The Christian Roommates

I can still remember my first day of college, and how uneasy I was meeting the guy that I’d be sharing a tiny room with all year long. His name was Gary, and as it turned out, we were night and day—that is he was Mr. Nighttime and I was Mr. Goodmorning. By the end of the year Gary and I were the only two guys on our floor who were still living together. We weren’t great friends, but we managed.

John Updike tells a story (The Christian Roommates) about two Christian roommates that were night and day. Orson Ziegler was the pride of his home town in South Dakota. He came to Harvard with all the right credentials—great grades, high IQ, athletic physique, and leadership successes at school and in his church. And he was sure that he was going to be a doctor just like his Dad. Henry Palamountain was also very bright, bright enough to be accepted at Harvard. The similarities between these two young men really end right there.

Henry was inquisitive, mischievous, spiritually eclectic, and socially peculiar. You’ll have to read the story sometime, because the delight of Updike’s writing is in the details and descriptions. If there is a “lesson” in this story, and I’m not sure that Updike really wrote this story to teach a lesson, it is this: the perfectly planned life can isolate a student from genuine engagement and personal growth. Ziegler had already decided what kind of person he was going to be, and nothing that he encountered during his college years really challenged or changed him. He was as judgmental and certain and driven when he left college as he was when he arrived. He had many opportunities to explore and to discuss things with his strange roommate Henry and others, but he preferred to keep his distance from unusual ideas and unusual people.

Much of the learning that you will encounter during the college years won’t come in the classroom. It will take place as you discuss things with your roommate and friends, as you encounter other cultures and customs, as you invest in a service project or a church youth group, and as you show grace to unusual people. Learning isn’t confined to the classroom and it isn’t simply acquired through hard work. Learning is as wide as life, and at times it takes place as we play and serve and wonder.

--Donald Opitz

Christmas Break Suggestions for Students

Over the past few weeks, I have been a regular contributor to an exciting new blog, Living Jubilee. As you may be aware, the Jubilee Conference takes place in Pittsburgh each year, seeking to give college students a vision for living out faith in all areas of life. The Living Jubilee blog has brought together a group of writers to help students think more intentionally about how to live out the Jubilee vision each day.

Living Jubilee author, Alissa Wilkinson, has recently offered college students some advice on how to make the most of Christmas break. Her thoughts are worth sharing with readers of this website as well. Alissa suggests the following seven ideas for students on break:

1. Relax, recreate, rejuvenate

2. Play with your food

3. Expand your mind

4. Be cinematical

5. Clean house

6. Serve

7. Seek your God

Read Alissa’s entire article here.

Responsible Learning

In 1948, Alfred Hitchcock made a film called Rope. Based on a stage play the entire film is set in a small apartment, and the whole film is one continuous shot. But holding the well done technical aspects of the film together is an amazing story of an outrageous idea. In this story, two recent Ivy League graduates, Brandon and Phillip, decide to kill an acquaintance of theirs, David, who they see as an inferior person. They are attempting to test out the theories of their education. Believing that they are superior men, they have advanced “beyond good and evil,” and so they can kill and cannot be held responsible for the consequences, in fact they are doing society a favor.

Brandon and Phillip then invite over a few friends, the victim’s family, and their esteemed philosophy professor, Rupert Cadell for a dinner party. All the while David’s dead body is in a chest in the living room. The climax of the film comes when the professor returns because of the suspicion that something is wrong. He has noticed one of the killers acting strangely throughout the party. On his return he confronts his students. They defend themselves by repeating back the professor’s own Nietzschean philosophy. They say that they killed because they learned that if they really were superior to the victim than it is not morally wrong to kill him. The professor then has a critical moment of clarity and realizes that his theory has consequences- that his classroom extends beyond its four walls into real lives.

In the end, Professor Cadell tells his students that they have taught him a great lesson, that his ideas must be in line with his ethics, that ideas inform our everyday actions and decisions. He abandons his belief in superior and inferior people; he concludes that all human beings must be treated with dignity and equality and that everyone has worth.

We are not all that different from Professor Cadell. It is simpler to just separate out the ideas and theories that we discuss and argue about in the classroom, from our everyday routines of eating, sleeping, and hanging out with friends. And as Brandon and Phillip illustrate connecting ideas and actions can be dangerous, even criminal. The trouble is: How do we navigate the bridges and intersections of the ideas that we learn about and the way we live our lives?

What we need is a better story- a vision of what it means to be human in a world shaped by the knowledge of good and evil. We are not just minds in bodies. As whole creatures created by God we were meant to live lives of integrity, integrating our thoughts about how it should and can be with the way we live. Of course we have fallen, and now we live with the tension and struggle of working toward learning. We must be careful and responsible with our learning; it’s a fragile gift, not a license to kill.

--Greg Veltman

Greg Veltman is currently a PhD student, studying higher education and cultural studies at the University of Pittsburgh and a Film Critic for Comment Magazine.

90% and Failing

Recently I read two brief stories in which 90% was a very bad percentage. The first is a bible story from Luke 17:11-19. In this story Jesus entered a village and ran into 10 lepers. They kept their distance, but cried out to the Miracle-Man, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us.” And Jesus did. He sent them to show themselves to the priests, and on their way, they were cleansed. Only one came back. This one threw himself at Jesus feet and thanked him. Ninety percent didn’t come back. Jesus asked, “Where are the other nine?” No answer is given so we can only guess—catching up with family, tipping a pint at the village pub, who knows. Only one really got it—that a fabulous gift was given and gratitude is the right response.

My friend suggested this book to me, The First Year Out by Tim Clydesdale. This book is about higher education, and particularly about students. Clydesdale summarizes hundreds of hours of discussions with high school seniors, and then he continues those conversations with students in their first year out. Most have gone on to a college of some sort. And here is one of the major insights that emerged from all of this research—90% of the students in his project were not ready for college. The issue wasn’t that they needed better skills (reading, writing, arithmetic). The problem is even more fundamental than that. They were entirely disengaged and uninterested in what college had to offer. Clydesdale describes these students as having an “identity lockbox,” as having sequestered their deepest beliefs and stifled their curiosity so that almost nothing of lasting significance was taking place. In other words, only one in ten really got it—that a fabulous opportunity was available and engagement is the right response.

-- Donald Opitz

Looking to be more engaged in college? The annual Jubilee Conference is just around the corner and today is the last day to register at the “early bird rate.” Register now!

Skipping Class

College classes weren’t quite what I thought they would be like. I’m not sure what fueled my imagination, but for some reason I pictured deep discussions, reading important books, drinking coffee with professors, and debating with classmates. Now, this could be found on my campus, to be sure, but it wasn’t the norm.

I can remember the first time I had to choose classes. I considered consulting my advisor, but he was hard of hearing and English was his second language. So, a group of friends met in the computer lab (laptops weren’t the norm yet either!) and we looked through the course selections. Here was the criterion: nothing before 10:00, nothing after 4:00, no major research papers, the more standardized tests the better, especially if they’d been “standardized” for over 10 years! One friend told me: “If you have Dr. so-and-so write ‘go Cubs!’ at the end of every test. He will give you an extra letter grade.” I tried it and I think it worked. Seriously.

But then something happened. A local youth pastor gave me a recorded lecture by Ravi Zacharias, speaking at Harvard. I sat in my car to listen to it and skipped class to finish it. I was fascinated not just by his main point, that the Truth claims of Christ had a place in the academy, but by his underlying message: ideas matter. Ravi was serious about learning and his passion was contagious.

I still consider that day sitting in the car listening to Ravi as a milestone in my life of faith. For the first time I realized that being faithful to Christ included caring about learning. It would eventually take more than a taped lecture to push me to greater faithfulness, but it was a start. Ironically, I learned it while skipping class.

Go Cubs!

Curious George

The little monkey was always getting into trouble. He’d follow his nose into something interesting and soon he’d be in deep. That’s all I remember from the yesteryear children’s books and cartoons. The very young are more curious than George. Their capacious minds are open, they sense that there is much to learn, and they follow their little noses into the unknown. My best students are childlike (George-like?) in the same way; they are open, humble and curious. I love it when I encounter curiosity in the classroom. This is, sadly but understandably, the exception and not the rule. Most of my students are not actively curious. Curiosity has been wrung out of them by the struggle to fit in, to move on, and to get out. To stand out, to pause, and to get into something interesting is seen as the formula for eggheaded oddity.

Students learn best when their curiosity is piqued, and when they discover somebody else who shares their fascination. As you reflect about your own calling to be a student, I hope that you will experience:

• awe—for this is really the beginning of wonder
  
• meaning—the quest to connect the little things of life to the big and awe-full thing
  
• insight—the discovery of the big thing right in the little thing under investigation

Curiosity isn’t monkey business, and it isn’t simply a quirky quality. It is a fundamental attribute of the disciple that wants to honor the Lord with all her mind.

--Donald Opitz

How Do You Pray?

Recently I had a great conversation about academic faithfulness with students at a nearby college. The students were honest and open about their own struggles to be faithful to Christ in academic pursuits. What hinders academic faithfulness? Many responded that they were overwhelmed, fragmented, lazy, and only motivated by grades. We then discussed what practices might lead toward academic faithfulness. Prayer was mentioned. I asked, “How many of you pray about what you are learning?” Again, the group was honest: academics is rarely on their prayer list.

What follow comes from page 105 of The Outrageous Idea of Academic Faithfulness. This is a challenge to us all as we consider how to pray to the Lord of education:

Would you be willing to commit yourself to a week-long prayer experiment? Pray for your professors, for your classmates, for your research interests, for wisdom. If you are part of a prayer or Bible study group, pray about taking learning seriously. Pray before each class. A brief prayer will do just fine, and pray before you begin to engage your readings and assignments. We think that this is a good place to start the journey of academic faithfulness and this is something tangible that you can do. We also think that this experiment will help you to establish an important practice that in time will change you. Saying a little prayer like this before a class or before you study would be a good start:

God, I trust that you have called me to this institution, this major, this class. Help me to discern the lies, to retain valuable insights, and to contribute humbly as I may. I ask for your wisdom as I learn more about your world. Watch over me as I study and engage this material. Through my work here prepare me to serve in your kingdom.

Marks of Academic Revival

Recently, my wife and I were given a book that has become the catalyst for rethinking the notion of revival on our college campuses. The book, Accounts of a Campus Revival, by Timothy Beougher and Lyle Dorsett, is an account of a spiritual revival that unfolded on the campus of Wheaton College in 1995. It records testimony from those at Wheaton and other colleges throughout the country who have experienced similar spiritual movements and revivals.

Accounts of a Campus Revival captured my attention because as these events were occurring I was an undergraduate at Geneva College, a small Christian school in western Pennsylvania. I distinctly remember the desires of many students and a handful of staff for a replication of the Wheaton revival. We prayed, sang, read the scriptures, and engaged in communal confession. When the dust had settled in the early hours of the morning, people were exhausted from crying out for the Lord to come. I staggered to my room and slept through both of my classes that day. These steps were repeated for a few weeks until, feeling as defeated as the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel, I fell back into the normalcy of college life.

Over a decade later, I am reminded of that moment, of that event. In 1995, the question that haunted our minds was, "How do we create a campus revival?" Now, after years of working in campus ministry and having entered the simultaneous roles of student and teacher, the question has been reformed. Instead of asking how to create a revival (as if it were ours for the creating), it seems that the question more properly should be, "What is campus revival?" Or, perhaps as I want to pose here, "What is academic revival?"

Robert E. Coleman, in Accounts of a Campus Revival, defines revival this way: "to wake up and live" (derived from Psalm 85:6). Further, Coleman looks to Charles Finney in suggesting that revival simply "consists in obeying God." These are worthwhile and faithful pursuits. Yet, there seems to be an inconsistency between these definitions and the testimony of what occurred, what I hoped for. The accounts of campus revival consisted of a wildly irregular occurrence of the "spiritual," including nightlong prayer, healing, confession, and a diligent pursuit of traditional spiritual disciplines. Not to be misunderstood, I am not suggesting that those who inhabit college campuses should not pursue traditional disciplines, nor do I suggest that the hand of the Reviver was not at work on these college campuses in the mid-1990s (I cannot declaim this enough). But what I want to call on my friends and colleagues to pray for is a different type of revival.

A peculiar characteristic of the accounts of revival is that they had very little to do with the academy. The revival happened at a site, disembodied from the purposes, mission, and primary pursuits of the institution of higher education. I recall nowhere testimony of how the Spirit moved in the lecture halls, in library study carrels, late night study groups, or in the writing center. The revival or, better yet, the renewal that I pray for is one that is rooted in a place that is intimately connected with the intent of its locus.

If, as Finney asserts, revival is obedience unto God, then campus revival would be composed of the renewed pursuit of traditional disciplines. But the primary thrust should be distinctly marked by a passionate pursuit of living fully in the roles and vocations to which we are called as students, as professors, and as staff workers. To truly "wake up and live" on the college campus would see Christian students, faculty and staff chasing after university life, together. It would consist of students taking their studies seriously in a transformational way, and faculty members seeing their teaching as a holy calling from the Lord of education Himself. These things would be pursued as spiritual disciplines. Instead of skipping classes to take part in prayer meetings, students might even skip their fellowship groups to create and craft serious scholarly work that exemplified and added to the Kingdom of God.

I want to briefly suggest a working list of nine marks of academic revival in the hope that it can be built upon and added to.

1. Students' pursuing the vocation of learning
If this sounds self-evident, I would invite you to visit and talk with undergraduates at colleges and universities. Within the halls of learning many or most students are in college for the sake of acquiring a $100,000 ticket to a higher paying job. This desire is created and sustained by a culture of upward mobility. The dominant paradigm screams, "Get a degree, make more money, buy a big house and things you don't need." To engage in learning, in my experience, is clearly not the primary telos (purpose) of many college students.

2. Students and teachers' stewarding the resources of learning
There are many resources available that are radical, transformational, but eminently accessible. Students and staff alike should pursue books, online resources, conferences, and people who aid in the pursuit of loving God in the academy. Sources of learning would end not with a class syllabus, but would extend creatively "beyond." Those who are not within the contexts of classrooms pursuing a faithful study of disciplines from a Kingdom perspective would engage in double-study. They would not only work within the confines of their assignments, but they would also be working overtime to understand content from within the grand narrative of Scripture.

3. Students, teachers, and staffs making friendships
I do not mean that they would be buddies or merely congenial. I pray that students and staff would cultivate a deep care for one another, engage in dialogue, and push one another toward further faithfulness as co-laborers in their related vocations. I am delighted that I have had the benefit of open doors and standing invitations from professors. Some of the most memorable and substantial learning moments I experienced were in a professor's living room, drinking exotic teas and delving into the ideas and events of the world. Even more radically, this semester I was invited along with two other professors to have dinner and fellowship in one of the men's resident halls on campus. These young men had prepared an amazing meal for us, so as to show their gratitude and to ask questions regarding faithful living as students.

4. Students' "leaving" their colleges
One of the things I regret most about my time at Geneva is that while I was waiting for "revival" I did not take advantage of leaving. When revival comes, students will use their time to leave and see what is beyond: they will study abroad, they will use their summers to become wise, they will live off campus to live in communities so as to meet people embedded in life outside the academy and to remember what is beyond the walls of the learning.

5. Students' praying
They will pray about the things commonly seen as revival, but they will also pray for wisdom and diligence in their pursuit of knowing deeply, of working tirelessly, and of developing an understanding about what academics have to do with the entirety of life.

6. Students and teachers' engaging academic breadth
The future caseworker will plunge into the required earth science class, the engineer would drink of the humanities, and the special education teacher would taste the glory of God in their political science core class. Likewise, professors will be proponents of an understanding of the breadth of the creation through support of a strong core and the exploration of classes outside of their disciplines.

7. Working to the glory of God alone
In an environment where evaluation reigns this pursuit certainly is difficult. The majority of students are driven by grades, whether it is those who try to determine what is the least amount of work required to attain the best grade possible or those who toil vigorously for the sake of the highest esteem and opportunity beyond graduation. Meanwhile, many professors teach and publish for the sake of tenure and status. When academic revival sweeps through our college campuses, we will experience an excellence unlike any other we have seen before. As the apostle Paul exhorts the church at Colossae: "Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men" (Colossians 3:23). This sort of wholehearted work will result in entrance into graduate schools, tenure, and positions of great significance, and will bring an "inheritance from the Lord" as our reward.

8. Desiring and praying for constant renewal
Revival is often marked by a sudden, irregular, and short-lived movement. Our hope and prayer should be for a deeply rooted, consistent, and lasting transformation on our campuses. Borrowing from Eugene Peterson, may our academic work be "a long obedience in the same direction."

9. Embracing the whole
Are we suggesting a revival limited to the academy? Let me say that this renewal will spring forth within the classroom and move beyond its walls. A responsible pursuit of the normative roles of educator and student is not one that merely casts aside other aspects of life. It integrates them. The roles of student and teacher include care for practiced justice, love of genuine relationship, and the appropriate practice of recreation and play, as well as academics.

In discussing some of these markers of revival with students and staff I know and appreciate, I have been met with diverse responses. Some are inspired and have begun the long journey. Others dismiss them as characteristic of the idealism of youth, as if it would take a miracle to see these marks realized. The former offer me hope. The latter are more correct than they know. It will be miraculous. And this is why we cry out like the psalmist to the God who administers miracles in our lives and vocations:

"Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you?"

-- Keith Martel

This article originally appeared in Comment magazine, the opinion journal of CARDUS.

Born to Learn

My son Jacob Henry was born on November 12, 2007. It’s fun to watch him learn new things. Now, he hasn’t had any outrageous ideas yet or anything. He’s more in the discovery mode. Everything is new! That must be my hand. Oh, look at that light. Who is that guy making weird faces and talking funny? Jacob is a learner. Mostly learning fills the spaces between eating and sleeping.

In the beginning God created learners. It’s there in the text. God “took man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it” (Genesis 2:15). Think of the learning involved in that task. And, remember, Adam couldn’t run to Home Depot for a shovel! In fact, you can trace “learning” throughout the whole Biblical story. The Psalmists speak of meditating on God’s law day and night. Proverbs is concerned with turning knowledge into wisdom. The Prophets decried that the people of God didn’t know God or his Word. Jesus came as a teacher and said we were to love God with our minds. The Apostle Paul told us to take everything we learn and make it obedient to Christ. Learning, it seems, is central to being a Christian.

Here’s the deeper point: Learning is central to being human. We were born to learn. God has graciously given us a whole world to explore and discover. There are always new things to learn. But here’s the flipside: if we are not learning, if we are not continually using our minds in God honoring ways, we’re not living up to our God-given potential. Do you know people like that? They’ve stopped learning. You know the guy who hasn’t read a book in five years. Or, the person who has everything figured out and figures she doesn’t need to learn anything more. I know people like that. Sometimes I go down that road.

And here’s the weird thing about our culture: school sometimes hinders learning. Imagine that. If we don’t have good reasons for learning, or if our learning becomes disconnected to everyday life, it can become boring or meaningless. Jacob is growing by leaps and bounds. My prayer is that he continues to grow as a learner.

NEW Leader's Guide

While the book The Outrageous Idea of Academic Faithfulness can be used for individual study, we have found that students grasp the content of the book much more thoroughly when read under the guidance of a mentor, small group leader or teacher. The leader’s guide is designed to assist leaders in their preparation for leading discussions around the themes in the book. Our hope is to see a generation of young scholars take both their faith and studies seriously. May this new study guide help toward that end!

Click here to learn more about the Leader's Guide

Click here to download the Leader's Guide (.pdf)