CROATOAN

Capital Homesteading

2005-02-01T14:29:00.000-05:00

It's been a while... but don't call it a comeback. I decided that I found something interesting and wanted to know what all you BLOGGERS out there thought.

As some of you know, I'm studying at the American Studies Program in Washington, D.C. It's a great break from Geneva, because honestly I was getting sick of the place (Mom if you read this it's not because I don't like). Part of the semester is having an internship. I could think of few things worse than opening mail and taking people of tours of the Capital; so, I figured I'd find an internship about something I actually cared about.

After much searching, and almost giving up, I found the Center for Economic and Social Justice. I know it sounds big and important, but it's three people (plus the intern) working out of a basement. I really wasn't expecting this when I signed up, but it's too late now.

Anyways, what I want to know if what you all think of Capital Homesteading. Now, I know that none of you know what that is, but it's an interesting take on "saving" Social Security and changing our economy. I'm no economist, but this proposal seems rather amazing to me. So here's what I'm asking you to do. Go here www.cesj.org and read as much as you feel like... especially this. Then come back to our humble blogging abode and let me know what you think. I really want to know.

Chris Carson

And deliver us from evil...

2005-01-31T22:30:00.000-05:00

In the last couple weeks, I have been depressed about the fragility of human life and how close we all are to evil. First, a deacon at my roommate's church committed suicide. I didn't know the man, but my roommate said he didn't see it coming at all. The man had 4 kids and his daughter found him. He had apparently lost his job and gotten depressed to the point that he thought his family would rather have him dead by suicide than living. I can't imagine what it will be like for those kids or his wife to have to explain every once in awhile that their dad committed suicide. Rather than experiencing joy when they think of their family, they will have to bring up a deeply personal, saddening memory.

It also showed me just how capable we are--I am--of committing heinous sins. If a deacon in a church without any terrible (I guess this is relative) problems can commit suicide seemingly out of the blue, what's to keep me or someone I love from doing the same? Hearing about the deacon's suicide made me realize how physically easy it is. It may be extremely difficult or close to impossible mentally and spiritually, but physically, just about anyone can do it. It seems like all it could take is a momentary lapse of sanity, a severe temptation by the devil, etc. This is very scary to me.

I have also been reading Bartolome De Las Casas' Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies, a graphic description of the atrocities committed by Europeans in their conquest of the Americas. It is unbelievably gruesome and gratuitous, and I couldn't really think about it too deeply without feeling like I was sinning. In class, my favorite professor made a comment something along the lines of what I said above. He said, "Whenever we interact with people to take rather than to give, only genetics and historical circumstance separate us from the conquistador." This is a very disturbing thought, and also gives a lot more significance to what I typically see as minor sins.

Though I was distrubed by it very much a few years ago, I have been at peace with the doctrine of predestination for the last two years. I am about as convinced as I get that predestination is biblical. The events of the last couple weeks have made me much more uncomfortable with the doctrine, even though I still believe it's biblical. How can there be suicide among God's people? Aren't we protected from at least suicide? How can a whole race of people be slaughtered brutally by another race of people that had some type of exposure to the Bible? It has all seemed more arbitrary than it has in the past to me. I know about Job, and the potter and the pot, but my faith has taken a beating over this nonetheless.

I have been praying more than ever for God's protection in my own life and in the lives of the people I know. Paradoxically, I think my prayers have been about as earnest as they get from me at the same time as my faith has been under attack. God is the only one who can give me the comfort I seek, but he is also the one I am suspicious of and having trouble with. I remember the time that my mom could comfort me about this type of stuff, but now God is the only option. I probably need to spend some time in the Psalms.

Matt Stewart

Antony Flew's theism

2005-01-13T19:26:00.000-05:00

Antony Flew, a famous atheist, has recently become a theist/deist along the lines of Thomas Jefferson, apparently because the evidence for theism according to his criteria became too convincing. He still does not accept any kind of divine revelation. Here is a news article on his “conversion,” and here is an interview of Flew by Gary Habermas, who was instrumental in Flew’s becoming a theist. It seems that he answered the evidentialist challenge to belief in God in favor of God. This is interesting to me in light of my recent study of reformed epistemology, which considers the evidentialist challenge invalid, and also cites Flew as believing that God is “guilty until proven innocent,” rather than innocent until proven guilty, as the reformed epistemologists submit can be the case.

This brought to mind one of the ideas I struggled with most with reformed epistemology.
Though I cannot grasp all the nuances, I think I understand that the reformed epistemologists believe (in the tradition of Kuyper) that there can be two “rational” sciences that entail different presuppositions and different conclusions, namely a regenerate science and an unregenerate science. Kuyper believed that Christians and non-Christians could be equally scientific, but have different starting points and frameworks of assumptions. So they were not working on one building in the name of science, but on two different buildings. (From George Marsden’s Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism, 122) This is in opposition to B.B. Warfield, who believed that science was an “objective, unified, and cumulative enterprise of the entire human race,” and that basically rational discussion would always lead to belief in God (Marsden, 123).

Though it seems that Kuyper has basically won in the minds of most (at least in the circles I read), I still can’t get my mind around the whole idea for one reason: I would like to think that an idea can’t be rational if it misrepresents reality, which it seems like I would have to admit if I were to accept the Kuyperian view. Can a view of science that misses out on reality itself really be considered to be rational? I can see that a person who believes in the eternality of the cosmos, as Carl Sagan does—“The cosmos is all there is, there was, or ever will be”—would be able to concoct a mostly consistent and believable body of beliefs, but is this necessarily rational? I guess this depends on one’s definition of rational, but it still seems like a point I can’t let go. Wouldn’t any science that misrepresents reality be bad science, not merely unregenerate science? I guess maybe this assumes too much out of a human ability to understand reality.

As has been the case with all I’ve written in response to my epistemology class, I look back on what I write and feel like I have just contradicted what I said by how I wrote it, or some other inconsistency. So basically I am writing this in the hope that I need to put stuff down on paper and make mistakes in order to gain better understanding. With that, can anyone offer any help with this topic based on my rambling? And does anyone have thoughts on Flew's theism?

Matt Stewart

"Einstein on the Beach" or "The Search"?

2005-01-08T12:21:00.000-05:00

For the last semester, I have been blowing all the fuses in my brain as a result of a class called Reformed Epistemology with Dr. Esther Meek. I start to think about one of the many topics the class brings up, feel like I'm getting somewhere, and then all the sudden my brain pops, just like a fuse. It refuses to go on further. The books I read for the class were Faith and Rationality, edited by Nicholas Wolterstorff and Alvin Plantinga, Longing to Know, by Esther Meek, and Reason within the Bounds of Religion, by Wolterstorff.

I have never been more paralyzed when writing a paper than I was in that class. Throughout the paper-writing process I kept thinking about two different songs: "Einstein on the Beach", by Counting Crows, and "The Search", by Dolorean.

Here's "Einstein on the Beach":

Albert's always sincere, he's a sensitive type
His intentions are clear, he wanna be well-liked
If everything is nothing, then are we anything?
Is it better to be better than to be anything?
And Albert's vision is blooming uncontrolled
All his wings are slowly sinking
The world begins to disappear
The worst things come from inside here
All the king's men reappear
For an eggman, on and off the wall
Who'll never be together again
Einstein's down on the beach staring into the sand
Cause everything he believes in is shattered
What you fear in the night in the day comes to call anyway-ay
We all get burned as:
One more sun comes sliding down the sky
One more shadow leans against the wall
The world begins to disappear
The worst things come from inside here
And all the king's men reappear
For an eggman, on and off the wall
Who'll never be together again
Albert's waiting in the sun
On a field American
For the cause of some inflated form of hit and run
One more sun comes sliding down the sky
One more shadow leans against the wall
The world begins to disappear
The worst things come from inside here
And all the king's men reappear
For an eggman, fallin' off the wall
Will never be together again
Albert's fallen on the sun
Cracked his head wide open
The world begins to disappear
The worst things come from inside here
And all the king's men reappear
For an eggman, falling, falling
The world begins to disappear
The worst things come from inside here
And all the king's men reappear
For an eggman, fallin' off the wall
Will never be together again
No never be together again
No no never never never again, uh huh
What you fear in the night in the day comes to call anyway

This song illustrates to me what epistemology is without the God of the Bible: an eggman falling off the wall. It's impossible to put the thing together. I also felt at times that my head cracked wide open, and the world began to disappear. Thinking about knowledge sometimes makes it seem like all there is is what's up in my head. I don't think that at all, but I can see how that feeling comes about.

Here's what I see as a more accurate account of my epistemological situation (I'm thinking here mostly of the honest searching part, and the affirmation that "wisdom is found in the fear of the Lord" part):

Dolorean "The Search"

Surely there is a mine for silver
And a place where they refine gold
Iron is taken from the hills
And copper is taken from the ground
So where's the place of understanding
And where can wisdom be found?

No bird of prey has gazed upon it
Nor falcon I have seen
It's never been passed by a fierce lion
Or trod upon by earthly beasts
So where's the place of understanding?
And where can wisdom be found?

Pure gold cannot be traded for it
Please don't mention crystalware
Topaz of Africa cannot equal it
And fine pearls fail to compare
So where's the place of understanding?
And where can wisdom be found?

Wisdom is found in the fear of the Lord
And understanding those who depart from evil
Wisdom can be found in the fear of the Lord
And understanding those who depart from evil

My apologies to the Counting Crows and Dolorean for probably misinterpreting their songs. Anyway, I think that the "Wisdom is found in the fear of the Lord" line from Proverbs and sung by Dolorean was a life preserver for me whenever I felt like "the world begins to disappear," as the Counting Crows put it.

Matt Stewart

Gabe ist Aufgabe

2004-11-24T11:52:00.000-05:00

There is no doubt that we have been given gifts. While the extent, number and power of those gifts might vary, the gift is still present in every person. However, rarely do we think of gifts as responsibilities. We view our gifts in the same light that we view presents, and this is rejecting the biblical notion of a gift.

Since the holiday season officially starts two days from now – and unofficially started two months ago – we as consumer Americans (and maybe even consumer Canadians) are surrounded by the “gifts” that we should be giving to others. We can give them pictures to sit on their desks or gift certificates to buy more stuff or toys to play with if we feel like it, but nothing is required of us. Once it is ours we can do whatever we want. There is rarely a requirement given with the gift – other than a gift in return.

Chalk another one up in the loss column for America. Big surprise we’ve construed another idea to our selfish nature. Several parables taught by Jesus illustrate the point of return for the gift. The most obvious in my mind is that of the talents. The master gives out talents and comes back expecting return on his investment. No one’s ever come to me expecting that I doubled what I got for Christmas last year.

I’m not out to bash Christmas and gift giving, because I like it too. However, the idea of what it means to receive a gift has been tainted. Klaas Schilder points this out wonderfully stating, “election means calling, privilege implies task. ‘to may’ is ‘to must’…Gabe ist Aufgabe,” or, “Gift is Task.” We have all been given something incredible, the least of which isn’t salvation. And we’re expected to do something with these gifts.

The point isn’t to tell you what to do, but the point is to tell you to do something. Different gifts require different tasks. I’m not out to say that salvation isn’t a free gift. However, once we have the gift we are do something with it. Just as the servant who returns to the master empty handed is scolded, we too shall be held accountable for what we are given; whether it is much or whether it is little.

In this season of giving and expecting to receive, don’t forget what you have already been given and what you are obligated to do it response. Our gift gives is our task, and we should rejoice in this for both the gift and the task.

Chris Carson

Christian education and theology in the core

2004-11-18T14:36:00.000-05:00

The other night my roommates and I had a debate for the umpteenth time about how to make Geneva a better college campus. This specific one focused on teaching Reformed theology as a core class, whether or not it should happen, and if so, at what point during a student’s four years here. Our opinions varied.

My premise was that at some point at Geneva, students should hear the basic tenets of Christian and Reformed theology, things like the inerrancy of Scripture, the order of salvation, TULIP, and the Regulative Principle of worship, not because everyone has to agree with them—I’m not saying that at all—but simply because Geneva believes these things and it’ll make a student’s stay here that much more profitable if they understand why things are done the way they are. (Plus they can never be bad things to think about.)

To Geneva students: Don’t most of you wonder why chapel is the way it is, for example (an example I hesitate to use because chapel is certainly not what Reformed theology is all about)? Wouldn’t you love to hear a good reason for it? Well here ya go.

It’s my impression that students are never given this explanation, or a good overview of what it means to be Reformed. At some point we’re expected to pick it up on our own I guess, which is fine for RPs, PCAs and OPCs, but what about a non-Christian or a new Christian who has never heard this stuff before? When does Geneva lay out the reasons for why they believe what they believe—reasons I find to make sense, but reasons you can’t understand, let alone agree with, if you’ve never heard.

I can’t speak to this real well because I took Bible 151 and 152 over 112 and 113, but I hear you don’t get a lot of that in those survey classes (which I guess is why it’s a survey class), it’s more memorizing kings and one lecture on predestination that makes everybody really mad. Survey is a good place to start, but not enough on its own. Sending your child to Sunday School is great, but eventually they have to hear some sermons.

In fact, thinking back on my seven semesters here thus far, I haven’t really heard a lot of anything about Reformed theology actually in my classes. Things are taught from a Reformed perspective, but how does that make sense if you have no idea what Reformed is? Bible 300 focuses on one part of it, but where’s the broader picture?

My argument for a theology-driven class made total sense to myself and I wondered why there isn’t one. It would seem to benefit everyone involved. But my roommate offered a good piece of insight: Geneva is pretty unique among Christian schools. A student hearing what their college believes is kind of a rare thing, I guess—a fact that boggles my mind. Apparently when people come to even a Christian school, doctrine is the last thing they expect to hear.

Three questions came to my mind at this point. Why is this so? Is this a good thing? And is it bad that Geneva isn’t following the crowd? The last two answers are easy: No and no. Colleges should profess what they believe (if I went to St. Wherever I would expect to hear Catholic theology… I would hope to, etc.) and I am very glad Geneva is breaking the norm on this one. It would take a whole series of articles for me to explain fully why. (Read the Foundational Concepts of Christian Education for starters.)

The other question though, the “why is this so” thing, is a little harder… or maybe it isn’t.

I’ll admit that I’ve known Reformed theology for a while now, at least since 8th grade when I took a Sunday School class on the Westminster Confession. We were new members of a PCA church and I was eating the stuff up. It just made so much sense to me. It’s always made sense to me that a church would teach doctrine.

Likewise, I graduated from Beaver County Christian School after transferring there from North Allegheny High School after my freshman year. I made the conscious decision to switch schools because I recognized that schools, like churches, teach what they believe, and I wanted to learn from a Christian perspective. BCCS pushed me further along my Reformational educational journey.

So why am I in the minority thinking that this whole teaching what you believe thing makes sense? First, because a lot of Christian schools don’t do that, and second, because neither do a lot of churches. If doctrine isn’t being preached so to not offend or divide, this is a bad thing. The Bible is true and Christians must work out what they believe. We must always be prepared to give an answer, and we do this by meditating on the Word both day and night. We should teach it to our children and learn it from our parents. If this isn’t being done than we aren’t following the teachings of Christ. Plain and simple. This should happen from the pulpit as well as in our own reading of Scripture.

However, many churches today preach empty sermons and sing empty songs. They pray empty prayers and produce empty Christians, filled with nothing more than words like “Jesus” and “love,” with nothing more to build a life around. Certainly these ideas are important at first, but the Bible teaches that once we are accustomed to milk we must move on to solid food.

Also, many Christian schools and teachers try to leave out what they believe when they teach. I can see why this might make sense if you’re teaching 3rd graders from a range of denominational backgrounds, but college students ought to be able to hear something and test it against Scripture without getting all riled up.

I have no idea if this is why Geneva doesn’t have a theology class in the core, but it’s certainly why it wouldn’t be well received if there were. I don’t think becoming educated in doctrine is the purpose or end of a Christian, but I do think it is a good thing to become sure of—to know what you believe and why you believe it.

And to fully do this, churches and Christian schools must teach! (If you can’t say what your church believes, than I think you need to find a new church—or pay more attention. Does this apply to your school, too? It does if we live our lives as seven-day-a-week Christians.)

We, as Christians, must be willing to listen and discern what is true and what is not. If students come through Geneva, hear about Reformed theology, understand it, and disagree, then the school has done its job. That’s all it can ask. But if students are not willing to engage the ideas held by this college, than we are holding ourselves back from knowing better what we believe and why we believe it—whether or not we believe Reformed ideas.

I’ll admit I put a lot of faith in Christian education. If it was up to me, government schools would soon be a thing of the past. But it’s not up to me—in America’s public schooling system or here at Geneva. And as much as I like to hope people will read this and agree with me—they won’t. But for any of you who have at least made it this far, my plea is this: always be willing to test what you believe and to test something new or different. Don’t give in to worldly ideas—there is truth out there. And it’s our calling to find it.

Jon Dodd

10 years of "Mulletude"

2004-11-11T23:19:00.000-05:00

10 years ago today I became a big brother. That in itself is a pretty amazing thing. I really couldn’t imagine my life without my little sister. Not because we’ve always been good friends, and because she’s never gotten on my nerves. That’s not even to say that I’ve never been a complete jerk to her, because I’ve definitely done that many times, and I’m sure many more times are in store.

There’s just something amazing about having someone that much younger than you looking up to you. We even have nicknames for each other. She’s a, “Mullet” and I’m a, “Snot-rocket” (I came up with the last one too, but she stole it from me). I remember the first time she said, “Shut-up!” Not because I thought it was funny, but because I felt so guilty. I knew she only knew it because I had said it around her.

I see her going through what I went through as a kid and remember how tough it was, and she hasn’t even hit the toughest times yet. The sad part is she’s way cooler than I ever was. Now she’s just starting to say she likes other boys, and it’s ticking me off. I’m dead serious if some kid breaks her little heart I’m going to hurt him.

I could go on forever about what it means to me to be a brother, and to have a little sister that I love so much and that loves me so much, but that’s not the point of this at all. See my little sister is somewhat unique because she was adopted. She’s also biracial (her dad was African-American and her mom was Caucasian). 10 years ago today she officially became my little sister.

I guess that’s made me think about adoption a lot. In itself it is a pretty amazing concept. First, that someone would be willing to give up their child; and second, because someone else is willing to pay a lot of money to get her. I would assume that this would blow the mind of some people in today’s society. But it’s normal for me. My best friend’s parents adopted a girl. My aunt and uncle have adopted three Vietnamese kids. My pastor and another woman from my church are about to adopt children from different countries, and I’m sure there are plenty of other’s that I am forgetting.

One could truthfully say that I’m surrounded by adoption. I think that’s why the notion of being adopted into the “family” of God is such a great illustration to me. Kate did nothing to get adopted. It was all the graciousness of my parents. They decided they that they could take on another kid (I know that sounds harsh, but I don’t mean it to) and so they went to all the work to get her. They spent thousands of dollars, countless hours in prayer, and tons of time filling out paper work to get her. I know if you ask them they would say it was well worth what they gave.

Now I really don’t think of Kate as being adopted. Sure I remember well the day that we did adopt her. I thought I was so cool because I got to hold to video camera. She’s part of the family now. It kills me when people tell my dad how much she looks like him, and I think that’s fitting. She is a part of our family. Someday she might want to find out who her real parents are, and my parents will be willing to help her. They’ve told her repeatedly, and I think she has a grasp of the fact that she adopted. She knows she’s special, and she definitely rubs it in my face.

God was willing to give a great sacrifice for us not because of anything that we did. He loved us when we were still dead in sin, and continues to love us. I guess this is getting pretty sappy; so I’ll stop soon. I love my little sister and this for her, but it also just amazes me to think of God’s continuing love for us. We’re part of the family, and I bet he doesn’t even think about us being something other than that too often.

Chris Carson (proud brother)

The Winter Beard

2004-11-09T23:15:00.000-05:00

The very phrase brings a sense of pride to some and makes others cringe. Something that is near and dear to every man's heart and yet something our women counterparts seldom seem to understand.

For me and for most men, a Winter Beard is a sign of strength, a source of warmth and a way to prove that you are manlier than men without facial hair.

My guess is that for women they are scary, and that is because they are. A man's facial hair is like a lion's mane or a bear's claws, they are scary and without them we feel naked.

Let me explain the Winter Beard idea. Though its roots go back to Biblical times (see John Calvin) when all men had beards and long hair was strength, it started again my freshman year in Memorial Hall when a few guys decided that they would denounce razors from Thanksgiving to Christmas, and for some, beyond.

Because beards have been grown by men since men existed, the Winter Beard idea has caught on quickly over the past few years and spread just as fast. Though many will claim that it was their idea for the Winter Beard, this is simply not so. Men without Winter Beards feel ashamed; men with them know they are superior.

Technically, a Winter Beard is not necessarily a beard. Though in essence it should be, the Winter Beard is merely some part of your face a man chooses not to shave to prove he is a man and to stay warm.

Another reason why the Winter Beard is great is that it is something good that happens when you do nothing. Typically I have found that either nothing or something bad happens when you do nothing, however, it is not like that with the Winter Beard. The longer you do nothing the better it gets. It takes absolutely no work or drive, instead it takes less, making it the perfect thing for a man to do during the end of a semester.

The only work it does take is to convince the womenfolk that it must stay until Christmas and maybe beyond, and convincing a woman of anything is very hard work. This is why many men with Winter Beards have no women. They choose their Beard over a woman, and this is an admirable choice.

There are also many choices you must make when sculpting your Winter Beard. Some choose the full beard and they are the highest of the Winter Beard growers. Other must shave their neck due to itchiness. Others choose goatees, others chinstraps. Some try for the fu man chu and many talk of the infamous neckbeard but few follow through on it.

The purpose of this piece is to spread awareness of the Winter Beard, both to men and women, so that men can choose greatness and women can respect them for it.

Look for the Winter Beard, recognize it and know that the man wearing it is a man of honor.

Jon Dodd

If I were a good writer...

2004-11-09T16:23:00.000-05:00

If I were a good writer, I think I might have written this article by Dr. Eric Miller instead of my rant about a bumper sticker.

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/pp/04311/407502.stm

Chris Carson

Call me a fundamentalist, but...

2004-11-09T14:29:00.000-05:00

Usually people say gambling is morally wrong because it is a misuse of resources God has given us, or something to that effect. I'm wondering if poker would be morally wrong because it is essentially a game that is based on one's ability to be deceitful. Maybe this isn't a new revelation to anyone but me, but I can't remember this being an issue whenever people say poker is morally wrong. This could also apply to the cult college game Mafia. I remember loving it at school, but then teaching it to kids at camp and then feeling a little uneasy about it. "Yeah, normally lying is a strike, but for this game it's okay," sounds a little weird.

I thought about this because I remember being really angry when I watched the Survivor Allstars Finale and heard Boston Rob justifying his lying, deceitful, Godfather-type moves in the game by saying he wasn't making anything personal, he was just playing to win. I was thinking about how he was making a game out of people's feelings, and that if he had done that to me in Survivor, I wouldn't have been too willing to start a business with him. And what about Amber of Beaver Falls fame? You would have to think that if he can lie and manipulate a whole group of people on an island he could lie and manipulate her when they were married. The sad thing to me was that everyone cheered when he said he was playing to win. Is this really "winning?"

I read an article on the New Pantagruel by Dr. John Fea about Dr. Seuss which took the underlying messages of Dr. Seuss seriously for the "unfettered individualist" values they impart between the lines, or actually pretty explicitly. There is also a book by Tom Englehardt called The End of Victory Culture that made connections between the United States' view of itself during the Cold War era and the changes in G.I Joe, among other things. It became almost too obvious how much what kids play with is what grown-ups do for real (or in Survivor, what grown-ups play with) are very much attached after reading Dr. Fea and Tom Englehardt.

Can anything we do really be just a game?

Matt Stewart

Calvin Seerveld interview

2004-11-07T16:37:00.000-05:00

Calvin Seerveld came to Geneva about two weeks ago and spoke about a Christian view of art, the fact that we don't have a soul, and the Psalms. He is a well-loved and respected aesthetician, has published many books and articles, worked as a professor, and is a very kind man. Here are some of his thoughts on various topics, and look for more once I finish typing the rest of this out.

Matt Stewart: In reading your autobiographical vignettes, I was interested that it looks like you didn’t really start studying philosophical ideas and English until you got into college. How did you enter the discipline? Did you ever feel like it was too late at the time?

Calvin Seerveld: I was a good student in high school, but especially in math and science, and so all my high school teachers thought I’d go on in math, and it was a secular high school. And what they really were teaching me I think was, “You go on in math, you’re good at it...you go on and get a Ph.D. at Columbia maybe and then get a job at IBM and you’ll be set for life.” That’s what they taught me in between the lines. So I went to Calvin College, which was Christian, and I took math—because that’s what I was good at—and I also took English. I was interested maybe in the ministry so I took Greek, and the regular core type courses. You hear stories about “oh yeah, that’s a good prof, this is a good prof,” and it turns out that’s why I went into philosophy and English literature. My best profs were in philosophy and English literature, so you go where things are most interesting. I also went on in languages, too, and my good English professor had told me, “Keep up the languages,” so you don’t just get the alphabet but you start to read the literature of the languages. So I did that with French and with German, and then Latin and Greek, and that helped a lot in going on in philosophy, because I had met this professor Runner my last year at Calvin College—his first year there, in which he told me about this place where you could study Christian philosophy that was radical, and that was at the University of Amsterdam.

I first went on to the University of Michigan, because I had a scholarship there and I needed that money. I went the whole year—I got a scholarship I think for $1200—it cost me $300 a month. I lived very cheaply in the dorm and paid my tuition. And that was...before you were born! [laughs]

I like to study, I like to read, I was interested in literature, and my best profs were in English lit. and philosophy, so that’s the way it kind of normally went.

MS: Sometimes theorists and intellectuals get bashed for not being “the man in the arena,” but for dealing with ideals. What role does the theorist or intellectual have in society? How do you counter those arguments? You’ve actually done a lot in both ways, but how would you respond?

CS: I think a lot of intellectuals who do the ivory tower-type thing are wrong if they’re trying to serve the Lord in this world. However, it’s legitimate I think for people who are theorists to put their 40-60 hours into theory-doing. But two things should happen: one is, the theory ought to be in the real world, so it’s not some kind of utopian thing where you spin out theories of what is wonderful without being aware.

If you teach philosophy, you better make somebody wise about things for living. Otherwise, what good is it? But, to help people think with a perspective that encompasses God’s whole world is worth doing. And it may not seem as practical as getting a house built or painted, but to get people a theoretical understanding of how God’s world fits together and how the authority of a church, and of a labor union, and of a school, and of a government should be limited, should be different, but still support one another—to get that kind of a theory developed is an important product, if you will, for a theorist to do that shows the theory is not out of this world but it’s in this world.

And the second thing is I think it’s important for a theorist not just to do theory. And it’d be pretty hard to do, unless I guess you were an unmarried hermit and had your food brought into you. So that if you’re married, you’d better pay attention that you’re a husband or a wife, and if you’re a father or a mother, well, you can’t just do your theory.

Even though theory is legitimately someone’s main occupation, you’re a human and not a theorist by definition. So the theory has to be in God’s world; that means in touch with what’s going on and also with the bad that’s going on.

But see, like Gideon’s [Strauss, see earlier post] task is really like a fine theory. When he gives a theoretical vision in world and life view terms to people who are going to be fighting in a union for just wages for their labor union members, and yet not to be out to kill the employer but co-determinatively work with the employer for what’s just for the employer and for the worker.

Now that’s different for a theorist who works in the classroom who has to somehow really pull all the students who are there together to think about things—in some ways, before you have to get out there and fight for it—which gives you a little leeway to make bad theoretical answers to things. So when students say, “This is what ought to be done,” and it it’s the wrong answer, at least you only made it in the classroom, not in the labor unions. And so in some ways theory is a bit protected from having to have to immediately say “that’s what we’re going to do.” And that’s a good thing as long as you don’t just keep it that way, you know?

MS: In one lecture you spoke about the idea that certain architecture didn’t really project a Christian sensibility. This might be unfair since you’ve only been here a couple days, but what does the architecture/artwork at Geneva display? How can we do better and what should we fight to keep?

CS: I’d rather put it in terms of what should one move towards. I think the woodwork everywhere is very fine. It’s done by a craftsman, I think, and the Student Center thing—it’s upstairs...there’s a lot more wood there…I know there’s a plastic floor and carpet is warmer, but it’s harder to clean usually.

There’s all those features in there, and see it’s a mixture of architectural styles. And there’s old buildings, new buildings, and one is always caught too by how much money you have to make a building. Calvin College, for instance, with its common brick is very beautiful, and there’s a unity to it because it was all brand new.

Here you work with old things, and I think that’s fine—Old Main—inside there too, the wood is warm. Even here the table is wood; it’s not chrome. To me that’s a positive, human-oriented, good decision to have wood chairs instead of metal chairs. Now the art—I haven’t seen too much—I just saw three things in the library which are abstract, which is fine. I think they’re not great works of art, but you shouldn’t expect that if local people are doing things which are responsible. It’d be great to see more art; I haven’t been able to look enough at what is hanging, but the things I’ve seen in offices, for example, have been tasteful and good.

I certainly wouldn’t tear down any of the old buildings. They have a place here—I thought too, the landscaping of grounds here is quite wonderful; it’s not all flat, and in fact keeps some of the faculty more fit too when they have to walk up and down. Over in Old Main there, some of the offices are on third floor, and the toilets are in the basement. Okay, you gotta go all the way up and down. I asked them, what are you going to do when you get old? There’s no elevator here [Laughs].

So I think the view—the balcony in the Student Center is spectacular. That’s very well done. You could have been pragmatic—could have said that costs money, we don’t want to do that—but the fact that you’ve done it, I mean a balcony like that where you can sit out there? Your chairs, under awnings outside Old Main there in the sun—in this kind of weather, that’s just wonderful. That’s part of aesthetic normativity for me, when you make the buildings and the grounds habitable for people that like to be and sit and talk and interact with one another.

So I’m not critical that there’s no Picasso on the wall. Who cares? If it’s local talent, and you change things around every year or two...one thing you could do is have a wall here where each graduating class could paint a mural. And then the next year they whitewash it and the next class paints a mural—highlighting “the important things of your year” type of thing. That would be a way to give the art professor an occasion to help people who are not art majors, maybe, or give the art major something to do that ties in with the student body. It’s not permanent, but it’s there for a year which is quite a bit of time to have to look at something. Some will be better than others. But that would be a way to engage students in doing some artwork which would develop a sensitivity that art is part of our ordinary lives. You know, you go for a coffee up there and say “eh, I don’t like it” or “yeah, it’s not bad,” you see, that type of thing.
I don’t know how many new buildings you’re going to build. It’s pretty built up, isn’t it?

MS: Yeah, there’s not much room toward the river…

CS: Exactly. I felt at home. I sat outside Old Main, walked around with my wife a bit, up and down. And the wood is what struck me as being wholesome.

It maybe needs more attention, the art-doing. The RP tradition probably is not so strong on art; and one way to bring it into the tradition—I thought the singing by New Song was just musically first-rate. I thought it was very very good. And they did it not in an elitist way but in a servant way. I felt very good about that. The language was still a bit archaic, but not as archaic as in the songbook, which I find too archaic and should really be updated I think. That would be one important thing. It’s not under your control as the students; the church needs to say “look, we need Psalmody which is current language,” I think. But the performance of New Song—that was first-rate.

I Just Want A Bumper Sticker

2004-11-03T00:29:00.000-05:00

I think disenchanted sums up my feelings at the present moment. I’ve been waiting to vote in a presidential election since I was eight. I thought it would be better than this. I remember Bush Sr. getting booted, Dole getting his butt kicked and staying up all night even though I had school the next day to who would win the “closest” election in modern American history.

As I walked out of the polls today, I wanted to cry. I guess I am a rather emotional person and my life isn’t how I want it to be at all right now, but I think this was mostly because of my disenchantment. I thought I would feel an overwhelming sense of civic pride, but I felt cheated.

Last night I had around twelve people trying to convince me that I should go vote, and more specifically go vote for George W. Bush. I didn’t want to though. I wanted to vote for Nader or maybe even my dad, but there was no way I wanted to cast my first presidential vote ever for the Texas tiger.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted to have a bumper sticker on my car. I wanted to be the one trying to convince people of whom they should vote for. I wanted to wear pins, and t-shirts. I even wanted to try to volunteer for the campaign. But when I saw the candidates, I wanted to move to Canada.

I’m sitting here with my friends, and we’ve been watching the election coverage for the last 4 and half hours (I know we aren’t normal college kids. We also watched all three debates) and I just want this to end. If this goes to court, which it probably will, Canada here I come.

For those of you who have been wondering the whole time who I ended up voting for, it was George W. Bush, but don’t think I’m proud of that. If I could change my vote right now, since John Kerry killed the incumbent here, Douglas Carson would have been my vote. I’ve actually found myself cheering for Bush, but just because of how much I think John Kerry could screw up.

I don’t know how to sum up how I feel right now other than my aforementioned disenchantment. This just doesn’t seem right. I hope there will never be an election like this again. There needs to be a huge change in America, and I hope this is the beginning of it. I hope I’m not the only disenfranchised one, and I think I’m not. I want someone I can feel good about voting for. I just want to be able to put a bumper sticker on my car.

Chris Carson

Reflection on the Prodigal Son, Pride, and Psalm 102

2004-11-03T00:14:00.000-05:00

I heard a sermon this Sunday on the Prodigal Son that focused specifically on the older brother. The older brother felt as though his rights were violated—that his good was going unnoticed and that the evil were being rewarded as he toiled away at his duty. As the oldest of six, I am definitely an older brother in the actual and figurative sense in light of this parable. The times in my life where I have been the most angry were times where people accused me of doing wrong or let people that had wronged me (at least so I felt) go unpunished. I like to think I care about justice being done, that I have the right to think along the lines of the imprecatory Psalms that ask God to smite enemies, but I think I know deep down that it is really Pride, that I am ticked off because I have been snubbed and I deserve a little more.

This is probably why C.S. Lewis’ chapter on “The Great Sin” was one of the most illuminating and convicting parts of any book I’ve ever read. This is probably one of the truths of Scripture I have the greatest conviction on. In the past, I have been assailed with doubts about issues involving biblical interpretation or whether I am just a Christian because of my sociological and psychological temperaments, or the idea of evil and predestination. But ever since I saw firsthand the effects of Pride and its utter futility, I have been convinced of the truth that God’s glory is the only glory that man can seek and find fulfillment in.

I sang Psalm 102A from the Book of Psalms for Singing on Sunday, and this Psalm drives home this point in a “between the lines” type of way. For anyone unfamiliar with this Psalm from the Reformed Presbyterian Psalter, it is a beautifully simple setting, and perfect for the words of the Psalm. When sung in a church with favorable acoustics it is as good as music gets. This is the last verse, my favorite and the best illustration of what I’m talking about:

An ev’ning shadow are my days;
Like grass I wither soon away.
But you Jehovah, sit enthroned
Forever your memorial
Abides through generations all.

In my understanding of it, this Psalm shows me that, if I try to live a proud life, I am nothing. It is utterly futile—“an ev’ning shadow are my days.” But God’s glory goes on forever and is eternally meaningful. This is comforting when I see that I have failed once again to keep my Pride in check, when once again I realize what my true motivations for doing something were diabolical rather than God-honoring. The Psalm internalizes the idea that even in my own most devastating personal failures, I can still trust that His “memorial abides through generations all,” and find a somber, abiding joy.

Matt Stewart

Gideon Strauss interview

2004-10-30T23:52:00.000-05:00

Gideon Strauss was the keynote speaker at the third annual thInking Faith conference held at Geneva College on October 23. thInking Faith—originally the brainchild of Geneva graduates Keith Martel and Scott Calgaro, and Hearts and Minds Bookstore Owner Byron Borger—was founded as a way to encourage and instruct students to write academically solid papers through a lens thoroughly rooted in a biblical worldview.

Gideon Strauss is currently Senior Fellow at the Work Research Foundation and editor of Comment, a “monthly journal that works through the issues of human dignity, poverty, and justice—all from the perspective of a Christian worldview,” according to a description from www.wrf.ca. Strauss was a conscientious objector to the injustice of apartheid in South Africa, a decision for which he served three years of a six-year community service sentence. Access his blog site here. This interview was originally printed in Geneva College’s The Cabinet.

Matt Stewart: I thought it was pretty interesting how you were talking about the idea of a Christian college revival. Would you want to summarize Keith Martel’s argument and expound on it, and talk about what it would look like at Geneva?

Gideon Strauss: First of all, I think that you need to quote Keith, and see what Keith says, and link people to his blog. That is important.

[This is an excerpt from Geneva graduate Keith Martel’s blog entry from Wednesday October 20.] “The problem for me in the accounts that I have read is that the revival consisted of a wildly irregular occurrence of the "spiritual." The abnormal occurrence of nightlong prayer, healing, confession, and a diligent pursuit of the spiritual disciplines. I must say that all of these things are exciting, and should be sought after. The problem it seems that the accounts of revival had very little to have to do with the academy. If revival, as Finney writes, consists in obeying God, then college revival, it seems to me at this moment, would consist of some of the aforementioned aspects, but the major direction of the college revival should be distinctly marked by a wild pursuit of living fully as a student. I desire a revival on our college campuses, but this revival would perhaps look a bit different. To wake up and live on the college campus (seems to) necessitate the marks of Christian students, faculty and staff wildly pursuing life in the university together. It would consist of students taking their studies serious in a transformational way; it would consist of faculty members seeing their teaching as a holy calling from the Lord of education himself. Perhaps, instead of skipping classes to take part in prayer meetings, students might even skip their fellowship groups to create and craft seriously scholarly work that exemplifies the kingdom.”

I think what Keith is basically saying and I completely agree with him, is that we need a campus revival in this generation. And that has to do with a more thoroughgoing commitment by college students to Jesus. And then he asks, okay, what does that look like, compares it to campus revivals that took place in the mid-90’s at Wheaton College and other places where students would pray through the night, read the Bible—very serious about their commitment to Jesus and what that might mean, and he says that’s a good thing. But then he asks, what does that mean if you have a college revival?

So it’s not just a generic revival that leads to more praying, more Bible reading—which is desperately needed—but that also asks, if we are completely dedicated, we are making a living sacrifice of our bodies, our whole selves, if you will, to God—what does that mean on a college campus? And he says it has to have a close connection to the renewal of the mind, it has to have implications for how we do what we’re called to do at college. So it has to have implications for our scholarship, for our academic life as students. And then he tries to work out what that might look like, what does a campus renewal, a college revival look like when it is appropriate to the specific context of academic life?

MS: Your blog references neocalvinism frequently [the blog is billed as “worldview revivalism, neocalvinist unapologetics, zeitgeist surfing,” and there are links to writers who are “the next neocalvinism”]—where do you see Christian scholarship in the next ten years, particularly with regard to neocalvinism?

GS: I have to emphasize that what I’m advocating, what I want to see is academic revival, if you will. As far as I’m concerned, that means scholarship that is more thoroughly rooted in the Gospel, more deeply informed on what the Bible teaches, more brightly brought alive by the work and the presence of the Holy Spirit. As far as I’m concerned, you can’t squeeze such a revival, you can’t squeeze the work of the Holy Spirit into a box. And if the Holy Spirit works and brings academic revival in our time, it’s not going to be limited to something like neocalvinism. So I’m just saying that as a first precautionary thing.

The Spirit blows where the Spirit pleases, and I am convinced if we have revival, if God wills it, we’ll bring about wonderful, biblically-informed, Jesus-committed, Spirit-moved scholarship in all kinds of traditions, and—I don’t know where you’re coming from—but I would say we would see astounding Catholic scholarship, astounding Anabaptist scholarship, astounding Methodist scholarship, astounding Calvinist scholarship.

Now I will argue that when the Spirit moves, whenever the Spirit moves it is in ways that are consistent with what God has been doing historically. And so God brings surprising revivals, he does new things under the sun that nonetheless connect with what we see in the Bible, and connect with what we see the Spirit as having done historically—so we have these connections. Which is why, when we see renewals—academic renewals, for instance—they draw on resources that came before.

So, for example, in the 15th, 16th, 17th, century we had a revival in the Christian church at large that we refer to as the Reformation. So what happened is that the Spirit moved, woke people up to what the Scriptures taught, which drew people to renewed commitment to God in Jesus by grace through faith. That had close connections to what happened academically. People like Luther and Calvin, Zwingli, Knox—various leaders in the Reformation—were revivalists in the sense that they were instruments of the Holy Spirit to bring people to new life, to awaken people to Christ, but they were academics.

They were legal scholars, they were theological scholars, they were philosophical scholars, and they had pulled themselves into the study of the Bible, but also in the study of those scholarly texts which were being rediscovered in the context of the Renaissance. So they were reading Plato anew, they were reading all kinds of classical scholars anew.

And in the case of John Calvin, which is the example I know best, the work of the spirit in the life of John Calvin took him back to the work of Augustine and John Chrysostom. So that yes, this was a revival, a scholarly revival, a study of the Scriptures, but it recuperated work that had been lost—the work of Augustine and John Chrysostom, preceding biblical scholars. When in my tradition we see a revival again like that is in the late 19th century in the Netherlands, where Abraham Kuyper, mentored by Groen van Prinsterer, and other people reimmersed themselves in the study of the Scriptures, but again recovered what had been done by Calvin, recovered what had been done by Augustine.

So you have a new Calvinism that is nonetheless a vehicle that God uses for a contemporary revival through the work of the Holy Spirit. So, yes, the Spirit works in surprising ways, but always the Spirit allows us to recover the good work that has been done by previous generations. So my guess is we’re sitting in a moment of potential Holy Spirit-sparked revival in scholarship among students and faculty. My guess is that it will draw on preceding traditions, and among evangelicals the “best” tradition, if you will, that we have is the neocalvinist tradition. It’s the tradition that shapes the Coalition for Christian Outreach, it’s the tradition that shaped the scholarship in various different ways of people like Mark Noll the historian, Alvin Plantinga and Nicholas Wolterstorff the philosophers—that is behind a kind of a calvinism “lite,” if you will, in generic evangelical scholarship.

So in Books and Culture, for instance, you have all kinds of voices, but the underlying notion that Jesus is the Lord of all of life, which is articulated I think most distinctively in the neocalvinist tradition in our time. So, over the next ten years I think a new generation of young people guided by the Holy Spirit will pick up the legacy of neocalvinism. My guess is that they will interact with other young people who under the guidance of the Holy Spirit pick up Anabaptist strengths, pick up Roman Catholic strengths—and I think those are going to be the interesting conversations.

The traditional Stanley Hauerwas in an Anabaptist sense, the tradition of neocalvinism mediated in various ways, and the tradition of Catholic social thought in particular I think will, in a fruitful and rich interaction, an argument if you will, serve to bring the gifts of God into the service of the public good in our communities.

That is what I think. This is theory; I am not an anointed prophet of God. [Laughs]

MS: [Laughs] That’s a good disclaimer.

Pro Christo et Patria

2004-10-27T23:46:00.000-05:00

In the early days of Geneva College someone was either assigned the task or had the brilliant idea of making a motto for the college. I’m not talking about, “Your life, make it new” or “Wholehearted.” What I’m referring to is the Latin you might have seen on several places around campus: Pro Christo et Patria. For Christ and Country. Sometimes it is hard to think of anything radical happening at Geneva. I’m not bashing the school by any means, but most people just don’t seem to care. The thought of having a radical motto and radical ideas being at the forefront of the creation of the college might seem a bit farfetched.

However, this is the history of the college. Founded in Northwood, Ohio, Geneva College was an actual “stop” on the Underground Railroad. Students would hide runaway slaves in the buildings on campus and then take them as far north as they could in the back of wagons. The risk involved was great, and yet students, faculty, and staff were all willing to take a risk for what they believed was right.

The idea of doing things, “For Christ and Country” should now be seen in a new light. At one time Geneva was at the forefront of the abolitionist movement. You don’t see things of that kind happening on this campus anymore, and the question this article asks is simply, “why not?”

The theologian Abraham Kuyper was adamant about the idea of religion as a life-system or worldview. He claimed that religion was not partial but all-encompassing. Religion should not simply be confined to feelings and will, but it should take over all of our lives. It should affect everything we do. As Christians we are called to build strong worldviews that allow us to see every aspect of life in the light of Christianity. We cannot separate our lives, our vocation, our religion, the arts, politics or even culture. Everything must be viewed from our all-encompassing life-system that allows us to interpret the world and figure out how to redeem it for Christ.

Now is the time for us to create this life-system. Steven Garber in his book The Fabric of Faithfulness states, “The college years need to help students develop ways of thinking and living that are coherent, that make sense of the way of life. It is the difference between a worldview which brings integration to the whole of one’s existence and one which brings disintegration.” Our basic underlying presuppositions and beliefs must be either secured or changed.

Christ speaks of this transformation in the Lukan theme of the wineskins. In Luke 5:33-39, Christ says, “no one pours new wine into old wine skins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins.” Here Christ is calling the Jews to a paradigm shift or worldview change and I believe this is applicable to us today. As we learn from lectures or discussions or books we must be putting the wine into new wineskins. We cannot expect to be learning new aspects of life and trying to fit them into our old framework. It won’t make any sense to us and either we’ll dismiss what we learn or we’ll dismiss our framework.

For Geneva to get back to a radical ideals alluded to in our motto students, faculty and staff must be willing to create an all-encompassing life-system or worldview and be constantly renewing it when we are learning so that we can interpret what is happening in our society and the world. The foundational concepts of the college show that this is part of the purpose of Christian education: “The goal of Christian education is the development of mature students who, as individuals, have well-integrated personalities; and who, as well-oriented members of society, are building the Kingdom of God in the family, the church, the nation and the world.”

If we are willing to take this first and vital step, what should the outcome be?

Three things should happen: one we “write better papers”, two we read, and three we seek justice. The “thInking faith” conference, held last Saturday in Old Main, brought in Gideon Strauss. Strauss stressed that the writing of every paper needs to prove we are rooted in God. If we cannot even bring this to the forefront of our work here at a Christian college, how do we expect to live it in the world? Strauss noted that there is spiritual warfare surrounding us constantly even in the library. We cannot even take researching lightly. If we are naïve, we have already lost. Our papers must bring Christ and his redemptive work to the forefront. This is where our all-encompassing worldview is so vital. Even if you don’t write papers you need to find out how to work in your vocation in a distinctly Christian manner.

Strauss quoted former Geneva employee Keith Martel and his view on what a radical change on this campus might look like: “I desire a revival on our college campuses, but this revival would perhaps look a bit different. To wake up and live on the college campus (seems to) necessitate the marks of Christian students, faculty and staff wildly pursuing life in the university together. It would consist of students taking their studies seriously in a transformational way, it would consist of faculty members seeing their teaching as a holy calling from the Lord of education himself. Perhaps, instead of skipping classes to take part in prayer meetings, students might even skip their fellowship groups to create and craft serious scholarly work that exemplifies the kingdom.” It is about so much more than just writing papers, but our papers or other work shows the basis from which ideas come.

Also at this conference, Byron Borger, owner of Hearts and Minds Bookstore, stressed the need for students to read. We need to be well-versed in all aspects. We need to know our field of study and what the current issues are in that field, but we also need to know the Christian response or view. We have to constantly be updating or renewing our wineskins. Our scholarship needs to be serious enough that we’ll read not only our assignments, but also well-written books that show what a Christian is to do and believe. One cannot simply sit back and expect to know well-thought-out arguments for the Christian view of their field without reading.

Finally, we need to take into account social justice. As we are learning these things and creating our life-systems, we must account for justice. Bradshaw Frey is teaching a class this semester entitled Reconciliation: Gender, Class and Race. The goal of the class is to learn of social inequalities and learn how we can make them right. Take classes like this and learn about what is wrong with our society.

The greatest example we’ve had, at least recently, on this campus of someone who had an all-encompassing life-system, used it to write their papers and in their studies and was willing to stand up for social justice was former student Adam Amhrien. He was simply asking that the cafeteria use Fair Trade coffee. He saw how Columbian farmers were living in utter poverty because of how cheap coffee was selling for and asked that we do our part and buy coffee that gave the farmers a fair value. Adam was even willing to start a hunger strike to get his point across. People, of course, jumped to their own defense and claimed that the economics wouldn’t work and it would create unbalance in the Columbian economy. I’d love to hear you tell a poor Columbian farmer to his face that you’re going to have to pay him half as much because if you paid him more it might mess up his economy. Adam took his faith and lived what he believed. We need more Adams at this college. We need people who are willing to step up and work hard to bring the Kingdom of God into all aspects of life. We need to go back to the radicals of the early days of this college who were willing to integrate faith and America. We need to do things “pro Christo et Patria.”

Chris Carson

Sources:
Bradshaw Frey
Abraham Kuyper’s: Lectures on Calvinism
Steven Garber’s: The Fabric of Faithfulness
The Gospel of Luke
The Foundational Concepts
Gideon Strauss
Keith Martel
Byron Borger

CROATOAN

2004-10-25T23:02:00.000-05:00