Trinitas Blog

In the last post we anticipated what habits would help husbands and fathers to be oriented toward the life of the home in ways that produce good fruit. What follows is not comprehensive. In fact it may seem simple, but simple things are often most important because they are most basic to life: plants need watering to live, pets need feeding to flourish, and man, well, man needs spiritual habits to cultivate holiness.

If you are Christian Educator, you are an idealist by nature. In your mind, students should have a passionate/ burning desire to learn. You want your classes abuzz with vibrant discussion and thought provoking dialogue. You expect your students to be fully prepared coming into every class. Even more, as the teacher, you hope that they come with questions that challenge you and push you to become a better communicator of truth.

At least this was my mindset entering into a teaching career. But after a few years of teaching, I was completely disabused of my idealist tendencies. None of my expectations panned out. I found that students were often frustrated with the learning process. My classes were not vibrant centers for discussion and thought provoking dialogue. Students (the majority of them) were not prepared for class. And as for being challenged by my students, I found myself more jaded as a teacher than spurred on.

The parent of a senior shared this story with me this week. The scene – after school; the student has something in a plastic bag.

Parent: “Whatcha got?”

Student: “Oh. That’s my… robe and……… helmet.” (Cap and gown)

Parent: “Classically trained, indeed.”

In the last post I ended with a thesis:

“A man’s improvement in the home comes through reorientation of his heart and habits.”

Let’s start with the heart.

Any notion that coming home to escape the hardships of the world also involves escaping the hardships of the home is a not-so-subtle retreat from a man’s godly responsibility. Worse, it is a lack of faith in God’s promise that great joy, the fullness of life, comes from precisely this labor from which Dad often wants to escape.

In the last post on Life's Chief Labor, I ended with the following claim:

“Every wife and every child can tell the difference between the father-and-husband’s genuine sacrificial work on behalf of the family that takes him out of their presence, and the sort of activity that the father-and-husband chooses for himself that takes him away with no perceivable benefit.”

When Dad has a job that requires him to work eight-t0-twelve-hour days to earn income, his family can see that the income he draws provides tremendous stability in the present and, if Dad is wise, into the future. The tangible goods Dad provides by his outside labor—clothes, food, shelter, recreation, etc.—Mom and the kids enjoy. However, Dad also brings significant good, or harm, through his labors in the home. When Dad gets home, are his choices bringing him into the lives of his wife and children, or escaping from them?

In his book, The Liberated Imagination: Thinking Christianly About the Arts, Leland Ryken asks a simple but provocative question: “Why do people hang paintings on walls?” There is of course the straightforward response: “because they enjoy said paintings.” But there is another level to the response worth considering, and its implications ripple out beyond the singular notion of picture hanging. Creative expressions have been how humanity thought and considered the reality around it for all recorded history. We don’t write or tell stories or sing just because we enjoy it; we also do these things because we must.

Every quarter, our students are invited to participate in the Classic Film Society. We gather, eat popcorn, watch movies, and then spend time discussing the ways these films wrestle with the Gospel, even if they do it inadvertently. This is more than just an excuse to watch good movies, because movies are one of the primary way our culture searches for the Gospel. Directors aren’t necessarily looking to imbed the content of Christianity in their film, but they cannot escape the shape of Christianity.[1] Films made in the past demonstrate this, as do those that continue to come to a theater near you.

And this is one of the beauties of our Classic Film Society: what we do connects with current movies as well. 

Our present culture offers little help to the Church Militant. Comforts and distractions abound; the continuous drone of ubiquitous advertisements chant a mantra of “you deserve it,” “take a break,” and “pamper yourself.” Lest we become the proverbial frog, slowly boiled to death in the accumulating abominations of our age, the Church must recover the glory and joy of indefatigable labor.