I have an article this week published at Christianity Today. Here’s the intro:
“On a recent weekend, my wife and I found ourselves in an odd place—a library. We’re used to public libraries and used bookstores, but this was different: coffered ceilings; rich built-in shelves filled with aging books; a fireplace framed by gargoyles, settees, and armchairs; and the gentle clink of fine china and cocktail glasses.
Ill at ease, I surveyed the formal scene until I spotted something that made me feel right at home: a portrait of a schoolboy lighting a firecracker with his cigar!”
The David Blythe (1815-1865) painting I’m alluding to hangs in the library at the Duquesne Club in Downtown Pittsburgh. It’s basically who I want to be when I grow up:
Don’t you just love the nonchalance? The coolness? Winging his tattered slate and worn books, the boy prepares to toss a little excitement into the thick of things. You’ll see Blythe’s name graffitied on the exterior of his textbook in the bottom right corner. Apparently, this is how the artist saw himself as well.
My review of Louis Markos’s latest book Passing the Torch: An Apology for Classical Christian Education is meant as a bit of a firecracker tossed into the classical movement, hopefully encouraging classical educators in a new direction. Enough apologists. We need more bakers:
Consider an analogy from the realm of baking. I can study famous cookbooks. I can know all the ingredients, understand the logic of combining them this way or that, and memorize the exact internal temperature of a well-baked loaf. I can even study the history of recipes and chefs, learn the science of yeast and gluten structure, and research the best kitchen tools. But if I never put my fists in the dough, I am not a baker.
Cookbooks drive us to cook. Living books drive us to live. Classical circles love analyzing what Markos repeatedly calls the “Great Books,” but when culture is merely studied—even appreciated—it still remains functionally dead. Only when we live within it does it remain an active, burning torch we can pass to the next generation.
Give my piece a read over at Christianity Today, and if you enjoy it, share it with your classically-minded friends.
Speaking of Explosions . . .
My family and I were sitting down for dinner when we heard what sounded like an explosion in the kitchen. We went in to find this:
The front glass of the oven just blew up. Apparently, this is a thing with tempered glass—sometimes it can have a manufacturing defect that causes it to spontaneously combust! In the oven’s defense, I had pushed it to the limit that day: 2 dozen muffins, 3 loaves of sourdough, 3 pies, and 2 pizzas. Maybe it had just had enough?
Anyways, who knew shrapnel could be a hazard of baking? Things just get more and more exciting. Good news is, it’s happened far enough out for us to get the glass replaced before Camp Bakewell in June. We still have slots available for July, so Washington folks let me know if you’d like to sign up your student!
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