WHAT DO I TRUST? [2 minute read] I am constantly bringing to my mind the classic, “What if?” My query is not a matter of doubt but of certainty. What will happen if I leave my garage door open all night long? Will people who want what I have be tempted to enter or will the person be stopped by some internal control? Would it be better for me to purchase a security system or trust the natural inclination of my neighbors or passersby to stay out of my garage, though the door is open?
For those who would point to my dogmatism, shaking their collective heads at my doubt of human goodness and reliance upon dead bolts, I would ask, “What is your dogmatism?” If I rely upon people to do what is right (whatever their definition of “right” may be) can I absolutely trust them when it comes to my person and property? And if I do trust in human decency, is that not now the new dogmatism?
But what if the very people I assume will stay out of my garage – the door open – decide instead to invade my home? Does not my assumption of goodness become my new hope, my new doctrine of anthropology, the bedrock of my ethics, or simply my desire to trust people? But what if, putting my belief in human integrity to the test, I discover not everyone will listen to their better angels? What if I find out that people, left to themselves, will use my property to better themselves?
If we were honest, we would have to question such an open-door policy. We put our money in banks for security. We lock our cars and our houses. We develop university policies such as FERPA for personal privacy. Doctor-patient privilege protects us from others knowing our physical information. Cyber-security has become a cottage industry to protect against fraud, identity theft, or hackers who want our money or desire a ransom to give back the flow of gasoline on the East coast.
No, I would rather live within the biblical tension of dignity and depravity. I know myself too well. Left to myself, I will always want what I want for myself. I will care for others only in so far as it benefits me. I have doubts, but I am certain about this: I am not to be trusted. Knowing what I know about me, I have to ask, “Can I trust others?” As a theologian, I can write pages of biblical warrant for my belief. But as a common, everyday person, I must use the famed phrase of President Reagan, “Trust, but verify.”
My certainty, my without-a-doubt commitment, is that to “verify” means I know we need laws, police, a judicial system, national defense, a strong military presence, and the will to employ not only locks on my doors, not only a closed garage door, but a response to wrongdoing that will keep my potential home intruder or our nation’s enemies at a distance, leaving the wrongdoer to wonder, “Am I ready for whatever I meet on the other side of that door?”
[First published on Mark’s FB page on 2 September 2021]
I remember like it was yesterday. Televisions were being brought to landings around the workout facility where I had just finished lifting weights. We all watched in horror as two planes destroyed the twin towers in New York City, another targeted the Pentagon. I remember the walk to the train station – I was living and working in Chicago at the time – as a city was being emptied of its people. The sound of a sonic boom erupted above me as fighter jets flew over Chicago, another potential, terrorist target. Arriving home all of America was glued to its television sets, wondering what had just happened.
We learned of another plane, Flight 93, downed in the hinterland of Pennsylvania; only later did we learn of the valiant sacrifice of the first patriots to die in what we would call “the war on terror.” A phone call came later that day from my brother-in-law to find out if I was OK; I was scheduled to speak in 25 cities that school year. My first trip was scheduled for later that month of September in 2001, O’Hare was a ghost town in comparison to its title at that time as America’s busiest airport. Being on planes in those days, I would overhear men tell the stewardesses ahead of takeoff, “If there is any trouble let me know.” A cab ride to my home after one of my trips found me in a car of a man who was celebrating the 9-11 attack. My response of righteous anger was not missed by the driver as he responded with wide eyes and silence, looking at me in his rearview mirror.
President George W. Bush joined first responders in New York City days after the attack, uttering those famous words, “The people who knocked down these buildings will be hearing from all of us soon!” Cheers and tears overwhelmed many of us. We were no longer hyphenated-Americans. A new slogan was born, “United We Stand.” Sometime soon thereafter Americans first heard the phrase “Horse Soldiers” as elite troops were ushered into Afghanistan on the only transportation available entering the country where the perpetrators planned the attack. Stories of sixty-year-old veterans wanting to reenlist were heard around the country. Toby Keith’s song “Courtesy of the Red, White & Blue” spoke the words that energized a nation and its military. The world changed on September 11th, 2001. Historians call events such as these, “hinges of history.” And today, twenty years later, the door has swung the other way.
I awoke this morning, sick to my stomach. My first prayers this weekend have been for the Afghan people, many of whom have, for twenty years been the beneficiaries of American military might protecting them from despotism. I have prayed for our veterans whose selflessness in sacrifice has been the deterrent against tyranny. I cannot begin to imagine their thoughts today as they see the results of their work eviscerated. As the stories of evacuation continue in the coming days, my prayers will shift to individual needs. But today, I also pray for America. I pray for the soul of our nation. I pray that we might remember our place in the world in God’s Providence. Proverbs 28 and 29 are peppered with statements that explain what happens to a people, depending upon those who govern. The universal ideals embedded in biblical theology are watchwords for this or any nation: “When the righteous triumph there is great joy, but when the wicked rise, people hide themselves” (28:12).
Continue to pray for the people of Afghanistan.
– Written on 16 August 2021 after the awful images of Afghans fleeing the Taliban emerged on media around the world (Picture credit: Twin towers, Photo by Steve Harvey on Unsplash and Snappy Goat)
Several centuries ago, a curious but deadly plague appeared in a small village in Lithuania. What was curious about this disease was its grip on its victim; as soon as a person contracted it, he would go into a very deep, almost deathlike coma. Most individuals would die within twenty-four hours, but occasionally a hardy soul would make it back to the full bloom of health. The problem was that since early eighteenth-century medical technology was not very advanced, the unafflicted had quite a difficult time telling whether a victim was dead or alive. This didn’t matter too much, though, because most of the people were, in fact, dead.
Then one day it was discovered that someone had been buried alive. This alarmed the townspeople, so they called a town meeting to decide what should be done to prevent such a situation from happening again. After much discussion most people agreed on the following solution. They decided to put food and water in every casket next to the body. They would even put an air hole up from the casket to the earth’s surface. And a string attached to a bell above the ground was also created so that the grave could be dug up if need be. These procedures would be expensive, but they would be more than worthwhile if they would save some people’s lives.
Another group came up with a second, less expensive, right answer. They proposed implanting a twelve-inch-long stake in every coffin lid directly over where the victim’s heart would be. Then whatever doubts there were about whether the person was dead or alive would be eliminated as soon as the coffin lid was closed.[1]
Questions for Discussion:
Explain the difference between the two groups.
What slogan would summarize the mindset of each of the two groups?
From your Christian perspective, is either group right or wrong? Why?
How does the Lithuanian situation relate to any current ethical issues?
The notes included here (Mindset Notes KLAIM #5) were first developed for high school teaching in the 1990’s and have been used in various venues since.
[1] Adapted from Ronald T. Habermas, Teaching for Reconciliation: Foundations and practice of Christian Educational Ministry, rev. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2001, p. 60.
Humpty Dumpty sneers at Alice for her use of a word.
“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty says, “It means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”
Lewis Carroll, author of Alice in Wonderland, summarizes the problem with words. We ask good questions such as “Can I trust what you say?” or “How do you know that my words are true?” We have been arguing about words ever since the snake uttered the famous line about God’s Word, “Did God really say . . .?”
Near the beginning of one class I teach at public university, students use their phones to discover the etymology – the origin of a word – that we are studying that day. Why? I am anxious that my students understand that every term has a past which informs how the word might be used in the present.
Take, for example, the word “think.” When students discover the origin of “think” they find that the word meant “how something appears to oneself.” Whatever we think about, seems to us, appears to us, to be what we see, what we understand.
Do you see?! Even the word “think” suggests that our focus is on ourselves. We form our thoughts. We define our words. We originate meaning. And therein lies the problem. We become the final arbiter, the ultimate judge of what words mean.
Some will argue that words have a long human history and are not owed a Christian source. Surprising, perhaps to some, I agree. The origins, instead, are Hebraic, indeed from the origin of human history in Eden. The first twisting of words was appropriated by our adversary, the devil. And if horror movies are any indication, satan is not going away.
This summer I will concern myself with the appropriation of words. Cultural usages of Hebraic-Christian terms will be investigated (e.g. redemption, guilt, salvation, forgiveness). If ever someone wanted to call out cultural appropriation – which is the adoption of certain elements of another culture by the dominant culture – it should begin with the use (and abuse) of biblical words in American culture.
Both the snake and Humpty Dumpty have a point. As I’ve told my students for years, “Whoever controls the definition, controls the conversation.” Appropriate and reinterpret to your heart’s content. My job is to have you pick up your phone and look up the etymology, the history of words. Acknowledging the source of a word will display the intention of a word and the power that is lost when the dominant culture of the day uses and misuses the word.
Written for and published to Facebook on May 3rd, 2021. I have been teaching and warning about the cultural appropriation of words since 1983. Here is one of my first online essays about the importance of words in Christian history and the awful impact of book burning (from March 2009).
The great Hank Aaron died last week. There was a time when I would not have to say more than his name. Those two words together would bring a cluster of thoughts to any American’s mind. Baseball. Hammerin’ Hank. Atlanta Braves. Homerun king. All-star. Hall of Fame. Hero. For me, as a young boy, watching a great man play ball on grainy black-and-white television picture, Hank Aaron’s name inspired me. I would go out in my back yard and throw a rubber ball against a stone wall imagining myself catching fly balls in right field like Aaron. Then I would pick up a bat, toss the ball in the air, trying to hit it as far as I could, like Hank. All I had to do was read a sports page or hear that name and I knew immediately WHO HE WAS.
I happened to be in a barber shop when I heard the news. I watched and listened as commentators regaled Aaron and his accomplishments. “It’s a good thing we have ESPN,” I said to myself, “Otherwise folks today might not know who Hank Aaron was, why he was so important to so many.” Yes, other names matter to young sports minds now. We know a great deal about individual athletes in the 21st century. Information about them is available on every screen. But I wonder about those great names of yesteryear, whose personas and accomplishments may be lost without our knowing, without our caring.
“WHO WAS HE?” Is a question that stands outside identity, ethnicity, gender, heritage, or status. Wondering after the history of a person is a reminder to us all, a reminder that people make a difference. “WHO WAS HE?” marks a time, a past, a person who mattered to others before our time. And now that we know something of that person, place, and time, how will it impact us? Will we hear the news of someone’s passing and say, “That’s too bad,” not giving the moment another thought? “WHO WAS HE?” should play a part in our changing, in our maturation, in our respect.
As I awoke this morning thinking these thoughts about Hank Aaron, my mind recalled famous poetry entitled “Ozymandias.” Two 19th century poets, Percy Shelley and Horace Smith, in friendly competition, submitted renditions of the same idea: all die, persons and accomplishments lost to future generations. For those interested, it will take all of thirty seconds to read each of the poems; it will take a lifetime to grasp their importance. The title of the poem is the Greek name of an Egyptian king, Ramses II. The poet looks upon the ruins of colossal statues, covered by the sands of time. The poems should bring to mind our impermanence on earth and eternal questions about life.
“WHO WAS HE?” is a question some may ask about us years from now. No, our exploits will not be recorded in some Hall of Fame. Neither will there be an ESPN to remind others of our legacy. Nothing may remain of us save items for sale on a Goodwill shelf. “WHO WAS HE?” brings to mind a series of questions:
Does what we remember, matter?
Do we care enough about history to study it, care for it, apply it?
Can we be certain of anything in this life, after death?
Do we consider the impermanence of our own lives?
If impermanence exists, is there anything permanent to depend upon?
Musings from 27 January 2021. The questions at the end of my thoughts are meant to prompt folks to think for themselves. My philosophy of life, of teaching, is not to force someone to believe what I do.I believe questions left to themselves are some of the greatest forms of evangelistic-apologetics. No one likes to be “preached at.” But open-ended discussion takes on new meaning when one considers a question.
Interest kills. Creditors bear responsibility. Borrowers need discernment.
Biblical directives are necessary in a world where indebtedness to build school buildings is common. The primary injunctions concerning indebtedness are directed toward the creditors—those who have the financial ability to abuse others by lending at interest (Ex 22:25-27; Lev 25:35-38; Deut 23:19, 20). Judgments against the lending-borrowing practice focused on exorbitant interest charged to those in need while “the rich became richer” (2 Kg 4:1-7; Neh 5:1-13; Ps 15:5; Prov 28:8; Jer 15:10; Ez 18:13; 22:12; Hab 2:7).
Borrowing is always viewed in a negative light (Prov 17:18), something one would want to avoid (Prov 22:7). However, borrowing is not altogether outlawed (Ex 22:25; Ps 37:26; Matt 5:42; Lk 6:35). It should be also noted that the original etymological range of the word “loan” meant to take a bite or consume. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew” or “be careful he doesn’t take a bite out of you” are common reminders. So borrowing is allowed though not advocated.
Scripture indicates that a borrower is a slave to the creditor (Prov 22:7) and debts must be repaid (Ps 37:21; Rom 13:7-8). So, a person or institution should follow these guidelines when considering indebtedness:
(1) Prayer—According to His sovereign will, God will meet His peoples’ needs (Matt 6:33-34; Ph 4:19; 1 Jn 3:21-24; 5:14, 15);
(2) Prudence—Believers should ask wise questions. Is the purchase necessary? Is it a need? Will the purchase further the purpose of Kingdom building without inhibiting the total program of the school? (cf. Prov 17:1; 27:23-24);
(3) Planning—God’s people should be shrewd (Lk 16:1-9), reaping eternal benefits. Budgets, collateral, etc. should be mapped out taking every practical precaution (Prov 21:5);
(4) Petitioning—Christians must grant people the opportunity to be blessed in giving by allowing the need to be known (Acts 4:32-37; 2 Co 8, 9; 1 Tim 6:17-19). Willingness to lend was a sign of righteous graciousness (Ps 112:5), debt repayment might be dropped (Prov 19:17), and a “loan” might be transferred to “gift” status (Ps 37:26) making creditors, contributors.
On the surface, numerous passages of Scripture seem to mitigate against the pledge (“striking the hand in pledge”; Prov 6:1-5; 11:15; 17:18; 20:25; 22:26-27; Ecc 5:4-5). However, our 21st century vocabulary does not correspond to the original writer’s language. The word in Hebrew “to take or give in pledge” refers to a security or deposit, what is referred to now as “collateral.”
The application of these verses to life had much more to do with a ‘vow’. Both Old and New Testaments emphatically state that once a promise had been made it must be kept (Ecc 5:1-7; Jas 4:17). People who pledge ought to be instructed that this financial promise to God’s work must not be taken lightly. Better not to pledge and bear no responsibility than to pledge and bear a penalty.
The Hebrew idea of “pledge” is a warning against a blind fiscal guarantee which may lead both creditor and borrower to ruin. Scripture considers this practice to be gambling—the pompous belief that monetary responsibility can be put off until tomorrow (Prov 27:1; Jas 4:13-17).
The bottom line about the bottom line?
Live within your means.
Purchase only what you need.
Put off desires for more, better, or different.
Be accountable with another person or other people about your money.
Remember that the money we have is not ours: we are simply stewards of what has been given (1 Chronicles 29:11-17).
The statement was originally written for a project in 1987 and has since been included for the “School Wide Biblical Integration,” a presentation in 2002, used in various venues since.
Research is the deliberation of the owl. Research is the spider’s methodical construction of her web. Research is the beaver building his dam, branch by branch. Research is the cat surveying her territory, still, silent, awaiting the opportunity to pounce. Masters and doctoral work demands these and other zoomorphic metaphors of care, craft, and concision in research. Yet, while processes are taught and rubrics followed in creating dissertations, what is often missing in the research process is the training of the mind or How to Think. If there were one book that every Christian educator should read in advance of and during any research, Alan Jacobs has written a small, power-packed engagement for those who care about mindset construction.
Book introductions tend to be throwaway pages since writers tend to simply give an overview of their thinking. But Jacobs breaks the mold using the introduction as the precis for not only the book’s purpose but for construction of human thoughtfulness. The reader is familiarized with names which should inhabit research habits: Kahneman, Haidt, Ariely, Fried, Robinson, and Eliot. Thinking processes are also introduced: anchoring, Dunning-Kruger effect, cognitive biases, Refutation Mode, and pejorative naming (e.g., “Puritanism”). Alan Jacobs’ fine introduction for How to Think is stacked with insights, ideas, innovators, and intellectuals whose thoughts should be considered ahead of any research process. In fact, How to Think will generate so many outside connections that the reader will be spending money on many more books.
Jacobs first explodes the fallacy of thinking for oneself, saying simply “it’s not a good idea” in chapter one. Thinkers have problems with their own thinking because they tend to think by themselves. Researchers(1) are whole people who must consider every aspect of their person invested in the research and (2) live in relationship with others whether they are met face-to-face or not. Of course, the flip-side of others-centered research is “group think” well documented in chapter two. Jacobs’ watchwords concerning posture, prudence, approach, and disposition are not to dismissed. Cultural maxims such as “tolerance” are often paid lip service in research but are woefully lacking in practice throughout chapter three. Assumptions, word-choice, online speed, and true versus false prejudices are a few of the “repulsions” Jacobs’ chapter denotes.
Words are the stock-in-trade of any thinker-writer-researcher yet can create their own problems.Metaphors, dichotomizing, “terministic screens,” and “in-other-wording” are just a few of the problem areas met in chapter four. Taxonomies and categorization are a continuation of the problems found in chapter five, rightly entitled “lumping.” Open minds – a fallacy explained and taken to task in chapter six – create fanatics and echo chambers rather than competent scholars. Understanding others’ minds is the short, impactful chapter seven where the reader learns the importance of code-switching: learning another’s cultural, linguistic dialect so as to enter into cultural conversation with forbearance (1 Cor 13:7; Eph 4:2; Col 3:13). The surprise of seeing that biblical word applied to thinking humanizes other thinkers and their thinking.
The power of Jacobs humanizing others is the strength of his book. He forces readers to see their reflections in the mirror. The “us versus them” mentality is too easily a substitute for thinking even in higher education. Over and over Jacobs calls attention to partisanship, polarization, and tribalism as the driving force behind unfair assessments. Applied to Christian higher education, words like “fairness” and “equity” should be readily observed; but that is not always the case. In a rush to demonstrate the wrong of another position or another approach there is a tendency to pillory the person, seeing research as adversarial if it does not fit within the scope of an accepted position or presupposition. But when we see ourselves as the corruptible persons we are, we are much more ready to identify with this centerpiece statement:
Over the years, I’ve had to acknowledge that some of the people whose views on education appall me are more devoted to their students than I am to mine; and that some of the people whose theological positions strike me as immensely damaging to the health of the church are nevertheless more prayerful and charitable, more Christlike, than I will ever be. . . . Being around those people forces me to confront certain truths about myself that I would rather avoid; and that alone is reason to seek every means possible to constrain the energies of animus (76-77).
I would offer three Greek concepts as summation of Jacobs’ concern here and throughout the book. Chronos carries with it the expanse of time not only to be dutiful to the amount we spend in our studies but the time we spend with others. It is one thing to interact with words on a page, quite another to converse face-to-face. Spending time with others in pursuit of truth is the essence of incarnational education.Logos sets our sights on words, the very delivery system for which academics depend. Yet we are not always honest with our words, definitions, or interpretations of others’ words. Jacobs makes us come to grips with our sometimes lack of honesty in our reportage. Ethos suggests the disposition, mindset, or attitude with which we approach our subjects or our students. Our approach born of our internal outlook necessitates a pruning for which we are incapable of wielding the shears. We need what Jacobs calls “the thinking person’s checklist” (155-56); that which keeps us “right-minded” so we can be “fairest-minded.” The summation of How to Think in three words gives an overview of a book which should be read and reread for all who care to think or teach others the discipline.
Spiders, beavers, cats, and owls give animalistic characteristics to their designed work in creation. Researchers would be well served to appropriate not only their characteristics for research processes but the pace with which life is achieved. One of the key concerns in thinking is the need to slow down. In a rush to produce and publish there is a need for reflection, for what the Psalmist calls selah: to pause, consider, deliberate, ponder, and think. Thinking takes time (chronos) to correctly assemble words (logos) to create from a faithful mindset (ethos). For the Christian educator our salvific regeneration should produce a sanctified restoration of How to Think. [See bibliographic reference below.]
Picture credit: snappygoat.com
How to Think: A Survival Guide for a World at Odds. By Alan Jacobs. New York, NY: Currency. 2017. 157 pp. $23.00. hardcover. Reviewed by Dr. Mark Eckel, Capital Seminary and Graduate School, Published in Christian Education Journal, July, 2018.
Smeagol-Gollum best captures our nature as humans. The one-and-the-same character from Lord of The Rings is a picture of the internal struggle we all face. Explaining our Smeagol-Gollum nature to students over many years, I teach two “D” words: dignity-depravity. I hyphenate the two terms to suggest that they are one-and-the-same within all of us. We protect life because all people are conceived with worth, value, and dignity. We protect people from other people because all people are also conceived with inherent corruption, disobedience, and sin. Both protections are true at the same time.
Smeagol-Gollum expresses the truth: humans are great and great sinners.
But some do not like to be called “sinners.” Their view of humanity resides more in a side-by-side comparison. In Eastern thinking “yin-yang” fosters a give-and-take mentality. In this view humans are not totality any one thing. There is an ebb-and-flow to life. Sometimes we are good, sometimes we are bad. Others would want to use the word “balance” to denote our nature. If we could just find the right balance, live the balanced life, sustain a daily balance, we could achieve our better humanity. Instead of so-called “balance” I have encouraged my students over the years to regard “tension” as the appropriate metaphor for how we should think about ourselves and life. I draw two arrows pointed at each other on the board, writing the word “tension” in between the two points. Two ideas can be true at the same time without full human understanding.
We hold seeming opposites as both true at the same time.
In theology, for instance, the tension-filled-pairs cited here only scratch the surface:
Divine sovereignty—human responsibility
Spirit—matter
Good—evil
Life—death [1]
The German theologian Karl Barth explained tension this way:
If we are to think about life, we must penetrate its hidden corners, and steadily refuse to treat anything—however trivial or disgusting it may seem to be—as irrelevant. To be sincere, our thought must share in the tension of human life, in its criss-cross lines, and in its kaleidoscopic movements. And life is neither simple, nor straightforward, nor obvious. [2]
Raphael’s famous “School of Athens” painting well symbolizes the concept of tension. Plato and Aristotle (center of painting) represented idealist and realist perspectives, the one thing and the many things. Both are “true.” Both are necessary. The philosophical relationship is a visual reminder that all points of view must be heard, understood, mediated, and ultimately corralled into coherence.
Do I believe it is impossible to know anything for certain? Of course not. Do I believe surety is beyond human ability in this life? Of course not. Do I believe that mystery is the last word in theology. Of course not. What I do believe is that our humanness limits our ability to fully comprehend anything. A key distinctive between God and man lies in our finitude. If we could understand and explain everything, we would be God. So, in this life we sometimes hold two, seemingly contradictory ideas, in tension.
The best physical example of tension is the placement of a keystone in a stone arch. When a stone arch is built, normally a wooden template is placed as the center around which the stones are cemented. As both sides of the arch are about to meet, a keystone is inserted as the connection, holding both sides together. Tension makes an arch possible.
Tension teaches a number of crucial ideas:
Knowledge is accessible, understanding is possible, but belief is essential
Certainty is possible based upon one’s belief
Guarantee of certainty is often mediated by unintended consequences
Humility is the essence of human knowledge, conditioning certainty
Charity to our neighbor is our response when our certainties disagree
Loyalty to our belief does not negate charity
Charity is a demonstration of true dialogue: two beliefs heard
Smeagol regains and retains his personhood over Gollum Lord of The Rings: Return of The King. The tension we feel now will someday be obliterated. In the mean time, care for people should give us focus, care in decision making should give us pause. While I do know many things, saying “I don’t know” is, at times, the best response I can give. But what I know for sure is that I may hold what seem to be opposites, in tension.
“Jesus was delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men” (Acts 2:23, ESV). In the same verse, divine sovereignty and human responsibility, both true, held in tension.
[1] Some Scriptural examples of tension-filled-pairs: Exodus 8:15 with Exodus 7:3; Isaiah 45:7 with Habakkuk 3:2; John 1:29 with Revelation 5:5; John 6:37 with John 6:44; Isaiah 9:6-7 with Matthew 10:34.
[2] Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans. 6th ed. (Oxford): 425.
Dr. Eckel has taught “tension” in theology for decades. [Originally published at WarpandWoof.org, May, 2013]
He argues in his first chapter of Orthodoxy that people may deny the existence of sin but accept the existence of mental hospitals: the latter as an obvious, albeit mysterious, outcome of the former. Herein is the essence of Chestertonian thought: the clarity of human sinfulness is a marker of mystery. Woven in and through The Father Brown stories, G.K. Chesterton exposes homicides piecing together the errant human heart.
Sherlock Holmes fans are used to deductive reasoning: a scientific analysis, assessing problems from the outside, in. Father Brown became the murderer because he was a murderer. Asked how he understood murder, Father Brown exclaims, “I had murdered them all myself.”[3] Chesterton’s sleuth, a Catholic priest, saw people as they were, from the inside, out. The mystery of our own nature continues: “The heart is hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out.”[4] Because of their link to the human condition, Chesterton’s detective stories unveil mystery.[5]
Human nature and Super nature seem to be the twin progenitors of Chesterton’s detective stories. Heaven’s Wisdom is imprinted in mystery; human depravity is the other side of the coin. Chesterton used one side of the coin to show the other. It is by the negative that we know the positive; sin leads us toward salvation, falsehood points us toward Truth. So Father Brown can say in The Honour of Israel Gow, “We have found the truth; and the truth makes no sense;”[6] because describing sin’s mystery in The Wrong Shape, “this business is anything but simple.” Yet his response to a potential suspect’s exclamation, “Are you a devil?!” in The Hammer of God is also true, “I have devils in my heart.”
Father Brown is comfortable in others’ skin because he wears his own. Or, choosing another metaphor from the story The Wrong Shape, “As one knows the crooked trail of a snail, I know the crooked track of a man”[7] “The secret is,” Father Brown advocates in The Secret of Father Brown
It was I who killed all those people. . . . You see, I had murdered them all myself, so of course I knew how it was done. . . . I had planned out each of the crimes very carefully. I had thought out exactly how a thing like that could be done, and in what style or state of mind a man could really do it. And when I was quite sure that I felt exactly like the murderer myself, of course I knew who he was.[8]
But Chesterton does not stop there. When his friend tries to accept Brown’s criminal culpability as “a figure of speech” Father Brown shows his annoyance. He refers to his explanation as discussing “deep things.”
I mean that I really did see myself, and my real self, committing the murder. . . . I mean that I thought and thought about how a man might come to be like that, until I realized that I really was like that, in everything except actual final consent to the action.[9]
Comparing his internal, inherent, corruption Father Brown then addresses “the science of detection.”
What do these men mean . . . when they say criminology is a science? They mean getting outside a man and studying him as if he were a gigantic insect; in what they would call a dry impartial light; in what I should call a dead and dehumanized light. . . . I don’t try to get outside the man. I try to get inside the murderer. . . . Indeed it’s much more than that, don’t you see? I am inside a man. . . . I wait till I know I am inside a murderer, thinking his thoughts, wrestling with his passions; till I have bent myself into the posture of his hunched and peering hatred; till I see the world with his bloodshot and squinting eyes . . . to the pool of blood. Till I am really a murderer. . . .[10]
Father Brown refers to the detection process as “a religious exercise”—his soul was a “diver” into the depths of human depravity.
Last summer I delivered a paper in St. Louis. While there my wife and I visited a casino: a first time event. Immediately upon entering the facility, I felt a pall fall upon me. My immediate response to Robin: “I’m afeared woman, I’m afeared.” Father Brown seemed also to have a sensate, sensual awareness knowing that places exist where “badness” and evil are resident. In Sins of Prince Saradine the padre becomes agitated saying “we have taken a wrong turning, and come to a wrong place.” Later, he wishes to be in “happier places and the homes of harmless men.”[11]
Yet, in the same story, Brown maintains “things that happen here . . . mean something somewhere else.”[12] If retribution does not come upon offenders in this life, it will in the next. Speaking of Kalon the sun priest in The Eye of Apollo the Father cements supernatural punishment by saying “Let Cain pass by because he belongs to God.”[13] While evil may inhabit a place, Father Brown knows there is a place where evil will live no more.
The mysterious nature of our own sinfulness suggests practical approaches to a number of subjects. My penchant is to wed ideas with practice, to suggest how after why.
1. We should form an apologetic of human corruption. The Chestertonian approach to The Gospel is to find common ground. Inherent sinfulness is our collective origin. If there is one thing that is normal, woven through the fabric of life, it is the black thread of trespass. Father Brown is at ease with sin, assumes it, counts on it, expects it, and finds it an easy pattern to follow. As a priest, hearing men’s confessions about men’s real sins, makes the good Father wholly aware of human evil; that is how he explains himself to Flambeau in The Blue Cross.
2. Once we agree on corruption we can establish an ethic of equality. All people are the same; we are worms from the same field. Equality ought not be a focus on diversity but unity. Equality is the unity of our DNA—our fallen nature knows no color, ethnicity, culture, time, or place. Chesterton ends an essay with this statement, “I have long believed that the only really happy and hopeful faith is a faith in the Fall of Man.”[14] And as the priest says in The Secret of Father Brown, “No man’s really any good till he knows how bad he is.”[15]
3. Knowing that we are all the same inside transforms our message to those outside. Writing for a human audience without chapter and verse, we should speak to people as people, not souls to be saved. So Chesterton closes Orthodoxy by considering The Church
As a truth-telling thing . . . Alone of all creeds [Christianity] is convincing where it is not attractive. . . . As it preaches original sin. But when we wait for its results, they are pathos and brotherhood, a thunder of laughter and pity. For only with original sin we can at once pity the beggar and distrust the king.”[16]
So the message is sent as the Father explains in The Queer Feet “with an unseen hook and an invisible line.”[17]
4. Comparisons to other religions dispatch human perfectibility. In The Eye of Apollo Flambeau sarcastically quips concerning a cult, “It’s one of those new religions that forgive your sins by saying you never had any.” Not to be outdone, Father Brown announces that there is only one spiritual disease, namely, “thinking one is quite well.”[18] Utopian beliefs based on human goodness and identified through all manner of government programs cannot sustain answers to human sin or mystery.
5. “Tolerance” is an empty cultural doctrine when our sameness trumps our difference. Chesterton attacked our current display of false civility in this way, “Tolerance, is the virtue of a people who don’t believe anything.”[19] In Heretics G.K. argued our humanity rests on our development of doctrine. Some insist, on the other hand, that acceptance of all beliefs is acceptable. Chesterton would point out in contradistinction such a perspective would lower us to “the unconsciousness of the grass. Trees have no dogmas. Turnips are singularly broad-minded.”[20] Whereas today’s doctrine of tolerance is built upon the structures of human perfectibility, Chesterton stood on the inherent corruption of humanity. Simply put in The Three Tools of Death, “Nothing poisons a life like sins.”[21]
6. Science alone cannot address human depravity. In The Wrong Shape the man of science admits in the end that his belief has abandoned him.[22] Chesterton, his opposite, maintains in his statements that truth is more important than facts. Particulars must be corralled by universals. The Hammer of God addresses the point as Brown says, “Fairy tales are the nearest thing to real truth” adding about the killer “then something snapped in your soul.”[23] To see the blackness of a man’s soul is exposed by the white light of righteousness—not a white lab coat.
7. Educators should push back against programs or curricula which seek to change from the outside, in. “Just say ‘no’ campaigns,” anti-smoking warnings, or safe-sex promotions do not engage our internal corruption. The Invisible Man detective story seems to suggest that we are liable to overlook sin in others because we do not “see them” as sinners. The private confessional at the end of the story reiterates the theme—no one saw the man for who he was save Father Brown. Those who blend into the canvas of the human portrait “have passions like other men,” Father Brown reminds. The human condition cannot be dressed up on the outside. Our inherent corruption must be redressed from the inside.
8. Original sin is inexorably linked with mystery. “As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity” says Chesterton.[24] As he maintains in Coming to America, a man “has no right to laugh at mystery as incomprehensible since he does not believe in the incomprehensible.”[25] So G.K. uses the term “romance” to describe Christianity’s sense of mystery since life is full of the dark realities of evil together with the joy of obedience to Christ. Again from Orthodoxy “man can understand everything by the help of what he does not understand.”[26] Flambeau links mystery to sin saying in the story The Wrong Shape of the good Father, “He gets a mystic cloud about him when there was evil quite near.”[27]
9. Original sin allows for priestly compassion. The wonder of Father Brown is the gentleness with which he treats the malefactors. “We can sometimes do good by being the right person in the wrong place” Brown says in Sins of Prince Saradine.[28]So the priest can cajole the murderer into a confession in The Wrong Shape.[29] Or, in the case of The Invisible Man, the Father could walk “those snow-covered hills under the stars for many hours with a murderer, and what they said to each other will never be known.”[30]
10. Father Brown’s “I murdered them all myself” belief continues to be the best apologetic through mystery novels and film noir. The attraction, the draw to mystery brings the reader to a precipice, a moment of decision. Jack Englehard’s Indecent Proposal, Scott B. Smith’s A Simple Plan, or Robert B. Parker’s Jesse Stone stories, remind us of human depravity—looking in so we can look up. A reviewer of The Scandal of Father Brown stories said it best, “The souls and hearts and consciences of men were so important to Chesterton that [sometimes] he preferred to leave the crime out altogether.”[31]
What makes a literary mystery, a strong Christian apologetic? I believe my daughter, at age 9, answered the question best. When I asked her some fifteen years ago what made a mystery, a mystery she said, “Someone has to kill someone or steal something.” Pressed further to know why mysteries were important for Christians to read, Chelsea replied, “Because they show us that we are sinners.”
Father Brown would be proud.
Dr. Mark Eckel believes sin is the essence of story. This address was delivered at the C. S. Lewis Conference at Taylor University, Upland, IN, June, 2010. It was published in the Fall, 2010 issue of Integrite: A Journal of Faith and Learning and in a compendium of presentations at the Inklings conference.
[1] Father Brown’s response to Wilfred Bohun’s exclamation, “Are you a devil?” G.K. Chesterton, “The Hammer of God.” Omnibus, 174-75.
[2] G.K. Chesterton. 1908. Orthodoxy. New York, NY: John Lane Company, 24.
[3] G. K. Chesterton, “The Secret of Father Brown,” The Collected Works of G. K. Chesterton (Ignatius, 1986): 217.
Meditation should concern itself with the content of thoughtful reflection as well as the methods of contemplation. Many faiths have meditative practices. Christians focus their deliberation on the text of Scripture focusing on Christ’s person and work.
Biblical Theology of Meditation
Reflection is a term that originates with Hebrew words for meditate. One word gives the impression of a “groan” (Ps. 5:1) or a “moan” (Isa. 38:14; 59:11). Psalm 19:14 captures the most famous reflective statement containing thoughts expressed in words, “Let the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.” Silent rehearsal, turning something over in one’s mind, ends in an enthusiastic, emotion-filled confession. The believer then orchestrates God’s works to all those around (1 Chr. 16:9; Ps. 105:2). Once the silent reflection is told to others, the teaching continues to “talk” to the reflective heart: whether walking, lying down, or awake (Pro. 6:20-22). Meditation is to continue all the time (“day and night,” Josh. 1:8; Ps. 1:2; 119:97, 99) and even during sleepless hours (Ps. 4:4; 63:6; 77:6). The focus of Hebraic-Christian meditation is on all God’s works and words (Ps. 77:12; 119:27; 145:5).
Meditation shows what is valuable to the believer. Selah, the repetitious word found throughout the Psalms, communicates value by its definition: to hang, weigh, or measure. The term was used in the Old Testament when people used scales to identify the cost or weight of an object (Job 28:15-16). Selah functions as an interlude to weigh a thought. One stops, pauses, ponders, considers, and thinks. The biblical implication is to take a break, take a minute, or take a breath (Ps. 3, 24, 46). Practicing biblical meditation links the temporal with the eternal.
The righteous are to deliberate over proper answers (Pro. 15:28), meditating on the implications (Ps. 1:2). “I thought to myself” and “I thought in my heart” are both a frequent and summary statements in the book (1:16; 2:1, 15; etc.). Leaving no stone unturned, life was “tested by wisdom” (Ecc. 7:23). Solomon declares, “Look, this is what I have discovered, this is what I have found” (Ecc. 6:11-12; 7:27, 29; 12:9). Solomon’s recurring meditation is that a God-centered life leads to gladness, satisfaction, and contentment (Ecc. 2:24-25; 3:12-13; 5:18-20; 7:14; 8:15; 9:9).
Biblical Philosophy of Meditation
Meditation could comprise a number of threads. Simple observations could prompt new or recurring thoughts, ideas, perspectives, or questions. The reader could identify reasons to accept, corroborate, or pursue a biblical author’s thinking. Personal musing and rumination may possibly produce ideas for the practice of any concept. The Hebraic-Christian lifeview rests on essential ideas established in Scripture and reflected upon by the believer
Believers ponder the importance of many Scriptural ideas. There is a consequence of meaning, “Why?” being the chief question in life. Making sense of reality—all inclusive of what is seen and unseen—arising from a meditation of beginnings and ends. The eternal plan of God stimulates meditation: how God sustains His creation while preparing for its culmination. The Creator’s good gifts to humanity encourage meditation while Christians commit themselves to being caretakers of everything given. Meditation provokes the responsibility to teach the next generation to remember God’s work.
Meditation should provide biblical, relational, generational learning opportunities for the believing community. Practical learning opportunities should include
(1) The Revelational—Scripture will be the foundation of all study.
(2) The Relational—dialogue will be engaged within the Christian community.
(3) The Perennial—eternal, universal, great ideas will be understood as “true Truth” dependent upon God as the source of knowledge.
(4) The Historical—a Hebraic-Christian study of history begins in eternity acknowledging the purposeful work of God through persons and nations.
(5) The Experiential—wedding truth with life is encouraged through personal introspection, meditation, and reflection by reading The Text and all other texts, through communion with The Word, The Spirit, and The Body (both in the universal and historical Church).
(6) The Creational—the physical setting of creation allows believers the enjoyment of reflective study in God’s Word engaged with God’s world.
Christian Practice of Meditation
Meditation can prompt the Christian community to recognize and discuss biblical truths and their application to personal life. Interpretation of cultural issues with The Spirit’s illumination of Scripture is an important Christian reflection. Critiquing categories of thought antithetic to Christian teaching is imperative. Proposing solutions to civic and cultural responsibilities within a biblical framework could arise out of meditation. Evaluation of personal commitments to change could keep one in step with The Spirit.
Pastoral renewal is an imperative for the practice of meditation. Workshops for Christian leaders could include teaching on and practice of meditation. Lecture-discussions for interested parties would profit meditation’s promotion. Film review should involve reflection. Reflective weekend summits, retreats, and educational dialogue may generate curriculum, position papers, articles, or reviews all because believers took time to stop, pause, consider, and think God’s thoughts after Him.
I remember like it was yesterday. Televisions were being brought to landings around the workout facility where I had just finished lifting weights. We all watched in horror as two planes destroyed the twin towers in New York City, another targeted the Pentagon. I remember the walk to the train station – I was living and working in Chicago at the time – as a city was being emptied of its people. The sound of a sonic boom erupted above me as fighter jets flew over Chicago, another potential, terrorist target. Arriving home all of America was glued to its television sets, wondering what had just happened.
I awoke this morning, sick to my stomach. My first prayers this weekend have been for the Afghan people, many of whom have, for twenty years been the beneficiaries of American military might protecting them from despotism. I have prayed for our veterans whose selflessness in sacrifice has been the deterrent against tyranny. I cannot begin to imagine their thoughts today as they see the results of their work eviscerated. As the stories of evacuation continue in the coming days, my prayers will shift to individual needs. But today, I also pray for America. I pray for the soul of our nation. I pray that we might remember our place in the world in God’s Providence. Proverbs 28 and 29 are peppered with statements that explain what happens to a people, depending upon those who govern. The universal ideals embedded in biblical theology are watchwords for this or any nation: “When the righteous triumph there is great joy, but when the wicked rise, people hide themselves” (28:12).
The notes included here (Mindset Notes KLAIM #5) were first developed for high school teaching in the 1990’s and have been used in various venues since.
Lewis Carroll, author of Alice in Wonderland, summarizes the problem with words. We ask good questions such as “Can I trust what you say?” or “How do you know that my words are true?” 
This summer I will concern myself with the appropriation of words. Cultural usages of Hebraic-Christian terms will be investigated (e.g. redemption, guilt, salvation, forgiveness). If ever someone wanted to call out cultural appropriation – which is the adoption of certain elements of another culture by the dominant culture – 
the history of a person is a reminder to us all, a reminder that people make a difference. “WHO WAS HE?” marks a time, a past, a person who mattered to others before our time. And now that we know something of that person, place, and time, how will it impact us? Will we hear the news of someone’s passing and say, “That’s too bad,” not giving the moment another thought? “WHO WAS HE?” should play a part in our changing, in our maturation, in our respect.
Hall of Fame. Neither will there be an ESPN to remind others of our legacy. Nothing may remain of us save items for sale on a Goodwill shelf. “WHO WAS HE?” brings to mind a series of questions:
