Why Our Politics Is So Crazy Right Now
In the streaming era, $25 million is an impressive weekend at the box office. “Civil War” is the movie which grossed that impressive figure last weekend, directed by Alex Garland of A24 studios. While I question whether enough Americans today have the discretionary time and attention span for a full-blown Civil War, our political acrimony is nearing the critical threshold for such a crisis. And it’s an election year, so who knows.
How did we reach this point? Why has our politics become toxic in tone and divided in substance? David Brooks’ article “How America Got Mean,” offers several explanations for our public unrest:
The technology story: Social media is driving us all crazy.
The sociology story: We’ve stopped participating in community organizations and are more isolated.
The demography story: America, long a white-dominated nation, is becoming a much more diverse country, a change that has millions of white Americans in a panic.
The economy story: High levels of economic inequality and insecurity have left people afraid, alienated, and pessimistic.
Brooks also highlights the failure of our cultural institutions to restrain selfishness, teach empathy, and provide a sense of purpose.
Alongside Brooks, I agree with all those stories to an extent. However, I want to tell another story that hasn’t been told. I’ll call it the thymos story.
The Thymos and Identity Politics
The thymos, according to Plato, is the part of the soul that craves recognition. For many, this validation comes from membership in groups like their family, work, or church. Those institutions have collapsed in recent years, prompting many Americans to turn to politics to fill their tbymos. Political groups often form around shared identities such as nation, ethnicity, religion, gender or sexual orientation.
According to the political scientist Francis Fukuyama, identity politics emerges when a group’s collective thymos takes offense at the prevailing social order.[i] Political leaders mobilize their followers around the perception that their group’s dignity has been challenged, belittled, or otherwise ignored. Fueled by resentment, the group’s organizing principle involves securing public recognition and cultural respect.
Identity politics revolves around seeking validation and recognition. That’s why symbols like flags, holidays, statues, and public statements become equal in significance to policy initiatives. Both Left and Right are forming coalitions of aggrieved citizens, driven by the desire for personal validation and cultural supremacy.
Junior High Lunchrooms
Duke social scientist Chris Bail conducted research on the most frequent posters of extreme political content on Facebook. Bail interviewed Ed, a daily viewer of Fox & Friends and social media troll. Ed revealed that he loves ‘owning the libs’ on social media because it is “cathartic and helps him cope with social isolation.” He reported feeling “like a micro-celebrity” on Twitter when retweeted by other right-wing users.[ii]
Ed’s political engagement is not motivated by fulfilling civic duties or advocating for specific policies. Instead, he seeks to create an identity and fill an inner emptiness. When people like Ed begin to dominate the public sphere, it morphs from a marketplace of ideas to a junior high lunchroom. American politics today is not a group conversation about the best policies to achieve economic growth; it is a war among identity groups lacking psychological security. The collective Thymos is empty.
Augustine and Ed
Augustine of Hippo’s fourth century book Confessions chronicles his attempts to satisfy his soul. As a boy, he sought recognition from his peers and parents through academic achievement. Later in his twenty’s, he sought meaning through romantic relationships. Upon leaving Carthage for Rome, he devoted himself to public rhetoric, aiming to ascend to the Emperor’s court in the eternal city.
Towards the end of Book 4, Augustine reflects to his younger self:
“With what destination in mind are you walking, endlessly, endlessly, on those hard paths of suffering? There’s no rest where you’re looking for it.”[iii]
Augustine’s story may appear disconnected from Ed’s and our contemporary political divide. But a closer examination reveals a society of restless people.
Our political moment is crazy because the most engaged among us are pursuing emotional validation through partisan warfare. Alienated and insecure, they are in the junior high lunchroom, striving for attention and significance.
A thymos filled by God’s love can engage in politics from a place of psychological stability. From that space, politics shifts from a zero-sum game for cultural supremacy to a productive dialogue about how we can build a healthy society. Then we can recognize different identities without being threatened by them.
And perhaps – we could avoid a Civil War.
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[i] Fukuyama, Francis. Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2018. Check out his book here.
[ii] Bail, Chris. Breaking the Social Media Prism: How to Make Our Platforms Less Polarizing. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2022. You can order his book here.
[iii] Augustine. Confessions. Translated by Sarah Ruden. New York: Modern Library, 2017.
Glenn Wishnew
Associate Director
(est 3 min)
Saturday Hope
As his [Jesus’] body was taken away, the women from Galilee followed and saw the tomb where his body was placed. Then they went home and prepared spices and ointments to anoint his body. But by the time they were finished the Sabbath had begun, so they rested as required by law. Luke 23:55-56 NLT
Hope can be easy when what we hope for is staring us in the face, when the stakes are low and the timeline short. Hope can be easy when all the variables are on the table and we can predict the outcome. When our need is simple and obtainable and we have a clear handle on our situation, we may think we don’t even need hope. We find ourselves confident in our own abilities rather than confident in Jesus, our Living Hope. This is a dangerous place to be because, at some point, we will be in a really tough spot. A spot where we can’t see what we hope for and have no handle at all on our situation. A spot where hope is what we need most. A spot where we must hold on and wait for hope to become visible, tangible, and within our grasp.
That must be where these faithful women found themselves on the Sabbath following Jesus’ crucifixion. Imagine them staggering home late Friday afternoon, dusty and tired, shell-shocked and saddened. They had just witnessed the brutal execution of an innocent man, someone they dearly loved—the Son of God! They had experienced frightening midday darkness and a jarring earthquake. Standing around the foot of the cross they would have been surrounded by Roman soldiers carrying out their cruel punishment while the Savior’s blood and sweat splattered on unforgiving ground. Don’t you think they were emotionally spent, battered and bruised, grieving and worn? Surely they were physically exhausted, hungry and shaking, longing for deep body and soul rest that would certainly not come at that moment of total upheaval. They must have been spiritually confused, yearning for insight into all they had just witnessed. And yet, what did they do? One simple thing. One thing they had learned and practiced all their lives. One thing they saw Jesus model when He walked the earth. In obedience, they rested. And they waited.
How strangely counterintuitive. How like our God, though. When everything in us screams, “Say something! Go somewhere! Do something!” He says, “Wait. Rest. Obey. Your Hope is here.”
Hoping and waiting go hand in hand. We see this truth throughout God’s Word. Even from an earthly standpoint, hoping means waiting! If we aren’t in a position of waiting for what is hoped for, then we have either already obtained it, or it’s not worth waiting for. The challenge for us as followers of Jesus is to continually deposit all we hope for into the capable hands of our Living Hope, and then—like Mary Magdalene, Salome, and the other Mary—wait.
We must rest in our uncertain situation, certain of our Living Hope.
The author of Psalm 119 was clearly a lover of God and a lover of His Word. And thankfully, for us, he was an honest recorder of his own spiritual struggles. There are two types of waiting described in this verse, one in the first half and one in the second:
I am worn out waiting for your rescue, but I have put my hope in your word. Psalm 119:81 NLT
The Hebrew word used to convey waiting in the first half is kalah, suggesting the idea of something or someone being consumed, spent, or used up. It can imply wasting away or exhaustion. This part of Psalm 119:81 expresses an agonized wait, however, the pivotal word in the verse is ‘but.’ “But I have put my hope in your word.”
That brings us to the second type of waiting. The Hebrew word used here for hope is yachal, meaning to wait, hope, expect. Hoping and waiting go hand in hand.
Mary Magdalene and the other women must have experienced both types of waiting as they obediently observed the Sabbath. They undoubtedly felt like the rug had been yanked out from under them, that the world was against them, like all hope was lost. At the same time, we have to wonder, did a flicker of hope blaze within them? They had walked with the Living God. They heard words of life flow from His mouth. They experienced supernatural displays of God’s broken heart signaling to the watching world that this was no ordinary death. As they observed that Sabbath, don’t you wonder what words from Scripture flowed through their hearts and from their mouths? What words of truth, words of life, words of hope did they breathe as they waited?
What do you wait in hope for today?
When you find yourself longing for God’s divine intervention in your life, hoping and waiting for the realization of your deepest needs and desires, where do you turn to feed your hope?
For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope. Romans 15:4 NIV
Let all that I am wait quietly before my God, for my hope is in him. Psalm 62:5 NLT
We can wait with confident hope dear friends—because Sunday is coming!
8 Misunderstandings around Vocation and Calling
I have always struggled with the idea that God is calling me to do something. I understood the primary calling to follow Jesus, and to walk in the ways of the Lord. This is often referred to as a ‘general calling.’ God clearly beckons people in this way, over and over.
The challenge for me came in what the Puritans named the ‘particular calling’ – the idea that an individual had a specific assignment from God. Known as a vocation, a particular calling is a match between someone’s personal gifts and their society’s need.
Vocations come with all the accouterments of gifting, deep joy, opportunity, and validation by a community. The sequence goes like this: God calls a person. The individual senses God’s direction. Those around the person affirm it. The world benefits when the person answers the call with faithful action.
I knew the formula, or at least read about it, but I still experienced confusion. I don’t think I’m the only one.
Below are 8 common misunderstandings that might impact someone you know as they think about God’s call and direction in their vocation.
1. God only calls people to become a priest (or pastor). This was one of the great conflicts during the Reformation era. Luther believed that “God is milking the cows through the vocation of the milkmaid.” He also insisted that the milkmaid and the farmer were doing ministry like the preacher. If God engineered creation to include human mediation, then our daily work of bringing cultivated goods from created raw material is an act of obedience. God gives us the cows. We collect the milk. Within this structure, each person receives particular gifts from God and responsibilities to their neighbor. God invites more than the priests to serve.
2. God only calls people with an audible voice. You might be different, but I am certainly one of those people who thought only Moses and Samuel and Isaiah had ‘callings’ because they heard directly from God. Similarly, some of us assume that if we haven’t had a dramatic moment (could even be a still small voice), we don’t have a calling. This isn’t the case. Many times, God’s call to us involves the ordinary means of prayer, the everyday conversations with others, and the normal affirmation of our work. These mundane moments often reveal God’s assignment in our lives.
3. God only calls the righteous. Perhaps you believe that you’re not good enough at the Christian life for God to put you in the game.You’re not a varsity player; you don’t even think you are invited to tryouts. Mt. 9:13 reminds us though that Jesus did not come to call the righteous but the sick. If this is true about salvation, it is equally true about who gets to do God’s work in all spheres of society. The invitation hasn’t changed: come as you are.
4. God’s calling only refers to salvation. Now, it is true (and important) to note the Bible primarily talks about “calling” as a call to Christ. God calls to salvation, hope, repentance, feasting, fasting, fellowship, forgiveness, – to follow him. (Mk. 1:16-20; Acts 2:39; I Cor 1:26; I Cor 7:7-14; 2 Tim 1:9, etc). Still, God’s original command to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it,” (Genesis 1:28-29) is a calling. Add to it other passages (Exod. 20:9, Jer 29:4-9, etc.) and the call of God on all humans is to take responsibility for tending and cultivating the world. Work remains God’s good idea.
5. God’s calling only refers to career. When preachers or business leaders emphasize God’s call to work, we (yes, I’m guilty) subtly imply compensation. Work equals what we are paid to do. Thankfully, people like Tom Nelson and others have properly reframed work as contribution, not simply compensation. [1] This validates those working in unpaid care roles like young children, physically disabled, or aging parents. It also implicates those who are ‘retired’ or in a life stage where finances are no longer a consideration. All the relationships, roles, and responsibilities God has providentially placed me in at this time are within the scope of his calling. Don’t look past those arenas.
(The first 5 misunderstandings are largely fostered in church contexts. They were for me. The final 3 misunderstandings grow out of a modern secular influence.)
6. Calling is another form of self-actualization. Modern people discover meaning and fulfillment through an endless variety of means. Lee Hardy simplifies the cultural taxonomy of sociologist Robert Bellah by describing two distinct roadmaps. [2] First, the Utilitarian Individualists are the success driven, outcome oriented, climbers who locate the meaning of life in the world of work. Often they will sacrifice private life or family for the sake of career advancement. Expressivist Individualists turn away from the world of work, bow out of the rat race, to either relationships or leisure activities or experiences to find meaning. Hardy (and Bellah) shows how both are twists on the Christian version of work as a call to serve the common good, not fulfill one’s inner needs. Christians don’t work for themselves, but for others and ultimately for God.
7. Calling requires you to leave faith at home. The modern secular workplace discourages inviting faith to join you at work, erecting a wall of separation between private values and public activities. Secularism’s wall is a legal facade. The first amendment was not intended to drop personal values from public life. When misinterpreted, the result is a privatized faith and a misunderstanding of calling. This secular instinct muddles the Christian impulse to bring faith to work. Vocation is not limited to private spaces.
8. Calling means ‘You are what you do.” Not a modern innovation, this idea has been around for a while. Most people’s identity was so tied to their work that they added surnames like Miller or Baker or Semiconductor-Chipmaker (maybe not the last one). Attaching your work to your identity is a fatal move. When work becomes everything, disorientation is inevitable. Job loss, sickness, and retirement leave us empty. We’re left nameless. In one sense, since we are created to work and find we can’t work, it is worth lamenting. In another sense, Christians always work from their name – ‘my beloved son or daughter’ –not for their name.
These common misunderstanding keep us from seeing God’s work in our lives. Os Guinness, who set many people on a journey to rightly understand God’s Call, helps frame our second callings (our vocation) in light of our first calling. I’ll give him the last word:
He writes, “First and foremost, we are called to someone (God), not to something (such as motherhood, politics, or teaching) or to somewhere (such as the inner city or Outer Mongolia). Our secondary calling, considering who God is as sovereign, is that everyone everywhere, and in everything should think, speak, live, and act entirely for him. We can therefore properly say as a matter of secondary calling that we are called to homemaking or to law or to the practice of art history. But these and other things are always the secondary, never the primary calling. They are ‘callings’ rather than the ‘calling.’ They are our personal answer to God’s address, our response to God’s summons. Secondary calling matters, but only because primary calling matters most.” [3]
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Tom Nelson, Work Matters: Connecting Sunday Worship to Monday Work. Crossway (2011).
Lee Hardy, The Fabric of The Fabric of This World: Inquiries into Calling, Career Choice, and the Design of Human Work. Eerdmans (1990).
Os Guinness, The Call: Finding and Fulfilling the Central Purpose of Your Life, Thomas Nelson (2003).
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, February 2024 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
(est 4-5 min)
Glenn Wishnew
Associate Director
(est 2-3 min)
Cracks: My Dad, Parkinson’s and the Hope of Christ
The doctor asked my dad to extend both hands, palms down and hold still for 5 seconds. 57 years old with a gray beard flowing down his chin, my dad took a deep breath and extended his arms forward. His right hand held steady. His left hand did not. Tremors, twitchy vibrations from his elbow down to his fingertips, flooded his left arm.
My dad has Parkinson’s disease. Parkinson’s is a neuro-degenerative disorder that causes uncontrollable movements and difficulty with coordination. As the disease progresses, patients may develop sleep issues, depression, and cognitive decline. There is no known cure.
Later, my dad was asked to step outside into the hallway and walk in a straight line to the nurse who stood 10 yards away. Dad tried, and then drifted steadily toward the wall. I walked back into the doctor’s office. I did not need to see more.
Looking back on that day, I experienced a crack. Cracks are moments when our bedrock beliefs fracture. They happen when the person we knew, or the future we assumed, or the life we pursued, become disfigured.
For 24 years, my dad was the family’s Xanax that absorbed pain and effused comfort. He was sturdy and strong, capable and resilient. These weren’t personality traits subject to change; they were character traits tied to his identity. But there he was – hands shaking, struggling to walk, diagnosed with a disorder that leads to decades of decline. How? Why? Crack.
When Steve Jobs was 13 years old, he saw a picture of two starving children from Biafra in a magazine. The future founder of Apple went to his pastor and asked if God knew about these kids. His pastor answered “Steve, I know you don’t understand, but yes, God knows about that.” The pastor implied that God did not want to intervene. Jobs stormed out and never stepped foot into a church again.
Like Jobs, our culture recoils at reductive explanations for suffering. Platitudes like “God has a plan” and “everything happens for a reason” appear trite and unempathetic. Without these meanings, however, we’re left with a vacuum.
Paul Brand spent the first part of his medical career in India and the last part of his career in the U.S as an orthopedic surgeon. He wrote “In the United States, I encountered a society that seeks to avoid pain at all costs. Patients lived at a greater comfort level than any I had previously treated, but they seemed far less equipped to handle suffering and far more traumatized by it.”
What Jobs sought from his pastor, and what Brand noticed was lacking in his patients, was a meaning attached to suffering which can justify the pain.
However, it was not merely suffering which needed to be justified in that hospital room. Beneath the surface hurt of seeing my dad vulnerable and weak, lied the lurking sense of his mortality. I wasn’t afraid of Parkinson’s that day; I was afraid of my dad’s death.
Ireneaus, the second century Christian thinker, once said “The glory of God is man fully alive.” Because God’s glory is displayed by bringing life from death, I can respond to the quaking fear with a greater faith. While my subconscious hope that my dad would never die has been shattered, I have a deeper hope still.
The doctrine of the resurrection of the body means that my dad, by faith in Jesus, will overcome the grave. One day, he will walk straight to Jesus and he will stretch out his hands to touch the Lord of Love. This time, clothed in resurrection glory, his hands will be still while his heart is moved.
© Glenn Wishnew | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, January 2024 Edition
Our Light
“First this: God created the Heavens and Earth—all you see, all you don’t see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God’s Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss. God spoke, ‘Light.’” (Genesis 1:1 MSG)
In the beginning, God used his first creative words to manufacture light. Themes of light flood the advent season. You might still carry the images from the Christmas Eve candlelight service.
Light continues to capture the imagination of every genre of biblical writing. Sometimes it is the literal burning oil in a temple lamp. Elsewhere light symbolically assists God’s people to see their righteous role for the rest of the world. We will explore four aspects of light that run throughout the biblical text: nature, symbol, calling, and non-hiddenness.
Nature: Light is more than a metaphor
God spoke light into existence, yet it remains a mystery. Physicist David Park wrote a historical essay on the nature and meaning of light, The Fire within the Eye, (1997, Princeton Press). Park traces hisorical understandings about light and explores modern developments related to the human capacity of sight. If you struggle with insomnia – this book might be helpful – kidding! Admittedly, it was far too technical for my untrained mind to fully grasp, but the fascinating origin to his research stems from this Augustine quote, “True light is not a literary metaphor, one does not say that Christ is light in the same way we say Christ is a rock. The second is a figure of speech, but the first is literal.”[1]
Augustine seems to say Jesus is light, full stop. He sounds like the apostle John: God is light, and there is absolutely no darkness in Him (I John 1:5). You also hear echos of the Nicene Creed (we believe Jesus is…), “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God.” The line between light as a physical reality (physics) and a spiritual reality (metaphysics) might be thinner than first glance. [2]
Even if you don’t take a deep dive into the physical properties of light, you can stop and wonder at a world of light. Light allows us to see.
Symbol: Light is not less than a metaphor
We literally see by light. We also…literarily see by light. The Christian imagination is a way of reading or seeing the world as God sees the world – not simply as it presents itself.
C. S. Lewis established a most memorable explanation of light as a way of seeing in his essay, Meditations in a Toolshed. Enjoy his way with words:
“I was standing today in a dark toolshed. The sun was shining outside and through a crack at the top of the door there came a sunbeam. From where I stood that beam of light, with the specks of dust floating in it, was the most striking thing in the place. Everything else was almost pitch-black. I was seeing the beam, not seeing things by it.
Then I moved, so that the beam fell on my eyes. Instantly the whole previous picture vanished. I saw no toolshed, and (above all) no beam. Instead, I saw, framed in the irregular cranny at the top of the door, green leaves moving on the branches of a tree outside and beyond that, ninety-odd million miles away, the sun. Looking along the beam and looking at the beam are very different experiences.”[3]
Later in the essay, Lewis shares that he believes in Christianity like he believes in the sun – not only because he sees it, but by it, he sees everything else. This is clear in his own life as he “sees” his work as literary scholar or personally as he “sees” the death of his wife through Christian categories. (Discover more about Lewis with Mike Woodruff this January.)
Calling: Walk in the light
The third aspect connects light and Christian calling. The effect of light is not just to have us see (literally and symbolically), but to allow us to walk. John Stott suggests we walk in the light (I John 1:7) with a concern toward right conduct, or righteousness, not just clear vision.[4] In this passage, two metaphors collide.
Walking is a transcultural human experience. It has its own pace, 3mph. Individuals have their own stride and gait. The Bible uses the metaphor of walking (a path or direction) almost 700 times. One’s walk is synonymous with the way one lives. The routine involves right foot, left foot – right foot, left foot. Mundane, yet efficient. The calling to walk in the light also comes with a unique gait.
John is not talking about walking in a generic ‘light’ – he envisions the walk of Jesus Christ, who claims to be the light of the world. In other words, Jesus identifies himself with the language of Genesis 1 – interrupting the soup of nothingness and bottomless emptiness. It is a remarkable claim at first encounter; but unfortunately, quickly becomes remarkably familiar.
Jesus is the light of the world – mind blown! Shortly later, Jesus is the light of the world - no reaction.
The same can be said of a subsequent claim that you are the light of the world (Matthew 5:14). Without you, the world returns to inky blackness. A lamp is needed. Think of the rooms you walk into each day: workplace or school, home or shopping center. Your calling is to walk like Christ – to be light entering the doorway. Don’t allow familiarity with a phrase to blunt your calling.
Non-hiddenness: Light helps Fight Sin
Familiarity is not the only enemy of righteous walking. Sin is an enemy. After eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve’s first move was to hide. They handed you and me that instinct. Sin counters the calling we just discussed. Walking in the light requires ongoing confession to God and one another.
David Taylor demonstrates how we are to live open and unafraid.[5] He suggests, “We hide from others and we hide from ourselves. Ultimately, we hide from God. In our hiding, we choose darkness over light; we embrace death instead of life; we elect to be lonely rather than to be relationally at home with others.”
Sin wants us to remain unknown. It shuns the light.[6]
In confession, however, the light of the gospel breaks into the darkness and seclusion of the heart. The sin must be brought into the light. The unexpressed must be openly spoken and acknowledged. You might call this the way of non-hiddenness.
Eighteenth century revivalist, John Wesley, opened small group meetings with a series of qustions. To avoid hiddenness, they asked, “Have you nothing you desire to keep secret?”[7] It is a piercing question that prevents darkness growing in secret.
In other words, light fights sin.
In conclusion, light is not simply the first of God’s creation, but finds a primary place in the closure of God’s plan. We learn Jesus’ light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:4-5). Darkness now waits in defeat. The Bible closes with a vision of the life beyond this life, when we will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun. He himself will be our light.[8]
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[1] I first heard this observation in Mars Hill Audio Journal, Ken Meyers, Vol 29.
[2] David Park, The Fire Within the Eye, Princeton University Press book (1997).
[3] C S Lewis, “Meditations in a Toolshed” (1942), in First and Second Things Essays.
[4] John Stott, The Letters of John, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries. Eerdmans (2007).
[5] David Taylor, Open and Unafraid, Thomas Nelson (2020). He is particularly interested in showing how the Psalms help us to tell our secrets faithfully, which leads us to be open to others.
[6] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, HarperOne (1978).
[7] Rupert Davies (Ed.) The Works of John Wesley, Vol 9. Abingdon Press, 1989. P. 78. The Band Societies
[8] Revelation 21:23
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, December 2023 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
(est 4-5 min)
Glenn Wishnew
Associate Director
(est 4-5 min)
Lessons on Prayer with C.S. Lewis
1. Pray often, especially when you don’t feel like it.
In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis’ imaginative correspondence between a senior demon and his protege, the devils are ‘working’ on a man who is in a spiritually dry season. Wormwood, the understudy, surmises that the man’s decreasing desire for prayer is the death blow to his Christianity.
The more experienced demon, Screwtape, rebukes Wormwood for his premature excitement. According to Screwtape, the man is experiencing “merely a natural phenomenon,” that will eventually pass away. Even worse from Screwtape’s perspective, God has withdrawn His felt presence ultimately for the man’s spiritual benefit.
“He leaves the creature to stand up on His own legs – to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish. It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be. Hence, the prayers offered in a state of dryness are those which please Him best…He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles.”[i]
In short, if this man learns to ‘walk’ by praying through a season of spiritual dryness, his Christian character will be dangerously resilient.
Indeed, the devil’s cause is “never more in danger, then when a human, no longer desiring, but intending, to do our Enemy’s will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken and still obeys.”[ii]
On the cross, Jesus looked round at a universe from which every trace of God seemed to have vanished. And He obeyed still. Therefore, when we pray without feeling His presence, we are following the model of Jesus whose obedience in that moment “put the [devils] to open shame by triumphing over them.” (Colossians 2:15).
2. Be honest with God, and with yourself.
When praying, there is a perennial temptation to present a false self to God – whether in public for the approval of others or in private for our own self-esteem. Jesus warned His disciples about this: “Do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others.” (Matthew 6:5)
Lewis instead urges transparency in prayer. He encourages his friend Malcolm to offer even mundane requests to God. “Those who have not learned to ask him for childish things will have less readiness to ask Him for great ones.”[iii] In Lewis’ estimation, we ought “to lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us.”[iv]
What do you need right now? And how can God, in hearing your request, “do more than anything you ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20)?
Beyond requests, Lewis encourages us to confess our sins with honesty. The modern world, Lewis admits, perceives confession as gloomy even morbid. However, far from gloomy, confession brings joyful liberation. Vocalizing our sins to God dislodges the guilt festering in our souls and flushes it out of the system.
“A serious attempt to repent and really to know one’s own sins is in the long run a lightening and relieving process. Of course, there is bound to be a first dismay and often terror and later great pain, yet that is much less in the long run than the anguish of unrepented and unexamined sins, lurking in the background of our minds.”[v] Even worse, “those who do not think about their own sins make up for it by thinking incessantly about the sins of others.”[vi]
Lewis presents alternatives for us. Either we will confess our sins and release the guilt from our souls, or we will dwell on others’ sins and suffer the great anguish of a soul weighed down by sin.
3. Praying through grief and pain may only get silent responses. But the silence is laced with compassion.
One of Lewis’ underappreciated books is A Grief Observed, a series of reflective chapters about how he mourned the loss of his wife Joy Davidson. In one sequence, Lewis asks God when he will see Joy again, what that will be like, and if that is even possible when his soul seems to want her more than God Himself.
“When I lay these questions before God, I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace child; you don’t understand.’”[vii]
Lewis scholars have observed a connection between that passage to a previous one in The Magician’s Nephew, where Digory is pleading with the Lion Aslan – the Christ figure – to cure his mother.
“But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then [Digory] had been looking at [Aslan’s] great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.
“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.”[viii]
4. There’s no limit on the number of people who deserve your prayers.
C.S. Lewis managed to keep up correspondences with men and women all over the English-speaking world (click here for an in-depth statistical analysis of his lifetime letter count). Letters to an American Lady is a published book containing over 100 letters he wrote to an aspiring American writer, Mary, who sought his advice on Christianity and literature.
In her previous letter, she mentioned receiving money for rent – an answered prayer. In his follow up letter, Lewis wrote “Clearly He who feeds the sparrows has you in His care. Never suppose that the amount “on my plate” shuts up my sympathy for the great troubles you are undergoing. I pray for you every day.”[ix](emphasis mine)
During this time, Lewis’ wife is dying from cancer, he struggles to walk without a surgical belt because of osteoporosis in his leg, and his financial situation is so perilous that he can’t afford to replace his broken-down furniture. Safe to say, his life is busy and his prayers could consist of his requests alone.
Yet he prayed for this woman daily and her living situation. Walter Hopper’s 3 volume collection of Lewis’ letters suggest that he was praying for tens of people each day whom he had never met before. Lewis once said, “One of the many reasons for wishing to be a better Christian is that, if one were, one’s prayers for others might be more effectual.”[x]
5. Prayer is God at work in all directions
Lewis admonishes us to pray often, pray honestly, pray through pain, and pray for others.
Behind his appeals lies the great truth that prayer is God-in-action. God The Father is the One we pray to, God the Son is the One who prays for us, and God the Spirit is the One inside us “interceding with sighs too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)
Thus, “the whole threefold life of the three-personal Being is going on in that ordinary little bedroom where an ordinary man is saying his prayers. The man is being caught up into the higher kinds of life – what I called Zoe or spiritual life: he is pulled into God, by God, while still remaining himself.”[xi]
Prayer is, for Lewis and for us, getting swept up in the Spirit’s movement inside us, dwelling with Christ beside us, and calling upon the Father above us.
© Glenn Wishnew | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, October 2023 Edition
[i] Lewis, C.S.. The Screwtape Letters (Enhanced Special Illustrated Edition). N.p.: HarperCollins, 2011. Pg. 14.
[ii] Ibid.
[iii] Lewis, C.S.. How to Pray: Reflections and Essays. United States: HarperCollins, 2018. Pg. 40.
[iv] Ibid., 62.
[v] Ibid., 63.
[vi] Ibid., 63.
[vii] Ibid., 136.
[viii]Lewis, C.S.. The Magician's Nephew. United Kingdom: HarperCollins, 2009. Pg. 76
[ix] Lewis, C.S.. Letters to an American Lady. United States: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014. Pg. 64.
[x] Ibid., 51.
[xi] Lewis, C.S.. Mere Christianity. United States: HarperCollins, 2009., pg. 163
Glenn Wishnew
Associate Director
(est 5 min)
Riding the Waves: Christian Parenting within the Cultural Currents
The Currents
Generation Z, those aged 13-28, are at the forefront of a plate-tectonic culture shift. Their views on gender, government, patriotism and religion are widely divergent from generations past:
More than 50% believe there are more than two genders. i
3 out of 4 believe that the government’s “fundamental design and structure” should be torn down and rebuilt.ii
4 out of 10 believe that the founders of the United States are better described as villains than as heroes.iii
Only 60% believe in God – a dramatic decline from any previous generation ever recorded.iv
Of the share who believe in God, less than 40% believe without any doubt. (See Figure 4 below
In the last twenty years, teenagers have become less religious in both belief and practice.
There are many contributing factors to this decline. For one, there has been a great de-churching among their parents during this same timeline (see the yellow line above). For another, teens today are less likely to participate in any group activities, religious or not.vi But the main difference I see today, however, is the volume of counter-Christian messaging that young people have access to.
School, home, church and local community used to exist in a symbiotic relationship. These 4 institutions established a comfortable habitat for Christian formation. Pastor Paul Carter puts it like this: “Parents, church, school and club were all working together and pulling in the same direction.”vii
Those 4 are no longer not guided by a similar moral vision. Teachers, coaches, pastors, parents and peers are offering different answers to a teenager’s fundamental questions. Add social media, Netflix, and peer relationships into this mix – and what emerges is an exhausting environment for a teenager to navigate. The potential outlets for negative messaging toward Christianity are everywhere.
Thus, many parents who try to disciple their kids are swimming against powerful cultural tides. The challenge feels overwhelming. How do you nurture Christian faith when the currents are stronger than before?
How to Navigate the Waves
Parents remain the most powerful influence in a child’s faith.
According to Christian Smith, the Notre Dame sociologist and expert on youth faith formation, “The empirical evidence is clear. In almost every case, no other institution or program comes close to shaping youth religiously as their parents do – not religious congregations, youth groups, faith-based schools, missions and service trips, summer camps, Sunday school, youth ministers, or anything else.”viii
Smith’s insight confirms what psychologists have said for many years: while teenagers might bristle at what you say, they’re still imitating what you do.
2. Live out your faith visibly and verbally.
Based on his research, Smith’s advice for Christian parents is simple: “believe and practice your own religion genuinely and faithfully. Children are not fooled by performances. They see reality.” We can extend Smith’s basic. insight into all of discipleship.
Much of the Christian life – the going to Church, the small-group studying, the praying, the volunteering, the hospitality – is caught, not taught. Paul tells the Corinthians to imitate him as he imitates Christ (1 Cor. 11:1). A question for reflection: if your kids imitated your discipleship perfectly, what would their faith look like?
The significance of modeling does not thereby undermine the significance of mentioning Jesus often in your home. Smith’s study concludes that parents who talk about their faith regularly through the week and explain its contours are more successful in transmitting that faith to their kids.
3. Place teenagers in ‘Christian soil’.
According to Cameron Cole, founder of Rooted Ministry, there is a “correlation between how many adults in Church know a teenager’s name outside of their parents” and the likelihood that a teenager will stick with Church as an adult.ix This is confirmed by my own experience as a teacher. My students are desperate to be seen and known by adults other than just their parents. If they view Church as the place where that need is met – (as it should be!) – then the love of Jesus will be more plausible to them because it was on display each Sunday.
Are we placing our kids in situations where that can take place? And are we, the Church, seeking to be adults whom God uses to draw a teenager to Himself?
4. Trust in the gospel’s goodness, truth, and beauty.
With the data on Gen Z’s religiosity, it is tempting to doubt the gospel’s power. Can we still believe that Jesus is the good, true, and beautiful answer to the next generation’s problems?
Yes we can. We must remember the Christian apologist Rebecca McLaughlin’s statement that “Christianity is the most racially, culturally, socioeconomically diverse movement in history. That is true globally, over the last two thousand years, and it's true in America today.”x The gospel’s cultural versatility has outflanked polytheistic Rome, atheistic China, and theocratic Iran. We shouldn’t start doubting it now.
Tim Keller’s booklet How to Reach the West Again lists 7 benefits Christianity offers over Secularism, the dominant alternative worldview today.
Christianity gives:
A meaning in life that suffering can’t take away but can even deepen.
A satisfaction that isn’t based on circumstances.
A freedom that doesn’t reduce community and relationships to thin transactions.
An identity that isn’t fragile or based on our performance or the exclusion of others.
A basis for seeking justice that does not turn us into oppressors ourselves.
A poise and peace not only in face of the future, but toward death itself.
An explanation for the senses of transcendent beauty and love we often experience.
Jesus of Nazareth has called people of all different backgrounds and social views into His Kingdom since Pentecost, and He will not cease doing so until the day He returns.
He’s going to build His Church (even through parents) and the gates of hell stand no chance.
ENDNOTES
i Jean Twenge, Generations:The Real Differences Between Gen Z, Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents—and What They Mean for America's Future (2023). pg., 350.
ii Ibid., 421:
iii Ibid., 421.
iv Ibid., 503.
v Thanks to Brad Wilcox and his team at the Institute for Family Studies for this chart. You can see more solid data on this here.
vi Twenge, Generations, 400-415.
vii TGC Article
viii See Smith’s excellent article “Keeping the Faith” published in First Things for a lot of the data backing the next two paragraphs.
ix I learned this insight from his excellent podcast episode with the As it is in Heaven crew.
x She says this often, as she should. But here’s one context for it.
© Glenn Wishnew | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, October 2023 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
(est 6 min)
Good Work (part 2)
Imagine a group of construction workers are nearing the end of a major home building project. It’s big. It’s elaborate - showing off the family’s power and prestige.
Near the end of the work day, a structure of wood and stone is not quite fitting together properly. It’s one of those issues that is barely noticeable but opens a crack for future issues. One worker offers a solution, ‘Meh, it’s good enough. Let’s just call it good. No one will ever see.” Another chimes in with agreement. You can fill in the rest of the conversation.
What is going on? Be careful how you answer - you are about to reveal your doctrine of work: What’s the standard for work? What’s the motivation for work? What story do we tell ourselves about the work we do (and don’t do)?
In the previous article (part 1), I focused on understanding work inside of the story of the world. We make sense of our lives (and work lives) by working from and for something. In short, your work will not make sense unless you put it into the right story. The biblical story pronounces work as good, part of what we were created to do. Part 2 outlines good work in light of God’s work.
What if I told you the worker who said ‘It’s good enough - let’s just call it good,’ was Jesus. How does that strike you? Is it consistent or inconsistent with your view of Jesus?
Jesus, along with his father Joseph, is described as a “tektōn” (Greek for builder, craftsman, or carpenter). Records show workers in Nazareth were contracted by Herod to build his summer palace in Sepphoris. It was equipped with elaborate road work, a large amphitheater, and remarkable mosaics that you can still visit today. Some scholars speculate that Joseph would have been among Herod’s hired hands, thus, boy Jesus would have joined in the construction site conversations.
The Bible is good and wise to tell us of Jesus ‘the carpenter’ - validating human labor in a way unimaginable in many religions. Still, I think it is amazing how little we know of his actual labors. We don’t have enough information to ever get caught trying to imitate a specific swing of the hammer or style of masonry work.
Jesus did good work. Advocating for “good work” does not mean mediocre work. “Meh” or “good enough” don’t seem to fit with God as a worker. The universe is filled with created goods par excellence. In fact, we should associate good work with excellent work. Here are four reasons.
1. Excellence begins with God. Andreas Kostenberger argues, “Excellence is bound up with the nature and character of God. God is the grounds of all true excellence. He is the one who fills any definition of excellence with meaning, and he is the reason why we cannot be content with lackluster mediocrity, halfhearted effort… Excellence starts and ends with God and is first and foremost a hallmark and attribute of God. Without God as our starting point and continual frame of reference, our discussion of excellence would be hopelessly inadequate.”
Look around at the work God did in creation, you see his attributes on display. Follow his lead in excellence.
2. Excellence is deeper than an achievement. It is true that there are excellent paintings and commercials; excellent TedTalks and cappuccinos. Endless achievements exhibit excellence, however, the Bible’s emphasis on excellence leans toward who we become through the process of pursuing excellence. The key term for excellence in the Greek, ἀρετὴ (arete), is only used in three verses in the New Testament (Phil 4:8; 2 Pet 1:3, 5).
Paul, in Philippians 4, calls his readers to consider and embody a list of virtues that lead to wisdom - ‘excellence’ is the summary at the end of the list. Similarly, Peter (2 Pet. 1), makes ‘excellence’ the foundation of a life of godliness. He locates the concept in Christ’s moral excellence. This means we are talking about something deeper than mere achievements.
3. Excellence is costly. There are countless examples of choosing ‘nicer’ things/products at a higher cost. While true, I am not suggesting excellence is more financially expensive. Instead, I am suggesting it is not easy. It costs you.
Excellence carries these characteristics: discipline, denial, delayed gratification, etc. No one applauds someone for traveling 26.2 miles in a car. You put a marathon sticker when you run 26.2. It’s the grit and determination of the achievement.
Even better. Have you ever read the memorable exchange between a great artist and one of his admirers?: One night after Paderweski had given one of the greatest concerts of his brilliant career, he was greeted by an overeager fan who said, ‘Oh, I’d give my life to be able to play like you do.’ Paderewski replied, ‘I did.’”1 The cost results in the honor of ‘good work’.
4. Excellence tells a story. This is what branding and online reviews are all about. You select an architect or photographer or restaurant based on the reputation - the story people tell about their work. The hope is clearly to experience a version of the excellence reported by others.
But, excellence doesn’t guarantee ‘good work’. Early in the biblical story is a troubling account of humans building a tower up to heaven. The construction project tells a story - a story that breaks a number of key commands from God.
Instead of filling the earth (Gen 1:28 command), people stop to build a tower and avoid being scattered across the earth. Through their work, the Babel architects try to make a name for themselves (not receive God’s name for them). It’s the opposite of God’s promise to Abraham, I (not you) will make your name great. The project also counters the call to fill the earth. It might even be a play on words from Genesis 3, “come, let us make.” (not accept what God made). 2
To be fair, it appears to be an “excellent” tower. The Babel builders made impressive bricks and tar, stronger than past stone structures (see Gen 11:3). Still, the tower told the wrong story.
Work, especially grand projects, regularly tell false stories of the world: You need to make your own name. You need to avoid the limits and logic of God’s creation. Your comfort and convenience are ultimate. You must live your best life now…
On the contrary, shoddy work tells others we don’t care. Mediocre effort often represents our care for our comfort over the good of others. We are telling a story of what God is like when we represent him in our work. He entrusts image bearers with his reputation. The church, in particular, is a people called to do good and holy work. But, what kind of work do we do?
This summer, I stood on the amphitheater Herod built by stone-masons (tektōnes) like Joseph and Jesus. It’s about 2000 yrs old. Herod tried to make a name for himself through his achievements. While excellent, it wasn’t good. He rejected the moral excellence Paul and Peter called the church to embody.
Unlike Herod, Jesus came not to build buildings for himself (be served), but to build for others (serve). His good work made life possible for others, even at great cost to himself. That is the kind of story we want all of our work to tell.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, September 2023 Edition
Missy Wallace
Former Executive Director of the Global Faith & Work Initiative. Founder of Faith & Work Nashville, TN.
From Chaos to Goodness — Step by Step, Industry by Industry
When I teach about the integration of faith and work, I get asked one question repeatedly: “Should I leave my job to do something more directly aligned with my faith?” This question comes not only from people in industries with difficult cultures like corporate litigation, acting, or investment banking, but also from those in helping professions like nursing and teaching. The job confusion usually stems from a deepening relationship with God and an associated desire to serve him fully, combined with the lack of an appropriate theological model to understand God’s purpose for work. I know this problem firsthand.
After ten years in banking and management consulting, and another ten in secondary education, I too had fallen prey to a faulty hierarchy of work. In my mind, there was an A team of workers for God which included pastors and missionaries, a B team which included all the helping professions like doctors and teachers, a C team which was everyone else — except for the D team which included management consultants, corporate attorneys, and private equity and hedge fund investors. My husband and I were both squarely on the D team. And, as my faith grew, I could not find a model to help me process this. In fact, I did not even realize I was looking for one.
As a result, in a quick decision in 2003, I left corporate life to help one of my clients start a school. I am hugely thankful for that formative decade of work. But I must confess that my main impetus for the change was that I thought I would be moving from the D team to the B team, and thus doing something God would consider more valuable.
God’s Purpose for Work (Mine Included)
Eventually I developed a better, more mature theology of work through a God-authored combination of personal suffering and extensive reading. My own ‘aha’ moment came as I read Every Good Endeavor from Katherine Leary Alsdorf and Tim Keller.
I was moved to tears to finally understand that I was actually created to work as part of God’s unfolding story for this world. I also realized that the fall and its impact on people, places, and things was part of why work felt so hard. Through further study and leading ‘faith and work’ groups, I began to really understand the depth of how industries matter to God. And I was grieved that I had worked for over twenty years without understanding that, regardless of vocation, we are actually ALL ON THE A TEAM.
Fast forward and I now work earnestly to help others understand biblically how faith and work are meant to integrate. What is especially helpful to answering the question of “should I leave my job” is coming to understand God’s sovereignty over all work — and that, in turn, the industries in the world today matter to God.
Abraham Kuyper, Prime Minister of the Netherlands in the early 1900s and a reformed pastor and theologian, summarized this point this way, “There is not a square inch in the whole of creation over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’” In order to embrace this idea — that God has creational intent for every (legitimate) industry — it is helpful to be reminded of the general pattern of work modeled for us in Genesis.
From Chaos Toward Flourishing
God sent his image bearers out into the world to be fruitful and multiply and exercise dominion. This ‘cultural mandate’ can be paraphrased as ‘go out and further flourishing as image-bearing agents of God.’ And how did God himself create flourishing? Six days in a row, he created structure from chaos and called it good, good, good, good, good, and very good.
There is nary a job in the world that does not follow this model of taking chaos and bringing structure, with the aim of calling it good. Valuing a company in Excel — structure out of chaos to create a just price. Sweeping the floors at a restaurant — structure out of chaos to create a hygienic eating environment. Professional NFL games — structure out of chaos to bring a community together to cheer toward a common goal while appreciating human athleticism.
Each industry, then, is meant to reflect God’s character, i.e., his goodness and grace. We might label this its creational goodness. But each industry is also broken — it has departed from God’s intent. This allows us to view an industry through the lens of its creational goodness, while also acknowledging its brokenness. Which means we can understand the role God intends for any industry, while pushing against an industry’s brokenness as we seek to move it towards its best version of itself.
...we can understand the role God intends for any industry, while pushing against an industry’s brokenness as we seek to move it towards its best version of itself.
Good — Yet Broken — Industries
It is helpful to imagine what if a particular industry did not exist. For instance, if we did not have banking, people would still be trading goods and services without currencies — a big step backward toward chaos. Thus banking brings structure out of chaos for the movement of goods and services and a more productive allocation of resources across a community. Banking, therefore, helps facilitate God’s desire for order and fruitfulness.
Yet, along with all industries, banking is broken. I once heard a pastor ask, “If Jesus came back tomorrow, what would he say about your industry?” So, what would Jesus say about corporate banking? He might well note that the pay inequities between the highest and lowest ranking employees are absurd. He might note that often the companies which most need capital are least able to access it. And he might note that corporate banking tends to value financial transactions more than the creation of goods and services that are foundational to human flourishing.
How about investing? Investing is the supply of capital to enable and enlarge the creational good of business. Investing allows businesses to scale more quickly, thereby creating more of the goods and services that foster human flourishing, while also giving employees the opportunity to use their God-given gifts and talents. This also allows them to provide for themselves and their families, and hopefully to have a surplus to share. Investing, therefore, reflects God’s character as one who gives work to his image bearers and brings about growth and provision.
However, investing too is broken. Instead of a strategic allocation of capital to support good business, investing has become narrowly focused on maximizing returns from business. This idolization of returns means investors often fail to consider whether or not a business serves society and human flourishing. Frequently, in fact, investors seek returns from businesses whose effects are decidedly more harmful than helpful — precisely opposite to God’s intent. As well, investors can prioritize short term gain over long term sustainability.
Instead of a strategic allocation of capital to support good business, investing has become narrowly focused on maximizing returns from business.
Other companies/industries illustrate the same overarching pattern. Coca-Cola, for example, brings pleasure (joy) to many and can enhance a connecting experience, yet sugared soda is increasingly recognized as a primary cause of obesity and diabetes, especially among the young. The film industry is capable of exquisite and inspiring storytelling, but too often glorifies violence and fails to tell the truth about the harmful consequences of immoral decisions.
Reframing Our Perspective
So as we each interact with, work in, and buy from the variety of industries in our lives, how can we go about appreciating their goodness while seeking their improvement? First, start with what goodness an industry provides to the world. What chaos would ensue without this industry? Next, view the industry through the reality of the fall. What stubborn areas of brokenness exist? Where are incentives misaligned? Where does the industry hurt or exploit people, places, or natural resources? What hurtful barriers or systems has it spawned? Finally, imagine if Jesus came tomorrow what might he see as the potential of this industry? What could this industry be in its best version of itself? How did Christ in his work on the cross begin to redeem his creation so that as someone in this field I can push against that brokenness and join him as an agent of renewal?
Reframing work through the lens of its creational goodness allows us to connect our hearts more deeply with our role with Christ in this already/not yet interval between his ascension and return. Rarely is an industry secular only — almost all of them reflect something of God’s goodness. Thus, the challenge is finding the redemptive edge. What is in the realm of the possible in redeeming the goodness and pushing against the darkness in leadership, processes, and strategies? (That said, there are some business categories that one would be hard pressed to view as redemptive — prostitution, pornography, and illegal drugs come quickly to mind.)
So as I answer the ‘should I quit my job’ question over and over, I see it as a real opportunity to bring others into the story of God’s great plan for renewing this world. Most industries are capable of more good than we imagine, yet are more broken than we care to admit. As Christians, we have the benefit of a framework that allows us to see their potential for goodness, to acknowledge their brokenness, and to work alongside Christ, step by step, toward his new heaven and earth.
Thanks to Eventide Center for Faith and Investing. This article was first published at https://www.faithandinvesting.com
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Ben Dockery
Executive Director
Back in Time: Israel Trip Pilgrimage 2023
I want to tell you three things I learned from the pilgrimage we took to Israel this summer. But first, I want to start with what might feel like an unrelated thought... Hang with me.
In his book, Saint Thomas Aquinas, G K. Chesterton compares the revered medieval theologian of the Catholic church with the famed St. Francis of Assisi. To start, their appearances clashed. Francis was “as thin as a thread and vibrant as a bowstring.” St Thomas was “a huge heavy bull of a man, fat and slow and quiet.” Francis is also known for austere poverty and renouncing himself of worldly goods while St Thomas is known for writing and a life of the intellect and libraries. (Read an excerpt from the longer comparison of the two friars). Still, Chesterton suggests they made a similar contribution - it can be difficult to recognize because while they lived at the same time, they spoke to different errors in the church. What Francis was doing with nature is what St. Thomas was doing with philosophy – both were doing the same thing for Christianity, which was saving it from spirituality.
In summary, Chesterton uses this lovely phrase, “it is best to say the truth in its simplest form; that they both reaffirmed the Incarnation, by bringing God back to earth.”
This is when you ask, what in the world does this have to do with what I learned in Israel? I’m glad you asked. Three thoughts from our travels all relate to this idea of “bringing God back to earth.”
First, trips are not pilgrimages. This was a distinction I had not considered but was repeated by Mike Woodruff, the Lakelight board chair and leader of our pilgrimage. He first made this distinction in our preparation meetings, but it did not sink in until we were on the ground. It would be possible to go to the same geographical locations and download the same information, but not aim toward a deeper faith commitment. In other words, even in Israel, you could leave God in heaven.
Bringing God back to earth engages our imaginations and hearts. It raises new questions. At one point, our group asked, what it would be like to go back in time - what would it be like to have Jesus as your tour guide? (More on that at the end.) Lakelight elevates imagination as a key to learning (one of three core emphases) and we believe faith is bolstered through the immersive learning experiences. In Israel, we hoped to get a little dust on our feet by following the terrain rabbi Jesus walked and listening afresh to the wisdom he taught. Additionally, the time was structured in a way that people could experience the catalytic power of the gospel through sites, teaching, reflection, and cohort discussions.
If not all trips are pilgrimages, it could equally be argued that not all pilgrimages are trips. You don’t have to go on an Israel trip to be on pilgrimage. You can be intentional about any travel or experience in your life by starting with the question: how can we spend this time seeing God’s handiwork and becoming more like Jesus?
Second, Christianity is wildly concrete. Although I pray for God’s will to be done on earth all the time, my disposition is to make Jesus and his teachings highly spiritual (non-earthly). Somewhere in my mind, all the metaphorical language about vines and branches, water and wine, builders and laborers, camels and sheep exist in a theoretical world. Obviously, some of this is due to 21st century American life, but I was reminded on our pilgrimage how unsanitized - how earthy Jesus’ life would have been.
It is difficult to walk behind Jesus, to follow in his footsteps. I mean that literally. We climbed up and down mountainsides that didn’t comply with ADA standards. I learned to watch our guide instinctually locate every tree that offered shade to find relief from the heat. I learned to watch my step as roadways lay littered with loose rocks. As we trekked the ancient stones of Jerusalem, the same steps occupied by Roman soldiers and Jesus’ followers, the concrete reality of Isaiah and Peter’s “stone” object lessons became real stones our iPhones could capture in a photo.
I came home more intent on seeing God in the sidewalks and steps at my house. I want eyes to see the cars and traffic lights, the desks and screens, the shows and music, food and drink in my life as God’s handiwork. I want to be saved from my own over-spiritualizing. It sounds silly saying it, but it doesn’t have to be in the clouds (or world of ideas) to be Christian.
A third pilgrimage reminder was that Christ will return. As St. Thomas and Francis helped Christianity avoid spirituality by bringing God back to earth, Israel reminded me that Jesus said he is coming back to earth. This was not just foreign to the first hearers, but still seems mistaken to modern minds.
Chesterton describes the impact of a saints life: “The Saint is a medicine because he is an antidote. Indeed that is why the saint is often a martyr; he is mistaken for a poison because he is an antidote. He will generally be found restoring the world to sanity by exaggerating whatever the world neglects, which is by no means always the same element in every age…. Therefore it is the paradox of history that each generation is converted by the saint who contradicts it most.”
Might read that twice - worth more reflection in our day.
We gathered the final day for reflection near a rock that some think is the last point Jesus placed his feet on earth. There, the dusty disciples asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”
Jesus didn’t answer that question. Instead, he continued his promise that it is better He leaves and sends the Spirit. God’s Spirit will be a better tour guide for the task of work and witness they had before them. They needed to disperse. And, the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead and launch the first disciples is at work in us.
We don’t need to go back in time, we need to live by faith as we await the return of God back to earth, of all things made new. That life is an antidote the world still needs.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, July 2023 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
Good Work (Part 1)
My brothers and I grew up playing sports constantly. We played at home, at school, on teams, and even at church (youth group games!). Coaches would often say, “Good Work!” – accompanied by an affirming slap on the back to demonstrate behavior they wanted us to repeat. It was great. You knew you did something to contribute to the larger goal.
I loved hearing - and repeating to teammates - “Good Work.” The words affirmed actions like basic blocking and tackling, hustling in practice, but also scoring the game-winning goal. It simplified things in my young mind. We all knew what it meant. As an adult, it can feel like a different story. It’s not always as clear what constitutes good work. How do you determine if you are on track? Is it adding to the bottom-line, the triple-bottom line, the eternal-bottom line? Do you decide by an internal compass? Is it based on your performance review or co-workers' affirmation?
One of my favorite readings in the Lakelight Fellows program addresses this question. Alasdair MacIntryre’s persuasive book, After Virtue, gives this example: Imagine you’re standing at a bus stop and a young man you do not know approaches you and says, ‘Histrionicus - Histrionicus - Histrionicus.’ What does this mean? How do you make sense of it? How should you respond?
MacIntyre argues that you have to put it into a story. It needs context.
What are possible ways to make sense of this experience? MacIntyre suggests it could be a sad story, and the young man is mentally ill. It could be a comedy, a case of mistaken identity - yesterday, someone of your age, height, and general appearance approached this young man and asked him the Latin name for the common wild duck. Today, he’s mistaken you for that person and provided the answer. Or, maybe the guy is a foreign spy and you are mistaken for a contact and the code word is ‘histrionicus’. While outlandish, it’s possible.
All three make sense of the event, but all three will lead to very different reactions. Unless you understand what happened in the light of the right story, you don’t know the meaning or proper response.
Similarly, your work will not make sense unless you put it into the right story (hat-tip to Tim Keller and Katherine Leary Alsdorf for making this clear for thousands of people in Every Good Endeavor).*1
Today, the dominant story of culture says that you should express yourself in your work, or stated more crassly, “you do you.” Just a few decades ago, the motto might have been, “get yours,” but that no longer accounts for society's emphasis on social and environmental well-being. A generation prior, work was one’s duty and the questions related to personal passion and purpose were not on the table; instead, you needed to put food on the table.
So, do we work to express ourselves, get what we can, save the environment, or simply pay the bills? The challenge in each case is that we, humans, are at the center of the story. Ultimately, this starting point does not lead to good work.
The Bible tells you a different story. An eternal God is at the center. The story of a renewed world where this life is the tiniest little beginning of it. Remember, if we get the story wrong, we get the meaning wrong.
I got the story of work wrong for a number of years. Like many raised in the church (or on country music), I thought of work as a necessary evil or even a curse, a four-letter word.*2 Dolly Parton was awarded an Academy Award nomination and four Grammy Award nominations for her song, 9 to 5. She captures what many think about work,
“Working 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by, it's all takin' and no givin'
They just use your mind and you never get the credit
It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it”
The Bible acknowledges this cursed, ‘takin’ and no givin,’ dimension of work. Genesis 3 explains that when you try to grow tomatoes in your garden, you are going to cut your hand on a thorn or thistle. It’s a reminder of judgment. Frankly, the constant ‘drive you crazy’ dimension of work is one reason you should trust the Bible. God’s word in Genesis 3 is proved right over and over by our co-workers, technology, meetings, and the sweat of hard labor.
However, that is not the part of the story many people get wrong. The trouble comes when you start in Genesis 3 and not Genesis 1 and 2. Instead of work starting as a punishment for humans, work is first seen as a purpose of human life. When humans make something of the world, they are fulfilling an existential longing to create and accomplish. To borrow the ancient Hebrew teaching, we are imaging our creator by cultivating the earth (Gen 1:26). When paradise is still in place, humans are called to work and care for the world. God names this ‘good.’ From the beginning, work was good.
God didn’t make the world with everything complete, instead, He made images of Himself to spread out over the world and act like Him by working to fill the earth with created things. That’s kind of exciting, right?! Human work, as we learn later in the story, is intended to function according to the internal logic of creation - for the good of others and the fame of the first creator, not the workers (Lev. 19:9-18; Mt 5:14-16). The logic and limits of work are a second layer of understanding good work - more on that in a forthcoming article (part 2).
For now, know this: The Bible places work as part of human purpose and calling. The notion of “calling” (or vocation) requires one outside of us to speak to us, to call us. This eliminates modern notions of self-expression as the starting point for work. The incarnation, in addition to the creation account, affirms the goodness of the material world we carry out our vocations. This eliminates notions of avoiding work to be closer to God.
Research suggests you will spend 90,000 hours working. And, that only includes paid work of an average employee (most readers will far exceed that number). If Annie Dillard is right, that "how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives," then we want to make our lives count. We want to do good work, God’s work.
Let me conclude by telling you, “Good Work!” Good work responding to your emails today - you are cultivating the earth by words, coordination, decision, and advice. Good work on caring for the needs of those around you (whether small and needing to be fed, adolescent and needing to be heard, or aging and needing to be comforted). Good work cleaning and maintaining your home or apartment. Good work planning and making the next meal. Good work creating a spreadsheet or pitch deck to present to a client. Good work completing your school work or instructing students to complete their work. You are representing God in the world. What might seem like ordinary actions are latent with divine design and purpose.
Not only does your work make sense for your life, but it is part of a larger story, God’s story of blessing those around you and honoring your Father in heaven.
If this topic interest you, find out information on our upcoming event, Good Work Summit | October 14, 2023.
P.S. It’s free to tell someone good work, you might try it with a family member or co-worker today.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, June 2023 Edition
Footnotes:
*1 In Every Good Endeavor, Tim Keller and Katherine Leary Alsdorf highlight MacIntyre’s “Histrionicus-Histrionicus-Histrionicus” as an example to locate ‘work’ in a larger story.
*2 See chapter 2 in Tom Nelson, Work Matters, for a longer discussion on work as a four-letter word.
Harold B. Smith
Lakelight Board Member
Former President & CEO Christianity Today
More Beautiful Than Words (Est. 5 min)
True confession.
In my younger work life, any thoughts of marketplace beauty were limited to the arrangement of bric-a-brac on my desk and, perhaps, the overall aesthetic of the building I happened to be working in. Over time, of course, that austere view slowly changed, as my publishing career developed and I understood more and more the power of words and design to communicate clearly, compellingly. And yes, even beautifully.
In this regard, I recall the day the editors and designers of Christianity Today spent interacting with Cullen Murphy, then managing editor of The Atlantic. A surprisingly humble man in spite of the journalistic and literary esteem afforded his magazine over its long history, Cullen took great care to underscore the work involved in crafting “beautiful” content. A total of 14 re-writes is what, on average, each Atlantic article would undergo, he told us—a number that had all of us editors gasping for air! (And here we thought a third rewrite might be pushing an author—and us—too far.) But then it was such artistic wordsmithing that set his publication apart from so many others. And even today, The Atlantic’s content wins accolades; with a 2022 Pulitzer Prize for Feature Writing going to staff writer Jennifer Senior for her powerful September 2021 cover story, “What Bobby McIlvaine Left Behind.”
Of course, my waxing about editorial and design beauty speaks of an aesthetic that is hard to quantify—other than in the recognition that an author, designer, or publisher gets for whatever is defined as excellence at the time. (And it’s a definition that invariably changes over time.) Moreover, balancing off the kudos given these acclaimed works of literary and visual art are a legion of expected naysayers. All to say “one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor” as songwriter Paul Simon so aptly put it.
So perhaps whatever beauty there is in the end product of our work is in the eye of the beholder. But then, that overworked cliche belies what I eventually came to realize when I gravitated from “simply” crunching copy to managing CT’s fleet of quality communicators: That right in front of me were expressions of beauty that in one way or another point back to the source of all true beauty. Namely, God himself. My coworkers—the talented women and men declared “very good” on the 6th day of Creation—were the very ones I was now privileged to lead and direct in their own professional flourishing. Even as they daily encouraged me in mine. Together creating—in spite of our fallenness—an environment where God’s beauty could be expressed in and through the gifts endowed his creation.
God’s love is the source of all beauty, wrote 4th century church father St Augustine. And as such, it is a timeless, ageless beauty. One not limited to a creative exclamation point or a momentary feeling or a single experience or even the eye of the beholder. No, as Augustine himself found out, through faith and virtue, even he could reflect the origin of all true and permanent beauty.
And such is our opportunity in the workplace: To both reflect God’s beauty and, by our example, ignite the spark of that beauty found in all those made in the image of God. In our words of encouragement. In the selfless support we give our coworkers in utilizing their giftedness to its fullest extent. In the unconditional love and respect we show our coworkers in their good and bad days. And in the celebrations with those same coworkers when they experience a professional and personal flourishing over a job well done.
It is in these tangible day-to-day expressions of beauty that we can ultimately leave the life-changing and eternal mark of Christ on those we labor with. As they, in turn, begin to more and more catch a glimpse of the God who has entrusted them with unique talents with which they might express his creation beauty.
I think of my father’s own work life in this regard. Not that I ever heard him use the term “beauty” in describing his work at Ford Motor’s Dearborn Assembly Plant (although I thought the 1955 Thunderbird he brought home one day to show off “his” handiwork was the coolest thing ever!). But there’s perhaps no better term to use when looking back on his impact on his fellow co-laborers.
One particular story powerfully captured this for me and continues to challenge me in my interactions—my work—with others.
A little over 20 years ago, Dad lay dying in a hospice bed in his home outside of Detroit. His final days found a steady stream of individuals from all walks of life stopping by the house and asking if it would be alright to peek in on Dad as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Neighbors, area pastors, and former coworkers wanted to see the man who had marked their lives with God’s love. And yeah, God’s beauty.
One of those coworkers was a man named Norm. He came to the house early one evening, saying he had just flown in from Florida to spend a few minutes by Dad’s bedside. I welcomed him in and waited while Norm quietly looked in on my father. I remember hearing him pray by Dad’s bedside.
I wanted to ask Norm why he had come such a distance for just a few minutes of time, knowing that Dad could not respond to his expression of love. So when he came out of the bedroom, I had him join me in the family room to talk.
Norm, who is an African American, said he had grown up hating any and all white people. So when he came to work at Ford’s, he was immediately put off by the fact that his supervisor—my father—was white. Norm told me he knew right then and there that this working relationship simply wouldn’t work.
Norm talked about his on-again, off-again interactions with my father: Norm’s endless complaining, his unceasing profanity and anger. And yet, he now paused almost in awe over what he would say next, “Your dad never responded in kind.” He then looked at me intently to emphasize his point, “Harold, your dad never responded in kind.”
He then went on to tell me how Dad would invariably seek to help him with his work, offering his own experience and wisdom to help make Norm a better, more efficient automotive engineer. Pouring himself out on this coworker’s behalf whenever he could.
Norm said he finally asked my dad why he was doing all this, especially knowing how hard Norm was to work with. And my father’s response: “Because of Christ. He first loved me so now I can love you.”
To say the least, those were not the words Norm was expecting. But they were words that over time would give Norm a purpose. Would change his approach to work. And to life. Words that would ultimately bring God’s beauty into a man once filled with hatred.
“That is why I had to fly up here and be with your dad one more time,” Norm concluded. “He’s a beautiful man. He loved and respected me while I was at my most unlovable.”
The entire person of Christ, one author has written, is like one diamond; and his life in every dimension leaves one lasting impression. Beauty.
Would our lasting impression on those we work with be no less.
© Harold B. Smith | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, May 2023 Edition
Taylor Worley
Visiting Associate Professor of Art History Wheaton College
The Mountain and the Hill (Est. 5 min)
Looking for Jesus with Biblical Imagination
I. Like clockwork, the third Monday in April brings with it the annual running of the Boston Marathon. I was especially mindful of it this year because a colleague’s husband was attempting it for the first time. He did it, and there was much celebration. Obviously, such a feat was years in the making, but a last-minute COVID positive derailed his efforts last year. I’m sure it was even more gratifying after that nasty disappointment.
Of course, to even qualify for it is an accomplishment that most of us will never have. In that way, even the grueling hills of Boston must testify to what each runner already knows about themselves. They got there because they’ve got it. Tellingly, last year’s race had an astounding 98.4% finish rate!
I imagine that Jesus himself may have felt a similar sense of satisfaction to those accomplished runners as he made his way down the Mount of Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1-9). Probably not so much “I told you so,” but more like “Will you trust me now?” Finally, there’s the proof. They saw it with their own eyes.
Like so many artists of the Christian tradition, we weren’t there with Peter, James, and John, so our imaginations have to fill in some enormous blanks to visualize what happened. And just like so many of the pictures produced by those Christian artists, our efforts at biblical imagination here fall short.
Consider the floating figures of Renaissance beauty in Raphael’s Transfiguration or the intense geometry of the icon tradition in the Russian school. Despite these magnificent efforts, our many questions remain.
We’re not so different from Peter, James, or John. We want to see Jesus today. We want him to appear in our lives. We could use a Transfiguration moment ourselves.
Let’s look within the text once more. What does it show us? More importantly, what happens right before Jesus reveals his divine glory on the mountain?
II. The Transfiguration follows an extremely poignant and tense moment between Jesus and the disciples. In Matthew 16:13ff, we see Jesus pose that fateful question to his disciples: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” It’s followed by the even more awkward: “Who do you say that I am?”
Now, we don’t know how long that question hung in the air or how many disciples started staring at their feet. All we know is that Peter replied: “You are the Christ the Son of the Living God.”
But Peter’s praiseworthy confession is soon met with a stinging rebuke. As Jesus unpacks for them what it means to be God’s Messiah and his inevitable suffering, death, and resurrection, Peter tries to take Jesus aside and disabuse him of such defeatist thinking. He actually tells Jesus: “God forbid that this happen to you!” In other words, that’s not the Messianic action plan they had in mind.
For this, Jesus rebukes him with the equally famous words: “Get behind me Satan!” What a reversal of fortune? In the same episode, Peter goes from earning the first and best apostolic nickname (i.e. Petros meaning “rock”) to being called ‘Satan.’ The intensity and awkwardness of this episode, however, demonstrate just how high the stakes are for everyone involved. Jesus has finally disclosed his true identity and true mission as God’s Messiah, but – based on Peter’s response – this brings more conflict and confusion. It’s in the midst of this pivotal moment that Jesus decides to draw away with his closest three to a nearby mountain.
Now, Jesus intentionally chooses the location of a “high mountain.” because of the theological significance of mountains for God’s people. Mountains are symbolically important, because since the time of ancestors like Abraham and Moses mountains have been a meeting place for God and his people.
The events that unfold on the mountain, therefore, serve to make sure that Peter’s confession is confirmed. In his characteristically strategic writing, Matthew does so by relaying what is seen (Jesus’ divine glory), who is there (Moses – figuring the Law, and Elijah – figuring the Prophets), and what is heard (thundering affirmation from the Father). In all these signs, it is clear that Jesus is indeed the Christ, the Son of the living God. There was no disputing that now. Not even Peter would try to correct Jesus after what he saw.
III. Of course, the Bible has many such moments of divine glory made manifest. Think especially of Exodus 24. But – and this is the unique plight of Christian artists – such glory cannot be recreated by human artistry. Our representations and recreations merely point to a literally un-seeable vision. For this reason, I’ll take the plain, if somewhat awkward realism of Fra Angelico.
If you make it to Florence, Italy and you tire of the unending feast of Renaissance masterworks, try a palate cleanser. Look for the Dominican priory of San Marco and there you’ll find a series of Fra Angelico’s fresco. In the monk’s cell #6, you’ll find his Transfiguration (see image below). Admittedly, like others before and since, Fra Angelico made some curious artistic choices in his piece. The mountain is no more than a raised platform of rock, and the heads of Moses and Elijah float into the scene like 15th century special effects.
But look at it once more. There’s one subtle and all-important detail in the fresco. It is the defining feature of the piece. Jesus is depicted with his arms outstretched as if already on the cross. His glory is cruciform.
This transfigured and glorious one, it is he who has come to die. The mountain shows us that he possesses the power to unveil a beauty and a glory that exceeds anything that we could bear to see, but the hill is where he has chosen to demonstrate the greatest glory of his love by taking our place under the sentence of death. In other words, don’t look for him on the mountain. He wants you to remember him on the hill – the hill where he took our sin and died.
Let’s have our eyes rest there. If we do, perhaps, we’ll take in his words from the mountaintop:
“Rise and have no fear.”
© Taylor Worley | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, April 2023 Edition
Transfiguration
Fra Angelico | San Marco cell #6
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
A New Kind of Time (Est. 5-6 min)
There is a time for everything, according to Ecclesiastes 3, but there is not enough time for everything. Peter Drucker advises leaders to ‘know thy time,’ which begins with a recorded examination of where one’s time goes. This article invites you to think with us for a few minutes about the knotty issue of time management and God’s design for finite creatures.
Time stands as the non-renewable, most-scarce-resource for leaders. Not only is it inelastic, but it is equally distributed. Unlike talent or money or opportunity, everyone gets an identical portion of daily time and it can’t be banked for the future or traded for another commodity. You have all the time there is today; no one has more or less than you, which invites all of us to consider our time more closely.
Dimension 1: Approaches to Time
People approach time differntly. First, you can think in very practical terms for work life. There is ‘on time’ (punctuality) and then there is ‘five-minutes-early-is-ten-minutes-late’ time (OCD punctuality). This comes in hand at work - know thy time and thy boss, right?
Know thy culture too. Cultural assumptions of time often surface when monochronic and polychronic cultures encounter misunderstandings. Edgar Schein, an organizational culture guru, tells the story of a German executive who diligently shows up with a minute-by-minute agenda for a business meeting with a group of Brazilian leaders. As he proceeds to start the meeting ‘on time’ and outlines the schedule, he is essentially laughed out of the room. Cultures, local and national, approach time differently.
Another distinction is less practical and philosophical: chronos time and kairos time. Chronos time is quantitative or sequenced: Meet me at Starbucks at 3pm for half an hour. Kairos time (which is used more regularly in the New Testament) relates to life moments or seasons: Jesus came in the fullness of time. Again, culture matters here. Westerners tend to operate in a chronos world and rarely stop to think about how we might reunite these two distinct ways of being in the world.
The fact that we can reference an exact time like 3pm is a massive historical assumption. Next, we’ll take a quick tour of history to see how the age we live in shapes our view of time and ourselves.
Dimension 2: From Approaching Time to Keeping Time
Do you know how you keep time? Ancient playwright, Plautus, complained that the gods confounded humans by allowing them to distinguish between hours. Specifically, he lodged a complaint against the need to wait until a certain ‘time of day’ before eating dinner. He remarks, “when I was a boy, my belly was my sundial.” (Likely satire aimed to poke those resistant to using the new technology of a sundial. Those technophobes pre-dated the Luddites by 2000yrs).
Kelly Kapic offers a brief history of “timekeeping” in his book You are Only Human. He explains that, for millennia. people understood time as “contextual,” or in reference to the material world (what we see, experience, and feel). This means time was associated with sun and moon; evening quiet and morning cockcrow; falling leaves or melting snow. Eventually, sundials were replaced by mechanical clocks - beginning in large cities in the thirteenth century - and time became abstract and detached from the world. Today, this “noncontextual” time, or clock time, frames our reality and even our morality.
We wear time on our wrist and display it on our phones despite our physical context. As a result, people talk of ‘wasting time’, ‘spending time’, and ‘managing time’ with moral overtones. Clock time produces the values of speed, efficiency, and production (mechanistic values), which override the values of relationship, reflection, and presence (human values). The implicit goal is to overcome the limits of time.
George Woodcock claims that the clock is the key machine of the machine age that is dictating the habits of humankind. He laments, “Men (in factories) actually became like clocks, acting with a repetitive regularity which had no resemblance to the rhythmic life of a natural being.”
Lament turns into a jeremiad for Woodcock, “Quantity rather than quality becomes the criterion, the enjoyment is taken out of work itself, and the worker in his turn becomes a ‘clockwatcher’, concerned only when he will be able to escape to the scanty and monotonous leisure of industrial society, in which he ‘kills time’ by cramming in as much time-scheduled and mechanised enjoyment of cinema, radio, and newspapers as his wage packet and his tiredness allow.” (Read more in his 1944 essay, The Tyranny of the Clock).
Ultimately, Kapic and Woodcock are gesturing toward the distinction between humans and machines. Clock time serves machines extremely well, but the expectation that humans can and should be doing something every waking moment raises levels of anxiety and productivity shame, especially for creatives.
Timekeeping quietly narrates our view of the world. Embracing creaturely limits can not only lower our blood pressure, but remind us that God created us as humans, not machines.
Dimension 3: From Timekeeping to Time-Tracking
Drucker first made the argument that effective executives must know and track their time in the same way industrial economies learned to vigorously track manual labor activities to improve operations. An entire industry was spawned to systematically improve time-use. Automated tools track professionals’ use of time to help prioritize, eliminate low-value activities, and increase time discipline. It’s big money. We have inherited these insights…and burdens.
One famous artifact of this executive effort is William Oncken’s, Who’s Got the Monkey article. He outlines three time-takers for leaders: boss-imposed time, system-imposed time (peers), and self-imposed time (subordinates and discretionary time). He reveals a way to keep self-imposed time more effectively, which helps leaders prioritize.
Their advice remains: Don’t assume you know where you are investing your time—track it. See where your discretionary time has become in-discretionary time. Turn the dials as needed for the good of the organization you serve and your family or friends.
These practices aid the exercise of stewarding God’s gift of time. However, it can slide into the mechanistic value shifts described above where production suprasses presence.
A counter-practice is baked into the architecture of time that can rework your relationship with it.
Dimension 4: Sabbath-time
Rabbi Abraham Heschel suggests the Bible is more concerned with time (history) than with space (geography) because “it is not the thing that lends significance to a moment, it is the moment that lends significance to things.”
Heschel calls Judaism a religion of time aiming at the sanctification of time. While this borders on abstraction, he concretizes his words in the idea of Sabbath. He explains that Sabbath is a central Jewish ritual that forms the architecture of time - a dimension we can’t see. It’s like a new kind of time that gives shape to the other six days and celebrates time and creation itself, instead of simply the results of creation.
Sabbath-time, established by God’s ceasing in creation and practiced by Jesus in his earthly life, reminds us our heavenly Father works when we don’t.
Sabbath restores context to time.
Sabbath pronounces our limits loudly and regularly.
Sabbath fosters reflection and relationship.
Sabbath resets the goodness of the six-day work week.
Sabbath descales the hidden value assumptions clock-time hands us.
Sabbath resurfaces our humanity even when our production ceases.
As time marches on, let it remind you that you are a dependent creature, not an independent creator. As you manage your time, remember Drucker is still right: effective executives will, “know thy time,” but wise leaders will also know the God of time and the invitation to Sabbath rest.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, March 2023 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
Generational Tension in the Workplace (Est. 4-5 min)
Who gets to set your office party playlist? Do you go with Springsteen, The Beatles, and The Supremes or Swift, Bieber, and The Weeknd? Do you prioritize parking, ‘acoustic privacy,’ and an adjacent cafeteria (Boomer favorites) or tech-friendly spaces, biodegradable office products, and a complimentary avocado toast bar (Gen Z selections)?
These questions are tangential to the real tensions. Generational fault lines often remain unspoken, but we still feel them. The revolutionary speed of technology means generations inhabit different worlds and don’t always share customs, values, or language. How can we resolve these issues? Or, are we even supposed to?
To borrow a phrase I first heard from Andy Stanley, we need to determine if this is a problem to solve or a tension to manage.
Solving always seems better than managing at first glance. But tension can be helpful. Stanley shows that the genius of human invention is often a direct result of human thumbs, which creates tension for all sorts of delicate and intricate movements – think writing calligraphy, picking up a contact lens, or using chopsticks.
Generational tension can be helpful in your workplace. You can think of these as organic checks and balances. Since there are five diverse generations in the workforce today, that’s a lot of balancing. It takes wisdom (and an occasional whimsical playlist) to navigate the fault lines, but it can even turn into a competitive advantage.
New Horizons: Reframe First
I love God’s reframing question to Abraham and Sarah at the Oaks of Mamre, “Is anything too difficult for the Lord?” (Gen 18:13).
Andy Crouch has a lovely description of the way culture remakes the world: ‘culture shapes the horizons of the possible.’ When you reframe the question to ask, “how can we manage tension for the benefit of all?”... you change the possible outcomes.
One of the common accusations against the younger generation is that they rely too heavily on short-term thinking (the same complaint is lodged against every “younger” generation). If only “they” could see long-term implications… They are coddled and have unrealistic expectations. Ouch! Similarly, the more experienced generation is accused of hanging on too long and not being nimble. If only “they” could let go, learn new tricks… Innovate or die, right? Gulp!
Sounds like tension, but there is no need to proverbially cut off your thumb. You can move beyond age discrimination.
You can’t be two ages at the same time. It is almost too obvious to write, but helps pronounce the juxtaposition of a 34 year-old and 64 year-old facing the same organizational decision. Not only do they likely see things differently, but they decide on two different time horizons. The 34 year-old is likely a decade into their career. The 64 year-old is likely less than a decade from completing their career, maybe just a few years. The math is different. The risk calculations have different horizons. Company cultures often lean one way or the other, which creates a tension that people try to resolve. Which way should you lean?
Benjamin Jones’ research at Northwestern’s Kellogg School of Management demonstrates that the likelihood of a major discovery increases steadily through one’s twenties and thirties and then declines dramatically through one’s forties, fifties, and sixties (see Arthur Brooks, From Strength to Strength). Score one for the younger generations.
Conversely, the average CEO of a Fortune 500 company is 57. The average age of S&P board members is 63. Warren Buffett is in his 90s and still outperforming the young finance moguls. When people are selecting guiding voices, they tend to value varied experiences, which accompanies age. That’s a point for the older generations.
The reframe doesn’t ask who wins, but what do our generational tensions make possible.
Clashing values: Listen First
“He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, It is folly and shame unto him.” (Prov. 18:13). Speaking of generational differences, how do you like that King James rendering of “listen before you answer”?
Yuval Levin’s book, A Time to Build, has a case study that tackles the tension in what he deems a “crisis of journalism.” Not only is there swelling public doubt about the integrity of the journalistic profession, mass misinformation from non-journalists, a rising celebrity culture within the profession that rejects editorial review, but also a growing crevasse between generations. He explains, “Many older professional journalists now have stories to tell about the clashes between this younger, more activist journalistic ethic and the traditional professionalism of the newsroom.” Later, he records a conversation from a New York Times veteran who explained that one generation came of age when you tried to fit into the institution and the younger generation was brought up to believe their voices needed to be heard, or the institution should change to accommodate them.
How does wisdom insert itself into this pressure point? When values clash, people clash. When people clash, well, there is normally a winner and loser. Proverbs 27:17 offers a way out of the dilemma: both can win because iron sharpens iron. Both grow as they clash.
First, wisdom does not ask, how do we all get along? The goal is not to tamp down generational differences so there is no more tension. That’s another way of solving. Managing means listening, which means naming and explaining the differences.
Second, explain what’s behind the unspoken points of tension. In the case of journalism, acknowledging the tension of objective reporting (value 1) and social activism (value 2) is a good start. Listen first, then respectfully disagree. Applaud disagreement when you see it done well – or even attempted. Although values won’t fall cleanly on generational lines, listening first can create positive conflict that will allow for greater understanding.
Third, what do you do when listening leads to greater tension? It can help to add a value. One way to adjust the horizon of possibility is by introducing a triangulating value. Back to the field of journalism – instead of objectivity vs justice – add courage to the mix. It might be a shared value that everyone can adhere to. It takes courage to be an activist and it takes courage to report objectively. One point of shard agreement is better than none.
Honoring the other: Go First
If you commit to managing the tension, you realize there is no finish line to eliminate frustrations. They will remain. So, outdo one another in showing honor (Rom. 12:10).
A multi-generational team enjoys innate advantages. Teams can combine wildly innovative, energetic, young workers with savvy, sensible, networked older workers. A masterful reporter who has covered 10 election cycles can link up with a hungry, enthusiastic recent grad who possesses infinite social media capabilities. Sounds like a win - win.
The challenge here, for us, is to go first. Initiate. Ask for help. Build a relationship. Learn from someone who doesn’t stand where you stand or assume what you assume. With a dash of humility, we can create intricate new solutions to real problems that need solving.
Christian wisdom reframes, listens, and initiates. That’s a good leadership playlist.
And, if you need some inspiration, go listen to Ryan Adams covering the 1989 Taylor Swift album or Amos Lee’s tribute album to Chet Baker. The older honors the younger and the younger honors the older. That’s a multi-generational song set for your next office party.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, February 2023 Edition
Ben Dockery
Executive Director
How to Work Like an Ant (Est. 4-5 min)
If you were asked to teach about the value of work – what would you say? What advice would you pass along? What book would you assign?
Every generation grapples with the role of work in their lives, especially as the workforce continues to be disrupted. People tend to emphasize and avoid the mistakes of the past generation by establishing contrary behaviors. In the end, this invariably leads to a whole new set of difficulties.
Proverbs reminds us that the Lord gives wisdom: “from his lips come knowledge and understanding,” (Prov 2:6) and that includes guidance on how we work. Let’s look at a case study.
Proverbs 6 records a father’s instruction on the value of work: “Go to the ant, you slacker! Observe its ways and become wise.” This was written almost 3000 years ago, yet it’s still timeless wisdom. You could even argue this is a human-centered talent development that helps offset today’s retention issues. The “slacker” is not a degrading term he thrust upon his son in the proverbial lesson, but a figure that runs throughout the Proverbs. The slacker, or sluggard (my preferred translation), is contrasted to the diligent. Like many of the sets of two in Proverbs, the author wants you to see that you generally have two options: wisdom or foolishness, life or death, humility or pride, fear of God or fear of man. Solomon holds up two more options: the sluggard or the diligent.
The self-disciplined, industrious insect becomes the teacher. Insect wisdom, according to Solomon, is worth observing and even mimicking. So, what curriculum is this six-legged creature offering? Let’s look at three features: self-discipline, foresight, and follow-through.
First, the ant labors “without leader, administrator, or ruler.” She shows initiative and self-discipline. (She? Since most ants we see are females, I’m playing the odds that Solomon pointed to a female worker – no gender bias intended). This trait pairs well with Gen Z’s value of flexibility and autonomy at work.
Initiative is high on every manager’s hiring wish list. She works without being supervised. In contrast, the slacker stays in bed (see 6:9). In fact, later in Proverb 26:14, the sluggard is depicted as ‘hinged to the bed’ - a modern rendering might refer to constant ‘scrolling on the phone.’ This paints a vivid image and highlights the value of workers who are self-starters. The apostle Paul adds further motivation when he writes, “Whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something done for the Lord and not for men.” One Christian component of work is that our efforts are first and foremost for God. We don’t simply rely on pressure from the boss to get to work; we work enthusiastically without leader or ruler, as if serving the Lord Himself.
Second, the ant “prepares its provisions in summer.” She now displays gifts of planning and foresight.
This is another high-performing employee trait. Old Testament scholar Derek Kidner suggests the ant knows the times – unlike the sluggard, who doesn’t know if it’s summer or harvest. Some of you are clutching your FranklinCovey planner (or app) and rejoicing in the recognition of a good plan. Others, like me, are slumping your shoulders and re-reading the Proverb for a nod to flexibility and spontaneity. I think the point goes beyond personality types to show that you must put the seeds in the ground before you can expect food to grow. Preparation matters. Foresight to see seasons or cycles of work are worth building your life around.
Finally, our insect friend “gathers its food during harvest.” She works with diligence and follow-through. Some of the hardest workers, who you might not suspect, fail at this very point due to overcommitment
This is likely the greatest lesson of the ant. It is easier to get started on a project than to finish one. A friend of mine describes this in football terms: “getting stuck in the red zone,” which is right before the endzone. You drive the ball 90 yards down the field, but don’t cross the goal line. The final 10-20% of a work project can take as much effort as the first 80-90%. Proverbs 19:24 provides a memorable description of the sluggard on this point: “The sluggard buries his hand in the dish and will not even bring it back to his mouth.” I hope you love that image as much as I do - he made the meal but doesn’t eat. In contrast, the ant demonstrates follow-through by gathering during harvest. She finishes the project she started. Don’t grow tired of doing good and stop on the 10-yard line. Finish.
These Judeo-Christian values: self-discipline, foresight, and follow-through, lead to human flourishing.
Ultimately, we are free to labor like the ant because we serve a Christ who accomplished the work the Father gave him to do. He said, ‘it is finished.’ His completed work earned us status as daughters and sons, so we don’t work to earn the wage of God’s approval. Rather, we work with a full inheritance that motivates us to diligence in difficult labor conditions.
May the generation behind you see you work this way. Modeling these behaviors, after all, is the best curriculum available.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, January 2023 Edition
Mike Woodruff
Board Chairman
When Are We? (Est. 3-4 min)
When are we? I am not asking, “Where are we?” or “Who are we?” Those are also important questions. I am asking something slightly different, equally important and far less discussed. When are we?
When are you?
What is unique about this moment? In what ways are the forces and factors that are shaping you meaningfully different from those that shaped people in the 2nd century? How about those living in the 13th century? In what ways is your life today different than your life ten years ago? Two years ago? Has anything happened in the last month that materially changes how you should think and live?
In their efforts to get our attention, the news media is increasingly loud, lurid and angry. Does that change your world? Does it change your soul? How about your smartphone? Is it affecting your heart? What about the other interruption technologies? Do they change how you think or what you think about?
When are you?
I am raising the “when” question because it shapes the work of Lakelight Institute. We are trying to figure out how to live God-honoring lives in this rapidly changing world. Our tag line is: “timeless wisdom for a modern life.”
There are four issues informing our efforts:
First: We Believe the West is Suffering from a Wisdom Crisis. You’ve likely heard that “common sense is not very common.” The phrase has been around for a while. I raise it here because it seems more appropriate than ever. From where we stand, a growing number of people are adopting positions that are doomed to fail because they are divorced from reality and disparaging of history. We are drowning in information but shy of insight. We are long on data but short on sanity. What we lack is wisdom. Given this, we believe the way forward must include a foundation of the time-tested truths of the past. In a world that is addicted to “fast and new,” we want to champion “thoughtful and timeless.”
Second: We Believe the Past Shines a Light on the Future. I hated history until a college professor helped me see its relevance. Now I can’t get enough. In fact, one of the principal reasons I set out to develop a podcast on the one hundred most important people, events and ideas of the last three thousand years, is because I wanted to better understand today. It was increasingly obvious that the way to live thoughtfully and faithfully in the future involved a better understanding of the past.
Third: We believe the Modern World has Much to Offer: Because some who embrace history are dismissive of the present, we want to go on record in favor of the many upsides of modern life. We are not only thinking about things like antibiotics and anesthesia, we are also thinking about open markets and growing literacy. Does 21st century life have downsides? Yes! Things have been going wrong since Genesis 3, and there are ways in which science and technology have not only allowed us to grow more food, they have also allowed us to build bigger bombs. We are not offering Modernism a blank check. We are simply noting that there are many aspects of today’s world worth embracing.
Fourth: All of this leads us to state our goal: Timeless Wisdom for Modern Life: In I Chronicles 12, we read about a group of people from Issachar, “who understood the times and knew what Israel should do.” Our goal is to follow in their path. We are not the first people to do so. But it is worth stating that they are a model.
Moreover, our goal is not just to grow in understanding. James 3:13 warns against wanting to be counted wise – i.e., of building a reputation for wisdom. Instead it instructs us to, “Live well, live wisely, live humbly” because, “It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts.” (MSG)
Our prayer is that the work of Lakelight helps all of us live more faithfully to the glory of God. Thanks for reading this. And thanks for praying for us and supporting us as we seek to craft resources and experiences for you to better understand the times.
© Mike Woodruff | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, December 2022 Edition
Glenn Wishnew
Associate Director
Loving Politics in a Polarized World (Est. 4-5min)
“Agh, they’re all idiots.”
My dad thought little of politicians. He was ahead of his time: public trust in government began to sharply decline in 2007. As trust has waned, partisan hostility has increased. Today, both Right and Left view the other side as “closed-minded, dishonest, immoral and unintelligent.” A democratic system of government doesn’t work, it turns out, when we don’t trust the other half of the demos. In more famous words, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
There are many explanations being given for how we got into this sad state of affairs. Some blame social media. Some blame longer-term, more fundamental social disruptions. Others blame identity politics. Their reasoning goes like this: if your politics is core to your identity, then when your politics are threatened, you are threatened. In such a state, core democratic virtues such as compromise or civil disagreement become tenuous at best.
However, the more intriguing question to me is not what forces produced this political environment, but how do Christians engage faithfully within it?
I see two different models for how Christians are approaching political action in the broader culture. After describing them, I will quickly evaluate both models and identify their merits and deficiencies.
The first approach I would classify as Withdrawal. Many argue that Christian leaders should help their congregants pray and read the Bible, but not correlate their faith to contemporary politics. Attributing the ‘Christian’ label to a policy position feels at best arrogant and at worst a violation of the third commandment. Further, Jesus was a-political; His kingdom was “not of this world” (Jn. 18:36). The Church should therefore follow His example. Moreover, these folks argue that Christian political involvement damages the witness of the Church to the watching world. When the gospel becomes identified with a political party, Christians unintentionally confirm the world’s suspicions that religious conviction is a thin veneer for an inward will-to-power. As of a 2019 survey conducted by Pew, what I’m labelling Withdraw is Americans’ majority view when asked whether Churches should engage in politics.
I want to commend this position on two accounts: First, Scripture gives many principles for justice; but discerning how those principles should manifest in concrete policies is the work of practical wisdom, not biblical command. Christians should be thoughtful when applying Biblical principles to partisan issues. Second, in agreement with the withdrawing stance, history is replete with examples of churches diluting their message and disgracing their witness by involving themselves in national politics.
Nevertheless, there are many reasons why Christians cannot evacuate the political sphere. I’ll highlight three.
First, God commands Adam (and therefore us) to “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.” (Gen. 1:28) All humans, including Christians, have been entrusted with the stewardship of the whole earth – and that work requires collaboration. To fulfill this task, we have to make decisions, and elevate some people to execute those decisions. In short, we have to do politics to live together and obey God’s first command. Additionally, God institutes government to protect the humans made in His image and to punish wrongdoers (Rom 13:4). Because government is instituted by God, Christians honor authorities (1 Pet. 2:17) and support them in the fulfillment of their God-ordained task. Third, at a basic level, Christians engage politics to love their neighbors. To love them requires loving justice which requires doing politics.
The second model of political engagement is one I’ll identify simply as War. The label War befits this orientation because a war shifts moral mindsets. During wartime, killing isn’t murder. It’s combat. Moreover, declaring war requires a satisfactory explanation – you must justify a war before you fight it.
There’s a cadre of Christians who believe U.S. politics is a war zone. Traditional moral calculus need no longer apply. Reasoning with the other side on their terms, recognizing flaws in your own positions, aspiring to be ‘conciliatory’ and ‘winsome’ are not viable expectations anymore. That’s peacetime thinking. The justifications for war, according to these thinkers, arise from shifts in the cultural landscape. We now live in a negative world where voicing Christian convictions could cost you significantly – at least if you aspire to be the CEO of an Austrailian football club. Therefore, Christians called to fight this war must get their hands dirty by electing officials who sponsor our particular interests (regardless of their flaws), who deride opponents who disagree with our principles and who forego the need for cultural respectability.
There are merits to this approach. First, if Christians in politics aim at being inoffensive – a charge which War-folks accuse their detractors of – they will be culturally impotent. Faithfulness to truth will offend a world who “suppresses the truth in unrighteousness.” (Rom. 1:18). While we must not seek to offend our neighbor, that will inevitably be the case sometimes. Further, their justification for war is legitimate: America in 2022 is a different world. Ten years ago, only 48% of Americans supported same-sex marriage; Today, that number’s 71%. To put it mildly, there are new issues to address and new neighbors to love
But love is also the reason why the war approach is inadequate.
If loving our neighbors is a core motivation for Christian politics, then it must also be a core value. Loving our neighbor in a polarized political climate requires reasoning with them, not publicly scorning them. It requires recognizing truths in their argument while maintaining the truths in ours. Lastly, love requires pursuing persuasion and not coercion. After all, to quote the Apostle Paul, “Love does not insist on its own way…but rejoices in the truth.” (1 Cor. 13:5)
If love became the loadstar for political engagement, perhaps Christians would be able to repel nation-wide declines in trust of government and in consideration of neighbors. More importantly, however, we would be faithful to God – the One we are ultimately responsible to.
© Glenn Wishnew | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, November 2022 Edition
Light up the room (Est. 2-3min)
I remember sitting on a crowded living room floor over twenty years ago with twenty plus college students. We waited on the homeowner, Steve, to start his Sunday night Bible study. After a few acoustic worship songs, Steve opened his Bible and off we went. I took notes as fast as I could. Steve seemed like he knew the authors of the Bible - he explained the books and letters they wrote with historical detail and deep personal insight that seemed to light up the room.
The study seemed different from other Bible study experiences. It captured my imagination. It made me curious to learn more. Have you had this experience? Someone starts making sense of your life today by making sense of the ancient Scriptures. It can be a little eerie. It can be life changing.
I still remember one connection Steve made about David. The Bible introduces him as a young, ruddy worker who is out in his father’s field diligently protecting the sheep. No one is watching, yet he works. David does not even make it home for the family meal when God’s prophet arrives to anoint the next king of Israel. Just a few pages before, King Saul was introduced as a handsome young man out looking for his runaway donkeys. Steve told us to pay attention. I had never noticed the detail that Saul lost his donkeys. Why would a biblical author include this? Imagination unleashed. The Old Testament often shows you, not tells you, something you need to learn. We compared and contrasted David and Saul. We traced the trajectories of their lives given their initial literary introductions. What was God doing?
Eugene Peterson suggests that Christian discipleship is a process of paying more and more attention to God’s activity and less and less attention to our own. We do this by being immersed in the story of Scripture.
Peterson writes, “We enter this story, following the story-making, storytelling Jesus, and spend the rest of our lives exploring the amazing and exquisite details, the words and sentences that go into the making of the story of our creation, salvation, and life of blessing.” Reading is a way we learn to inhabit the world.
Reading rightly requires imagination. We’re tempted to read the Bible for mere information, but that can inhibit the Scriptures from unleashing their transformative power. Professor Kevin Vanhoozer agrees, stating, “My concern is that many Evangelicals are suffering from malnourished imaginations… We want to believe the Bible, but we are unable to see our world in biblical terms… That leads to a fatal disconnect between our belief-system and our behavior, our faith and our life.”
This does not imply only creative interpretations of the Bible are valid or that we need to constantly find new meanings. Quite the opposite. We look to the best of the church’s insights – timeless wisdom – and allow our hearts and minds to step into God’s word and apply truth in fresh ways.
Modern life requires the integrity of working (often from home) when no one is watching. Your task might be supply chain management, pharmaceutical drug research, truck driver deliveries, or third grade lesson plans. Pay attention. It can be a little eerie to read a morning proverb and realize it applies directly to the business deal of the day. But right reading can reconnect our belief and behavior, and that can be life changing.
On a final note, one of our daughters recently came home from school and told me she learned that curiosity is like the wick of a candle. Once you light it, it can light up the room for a long time. At Lakelight, the talks we sponsor, the classes we offer, and the articles we highlight are all intended to light the candle of curiosity.
We hope to spark your biblical and theological imagination so it remains vibrant, even twenty years from now.
© Ben Dockery | This article was first published in Lakelight Monthly, October 2022 Edition
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Ben Dockery Executive Director
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Readings from Lakelight Press
(This is a project we are really excited about. More information coming soon. Enjoy these books from Mike Woodruff)
Futureview | Mike Woodruff
FutureView: Gaining Perspective on the Rising Waves of Change
Mike Woodruff
The Life of Jesus Christ: Love, Life, Message, Mission | Mike Woodruff
The Life of Jesus Christ: Love, Life, Message, Mission
Mike Woodruff
