An Unlikely Intellectual Role Model

I’ve read many books about the life and views Augustine of Hippo (AD 354–430)—my favorite theologian/philosopher and arguably the most influential Christian thinker outside the New Testament writers. Yet Edward L. Smither’s book Augustine as Mentor: A Model for Preparing Spiritual Leaders, is the first book I’ve seen that addresses Augustine’s role as a mentor. And it’s left me wondering, What does it mean to be a genuine mentor?

I’ve benefitted from a number of mentors in my life (and hope I serve as a faithful guide to certain people, especially my children). For example, my baseball coach, John Moseley, influenced my early life. And my first philosophy professor, Douglas Wessell, helped me significantly as a young college student. In the field of Christian apologetics, my old boss and teacher Dr. Walter R. Martin inspired and challenged me in important ways. Today my RTB colleague and friend Dr. Dave Rogstad serves as an important spiritual advisor.

The article below is a piece that I wrote a couple of years ago about my first and most important mentor—my dad.

My father, Jesse Alexander Samples Jr., was born and raised in what was at the time the poorest county in the poorest state in America—Clay County, West Virginia. Growing up in the Appalachian hills during the Great Depression, my father’s parents lost their farm because they couldn’t afford to pay the property taxes owed on it. My dad subsequently dropped out of school in the fifth or sixth grade in order to work and help support his family. As a young adult he worked hard as a coal miner going down deep into those dangerous mines.

My father turned 21 in 1939; that same year World War II broke out in Europe. A couple years later the Empire of Japan attacked America’s naval base at Pearl Harbor and the United States was at war with the Axis powers of Japan, Germany, and Italy. My dad served his country as a frontline combat soldier in the European Theatre. He fought at the Battle of the Bulge, was wounded, and eventually received three medals for valor.

As a member of an American infantry division that liberated a Nazi concentration camp, my dad knew that ideas (and especially ideologies) mattered and had inevitable consequences. My father came to view the bloodiest war in human history (more than 60 million deaths) as a powerful conflict over political ideologies.

My Father’s Five Intellectual Characteristics

While my father never made it to high school, he possessed a very bright mind and a passion for knowledge and learning. Although self-conscious at times about his lack of formal education, my dad was a self-educated man and his intellectual instincts helped anchor my pursuit of the life of the mind.

1. Love of Ideas: My father loved to talk about the big questions of life. At the dinner table, my dad would raise issues relating to religion, politics, philosophy, and history. I came to view mealtimes as a special time to discuss ideas and argue one’s point of view.

2. Value of Books: Though my father worked hard as an automobile mechanic, at the end of the day he would inevitably read. He enjoyed the world of discovery provided by good books and consistently sought out books that addressed provocative issues of interest.

3. Craving for Learning: My father attempted to stay abreast of news and current events. His daily ritual included reading the morning newspaper and watching the evening television news intently. God forbid if you talked while my dad was watching the CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite.

4. Trust in Reason: My father viewed reason as the good gift that God had given to human beings made in the Lord’s image. He valued arguments and always wanted to hear the best case put forth in support of a given issue. My dad was open to being persuaded on issues but he needed to know that the person arguing had indeed done his or her homework.

5. Respect for Rhetoric: My father appreciated skilled speech and debate. He loved to discourse and he admired politicians who were good communicators such as presidents Franklin Delano Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy. My dad respected the honorable use of persuasive language.

My father ignited within me a love for ideas and learning. I am the careful thinker I am today because I had a father who was truly an intellectual role model. Though he has been dead for nearly 25 years, I think of my father almost daily and appreciate the important things he taught me about life.

I hope this reflection about my father will encourage fathers today to take seriously the critical task of being an intellectual role model for their own children.

I’m grateful for my father and for the other father-like figures that have selflessly encouraged me in my life. Yet these earthly role models and mentors serve to make me aware that there is a heavenly Father whose providential grace has guided my entire life.

For more about the importance of logic and critical thinking, see my book A World of Difference: Putting Christian Truth-Claims to the Worldview Test.

War, What Is It Good For? Sometimes It’s Absolutely Necessary!

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things:  the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing worth a war, is worse. . . . A man who has nothing which he is willing to fight for, nothing which he cares more about than he does about his personal safety, is a miserable creature who has no chance of being free, unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.      —John Stuart Mill¹

Growing up, I felt a need to be like the people I admired. So for a time I wanted to be like Jerry West (the hall of fame shooting guard for the Los Angeles Lakers). Later I wanted to be like Beatles legend John Lennon. However, in the eighth grade while writing a report on the Second World War, I discovered two photographs of my father in The Decline and Fall of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan by Hans Dollinger. I further discovered that my seemingly ordinary father had received both the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart Medals during his tour of duty in Europe. I was embarrassed that I had not recognized what an important role model my dad had always been. From that time I’ve been an avid student of World War II, even taking part of my undergraduate studies in history.

War is a challenging moral issue to come to grips with, especially from a Christian perspective. What follows is a brief article I wrote a couple years ago about just war theory.

Christian thinkers through the centuries have taken different positions on war. Three broad theories concerning the morality of war for the Christian are: activism, pacifism, and selectivism. Activism asserts it is virtually always right to participate in war. Strict pacifism insists it is never morally right to partake in war. Selectivism argues it is sometimes right to take part in war.

Just war theory is a type of selectivism contending that while war is always tragic, and often evil, it is sometimes morally right, just, and practically necessary. Leading Christian advocates of just war theory include Augustine of Hippo (354–430), Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274), and Francisco Suárez (1548–1617). This theory involves two main moral categories of evaluation.

Jus ad bellum (Justness of war): Concerning the moral justness of waging war, a just war must conform to the following moral considerations.

A just war will:

• Be waged by a legitimate authority (government or state, not private individuals)

• Reflect moral deliberation (last resort after sincere diplomacy)

• Have probability of success (reasonable belief that victory can be achieved)

• Have a just cause (e.g., defense of innocents and freedom against direct aggression)

• Be just in intent (establish peace, freedom, justice; not unlimited destruction of the enemy)

Jus in bello (Justice in war): Concerning the conduct of war, strategy and tactics must be just.

A just war will be conducted:

• With proper proportionality (sufficient, but not excessive force will be used; good should outweigh evil)

• With proper discrimination (noncombatants—civilians or innocents—should not be targeted)

Just war theory has been criticized for various reasons through the years (e.g., by failing to appreciate the benefits of a preemptive strike, being unrealistic in its moral expectations, being practically unworkable). Yet it nevertheless remains the most commonly accepted position among Christian thinkers when it comes to evaluating the moral considerations of waging war.

People throughout the world benefitted from the heroic Allies defeating the Axis powers in the world’s bloodiest war (with more than 60 million people killed). War is tragic, and at times evil, but it is sometimes absolutely necessary and the morally right thing to do.

For further study on the ethics of war, see John Jefferson Davis, Evangelical Ethics, 3rd ed. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2004) and J. P. Moreland and Norman L. Geisler, The Life and Death Debate (Westport, CT: Praeger, 1990).

References:

1. John Stuart Mill, “The Contest in America,” Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, April 1862, 683–84, http://digital.library.cornell.edu/cgi/t/text/pageviewer-idx?c=harp&cc=harp&idno=harp0024-5&node=harp0024-5%3A1&frm=frameset&view=image&seq=687.

Lessons from C. S. Lewis

Part 2

Distinguished “Oxbridge” literary scholar, prolific writer, and lay Anglican theologian, C. S. Lewis continues to influence Christian thinking in the twenty-first century. In this second and final part of this article series¹, I share two more lessons that I think believers can take from Lewis’ works and philosophy (see part 1 here).

3. Christian apologists of the twenty-first century would do well to emulate Lewis’ example in providing a comprehensive apologetic. By “comprehensive” I mean an apologetic that includes positive evidence for the faith (as in Mere Christianity), willingness to tackle the difficult questions of our day (for example, The Problem of Pain), and a penetrating critique of non-Christian systems of thought (such as Lewis’ critique of naturalism in Miracles).

In his own colorful way, Lewis expressed the importance of Christian apologetics:

To be ignorant and simple now—not to be able to meet the enemies [of Christ] on their own ground—would be to throw down our weapons, and to betray our uneducated brethren who have, under God, no defence but us against the intellectual attacks of the heathen.²

4. Mere Christianity is one of Lewis’ most popular books. In it he proclaims, explains, and defends the central truths of Christianity. What impresses me most about this book is its lucid style and its single-minded focus on the essentials of the faith. Knowing the core elements of historic Christianity and being able to articulate them with clarity to believers and nonbelievers alike will help all Christians fulfill their God-given role in drawing others to follow Jesus Christ.

Learning from Lewis doesn’t mean we must embrace everything he believed. Some conservative evangelicals have criticized him for holding a view of Scripture that falls short of full inerrancy.³ Others are disturbed by his Anglican/catholic belief in purgatory and in prayers for the dead.⁴ Lewis also apparently held the controversial position of theistic evolution which raises serious red flags for many conservative Christians.

Regardless of the differences, C. S. Lewis deserves honor for his clear and courageous witness for the Lord Jesus Christ during his days as an Oxford don and later as a Cambridge professor. Such outspoken faith was no more politically correct or socially acceptable a half century ago than it is today.

References:

1. This article was published originally as one piece in RTB’s publication Facts & Faith 12, no. 2 (1998), 6–7, to commemorate the centennial of C. S. Lewis’ birthday.

2. C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory (New York: HarperCollins, 2001), 58.

3. Walter A. Elwell, ed., Evangelical Dictionary of Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1984), s.v. “Lewis, Clive Staples,” 630–31.

4. J. I. Packer, “What Lewis Was and Wasn’t,” Christianity Today (January 15, 1988): 11.

Lessons from C. S. Lewis

Part 1

The Christian church has been graced with brilliant and influential thinkers since its inception. A “who’s who” of such individuals includes the Apostle Paul, St. Athanasius, St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, Martin Luther, John Calvin, Johannes Kepler, Blaise Pascal, Johann Sebastian Bach, John Wesley, Jonathan Edwards, among many others. Yet another to add to that list is English scholar and writer C. S. Lewis. This distinguished “Oxbridge” literary scholar, prolific author, and lay Anglican theologian, was, in all his pursuits, an apologist for Christianity.

Though most of Lewis’ works are now over 50 years old, he remains an important intellectual figure. The ongoing popularity of his writings and the various stage and screen adaptations of his novels testify to the extent of his impact on Christian thinking. In examining Lewis’ life and legacy, I see valuable guidelines for American   evangelicals of the new millennium. In this two-part article series,¹ I explore four lessons Christian apologists of the twenty-first century can learn from Lewis.

1. Lewis, like Augustine and Pascal before him, explodes the widely held myth that a Christian’s commitment to intellectual pursuits is somehow at odds with commitment to spiritual growth. Evangelicals have been plagued with an unnecessary tension between head and heart, between reason and faith, between loving God with all their minds and loving God with all their souls. Lewis’ writings raise no such false dichotomy. His works include both exploration of the deep theological and philosophical implications of Christian truth (Mere Christianity, The Abolition of Man, God in the Dock) and the day-to-day struggle of living out those truths in devotion to God (The Screwtape Letters, Letters To Malcolm, The Four Loves). While this Oxford don and Cambridge professor possessed a keen ability to identify the crucial ideas on which the Christian worldview is based, his writings never leave the reader with the impression that Christianity is merely a collection of ideas devoid of a passionate commitment to Almighty God.

On the contrary, for those of us cerebral types more inclined to read a book about prayer than to pray, Lewis’ writings serve as a corrective exhortation. He calls us to integrate our head and heart by loving God with all of our being. For some people, studying requires more discipline than does taking action. For others, taking action takes more discipline than studying. Lewis lets neither off the hook.

2. American philosopher William James defined two broad types of thinkers: the “tender-minded” and the “tough-minded.”² The tender-minded thinker focuses on the inner life of the mind, with reason and intuition as sources of knowledge, and emphasizes the coherence and unification of thought. The tough-minded thinker, on the other hand, focuses on the five senses, orients himself or herself toward scientific inquiry, and emphasizes correspondence to objectively established facts.³

Whether we accept James’ specific categories as valid or not, we can observe easily a difference in the way people go about apprehending truth and reality. What I appreciate about the writings of C. S. Lewis is his ability to communicate meaningfully and persuasively to both types of thinkers. In The Chronicles of Narnia and The Great Divorce for example, he connects with people who emphasize the more imaginative areas of life while in nonfiction works such as Mere Christianity, he connects to people who take a more analytical or skeptical approach to reality. Lewis’ apologetics, writings, and lectures comfort the heart and challenge the mind simultaneously.

Part 2 of this article series will close with two more lessons for twenty-first century apologists from C. S. Lewis.

References:

1. This article was published originally as one piece in RTB’s publication Facts & Faith 12, no. 2 (1998), 6–7, to commemorate the centennial of C. S. Lewis’ birthday.

2. William James, “The Present Dilemma in Philosophy,” in Pragmatism (New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1907).

3. For further discussion of James’ categories, see Ed L. Miller, Questions That Matter, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1996), 19–21. Miller’s book is an excellent introductory text to philosophy.