Wednesday, November 25, 2009

An Apology for being away...

This has been an extremely taxing school year thus far. I've had very little time to think much about anything other than my classes. But I haven't written on that either for a while. Just been very busy. Child #5 is due in about two weeks and we are busy preparing for that as well. Life, I have found, has a way of taking the moments you want to do something constructive with and turning your mind to jell-o before you can get there. Therefore, I think I have watched more movies and television than I would normally consider good. But on that thought, I have a certain theory I'm working on that I may be in a position to post on later this year.
Nonetheless, I am hopeful that Thanksgiving break and Christmas break after that will give me enough down time to begin contributing to my blog again. I have been posting on my facebook account, which has a somewhat larger following.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Calling for Truth

Thanks to some very active Board members, I had the opportunity to be interviewed about Classical Education on Dr. Paul Dean's Calling for Truth a talk radio program on WLFJ here in Greenville. You can listen to it here.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

The Science of Refutation

"Bless me, what do they teach them at these school?"
Thus spoke Professor Digory Kirk at the end of C.S. Lewis' The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. Earlier in the book he had lamented the apparent lack of logical training in modern schools, a fact which has been proven over and over again in government-funded schools across the world and is as true today as it was when Lewis wrote in 1950.
The current health care debate has many more details than I can possible comment on, but one of the more puzzling aspects of this is the very public debate over death panels. If I am hearing correctly, former Governor Sarah Palin first alerted most of us to the essential nature of this aspect of the Obamacare plan, not as something spelled out in a particular section of the bill, but as something that would take place in essence if the bill were passed as is. There is a big difference between saying we are going to pull the plug on Grandma and doing it because it makes sense to someone in authority because Grandma is just too much of a drain on the money pot.
The interesting thing about this for me has been the apparent lack of ability to form a real refutation of this charge. Everyone I have listened to, speaking from the left, has denied the death panel charge and said something to the effect of, "Of course we would never want to do that" without ever actually saying it would not happen. All they really ever get around to saying is that the bill does not call for death panels. But again, this is different from saying we will write language in that prevents the bill from being enacted in such a way as to make death panels a essential characteristic of Obamacare.
Doug Wilson wrote on this a while back from a different point, but I think the point still stands. You can read his post here. If you want to refute a charge, it is important that you speak to what the charge actually says. Neither Palin nor anyone else said that on line such-and-such of the bill it says there will be death panels composed to determine if it is in the best interest of the government or the people to continue paying for medicine or treatment for the elderly or terminally ill. What they said it that the language of the bill is sufficiently weak as to allow for this to take place and that given human nature and the federal government, it most certainly will eventually list in that direction if imposed as is.
So all these media guys and senators and whatnot running around saying it's ridiculous to suggest that the bill has death panels written in are not refuting the charge, they are stating the obvious, which is not what the charge is about. The charge of death panels is about the consequences of ideas, not about what words are on the page.
If this health care bill is passed, this is what will happen down the road.
"Why don't they teach logic at these schools?"

Monday, August 17, 2009

A Chestertonian Hymn

O God of earth and altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
But take away our pride.

From all that terror teaches,
From lies of tongue and pen,
From all the easy speeches
That comfort cruel men,
From sale and profanation
Of honour and the sword,
From sleep and from damnation,
Deliver us, good Lord.

Tie in a living tether
The prince and priest and thrall,
Bind all our lives together,
Smite us and save us all;
In ire and exultation
Aflame with faith, and free,
Lift up a living nation,
A single sword to thee.

- G.K. Chesterton

Monday, August 3, 2009

The Green Book

In 1944, C. S. Lewis did a series of essays, lectures I think, that were published as The Abolition of Man. These lectures were a rebuttal of a book for "boys and girls in the upper forms of school." This book, known to Lewis fans as The Green Book because he graciously withheld the identity of the authors and the real title to the book, has been a mystery to me for several years now.
Not anymore. Doing some reading and searching about The Abolition of Man, I came across this web site and discovered the identity of The Green Book and the authors.
I already did an Amazon search and came up empty-handed on used copies. I'll bet there are none to be had. With the scathing review Lewis gave it, I'll bet the publisher did not even renew the copyright. Surely someone could scan the thing into Google Books or Internet Archive or something. I'd love to see some of the passages Lewis talks about in their original context.
Oh, and the actual title of The Green Book is The Control of Language: A Critical Approach to Reading and Writing and it was written by Alex King and Martin Ketley.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Christopher Columbus (1435-1506)

One day in the autumn of 1486 a stranger knocked at the gate of a convent called "La Rabida," not far from the little Spanish seaport of Palos. He held by the hand a little boy, and when the monk who opened the door asked what was wanted he answered, "My child and I are tired and hungry. Will you give us a morsel of bread, and let us rest here awhile?"
They were invited to enter, and food was set before them. During the meal the stranger began to talk about the Western Ocean and what must be on the other side of it. "Most men," he said, "think that beyond the Azores there is nothing but a sea of darkness; but I believe that beyond those islands there is another and a larger land."
The prior of the convent, and the physician of Palos who happened to be present, were greatly interested in what their visitor had to say, and asked him to tell them his name and something of his history.
"I am called Christopher Columbus," he said. "I was born in Genoa, and there my boyhood was spent. I loved when a child to watch the sailors haul up the anchor and let loose the sails when a ship began her voyage. My play was to learn the names of the ropes and find out what each was for.
"My father sent me to the University of Pavia; and there I learned about the stars that guide the seaman on his way. I also learned to draw maps and charts. While drawing those maps I used to wonder whether there was not some land beyond the Canaries and the Azores.
"At fifteen I became a sailor. I went on voyages to England and Ireland, to Greece and elsewhere. On one of my voyages our ship was wrecked on the rocky coast of Portugal, but I got to land by the help of a plank. I stayed awhile in Portugal, and there I married the daughter of a sea captain who was the governor of Porto Santo, one of the Madeira Islands.
"I afterwards visited Porto Santo, and there I met many men whose lives were spent in sailing the sea. They told me some wonderful tales. One said that a Portuguese pilot named Martin Vicente had picked up at sea, twelve hundred miles west of Portugal, a piece of strange wood that had been carved by the hand of man. My brother-in-law said that he had seen at Porto Santo great pieces of jointed canes; and that a friend had told him about two human bodies which had been washed up at Flores, 'very broad-faced' and not at all like Christians.
"All these things made me believe more firmly in the idea of a land to the westward; and at length I determined to find that land.
"But I was poor. I could not buy a ship nor pay a crew. I went to my native Genoa, where the masts in the harbor rise as close as the trees in a wood. I explained my plans to the rich merchants there, and begged them to help me. But my countrymen were afraid to send any vessel of theirs beyond the Azores. They thought that west of those islands, there was nothing but the 'Sea of Darkness.'
"I went to Lisbon and asked the Portuguese king for help. Again I was disappointed; but I was not discouraged.
"I then came to Spain, and at last the good Queen Isabella heard my story. A council of learned men was called to consider my plan. They said it was wild, and advised her Majesty to give me no aid.
"Thus, I am again disappointed. The little money that I had is spent, and I am a beggar. It seems as if the world is against me. Yet I am sure that there is a land beyond the sea."
The prior, the physician, and the monks who had gathered about Columbus were much interested. Father Perez, one of the monks, had been confessor to Queen Isabella, and he wrote a letter to her begging that she would see Columbus again. She consented, and Columbus went from the convent to the palace to see her.
The queen again refused his request, and Columbus set out for France hoping that the king of that country might help him. But one of the officers of Isabella's court persuaded her to change her mind, and a messenger was sent to bring Columbus back into the royal presence.
King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were in camp at Santa Fe near Granada, which they had but lately captured from the floors; and there they signed an agreement to supply Columbus with two ships, and to pay the crews.
It was easy for the sovereigns to promise crews and to pay them; but it was very hard to find men who were willing to sail on such a voyage. Even the criminals who were promised pardon if they would go, refused. To sail into the "Sea of Darkness" seemed certain death to them.
At last, however, all difficulties were overcome. Two wealthy gentlemen added a third ship to the two supplied by the king and queen; and the wonderful voyage began. The Santa Maria with a crew of fifty men was commanded by Columbus himself; the Pinta with thirty men was in charge of Martin Pinzon; and the Nina or "Baby" with twenty-four men was commanded by Martin's brother, Vicente Pinzon.
At eight o'clock on the morning of August 3, 1492, the sails were hoisted, and the little expedition left the harbor of Palos.
On the third day out, the Pinta lost her rudder. Fortunately they were then not far from the Canary Islands. They therefore steered for Teneriffe where they had the vessel repaired.
When they had sailed about six weeks they were astonished to find that the magnetic needle varied from its usual direction. Soon after observing this, they reached a part of the ocean where a great field of seaweed lay all around them. This was what is called the "Sargasso Sea," and the ships of Columbus were the first that ever sailed across it.
They observed another strange thing. The wind in this part of the ocean blew steadily, night and day, to the westward. It was the northeast trade wind, which was unknown to sailors along the coast and in the inland seas.
They had excellent weather; but the men began to be fearful lest they could never beat back against the trade wind; and it was hard to keep them in good spirits.
Happily, soon afterward, they saw some birds, and that made them sure that land was not far off. Then the Pinta fished up a fragment of sugar cane and a log of wood; and the Nina sighted a green branch covered with dog-rose flowers.
At ten o'clock one night, Columbus saw a light ahead; and the next morning they landed on one of the Bahama Islands. Which island this was we are not quite sure; but it was probably the one which the natives called Guanahani. Columbus named it San Salvador.
When Columbus stepped from his boat he carried with him the royal banner of Spain. Kneeling upon the shore with his companions, he kissed the ground, gave thanks to God, and took possession of the land in the name of Ferdinand and Isabella.
The expedition afterwards discovered the islands of Cuba, Haiti and others of the West India group.
On the shore of Haiti the Santa Maria went aground and became a wreck. With the two remaining vessels, Columbus soon afterwards set sail for Spain, and on the 15th of March, 1493, he dropped anchor in the port of Palos.
Ferdinand and Isabella were then at Barcelona, and they received him with great honor. He showed them curious plants and gayly-colored parrots, and, more interesting than these, nine natives whom he had brought from the newly-discovered islands.
There was now no doubt that Columbus was right, and that the "Sea of Darkness" beyond the Azores was only a dream.
It was determined that Columbus should make another expedition. In six months seventeen vessels and fifteen hundred men were ready to sail, and the second great voyage was begun. It was on this voyage that Jamaica, Porto Rico, and several smaller islands were discovered.
Most of the fifteen hundred men, however, went with Columbus, not in the hope of discovering new lands, but for the purpose of colonizing the island of Haiti. Columbus had learned on his first voyage that on that island there were deposits of gold; so now a mining town was founded in the gold region of Haiti, and the work of digging was begun. But the Spaniards were not fond of work. They therefore made slaves of the natives and forced them to dig in the mines; and a large quantity of gold was secured.
Some of the greedy colonists thought of another and easier way of making money. They captured a number of the natives and sent them to Spain to be sold as slaves; and, strange to say, Columbus permitted this.
When Queen Isabella heard of it she was very angry with Columbus, and asked him who had given him the right to make slaves of her subjects. She commanded that every one of the Indians should be made free and sent home.
This enslaving of the Indians was the beginning of the downfall of Columbus. Isabella never afterwards felt toward him as she had before.
However, when he returned to Spain he related a pitiful tale about the sufferings of the colonists in Haiti; and the queen furnished him with supplies for them, and provided a fleet of six vessels with which he set sail on May 30, 1498.
On this third voyage a new land was discovered. One day, three hill-tops were seen rising out of the sea, and soon the ships approached a large island. Columbus called it, from its three peaks, Trinidad, and the island is still known by that name.
From Trinidad they sailed to the southwest until they approached another shore. Columbus had now discovered the southern grand division of the New World, but he did not know this. He supposed that the land was only another island.
He was anxious to get back to the colony on the island of Haiti, and so, sailing now to the northward, the ships in due time reached their harbor.
In Haiti there were men plotting against Columbus. Some of the colonists who had not found so much gold as they had hoped for, returned to Spain and complained to the king that Columbus was managing the colony badly.
Ferdinand and Isabella partly believed what they said. As Columbus had done one wrong thing when he made slaves of the Indians, the king and queen thought he might do wrong in other things.
Accordingly, they sent to Haiti a man named Bobadilla (bo ba deel' yd) to take charge of the colony; and Bobadilla on his arrival, accused Columbus of cruelty and injustice, and sent him to Spain in chains. The captain of the vessel in which he sailed wished to remove these fetters, but Columbus would not allow him to do so. He wore them to the end of the voyage, and kept them as relics ever afterwards.
As soon as the vessel reached Spain, Columbus wrote a letter to the king and queen telling them what he had done, and what had been done to him. When Isabella read it, she is said to have shed tears. His fetters were at once removed; and Ferdinand and Isabella refused to listen to the charges which Bobadilla had made against him.
Columbus never so much as imagined that he had discovered a new continent. He supposed that Cuba, Jamaica, and the other islands which he visited were some of what are called the "Indies", or islands near India. For a long time everybody else supposed so too; and hence it is that Cuba and the neighboring islands have always been called the West Indies.
About this time, the Pope divided between Spain and Portugal all the newly-discovered lands, and all that might afterwards be discovered. The dividing line was a meridian passing three hundred leagues west of the Azores. Spain's share was all that lay west of this meridian, and Portugal's all that lay east of it.
Spain was jealous of Portugal, and anxious to secure a part of that kingdom's share. Columbus suggested a way to do this. He assured Ferdinand and Isabella that by sailing still farther to the westward, beyond the West Indies, it would be possible to reach some of the islands which might be claimed by Portugal; and of course he was correct in this view.
He asked the sovereigns for a fleet with which to make the attempt; and in 1502, with four ships and a hundred and fifty men, he set sail from Cadiz. On the voyage he landed at Jamaica and other islands; but although he was absent more than two years, he accomplished nothing of importance.
He returned to Spain in 1504, and died two years later.
His body was buried at Valladolid (val ya do leed'), but was afterwards carried across the ocean and interred in the cathedral of Santo Domingo on the island of Haiti. When that island was ceded by the Spaniards to France, the remains of the great navigator were removed to Havana; and there they rested until after the war between the United States and Spain, when they were taken back to Spain.

From Famous Men of Modern Times by John Haaren (public domain)

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Google has gone too far now, perfecting the art of time travel, they have taken their satellites back in time to capture some important moments in history from a Google Earth perspective. Here is one image they have brought us.












This is the top of Mount Ararat, just as the ark has settled onto the dry ground.

Seriously though, this image came from a website called the Glue Project and they have done a few interesting images called God's Eye View, essentially photoshopping some images to look like events from the Bible. The Ark one was neat. So it this one from the Red Sea Crossing.












Now more than ever, we cannot believe our eyes and must use the reason God gave us. That reminds me of a great line from "The Blue Cross" the first Father Brown story. When asked how Father Brown was sure that the thief masquerading as a priest was not a priest, Father Brown responds, "'You attacked reason,' said Father Brown. 'It's bad theology.'"

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Cute? Not really.



A friend on facebook posted this recently. I watched it, chuckled, and then stopped chuckling. It reminded me that we, too often, think things like this are cute. Our little children do things that are rebellious and we have a hard time holding back the snickers because it looks cute at the time. But cute sin turns into ugly sin when it is not dealt with properly and promptly.
This little girl has obviously been exposed to the language she is using. There is no mystery here. I am beginning to think that exposure is tantamount to approval in our culture. I have learned, even recently, how important it is to shield my own children from certain things. I've sat at the dinner table and had my children say things that I know they picked up from me, and been ashamed that they said it. My pastor often says that our children will take the sins we play with and perfect them. Sin is covenantal.
Don't think it's cute when three year olds do as this little girl does. If it is your three year old, don't approve of it by laughing, getting her to do it again so you can tape it, and don't post it in public.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Lorenzo the Magnificent - John Haaren

The thousand years between the downfall of the Roman Empire and the Discovery of America are called the Middle Ages—which means the ages between ancient and modern times. This was a very stormy period. In the early part, the barbarians overran Europe and destroyed almost every sign of civilization. They were brought under some control through the efforts of the Church, and, as time advanced, there was progress in the arts of civilized life. Schools were established in monasteries, and here and there in large cities, but there was no general popular education as we consider it now. This is not so strange, for there were no printed books. The printing press had not been invented; all books at that time were manuscripts, that is they were written by hand, for that is what the word manuscript means. They were written on parchment, which was sheepskin specially prepared so that it would take ink. Of course books written by hand were expensive, for it took a great deal of time to write them. Most of the people in Europe, therefore, lived and died without ever having a book in their hands. In only a few of the largest cities and monasteries was it possible to find a library containing as many as five hundred volumes. When at length the printing press was invented, the desire for knowledge became widely spread. People felt that they must have books to read, and to study. They saw the necessity for schools in which their children might be taught. Of all the countries of Europe none was more thoroughly awakened than Italy; and among the places that were thus aroused to a desire for knowledge of all kinds, one of the first was the city of Florence. Florence early became the home of many learned men, and no city did more for the enlightenment of Europe than she. Here lived the famous family of the Medici. For several generations the Medici had been engaged in what was then almost the only commerce of the world. This was trade with India. Caravans of camels brought silks and shawls, spices and precious stones from the far East to the shores of the Mediterranean. Ships transported them to Florence. Trains of pack horses and mules carried them from Florence across the passes of the Alps to the cities of northern and western Europe. This traffic had made the Medici very wealthy; and not only wealthy but powerful. For three hundred years the family ruled the city and people of Florence. But it was not their wealth alone that gave them their power. Their political influence based on industrial conditions was great also. The city was, like ancient Athens, a state. It made its own laws, and had the right to coin its own money; it made war or peace with foreign countries. The government of the state was republican. But Florence was one of the strangest little republics that ever existed. It had this peculiar law, that no man should hold the office of chief magistrate, unless he belonged to one of the guilds, or "arts" as they were called. These were about the same as our modern trades unions. But the Florentines had even more such unions than we have. Not only were there unions of carpenters and masons and others who worked with their hands, the people who worked with their heads were also united. There were "arts" or unions of the bankers, the merchants, the doctors, and the lawyers. From the members of the "arts" the Florentines chose their officers. The government of the city was vested in the "Great Council of Nine." These Nine consisted of seven who were head workers, and two who were hand workers. This arrangement brought those who worked with their heads and those who worked with their hands very close together. It caused the lawyers and merchants and bankers to have a friendly feeling for the carpenters and masons and others who made their living by "the sweat of their brows;" and no man could long be ruler in Florence who did not love the working people.
The Medici family were famed for doing good with their money among the people of Florence. And therefore one after another of them found it easy either to be made the "standard-bearer" as the president of the republic was called; or to have men put into office who would carry out his wishes. In 1449, just about the time when Europe was preparing to enter upon a period of renewed activity, one of the Medici line was born who was named Lorenzo. He died in 1492, the very year in which Columbus discovered America. His grandfather, Cosimo de Medici had given many fine buildings to Florence, among which was its famous cathedral. Lorenzo's father had also spent immense sums of money for the benefit of Florence. He had been really the ruler of the city for many years, although he very seldom held the office of standard-bearer, or had any official title. When he died the people of Florence desired that another Medici should manage the republic, and therefore they invited Lorenzo to do for them as his father had done. He accepted their invitation, and became their ruler. He proved to be much like the famous Athenian, Pisistratus—a tyrant who was not tyrannical. He ruled for the welfare of the people. He did not think that the first duty of a good ruler was to make his people soldiers. He saw that the best thing to be done for the Florentines was to enlighten them—to furnish them with books and schools. But where were books to be procured? There were monasteries in various parts of Europe in which were large numbers of books; and among these were manuscripts of many works of the old Greeks and Romans. But the principal hiding-place of manuscripts, especially those of Greek writers, was Constantinople. And it happened in a very strange way that the books of Constantinople were at that very time being brought to Western Europe. The inhabitants of Constantinople were Greeks. They read the writings of Homer and Plato, and the Gospels and Epistles of the New Testament, in the original Greek. The Turks who had long been menacing the city cared nothing for Homer and Plato; and they hated the books of the New Testament. They thought that men needed no book but the Koran of Mohammed. Many of them believed that no one ought to read any other book. At length, in 1453, Constantinople was actually taken by the Turks, and a great number of its people escaped and went forth to seek new and peaceful homes in Western Europe. Many went to Italy; and of these, several found their way to Florence. Some of these men brought manuscripts with them; and they told their new Italian friends that others might be obtained in Constantinople. After this the Medici, and men like them, carried on for years a diligent search for books. They sent men to the monasteries of Italy, Germany, and England, and to Constantinople to purchase whatever ancient manuscripts they could find. One of those who went to the old Eastern capital brought back two hundred and thirty-eight, among which were the writings of Plato and Xenophon, who lived in Athens four hundred years before Christ. Lorenzo caused many of the old manuscripts to be copied; and, what was better, he had them printed. For just before Lorenzo's birth, Gutenberg had perfected his printing press; and, three years after Lorenzo was born, the first book printed in Florence had made its appearance. It was an edition of Vergil, the great Latin poet; and very likely Lorenzo used a copy of it when he studied Latin. He lived to see books wonderfully multiplied. By the time he was thirty years old, Vergil and Horace, Homer and Xenophon could be printed so cheaply that they were bought for school boys. Like other merchant princes of the time, Lorenzo established a famous school in Florence. It was a Greek high school. So many learned men graduated from it and became celebrated teachers, that the people said it was like the wooden horse at the siege of Troy, out of which came so many Greek warriors fully armed for the fight. Although Lorenzo was called "The Magnificent" by the people of Florence, and was apparently so generous toward them, yet Florence was not really enriched by him. He only made it grander and more famous by his administration, but he completed that subversion of the Florentine republic for which his father and his grandfather had well prepared the way. Florence, although so splendid, was full of corruption, her rulers violating oaths, betraying trusts, and living only for pleasure. From the days of Lorenzo de Medici her power has steadily declined.

From Famous Men of Modern Times, by John Haaren. This text is in the public domain.

Debt Help

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

On Indians and Cupboards

I read The Indian in the Cupboard over the past week. I've never read it and my son (9) will be reading it this next year. I wanted to tackle some of his books over the summer so I could help him out with it. It was a good read. Some of the themes that I encountered were well written into the storyline. The boy, Omri, matures quite nicely in the context of the story.
I like the way the boy matures. He goes from thinking it would be super cool to turn all his toys into real things to understanding that the living toys are really people, not just animated toys. I also like the way he turns from a kid who throws stuff anywhere to a kid who cleans up. Losing the magic key helped on that one. The developing friendships were also interesting. As Omri matured, his status quo friendship with Patrick had to evolve. This was rough at times, but evolve it did. The friendship that developed between Boone and Little Bear was also fun to see happen. One other thing I liked was how the boys learned that their candy-coated westerns and such did not represent real life for Indians or Cowboys. Even the World War One medic gave them a pretty good lesson in the reality of trench warfare.
Some criticisms though are pertinent. The family structure in the book is awful. It is clear that the kids run the house. They are afraid of their domineering parents who take action when things get too far out of hand, but they do not respect them. Same goes for the authority structure at school and the shop where the boys buy their little plastic figures.
The whole paradigm of alternate universes made me think in terms of the antithesis. The lesson of the book is that no matter who you are or where you come from (time, country, etc.) you can befriend your opposite and even become "blood brothers" with him.
Overall, I think I'll enjoy talking through this with my son.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Integration in Classical Curriculum

As people have spoken to me about classical education and the school at which I teach, to get a better understanding of our approach one of the things that often sets them back is our focus on integration of subjects. Why would we put history and literature in the same category? A glance through our book list for a grade or two will make anyone see immediately what I am referring to. We have third grade students read about the Trojan War and our sixth graders read about Winston Churchill. I thought it might be appropriate to give a brief defense of the integration of subjects such as history, literature, and theology.
Every book is a work of history, literature and theology. Any printed material that you pick up can be mined successfully for all three of these disciplines. Some are going to lean heavily in one area over the others, but they will always say something in each area. All books have a history and are written in a particular time and place. This can affect the position the book takes upon particular events or ideologies. There are American history books written when Richard Nixon was in office but before the Watergate scandal that paint a very different picture of that man than those appearing just a couple of years later. Novels written prior to the 20th century will praise the glory of mankind’s increasingly benevolent spirit; a quality that most readers now don’t have as much trust in.
Every book must be written with a degree of style and structure. This quality of making information readable gives it a place in literature. Is it well organized and well written? Does it have grammatical or structural flaws? Is the argument developed just as carefully as the plot of a good novel would be? These things make any book a work of literature. It does not matter that it is not Oedipus Rex or Pride and Prejudice. Literature has a definite structure and style. A novel, a good novel anyway, will follow a basic pattern in its story. The author will make an introduction of characters and setting. Then the plot will take over as some need or want will motivate the characters. A similar pattern could be duplicated by a theological or philosophical treatise or a study in the Peloponnesian or Vietnam war.
Finally every book, regardless of its audience or content, is a work of theology. Every author has a worldview that governs their relationship to and with the world God has made. A worldview is a combination of elementary assumptions about reality, knowledge, and ethics that governs the way information is processed and acted upon. Every person has a worldview and attempts to live according to it. However, what we will find is that most authors strive for consistency in written works even if they fail in their day-to-day lives. A worldview is a very theological thing. A person’s thoughts about God will ultimately be determined by their presuppositions. Hence, what worldview a person holds will have a direct relationship to how they present information concerning God. Imagine an avowed Atheist writing a science textbook and including a chapter on Creationism. While this author may get facts, numbers, equations, and the basic narrative correct, their presentation of what God did at creation is going to be affected by the fact that they don’t believe in God. A children’s book written by a homosexual will likely present a less-than-true model of marriage or heterosexual realtionships. These examples are extremes and sometimes you have to look pretty hard for the influence of a competing worldview, but it is always there.
So Classical Education integrates these subjects to teach all of these skills and tasks at one time. It is the best way I know of to introduce our students into the real world. After all, no one on the evening news begins their report with “I am a Darwinist and a Socialist, so bear that in mind as I report on the happenings of the day.” And yet, we must be prepared to see that in everything we come in contact with that we might take “every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5).

Friday, June 19, 2009

Orthodoxy and Blasphemy

"[E]very orthodoxy protects its sacred things with blasphemy laws. Because our culture likes to keep up its secularist pretense, we do not use the term othodoxy or blasphemy. But we do have politically correct thought, and we do have laws against hate speech."
Douglas Wilson, A Serrated Edge, 22

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Wishing I could go back to school

I am a student. I have known that about myself for some time. My wife jokes about it, until I start thinking of actually going to school again. I remember when I started going to graduate classes at Clemson. I thought, "Wow, I wish I could have done my B.A. here." Not that I was unhappy with the University of Tennessee in Chattanooga, I just loved being on campus and going to classes. They had a bigger and better library and the sorts of classes were more inspiring than some I had taken for my B.A. But then again, I had changed so much by then that I probably would not have majored in the same subjects as I did for my B.A. Nonetheless, whenever I am on a college campus or visiting a school I wish I could be there as a student. I wish I could learn from the men and women I see teaching young students at Christian and Classical schools I visit. I wish I could be a student in a classroom perpetually. Alas, such is not my fate.
That is a large part of why I teach at a Christian and Classical school and homeschool my own children. I feel very much the failure of modern education in my own life. I cry out with Dr. George Grant, "I've been robbed!"
For those of you who feel you've been robbed of a decent education and have the ability to correct that, I have some suggestions for you. New Saint Andrews college is in Moscow, Idaho and seems to be an offshoot of Logos school there, headed by Douglas Wilson. I've met several folks who have either gone to school there or graduated from NSA and I can attest to the high quality education they get there. It's a place I'd love to do another graduate degree. Another is Gutenberg College in Eugene, Oregon. Gutenberg, like NSA focuses on the Great Books. It is a liberal arts college and I've personally talked to the President at ACCS conferences in the past. I know what they are trying to do there and it is solid. A new recommendation is New College Franklin, otherwise known as Bannockburn Fellowship in Franklin, TN.
Bannockburn has been around for a while but now it is a degree granting, accredited institution. Dr. Geroge Grant began giving homeschool tutorials in Moral Philosophy and Humanities in 1992 and that eventually grew into Franklin Classical School. I don't know this for sure, but from what I've heard, students who wanted more of Dr. Grant's teaching after graduating from high school were allowed, or invited, to stick around for another round of non-accredited Moral Philosophy seminars and tutorials that became known as the Bannockburn Fellowship. King's Meadow Study Center used to have a reading list of the three years of Bannockburn at their website. It was pretty impressive. I wish they'd re post it or something. Nevertheless, eventually Dr. Grant decided to convert the Fellowship into an accredited institution with authority to grant a degree that would be recognized in the state of Tennessee and elsewhere. It took them a long time because the red tape in Tennessee is a mile thick and as long as the state but they were finally able to meet the requirements of the state. The name, New College Franklin was put on the back burner for the accreditation process so the college is operating its inaugural year under the older Bannockburn Fellowship title. Boy, I'd really love to go there and take the classes.
Like many others, I've realized that while my education in Tennessee and South Carolina taught me a lot of stuff, it failed at teaching me how to think about stuff. A Classical education is a little lighter on the stuff, but not much (ask my children who memorized over 500 different things this year [grades 3, 1, and pre-K]). The real goal of a classical education is to instruct in thinking. This is done through a systematic interaction with the languages of creation. Mathematics reveal God's order in creation. Science reveals God's intricate design and precision. History reveals God's providential purpose for mankind and creation as it unfolds across time and space. Literature reveals God's word to mankind, both through the written Scriptures (which alone are absolute truth) and those things men have written under common grace that reflect the truth of God's economy in things. Each of these "subjects" as we often call them are studied for the tools they give us, not necessarily for the information they give. In other words, the tools are the goal, not the information. The information is valuable, but only for the training of the tool. Subjects, taught the right way, give the tools of Grammar, Logic (Dialectic), and Rhetoric. Put another way, students learn what there is to think about in creation, how to think about those things, and then finally how to communicate what they think about those things to others.
With that in mind, I am always seeking and searching for new ways to regain some of that education I missed. I have many people to thank for what little progress I have made. Among them are Douglas Wilson and George Grant. I have listened to more lectures, speeches, and sermons of these two gentlemen than almost any other person, save my own pastor and friend, Carl Robbins. Wilson and Grant both seek to give us ways to "repair the ruins" of our own shattered and mangled education, in part by taking responsibility for our children's education. I realized a while back that my children are going to be smarter than I am. This is not because they will know more stuff (which they probably will in some sense) but because they will be able to think better. My task there is to help them, and pray the Spirit to help them, not become arrogant about this knowledge but to submit it to Christ, as we do all things.
If you are at the stage where college options are open to you and you are looking for something more than just a job that will get you lots of money, you should look into the three schools I have mentioned. There are others I have not mentioned because I know less about them, not because they are inferior institutions. Perhaps they'd like to send me some information or invite me up for a tour (hint, hint). I'd be happy to mention them here if I had more information with which to work.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

No More Gold (1 Kings 14:25-28)

"It happened in the fifth year of King Rehoboam that Shishak king of Egypt came up against Jerusalem. And he took away the treasures of the house of the Lord and the treasures of the king’s house; he took away everything. He also took away all the gold shields which Solomon had made. Then King Rehoboam made bronze shields in their place, and committed them to the hands of the captains of the guard, who guarded the doorway of the king’s house. And whenever the king entered the house of the Lord, the guards carried them, then brought them back into the guardroom." (1 Kings 14:25-28)
I was reading this passage the other day and was struck by a couple of things. It was interesting to me that Rehoboam so desired the image of sovereignty that he had bronze shields made to replace the gold ones that Shishak took away. The heart of the king was not touched by the Lord's wrath upon him for his wickedness. Instead, and this is true of all men, I believe, Rehoboam was undaunted by the clear sign of God's disfavor and sought to continue whatever path he had set for himself with whatever means he still possessed. I've read stories that depict drunks who graduate from fairly affluent lifestyles and high quality liquor to homelessness and whatever cheap whiskey they can find. "No one seems to be around, Just this monkey that I've found...And tonight he grins again"
However, there is another way of seeing this passage of Scripture. It isn't one I'm used to finding, but this time it kind of struck me. Perhaps Rehoboam is still trying to honor the Lord with whatever the Lord has left him. "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" Perhaps Rehoboam is here trying to make sure the Lord's name is held in high regard and the mystery of His presence is still honored even when Judah is under His judgment.
But then why would the shields only be used when Rehoboam entered the Lord's house? It seems, that while I'd like to give Rehoboam the benefit of the doubt, the text doesn't give much room there.
Don't be like Rehoboam. Don't make bronze shields when the Lord takes away the golden ones. Fall down in repentance and plead the Lord's mercy that He might return the golden shields.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Hapy Birthday Tetris









Tetris was released today in 1984. I'm not sure how significant the year is. You may consult Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death to determine this. Nevertheless, today marks the day that millions upon millions of people became addicted to the little blocks falling upon each other.

On iTunes

Andy McKee
The Gates of Gnomeria









Michael Halaas
The Lucidity Project

Monday, June 1, 2009

Ron Paul on Homeschooling

Ron Paul gave the commencement address to a group of 14 homeschooled students recently. A nice write-up about it and what Ron Paul said about homeschooling can be found at "The Facts." Essentially, Paul reiterated the reason thinking homeschoolers homeschool, because they are passionate about their children and know that they are the ones in charge, not the state.
“It’s very important we encourage home-schooling and make sure it’s always legal, and our governments never decide they know best,” Paul said. “Too often, our government would like to be the parent. Home-schoolers know exactly who’s responsible for education, and that’s the parent.”

A big thanks to Representative Paul for taking the hard stand, as he usually does, on what matters.

Ideas Have Consequences

"It will not suffice to point out the inventions and processes of our century unless it can be shown that they are something other than a splendid efflorescence of decay" (12)

"The whole tendency of modern thought, one might say its whole moral impulse, is to keep the individual busy with endless induction." (12)

"The unexpressed assumption of empiricism is that experience will tell us what we are experiencing." (13)

"A great material establishment, by its very temptation to luxuriousness, unfits the owner for the labor necessary to maintain it, as has been observed countless times in the histories and of nations." (15)

"Civilization has been an intermittent phenomenon; to this truth we have allowed ourselves to be blinded by the insolence of material success." (17)

Friday, May 29, 2009

Happy Birthday G.K. Chesterton

Gilbert Keith Chesterton, author of Orthodoxy, What's Wrong With The World, the Father Brown Mysteries, and many other well-known books, was born on this day (May 29) in the year 1874. His writing continues to be influential to many readers around the world. If you have not been exposed to his writing, check out the American Chesterton Society (on the sidebar) and read a little about this literary giant.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

This Day in History-The Beginning of Philosophy

Today, May 28 is one of the beginning dates offered for the beginnings of philosophy in Ancient Greece. The reason is quite simple really. A solar eclipse happened, as predicted by Thales of Miletus on this day in 586 BC. This solar eclipse happened to lead to truce between the Lydians and the Medes, a truce that would be in effect until Croesus of Lydia was conquered by Cyrus the Great of Persia in 546 BC. But that is another story.
Why would a solar eclipse begin philosophy? Because under the paradigm of Greek mythology, the religion of the Greeks, he should not have been able to do it. Under Greek mythology every event takes place because of the gods. Consider the cause of the plague in Homer's Iliad that is distressing the Greeks as the epic opens. "Apollo, who in anger at the king drove the foul pestilence along the host, and the people perished, since Atreus' son had dishonoured Chryses, priest of Apollo" (Il. i.9-11). Typically, as in Homer, events have an immediate course in the wrath of the gods. Thales usurps the possibility of the gods by predicting something. Prediction implies one of two things for the Greek worldview. Either the gods to not exist or Thales is a prophet with the mind of the gods.
This involves just a just brief foray into causality. In human experience (shut up Hume), causes always precede events. In Greek mythology, all events had supernatural causes with immediate causes. By predicting an event, Thales called into question the immediate supernatural causes of this event, and thus all events. If Thales can predict the effect, the cause is known or knowable. But Greek mythology held that the causes of storms, plagues, even the seasons are known only to the gods. The consequences of Thales prediction are obvious. Either the gods did not really control events like the eclipse Thales predicted or they planned the event do far beforehand that Thales was able to deduce it or discover it. But either of these negates the traditional understanding of causality according to the worldview of the Greek mind.
Thus Thales, by using reason and science, began philosophy by predicting an event that the gods did not cause.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Grotesque in Fiction

In the greatest fiction, the writer's moral sense coincides with his dramatic sense, and I see no way for it to do this unless his moral judgment is part of the very act of seeing, and he is free to use it. I have heard it said that belief in Christian dogma is a hindrance to the writer, but I myself have found nothing further from the truth. Actually, it frees the storyteller to observe. It is not a set of rules which fixes what he sees in the world. It affects his writing primarily by guaranteeing his respect for mystery.
In the introduction to a collection of his stories called Rotting Hill, Wyndham Lewis has written, "If I write about a hill what is rotting, it is because I despise rot." The general accusation passed against writers now is that they write about rot because they love it. Some do, and their works may betray them, but it is impossible not to believe that some write about rot because they see it for what it is.
Flannery O'Connor, "The Fiction Writer & His Country" in Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose, 31.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Trouble with Socialism

"The trouble with Socialism is that you eventually run out of other people's money."
Margaret Thatcher, former British Prime Minister.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

On This Day in History

On May 16, 1532 Sir Thomas More resigned as Lord Chancellor of England. This was done because he could not condone either the divorce of King Henry VIII from Catherine or the marriage of Henry to Anny Boleyn.
Thomas More (1478 - 1535) was the leading anti-Protestant in England at the time of the Reformation. More spoke vehemently against Luther and his views. He held a number of offices in English politics as he worked his way up to being Lord Chancellor.
In 1530, however, he had refused to sign a letter asking the Papacy for an annulment of the marriage of Henry to Catherine. This put a serious wedge between the monarchy and More. The decision of the monarchy to terminate the Roman Catholic Church and institute the Church of England with the king as the head did not sit well with More. Whereupon, in 1531 he refused to take an oath demonstrating loyalty to the king as the Head of the Church of England.
In 1532, following several attempts, More was finally allowed to resign when it became clear that no reunion between the King and More was going to take place. The next year when More refused to attend the coronation of Anne Boleyn as the Queen of England, Henry had More arrested on charges of accepting bribes and high treason, although no evidence existed for either crime.
In 1534 More appeared before a parliamentary commission and accepted that Parliament had the right to declare Anne the legitimate queen of England but refused to swear an oath himself to that effect. More's problem was not with the Act of Succession, but with the language in it that declared the Parliament had more right that the Pope to legislate in matters of religion.
More was imprisoned in the Tower of London. In 1535 he was brought to trial for denying the validity of the Act of Succession, which he did not do. More maintained he could not be convicted of denial of the Act if he did not actually deny the Act. He refused to answer questions related to the King's authority as Head of the Church or any of his opinions on the subject.
Nevertheless, the jury convicted him of the crime of high treason based on testimony of other witnesses. More was executed on July 6, 1535 by decapitation.
More was canonized by the Roman Catholic Church in 1886.
A fantastic film version of his life and trial exists in the adaption of A Man for All Seasons.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Wisdom from Chesterton

Many clever men like you have trusted in civilization. Many clever Babylonians, many clever Egyptians, many clever men at the end of Rome. Can you tell me, in a world that is flagrant with the failures of civilization, what there is particularly immortal about yours?
The Napoleon of Notting Hill

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

This Day in History

While every one else is blogging about Cinco de Mayo, I am going to write about another event that had greater ramifications but led to fewer parties and less drunkenness.
On this day, May 5, in 1640, Charles I dissolved the Short Parliament. This event has been claimed as the fuse of the English Civil War. Charles had learned from his father, James I, that kings owed their position to God. So far so good (as per Rom. 13:1-7). But James also taught his son that he was above the law and could do anything he wanted to because he owed nothing to the people. Problem! Charles repeatedly tried to rule without respect to the people of England, even though Magna Carta required certain powers be reserved for the people (represented in Parliament). When his foreign wars began costing more money than he actually had, he was forced to call Parliament into session. Only Parliament could authorize monies for war and soldier's wages.
When Parliament came into session on April 17, they refused to conduct any business until Charles recognized the authority of the people in government. After only three weeks, Charles dissolved the body and attempted to raise the money to fight his Scottish war alone. Charles was able to hold out until November of 1640 when lack of funds forced him to recall Parliament. This Parliament session lasted until 1649 and saw the outbreak of the English Civil War.
Royalists and Puritans fought each other over basic principles of government. Was the monarchy totalitarian or did it derive its power from the consent of the people? Charles fled before the Puritan Parliament and gathered his own forces. Oliver Cromwell rose as the leader of the Puritan forces and eventually Charles was captured, tried for treason against the state, and beheaded.
Issues such as religious freedom also entered the picture. Charles had appointed William Laud as Archbishop and Laud wanted to force the Anglican liturgy and form of worship on Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and others. In the period following Charles death, Parliament called together a diverse group of religious leaders, called divines, and charged them with drafting a confessional statement for the Protestant churches in England that all could assent to. The result, in 1648, was the Westminster Confession of Faith and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms.
So while I have nothing against beer and margaritas, I prefer to raise a glass in honor of the Short Parliament and the men who stood firm in their resolve against tyranny today.

Monday, May 4, 2009

How to Change a Culture

The other night my wife and I were flipping through channels in hopeless attempt to find something to watch. For one thing, we don't have cable, by design. We have decided that we already watch too much television with only the over-the-air broadcast channels we receive. For another thing, we can't justify spending the money. But the first reason is more important.
Nonetheless, we were flipping the channels and lighted upon NBC for a few moments. I could tell it was one of the incarnations of Law and Order. I have enjoyed some of these, especially the way they take a story currently in the news and twist it a little to make a fictional story. However, what I saw that night was nothing to be amused about.
The version I caught was SVU (Special Victims Unit). I rarely like these because of their attention to children and sexual crimes. I didn't like this one either, but for different reasons. I caught the story most of the way through, but I got the gist of it pretty quickly. A child had died and the evidence had led the investigators to a mother whose own child was known to play at the same public park as the victim. What happened next left me dumbfounded. The woman was arrested for murder because she had refused to vaccinate her own child and that child had spread a mild disease to the victim.
I actually didn't even finish the episode. I had seen everything I needed to see in those few moments. The characters provided the commentary that was necessary to change or establish public opinion on the issue at stake.
The people who make Law and Order and most of the other shows like it are at the forefront of culture change in our day. They are the George Eliot's of today, making it seem reasonable to think in ways that are actually quite contrary to biblical attitudes. Eliot, as I've posted here before, used the subtlety of her novel to slowly change attitudes toward aristocracy and wealth. Law and Order and the shows like them do the same thing for sexual preference, socialism, abortion, and the whole host of social actions in the news today.
The longer we watch shows like this without questioning them and their assumptions, the easier we make it to change the very foundations of our culture. The people who make these shows know this. This is the big game now. We are having our attitudes of culture and society changed around us without our even knowing it. These new thoughts are presented as matters of justice and common sense. Only really uptight and bigoted folks would reject the premises presented by the show. Only prudes would maintain sexual purity in the modern world. Only over-protective religious freaks would homeschool their children in the modern world (also seen lambasted in a Law and Order show).
This is the world we inherit if we watch carelessly and without thinking.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Antigone

Last night I had the unique opportunity to see a production of Antigone. Some friends told me they had a spare ticket and asked if I'd like to go. I met them at Bob Jones University's Performance Hall and we chatted a while before they opened the doors. When we got in we were given programs which informed us that it was not Sophocles' Antigone we were watching, but one written by Jean Anouilh.
Anouilh was a French playwright who lived from 1910 to 1987. He was largely unsuccessful as a playwright until 1942 when he wrote his version of Antigone. It was first performed on February 6, 1944, during the Nazi occupation of Paris. As the ancient work of the same title, Anouilh's Antigone addressed issues such as state control and the citizen's responsibility to obey.
To get it past the Nazi sensors, the play pictures a very different Creon from Sophocles. The message that men have the responsibility to obey God rather than men is less central. Creon appears less like a tyrant and more like a man trying to hold together a bad situation in the midst of modernity. Antigone begins with a carefully worked out righteousness that crumbles into something like whining and a simple dogged resolution that she was already right and no new information can alter her own opinion.
The play is very similar to Sophocles' original and does little damage to the well-known story line. Anouilh made some modern alterations, but managed to keep the Chorus who solemnly proclaim at one point that they know how things will end up because it is their "job to know."
I was enthralled. I watched eagerly as the events I knew took form and played themselves out on stage. I have not fully processed the message of the play and want to get my hands on the text to read it.
The production itself was fantastic and I was glad I went.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

A Kingdom Divided

I've thought about Jesus' proclamation in Matt. 12:25 and Luke 11:17 several times and been troubled by it. I am not sure I get the logic of it. Perhaps I am too modern for my own good, but in the age of James Bond and Jack Bauer, it seems perfectly reasonable to me that Satan might place a double agent on Earth to influence some people by casting out a few demons.
But then I have Jesus saying that it is impossible. A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. It is in my Bible, therefore it is true.
Which leads me to question the issue from a different perspective. The inevitable result of a divided kingdom, in this case one demon casting out other demons, is destruction. If that is true, what does it say about our world in modernity? We have used secret agents and double agents for most of modernity.
In reading Greenmantle with my Humanities class, I have been forced to reevaluate this issue again. The main character in the novel is a secret agent sent behind enemy lines to discover some secret plot to generate a jihad among Muslim Turks during the Great War. The narrative borrows much from typical British "Great Game" language and the terms and phrases are used often.
If we use agents and spies and such, are we doomed to destruction? What real benefit have they given us? Is the use of such tactics in peacetime and warfare a foray into national violations of the 9th commandment.
I still have much to consider here.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Star Trek

I have the feeling that nostalgia is going to get the best of me...again. I am planning on going to see the new Star Trek movie when it comes out. I have hopes for it, but they are mediated by similar situations in recent years. I am a little excited and very concerned to see what J.J. Abrams will do with Star Trek. I liked Alias for a little while, then it got weird and imploded. We didn't even bother watching the last season or two. I am still watching Lost, but know that it has gotten past the possibility of making sense. I want to see what he does with it, not much more.
He has a habit of beginning something on a really clever idea and then letting it roll. I get no indication that he knows where his plots need to end up. I am hoping he can do better with a simple 2 hour timeframe, but we'll see.
The other thing that concerns me is his very postmodern worldview. I have seen it writ large on both Alias and Lost, very Matrix-esque with lots of symbolism borrowed or stolen from other contexts, and am a little concerned about how it will affect something as modernist as Star Trek. I watched Quantum of Solace recently and was amazed at how postmodern Bond has become. Gone are the modernist toys of Q as well as other basic Bond standbys. It was eerie to watch it.
I half-expect the new Star Trek to be this way as well, to some extent. It is sci-fi after all, a typically modernist genre anyway.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Teaching children to speak boldly

I was in a teacher interview today and was reminded about the importance of teaching our children to speak boldly. That means, for practical example, not looking down when you speak, speaking in a strong, clear voice, and meaning what you say. This is of great importance in our schools and homeschools because we, of all people, have something to say. When we speak, we are to speak the truth. The truth should not be spoken apologetically, but loudly. We should not worry whether our speech will bring ridicule upon us, but should expect this. Since we are speaking the truth, we should be clear and bold in our proclamation.
I reapplied this immediately in family worship tonight, requiring my children to answer their catechism questions with clear, bold answers. I also required them to use their voices to praise God in song this way.
I had basically forgotten this principle until speaking with this teacher candidate who was very precise on this point in her own speaking. I have had a vague notion that I didn't like my children or students speaking like wimps, but couldn't put my finger on a principle to correct it. Now I have remembered the principle.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

On iTunes recently













Morgan Doctor - Other Life (esp. Silver City)













H.U.V.A. Network - Ephemeris (esp. Something Heavens)

Monday, April 13, 2009

Socialism in Silas Marner

While reading Silas Marner with my students, I have been struck by the very subtle leanings of its author, George Eliot (aka, Mary Ann Evans). The Darwinism and anti-religious statements were expected, but somehow I missed that Evans (Eliot) had been influenced by Marx as well.
Eliot published Silas Marner in 1861, a good thirteen years after Marx and Engels hit the bookshelves with The Communist Manifesto. I had been reading various statements about class without very little recognition of what Eliot was subtly trying to suggest. Then, all of a sudden, she came out and said it.
...there's never a garden in all the parish but what there's endless waste in it for want o' somebody as could use everything up. It's what I think to myself sometimes, as there need nobody run short o' victuals if the land was made the most on, and there was never a morsel but what could find its way to a mouth. It sets one thinking o' that—gardening does.
Aaron's comment on the possibility of finding pretty much anything Eppie wants for her new garden betrays Eliot's thinking about the haves and have nots of England in the nineteenth century. If only those who have so much would give to those who have very little, there would surely be plenty to go around.
The socialism is subtle, and undeveloped, which actually makes it more dangerous. If Eliot threw it out there very obviously, the novel might be dismissed as extremist ranting. However, if Eliot simply subtly suggests the ideas and lets them develop in the mind of her reader, then eventually the fruit will come. Socialism won't look so bad once we think about how nice it would be if everyone could eat all they wanted.
No one initiating something as dangerous as Socialism goes around talking about the bad parts of the plan. That would be dumb. They use the strategy of Eliot and suggest what might be better if things were done just a little differently. Who could argue against wasted fruits and vegetables, after all?
Remember this the next time our leaders suggest Smart Meters so that everyone will have enough electricity to heat them and keep them cool.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The End of the War

Henry V invaded France in 1415, taking advantage of the volatile state of the French monarchy. The civil strife between the duke of Burgundy and the duke of Valois had sunk France into anarchy and left the question of national defense a real issue. Henry’s invasion was fast and deliberate. He captured much of Normandy and moved with great speed throughout France. However, he soon found himself low on supplies and cornered near the village of Agincourt. The French army engaged him there, and in a terrific battle, Henry emerged victorious with the French army in ruins. Henry followed up this victory by ransacking much of northern France and demanding peace with Charles VI.
The resulting peace treaty, the Treaty of Troyes (1420) disinherited the dauphin, Charles VII, from the throne and arranged the marriage of Henry V to Charles VI’s daughter Catherine. This effectively made Henry V the ruler of France. Because not all of the French nobles recognized Henry’s claim to the throne, he continues military campaigns in France until he died in 1422. Henry VI was immediately crowned king of France. Charles VI died the same year.
By 1428 the English were fighting in France again. The siege of Orléans began in that year but was not able to fully take the city. It is at this point that the events of the Hundred Years’ War become popular. In 1429 a peasant girl from Domrémy convinced the dauphin that God had sent her visions of French victory if she led the forces against the English. For some reason he allowed this to take place and her presence was, in fact, able to break the siege of Orleans and begin a surge of French military victories that opened Rheims and Paris again to the French. The dauphin was crowned Charles VII in Oct. 1422 amid great fanfare.
Joan was captured by the Burgundians, who were not happy at the resurgence of French monarchial power, and sold to the English in 1430. Joan was tried for heresy and condemned to be burned at the stake. She was an extremely popular figure in France and continued to be so after the war was over. In 1920 she was canonized as an official saint in the Roman Catholic Church. Nevertheless, at the time she was viewed as a heretic by most officials in the church. How much this has to do with her execution, as opposed to her surprising victories in turning the French tide of the war against the English, remains a matter of historical debate. All we can say is that Joan rallied the French to victory and changed the course of the war.
Not long after Joan was captured, the Burgundians made a separate peace with and returned to the French side of the war. This allowed a more unified defense of France from this point forward. From 1435 to the end of the war in 1453, France was able to mount sure resistance and recovered town after town that had been in English hands.
When the war was finally over, the English had lost nearly all of their holdings in France. When the final battle was fought at Castillon in 1453, the roles were decidedly reversed. The French fought a calm and deliberate battle, whereas the English were frantic and foolish in their maneuvering. When the dust settled nothing remained of the English territory in France but the city of Calais and an empty claim to the throne of France.
The significance of the war is more important than its actual course and battles. The Hundred Years’ War was an experiment in evolution. Military tactics, traditional understandings about chivalry and its place on the battlefield, politics and popular conceptions of monarchy and nobility all came under fire during the course of this 116 year conflict. In many ways it signals the final collapse of the medieval world and bridges the gap to the developments of the next century. Like a wave breaking on the shore, the medieval world collapsed under the pressure of its own weight and the Hundred Years’ War is the greatest effect that collapse has to present.
During the 1420’s and 1430’s Prince Henry began making annual voyages into the Atlantic Ocean that would change the shape of the world drastically. Less than fifty years after the war ended Christopher Columbus had landed on the Caribbean Islands of North America. Within a hundred years the Renaissance and the Reformation were sweeping across Europe. The medieval world gasped for life during the Hundred Years’ War and eventually gave up its spirit to renewal and reformation of its cardinal beliefs.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Conduct and Course of the Hundred Years' War (1337 - 1360)

Once underway, the Hundred Years’ War was conducted in a series of phases that were often interrupted by truce or other reason to stop hostilities. Edward III made the first strike, hoping to secure the Flemish lands. He invaded the region of Flanders with a naval campaign that shocked contemporaries, not because of the amount of ships he used, but at the way he won the battle. Jean Froissart records that upon reaching Sluys, Edward saw “such a huge number of ships that their masts resembled a forest.” Edward redeployed his ships so that his archers could have the greatest effect. The French had no experience with the relatively new innovation of English archery: the longbow. Standing about six feet tall and boasting arrows of three feet in length, the longbow could shoot accurately up to 200 yards, which was more powerful even than the crossbow. The English decimated the French in the fight and took the port of Sluys easily. This impressive first victory led to a truce in 1342. The English held the port of Sluys and had a decent foothold in Flanders.
The truce of 1342 was broken in 1345 by the French and the English prepared to fight again. This second phase lasted only a year but created havoc among the French. The English landed at Normandy and began a long march down the Seine toward Paris. Philip VI had been stung, but not defeated when he lost Flanders. He gathered a large force of men and followed the English army at a safe distance until they could find a place to fight. In the course of events, they were brought to the town of Crećy in August of 1346. Unfortunately for the French, the English got the better ground in the battle. The English chose the higher ground and simply waited for the French to begin the assault. When they did, it was an absolute slaughter. At the end of the battle more than 4,000 French knights lay dead. The English chose to capitalize on their victory by laying siege to the port city of Calais, the closest point between England and France. It took the English almost a year to subdue Calais, but when they did in 1347 a truce was forced. The truce lasted five years, and held off hostilities during the period of the Black Death in Europe.
After the Black Death abated, both English and French were still willing to fight. The truce signed in 1347 expired in 1351 with no continuance. When it did, two English armies were ready to move on French lands. They were held up only by Pope Innocent VI who desperately wanted to stop the fighting in Europe. When the treaty designed by the Pope fell through the Prince of Wales, known to history as the Black Prince, sailed to Bordeaux in 1355 and was ready to make war. Edward III was already prepared to cross the English Channel and fight in Normandy.
In 1350 Philip VI had died and had been succeeded by his son Jean II. Jean had alienated many of his nobles in the first year of his reign and could not count on them for support as much as he needed. In light of this, it is easier to understand how the Black Prince ravaged Aquitaine and other areas of France for the better part of a year. Known by the French as “the proudest man ever born of woman,” he raided towns, murdered peasants, and burned mills over a 250 mile stretch of French countryside. The fascinating thing is that the French nobility in the region did little to stop this disaster.
In 1355 Edward III was able to make his crossing, although he had to settle for the port of Calais rather than Normandy. Hoping to bring the coastal region of Brittany under his control, Edward fought his way south into France. As he did so, followed by a French army, it became clear that a major battle was at hand. When Edward and the Black Prince met and joined near Poitiers, the result was inevitable. The Battle of Poitiers remains one of the greatest losses the French have ever seen on their own soil. In the aftermath, not only was the King himself captured, but also “one fighting arch-bishop, 13 counts, 5 viscounts, 21 barons and bannerets, and some 2,000 knights, squires, and men-at-arms of the gentry.” The result was a France without a king and without a great part of its noble class.
King Jean II was eventually ransomed, after a third estate uprising known as the Jacquerie, for the price of three million écus , as well as complete cession of Aquitaine and Calais to English control. Jean II returned to France and the war stopped. Edward rescinded his claim to the throne of France.
However, after Jean II died in 1364 and Charles V ascended the throne, the war began to take shape once again. Charles was very unhappy about the settlement and began strategically retaking English possession in France and in 1369 declared the Treaty of Bretigny to have been broken by the English. Between 1369 and 1389 the English tried to reassert control over territory ceded to them by Bretigny and establish control over Brittany. The main battle of the period, the Battle of Auray ended well for the English but had no lasting effects. The dukes of Brittany reconciled with the French crown and in the course of the period Edward III, the Black Prince, and many of England’s best generals died. By 1389, the war had wound down to a stalemate and another truce was called. This truce lasted until 1415, but hardly meant a peaceful condition for either France or England. The medieval world continued to unravel around the great conflict.
England faced revolts from Scotland and Ireland under the brief reign of Henry IV (1399-1413) and was unable to make any serious moves in France. The reign of Henry IV is featured in two plays by Shakespeare (Henry IV Part One and Two) and mentioned in Richard II. Shakespeare characterized Henry’s reign as one of constant defense from plots, assassination attempts and rebellions. While Shakespeare obviously dramatizes the situation for his audience, this was not far from the truth. Henry IV was succeeded in 1413 by Henry V who was finally able to resume tactics in France.
France also faced internal problems. With the death of Charles V, his twelve-year old son became Charles VI and ruled from 1380 until 1422. However, very early in his reign madness was detected and the regency was assumed by the duke of Burgundy creating a civil war in France between the Burgundians and the Valois. The feud brought anarchy to France and led to the invasion by Henry V in 1415 AD that began the final and most harrowing portion of the war.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

The Gibeonite Famine (2 Samuel 21:1-14)

A three year famine hit Israel shortly after the revolt of Absalom had been finished. David did some asking and learned from God that this famine was the result of a broken covenant with the Gibeonites. Saul had apparently slaughtered many of them and now God was taking vengeance on the perpetrators of the crime, Israel. Now, to understand how odd this is, we must remember who the Gibeonites were. Back in Joshua 9, shortly after the fall of Jericho and Ai, many of the Canaanites decided to amass a great army and stand against Israel. The Gibeonites decided upon a different strategy. They dressed in ragged clothing, took old, moldy bread, and worn-out waterskins and approached the camp of Joshua. They claimed to be from a far-off land and were seeking the protection of such a mighty army as Israel. They fooled Joshua and the elders of Israel into making an everlasting covenant with them.
The ruse didn't last forever. Eventually Joshua and the Israelites realized they'd been had. They had made a poor decision and now had to live with the consequences, however bad they might be. After all, Psalm 15 tells us it is the mark of a godly man to be constant even when we have sworn to our own hurt. And these might be terrible consequences. God had given strict instructions to not leave any of the Canaanites alive. The children of Israel were to make no covenant with any of the peoples in the land. And here, Joshua had done just that.
So, did the fact that Joshua had been deceived by the Gibeonites invalidate the covenant made with them? No! This sounds strange to our ears, but it is true. The people of Israel were quite upset about this as well. They complained to Joshua and the elders of Israel. But the elders replied, "We have sworn to them by the Lord God of Israel; now therefore, we may not touch them. This we will do to them: We will let them live, lest wrath be upon us because of the oath which we swore to them(Josh. 9:19-20). They did have some recourse to alter the relationship between Israel and the Gibeonites, and this they did. They decreed that Gibeonites would be woodworkers. Be this as it may, they honored their covenant with the Gibeonites.
That is, until Saul came along. Saul did not honor the covenant with the Gibeonites and the entire land paid dearly for it. Even after Saul was dead, the stench of the broken covenant made God nauseous. He sent a famine among His own people to remind them how injurious it was to break a covenant oath. David learned of the details and made things right with the Gibeonites. The author of Samuel says that he entreated the Gibeonites, "What shall I do for you? And with what shall I make atonement, that you may bless the inheritance of the Lord?" (2 Sam. 21:3) David wrote the Gibeonites a blank check. He made it clear that having the Gibeonites affirm the Lord's covenant and know the Israelites to be covenant keepers was of more importance to him than gold, silver, or any other precious thing.
We should learn much from David in this event. If we make a covenant, we must keep it. This is the way the Lord works on our behalf and it is the way we must work with others.

Background and Causes of the Hundred Years' War

Historian Barbara Tuchman has claimed that the fourteenth century was “calamitous,” by which she means that great calamity attended the years 1300 AD to 1450 AD. Of course, it is not so neat as that, but in general it is true that the world changed dramatically in that century. We have already witnessed one major aspect of that change: the Black Death. In the five years of the plague’s major activity, it wiped out more than 70 million people, roughly one-third of Europe’s population. The plague was not over in 1351. It returned from time to time, although with less disastrous effects. Another major event of Tuchman’s calamitous fourteenth century is the Hundred Years’ War.
The Hundred Years’ War was a massive conflict that began in 1337. It mostly involved the countries of England and France, but the region of Flanders was involved somewhat as well. With some respite while under various truces, France and England fought for 116 years, until 1453. The causes of the Hundred Year’s war are varied and form a major plank in understanding what would bring these two countries to fight for such a long period of time. In order to fully understand the causes, the background should be reviewed.
The French had long been concerned with the English feudal holdings in Aquitaine. For two hundred years French kings had been seeking ways to remove the English presence there. Since the days of King John Aquitaine had slowly been reduced in size and would never reach the expanse it had under the Angevin Empire (except during rare moments of the coming conflict). The French also permitted the subjects of Aquitaine to bring any complaints against their lord directly to the French crown. This was a violation of the English lord’s rights in practice, but one which the French subjects repeatedly took advantage of. It was a constant source of friction between the English and the French and had conflict written all over it.
Another major piece of background information is the Babylonian Captivity of the Church. The relationship between papacy and monarchy had always been difficult as events like the Investiture controversy proved. The issue of church and state was a constant, some would say defining, problem during the Middle Ages. The period surrounding the Hundred Years’ War stands as the high point of the medieval world. Under the weight of so many conflicting relationships, the medieval world began to collapse in on itself and the Babylonian Captivity of the Church was but one effect of that collapse.
One of the defining struggles leading up to the Babylonian Captivity was the right to tax clergy members. Traditionally, the clergy were exempt from all local and state taxes. This did not mean they were not taxed; they were not taxed by secular authorities. Clergy were taxed by their superiors. Priests paid taxes (a portion of the tithe) to bishops, who paid taxes to arch-bishops, and so on until the papacy received its portion of ecclesiastical revenues. This system was so standardized that parishes and bishoprics were said to allow a certain income to the priest or bishop who oversaw it. Nonetheless, Philip IV wanted a share of the clerical coffers and insisted he had a right to it. This insistence prompted the Papal Bull called Clericis Laicos. This important letter, issued in 1296 AD proclaimed that no clergy “pay nothing under pretext of any obligation” to secular authorities.
Philip was not happy and the typical game of excommunication and force ensued. With such an unrepentant king on his hands, Boniface VIII issued another Papal Bull that made the most sweeping statement of any regarding papal authority. The Bull of Unam Sanctum claimed “it is absolutely necessary for salvation that every human creature be subject to the Roman Pontiff.” Te die had been cast. Even as Boniface prepared to excommunicate Philip IV, Philip prepared a physical response to the bull. Philip kidnapped Boniface and held him for three days at a castle in Anagni near Rome. Though he was released, the event had traumatic consequences for Boniface, who died about a month later.
Philip then saw to the election of a new pope who was French. Clement V mot only became, as most historians and theologians have viewed him, a puppet pope for the French king, but also moved the center of papal authority from Rome to the French city of Avignon. Six popes ruled the papacy from Avignon in France for about seventy years. This period has been called the Babylonian Captivity of the Church for a number of reasons. The humanist Petrarch (see chapter twenty-six) once called Avignon the “Babylon of the West.” Every office and permission for any crime or sin was able to be bought and sold in Avignon. The corruption already present in the papacy and the Roman Catholic Church took on heinous dimensions that were immortalized in works like Dante Aligheri’s Divine Comedy. Tuchman describes the general corruption of the church. “When bishops purchased benefices at the price of year’s income, they passed the cost down, so that corruption spread through the hierarchy from canons and priors to priesthood and cloistered clergy, down to mendicant friars and pardoners. It was at this level that the common people met the materialism of the Church, and none were more crass than the sellers of pardons.”
All of this was apparently done to satisfy the French kings lust for power and wealth. The Babylonian Captivity eroded, to a great extent, the last real power that the Roman Catholic Church possessed in Europe. As the years waned on, reformers became more and more numerous, facing the corruption of the papacy with doctrinal and practical changes. Within two hundred years Martin Luther would set the final nail in the coffin of the strangle hold Roman Catholicism had on the European mind.
A final piece of background information necessary to understand the causes of the Hundred Years’ War is the obliteration of the Knights Templar. The Knights Templar had been formed as a multi-national organization for knights to participate in the crusades. After the crusading period they found themselves in possession of a great deal of wealth. This attracted the eyes of Philip IV of France. Using his puppet pope, Clement V, Philip had the Knights arraigned on charges of devil-worship, witchcraft and sorcery and other heretical beliefs and practices. The papacy confiscated all property and wealth and gave it to a rival organization, the Hospitallars of St. John, who very soon gave a large donation to Philip IV of France.
A final piece of background information review is the unique place that chivalry had in medieval society. Chivalry, as we have discussed, was an ideal that wedded Germanic warrior customs, Roman legal customs, and Christian ethics and morality into a complicated framework of behavior and duty for the medieval knight. We have already seen how the code of chivalry has developed from a mere attitude between two knights to a more complicated system of courtly love and romance. Chivalry deserves a place in the background of the Hundred Years’ War because it was the knights that fought the conflict. Their behavior, as captured by chroniclers like Jean Froissart, shows the darker side of chivalry that the external coverings of Christian morality over a diseased heart can never totally hide. Knights who were not converted men with their hope and trust in Christ could be fiendishly evil and perpetrators of inhuman suffering. Many knights in Europe were itching for a fight. They loved to perform at tournaments and gain popularity. The crusades had siphoned off some of this spirit, but they had been over now for a hundred years. Chivalry, at this time, meant that there were warriors who wanted a war.
With this background information in place, it is time to consider the causes of the Hundred Years’ War, that crowning event of the High Middle Ages that signaled the end of the medieval way of life. There are generally four causes of the Hundred Years’ War given by historical accounts. They come in no particular order, but some are weightier than others.
The first cause is typically listed as the English claims in Aquitaine. This contest mentioned earlier fueled a great conflict of interest that was bound to boil over eventually. The second cause is Anglo-Frankish competition over the region of Flanders. Flanders, on the northern border of France and sharing the English Channel was strategically located both for military matters and economic matters. The third cause is the very aspects of chivalry we have just mentioned. The fourth, and possibly most direct cause of the Hundred Years’ War, has to do with the succession to the French throne in 1328.
In 1328 Charles IV died without a male heir. He had three possible claimants to the throne. Philip IV’s daughter had married the king of England and their son, Edward III, had a possible claim to the throne. The other two claimants were sons of a brother and half-brother of the deceased king. Philip of Valois was the favored candidate and Philip of Evreux was unlikely to gain recognition. The dispute over the crown seemed settled on Philip of Valois until the control of Flanders came into question. Edward III used the dispute over the French crown to justify a full-scale invasion and the Hundred Years’ War began in 1337 AD.