by Brian G. Daigle

The middle-aged woman pressed her mid-section firmly against the plastic handle of the shopping cart. She scurried her feet and fingers faster than she had in years. There was no checking the cell phone or leisurely gabbing with her friend about the latest gossip. Concern for personal vanity and how she appeared to other shoppers vanished when the game began. She only had ten more seconds. Ten seconds of frantic. Ten seconds of grab. Ten seconds to win the cash. Ten seconds for gameshow glory. After all, that’s how Supermarket Sweep works.

Unfortunately, this not only describes this popular gameshow, one which I have personally never found enjoyable to watch, it also describes how many teachers approach the end of the semester, something else I have personally never found enjoyable to watch, even in myself. Frantic. Manic. Fast. More. Furious.  The end-of-semester fury can appear to be like an Iliad battle scene of heroic aristeia (battle glory): the teacher-warrior, with unbridled intention, slicing her way through the curriculum, through testing, through homework, to ensure a certain amount of ground is covered, that enough propositional bodies are slain before the semester sun sets, before the warriors sit for a holiday meal. But what she doesn’t realize is that it is not the curriculum that is slain, it is her students, their heads, which she worked so hard to fill throughout the semester, now roll between her rickety chariot wheels. But all this can be avoided, if we remember and employ those principles that are peculiar to classical Christian education.

We should affirm again that education is not the filling of a bucket. It is not a slow pour from one container to another until you realize the clock is running out and you have so much more left in your bucket to give. It is not a data dump, a production line, a timed athletic event. Education is none of these, and so the semester is none of these. The semester is not a race. There is no last leg of it. It is also not a sporting event, where the teacher-athlete must exert a flurry of tact and overwhelming effort to overcome her opponent and ensure victory. If education is the cultivation of wisdom and virtue, the enculturation of a whole person into the good life, then I’d rather think of the semester not as a race or a competition or a ladder but as a classical oration, a movement of well-ordered parts which culminate in persuasion. If this is so, then the final few weeks of the semester are something of a peroratio. There are then some important aspects each classical teacher should incorporate into their work in the coming weeks.

Like a good peroriatio, the final few weeks of the semester will occur at the end of the discourse, of the semester discussion. If your class has been a dialogue between you and the students—and not just dialogical but a conversation and mutual “discussion” toward the true, the good, and the beautiful—then that dialogue shouldn’t just fall off. It shouldn’t just end in a holiday phone call which pulls you away from the table. There should be a wholeness to the end of the semester and its relationship to what has come before it. The liturgy ought to come to an incorporated close. There should be closure to the ground covered thus far, as well as an anticipation of meeting again after the Christmas break, to continue the dialogue. While you cannot help but end the fall semester in medias res, a funeral should occur, like we see in Homer’s two great epics, at the end of the first poem. Your semester, the first poem, should end in a kind of burial, a completion of action, a finality of labor. Let the children rest.   

Like a good peroriatio, the final few weeks of the semester will summarize the proofs and arguments sustained throughout the semester. In John Milton Gregory’s work The Seven Laws of Teaching, he calls this the Law of the Review. “No time in teaching is spent more profitably than that spent in reviewing. Other things being equal, he is the ablest and most successful teacher who secures from his pupils the most frequent, thorough, and interesting reviews.” Milton continues through some helpful insight for us: “A review is something more than a repetition. A machine may repeat a process, but only an intelligent agent can review it. The repetition done by a machine is a second movement precisely like the first; a repletion by the mind is the re-thinking of a thought. It is necessarily a review. It is more: it involves fresh conceptions and new associations, and brings an increase of facility and power. Reviews are of different grades of completeness and thoroughness, from a mere repetition of the words of by-gone lessons, or a rapid glance thrown back to some fact or phrase, to the most careful resurvey of the whole field—the occupancy in full force of the ground of which the first study was only a reconnaissance. The first and simplest reviews are mostly repetitions; the final and complete reviews should be thorough re-studies of the lessons.” Gregory’s chapter on review ought to be read again by your faculty, especially the portion at the end titled “Practical Rules for Teachers,” and “Violations and Mistakes.”

Like a good peroriatio, the final few weeks of the semester will refresh the student’s memory. Memory, as has been affirmed time and again in classical education, is necessary to paideia. Without memory, there is no education. The greatest gift you can give your students at the end of the semester is an opportunity to remember, to re-consider, to re-view. For what does it tell your students about the value of what they’ve done if it is so quickly left behind? Why should we be surprised if they forget in a year what we encouraged them to forget in just a few months? Use these next few weeks to refresh your student’s memory. This does not mean cramming it all into a comprehensive final exam, though that may occur. As the Rhetorica Ad Herennium counsels, “…since what has been said last is easily committed to memory, it is useful, when ceasing to speak, to leave some very strong argument fresh in the hearer’s mind. This arrangement of topics in speaking, like the arraying of soldiers in battle, can readily bring victory.” (Readings in Classical Rhetoric, 195). The Christmas break is when the teacher is asked to stop speaking, and this means what is said last, and how it is said, will resound the loudest.

Like a good peroriatio, the final few weeks of the semester will not present any new information. This is the tendency of the teacher, for it is the tendency to ensure the curriculum is in step with what was planned. But how quickly this new information gets lost amidst students who are not encouraged to look back and yet are eagerly awaiting the Christmas break? Not only is this new material often untethered to the previous lessons—for crunch time doesn’t allow for that—but there is little preparation for holding it firm through a two-week holiday hiatus. At what point should there be no new information presented? Consider the point at which the main “arguments” or points have been properly covered, the “proofs” presented, and the “refutations” answered. There is wisdom to be found when that transition happens in a semester, which is a bit more fluid than an actual classical oration. But the divisions should still be there, and there should be a time when the students, like a good audience, are well aware that no new information will be presented.

Like a good peroriatio, the final few weeks of the semester will arouse in the student both indignation against opposition to the class and pity or sympathy toward the teacher and authors studied. There is great opportunity here for the students to internalize what has been said so far this semester in the class. This is indeed what happens to an audience, a final push of pathetic (in the best sense) and sympathetic response to the material covered. End-of-semester exams all-too-often leave students indifferent, logically cold, and unmoved by the course. The final few weeks should be a fork in the road for the students, where they must decide their position on the matter. If there were to encounter a cousin at Christmas dinner who opposed the class they were taking, would they have the posture and preparation to answer them? Over the two-week break of Christmas, when the students think of you and the class, will they have sympathy and affection for it, for the authors, for you, for what you’ve taught them, or will they be indifferent or cold? The final few weeks of a class, like the final portion of a great speech, will require that the audience to take a stance. If done well, they will move closer—in affinity, understanding, and submission—to the entirety of the “speech” and its claims upon them.   

Finally, classically educate like classical Christians, not classical pagans. We cannot ignore that the final few weeks of the fall semester occur during Advent. This matters, for it provides one of the strongest human themes by which to close out your work for the semester. And it is one of the best ways to truly build in our students a Christian imagination, something many Christian schools neglect and something public schools do not have the freedom to practice. What a gift! Do not pass it by. Take it for granted, for it has been granted to us. How does the work you’ve been doing this semester anticipate the coming Christ? Not just liturgically but conceptually, philosophically, thematically? How are the questions raised throughout this long fall semester answered in Christ? How do the tests and quizzes and homework assignments prepare a child’s heart and mind to receive the mangered babe, the incarnate God, the sent Son, the revealed Redeemer, the condescending Christ, the long-awaited Lamb? More subtly, how does the celebration and incorporation of Advent build in our students a strong imagination for the Law of the Review, the law of looking back, of in-spection, of re-viewing.

If our classical Christian schools operate by different principles, then they must do so throughout the entirety of the school calendar. When the culture around us is steeped in a different pace, a different principle, even more so should we reach into those distinctions of classical Christian education and feel great joy in unhooking the wagon, in putting the car in neutral, or reverse, or fifth gear to turn around and revisit that thing we saw back there. And because there is no end-of-grade testing or government agent or modern curriculum constable breathing down our necks, we could make our aim as single- focused as a solitary star, as inglorious as an ancient infant. Do not throw away your scope and sequence, your curriculum plan you put together in July. But throw away the lie that getting through it marks a successful end to the semester.

Like any great speech, the semester, as a classical oration of sorts, is to move, to teach, and to delight. Make this your aim, especially in these final few weeks. Lead your students, but first yourself, in the daring work of simply gazing, of beholding. The Advent season is a contemplative one and provides the framework for the pace, peace, and principles by which we can avoid task-tumbling into the Christmas break. Stude beate.

We ought to be men who take one another’s “word for it.” That is to say, when someone says they are helping an elderly woman out of the goodness of their heart, we ought to believe him until he proves otherwise, or unless his track record makes the purported benevolence suspect. This goes for small things and big things. This is how basic courtesy and kindness function. However, this kind of “benefit of the doubt” gets a bit more complicated when dealing with something as complex as starting a new city.

This is precisely what has happened with St. George, which just yesterday was voted into incorporation, though by no means voted in by a landslide. It has seceded with approximately one-fifth of a capital city in the modern United States and launched the fifth largest municipality in Louisiana.  We must remember there is still approximately 46% of the area which does not support the incorporation. This means that a vast minority of the new St. George citizens will have to take the leadership’s “word for it,” until St. George makes good on its promises. What are those promises?

Let’s just consider one, the most important one. From the very beginning, St. George has pitched itself as a new city pursuing a new educational standard. Rightly fed up with East Baton Rouge Parish schools, proponents of the new municipality have used education reform as the top motivation in creating the newest city in the United States. To be sure, I believe those who have led the St. George break truly want something other than what EBR schools have become. And I truly believe they have an opportunity to not only surpass all the standards but to create a model modern city which is the first of its kind educationally. However, for several reasons, I am also highly suspect that it will happen. Still, if I take the man’s “word for it,” how would they go about creating a new educational model?

1. Look outside the state. They must not only look outside the state, they must look outside the public system to create something worthy of all the effort of starting a new city. Educational leaders in St. George need to look at the national classical movement, the fourth most important educational renaissance in western history; they need to read back in educational treatises from Hesiod to Heidegger. They need to consider a fundamentally different starting point than modern educators have to offer.    
   
2. Get back to the liberal arts. I do not mean getting back to what we think the liberal arts are today. I mean getting back to those core methods and subjects which truly form a child to the five academic competencies of reading, writing, thinking, speaking, and listening. Require logic in middle school and high school. Require rhetoric in high school. Teach grammar properly. Utilize the beauty and bounty of Latin to form the architecture of our children’s linguistic faculties. Teach literature in its historical and artistic brilliance. Require the students to memorize poetry. Teach math and science in the fullness of their claims and not just for their pragmatic and capitalistic ends.
   
3. Major on the majors. There will be lots of people who show up to St. George with an agenda, almost all of them being financial gain or social manipulation, and curbing mischief will have everything to do with the leadership determining he educational majors and the educational minors. The fastest way for the whole thing to go south, other than starting with the wrong fundamentals, is to get side-tracked off the major issues, those few things which have always been at the center of a good city and a good education. The leadership will need to identify “the majors” and then work on those for the next decade. After that, they can consider polishing the minor things, if the success of the major things has not already done so.
   
4. Minor on the minors. If they are going to major on the majors, they must not let the minor things of education creep into becoming distractions or pseudo-majors. What are those? Big sports. Standardized testing. Innumerable electives. First-class facilities. Social clubs. Technology. State accolades. These are the minor things, and they puff their chest up quite often to look like majors. Don’t be fooled.  
   
5. Don’t worry about state testing.  If this seems counter-intuitive to the leaders of St. George, then they have already lost at creating a great education in their new city. Undoubtedly, one of the greatest signs of a weak education is its over-emphasis on end-of-grade testing. Teachers know it. Parents know it. Students know it. History proves it. Future generations will look back at us, if they get it right, and wonder how we could be so short-sighted with education. State testing is a minor thing, if it should be a thing at all. And when the new St. George schools major on the majors in the students’ academics, they will soar past their counterparts on state testing.
   
6. Don’t look at college admissions as the standard for success. This is merely another expression of the previous point. College readiness and admissions testing is a minor issue in a child’s education. Because of that, the child should focus on the major parts of their academic formation and let the minor parts take care of themselves. When the school does push the gas on college admissions testing, they should do so no sooner than the student’s sophomore or junior year. Treat the child like a human whose mind and soul are to be delighted in the glories of learning, and then watch how the much less glorious things of modern education (e.g. standardized testing) are hurdled with no problem and much less anxiety.
   
7. Have a higher standard for teacher readiness and accountability. Our instructors need to be scholars and shepherds. They need to be zealous learners and model citizens. We need administrators willing to make hard decisions on teacher hiring, faculty training, and teacher accountability. The most important thing about the St. George schools will be their teachers, and if the schools go about selecting and training faculty like EBR and LSU propose, they will already lose the education they so desperately want to build.
   
8. Require parent leadership and participation in the schools. This goes beyond PTA. This would be a new standard for parent accessibility, parent sovereignty, parent accountability, teacher relationships with parents, parent education, and parent leadership.  This would put parents in the driver-seat of many things, and it would require the local school to acknowledge that and set up the organizational structure to that end. This could be as simple as no bus system or as complex as parents being required to sign up for one of a number of volunteer and leadership groups in the school.
   
9. Educate the child for their vocation. This does not mean we create technical schools and follow much of Europe’s current model of dividing children in middle school down an academic track or a technical track. This means every child, as much as they are created fully human and ought to be treated with equality, ought to learn to think well, speak well, listen well, read well, and write well, to the fullness of their natural aptitudes and divinely dispensed abilities. They ought to be trained in virtue and not vice. They ought to be matured in their human faculties, guided in their natural aptitudes, and shepherded toward that next stage to which the parent and student sense the student is being called. That could be college. That could be trade school. That could be a job. That could be the military. That could be seminary. That could be a host of other opportunities for that 21st century American student. The higher education bubble is a mess, and we had better realize that it’s a mess into which many of our children are not called to go. If we educate them well, giving them the social and academic foundation for which their souls long, we will be setting them up for whatever they may be called to do, despite technological trends, despite market ups and downs, despite global peace, despite partisan politics, despite the future of Amazon. We would truly be giving them a liberating education.  
   
10. Be brave. This will not happen without some serious conflict, asking hard questions, and being brave enough to answer hard questions asked of the leadership. One of the reasons why Louisiana education continues to prove itself greatly impotent is because we don’t have enough educators willing to be brave. This is most especially true in the public sector.    

So, what are the odds that this will happen? A better question is “How genuine is the leadership of St. George about surpassing all the state and local education standards?” What I have proposed here is a kind of neo-humanism, getting back to education which accords with some of our more central and most human characteristics. More specific, it is a kind of secular literary humanism. What is the center and purpose of such humanism, and can such humanism last? Those answers are for another article. But unless St. George is willing to follow its name and run headlong into a kind of incarnational humanism, the model I’ve proposed here is at least the one most in their reach, a reach which is really a promise to reform education for their new citizens. If the leadership of St. George adopts the same fundamental principles and practices in education as EBR and the rest of the state, if the leadership of St. George is not willing to cast its own mold, if the leadership of St. George sets its roots in the soils of modern education, they will build the same thing from which they are running. If a man wants apples, he had better not plant a peach pit.
 
Brian Daigle is the headmaster of Sequitur Classical Academy in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and is the author of two books on starting schools: So You Want to Start a School? and So You Want to Become a Classical School?  

In response to the “Geneva Dads,” those jolly, thoughtful, and fearless friends:
 
Whether calculation is more frequent than engineering: It is. While all engineering requires calculation, not all calculation leads to engineering. (Engineering as the application of mathematics with the physical sciences, purposed toward technological expression and advancement, and calculation as mathematical reckoning.) We should conclude then that calculation is more frequent than engineering.  
 
Whether calculation is more potent than engineering: It is. Calculation guides the soul toward the truth through the science of numbers, and can do this on its own, prior to the other departments, especially without engineering. It would have done this pre-fall, and it does this post-fall. To be sure, engineering would have as well (pre-fall and post-fall), but an ordered soul precedes an ordered physical space. And because greater potency and authority belong first to the parent and not the child, so it belongs to mathematics over engineering. That is, there is no engineering with calculation. Furthermore, potency belongs first and last to the Lord, and mathematics, especially the “reckoning” at the essence of calculation, resides in the mind of God long before engineering resides on the hands of man. We should conclude then that calculation is more potent than engineering. 
 
Whether mathematics is more than calculation: It is. Mathematics allows for calculation, but it is also arrangement, investigation, measurement, recognition, worship, spiritual enculturation, and in creation spatial enculturation. It is call and response with the science of numbers. To show this, and push against mathematical pragmatism and secular scientific humanism, was the purpose of the original piece on “Rescuing Mathematics from Troy.” That is to say, our classical Christian schools, above any, have the tools to rescue mathematics from inside Troy’s walls, precisely because we see mathematics with greater consideration. Hence, why this thread is happening in the "Geneva Dads FB page" and not over at the Louisiana  Board of Regents meeting. We should conclude then that mathematics is more than calculation. 
 
Whether building or designing requires calculation: Building and designing, either God’s or man’s, always requires mathematics (especially geometry), as Rhabanus Maurus states in his quote. And if we define arithmetic with Maurus as “the science of pure extension determinable by numbers” then designing and building, like music, also requires arithmetic. This is why I have called architecture, “concrete poetics,” or “visual music made with rocks.” And if we see the word calculation for what it is, then we should not forget that calculus is Latin for stone. By definition building is calculation and designing is "marking out." We should conclude then that building or designing requires arithmetic, geometry, and calculation. 
 
Whether the purpose of learning can be known: It can be known. It is not only known, but it can be gained. The purpose of learning is to accomplish that which sums up all the law and the prophets: that we would love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and that we would love our neighbors as ourselves. Learning for us exists, then, to repair, restrain, reconcile, rejoice, which all lead to the ultimate end, the education which God gives: “The education that God gives is the imparting of the truth that will guide us correctly to the contemplation of God, and a description of holy deeds that endure forever.” (Clement of Alexandria, “Christ the Educator”)
 
Whether that is also my purpose in learning: In my finest hours, yes. In my worst, no. In Christ, it will be so.
 
Whether pizza stirs the soul more than mathematics: “For just as a child cannot be born without a mother, so without the rudiments of geometry, pizza would have never come into existence. We must, therefore, forsake the pagan way of cutting circle pizzas into square pieces, and we must likewise do all we can to ensure mathematical order is respected by no crude or disproportionate slices.” – Basil of Little Caesarea, “De Pepperonicis”

by Brian G. Daigle

 
Like Helen, many things have been abducted and taken from their homes, brought as a foreigner among a strange city, perhaps enticed there by a beautiful Parisian prince. Many such things indeed. Despite, however, what one’s sentiments are toward Helen’s culpability in her fiasco, we can rest assured that in the abduction of mathematics, math itself has merely been the victim. There is no Aphrodite strong enough to entice mathematics away from her family and friends. She is too dependent upon them; they are too dependent upon her. But abducted is the current state of mathematics in education.   
 
To be sure, mathematics is good for children. Mathematics is very good for childhood. Mathematics is necessary for childishness. Yet, even with all the push in mathematics and the sciences, there is a real sense that math instructors may feel quite isolated in today’s classical Christian academy. There are a few reasons for this, some which the classical community must own and fix as soon as possible, but the main reason is that mathematics in general has gone through quite a change over the past few centuries. In academic institutions and popular sentiment, mathematics has been captured, removed from its home, and placed inside a four-walled room closed in by technology, economics, business, and engineering. But math must be liberated, and here is how it starts. Take these quotes and read them to your math classes. Consider the much broader and more beautiful place mathematics has in the formation of our souls. Consider, “non-math” teachers, how math finds its place among the beauties and bounties of your subject.
 
“…I even commend that which has been set up in our own day—I mean geometry, astronomy, and the so-called eristic dialogues…I urge those who are inclined towards these disciplines to work hard and apply themselves to all of them, saying that even if this learning can accomplish no other good, at any rate it keeps the young out of many other things which are harmful. Nay, I hold that for those who are at this age no more helpful or fitting occupation can be found than the pursuit of these studies.”  - Isocrates, Panathenaicus
 
“You have been wishing to know my views with regard to liberal studies. My answer is this: I respect no study, and deem no study good, which results in money-making. Such studies are profit-bringing occupations, useful only in so far as they give the mind a preparation and do not engage it permanently. One should linger upon them only so long as the  mind can occupy itself with nothing greater; they are our apprenticeship, not our real work. Hence you see why ‘liberal studies’ are so called; it is because they are studies worthy of a free-born gentleman. But there is only one really liberal study,--that which gives a man his liberty. It is the study of wisdom, and that is lofty, brave, and great-souled. All other studies are puny and puerile. You surely do not believe that there is good in any of the subjects whose teachers are, as you see, men of the  most ignoble and base stamp? We ought not to be learning such things; we should have done with learning them…The mathematician teaching me how to lay out the dimensions of my estates; but I should rather be taught how to lay out what is enough for a man to own. He teaches me to count and adapts my fingers to avarice; but I should prefer him to teach me that there is no point in such calculations, and that one is non the happier for tiring out the bookkeepers with his possessions—or rather, how useless property is to any man who would find it the greatest misfortune if he should be required to reckon out, by his own wits, the amount of his holdings. What good is there for me in knowing how to parcel out a piece of land, if I know not how to share it with my brother? What good is there in working out to a nicety the dimensions of an acre, and in detecting the error if a piece has so much as escaped my measuring-rod, if I am embittered when an ill-tempered neighbor merely scrapes off a bit of my land? The mathematician teaches me how I may lose none of my boundaries; I, however, seek to learn how to lose them all with a light heart...You know how to measure the circle; you find the square of any shape which is set before you; you compute the distances between the stars; there is nothing which does not come with the scope of your calculations. But if you are a real master of your profession, measure me the mind of man! Tell me how great it is, or how puny! You know what a straight line is; but how does it benefit you if you do not know what is straight in this life of ours?” – Seneca, On Liberal and Vocational Studies
 
“And geometry, sowing the seeds of equality and just proportion in the soul, which is fond of learning, will, by means of the beauty of continued contemplation, implant in you an admiration of justice.” – Philo, On Mating with the Preliminary Studies
 
“Arithmetic is the science of pure extension determinable by number; it is the science of numbers. Writers on secular science assign it, under the head of mathematics, to the first place, because it does not presuppose any of the other departments. Music, geometry, and astronomy, on the contrary, need the help of arithmetic; without it they cannot arise or exist…the holy Fathers were right in advising those eager for knowledge to cultivate arithmetic, because in large measure it turns the mind from fleshly desires, and furthermore awakens the wish to comprehend what with God’s help we can merely receive with the heart. Therefore the significance of number cannot be underestimated. Its very great value for an interpretation of many passages of Holy Scripture is manifest to all who exhibit zeal in their investigations. Not without good reason is it said in praise of God, ‘Thou has ordained all things by measure, number, and weight’ (Book of Wisdom 11:21).” – Rhabanus Maurus, Education of the Clergy
 
“…the Holy Trinity makes use of geometry in so far as it bestows manifold forms and images upon the creatures which up to the present day it has called into being, as in its adorable omnipotence it further determines the course of the stars, as it prescribes their course to the planets, and as it assigns to the fixed stars their unalterable position. For every, excellent, and well-ordered arrangement can be reduced to the special requirements of this science…This science found realization also at the building of the tabernacle and temple; the same measuring rod, circles, spheres, hemispheres, quadrangles, and other figures were employed. The knowledge of all this brings to him, who is occupied with it, no small gain for his spiritual culture.” Rhabanus Maurus, Education of the Clergy

by Brian G. Daigle

Liturgy, in both the broad and the narrow sense, has many layers. It is a much larger word than we tend to think; it has an even wider presence than we recognize. As much as we may tout ourselves for having entered into or grown up in "a liturgical tradition," the truth of the matter is so has every one else. Liturgy is life, and life is liturgical. Even still, there are particular restraints and expressions which have come about in distinctly Christian liturgies. Below are some helpful classifications of liturgy with corresponding resources. 

Natural or Cultural Liturgy 
Homo Liturgicus is true of every person. Therefore, we ought to see the artifacts, signs, and results of liturgy in every society. We ought to see the divine spark to live liturgically in every person. This is the first, broadest, and most comprehensive category concerning an "anthropology of liturgy." 

• Awaiting the King: Reforming Public Theology by James K. A. Smith 
• Cultural Adaptation of the Liturgy by Chupungco, Anscar J., O.S.B. 
• Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation by James K.A. Smith
• Imagining the Kingdom: How Worship Works by James K. A. Smith 
• Liturgy of the Ordinary: Sacred Practices in Everyday Life by Tish Harrison Warren and Andy Crouch 
• Liturgical Sense: The Logic of Rite by Louis Weil
• Liturgy and Secularism: Beyond the Divide by Joris Geldhof 
• Liturgical Inculturation: Sacramentals, Religiosity, and Catechesis
• You Are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit by James K. A. Smith  

Biblical Liturgy 
This is the liturgical patterning and standards we see in the Old and New Testaments. The patterns employ archetypes, even divine commands and prescriptions, for how God's people ought to pattern their lives, behaviors, desires, and activities based on how we are to live before God and alongside one another. 

• Christ-Centered Worship: Letting the Gospel Shape Our Practice by Bryan Chapell
• From Silence to Song: The Davidic Liturgical Revolution by Peter J. Leithart 
• For the Glory of God: Recovering a Biblical Theology of Worship by Daniel I. Block 
• Holy Things: A Liturgical Theology by Gordon W. Lathrop
• Introduction to Liturgical Theology by Alexander Schmeman
• The Liturgy of Creation: Understanding Calendars in Old Testament Context by Michael LeFebvre and C. John Collins 
•  Liturgical Theology: The Church as Worshiping Community by Simon Chan
• On Liturgical Theology by Aidan Kavanagh
• The Oxford History of Christian Worship by Geoffrey Wainwright (editor)
• Saving Images: The Presence of the Bible in Christian Liturgy by Gordon W. Lathrop
• The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship: Sources and Methods for the Study of Early Liturgy by 
• Paul F. Bradshaw
• The Study of Liturgy by Cheslyn Jones 
• The Theopolitan Vision by Peter J Leithart 

​
Ecclesial Liturgy 
This is the denominational and local expression of liturgical practice, informed and shaped by a church's theology, doctrine, and values. Each church employs liturgical practices, even if they are inconspicuous or perhaps reflective of the broader and non-Christian culture. 

• The Accidental Anglican: The Surprising Appeal of the Liturgical Church by Todd D. Hunter and J. I. Packer
• A Biblical Walk Through the Mass: Understanding What We Say and Do In The Liturgy by Edward Sri 
• A Bitter Trial: Evelyn Waugh & John Cardinal Heenan on the Liturgical Changes by Evelyn Waugh
• Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy by Denis R. McNamara and Scott Hahn 
• Ceremonies of the Eucharist: A guide to Celebration by Howard E. Galley
• Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove , et al.
• The Divine Liturgy: A Commentary in the Light of the Fathers by Hieromonk Gregorios and Elizabeth Theokritoff
• Elements of Offering: Principles, Practices, and Pointers for Anglican Liturgy by Julian OJN, Fr. John- and Royce Miller 
• The Eucharistic Liturgies: Their Evolution and Interpretation by Paul F. Bradshaw 
• Ever Ancient, Ever New: The Allure of Liturgy for a New Generation by Winfield Bevins and Scot McKnight
• For the Life of the World: Sacraments and Orthodoxy by Alexander Schmemann
• Foundations of Liturgy: An Introduction to Its History and Practice by Adolf Adam and Matthew J. O'Connell 
• The Heavenly Banquet: Understanding the Divine Liturgy by Fr. Emmanuel Hatzidakis 
• Heresy of Formlessness by Martin Mosebach
• History of the Liturgy: The Major Stages by Marcel Metzger and Madeleine Beaumont
• Let Us Attend: A Journey Through the Orthodox Divine Liturgy by Lawrence R. Farley 
• Liturgies of the Western Church by Bard Thompson (Editor)
• Liturgy and Personality by von Hildebrand, Dietrich, von Hildebrand, Alice, et al. 
• The Liturgy Of The Hours In East And West by Robert F. Taft
• The Mass of the Roman Rite: Its Origins and Development by Josef A. Jungmann
• Of Water and the Spirit: A Liturgical Study of Baptism by Alexander Schmemann
• The Orthodox Liturgy: The Development of the Eucharistic Liturgy in the Byzantine Rite by Hugh Wybrew 
• Resurgent in the Midst of Crisis: Sacred Liturgy, the Traditional Latin Mass, and Renewal in the Church by Peter Kwasniewski (Foreword)
• The Shape of the Liturgy by Gregory Dix
• The Spirit of the Liturgy by Benedict XVI (Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger
• The Spirit of the Liturgy by Romano Guardini

by Brian G. Daigle

I have been greatly blessed by my time in the ACNA (Anglican Church of North America), and I am thankful to be planting my roots and my family's roots deeper into its soil. When it comes to the present and future health of Anglicanism in the United States, there are many encouraging, exciting, and exemplary things about which to cheer and give thanks, and I do both of those regularly. That must be said on the outset to ensure that my upcoming critique is heard from a spirit of love and commitment, and not a parting shot as I storm out of the house and jeer back at my ecclesial parents.

But there is a growing concern I've had, a concern I'd like to present, subsequently offering what I believe to be a reliable path upon which to move forward. One of my greatest disappointments, having now "lived" in the ACNA house for the past three years, is the ironic lack of Anglicanism when it comes to how we define, practice, and discuss "discipleship." The first time I noticed the deficit was at the 2017 Provincial Assembly when I attended a seminar on discipleship. It was the only seminar offered on discipleship, and I was eager to learn how the discussion looked at the provincial level. Since then, I have paid close attention to discussions on the topic, publications on its ideas, and the general terms used when trying to speak of it. The same deficit I experienced at Wheaton resounds broadly in the ACNA: there is far more "Evangelicalism" in our understanding of discipleship than there is historical Anglicanism. There is far more "Protestantism" in our understanding of discipleship than there is Biblical Reformation or Christendom. As the ACNA sorts its way through the 21st century, as dioceses become geographical, as doctrine is recovered and lived out, as we get serious about a distinctly Christian way of life together, we must recover Anglican discipleship. 

For us to recover a true Anglican discipleship, we must recover a deep and abiding sense of ten important features of Anglicanism and discipleship. Much can be said on each feature, but I will limit each explanation here to only a few sentences.   

1) The Sacraments. Baptism will provide for us the sign and seal inaugurating one's discipleship, and the Eucharist will provide for us the activity to which and from which all discipleship flows. In this way we will be able to clearly distinguish between having friendships with non-Christians, evangelizing non-Christians, and further forming Christians. The Sacraments are the earthly beginning, middle, and end of discipleship.  So, that's where we begin. 

2) The Scriptures. Knowing, abiding in, memorizing, and loving God's Word is not just a mark of a true disciple; it is how a Christian is discipled. To be discipled then does not simply mean we accrue as many proof texts to support our denominational distinctions. It means we rest in the Scriptures, we saturate our imaginations with the Scriptures, we study the Scriptures, we sing the Scriptures, we pray the Scriptures, and we share the Scriptures. This it is, along with the sacraments, which are most important to making disciples of Jesus Christ, the Living Word of God. 

3) The Church Calendar. Here is the importance of the feasting and fasting of discipleship. It is the idea that a disciple of Christ will have a particular posture, a maturing and sacred posture, concerning time, humility, and joy. We cannot be discipled into anything, secular or sacred, without altering our sense of time. 

4) The Liturgy. Discipleship cannot happen outside the body of Christ, and it cannot happen without attention to one's individual body. As Anglicans, the liturgy satisfies both needs in discipleship. A strong liturgy disciplines the heart, soul, mind, and strength. It does so in fellowship with others. It does so with consistency and repetition. 

5) Education. There is no discipleship without education. I do not simply mean the narrow sense of elementary schooling. I do mean that, but I also mean a Christian view of education in general, a biblical understanding of the life of the mind and the five academic disciplines: reading, writing, speaking, listening, and thinking. Discipleship means knowing what to do with our children, knowing that they are being formed toward or away from God everywhere they are and by every person we put before them as instructors. To put it mildly, the lack of classical Christian education in the Anglican church is alarming, though there are pockets of intentionality across the United States. Anglicanism, however, is not alone in this confusion. It has simply followed 21st century Christianity in its educational lethargy and ignorance. This cannot remain the case if we intend to recover Anglican discipleship. In addition to a strong and Christian academic formation, a Christian disciple ought to also be formed by way of catechesis, an important part of historical and Anglican discipleship, and one too often relegated to Confirmation. However, while catechesis would fall under the more general title of "education" it also has "cross-jurisdiction" among the ten features here. 

6) The Fathers. Anglicans have an important and peculiar history concerning "fathers." As Anglicans, we have high regard for the Church Fathers. We, in our priests, have spiritual fathers, and even call them by this name. We have a high view of biological or domestic fathers. And of course we are overtly Trinitarian, and so we honor God the Father. All that to say, Anglican discipleship is distinctly paternal at many levels, and therefore it is deeper and richer than the current state of Evangelical or Protestant principles and practices concerning discipleship. 

7) A Vocation. As Anglicans we believe God calls individuals to not just be in the Church, but to also be in the world, to fulfill their civic involvement for the glory of God and love of one's neighbor. This means discipleship is not just a matter of spiritual and emotional maturity, it is likewise a matter of philosophical, vocational, and political maturity. That is to say, discipleship is not just about "making better Christians," it is about making a man a more mature artist or plumber, or making a woman a more mature mother or doctor.  In this way, the vast majority of discipleship programs are doing great harm to true discipleship. 

8) Our Literature and Art. Anglican discipleship is as much about the imagination as it is about one's spiritual health. To be an Anglican is to see the world and oneself in a unique way. It is to see the story of the world in a way which may be distinct from one's Roman Catholic or Southern Baptist friends. In this way, systematic theology or 40-day Bible programs will not do for recovering an Anglican discipleship. We must read the great Anglican poets, contemplate those great artists in our tradition, and study the great Anglican literature which God has so sweetly given to us. And we must do what we can to raise a new generation of the same. 

9) Extraordinary Relationships. In a recent group discussion on discipleship, I heard a fellow clergyman say that one-on-one discipleship schemes are "extraordinary means of discipleship." What he meant by this is that discipleship happens first by those ordinary means of grace and community we have as Anglicans: our home, our children, friendships, Sunday liturgy, the Daily Office, and private prayer and study. The one-on-one, structured discipleship moments are indeed special, but they are few, and they are extraordinary to recovering Anglican discipleship. Not only because of their practical difficulty, but also because of their essential attributes, which are more schematic. 

10) Life Together. Anglican discipleship is life together; it is the organic power of a domestic godliness which finds its way into each and every relationship. This it is which will form our children, our churches, and our communities to Christ. Whether laity or clergy, we need not think that we must choose between "discipling" our families or "discipling" the new college student who has started coming to the church. We disciple the college student by living as God has called us to, day in and day out, and by bringing him, and whoever else, alongside that daily Christian work. As Mcluhan said, "the medium is the message." The "medium" of Anglican discipleship is daily life, life together. 

It's important to note that while many of these are not exclusive to Anglicanism, the Anglican Church gets its portraiture from placing emphases on these over other features. That is to say, while some of these may be found in other denominations, they must be found in a recovery of Anglican discipleship, and it is only there where all ten will show up with the kind of vigor and centrality they deserve. 

I spent the vast majority of my undergraduate studies in a campus ministry which taught me that discipleship meant one-on-one coffee meetings, Bible studies between individuals, co-evangelizing the dorms, and the occasional nod toward the local church. My attraction to Anglicanism some years ago had to do with the fullness by which it approached all of life, filling out those areas which the college ministry had neglected. When people ask why I am Anglican, as opposed to Presbyterian or Roman Catholic or Orthodox, I tell them, "Because it is the most mature expression of the Gospel." This maturity must be recovered in how we think about and practice biblical discipleship. If Anglicanism is the most mature expression of the Gospel, than a mature Christianity in the United States must mean Anglicanism. And a recovery of Anglicanism will require a recovery of Anglican discipleship. 

by Brian G. Daigle

I find that I regularly speak certain truths to myself, in this stage of life, and I find those truths being further driven into my heart and soul by various conversations and relationships the Lord has brought my way, sometimes with family members and sometimes with strangers in the coffee shop. If you are in a season of unemployment, here is some advice I have not only lived but have found to be helpful to others:
 
No Christian is unemployed. If I leave it at this, then I have merely equivocated the term “employed” and left the reader dissatisfied, having received no advice from an entry titled “Advice to the Unemployed.” In one sense, you may be gainfully unemployed right now, but because your vocation is greater than professional employment, you are in another sense never unemployed. In your basic humanity, you are always employed to continue in this life with vigor and joy. In your Christian baptism, you are always employed by God to be working upward, to be pursuing holiness and love and joy and spiritual maturity. So while you are currently without work, there is indeed much work to do.
 
Work is good. Look for work. During this season of unemployment, get not comfortable with the lack of direction or labor. The lack of employment should be unsettling for you, because work is good. It is right to labor in your city, alongside your fellow man, to be tired, to extend your gifts to others, to help others with their mission, and then to be paid a fair wage for that work. So, while you wait on the Lord, keep the desire to work alive; don’t let the lack of interviews or the lack of a consistent schedule or the lack of colleagues dull your desire to work. And look for work daily, even if it’s not the best option. Get as many options for work as possible, and then choose the best one. Apply to jobs daily. Talk with people. Take every meeting. Hustle, which I will discuss later. Hustle, because work is good.  
 
Major. Minor 1. Minor 2. I have offered this advice over the past few months, and it has consistently been received with great appreciation, but only because I first told it to myself and live it month after month. Do not think you must find that one job which gives all you need and takes all your energy. Think about it this way: first, find a “Major.” Find a first job that provides 60% of your income and takes up 60% of your time and energy. Then, find a “Minor 1.” Find other work that provides 25% of your income and takes up about 25% of your time. This will likely be something you want to be the Major but that has not yet become the Major, perhaps an interest or hobby. Then, find a “Minor 2.” Find a third field of work that provides the remaining 15% of your income and takes up 15% of your time. Again, this may be a hobby, or a small risk you are willing to take. Commit to these for 6 months, and see what the Lord blesses. If you are an artist, go find 20-30 hours of employment a week, doing something. Then, for your Minor 1 and Minor 2, seek to teach art, or pursue art commissions, or assist an art studio, or write about art. It may be the case the work you’ve chosen will stay your Major, Minor 1, and Minor 2 for a few years. This has been the case for me. It may also be the case that your Minor 1 becomes your Major in a few months, and you drop your Minor 2 altogether because your Major and Minor 1 are having greater success than you expected. In this way, you can take a risk in some areas you want success (Minor 1 and Minor 2) without neglecting your responsibility to provide for your family or to do good work. Modern capitalism, and especially the rise of creative employment, is showing us that more people today have multiple jobs than ever before. This diversification of your portfolio is healthy, and it allows you to exercise a variety of strengths without taking risks that could be financially or professionally harmful. I often give this advice to those in their twenties, who have many interests, but also feel the pressure to be responsibly employed. “Yes,” I tell them, “go get responsibly employed in a Major, and then put together a Minor 1 and Minor 2, and see what may happen in the coming year.”
 
Do good every day. The Lord may not have provided you with gainful employment right now, but he has given you many other things. We cannot determine all the reasons why your job stopped, or what the Lord may do with this turn in the plot, but one of the reasons why he may have taken gainful employment from you is so that you can take greater care of other areas: your family, your city, your soul, your physical health, your church, your other interests. You cannot grow anxious and care for the things God has not given you. God is an ontological master, and that means he cares about the things he brings into being, and he asks you to do the same. Take care of what God has given you. So you planted five fruits and only three have actually survived. Care for the ones that are. Care for the ones God has grown, the ones still there, and see what may happen. This does not mean you cannot replant the others, only that this is what God has blessed and has maintained for you, so do not presume on your own wisdom above his. My mom was recently in between jobs, and she found herself a few months out of work and trying to decide what to do next. She was a model person in this regard: she realized that God gave her this time and space in order to care for her aging parents, in very specific and practical ways. And she did. She was able to serve her brothers and sister in helping her elderly parents transition from their home to assisted living, to adjust the finances, to sell their childhood home (which my grandfather built), and to assist everyone emotionally in that transition. She could not have done this still working, and so we can see in retrospect that the Lord cut that tree so that she could tend to the other.  
 
The gift of time. Work is a gift. Money is a gift. Time is a gift. It’s all a gift, so what do you plan to do with it? God may have taken from you your job and the corresponding income, but he has now filled up your world with more time than you thought possible, and he did it unexpectedly. Surprise! “A gift?” you say. “This is not the surprise I wanted!” Maybe not, but it’s the one you got, and, believe it or not, it’s a gift. So what do you plan to do with all that time? Who needs your time? God has given me and my family a lot of things, lots of money is not one of them, even when I’m working hard, at my Major, Minor 1, and Minor 2. But he has given me abilities and time and other gifts. What am I doing with those? Time is no less of a commodity than money. It is perhaps even more precious because we all have the exact same amount, and that means some big things are expected of our decisions. Who can you love with your time? Go for it, and you may just find that in the path of loving others with your time, you find gainful employment.
 
Hustle. Don’t get down. What good is that going to do? Take a breath, and hustle. How you leave something is just as important as how you start the next thing. In fact, how you leave your old job is important for how you are prepared for your new job, when the Lord decides to give it. Deal with the disappointment and surprise of the unemployment, and then get a plan and hustle. Keep a good schedule. Time block your responsibilities. Maintain (or get) a healthy diet. Exercise. Take care of your room and your house. Enjoy leisure with friends. See what needs to be done this day, and do it. One of my favorite quotes is from Isaac Watts: “Study without prayer is atheism, as well as prayer without study is presumption.” You should work. You should pray. You should prayerfully hustle. Apply to jobs each day. Use your time well. Read. Search out and take care of your soul. Get in a healthier place than when you left your job, a healthier place than when you were in your last job. You cannot control God’s timing and his gifts, but you can control your prayer life and your work ethic. Do that. Hustle, and go to bed tired six out of the seven days a week. See what comes of your labor. 
 
I got my first job out of college, at twenty-two years old. I was hired as the commercial project manager of a small construction company in Baton Rouge. It was not my first love, or my fifth, but it was work, in a field I somewhat enjoyed and studied in college. And it fit some of my gifts. Some new friends had pulled some strings and gotten me that job, and so I was thankful for them. I was in that job from May 2008 to August 2008. In August, the economic recession hit, and because the other project manager was the veteran, they let me go, along with half the company. I spent the next few months unemployed. Not married. No kids. Living on savings, and wondering what to do. Those were some of the sweetest months of my life. In those few months, I learned to live simply, to hustle, to do good each day, to trust God’s love, to use my time wisely, to enjoy leisure, to manage my finances with greater scrutiny, to pursue other interests I had, to enjoy the gift of time, to ask others for help, to pray fervently, to serve my local church with my time, to build good relationships with men around me, to realize I was, after all, very much still employed by God. It was because of this season of unemployment I read and studied like I never had. I began to love literature, philosophy, education, theology, the local church, and friendships like I never had. It was at the tail end of this unemployment, in November 2008, that I “fell backwards into” education. And things have tumbled into place ever since.  

by Brian G. Daigle

I received an email from a friend asking my thoughts on how it is we love God and how it is we know we love God. The initial email voiced a concern about loving the things God gives us vs. loving God for himself. Here is my response: 
​

Matthew, 

Thanks for contacting me with your question. I'd be happy to provide some preliminary thoughts. 

It appears you posed a number of questions in your initial message: 

What does it mean to love God? 
What causes me to love God?
How does one love God? 
Why does one love God? 

While these are four different questions, I think I can condense your inquiry down to a single question: What is a biblical motivation for our loving God? I could have also asked the question "What is a God-honoring motivation for loving God?" My answer will be in two parts: 1) We love God because who he is, and 2) We know who he is because how he reveals himself to us. 

We love God because who he is. You touched on this in your message when you said "My own conclusion to this is that we see the loveliness of God within the gifts he gives us..." This is exactly right, and it is supported in every book of Scripture and by experience. The things God gives us (everything) are intended not as ends but as symbols, moments, opportunities, words, revelations, songs, vehicles, or whatever metaphor you'd like, which point us or bring us to God. At the beginning and end of every gift is a giver, and the purpose of every gift is to lead us into greater intimacy with the giver. You give your wife a gift, because you want her to love that gift, but more than that, you want her to love you with greater joy and intimacy because of the gift you gave, when you gave it, and how you gave it. You give your children gifts, not so they would take the gift and ignore you, but so that your fellowship with them would be greater than before you gave the gift. God speaks the world into existence moment by moment, because he is a groom who has called a bride. And that bride is to ultimately delight in the groom, to follow every gift back to the groom's face, the groom's character, the groom's virtue, the groom's intrinsic beauty. If she does not, she is a harlot, who delights in the groom only for his utility to her.  

We know who God is because how he reveals himself to us, and so we also love the things he gives us. The interesting thing about the question, and about what many Christians believe, is that we have adopted what some call a "soft dualism." We all but ignore the fact that God created the material world and reveals himself by it. I took a class on the body in graduate school. I can share some of those books with you, but the class was a paradigm changer for me. It caused me to see that having bodies is not just incidental in the Christian view of things; it is essential; it is blessed; it is good and redeeming. It is necessary. This is proven in Christ's Incarnation, throughout his earthly ministry, and in his passion, death, resurrection, ascension, and session. Some have called this "Incarnational Humanism." It's a beautiful concept. And the idea, in summary, is that we love the things of this world, the things of humanity, because Christ came to redeem them, to sanctify them as his own, and because when seen rightly, good gifts bring our hearts and imaginations and souls and bodies to Christ. So, while Christ's kingdom isn't an earthly kingdom, as some of the Jews suspected, it is an earthy kingdom. It is a kingdom, a realm of glory, that is materialistic, in the denotative sense.

​To restate what you said in your email, "My own conclusion to this is that we see the loveliness of God within the very gifts he gives us (a sunrise, my wife's embrace, my child's laughter, crickets under a full moon, etc.) and therefore I love Him through these 'declarations of his glory' as the psalmist says." This is quite right, and you should lean into developing this more in how you see things. It is one of the greatest missing doctrines in our contemporary churches. We may call this the doctrine of the Lordship of Christ. I'll save the details, but in short it says that to the Christian, and even often to the natural, unredeemed man, everything is a moment of grace, a moment of God revealing his love to us. Oh, if we could see it. As we follow every gift to his hand, we need not fear that enjoying the gift for the sake of the giver may lead to idolatry. We always risk idolatry, but the antidote to it is precisely this: we love creation because it ultimately brings us to the Creator, who is the source of all beauty and goodness and truth and joy and happiness and delight. John Piper called this kind of thing "Christian hedonism."

I would take one step further, though, and say that it is only by truly loving what God gives us do we prove our love for God. As Christians we are not Platonists or ascetics. We do not set oursleves up in our rooms day in and day out, strip ourselves of all we have, and say we are searching for a pure and formless love for God. To love God is to respect, honor, care for, maintain, beautify, redeem, sanctify, bless, and be obedient with the things he has given us. We saw this in Adam. How did Adam show his unfallen love for God? He physically took care of what God gave him. It is an active love, a material love. Loving our neighbor is the most obvious expression of this, and the most concrete expression of loving our neighbor is being a part of the local church, the local body of Christ. It is the same way with being a father or husband. How do you know your children love you? Because they care for the things you've given them, and they respect your voice. How do you know they respect your voice? You see their atoms rightly handle other atoms. They also show you physical affection. All these are bodily things. The opposite is also true. How do you know your children do not love you? They do with the stuff precisely what you asked them not to do with the stuff (i.e. they disrespect your wife, they punch the walls, they key the car, they use their vocal chords to shame you, they waste the money you gave them, etc.). All love for God is a biblical love for things on this earth, but not all love for the things of this earth is a love for God.  That last point is important for you to ponder, based on what you expressed in your email.  

A Trinitarian love. The highest form of love, love perfected, is not in how God loves us or in how we love God, but in how God loves himself. There is a love eternally subsisting between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This is an ontological love, an essential love, a love of being, and it is ultimately a love based purely on self-giving. The Father loves the Son, not because of the Son's obedience to the Father, but because of the Son's essence, his nature, which is in perfect submission to the Father. Out of the essence of the Son we have that he was begotten of the Father and therefore was perfectly obedient to the Father, obedient even to death on a cross. So notice the play between "the Son loved in himself" and "the Son being revealed to us and manifested in his earthly obedience." Does the Father love the Son in himself? Yes! Does the Father love the Son for his earthly obedience? Yes! This is love perfected, the kind of love we ought to have for God and our neighbor. We love our neighbor because the image of God dwells therein, because God has loved my neighbor, and because God calls me to love my neighbor. But because they are my neighbor, there will be earthly transactions happening between us (time and space and matter), and I ought not to be afraid that the love shared is a bodily and material love, a love of action and humanity, for Christ showed us how this should look, in bodily form. There is much to be said here, but that should suffice for now. 

In all this you are right to be careful about what you love and why. The heart is deceitful, and we can think we are loving God when really we love how God makes us feel, what God does for me. One litmus test for this is heaven. I once heard a pastor ask, "If Jesus were not in heaven, would you still want to go there?" It causes us, especially those raised in the south with all kinds of religious lingo, to check our affections, to check the motivations and end of our desires. If I want to go to heaven simply because I'll see and party with all my loved ones, I neither understand heaven nor do I understand love. I am merely appropriating some religious idea for my own benefit. 

Regarding little things and our love for God, I write more here and here and here. 

To summarize, because we are embodied beings, knowing God is bound up in time and space and matter. That is to say, we cannot separate knowing God from what God gives us. To know what God gives us (our bodies, our children, the natural world, intelligence, art, friendship, etc.) is to know God and how he has chosen to reveal himself to us. We are right to love the things God gives us, because in giving them to us, God gives us himself. And we love them not in themselves, but because they lead us to God. For certainly, there is basis neither in Scripture nor in experience which testifies that we ought to hate the things God has given us, especially if he has given them to us to love. To say it another way, I don't love God because he is useful; I love God because he is God. It just so happens that loving God is also the most beneficial and useful thing to a human. 

A complimentary question, by the way, to the one explored here is "Why do I hate sin?" The ultimate answer should be, "I hate my sin--not because it makes me feel bad, though it does, and not because it can get me in trouble with others, though it can, and not because it shrivels my soul and causes others pain, though it does. I hate my sin for all this, but I ultimately hate my sin because it draws me away from the blessed presence of my holy and loving Father, in whom my soul delights." So, why do I love my children? Not because they are enjoyable people, though they are, and not because God commands I do so, though he does, and not because it makes my wife a happier person, though it does, and not because it will likely give my children greater success as humans, though it will, and not because it will be a blessing on their future community, though it will. These are all benefits of loving my children, but the greatest reason I love my children is because it brings me closer to God (and it brings them closer to God), to be obedient with one of the greatest gifts God has given me. When I am faithful with God's gifts, God draws near, and this is the greatest gift, that God gives himself to me. And as he gives himself to me, I want even more to give myself to my children. Oh, blessed cycle. 

I so happen to be working on a reading guide to Augustine's Confessions. If you have not read Confessions, you should get together a group of men and go for it. It will answer many of the questions above, and even raise some wonderfully new ones. In short, Augustine spends the majority of his life purposefully walking away from God, the Christian God his mother faithfully followed. Augustine became a renowned rhetoric professor throughout the Roman Empire. Through a series of important moments in his life, his disbelief is first suspended and then ultimately overcome by a great belief in and love for the Triune God. Augustine wrote Confessions later in his life as a Bishop of Hippo, and there are two main themes you can follow in the text: 1) How and why does the soul long to journey to God, who is our home, and 2) What does it mean to love God and why?  

Thank you again for reaching out on this, and I hope what I've provided blesses your path ahead. 


Christ in All, All in Christ, 
Brian