A theme throughout C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series is the idea that Aslan (the analog for Jesus in the series) is “not a tame lion.” This phrase generally conveys that Aslan (and by extension God) is not what we might expect or even want. Mr. Beaver, when asked if Aslan is safe replies, “Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” Lewis here captures what is sometimes called the terror

About three years ago I was scrolling through my YouTube recommendations feed, looking for new and interesting videos. Since I regularly view biblical and theological content, my feed often contains helpful resources (along with videos on college football or live music). As I scrolled, one particular video thumbnail caught my attention. The thumbnail contained an aesthetically pleasing animated image of Job. I clicked on the video and had my first exposure to The Bible Project.

Therefore I am terrified at his presence; when I consider, I am in dread of him. God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me; if only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face! (Job 23:15-17 NRSV) The book of Job opens with a description of the character of Job as a “blameless and upright” man who “feared God and turned away from evil” (Job 1:1). In the

Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart, and bring me out of my distress. Consider my affliction and my trouble, and forgive all my sins (Psalm 25:16-18; NRSV). Preachers on television constantly promise their viewers lives of health, wealth, and welfare. If you are sick, you will be healed. If you are struggling financially, a material blessing is headed your way. If

Doubt is, to some extent, built into our nature. Many people find themselves going through crises of faith at different points in their lives. Some doubts are more intellectual in nature, a failure to connect faith and reason well. Still, others doubt in a raw and emotional way. In my own experience, nothing makes me doubt my faith more than the suffering of children. It’s so visceral for me that I can’t even formulate it

As I sit by my daughter’s bed at 2am – teething, I’ve been told, will eventually pass – a number of thoughts traverse my tired mind. Most are muddled. What day is it? Did the Cubs win yesterday? What is the meaning of life? But I keep returning to one thought in particular: life is so complex. Doing some self-psychologizing, I came to realize a couple of things about this thought. Firstly, it’s not truly

My idea of God is a not divine idea. It has to be shattered from time to time. – C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed. Too often, I come across fellow Christians who exude a sort of theological swagger, a sophomoric arrogance about correct beliefs and proper doctrine. Though they might not say as much, they hold themselves up as self-proclaimed arbiters of the faith. A reasonable conviction, belief, doctrine, or theology, according to the

“Follow your passion!” Rings out perhaps the most popular piece of career advice for high school and college students. Simply figure out and follow what you most love, the section of the bookstore you gravitate towards, or what gets you out of bed in the morning, and you will have a meaningful and fulfilling career. “Choose a job you love,” so the saying goes, “and you will never have to work a day in your

Recently I started working as an intern in the tax department at an accounting firm. I am finding a rhythm to the work and my days are beginning to develop a pattern. Certainly, each day brings new work and different challenges, as well as different rewards. As I look ahead to sixty and even seventy hour weeks of preparing business tax returns between now and April 15th, I wonder what it would be like to

Why do we suffer? This is a question which, unfortunately, we all must ask at some point in our lives. The 2011-2012 academic year was a year in which this question took on a special relevance in my own life, first in a theology class devoted to wrestling with this question and then in my own life with the illness and death of my Grandfather. Life is painful when the lessons of the classroom become

This is the second post in a series examining what the New Evangelization within Roman Catholicism can learn from the aesthetics of Burke, Kant, and Malick. To read the previous post, click here. This sublime, one should note, is not a kind of masochism. Rather, it is something which catalyzes an awful delight from the passions. On how sensations of pain and pleasure integrate, Burke writes, “The person who grieves, suffers his passion to grow

What the New Evangelization Can Learn from the Aesthetics of Burke, Kant, and Mallick “Humility is the luxurious art of reducing ourselves to a point, not to a small thing or a large one, but to a thing with no size at all, so that to it all the cosmic things are what they really are–of immeasurable stature…to the spirit which has stripped off for a moment its own idle temporal standards the grass is