The Philosophy of Tolkien - A Review

There are many who have fallen into the well of wonder in J. R. R. Tolkien’s Middle-Earth and not considered why the story is so compelling. Many of those who have fallen in love with Tolkien’s world have never asked why the story is so compelling, why the world seems so unfathomably deep, and why the caricatures of Tolkien’s world as moralistically simple or black and white seem so incredibly wrong.

Peter Kreeft explores Tolkien’s worldview in his book, The Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind The Lord of the Rings. What emerges is a portrait of a rigorously Augustinian Roman Catholicism which undergirds the stories of elves, orcs, and dwarves. For the most part, explicit worship is absent from The Lord of the Rings, but there is certainly a reverence toward the supernatural.

In fact, Kreeft argues, the primary religious sentiments of Middle Earth are a form of pre-Christian paganism, which, like the polytheism practiced by Abram prior to being called by YHWH, provides a pathway toward Christian theism. Much of the basis for Kreeft’s argument is found in The Silmarillion and some of Tolkien’s letters. What is clear, however, is the openness to the sublime and the supernatural in the world. Tolkien’s worldview stands in stark contrast to the materialism of the modern world.

There are thirteen chapters of varying length in this middling sized book. Kreeft subdivides his topics into questions that relate to topics like Metaphysics, Philosophical Theology, Angelology, Cosmology, Epistemology, Aesthetics, and Ethics. While the book does not cover every possible topic, it does show the range of thought that went into Tolkien’s sub-creation.

Kreeft is always an interesting read. He is most interesting when he is writing about C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien. Though this book has Tolkien in the title, there is a hefty dose of Lewis in its pages. I’m sure he quotes Tolkien more, but it is surprising how much of Lewis worked his way into the book. Of course, that is because Lewis and Tolkien were friends for much of their adult lives (despite a cooling, which seemed to stem from Tolkien’s dislike of the Narnia series), and shared much of their understanding of Christianity. As well, the inclusion of Lewis makes this book stronger because Tolkien wrote much less non-fiction prose. Lewis wrote many essays that cover a wide range of topics. Therefore, since Lewis and Tolkien share so much in common with their worldview, there are many times when Lewis can be used to explain why Tolkien is illustrating with The Lord of the Rings.

It may seem odd to some that there is a book by a significant, articulate, and well-studied philosopher delving into the underpinnings of a fantasy world. After all, especially since the movies have been released, there are enthusiasts of various ages that dress up in costumes and play act as the many fantastical characters of the epic novel. A better question, however, is why the imaginative world of a twentieth century Roman Catholic inspires nones, pagans, Christians, atheists, and others to invest so much of their lives. Even before the movies caught on there were many people of diverse backgrounds who found the story of Frodo’s quest to destroy the One Ring a compelling narrative. Graffiti popped up on college campuses shortly after The Lord of the Rings was published declaring that “Frodo lives.” Even SciFi legend Leonard Nimoy felt condemned to write a song honoring Bilbo Baggins.

Tolkien is popular because he points to something deep and meaningful. For many years I struggled to articular why I read The Hobbit dozens of times and have read The Lord of the Rings about once a year for many years. Kreeft provides an easier path to understanding the powerful vision under the surface of The Lord of the Rings that draws thoughtful readers back again and again. It isn’t simply that Tolkien wrote with a greater detail and presented a more thoroughly consistent world than any other fantasy writer. Rather, it is that the world he created is overlaid on the greatest and truest myth there ever was—Christianity. Tolkien’s creation points toward reality as it really is and as it is described by Christianity.

For the academically minded Christian who wonders what the Tolkien fandom is all about, The Philosophy of Tolkien provides a serious exploration of the value of this fantastical story that extends well beyond entertainment. For the Tolkien-lover wondering why philosophy and theology matter, Kreeft’s book opens doors to abstractions like metaphysics and epistemology through the world that The Lord of the Rings fans already know so well. There is a certain sort of homeschooler who would benefit greatly for having this book put into their hands. As for me, I found the book both delightful and instructive. It was an enjoyable way to pass the time thinking about a story I love and thinking more carefully about the real world I live in.

Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind The Lord of the Rings

By Kreeft, Peter

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Begotten or Made? - A Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Begotten or Made?

By O'Donovan, Oliver

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De-Fragmenting Modernity - A Review

Paul Tyson’s 2017 book, De-fragmenting Modernity: Reintegrating Knowledge with Wisdom, Belief with Truth, and Reality with Being, is a place for those trying to bring order back to the modern world. This is not a book for the philosophical novice, and even those familiar with language like epistemology and ontology will have to read Tyson carefully. At the same time, the thesis and the argument are worth the work.

Tyson’s basic thesis is that “being, knowing, and believing always have their meanings in relation to each other.” (7) Unfortunately, the category of being has largely been ejected from the cultural imagination. This is part of what makes Tyson a challenge to read: He is resurrecting concepts and speaking in terms that are foreign to the way contemporary Western culture is constructed and communicates.

As the title indicates, Tyson is critical of modernity. Here he joins a line of other voices, which includes those who would like to return to some sort of pre-medieval synthesis and those who think that even the misshapen constraints of modernity are too restrictive. Tyson deals less with the cultural impacts of modernity than he does with the philosophical roots of modernity.

The beginning of an answer to what ails modernity, according to Tyson, is restoring the concept of ontology (the study of being) to the cultural imagination and then bringing being, wisdom, and truth back together in conversation. This process begins with the reconstruction of basic cultural assumptions, which begins by recognizing one’s hidden preconceptions and then trying to reconcile them with another set. The challenge is real.

One huge challenge Tyson identifies is that cultural assumptions are often masked, even (or perhaps especially) for those who specialize in pointing out the assumptions of others. He writes, “When modern theological thinking tries to be ‘scientific’ in modern terms––appealing to notions of objective proof and instrumental effectiveness––it is entirely unrelated to ancient theology. This is as true of ‘liberal’ theology as it is of ‘fundamentalist’ theology in modernity.” (37)

Tyson’s point here will be shocking to some, but he is far from the first to note that many fundamentalists have adopted basically modern approaches to theology. This has sometimes resulted in sub-orthodox formulations of doctrine, even among those most concerned with orthodoxy. The reductionistic tendency of our culture shapes us unless we consistently seek to challenge them, interrogating them to evaluate their integrity. That interrogation must not be done skeptically, with the cynicism entailed in the approach of the college sophomore, but honestly with a repeated attempt to ask “Is this right?” or “What am I missing?”

Tyson’s work fits well into the conversation with individuals like Zygmunt Bauman, Charles Taylor, and others. Tyson comes at the questions from a more directly philosophical angle, rather than the cultural or sociological angle of others. Everyone doing cultural analysis of modernity’s failings is engaged in philosophy, but Tyson’s analysis ventures little beyond philosophy.

De-fragmenting Modernity is a worthwhile volume for those philosophically minded and willing to invest some energy into careful reading. As we continue to try to restore a deeper sense of reality in our lives, including among our circles of friends and family, the foundational work Tyson is doing can be a source of conversation and discovery.

De-Fragmenting Modernity: Reintegrating Knowledge with Wisdom, Belief with Truth, and Reality with Being

By Tyson, Paul

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The Man Born to be King - A Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Man Born to Be King: Wade Annotated Edition

By Sayers, Dorothy L.

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

The Ethics of Authenticity - A Review

Charles Taylor is one of the critics of modernity whose work cannot be avoided. Taylor’s framework for understanding contemporary Western culture has been invoked, discussed, or critiqued widely in past few decades.

Many who have never picked up one of Taylor’s books nonetheless would recognize terms like buffered self or immanent frame if they were spoken within hearing. Those are ideas that accompany Taylor’s thoughts.

Unfortunately, though Taylor is important (even if not accepted by all) for understanding contemporary discussions, some of his works are both large and challenging to read. Many people, therefore, rely on second hand interpretations which are sometimes helpful, but also tend to carry freight beyond what Taylor intended. It’s always good to go to the source.

Taylor’s book, The Ethics of Authenticity, is a reasonable point of entry for his work. It originated as lectures that were received by a more popular than academic audience, so the language and explanation are much clearer. Additionally, the book itself is much shorter, while still providing a sufficiently thorough explanation of his main points.

In The Ethics of Authenticity, Taylor discusses three malaises of modernity: (1) Individualism; (2) The primacy of instrumental reasoning; and (3) The soft despotism of systems that are trying to maintain modernity’s grip.

Individualism is, Taylor recognizes, both a major accomplishment of modernity and one of its most troubling attributes. It is a good thing that the personhood and agency of an individual has been recognized and greater freedom has come to make real human progress. At the same time, the loss of the sense of belonging, of purpose, and of one’s proper place within the cosmos was swept away by what has become, in more extreme iterations, an existentialism full of dread.

Individualism led to the break down of the sense of order in the cosmos, which led to disenchantment. That disenchantment, in turn, contributes to the primacy of instrumental reasoning. Less often is the inherent worth of an object, a task, or a person considered. Instead, the chief measure of value is whether something is efficient, what the bottom line is, and what it can be used for. This is a totalizing perspective, which forces even those who recognize that people are more than inefficient machines still must terminate the employment of their least efficient workers, whether their family circumstances support it or not.

There is irony in the freedom that has been achieved through modernity. We are cut adrift from many of the most onerous obligations, but we are now caught by our isolation in a much more unforgiving machine, which is difficult to resist. Thus, “the institutions and structures of industrial-technological society severely restrict our choices, that they force societies as well as individuals to give a weight to instrumental reason that in serious moral deliberation we would never do, and which may even be highly destructive.”

These malaises all involve a high place for “authenticity” as a central virtue of modern moral thinking. Rather than faith, hope, and love, which all bear a sense of duty and constraint, the central concern of modern ethics is to be authentic—to be true to oneself. Taylor first of all shows how this is more than total narcissism and vacuous reasoning, which many (especially conservatives) ascribe to modern thinking as they dismiss it. At the same time, authenticity is also tyrannical. One’s identity is not complete until it is recognized (affirmed?) by another. This, then, makes the whole system incoherent.

However, Taylor argues, that the current system is too strongly woven into the fabric of society, so that stepping out of modernity is not possible. He writes, “The struggle ought no to be over authenticity; for or against it, but about it, defining its proper meaning. We ought to be trying to life the culture back up, closer to its motivating ideal.” That is, those of us seeking to reclaim some semblance of sanity in culture might be better off pointing people toward what it means to be truly and properly human.

I’m too new to Taylor’s work to draw a final conclusion. There is also too much more for me to read to claim to say, “This is the way.” However, as I read through The Ethics of Authenticity I underlined and annotated a large number of passages. I found myself nodding along, thinking that he had perhaps gotten something that I had not figured out just yet, and that it would be worth doing more homework to figure out if what he says can be put into practice.  At the very least, I think I have a better sense of what everyone else has been talking about. If you want that, too, then this may be a book for you.

The Ethics of Authenticity

By Taylor, Charles

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On Getting Out of Bed - A Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On Getting Out of Bed: The Burden and Gift of Living

By Noble, Alan

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

Quit - A Review

Quitters never win and winners never quit.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard many times so far in my middle-aged existence.

Many of the cultural myths that we celebrate tell the stories of underdogs who didn’t quit when they were up against unthinkable odds and someone came through. Stories like Rudy light up our collective imaginations as we see the little guy, too dumb to go to Notre Dame and too small to get onto the field of play, fight his way through practice for years until he finally gets a moment on the field. All of that happened because he did not quit.

It's a good story. Anyone who can watch Rudy and not get excited has a heart two sizes too small.

But that story is a one in a million. It’s a beautiful story. It’s romantic. It also only accounts for a tiny piece of Rudy’s own story, or the thousands of different ways that his story could have ended had he chosen just a little differently. Those might not have ended up on the big screen, but we have no idea what his energy and effort could have led to in an alternate universe where he didn’t invest so much of himself into being a mediocre college football player.

The point isn’t the Rudy Ruettiger story, though. The point is that we have made it a sign of weakness to recognize that we are going the wrong way, pursuing the wrong dream, and that the best course of action is to turn around. That’s what quitting can be. It can be deciding to go a different way.

What if sometimes the quitting is the best way to make progress in life?

Annie Duke’s recent book, Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away, is about looking at quitting in a different way and recognizing that sometimes it is really the best choice available.

Duke was once a professional poker player. She recognizes, as Kenny Rogers used to sing, “You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.” One of the basic skills every poker player needs to have is recognizing when the odds are stacking against you and folding the hand. Quit is really about learning to recognize when it is time to step away from a hand so that you can play another hand. It’s about learning when to quit.

Of course, the assumption Duke makes is that the sort of people who are reading her book are people that are going to quit one activity to go start another. A professional athlete might retire because his joints are creaky and he can’t run as fast, but generally the competitive drive that got them to the peak of their sport pushes them to strive in another area. Duke’s book is for the sort of person that is going to attack the next goal, at which they might have a better chance of succeeding.

Quit falls into the category of a lot of other self-help, productivity, and organizational psychology book. Duke is a popularizer who cites studies performed by others, but communicates them in a way that is easily accessible and more helpful than a peer reviewed article with a bunch of tables. There are citations of Daniel Kahneman, Richard Thaler, and some of the other usual subjects. This is an airplane book. It takes a few hours to read, can be put down and picked up with ease, and offers some self-improvement along the way.

One of the deep flaws of this book is that the motivations behind sticking to it or quitting are shallow and instrumental. It’s all about money and self-fulfillment. Given that, it’s not surprising that Duke recommends her decision making for divorce in cases where a spouse isn’t helping someone achieve their full potential. There is little room for duty and integrity in this book. It’s all about my happiness and my success.

At the same time, the thought process behind decision making can be helpful for an individual or organization that is stuck in a rut. There are too many church programs that persist for years after the people that drove them are gone or their purpose is being efficiently fulfilled. Sometimes we need to cut our losses in a ministry and move on to something that fits better with the current need or the current members of the congregation.

Taken with a grain of salt, there is a chunk of good advice in this popular-level book. Sometimes we need to put our heads down and keep pushing forward. But we also need to recognize that when we do that, we are giving up opportunities for something else. Sometimes we need to look at other opportunities and recognize they provide a better return on the investment of our time. Efficiency and success isn’t the only thing that matters, but sometimes it does matter. Sometimes we need to know when to quit.

Quit: The Power of Knowing When to Walk Away

By Duke, Annie

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The Life We're Looking For - A Review

As we navigate modernity, sometimes it is hard to know what we are looking for. What is it that we are seeking?

Andy Crouch pursues that question in his recent book, The Life We’re Looking For: Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World.

Crouch, who was a one-time editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, has dealt with the question of technology previously, particularly in his helpful Tech-Wise Family and alongside his daughter in My Tech-Wise Life.  The latest volume builds on the earlier research, but moves beyond it to consider more broadly what sort of culture, environment, and general shape of the world humans naturally seek.

The book begins by outlining many of the reasons why we are unsettled. Crouch notes loneliness, isolation, and a radical shift from the way of life that humanity has existed in for millennia. We have become largely anonymous. Ironically, in a world where there is very little privacy, we are truly known by very few people. One of the negative results of a great deal of technology has been the loss of dependence of people on one another. According to Crouch, we have traded in our personhood for power.

The list of ways that humans have acquired power includes the “magic” of technology, the use of money instead of relying on bartering and personal exchange, and artificial intelligence. The basic theme here is that humans have chosen technique and technology to substitute for what were, at one point, interactions that required direct human to human contact.

There are distinct advantages to much of technology. The human physical condition is, measured objectively, drastically improved from prior to the Industrial Revolution. However, amidst the cheers for technologies’ progress, we have become alienated from each other and from the world, at least to some degree. In many cases, the sense of alienation has taken generations to accumulate, but appears to be advancing rapidly in the last few decades, especially since the lightspeed changes of the computer revolution.

The end of Crouch’s book is  a plea to regain our sense of shared humanity, with an emphasis on some simple steps that can make the world more personal. This mostly has to do with recognizing that while technology may relieve a particular burden, it also often takes away opportunities and requires additional duties. Establishment of written language has, for example, greatly improved the ability to share stories, but it has also cause human memory patterns to change, so that our cultures no longer require us to learn, recall, and retell stories that have passed on to us by word of mouth. Now we have to write things down to remember them. There are unquestionable benefits, but significant losses, as well.

The crux of Crouch’s book is that Christians, especially, should be pursuing a deeper understanding of personhood. He notes the instance at the end of Paul’s letter to the Romans, where amidst the greetings from Timothy, Tertius the scribe, and Gaius the guy who hosts the church, there is a greeting from “our brother Quartus.” (Rom 16:23) He’s such a nobody that he was known as “the fourth,” as in the fourth son. No real name to speak of, not title. Just “our brother Quartus.” It’s easy to forget sometimes that Christianity came from such humble roots that a no name could be a someone in the middle of the church. That’s what Crouch calls the Christians back to in the midst of this modern age.

The Life We’re Looking For is a quick read. It’s easily digestible and the sort of text that would be good to put in the hands of someone overwhelmed by the weight of the world and attempts to navigate through it.

Crouch’s program of calling readers to consider the tradeoffs of technology is good, though I do think at points (as with the existence of money), he underestimates the benefit of having a basically universally acceptable medium of exchange—it does reduce the need for personal relationship, but it also ensures those on the lower end of the spectrum get access to markets and services. It may be that Crouch is overly negative to compensate for the positivity of many who see some of the advantages of technology. However, at the end of the day, Crouch makes readers think and really consider their positions well.

The Life We're Looking For: Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World

By Crouch, Andy

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The Wisdom Pyramid - A Review

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

We hear about expertise, eloquence, and clarity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Wisdom Pyramid: Feeding Your Soul in a Post-Truth World

By McCracken, Brett

Buy on Amazon

The Consistent Testimony of Eric Liddell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He writes,

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

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