarder got his way, everyone would be governed by the United Nations. Considering that this book was originally published by a Norwegian in 1994, that view of things is understandable, but that piece of the story gets a little preachy.

Some parents may have concern about a few elements of the story, as well. Throughout the story, the young teenager Sophie lies to her mother (her estranged father is away at sea) and meets up alone with a middle-aged man who becomes her philosophy tutor. Parts of this read like the lead up to a 20/20 episode, but fortunately it doesn’t result in the tragic end that would have made the air. In the chapter on Sigmund Freud there is a reference to a boy dreaming about balloons that are said to represent a girl’s breasts, which is pretty tame as Freud goes.

The last couple of chapters dip into the absurd. At Sophie’s philosophy themed birthday party the participants behave bizarrely, with one of Sophie’s friend pouncing on a male classmate with kissing implied and apparent sex in the bushes, off camera. The girl declares that she’s pregnant (absurdly) to reinforce just what’s going on. Of course, what the reader gets from some of these references will depend on what the reader knows, so parents are likely to read more into the stories than an innocent child. In any case, none of these concerns are enough to justify avoiding the book. The questionable content is not extreme, nor is it close to what is available in a lot of young adult literature, but it is easier to know in advance as a parent than to find out after your child points it out.

As a vehicle for communicating the history of philosophy, this is an excellent volume. There are points where the text does turn a bit dry and the dialogue does seem more like philosophy notes than conversation, but the novel is a vessel for the content. As a novel, this would not be on my list of top stories, but there is enough story and character to make the drier content more engaging. Taken as a whole, this is a very useful tool for introducing a young student to philosophy in a manageable, reasonably entertaining format.

Sophie's World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy (FSG Classics)

By Jostein Gaarder

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