Battling for Joy (and Losing to Worry)


Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul

I’m not very good at Joy (yes, that is a capital “J” as C.S. Lewis would have liked it).  Who knows how many articles, books, sermons, even my own devotional time has revealed the unshakable joy that is to be found in Christ.  I know it in my head, I can exegete it from the Scriptures, and I can exhort others to follow it, but I am so weak in my own application of this rich treasure.

In absolute transparent weakness, my world gets rocked by silly things.  They are first world problems.  A dryer breaks.  A faucet leaks.  A computer malfunctions and if it all happens on the same day I find myself asking what kind of menacing spiritual warfare lurks behind these catastrophes.  Certainly there must be fierce correspondence between my Wormwood and his Screwtape.

Unfortunately those letters probably more run in the vein of, “This is too easy.”  My joy is as fragile as an egg.

It is humbling to think seriously of the lyrics above as a measure for maintaining a heart of joy.  Horatio Spafford’s hymn reveals the gloriously beaten Rock of Joy that his life is affixed to.  How can one even begin to say, “It is well” after you lose your four daughters in a ship wreck?  I think it is suffering when my iPhone screen cracks.

The truth resides in the fact that Spafford wasn’t clinging to his joy.  That isn’t a human joy that can weather such a loss.  The wind and rain beat upon Spafford’s life.  Windows were broken.  The basement flooded.  Part of the roof was torn off.  But the house stood because it was built upon the Rock.  Other houses didn’t make it.

Such incredible suffering revealed what was truly there: Spafford’s deep roots in Jesus Christ.  Such a glorious hymn is a testimony of the fruit of the Spirit and the trueness of Christ’s words: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”  (Now as I write the spiritual light bulb comes on…)

The all sovereign God allows suffering and evil according to his loving counsel so it might reveal what is really there.  For was it not the Father who allowed such a great evil to come upon the Son?  Did not the Son willingly walk into that storm?  Was he not lost beneath the waves like Jonah?  Yet, what was revealed by Christ’s suffering?  The most glorious truth in all of history.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul

Christ has defeated sin and put death in the grave.  No matter what storm God may allow  in to my life, he will not let me walk through it alone nor will the storm be meaningless.  I have been purchased by his blood and he bore the storm of my sins on the cross.  It cost him everything and me nothing.  No suffering I face could ever measure up nor could it separate me from him.  This is where joy resides.

So I will keep singing: “It is well, with my soul.”  I’ll sing through the small sufferings and the big until it gets down deep in my heart.


Is Education a Hammer?

I don’t remember much of my schooling while at college. I remember meeting my wife for the first time. I remember the great friends I made and the fun we had. I remember the campus ministry I was involved in. I don’t remember much of what I was taught.

I do remember thinking, “The reason why I am here is to get an education to get a job. I can’t wait to be done here and get that job.” The further back I go the more I see a common theme. While I was in high school it was all about getting good grades so that I could get into a good college. Even as an elementary child I remember hearing that same line of thinking repeated.

Now as a headmaster of a school, I continue to hear the same line repeated. We come up with better names though like, “career readiness.” I get it. We want to save kids from a life time of working at Taco Bell (I’m not saying that, they are). But could it be possible that education is more than that?

My wife and I enjoy watching the Amazing Race. It’s silly, yes, but we do it anyway. There is often a kind of contestant who periodically shows up in a season. They are the “educated” person who sees their education as a strength over the other contestants. Many of these have Ph.Ds in some mechanical science. Yet, as you watch them throughout the race, they don’t have a cent of wisdom in them at all. They don’t know how to manage their resources. They don’t know how to work with their partner. They are ready and willing to cast off all ethics if it suits their advantage in the race. Pragmatism.

Will Roger’s famous quote fits nicely here:

There is nothing so stupid as an educated man, if you get him off the thing he was educated in.

This is education as a hammer. Hammers are good for hitting or pulling nails. They are not good much else.  We shouldn’t just use a hammer when we are building a house.

Yet, that is often how education is viewed in the west today, even among Christians.  One of the greatest insights progressive secular culture has understood is those who control the school control the culture.  They have sold the song of the “neutral school” and used it to shape the hearts and minds of generations.  They have realized that education shapes a person.

Why is it that according to variety research institutions 70-80% of students leave Christianity after college?  As a former youth pastor I always struggled with that statistic.  The truth is meeting for two hours every Wednesday and going to camp every summer can’t over come the institutional shaping of the public school system.  Could it be students “lose their faith” because they have spent their whole education being shaped to embrace progressive secularism?

Yet, we as Christian parents tell ourselves…

“He has good Christian friends.  He’ll be okay in high school.”

“She will learn to defend her faith!”

“It’s and opportunity for my kids to be salt and light.”

We don’t send missionaries into foreign countries to be salt and light without training and evidence of spiritual maturity.  Why would we think that our children would be an exception?

Education is not a hammer.  Education is always religious and it is always full person.  It is time that we as Christians began to treat it that way.

Scholé Monday

Scholé is a form of restful learning centered on contemplation. It is about giving due time to the things that are worth thinking about. So often in our modern life style we are in a rush to get something done. While this makes us move faster through our to do lists, it does little for our soul. So why not carve out some time to meditate this week on the following:

If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.

– G. K. Chesterton


Scholé Monday

Scholé is a form of restful learning centered on contemplation. It is about giving due time to the things that are worth thinking about. So often in our modern life style we are in a rush to get something done. While this makes us move faster through our to do lists, it does little for our soul. So why not carve out some time to meditate this week on the following:

Jesus Pulling Peter from the Water 12th century mosaic from Sicily

Book Review in Three


Notes From The Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson

Book Review in Three is my attempt to give a short summary of my thoughts on a book I’ve finished.  The goal is a reading time no longer than three minutes.  By nature, these won’t be exhaustive reviews and often I may link to others who have gone more in-depth for deeper analysis when needed.

This is not the first book I’ve read by Wilson. His book Death By Living was my introduction to his seemingly haphazard writing style. Needless to say I loved that book. Wilson was able to express thoughts I’ve struggled to articulate for a long time. He is able to weave together the seemingly random and mundane with the utterly brain spinning power of God’s sovereignty (only like a good Calvinist could).

While Death dealt with biblical concept that to live really means to die to ourselves, Notes tackles the problem of evil.

The problem of evil is usually the first place a secular/atheist/westerner unbeliever goes.

“If God is good, then why is there evil?”

Any Christian worth their salt needs to have an apologetic toolbox that deals with such objections. Unfortunately, while often logically sound and passionately fought for, such answers on this topic can ring hollow. They usually lack skin in the game. Evil can become academic too quickly. A pastoral 101 no-no would be to try to open said apologetic toolbox at a funeral.

This is where Wilson hits it out of the park. He has the apologetic chops. He knows Hume and Niche, but he answers them incarnationaly.

Life isn’t a lab experiment. It is a story. God is writing the greatest story ever, with billions of plot lines all woven together.

But to an infinite artist, a Creator in love with His craft, there is no unimportant corner, there is no thrown-away image, no tattered thread in the novel left untied.

The problem of evil is ultimately soul crushing if man is at the center of the answer. If we reason up to God from our fallen and haughty position we end up despising God for the story he has written. We shake our fists and say, “How could you let this happen!” It’s as if we expect God to be running our script when it is actually the other way around.

Do you dislike your role in the story, your place in the shadow? What complaints do we have that the hobbits could not have heaved at Tolkien? You have been born into a narrative, you have been given freedom. Act, and act well until you reach the final scene.

It’s not our story. God is not following our script. We are in his story and he has written every drop of it. Every crazy subatomic particle is obeying Him right now. Every solar flair and black hole is acting their parts. It is only us, made is his image who sought to grab the pen for ourselves, who fret and are angered by the beauty of the Author’s narrative. This is what Wilson draws out so well. He reminds us of how utterly small we are while how gracious the Story Teller is.

For ultimately God was not satisfied just to write us our parts, but he wrote himself into his story.

He exists on two planes. He sees the story as He tells it, while He weaves it, shapes it, and sings it. And He stepped inside it.

Christ came as the author in order to die for his people. He bore the evil that they allowed into His perfect world. He drank every drop of the righteous wrath that evil deserved. Then he put evil, sin, and death in the grave when he walked out of the tomb. It was always the point of the story.

Wilson’s book is one of the best I’ve read on this subject. He as able to stretch our narrow gaze to see how much bigger this whole thing is.

I highly recommend it.


Scholé Monday

Scholé is a form of restful learning centered on contemplation. It is about giving due time to the things that are worth thinking about. So often in our modern life style we are in a rush to get something done. While this makes us move faster through our to do lists, it does little for our soul. So why not carve out some time to meditate this week on the following:

The Return of the Prodigal Son by Rembrandt 1669

A Speck on a Speck on a Speck

“We are just a speck, on a speck, orbiting a speck, in the corner of a speck, in the middle of nowhere.”  – Bill Nye

I was a huge fan of Bill Nye growing up.  He changed science for me, like so many kids of the 90’s, making it accessible and fun.  If I had Netflix back then, I would have just binged watched “Bill Nye the Science Guy” until my parents made me turn the TV off.  Unfortunately that Bill Nye is long gone and I miss him terribly but, that’s neither here nor there.

Interestingly, I read a very similar quote to the one Bill Nye made above, except it was made a few thousand years ago:

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” 

 – King David, Psalm 8:3-4

I am struck with how similar these two quotes are yet they come to very different conclusions.


I’ve written before how the stars “catch” us.  There are those moments we all have when we get snapped out of the dailiness of our lives and find that the stars are watching us.  Their brilliance and number demand a reaction.  It’s incredible how piercing and perceptive their questions are: “Is what you are doing right now meaningful?  Does it really matter?  In fact, does even your life matter at all?  Look at us!  We were here much longer than you and we will be here much longer when you are gone.”

Bill Nye’s reaction to the star’s questions is a logical one.  How can we not feel utterly insignificant?  Then, as Bill rightly tells us, we realize that our planet is a tiny speck in a huge solar system, and our solar system is a tiny speck in a massive galaxy, and our galaxy a tiny speck among the trillions of other galaxies in the universe.  We begin to see the power of the star’s questions.

Bill of course uses this line of reasoning as an argument against any kind of theistic notion for human significance.  He would happily answer the star’s questions with a resounding “No”.  We are meaningless.  We are a fortunate (?) accident that really is just a blip on the universe’s timeline.  All that we do and all we achieve will not be remembered when we finally go extinct.  The stars will still be there, but we won’t.


I imagine that Psalm 8 came to David as the stars caught him out one night.  They asked him the same questions and David felt the weight of human meaninglessness, but from the other side of the coin:

 “what is man that you are mindful of him”

If there is a Creator as David believed, why should he care so much about us?  Why, out of all of the billions and trillions of other things in the universe should he focus on us.  We are insignificant.  We are just a speck.  But then there is a scarier thought:  What if humans really are meaningful?  What if what we do really does matter?  What if the One who made all that out there cares about the choices I make?  What if he cares about good and evil, right and wrong?  That’s not a comforting thought.  For no matter how big and powerful the universe is, the One who made them is more.  He transcends their power and their existence.  Before the stars, he was.

If we suppose that this God looks at the course of human history, or even more personally our own lives, things get a bit messier.  Not only are we small insignificant things compared to him, but we have been living in opposition to him.  We act like he isn’t there.  We act like we know what is right and wrong in the universe he created.  We specks walk around like we own the place and we don’t give two thoughts to it.  We scream, “Look at us and what we have accomplished!”  Yet everything, including the very minds we use to think about how awesome we are without him, belong to him.  That’s cosmic plagiarism.  You and I seek justice over far smaller offenses.


At this point, Bill’s version of the universe is far more comforting.  Better to be meaningless than on the wrong side of meaningful.  Yet, thankfully, David lovely song reveals more:

 “what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

David’s use of “mindful” isn’t an “if” but a truth about the God he knows.  God is mindful and he is caring of insignificant little humans.  God has crowned us “with glory and honor”.  He cares for us.  He pays close attention to us.  More than that, he loves us.  The broken, rebellious, ignorant little creatures that we are.  And even more still, not only is he mindful but he got involved.  The God that David is praising in Psalm 8 is the God who became a speck.  Think on that.  God became a speck on a speck on a speck.  Why?  To save the little specks he loves.  To give his life to save ours.  To do us good and not replay us the evil we have shown him.

This is far more awe inducing than the questions of the stars.  Yet we say in passing, “God loves you” just like we pass under the heavens and give them no thought.  Then there are those times when God catches us out.  When this reality of his love comes home to our little hearts.  And when it does, everything changes forever.


The Death of Socrates

“Modern man does not have an answer to the question of why. Our society is the first one that simply does not give us any answer to the problem of suffering except a thousand means of avoiding it.” -Peter Kreeft

During my college career, the importance of the Socratic method was imposed upon me in several of my classes. For a history teacher, it would seem that one of the bread and butter lessons plans involved using it as a class activity. I will be honest. I never really understood why (ironic I know) I should do it. Yes, I understood that questioning is a good thing and that the Socratic format lent itself to getting students to talk about history beyond dates and names, but I never got the underlying reason for it’s existence. More often then not, I just simply saw it as a way to fill a lesson and check off the requirements imposed on me by state learning targets. It was a means to end, not an end itself. Obviously, no one really taught me why the Socratic method is important. I’m not talking about why it’s important for teaching, but why it is important to the human soul.


As a teenager, C.S. Lewis was sent by his father to William Kirpatrick for tutoring. Kirpatrick was known as the Old Knock and Lewis at first thought he was in for a “perpetual lukewarm shower bath of sentimentality”. Much to Lewis’ surprise he received quite the opposite when he stepped off the train to meet Kirpatrick:

Apparently, however, the old man was holding his fire. We shook hands, and though his grip was like iron pincers it was not lingering. A few minutes later we were walking away from the station. “You are now,” said Kirk, “proceeding along the principal artery between Great and Little Bookham.” I stole a glance at him. Was this geographical exordium a heavy joke? Or was he trying to conceal his emotions? His face, however, showed only an inflexible gravity. I began to “make conversation” in the deplorable manner which I had acquired at those evening parties and indeed found increasingly necessary to use with my father. I said I was surprised at the “scenery” of Surrey; it was much “wilder” than I had expected. “Stop!” shouted Kirk with a suddenness that made me jump. “What do you mean by wildness and what grounds had you for not expecting it?” -From Surprised by Joy

With in the first fifteen minutes the Old Knock cut right through the fluff and got the point. The things we say aren’t meaningless. There is meaning and belief that is tied much deeper in our thinking that leads to the words that come out of our mouths. The problem is that so often we don’t bother to think about “why we say what we say”. We just say it. The Old Knock questioned Lewis relentlessly throughout his time with him. Lewis loved every minute of it. It’s not hard to see that without the Old Knock Lewis may never have reached the philosophical heights of Mere Christianity and the Abolition of Man. Through the relentless questioning, Lewis’ beliefs were sharpened and he became able to cut away those beliefs that failed the test.

And this is the heart of the Socratic method. It is a tool used to discard faulty beliefs and sharpen true ones. And this only comes by questioning.


Why is it then, that I was taught how to use the Socratic method instead of being taught why we use the Socratic method? I attended college in the mid-2000s and American culture was already beginning to walk in the “Age of Authenticity” as Charles Taylor puts it. It is the:

“…social imaginary of expressive individualism” —the “understanding . . . that each one of us has his/her own way of realizing our humanity, and that it is important to find and live out one’s own, as against surrendering to conformity with a model imposed on us from the outside”

My generation, and even more so the generation after me, grew up not with a knowledge of seeking what is true, but rather we grew up with the idea we should seek what is authentic. We are the “self-esteem” and “you can be anything you want to be” kids. We were told that our limits were only the limits of our dreams. That is, I should be spending my life by defining my own significance and not conforming to past patterns, regardless of their truthfulness. It’s not just “being” myself, it’s becoming what I want to be. In order for this to be possible, all other constraints must bow, specifically that anyone would challenge my personal idea of significance.

Now we can begin to see why the Socratic method has been turned into some spineless abomination we use simply to pass the time in a high school history class… We are afraid of it. Because in the Age of Authenticity my ideas and beliefs become my identity. They are part of me personally. This is different than holding a deep conviction. For if someone really believes and values the pursuit of truth then even deep convictions may find themselves under the chopping block. But in the Age of Authenticity, to challenge an idea means that we are also challenging someone personally. The result of this shift is that we are perpetually outraged and offended when we are questioned. We take it personally instead of letting our ideas stand separate from who we are as an individual.

The consequences of this are dire. We have traded the pursuit of truth for the idol of “being whatever we want to be” in the fullest sense. Not only has truth been utterly marginalized through relativizing it, but we have destroyed any real way of having a respectful disagreement. For as James K. A. Smith summarizes the Age of Authenticity:

“Do your own thing, who am I to judge? The only sin is intolerance.”


What’s the outcome of this shift? We stop meaningfully engaging. There are two options before us: 1) shout at each other our personally authentic beliefs that we are unwilling to test via the pursuit of truth, or 2) never question anyone in any meaningful way for fear of offending. The byproduct of this is the devaluing of thinking and questioning the deepest and most important things of the human experience. We just don’t want to go there. And it seems when we do, we end up just offending and being angry.

So the natural reaction is to disengage. We stop thinking about it. We just believe: “Do your own thing, who am I to judge?” In so doing, we shut the door to the beautiful and character enriching skill of truth seeking. Instead we look to escape this reality. It seems we almost find being “authentic” unbearable. We pour hours into “reality” T.V., role playing video games, or any other distraction to take our minds off of having to engage our souls. For it seems that our souls won’t stop whispering. It takes considerable effort to silence them.


It’s here that we turn to Jesus. Why is it that he just doesn’t seem to go away? Why is it this figure that stands so opposed to the idol of our authenticity, still found on the covers of the magazines while we are in line at the grocery store? One reason, (I realize there are many) is that he doesn’t afford us the opportunity to say of him, “Do your own thing, who am I to judge?”.

One of Jesus’ central claims is that he is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life”. As in, the fullest and truest senses of those words are found in him and through him alone. But following Jesus isn’t an instant answer. He is not only the destination of truth, but he is also the way. We must search for the treasure and the pearl. We must “ask, seek, and knock.”

One of the best ways Jesus displayed this is in Mark chapter 8:

27 And Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi. And on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” 28 And they told him, “John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets.” 29 And he asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Christ.”

Jesus asked his disciples two very Socratic questions ultimately that the truth might be revealed. Peter responds, after spending constant time with Jesus for years “You are the Christ.” During his time with Jesus, Peter’s beliefs had been challenged. The ideas about how the world worked had been questioned. Jesus challenged Peter to cut away the untruthful beliefs and keep the ones that were truthful.

You see, we start in on Jesus by questioning him in the hopes that we can put some dampeners on his claims. The more we question him though, we find that he begins questioning us. And this is why in our Age of Authenticity we discard Jesus. As Chesterton so powerfully says:

“The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.”