Reflections: The Threshold of Hell and Social Media Discourse

In a time of pandemic and cultural disgust, I find myself returning (repenting) amidst current dialogues by looking to old books for a sense of self, and a sense of God. One of the books that I have returned to is Dante’s Inferno. The reason I have decided to read this particular work is because of Dante’s profound ability to raise a sense of moral consciousness; the images employed cause the reader to look at the ravaging effects of sin upon men, and the beauty that fills the mind when one contemplates the grace of God intensified by its ugliest contrast. Dante gives the reader a sense that the existential implications of people’s conduct far outweighs the situations of their lives. The phrase inscribed on the gate of Hell lays heavily upon the reader as virtue is looked for, but not found, in much of current dialogue. Those who engage in social media discourse would do well to hear these words: “abandon every hope, all you who enter” (Inferno, pg. 14).

The threshold of Hell is a place called “Nowhere.” Virgil takes us on a journey to a place that is full of people who have never made a decision to be faithful to God. These people are people who have lived for entirely for themselves, without being characterized by “no blame and with no praise” (Inferno, pg. 15). They are people who have preserved their lives through indecision. In Hell they are doomed to march around a banner that never stops ever leading them on through eternity while being painfully stung by insects to their eternal hurt.

This is Medieval imagery. It is stark and highly punitive. It can, however, delineate a phenomenological reality that often occurs in social media discussions.

Social media has come to be a place where people are defined by their opinions. It is a discarnate technological medium that unites people through what they write and images they use. It is a platform for individual self-expression. This is an effort at unity which often seems to unavoidably separate folks and polarize the people who engage in any sort of political discussion (paradoxically a collective discourse serves to further polarization among the collective). People are more rash, statements are more impatient, and the atmosphere among those who disagree can be characterized by an intense hatred of anything or anyone who is different. Ideology and political affiliation separate us in reality, and social media discourse furthers that separation because our opinions are held out so unaccountably from our lives. Part of this is because so much of conversation is based on a person’s tone of voice, or facial expression which is never a contributing factor in extremely tense and difficult conversations. In this way, a discarnate social media presence seems to be more susceptible to greater emotion and less charitable thought because charity necessarily involves bodily reality with all of its risks, discomforts, and rewards.

What am I talking about?

I am talking particularly about the constant barrage of dissent regarding racial issues and police violence (I do not want to expound on any particular issue now because it is likely to become forgotten among future outbreaks, and because it is important to reflect on the framing of an issue as well as the issue itself); I am talking about an incendiary conversation where patience and love for those who are different from you is obscured by unaccountable emotions of anger and outrage.

As someone who has been aware of social media since its inception, and subsequently aware of the collective outrage regarding social injustice, I have acutely noticed how social media is used to generate collective feelings of rage. What I have also noticed is how those feelings of rage subside and are cyclically rekindled when another social crisis occurs generating a congealed narrative, often resolving nothing. The movement takes priority over the incident and the wrong. People quickly forget what the past injustice was, and eagerly jump at the new opportunity they have to express their outrage. It is an dialogue that is “momentarily bursting into enthusiasm, and shrewdly relapsing into repose” (The Present Age, pg. 3). Hence, the collective forgetfulness of those who use social media for political discord is just as important to notice as its collective outrage when considering this phenomenon objectively. The crisis serves a movement, and the crisis itself is not resolved, but enables a movement to undo the foundations of society without precise direction, or positive terminus.

Rage is generated, and rage is preserved, but memory is not. This is the degeneration of  social consciousness.

Because of this I am arguing that it is plausible to compare Dante’s threshold of hell to social media dialogues about racial inequality and police brutality. People march on to define themselves not by virtue, but by opinion. Opinion alone is something that is deceptively unable to grip with reality. Decisions must be made. Virtue can never be something displayed apart from actual interaction between physical people, and it is the quality of our lives displayed by what we do. Furthermore, the banner that marches us on and on is every injustice, real or perceived, generated by a soundbite or clip. All that is required of us is to passionately agree with what is being said with no specific bearing on our actual day to day lives. Through our participation in this void we have become a people with many opinions, few values, and even fewer virtues because we have ceased to speak and act in reality. No change is required of us when passionate opinion on social media serves as the dehumanized form of cultural currency.

The domain of social media is the “Nowhere.” It is a place where people can talk with little to no consequence for their words. It is a place without deeds. The “feed” marches us on with every new bit of information motivating us by a satisfying release of dopamine when we tell someone off, or get approval for what we post. This is truly an exploitation of the human experience. Jean Baudrillard speaks of “hyperreality” as a phenomenon which replaces the real (Disneyland); what I would call hyperunreality replaces not only the real through a substitution of the real with something purely simulative; through a disembodied experience of that simulation. Quality conversations, thoughts, and self-denial are things that have truly ceased to occur regular interaction because they do not regularly happen at dinner tables, or in living rooms with people we love, but on a digital platform with people that we may know, or may have no relation to at all. The platform has become as infinite as the masses using it. Therefore, the truth is lost in a flurry of voices that have no bearing upon life because the conversation is removed from bodily experience with the ironic goal of self-expression. Interactions like these that separate the mind’s voice bodily, interpersonal expression leave us with unfortunate stings of conscience and conflicting opinions within ourselves, or voiced by others. It is a journey without singular vision, and without beatitude.

What is to be done?

Throughout the Inferno Dante is patiently guided by Virgil. In many instances Dante loses his strength before the sights of horror that he witnesses; often he needs the words and prompting of his guide to cause him to see and understand greater and more terrible things. While painfully witnessing the godlessness of society we are called, like Dante, to leave cowardice and distrust aside in order to see the necessity of good through its most immanent opposite. We are called to seek God with all that we are. People today need guides who can speak to them in the stark reality of life encouraging them to be better fathers, neighbors, and friends. I turn to old books for guidance, to works of literature that have the ability to raise my mind above depersonalized mass movements, and social media contempt. I also turn to my friends who have been my instructors and source of life amidst the chaos of what is happening today and the grief that accompanies it. People need to actually develop a sense of virtue through the instruction of those who have actually pursued it in their lives and implement it in their respective spheres of life.

The vision of Dante requires us to pay profound attention to the end of human experience in order to comprehend its value and meaning in pursuit of the truth. I submit to you that this can only be done through what has long been known by human experience as friendship. Something that existed before the term was redefined in 2004 by social media promulgators and tycoons. Before Dante, there was a Roman statesman and philosopher who in many ways had a profound impact on Dante. The man’s name was Marcus Tullius Cicero. Cicero pointed out in his book, On Friendship, that society is held together by the bonds of friendship — friendship, Cicero noted, is not possible without virtue. A modern follow up to this would be that virtue is not possible in on a platform that stirs people’s passions because the discourse is too shortsighted for sustained conversation, or resolution. Virtue is not discarnate, it is deeply human because it requires bodily experience to enrich all of society. Friendship cannot be a reduction of human experience, or it is not friendship, but something far less. I hope that we can pause, learn, interpret, and decide upon how to live, instead of passively accepting an ever and ongoing sense of the present devoid of both respect for the past, or hope for the future.


Foxes and Friendship

“This program is presented as originally created. It may contain outdated cultural depictions.”

This disclaimer appears before most traditional Disney films on the streaming platform Disney Plus. Films such as “Dumbo” and “Peter Pan” are now considered racist because of their outdated stereotypes.

Surprisingly, “The Fox and the Hound” has no such disclaimer.


“The Fox and the Hound” is a bittersweet film about two friends who didn’t know they were supposed to be enemies. Indirectly, the film speaks to unjust prejudice, while at the same time acknowledging racism directly through the character of Big Mama. Tod the fox learns he can’t befriend Copper the pup because Copper is going to become a huntin’ dog. The wise owl, voiced by singer Pearl Bailey, warns Tod in her song “Lack of Education” about his possible elimination.


[Big Mama:] Now, if you’re so foxy and old Chief is so dumb
Then why does that hound get the fox on the run?
‘Cause he’s got the hunter
And the hunter’s got the gun
Ka-blam, elimination!
Lack of education!

If you pal around with that Copper hound
You’ll wind up hangin’ on the wall
Keep you nose to the wind
And you’ll keep your skin
‘Cause you won’t be home
When the hunter comes to call

[Tod:] Oh, Big Mama, I know Copper would never track me down.
Well, Copper, he’s my best friend.

[Big Mama:] Ho ho, your best friend!
Now, Copper’s gonna do what he’s been told.
Suppose he’s chasin’ an old fox in an old fox hole
And along comes the hunter with a buck shot load.

[Boomer:] Ka-ka-blam!
[Big Mama:] Elimination
[Dinky:] Lack of education!
[Big Mama:] You better believe it, Tod!

The truth of the matter is that either Tod or Copper will be shot if their friendship continues.


Tod and Copper do not start out hating or fearing each other, but the world in which they live tells them a fox and a hound cannot be friends. Tod doesn’t want to believe that Copper will ever change, and it’s not till Copper comes back as a full fledged huntin’ dog that he has to “grow up” and accept reality.

Much can be learned about love and friendship from the tale of Tod and Copper. Racism is not natural, it is learned. Children at play do not have the same hang up as adults, unless they are taught. There can be no friendship where love is replaced with hate.

Our society is lacking true friendship because we do not know how to love one another. Ancient philosophers like Plato agree friendship requires a love for the good of the other. It requires a delight in loving the other and outdoing one another in showing honor (Romans 12:10). Problems in friendship do arise when there is not equality of virtue or vices turn up against each other. According to Cicero, friendship is an act of goodwill and must share a common value of virtue, which is a love for truth and beauty.

At the end of the “Fox and the Hound,” it is not romantic love that wins the day or obedience to masters. When Copper is attacked by a bear, Tod leaves his lady fox to save his old friend, even though he risks getting caught by the hunter. Tod could have easily chosen to return to the forest, but his love for Copper never changed, despite their differences. After falling from a log (similar to how they first met), Tod finds himself at the end of a shotgun. Thankfully, Copper steps in between Tod and the hunter just in the knick of time, returning the favor.

“Love” between friends need not be romantic. When these lines are blurred, true love, the selfless sacrificial kind, is lost. A distinction between these two loves must be defined. Lovers see beauty in each other and stand face to face,  but friends stand side by side in pursuit of a common goal — beholding beauty. Love in friendship is a different kind of love than romantic desire. Love in “The Fox in the Hound” is the type of powerful loyal love we see in Christ.


According to John, there is no greater love than laying down one’s life for a friend (John 15;14; 1 John 3:16). In the end, there is no happily ever after for Copper and Tod. They each return to their separate worlds, but their friendship is so strong that it becomes more than a memory and it changes the hard hearts of their masters, mending even the human relationships in the film. Tod is still a fox living in the wild and Copper remains a hound dog living with the hunter, but their childhood friendship is honored. Their love and loyalty passed the test of time. True friendship never dies.

Grace and the Grotesque

“I do not know You God because I am in the way. Please help me to push myself aside . . . Please help me to get down under things and find where You are . . . Please help all the ones I love to be free from their suffering. Please forgive me.” – Flannery O’Connor

This prayer was written by O’Connor when she was not yet twenty-one. With everything going on in the world at the moment, its sentiment speaks volumes to my soul. I’ve felt the need to put myself aside to know how to feel, think and respond to what is going on in our nation. My heart aches from the pain, anger, and evil in our world. When the world seems too big, I often turn to literature. Not just as a place of escape (not escapism, which Tolkien argues is very different), but as an ethical guide and teacher of virtue.

Recently, I’ve been reading Flannery O’Connor, who was an Irish Catholic living in Savannah Georgia during the 1950’s. Her insight and experience is different than mine, yet her fiction describes people we all know and have met before. Her writing is factual, not fantastical. As a Catholic novelist of the Protestant South, O’Connor did not try to sugar coat reality. In her letters, she explains that the church and her faith in no way hinder her creative writing or storytelling abilities, but rather enhance them. As she puts it, “The writer learns, perhaps more quickly than the reader, to be humble in the face of what-is. What-is is all he has to do with; the concrete is his medium; and he will realize eventually that fiction can transcend its limitations only by staying within them” (O’Connor’s essay “The Church and the Fiction Writer”).

O’Connor is an expert of the grotesque, grotesque in the gothic sense, and her stories are frightfully realistic, even comical at some points. In her essay “Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Fiction,” O’Connor explains Southern fiction is always considered “grotesque” by those who are not from the South and is only realistic if and when it is in fact grotesque. After all, fiction starts with human knowledge. The grotesque is often covered with compassion as way to excuse human weakness without judgment. But in the South the whole view of man is still for the most part theological. O’Connor explains Southern writers do a better job writing about freaks because they are still able to recognize them.

While the South is hardly Christ-centered, it is most certainly Christ-haunted. The Southerner who isn’t convinced of it, is very much afraid that he may have been formed in the image and likeness of God . . . it is when the freak can be sensed as a figure for our essential displacement that he attains some depth in literature.

O’Connor’s literature does not mirror society to “lift it up” in thought. Instead of giving a mock damnation or mock innocence, O’Connor suggests writing a Dante, a balance of realism and romance. 

I hate to think that in twenty years Southern writers too may be writing about men in grey flannel suits and may have lost their ability to see that these gentlemen are even greater freaks than what we are writing about now. I hate to think of the day when the Southern writer will satisfy the tired reader.

The grotesque and ugly are supposed to shock us because they are signals as to how things actually are underneath. In her final collection of short stories, O’Connor wrote three stories with extreme religious themes: “Revelation,” “Parker’s Back,” and “Judgment Day.”


At first glance, the ugliness in “Revelation” is found in the rude white trash Mrs. Turpin comes into contact with while waiting in a doctor’s office. Mrs. Turpin is described as a very large woman whose presence makes the waiting room seem small. She is your typical middle class white woman with the “bless your heart” sarcastic manners of Southern politeness. Immediately, Mrs. Turpin judges everyone by the quality of their shoes. She is the type of woman who, when she can’t sleep, asks herself who she would chose to be if she could not be herself. If given the option of being a n*gger or white trash, she prays God would make her African American, but not a “trashy one,” a more clean respectable kind, like “herself but black.” These are the inner thoughts of Mrs. Turpin. 

While waiting for the doctor, Mrs. Turpin talks to the “pleasant woman” in the room who is her equal while trying to ignore the “white trash woman” and the ugly fat girl, Mary Grace, next to her. The whole time the ladies are speaking, the girl glares at Mrs. Turpin with a look that could kill. The women discuss whether the blacks should be sent back to Africa and agree a good disposition is better than being pretty. Just as Mrs. Turpin thinks how grateful she is that she wasn’t made black, a white trash or ugly, the fat girl throws her book at Mrs. Turpin’s face and tries to choke her. As the girl is being sedated by the medical staff, she sneers at Mrs. Turpin, “Go back to hell where you came from, you old warthog.”

Mrs. Turpin lays in bed haunted by the girl’s remark. Mrs. Turpin tells the black help about the incident, but she is only annoyed by their flattery. She then marches to the pig parlor to argue with the hogs. She yells at them, disgusted that she would be likened to such creatures, then she has a vision of saints ascending to heaven. At the top are white trash cleaned up and blacks in white robes. At the bottom are hard-working average people like herself, yet altered so that “even their virtues were being burned away.”

Mrs. Turpin would rather cry, get angry and defensive than admit her attitude is uglier than the people she comes into contact with. She is like a pig with a ring in her snout (Proverbs 11:22). She is like us if we do not repent of our pride. 

Parker’s Back

“Parker’s Back” is a story about false devotion. O.E. Parker is a profane tatted man who marries a religious woman, Sarah Ruth, who has a talent for “sniffing up sin.” Parker never wanted to get married, her of all people, and he is gloomier than ever. To spite his wife, he decides to get anther tattoo, or as she calls them, a “heap of vanities.” She would say, “At the judgement seat of God, Jesus is going to say to you, ‘What you been doing all your life besides have pictures drawn all over you?'” Dissatisfied Parker decides to get a tattoo not even Sarah Ruth would object to — the image of Christ on his back. At first the tattoo artist refuses. “I don’t put tattoos on drunks,” he says, “You’ve fallen off some. You must have been in jail.” “Married,” is Parker’s reply. Regretfully, the artist draws “a flat stern Byzantine Christ with all-demanding eyes” across his whole back. No one can look at it without trembling in fear. When he shows it to Sarah Ruth, she rejects it as idolatrous and Parker is left sobbing by a tree. Parker discovers God even though his wife does not recognize him or the image on his back.

Judgment Day

The final story is a reworking of her earlier story, “Geranium.” In the story, Tanner, an aged white man from Georgia moves in with his daughter in New York, as long as she promises she will burry his body back in GA. When a young African American couple move in next door, Tanner gleefully calls them n*ggers, which is what he called his black friend Coleman back home. His daughter seriously rebukes him.

“All right now you listen to me,” she said. “You keep away from them. Don’t you go over there trying to get friendly with him. They ain’t the same around here and I don’t want any trouble with n*ggers, you hear me? If you have to live next to them, just you mind your business and they’ll mind their business. Live and let live.”

Of course, the old man does not listen. He tries to befriend the New York natives and greets the man as “Preacher” and assumes he is from South Alabama. Tanner’s motives are misinterpreted and the young man slams him against the wall, causing a concussion and stroke. The final blow is when the old man decides to leave the city and return home, but on his way out the door he has another stroke. The angered neighbor finds him at the bottom of the stairs and Tanner mistakes him for his companion Coleman. Instead of helping him up, the black man stuffs the old man’s head and arms between the spokes of the banister where his body remains until his daughter finds him dead. “Bury me here and burn in hell!” was the curse that haunted Tanner’s daughter, so his body was dug up and shipped back to Georgia. While alive, Tanner was stripped of his pride, but his body finds peace.

O’Connor loves to use symbolism in her writing. In all three of these stories, there is conflict socially and spiritually. A conflict of pride and grace. The characters receive revelations from God and by consequence become images of Christ themselves. Mrs. Turpin has a change of heart only once she has her vision. Parker, who’s real name “Obadiah Elihue” represents a biblical contradiction, experiences awakening even though his legalistic wife, who also has a biblical name, rejects him and the Christ on his back. “Judgment Day” is the most potent of all because it leaves the reader wondering if Tanner got what he deserved, since refusing to work for “n*ggers” in GA is what made him decide to move in the first place. He seems innocent but his manners are a mere appearance of friendship in the traditional black-white relationship.

O’Connor uses what is considered grotesque to reveal what is actually grotesque — the heart of sinful man. Manners and appearances only cover the ugly of “what-is.” How someone appears on the outside does not always reflect what is true on the inside. Man judges based upon outward appearance, but God looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). O’Connor understood that man is a fallen creature and was not afraid to be honest about the hypocrisy of humanity. Yet she does not leave out hope. There is hope for every sinner in Christ. Her stories are difficult to digest because they are realistic, almost more realistic than reality itself. But extreme examples can reveal truth and cut through our personal deception of what is actually grotesque. Like a Dante, she exposes our sinful hearts by putting aside appearances and opinions to show us what is actually ugly. To know what is truly good and beautiful, we must “push ourselves aside” and learn what is truly grotesque. 


A Hidden Life and the Coronavirus

As I reflect back on this time of quarantine in preparation for my return to the real world, or as it is now being called, the “new normal”, I remember how it first began. Quietly and unexpected, much like the film A Hidden Life.

Based on a true story, the film is about Austrian farmer Franz Jägerstätter, who faces execution for refusing to fight for the Nazis during World War II. Before watching Malick’s masterpiece, I read a review that described it as a film about religion, not war. Instead of picturing Jewish persecution of the Nazi period, the film asks ethical questions about good and evil, right and wrong, and how much one would suffer for what they believe to be right. A line that stood out to me in the film, since they are few and far between, echoes this assessment. When asked by the prison captain if he is afraid of death, Franz responds, “A man worth anything has only one thing to consider: whether he is acting rightly or wrongly.”

Many of us these days have had to ask ourselves if we feel fear in the face of possible death by coronavirus in this global pandemic. Yet the power behind fear is often fear itself. Fear of death, but also fear of pain. No one wants to suffer, but especially if it goes against what is considered the “right” thing to do. 

Power and control through fear and pain are evident in George Orwell’s 1984. Orwell’s novel is a political commentary of totalitarianism in Nazi Germany, but elements of Big Brother are still seen today. In the story, doublethink is the ability to hold two polarizing views at the same time. Love is hate, war is peace, slavery is freedom. We live in a dualistic society that in many ways cannot agree on how to address this crisis. There can be a sense of camaraderie by saying, “Stay safe!” to your neighbor from a distance, but there are also neighbors calling the police on each other if someone coughs or breaks quarantine. We have forgotten how to love one another because of fear. As a dystopia, 1984 may seem over the top and unrealistic, but it still communicates the danger of totalitarian thought and practice in society today. 

Besides the silent suffering of Franz in A Hidden Life, the steadfastness of his wife, Franziska, is most inspiring. When the local priest and villagers can’t persuade Franz to swear allegiance to Hitler, they pressure his wife to try and convince him to change his conviction or ignore his conscience. Unlike Job’s wife who tells her husband to curse God, Fraziska stands by her man and does not try to dissuade him. Despite the struggle and persecution she faces, Franziska never stops loving or supporting her husband, even when she knows his choices will take him away from her loving arms and leave their children fatherless. Franz’s stance for truth is heroic, but Franziska’s loyalty demonstrates how true love casts out fear. 

In 1984, Winston and Julia go against Big Brother by meeting in secret. In contrast to the previous couple, their “love” is selfish and does not pass the test of suffering. When they are captured by the Thought Police and taken to the Ministry of Love to be tortured, they betray each other and their emotions, even to the point of wishing the other would suffer instead of them. To save their own life of simple comforts, they deny that they ever loved, and in fact they never did. In the end, their love for each other is replaced by a love for Big Brother.

When faced with fear and suffering, who are we more like, Franz and Franziska or Winston and Julia? To whom do we swear and in whom do we trust? Would we choose to stay true to love or run away in fear at the first sign of danger? Do we turn away from the sick and poor, or run to them in aid? 

As Christians, we should be citizens most recognizable by our love, not our fear. Let us be an extension of Christ in a scared and suffering world. If we cannot stand for truth and love, we are no better than Judas the betrayer. But like Peter discovered after his denial, there is freedom in Christ. While in prison, Franz’s captors torture and taunt him by saying his actions do not matter, that the war will still go on without him, and that his resistance will soon be forgotten. All he has to do is sign a piece of paper and he will go free. He’s asked, don’t you want to be free, to which he replies, “I am free already.” 

Franz was not just a man of conviction, he was a man of faith. I pray my faith will outshine my fear in the coming days.


Generation to Generation: On the Importance of Christian Education

In the words of John Gresham Machen, for Christians to rightly influence the
world through the truth of God’s Word, “The great Reformation doctrine of vocation must be recovered.” Machen’s works eloquently describe how Christians are called not only to the positions within the church, but in secular positions all across the world. Machen’s analysis is absolutely correct. As followers of Christ, it is not only a duty but also a privilege to shape the culture into a Godly fashion. Christians ought not be consumers of the culture only, but the fashioners and makers of a society that is glorifying to the triune God. Every field of study and occupation must be filled with Christ-following difference makers that are dedicated to bringing about the will of their Father. This noble calling must be carried out through the efforts of the Christian family along with the Body of Christ, all through the working of the Spirit. One of the most vital and important ways that Christians can shape the culture as God commands is through biblical and theological education. Teaching and raising up a young generation of biblically-minded leaders is essential for Christians if they wish to fulfill their God-given cultural mandate, as can be seen numerous times throughout Scripture, works by great Christian historical thinkers, and from the current state of modern culture and education.

One of the most blatantly obvious — and convincing– reasons Christians ought to be teaching the truths of God’s word to the younger generation is because of the importance the Bible places upon “Biblical education.” In Deuteronomy 6, The LORD commands that the words he has spoken to Israel be taught to their children, and that they be bound on each person’s heart, mind, and hands. Psalm 145:4 also explains that “one generation shall declare your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.” By commanding his chosen people to educate and cultivate His teaching within the younger generation, it is evident that this duty God puts upon parents and teachers is not to be taken lightly. The joy that comes from teaching God’s truths and works from generation to generation can be visibly seen additionally throughout Scripture. In Psalm 78:4, the Psalmist states that, “We will not hide them from their children; but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” This verse further demonstrates the privilege that believers share to joyfully inform their children and students of the wonderful person, statutes, and deeds of God. These verses obviously hold massive importance for the Christian family — parents teaching and raising their children — but also hold major implications for theological education and schooling as well. It is visibly seen through the clear witness
of Scripture that cultivating a generation of leaders through the doctrines and truths of God is necessary within the family, the church, and the school system if Christians are to fulfill their God-given command.

The mandate given to Christians at the creation of the world to, “be fruitful and multiply,” refers to the raising up of countless individual Christian children, generation after generation, until the entire Earth is filled with nothing but Christ’s glory. However, the Fall has deeply corrupted man’s ability to do so apart from the working of the Spirit. Though Christians can no longer complete this mandate perfectly, each one is called by
God to further his kingdom with what they have been given. This mandate is something that the great theological thinker Abraham Kuyper (1837-1920) understood. Kuyper was extremely passionate about this calling and how Christians should react to the command. Kuyper had an excellent grasp upon the fact that the entire world had already been subjected beneath Christ’s rule as he continually reigns at the right hand of the Father. In the words of Kuyper himself during an inaugural address at the opening
of the Free University of Amsterdam in 1880, “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is sovereign over all, does not cry, Mine!” This rightful understanding of the dominion of Christ led him to place an extreme emphasis on shaping the culture by raising biblically and theologically-minded leaders through education. Christians ought to be encouraged in the face of this
daunting task to spread God’s kingdom as Kuyper again says that, “It is impossible, Bible in hand, to limit Christ’s Church to one’s own little community.” The implications of Christ’s ruling and the gospel spreading eventually spill into the everyday life of a Christian. Kuyper again states that whatever a man may do, whether, “in agriculture, in commerce, in industry, art, or in science,” he is employed under the service of God. Christians have been called to do everything to the degree of excellence, and this cannot be done apart from partaking in Biblical training and cultivation by those wiser and more experienced than themselves. It is certain that Christ is reigning and sovereign over the entire universe, and that the promises he has given His church should encourage its members to go forth and multiply in every field and fashion of work, utilizing good, doctrinal education to do so.

One final example of another man who understood the importance of theological education was John Gresham Machen (1881-1937). The author of Christianity and Liberalism comprehended the terrible consequences of having an educational system apart from being rooted in Christian doctrine. He stated that, “ it is difficult to see how even the remnants of liberties can subsist when children are placed underneath schools appointed by the state where the higher aspirations of humanity are crushed out and the mind is filled with the materialism of the day.” Much can be gleaned from Machen’s
teaching, as the current public school system, and as a result, society, is in a rapid decline. Apart from Christ and the teaching of solid doctrine, the culture will continue to erode and fall away. The current state of the public education system demonstrates the need for a higher, more sustaining power that can not be found in man himself, but only in God. Machen describes the solution to this problem in that,“The more we know God,
the more unreservedly we will trust him… the more childlike will be our faith.” God has commanded everyone that the knowledge of his person and works be sought, believed, practiced, and taught to others until Christ returns from his throne. Only when society is fastened and dedicated to the Rock of Ages will it no longer be tossed to and fro. Cultivating and raising solid, biblically-minded leaders in each generation is one of the best ways to infiltrate the culture and to bring changes about in the world for God’s

God commands each of his children to know him on an interpersonal level, to be edified by other believers, and to daily grow to look more like him. This is the true role and purpose of Biblical education. By being continually built up in wisdom, followers of Christ can truly begin to influence and shape the world as God commands. The Christian duty is to be a culture-shaper, not a culture-absorber. Regardless of the field of work, religious or secular, witnesses need to be raised and sent from every nation to illumine the world with the good news of Christ. Theological education is not only important because it benefits the Christian, but because it glorifies the Creator, Savior,
and Redeemer of the world by spreading his kingdom to the ends of the Earth.

Works Cited

De Moor, Henry. “Church/Doctrine.” The Banner, 2017. Accessed 11 Feb. 2019.

Machen, John M. Christianity and Liberalism. New York, Macmillan. 1923.

Kuyper, Abraham. The Work of the Holy Spirit. Grand Rapids, Funk and Wagnalls
Company. 1900.

Student Study Bible, English Standard Version. Crossway, 2011.

PC: Michael Kristenson