When I arrived at CHC one of the first things I did was to start a faculty reading group. We meet early in the morning before work on Wednesdays. We drink coffee together and discuss great books. Currently we are reading Simone Weil’s Waiting for God, one of the spiritual classics of the 20th century. Simone Weil was a brilliant French philosopher who, almost against her will, became convinced of the reality of God. She had memorised George Herbert’s poem “Love III”, and one day while reciting the poem, as she later reported, “Christ himself came down and took possession of me.” Although she never became a Christian in any conventional sense, Simone Weil spent the rest of her short life trying to figure out how to respond to Christ. She was relentless in her pursuit of a Christlike way of life. She believed that, above all, Christ calls us to live attentively. How do we train ourselves in the art of attention? One of the best ways, according to Weil, is through study. Whenever we come across a difficult passage in a book that we are reading, we are immediately faced with two possibilities. We can skim over the difficulty and look for something easy and familiar to latch on to. Or we can linger over the difficulty. We can pause to ask ourselves: why is this passage difficult? What is blocking my understanding? What does this difficulty reveal about me? When we pay attention to difficulties, we begin to learn. We learn about ourselves. We become aware of our blind-spots, our mental habits, our assumptions and limitations. This is true of the Bible as well. It is possible to read the Bible regularly without ever really being challenged by its difficult claims and demands. It is possible to read the Bible in a way that only reinforces our prior prejudices and assumptions. We often come away from the Bible feeling encouraged and consoled. But as Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, we need to read the Bible “against ourselves”, not just “for ourselves”. We should be searching for the mind of Christ, not just for a reflection of our own thoughts and desires. That is the advantage of reading books in company with other people. When I read by myself I can easily hurry past the difficulties. But when I read and discuss a book with others, I quickly find that my own assumptions are called into question. The book begins to open itself to me in a new way. It challenges me. It does not want me to remain as I am. This is why reading groups are so good for the soul. And it is why our classes at the Millis Institute are all based on the habits of close reading, patient listening, and rigorous truth-telling. We pay attention to the books we are reading. We pay attention to one another. We pay attention to ourselves. We listen well in order to speak well. We read carefully in order to become rigorous truth-tellers – even if at times that will mean telling the truth “against ourselves”. And as Simone Weil said, when we cultivate the art of attention we are also learning how to pray, since prayer consists in paying attention to God – not just acknowledging God, but becoming fully aware of God and fully aware of God’s presence in our lives. By practising attention in the classroom, we also learn how to practise the presence of God.

Upcoming Events

Coming up next week at the Millis Institute is our first Café Conversation of the year. On Thursday night we will be hosting a public discussion of the question: Can the moral life survive in an age of social media? I will be joined by the ABC’s Scott Stephens (host of The Minefield on Radio National, and of the ABC’s Religion & Ethics website). It will be an evening of stimulating conversation about one of the great moral issues of our time. Come along and join in the discussion! Click here to register. Next month we will also be hosting our 2018 Future Leaders Fellowship(formerly the Witherspoon Fellowship), an annual two-day liberal arts immersion for high school students in Years 10-12. This year’s theme will be Speeches That Made History. We’ll be exploring a selection of powerful speeches from some of history’s most courageous moral leaders. Participants will engage in Socratic discussion groups, public speaking, a debating competition, and more. Click here for more information, or to register. Perhaps you’re interested in starting up a local reading group, or in coming along to a Millis Institute class to see what it’s like. Don’t be shy, get in touch any time! And we hope to see you next week at our Café Conversation.

When I was a teenager my mother came home one day and said she was going to do a PhD in literature. She wanted to write about George Herbert, a great Christian poet from the 17th century. For the next few years my mother studied George Herbert’s poems, lovingly working over every line and syllable. You could see that reading poetry really made her come alive. She was in her element, a fish in water. And because my mother likes to talk, she shared all her discoveries with me. Every week she had something new to talk about. She wasn’t trying to teach me anything. She was just enjoying herself, doing something she loved, and sharing it with anyone who would listen. Most healthy adolescents in Queensland have never heard of anyone named George Herbert. But by the time my mother had graduated with her PhD, I knew many of Herbert’s poems by heart. They had become as familiar to me as the pots and pans in our kitchen. Walking to school sometimes I would revolve one of his poems in my mind, examining it from different angles, admiring the way it had been put together. At the time I didn’t understand what was happening to me. But looking back on it now it is all very clear. My mother’s love of poetry was as infectious as the flu, and I had caught it. I had become a student of literature. Before I went to university, before I enrolled in any degree, I had already received the most formative educational experience of my life. I had discovered the existence of poetry. I had learned that the best reading is slow reading: the kind of reading my mother was doing when she carefully contemplated the poems of George Herbert, wrestling with them over months and even years and never letting go until they had conferred their hidden blessing. When I think about education today, I think of this experience and of the mysterious process by which my mother’s love of poetry became my own. Great educators are the ones who love something just because it’s there – a poem, a period of history, the anatomy of ants, or whatever – and who devote such loving attention to it that other people start paying attention too. When you see somebody gazing intently into the sky, you can’t help taking a look as well just to find out what’s there. My mother spent years of her life gazing intently at poems, and eventually I followed her gaze and discovered for myself what all the fuss was about. I began to love what she loved – and this love has shaped the whole course of my life. This is why liberal arts education is so life-changing. It’s a method of education that isn’t based on filling our heads with information. It’s about learning how to pay attention to worthwhile things. Attention leads to love, and love draws us out beyond ourselves into a wider world. It makes us more fully human, more alive, than we were before.What’s new at Millis?

It has been an exciting few weeks as students have begun a new year at the Millis Institute. At our matriculation ceremony, we welcomed the new liberal arts students and formally received them into the scholarly community. The ceremony was held outdoors under the blessing of the kookaburras and the eucalyptus trees. Students wrote their names in the matriculation book and received their academic robes from Dr Jeannie Trudel, the President of CHC; and Dr Rod St-Hill, Vice President (Academic), closed the proceedings with the Scholar's Prayer by the 13th-century theologian Thomas Aquinas. Last week students and faculty enjoyed our first formal hall of 2018. We proceeded into the dining hall in academic robes, where we shared a meal and heard from our guest speaker, Dr Jeannie Trudel. During dessert it was announced that four Millis students have been awarded CHC scholarships of $2,500 each. With the support of these scholarships, the students will travel to the UK this year to participate in the Oxford Summer School program, where they will take courses in literature, philosophy, and history – all as part of their Bachelor degree at the Millis Institute. In other news, enrolments are now open for our new postgraduate degree, the Graduate Diploma in the Liberal Arts. The unit on “Thinking Logically: Foundations of Liberal Arts Study” is available in intensive mode during the mid-year winter semester; while the units “The Examined Life in Modern Culture” and “Thinking Theologically: Foundations for Interpreting Western Civilisation” will be available in second semester. If you’re looking to join a vibrant learning community where you can deepen your thinking, read great books, and explore the big ideas, the Graduate Diploma in the Liberal Arts might just be for you! Contact millis@chc.edu.au for more details.This is a text block. You can use it to add text to your template.

If you want to evangelise a neighbourhood you plant a church; if you want to evangelise a culture you start a university. That is the vision that brought CHC into being. It is the vision that brought me here as a student 20 years ago, and that has brought me back today as the new director of the Millis Institute.Looking for the Millis Institute

I was almost fresh from high school when I first came to CHC. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. But I loved books and ideas and God – and I loved discussing those things with other people. I was 19 years old and I wanted to study literature, philosophy, theology, the history of ideas. I wanted to go deeper and to put it all together somehow. I wasn’t looking for a job; I was looking for foundations for my life. I was looking for the Millis Institute – though it did not exist yet.

So I did my Bachelor of Arts and went on to do further studies at James Cook University, followed by a postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Queensland and a visiting fellowship in Princeton. Then I moved to Sydney where for the past decade I have been teaching theology and the history of Christian thought at Charles Sturt University.

But the vision that first brought me to CHC has never left me. So when Ryan Messmore told me he would be taking up a new position in the United States, I eagerly seized the opportunity to return to Brisbane and to continue Dr Messmore’s pioneering work at the Millis Institute.Shaping Culture

The Millis Institute is about the study of culture and the shaping of culture. Our culture is our collective spiritual life. It includes how we think, what we value, how we make meaning, how we use symbols and imagination, the things we love and strive for – that whole bundle of things that Charles Taylor refers to as the “social imaginary.” The evangelisation of culture does not mean that every individual in a society becomes a Christian. It means instead that the culture itself begins to yield to the reforming and revitalising influence of the gospel. There have been societies in which virtually everyone was a member of the Christian church, yet collectively their cultural life was opposed to the gospel. That happened in Nazi Germany, where millions of respectable church-going citizens embraced a demonic ideology. Individually they were Christians, but their culture – and with it the whole of European culture – descended into spiritual darkness and material ruin. By contrast, there are societies in which Christians form only a minority, but that “little platoon” (as Edmund Burke called it) exerts a disproportionate influence on the wider cultural imagination. Where that happens, the laws of a society will be measured against the perfect standard of God’s justice. Politics will prize the search for truth more highly than naked power and self-interest. Education will take seriously both the dignity and the disorder of human nature. Art and music will point beyond themselves to an eternal weight of glory.An Ongoing Task

The evangelisation of culture cannot happen in one instant. True conversion takes a lifetime. Five hundred years ago Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the church door in Wittenberg. In that epoch-making document, Luther reminded the church that conversion to Christ must extend across the whole course of life:

“When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said to repent, he willed that the whole life of believers should be one of repentance.”

It is the same with the conversion of culture. The evangelisation of culture is an ongoing task that demands a long-range vision. It requires institutions with deep roots. It requires education that nourishes the whole person. It requires generations of leaders and thinkers and policy-makers who can engage critically and creatively with their own cultural moment.

All of us participate in culture. But often that participation is passive and unreflective. We share the values, yearnings, and aspirations of our culture without really knowing why. The Millis Institute equips future leaders with the capacity to engage deliberately and reflectively with their culture. The study of the liberal arts equips students to be shapers, not just consumers, of culture. It frees our minds from the tyranny of the present. Immersion in the larger traditions of Western civilisation gives us a critical perspective on ourselves and our culture. We read the great books because through them we discover ourselves – our prejudices and blind spots as well as our distinctive virtues and possibilities.This Year at Millis I’m excited to be taking on this role at the Millis Institute. And I’m excited about our many initiatives this year. We’ve just launched our revamped website with fresh content about our teaching facultyand publications. We’re now commencing our Graduate Diploma in Liberal Arts, a one-year (full-time) or two-year (part-time) degree featuring philosophy, literature, theology, geometry, mathematics, rhetoric, and more. This semester a number of our students will be heading off to Oxford University where they will engage in intensive study in the Oxford Summer Program. And we will be launching a generous new scholarship scheme to support Millis students who plan to attend the Oxford Summer Program as part of their degree. Students in our Bachelor of Arts program this year will be reading and discussing some of the most powerful and influential books of Western culture – Plato’s Republic, Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, Augustine’s City of God, Dante’s Divine Comedy, Milton’s Paradise Lost, Hobbes’s Leviathan, Pascal’s Pensées – alongside modern authors like C. S. Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, T. S. Eliot, and Simone Weil. Our Socratic seminars will explore the biggest ideas of Western culture, from love and justice to ethics and education, from astronomy and anatomy to democracy and the doctrine of the Trinity. In June we will be hosting the Future Leaders Fellowship (formerly the Witherspoon Fellowship), a two-day program in which a select group of high school students gets to experience an immersion in the culture of Socratic dialogue and liberal arts education. In April we’ll be hosting our next Café Conversation, a public dialogue at Rivers Café exploring issues in contemporary culture. And in May the Millis Institute will be launching a new book, The Apostles’ Creed: A Guide to the Ancient Catechism – one of many books by our faculty. It will be an exciting year and I look forward to engaging with our students and with the whole Millis community as together we strive to become shapers of culture to the glory of God. Dr Ben Myers Director, The Millis Institute

In Homer’s epic poem, The Odyssey, the main character finds himself on an island paradise with the promise of immortality from Calypso, a goddess who loves him. With so much to appreciate, what could possibly be missing? Nevertheless, Odysseus cannot shake a deeper longing—the longing to return home to his familiar kingdom and family.

Great books like this help to initiate us into the deep dynamics of being human. They're great because they ring true. Five years ago I came to Australia to help advance the cause of Christ-centred liberal arts education. For the past three years, I’ve had the wonderful privilege of designing and launching the Millis Institute at Christian Heritage College. There is so much I appreciate about this community of learning—the students, the staff, the conversations about the big issues of life, the commitment to faith, the books, and the friendships. And yet there’s also the longing for home and a family that we get to see too rarely. Given that our original intent was to spend five years in Australia, we sense it's time to return to the States, where I've accepted a job in Christian liberal arts education near my family.

I'm thrilled to announce that I’ll be handing the leadership baton of the Millis Institute to Dr Ben Myers. Dr Myers is a leading scholar from Sydney who resonates deeply with the liberal arts. Not only is he a CHC graduate, but he also studied personally with Dr Brian Millis, the Institute's namesake. This will be somewhat of a homecoming for him, too.

For nine years Dr Myers has been lecturing at the School of Theology at Charles Sturt University, and he has also completed a one-year research fellowship at the Center for Theological Inquiry at Princeton University in the States. Specialising in theology, ethics, and literature, Dr Myers has published four books and numerous book chapters and articles, engaging thinkers from Milton to Bonhoeffer and topics from the Apostle’s Creed to the Trinity. I'm very excited that Dr Myers also shares an appreciation for Socratic questioning, and will safeguard the round-table, conversational approach to learning that marks all Millis Institute subjects. He will also continue to oversee the thoughtful exploration of the Christian faith in all subjects in the curriculum, as well as the development of the communal life among students and staff. With strong anticipated enrolments for 2018 and a newly accredited Graduate Diploma in the Liberal Arts, the Millis Institute is poised to continue to grow and flourish. I look forward to supporting Dr Myers and the Institute students as much as I can. Moreover, I trust God’s faithfulness in completing the good work that He has only just begun here on this little liberal arts island in Queensland. It has truly felt like an epic journey for me—one for which I am immensely grateful!

September at the Millis Institute

Below are some highlights of the learning and fun that we've enjoyed this month at the Millis Institute.

Millis Institute students square off in a debate at our recent Formal Hall dinner. Here teams "Aristotle" and "C.S. Lewis" do battle over the proposition that smooth peanut butter is superior to crunchy.

Students prepare to engage not only their minds but also their hands in the Science and Astronomy class. While studying anatomy, they explore a pig's head, a lamb's brain, and a cow's heart and kidney. Meanwhile, in the Trinity class, a student tabled something much more appealing: cupcakes that spell "PERICHORESIS"!

In the annual soccer match between CHC staff and Australian Studies Centre students, the staff secured a convincing victory. Unfortunately, the Director of Student Services issued the innocent Millis Institute Director a yellow card (even though the unjust judge should have received one himself for wearing those socks with sneakers)!

Our recent Informal Hall featured Mexican food and dancing lessons.

Millis students entered Spring Break on a high note by attending the annual CHC Ball, whose theme was "A Night at the Oscars." Held at Rydges South Bank Hotel, the Ball was organised by a terrific Student Representative Council, including Millis students Johan Taljaard (President), Kim Noronha (Secretary), and Jessica Kolbe (Academic Board Rep).

When I was in high school, my church’s youth group was very small. As triplets, my sisters and I constituted about a third of the group! Therefore, I started a coalition of local youth groups that met periodically for larger events, and I called it “Eclipse.” The tag line was “youth coming together in perfect alignment with the Son.” (See what I did there with the spelling of “Son”!)

Of course, as fallen creatures, our lives don’t align perfectly with the way of Jesus, but the analogy drew upon a phenomenon that is indeed possible in the cosmos. On rare occasions, when the Earth’s moon passes in front of our sun, the two objects seem to coincide perfectly.

As Richards explains, to sustain life, a planet needs to be the right distance from its host star (otherwise the planet would be too hot or too cold to hold liquid water) and it needs a large, well-placed moon (due to gravitational pull, a different-size moon positioned differently in space would cause Earth “to wobble on its axis erratically and be very hostile to complex life”).

As it so happens, the right size of celestial bodies and the right distance between them are also what make total solar eclipses possible. Although the sun is 400 times larger than the moon, it is also 400 times farther away from Earth than the moon, causing them to appear the same size and to align perfectly during a total eclipse. In sum, what makes our planet habitable are some of the very conditions necessary for this rare observable event.

valuable information that helps to advance scientific knowledge. Around 150 BC, Greek astronomer Hipparchus of Nicaea used a solar eclipse to calculate the distance between Earth and our moon. In 1868, French astronomer Pierre Jules César Janssen discovered a new element (helium) during a total eclipse. And in 1919, Sir Arthur Eddington used a total solar eclipse to test Albert Einstein’s general theory of relativity. When the discovery was made public, Einstein become a household name overnight, and his theory of relativity became the foundation of modern cosmology.

In short, the only vantage point in the solar system from which such scientifically fruitful observations can be made happens to be the one environment that can sustain the life of scientific observers. Is this reality concerning coinciding orbs mere coincidence? For Richards, it’s just what we would expect if God has designed the universe for discovery.

Rather than somehow being at odds with science, Christians place their faith in a God who can be seen as inviting and intending scientific exploration. This is one reason why the Millis Institute teaches astronomy—not only is it one of the 7 original liberal arts, but it also points to the intentional handiwork behind a finely-tuned and wonderfully-ordered creation. So while we struggle to live more perfectly in line with the Son, let us be open to learning from the perfection on display when our Earth and moon align with the sun. The heavens really do reveal the glory of their Creator; the sun, moon and stars in their courses above witness to His great faithfulness and love!

Millis Institute Announces

Accreditation of Graduate Diploma

We are very pleased to announce that the Millis Institute has received accreditation for a brand new course: Graduate Diploma in the Liberal Arts—The Examined Life. Socrates argued that the unexamined life is not worth living. This new postgraduate course—which also contains a nested graduate certificate—seeks to help university graduates and professionals pursue the examined life in their institutions, communities and careers. This course will be delivered through 4-5 day intensives offered several times throughout the year. “Trinitarian Foundations of a Christian Worldview,” “Critical Thinking,” “Literature and History of Western Civilisation,” and “The Examined Life in Modern Culture” are some of the units that will be on offer. Stay tuned for more details about this exciting new educational opportunity.

Mark Zuckerberg does it once a fortnight. Bill Gates does it once a week. Elon Musk used to do it twice a day. Unfortunately, according to recent statistics, one out of five first year uni students has never done it at all. Not even once.

The Internet and social media have trained my brain to read a paragraph or two, and then start looking around. When I read an online article … after a few paragraphs I glance over at the slide bar to judge the article’s length. My mind strays, and I find myself clicking on the sidebars and the underlined links. Soon I’m over at CNN.com reading Donald Trump’s latest tweets and details of the latest terrorist attack, or perhaps checking tomorrow’s weather.

Sound familiar? The problem isn’t simply that we lack time to read. The problem, rather, is that we lack the time to read deeply. The numerous hours we spend consuming television and social media leaves little time for serious books. Nicholas Carr, author of The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains, says, “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski.” We seem to do a lot of “cruising” online, but less and less “deep reading”—i.e., reading which requires intense concentration and thus a slower pace.

This phenomenon has no doubt contributed to disturbing findings in a report about incoming American university students. According to the National Association of Scholars, about 4 million of them—almost 20% of first-year uni students—have rarely if ever read an adult book on their own. When universities recommend books for their students to read prior to arriving on campus, selection committees

choose low-grade ‘accessible’ works that are presumed to appeal to ‘book virgins’ who will flee actual college-level reading … [S]uch ‘book virgins’ have to be wooed with simple, unchallenging works.

Sadly, these students are forestalling growth in not only the kind of quiet meditation that aids the Christian life but also the human understanding that will help them in the job market. This is true whether they go on to become English teachers or economists. In their book Cents and Sensibility, Gary Morson and Morton Schapiro argue that wise economists are able to empathise with people and treat them as real human beings rather than as mere abstractions. How can economists train these sensibilities? Morson and Schapiro suggest reading good literature:

economists could gain wisdom from reading great novelists … Stories, after all, steep us in characters’ lives, forcing us to see the world as other people do. … although many fields of study tell their practitioners to empathize, only literature offers practice in doing it.

And deep reading is actually easier than we think ... once we get started. According to Yancey, neuroscience shows that “it actually takes less energy to focus intently than to zip from task to task. After an hour of contemplation, or deep reading, a person ends up less tired and less neurochemically depleted, thus more able to tackle mental challenges.”

“Here’s the simple truth behind reading a lot of books,” says Quartz Media: “It’s not that hard. We have all the time we need. The scary part—the part we all ignore—is that we are too addicted, too weak, and too distracted to do what we all know is important.”

To recover the practice of serious reading, Quartz and Yancey offer a few tips to consider: 1) Physically remove all distractions. (That means setting your smart phone or social media device in another room or turning off the e-mail and text alert “dings”.) 2) Make books as easy to access as possible. (Keep them on your nightstand, in the boot of your car, or wherever you may find yourself with some down “down time.”) 3) When it comes to reading, be a jack of all trades, not a specialist. 4) Yancey suggests trying poetry. (“You can’t zoom through poetry; it forces you to slow down, think, concentrate, relish words and phrases.”) 5) Build a "fortress of habits." This is key. If we are to overcome distraction and engage serious books, we can’t rely on willpower alone. Reading needs to become a protected habit, plain and simple. My wife and my kids are joining me in an effort to make a habit out of reading together as a family. The five of us and the cat cuddle into bean bags and read together for 30 minutes each night (although our track record isn’t perfect). According to Quartz’s calculations, even doing this six nights a week would allow each family member to read roughly 75 books a year. I invite you to take up the challenge and build your own fortress of habits around deep reading.

Rich Coffee and Discussion Flowed at First

"Café Conversation"

On July 19th the Millis Institute hosted our first "Café Conversation." 70 attendees gathered in Rivers Cafe to discuss "C.S. Lewis and Moral Relativism." Due to the positive feedback, we're already planning a similar event for later this year. If you're thirsty for more deep conversation, stay tuned to The Pillar, where we will announce the details in a month or two.

Welcome to Semester 2!

Last week Millis Institute students returned to class and engaged in the deep reading of authors like Aristotle, Dante, Augustine, and Lesslie Newbigin. But their noses have not only been inside of great books. In their astronomy class they are casting their eyes to the stars; in music they're learning to sing rounds; and in geometry they're constructing shapes and angles. Pictured below are members of the Geometry unit laying out Euclid's proof of his complex Proposition 2. What a privilege to work with these students as they build a "fortress of habits" around liberal arts learning!

Shortly before the famous Battle of Agincourt in 1415, things were looking bleak for the British. Really bleak.

On the morning of October 25th (the feast of Saint Crispin), the English troops found themselves outnumbered 5 to 1 by the French army. Having just marched 420 km across France, King Henry V’s men were tired, hungry, and suffering from illness. If ever there was a time when they required good leadership, it was now.

As Shakespeare tells the story, King Henry V gathered his frightened men and proclaimed:

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd ... Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."

He then looked around and called several of his men by name, predicting that they would become household names back in England. “Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester”—these names would be toasted in the pubs by those who gather on the Vigil of St. Crispin’s in future years. As you can see in the film version staring Kenneth Branagh, the king's rousing words had their intended effect on these wearied troops.

Reading this speech reminds me of a leadership strategy of another "V": Coach Jim Valvano. “Jimmy V,” as he came to be known, died of cancer in 1993, but he is most famous for his years coaching the North Carolina State University men’s basketball team. Early in each season, Jimmy V would hold a practice on the basketball court, but no basketballs were present. The players didn’t pass or shoot or run sprints.

Instead, they practiced cutting down the basketball nets. It's a tradition for the winner of the annual NCAA Basketball Tournament to cut down the net of the basketball hoop used in the game. Each player takes a small piece as a memento, and the team displays the remainder of the net in the university's trophy case. By bringing a ladder and scissors to practice and having his team go through the motions of cutting down the net, Jimmy V painted a picture of victory. He didn’t just talk about winning the championship, he made it a tangible vision for his players. He ingrained confidence deep within by having them rehearse the end goal with their bodies.

As it happened, in 1983, the #6 seeded North Carolina State team made it all the way to the finals of the national tournament and beat the #1 seeded team in an improbable upset. Sure enough, Coach Valvano and his players climbed the ladder and cut down the nets, just as they had practiced earlier in the season. (Although what often gets more attention is this clip of the jubilant coach running onto the court after the buzzer-beating shot and looking for someone—anyone—to hug!)

Whether it's Jimmy V or Henry V, a good leader can paint a vivid picture of success. Whereas Coach Valvano got his players to believe they could win by rehearsing the championship celebration, King Henry cast a vision for his troops of English townsfolk toasting their heroic victory for years to come. In fact, the King told them that not a feast day of Saint Crispin would go by

From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be rememberèd- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

I’ll toast to that kind of inspiring leadership!

Emerging Leaders Gather for Witherspoon Fellowship

Two weeks ago students came to the Millis Institute from schools across Brisbane and as far away as Dalby and the Sunshine and Gold Coasts to participate in the 2017 Witherspoon Fellowship. In addition to reading and discussing texts like Henry V's St. Crispin's Day Speech, participants engaged in a public speaking competition, a "speed debating" challenge, and ballroom dancing lessons. The weekend culminated in a Formal Hall Dinner, Oxford-style. Thanks to all those who made this event such a success!

Join Us for a "Café Conversation"

If you thirst for some deeper discussions about serious issues of our day, come to a free Millis Institute “Café Conversation.” On Wednesday 19 July, 2017 we will engage the topic of moral relativism, asking questions such as “Can we truly know right from wrong?” and “Are moral judgments anything more than personal preferences?” The words and wisdom of C.S. Lewis will be our focus during this conversation, and Dr. Ryan Messmore will moderate. Come just for the discussion or stay to learn more about studying at the Millis Institute. The Director and several students will be on hand to share about the bachelor degree and diploma options in the liberal arts, as well as the community life at the Institute. Register for this free event here.

Soon after preparing a discussion for a geometry class, I read a recent article

You’ve likely heard that a2 + b2 = c2. But do you know why this is the case? Most geometry courses simply hand this formula to students to memorise and utilise in calculations. But at the Millis Institute, we have our students explore why the Pythagorean Theorem is true. That is, they must prove why, in a right triangle, the square of the hypotenuse always equals the sum of the squares of the other two sides.

What’s the point of this exercise? Surely, a student will never actually have to justify the Pythagorean Theorem in “real life.” After all, it’s just an accepted equation in math, and computers can do the calculating for them. The reason we have our students prove this famous theorem is that it trains them to think in a certain way. It trains them in the habits of justifying their claims, tracing the logical links between the steps of an argument, and solving problems (which is one of the skills required in the future workforce). In other words, it trains them to think like Euclid.

Euclid lived around the time of Aristotle (300 BCE). In his book, The Elements, Euclid provides a very complex proof for a2 + b2 = c2. His genius was to base all his geometry on the fewest possible number of assumptions, called “axioms.” He narrowed these self-evident starting points down to only five, having to do with basic claims about points, lines, circles, right angles, and parallel lines. From these building blocks, he proved over 460 different truths in geometry--including the Pythagorean Theorem--each one relying on the proofs worked out before it.

This sort of axiomatic system is a gymnasium for rigorous thinking. You can think of geometry as a logic class using shapes—a mental training ground of triangles.

Abraham Lincoln understood the value of thinking like Euclid. While studying to be a lawyer, Lincoln realised that he needed to become an expert in what it means to “demonstrate” a point or argument. What did he do? He went to his father's house and “staid there till I could give any propositions in the six books of Euclid at sight. I then found out what 'demonstrate' means, and went back to my law studies.”

Today, many people consume “fake news” without being able to discern the difference with “real news.” Many employees hit a brick wall when asked to tackle a problem that wasn’t part of their formal training, and many home-owners get stuck when something goes wrong and requires a work-around. And, sadly, many people of faith do not comprehend the underlying reasons for their basic beliefs. Which raises the question as to whether modern education has given up teaching units like Socratic Logic and Euclidean Geometry too quickly. Even though most of the students at the Millis Institute will not go on to become professional mathematicians, they will enter a world in which problem-solving is a necessary skill. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, whatever they do, they will think … and if they do not think well, they will think poorly. When it comes to guides to thinking well, Euclid has no parallel!

Learn More About a Liberal Arts Education by

Joining Us for a "Café Conversation"

If you thirst for some deeper discussions about serious issues of our day, come to a free Millis Institute “Café Conversation.” On Wednesday 19 July, 2017 we will engage the topic of moral relativism, asking questions such as “Can we truly know right from wrong?” and “Are moral judgments anything more than personal preferences?” The words and wisdom of C. S. Lewis will be our focus during this conversation, and Dr. Ryan Messmore will moderate. Come just for the discussion or stay to learn more about studying at the Millis Institute. The Director and several students will be on hand to share about the bachelor degree and diploma options in the liberal arts, as well as the community life at the Institute. Register for this free event here.

Can sincerely held moral convictions be wrong? Two weeks ago I spent an entire school day with the Year 12 students at Toowoomba Christian College. From 9:00 am – 3:00 pm we discussed this question, which is the central focus of C. S. Lewis’ The Abolition of Man.

To set the stage, we watched a popular YouTube clip of students at an American university being asked a series of questions by a middle age, medium height, white male.

“If I told you I was a woman, what would your response be?,” he asked. “I wouldn’t have a problem with it,” responded one student. “If I told you I was Chinese, what would your response be?,” the interviewer continued. “Good for you—be who you are,” answered another student. “7 years old…?,” he inquired. “If you feel 7 at heart, then so be it,” came the reply. Then he posed this question: “What if I told you I was 6 feet, 5 inches tall?” “You’re not,” said a respondent. Summing things up, the interviewer asked, “So I can be a Chinese woman ... but I can’t be a 6’5’’ Chinese woman?” “Yes,” came the answer. Questions about identity are notoriously complex, and they deserve a more careful, nuanced consideration than this edited clip provides. But the video succeeds in reminding us that today’s students are growing up in very confusing times! What stands out is how hesitant millennials seem to be in telling another person that their sincerely held beliefs might be wrong.

In The Abolition of Man, Lewis raises a question about someone looking at a waterfall and calling it sublime. What, he asks, is this judgment referring to—the waterfall or the observer’s feelings? If the latter, then we would not argue that the claim was either accurate or false, for in that case the word “sublime” would simply indicate an individual’s preference.

But Lewis thinks that such a claim can, indeed, be evaluated as a truth claim about the waterfall—the kind of claim that can be reasonably debated by different parties. To assert that something is sublime or good—and to mean more than just “I happen to prefer it”—we must be able to evaluate it in terms of some recognised independent standard. To evaluate the claim that a man is 6’5” tall, he would need to stand next to a yard stick. Similarly, to evaluate the claim that a human behaviour or relationship is wrong, we would need to compare it to some objective moral standard. The central question of The Abolition of Man is whether such an objective moral order exists. Arguing from within the Christian tradition, Lewis asserts that it does. There is, he says, something inherent in the waterfall’s nature that deserves to be appreciated. Similarly, there is something inherent in human nature that makes certain ways of treating people good and other ways bad. Where does objective value come from and in what does it consist? The key, I believe, is PURPOSE—i.e., the notion of what something would become if it developed unhindered into what it was intended to be. The purpose for which something was created—what the ancient Greeks called its telos—is the standard by which we can judge it good or bad. A good watch is a watch that does what it was created to do well, and a good relationship is a one that fulfills God’s purposes when creating us as relational beings. As Lesslie Newbigin said,

Value judgments are either right or wrong in that they are or are not directed to the end for which all things in fact exist … If one has no idea of the purpose for which a thing exists ... then one cannot say whether it is good or bad. It may be good for some purposes but not for others.

On this view, to call something “good” is not just to say that you happen to like it (and if somebody else disagrees and calls it “bad,” you are both right). Rather, to call something “good” is to say that it is close to what it was intended to be—it is realising or achieving the purpose for which it was created. Christian schools and universities need to teach students how to think clearly about the nature of the world that we inhabit and of the people that we interact with. If these are realities created by God with purpose and meaning, then there’s something more than our mere personal opinions to attend to. If certain kinds of behaviour and relationship have a telos that’s embedded in the very nature of what it means to be human, then it can actually be loving to acknowledge that reality. Indeed, Lewis thought we had a moral duty to help our neighbours—and to allow our neighbours to help us—to better align with that objective moral order. We should do so with charity and humility, but we should do so nonetheless. If, instead, our educational institutions fail to teach the reality of a true human nature or telos—if they fail to teach teleologically—then they will help contribute to the abolition of man. [Kudos to schools like Toowoomba Christian College for devoting time and attention to such an important topic for students at such a crucial stage of life!]

Final Formal Hall of Semester 1

Last week the Millis Institute celebrated the end of Semester 1 with a formal hall dinner. During dessert, two Millis students--Johnny van Gend and Kate Worley--treated us to a pair of violin duets by Reinhold Gliere. We were also honoured to have as our guest speaker Ps Ron Woolley, Headmaster of Citipointe Chrisian College, who is retiring at the end of 2017. Thank you, Ron, for your many years of faithful service!

what a successful college career looks like. Among his advice is: “Find the best professors, read the best books, study the most beautiful music and art, struggle with the first and most abiding questions.”

There’s a lot to consider in this single sentence. For example, Snell (pictured here) doesn’t advise seeking out classes with the easiest exams, the most entertaining PowerPoint slides or the most modern technology. Instead, he says to search for classes that assign the best books (which may have been written more than 5-10 years ago!). He also suggests that students select subjects oriented not simply to the job they might finally end up with, but to “the first and most abiding questions.” That might mean fitting some philosophy and theology into one’s class schedule.

But I want to focus on Snell’s recommendation for university students to pursue what’s beautiful. What does beauty have to do with education or the quest for truth? Let’s return to our tendency to take photos of beautiful things. According to Harvard Professor Elaine Scarry, we do this because beauty stimulates replication. That is, beauty inspires the desire in us to repeat it by bringing copies of itself into being.

When we go somewhere beautiful, we take a photo so that we can, in a sense, freeze that moment and repeat it for ourselves later, somehow making the experience of that beautiful thing last. Ludwig Wittgenstein said that when the eye sees something beautiful, the hand wants to draw it.

Plato even thought that when the eye sees someone beautiful, the whole body wants to reproduce him/her, and this helps explain the desire for procreation! It also explains the basic phenomenon of staring. Staring reveals our desire to continue to behold the beautiful object in our perceptual field a little bit longer. In her book On Beauty and Being Just, Scarry claims that we so desire beautiful things to remain in our perception that we seek out opportunities to place ourselves in the path of beauty. This desire, she argues, is the basic impulse underlying education.

“One submits oneself to other minds (teachers) in order to increase the chance that one will be looking in the right direction when a comet makes its sweep through a certain patch of sky.”

When we catch a glimpse of beauty—whether from a profound idea, an elegant mathematical formula, a captivating work of literature or music, or even a law that is fair (notice the word can denote both a just rule and a beautiful face)—we want not only to replicate that experience, but also to gain further clarity about it. Beauty convicts us and motivates us to pursue its truth, and so we seek out those who can help us toward this end. In short, beauty is a starting place for education. That's why I think Snell is right about a successful college career:

“Trust me, in twenty years, no one, not even you, will care about your [grades or marks]. But the books you read will form you now and remain with you then. Find the best professors, read the best books, study the most beautiful music and art, struggle with the first and most abiding questions. … If you graduate and can count Plato, Aristotle, Dante, Austen, Augustine, and Moses as your friends, and are a student of those professors who count those same people as their friends, you’ll have succeeded.”

That’s advice worth repeating.

Register for Beautiful Arguments and

Dancing at the Witherspoon Fellowship!

Registrations are filling up for this year's Witherspoon Fellowship. Hosted by the Millis Institute on 23-24 June, this program offers Year 10-12 students a 2-day course on "leadership through the liberal arts." During this time, emerging leaders take part in Socratic discussions over great texts, debate and public speaking exercises, an Oxford-style formal hall dinner, and ballroom dancing lessons! See here for information on how to register.

According to John’s Gospel, they were the last words uttered from the cross. The Lord must have chosen them carefully, and they must bear extremely important meaning. But what is that meaning? When Jesus cried out, “It is finished,” to what was he referring? Growing up, I assumed that Jesus was simply pointing to his time on earth. In other words, he was declaring that his human life was now at its end; he was at the point of death. Others might understand the statement as reference to Jesus completing the task of paying the debt for sins—or perhaps to the end of the power of sin itself. Still others might hear echoes of a marriage being established. The Latin translation of the phrase is “Consummatum est” or “It is consummated.” This is the same declaration that would be heard at a Jewish wedding during biblical times once a bride and groom had privately consummated their marriage sexually. At the most recent Millis Institute formal hall, we considered another possibility: the “It” in “It is finished” may refer to the Passover meal that Jesus celebrated during his Last Supper.

Millis Institute students and staff celebrate a formal hall dinner shortly before Easter.

As a Passover celebration, the disciples would have expected Jesus to follow the traditional order of the festival meal. This included singing certain Psalms, eating certain foods, and drinking from four cups of wine at specific intervals during the meal. The latter part of the meal would be marked by drinking the third cup of wine, singing a hymn (called the “Great Hallel”), and then concluding with the fourth cup of wine. In Matthew’s Gospel, we read that Jesus took a cup and said, “this is my blood of the covenant." Scholars believe that this was the third cup of the Passover meal, the “cup of blessing.” Paul even identifies it as such in 1 Cor. 10:16. Immediately after drinking from this cup, Matthew writes that, “When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives” (Matt 26:30). At this point, the disciples would have no doubt been pondering a huge question: what happened to the fourth cup? Jesus referred to a cup later that night in the Garden of Gethsemane: “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39).

Then, when he is on the cross, we read:

Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished” (John 19:28-30).

This passage links Jesus saying “It is finished” to the cup that he had just drunk, and we can understand that cup as the fourth and final cup of the Passover meal left incomplete from the previous night. This is significant because the Passover meal was the meal that renewed God’s covenant with His people—his personal, intimate union with Israel and the Church forever. By completing the Passover on the cross, Jesus not only fulfilled this covenant perfectly but also established a new covenant, centered upon himself as the sacrifice. God’s promised covenant blessings—new life in His Spirit—poured forth 2 days later! The fact that John’s Gospel presents these words as Jesus’ last is indeed significant. They identify the good news of Christ’s saving mission: the Creator of the universe has entered into a personal union with His people, and through Jesus we can share in His covenant love. Easter is understood by way of Good Friday, and significant aspects of Good Friday can be understood by way of the meal celebrated on the previous Thursday. “Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us: Therefore let us keep the feast” (1 Cor. 5:7-8)!

Register Now for The Witherspoon Fellowship: "Leadership through the Liberal Arts"

Dr Messmore to Speak about His New Book in Sydney and Melbourne

Dr Messmore will be discussing his new book, In Love: The Larger Story of Sex and Marriage at the following events: April 26th - Western Sydney - 7:30pm: Our Lady of the Angels Church, 1 Wellgate Avenue, Kellyville April 27th - Sydney CBD - 8:00am: With Herald Sun columnist Mrs Miranda Devine at Polding Centre, 133 Liverpool Street; learn more and register here May 1 - Melbourne - 7:30pm: Theology @ The Pub, European Bier Cafe, 120 Exhibition Street

According to David Brookshis respondents have engaged ... and a question for each side.

Loving our neighbours entails sharing with them the good news of the gospel. It also entails actively working for justice and the common good in our communities. If the larger society lives according to a worldview that lacks purpose, coherence, or hope, Christians should try to help it understand the vision of God’s Kingdom. If the larger society advances evil social structures or harmful public institutions, churches should work for positive transformation. Let’s refer to this as the biblical calling to be salt. It presupposes a penetrating engagement in public conversations and practices. It entails active mission in the world for the world’s good. The ability to love our neighbour, however, also requires that we have something genuinely different to offer. More specifically, it entails that we are something different—i.e., that the Church lives as a community that sees, prioritises, and relates differently. In other words, the Church doesn’t love the world by living according to the world’s terms. Rather, the Church must speak, think, and act in terms of the gospel. In short, the ability to love our neighbour requires that the body of Christ maintain a degree of distinctness from our larger culture. This doesn’t mean that the Church should withdraw from public conversations and pursuits. The distinctness referred to here is not a geographical distinctness (i.e., moving out into the desert) but a moral distinctness. The Church should live and carry out its mission in the world, but it’s identity and character should not be of the world. (Here the term “world” names not so much a place in which people live as it does a way of living--i.e., contrary to God’s purposes.) Let’s refer to this need to live as a distinct people as the biblical calling to be light. It presupposes an alternative community that can be displayed to the watching world. It entails serving the world by offering it a visible, countercultural model.

In today’s discussion, some Christians emphasise the calling to be salt, while others emphasise the calling to be light. When the latter promote the strategy of offering a countercultural model, the former tend to be wary of withdrawal. When the former promote the strategy of active missional engagement—for example, in state politics—the latter tend to be wary of accommodation.

For any Christian considering these two strands of calling, it would be wise to consider a question that each side might ask of the other.Question #1 For those promoting engagement with the world, the question is: how can Christians expect to offer their neighbours a different way of thinking and loving if they fully immerse themselves in their neighbours' ways of speaking and acting? This question recognizes that the ability to see and love differently are habits formed through regular participation in a particular language and set of practices. In other words, maintaining a distinct alternative requires being shaped by a different community. And, for Christians, the formative community that should receive our highest loyalty is neither the nation nor the larger culture, but the Church. Again, prioritising the Church’s distinct language, beliefs and practices does not necessarily reveal a disregard for the world, but can actually be a condition for serving it well. But then we must ask the second question.Question #2 For those promoting a distinct countercultural community, the question is: how will those who live according to a different worldview be able to see the Church’s distinct witness as intelligible and attractive? This question recognizes that communities that don't attempt to speak in a language that the world will understand, engage in her activities and debates, or work within her institutions, will likely remain misunderstood at best, and perhaps even be viewed as laughable or offensive. This question also understands that the Church’s ability to serve neighours in need and share her faith with others depends on a certain amount of legal freedom and institutional space within society. If given the opportunity to work for such protections, Christians can do so not solely for their own benefit but also for those the Church serves outside her walls. In short, if the Church doesn’t risk her own purity in missional engagement, the gospel might remain good news only to those already in the body of Christ, which risks becoming turned in on itself. So which is it: salt or light, model or mission, counter or encounter? Scripture calls the Church to be both. Therefore, we need to remember what each side of this conversation seeks to safeguard. We follow Christ, first and foremost, by living faithfully as members of his body—exercising what some have called “faithful presence” in the world. However, we must always remember that that presence is meant to be outward-focused, pursued not only for the Church’s sake alone but also for the world. We need to avoid the temptation of abandoning our neighbours to deceptive worldviews and perverse social structures. But we also need to avoid losing what makes us distinct, which can only be maintained in a different kind of community.

St. Augustine captured this tension when writing that the Church doesn't annul or abolish the world's "customs, laws, and institutions ... rather, she maintains them and follows them … [and] makes use of the earthly peace and defends and seeks the compromise between human wills … so far as may be permitted without detriment to true religion and piety.” Augustine’s posture is thus one of engaging larger society, but not without qualification. What’s required is discernment to know when, how, and what to engage, and how further engagement will influence the Church. At the point at which it will undermine her distinct witness, Augustine advocates safeguarding the latter.

May we be people of similar motivation and discernment in our age and culture.

Registration is Open for Witherspoon Fellowship 2017!

We are pleased to announce that Year 10-12 students can now register for this year's Witherspoon Fellowship. Hosted by the Millis Institute on 23-24 June, this program offers participants a 2-day course on "leadership through the liberal arts." During this time, emerging leaders take part in Socratic discussions over great texts, debate and public speaking exercises, an Oxford-style formal hall dinner, and ballroom dancing lessons! See here for information on how to register.

Join Dr Messmore for a Discussion of His New Book For readers in both Brisbane and Sydney, don't miss the following opportunities to hear about Dr Messmore's new book, In Love: The Larger Story of Sex and Marriage.

On April 11th, Archbishop Mark Coleridge will join Dr Messmore for a book discussion at St. Stephen's Cathedral in Brisbane. To learn more and register for the Brisbane event, see heresee here.

La La Land—this year’s Oscar winner for Best Picture, at least for about 2 minutes—explores an important question. If you Google the film, the primary synopsis that appears identifies that question as: “what is more important: a once-in-a-lifetime love or the spotlight.”

City of Stars” song suggests, “now our dreams / they’ve finally come true”?In a recent articleIn Love: The Larger Story of Sex and Marriage

You may know him as one of the main “shark” investors on the reality television series Shark Tank. In a recent interview, Bloomberg’s Cory Johnson asked Cuban about how to prepare for success in the future job market.

Johnson: So essentially what you’re making the case for is education and job training for grown ups.

Cuban: No, no. I think that won’t matter. What are you going to go back and learn to do?

Johnson: What it takes, right? Whether it’s finance, whether it’s software programming.

Cuban: No finance. That’s the easiest thing — you just take the data [and] have it spit out whatever you need. I personally think there’s going to be a greater demand in 10 years for liberal arts majors than there were for programming majors and maybe even engineering, because when the data is all being spit out for you, options are being spit out for you, you need a different perspective in order to have a different view of the data. And so having someone who is more of a freer thinker.

Cuban doesn’t mean that it’s not important to focus on specialised fields of knowledge when pursuing a particular career. Rather, he’s identifying the sort of foundational education that comes first—the kind that helps students to think and develop “a different perspective.” In other words, it’s not an either-or (either become a starving philosopher or a high-tech businessman). With the right grounding, students can develop the skills required for success in any field, including STEM-related jobs. Whether it’s in relation to a very particular dream or a general desire for a reliable job, both Maggie Gallagher and Mark Cuban offer important counter-cultural messages. They’re messages about considering a more human-oriented pathway when it comes to pursuing a career ... and human flourishing.

Millis Institute Welcomes 2nd Class

Two weeks ago the Millis Institute celebrated its second Matriculation Ceremony. CHC President Professor Darren Iselin presented members of the incoming class with an academic gown, representing their membership in this academic community. As part of the ceremony, new students also signed their name in the Millis Institute Matriculation Book and were officially welcomed by members of the faculty. Please keep each of these students in your prayers as they begin the formative adventure of a liberal arts education.

On Valentine’s Day, it’s worth pondering which love story exercises the most influence on students today.

St Valentine Baptizing St Lucilla, by Jacopo Bassano

In a week or two, many Australian students will begin their academic year at university. While on campus, they’ll no doubt encounter a set of assumptions—often in the form of an implicit narrative—about the nature of love and sex. Whether this narrative is articulated directly or acquired “under the radar” by simply observing others, it will help to shape expectations about dating, marriage, and romantic relationships. We should care deeply about the particular love story that captures students' imaginations, for nothing has the power to elicit more joy or produce more pain than assumptions about sex and marriage. The romantic narrative that dominates modern culture is primarily about the freedom for individuals to express themselves as they wish. Here love is understood as a feeling of intimacy, and sex is seen as either a form of erotic play or a means of fostering intimate connection. Consequently, marriage is assumed to be based in felt emotional connection; "first comes love, then comes marriage." When saying their vows, some couples now promise marriage "for as long as we both shall love"--i.e., as long as the feeling lasts. According to this narrative, Valentine’s Day celebrates the gushy emotions we experience with Mr or Ms Right (if we’re lucky enough to have found them). But there’s a problem with this story: it doesn’t make sense of what so many people long for and promise each other upon getting married. That is, it cannot explain a marital commitment to unconditional love, exclusivity, permanence, and children. If marriage is based on feelings of love, and if sex expresses those feelings, what happens when a husband or wife “falls in love” with someone else? In that case, what compelling reason does the dominant story provide for staying married? The dominant story also doesn’t account for the conviction held by many Christians against premarital sex. If sex is essentially a means of expressing trust and intimacy, why would two people who feel deeply for each other, and safe with each other, wait until marriage to express it? Students heading to university need a better story.

I've written a new book that attempts to offer one. In Love: The Larger Story of Sex and Marriage (available from Connor Court Publishing and Amazon.com), points to the ancient Jewish betrothal process as providing resources for the way we enter and progress through relationships today. Not only does this story raise questions about the way we approach engagements and weddings, but it also invites couples to situate their own marriages within Christ’s relationship to the church. Have you ever thought about your relationship with God in terms of a divine marriage?

In the book, I explain the influence that this story had on my wife and me:

The Jewish Betrothal Story changed the way we talked (we gave up using phrases like “fall in love” and “love at first sight”). It changed the way we approached our engagement (in college we fasted once a week for our relationship and went through pre-engagement counselling). It changed the way we approached issues of sex (we began rethinking contraception) and it deepened our view of marriage. Most importantly, it broadened our understanding and appreciation of the biblical story and of God’s relationship with His people.

In short, the world of romantic love and sexual ethics looks different when seen through the lens of this narrative. For example, the kind of love that St. Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13 (a.k.a. “the love chapter”) isn’t merely a feeling. It’s an action, not just an attraction. And marriage isn’t based primarily on love as a feeling; it’s anchored, instead, in covenant faithfulness. Thus, rather than "first comes love, then comes marriage," love is an active habit that couples learn by persevering through the ups and downs of married life. And all this has big implications for the way we understand the purpose of sex! What Valentine’s Day celebrates from this perspective is a different vision of love--the kind of love that romantic feelings and sexual urges are meant to point towards: self-giving, life-long covenant union. This is the kind of love God has for us, and spouses are called to reflect it in their marriages. Interestingly, according to some accounts, the third-century Christian priest St. Valentine was martyred upon being caught performing marriage ceremonies against the Emperor’s command. In a culture where boys drew from a box the names of girls for acts of sexual promiscuity, St. Valentine promoted a better and more liberating vision: life-long fidelity to one covenant spouse. Tradition holds that his last letter was written to his jailer’s daughter (whom he healed of blindness), and that he signed it, “from your Valentine.” In a world of confusion and brokenness, we, like St. Valentine, can offer our students a better story—one that's not only beautiful but practical, one that's able to capture their imaginations, and one that points beyond themselves to a larger reality. That’s perhaps one of the best Valentines we can offer!

Today is Epiphany, the day Christians celebrate the Magi visiting the baby Jesus. In modern times we often mark it as a day of taking down the Christmas tree, or perhaps joining figurines of the three wise men to our nativity scenes. In earlier times, however, Epiphany was a very significant and spiritually packed day in the church calendar. But why? What can we take from this “12th Day of Christmas” and what might it have to do with a wedding?

Matthew’s gospel tells us that, “After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, ‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’”

Being led by a star, they came to where the baby Jesus was and “bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh” (Matt 2:1-2, 11). The word "epiphany" comes from the Greek epiphainen meaning “to reveal” or “make known.” When the Magi worship the baby Jesus, his identity is revealed to the Gentiles. But this isn’t the only event revealing Christ’s divinity that was historically celebrated on 6 January. Originally, the church celebrated four different events at Epiphany: 1) the Baptism of the Lord, 2) Christ’s first miracle at the wedding of Cana, 3) the Nativity of Christ, 4) and the visitation of the Magi. That’s right, the birth of Christ used to be celebrated today, on January 6th, but was separated out and moved to December 25th sometime in the first couple centuries of the Common Era. The church also came to celebrate Jesus’ baptism and first miracle on different days, which leaves the visitation of the Magi as the main focus of modern Epiphany observances. It’s interesting, though, to consider the possible relationship between the Magi and the wedding at Cana. The link has to do with the famous gifts they were bearing from afar.

In biblical times, these items were standard gifts with which to honour a king. Gold, a precious metal, is often held to symbolise Jesus’ kingship. Frankincense, an aromatic oil used in incense, is believed to have represented his divinity. Myrrh, a resin used in the ancient world in perfumes and anointing oils—and for embalming mummies—is seen to foretell Jesus’ death.

These valuable gifts are also described in Isaiah 60 as items that would be returned to Jerusalem during her anticipated restoration. Nebuchadnezzar plundered the city and carried off Jerusalem’s treasuries to Babylon in 587 B.C. When the Magi bring these items back to Jerusalem and ultimately to the feet of the baby Jesus, we can interpret this as the beginning of the long-awaited restoration of which Isaiah spoke! But gold, frankincense and myrrh were also items associated with grooms in biblical times. When a typical groom would go to claim his bride, he would wear a crown of gold on his head (if he could afford it), and his wedding garment would be sprinkled with frankincense and myrrh. Thus, when the three wise men present the baby Jesus with these gifts, can we also see within them a symbol of Jesus as the anticipated groom who would unite with his people in a certain kind of marriage? In the Old Testament, Yahweh described his relationship with Israel in marital terms; Isaiah proclaimed, “For your Maker is your husband—the LORD Almighty is his name” (Isaiah 54:5). Interestingly, Jesus refers to himself as “the bridegroom” (Mark 2:19) and seems to take on this identity in his very first miracle of turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana (John 2:1-11). Providing wine for the wedding guests was the responsibility of a Jewish groom. The fact that the church originally celebrated this miracle on Epiphany—the day it commemorated the revelation of Jesus’ identity to the world—should not be lost on us. Next month, I’ll be launching a new book (published by Connor Court) that dives deeper into how ancient Jewish betrothal and wedding imagery illumines the biblical story. My hope is that it points us to the identity of the Christmas baby that we celebrate during this entire season—the King who would restore the City of David, the Groom who would unite himself to the church, the Son of God who is Saviour of the World! Happy Epiphany from the Millis Institute.

Advent is a time of preparation. As the days count down to Christmas, we do well to get ready--mentally, physically, spiritually--to receive the gift of Immanuel: "God with us." In Australia, while people are preparing their hearts for the birth of Christ, students are also waiting, hoping, making decisions and preparing for the future.

But what sort of future? Yogi Berra was an all-star baseball player for the New York Yankees who died last year. (And, yes, the cartoon character Yogi Bear is believed to be named after him.) Berra is also known for his sharp wit and clever one-liners. Here’s a Top Ten list of my favourite Yogi Berra quotes:

10. I'd give my right arm to be ambidextrous. 9. It aint’ over ‘til it’s over. 8. You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six. 7. Nobody goes to that restaurant anymore, it’s too crowded. 6. You can observe a lot by just watching. 5. Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical. 4. Always go to other people’s funerals otherwise they won’t come to yours. 3. It’s déjà vu all over again. 2. When you come to a fork in the road, take it. 1. The future ain’t what it used to be.

In this season of preparation, it’s worth thinking seriously about the kind of future for which students should be preparing. It ain’t what it used to be. To find out how a liberal arts education at the Millis Institute can broaden your options (and shape you as a thinker), see details about CHC's Next Steps event below.

Make a Difference for a Millis Student

In this season of giving, would you like to help a student strategically prepare for the future?

The Millis Institute does not receive government funding, which means we rely on the generosity of individuals who value this unique kind of Christian education. We're seeking partners who are willing to invest in the lives of young people studying at the Institute.

A gift of $25-$50 can help us buy books or continue special traditions like hosting a lecture series and regular “formal hall” dinners.A gift of $250 or more can help make a liberal arts education more affordable for students in need.A special gift of any amount can also help a deserving student participate in a 5-week intensive at Oxford. (We have students who would like to represent the Millis Institute at Oxford, but who cannot afford this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.)

May I ask you to consider joining with us by making a tax-deductible gift to the Millis Institute? You can give quickly and easily online here. We greatly appreciate any support you can provide.

Last week the Millis Institute held its first annual Liberal Arts Revue. Donning our academic gowns, we ate together, enjoyed the musical talents of several students, and ended the evening with ballroom dancing. A highlight of the event was a trivia competition designed by two students, with questions from each of the academic units offered this year. (Can you name Dante’s three guides in The Divine Comedy, or the French term for a medieval lyric poet or traveling singer, or what common sports object has the shape of a truncated icosahedron?) (Find answers at the bottom of this issue.) What follows are the abbreviated remarks I gave during the dinner, remembering and celebrating what has unfolded over the past 10 months.

learn in wartime,” and with Dorothy Sayers we recovered “the lost tools of learning

Students and staff swing dance during the first Millis Institute Liberal Arts Revue Dinner and Dance.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the first year—Chapter One—of the Millis Institute has come to a close. I can’t wait to read what’s on the next page in 2017!

Staff and students of the Millis Institute, 2016

Trivia answers: Beatrice, Virgil, and St. Bernard; troubadour or jongleur; soccer ball.

Last week Millis Institute students joined their voices in song. They were neither attending a rock concert nor participating in a church service. Instead, these young people were in class, seeking knowledge.

Our society tends to view knowledge as synonymous with analytical reasoning. It’s commonly assumed that there is only one way to know things—the kind of knowing provided by maths and science. We privilege what we consider to be scientific knowledge, limiting the realm of the knowable to the empirical and quantifiable.

But this is a rather modern—and distorted—view of knowledge. Thomas Aquinas spoke of another kind, which he called “poetic knowledge.” He didn’t mean knowledge about poetry; rather, he was referring to a poetic experience of reality. (James S. Taylor describes this more in his aptly named book Poetic Knowledgeas Robin Williams’ character in Dead Poets Society insists, the quality of a particular sonnet can be better grasped with a well-nourished imagination than a numbered graph.

Just as there are truths that can be known poetically, I would suggest that there are truths that can be known musically. That is, the arrangement of sound has power to convey certain meaning—to evoke in us a sense, insight or reaction that we may not otherwise experience. For me, C.S. Lewis powerfully captures the beautiful truth of creation in The Magician’s Nephew by having Aslan sing Narnia into existence. It seems very fitting that such a significant, creative, and joyous event would be engaged not only with the eyes but also the ears and one's whole being!

Music is a distinct way of knowing. In fact, Plato thought that “the patterns in music … are the keys to learning.” What does music help us to know, learn, or experience? Among other things: a sense of order. “Order in movement is called rhythm,” notes Plato, “order in articulation ... pitch [harmonia], and the name for the combination of the two is choric art.” This is one reason why our students study music, which is one of the 7 original liberal arts. They are training their minds and bodies to sense and appreciate order, which is a training in living well. As the Cabby listening to Aslan create Narnia exclaims, “Glory be! I’d have been a better man all my life if I’d known there were things like this!”

Final Thoughts

During a U.S. election season that has made global headlines, I’ve avoided making political comments in The Pillar. However, since I’ve already mentioned The Magician’s Nephew…

…I can’t help but recall a scene from the book. Digory and Polly, who have travelled to the land of Charn, find themselves in a Hall of Images looking at a long row of figures. Wearing magnificent robes and crowns on their heads, these are the past rulers of Charn. Lewis describes the scene:

You could walk down and look at the faces in turn. … All the faces they could see were certainly nice. Both the men and women looked kind and wise, and they seemed to come of a handsome race. But after the children had gone a few steps down the room they came to faces that looked a little different. These were very solemn faces. You felt you would have to mind your P’s and Q’s, if you ever met any living people who looked like that. When they had gone a little further, they found themselves among faces they didn’t like: this was about the middle of the room. The faces here looked very strong and proud and happy, but they looked cruel. A little further on they looked crueller. Further on again, they were still cruel but they no longer looked happy. They were even despairing faces: as if the people they belonged to had done dreadful things and also suffered dreadful things. The last figure of all was the most interesting – a woman even more richly dressed than the others, very tall, with a look of such fierceness and pride that it took your breath away... This woman, as I said, was the last: but there were plenty of empty chairs beyond her, as if the room had been intended for a much larger collection of images.

I intend to make a connection between this passage and no particular person—only with the nature of human political institutions in general. As Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity:

That is the key to history. Terrific energy is expended—civilisations are built up—excellent institutions devised; but each time something goes wrong. Some fatal flaw always brings the selfish and cruel people to the top and it all slides back into misery and ruin. In fact, the machine conks. It seems to start up all right and runs a few yards, and then it breaks down.

Our civilisation needs initiatives that can train up well-rounded, thoughtful, virtuous leaders! Find out more about the Millis Institute here.

Three economics professors at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point recently studied the use of electronic devices in their classroom. They divided their students into three sections:

the first section was prohibited from using any electronic devices,the second section was allowed to use any laptop or tablet,the third section was allowed only devices that lay flat on the desk so that professors could monitor them.

The students in the technology-free section performed academically better than students in the other two. Such results point to the important relationship between what students learn and the way they learn it. In other words, the medium affects the message. Changing the former influences our experience of the latter. This relationship often goes unnoticed, but there’s plenty of evidence in our everyday lives that some forms are less appropriate than others for delivering certain content.Dinner Date

You’re a young man hoping to impress a romantic interest ... or a grateful husband celebrating your 25th wedding anniversary. Do you take your girlfriend or wife to McDonald's?

Those who answer “no” probably don’t base their decision solely on the content (the food). They also sense that the goal of such a dinner doesn’t fit with the way food is experienced at McDonald's—that is, it’s form. (After all, if you called ahead and arranged for Maccas to bring in filet mignon and crème brûlée from a five-star chef—would that change your answer?)Music You’re a church music director arranging a song about the heartbreak of Jesus’ followers and mother during his crucifixion. Do you set it to a fast, upbeat tempo? Or does some content simply not lend itself to being conveyed through certain musical styles?

If you're unsure, check out the striking results when guests on the show “I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue” sing familiar songs to different tunes. My favourite is “Meet the Flintstones” sung to Sinatra’s “My Way”! (Listen and see if you process the words any differently.)

Political Debate You’re an undecided voter trying to determine which party’s policies are better for the country. Are you helped much by the modern format of televised debates—one that allows candidates only 2 minutes to explain their positions (if they can speak louder than their interrupting opponent)? It seems that this form is more suitable to a personality or public relations competition than a policy debate. In fact, ask yourself what counts as “winning” a modern televised debate—explaining positions in a more logical way than your opponent or looking more confident and committing less gaffes? Does the form encourage the viewing audience to seek knowledge or entertainment? These are only a few examples demonstrating Marshall McLuhan’s point that “the medium is the message.” Sadly, though, many people fail to attend critically to the inherent power of a particular medium. Well-meaning Christians, for example, can focus so much on the content of a movie or TV show (how many curse words or sex scenes?) that they ignore the influence the form itself might have.

(The Christian Broadcasting Network once created a Christian soap opera called Another Life which essentially copied the genre—camera angles, music, etc.—but substituted Christian characters talking about the importance of their faith when facing crises!)

The same is true in education. We need to pay attention not only to the material students learn but also the medium through which they learn it. As the educational reformer John Dewey argued, the content of a lesson is not necessarily the most important thing about learning:

Perhaps the greatest of all pedagogical fallacies is the notion that a person learns only the particular thing he is studying at the time. Collateral learning in the way of formation of enduring attitudes, of likes and dislikes, may be and often is more important than the spelling lesson or lesson in geography or history that is learned. For these attitudes are fundamentally what count in the future.

We need to explore how the medium through which students receive information subtly forms them. What sort of habits do students develop when they sit through a lecture compared with engaging in a Socratic conversation? What are they taught to appreciate in a secular vs faith-based environment? What sort of attitudes and expectations do they form when they stare at a screen rather than observing the facial expressions of their teacher and peers? The students at West Point mastered their economics material better when taking notes by hand. “Changing their tune,” so to speak, affected how they processed the words. Their learning was formed by their form of learning.

Institute Students Look to the Stars

Astronomy is one of the original 7 liberal arts. Through its study we not only engage questions about the degree to which we can trust our eyesight (it looks like the sun moves around the earth!) but also discern beautiful patterns in the cosmos. That's why members of the Science & Astronomy class at the Millis Institute recently visited the Brisbane Planetarium. The capable staff walked our students through a specially-tailored presentation explaining the nature of stars, the motion of planets, and the sun's apparent change of location in different seasons.

Last week I read a newspaper article

In 2009 Captain Chelsey “Sully” Sullenberger took off from LaGuardia Airport in New York. Minutes later his Airbus A320 plane hit a flock of geese and lost thrust in both engines. The outcome is well-known: Sully guided the plane to a safe water landing and everyone on board survived. What the movie explores is the subsequent investigation into his decision-making. Why didn't he try returning to LaGuardia? Why didn’t he head toward another airport only 7 miles away? Why didn’t he run all the emergency procedures before deciding to ditch a multi-million-dollar airplane in the river? In one scene, investigators tell him that the information recovered from the flight data recorder shows that one engine was still working and could have made the return flight to LaGuardia. Not one but two real-time simulations showed that the plane could have landed not only at the New York airport but also at one in New Jersey. In response to this machine-driven data, Sully makes one simple point in his defense: you cannot exclude “the human factor.” Without revealing anything further about the movie, Sully’s character refers to a kind of knowledge that mere data can’t provide. Some scholars call it “personal knowledge”—a tacit way of sensing that can’t be verbalised or captured in mathematical models. Most of us would call it intuition. It is a kind of knowledge that Sully developed over decades of experience and upon which he relied in a crisis more than written protocols or computer formulas. This isn’t to say that instrument-calculated knowledge--the kind many associate with STEM fields (Science, Technology, Engineering, Maths)--isn't important, nor that Sully disregarded numerical data. Clearly not. But the movie reminds us that it is not the only form of knowledge. There are additional, more personal ways of knowing than just the scientific, and a successful career—and life—can depend on taking them seriously. Moreover, such 'personal knowledge' can be cultivated and improved through experience and study. A good, foundational education, therefore, will seek not just to develop students' quantitative reasoning skills but also to develop their imagination and intuition (through the study of great literature, for example). When it comes to choosing an educational pathway, it seems that many students and their parents have forgotten these truths. As one university official notes in the aforementioned article, parents often steer their children toward STEM majors because they “are more interested than ever in the direct path between a degree program and a first job, and the eventual salary associated with that degree. … What parents are thinking about is return on investment.”

That’s why when Harvard University professor Jill Lepore hosted an info session at her home for students interested in history and literature, one student “kept getting text messages from her parents ordering her to leave the meeting immediately.”

According to Steven Pearlstein, however, when it comes to specialising in a discipline at university,

the original rationale for majors was not to train students for careers. Rather, the idea was that after a period of broad intellectual exploration, a major was supposed to give students the experience of mastering one subject, in the process developing skills such as discipline, persistence, and how to research, analyze, communicate clearly and think logically.

In other words, the goal of specialising in one academic field was not necessarily a job but a set of thinking skills--an array of different ways of knowing--capacities which are anchored in a broad education and then honed through a specialised focus.

As it happens, those are precisely the skills business executives still say they want from college graduates … A study for the Association of American Colleges and Universities found that 93 percent of employers agreed that a “demonstrated capacity to think critically, communicate clearly, and solve complex problems is more important than [a job candidate’s] undergraduate major."

The ability to solve complex problems. That’s certainly the situation in which Sully found himself 2,000 feet above one of the most populated areas on the planet with no working engines. Fortunately, this former president of his high school Latin club and first chair flautist did not ignore the importance of “the human factor.” And what about the parents of the 155 people on board that infamous flight? I bet they’re very glad that the knowledge of its pilot wasn’t limited to the kind provided by STEM.

Watch CHC Research Symposium Keynote on the Trinity and Enchanted Learning

In issue 33 of The Pillar, we encouraged readers to watch James K A Smith's opening keynote address at the recent CHC Research Symposium. To view the other keynote, delivered by Dr Ryan Messmore and entitled "The Trinity, Love, and Higher Education: Recovering Communities of Enchanted Learning," click here.

Reading Further...

We couldn’t resist quoting a bit more from the article “Meet the parents who won’t let their children study literature”:

studystudy found that only 27 percent of people have jobs that are substantially related to their college majors — a reality that applies even to the STEM fields.

Having made that critique, Steven Pearlstein advocates what sort of education many students not only resonate with but will also benefit from in the future job market...and it has to do with 'the human factor':

In today’s fast-changing global economy, the most successful enterprises aren’t looking for workers who know a lot about only one thing. They are seeking employees who are nimble, curious and innovative. The work done by lower-level accountants, computer programmers, engineers, lawyers and financial analysts is already being outsourced to India and the Philippines; soon it will be done by computers. The good jobs of the future will go to those who can collaborate widely, think broadly and challenge conventional wisdom — precisely the capacities that a liberal arts education is meant to develop.

“Few people understand that or grew up with that; we’ll lose them if we ask them to change. To make people comfortable, let’s provide them with what they're more familiar with.” In which of the following scenarios (if any) would it make sense to say the line above?

A) A tennis camp deciding whether to teach a “continental” grip for serving or to allow beginners to hold the racquet however they want B) An educational institution deciding whether to make some crucial yet challenging units “core” or “elective” C) A church deciding whether to initiate congregation members into a traditional liturgy or to offer a worship experience more in fashion with the current culture.

Most people would probably sense that tennis coaches should teach proven techniques rather than letting beginners do whatever feels natural. I clearly remember the first time I was taught to serve by someone who knew what they were doing. It was very awkward. I found the recommended grip and foot placement uncomfortable, the language was unfamiliar (what is a “continental” grip, anyway?), and I didn’t understand why my coach insisted that I do it that way. “Stick with it,” he said; “it will make you a better player.”

As a beginner, I didn’t know what was best for me, but my coach did. Fortunately, I submitted to his authority, and the more I practiced the new grip and stance, the more I came to realise why they were effective … and the better I became. In short, tennis is the kind of activity in which doing well requires training. We come to appreciate it more, not by remaining at our present capacity or comfort level, but by growing our capacity, so that we can achieve a level of joy that we couldn’t when we started. It is a joy won through endurance. Can we not say the same thing about education and Christianity (options B and C above)? Can their goals and goods be understood and appreciated in the same way by everyone, regardless of their level of training? Just like tennis, I clearly remember the first time I was given the opportunity to study Latin. I was in high school, and I found this dead language very awkward and uncomfortable. I wanted to be entertained in class, not to struggle through something that I considered irrelevant. I promptly chose another “elective” subject instead, because I thought it would be easier and therefore more enjoyable.

How I wish an educational coach had exercised some authority by telling me, “Stick with it; it will make you a better thinker”! And how I wish I had submitted to that sort of authority rather than to my own poorly-formed sensibilities.

In a similar vein, you may clearly remember a time you experienced a new church liturgy—perhaps with different rituals or phrases than you were used to. If we attend a worship service for the first time and feel uncomfortable with certain musical styles, or we don’t see the point of certain practices, should we immediately go somewhere else that better suits our present tastes? By the same token, should that church allow its forms of worship to be determined by the sensibilities of those new to the Christian walk, or should it exercise some authority and say, “Stick with it; it will form you in certain ways and help you appreciate certain things better”? I think that tennis, education and the Christian walk share something in common: excelling in them requires a process of patient training, which often starts out uncomfortable and seemingly unproductive. These activities have a goal that doesn’t come naturally to most novices. Growing in these crafts requires learning certain words and phrases, performing certain actions until they become habits, submitting to the authority of a coach, and discerning standards of excellence within a particular tradition. (And, unlike television, their purpose isn’t to entertain!)

This isn’t to say that coaches, teachers and church leaders shouldn’t try to connect with people “where they are” as beginners; rather, it’s to note that the goal isn’t to have them remain as they are but to help them change. The goal isn’t comfort, it’s growth. Ironically, it’s the latter that brings hard-won joy. For the joy which lay ahead of him, he endured... (Heb. 12:12).

At the Millis Institute, we view the path to wisdom as a craft. This means that we encourage our students to see themselves not as entertainment consumers but as apprentices (those desiring to become, through hours of training, like a master). As a result, we don't allow them to set their own curricula. Except for a few electives, we require our students to take certain proven, time-tested subjects—even uncomfortable ones like logic, geometry and astronomy—whether they want to or not. We do this because we believe that grappling with these subjects will help them think more like masters (such as Socrates, Euclid and Einstein) and better achieve the purposes of education. And we think that as their capacity to achieve these purposes increases, so will the joy they find in it. It’s a joy won through endurance.

Watch James K A Smith's Symposium Keynote Address

Last month CHC hosted its inaugural Research Symposium. Entitled Learning and Loves, the event featured presenters from 34 institutions and 6 countries. Click here or on the image above to watch Dr James K A Smith deliver the Opening Keynote: "Higher Education: What's Love Got to Do With It?"

Millis Student Shares Stories of Oxford

What did you do this winter? Kim Noronha, a bachelor's degree student at the Institute, participated in a five-week study abroad program at Oxford. At our first formal hall of the semester, Kim gave a presentation about this life-changing experience. Combining photos and personal stories, she recounted her travels to Stonehenge, Bath, Canterbury and other sites around England, along with wonderful memories of the "City of Spires" itself. During her time at Oxford, Kim studied two units that transfer credit back to the Millis Institute: "The Intellect and Imagination of C.S. Lewis" and "Faith and Reason During the British Enlightenment." See here to find out more about this study abroad opportunity.

Cheering when our team wins an Olympic event.

Fretting over the choices for national political office.

Contemplating the “good news” of the Gospel.

Each of these activities reveals something about who we are as a people and who (or what) we identify with. Each of these events also relies on a very significant dynamic: representation. In his book Common Objects of Love, Oliver O’Donovan describes it in terms of one thing signifying another thing or one person acting on behalf of another.

Last August I mentioned an instance of this dynamic in Pillar Issue 9 about Maximilian Kolbe, the priest who, while imprisoned at the German death camp of Auschwitz 75 years ago, volunteered to die in the place of a fellow prisoner. But this ability for one to act in place of—to achieve something on behalf of—another applies not just to individuals but also to communities and nations.

We get a glimpse of this with the Olympics. Most athletes not only compete as individuals, but also as representatives of their home country. In some sense those of us watching and cheering from home see ourselves in these athletes and thus invest ourselves to some small degree in their competitions. We check the updates to see how our country is doing in the medal count, and we feel victorious upon hearing the national anthem play after one of “our” athletes wins gold.

While being interviewed earlier this week after his team won the 4x100 freestyle relay, swimmer Michael Phelps said, “We wanted to bring that relay back to American soil.” These are the words of a soldier who has battled other countries and achieved something for his nation!

This dynamic of “one acting on behalf of others” is even more pronounced when it comes to political leaders. When public authorities act or make decisions, they do so embodying the identity of their citizens; people act and make decisions through their political representatives. For example, when the prime minister signs a treaty, he/she signs that treaty on behalf of the nation as a whole; it is the country that enters into a treaty, but it does so through the actions of its representative. This is one reason why it’s so important, especially in democratic societies, for citizens to see themselves reflected in their representatives. Effective political leaders are able to re-present a people’s image back to themselves. When we see something of ourselves in our government officials, we are often more comfortable standing under their authority; we more readily sense that we're choosing to place certain laws or regulations on ourselves. According to O'Donovan, leaders with legitimate authority (rather than mere power), are able to reflect not just the will of the people but also their identity. This explains why savvy politicians go to great lengths to be seen to “identify with” their constituents—i.e. to be seen eating the same foods, wearing the same clothes, speaking the same language and attending the same fairs/parades/celebrations.

(Note the amount of press devoted to the $138 dress that Ivanka Trump wore at the Republican National Convention compared to the $12,000+ jacket that Hillary Clinton wore during a speech several months earlier … framed in terms of who is more “relatable” to the average person.)

This also explains why citizens have reason to be concerned for their country based upon the candidates nominated for the national ballot—something very troubling about a culture can be revealed in who its citizens identify with or see themselves reflected in!

This “one on behalf of another” dynamic lies at the heart of the biblical story. In fact, the central character achieves what he achieves by fulfilling a role of double representation. Jesus is held to be fully divine, so he can fully represent God to man. God definitively acts to judge and redeem His creation through His own word, His own representative. Likewise, Jesus is held to be fully human and to identify with us in our humanity, so he can fully represent us before the Father. Jesus calls for faithfulness on behalf of the Father, and he provides that faithfulness on behalf of his people. “One acting on behalf of another” underpins the Gospel’s logic.

We can see one reason why events like the Olympics and political campaigns evoke such deep passion. These are events that reveal, in different ways and in different degrees, the dynamic of representation, of a person (or team) acting on behalf of another. These are significant events, for they are bound up with who we understand ourselves to be—they have power to unite us or to mirror back to us our divisions as a people. Our deepest identity, however, should lie not in a country represented by athletes or politicians but in the one who took on human flesh to share his divine sonship. May we identify most closely with him, so that we may experience what he achieved on our behalf.

Institute Hosts 2nd Path to Wisdom Workshop for Secondary Students

The Millis Institute recently hosted its second workshop of the Path to Wisdom, an academic program designed to initiate secondary school students deeper into the liberal arts. Over 200 students participated, representing Citipointe Christian College, Northside Christian College, Nambour Christian College and Brisbane Christian College. Year 7-10 students focused on the liberal art of Grammar, while Year 11-12 students discussed Moral Philosophy (Aristotle's ethics, in particular). During this 3-hour, interactive session, students engaged in reading selected texts, discussing significant moral issues in modern culture, and honing their grammar and writing skills. For example, to help identify the difference between active and passive voice, students were challenged to change these altered (passive) song lyrics back into their original (active) version. How many can you get right?: The moves like Jagger are got by me Getting back together is never (ever, ever) done by us To hold your hand is wanted by me A ring better be put on it if you like it Oops, it was done by me again May what you want (what you really, really want) be told to me A dream of time gone by was dreamed by me

Hamilton and Liberal Arts

Broadway seems to have really identified with Hamilton. This hip-hop opera recently won the Tony Award for Best Musical. Given the liberal arts education that its creator Lin-Manuel Miranda received, Michael Roth (President of Wesleyan University) says that “we should have seen something like this coming”:

Hamilton is an extraordinary artistic achievement at once traditional and experimental. That’s the kind of synthesis that those of us working in liberal arts colleges are always hoping for: making the past come alive in ways that expand possibilities in the present.

In Hamilton, Manuel uniquely re-imagines for contemporary citizens the proverbial ‘dead white men’, and Roth attributes this ability to the educational path the young actor travelled as an undergraduate. He also draws interesting parallels between Manuel’s education and the kind students received during Hamilton’s own day:

When Alexander Hamilton’s generation considered higher education, many believed it was crucial that students not think they already knew at the beginning of their studies where they would end up when it was time for graduation … learning was all about exploration - and you would only make important discoveries if you were open to unexpected possibilities.

“How can we justify reading books and studying when there are people out there who haven’t been saved?”

This question was posed by one of my students about 12 years ago, but it’s been asked in various forms for centuries. The early-church father Tertullian inquired, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” In other words, what’s the relationship between Greek philosophy and Judeo-Christian faith?

Another way to put it is: What’s the relationship between schools and universities on the one hand, and local church congregations on the other? C.S. Lewis posed a similar question to a group of Oxford students at the start of World War II:

How is it right for creatures who are every moment advancing either to Heaven or to hell to spend any fraction of the little time allowed them in this world on such comparative trivialities as literature or art, mathematics or biology. ... How can you be so frivolous and selfish as to think about anything but the salvation of human souls?

How would you respond to his question? Lewis’ answer was based in a conviction that faith, rather than opposing reason, actually complements it as a means of pursuing truth. He thus avoided the notion that what God desires is not thoughtful discernment but blind devotion. In his classic book Mere Christianity, Lewis writes, “Faith, in the sense in which I am here using the word, is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods.” Notice that what Lewis pits against faith is not reason but “changing moods” brought on by attitudes like fear and insecurity. In “Learing in War-Time,” Lewis directly responded to his own question: one way to love our neighbour is to cultivate discernment, through study, of false and dangerous habits of thinking and living. Without such discernment, we

betray our uneducated brethren who have, under God, no defence but us against the intellectual attacks of the heathen. Good philosophy must exist, if for no other reason, because bad philosophy needs to be answered.

Lewis also critiqued the idea that we should divide up life into “sacred” and “secular” activities, devoting ourselves only to the former. God created us not only with a spiritual dimension but also with an intellectual and aesthetic dimension; those dimensions reflect something about his own wisdom and beauty, and He wants them to be cultivated. As Lewis argues,

If you attempted ... to suspend your whole intellectual and aesthetic activity, you would only succeed in substituting a worse cultural life for a better. You are not, in fact, going to read nothing ... if you don’t read good books, you will read bad ones. If you don’t go on thinking rationally, you will think irrationally. If you reject aesthetic satisfactions, you will fall into sensual satisfactions.

Thus, although it sounds holy, Lewis insists that God did not intend for religion to “exclude any of the ordinary human activities.” Instead, God’s call is to engage in all the natural activities that constitute human flourishing, but to pursue them in a different spirit.

A friend once suggested the following thought experiment: “Imagine that the church’s outreach efforts were miraculously successful and every person on earth became a Christian next Tuesday. What would God want us to do on Wednesday?”

A worldview that limits “sacred” work to things like preaching, mission trips, and “saving souls” might have trouble answering this. In contrast, Lewis’ answer is that God would want us to continue to engage in the same sort of activities He has called us to pursue now—growing crops, educating children, building bridges, creating music, cooking food, playing sports, and, yes, reading books and studying. The answer is not to stop pursuing the learned life because God cares about other goods and goals. He created the intellect for a good purpose—He loves it! Rather, as Lewis declares, the answer is "whatsoever you do, do all things to the glory of God”—i.e. pursue education as a way of “advancing to the vision of God” ourselves and helping others do the same. Athens and Jerusalem are not opposing destinations; educational institutions and churches should work together and support each other in the joint task of forming people and promoting shalom.

The Millis Institute Celebrates Its Official Launch!

On Monday the Millis Institute celebrated it's launch with a wonderful evening at Tattersall's Club in downtown Brisbane. We were honoured to have Dr. James K. A. Smith, noted author and professor at Calvin College in Michigan, as our keynote speaker. Smith told how his own daughter never would have discovered her present passion and pathway without the subjects to which she was introduced through her liberal arts education. We were also blessed to have several of our students speak at this event and to have good friends provide beautiful music. I would sincerely like to thank all those who attended this celebration and contributed to the cause!

Congratulations, Dr. Benson!

Today a very important member of the Millis Institute team receives his doctorate at the University of Queensland. Dr David Benson, who teaches philosophy at the Institute and assists with many Institute programs, such as the Witherspoon Fellowship and the Path to Wisdom, has successfully completed his dissertation in practical theology. His research focused on the role of Sacred Texts within the Australian public education curriculum. Kudos to Dr Benson on his special day!

This issue of The Pillar is about one sentence—a long, tough sentence—a sentence by a convict that is very convicting. It’s a sentence that emerging leaders studied this past weekend at The Witherspoon Fellowship. While global headlines spoke of political turmoil and financial uncertainty, in Brisbane a number of Year 10-12 students were cultivating skills of effective leadership. These emerging leaders engaged in Socratic discussions, a rapid-fire debate competition (aka “speed debating”), an Oxford-style formal hall, and ballroom dancing. And, once again, participants did battle in a public speaking competition in the role of either a coach delivering a half-time pep talk or a courtier wooing a princess! The goal in all these activities was to hone—albeit indirectly—skills that are important for leadership.

Scenes from this past weekend's Witherspoon Fellowship, attended by representatives from 15 different Queensland schools.

One of those skills is effective writing, which led us to examine Martin Luther King, Jr’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. One point we emphasized is that good writing appeals to ethos, pathos and logos—that is, to moral conscience and the emotions as well as to logical reasoning. MLK, Jr.’s Letter incorporates all three: he appeals to logos when distinguishing between just and unjust laws, to ethos when citing moral authorities like Jesus, St. Paul, and Abraham Lincoln, and to pathos when articulating the pain of racism in segregated 1960s America. Another point we discussed with emerging leaders was the ability to convey profound ideas in short, simple statements. A case in point is King’s famous line “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Part of what makes this statement so memorable is its brevity.

What, then, should we make of another line that follows shortly thereafter, totalling 318 words! This laborious single sentence follows the observation that “Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging dart of segregation to say, ‘Wait.’” King then describes in very personal terms what it’s like to be disrespected, excluded and abused because of skin colour … but he keeps the description going on and on and on. In other words, to convey what it feels like to wait for so long, King writes a sentence that forces his readers to do exactly that: to wait for resolution! He masterfully combines form and content precisely by writing a sentence that is unusually lengthy … and tough … and uncomfortable.

(You can read the entire Letter here

People sitting in many rows of seats stand and raise their hands in the air, expressing enthusiasm in gesture and song. This is liturgical action; but it isn't limited to a congregation during Sunday worship.

It can also describe an eager kindy class chanting their alphabet or an excited sports crowd cheering on their team. Each group nevertheless engages in a liturgy. A liturgy is simply a regular pattern of practice, and we engage in them all the time.

If you go to a baseball game in the United States, you’ll participate in a very distinctive liturgy. The crowd cheers together, claps in rhythm, and coordinates standing at just the right time to complete a “wave” around the stadium.

This liturgical fanfare reaches a high point, though, during the “7th Inning Stretch.” At this moment, everyone rises to their feet, stretches, and sings “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” (See herePresident Obama's various visits to burger joints or Tony Abbott's chomping on a raw onion.)

In fact, serving someone food can be a tangible way of showing care. The word “companion,” meaning friend, comes from the Latin words com- (with) and panis (bread); a companion is literally one who breaks bread with another. We see the importance of this throughout Scripture in episodes where the Lord provides bread to establish communion with his people. It isn’t surprising, then, that at the heart of many Christian liturgies is the breaking and sharing of bread. Educational institutions also have liturgies, and these liturgies can serve as subtle yet powerful teachers. The rules and rhythms and rituals that occur regularly in a classroom are far from neutral; they shape students’ desires at a subconscious level. According to James K. A. Smith, Christian education as well as Christian discipleship are about “not only the acquisition of a worldview but also the inhabitation of a sensibility.” And our sensibilities are formed through “rhythms and habit-forming routines”—routines that subtlety shape our imaginations because they carry within them a notion of the good life. In other words, teachers should not just ask, “how can I transmit knowledge of my subject” but “how do the liturgies of my classroom shape the habits and desires of my students?”

At the Millis Institute, one liturgy that our students engage in is formal hall. During these Oxford-style dinners (at which academic gowns are worn), our students not only enjoy good food, but they practice serving it to each other.

The conversation is also designed intentionally to form good habits. At our most recent formal hall, the two sides of the table had to argue the affirmative and negative of The Beatles’ claim that all you need is love. And they had to do so in character as one of the authors they’ve studied this semester (e.g. Socrates and C. S. Lewis … even Bono and Donald Trump made surprise appearances in the debate!). Good thinking and learning are habits, and like most habits, they can be strengthened through the right liturgies. (To hear James K. A. Smith talk more about this idea in person, see the notice below about his visit to CHC in July.)

For our educational ancestors, a good education started not with reading and writing, but with gymnastics and music.

They understood that education aims at the formation of the whole person—mind, soul and body. A full-orbed education therefore strives to develop physical disciplines alongside intellectual and moral virtues.

Indeed, in ancient Greece, gymnastics was seen as formative preparation for academic study. The self-control, mental focus, and perseverance-through-difficulty learned on the athletic field is essential for success in the classroom as well. Likewise, music is instrumental (no pun intended) for forming young students. In particular, Plato insisted that music is able to tune the soul (okay, that one was intended!). Because music has the power to develop intuition and imagination even at a young age, Aristotle held that it cultivates the capacity to discern what’s true and good—bringing the student into harmony with the created moral order. (Okay, I’ll stop.)

At the Witherspoon Fellowship, we’ve brought together these two ancient forms of education — gymnastics and music — into dancing. The goal of this 2-day gathering of Year 10-12 students is to cultivate “leadership through the liberal arts”—that is, to inspire within participants invaluable habits of leadership through engagement with the liberal arts.

That’s why we not only read and discuss the works of Socrates and C.S. Lewis and involve students in creative debating and public speaking exercises, but we also teach them to dance. But not just any dancing. Renowned philosopher Roger Scruton draws a distinction between people “dancing at” each other and “dancing with” each other:

The decay of manners that we have seen in recent times is to a large extent a result of the loss of withness and the rise of atness in its stead. Rudeness, obscenity, the ‘in your face’ manners of the new TV presenter – all these are ways of being ‘at’ other people. Courtesy, manners, negotiation and deference are, by contrast, ways of being with.”

In an interview

In Good Company

We were delighted to see a recent article published by Natalie Kennedy in Words’Worth (the journal of the English Teachers Association of Queensland). Kennedy is a friend of the Millis Institute and a teacher at Northside Christian College, and her piece entitled “An Essay that Sparked an Educational Renaissance” is worth reading. She begins by noting that Dorothy Sayers—the first woman to receive a degree from Oxford—bemoaned in 1947 that

modern students were supposedly free-thinking but were not able to question; they were more literate than ever but weren’t reading; they were becoming mindless consumers of everything from soda to sex and weren’t remembering much of anything.

Kennedy then articulates how Sayers’ essay The Lost Tools of Learning has influenced an entire movement in America and beyond to return to a classical liberal arts education. We’re humbled that the Millis Institute is mentioned in the article as an example of how this approach to learning has found its way to Brisbane. The article can be found here.

Legend holds that some very challenging exam questions have received some quite brilliant answers. For example, one exam asked students to use their philosophical skills to disprove the existence of a chair placed at the front of the room. While many students began to unpack profound theories, one simply wrote, “What chair?” Another exam asked, “What is courage?” A student supposedly turned in a paper completely blank except for the words, “This is.” Oxford students recite the tale of one philosophy exam asking, “Is this a question?” ... to which one student is said to have written in response, “Yes, if this is an answer.” That’s a very simple and obvious thing about the nature of questions: they call forth answers. As one Stanford University physicist has discovered, this truth has important implications for education.

Nobel Laureate Carl Wieman gave up delivering lectures to his physics classes years ago. He opted instead to have his students work through questions in small groups. Compared to passively receiving information in a lecture, Wieman believes that questioning is both a more active and effective form of learning.

From a recent National Public Radio interview with Wieman:

... so far, the data on the effectiveness of active learning techniques - coaching students to be engaged co-pilots in the quest for knowledge - is so convincing it's almost unethical to teach undergraduates any other way. Studies show students taught this way more deeply understood the material. Grades improved 20 percent. Attendance dramatically improved. And course failure rates dropped by almost a third.

When it comes to education, what makes questions so effective? What did Socrates know so long ago that modern research is now confirming? The answer is brought into relief by comparing two different notions about education: one has to do with imparting new knowledge to students; the other has to do with leading students from what they already know to new insights and understandings. Simply put, the former pours knowledge in while the latter draws knowledge out. Interestingly, the root of the word “education” comes from the Latin ex ducere, meaning “to bring or lead out.” In other words, education (traditionally understood) doesn’t start with the student’s cranium conceived as a blank slate or an empty pail. Instead, it seeks to draw out of the student whatever understanding she may already have, make it explicit, and then use it to lead her to logical conclusions. And how can we find out what students already understand? Ask them questions. That’s why at the Millis Institute we rely on questions more than lectures to guide students to the truth. A typical class entails a tutor posing a key question to the group, often drawn from questions that the students themselves submit ahead of time. This helps to ground the path to wisdom in the assumptions they already hold about a topic, in the terms in which they already understand it. As they set out to see where these assumptions lead, they often find that they need to correct some ideas and adopt different terms; but the understanding that results tends to be deeper than if they had just been lectured at. Questions have the uncanny ability to draw forth answers, and thus they form the first step of a pedagogy focused not merely on depositing facts but fostering discovery.

Last week some of our Millis Institute students served at an event featuring Eric Metaxas, best-selling author of books about William Wilberforce and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Hosted by the Australian Christian Lobby, Mr Metaxas spoke about the need for courage in engaging issues of culture, family, education and science from a Christian worldview perspective. I was very proud of the way these students represented the Millis Institute!

Phase 1 of The Pillar: Foundations (Issues 1-11) explored the key convictions and commitments undergirding the Millis Institute. Phase 2: Explorations (Issues 12-25) examined the educational terrain we cover, from grammar and logic, to geometry and music, to literature and theology. With Issue 26, we're excited to launch Phase 3: Formation, addressing how we actively and intentionally seek to form students. Phase 3 will be sent out every three weeks.

Look around a Millis Institute classroom and you’ll notice what may be a surprising absence: laptops. Why do we encourage our students to bring pen, paper and books to class rather than iPads and laptops? Simply put, technology isn’t neutral; it shapes the way we think and learn. If the goal of education is formation (and not just information), we need to acknowledge the way that computers and digital screens form us.

Nicholas Carr presses this point in his recent book The Glass Cage: How Our Computers Are Changing Us, which contains a fascinating chapter on GPS devices. There Carr quotes an executive in Google’s mapping division: “[Thanks to] Google Maps … No human ever has to feel lost again.”

While that certainly sounds appealing, Carr notes that, “If you never have to worry about not knowing where you are, then you never have to know where you are.” By over-relying on GPS systems to navigate, we can lose the skill—and satisfaction—of apprehending the world around us and understanding how to locate ourselves within it. But the ability to read a map or get around on our own isn’t Carr’s only concern. He points to recent scientific research that suggests that the area of our brains that accounts for our sense of space and location (the hippocampus) also plays a central role in memory formation. This raises the possibility that long-term reliance on GPS devices may contribute not only to a weakening in spatial awareness but also to memory loss. We need to examine similar kinds of effects flowing from other forms of automation, including the (over-) use of computers in classrooms. While these devices offer certain advantages and efficiencies, what unintended consequences might they have on certain skills and ways of thinking? Do computers strengthen or weaken students’ awareness and attentiveness? Do automated spell-checkers increase or decrease attention to detail? Do iPads shape critical thinking ability as much as the expectation (or even demand) that lessons be eye-catching and entertaining ... or that lessons take the form of lectures vs discussions? Raising such questions doesn’t equate to a Luddite rejection of technology. But we do need to ask them, lest when it comes to education we blindly assume that faster, easier, and more efficient necessarily means better.

The Australian recently reported that the head of Sydney Grammar School has banned laptops from the classroom because they tend to distract from discussion and debate. “One of the most powerful tools in education is conversation,’’ he said. “[Laptop use is] making it difficult for children to learn how to disagree, how not to toe the party line, because they can’t question things--the possibility of questioning things has been taken away from them.’’

Like Sydney Grammar, the Millis Institute will continue to engage certain technologies, but we will seek to have them become the servants rather than the masters of education. We discourage laptops in class, but we are launching a new Facebook page. We send out The Pillar via e-mail, but we encourage our students to build up a library of real books. And we will continue to use GPS devices, although I also provide students with written directions to our Millis Institute dinners (see below)…in hopes that they not only avoid getting lost, but also cultivate a sense of place and exercise their hippocampus!

Celebrating Easter On Thursday 24 March, Maundy Thursday, Millis Institute staff and students celebrated with a special dinner. Amidst good food and fellowship on a beautiful evening, we discussed the Passover meal that Jesus celebrated with his disciples the night before his crucifixion. Speaking personally, this was a wonderful way to start the special holiday weekend of remembering and celebrating Christ's passion and resurrection!

On Easter Sunday we celebrate Christ’s resurrection. Prior to that, on Good Friday, we remember his crucifixion. What about the day before that? What do we celebrate on Thursday? For many, this Thursday is a normal day in the Church year—no special worship service might be planned and not much attention might be paid to it. On the day before the crucifixion, however, something very significant happened, and I want to suggest that the meaning of the cross—and Jesus’ shed blood—is tied in deep ways to that event.

The event, of course, is what we call the Last Supper, which turned out to be Jesus’ final celebration with his disciples of the Passover. This is significant because the Passover was the meal that consummated the covenant between Yahweh and the people of Israel. For generation after generation to follow, the Passover not only reminded the Israelites of God’s relationship with them, but also enabled them, mysteriously, to participate in that original covenant-sealing meal. Thus, each time it was celebrated, the covenant with Yahweh was relived, re-enacted and renewed. During the Last Supper, Jesus did something quite unexpected: he identified the meaning of this Passover event with himself. That is, Christ conveyed to his disciples that God’s covenant love for his people would forevermore be focused in his own person—his own body and blood. On that special Passover night, Jesus not only presided over the renewal of the covenant, but he instituted a New Covenant, with a new command: “As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34). (This new mandate—mandatum in Latin—is why some traditions call it “Maundy Thursday.”) As we approach Good Friday, we would do well to understand it, in part, by its relationship to Thursday. Christ’s sacrifice, culminating on the cross, brought to completion and fulfilled the terms of the covenant. We can think of his blood not only as washing away or covering sin, but sealing a covenant. So over the next few days, let’s ponder and celebrate Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, but let’s not overlook the new-Passover event that consummates and renews the covenant relationship he makes possible. Let’s not forget Thursday.

a letter to Christian students who are, appropriately enough, beginning their university studies.

Hauerwas makes a fundamental assertion to these students: the church needs you to do well in school. How often do we hear that message from our churches? How frequently do we tell students that they’re called to serve their congregation through rigorous academic study? Despite the fact that the Apostle Paul names “wisdom” and “knowledge” as gifts for promoting the common good (1 Cor. 12:7-11)--and that we're directed in Luke to love the Lord with our minds--how many of us have been taught that the Church’s larger mission requires good intellectual work? There’s a temptation to view the “Christian” part of going to uni as having only to do with spiritual-sounding activities, such as witnessing to friends, attending chapel services, or taking part in Bible studies or on-campus prayer meetings. But Hauerwas insists that the Church also has good reason to be interested in what takes place inside the literature seminar and science lab.

Christ is written everywhere, not only in the prophecies of the Old Testament but also in the pages of history and in the book of nature. … Physics, sociology, French literary theory: All these and more—in fact, everything you study in college—is bathed in the light of Christ. It takes the eyes of faith to see that light, and it takes an educated mind to understand and articulate it. … It takes an educated mind to do the Church’s work of thinking about and interpreting the world in light of Christ.

To be a student, therefore, is a serious calling.

You may well be thinking, ‘What is he thinking? I’m just beginning my [first] year. I’m not being called to be a student. None of my peers thinks he or she is called to be a student. They’re going to college because it prepares you for life. I’m going to college so I can get a better job and have a better life than I’d have if I didn’t go to college. It’s not a calling.’ But you are a Christian. This means you cannot go to college just to get a better job.

We asked our students on day one to wrestle with these claims and examine their own assumptions about university. Are they at the Millis Institute primarily for job training or to “think about and interpret the world in the light of Christ”? And what does the latter option even mean, and why is it so important? Hauerwas invites students to conceive their education as a calling to serve not primarily themselves but “the Church and the world.”

What if Christians became known for their thoughtfulness? What if they acquired a reputation in our culture for their deep insight, logical precision and creative thinking? What if they stood out for their joy in exploring math and science, or for the reasonableness of their political discourse, or for the compelling defense of their faith and hope? What if they became branded as people who not only love and care about learning but also were able to love and care for neighbours more effectively because of it? Would the gospel and church not be served?

Of course, Hauerwas acknowledges that there are other gifts through which people are called to minister:

By all means honor those who are serving the Church in the ordained ministry, or through social action, or through spiritual direction. But remember: You are about to become a student … Whatever you end up doing with your life, now is the time when you develop the intellectual skills the Church needs for the sake of building up the Body of Christ.You do not need to be educated to be a Christian. … But the Church needs some Christians to be educated.

Last week the Millis Institute launched its first cohort of students on the journey of higher education in service to something bigger than themselves. We join Hauerwas in calling for churches to recognise and promote the importance of higher education, and for Christian students to approach their studies as a calling.

Tonight was an historic night for the Millis Institute. We opened the book—literally—on two new liberal arts courses. With Dr Darren Iselin (President of CHC), Mr Graham Packer (Chairman of the CHC Council), Emeritus Professor Brian Millis, Pastor Ron Woolley and a number of family, friends and special guests on hand, the Millis Institute held its inaugural Matriculation Ceremony.

Professor Darren Iselin and Dr Ryan Messmore (pictured with the Matriculation Book) welcome 15 new students to the Millis Institute

In the Western academic tradition, Matriculation is a ceremony marking students’ formal entrance into a university. In Latin, a “matricula” is a list or register. During our ceremony, students signed the first page of the Millis Institute Matriculation Book, adding their names to a list of students that will, by God’s grace, fill many pages in the future. Each student was also presented with a black academic gown. Why do we engage is this strange activity? Throughout life we often mark special moments with special clothing. For a high school formal dance we may don a tie or dress; at funerals we wear black to express mourning; and, of course, at weddings the groom is clad in a sharp tuxedo, the bride in a beautiful gown, and the bridesmaids in something they’ll likely never wear again! Clothing also tends to denote membership in a particular group. Think of students wearing the same uniform at a school, nuns wearing the same habit in a religious order, and athletes wearing the same jersey on a team. Many sports fans even wear the same jersey as the athletes to express loyalty to—and to participate as a vicarious member of—a particular team. (After Duke University’s basketball team won the National Championship in 2010, the next day I wore a Duke warm-up jersey to the think-tank where I worked!) Clothing somehow has a way of uniting people to share a common goal or identity.

In the Western academic tradition, Matriculation is a ceremony marking students’ formal entrance into a university. In Latin, a “matricula” is a list or register. During our ceremony, students signed the first page of the Millis Institute Matriculation Book, adding their names to a list of students that will, by God’s grace, fill many pages in the future. Each student was also presented with a black academic gown. Why do we engage is this strange activity? Throughout life we often mark special moments with special clothing. For a high school formal dance we may don a tie or dress; at funerals we wear black to express mourning; and, of course, at weddings the groom is clad in a sharp tuxedo, the bride in a beautiful gown, and the bridesmaids in something they’ll likely never wear again! Clothing also tends to denote membership in a particular group. Think of students wearing the same uniform at a school, nuns wearing the same habit in a religious order, and athletes wearing the same jersey on a team. Many sports fans even wear the same jersey as the athletes to express loyalty to—and to participate as a vicarious member of—a particular team. (After Duke University’s basketball team won the National Championship in 2010, the next day I wore a Duke warm-up jersey to the think-tank where I worked!) Clothing somehow has a way of uniting people to share a common goal or identity.

The same is true of higher education institutions in the Western tradition. When students entered a medieval university like the University of Paris or Oxford, they were robed in black academic gowns, symbolizing membership in a community of learning. Thanks to a generous donor, the Millis Institute is able to share in this tradition by presenting our students with academic gowns at Matriculation.

The goal is to remind our students that their academic course is about something bigger than themselves—it initiates them into something more than just a first job. As liberal arts students, they take part in a great educational tradition that reaches back hundreds of years. As this semester gets underway, they are entering a conversation that began long ago, and they have the privilege and responsibility of helping to pass it along to future generations. In modern society, the little black dress has become known and appreciated for being seamless. We think our students’ black academic gowns express a similar quality: not only the integration of different fields of knowledge in one course, but also the continuity of liberal arts study down through the centuries. We are thankful for our first cohort of students and we ask you to join us in praying for their formation and growth over the following months.

The “Exploring” phase of The Pillar has been working through the various steps of the “path to wisdom.” We’ve examined the trivium subjects of grammar, logic and rhetoric, and the quadrivium subjects of geometry, music and astronomy. The most recent issue, which addressed literature, stepped up into subjects that explore humanity and culture through reason ...which brings us to this issue's topic: history. But this week it also seems appropriate to mention the Grand Final of all Grand Finals (if I may): the Super Bowl. So here's my attempt to intelligibly blend comments about studying history with this gridiron spectacular.

Super Bowl 50 was billed as the battle of two very different quarterbacks. Experience vs youth; disciplined vs free-spirited; stand-in-the-pocket-marksman vs. innovative-run-and-gunner. Receiving less attention (ok, actually, none at all!) was how both players illumine the importance of engaging the subject of history.

The Denver Broncos’ Payton Manning is known for rigorously studying the defensive formations of opposing teams. After practices, he can be found meticulously analysing videotape from past games and seasons. By understanding the history of how certain defenses have acted, reacted and changed over time, Manning can anticipate on-the-spot what strategy to use again them. As he walks to the line to snap the ball, he often changes the predetermined play based on how he “reads” the defense’s formation. Manning is the most prolific passer of all time in the NFL, suggesting that studying the past is important for making good decisions in the present. But this sort of “learning from history” isn’t the only benefit of studying the subject. Explaining why we should read old books, C.S. Lewis writes:

If you join at eleven o’clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said. Remarks which seem to you very ordinary will produce laughter or irritation and you will not see why—the reason, of course, being that the earlier stages of the conversation have given them a special point.

Studying history initiates us into a conversation that began long before we arrived at the party. That conversation is about man’s pursuit of human flourishing. If we want to understand certain remarks, get particular jokes, avoid inappropriate comments and contribute in a constructive way, we need to discern how that conversation has unfolded over time. In other words, to thrive in the world today—to keep the conversation going—it helps to understand and appreciate historical developments in social, political, philosophical, theological, scientific and legal thought. And, according to Lewis, that means reading old books. One problem, though, is that,

There is a strange idea abroad that in every subject the ancient books should be read only by professionals, and the amateur should content himself with the modern books. ... The student is half afraid to meet one of the great philosophers face to face.

This is where Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton can help. Newton has made a habit of, after scoring a touchdown, handing the football to a kid in the stands. (In one game this season, Newton unknowingly handed the ball to a boy whose dad had promised to take him to a Panthers game but died earlier that year. Receiving this prize directly from the superstar Newton was a moment the boy will never forget.)

Lewis insists that reading old books by their original authors is preferable to just reading modern texts about them. “It has always therefore been one of my main endeavours as a teacher,” he says, “to persuade the young that firsthand knowledge is not only more worth acquiring than secondhand knowledge, but is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire.” Similarly, celebrating a touchdown with the athlete in person is more exhilarating than just watching it on TV. Cam Newton has consistently walked up to kids and invited them, first hand, into a larger celebration. C.S. Lewis reminds us that we can do something even more significant in education: invite students into a larger conversation through meeting great authors face-to-face. The Millis Institute takes this seriously, which is why we walk students through the history of Western civilisation and invite them to engage the greatest thinkers and books of all time.

New Millis Program for Secondary Schools

Year 7-12 students at four Queensland schools are preparing to participate in a new academic program called "The Path to Wisdom." Hosted at CHC, this event provides a 3-hour interactive session each semester with Millis Institute staff and CHC President Darren Iselin. The goal is to engage students in the traditional liberal arts subjects, cultivating in them knowledge and skills that are foundational for all learning. Over 200 participants are expected to convene for the inaugural session on Monday 22 February. Each semester, students in Years 7-10 will explore one of the original liberal arts subjects: the “trivium” of grammar, logic and rhetoric (developing their writing, speaking and thinking skills) as well as geometry, music, science/astronomy, and media/arts (helping them appreciate the order and beauty of God's creation). Students in Years 11-12 will engage philosophy, ethics, Christian worldview, and calling, which will introduce them to questions concerning human flourishing and how to think about them from a Christian perspective. We're excited about this unique program's potential to help secondary students think critically, solve problems, make good decisions, and communicate insights to others. These are necessary skills for success, not only in school and university but also in work and leadership arenas…not to mention life in general!

I’ve noted in The Pillar before the leadership achievements of Gail Kelly

But rather than simply helping us to understand the emotions and reactions of others, literature also invites us to sympathize with them. According to British scholar Roger Scruton (pictured here), “through literature we can ‘learn what to feel’” by imagining ourselves in certain characters’ situations and assessing their reactions as heroic or villainous, worthy of imitation or critique.

"We can rehearse in imagination the knowledge that we might one day require ... through imagination we reach emotional knowledge which can prepare us for the joys and calamities that we will some day encounter.”

In an interview on ABC News Radio, this classics translator explained that he had lost loved ones growing up, but he found through reading Greek tragedies that he wasn’t alone in his grief. “[I]t was out of that sense of personal connection to plays that all of a sudden [they] seemed like they had been written for me.”

Doerries began to share these classic Greek stories with U.S. soldiers and found that they had amazing power to “communalize the experience of war.” At that point in time, he says, “it was a career ending gesture to raise your hand and say that you were struggling with an invisible wound.” Through encountering and sympathizing with characters in Sophocles’ plays, however, soldiers returning from war came to see that “they're not alone in the room ... they are not alone across the country and the world ... they are not alone across time.”

The U.S. Military has hired Doerries as a defence contractor to stage a hundred performances of Sophocles’ plays each year. Doerries has discovered the immense power that literature has on the lives of soldiers: his favourite stories have their sympathy.

Liberal Arts and Long-Term Success

As the above post suggests, the liberal arts are valuable for those interested in excelling in ... well, being human. Many students and their parents, however, think that the liberal arts aren’t as helpful when it comes to excelling in high-paying jobs and career successrecent reportleadership positions as they progress through their careers. That might be due not only to their critical thinking skills but also to the emotional knowledge they developed through reading good literature!

At this time of year, many people make New Year’s resolutions to hit the gym more regularly. ‘Tis also the season when many choose their higher education pathway. It’s funny, though, how you don’t often hear the same questions asked about gym exercises that you do uni courses. Students seem to choose their uni course based almost entirely on what job they want to pursue. They tend to take only subjects directly related to their preferred career. When faced with the opportunity to take a broader range of subjects—like geometry or music, for instance—the typical student responds, “When would I use that in my job?”

Yet we don’t seem to ask that sort of question in the gym. “Why are you lifting those pieces of metal? When will you ever need to do that in the workplace?” or “Why are you running on a conveyor belt that takes you nowhere? What job requires you to become good at that?”

in a 2013 survey,logic, geometry, music, and astronomy are important disciplines to pursue at university. In other words, they’ve tried to show the tremendous benefit—humanly and occupationally—that’s possible if we can free ourselves from the utilitarian shackles of “When would I use that in my job?” Before shifting The Pillar’s focus to the next step of the “Path to Wisdom,” we come to the real test of understanding: why would someone study a dead language?

It's Not Dead Yet!

Former Westpac CEO Gail Kelly’s first job was teaching it.Harry Potter author J.K.Rowling and Facebook creator Mark Zuckerberg both studied it at uni.It led the founder of chemotherapy into a life of cancer research.

Latin … this old, arcane language is seldom offered in schools today. If it is, most students probably avoid it because of its perceived difficulty. (Sadly, that’s why I chose not to take it in high school. I would later pay for this decision during graduate studies at Cambridge!) And, at first glance, it doesn’t seem to pass the “When would I use this in my job?” criteria. In short, Latin seems to be a pretty dead language—it’s neither spoken by nations nor taught and appreciated by most educational institutions. While many curriculum directors may echo the cart-master in Monty Python and the Holy Grail by calling, “Bring out your dead!,” my hope for Latin is that, “It’s not dead yet!” I believe we should revive the study of Latin for several reasons: Latin helps students understand the meaning of English words. Over half of all words in the English language come from Latin. Thus, learning Latin can help improve a student’s English vocabulary. But why not just study English? Because Latin is, in a sense, a more efficient way of learning our own language. Knowing one word or one part of a word in English will not necessary help you understand other English words better. For instance, take “dead.” It shares “ead” with “bread,” “tread,” “spread,” and “read,” but that doesn’t inform us about the meaning of these words. One Latin word, in contrast, can deepen our understanding of many English words.

Knowing that the Latin mort- or mor- means “dead” helps to illumine English words like “mortal,” “mortuary,” “moribund” and even “mortgage” (debt ‘til death!). It will also clue us in to the personality of The Addams Family’s Morticia and signal to readers of The Lord of the Rings the grave nature of Mordor.

Another example: Knowing the Latin word for "father" (pater) helps to illumine many English words, including “paternal,” “paternity,” “patriarch,” “patriot,” “patristic,” and “patronage.” (Sidenote: knowing the Dutch word for "father" (vader) may help to illumine—and possibly even spoil—a first viewing of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back!) Latin helps students understand English grammar. In addition to improving English vocabulary, Latin improves understanding of the structure and mechanics of the English language. In fact, many teachers have observed that the best way to teach English is to teach…Latin! This has to do, in large part, because Latin is an inflected language—its words change their case endings according to the role they play in a sentence. (The same thing isn’t true in English.) Consider the simple phrases “I love my father” and “My father loves me.” The word “father” is used differently in these sentences—in the first sentence “father” is the direct object (he receives the love), but in the second sentence “father” is the subject (he does the loving). But in both English sentences, “father” is spelled the same. Thus, we cannot tell what role he plays in the sentence just by looking at the word alone. In Latin, however, the spelling of nouns like “father” (pater) changes when their function changes. Decipher their case ending and you know their function. Learning Latin entails memorising the various noun as well as verb endings. Because I didn’t learn this in school, I had to play catch-up in university. While at Cambridge, I hung posters of various verb conjugations in the bathroom and recited these chants out loud while taking my daily bath (I didn’t have a shower!). Various careers require knowledge of Latin. The technical vocabulary used within various career fields is derived from Latin. Studying Latin can thus equip students to succeed in certain jobs, especially those concerning science, medicine, law, business, academia and theology/ministry. In fact, all of the modern sciences developed their specialised vocabularies from Latin; the very word “science” comes from the Latin word scientia meaning “knowledge.”

Sadly, to prepare students for science-related careers, we emphasise more “STEM” classes but fail to teach the root language of these very disciplines. (Sidenote: A lawyer who loves the band U2 may hang a “pro bono” sign over his office door; but without knowing Latin he might discover that his expenses surpass his income!)

Latin makes it easier to learn other languages … and simply to learn. Learning Latin aids students in learning modern Romance languages (e.g., French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Romanian). The process of identifying different parts of speech and using proper case endings also makes it easier to study other inflected languages like German and Russian. But the benefits of studying Latin extend beyond just learning languages; it helps in learning anything…it helps learning in general. According to Dorothy Sayers, “the best grounding for education is the Latin grammar. … even a rudimentary knowledge of Latin cuts down the labor and pains of learning almost any other subject by at least 50 percent.” As one teacher explains,

Latin teaches young students an invaluable formula for learning. The system is intrinsic in the language. Latin requires drill work. It requires repetition and consistency. Most importantly, it requires students to mentally organize information into readily accessible groups. … and master it in a logical sequence. Certainly this tool is valuable for any field of study.

Latin helps us understand our cultural heritage. Latin is the foundational language of Western civilisation. So many of the stories and arguments and poems and ideas and songs and texts that shaped the trajectory of modern western culture were created in this tongue. Studying Latin thus helps to preserve and transmit our cultural heritage; it illumines insights about our (Western) understanding of art, architecture, science, music, philosophy, government, and religion; it enables students to understand better the society in which they live and how it came to be the way it is. Latin trains the mind to think. Perhaps the most important reason to study this dead language is summed up by Cheryl Lowe when she states, “Every lesson in Latin is a lesson in logic.” What’s strategic about learning Latin is how it forms students and their minds. The process is a training ground in reading carefully, attending to detail, exercising precision, making distinctions and organising different components into a coherent whole. We should encourage students to study Latin for the same reason they should study the other liberal arts: not because it will directly contribute to their future job, but because it will sharpen their minds. It will help them to think in a more logical, orderly, disciplined way; it will develop within them accuracy, patience and precision; and it will help them to understand the culture and tradition from which they come. I applaud institutions like Brisbane Christian College for keeping this opportunity alive for their students. We look forward to providing it as well at the Millis Institute.

Sometimes I wonder if our nativity scenes should include—off to the side—the figure of a nervous King Herod, scheming to kill the newborn Jesus. This would certainly add a dark tone to some Christmas cards, but it might help balance out the overly-sentimental notions we can develop about what this baby came to do.

A nativity scene...including King Herod?

When I was in uni, I remember my professor, Stanley Hauerwas, saying, “No one killed Jesus because he wanted people to love one another. He was killed because he challenged the powers that be.” And what he challenged was the idolatrous degree of trust and allegiance that people attribute to them. That has always stuck with me. I encourage my students to make sure that, when they think of Jesus, they think about not only a preacher who promotes the Golden Rule but also an authority who rules a Kingdom. The latter brings into focus the question of trust and loyalty. Every wise king calls for—and works hard to gain and keep—the trust of his subjects. If people trust the ruler as the person to look to for protection and security, he will be more able to rely on their support, obedience and sacrifice. It is therefore a serious thing for a ruler to have his authority challenged or for someone to direct his people’s trust in a different direction. But this is what Jesus does. He calls people to look to himself for protection from their most harmful enemies (not necessary the ones reported by ABC News) and provision of what they truly need to flourish (not necessarily what consumer marketing campaigns portray). Jesus acknowledged the legitimacy of civil government and submitted to the authorities of his day, but he denounced attributing to them more trust and hope than is proper. He calls all citizens to give their highest allegiance—their ultimate loyalty—their deepest sacrifice—to him rather than to any earthly governor. This is the kind of mission that will get you killed! I think Christmas is a time when we often forget this. With the shepherds we rightly focus on the news of a newborn “Saviour…the Messiah” who takes away our sins (Luke 2:11). But we need to acknowledge with the Magi that this baby is also a long-awaited king.

That would certainly explain Herod’s reaction upon talking to these wise men (Matt 2:2-3). He wanted to kill the baby, not because Jesus might become a great moral teacher who warmed people’s hearts, but because the prophets foretold that he would rule over an ever-lasting kingdom.

This Christmas, as we sing songs of a quiet infant, tender and mild, let us not forget that the Incarnation poses a defining, authoritative challenge. The challenge has to do with where we place our hearts, our loyalties and our loves. Christmas is the birth into human history of the One who has the greatest power to protect, to save from enemies, and to overcome threats to a good life. Christmas is the birth of the true King. This calls for a response of re-evaluating our priorities, identifying where we have misplaced our trust, repenting of our willingness to grant authority to idolatrous powers, and recommitting to a life lived under His reign. In the new year, may our hearts prepare Him room, and may earth receive her King!

Notables

The 2015 Book-I-Appreciated-That-You-Might-Be-Interested-In Award goes to Rod Dreher’s How Dante Can Save Your Life.

I’m very excited about students in the Millis Institute reading Dante’s Divine Comedy—I even have in mind a weekend retreat where they immerse themselves in “history’s greatest poem.” So I was pleased to discover how seamlessly Dreher weaves the Divine Comedy into his own experience. If anyone wonders “what good reading old books” can do—or what benefit there is in studying the liberal arts—here’s a great answer! Dreher tells the true story of how, after becoming a well-known author and columnist in Washington, DC, he moved home to Louisiana to be with his family in need. Let’s just say that things didn’t go so well, and Dreher soon discovered that “There is no exile quite like being a stranger in the midst of your own family.”

At this point he picked up the Divine Comedy, which Dante conceived in the 13th Century while in exile from his beloved hometown of Florence. As Dreher reads about different characters inhabiting different levels of heaven and hell, the insights he acquires are life-transforming. For instance, in the circle of hell reserved for the violent, Dante encounters Brunetto Latini, who had lived as one of Italy’s most distinguished statesmen and scholars. Brunetto counsels Dante that the purpose of writing is to win worldly fame. Dreher, a writer himself, learns an important lesson from this episode and concludes:

How much happier would young people be if they began their careers thinking not of the fame, fortune, and glory they will receive from professional accomplishment but rather of the good they can do for others. … I knew now that we condemn ourselves to misery not so much because of what we hate but because of what we love and the way we love … loving and desiring good things in the wrong way.

Along the literary journey, Dante teaches Dreher not to despise the disappointment and depression he experiences, but instead to use it as an opportunity to evaluate his (misplaced) loves and to direct his desires and expectations toward God. “Suffering comes to everyone. It’s the human condition. What you do with that suffering determines whether or not you remain an earthbound caterpillar or metamorphose into a butterfly.”

That’s pretty good advice from an old poem, and we look forward to exploring it further with our students at the Millis Institute.

Almost every Christmas card reminds us of what has been, for centuries, a traditional pathway to wisdom: the stars. (Search online for “Christmas Card” or “Nativity Scene” and notice how many contain a star!)

The study of celestial objects and phenomena is called astronomy, and it’s considered valuable for developing the mind for several reasons. First, it can help foster a certain way of thinking—in particular, it can help us think about what we see. For example, can we always trust our observations? It does seem that the sun rises, travels across the sky and sets over a stationary earth. The history of astronomy engages students in these sorts of questions. According to Dr Michael Augros, it is good for the mind to start with things as they appear, come to the recognition that that way of thinking can be deficient, and struggle to see the world differently. In this sense, one of the best educations in how knowledge works is walking students through the historical transition from geocentrism to heliocentrism (a model in which the sun orbits around the earth to one in which the planets revolve around the sun) ... or from belief in incorruptible stars to corruptible ones or circular orbits to elliptical ones. In other words, tracing the drama of scientific discovery through figures like Ptolemy, Kepler, Galileo and Newton can help students avoid either of two extremes: 1) dismissing empirical science as guess-work or unreliable manipulation of data to further a particular agenda, and 2) assuming empirical science always and uniquely provides accurate, indubitable knowledge. Sadly, by circumventing astronomy in their education, students today can miss out on forming a healthy appreciation of the kind of knowledge science provides as well as the limitations and challenges it entails. Another reason that stars (and other celestial objects) can lead to wisdom is because they provoke wonder. As mentioned in a previous Pillar, Socrates held that wisdom begins in wonder. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are!

We're approaching Christmas, when we read in Matthew’s gospel of another star of wonder. Readers of Psalm 19 will already be familiar with the notion that “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.” The particular star in Matthew’s gospel somehow revealed to the Magi the birth of Israel’s king.

Some believe that this strange light was a comet or a supernova that God used to lead the wise men to Bethlehem; others suggest that it was a conjunction of planets or a phenomenon known as a heliacal rising; still others hold that it was a purely supernatural occurrence. In any event, this “first-Christmas astronomy puzzle” should remind us that we may have something to learn about "the work of his hands" from investigating the cosmos. The beautiful patterns and mathematical movements of celestial bodies--what ancient scholars called "the music of the spheres"--is worth listening to! The Millis Institute follows the Western tradition of including astronomy (as distinct from astrology) in a good liberal arts education (see "Notables" section below). Astronomy engages students in perennial questions about the nature and origin of the universe and their place in it, leading them from wonder to wisdom. O, Star of wonder, star of night Star of royal beauty bright Westward leading, still proceeding, Guide us to thy perfect light.

Notables

Astronomy as a Liberal Art

This 15th century painting of the Seven Liberal Arts by Frencesco Pesellino shows the figure of Astronomy seated in the centre (with Ptolemy seated at her feet)!

Educating Cows

My students read a fascinating essay by C S Lewis entitled "Our English Syllabus," which contains the following quote:

When the cow has finished eating she chews the cud; when she has finished chewing she sleeps; when she has finished sleeping she eats again. She is a machine for turning grass into calves and milk--in other words, for producing more cows. ... When God made the beasts dumb he saved the world from infinite boredom, for if they could speak they would all of them, all day, talk nothing but shop.

This past weekend I read the following comment by Dr Vigen Guroian about modern education:

[It] treats young men and women precisely as if they were destined to be at shop and to talk shop all day long. ... We prepare young people to become cows and mules rather than men and women. We expend great energy and dedicate vast sums of money towards directing all of youth's energy into the pursuit of a career. We are more concerned that our students learn to be professionals and prepare themselves for careers than we are that they learn about the human condition and cultivate the moral imagination. My [university] has sent out into society far too many souls whose imaginations are starved, who do not know what to do with themselves when they are not at work other than to feed appetites that will never be satisfied and to pursue pleasures that will never bring happiness.

“I often think in music.” -Albert Einstein Have you ever thought about a musical way of thinking? If we tune ourselves to its power, music can open up new ways of perceiving the world and central truths of faith.

Plato argued that, “Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul…” The right musical education, he believed, makes one receptive to truth and goodness and a “friend” of reason—it tunes the soul to appreciate certain dimensions of reality. According to Aristotle, music is crucial for a good education because of its power to cultivate intuition—a grasp of first principles. We shouldn’t be surprised to learn that Einstein was an amateur pianist and violinist. In fact, he once said, "The theory of relativity occurred to me by intuition, and music is the driving force behind this intuition. My parents had me study the violin from the time I was six. My new discovery is the result of musical perception." This “musical perception”—or musical way of thinking—can help us explore ideas in different ways than what is possible through words, propositional logic or eyesight alone. For example, music helped Einstein overcome a visual way of conceiving space and time.

Visual ways of thinking lead to a perception of space in which two different things are mutually exclusive. Our eyes don’t allow us to see two things in the same space at the same time. Cover yellow paint with blue paint and you’ll either see blue (covering over the yellow) or green. Visual perception cannot distinguish both yellow and blue as distinct in the same place and time.

Musical perception is different. As classical pianist and theologian Jeremy Begbie writes,

If I play a note on the piano—say, middle C—the note fills the whole of my heard ‘space.’ I cannot identify some zone where the note is and somewhere it is not. … If I play a second note ... along with middle C, that second note also fills the whole of my heard space. Yet I hear it as distinct. … Here is a kind of space which is not the space of mutual exclusion, but … which allows for overlapping and interpenetration.

If you're not going to be an accountant or mathematician, why bother with mathematics? Three words: work, wisdom, and wonder. We all recognize that mathematics is worthwhile for accomplishing certain tasks and pursuing certain careers. We’re perhaps less aware of its ability to train the mind in how to think. In “The Lost Tools of Learning,” Dorothy Sayers promoted algebra and geometry as sub-departments of logic—“the rule of the syllogism in its particular application to number and measurement.” This is one reason why, for thousands of years, thinkers have viewed these subjects as essential to a good education. Above Plato’s Academy stood the inscription: “Let none ignorant of geometry enter here!”

In addition to its usefulness for work and wisdom, there’s a third reason to study mathematics: it can cultivate wonder in God’s creation.

According to Kevin Clark and Ravi Scott Jain, the ancients “treated numbers not just as a practical tool, but as a locus of wonder and mystery.” Our educational forefathers believed that the numerical order of reality is symbolic—it reflects something about its Creator. And they held that numerical relationships represent deeper harmonies, patterns and truths in creation. For example, Stratford Caldecott notes that the Western intellectual tradition associated numbers with not just quantitative but also qualitative meaning:

One was considered the source and archetype of Unity; it’s the number that is a part of all other numbersTwo represented polarity and division, but also the potential for fruitfulness (male and female)Three demonstrated the reconciliation of one (unity) and two (diversity) in harmonyFour represented earth or the material order: four points of a compass leading to “four corners of the earth” consisting of four elements (earth, water, air, fire) found in four states (solid, liquid, gas, plasma)Five was associated with the human body: five senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch), five appendages to the torso (arms, legs and head), five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot, and five openings on the faceSix represented creation (six days in which God created)Seven expressed totality or fullness; it is the number of creation days + one day of rest and the sum of four (material order) + three (God: Trinity); it was also associated with covenants—the Hebrew word for swearing an oath literally means “to seven oneself

Most schools no longer teach the symbolic nature of numbers. We’re thus less sensitive to math’s ability to express deeper truths about—and cultivate wonder in—the world. For instance, if we understand the theological significance of seven, would it not heighten our wonder to find its mark throughout God’s creation? As an example, our ears distinguish seven notes in a scale (do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti) and our eyes distinguish seven colours in a rainbow (ROYGBIV). One might conclude that we’re wired not only for a world charged with divine grandeur but also for a covenant with its Creator! In eliminating the qualitative dimension of mathematics and focusing exclusively on the quantitative, we also weaken appreciation for the beauty of the relationships between numbers and, going further, the beauty of the comparisons between those relationships. For example, the most elegant comparison of numerical relationships is called the “golden” or “divine” ratio: a relates to a+b similarly as b relates to a. That is, the relation of the larger section of a line to the whole line has the same proportion as the relation of the smaller section to the larger section.

This “golden” relationship contains three (measurements) that are two (sections) that are one (line). Robert Lawler sees the golden ratio as a transcription into mathematics of the words “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). Again, it should provoke wonder that the golden ratio is found throughout the human body and the natural world, and people often consider it the most visually satisfying of all geometric forms. It so happens that this ratio defines the relationship of a person’s hand to his forearm and the distance from one’s eye to nose compared to that of eye to chin. It is present (among other places) in the Egyptian Pyramids, the Parthenon, the Taj Mahal, Notre Dame Cathedral, the Eiffel Tower, da Vinci’s Mona Lisa and The Last Supper, and Seurat’s Bathers. It is even incorporated in the Apple computer logo and the spacing of the indentations on a Pepsi bottle!

The Millis Institute agrees with Michael S. Schneider in concluding that, “Numbers are a map of the beautiful order of the universe, the plan by which the divine Architect transformed undifferentiated Chaos into orderly Cosmos.” We believe that a good liberal arts education engages both the quantitative and qualitative nature of numbers; they not only provide use in pursuing work and wisdom, but they also develop a sense of wonder...and, ultimately, worship!

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Professor Kirke listens to Susan and Peter as they wrestle with a conundrum: is their sister Lucy telling the truth about visiting a world called Narnia. Finally, the professor exclaims, “Logic! Why don’t they teach logic in these schools?” He’s right. Most schools today don’t teach logic, which is simply the art and science of argument. And this is puzzling, for no subject is more foundational or practical. As the Christian Philosopher, Peter Kreeft, notes, “no matter what you are thinking about, you are thinking, and logic orders and clarifies your thinking.” If you’ve ever read a newspaper article and wished that the journalist had defined his terms more clearly…or worried that friends or neighbours accept the truth of what they hear on TV too easily…or desired that arguments made during committee meetings were more precise, then you’ve felt the likely implications of no longer teaching logic in schools. Logic studies the common structures of human reasoning, especially the movement of the mind from premises to a conclusion. To see the importance of this, we need only look to Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

To watch the 3.5 minute "Witch Scene," click on the image above.

Vladimir [to a mob of peasants]: How do you know she is a witch? Peasant: She looks like one! … Vladimir: Tell me... what do you do with witches? Peasant: Burn 'em! Vladimir: What do you burn apart from witches? … Peasant: Wood! Vladimir: So, why do witches burn? Peasant: Cuz they're made of wood ... Vladimir: Does wood sink in water? Peasant: No. It floats! ... Vladimir: What also floats in water? … King Arthur: A duck! Vladimir: Exactly! So, logically... Peasant (thinking): If she weighs the same as a duck, she's made of wood! Vladimir: And therefore? Peasant: A witch! The habit of asking whether an assertion necessarily follows from its prior assumptions can be a matter of life and death! This habit is cultivated through the study of logic. Such training helps students to see more clearly what is true and what is false. It also helps them to read and write more effectively. As I mentioned in the last Pillar issue, writing well and thinking well are a package deal. According to Kreeft, “It is simply impossible to communicate clearly and effectively without thinking clearly and effectively.” To be sure, logical reasoning cannot prove everything that’s important to know, including insights of faith. But logic can aid faith in several ways: it can clarify and define what we believe, deduce the necessary consequences of our beliefs, and give firmer reasons for holding them than mere feeling, fashion, or family pressure. (Just think about how our trust in someone’s testimony can be strengthened by sound reasoning, or how our interpretation of a tragic event can differ through the logical application of certain claims—e.g. that “all things work together for good for those who love God.”) For all of these reasons, we advocate a recovery of formal logic. Most students today immerse themselves in studying the content of subjects. What would happen if they were taught with equal intentionality to construct sound arguments and detect fallacies of reason? The Millis Institute is with Professor Kirke. We teach a unit in formal logic as part of an effort to shape a generation of critical thinkers—the kind of thinkers who can correctly assess and respond to testimony about realms like Narnia!

You’ve probably seen him on CNN's "GPS" or "What in the World" segments or perhaps read one of his weekly columns for The Washington Post. Earlier this year, Fareed Zakaria told graduating students about the most important thing his university education taught him: how to write well.

Born in India, Zakaria studied at both Yale and Harvard, and he recently wrote about this experience in a book entitled In Defense of a Liberal Education. When delivering a commencement address at a liberal arts college in New York, Zakaria noted that,

I realized coming from India, I was pretty good at taking tests, at regurgitating stuff I had memorized, but not so good at expressing my own ideas.

As his liberal arts education trained him in good writing, he also saw his critical thinking skills improve:

...thinking and writing are inextricably intertwined. When I begin to write, I realize that my "thoughts" are usually a jumble of half-baked, incoherent impulses strung together with gaping logical holes between them.

Whether you’re a novelist, a businessman, a marketing consultant or a historian, writing forces you to make choices and it brings clarity and order to your ideas.

George Orwell also pointed out the connection between writing and thinking:

...the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits ... If one gets rid of these habits, one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration.

Think about that: writing has real consequences, not only for an individual's well-being but also for a society’s life together. Writing poorly can be costly; words can mislead, confuse, belittle and harm. Learning to write and speak well, however, can help us achieve goals, strengthen relationships, beautify lives and serve the common good. (As Scripture teaches, “death and life are in the power of the tongue” and “a word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver” (Proverbs 18:21 and 25:11).) As Zakaria notes, good writing and speaking are beneficial in any job one pursues. If it's true that careers are becoming anachronistic--that the notion of "a [single] career" is being replaced by "a portfolio of jobs" (see article below)--then students who focus on developing these "transferable" skills will have a strategic leg up on success. If you’re interested in learning to write and speak more effectively, the Millis Institute is offering a unit in “Grammar and Rhetoric” in Semester 1, 2016. These “tools of learning” form the bedrock of a liberating education and the first step along the “path of wisdom.”

These students received a perfect Tertiary Entrance Rank of 100 in 1995. What career did each of them go on to pursue? As it turns out, quite a few!

The statistics hold true for Allegra Spender, who worked at a big hospital in Britain, then for a non-profit in Kenya and is now into her fourth career in Australia’s fashion industry. They also hold for John Butts; he studied Commerce Law, then worked for Goldman Sachs and presently runs a retail eatery in London’s Gatwick airport. The same is true for Saadiah Freeman, who started out practicing law, then moved to investment banking and now works as a management consultant. "Consulting is my third career," she says, "and I'm sure it won't be my last." Allegra, Saadiah and John all scored a 99.95 or better on their Tertiary Entrance Rank in 1995. An article in Saturday’s Sydney Morning Herald caught up with them and other high achievers to see what they’re doing 20 years after school. What stands out is how frequently they have changed careers. According to the social research firm McCrindle, “Today's school leavers should expect to have, on average, five separate careers and 17 different employers during the course of their working life.” Dr Mike Rafferty, from the University of Sydney’s Business School, comments that an increasingly small number of high school graduates can expect to leave school to study a particular vocation at university that will become their career. He argues that:

The idea of a career is dissolving. … Careers are becoming anachronistic. These days we talk about a portfolio of jobs and lifetime learning. In a turbulent world the way you assemble your portfolio is not as linear anymore, it's not just a matter of getting a degree and then a job, it's more matrix orientated, or rather it's 'snakes or ladders'.

According to Rafferty, the most successful of this year's school leavers will be those who are able to embrace mobility and change careers by following and anticipating trends.

There’s a question all students should ask about their course: where does it go? As we set out to explore a Millis Institute education in more detail, we begin with the premise that a good curriculum goes somewhere—it follows a progression that has a particular purpose or point to it.

Rather than offering a smorgasbord of disconnected subjects, a well-designed curriculum takes students along an intentional journey, arriving at a certain end or telos. For centuries in the West, this journey took shape as a “path of wisdom” that was based on several assumptions: First, educators assumed that reality—what there is to know—has a certain order to it, what Richard Weaver called “the deep-laid order of things.” This order was established by God—it's objective in nature—and it includes things visible and invisible, concrete and abstract (the physical and numerical order as well as the moral and spiritual order). Second, educators held that the process of coming to understand this multi-dimensional reality also has a certain order to it, what Thomas Aquinas referred to as “the proper order of learning.” This means taking questions in due order—establishing sound first principles and then progressing to particulars. The Millis Institute has structured its courses around the “deep-laid” order that inheres in both the universe and our way of coming to know it. Our students begin with the tools of learning, then progress to what can be discerned by the senses, then advance to what can be contemplated through reason, culminating with what can only be known by revelation. Our curriculum therefore takes students along a deliberate ascent of knowledge, ending with the Divine Creator Himself: the first cause and final end of all that exists. The steps of this path of wisdom can be further articulated as follows.

Whether you're an established professional or still in school, where will your future education lead you? For more about this time-tested path of learning--and where it goes--see here.

On behalf of the Millis Institute, I’m thrilled to announce some BIG NEWS: The Tertiary Education Quality Standards Agency (TEQSA), the national Australian higher education regulator, has fully accredited our two new courses in the liberal arts. With this official green light, we have opened applications for 2016 for a Bachelor of Arts in the Liberal Arts and a Diploma of Liberal Arts! We’ve been dreaming about what our ideal liberal arts degree looks like. Pulling ideas from institutions around the world, we determined that

Our ideal degree should include:

The 7 Original Liberal ArtsA focus not just on abstract ideas but how to live in the world todayA study of the relationship between knowledge, faith and calling Integration or interweaving of different fields of knowledge into a coherent wholeTheology in her proper place as “Queen of the Sciences”The form of a personal conversation taking place in community

and while we were dreaming…

An opportunity to study big ideas at Oxford University

So we decided to offer:

Fields like logic, music, and rhetoricThe unit 'Social & Political Ethics' and a capstone on engaging cultureAn introductory subject called 'Faith, Learning and Vocation'Coordinated history, literature and philosophy units that cover the same time periods togetherUnits on the Trinity and living out the Trinity in relationshipsAll core units as Socratic, roundtable seminar discussions

and even...

Approval to pursue a 5-week intensive at Oxford!

We’re pleased that these unique degrees have been accredited and are now on offer. (Before we could even get this public announcement out, we’ve already received our first application!) Over the past few months, I have used The Pillar to discuss the key convictions and worldview foundations of the Millis Institute. By law we have not been able to discuss publicly the courses that were under review by the accrediting agency. That’s now changed! Therefore, with this special (celebratory green) edition of The Pillar, we conclude “Phase 1: Foundations” and launch “Phase 2: Exploring.” In the upcoming issues, I’m excited to explore the Institute's unique educational offerings in more depth and demonstrate how they’re undergirded by pillars like Christian worldview, Community, Character and Calling.

Finally, I want to thank those who've been praying for us and explain why there's now a rock on my desk. In Scripture, Israelites acknowledged God’s faithfulness by erecting an Ebenezer Stone.

This was a single rock or a pile of rocks that indicated a particular place at which God had helped His people. For instance, 1 Samuel 7:12 reads “Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, 'Thus far has the LORD helped us.'” I want to acknowledge God’s faithfulness to the Millis Institute and CHC by doing the same thing on my desk. When people ask, “What is that pile of rocks for?,” I’ll tell them about how God has blessed this institution, beginning with the green light of accreditation.

There’s a small Greek word that has big implications for the Christian life … and for education. It’s allelon, the English translation of which is simply “one another.”

It appears in verses like 1 Peter 1:22 (“love

live in harmony with one another (Rom. 12:16)welcome one another (Rom. 15:7)admonish one another (Rom. 15:14)greet one another with a holy kiss (Rom. 16:16)wait for one another (1 Cor. 11:33)be servants of one another (Gal. 5:13)bear with one another lovingly (Eph. 4:2)be kind and compassionate to one another (Eph. 4:32)be subject to one another (Eph. 5:21)look to the interests of one another (Philip. 2:4)forgive one another (Col. 3:13)teach one another (Col. 3:16)encourage one another (1 Thess. 4:18)build one another up (1 Thess. 5:11)be at peace with one another (1 Thess. 5:13)do good to one another (1 Thess. 5:15)exhort one another (Heb. 3:13)be hospitable to one another (1 Pet. 4:9)have fellowship with one another (1 John 1:7)pray for one another (James 5:16)confess your sins to one another (James 5:16)

This suggests that Christian discipleship is inescapably tied to relationships with others. In short, the Christian life is life together—it is intrinsically communal. We shouldn't be surprised by this, for we're made in the image of a God whose very nature is community—God’s life is life together among Father, Son and Holy Spirit. If our mission involves revealing to the world this sort of God—and the relationships He makes possible—then it’s only logical that this mission is carried out by a community (called church). Simply put, the form matches the content. As the great missionary Leslie Newbigin pointed out, a salvation whose very essence is the restoration of broken harmony between man and God must be communicated in and by a community which embodies the restored harmony of which it speaks. “A gospel of reconciliation can only be communicated by a reconciled fellowship.”

This should have significant implications for higher educational institutions, especially those that are motivated by and teach about a Christian worldview. The form that teaching takes should match the content being taught. That’s why an essential pillar of the Millis Institute is community.

We believe that deep learning—the kind that forms character and transforms lives—takes place amidst life together. A tutor watching the facial expressions of students to discern their level of understanding. Peers turning to one another to ask questions or share insights. Faculty members eating meals together and inviting students into their conversation. Staff and students worshipping side-by-side. These practices flourish amidst a community of learning, where people spend time face-to-face with one another, inside and outside the classroom.

It is primarily through cultivating such relationships that students develop the trust necessary to follow where teachers lead—i.e. to focus on what teachers ask them to focus on and to love what they encourage them to love.

Listening to the state of today’s public debate about marriage reminds me of a comment that Dorothy Sayers made almost 70 years ago in her essay “The Lost Tools of Learning":

Have you ever, in listening to a debate among adult and presumably responsible people, been fretted by the extraordinary inability of the average debater to speak to the question, or to meet and refute the arguments of speakers on the other side? … Have you ever followed a discussion in the newspaper or elsewhere and noticed how frequently writers fail to define the terms they use?

The Millis Institute has launched a new initiative to help students contribute to public conversations in a more thoughtful, coherent and winsome way. We call it Socrates in Senior School, and the goal is to assist Year 11 and 12 students to think through the right questions concerning timely issues. Last Friday we held our inaugural event entitled “Marriage: What Questions Should We Ask?,” featuring Dr Ryan Anderson from The Heritage Foundation in the U.S. (and author of Truth Overruled: The Future of Marriage and Religious Freedom).

Dr Ryan Anderson discusses the most important questions to ask concerning marriage to an

audience of over 200 young people at the Millis Institute's inaugural Socrates in Senior School forum.

With a logical precision that would have made Dorothy Sayers proud, Anderson examined the definitions and arguments about marriage proposed in today’s public square. He noted that the average citizen assumes marriage is a permanent, monogamous, sexually exclusive institution between two adults. Many, however, want to continue to uphold those norms while redefining marriage in terms of consenting adult romance. Anderson pointed out that this is logically problematic. If marriage is redefined as a relationship between two caring adults regardless of their gender, it is hard to identity any principle that would require marriage to be:

permanent (after all, feelings often change over time);monogamous (what if some people think that sexual openness will help their relationship?);between only two people (what if three people share intense intimacy?).

Furthermore, redefining marriage to mean simply a relationship of intimacy and care-giving would not justify the government getting involved in it in the first place. Anderson urged the students to engage in a more logically consistent conversation by first focusing on the most important question regarding marriage: What is it? Citizens cannot have logically coherent conversations about marriage equality or discrimination unless they first define what it is they are talking about. According to Anderson,

We all want marriage equality. We all want the law to treat all marriages equally. The question is, what type of relationship is a marriage? … The only way to know whether your definition of marriage is respecting marriage equality is to know the reality of what marriage is in the first place. You have to first ask ‘What is marriage?

In contrast to viewing marriage in terms of consenting adult romance, Anderson outlined a philosophically robust vision of marriage as a union binding a man and woman together to care for any children their love brings about. This relationship is distinguished from other forms of intimacy and care-giving by its comprehensive nature. It is comprehensive

in the levels at which it unites spouses—including a physical one-flesh union “so complete that 9 months later it might require a name”;in the goal to which it is naturally ordered—i.e. creating and raising a new human life;in the commitments it calls for—i.e. monogamy and sexual fidelity “’til death do us part.”

This definition explains not only why we ascribe norms of permanence, monogamy, etc. to marriage but also why the government has a vested interest in it (i.e. it’s inherently related to the birthing and raising of future citizens). Indeed, Anderson argued that this definition matters because it maximizes the possibility that a child’s father commits to the mother and that the two of them commit to the child. He suggested that it's a matter of social justice that we provide children the greatest opportunity possible to receive the unique benefits of mothering as well as fathering:

A law that redefines marriage to make fathers optional … makes it harder to say that the fathers [who are] missing in their children’s lives matter. … If you care about social justice … you have to care about marriage and you have to care that the State gets [the definition of] marriage correct.

In “The Lost Tools of Learning," Sayers lamented, “Is not the great defect of our education today … that although we often succeed in teaching our pupils ‘subjects,’ we fail lamentably on the whole in teaching them how to think?” I applaud the schools that participated in this inaugural Socrates in Senior School event for encouraging their students not only to learn about an important issue but also to cultivate the ability to think and discuss that issue in a logical and civil manner.

This past Sunday marked the 70th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Nagasaki, Japan, and on Monday my students and I discussed decisions about what to do with their lives. As it so happens, tomorrow marks the 74th anniversary of the death of a man with not only links to Nagasaki but also lessons to consider about calling. Maximilian Kolbe was a Polish priest and missionary with a brilliant mind (he earned doctorates in philosophy and theology and was a genius in math). In 1931 he travelled as a missionary to Japan and ran one of the largest Christian publishing operations in the country. He also founded a monastery in Nagasaki which survived the bombing of August 9, 1945. Kolbe is best known, however, for his sacrifice in the German death camp of Auschwitz. Having moved back to Poland in 1936, Kolbe had organized a temporary hospital at a monastery which provided shelter to over a thousand refugees, including over 1,000 Jews whom he hid from German persecution. In 1941 he was arrested by the Gestapo and eventually imprisoned at Auschwitz. Several months later, a prisoner from Kolbe’s bunker went missing. To deter further escapes, the deputy camp commander chose ten prisoners to be starved to death in reprisal. When one of the selected men cried out that he had a wife and children, Kolbe stepped forward and asked to die in his place. The request was granted, and Kolbe spent the final days of his life without food and water, comforting his fellow prisoners.

Ten statues representing 20th century Christian martyrs stand above the western entrance of

Westminster Abbey in London. Maximilian Kolbe is the first figure depicted (on the far left).

When thinking about the future, we often wonder what specific pathway God has carved out for each one of us. “Does God want me to study law or literature? Does God want me to become a teacher or a technician?” We often imagine that God has in store for us a very particular and “successful” life, if only we pursue the path He has designed. But Kolbe’s story suggests that our questions may need to be adjusted. In the words of Christopher Wright, “I may wonder what kind of mission God has for me, when I should ask what kind of me God wants for his mission.” We do need to make informed and thoughtful decisions about what to do with our lives. But the more important goal is to become, despite whatever life throws at us, a certain kind of person. Maximilian Kolbe had notable skills and accomplished some impressive feats, but his most noteworthy “success” was the kind of person he proved to be in the midst of darkness, defeat and loss. When it comes to advising young people about future pathways, what message do we send about the most important criteria to consider? For instance, with reference to choosing a degree course, do we encourage students to ask merely, “What can I do with it?,” or also “What will it do to me—as a person?” After we lay our formal studies and careers aside, one thing that will continue on is our character. Thus, along the way, we should inquire of our educational and job options, “What kind of me will they help to form?”

For an answer, my friend Os Guinness points to the parable of the talents in Matthew’s gospel. A master called to himself three servants and gave each of them a certain number of talents (a form of money). Then he went away. Upon returning to settle accounts with them, the master praised those servants who put the talents to use in ways that generated more talents, saying to each, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” The master, however, scolded the lazy servant who merely buried his talent in the ground rather than putting it to productive use.

As in the parable, God has given each of us resources (in the form of skills, abilities, interests, etc.) that He desires we steward wisely and for good purposes. But Guinness draws particular attention to those four often overlooked words: “Then he went away.” Guinness does not claim that God physically leaves us or ignores us, but he does suggest that God often refrains from imposing specific instructions about what to do with His provisions. Instead, God gives us the freedom to act as entrepreneurs of our gifts—to be creative in how we employ our resources.

No Christian is without a calling, says Guinness. “We all have an original calling [to follow Christ and steward the gifts we’ve been given], even if we do not all have a later, special calling [like Moses did with the burning bush]. And, of course, some people have both.” God does summon some people very directly to specific places and tasks. But we should not confuse this extra-ordinary approach with His normal modus operandi. There may not be just one pre-ordained career for us. God may be able to use us in a variety of settings and pursuits, allowing us to decide the particulars according to our interests and opportunities (as long as they align with our primary calling to Him). According to Guinness, those who wait passively until they receive a “special” call risk "burying their real talent … in the ground." In the absence of special, direct instructions, we should be thankful for the freedom—and responsibility—to determine how we can best steward our gifts and abilities. That is, we need to get on with our calling to be entrepreneurs—not entrepreneurs of corporate ventures, necessarily, but “entrepreneurs of life.” This is where good universities can help students grapple well with the issue of calling or vocation. At the Millis Institute, we take seriously the responsibility to help cultivate students’ capabilities (to think, communicate, and understand the world in which they live) and utilise them faithfully toward the common good. Our goal is to equip students to steward well what the Master has entrusted to them and to hear Him say in the end, “Well done, good and faithful servants.”

What do a Singapore bank, a New York medical school, and the world’s foremost business management guru have in common? The answer might surprise you.

Tom Peters has been called “the management guru to the management gurus.” In 1982, UK’s Bloomsbury Publishing ranked his book In Search of Excellence the “greatest business book of all time.” From 1989 to 2006, it was the most widely held book in USA libraries.

In a recent visit to Australia, Peters told the Australian Financial Review that the “key to management change” is the liberal arts.

The reason is because our ability to interact with others toward a common goal is what sets us apart from machines and will be what animates business success in the future. According to Peters,

Business is about human beings and I believe we need more liberal arts majors in organisations. We need more artists and people who bring an emotional sensibility to an organisation …

What's more, creativity is more important than ever in an organisation. The smart algorithms are doing the easy stuff and the only thing left is something that has a design sensibility to it. The only way we can stay ahead of the algorithms is to introduce our own aesthetic dimension.

Peters’ appreciation of the creative and relational skills honed through a liberal arts education is echoed by banks in Singapore and Hong Kong that intentionally seek to hire arts graduates. For example, a recent article reports that such graduates now make up 30% of the 2015 management associate cohort at DBS bank in Singapore. Why would banks hire students who didn’t major in banking or finance? Debbie Chan, DBS’s VP of campus strategy and graduate recruitment, explains that a “broad curriculum trains arts students to think critically and creatively and to communicate effectively and persuasively. They also interact and relate well with a cross section of people.”

The value of these skills are even being recognized in the field of medicine.

Whereas medical schools typically recruit pre-med science-based majors, Mount Sinai Medical School in New York targets an additional category of student. Through its “Hu-Med” program, which stands for Humanities in Medicine, Mount Sinai enrols arts students who major in fields like English, history or medieval studies.

According to Dr David Muller, Mount Sinai’s Dean for Medical Education (pictured above), the program was founded on the idea that

you couldn’t be a good doctor and a well-rounded doctor and relate to patients and communicate with them unless you really had a good grounding in the liberal arts.

Muller is convinced that students can become better doctors if they train alongside people who view the same problems through different lenses. And because they have learned the ability to learn, Mount Sinai’s arts graduates are able to enter this new discipline and hold their own:

Studies have shown that the Humanities in Medicine students are just as successful in med school as any other student.

These examples demonstrate that many companies use their own training programs to teach employees industry-specific knowledge and skills while looking to liberal arts programs to make them critical and creative thinkers, effective communicators, and empathetic team members. That’s why the liberal arts are said to “liberate” students to pursue a broad range of pathways.

This past Friday revealed a lot about the state of our world. In Tunisia, gunmen mowed down 38 beachgoers; at a Kuwaiti mosque, an ISIS-sponsored suicide bombing killed 27 worshippers; at a factory in France, a man bearing flags inscribed with Islamic writing beheaded his boss; and in the United States, a South Carolina pastor was laid to rest after he and eight other African Americans were shot during a Bible study. On this very dark day around the world, what took place in Brisbane was refreshing to say the least. At Christian Heritage College, 60 emerging leaders spent their Friday night reading Martin Luther King, Jr’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” and C S Lewis’ “The Weight of Glory.”

They were preparing for several seminars that would take place the following day, in which students examined great texts of history, literature, philosophy and theology. These round-table discussions anchored the Witherspoon Fellowship, a two-day gathering of Year 10-12 students seeking a different approach to learning and leading. CHC President Prof Darren Iselin, Malyon College lecturer David Benson and I facilitated these Socratic-style conversations. Coming from 12 different schools in South East Queensland, the delegates also interacted with established leaders in various career fields. They heard first-hand accounts of how these political, business, educational, medical, legal and journalistic professionals faced and overcame challenges in their respective disciplines.

Participants also honed their skills in liberal arts subjects like rhetoric and logic through a public speaking competition and formal debates. Having read together in Shakespeare’s Henry V the famous St Crispin’s Day speech—as well as Henry’s attempt to woo the daughter of the French King he defeated—delegates chose to deliver one of the following presentations: 1) a locker-room talk to a hypothetical sports team about to enter the grand finals, or 2) a persuasive attempt to woo the (real) daughter of the CHC president! The results were as impressive as they were hilarious. An event pursuing “leadership through the liberal arts” would not be complete without an Oxford-style formal dinner and that unique combination of gymnastics and music known as ballroom dancing. Who knew pursuing the good, true and beautiful could be this much fun?

In an era where many seek leadership training through trendy tips and techniques, it is refreshing to see young people taking a more patient and strategic approach. I have to think that the future is bright when teenagers are willing to give a weekend in their holiday break to read, examine, discuss, and practice the methods and arguments of Socrates, Shakespeare, King, and Lewis.

If anyone is looking for reasons to be hopeful for the future, there were 60 of them at the Witherspoon Fellowship this past weekend!

Wonder. Tonight’s match focuses on states of origin when it comes to footy. But what about the arena of education? What is the origin of knowledge? Where does it come from?

According to Socrates, wisdom originates in wonder.

We may not be familiar with thinking about education like this. For many, the proper way to pursue knowledge is to separate it from biased factors like interest, passion, desire and wonder. Becoming educated, we’re led to believe, is simply a matter of collecting information. This approach assumes that reality—the object of knowledge—exists in the form of sterile, passive data. It simply needs neutral, disinterested brains to amass it. But is this how the act of knowing actually works? Professor Esther Lightcap Meek describes it differently:

What starts the venture is notice and wonder. Something about reality catches our attention. To start to know is actually first a response to a dimly heard beckoning of the wonder-full real. If we can see knowing as a relationship between knower and known, we can see that reality makes the first overture.

That’s a provocative claim: knowing is a response to reality's summons! We don’t always set out as detached fact collectors; rather, we often respond inquisitively to 'wonder-full' aspects of creation that catch our attention and bid us take notice. We detect a pattern that fascinates us, a question that gnaws at us, or an initial insight that opens up attractive possibilities. This is the experience of wonder, and it usually initiates the journey of learning. As Meek states,

You do not just show up and indifferently start gathering information. … Why would we think that reality would disclose itself to uncaring, indifferent, suspicious “knowers”?!

Try this experiment tonight: count the number of fouls that one team’s fans spot that either the referees "miss" or the other team’s fans consider perfectly valid. Or this: watch the game with rabid footy fans from Queensland or New South Wales and observe how many nuances they’re able to discern. Then ask someone who doesn’t care for footy what they notice. You’re likely to find that the game discloses itself differently to people depending on their loyalty (maroon or blue) and passion (high or sigh). That’s one reason why we believe that a good education is found in initiating interested students into interesting conversations around great texts—such an approach stimulates intrigue about the world and helps them know it deeply and relate to it wisely. The venture of knowing culminates in wisdom, but its State of Origin is wonder.

When I graduated from university in 1997, former U.S. President Jimmy Carter delivered the commencement address. The 1997 commencement advice I most clearly remember, though, came from a Chicago Tribune newspaper essay (pictured right) that opened with “Wear sunscreen.” Two years later, Australian Baz Luhrmann popularised that hypothetical address in his song “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)” (although he changed the introduction from the "Class of '97" to the “Class of ‘99”).

At about two minutes into the song—in between the counsel to “stretch” and “get plenty of calcium”—appear these words of wisdom:

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Is specialization to be ignored? By no means; it is, in due order, a benefit to our age. It is a question of when specialization begins. Currently this is as early as 6th grade — far too soon. The high school years should [focus on education which is] general in character and well suited to developing young people who, generally speaking, do not yet know what occupation they should undertake in life. … It is in allowing the young to generalize before specializing that we allow them to discover themselves, their talents and their vocations, and serve them best — in the long run.

Some students do receive a clear sense of calling and direction in secondary school. Many others, however, become animated by questions and topics that only emerge from longer exposure to a broader curriculum. A general education prepares students not only to pursue a number of future possible degrees and jobs but also to become an interested and interesting person. They key is not to narrow their scope of knowledge and interests too soon. My advice to today’s graduates is to be strategic and take the time to generalise before specialising. And wear sunscreen!