Urbana Theological Seminary


October 21, 2011

Thinking Christianly about Children’s Stories

Filed under: Art — admin @ 4:10 pm

written by Dr. Melody Green

Frequently, parents I know ask me what books would be good for their children. Since my area of specialization is literature for children and adolescents, this is not particularly surprising.  I have, however, occasionally been asked a different question:  a few parents, instead of looking for specific titles, have asked for information about what I have heard called “reading as a Christian.”  Essentially, what these parents appear to be looking for is a structure or a model that can be applied not just to the “good” books, but to any story, whether book, film or even game, that their children encounter.  What follows here is not one fully-developed structure or model that Christians can apply to all literature, but is instead a set of loosely connected ideas on the topic that may be useful  not just for parents, but any Christian who is thinking about story.

First, stories, especially the stories that adults hand children, are important.  In her book Looking Glasses and Neverlands: Lacan, Desire and Subjectivity in Children’s Literature, Dr. Karen Coats asserts that the stories a child encounters shape who that child is and becomes. Coats states that “stories have a profound effect on the growth, the image, and the perceived needs” of the individual (1).  If such is the case, then it is important to understand not only how this works, but what stories have helped shape who we are and who we are in the process of becoming.

Second, stories reflect not only their authors’ beliefs, but also the ideas and attitudes of the culture in which that story was created.  This is harder to see in a new book than in an old one, since the ideas and attitudes presented in the new book are more likely to be similar to one’s own than those in an older book.  But this is why it is important to read both old and new books, to watch both old and new movies, and to listen to both old and new stories.  As C. S. Lewis recommends in his introduction to St. Athanasius’s The Incarnation of the Word of God, “It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.” (6)  This may be a bit extreme, but it is easier to see the attitudes and assumptions of one’s own culture when they are set against older ideas.

Third, some people do appear to need a basic model to help them think through what they are reading. If that is the case, then I recommend the following set of questions: What does this story say about who people are? Who my neighbor is?  Who I am? Who God is? And, finally, what is my responsibility toward each of these?  These are questions that most, if not all, stories offer answers to. These answers are rarely simply stated by characters or a narrator; instead, they are often found in the relationship between the actions and the consequences of those actions.  Pay attention to who is doing or saying something, why they are doing or saying it, and most importantly, what the results of that statement or action are. At the same time, remember that not everything that happens in a story is presented as something that should be approved of.  Sometimes, horrible things must happen in stories so that good can be presented later. Sometimes, even the best characters do the wrong thing.  Pay attention to end results of these actions.

Fourth, it is ok to read a book that presents a worldview that you don’t agree with. But be aware of what that worldview is, and where it differs from a Christian worldview.

Fifth, theology should never be based on fiction – no matter how “Christian” the author is, or how frequently he is quoted in sermons. Fiction can help us understand truth, but should not be viewed as a primary guidepost.

Sixth, there is always more going on in a story than simply “what the author intended” or even “what it means to me.” Sometimes the things that are hardest to notice are the ones that are most important to think about because of what they say about who we are and what we expect of ourselves and others.

Seventh, even when discussing stories, Christ calls us to love God and our neighbors. Our neighbors include people who like stories we don’t like, and even people who have written stories we feel are somehow “wrong” or “inappropriate.”  We are responsible, therefore, to share the love of Christ even with these people.

Finally, possibly the most important thing for Christians to keep in mind when thinking about story is that when God became man and walked on this earth, one of the things he did was tell stories. Memorable ones. And he rarely took the time to explain them. This, if nothing else, points out the importance of story.  His stories are straightforward, but they have such themes as wisdom, honor, compassion, sacrifice, forgiveness, love, and good vs. evil. These, in turn, are the same themes explored by many of today’s most controversial stories created for young audiences.  These are the things that story is about. These are the things that being a human created in the image of God is about.

Works Cited

Coats, Karen. Looking Glasses and Neverlands:  Lacan, Desire, and Subjectivity in Children’s Literature.  Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2004.

Lewis, C. S. “Introduction.”  The Incarnation of the Word of God: Being the Treatise of St. Athanasius. New York: Macmillian, 1957.  5-12.


October 14, 2011

An Elegy on Indiscriminate Eulogizing: The Curious Case of Steve Jobs

Filed under: Ethics — admin @ 2:32 pm

Written by Dr. Todd Daly, Assistant Professor of Theology and Ethics at Urbana Theological Seminary

Last week, the world lost a revolutionary, a giant in the computer industry who has forever changed the way we relate to one another. Immediately after his passing, tributes to Steve Jobs flooded the internet. The major news networks chronicled the life and success of this modern day ‘Thomas Edison,’ praising his innovative way of thinking, his flouting of standard business practice for success, his near impossibly high standards of excellence, his unflinching insistence that his products were exactly as he thought they should be, and his marketing genius. Sure, Jobs may have been unconventional, overbearing, demanding, and difficult to work with, but one cannot argue with the results—products that have changed the world, while generating profit margins that all but the most hardened capitalist would consider obscene.

This of course was to be expected. I was troubled however, to find so many Christians readily joining in the unanimous chorus of praise to the god of Apple. Some echoed the poem on fakesteve.net, extolling the joy created by Jobs, the childlike sense of wonder that he restored, and ‘the belief that something magical was just around the corner.’ Without a doubt, Apple produces amazing products. Whether Christians should so willingly embrace the wonder created by these products is another matter. That we need technology to reinvigorate our sense of wonder bespeaks a malady that was formerly known as sloth, understood as the inability to enjoy true leisure, the inability to be moved by the ‘mundane.’ In a world which increasingly reflects the image of homo faber, it appears that nature is so ‘over’; creation is so ‘yesterday.’

This should not be read as a Luddite rant. Technology has transformed our lives in many positive ways. What I find deeply troubling however, is the way Christians have so readily and unreflectively embraced and even celebrated the pseudo-world we now inhabit. The many comments posted by Christians on the passing of Steve Jobs lead me to believe that too many of us have uncritically become disciples of Steve. The Rapture has indeed come, and those of us who have not been swept up, or at least feel as though we ought to first consider how these technologies may shape us, have been left behind (all apologies to Larry Norman), scorned and ridiculed by Christians who don’t see what the big deal is. Make no mistake, Apple is the perfect religion in a culture that celebrates consumption. And too many Christians have failed to grasp this.

We wait in line at our local Apple store at midnight in expectation of receiving the latest release, celebrating the euangellion with others—the ‘good news,’ boasting of our unflinching devotion to the next evolution of technology that will once again bring us that rush of joy that the current product has long stopped evoking. To be sure, consumption on one level may indeed just be a matter of semiotics, but there is a deeper, metaphysical aspect to our consumption of apple products, a participatory ontology at work which befits the notion of sacrament. Just as for many Christians the bread and wine are a means of grace, signs that point to and participate in the reality to which they point, so the iPad is the new sacrament of this latest ‘Great Awakening.’ To possess one is to participate in a movement bigger than oneself, to become a follower of ‘The Way.’

We fail to see how we have been ‘schooled’ under this pedagogy of desire, trained to want things that will restore our sense of joy and wonderment in a fallen world. This too is deeply ironic. The marketing campaign ‘think different’ is built on the assumption that we must be trained to think alike—that we simply can’t manage without the i-Whatever. Jobs succeeded in convincing us that we’re unique and alike simultaneously, and at the core, consumers. When we dare to ‘think different,’ we are joining the company of revolutionaries like Gandhi, so the commercial suggests, which would be downright laughable were it not so deeply offensive.

It is certainly right to mourn the passing of Steve Jobs. But we should be cautious against praising everything he stood for. While owning Apple products is not necessarily antithetical to being a Christ-follower, we cannot be disciples of Christ and Steve at the same time. It is good to be reminded however that as Christians we follow a true revolutionary, One before whom everyone—including the great Steve Jobs—must give an account. And there’s no app for that.


October 6, 2011

Jonathon Edwards continued

Filed under: Christians throughout History — admin @ 1:38 pm

Written by Dr. Bob Smart, adjunct faculty Urbana Theological Seminary

Preceding the Great Awakening was a general cry or plea for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. When that generation’s prayer appeared to be answered, many questioned why there was a mixture of fanaticism accompanying such a mighty effusion of the Spirit of God. Since the central question of the Great Awakening was not a question of vitality but of legitimacy, Edwards sought to discern a true work of the Spirit and to defend it as such. This is why Edwards’s sermon Distinguishing Marks of a True Work of the Spirit of God at Yale’s commencement, given at the height of the revival, had such a great impact.

One of the benefits of reading and studying Edwards’s apologetic of the Great Awakening as a genuine work of the Spirit is all that one can learn and appropriate to one’s own Christian experience and Gospel ministry. Here are three “take-a-ways” from my own study.

First, every true revival and outpouring of the Spirit is a sovereign work of God. Just as Jesus said to Nicodemus, “the Spirit blows wherever He wills” (John 3:8). The proponents and opposers of the revival had no control over when, how long, or where the Spirit would manifest God’s power and love for people. The work began inWalesin 1739, then in New England in 1740-1741, and came intensely inScotlandin 1742-43. Such a short period of time, but great was the impact for generations after.

Second, nothing shows more the impotency of man without the Spirit’s effects than a revival. After the 1734-35 revivals inNorthampton, Edwards could do nothing to re-awaken his community again. Suddenly, in 1740, the “dead bones” rose to life. After 1744, Edwards and the friends of the Awakening could not obtain the same spiritual fervor in their ministries.

Thirdly, every true work of the Spirit is a mixed work. Satan always mixes up the good with the bad. Edwards taught that the Devil held back the saints as long as he possibly could from revival. When the Spirit was poured out, the Devil would push the saints too far into fanaticism. Edwards, therefore, would not defend the radical proponents of the Great Awakening. In fact, he said that “the friends of revival are often its’ worst enemies.” We should not expect an ideal revival because there never has been one, nor will there ever be one. Revivals quicken the Kingdom’s advance, but are complicated with new problems and challenges as well.

Every leader ought to study the great periods of revival and missionary advance in order to learn to discern more about the nature of the Person and work of the Holy Spirit. Edwards offers the student plenty of material for such an endeavor.