Bearings Journal | Issue 3 | Reclamation | Spring 2022 by Bearings Journal

ISSUE NO. 3

SPRING 2022

RECLAMATION

AT THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

n what has now been two whole years of life marred by a pandemic, perhaps you, like me, have wrestled with the all-too-present darkness and hard-to-find hope. I have felt more deeply the intrinsically human longing for peace and restoration. As our world edges into an increasingly unfamiliar reality, I sense a collective desire to reclaim some semblance of the world as we knew it before. To encapsulate just a small part of this yearning for a new restoration, we have decided to title this third issue of Bearings Reclamation. The design of the journal reflects our belief as Christians that the Light will reclaim our world from even the darkest darkness. In these pages, colorful art and shadowy photos accompany both poetry that voices struggle and despair and prose that promises encouragement and rest. Our writers have explored reclamation as a call to connect with the early church, to restore a religion-driven national identity, to adopt a hope-oriented political mindset, and to recover forgotten curiosity. My hope is that this journal will point you toward the brightness that will reclaim every darkness. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it,” the Gospel of John says of Christ. He is the One who will ultimately reclaim darkness because He Himself is light. Because God en-

tered our emptiness through His Son, darkness has become only finite in the hands of infinite light. The light which John describes allows us to hope in a final reclamation of the good, true, and beautiful – a reclamation of all light which darkness has suppressed over the course of all time. I would like to offer my overwhelming gratitude to the designers, artists, photographers, writers, and editors who have brought this vision of Reclamation to light. I am especially grateful to Garrett Hicks for his encouragement and guidance during this semester of leadership transition. Lastly, I thank you, reader, for taking the time to explore Reclamation along with us. As you engage with the thoughts and beliefs presented in this journal, I hope you are encouraged to choose light in the midst of darkness. May the pieces within guide you toward a longing for the final reclamation when Jesus will return to envelop darkness in everlasting light. In Christ,

Annika Reynolds Editor-in-Chief

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EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | ANNIKA REYNOLDS PRESIDENT | MEREDITH HICKS PUBLICITY HEAD | ELLERY HUFFMAN

DESIGN TEAM ELI BENN CHRISTOPHER CLEMENS WILL CLEMENS MADISON GOULD ELLERY HUFFMAN

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EDITORS MARY BLEECH BRETT CAREY ANNA HEETDERKS SOPHIA KERNS MIA OPPLER SARAH ROSS JIMMY WINNER

Bearings is a student-run journal of Christian thought at the University of Virginia that seeks to provide an interdenominational and interdisciplinary forum for spiritual conversation on Grounds. issue three | 3

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Sun rising forever rising, growing. Light in the way, guiding. Persistent Brightness. Utter Darkness. Fall but cannot see it. Stumble but do not acknowledge it. Hiding. Fear of what is clear. The clear light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day. Full day will come. It is promised. Hide from the promise. Do not know over what I stumble. Easier. Simpler.

BY MEREDITH HICKS

Light is hard. Imperfect. Can’t accept it. Hiding. Utter Darkness. Easier, but ignorant and alone.

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Reconciling Christianity and Culture with Justin Martyr

BY JONATHAN CUMMINS

n the gospel of John, Jesus tells his disciples, “You are not of the world... therefore the world hates you”.1 Christians have encountered this “hate” in various ways throughout the centuries. It has ranged from explicit persecution to a general disdain and mockery of Christian beliefs and values. As such, followers of Christ have frequently had to find ways to address this tension with the world. The method in which one addresses this tension will depend heavily on one’s view on an essential question: What is the relationship between the surrounding culture and Christian faith? One perspective can be typified by the early church father Tertullian (the “negative view”). In his quest to stamp out early church heresies, he writes, “For [philosophy] it is which is the material of the world’s wisdom, the rash interpreter of the nature and dispensation of God. Indeed, heresies are themselves instigated by philosophy.”2 In his day, prevailing cultural ideas and wisdom was synonymous with philosophy. Then, in his view, it is pagan culture and wisdom (philosophy) that is the source of the heresies plaguing the church and a breeding ground for lies and deceit. As such, he famously asks, “What indeed has Athens to do with Jerusalem?”3 The apostle Paul seems to agree with him in his letter to the Colossians: “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ.”4 Paul establishes the familiar dichotomy between Christ and the world, apparently setting the culture and the church in opposition. A different approach, modeled by (another) early church father, Justin Martyr, emphasizes that “since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen”5 by all of humanity. As a result of such revelation, truth can be found in all cultures. In response, Christians are to identify and celebrate virtue and truth where it may be found in the culture while rejecting false teachings and beliefs. In doing so, Christians assert their authority in assessing truth. Justin stands alone among

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the church fathers in his originality of thought on this topic. A brief history of Justin’s life will help contextualize the original and foundational thoughts found in his writings. His thoughts and ideas will then be explored.

The ideas in the Second Apology are closely connected with Platonism. The variant of Platonism Justin was most acquainted with (as revealed by his writings) was Middle Platonism. One of the most influential Middle Platonists, and someone from whom Justin drew from, Justin was born in the 2nd century in the biblical city was Philo of Alexandria, a Jew and thus a monotheist. of Shechem. He received a Greek education and then Philo conceived of God as one who “transcends all first moved to a major metropolis, most likely Ephesus, to principles... is incorporeal and cannot even be said to study philosophy. While in Ephesus, he became a dis- occupy a space of place; He is eternal, changeless, selfciple of Stoicism, Aristotelianism, Pythagoreanism, and sufficient and free from all constraints of necessity.”9 Platonism. It was the last of these philosophies that cap- Borrowing ideas from Stoicism in addition to his Jewtivated Justin and seemed to satisfy his quest for both ish tradition, Philo also believed that God created the intellectual and spiritual truth. After all, “is not [the] universe through the agency of His Logos (the Greek duty of philosophy to investigate the Deity?”6 word for “Word” in English), which is the personal manifestation of the rational mind of God for the purIn A Dialogue with Trypho, Justin recalls his conversion pose of physical creation.10 Then, this doctrine allows from Platonism to Christianity. In short, an elderly man for the ineffable, immaterial, unreachable, immutable challenges the Platonic belief (viz. Platonic) God to be inthat God is reached through volved in the creation process. For Justin, Jesus Christ is the the intense inner reasoning of The Logos, through whom the mind. He asks, “can man’s God has created the universe, Logos who created the universe mind ever see God if it be not is thus the rational principle of and serves as the bridge for beautified by the Holy Spirthe universe. corporeal, flawed, insignificant 7 it?” , revealing the epistemoWith this background in mind, logical problem of grasping an humans to the perfect, Justin claims that Jesus is the infinite God with a finite mind transcendent, all-powerful Logos. His justification for this sans supernatural aid. With the Father. idea comes directly from John help of the elderly man, Justin 1: “In the beginning was the concludes that we can only know what God himself reveals to us; and what God Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was has revealed to us is the Scriptures and his Son, Jesus God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him Christ. Recalling this realization, Justin reflects that all things were made; without him nothing was made “straightway a flame was kindled in my soul; and a love that has been made... This was the true Light that, comof the prophets and of those men who are friends of ing into the world, enlightens every person... The LoChrist, possessed me; and while revolving his words in gos became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” my mind, I found this [Christian] philosophy alone to For Justin, Jesus Christ is the Logos who created the be safe and profitable. Thus, and for this reason, I am universe and serves as the bridge for corporeal, flawed, a philosopher.”8 In addition to A Dialogue with Trypho, insignificant humans to the perfect, transcendent, allJustin produced two extant texts. The two works, First powerful Father. Apology and Second Apology, have to do with refuting the prevailing anti-Christian beliefs. They contain Justin further develops this doctrine of the Logos by ideas central to Justin’s understanding of the relation- borrowing a term from Stoicism: the seminal Logos. ship between Christianity and the culture to which we Justin defines the seminal Logos as the universal reawill now turn. son and morality that all individuals participate in to

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varying degrees. Since Christ is the rational principle of the universe, this seminal Logos is Christ, and all human beings are partakers of him. However, there is a sense in which one can reject this seminal Logos, thereby separating all humans into “two opposing groups, those who live with Logos and those who live without Logos.”11 Since all humans participate (to varying degrees) in the seminal logos, Justin could claim that even the pagan philosophers were “able to see realities darkly through the sowing of the implanted word [i.e., the seminal Logos] that was in them.”12 In fact, they did the best with what they had: “each man spoke well in proportion to the share he had of the [seminal Logos], seeing what was related to it.”13 Since people who live according to the Logos are called Christians, Justin has no issue stating that “those who lived reasonably [before Christ] are Christians, even though they have been thought atheists; as, among the Greeks, Socrates and Heraclitus, and men like them; and among the barbarians, Abraham, and Ananias, and Azarias, and Misael, and Elias, and many others whose actions and names we now decline to recount, because we know it would be tedious.”14 To be clear, he is not saying the ancient pagans had the knowledge of God that can come only through Christ, nor that they ever really knew God.15

However, he is saying that because they lived according to the truth that was revealed to them (and in them), and made this truth central to their lives, they lived in accordance with the Logos, Jesus Christ, the author of all truth. As Anglican Priest and Biblical Scholar Gerald R. McDermott puts it, the pagan “does not lack faith and righteousness, but he does not have the faith and righteousness of the Christian stemming from union with God in Christ. He can be called a Christian because he has a sort of intermediate relationship to God, but needs the gospel to have the fullness of relationship.”16 Furthermore, because the pagans only had part of the

Since Christ is the rational principle of the universe, this seminal Logos is Christ, and all human beings are partakers of him. seminal logos, any truths they grasped were enveloped by a cloud of lies. They could see truthful details, sure, but could not grasp the latent, supernatural realities of our world. On the other hand, Christians (who have accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ), Justin claims, have full possession of the Logos, which is the truth and the measure of any truth. Since Christians alone have access to the whole Logos through knowledge of Christ, Justin can claim that “whatever things were right[ly] said among all men, are the property of us Christians.”17 As owners of the truth, Christians are in the position to reclaim truth in their surrounding cultures, and more broadly, the world. These original ideas fundamentally change how Christians approach the inevitable conflict between themselves and the world and can benefit them in many ways. For example, a disposition towards truth, wherever it may be found, can serve to authenticate the

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Christian faith in a pluralistic society. Consider a contrarian, adversarial approach to the culture in the modern, scientific world. Ignoring scientific discoveries would only serve to alienate an increasingly scientificminded society. However, working alongside science in a common quest for truth, and reevaluating our assumptions as Christians when needed, has served to bolster the faith in the eyes of believers and unbelievers alike. Another way this perspective can aid Christians is through the establishment of common ground. By engaging with the virtuous, truthful, and good aspects of the surrounding culture (common ground), Christians can build ideological and relational bridges with nonbelievers. Dialoguing over the same stories, ideas, and values – albeit with different perspectives – has served for practically all of human history as a powerful method of communicating truth. By building on shared ground, Christians can convey truth more clearly to those outside the faith. It is clear Justin’s original thoughts provide the basis for healthy Christian engagement with the culture. In the midst of such work, however, Justin emphasizes the need to maintain a necessary distance between Christianity and the world. Justin does not shy away from the counter-cultural claims of Christianity (the doctrine of the incarnation, the resurrection of Christ), but instead exalts them as defining, historical features of the Christian faith. After many years defending the faith and reconciling it with the surrounding pagan culture, Justin’s zeal for truth was put to the test as he was condemned to death for his belief in the incarnate Logos. The Roman administrator asked Justin, “Do you suppose, then, that you will ascend into heaven to receive some recompense [for martyrdom]?”18 With his characteristic fervor and tenacity, Justin responded, “I do not suppose it, but I know and am fully persuaded of it.”19 •

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John 15:19 (English Standard Version). Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics, trans. P. Holmes, ANF 3 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 7.1.246. Ibid. 4 Colossians 2:8. 5 Romans 1:20. 6 Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, ANF 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 1.6.194. 7 Ibid., 4.1.196. 8 Ibid., 8.1.198. 9 Edward Moore, “Middle Platonism”, The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 10 Ibid. 11 Jose Kuruvachira, “Justin Martyr’s theory of ‘Seminal Logos’”. 12 Justin Martyr, II Apology, ANF 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 13.1.193. 13 Ibid. 14 Justin Martyr, I Apology, ANF 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 46.1.178. 15 Gerald McDermott, God’s Rivals: Why Has God Allowed Different Religions? Insights from the Bible and the Early Church (IVP Academic: 2007). 16 Ibid. 17 Justin Martyr, II Apology, ANF 1, 13.1.193. 18 The Martyrdom of St. Justin, ANF 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 4.1.306. 19 Ibid. 1 2 3

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BY ABI DAVIS You wrestled with God all night at the place where the river bends until the sun rose, severe but beautiful, a small red circle above you. I wrestle with God as the sun sets, looking at the beauty of creation, trying to imagine the severity of evil, unable to reconcile the irreconcilable. Did you talk? You and the angel, swapping theologies in between chokeholds, your breath heavy, your sentences short, or were you silent beneath the starlight? I stay silent because words are meaningless when the God we worship hears our very thoughts, I ponder questions I do not understand and create paradoxes within myself. Did you feel cheated? When he touched your hip and it disconnected, when you stopped the cycle of pinning and being pinned, did you feel relieved?

I feel so disconnected, in my mind, my thoughts, my relationships. I create cycles that spin into black holes, where I lie, waiting for light, for relief. Did your voice break? When you spoke, demanding a blessing, a gift. When you asked the name of the unnameable, did you know what you were asking? My voice cracks easily as I pray refrains that I already know, still surprised by the ways the words twist in on themselves to create beauty. Did you notice your limp? Or were you too busy, thinking about God and wrestling, the intersection between peace and grappling, between princes and dust? I wrestle with my inconsistencies, the fallacies within logic and belief, grappling with God and slowly wrestling with the hurt inherent in a fallen world.

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BY JASON YU

or as long as I can remember, I have been a fast walker. I think I got it from my dad, who always hustled us through the security checkpoints at the airport. My purple suitcase would knock against my heels as we rushed past sweet-smelling shops. Don’t slow down, or you could miss your flight. You don’t need to be a productivity guru to know that walking fast increases efficiency. In my first year at UVA, I knew the last minute I could roll out of bed to get to class on time. If I got up at 8:37 AM, I could dress, brush my teeth, pack for class, speed-walk to O’Hill, eat breakfast, and step into the classroom at exactly 9 AM. I would breeze past the large clusters of students, deftly evading the crowded sidewalks by stepping onto the side of the road. I walked fast wherever I went, whether grabbing dinner at the dining hall or heading to a club event. Walking was a dull but necessary task, and I adapted by minimizing the amount of time I spent walking. After all, I had things to do and places to be. “If only I lived in Lile-Maupin,” I thought to myself. “I could save a couple minutes every time I leave or enter my dorm. Over the course of the week, I would save about an hour, and across the entire semester, that would work out to over 12 hours of extra time. Imagine how much more I could accomplish!” That may sound like a ridiculous example, but don’t we all strive to maximize output? From college campuses to industrialized cultures at large, we are obsessed with being busy and productive. Students lament the six hours of sleep they got last night or their out-of-whack circadian rhythm. This sentiment is a favorite among

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students since it engenders sympathy from listeners while subtly bragging about how important their life is. Such remarks are often met with nods of agreement. “I feel you. I got five hours of sleep because I had to finish a group project by myself.” A lack of sleep is a badge of honor, and the winner is the person who loses the most.

We cram our “breaks” with extracurricular activities, online courses, and side-hustles, lest we fail to live up to our full potential. We idolize workaholics like Elon Musk, who, when asked about the number of hours one needs to work each week to “change the world,” replied that it ranges from 80 to 100.1 Recent business research from Harvard suggests that being time-poor and possessing a lack of leisure time is perceived as a status symbol because it suggests that the person is in high demand.2 Our obsession with productivity is unhealthy. Chronic sleep debt raises the risk of heart disease, stroke, and diabetes. In the short term, lack of sleep has negative impacts on memory creation and consolidation.3 But despite the detrimental health effects and diminishing marginal returns of excessive work, we persist in our schedule-cramming and late nights, revealing a trend of sacrificing rest for productivity and the patina of perfection. Indeed, even walking fast is symptomatic of an underlying problem of discontentment and insecurity. One study found that fast walkers tend to be less happy than slow walkers, suggesting that fast walkers are perfectionistic, masking their flaws and numbing their discontentment by a deluge of mindless work and productivity.4 Even after my most productive semester, I was restless. One of the scariest computer science courses was around the corner, I pressured myself to land an internship, I felt like an impostor going through the motions, and I desperately wanted to fit in. Everybody else at college seemed to have it together, but I was struggling to keep up and losing sleep. I contend that the pursuit of contentment by maintaining a perfect facade is like a treadmill. We convince ourselves that we are on the path to satisfaction, but in reality, we are going nowhere

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and gasping for breath. In my constant striving to keep up with others, I masked my flaws and failures. I knew intellectually that nobody was perfect. I didn’t expect others to be perfect, so why was I pretending that I had everything together? The Bible offers a fresh perspective. Instead of straining ahead to achieve significance and maximize productivity, the Bible tells us that “The LORD will fight for you. You need only to be still.”5 Instead of chasing significance from the world, God calls us to find rest and worth in being called his child. Instead of endlessly pursuing approval from others, Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are burdened and weary, and I will give you rest.”5 Despite my familiarity with these truths, I find it difficult to translate these beliefs into everyday life. I gravitate to the idea that God is fighting for me or that he is in control, but I gloss over the part about being still and ceasing my striving. I carry a heavy burden of busyness, hurry, noise, pressure, comparison, jealousy, and discontentment, hear Jesus’ message, shed a couple items from my baggage and continue trudging along. “It’s okay, God. I can handle this.” Fully letting go of this performance-based mindset is simultaneously terrifying and beautiful. It’s terrifying because it contradicts everything the world tells us about merit. Our culture heavily emphasizes the value of hard work and personal achievement. Letting go is terrifying because it forces us to acknowledge our shortcomings.

Casting all our anxiety on Jesus means admitting that we have anxieties in the first place. It means letting our guard down and allowing him to carry our burdens. This is also why letting go is beautiful. When we admit our flaws and confess our weaknesses, we are truly ourselves. No more striving. No more pretending. Jesus sees us for who we are, and he still loves us and offers us rest. I am reminded of Kintsugi, the art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws, you can create a stronger, more beautiful piece of art.6 In the same way that Kintsugi pottery Meredith Hicks makes no secret of its imperfections, we are called to share our weaknesses vulnerably. Perhaps the best example of our need for vulnerability comes from Luke 18:9-14: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”5

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In the parable, the Pharisee pridefully convinces himself that he has it all together. Instead of confessing his need for Jesus’ rest, he boasts about his pious deeds. However, it is the humble tax collector who begs for mercy and goes home justified before God. In the same way, when we admit our imperfections and confess our need for God’s love, he makes us whole. Jesus sees past our futile attempts to cover up our flaws. He runs his fingers across the cracks. One by one, he gathers the shattered fragments of our broken lives into his hands. And when Jesus pieces us back together again like a piece of Kintsugi pottery, his power shines through our imperfections. When we allow Jesus to make us whole,

Instead of chasing significance from the world, God calls us to find rest and worth in being called his child. Instead of endlessly pursuing approval from others, Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are burdened and weary, and I will give you rest.”5 we no longer have to strive for other people’s acceptance. We don’t have anything to prove, and this truth brings profound peace. We are not perfect, and that’s okay because he was perfect for us. It may seem that this is another one of those “just be yourself” messages. But Jesus takes it a step further than that. Jesus doesn’t leave us in our weaknesses, but he empowers us through the Holy Spirit and gives us a new purpose. Instead of using our abilities to make a name for ourselves, we choose to glorify God. I admit that I sometimes become anxious because I believe I need to perform for God’s approval. “What if I am not able to meet God’s demands? What if I fail to stew-

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ard the blessings that have been entrusted to me?” Of course, when I rely on my own strength to please God, my efforts are fruitless. The more I believe that I need to live up to some standard to win God’s acceptance, the further I stray from the Gospel, which proclaims that nothing can separate us from God’s love. God doesn’t love us more if we perform good deeds, and he doesn’t love us less if we sin. I pray that I would learn to rely not on myself, but on God for all things, and that through my weakness, God’s power would be made perfect.5 For me, walking slowly feels unnatural. But now I choose to slow my walking speed as a confession of my weakness and a symbol of my dependence on God for all things. In my innermost being, I crave rest. Because of Jesus, I now know that true rest does not come from the chilly, numbing effect of endless productivity or maintaining a perfect facade. Only when we acknowledge our brokenness before God and allow him to transform our lives do we experience true rest. • 1 Rudgard, Olivia, “Elon Musk: Workers should put in 100 hours a week to change the world,” The Telegraph, November 27, 2018, https://www.telegraph.co.uk/technology/2018/11/27/elonmusk-workers-should-put-80-hours-week-change-world/. 2 Bellezza, Silvia, et. al. “Conspicuous Consumption of Time: When Busyness and Lack of Leisure Time Become a Status Symbol,” Journal of Consumer Research. 44, no. 1 (2016): 118-138. 3 Cox, Lindsay, “Why Overworking Is Bad For Your Health,” HubSpot (blog), October 7, 2020, https://blog.hubspot.com/marketing/overwork-bad-health. 4 Tan, Jo-est, “People who walk fast tend to be less happy, study says,” Dailypedia, July 16, 2019, https://www.dailypedia.net/2019/07/people-who-walk-fast-tend-to-be-less-happy-study-says/. 5 Mantovani, Andrea, “Kintsugi and the art of repair: life is what makes us,” Medium (blog), September 19, 2019, https://medium.com/@andreamantovani/kintsugi-and-the-art-of-repairlife-is-what-makes-us-b4af13a39921.

BY ABI DAVIS

I’m trying to see in abstractions widththe circumference of Pangaea and its shadows, all the rivers on earth lined up against each otherthe Nile and the Yangtze and the Mississippi. lengthhow hair that has never been cut tumbles down a back, the blurriness of trains as they pass in long gray lines, how taffy stretches when it begins. heightthe way air grows thin at mountaintops, how far rain has to fall before it hits the Earth, the sky and sequoia trees. depththe Grand Canyon and the Mariana Trench, time and space and light reflected underwater, the eyes of someone you know very well. But none of it compares to the reality of your love, it’s wider and longer and taller and deeper than anything ever to exist, or anything I could ever dream about.

Victoria Van Dixhoorn

@victoriav.art

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BY ANONYMOUS This story is largely accurate. After Henry VIII broke from Rome and established a national church, Englishmen began to see themselves as a people favored by God. They saw his hand in the downfall of the Spanish Armada in 1588, and hailed Elizabeth as a new Deborah. Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector in the 1650s, called Exodus “the only parallel of God’s dealing with us In his book The Virtue of Nationalism, Israeli political that I know in the world....”2 The Dutch, meanwhile, saw theorist Yoram Hazony defends an order of indepen- the Spanish oppressor as Egypt reborn, and compared dent nations, each pursuing a distinct tradition. This their own leader, William the Silent, to Moses. Each nation viewed itself nationalism finds its antithesis in impeas a new Israel. rialism, “which seeks to bring peace and prosperity to the world by unitAmong the Enging mankind, as much as possible, 1 lish arose a conunder a single political regime.” Hazony proffers biblical Israel ception of their nation as the adas the archetypal nation-state, versary of Rome in a world ruled by uniand its church. versalizing empires like Foxe’s Book of Egypt, Babylon, and eventually Rome. Then, in Ro- Martyrs and the writings of John Milton contributed to man Catholic Christendom, the an epic narrative of English defiance toward the popChurch took up the sword of ish Anti-Christ, the Whore of Babylon who drinks the Caesar, pursuing the same blood of the saints.3 From the same milieu arose new, imperial vision. But the biblically inspired, theories of republicanism. Hebraist Reformation repudiated thinkers such as Milton, James Harrington, and Algerthis uniform order non Sidney decried absolute monarchy for its usurpa with a nationalist re- tion of the sovereignty of God. The regime established naissance inspired at Sinai had been a republic, they argued, with God as by Mosaic Israel. its king. Thus, the republic is the truest theocracy. The Nationalism is currently a dirty word; the phrase ‘Christian nationalism’ is ickier still. Many Christians view national loyalties as idolatrous distractions from a commitment to the global Church and to the welfare of humanity. But if Christians would examine their heritage, a different disposition toward nationalism awaits.

The nation, like all good things, can become an idol. But must we reject the intertwining of Christianity with national identity?

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famous frontispiece of Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan depicts a literal body politic4 surmounted by the king as absolute head and Sovereign. For John Eliot of New England, however, Christ is the true head: “Christ is the only right Heir of the Crown of England...”5 England is an outpost of Christ’s Kingdom of Light, resisting the Prince of Darkness and his empire. But how can this theocratic nationalism apply to America, which features a wall of separation between Church and State (a phrase coined by this university’s founder)? Here, the people are sovereign, not God. Moreover, say some, ours is an abstract creed that can (and should) be accepted by everyone, everywhere.

munity; healthy nationhood requires a shared moral identity. By spurning religion as the source of this identity, we risk drifting toward more poisonous foundations (racial ones, for instance). We must acknowledge God as the source of political sovereignty. There is no social contract between individuals, but a covenant of a corporate people with its God. This does not mean that every citizen (or ruler)10 must be an orthodox believer. It does mean reaffirming our country’s historical Christian identity, and refusing to check our convictions at the door of the public square. A revival of Christianity in America may seem unlikely. But the examples of Whitefield and Wilberforce testify to a faithful remnant’s power to transform a nation’s mores and laws. We must, however, beware the temptation of empire. God rules each nation; one nation should not rule the world. When Christ was delivered to him, Pilate asked the priests, “Shall I crucify your King?” They replied, “We have no king but Caesar.”11 They relinquished their long-treasured nationalism. Rejecting God from being king over them (1 Samuel 8), they submitted instead to an earthly emperor. May God keep us from doing likewise.

God rules each nation; one nation should not rule the world.

Let us hearken back to Exodus, where the 17th-century Hebraists found their model. The breastplate of Aaron, described in Exodus 28:15-30, features twelve stones for twelve tribes. Covering the high priest’s torso, it symbolized the body politic. Upon Aaron’s head rested a crown inscribed with these words: “Holy to the Lord.”6 It was as the Hebraists said: God was the Sovereign Head of the commonwealth. Rabbi Meir Soloveichik connects this passage to the American context. Examining the Gettysburg Address, he highlights the phrase “this nation, under God.” Soloveichik sees here an extension of Exodus 28’s political analogy. The American Union, composed of brethren states, is one body. God is its head. The ‘under’ is literal.7 Other Americans have embraced a Hebraic conception of America. The Massachusetts Puritans viewed their covenant community as a “New English Israel.”8 Even the deistic Jefferson proposed an image from Exodus for America’s Great Seal.9 Only the Church can claim Israel’s special relationship with God. The nation, like all good things, can become an idol. But must we reject the intertwining of Christianity with national identity? Individualism and capitalism provide insufficient bases for a political com-

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Yoram Hazony. The Virtue of Nationalism (New York: Hatchette Book Group, 2018), 3. Quoted in Michael Walzer, Exodus and Revolution (New York: Basic Books, 1985) pp. 3-4. Ernest Lee Tuveson, Redeemer Nation: The Idea of America’s Millennial Role (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 140-141. 4 This is an ancient metaphor for the political community, encompassing all of its individuals and institutions. 5 Eliot, John, and Paul Royster, “The Christian Commonwealth: Or, The Civil Policy of the Rising Kingdom of Jesus Christ.” (Faculty Publications, UNL Libraries, 2005) vi. 6 Exodus 28:36, ESV. 7 Soloveichik articulates these ideas in Episode 26 of his podcast, Bible 365. 8 Mather, Cotton. “Magnalia Christi Americana, of The Ecclesiastical History of New England, From Its First Planting In the Year 1620, Unto the Year of Our Lord, 693, First American edition, From the London Edition of 1702, 2 vols.” Hartford: Roberts and Burr 1 (1820), 43. 9 https://www.greatseal.com/committees/firstcomm/reverse.html. 10 Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Disraeli, and David Ben-Gurion provide examples of non-devout leaders who expressed profound respect for their national religious traditions. 11 John 19:15, ESV. 1 2 3

Filling the gap in between Breaking the bridge, filling it with water. Waves, Crashing. Futile effort after Futile effort Lack of trust. Control, fill the gap that I put there. Replacing One with a million with a billion that do not compare that cannot bridge the gap that I put there.

BY MEREDITH HICKS

I made space space to suffer space to lack space to cry space to be without Why want that space? Why fill that space? Waves, Crashing Filling the gap, but I fall through.

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“D

on’t forget to look up.” My program director gave me this wise advice as I began my study abroad experience in Rome. He reminded me to search for the bits of beauty above and in front of me: the architectural details of a Renaissance façade, the way that the late-afternoon light hits the river and the cobblestone streets, and the snippets of animated conversations heard while riding a crowded bus. His exhortation certainly did help me attend to the visible beauty around me, but it has also become so much more. Indeed, the call to “look up” serves as a literal and spiritual reminder of the hope and beauty that awaits those who turn their eyes upward. In a fast-paced and ever-distracted world, we’re bombarded by the temptation to look in a myriad of different directions. The twentieth-century Modernist poet T.S. Eliot so aptly wrote that the world of his time was “distracted from distraction by distraction.”1 Half a century later, we live in a world that embodies Eliot’s critique even more. With phones always at our fingertips and buzzing with every new notification, we are taught to look down instead of up. When our eyes wander, they wander down because we know we’ll always find our phone begging for our attention. A downward, device-directed gaze is our go-to when we assume that the world around us has nothing of note to offer us. But what if down wasn’t our first line of defense?

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BY ANNIKA REYNOLDS If so much of what distracts us causes us to look down, could looking up provide an escape from those unrelenting interruptions? That simple act shunts our short attention span to the ever-inviting sights of nature. A glance at the trees and sky above us or even the people around us returns our gaze to what God called “good”2 in the very beginning. Although the tranquility might only last an instant, it nevertheless allows some stillness to seep into the restlessness. Looking up allows us to momentarily let go of the commotion of the world around us. The reminder to “look up” also encourages us to savor the mundane moments. We’re often tempted to fill the unexciting with media sights and sounds – whether a quiet minute waiting in line or walking to class – but perpetually doing so robs our daily routine of its potential value. Indeed, intentionally taking a break to “look up” amidst moments we could be looking down ensures that we do not miss out on the joy right in front of us.

model that we can imitate. If He calls us to look to nature as our example of behavior, then we should always be yearning to look up. The birds, flowers, trees, and clouds are God’s way of encouraging us to live an upward-looking life.

The great American poet Mary Oliver writes about her experience witnessing an extraordinary event transform an ordinary morning. As she watches redbirds hatch and the chicks “chirping for food,” she exclaims, “And just like that, like a simple neighborhood event, a miracle is taking place.”3 We might not have the luxury of seeing birds hatch every morning, but we each have a moment in our day when we can choose to see wonder. More importantly, through time spent in God’s creation, the act of “looking up” gives us glimpses of God’s presence and peace. It is through encounters with creation that the purpose of “looking up” is fully realized. Jesus exhorts us to “look at the birds of the air” and “consider the lilies of the field” in order to remind us of His promise to provide.4 God designed nature to be a

As we seek to “look up,” let us let go of the distractions around us, delight in the mundane moments, and take our cue from nature. For even more than stepping away from our phones, even more than making time for still moments, is the importance of looking to the One who created all things and all time. Looking up to Him is what ultimately erases every distraction, redeems all emptiness, and reveals the cry of all nature. The exhortation from my wise elder was certainly a good one, but the words of Psalm 121 are where the beauty and hope of “looking up” find their perfect object: “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”5 • T. S. Eliot, Burnt Norton, Four Quartets (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1943), 17. Gen 1:12 ESV. Mary Oliver, This Morning, Felicity (New York: Penguin Press, 2015), 39. 4 Matt. 6:26, 28 ESV. 5 Ps. 121:1-2 ESV. 1 2 3

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BY ANNA HEETDERKS

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orality without realism is naivete or worse, and realism without morality is cynicism or worse,” wrote theologian and scholar Reinhold Niebuhr. Dissatisfied with both ideologies, Niebuhr sought a way forward more reflective of Christian doctrine and proposed a third way, a philosophy termed “Christian realism.” Christian realism seeks to reconcile the view of a fallen world with the hope for its ultimate restoration, thus overlapping with but ultimately rejecting both realism and idealism in their default forms. Realism is a pragmatic worldview, emphasizing the importance of seeing the world as it really is and reacting accordingly. Realism views international relations in terms of power and conflict. It sees states as the main actors and self-interest as the main goal of those states.1 The way to peace is through keeping the power balanced, and conflicts and wars arise when the power balance is upset.2 From a realist perspective, if there are humans, and therefore nations, there will never be true peace. Realism recognizes that the world is broken and has no hope it will ever change- it stays inherently the same. Therefore, realism is not particularly concerned with making the world a better place, seeing it better to deal with it as it is and will always be. But realism in this form should give the Christian pause. The main problem with such an outlook is that it can easily become divorced from morality. Realists view the world as being in a state of anarchy: everyone fighting

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each other for power and resources with no centralized government or concept of justice. Because of this, and their pessimism regarding human nature, realists often see morality and ethics as useless and irrelevant on a world stage. “For realism, the world is not amenable to salvation or perfection, but rather constitutes an environment governed by contingency and the tragic conflict of competing interests,” writes Vassilios Papais in the Journal of International Political Theory.3 This leads to realism’s cardinal sin of cynicism, a kind of amoral fatalism that sees morality as inexpedient and therefore pointless. If human nature is unchangeable and the world is in a constant state of anarchy, says this kind of cynicism, there is no point in trying to improve it through morality. This conclusion is profoundly antiChristian. Christians are tasked with serving as God’s agents of renewal in a broken world, and to write off said world as irredeemable is to abandon a central responsibility of the Christian faith. In contrast to realism stands idealism. Idealism sees the world not as it is, but as it should be. Idealists believe peace is realized not by autonomous, self-interested states pragmatically balancing power, but by cooperation and strong institutions that attempt to forge strong ties between states and create positive-sum (rather than zero-sum) outcomes.4 Idealism is optimistic about human nature. It sees human beings as capable of progress: change for the better.5 It sees failed relationships and institutions as the fundamental causes of conflict and war, and the way to peace through strong relationships and

institutions.6 In international relations, idealism often takes the form of liberalism, which is concerned not only with building institutions and ties between states, but using them to spread liberal democratic values worldwide. Morality, or ethics, plays a central role in idealism. “Ethical progress” carried into relations between nations is how the Earl of Birkenhead described the philosophy in the context of international relations in a 1923 address.7 Birkenhead recognizes that spreading morality is a largely popular idea: “For in this vague sentiment of benevolence many admirable citizens of many countries would concur,” he confirms. “But the Idealist in the sense which concerns us [international relations] is he who believes that these things are in fact attainable; that we ought to take steps and make exertions and take great risks in order to attain them.”8 This is the essence of idealism in international relations.

Christian realism seeks to reconcile the view of a fallen world with the hope for its ultimate restoration, thus overlapping with but ultimately rejecting both realism and idealism in their default forms.

Because idealists see the world as it should be, they maintain a spirit of optimism and a drive for change that Christians should recognize and admire. The problem is that this optimism can blind idealists to the reality of a broken and flawed world. Morality becomes divorced from reality, leading to idealism’s cardinal sin of naivete. Naivete, when combined with the “great risks” taken by idealists to achieve a perfect world, is dangerous. Particularly in the Victoria Van Dixhoorn @victoriav.art United States, this often takes the form of liberal internationalism, which seeks to spread democratic values to the world at large. The problem is that this kind of idealism can result in the overzealous, unrealistic, and potentially harmful pursuit of an unreachable goal. Look no further than Afghanistan, where twenty long years of U.S. - led attempts to build

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a democratic system failed spectacularly, at the tremendous cost of human life. Instances such as these should give the Christian reason to also view idealism with skepticism, recognizing that the attempts of fallen humans to fix a fallen world by themselves will ultimately end in despair and disaster.

The heartbeat of the Christian faith is paradox. The world is inherently good but fundamentally broken. Human beings are glorious creatures made in the image of God but also deeply flawed and in desperate need of redemption.

Recognizing the flaws in these diverging ideologies, Niebuhr sought a way forward more reflective of Christian doctrine. “Striving to reconcile the Christian command of love with the harsh realities of power resulting from universal sinfulness, Niebuhr emphasized the necessity of negotiating the distance between the two extremes of a pendulum swinging from Christian pacifism to the endorsement of interventionist policies,” writes Paipais.9 Niebuhr and his Christian realist contemporaries did not accept realism’s fatalism or the idea that worldly existence was a “necessary evil.”10 The world was broken, yes, but not beyond repair. For Niebuhr, a practical application of Christian realism was his support for a policy of containment against the Soviet Union, while simultaneously opposing the United States’ Cold War incursions, specifically in Vietnam. One of the main disagreements between Niebuhr and his contemporary Karl Barth was“how one strikes the right balance between the demands of faith and the Christian virtue of humility in one’s conduct of human affairs, on the one hand, and the necessity of taking power seriously and preventing worldly evils, such as totalitarian regimes of terror, from enjoying a free rein, on the other.”11 This is a hard line to tread, but for Niebuhr it looked like acknowledging the importance of containing evil and danger while opposing excessive and unwise displays of power. Like so much of Christian faith, the idea of Christian realism rests on paradox. Some may argue that Christianity and realism are in fact incompatible and trying to combine them is akin to attempting to push the same ends of two magnets together. Realism as we have defined it, with its emphasis on power and fatalistic ver-

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sion of the world as an amoral anarchy does appear to conflict with the way of Christ: relinquishment of power, self-sacrifice, and loving one’s neighbor as oneself. But if all that seemed contradictory was incompatible,

Christianity would disintegrate. The heartbeat of the Christian faith is paradox. The world is inherently good but fundamentally broken. Human beings are glorious creatures made in the image of God but also deeply flawed and in desperate need of redemption. God is abundantly merciful yet demands justice. Christians are saved by and to grace, yet Jesus commands us to be perfect.12 If Christianity is so paradoxical, why wouldn’t the outworkings of Christianity be so as well? Christian realism extends and adopts the paradoxes of the faith. It recognizes that the world is broken and that human beings are capable of great evil. It sees the Uighyr genocide in China and rising ethnonationalism in Europe and the brutality of the Taliban in Afghanistan and concludes that those evils and all other kinds of evils will continue to exist as long as the world in its present form

continues to exist and that there is nothing we can do on our own to fix it. These should be familiar truths to the Christian, and possessing this knowledge, it seems cynical fatalism would be a rational, realistic response. But Christianity, acknowledging, even embracing, this realist version of the state of the world, demands a highly irrational, unrealistic response: an active, working hope. Why? Because all the evil in this world is infinitely more visible and offensive to God than it is to us, yet God viewed that world as valuable enough to die for. In light of this, for human beings to see the world as irredeemable suddenly becomes ludicrous, and to use that assessment as grounds to cynically abandon morality utterly twisted. It is true that we are incapable of fixing the world on our own, but this leads us into yet another paradox. God is the only one who can make the world right, but he calls human beings to do that work: the long, hard work of reclaiming reality. • 1 Julian W. Korab-Karpowizc, “Political Realism in International Relations” in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2018). 2 Henry Nau, Perspectives on International Relations (CQ Press, 2019), 47. 3 Paipais, Vassilios. “Reinhold Niebuhr and the Christian Realist Pendulum” in Journal of International Political Theory (2021), 186. 4 Nau, 52. 5 Nau, 53. 6 Nau, 54. 7 The Earl of Birkenhead, “Idealism in International Politics” at Glasgow University, Glasgow, Scotland (1923). 8 See note 7. 9 Paipas, 185. 10 Paipas, 186. 11 Paipas, 190. 12 Matt. 5:48 NIV.

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