Integrite FA-23

VOLUME 22 NUMBER 2

INTÉGRITÉ FALL 2023

PUBLISHED SEMIANNUALLY BY

MISSOURI BAPTIST UNIVERSITY Saint Louis, Missouri 63141-8698 www.mobap.edu/integrite

Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Editor

John J. Han, Missouri Baptist University

Editorial Review Board

Matthew Bardowell, Missouri Baptist University Todd C. Ream, Taylor University C. Clark Triplett, Missouri Baptist University

Advisory Board

Bob Agee, Oklahoma Baptist University & Union University Jane Beal, University of La Verne Eric Shane Bryan, Missouri University of Science and Technology Andy Chambers, Missouri Baptist University Arlen Dykstra, Missouri Baptist University Matthew Easter, Missouri Baptist University Lorie Watkins Massey, William Carey University Darren J. N. Middleton, Baylor University John Zheng, Mississippi Valley State University

Editorial Assistants Hannah Clark

Terrie Jacks

Webmaster Jenna Gulick

Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal (ISSN 1547-0474 and 1547-0873) is published in spring and fall by the Faith & Learning Committee and the Humanities Division of Missouri Baptist University. Published both online at https://www.mobap.edu/aboutmbu/publications/integrite/ and in print copy, the journal examines historical, philosophical, theological, cultural, and pedagogical issues related to the integration of Christian faith and higher learning. All submissions are critically reviewed for content and substance by the editor and the editorial review board; in some cases, scholars in specific fields are invited to evaluate manuscripts. The opinions expressed by individual writers in this journal are not necessarily endorsed by the editor, editorial board, or Missouri Baptist University.

SUBMISSIONS: Submissions of scholarly articles, short essays, book reviews, and poems are welcome. Send your work and your 100-125-word author bio as e-mail attachments (Microsoft Word format) to the editor, John J. Han, at john.han@mobap.edu. We accept submissions all year round. For detailed submission guidelines, see the last two pages of this journal.

SUBSCRIPTIONS & BOOKS FOR REVIEW: Intégrité subscriptions, renewals, address changes, and books for review should be mailed to John J. Han, Editor of Intégrité, Missouri Baptist University, One College Park Dr., St. Louis, Missouri 63141. Phone: (314) 392-2311/Fax: (314) 434-7596. Subscription rates: Individuals $10 per year; institutions $20 per year.

INDEXING: Intégrité is listed in the Southern Baptist Periodical Index and the Christian Periodical Index.

Volume 22, Number 2, Fall 2023 © 2023 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.

Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Volume 22

Number 2

Fall 2023

CONTENTS ARTICLES 3

The Development of Orthodox Christology and the Quest for Truth: Pedagogical Reflections Matthew C. Easter

12

The Scent of Faerie in Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi Matthew Bardowell

THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS 19

A Renewed Vision of Christian Education Aaron Lumpkin

26

Faculty Matters: Storytelling, A City on a Hill, and Striving for Excellence Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann

BOOK REVIEWS 33

Joshua S. Fullman. Voices of Iona (Resource Publications, 2022) Paulette Guerin

37

Darren J.N. Middleton. The Writer and the Cross: Interviews with Authors of Christian Historical Fiction (McFarland, 2022) Nomkita Chirunga-Cortez

40

Daniel O. Aleshire. Beyond Profession: The Next Future of Theological Education (Eerdmans, 2021) C. Clark Triplett

49

Lynn E. Swaner and Andy Wolfe. Flourishing Together: A Christian Vision for Students, Educators, and Schools (Eerdmans, 2021) C. Clark Triplett

55

Jean-Mark Sens. Angels & Visitors (Wipf & Stock, 2022) John Zheng

POEMS 57

“Lot's Wife” and “(For)Bidden” Jane Blanchard

59

“Until We Are One” and Other Poems Todd Sukany

62

“Looking Up” and Other Poems John Zheng

PHOTO ESSAY 70

The Apostle Peter in Dante’s Inferno: Photos from Israel John J. Han

81

NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS

84

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

Matthew Easter 3 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 3-11

The Development of Orthodox Christology and the Quest for Truth: Pedagogical Reflections Matthew C. Easter Introduction In AD 451, the Council of Chalcedon adopted the Chalcedonian Definition, which describes Jesus as “perfect both in deity and also in human-ness,” “actually God and actually man.”1 Jesus “is of the same reality as God as far as his deity is concerned and of the same reality as we are ourselves as far as his human-ness is concerned; thus like us in all respects, sin only excepted.” These two natures in Christ are perfectly united without confusion, division, or separation. Jesus has to be fully God and fully human in these terms for humanity to be saved, as the Definition says: “Before time began he was begotten of the Father, in respect of his deity, and now in these ‘last days,’ for us and on behalf of our salvation, this selfsame one was born of Mary the virgin, who is God-bearer in respect of his human-ness.” This precise description of the Incarnate Christ is not quoted directly from the pages of Scripture. That is, the Church did not simply lift selected verses from John, Paul, or Hebrews to create a summary of doctrine. Instead, the understanding of orthodox Christology arising from Chalcedon was the culmination of over four centuries of theological reflection, debate, and development.

In what follows, we trace the development of orthodox Christology in several Eastern Church Fathers. We will see how the Fathers eschew easy answers that favor Jesus’ humanity or divinity over the other. The truth is paradoxical: Jesus must be both fully human and fully divine if humans hope to share in the divine nature. The quest for an orthodox Christology reveals three aspects of truth that we can apply to the classroom: truth is (1) important, (2) interconnected, and (3) paradoxical.

The Development of Orthodox Christology in Selected Eastern Church Fathers While most Protestant churches have adopted the Reformers’ “Justification by Faith” language to express their understanding of salvation, divinization (or theosis) was a prevailing soteriological conviction of the early church. Generally speaking, “The heart of divinization lies in the transformation of human character into that self-

4 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal giving love which is moral and spiritual likeness to God” (Wainwright, 61).

Second Peter 1:4 gives hope of “becoming partakers in the divine nature,” and the champions of orthodox Christology in the East insist that this hope can only be realized if Christ is both fully God and fully human, as the Definition of Chalcedon later puts it. As Athanasius famously says, “For he was made man that we might be made God” (Athanasius, “On the Incarnation,” 107). The soteriological concern that “we might be made God” (theosis) is only possible if “he was made man” (orthodox Christology). The Second Person of the Trinity became human so that humans can become like God. Tracing the Christology of early Eastern theologians before Chalcedon shows how they refused easy explanations of Jesus in their pursuit of a fully human and divine Christ who gives humans hope of sharing in the divine nature.

Irenaeus (Late 2nd Century) Irenaeus is the church’s voice against Gnosticism. Gnosticism was a diverse movement, but in general Gnostics believed that the material world was created by an imperfect being who was not the real God. 2 The material world, having been created by a lesser being, was not true reality, but a defective shadow of a greater reality above this one. Gnostics taught that Jesus came to earth without taking on human flesh to share the secret about the material world with his disciples. He was fully God, but only appeared to be human, since God would not inhabit a defective material body created by a lesser being.

For Irenaeus, this docetic Jesus of Gnosticism is unable to save humanity. Jesus cannot merely appear to be human; he must be human like us. Irenaeus argued that the second Adam must be like the first to redeem humanity. If humans hope to “receive imperishability and immortality,” imperishability and immortality must have “first been made what we are, so that what was perishable might be absorbed by imperishability and what was mortal by immortality” (Irenaeus, 137). The first Adam was made without an earthly father, so it is necessary for our “adoption as sons” that the second Adam be the God-man born through a virgin (Irenaeus, 137). Since the Incarnate Christ came through Mary instead of being remade from the dust, he was the same material makeup as those whom he is redeeming, thus eliminating the need to save another type of creation (Irenaeus, 139; see also Cyril of Alexandra, “Against Nestorius,” 134). In short, Irenaeus insists that Jesus must be fully God but also fully human to save humanity. The Gnostics Irenaeus attacks offer a simplistic answer by minimizing Jesus’ humanity, but Irenaeus shows how these easy answers offer no hope for salvation.

Athanasius (4th Century) Athanasius offers the Church’s response to Arianism. Whereas the Gnostics teach that Jesus is fully God who only appeared to be human,

Matthew Easter 5 Arius teaches that Jesus is fully human who only later became God. 3 He reaches this Christological conclusion through his soteriological commitments. Like the orthodox Fathers, Arius understands the cross as necessary for humanity’s redemption. The cross creates a problem for Arius, though, when considering Jesus’ divinity. God is unbegotten, eternal, and immutable. Since God cannot change, and suffering induces change, Arius thinks God could not have experienced suffering on the cross. Therefore, Arius’ Jesus could not be fully divine in the same way that God the Father is divine. Arius’ adage, “There once was when the Son was not” allows Jesus to suffer the crucifixion. Jesus was not eternally preexistent like God the Father. Jesus was a creation who later became God. Full divinity cannot suffer, but creation is prone to suffering. Since Jesus was the perfect creation of God the Father, he could allow himself to suffer on the cross for our redemption.

Arius’ explanation does not work for Athanasius. For Athanasius, Jesus must be fully human and fully God, even in his crucifixion.

Athanasius argues that Jesus is the eternally preexistent God the Son who became human with a body no different than ours (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 54; “On the Incarnation,” 62). First Peter 4:1 says that Christ suffered for us in the flesh. Athanasius is careful to say that the impassible Godhead did not suffer, but that the suffering of the flesh is attributed to the divine Word (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 5657). In this way, the human body was a saving instrument used by the divine: “The Word bore the infirmities of the flesh as his own, because the flesh was his; and the flesh assisted the actions of the deity, since the deity was in it. For the body was God’s” (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 54).

The human and divine natures of Christ are united and work together. Athanasius writes, “When the flesh was suffering, the Word was not external to it; that is why the suffering is attributed to him. Similarly, when he acted divinely doing the works of the Father, the flesh was not external to him; it was in the actual body that the Lord did these things” (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 54-55). Jesus’ actions are powered by both natures. In the miracles, for example, the flesh may stretch out the hand, produce spittle, or speak, but the divine heals, gives sight, and resurrects (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 55). The human and divine should not be confused, but they certainly cooperate.

This tight unity of natures is necessary for deification. First, Christ’s human actions had to be divine. Humans were created in the image of God, but that image had been lost. Therefore, the One after whom the image was created had to come to restore humanity (Athanasius, “On the Incarnation,” 59). People in the past like Jeremiah or John the Baptist lived holy lives, but corruption still reigned. In Christ, the Word took on the properties of flesh such that the passions no longer affect human life: “From now on men are no longer sinful and dead in virtue of their own passions; but in virtue of the power of the Word they have been raised and

6 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal are immortal and incorruptible for ever” (Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 56).

Secondly, the human body had to partake of the Word for the crucifixion to be effective. Death was a necessary condition for salvation, but the divine Word was unable to die. All humans were under the penalty of the corruption of death, but Christ as the divine human offered his life in our stead. God the Son “takes to himself a body capable of death” and the body took the Word, making it worthy to die in the place of humanity (Athanasius, “On the Incarnation,” 63). In this way, for everyone “being held to have died in him, the law involving the ruin of men might be undone” and “corruption might be stayed from all by the grace of the resurrection” (Athanasius, “On the Incarnation,” 63). Humans who die with Christ can look forward to a better resurrection: “For like the seeds which are cast into the earth, we do not perish by dissolution, but, sown in the earth, shall rise again, death having been brought to nought by the grace of the Saviour” (Athanasius, “On the Incarnation,” 75). We see, then, that just as Arius uses his soteriological and theological commitments to deny the full divinity of Christ, so Athanasius relies on his theosis soteriology to affirm orthodox Christology. Humans need a human to die on our behalf, but that death is only able to save if God himself was on the cross. If Jesus were not both fully human and fully divine, the cross would lose its power.

Gregory Nazianzen (4th Century) Gregory Nazianzen is a voice against the Apollinarians. Apollinaris teaches that the Godhead takes on the mind of Jesus only, while the body of Jesus remains fully human. Gregory insists that the Apollinarian heresy makes divinization impossible, since it allows the Godhead to mingle with the human flesh, but not with the soul, reason, or mind (Gregory of Nazianzus, “The Second Letter to Cledonius,” 226). This redeems only the exterior part of a human. Instead, Gregory insists, the divine must assume the entire human, since Adam fell completely: If anyone has put his trust in him as a man without a human mind, he is really bereft of mind, and quite unworthy of salvation. For that which he has not assumed he has not healed; but that which is united to his Godhead is also saved.

If only half Adam fell, then that which Christ assumes and saves may be half also; but if the whole of his nature fell, it must be united to the whole nature of Him that was begotten, and so be saved as a whole (Gregory of Nazianzus, “To Cledonius,” 218-219; emphasis mine).

Similar to Irenaeus, then, Gregory insists that Christ must be fully human in order to redeem humanity. The Apollinarian position redeems the flesh and not the mind, but Gregory’s Jesus redeems the whole person.

Matthew Easter 7 Cyril of Alexandria (Early 5th Century) Cyril of Alexandria argues against Nestorius for a unity of the human and divine natures of Christ. If God is eternal, Nestorius argued, then God can have no beginning in humanity. Since Mary could not have given birth to God but to a human only, there must be a necessary division between the divine and human in Jesus Christ. According to Cyril, Nestorius preferred to say, “God the Word was united to a man and dwelling within him” (Cyril of Alexandria, “Against Nestorius,” 138). In other words, at some point after his birth, the human and the divine wills of Jesus were conjoined. The divinity and humanity in Jesus are united through a conjunction or marriage of wills, where each nature is distinct from the other and yet have no division. As Nestorius put it, “the Son himself is twofold, not in rank but in nature” (Cyril of Alexandria, “Against Nestorius,” 148-149). Cyril found this unacceptable.

Cyril explains the unity of the human and divine in Jesus as a hypostatic union, language reflected later in the Definition of Chalcedon.4 The human and divine natures in Christ are united in more than just a conjunction or agreement of wills. All the fullness of the Godhead dwelt in Christ. This indwelling is different than how the Spirit indwells the saints.

The divine in Jesus is more like the psychosomatic unity of the soul and body in a person (Cyril of Alexandra, “Third Letter,” 351). The two natures are united and cannot be divided. Cyril makes the analogy of Jesus as a “spiritual coal lying on the altar,” where Jesus “is compared to a coal because he is conceived of as being from two things which are unlike each other and yet by a real combination are all but bound together into a unity.

For when fire has entered into wood, it transforms it by some means into its own glory and power, while remaining what it was” (Cyril of Alexandria, “Against Nestorius,” 143). The human part of Jesus does not become divine, and the divine does not become human, but there is a mysterious unity of the two nonetheless. As Cyril summarizes, “Just as he remained God in his humanity, so too in the nature and pre-eminence of deity he was nonetheless man” (Cyril of Alexandria, “Against Nestorius,” 164).

The divine Word has a deifying impact on the flesh. This deification of the flesh is like the divinization that those who participate in Christ experience. Jesus’ sinless life lived in the flesh is key to the escape from corruption. Cyril writes, “From the time that human flesh became the personal flesh of the Word it has ceased to be subject to corruption, and since he who dwelt within it, and revealed it as his very own, knew no sin being God … it has also ceased to be sick with its desires” (Cyril of Alexandria, “First Letter,” 356). In the Incarnation, therefore, we see a “wonderful transformation of human nature” (McGuckin, 186).

The hypostatic union is necessary if humans hope for divinization.

Christ as the divine human allows humans, through participation in the Holy Spirit, to become partakers of the divine nature: “For the Word of God the Father was born according to the flesh in the same way as

8 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal ourselves, so that we too might be enriched with a birth which is from God through the Spirit, no longer being called children of flesh but rather, having been transformed into something that transcends nature, being called sons of God by grace” (Cyril of Alexandria, “Against Nestorius,” 161162). Cyril curses those who refuse to confess that the Word of God suffered in the flesh (Cyril of Alexandria, “Third Letter,” 354). Instead, Cyril insists, Jesus “endured the cross so that by suffering death in the flesh (though not in the nature of the Godhead) he might become the firstborn from the dead” (Cyril of Alexandria, “First Letter,” 357; see also “Third Letter,” 351 and “Second Letter,” 67, 70-71). The hypostatic union of full humanity and full deity allows Jesus to recapitulate birth and become the first-born of the dead, so that humans might partake in the divine nature through participation in the Holy Spirit. Nestorius’ conjunction of wills is not sufficient to redeem the full human.

Pedagogical Applications Our survey of the quest for orthodox Christology in the Eastern Fathers above reveals (at least) three aspects of truth. First, truth is important. The Fathers would not abide diverse Christologies, as if to say any opinion well-argued is acceptable. Second, truth is interconnected.

These theologians surveyed commonly argue for their Christological position from a soteriological concern. Third, truth is paradoxical.5 Heresies emphasize Jesus’ humanity or divinity at the expense of the other, but orthodox Christology as defined at Chalcedon insists that Jesus must be fully God and fully human to redeem humanity. Jesus cannot be exclusively human or exclusively divine, he cannot be a mix thereof, and he cannot be half and half. If humans are to escape corruption, the divine nature of Christ must deify human nature, offering hope for humans to partake in the divine, and so say with Athanasius: ‘I am indeed made of earth, and am naturally mortal. But subsequently I have become the flesh of the Word. He has borne my passions, although he is impassible; I have become free of them, and because of the Lord who has freed me, I am no longer abandoned to their service. … For as the Lord became man by putting on the body, so we men are deified by the Word, by the fact that he has made us his own through the flesh; and henceforward we inherit eternal life.

(Athanasius, “Against the Arians III,” 57) In sum, the truth of orthodox Christology is (1) important because it is (2) interconnected with our quest for salvation, and therefore (3) easy answers are unacceptable.

Turning to the classroom, I suggest instructors do well to remember all three aspects of truth in our teaching. First, instructors should model

Matthew Easter 9 for students a high value for truth. While the stakes in any given lecture are likely not as significant as sorting through the human and divine natures of the Messiah, truth still matters. Truth is not simply an opinion rooted in one’s subjective experience of the world. Truth is real, as Aristotle’s correspondence theory of truth holds: “To say that that which is, is not, and that which is not, is, is a falsehood; therefore, to say that which is, is, and that which is not, is not, is true.” This means instructors should be the lead researchers, modeling for students a hunger for accuracy in all claims, submitting our own subjectivities to the objective reality, as best as we can decipher it with the most reliable and diverse tools presently available.

Second, truth is interconnected with other areas of knowledge. That is, a truth claim in one area will necessarily dictate truth claims in other areas. For example, since it is true that all triangles are three-sided polygons whose sum of internal angles equals 180, we are truth-bound to call any three-sided shape a triangle, while simultaneously calling any other-sided shape a non-triangle. In the classroom, instructors can show students the consequences of ideas. For example, if a Christian business teacher wishes to show her students the way of Jesus, she might explain how Jesus taught his disciples to “render to Caesar” (Matthew 22:21). A business owner’s commitment to follow Jesus should keep him or her from deliberately miscalculating inventory to raise the cost of goods sold, thereby lowering revenue in hopes of paying less tax. If it is true that Jesus is Lord, and if a business owner is committed to that objective reality over their business practices, then it is necessarily true that he or she should be honest in their financial reporting, even if it costs them.

Finally, truth is paradoxical. Truth is real, but this does not make truth simple. Back to the triangle example, while it is true that the internal angles of a triangle must equal 180, we would be incorrect to require each angle to be exactly 60. In fact, it is false to claim only equilateral triangles as true triangles, for this fails to account for right triangles, isosceles triangles, and so on. While at first glance these various triangles look rather different, the paradoxical truth is that all are triangles. Similarly, lectures that seek to indoctrinate students with easy answers to complex questions rob these students of the exploration for truth that appreciates knowledge for its many facets. An easy answer, such as all triangles have three 60 angles or Jesus only appeared to be human, while easier to explain, is wrong. The truth is in the paradox. As the education industrial complex pushes ever more for data-driven assessments, and as AIgenerated content is showing an uncanny ability to give passable answers to these very assessments, our appreciation for the multifaceted, paradoxical nature of truth has never been more important.

10 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Notes 1 All quotes from the Definition of Chalcedon come from Leith’s

translation in Creeds of the Churches: A Reader in Christian Doctrine from the Bible to the Present, ed. John H. Leith (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982; 3rd ed.) 35-36.

2 On the cautious use of the term “Gnosticism” as a broad descriptor of a

“family of religious doctrines and myths,” see Alister McGrath, Heresy: A History of Defending the Truth (New York: HarperCollins, 2009) 111-125 (here, 119).

3 Little of Arius’ own writing has survived. For a survey of Arius’ teachings,

see R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy, 318-381 (London: T &T Clark, 1988) 3-18.

4 Cf. The Definition of Chalcedon: “The ‘properties’ of each nature are

conserved and both natures concur in one ‘person’ and in one hypostasis.”

5 On Kierkegaard’s “paradoxical Christology,” see Andrew B. Torrance,

“Kierkegaard’s Paradoxical Christology” Participatio (2019).

Works Cited Athanasius. “Against the Arians III” in Documents in Early Christian Thought. Translated and edited by Maurice Wiles and Mark Santer.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. _______. “On the Incarnation of the Word” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated by Archibald Robertson. Edited by Edward R. Hardy. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977.

Cyril of Alexandria. “Against Nestorius” in Cyril of Alexandria. Translated

by Norman Russell. New York: Rutledge, 2000. _______. “First Letter of Cyril to Succensus” in St. Cyril of Alexandria: The Christological Controversy, Its History, Theology, and Texts.

Translated by John McGuckin. New York: Brill, 1994. _______. “Second Letter of Cyril to Succensus” in Documents in Early Christian Thought. Translated and edited by Maurice Wiles and Mark Santer. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2001. _______. “The Third Letter of Cyril to Nestorius” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated and edited by Edward R. Hardy.

Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977.

Gregory of Nazianzus. “The Second Letter to Cledonius Against Apollinaris (Epistle 102)” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated by Charles Gordon Browne and James Edward Swallow. Edited by Edward R. Hardy. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977.

Matthew Easter 11 _______. “To Cledonius Against Apollinaris (Epistle 101)” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated by Charles Gordon Browne and James Edward Swallow. Edited by Edward R. Hardy. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977. _______. “To Nectarius, Bishop of Constantinople (Epistle 202)” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated by Charles Gordon Browne and James Edward Swallow. Edited by Edward R. Hardy.

Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977. _______. “The Theological Orations” in Christology of the Later Fathers.

Translated by Charles Gordon Browne and James Edward Swallow.

Edited by Edward R. Hardy. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977.

Hanson, R. P. C. The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy, 318-381. London: T & T Clark, 1988.

Irenaeus. “Against Heresies” in Irenaeus of Lyons (The Early Christian Fathers). Translated and edited by Robert M. Grant. New York: Routledge, 1997.

Leith, John H. ed. Creeds of the Churches: A Reader in Christian Doctrine from the Bible to the Present. 3rd ed. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982.

Lossky, Vladimir. The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church. London: James Clarke & Co., 1957.

McGrath, Alister. Heresy: A History of Defending the Truth. New York: HarperCollins, 2009.

McGuckin, John. A. St. Cyril of Alexandria: The Christological Controversy, Its History, Theology, and Texts. New York: E. J. Brill, 1994.

Nestorius. “The First Letter of Nestorius to Celestine” in Christology of the Later Fathers. Translated and edited by Edward R. Hardy.

Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1977.

Torrance, Andrew B. “Kierkegaard’s Paradoxical Christology.”

Participatio. 2019.

Wainwright, Geoffrey. Doxology: The Praise of God in Worship, Doctrine, and Life. New York: Oxford University Press, 1980.

12 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 12-18

The Scent of Faerie in Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi Matthew Bardowell Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi (2020) is about a man who finds himself in a house made of vast halls. He does not remember who he is or how he got there. The rooms in this house are filled with statues. The only living creatures he encounters are the birds and sea life that share the house with him—and one man who Piranesi calls “the Other.” In a deeper sense, however, Piranesi is “a book about a man who lives in a house that loves him,” or so says Joy Clarkson. Clarkson, who has praised the novel in her review and on her podcast Speaking with Joy, channels the novel’s protagonists in this characterization of the mysterious house. Piranesi seems to view the house not only as an agent but as a deity. The final line of Piranesi’s first entry establishes his attitude toward this place: “The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite” (Clarke 5).

Structured as it is, around Piranesi’s journal entries, the effect of this epistolary style is to limit our understanding of his world to his own often naïve perceptions. So, as we read, we wonder: what is the house? Does it really love him? We do not perhaps dispute the house’s beauty, but we wonder: can it be kind?

Despite Piranesi’s adoration of the house, it does have some rather unpleasant elements that challenge our ability to see it as a loving deity. It is true that Piranesi views himself as a “Beloved Child of the House” (163), but he also views parts of the house as dangerous. He calls the drowned halls “treacherous,” with their sometimes sheer dropoffs and accumulations of broken marble. The house provides nourishment for him, but also presents challenges to his wellbeing. It does not appear to be sufficient to meet all his needs. He cannot travel through halls littered with jagged debris until the Other brings him new shoes from his world (50-51).

When Piranesi lists all the things that Ketterly has brought in from the outside, we see the limits of what the house can offer to sustain his life.

Among these things are bedding, fishing nets, matches, multivitimins, plastic bowls for collecting fresh water, and an orange (52-53). Near the end of the story, Sarah Raphael, a police officer searching for Piranesi after he disappears from his own world, offers the most striking appraisal of the house as an ideal place: “I said that this is a perfect world. But it’s not.

There are crimes here, just like everywhere else” (226). These qualities of the house, what it provides and what it does not, suggest that perhaps Piranesi’s feelings toward it are a kind of misplaced natural religion. And this raises further questions about the House’s nature.

Matthew Bardwell 13 I argue that the house is a faerie space. But its faerie character does not detract from the religious feelings that Piranesi projects onto it; rather, it enhances them. To make this case, I will work with two propositions about faerie that I take from J. R. R. Tolkien and G. K. Chesterton. The first is that faerie is beautiful but perilous. This perilousness arises from the fact that the fairy world is not suited to humans. Our lives run parallel to the faerie world, as Tolkien says, and we must encounter the world without attempting to control it. The result is that the fairy world diminishes us and we must be vulnerable to its dangers. But the flip side of this danger is our wonder at its untamed beauty. Piranesi exhibits this wonder, which makes him curious, attentive. Piranesi views himself as a scientist, learning about the house and receiving its blessings. He knows he can take nothing for granted but that everything is a gift. The second proposition about faerie is that it aids us in discovering meaning, which is what Piranesi must learn to do during his residence in the house.

Clarke seems to embed hints suggesting the house is faerie space.

We can observe these in the novel’s debt to C. S. Lewis. Piranesi begins with an epigraph taken from Lewis’s The Magician’s Nephew—a line from Digory’s Uncle, Andrew Ketterley, who lends his name to Piranesi’s only living friend as the novel begins, Valentine (Andrew) Ketterley. Both Ketterleys are magicians and both men have questionable ethics when it comes to experimenting with human subjects. Andrew Ketterley, in Lewis’s novel, has a fairy godmother, the possessor of magical rings which pass down to him and which he intends to use in his experiment with Digory and Polly. Uncle Andrew tells the children that his godmother, Mrs. Lefay, “was one of the last mortals in this country who had fairy blood in her . . . In fact, Digory, you are now talking to the last man (possibly) who really had a fairy godmother” (Lewis 19). Andrew Ketterley’s magic rings are tied to faerie, and we begin to see further connections to the faerie world as the children use them. As Clarkson recognizes, the house resembles the wood between the worlds in The Magician’s Nephew in that both places make those who venture there sleepy or forgetful (“Part Five” 22:45-22:55). Piranesi not only forgets who he was before entering the house, he forgets a great deal about the world he left behind. Beyond this, the architecture of the house and the many statues that populate it resemble the courtyard to which Digory and Polly travel in the land of Charn and the room in which they encounter scores of statues (Lewis 47). The common link between the rings Uncle Andrew gives the children, the Wood between the Worlds, and the land of Charn is that they are fairy spaces. Clarke invokes this connection in Piranesi, which suggests that it, too, is a fairy space.

Whatever Clarke’s house owes to Lewis’s Charn, Lewis owes to the fairy elements of medieval romances. We find, for instance, the same soporific effects in the Middle English Sir Orfeo, when Heurodis falls asleep beneath an “ympe” tree and is abducted by the fairy king (Sir Orfeo ll. 70-74). The “ympe tree” is a grafted blend of trees, which makes it something of a gateway between worlds. In these romances, humans are

14 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal often fairy-adjacent without realizing it, until they fall into fairyland by some mischance that is just as likely to be profitable as disasterous. But how are we to understand fairyland? Definitions are bound to fail us.

Tolkien observes that fairy is by nature “indescribable, though not imperceptible” (Tolkien 114). In his treatise on the nature of faerie “On Fairy-Stories,” Tolkien writes, “Faerie cannot be caught in a net of words” and then proceeds to try to do just that (114). Like those who wander into fairyland, scholars cannot resist attempting precisely that which they are told at the outset they should not do. Fairyland is a lovely and beautiful place, yes, but it is a perilous realm. It is perilous in much the same way that Piranesi’s house is perilous. The danger of fairyland presents the human interloper with a test. Consider the 14th-century medieval romance Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which Tolkien mentions as an “admirable example” of fairy story (114). In that poem, Gawain is a knight of King Arthur’s court, acclaimed for being the worthiest of knights, perfect in the courtly virtues. And yet, when the Green Knight appears at Yuletide, he questions the reputation of Arthur’s court. The Green Knight abounds with nature imagery. He is green himself, clad in green garments embroidered with growing things. Gawain must go out from his own world and venture into fairyland to keep his honor and commitment to the Green Knight’s beheading game. Gawain is measured by this encounter and found wanting, but Gawain ends the poem with a better understanding of himself and his place in the world.

Piranesi’s house presents the humans who enter it with similar kind of test. Not a survival test, but a test of identity. The house forces its inhabitants to ask who they are and what their place is within it. This test lands us squarely in the territory of fairyland’s magic. Tolkien tells us that the magic of fairy is “not an end in itself, its virtue is in its operations: among these are the satisfaction of certain primordial human desires” (Tolkien 116). One of these primordial desires is “communion with other living things” (116). We certainly see this in Piranesi’s behavior in the house. He speaks to the gulls and rooks. He believes that they speak to him and interprets their movements and the statues on which they perch as meaningful (39-43). He meticulously cares for the dead in the house. He speaks to them and brings them offerings of food and drink. He talks to the statues.

Through these actions, Piranesi seeks meaning in his world, which is the house, and this contrasts with the man he was before being sent there. Later we learn that the man who becomes Piranesi is a skeptic, disbelieving not on in the other worlds Ketterley and his mentor, Laurence Arne-Sayles, speak of but in their very possibility. In an interview with Hindustan Times, Clarke frames Piranesi’s developing attitude toward the house as a critique of progress, and this critique, as Clarkson notices, arises from Clarke’s engagement with the work of Owen Barfield. Barfield, friend of Lewis and fellow Inkling, had much to say about the maladies of modern positivism.1 He attempts to diagnose the loss of meaning humans experience after the Scientific Revolution, when, according to Barfield, we

Matthew Bardwell 15 developed a habit of “meticulously observing the facts of nature and systematically interpreting them in terms of physical cause and effect” (Barfield 13). In such a positivist environment, Barfield claims, we develop the “habit of inattention” as we reduce a thing’s significance to its cause (14). To use Barfield’s own example, the cause of handwritten words should not be confused with their meaning. He goes on to say, “The meaning of the words I am writing is not the physical pressure of thumb and forefinger . . . ; it is the concepts expressed in the words I am writing” (24). Barfield is not challenging causal relationships because they lead to unreliable information about the world but because adhering to physical causes is a poor method for discovering meaning in the world.

In Orthodoxy, Chesterton makes his case for how faerie can correct the very error that Barfield identifies as the positivist’s ailment. According to Chesterton, the ethics of faerie, or as he calls it, “Elfland,” teach us not to sentimentalize causal relationships. Chesterton begins by urging his readers to consider the difference between “true law” and merely observing the outcomes of a few processes. A true law is governed by necessity, and Cherterton challenges the sorts of natural causes and effects we observe every day as not possessing the same type of necessity as the laws of reason. To understand this, simply subject a proposition to the test of imagination. Chesterton invites us to imagine “two and one not making three” (Chesterton 254). We can’t. We cannot conceive of two and one not making three because we understand the nature of one and two and the enactment of addition. To do this is not merely to consider a different sort of world with a different set of laws; it is nonsense. Now, try to imagine trees not bearing fruit. Try instead to imagine them “growing golden candlesticks or tigers hanging on by the tail” (254). This we can do, Chesterton argues, because it is the difference between a miracle and a “mental impossibilty” (254). Faerie sheds light on the miraculousness of everyday life. If we understand that it is not necessery that trees grow fruit, then we can take more delight in the fruit they do grow. After all, if our experience of this world might in so many particulars, have been different, we begin to see meaning behind them being the way they are. Repeated phenomena like trees bearing fruit are not, strictly speaking, necessary.

For Chesterton, these things are magic (255). As Haley Stewart, one of Clarkson’s podcast guests expresses it, “a house infers an architect” (“Part Five” 24:20-22:33). So too does magic infer a magician.

Piranesi’s outlook on the house, an outlook that blends wonder and reason, is something that arises out of his exposure to faerie. For an illustration of this faerie ethic, consider Piranesi’s entry “A white cross,” which recounts the day on which the albatross first comes to the SouthWestern Halls. Piranesi’s curiosity about his world leads him to gaze up at what he first describes as a “white, shining cross” that he later realizes is a bird in flight (29). It is an albatross, and it is flying directly towards him.

Piranesi greets the albatross. He writes, “It swept on, coming directly towards me. I spread my arms in answer to its spread wings, as if I was going to embrace it. I spoke out loud. Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! was

16 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal what I think I meant to say, but the Wind took my breath from me and all I could manage was: ‘Come! Come! Come’” (29-30). Observe Piranesi’s desire to commune with the albatross. He spreads his own arms in a sympathetic gesture. He addresses the bird, welcoming it in his heart and in a strange hospitality inviting it in. In this moment, Piranesi experiences delight and wonder. The cross becomes a bird. A man becomes a bird. As the albatross draws nearer, it appears to Piranesi that the albatross will collide with him, and he is delighted by the thought. Listen to what Piranesi says next: Still it continued, straight towards me, and the strangest thought came to me: perhaps the albatross and I were destined to merge and the two of us would become another order of being entirely: an Angel! This thought both excited and frightened me, but still I remained, arms outstretched, mirroring the albatross’s flight. (I thought how surprised the Other would be when I flew into the Second South-Western Hall on my Angel Wings, bringing him messages of Peace and Joy!). (Clarke 30) This is a remarkable moment, not least of all because Piranesi, the selfprofessed scientist seems to believe for a fleeting moment that the result of a collision between two solid bodies will be that they merge into a third, completely new being—an angel. A cross becomes a bird. A man becomes a bird. Bird and man may become an angel. What, in all of Piranesi’s scientific principles could possibly lead him to expect such a miracle as this? It is born out of Tolkien’s notion that faerie aims to satisfy our innate desire communion, yes, but it is more than this. I suggest that it is also related to Chesterton’s “The Ethics of Elfland.” As I have shown, Chesterton analyzes the fairy story as a narrative that puts the reader back in touch with wonder at the world. He takes what we usually talk about as natural laws and tries to show that these are not lifeless, repetitive processes but intentional acts of God. There is a magician, and the world is full of his magic. Faerie gives us instruction in this kind of magic because when we enter Elfland, we enter a place we know nearly nothing about.

Our memories of our world, if we retain them, serve us poorly. Our understanding of how nature works is not applicable there. We are plunged back into a kind of youthful ignorance in which every experience is new and part of an inchoate understanding of a wondrous place.

Chesterton calls this a “higher agnosticism” or “Ignorance” (Chesterton 257). He writes: We have all read in scientific books, and, indeed, in all romances, the story of the man who has forgotten his name.

This man walks about the streets and can see and appreciate everything; only he cannot remember who he is. Well, every man is that man in the story. Every man has forgotten who

Matthew Bardwell 17 he is…. We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for cetrain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstacy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget. (Chesterton 257) In this passage, Chesterton could be describing Piranesi. He has forgotten who he is, but this forgetfulness has opened up to him the possibility of wonder that he did not have before being sent to the house.

Fairyland, then, presents us with a world of wonders so that we may increase our wonder at this world. Following the narrative structure of medieval romances yet again, Piranesi moves from a state of integration at the beginning of the novel, to disintergration when he is confronted with the truth of how he came to the house, and, finally, reintegration when he is restored to his own world at the end. His restoration takes the form of seeing meaning in the things of the world that his materialism prevented him from understanding before wandering in faerie. It’s the statues that help him make sense of his own world. He understands Ketterley by seeing him as the statue of a man with a a broken sword. The man kneels before a globe he has shattered with the sword. He wanted to understand the sphere, “but now he finds that he has destroyed both sphere and sword” (244). He sees a mother with a child and thinks he has seen them before in a statue. He understands his rescuer, Raphael, through two different statues: one heroic and one holding out a lantern in the darkness. He sees an old man, “sad and tired,” with “broken veins on his cheeks and bristly white beard” (244). He understands him through the statue of a king before a model city “with a hand raised in blessing” (244). He recognizes that these depictions in the house are true in some way. He wants to tell the old man, “In another world you are a king, noble and good! I have seen it!” These moments reveal something significant about Piranesi. He has achieved a kind of meaning he was incapable of discovering when he was Matthew Rose Sorensen. Through the statues, Piranesi understands not only who these people are but what they mean.

When Piranesi returns to his world, inevitably people ask him where he has been all these years. How can he possibly explain this? He could say what Ketterley might have said, that he was in a labrynth, but he doesn’t. He could say, as Laurence Arne-Sayles might, that he was in another world where ancient knowledge had burrowed a conduit, but he doesn’t say that either. Instead, he says, “I was in a house with many rooms. The sea sweeps through the house. Sometimes it swept over me, but always I was saved” (Clarke 234). The house, like fairyland, can be a dangerous, inhospitable. This peril awakens him to his relative smallness in the world so that he can be restored to a right relationship within it.

When we wander in faerie, we wander in a place we can have no illusions of controllong. And perhaps fairyland shows us that our personal identities

18 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal are less important than the identity we bear through our communion with others, with the world. Even when Piranesi is saved Raphael, he does not reassume his old identity as Matthew Rose Sorensen. Neither does he think of himself as Piranesi. He remains forgetful of himself in this way. At the novel’s close, Raphael wants to know who he is. The only identity that he seems to recognize is the one that gave his life meaning at a time when he communed most intimately with the world: “I am the Beloved Child of the House,” he says (Clarke 212). And that is enough.

Note 1 Barfield also makes an appearance in Piranesi’s journal indices under

“Outsider philosophy,” likely for his views on original participation, which closely resemble the ideas of Laurence Arne-Sayles (Clarke 104).

Works Cited Barfield, Owen. The Rediscovery of Meaning and Other Essays. Oxford: Barfield Press, 2013.

Chesterton, G. K. The Collected Works of G. K. Chesterton I: Heretics, Orthodoxy, The Blatchford Controversies. Edited by David Dooley.

San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1986.

Clarke, Susanna. Piranesi. Bloomsbury, 2020. Rpt. 2021.

Clarkson, Joy. “That I May Dwell in the House of the Lord”: Review of Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke. Plough, Nov. 10, 2020.

Lewis, C. S. The Magician’s Nephew. New York: Collier Books, 1955. Rpt. 1970.

Milbank, Alison. Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians: The Fantasy of the Real. New York: T&T Clark, 2009.

Miller, Laura. “Susanna Clarke’s Fantasy World of Interiors.” The New Yorker, Sept. 14, 2020. Retrieved on May 18, 2022.

“Part Five: Valentine Ketterly (with Haley Stewart).” Speaking with Joy, July 19, 2021, https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/part-fivevalentine-ketterley-with-haleystewart/id1310614879?i=1000529403561.

Sir Orfeo. The Middle English Breton Lays. Edited by Anne Laskaya and Eve Salisbury. TEAMS: Middle English Text Series, 1995.

Tolkien, J. R. R. “On Fairy-Stories.” The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, edited by Christopher Tolkien, Harper Collins Publishers, 1997, 109-161.

Aaron Lumpkin 19 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 19-25

Thoughts and Reflections A Renewed Vision of Christian Education Aaron Lumpkin Editor’s Note: Below is a transcript of the speech delivered at Missouri Baptist University’s Fall Faculty Conference in August 2023.

Introduction As faculty members, we have the privilege to make disciples of Jesus Christ and equip students to love and serve both God and neighbor in the academy. We have a responsibility to model the integration of faith and learning in a Christian liberal arts environment.

As Christian faculty members, we have a distinct vision and commitment to Christian education, that is, to practice education Christianly. I also believe that at times we can lose sight of the end goal in mind, particularly as it relates to the Christian nature of education—that, ultimately, this is God’s world. It's easy for us to allow our faith, even as Christians, to be pushed to the side, minimized, or denigrated, sometimes intentionally, though more oftentimes unintentionally. So today I hope to remind you of Our Calling in Christian education and how we ought to pursue faith-filled and faithful teaching and learning.

A Renewed Vision Know Our Calling This renewed vision first begins with knowing Our Calling. First, our calling is to the Lord Jesus Christ—to know love and follow him. This is understood in the context of the whole story of the Bible.

The Christian scriptures remind us that God created the world and all that he made is good. Man and woman were created in the image and likeness of God with the intention of having a unique and dynamic relationship with their creator. But due to the rebellion of our first parents—Adam and Eve—Sin entered the world and death through sin.

And God in his infinite wisdom and steadfast love sent his one and only

20 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Son as a substitutionary atonement for our sins. He took the judgment and punishment that we deserved so that by grace through faith when we call on him for forgiveness of sins we can be reconciled to God and adopted into his family. Now, we have the privilege of following him, being set free from the law of sin and death, as his ambassadors who proclaim the story of redemption and reconciliation to the world until Christ returns.

It is good to remember this good news. Continually in the OT and NT, we are told to remember God’s works. I love 2 Tim 2:8—“Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead.” This good news, the story of redemption, is the guidepost for our work as men, women, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends, and of course as educators. This is the knowledge most worth knowing. It has eternal ramifications and consequences, and it brings about the greatest joys and pleasures in this life and in the life to come.

Second, our calling is faithful living unto Christ. This good news, however, does not stop simply with our own salvation. While it certainly includes this, it also extends to how we live in the world. I often say, as I've heard others say before me, that we need to live in God’s world God’s way. If we are to do this, we need to understand first what he says. We affirm that God as creator and sustainer has revealed himself to us by his word. He gives meaning to our lives and to the lives of others. And he calls us to live with passion and with wisdom as we live in his world.

The scriptures describe the aim of our lives as glorifying God and enjoying him forever, as the Westminster Catechism reminds us. This idea comes from several passages in the Bible. For instance, consider Isaiah 43:7, which says, “[E]veryone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory whom I formed and made.” Or Romans 11:36, which says, “[F]or from him and through him and to him are all things period to him be glory forever. Amen.” Or 1 Corinthians 10:31, which says, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." I'll be the first to admit that I fail at this more often than I succeed.

If we study the idea of Christian growth in the Scriptures, we know it is one that requires us to recognize our own impoverishment and lack of ability, in and of ourselves, to grow spiritually. This reality requires us to come to grips with who we really are. We need a distinct awareness of our own sinfulness that leads us to humility and sober repentance before God. As Dane Ortland has noted, “[W]e will not grow, not deeply anyway, except by going through the painful death of being honest about our own spiritual bankruptcy.”1 John Newton, the famous hymn-writer of “Amazing Grace” shared a similar sentiment: “[T]he life of faith seems so simple and easy in theory, that I can point it out to others in a few words; but in practice it's very difficult, and my advances are so slow, that I hardly dare say I get forward at all.”2 And yet, because we are in Christ, united to him through faith, we have all that we need for life and godliness. Consider 2 Peter 1:3—“His divine power has given us everything required for life and godliness

Aaron Lumpkin 21 through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.” Did you catch that—“everything”?

Jonathan Edwards, the great pastor and theologian, described this union like this: By virtue of the believer’s union with Christ, he does really possess all things…. I mean that God three in one, all that he is, and all that he has, and all that he does, all that he has made or done—the whole universe, bodies and spirits, earth and heaven …. — are as much the Christian’s as the money in his pocket, the clothes he wears, or the house he dwells in…, yes, properly his, advantageously his,… by virtue of the union with Christ; because Christ, who certainly does possess all things, is entirely his: so that he possesses it all… it is all his.3 We have what we need to grow, but what we have does not come from us.

It comes from Christ. In this union, we quickly learn that the way we grow is to enjoy and embrace God's love for us. Consider Ephesians 3:17b–19, which says, I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, 18 may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love, 19 and to know Christ’s love that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Friends, if we are to be lead Christian educators, we must understand the priority of our calling—to know the love of Christ. Let me encourage you, if you don’t already, to build in time to your regular rhythms both at home and at work to fix your mind and your heart upon these things. To meditate upon the eternal, free, and transforming love of God. In so doing, you’ll find the Excellency and majesty of Christ receive you with open arms. Ready to forgive your sins. Ready to guide and direct you through the mountains and valleys of life. To be called not simply a servant but a friend.

Third, our calling is to our work as educators. Our calling as educators is situated in the overall aim of education. Without delving too deeply into philosophies of education, I think we can agree that the goal of Christian education in many ways is to promote human flourishing by developing and equipping students as they seek to fulfill their calling to love and serve both God and neighbor. This does not minimize or denigrate the importance and priority of conveying essential knowledge and skills within our own disciplines. But rather, this philosophic approach provides the undergirding necessary to do those things as believers.

Knowing then the aim of education, we do well to remember our primary role as teachers. I recognize there are various debates about the

22 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal primary role of the professor, but I submit to you that our primary role is service. And service occurs through teaching (telling), modeling (doing), and leading (helping). Another way to say this is we serve by telling, doing, and helping. The scriptures often speak of the nature of teaching. It relates to love, imitation, building up, modeling, directing, leading, training, and more.

We have defined the integration of faith and learning as the process of bringing to bear the lordship of Jesus Christ and our Christian faith on our comprehensive learning and teaching experience. That is, because Christ is Lord of all and because we seek to know love and follow him as his disciples, all that we do including everything in the educational enterprise is meant to foster faithful learning and living. Our goal, simply put, is ultimately discipleship. We want to see lives changed by the good news of Jesus Christ.

As we do this, we must not only know our calling, but also…

Know Our Context To excel in the integration of faith and learning, we need to know our context, we need to know those whom we serve. Like us, they are created in the image of God. They are born into sin and need salvation.

While many are far from God, many are believers, and they have the same Holy Spirit living in them as we do. However, they are different— developmentally, preferentially, culturally, socially—and the list goes on.

First, let’s consider Gen Z at large.4 As observed by Twenge, new technologies have radically shaped our society. She argues that technology is largely responsible for the significant changes in culture. For her, technology is not just a thing, like an iPhone, but it influences how we live, think, feel, etc. The rise of individualism, along with a delay in adulthood, combined with technology, have led to massive cultural and generational changes.

Our primary audience that we serve is Gen Z—those who were born between 1995 and 2012. The oldest Gen Z’s were 12 when the iPhone was introduced. Twenge describes them as “concerned with authenticity, confronting free speech issues, pushing the norms of gender, and struggling with mental health” (347). How might this shape our understanding of serving our students?

• • •

If our students are easily overwhelmed, we ought to be careful not to spring things on them. This requires clear, frequent communication.

If students struggle with self-confidence, especially girls, we should seek to offer public praise (as appropriate) and private rebuke.

If students are technologically connected, we shouldn’t make technology the enemy. Instead, we distill wisdom on how to use

Aaron Lumpkin 23

• •

technology in such a way that promotes love for God and neighbor as opposed to pure self-indulgence.

If students are slow to grow up, we ought to call students to maturity in winsome ways.

And, if students are not inclined to follow God’s design in relationships, we should seek to convey the beauty of God’s design, calling for them to live in God’s world God’s way while showing compassion for those who struggle with gender dysphoria.

Know Our Content That is, we need to know our content well. Knowing and excelling in communicating our content is of course essential to what we do. But this in and of itself is insufficient for Christian higher education. For us, we must see our disciplines through the lens of the Christian worldview. This means that we prioritize biblical formation, awareness of current research, and how to apply our findings. One might say that our approach requires that we consider what God says and what others say and then pose the question “How should I then live?”

First, consider curriculum formation. This is not simply listing a Bible verse at the beginning of a lecture or on a PowerPoint. Scott Rae at Biola calls this the Christmas tree method. We aren’t simply hanging Bible verses throughout our lesson. It’s not praying at the start or at the end of class. These are good things for us to do! However, the idea behind integration, particularly in curriculum, focuses on course design and student engagement. Activities and other course components work together to challenge the student to think in a holistic way from their worldview perspectives on their disciplines. That is, we want them to think about there are subjects in light of a biblical worldview.

In our design, we seek to make connections and draw comparisons as we convey concepts about the Christian worldview and our disciplines (as well as across disciplines). As we seek to do this, we emphasize thinking, reading, writing, discussing, cooperating, collectively engaging, and summarizing.

Second, consider character and virtue formation. Saint Augustine once wrote that “the very virtues of this life … are certainly its best and most useful possessions.”5 Character and virtue formation relate to that which is morally valuable. Augustine also described virtue as the “art of regulating life.”6 Last year, I taught logic for the first time. As I spoke with our students, I emphasized that logic ultimately helps us live well. However, I took it a step further and emphasized that logic in the Christian worldview helps us know how to live well in God’s world.

We praise people who live well, don’t we? This is at the heart of character and virtue formation. Virtue concerns that which is praiseworthy. We might immediately think of the cardinal virtues:

24 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. Likewise, we think of Christian virtues like faith, hope, and love. We can describe moral virtues like kindness compassion and generosity. Or we can point to two intellectual virtues attentiveness and curiosity.

And while our students may display some or many of these, we also know this does not indicate that they are virtuous people. Instead, we’re reminded of what Aristotle wrote in Nicomachean Ethics: “Neither one swallow, nor one day, makes a spring; So neither does one day, nor a short time, make a man blessed and happy.”7 Character is the whole, while virtue is the parts if you will.

An emphasis on virtue, even in publications, has continued to decline since the early 1800s.8 We need a renewed emphasis on virtue, starting with the knowledge of what it is, and then calling our students to apply these virtues in their lives.

I dare bring up something that may make many of us cringe— grading. While I know some of us really enjoy this, I also know some view it like the plague. However, I want to encourage you to see grading as the ministry of virtue formation. Richard Ramsey in an article entitled “The Ministry…of Grading?” describes the benefits of the spiritual work of grading, both for the student and the professor.9 Conclusion Luke 6:40 says, “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher.” We do well to learn from Jesus’ teaching style: Lecture, dialogue, questions, parables, object lessons, and simplicity. And yet, as we teach, we ought to look more and more like Christ, not simply in his style of teaching. We must be marked by character and virtue if we are to succeed. We must model godliness. Let’s strive together to pursue the Lordship of Christ across our campuses.

Aaron Lumpkin 25 Notes 1 Dane C. Ortlund, Deeper: Real Change for Real Sinners (Wheaton, IL:

Crossway, 2021), 44.

2 Ortlund, 45; See Letters of John Newton, 184.

3 Jonathan Edwards, The “Miscellanies”: (Entry Nos. A–z, Aa–zz, 1–500),

ed. Thomas A. Schafer and Harry S. Stout, Corrected Edition, vol. 13, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 183–184. Language updated.

4 Jean M. Twenge, Generations: The Real Differences Between Gen Z,

Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents―and What They Mean for America’s Future (New York, NY: Atria Books, 2023).

5 Augustine of Hippo, “The City of God,” in St. Augustine’s City of God and

Christian Doctrine, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. Marcus Dods, vol. 2, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, First Series (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1887), 403.

6 Augustine of Hippo, “The City of God,” in St. Augustine’s City of God and

Christian Doctrine, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. Marcus Dods, vol. 2, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, First Series (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1887), 400.

7 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics (G. Bell and sons, 1889), 1.7.

8 Based upon Google Ngram search.

9 Richard Ramsey, “The Ministry of . . . Grading?,” Christian Education

Journal 9, no. 2 (Fall 2012): 415, https://doi.org/10.1177/073989131200900212.r.

26 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 26-32

Faculty Matters: Storytelling, A City on a Hill, and Striving for Excellence Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann Author’s Note: This talk was presented at Missouri Baptist University’s Fall Faculty Conference on August 17, 2023.

Thank you, Dr. Chambers. I am happy to be here this morning to give this charge to the faculty. I want to talk about connection with students but using a few marketing principles. This may seem counterintuitive, but hopefully you’ll find some inspiration. Because faculty matters. You matter. In a purely business sense, faculty are the producers of the product of higher education, so how we do that matters.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” —Philippians 4:8 (ESV) Storytelling In marketing, storytelling is the new buzzword for marketing communications or marcom. It essentially means that marketers are creating stories around their brands to drive connection with customers.

The reason it has this groundswell of importance in marcom is simply that storytelling works.

But of course, storytelling is not new. Marketers think they invented everything, but there’s really nothing new under the sun. Storytelling has, of course, been used throughout time to connect people with one another.

It is the essence of building community and relationships. It is the essence of what makes us human, a desire to connect with one another. It is how past, present, and future form.

Think of your own story. Think back to being 18, 20, or 22, the ages many of our students are when we meet in our classes. There are some sharp statistical realities of this generation that differentiate it from past ones, but regardless of the generation, this age is still a difficult time for many students, and it may have been for us. For many of us, it was scary, maybe confusing, maybe full of wonder, maybe full of angst. Think of how

Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann 27 your story has unfolded since then. I found Jesus in college, or as it should be, Jesus found me. And I can look to see how God wrote the preceding chapters of my story to prepare me for him and how he has orchestrated the trajectory of my life since.

At the end of the spring semester, I have an essay I give to graduating students. Below is a small part of it: Who you are now is but a portion of who you will become.

Whether you are confident in or fearful of the future, this time is but a minute in the long line of days that is your life.

Some things may not make sense to you now but know that these days are the threads in the tapestry of the story of your life. Those threads may seem messy and frayed, but God is weaving in you a beautiful picture.

The tapestry illustration is a well-worn analogy for the great author of all our stories. You may know Corrie ten Boom’s association with this and her poem that begins with “My life is but a weaving / Between my God and me.” I love this illustration of the tapestry of our lives, especially as it relates to the messiness and to the imperfections and the regrets.

An episode of one of my favorite TV shows involved this theme where the main character had a chance to “fix” something in his story. It doesn’t work out the way he expects, and all is set right by a sentient godlike being. He expresses gratitude as part of the moral of this episode: “There are many parts of my youth that I’m not proud of… there were loose threads… untidy parts of me that I would like to remove. But when I pulled on one of those threads… it unraveled the tapestry of my life.”

I would say that sharing our stories with our students is a way to practice Godly humanity. Sometimes that means the good, the bad, and the ugly, obviously with discernment and wisdom. I don’t mean to say that we need to be an open book but involve them in your story. Share with them your testimony, or as Matthew West says, What’s your story about His glory?

Let them know that all of us have stories, that all of us have loose threads, frayed edges, and knots that may be on the underside. But also tell them how beautiful that tapestry of their life is, that it is being woven and written by the Lord, who only does good work. Become part of their story, be present in what will be their past.

And then connect to the Story, the true story, really the only story.

You know the one, you know the hymn, “I love to tell of the story.” And to God be the glory.

A City on a Hill Secondly, as we connect to students with our stories, their stories, and God’s great story, we must also embrace the blessing of a place to do

28 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal it. This is a marketing principle as well. If you have taken an introductory marketing class, you may be familiar with the four Ps of marketing, one of which is place. We must have a place for exchange, and our place is Christian higher education at Missouri Baptist University.

Just after the beatitudes, Jesus says in the Gospel According to Matthew: You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (5:14-16) But, oh, what a darkening time we sometimes seem to be in. Many universities that started in a religious tradition, some even in an evangelical tradition, have lost their way. Some schools have closed under heavy financial burdens, and some have adopted culturally sensitive missions that may not be biblical. There is a wide gap between Christian and secular schools. But in that gap is opportunity.

Higher education was created to be a social institution where students were treated as members of a learning community and learning is valued for its own sake. Over time, though, the university setting has seemed less of a community and more of a commodity.

This is driven by several factors including student reliance on federal financial aid and the growth of accrediting bodies which also help to standardize curriculum, and articulation agreements which equate classes as the same across schools. And higher education institutions have seen dramatic upheaval due to external factors such as COVID-19.

Additionally, small HEIs are under enormous pressure to raise enrollments, retain students, track outcomes, track alumni, and increase endowments in an increasingly competitive landscape all the while having to meet the needs of various constituent stakeholders such as students, parents, alumni, governing bodies, employees, faculty, and communities.

The situation is exacerbated in smaller schools with more limited resources.

The result of this is that, to thrive, universities must provide another level of differentiation, i.e., customer value, in the crowded marketplace. And that feeds directly into this place. I’m pragmatic about this; we cannot ignore the operational realities and challenges. We do, though, have an opportunity and blessing to distinguish ourselves as different in the marketplace, and we can.

In a book on restoring the soul of the Christian university, the authors discuss that without a common theme, without a common cause, and without a common mission, students will lose, or never attain, a sense of community and fellowship with their schools and each other.

Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann 29 We are so richly blessed by an environment here that not only accepts the Christian mission but encourages it and lives it. You need to ask yourself why you’re here if not for that. This is our niche, so to speak, and we can build community here with students and with each other to further God’s kingdom on earth. The ultimate mission. The Great Commission.

Where else could we do what we do? I encourage you to be present in this place, whether virtually or physically, to truly understand that what we do here is different, that our value to students is different, to be an ambassador of the mission, and to shine the light on the Hill.

Striving for Excellence Third and last, let’s do what we do well. Let’s offer a quality product. There’s a small social media debate going on in my circles (who are mostly Calvinists, so the debate may be raging for a while) about the Christian shoemaker. “The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes because God is interested in good craftsmanship.” This is attributed to Luther although some argue it sounds more like Kuyper, but regardless, it does point to the Protestant work ethic and the quest for quality. I don’t want to get in the theological weeds here except to say that we are saved by grace first, foremost, always, but that we can strive for excellence to glorify God. The late Tim Keller—I was so blessed by in my youth as both a baby Christian and a new career gal in the pews of his Redeemer Church—wrote a book on the purpose of work, whether it be secular or Christian, called Every Good Endeavor: Connecting Your Work to God’s Work (2012). If you have never read it, I strongly recommend it as it really helps to unravel some significant paradoxes about work, the purpose of toil, and the need to do good work. There’s a section in which he talks about work, service, and competence.

He writes, “Work is the form in which we make ourselves useful to others…and in which others make themselves useful to us.” He goes on with an example of a chair and how much goes into making the chair, from sourcing the materials to the tools needed to the logistics of delivery, as well as why we rely on others through their work. I use this when I teach marketing students supply chain, as Keller continues, “If we worked not forty but one-hundred-forty hours per week, we couldn’t make [for] ourselves from scratch all [that] we call our own.” Keller finishes this section with an apocalyptic view of humanity and culture, asking us to imagine what would happen if everyone just stopped working. Shelves go empty. Lights go out. The water stops running. As he states, “The difference between a wilderness and culture is simply work” (Keller, pp.

65-66).

Keller further discusses a ministry of competence, that it is not only the work but the way we perform it. By working well and striving for

30 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal excellence, we are not only serving, but loving others, and glorifying God in the process. Offering our work to God. “When you do that, you can be sure that the splendor of God radiates through any task…. As Eric Liddell’s missionary father exhorts him in Chariots of Fire, ‘You can praise the Lord by peeling a spud, if you peel it to perfection’” (p. 71).

We can also strive for excellence by living curiously. In Proverbs, the author implores us to gain wisdom and curiosity, the wonder we feel when seeking and discovering that which we do not know, is the basis of wisdom. We can strive for excellence by cultivating curiosity, in our disciplines, in others’ disciplines, in our work, in our lives, in the lives of others, We also know that in our sinful world, the excellence we seek needs to be tempered by mitigating the temptations of self-reliance and selffocus. We should seek to be excellent at what we do because God wants us to be. It doesn’t gain us a favor, but it is how we praise and glorify the living God. “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

—Philippians 4:8 (ESV) However, as a caution and perhaps a hope, we also need to realize that in our quest for excellence, we may not be successful. From Keller again. He uses a short story by J.R.R. Tolkien with a failed painter to illustrate this.

In the story, the painter has one picture that he envisions he will paint. And it’s a tree. That will be his life’s work, his beautiful picture of a wonderful tree and he will be known for his tree. But he is a perfectionist, and he only paints a leaf, a perfect leaf, “so no matter how hard he worked very little actually showed up on the Canvas.” He dies without ever finishing his tree. His perfect leaf is put on a wall and soon forgotten. In the short story, though, in Heaven, he has the opportunity to see his tree.

“Before him stood a tree, finished, exactly as he had envisioned it, and what a gift it was.” It was part of a true reality that would live on forever.

Keller writes that everyone is a painter. Everyone imagines accomplishing excellent things, and everyone wants to be successful rather than forgotten. Everyone has a vision for what they want to accomplish in this world, but for various reasons, we are incapable of these visions.

Everyone wants to be remembered for something grand, but, if this life is all there is, it will end, and everyone will eventually be forgotten, no one will have done anything to have made a difference, and “all good endeavors, even the best, will come to naught.”

“Unless there is a God,” Keller writes, “If the God of the Bible exists and there is a True Reality”—a bigger picture—“and this life is not the only life, then every good endeavor, pursued in response to God’s calling, can matter forever” (p. 14).

Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann 31 As we face days of feeling as if our work doesn’t matter, or our work is pointless, or our work is futile, we should cling to the promises of God and eternity: Whatever your work, you need to know this: There really is a tree. There is a God…and your work is showing it in part to others. Your work will be only partially successful, even on your best days, but inevitably, the whole tree that you seek…will come to fruition. (p. 15) We may not know until we get to Heaven what our work has wrought. We may sometimes feel futility, boredom, or stagnation in what we do, in our teaching, and in our research, but through the Gospel, we must also know that our small part in God’s story is meaningful, and it brings him glory.

I was richly blessed this summer with an email from a student a week or so after our class was over. This was from an online class, and I had never met the student in person: Just wanted to say thank you for your class and your Faith Integrations. The last one was about a girl saying she finally surrendered to the Lord. These words pierced my heart reading them. Echoed inside me, ‘I have areas that I have not surrendered to Him.’ There are so many days that I am pressing forward, prepared to fight and press ahead on the daily tasks and demands on my plate, but to surrender to God.... I have to stop fighting and striving, but instead kneel down with open palms up to him, rely on His strength, and go humbled. Your class made an impact on me. You have reminded me to surrender daily to Him. Each week you made me press closer to God. Be encouraged as you go into this semester. Share your stories in this blessed place, striving for excellence, with the promise of hope fulfilled.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” —Romans 8:28 (ESV) Amen!

32 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal References Crossway Bibles. (2016). ESV study Bible: English standard version.

Crossway Bibles.

Glanzer, P. L., Alleman, N. F., & Ream, T. C. (2017). Restoring the soul of the university: Unifying Christian higher education in a fragmented age. IVP Academic, an imprint of InterVarsity Press.

Keller, T., & Katherine Leary Alsdorf. (2016). Every good endeavor: Connecting your work to God’s work. Penguin Books.

Paramount Pictures. (2002). Star Trek, the next generation. Season 6.

Episode 15. [United States]: Paramount Pictures.

Paulette Guerin 33 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 33-56

Book Reviews Fullman, Joshua S. Voices of Iona. Resource Publications, 2022. 110 pages, $11.00 (paperback).

Reviewed by Paulette Guerin Joshua S. Fullman’s debut poetry collection Voices of Iona is layered with history, legend, and landscape informed by centuries of poetic tradition—a feast inspired by ballads, Old English alliterative verse and Chaucer as well as more contemporary writers such as Robert Frost and W.B. Yeats. An ale pairs best with tales of pilgrims, taverns, and the personal poems about Fullman’s years spent pursuing a PhD in Scotland. A mix of legend and historical fact, the figurative and literal, one’s inner geography and the land’s topography, in Voices of Iona we meet pilgrims in medias res and those who’ve found stillness. It’s a joy to see poetic traditions remade and continuing into the next millennium, modern design over ancient scaffolding.

The collection’s title pays homage to the isle of Iona off the Western coast of Scotland, where St. Columba founded a monastery in 563 to further the spread of Christianity. The collection acknowledges this history while also imagining various pilgrims throughout the ages. As Fullman previews in the Foreword, “each experience in these pieces is unique: some of them real and some mystical (though perhaps not less real); some are true and some fictional (though, too, perhaps not less true); and all of them are shared by someone who passed that way before” (xi). In “The Wall (II.),” we meet a Roman soldier whose brother was slain by “marauders / and their dark / Druid” (14). The soldier has heard of Christianity and that “Good men await a return by the power of a great god’s death” (14). Moving into legend, “Emhain Ablach” imagines Morgan le Fay bringing a dejected King Arthur a bowl of fried apples and encouraging him to “leave glory now to younger men” (32). In the collection’s opening poem, “Centuries on Dover,” Fullman writes about the kingdom of crumbling stones and sand shining transfigured in the mind, fractals of rememory where days

34 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal once lived, though not by us, stroll the banks again in holy contemplation. (1) In a land of ruins, history is knit to the landscape, even as the landscape outlives all: these cliffs will long survive barbaric claims—those who witnessed ………………………… the conqueror’s greed, the king’s bondage, and the poet’s farewell. (3) Pilgrimage is the collection’s center. As Fullman notes in the Foreword, “Pilgrimage should bring about reflection, meditation, contemplation, illumination; Iona would offer all this and more—a place, as Chaucer’s Parson’s Tale reminds us, for transformation” (ix). As for the poet’s own pilgrimage, Fullman admits that at first he did not realize that his studies in Scotland would constitute a pilgrimage, but the idea soon became a way to make meaning from the experience, a way for the pilgrim “to become something more” (x). The self is transformed, which also changes the life left behind.

In “Birdwatching,” he asks, “I wonder, / what home will be left when I return?” (9). The poet places himself in the tradition of pilgrims journeying to unknown lands, looking to the soil and its history for the sacred.

Fullman draws on how pilgrimage inhabits past, present, and future: “in pilgrimage, time and history continually fold back upon themselves as we follow the steps of others, often repeating a cycle that will come to fruition in us and in those who come after” (xi). Amid a multiplicity of persona poems come poems about the poet’s own journey, whether it’s “Culture Shock” and eating (unknowingly) blood pudding, or “Trans Migration,” when his son’s stroller hits uneven concrete and sends the child into the road: I scoop up his tears, hold him violently with fatherly impotence: we won’t always be pilgrims, I whisper, not always missing keys or lost coins. ……………….

So we grapple one another, the city plunging past, fire finding light in the dark.

And the pitch of our mutual tumult crescendos into a

Paulette Guerin 35

singularity. (12-13) Fullman’s verse thrives in the singularity of experience, those places layered with suffering and connection. He also offers a continuum of experience—the king and peasant, sins and the sacred, times of battle and peace, the dead and the living— sometimes within the same poem. Land has its legacy, with generations connected to it in varying ways. “Harvest Poem” opens with a father laying “his blade upon the earth,” a craft he’s learned “from countless years / In field” (87). In the second stanza, His son immerses himself in the soil, Content not merely to disperse his seed, But deftly plants each kernel to conceive A greater crop. His fingers, cracked and roiled, Run fresh with dirt and blood. No sympathy He seeks nor indulges a youthful angst, But dips his cup into the bag with pangs Of sorrow. (87) One cannot help but hear hints of Heaney’s “Digging” and the connection between the toil and faith of farmwork and poetry.

The poem ends with the final couplet: “For in the days to come when all’s dispersed, / Their labor’s fruit will fill exalted verse” (87).

Writing verse—telling stories crafted in poetic language—both preserves and elevates our daily, human existence. Fullman’s musical and measured language memorializes the stories of warriors, penitents, and searchers.

The collection ends with “Beyond Byzantium,” referencing Yeats’s poem and again pointing us to pilgrimage. If Yeats’s poem praises artifice, Fullman reminds that pilgrimage is “the stripping away of all artifice to discover the soul within,” a reminder “that man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions . . . that the offering of forgiveness and charity embodies Love in all its fullness” (x). Here, souls must move beyond Byzantium, rising above Earth as well as moving beyond the regiment of time: When sailing through the clouds the rule of feet Holds no more sway, no calculus by glove Or cubit. Distance here dissolves: beneath, The elements of earth hold firm; above, The convex dark sings taut as Pluto beats The sky; between them lies the cloven globe Where separated waters form a grace, An order glimpsed in each sunset we chase.

36 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal …………………………………………….

And though we’d fly beyond Byzantium, All riddles turned to rust as recompense, We’d never cut the knot nor solve the sum.

Could we break each horizon, pierce each dense Expanse, sense senseless forms, clutch cosmic crumbs, And seek new stars within the eminence, We’d know less how our faith has learned the good: That the world hangs on a few nails and wood. (94) Voices of Iona shows us a world in transition, a range of beliefs, and travelers earnestly searching. The hope of Christianity permeates these poems, but subtly, and sometimes from a place of its very early days. It’s easy to forget we’re all pilgrims—transient beings on earth—amid work and TV and paying bills. Rather than bury our vulnerability, we must acknowledge it, comforted that we are surrounded by other pilgrims and that perhaps the journey is leading somewhere, or could, if we were deliberate about where we fix our eyes.

Nomkita Chirunga-Cortez 37

Middleton, Darren J.N. The Writer and the Cross Interviews with Authors of Christian Historical Fiction. McFarland, 2022. 281 pages, $49.95 (paperback).

Reviewed by Nomkita Chirunga-Cortez Inspiration often comes from the oddest places. Some find that spark of inspiration from the tea leaves left at the bottom of a mug. Others may get struck with creativity after striking their toe on the bed post.

However one finds it, the need to bring those inspirational notes to life is the task of every creative. Darren Middleton found the inspiration for The Writer and the Cross from an odd source: Johnny Cash. The author had an eye-opening experience after reading Cash’s Man in White: “It motivated me to wonder not simply about Christian historical fiction, but also about the many and varied writers who use this genre to explore their own faith as well as their awareness of the development of Christian doctrine,” remarks Middleton (1). Thus came the inspiration for The Writer and the Cross, a book of interviews from twelve authors of Christian historical fiction.

From the outset, Middleton expresses his desire to compile a book that showcases authors of Christian historical fiction. The result is an entertaining collection of interviews with authors whose subjects span the breadth of Christian history dating from the Patristic Period up to the Modern era. Not all the selected works are biographic as the authors utilize varying viewpoints to introduce their historical figure to the audience— John Calvin as the antagonist is the readers’ introduction to him, and a couple’s journey to meet George Whitfield provides the background information on the pivotal revivalist. The collection of works contains a few formats not typically associated with historical fiction. Examples include Regina Doman’s graphic novel titled Pope Francis: I Believe in Mercy (2013) and William Wilson’s Bonhoeffer: A Screenplay (2018). The reviewed works range from children’s literature, Sinclair B. Ferguson’s Irenaeus of Lyons: The Man Who Wrote Books (2010), to a general audience.

Middleton explains his format for the collection by discussing two popular models used for distinguishing the timeline for Christian history.

He begins with N.T Wright’s view on the division of scripture as a five-act play in which we are in the fifth act—living out our salvation. Then, he moves to Alister E. McGrath’s model which he chose to adopt because it neatly sets the progression of church history in four distinct periods: Patristic, Middle Ages, Reformation, and Modern. Middleton selected three books for each section, giving the reader twelve authors to explore as they move through the progression of time. He proceeds to explain how he landed on this set of authors to interview by seeking out those who are

38 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal emerging or lesser known in the industry. Essentially, the lineup of authors hails from a variety of faith backgrounds who depict their historical figure in differing genres.

The format of The Writer and the Cross is easy for the reader to follow as it progresses through church history’s timeline. Each chapter begins with an introduction that provides background information on the author, insight into the period the work is set in, small biographic information on the person the book is based on, and a personal reflection from Middleton about the author or the selected work. Middleton’s use of the Q&A approach gives the book a natural feel allowing the reader to get to know the author. Instead of asking the same questions for each author, Middleton selects topics that are specific to the author’s life experiences.

By asking questions related to work-life balance, one’s spiritual journey, and the writing process, Middleton enables his readers to develop a deep understanding of the individual authors’ stories and struggles. By expounding on the writing process, Middleton allows his readers to develop an awareness of its major components: plot development, research, editing, and publishing.

A few of the authors demonstrate the relevance of their historical figure for today’s reader. For instance, Caroline Coleman writes of Kierkegaard’s manic episodes which brings awareness to mental health issues. Arlen K. Stubbe highlights Chrysostom’s emphasis on social justice, enabling the reader to contemplate on current social and political issues.

William Wilson demonstrates Bonhoeffer’s commitment to his fellow man and to protecting one’s Christian witness in all situations.

Middleton sprinkles in light-hearted, yet informative, novels like Ferguson’s children’s novel, Irenaeus of Lyons. Other novels reveal the social hierarchy and inequalities associated with each subject’s era. For instance, Mary Sharrat’s story on St. Hildegard von Bingen tells of how she toiled to provide a better way for the nuns in her charge. And Douglas Bond stresses the persecution of Protestants in his portrayal of John Calvin as told through the thoughts of his nemesis. The collection includes novels with deep theological insights such as Lynne Basham Tagawa’s The Shenandoah Road: A Novel of the Great Awakening (2018). Tagawa’s novel follows the discussions of a young couple on their journey to see the revivalist, George Whitfield.

Although Middleton’s book provides a thorough examination of Christian historical fiction, the typeset is difficult to overcome. The font is a little small which serves as a deterrent to reading the book. Nevertheless, the flow of the interviews and the length of the chapters makes the font issue digestible. Moreover, the engaging conversation between interviewer and interviewee piques one’s curiosity to read on. From a precautionary perspective, however, a reader without a theological background may find some of the terminology difficult to understand and may get lost in the conversation. As Regina Doman stated when asked about prevenient grace, “I actually have never heard of that term” (220). However, some discussions necessitate theological jargon. For instance, discussing John

Nomkita Chirunga-Cortez 39 Calvin is difficult to do without referencing divine sovereignty and human depravity. And understanding the important contributions of Athanasius to the early church necessitates discussion of Christian doctrine, Arianism, and the Council of Nicaea.

The Writer and the Cross is an enjoyable book filled with interviews that are entertaining. Middleton asks thought-provoking questions for each author, allowing their personalities to shine through as each response unveils the author’s heart and passion for their topic, their genre, and audience. The reader can form a variety of opinions and draw conclusions regarding the authors’ viewpoints on Christian historical fiction. One interesting observation is that most of the authors were Catholic, which begs the question, are authors of other faith backgrounds writing Christian historical fiction? If so, who are they? However, the wealth of resources listed at the end of each chapter and in the bibliography will bolster book collections for years to come. Biblical students, theologians, and Christians wanting to find creative ways to digest complicated theological themes will appreciate the interview discussions and the publications noted throughout Middleton’s book.

40 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

Aleshire, Daniel O. Beyond Profession: The Next Future of Theological Education. Eerdmans, 2021.

176 pages, $20.99 (paperback) Reviewed by C. Clark Triplett Daniel Aleshire served as the Executive Director of the Association of Theological Schools (ATS) for nineteen years from 1998 to 2017. He has extensive experience with theological education as a theological student, seminary professor, serving on the staff of ATS, and finally as Director.

Over three decades, he has observed or played a part in many significant changes in religious practices, denominational and ecclesiastical structures, and higher education. At the same time, theological education has been substantially affected by these shifts in religious and academic life: The number and kinds of theological schools changed. While many new schools were founded, some old schools closed or merged with other institutions. New religions and ethnic constituencies gained numeric strength as others declined, and correspondingly, the number of students from minoritized racial and ethnic groups increased while the number of white students decreased. (9) This work on theological education provides a brief but detailed survey of where theological education has been in its various divisions of mainline, Catholic, and evangelical institutions as well as historically black institutions. In the process of reviewing the past, he “uncovers” an even older model of theological education that provides a hint for developing a model for the next generation in what he describes as formational theological education. In the first chapter, Aleshire relates some of the details of his own personal journey of theological education. Although he grew up in a pietistic tradition that valued the devotional aspects of Christianity, he felt he gave him a limited perspective on the broader tradition of Christian spirituality and other Christian writings such as Saint John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, Thomas Merton, John Woolman, John Bunyan, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer who gave him a more nuanced understanding of the faith. Even critical scholars such as Rudolf Bultmann provided important insights about how to understand the future to which Christians are called despite many problems with this theology.

One of the important implications of theological education which the author learned in his own experience is the value of the intense process of study and learning in the Christian tradition. Scholarship and learning are intrinsic to the Christian faith even though it is not without its problems. While most groups within the church have respect for the importance of higher education, others have been skeptical because

C. Clark Triplett 41 critical scholarship can challenge the validity of faith: “[F]or some people the only way the word is ‘rightly divided’ is when it confirms what they already believe” (13). Critical learning generates complexity in thinking and thus invites questions that sometimes lead to new interpretations of theology and Scripture rather than accepting what has always been approved: “Learning complicates believing, and if the greatest Christian virtue is to be ‘absolutely sure’ of something, then learning is not necessarily a friend of faith” (13). This does not necessarily mean a new understanding is against the truth of Christianity. In fact, it may provide a clearer understanding that deepens the student’s understanding of faith.

According to Aleshire, theological education as it has been traditionally defined (1) is a postbaccalaureate education for religious leaders and others pursuing theological studies that (2) offers a theological curriculum including a range of theological disciplines, (3) is oriented to educational goals of knowledge and competence, and (4) has been characterized by educational practices of degree-granting schools accountable to standards of quality in higher education. However, this definition has come under increasing suspicion particularly when considering who students should be and what should be studied—the practices that are most appropriate, the places where education occurs, and the quality of the educational effort that is assessed. The question is whether this traditional model is still valid for current congregations and for contemporary culture. How does this work in the context of new approaches to pedagogy such as online and distance education and the importance of community and interpersonal interaction?

Aleshire provides several examples of how existing and new seminaries are dealing with changes in the educational climate.

In the lengthiest and most detailed chapter of the book, the author provides a summary of the development of theological schools in the United States as they were founded by immigrant communities. It looks at theological schools in the context of mainline Protestant, Roman Catholic, evangelical Protestant, and historically black schools, and the presence of racial/ethnic communities. The schools within each group are not homogeneous and may differ from each other significantly although they are more like the schools in their group than those outside.

Mainline Protestant theological education predates the distinction between mainline and evangelical. The history of Protestant theological education was interesting and complex. The earliest schools were based on the English college model, steeped in classical subjects and language which “perpetuated the influence of elite and aristocratic classes” (32).

This led to the establishment of some of the most elite and established educational institutions in the nation including Harvard and Princeton.

Not everyone was educated this way. After the Great Awakening, many Baptist and Methodist pastors gained their training through apprenticeships with more experienced pastors.

In the nineteenth century, theological education gradually moved from colleges and universities to specialized theological schools. The first

42 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal free-standing seminary was Andover in Massachusetts which later became Andover Newton Seminary founded by the Congregationalists. These freestanding seminaries led to two important developments: 1) a more specialized theological curriculum and 2) the removal of theological studies from the intellectual agenda that universities pursued. In a matter of a few decades, the free-standing denominational seminary would become the dominant form for the education of ministers for Congregationalists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, and Baptists. As a result of each denomination developing its own seminaries, “large social distances were created from small doctrinal differences” (35).

The twentieth century brought both tragedy and triumph to the mainline seminaries and churches. As the administrative and academic structures of seminaries matured, a professional model emerged that prepared ministers to take their place among other professionals such as law and medicine. Accreditation of higher education was adapted for specialized schools including theological institutions.

In 1936 the Conference of Theological Schools voted to become an accrediting body named the American Association of Theological Schools. At the same time, one of the greatest struggles of American Protestantism emerged, the modernist-fundamentalist controversy. Most of the schools connected with mainline Protestantism had adopted critical methods in the study of Scripture even though in some cases it happened with a great deal of resistance. This led to the development of several alternative seminaries and splinter Protestant denominations: The American Association of Theological Schools voted to begin accreditation in the 1930s, when the controversy was over. While the rhetoric and most of the reality of this action were related to educational issues, it is not a coincidence that almost all the schools initially accredited were related to the religious bodies on the ‘modernist’ side.” (38) For a while after World War II, Protestant congregations grew and mainline seminaries showed increased enrollments. But for some reason that has been studied at great length, the trend shifted, and mainline churches and seminaries began to decline. Many of these seminaries have been able to continue despite enrollments because of significant endowments. Some of the institutions in urban areas have the financial resources and imaginative leadership to continue to serve the religious communities they serve, but others who are in rural areas will find it difficult to survive. These institutions may not have the opportunity to make the kind of changes necessary to continue.

John Carroll was ordained the first bishop of the single Catholic diocese in America in 1789. One of his greatest desires was to establish a college for the education of youth as well as a seminary for future clergymen. At the time there were no Catholic theological scholars in

C. Clark Triplett 43 America, but the Society of Saint Sulpice in France which was dedicated to operating diocesan seminaries agreed to send several French scholars to Baltimore in 1791. St. Mary’s Seminary and University was the first freestanding Catholic theological school in the United States. Roman Catholic seminaries operated differently than Protestant institutions because they were under the direct control of the bishop. The Catholic education of priests was also different in terms of the pedagogical strategies used. They emphasized spirituality and working within the institutional church.

Protestant theological education tended to be more academic because of its earlier roots in colleges and universities.

By 1842, twenty-two Catholic seminaries enrolled 277 seminarians.

Throughout the nineteenth century, the Catholic church expanded exponentially in the United States because of immigration. The difference with Catholic immigrants was that they were not immigrating because of protests with Rome. These immigrants were concentrated in ethnic neighborhoods with shared languages and social structures. Most neighborhoods had a parish church with a parish school. This helped shape the Catholic subculture until after World War II. During this time of growth in the church, there was also an increase in the number of schools for the preparation of the priesthood. Some seminaries were established for diocesan priests and others for various orders such as the Benedictines, Dominicans, and Franciscans which provided a somewhat diverse educational system for priests.

The emphasis in Catholic seminaries was to train priests “who know how to do their job well and do it with spiritual sensitivity and holiness….”

(45-46). So, the seminary was not considered primarily as an intellectual culture but designed to impart professional knowledge that prepared students to become “expert catechists, rubricists, and casuists, and its aim is to do this, and whatever mental improvement, if any, thence results, is accidental” (45).

Early on, the structure for priestly training included minor and major seminaries. The minor seminary was a six-year program for adolescents and boys. The major seminary was a six-year program following education in the minor seminary. However, after World War II, great changes occurred in the Catholic church.

During the war, Protestants, Catholics, and Jews fought alongside each other in a common struggle. Many soldiers came home and were able to use the G.I. Bill to pursue higher education and move to neighborhoods that no longer comprised particular ethnic groups. The most definitive twentieth-century event was Vatican II where virtually everything in religious life was changed for Catholics. This included Optatum Totius which served as the Council’s decree regarding priestly education. This gave bishops the authority to develop seminaries to meet local needs. After the Council, the system of minor and major seminaries was replaced with college seminaries that granted baccalaureate degrees and theologates of graduate seminaries with master’s degrees. By 1968, fifteen Catholic seminaries had begun the accreditation process with what is now the Association of

44 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Theological Schools Commission of Accrediting (ATS). Although the number of Catholic seminaries has remained stable, the number of priests has declined by almost forty percent and so seminaries have seen a decline in enrollments.

Evangelical seminaries are latecomers in the field of theological education even though many of the characteristics of these institutions such as the authority of Scripture, evangelism, and personal conversion were part of the nature of nineteenth-century mainline Protestantism.

Fault lines began to develop at the end of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century as evangelical institutions were founded. However, the overwhelming majority of institutions started after World War II. In 2018, evangelical schools made up 124 of the 280 ATS members enrolling 65 percent of the students. As already indicated, the modernistfundamentalist controversy led to the formation of several seminaries such as Westminster Presbyterian Seminary whose faculty left Princeton Theological Seminary, Northern Baptist Theological Seminary in Chicago as a reaction to liberalism in the Northern Baptist Convention, and the University of Chicago Divinity School. The struggle contributed to other schools, including Western Seminary in Oregon and Denver Theological Seminary in Colorado. Many institutions established after World War II have continued to hold to conservative theology while abandoning the oppositional, fundamentalist postures of earlier resistance movements.

One of the most powerful movements of the twentieth century began in 1906 in Los Angeles which signaled the beginning of the charismatic movement. By the end of the twentieth century, it had spawned several new denominations such as the Assemblies of God, the Church of God in Christ, and the United Pentecostal Church. These movements have led to the development of denominational and/or independent seminaries such as Oral Roberts Graduate School of Theology, Pentecostal Theological Seminary, Assemblies of God Theological Seminary, Regent University School of Divinity, and Urshan Graduate School of Theology, all of which have been accredited since 1960.

Evangelical seminaries are a diverse collection of institutions.

Some have been around since the early twentieth century in reaction to modernism and others as conservative denominations have seen the need for higher levels of education for their ministers. They are made up of a broad group of Christian churches: Baptist, Presbyterian, Reformed, Wesleyan, Pentecostal, Lutheran, and nondenominational.

Many evangelical seminaries have many of the same characteristics as other Protestant schools including accredited graduate degrees, qualified faculty, and similar administrative structures. One of the differences is that a number of evangelical seminaries were founded as nondenominational institutions such as Dallas, Fuller, and Gordon-Conwell. As a result, they are often funded by student tuition and individual gifts from donors. They often do not have the endowments that mainline Protestant institutions have accumulated over the years. This makes them very sensitive to changes in enrollments from year to year.

C. Clark Triplett 45 Even though evangelical institutions have outpaced mainline seminaries in the last half century, enrollments in these institutions have begun to level off and slightly decline: An increase in the number of schools over a fifty-year period combined with the initial decline in evangelical Protestants and the saturation of the evangelical student market will require these schools to change the way they address financial needs. (63) Evangelicals are finding that the pie is being sliced thinner and thinner and with more and more students defining themselves as “unaffiliated,” they may need to find new strategies for attracting students.

Historically, black institutions began in two times and places, after two different wars, according to Aleshire. Shortly after the Civil War, a facility in Richmond, Virginia, was purchased to educate black ministers, now known as the Samuel D. W. H. Proctor School of Theology of Virginia Union University. It has provided an education for African-American pastors for more than a century and is one of the largest historically black institutions in America. The second beginning was in Philadelphia shortly after the Revolutionary War. The founding of Bethel Methodist Church by a former slave and the subsequent formation of the African Methodist Episcopal Church (AME). The AME eventually founded Payne Theological Seminary of Wilberforce University in 1891 in Wilberforce, Ohio, a stop on the route of the Underground Railroad.

Although all African-American schools are Protestant, they do not really fit well within either the mainline or evangelical camp. This is partially the case because blacks were never a part of the pews and altars of white churches in the history of America. They were consistently separated from white religious places of worship. They were also not admitted to white schools such as Virginia Theological Seminary or the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary until after World War II. Currently, there are six historically black schools accredited by ATS. At the same time, traditionally white seminaries have experienced an increase in minority students from ten percent in the 1970s to thirty-five percent presently. While evangelical institutions have larger Asian enrollments as well as a significant number of Hispanic students, they have relatively low enrollments of African Americans even though their conservative theology fits that of historically black churches. Mainline seminaries enroll the largest percentage of African American students perhaps because they have more minority faculty and directly address issues of African American communities.

Aleshire believes that the current reality for minority students in both mainline and evangelical seminaries is that they still must contend with predominantly white student bodies and faculty and so must navigate as a minority in a white majority culture:

46 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal The white culture of most theological schools requires students of color to learn not only the theological subjects but also the culture of the school, and become adept at codeswitching to thrive in school and in the contexts they will serve—most often in a racial/ethnic community of faith. (68) The issue of race and minority needs will become much more dominant in years to come if present trends continue. It may be, as Aleshire argues, that persons of color will constitute the majority of students in theological seminaries in the future.

The recommendation for the “next” future of theological education was mentioned early on in this review. It is an approach that is focused on in the early church and articulated in Titus 1:7-9 and 2 Timothy 3:2-7.

These are characteristics that are fundamentally important for people who lead communities of faith. This emphasis on the character of the leader and the value of instilling these qualities in ministerial candidates is what Aleshire proposes as the “formational” approach to theological education and even though it is in one sense an older model, it is the next direction in the context of declining enrollments and the changing cultural attitudes toward religion and the church. The formation is understood in a particular way by the Association of Theological Schools: “A theological school is a community of faith and learning that cultivates habits of theological reflection, nurtures wise and skilled ministerial practice, and contributes to the formation of spiritual awareness and moral sensitivity” (79). This has implications for the design of the curriculum and pastoral practices in seminaries that provide a coherent and formative aim.

So, it is evident that this concept of formational education is not new to Christian education. John H. Westerhoff talks about Christian education as a way of life that is about “fashioning Christians,” and formation is a way of developing Christian consciousness and “participation in and practice of the Christian life of faith. We do that by identifying with a community, observing how persons in it live, and imitating them” (Westerhoff 267).

Interestingly, Roman Catholic institutions have used formation as the primary approach to theological education for a long time. Formation is a holistic way of learning that recognizes that learning is much more than cognitive methods. Rather, it is a process in which certain kinds of thinking, feeling, and acting are emphasized. Medieval scholars used the word habitus to describe an orientation of the soul towards wisdom that includes “contemplation, discursive reasoning, affections, and actions that comprise a Christian life” (81). This is the study of divinity, a form of piety that emphasizes the many ways to know God. This process of formation results in a number of goals including spiritual and moral maturity, relational integrity, knowledge of Scripture and tradition, and the capacity to exercise religious leadership.

Aleshire makes a strong case for how this approach to theological education serves the needs of the church, reflects the current realities of

C. Clark Triplett 47 the cultural context, and addresses the contemporary issues of higher education. He believes that many of the critiques of the church and the larger culture are not the result of a failure of theological education in the past. They reflect a particular time which reminds us that the world is always changing. The next moment in the history of the church and culture demands some strategies that are not completely new but need to be brought to the fore right now in new forms. The author considers the work of Miraslov Volf and his collaborator Justin Crisp who contend that part of the renewal of theology entails a recovery of the union of what the theologians teach and the life they lead, or least aspire to lead. The “execution of the central theological task requires a certain kind of affinity between the life the theologian seeks to articulate and the life the theologian seeks to lead.” (105) Aleshire mentions several theological institutions that demonstrate a formational approach to theological education in completely different ways. This reviewer was fortunate to visit two of these institutions as an accreditation consultant-evaluator and attest to the uniqueness of their educational programs. Two of those mentioned include St. Meinrad Archabbey and Seminary and Wesley Seminary on the campus of Indiana Wesleyan University. Although the structures and strategies of each institution were different, they achieved the formative goals that are important to move into the next future of theological education. At St. Meinrad, the idea and practice of priestly formation is integrated throughout every part of the program: “Each (candidate) had a spiritual formation director, worked with a human formator, and was evaluated annually by faculty and formation staff” (108). The sense of God’s calling and their commitment to ministry seems to be the center of all that they discuss and do while in seminary.

Wesley Seminary is completely different in that the curriculum is designed so that courses are taught online, and they combine traditional theological disciplines with practical applications to ministry in each course. Students participate in cohort groups and come to campus for weeklong intensive sessions. Each student is required to be working at least half the time in some ministerial context. Students know each other well even though they spend most of their time off campus. When interviewed, they were positive about the program because it was practical and gave them the opportunity to complete seminary while being immersed in church work as ministers. So even though the process was different than St. Meinrad, the students at Wesley were being formed and changed in a way that prepared them for ministry. In both programs, a formational approach is evident as students understand God’s call in their lives which makes them available to be formed in faith as they respond to that call.

48 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal As Aleshire demonstrates throughout the later chapters of the book, formational theological education is already occurring in different ways and is the future of theological education. This book is an excellent survey of where theological education has been and where it is going in the future.

Daniel Aleshire is someone who should know based on his experience as the Executive Director of the Association of Theological Schools. His call to return to an “older model” of the early church and its expectations of the qualities of faithful ministers of the faith is significant considering many of the suspicions about the moral qualities of pastors and priests in the church today. The focus on formational theological education provides a way for churches and theological traditions that are often in conflict to agree on the importance of the spiritual and moral qualities as well as relations skills of the leaders in the church. This hopefully offers a way forward for the future of the Christian church and theological education as a whole as it deals with declining attendance enrollments and a culture that has become less interested in particular church denominations. This is a book about what theological education ought to be about. As Aleshire emphasizes, it is more than just professional preparation but instead a place where a “deep, abiding, resilient, generative identity as Christian human beings” is developed in future leaders in the Christian church (140). These characteristics which are borrowed from the early church but are clothed in new forms are crucial for the future of the church and theological education. Aleshire believes this is the kind of formative theological education current and future ministers need to meet the moral and spiritual challenges of a more secularized and polarized society.

Work Cited Westerhoff, John H. “Fashioning Christians in Our Day.” In Hauerwas, Stanley, and John H. Westerhoff. Eds. Schooling Christians: “Holy Experiments” in American Education. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992.

C. Clark Triplett 49

Swaner, Lynn E., and Andy Wolfe. Flourishing Together: A Christian Vision for Students, Educators & Schools. Eerdmans, 2021. 310 pages, $24.99 (paperback).

Reviewed by C. Clark Triplett There have been a number of recent works on the importance of flourishing in the Christian life over the last few years. Theologian Miroslav Volf has published two books including Flourshing: Why We Need Religion in a Globalized World (2015), and along with Matthew Croasman, For the Life of the World: Theology that Makes a Difference (2019). Flourishing is defined as “the life that is lived well, the life that goes well, and the life that feels good—all three together, inextricably intertwined … ‘life worth living’” (Volf ix). Although the term is currently popular, it is not one that was used very often in the past in Christian circles. Perhaps it sounded too frivolous. Volf and Croasmun, however, believe that the flourishing life is the” fundamental Christian question,” often neglected, but more important than ever. In fact, these theologians feel the concept so important that it should be “the main purpose of theology: discerning, articulating, and commending accounts of the true life, summed up for us in the image of ‘God’s home among humans’” (Volf and Croasmun 8).

In their recent book Flourishing Together: A Christian Vision for Students, Educators & Schools, Lynn Swaner and Andy Wolfe make the concept of flourishing the center of Christian education by raising the question, how do students, educators, and schools flourish? As the book reveals, this is a question that covers a lot of territory including student life, learning processes, resources, curriculum, purpose, and well-being, to name a few. Both authors are individuals deeply involved in leadership development and strategies in Christian schools. Lynn Swaner is the Chief Strategy and Innovation Officer at the Association of Christian Schools International (ACSI) and leads the Flourishing Schools Research Project, and Andy Wolfe is the Deputy Chief Education Officer (leadership development) for the Church of England Foundation for Educational Leadership. Each represents a large constituency of Christian schools including five-thousand schools in forty-one dioceses of the Church of England and a rather diverse group (2300) of Baptist, Reformed, Presbyterian, Pentecostal, Mennonite, Episcopal, and Independent schools in the United States along with 25,000 affiliated schools in over 100 countries around the world.

The origin of this book grew out of a common question related to Jesus’ claim that he came to bring abundant life. So how does this statement of Jesus get worked out in the life of students and educators in Christian schools? After traveling throughout the United States, the

50 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia visiting schools and speaking with leaders, teachers, and students as well as dialoguing with university faculty, the ideas for this book started to germinate. It was through this journey and the research of the Flourishing Schools Research Project and other research that the work of Flourishing Together came to fruition.

The goal of the book is to provide Christian educators in particular some strategies and resources to assist in the process of educational flourishing. As indicated earlier, this emphasis draws on Jesus’ words “I came to give life—life in all its fullness” (John 10:10). The idea of flourishing was introduced as early as the writings of Aristotle and his use of the word eudaimonia meaning “doing and living well.” The authors indicate that some of their ideas about flourishing were shaped by discussions with and readings of contemporary theologians such as David Ford of Cambridge University, Steven Garber, Chancelor of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and Nicholas Wolterstorff, Professor Emeritus of Philosophical Theology at Yale University. The orientation and applications within the book are also shaped by extensive research as is reflected in each chapter, but specifically in the first chapter of each section.

The concept of flourishing in this book rests on three principles (3 Cs): called to flourish, connected to flourish, and committed to flourish.

These principles are taken from David Ford and Andy Wolfe’s book Called, Committed, Connected: 24 Leadership Practices for Educational Leaders published by the Church of England Education Office in 2020. These principles are based on the Biblical narrative with both theological and ethical implications. Scripture has from the beginning portrayed human life as one in which God intends for men and women to flourish as the end of creation. So, humans are “called” to flourish, a goal worthy of life’s work that produces fulness and meaning as it is pursued. Educators are called to provide a context that allows students and schools to flourish.

But educators are not only called they are also “connected,” the vision of Christian flourishing can only occur in a context of interconnectedness: “Schools are not simply collections of discrete programs and classrooms run by individuals who operate independently of each other” (5). Rather, institutions of learning involve a “web of relationships” that include teachers, students, leaders, families, and members of the community.

Mutuality is not necessarily a natural posture for either public or Christian schools which often must compete for resources and academic achievement. However, competition is considered incompatible with educational flourishing. This approach requires “commitment” to the idea of flourishing for the long haul—it needs a “long horizon.” Learning takes time and is filled with challenges and obstacles that require perseverance and commitment: [T]he journey of flourishing is often circuitous rather than direct—meaning that students may look very much like they may be ‘failing’ at something, but if given the opportunity to

C. Clark Triplett 51 grow through setbacks, they can acquire important skills like patience and build essential capacities like resilience. (6).

According to Swaner and Wolfe, flourishing must be seen as a process that requires commitment in the context of collective and mutual activities.

These principles that provide the foundation for flourishing in Christian education may seem counter to many common practices in educational institutions from the packaging of standardized curricular content into discrete units, linking budgets measured by gains in test performances, or competing for scarce resources. Much of the research that shows up in this book goes against common notions and practices found in market-driven approaches that drive some institutions.

Flourishing requires education to push beyond the illusions of many current approaches that shape practices in schools to adopt practices that lead to what it means to flourish as human beings.

The book draws heavily on the research from the Flourishing Schools Research Initiative which included approximately 15,000 students, family members, alumni, leaders, teachers, staff, and board members in Christian schools in the United States and English-instruction international schools. This research identified five areas or “domains” that were categorized from the outcomes related to flourishing educators, students, and schools. These domains provide the framework for the five parts of the book, including the following: 1. Purpose. This domain relates to outcomes that consider why students, teachers, and staff are on a path to flourishing. It considers the idea of calling and vocation and the common purpose of a school and its educators that leads to a “greater good” that the community aspires to together.

2. Relationships. Flourishing depends on who educators and students are within the community. “Human relationships are not a means to an impersonal end but the ends themselves are human—specifically flourishing humans” (62). The importance of caring for one another as students, teachers, and families determines the level of flourishing. A sense of belonging is key to providing a context for flourishing.

3. Learning. This is the center of what institutions are about, but the quality of the learning is linked not only to student outcomes but also to the quality of educator development.

Learning together as a “community of practice” where everybody shares a passion for what they do.

4. Resources. Schools are places that are occupied by real people, and where real people meet is important.

Flourishing is related to access to physical, technological, and human resources. At the same time, these include paying attention to both good stewardship and generosity

52 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal when it comes to resources. Competitiveness does not lead to an attitude of sharing and caring for the other.

5. Well-being. Finally, the physical and emotional health of students, teachers, and leaders who need to develop healthy habits and resilience, particularly during difficult and challenging times is critical to how schools flourish.

Flourishing schools prioritize well-being.

The book is divided into five parts following the five domains previously discussed, and each part consists of three chapters, which move from research to practice. The first chapter focuses on research, the second looks at the domains through the lens of Scripture/theology, and the third helps the reader to reimagine practical possibilities through reflections related to educators, students, and schools.

The reader will find that throughout this book and across various domains research outcomes show results that are quite often counterintuitive to what many schools, including Christian schools, consider successful. Much of the research comes from the Flourishing Schools Research Project, but the writers also draw on other research and practices in the field of education. From this research, the authors suggest strategies that they hope will help organizations “to move forward” in the development of a culture that leads to flourishing. As already indicated, these strategies are in the service of a vision of “what should be” in Christian education. A Christian narrative is created based on five key biblical and theological images that come up in the second chapter of each section including the following images or metaphors: zoe, abiding in the vine, questions, bread, and jars of clay. These images become the overriding Christian framework for what it means to flourish as a Christian and in Christian education.

The remainder of this review will briefly look at several of the most interesting strategies suggested by the authors in the various sections of the book. These strategies are meant to provide a pathway toward a flourishing life for students, educators, leaders, families, and the community. As has already been indicated, each one of the sections in the book focuses on one of the domains identified in the research. The first section focuses on purpose which should be the starting point for all Christian educators. It deals with the why of Christian education. For most Christian schools, the purpose will be rooted in a biblical worldview or at least a Christian vision but must be more than just a statement. It must be an integrated responsibility that includes “sustaining stories, habits, routines, patterns of practice out of which to live and teach” (21).

Imagination is a key component in connecting the school’s purpose to its practices that may require rethinking and redesigning projects, programs, and spaces. This practical purposeful approach to learning will help shape a culture where students can thrive. Research identifies “holistic thinking” as an important aspect of student flourishing. This means teaching involves the heart, mind, and body: “A Christian vision for educational

C. Clark Triplett 53 flourishing holds that an education which does not attend to all dimensions of human experience is ‘impoverished,’ because it fails to serve the holistic educational needs of students” (22).

Flourishing relationships is the focus of the second section of the book which describes schools as more than just a collection of buildings and classrooms with several teachers and leaders doing their own thing. A school is an ecosystem with many moving parts that are continually interacting with each other. Many schools function with an emphasis on managing students in the classroom so that some students increase their “social capital” at a good college or good job. These transactions have their place, but according to Swaner and Wolfe, “[h]uman relations are not a means to an end, but the ends themselves are human—specifically, flourishing humans” (62). Research shows that flourishing schools build multiple relationships that include a “four-legged table” of school, church, family, and community. There is clear evidence that there are positive correlations between flourishing and leaders engaged with the surrounding community resources that share with other schools. This is in contrast with previous approaches of some Christian schools that have raised barriers to the community at large. They are often institutions that practice a form of exclusion that puts them at a disadvantage for student achievement and spiritual formation, which research also confirms. The writers argue strongly that Christian schools must do the hard work of “squaring this unavoidable reality with the fact that Jesus’s ministry was inclusive and engaging—sometimes scandalously so” (65).

The third section on learning makes the case that learning that flourishes should be deeply purposeful and relational so that schools develop “communities of practice” where students learn within a larger context of educator learning. Research on flourishing looks at how students learn best and what they ought to learn. The research shows that engaged learning is linked to good student outcomes. This relates to more active, collaborative, learner-centered, and student-directed approaches as well as broadening the scope of learning from the cognitive to social, cultural, spiritual, and physical dimensions. An outcome of the research that is closely linked to engagement is the idea that when students believe that what they are doing is important and have clear goals, they are more likely to interact with interest and more likely to retain what is provided in class. This relates back to what teachers feel is important and interesting and their willingness to engage with students in the process of learning together.

While sections four and five on resources and well-being are equally significant in terms of strategies and applications based on research, it will have to suffice in this review to focus on one area of the Focusing Schools Research that is particularly important in student flourishing. The journey toward an abundant life is not always positive. There are many pressures on students to succeed not only in making good grades, but also in physical appearance, fitting in socially, and involvement in sports and extra-curricular activities. “While these pressures are certainly not new

54 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal for adolescents, they are compounded for this generation through the influence of social media; according to the Prince’s Trust in the United Kingdom, more than half of youth (57 percent) believe social media exerts an ‘overwhelming’ pressure ‘to succeed’” (218). Following this, the Flourishing Schools Research identified resilience as an important trait linked to student well-being. The ability to work through difficult situations, face adversity, and develop academic and social competence leads to higher levels of performance and greater opportunities to thrive.

Therefore, it is important for schools to develop services such as traumainformed education as well as other student services to appropriately care for students in need. Research also links other-oriented students and educators with a context for flourishing: “When students are oriented toward serving, loving, and caring for others, it grounds them in purposefilled, authentic, real-world work” (219). This disposition demonstrates that flourishing and well-being are more than just the absence of illness and bad luck. Life is complicated and filled with challenges. Flourishing schools prepare students to not only face the challenges of life but to become a part of a community of healing that contributes to collective flourishing.

This timely book by Swaner and Wolfe on developing a flourishing Christian education program provides significant research, thoughtful questions, and helpful strategies based on a Christian vision of education.

In a time when schools are pressured by certain professional standards and competition for scarce resources, Flourishing Together offers a refreshing incarnational vision of abundant life even in the context of a broken world. The authors attempt to realistically answer the question, why are we educating children? And how is Christian education significantly different than any other kind of learning? Current research is showing that students are turning more and more to activism, volunteerism, and community outreach around important issues such as the environment, diversity, and mental health, to name a few. Regardless of what kind of school they attend, it is important to show how shared flourishing based on a Christian vision may be able to offer something unique to the field of education. This book gives readers a glimpse of the possibilities of the riches of the biblical narrative as it is articulated through the process of learning. This work calls educators, students, and school leaders to an imaginative way of learning that leads to a flourishing life.

Works Cited Volf, Miroslav. Flourishing: Why We Need Religion in a Globalized World. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015. _______, and Matthew Croasmun. For the Life of the World: Theology that Makes a Difference. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2019.

John Zheng 55

Sens, Jean-Mark. Angels & Visitors. Wipf & Stock, 2022. 98 pages, $13.00 (paperback) Reviewed by John Zheng Jean-Mark Sens, from France, has been a diligent poet with different roles in the past three decades in the United States: an English instructor, a culinary teacher, an academic librarian, and a monk at Mepkin Abbey and at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans. Wherever he goes or whatever job he has, poetry is his faithful companion.

Sens’s first collection of poetry is Appetite, published by Red Hen Press. It presents a variety of sensual food through the effective interplay of images to satiate the visual appetite. Much like Appetite, Angels & Visitors, his second poetry collection, offers food as well, but it’s food for the soul. The collection, as the introduction asserts, has two focuses: angels and visitors, as indicated by the book title. It refers to a well-known quotation from Hebrews 13.2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” It shows the poet’s journey to find angels, to function as an angel, and to approach nature, human nature, and supernature with spiritual communication. The influence can be traced to Sens’s early years when he first read Concerning the Angels, a poetry book by the Spanish poet Rafael Alberti, as well as to his more recent reading of Angels and Demons by Peter Kreeft, a professor of philosophy at Boston College. According to Kreeft, there are twelve most important things about angels. The very first one concerns their existence.

He says, “They are as real as your dog, or your sister, or electricity” (https://peterkreeft.com/topics/angels.htm). Another one is that “there are evil angels, fallen angels, demons, or devils.” The next important thing to know about angels is that “[a]ngels are aware of you, even though you can’t usually see or hear them. But you can communicate with them. You can talk to them without even speaking.”

Inspired by both Rafael Alberti and Peter Kreeft, Sens’s Angels & Visitors, as he puts it, is a flow “from a desire to encounter the sacred on the level of the life-giving anima (‘soul’).” While resonating with Christian glory, Sens’s angels also appear as human messengers in the mundane world, as in “Hungry Monk”: The hungry Brother is the one—whodunit— came to the deserted refectory with cravings under his capuche, taste of salt, infinite whiteness touching God. or as an angel that symbolizes the cycle of nature with the leaves falling for the return of life in “Angel of Falling Leaves”: He has strewn golden wing leaves through the woods taking the sun to a last splendor in decline,

56 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal the eminent cold passing a brief breath over our necks.

Season of burrs and drying seeds to the ground limbs hard and exposed to the strength of their roots a dying for a return, Christ-like, left harvest expectations the wind gleaned, Demeter’s specter in the forthcoming shadows of winter. or as a magnet in this humorous poem “The Magnetic Angel,” which gathers and scatters by the force an invisible hand all things metal—a knife and a spoon in a drawer a disused alarm clock has drawn hip and spine.

A believer in Kreeft’s philosophy, Sens says that angels “have even ventured into the commercial sector, featuring on everything from the softest of toilet paper to the most sentimental of greeting cards.” He desires to use angels to evoke “a sense of wonder in their manifest interactions with the worldly and mundane.” Thus, a cellular phone becomes an “Angel of here and there, / of voices—canned, digitized, algorithmic, / then reopened in another place like an accordion.” Rain is an angel who “repeats himself into rosaries of drops /…/ his present gleaming through the spray of an awning over a deserted avenue” (“Angel of Rain”), and mosquitos are “vampire angels with suction needle mouths” carrying “yellow fever, Ebola, dengue / a new strand of flu, classic malaria, just the benign rash of their lancing” (“Mosquitos Angel”). To Sens, angels are the embodiment of this world, whether they are benign or noxious, whether they represent human beings or things and insects in nature.

Stylistically, many poems resort to long lines, and the voice is narrative. Some of them may be more effective if they are in the form of prose poetry. One conspicuity is the humor that makes poems more readable with funny moments. Overall, as Sens says, Angels & Visitors reflects his desire to come across the sacred, and this desire is angelized especially in these lines from “Angel of the Holy Spirit”: The angel of the Holy Spirit, a clever kleptomaniac returning all given and taken with a godly hue of divine breath riches in the pockets of your soul you did not know.

In short, Sens’s Angels & Visitors is like “a page given to the echo of God,” as asserted by the concluding line of the last poem “Into the Great Silence.”

Jane Blanchard 57 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 57-69

Poems Two Poems Jane Blanchard Lot’s Wife Her husband’s land became her own Once Abram let Lot choose where he Would live among men then unknown.

These soon revealed themselves to be The type of fellows most inclined Toward practice of depravity.

Perhaps they thought no god would mind, But mind He did, so told Lot to Leave them and that and there behind.

Lot did what he was told to do; His wife, however, turned to salt With fire and brimstone still in view.

Temptation came to such a halt: A glance or stare, and she was dead, An ending found to be her fault.

At least she never looked ahead To see her scheming daughters bear Her husband’s children in her stead.

58 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal (For)Bidden Bathsheba was so beautiful King David lusted after her.

Her presence sought, times what they were, Refusal was impossible.

When she was found to be with child, Uriah was called home from war.

He loved his wife, but duty more, So they remained unreconciled.

A plan to have this Hittite killed Was written, sent, soon read and done.

With yet another wife, then son, The mighty ruler felt fulfilled.

God was not pleased: the infant died.

Sin had its price, as prophesied.

Todd Sunaky 59

“Until We Are One” and Other Poems Todd Sukany Until We Are One As the bride, we have a husband chosen for us. Through letters and testimonies, we learn to love and obey. Honor. Trust.

For some the promise of ceremony has stretched past years. Until then, at his feet, we long to see his face.

60 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Space Available As advertised. Accommodations fit for the King. Panoramic view of the Gate Beautiful and the Constricted Way. Streets like pure glass. Open floor plan. With a breath of prayer, immediate occupancy guaranteed.

Todd Sunaky 61 O, the Horror Why choose Chucky or some other goon?

Why labor and strive, hours on end, to choose extravagant popcorn and some bubbly beverage? Why sit in the dark, waiting to cover your mouth, hoping you choose a cough above a scream? Why sanction others to write a storyline, predictable as a rainforest, and some actor to choose how to whimper the words? Why choose to practice eternity daily, dancing through fire and brimstone?

62 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

“Looking Up” and Other Poems John Zheng Looking Up after Eudora Welty’s photograph Church in Port Gibson T h e g o l d e n h a n d atop the steeple which witnessed General Grant’s army marching to Natchez points its index finger towards the blue sky which is the right road human souls need to take

John Zheng 63 Angel after Eudora Welty’s photograph Born in This Hand Ida M’Toy is a tender-hearted midwife whose hands, as soft as cotton, welcome the coming of suns and moons with loud cries and whose smile is a beautiful butterfly fluttering from home to home.

See, she stands there like a messenger of God, showing how to hold a baby.

Dazzling on her hands is the spring sun, a newborn waking in the swaddles.

64 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

Bridge after Eudora Welty’s photograph Jackson Four young women, two whites and two blacks, were passing each other on the timber railroad bridge, all in short-sleeved dresses, two in sun hats and one in a head wrap. Must be a hot Sunday.

Where were they going? To a party or going home after singing spirituals or praying to God? Were they smiling? What impressions would they have or leave if they nodded or exchanged greetings?

Would their voices sound cheerful like the rails vibrating in the chugging of a train?

Would the bridge connect them to another Sunday, or any day, after this simple moment of passing?

John Zheng 65 Rebirth After I die I don’t want my soul to be inserted back into a physical body, so at the cross roads of my next life, I won’t be your beaten son again.

Rather, I hope my soul to be absent from body, to be absent from your family.

It just needs to be a bloody-red maple leaf departing on the healing wind to the house of God, who shall keep my presence eternal in the heaven.

66 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Wedding in a Chinese Church A form of interbeing like a well-designed vase made of clay and water. When they want to make it beautiful, knead and wedge the clay to ensure moisture is even, shape it, dry it, glaze it, paint it, then fire it in a kiln— a long process that challenges their persistence and patience before it transforms into a piece of art of two in one— a symbol of faith and loyalty observed by the Omnipotent.

John Zheng 67 Moonscape A solitary light over the chapel where murmuration of prayers turns into a flock of starlings swooping and swirling above the earth across the expanse of the heavens

68 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Note from Gardening The first step is to replace old mix from a flowerpot with new mix for a young plant.

Faith needs no such process— it’s an evergreen with foliage never fading, withering and falling.

John Zheng 69 Crafted by God “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:27-28) Spring sun shines into burring bumblebees which pollinate yellow buttercups until the cup-shaped petals caress them to ripen pollen in the stamens for fertilization in the carpels.

70 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 2023): 70-80

Photo Essay The Apostle Peter in Dante’s Inferno: Photos from Israel John J. Han The Inferno, the first book of Dante’s Divine Comedy (c. 1321), is not an easy text to understand even for Christian readers. All the types of sin and spiritual weakness condemned in Dante’s underworld—moral indecision, lust, gluttony, greed, anger, heresy, violence, fraud, and treachery, among others—are condemned in the Bible as well. In addition to numerous biblical allusions, the poet alludes to Greco-Roman mythology, the intellectual history of Europe, Florentine politics, the problems within the contemporary Catholic Church, and his personal life.

To make matters complicated, the tortures Dante portrays masterfully in the poem are not based on the Bible but on his own imagination. In other words, reading the Inferno requires sufficient knowledge of the Bible, Catholic theology, church history, European humanities, Dante’s own life, and his poetic techniques.

Fortunately, there are many learning resources on the Inferno.

Several prose translations of the poem exist, including the ones by John Aitken Carlyle (1849), Edward Sullivan (1893), John Carpenter Garnier (1901), and Allan Gilbert (1969). Cartoon versions are both informative and enjoyable; the one by Hunt Emerson and Kevin Jackson, Dante’s Inferno (2012), is particularly excellent. Dante’s Inferno: An Animated Epic (2010), which is loosely based on the poem, is worth watching as well.

Of course, there are numerous websites and YouTube videos on the Inferno.

I use some of the resources above in my instructions on the Inferno, which I have taught in my World Literary Types course for more than twenty years. In addition, I use some of the photos I took at different locations. Students today love visuals that enhance their understanding of a dense text. In the Spring 2021 issue of Intégrité (pp. 99-101), I illustrated three passages from the Inferno with three respective photos from Vienna, Venice, and the Alps in Slovenia.

I now have some more images to share with my students. In June 2023, I had the privilege of visiting Israel for ten days, when I took more than 2,200 photos at various biblical sites. Some photos were taken at places related to Peter the Apostle (also called Simon Peter), whom the Roman Catholic Church considers the first pope. In the Inferno, Dante

John J. Han 71 mentions St. Peter several times. Below are three passages in which Dante refers to him, and I elucidate them by using both photos from Israel and passages from the Bible. The English translations are by John Ciardi, and the italicized words in brackets are my annotations for students. The passages are followed by photos, explanations, and often quotations from the New Testament.

Cantos 1, lines 122-138 And I [Dante] to him [Virgil, Dante’s guide through Hell and Purgatory]: “Poet, by that God to you unknown, lead me this way. Beyond this present ill and worse to dread, lead me to Peter’s gate [the gate where Purgatory begins; also called “the gate of Purgatory”] and be my guide through the sad halls of Hell.”

And he then: “Follow.” And he moved ahead in silence, and I followed where he led. * Cantos 2, lines 22-24 Both [Rome and the Roman Empire], to speak strictly, were founded and foreknown [by God] as the established Seat of Holiness [Holy See] for the successors of Great Peter’s throne. [Peter was the first pope, and there have been 266 popes altogether.] * Cantos 19, lines 82-87: Matt. 16:18-19 [This passage is about the simoniacs who sold church offices or sacred things.]

Maybe—I cannot say—I grew too brash at this point, for when he [Virgil] had finished speaking I said, “Indeed! Now tell me how much cash our Lord [Jesus] required of Peter in guarantee before he put the keys into his keeping? [In Matthew 16:19, Jesus tells Peter, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” NIV] Surely he asked nothing but “Follow me!”

72 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Nor did Peter, nor the others, ask silver or gold of Matthew [Matthias, who replaced Judas Iscariot] when they chose him for the place the despicable and damned apostle [Judas] sold.

John J. Han 73

This statue of Peter and a servant girl stands in the courtyard of the Church of Saint Peter in Gallicantu, Jerusalem. (Gallicantu means “cock’s crow” in Latin.) The girl recognizes Peter as a follower of Christ, but he denies his master: Then they [the Jewish religious leaders] seized him [Jesus] and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him. (Luke 22:54-76 ESV) Peter’s wide-open, angry eyes indicate his flat denial of any association with Christ.

74 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

The Church of Saint Peter in Gallicantu, Jerusalem. On the roof of the church is a black cross which is topped by a golden rooster. As Jesus prophesied, a rooster crows after Peter denies him three times.

John J. Han 75

The Sacred Pit or Christ’s Prison in the house of Caiaphas, a Jewish high priest, Jerusalem. On his way to this prison cell, Christ looks at Peter after his disciple denied him three times and the rooster crowed. “The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly” (Luke 22:61-62 NIV).

76 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

A statue of Jesus and Peter in Capernaum on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus tells Peter, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:16 KJV). Capernaum, a finishing village in Jesus’ time, was home to Andrew, John, James, and Peter, all of whom were fishermen. Mark 1:16-18 read, As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon [Peter] and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” At once they left their nets and followed him.

(NIV) Matthew, a tax collector, was from this village as well.

John J. Han 77

A statue of Peter in Capernaum, a fishing village in ancient times on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee. He holds the keys of the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 16:18-19).

78 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

An illustration of Jesus’ disciples as fishers of men. It stands on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, Capernaum. Matthew 4:18-22 read, While walking by the Sea of Galilee, he [Jesus] saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. And going on from there he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him (ESV).

John J. Han 79

The ruins of Peter’s house in Capernaum. The Memorial Church of St. Peter stands over the ruins and is supported by eight pillars.

80 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

The way to the Memorial Church of St. Peter, Capernaum.

Notes on Contributors 81

Notes on Contributors Matthew Bardowell <Matthew.Bardowell@mobap.edu> is Associate Professor of English at Missouri Baptist University, where he teaches World Literature, British Literature, and the works of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. His research centers on Old Norse and Old English literature as well as the writings of J. R. R. Tolkien, and his recent scholarship engages questions concerning emotion and aesthetics. His work appears in Renascence: Essays on Values in Literature, Journal of the Fantastic in the Arts, Mythlore, and The Ashgate Encyclopedia of Literary and Cinematic Monsters. He has served as a co-editor (with John J. Han and C. Clark Triplett) of Certainty and Ambiguity in Global Mystery Fiction: The Moral Imagination (Bloomsbury Academic, Feb. 2024). Bardowell holds a Ph.D. in English from Saint Louis University.

Jane Blanchard <jegblanchard@aol.com> lives and writes in Georgia (USA). She studied English at Wake Forest and Rutgers universities. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Lyric, The Main Street Rag, and The Robert Frost Review. Her collections include Never Enough Already (2021), Sooner or Later (2022), and Metes and Bounds (2023).

Nomkita Chirunga-Cortez <nomkita.chirunga-cortez@bhcarroll.edu> holds a BAS in Technical Theatre and Christian Studies and a Master of Arts in Theological Studies in Church History from Dallas Baptist University in Dallas, TX. She is currently pursuing a Ph.D. in Christian History and Heritage at B.H Carroll Theological Institute in Irving, TX. Matthew C. Easter <Matthew.Easter@mobap.edu> is Associate Professor of Bible and Director of Christian Studies at Missouri Baptist University. He has published peer-reviewed journal articles on Hebrews, Paul, and the Gospel of Luke. His first book, Faith and the Faithfulness of Jesus in Hebrews (2014), is published with Cambridge University Press.

He recently published the “faith in Christ” entry in the 2nd edition of The Dictionary of Paul and His Letters and a chapter on Hebrews’ parallels to 2 Maccabees 7 in Hebrews in Context. He holds degrees from Southwest Baptist University (B.A.), Duke Divinity School (M.Div.), and the University of Otago (Ph.D.).

Paulette Guerin <pbane@harding.edu> lives in Arkansas and teaches writing, literature, and film. Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Best New Poets, epiphany, Contemporary Verse 2, Carve Magazine, and others. She is the author of the chapbook Polishing Silver (Finishing Line Press) and the full-length collection Wading Through Lethe (FutureCycle Press), which explores memory, loss, and metamorphosis in the landscapes of an Ozark Mountain childhood and travel abroad. A suite of 25 poems appears in the

82 Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal anthology Wild Muse: Ozarks Nature Poetry (Cornerpost Press). Her screenplay, Irish Rose, was recently optioned by Cinterra Entertainment.

Her website is pauletteguerin.com.

John J. Han <john.han@mobap.edu> is Professor of English and Creative Writing and Associate Dean of the School of Humanities and Theology at Missouri Baptist University. Han is the author, editor, coeditor, or translator of 35 books, including Wise Blood: A ReConsideration (Rodopi, 2011), The Final Crossing: Death and Dying in Literature (Peter Lang, 2015), Worlds Gone Awry: Essays on Dystopian Fiction (McFarland, 2018), Dawn Returns: The Haiku Society of America Members’ Anthology 2022 (HSA, 2022), and Certainty and Ambiguity in Global Mystery Fiction: Essays on the Moral Imagination (Bloomsbury Academic, Feb. 2024). He is co-editing, with C. Clark Triplett, a volume tentatively titled Cached in the Hills: Essays on Ozarks Literature. A native of South Korea, he earned his M.A. from Kansas State University and his Ph.D. from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Stephanie E. Kontrim-Baumann<Stephanie.Baumann@mobap.edu> is Assistant Professor of Marketing and Business Administration and Associate Dean of the School of Management and Marketing, College of Business and Entrepreneurship, Missouri Baptist University. She earned her B.A. in Communication from the University of Pennsylvania and her M.B.A. from the Olin Business School at Washington University in St. Louis. She is currently an ABD student pursuing her Doctor of Business Administration degree at Liberty University.

Aaron Lumpkin <Aaron.Lumpkin@mobap.edu> is Associate Vice President for Spiritual Formation and Assistant Professor of Theology at Missouri Baptist University. He has served in pastoral ministry and Christian higher education for over a decade. Currently, he serves as a pastor of the Church of the Redeemer in St. Louis. Aaron is the co-editor of The Sum and Substance of the Gospel: The Christ-Centered Piety of Charles Haddon Spurgeon (Reformation Heritage Books, 2020). He has written other publications with The Gospel Coalition and various academic journals. He is married to Sara, and they have five children.

Todd Sukany <tsukany@sbuniv.edu>, a Pushcart nominee, lives in Pleasant Hope, Missouri, with his wife of over 40 years. He holds degrees from Southwest Baptist University and Southeast Missouri State University. His work has appeared in Ancient Paths, Cantos: A Literary and Arts Journal, Cave Region Review, The Christian Century, Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal, and The Ekphrastic Review. Sukany coauthored a book of poetry, The First Book of Mirrors, with Raymond Kirk.

A native of Michigan, Sukany stays busy running, playing music, loving three children, their spouses, six grandchildren, and caring for three rescue dogs, and three feral cats.

Notes on Contributors 83

C. Clark Triplett <Clark.Triplett@mobap.edu> is Emeritus Dean of Graduate Studies and Professor of Psychology at Missouri Baptist University. He served as co-editor (with John Han) of The Final Crossing: Death and Dying in Literature (Peter Lang, 2015), a co-editor (with John Han and Ashley Anthony) of Worlds Gone Awry: Essays on Dystopian Fiction (McFarland, 2018), and a co-editor (with John Han and Matthew Bardowell) of Certainty and Ambiguity in Global Mystery Fiction: Essays on the Moral Imagination (Bloomsbury Academic, Feb. 2024). He is coediting, with John Han, a volume tentatively titled Cached in the Hills: Essays on Ozarks Literature. Triplett’s poems have appeared in Cantos, Fireflies’ Light, and the Asahi Haikuist Network. He earned a B.A. from Southwest Baptist University, an M.Div. from Covenant Theological Seminary, an M.S.Ed. from Southern Illinois University at Edwardsville, and a Ph.D. from Saint Louis University.

John Zheng <zheng@mvsu.edu> teaches English at Mississippi Valley State University, where he serves as editor for two literary and scholarly journals: Valley Voices: A Literary Review and Journal of Ethnic American Literature. His books published in 2023 are The Dog Years of Reeducation: Poems (Madville Publishing), Conversations with Jerry W. Ward Jr. (University Press of Mississippi), and Just Looking: Haiku Sequences about the Mississippi Delta (Buttonhook Press). He has published dozens of photo essays in journals including Arkansas Review, Intégrité, Mississippi Folklife, The Right Words: A Magazine of Nonfiction, and The Southern Quarterly.

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Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal

Intégrité: A Faith and Learning Journal Submission Guidelines

Intégrité (pronounced IN tay gri tay) is a peer-reviewed scholarly journal on the integration of Christian faith and higher learning. Founded in the fall of 2002 with the Institutional Renewal Grant from the Rhodes Consultation on the Future of the Church-Related College, it is published both online and in print copy.

Interested Christian scholars are encouraged to submit academic articles (15-25 pages double spaced), short essays on faith and learning (8-12 pages double spaced), book reviews (4-8 pages double spaced), and poetry (5-15 poems single spaced) for consideration. Along with your work, we need an author bio of 100-125 words written in third person and in complete sentences. Manuscripts should be sent as e-mail attachments (Microsoft Word format) to the editor, John J. Han, at john.han@mobap.edu. Due dates are March 1 for inclusion in the spring issue and September 1 for inclusion in the fall issue.

Articles should examine historical, theological, philosophical, cultural, and/or pedagogical issues related to faith-learning integration. Possible topics include, but are not limited to: • • • • • • • • •

the current state and/or future of the church-related college history of Christian liberal arts education Christianity and contemporary culture a Christian perspective on multiculturalism and diversity service learning academic freedom in a Christian context implementation of Christian truths in academic disciplines Christian education in the non-Western world global Christianity.

Articles must engage in faith-learning issues or controversies in a scholarly, critical manner. We generally do not consider manuscripts that are merely factual, devotional, or sermonic. Articles are expected to be research-based but must focus on the author’s original thought. We also do not consider articles that use more than twenty-five secondary sources; merely present other scholars’ opinions without developing extended, thoughtful analysis; and/or use excessive endnotes. Direct quotations, especially lengthy ones, should be used sparingly.

Submission Guidelines 85 Considering that most Intégrité readers are Christian scholars and educators not necessarily having expertise on multiple disciplines, articles, short essays, and book reviews must be written in concise, precise, and easy-to-understand style. Writers are recommended to follow what William Strunk, Jr., and E.B. White suggest in The Elements of Style: use definite, specific, concrete language; omit needless words; avoid a succession of loose sentences; write in a way that comes naturally; and avoid fancy words.

For citation style, refer to the current edition of MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers. Articles and short essays should include intext citations in parentheses, a list of endnotes (if applicable), and an alphabetical listing of works cited at the end of the article. Enter endnotes manually instead of using the “Insert Endnote” function in a wordprocessing program.

Book reviews need only page numbers in parentheses after direct quotations.