New article now available: THE WAY UP IS DOWN (On Tom Holland’s Dominion, Robert L. Reymond’s theology of ministry, Martin of Tours, and living faith in the secular age).
General George Marshall wrote “The Soldier’s spirit is everything” Only the fool would disagree. So, why are we eroding the ethics that feed the Soldier’s soul? I hope you can read my latest for the American Spectator. When the moral foundations of our civilization are attacked we introduce fissures to the whole. And nothing is more inhumane or self-defeating than sending Soldiers to fight without a resolute ethical reference.
As a doctoral supervisor, I publish a newsletter entitled Dissertation Digest. I share it with our readers in case you know of someone who could use it. This is part of the ministry of the D James Kennedy Institute and Faith for Living. Our vision for this project is “Christian scholarship in the service of Jesus Christ and the Church.”
I shall forever be grateful to God for the influence of my professors at “në Institutin e Gjuhëve të Huaja për Mprojtje”—the Defense Language Institute. When one is eighteen years old and selected for top-secret service, the world is your playground—or, so one supposes. You see, there was this “small matter” of studying. My study habits were poor, even if my recall was excellent. That one quality, combined with a love of reading, had always held me in good spread. I read almost as much as I breathed. However, my seat-of-the-pants study approach of Albanian in the context of cryptography did not cut it at the prestigious Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California. Soon, dangerously soon, I was in over my head. “There’s a nice radioman chair in Guam for smarty-pants guys like you! Get with it Milton or you will be painting rocks on an island in the Pacific!” Funny. That senior chief Petty Officer was much wiser than his speech led me to first believe. I thought I was smart enough to wing it, but I was terribly mistaken. One man, though, took notice of all three factors and intervened.
Professor Zef Nekaj (pronounced, Nei-Kai) was an Albanian-American Catholic Professor of Albanian, an escapee from a Communist labor camp in Yugoslavia, he undertook a treacherous journey across the Adriatic Sea to Italy. From an Albanian expatriate camp in Italy, Nekaj went to California. It was there that the Defense Language Institute add the Goodcents to recruit him to teach Albanian language and culture. This enigmatic man taught me how to learn and to express ideas. In thinking through my lessons from Dr. Nekaj, I keep thinking that he also taught me to teach. As he captivated us with remarkable stories of enduring the nightmarish decades of Communism (often with hilarious physical imitations of foolish Soviet guards who could be bribed with a piece of moldy bread and spoiled jam), he taught me even more. He taught me how to cherish a freedom that comes from God, not a human government. In education, Dr. Nekaj showed me student-centered teaching. Decades before “competency-based education” and “scaffolding” were “the thing,” Professor Zef Nekaj set similar standards of excellence. When you, his student, achieved his levels, you could advance to a new level. And if you flinched? Then he took it personally. Any student who stutter-stepped invariably jettisoned this tenacious pedagogue into a fierce and focused campaign to wrestle success from defeat.
No respective student or students—an airman, “Coastie,” CIA operations officer, FBI agent, Marine, Sailor, State Department field officer, Soldier, or special assignment Merchant Mariner—would ever remain behind. The Balkan baron of his “sacred classroom” labored until all students achieved standard. My early mornings in Monterey (invariably joined by the playful otters beneath Fisherman’s Wharf, my favorite thinking place during those days in Steinbeck country), began with a question born out of yesterday’s experiences: “Where will this magnificent curator of ideas takes us today?” I can never erase the pure joy of anticipation of those unforgettable halcyon hours. His lesson plan must have contained only one ink-smeared line: “Let them experience Albania.” The thing is, Dr. Nakaj’s lesson planner notes are an unknown entity. Yet, his lessons were renowned. What would follow would be an indelible three-hour, one-man living history festival. His goals of imparting vocabulary, conjugating verbs, declining nouns, and teaching art and literature, history, and politics, were accomplished with a collection of characters—Cold War dictators, Illyrian widow women, English spies, little dogs jumping to get some cake at a northern Albanian wedding. The characters were all brought to life by one life-loving, imaginative, Albanian mountain man. He used a veritable magician’s mystery bag of national costumes, impromptu pantomime, facial expressions, voices, and stories—oh the stories! —to host his amazing adventures of learning. Yet, the end was never in question. He gloried in his students’ accomplishments.
I graduated from the Defense Language Institute in September 1977. Dr. Nekaj pulled me aside before graduation exercises. I had been his project. He had carved a unique individual out of the roughhewn stone that I presented. Perhaps, one should not say “unique,” which suggests that I was his only project. The truth is that he was a sort of Professor Henry Higgins, and we were each, in our own way, Eliza. However, unlike Higgins in George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, Dr. Nekaj went about his transformative work with no interest in self-glory. He was totally focused on his students. I have never known a more student-centric instructor. Standing tall and as gangly as Abe Lincoln, Dr. Nekaj leaned in to whisper his personal charge to me (I have no doubt he repeated a personalized version of the charge to each of his students): “Learning is a privilege. It is nothing short of a gift from God. A course conclusion is never a terminal degree. A degree—any degree—is merely a ‘license to learn.’”
The following essay began as an introduction to a course that I teach in seminary. I left the more parochial subject of journaling as a way to bring the reader into the real-life progression of thought from theology professor to divinity student. Though our environment is theological higher education I trust the thoughts might find application with fellow educators from Kindergarten to Law School.
On Spiritual Journaling
The spiritual journal is an important part of this course. However, the journal is highly personalized. It is yours. You operate on the honor system and so it is required but not inspected (Who would want to write honestly in a journal and then have someone else to read it?) So, there is no inspection of your journal. Therefore, whether you decide to have daily or weekly entries is up to you.
I would imagine that monthly entries would be counterproductive. In an eight week intensive course that would mean you would have two entries. I don’t believe you would serve yourself well in that scenario.
The goal of a spiritual journal is to capture your most immediate responses to the material that you encounter in your seminary studies, and seek to prayerfully discover how your discoveries lead you to the Lord Jesus Christ and His call on your life. So, I should think anything less than one per week is not ordinarily helpful. If I were to ask you a question, “Where did you discover God today in your studies?” How would you respond? So, I believe that daily or even multiple entries in a 24-hour cycle will be more helpful for your journaling goals. However, I don’t want to project my own spiritual needs on you.
I trust and pray this is of some help to you.
A Story on the Necessity of Self-discovery
A brief story for you: when I studied at the University of Wales in Great Britain, I had to be re-orientated to teaching and learning since the English system from college to graduate school to postgraduate school is based on research and independent, and self-motivation.
I recall an American student at old Saint David’s in Wales (where J.C. Ryle’s son was Rector, now, part of the University of Wales system) who, after the first lecture in the course module, approached the professor and informed him of an apparent oversight. “Sir, I don’t find anything in the materials, such as a syllabus or course guide. I don’t know what is to be read by the next class meeting. I didn’t even see any guidance about deliverables, or rubrics. I don’t know how to go forward. The professor responded by a rather extended pause.
“There are no instructions or guides to progress in our postgraduate program. We will provide you all of the resources, available guidance, assistance, and lectures you will need. However, I hasten to repeat: there are no step-by-step instructions to learning. Learning is entirely up to you. The only mandate is you must pass the course to advance. We don’t want to interfere with at process. Learning is a self-motivated journey, and, therefore, not the professor’s responsibility. How could it be? If you want to learn, read. Read deeply and read widely. If you want to receive the possibility of a deeper, or, perhaps more extensive acquaintance with our subjects, thereby increasing the likelihood of insight, then, by all means, attend the lectures. I hold tutoring several times in the term. Some students find that more intimate time of discussion quite helpful. Others don’t. I am neither encouraged or discouraged by the attendance. The methods that work for one do not necessarily work for another. The most important thing for you in postgraduate study is reading. Read the recommended books but don’t stop there. Follow the footnote trail.”
The Reverend Canon Dr. William Price, Professor of History, University of Wales
The student was used to a regulated course of study which was focused on the professor’s requirements rather than the student’s desire to learn. So, the student, seeking further clarification, responded, with mild exasperation, “But you don’t even say when you will have tests!” Lifting a cup and saucer to his mouth, the imminent doctor of the Church whispered his reply, blowing into the cup to cool the steaming tea.
“Well, that is quite an astute observation. It is very helpful for me to know your expectations. I can see how you would, naturally, want to know mine. So, here’s the thing: You see, there is only one test. That examination comes at the conclusion of this course. You will write what you have discovered. Representatives of our faculty, and guest faculty from other universities in the Realm, will pose questions. From your writing and your responses to our ‘little questions,’ a majority will discern if you have conducted sufficient independent research or not.”
Dr. Price
I can tell that story without rehearsal. You see, I was that student. Dr. William Price was my PhD “first supervisor” at the University of Wales.
The goal of a spiritual journal is to capture your most immediate responses to the material that you encounter in your seminary studies, and seek to prayerfully discover how your discoveries lead you to the Lord Jesus Christ and His call on your life.
M. A. Milton
On that One Sacred Moment
My time invested in the British school of teaching and learning has paid steady dividends over the years. While returning to “The Cousins’” system of higher education I have not abandoned the values gleaned from a research-centered system. More pointedly, I came to see the rewards of a research-based educational system in theological higher education. The initiative for learning must be upon the student. The professor guides, provides perspective and, perhaps, hard- gained insight. He presents ideas, provides private tutoring when necessary — academic counseling, if you prefer—and instructs the class with faithfulness. However, the joy of learning, and deeper-learning thorough self-discovery, is, likely, missed altogether if the professor limits teaching and learning to a regimented system of weekly to-do lists. This teacher-centered approach restrains the natural course of learning by replacing it with imposed milestones that measure efficiency of time and executive functions over learning. There is merit in time management and fulfilling the duties of membership in an organization. However, the course goals and any truthful evaluation of such objectives, are quite different from competency in learning and deep learning. My goal is for students to journey into a new world where treasures await the hearty soul that will not be denied. For there, in that exploration of ideas, one might possibly “crack the code” that not only discovers Truth and Beauty, but personally encounters that brilliant light at the nexus of knowledge and experience: the illuminating insight that triggers integration and application of learning to life. This is when knowledge quite possibly becomes wisdom.
Designing Courses for Learners
Let learning be a light to lead you, not a burden to drag behind you.
M.A. Milton
Given that philosophy of education, I seek to design a course of graduate theological education with both independent research and a required student self-motivation I design a course with that one sacred moment in mind: when there is a veritable catalytic conversion of knowledge to wisdom. One prays for this moment for the student. A teacher carefully offers and limits self so that another might make that discovery.
So I try to design a course of study that prioritizes the student’s pathway to self-discovery. I want to open the gate (not guard the gate) to intellectual curiosity, critical thinking, and theological reflection. In this way, as your mind and heart are fueled by your vocation, motivated by your desire for “excellence in all things and all things for Christ,” you will explore and learn independently. Let learning be a light to lead you, not a burden to drag behind you.
So, read deeply and widely. Research by following the footnote trail. And pray. Pray for that one holy moment of realization that unleashes the mind to think thoughts after God.
Last night, I thought of Czeslaw Milosz (1911-2004). (Pronounced: Chefwash Miyosh). So, I drew his likeness, displayed here.
I learned that he died – one of my favorite poets, who wrote about the horrors of the Cold War (now, it seems, forgotten) – on the morning when my family and I were in Aberdeen, Scotland. We were on High Street. I was sitting at an outside café, having coffee, reading the Times, when I saw his obituary. It just happens to be one of those moments that I recall. I served in Naval Intellignce in the Cold War. I met many refugees from Communist countries, all with unique and yet similar stories. Those who advocate Socialism should read his stark poetry, and prose about exile from his home of Poland (and Lithuania). Milosz taught at Stanford. Like so many Communist exiles, he, and my professors at the Defence Language Institute in Monterey, sought and found refuge in Gov. Reagan’s sraunch anti-Communist State of California. Much has changed.
Some Lines from Czesław Miłosz
“The living owe it to those who no longer can speak to tell their story for them.” ― Czesław Miłosz, The Issa Valley
“There is the warm, human presence of a God who took on flesh in order to experience our hunger and our pain, so we would not be doomed to strain our eyes upward but could be nourished by words spoken by lips like our own. And the God-man is not one of us in our moments of pride and glory but one of us in misfortune, in slavery, and in the fear of death. The hour when he agreed to accept suffering conquers time; centuries of change and passing civilizations are insignificant and short-lived, and no wasteland of cement, glass, and metal will make man different from those men Christ addressed in Galilee. He still has the right to proclaim: ‘I am love.’” On Catholicism, 1984.
This is the third message in the series Silent No More: “A Holy God.” The study is from Isaiah 58. This sermon also looks at Isaiah 6 and Matthew 5:48.
“So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one” (Ezekiel 22:30).
The Painting is by Joseph Mallord William Turner. It is called “The Hero of a Hundred Fights” (c.1800-10, reworked and exhibited 1847). It may be seen at Tate Gallery, London. The scene is that of a foundry at work and the eye is drawn to the burst of light. The painting was first displayed next to a painting of Noah and created some commotion in the art world for distracting from Noah’s rainbow. Yet the foundry painting was done as Turner captured the image of the common men who worked at the “breaking away of the mould at the casting of M.C Wyatt’s bronze equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington which had occurred in September 1845…” (Tate Gallery).
There is always a need for an artist to look beneath the heroes that everyone sees to discover the heroes that few see and remind us of all of them. The storytellers and artists stand in the gap as well as the unseen heroes.
There is also a need for men and women of prayer to stand in the gap. We see the Wellingtons of faith and can acknowledge them. Yet they who are faithful and true will quickly tell you that they are dependent upon the foundry of prayer where the casting of Providence is poured and the bright light of destiny is secured. They must have saints who will stand in the gap if they are to stand in the crowds. Only a fool would preach without prayer.
How are you answering God’s call to stand in the gap for the Body of Christ today?
There are many who are called to positions of leadership. Yet leadership is not about a title. It is not about gaining a consensus. Leadership is about burden, conviction, a fire burning deeply, a holy discontentment, a righteous indignation. There are many other ways to say it. Leaders lead by a burden that is lifted by a conception of what life looks like when the burden is lifted. That conception is called vision. Vision then gives life to mission. Values guide the way. All other strategies and plans are tactical consequences of burden, vision, and values. Leaders spend time surrounding themselves with capable people who believe in the burden, vision, and values that causes you to “burn alive.” They get so close to you that they, too, “catch on fire” themselves. Yet their job is to then help you figure out “how” to decode the burden, interpret the vision, and inculcate the values among others. Your job is then three-fold: (1) keep living, embodying, modeling, and proclaiming the burden, vision, and values, which you cannot help but do if it is authentic, but which you can be diverted from if your superior (s) and/or team underestimate the absolute necessity of that up-front modeling role, and desire that you join them as a “tactician;” and (2) entrust the critical and time consuming “how to” land the vision job to a trusted staff of lieutenants, resource officers, a cabinet, or whatever you call them—and (3) always “inspect what you expect” from these important people. And you are inspecting for what? You are expecting and therefore inspecting your key resource staff for what you live for: the burden, vision, mission, and values. All questions about their tactical assistance and expertise in carrying out their assigned part of the plan must relate to those four areas. One other thing: be careful that they don’t confuse their roles. They bear the sacred responsibility for tactically implementing the vision of the visionary. They are not there to add to your vision, or adjust it, or replace it. If so, they have become visionaries deserving, or not, of their own mission. Again, they are in leadership but they are not the leader. This is not to diminish their own personal burdens and visions. The question is, “Has their passion matured or has God’s timing arrived to allow for a multiplication of leadership. Or, is their calling yet to remain in a supporting role? A supporting role is most critical. If you could ask Roosevelt how important Eisenhower was I think you know the answer! All are critical to success on a leadership team. Yet it remains: there can be but one in a singular enterprise. Competing visions lead to conflict and division in the most severe cases and inefficiencies and misunderstandings in even minor episodes. There is no shame in recognizing the emergence of genuine burden within an organization for senior leadership. To the contrary, that is a mark of growth, a sign of health. A member of the leadership team may also have become misguided, defeated, misunderstood, or isolated and will need encouragement to be redirected to pursue their tactical goals. Finally, there may be genuine usurpers who no longer share your burden, and thus lack your same vision; perhaps, then, no longer committed to the mission, or even at odds with your values. If this is discovered you will help these people by directly but pastorally clarifying the question. If your inquiry reveals any authentic diversion, they must be helped to transition out of the team. If the burden is that great, then the vision and thus the mission and tactical plans will be that important. A parting need not be acrimonious. Indeed, a leader may show genuine honor to another who has diverted from the vision due to changes in views or honest disagreements that can’t be reconciled. The spoiler may be malicious. Often, though, it is a matter of honest disagreement. Since most of us will disagree with ourselves from time to time we can be patient and charitable who disagree with us. Yet there will come a time when the burden will once again “appear” before, summoning you to give account for your handling of the mission that leads to the fulcrum to lift the burden: the vision. You will have to “inspect what you expect” and if what you find in your staff’s work is not in harmony with the greater mission leading to the vision that lifts the burden, then Christian leaders must act with firm and godly resolve to return balance and forward movement.
Recently, the passing of the former Prime Minister of Great Britain, Margaret Thatcher, allowed us to pause and reconsider just how rare and impacting undiluted leadership can be. The type of leadership that I have suggested was summed up with characteristic beauty by Peggy Noonan in her reflections:
“She [Margaret Thatcher] said once to her aides: ‘I don’t need to be told what, I need to be told how.’ Meaning I have a vision, you have to tell me how we can implement it. That stayed in my mind. Politics now, in England as well as America, is dominated by politicians who are technicians. They always know how to do it. They just don’t know what to do.” —Peggy Noonan (The Wall Street Journal, April 20, 2013)
The same can be said about many in Christian leadership. We have a lot who study the “how” of leadership. What we need are those who are convicted by the “what” of burden.
Yet I have seen a new generation of leaders arising. I have heard from those who are broken over the need for revival and will not rest until the Church in the West is awakened to her need to pray and witness and seek holiness of life. I have sat in the living rooms of pastors who prayed, burning with a fire of compassion for small, forgotten, rural communities of North America, who cringe every time they hear that the city is the only place to be. I personally know women whose hearts are torn out by the sight of Muslim women living in chains and they have chosen to go and live among them.
Some of these people sense the burden and are in a struggle of prayer to see the vision—the new heaven and new earth motif of how life could be “if only…” Others know the burden, have “seen” the vision, but are wondering about the “pathway” to the Promised Land—the Mission. Some have not clarified what values are mission essential and what values are not. And some never will. Yet the world will always wait for that one who has the fire in the bones who says, “Don’t tell me what, help me with the how. I have felt the what. I have seen it. I live for it. I would die for it. I need help in getting there.” All of these things must be and then comes the dream.
We need those people now more that ever. For those are leaders. Those are the ones who have understood the depth of pain of the prophet Jeremiah when he spoke as one imprisoned by God and whose only hope was found in proclaiming His Word,
“There is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in and I cannot” (Jeremiah 20:9).
Once again we are awakened with chilling news of a great tragedy that has beset our country. The shooting at the cinema in Aurora, Colorado has left us all horrified at the sheer brutality and utter disregard for life that led to this massacre of our fellow citizens. Our prayers go to the Lord Jesus Christ for His ministry to the families and friends in the community and in the greater Denver area. In a real way, such an event touches the whole nation and reminds us again of our vulnerability, not only from outside enemies but also from those unstable and troubled souls in our midst. May God have mercy upon our nation and call our hearts to come together in prayer and know again that our security is only in Christ.
Such an event reminds me of why Reformed Theological Seminary exists. We are here to not only prepare pastors to “take every thought captive” for Christ, but also to produce shepherds and counselors and other gospel servants who will be there to minister healing from the Bible to hurting people in times like these. May God strengthen the local pastors, counselors, and government authorities who seek to bring comfort to the grieving and justice for the victims.
Mae and I cut off the television this morning and listened to this rendition of “The Prayer” from Charlotte Church and Josh Groban. It led us to our own prayers. I share it with you this morning.
Commending us all to Christ and to the Word of his grace and praying for our nation and for the people of Colorado, I am
MichaelMilton.Org 