The Authority of Scripture (Excerpt from God in the Details, Kendall-Hunt, 2017)

One of the most intriguing books in Christian literature of the past half century is Francis Schaeffer’s classic, He is There, and He is not Silent. God exists, and He has spoken! Integral to the Christian Worldview is the concept that God has communicated absolute propositional truth about Himself, creation, and humanity.  This communication is possible because God created people in His own image, Gen. 1:26 (rational, self-aware, self-active, and moral).

While God has revealed certain general truths about Himself in nature (natural revelation), He has communicated more specific truths via spoken and written words (special revelation). God chose certain men to convey His words and provided attestation to His messengers through miraculous signs (Acts 2:22; Heb. 2:3-4).  We know these men as the Prophets and Apostles (2 Peter 3:2). The prophetic formula was “Thus says the LORD.” The apostolic formula was “Thus says the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 2:13; 1 Tim. 4:1; 1 Peter 1:12; Rev. 3:22). The messages of both Prophet and Apostle, in both spoken and written form, were identified as the very Word of God, and the miraculous signs attested to this bold yet genuine claim. 

Uniquely embedded in God’s special revelation about Himself, creation, and mankind is revelation about this special revelation itself. In 2 Tim. 3:16, we read that “All Scripture is God-breathed.” In 1 Peter 1:21, we read that “No prophecy was of private interpretation, but men spoke as they were moved by the Holy Spirit.”  In 2 Peter 3:15-16, we find that Paul’s writings were considered “Scripture.” These passages teach that all of the prophetic and apostolic writings were ultimately of divine origin. While God spoke through men and utilized their intellects and unique personalities, at the same time, He also ensured that what His messengers spoke and wrote was exactly and precisely what He wanted to be communicated—extending even to the very words (Matt. 22:31-32; Mark 12:35-37; Gal. 3:16). Theologians refer to this divine superintendence as the “Inspiration of Scripture.” Because Scripture is verbally (every word) and plenary (every portion) inspired, it is infallible (cannot err) and is therefore inerrant (does not err).

The Inspiration of Scripture is foundational to the Authority of Scripture. If God (infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in His being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth) has indeed addressed a particular subject, then it follows that such information must be considered ultimate, final, and absolute. In Scripture, God addresses morality, sin, salvation, and eternal life. But He also addresses science and history.  Whenever God speaks, the result is ultimate, final, and absolute truth. The authority of Scripture has as its very basis the authority of God Himself. Put simply, “What God says, goes!”

Obviously, many books claim to be authoritative revelation from God. What makes the Bible so different? Many things! The Bible was written over a period of about 1500 years by almost forty different authors, yet has one central overarching theme: the redemption of sinners through the person and work of Jesus Christ. The Bible contains hundreds of predictive prophecies (there are over 300 Messianic prophecies alone), which are fulfilled in minute detail hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of years from the original prophecy.  The multiple typologies presented in the Old Testament all find their complete fulfillment thousands of years later in the person and work of Jesus Christ. The public (and therefore indisputable) miracles performed by the prophets and apostles as God’s messengers attest to the divine origin of their message.  Jesus, as the Great Prophet, taught that the writings of the Old Testament were divine in origin (Matt. 5:17-18; John 10:35) and His resurrection attests to the truth of this teaching. This same resurrected Jesus promised that His commissioned Apostles would be directed and taught by the Holy Spirit (John 14:26; 16:13-15). Lastly, the martyrdom of the Apostles is a strong testimony to the integrity and authenticity of their writings as God’s messengers.

God has not left us in the dark as to which book He has authored.  Indeed, its authority stems from its Author.

John H. McDonald, B.A., M.A., Th.D. currently serves as the Director of The North American               Reformed Seminary in Sumter, SC and previously taught Biblical and Worldview Studies                                         at Chamberlain-Hunt Military Academy in Port Gibson, MS.

Welcome to the Beginning of History!

The true and living God welcomes you back to the beginning of history—His story. In using the word, story, it must be emphasized that Genesis is not a fictional story. Genesis is the book of ‘firsts’—initiating all patterns of human existence and beginning all major biblical doctrines. The opening book of the Bible begins God’s story from the point of view of the One and Only Eyewitness of the creation scene to His prophet Moses. His purpose for creation, revealed to humanity, begins a personal challenge, open to us, that has been there from the first week. Jesus is there too—thematically known as the scarlet thread of redemption and as deity at the very first word.

The Genesis narrative seen as wisdom has always held its place of value and esteem among those seeking understanding of the foundational issues of the heart and life. Further, it has been said, “Everything in the Bible starts with Genesis and is climaxed in Revelation.” To appreciate the climax of God’s story, it is quintessential to know how His story of creation begins and unfolds. What is God Like? How do people interact with God?  What is the essence of Love? These answers and many more begin to take shape in Genesis.

God uses creation to communicate God’s eternal attributes of God’s necessary existence to us as contingent beings to express love to every person who would make objective truth make sense to oneself subjectively. A whole human in the process of becoming all God intends is thus personally challenged to reconcile faith with reason. For twenty-first century truth seekers, this is poignant because faith and reason have been assaulted for centuries, to the point today that both are almost obliterated. Bumper sticker philosophy is one instance of foundational truth mocked and trivialized. On faith, it has been said: “Everyone believes in something—I believe I’ll have another beer.” Added to aphorisms like this are other words looped in a circle—e.g., “circular reasoning works because . . .”  

The unfolding revelation of God’s will and God’s creation represents the ongoing challenge to purposefully reconcile one’s faith and reason to forge a unified truth in one’s life. Twentieth Century scientific discoveries show the universe begins at a point in time. Stephen C. Meyer has scientifically re-established the rationality of traditional Judeo-Christian Theism. “Not only does Theism solve a lot of philosophical problems, but empirical evidence from the natural world points powerfully to the reality of a great mind behind the Universe. Our beautiful, expanding, and finely tuned Universe and the exquisite, integrated, and informationally complexity of living organisms bear witness to the reality of a transcendent intelligence—a personal God.” Genesis shows us that men and women knew this personal God. Enoch walked with God (Gen 5:24) and so can you.

Thoughtful interaction with these archetypal lessons from real lives lived with God, leads one to learn more of God’s availability and how one may further enter into a relationship with God. The interaction between God and the individual develops wisdom in their personal walk with God. This forms a basis for future God encounters as far as and as deep as finite beings would go with the Infinite.

Biblical principles do not change, but they do re-apply anew as each generation lives, moves, and has its being. Therefore, as the social sciences observe and analyze the human workings and dynamics of the interpersonal relationships, they have their place in support of His work. Yet, those sciences are only the physical manifestations (which are passing away) of what is actually a spiritual work (everlasting). That spiritual dynamic is Worship—far more than singing— it is living before and in relation with God. The foundation of worship is a relationship with God and a worthy pursuit of worship studies begins in Genesis.

God initiated worship with Adam and Eve by simply creating male and female in His image. Communion began there in the garden. God further clarified worship by making the first blood sacrifice for the first sin. From there, Adam orally communicates and exemplifies God’s plan in his family. Eventually Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all build altars to worship God. Worship maintains the vibrant distinctions; temporal/eternal, necessary/contingent being, potential/actual, male/female, holy/common and so on.

While these may seem inconvenient or narrow-minded for those who would destroy all binary distinctions, there are distinctions and differences that do exist. “While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Cor 4:18). The facts, concepts and truth gained from this book serve us as we seek the ultimate source and discover why worship is our most appropriate response.

Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Joseph walk with God and are examples of getting it right despite human fallibility. In Cain and Esau, readers see those who attempt a walk from God and yet His amazing grace extends to them even in judgment. Then, there is the beloved Jacob/Israel who walks both sides of the line at times conniving, then being connived, seeing the face of God, and wrestling with God and yet the overall arc of his life in God’s hands accomplishes all that God intends. God still accomplishes His intentions in these “last days” (Acts 2:17).

The modernists flimflammed themselves believing the primacy of objective, rational thought to the exclusion (or at least the subjugation) of subjective truth. This bifurcation of thought was desirable in their view because they wanted to be free from God’s authority and establish their own authority. In response the intellectual pendulum swung too far the other way to post-modern’s preposterous reactions contained in self-refuting propositions such as, “All truth is subjective.” and “Your truth is not necessarily my truth.” In Genesis 42:16, Joseph shows us that truth is simply telling it like it is when he says, “In this way your words may be tested to see if you are telling the truth.”

Here (and on the near horizon) is meta-modern thought that incorrectly assumes truth is variable and is found through constantly vacillating between subjective and objective without discrimination. This can serve no purpose but to destroy the very imago dei necessary of human experience. No one discovers truth, especially eternal truth, in order to abandon it. Each of us discovers our purposeful, meaningful being within God’s everlasting story through reason and faith reconciled and in conjunction.

As Jacob encountering God directly through experience leaves an imprint on his soul, being forever changed, experiencing God from the pages of Scripture also creates an indelible impression. This encounter of experiencing God awaits you. I pray for your lifelong journey through the Scriptures and that God’s grand meta-narrative opens the relational gateway of your heart and your head to the true and living God. Jump in here with reason and faith awakened to the communion that awaits. He is near at hand, and He is coming soon. Be prepared to be forever changed as you become all that Our Creator intends for you. May God bless your journey into and through His story becoming yours.

David L. Ream, PhD

Director, School of Worship

Calvary Chapel School of Discipleship

Author, Hippie Voices to God’s Heart: Calvary Chapel Encounters God     (Wipf & Stock, 2024)

The Structure of the Creation Account (Excerpt from God in the Details, Kendall-Hunt, 2017)

The Creation story can be divided into two parts. The first three days details the creation of the Cosmos. The last three days details the creation of the earth’s residents—vegetable and animal.  Not surprisingly (and not contradictory), there are two creation stories that complement each other.  Genesis 1 presents a detailed daily description of the whole process whereas Genesis 2 is more about the sixth day.

A good way to understand this literary device is to consider the oral tradition through which the story might have been first offered. It is evening. The storyteller and listeners sit by the evening campfire. Bellies are full of food. People are ready to either be entertained or to go to sleep. The raconteur would first capture the attention of his listeners with a grand, dramatic extravagant proclamation that excited their souls and minds and comforted their weary, anxious souls.

Later on, he would move into the details to educate them about the purposes of God versus the plans of humanity. The overall effect was a captivating story that informed them of three great ideas: God is the sole creator to whom they own their existence, humans are not the center of the universe and have a secondary role to God, and that man and woman were there to take care of each other in the beginning of history and still need each other in the present.

Sometimes readers forget that the people in the Bible are really just that—human beings with similar needs and wants universal to all cultures and people. In fact, the name, Adam, means “earth-creature,” which surely all humanity can identify with, personally. Formed from the earth, he was given the job of naming the animals. Some people claim that he was the first zookeeper, but he was more like the first biologist, categorizing what he saw around him. More importantly, the scripture says that he was created in God’s image—an amazingly significant reason why people all over the world since time immemorial have sought after and connected with God. Moreover, according to the Bible, humans are naturally drawn to Him from whom they came and without Him, they are incomplete.

Along that same line, Adam grew lonely being the only human on earth and so God created a helper for him—because Adam needed assistance—from his  own rib (or side). Some have suggested subservience for Eve as she was created after Adam, but if that is true then the plants would be superior to Adam as they were created first and, according to Scripture, he dominated over the natural world. The Hebrew term for helper in fact is the same term used to describe the Spirit of God in the Old Testament so this was not a master-slave relationship although God did let Adam name her, “Eve”—and the two paradoxically were separate and one flesh at the same time. This first male-female relationship before the Fall must have been truly refreshing and, no doubt, God was pleased at the union of souls and hearts in His two children. 

Unfortunately for all humanity, not being perfect as their maker, Adam and Eve eventually succumbed to their human passions of power and control and ruined their perfect paradise by doing the one thing forbidden by God (and for good reason)—eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. God warned them that they would die if they partook of its offerings. This was not a fuzzy notion although one could speculate that they did not understand what death was at this point in human existence. Still, God said, “No,” and that should have been sufficient.

It is easy to point fingers at Eve and say that she is ultimately to blame for the Fall, but Scripture is clear when it states that she was deceived through the craftiness of the serpent who said, “You will not certainly die” (v. 3:4). The deceived is not the evil one—it is the deceiver who is punished. Furthermore, Adam was not misled; he volitionally chose to follow Eve in her illicit action. As Ramé wrote, “I do not wish to be a coward like the father of mankind, and throw the blame upon a woman, but it is certain that the old answer is often still the true one, ‘The woman tempted me.’ I am not wholly innocent; I played with fire, and was surprised, like an idiot, when it burnt me.”

Ultimately, all three are to blame for this mess. All three rebelled against God’s will, all three wanted to be like God, and all three would suffer immediate and eternal consequences. The serpent becomes the lowest form of life, the woman will endure painful childbearing and domination by men, and Adam will have to work the land, and they both will eventually die. They wanted to be their own god, so God will allow them to reap the benefits of a human “deity,” which is no deity at all as they would soon discover.

Despite this sorrowful new condition, God’s consequences carry with them reward, too. If Eve brought death into this world through the fruit, she now brings life back to the world through childbearing. If Adam lost the paradise of Eden, he can do his best to bring it back through toiling, weeding, and cultivation. Even in failure, God makes a way for goodness and hope to exist.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Unitas

Samuel looked out his port window into the endless cosmos speckled with innumerable stars. His small quarters were dark; he had turned out his lights to take in the scene outside the interstellar cruiser, the Hawkings. Despite the distance between him and the fiery orbs, he could still make out their intense colors, painting their ages in shades of red, white, green, and blue. And even though he was months out in their journey, it still took his breath away, making him feel inconsequential in the vast, immortal universe.

They had such an important mission—the most important one ever—but had so far to go before reaching their final, permanent destination. The ship was headed to a newly discovered habitable planet—an oasis outside their dying solar system—where they would establish a new and unique civilization, leaving behind the suicidal practices of the old world.

Planet Unitas would be the new Eden, if you will. Of course, this time, humanity’s story would start without the nonsense of religious superstition. There was quite enough of that back home, thank you. The Muslim-Christian War of 2050 had decimated the planet, especially after Iran had released their weapons of nuclear destruction on Israel and England. America and France retaliated immediately, of course, and the Earth finally came to know the total annihilation of nuclear war.

It wasn't so much how many people died (especially since there were too many dead to count and no one to count them if they could); it was the lingering presence of radioactive, decaying disease that would never go away. How could they clean up and rebuild when even the cockroaches were dying? Therefore, when the clandestine international scientists came together to discuss escape from the faithful-yet-murderous, all agreed that this voyage would only take atheists to Unitas.

The divinely delusional could stay behind to reap their “rewards,” those ignorant bastards. The team of scientists would live a life free of fantasy, bigotry, and violence. This was the first international exercise of tolerance and friendship. No Americans, Chinese, Indians, or Kenyans on this voyage. No Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, or Pagans, either—just clear-headed scientists with the will to survive, and the rationality to make it work out right this time. 

They had gathered up one hundred of the finest young academic minds left in the world, from every country that was still in existence after the war. Everyone had a PhD in the Science or the Arts, although they made sure to not take any historians trained at a religious university—only secular schools and secular students were recruited. A careful screening process had weeded out the subversive and devious spiritually minded who hoped to sneak aboard the Hawkings. Brilliant minds and well-built bodies were the minimum requirement for this mission.

With great foresight, Samuel believed, they also made sure that they had more women than men. If some (or all) of the men died, the women could still use artificial insemination to become pregnant, but if all the women died, the mission was over. Coupling was encouraged and not required; the men and women were required to take daily contraceptives to prevent unwanted pregnancies on the journey over, but it was assumed that once they made it to Unitas that the baby-making would commence.

Samuel enjoyed the sexual freedom and involvement that he and his girlfriend, Kendall, shared. It was nice to feel loved and wanted and touched; however, they had both agreed in the beginning of the voyage that they were not married; they could end their relationship anytime if it wasn't working out. This was the life, Samuel mused. He had a purpose, he had comforts, and he had a companion. Some 50,000 light years from Earth, and he had never felt so happy and contented. He thought (or at least hoped) that Kendall felt the same way.

He breathed in the air of freedom and exhaled out peacefulness. They had escaped Armageddon, and he felt like an inter-terrestrial god on a pleasure cruise through the Carina Nebula. He took a sip of his white chocolate mint tea and smiled, smugly, as he looked out toward their celestial destination.

His serenity burned away in an instant when the stars around them flashed hotter than they had in thirteen billion years.  He shielded his eyes, but the intensity of the blazing light bored through his hand into his skull. Dropping the teacup to the floor, he screamed out, “Jesus! Jesus! Stop!” and one millisecond later, the stars went black.

Through tears of pain, Samuel stumbled to his window and looked out, seeing nothing—no stars, no lights, just emptiness. “What the hell?” he cried out, his mind swirling with questions. First, he thought he’d gone blind, but looking around, he could see inside the room, clearly. Outside, though, there was only blackness and void.

Every thought was swept aside when an archaic scripture that his crazy grandmother forced him to memorize as a boy just popped into his brain. His throat grew tight as he recollected the passage. How did it go? “The sun turned black like sackcloth . . . the stars in the sky fell to earth . . . and the heavens receded like a scroll.”

He sunk to his knees, feeling the broken teacup pieces dig into his flesh, and groaned, “Oh my God. Where did they all go?” He slumped to the floor, knowing that without the stars—those heavenly lights—they had lost their way and had no place to hide anymore.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Excerpt of Treasures in Time (Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025):

“They’ll be back, in force,” Alexandru confessed, still watching the soldiers ride away. “Romans never retreat. They only plow forward.”

Madalina wiggled under his arm and said, “Should we be afraid?”

Alexandru hugged her lovingly. “Not yet, but I need to meet with good King Decebalus tomorrow and debrief him. Rome is sending in the First Legion.”

“The First Legion . . . When?” Madalina asked. “Soon?”

“Soon enough, too soon, so all Dacia needs to be prepared. I hope Boian and Vlad are up for it. The first Legion is titanic.”

“Why can’t Rome just leave us alone? What do we have that they want? Why does the general hate us so?” she lamented.

Alexandru stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and said, “It’s not Fuscus; he’s just faithfully following orders. It is Emperor Trajan. The man is insane with avarice. His soul and his belly are bottomless. Never full, he must devour all.”

“Then, what can we do, Alexandru?” she asked, burying her face in his chest.

“Pray and fight for our lives against the darkness. We’ve not many other choices, love.”

Alexandru felt her shiver and pulled her close, closing his eyes and trying to forget, just for a moment, about the storm rushing to collide with them, unavoidably.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

The Monk, the Maiden, and the Boudoir (2025)

As Job Kotik walked through the dimly lit hallway, he noticed his new next-door neighbor, a pretty blonde, standing at her door, struggling with her keys. The hallway was quiet except for the faint jingle of metal as she fumbled with the lock.

Job decided to dare to be polite and approached her, offering help. “No thanks,” she replied. She avoided eye contact, her tone clipped but not hostile. She paused before she added, almost as an afterthought, "You should mind your own business."

Challenged by her abject rejection (and shaming), he retorted, “I agree but the jingling of your keys is traumatizing my ferns. I live next door. Name's Job. I'm a monk who's taken a vow of boredom. You're safe with me, if you’re worried.

The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "A monk, huh? And here I thought I was the only one trying to escape the world."

She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a faint smile playing on her lips. There was a brief moment of vulnerability in her expression before she quickly masked it with a more guarded look.

"But safe?" Jessica chuckled humorlessly, glancing back at the scuffed and dingy apartment door, as if reminded of something unpleasant. "Safe is a relative term, isn’t it?"

Job stepped closer. “Want me to turn on the lights? If there's a burglar in there, I'll get shot first, leaving you extra time to run away.”

Jessica tilted her head, considering Job’s absurd offer, a flicker of amusement crossing her face.

"Always the gentleman, aren’t you, Job?"

She pushed herself off the doorframe, her expression turning serious. "But I wouldn’t want you getting hurt on my account. Besides, burglars aren’t usually my problem."

Job moved even closer, taking her keys and unlocking the door. He handed back her keys and opened the door, with a voilà and a genteel bow of his head.

Jessica nodded, too, and said, “Merci, monsieur.”

Smiling, Job replied, “Okay, okay. I'll have a cup of coffee, if you insist. But I'm only staying for 20 minutes and then I'm kicking my butt right out of here.

Jessica raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small smile. "I don’t recall inviting you in, Job. But I suppose it would be nice to have some company. For a little while."

She stepped aside, allowing him entrance with a subtle gesture. "Twenty minutes, though. I have things to attend to. And don't think about ‘kicking your butt out of here’—the door is always open for friends."

Job stepped inside and took in the scene. Playfully, he remarked, “Wow! You've got furniture? Outstanding. I just have the fern and my boring books. Thanks for your gracious hospitality. Your name is Petunia, right?”

Jessica's smile widened, a look of awareness dancing in her eyes.

"No, Job, it’s not “Petunia; it’s Jessica. And yes, I do have furniture. You'd be surprised what can fit into an apartment.”

She gestured for him to follow her, leading him into the dimly lit living room. Job sat on a large, comfortable couch. Jessica went and brought him a cup of decent coffee from the kitchen. Blues music played from unseen speakers.

Handing the cup to him, she remarked, "And you're welcome to stay as long as you like—within reason, of course."

As she spoke, the soft music from earlier grew louder, filling the air with a melancholic melody. Job looked up, as if he could see the music hanging in the air, remarking.

“Nice tunes. As a monk, I listen mainly to medieval stuff. What do you like, music-wise?”

Jessica's eyes softened, her gaze drifting towards the piano in the corner of the room. "I used to play . . . before." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I liked Chopin and Debussy. The melancholy and beauty of their music resonated with me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if revealing something she had kept hidden for a long time. "But I haven't played in ages."

The music faded into the background as Jessica's attention returned to Job, her expression guarded once more. Sensing her unease, Job chimed in, “I love Chopin—the best sleeping music. Strangely, Debussy just makes me feel randy (not that I’m complaining). Why did you stop playing the piano, if I may inquire?”

"Sleeping music, huh? I never thought of it that way,” Jessica responded, a faint smile gracing her lips. Her eyes flicked momentarily towards the piano in the corner, a shadow passing over her face.

"As for why I stopped . . . it’s complicated. Let’s just say things changed, and I didn’t have the luxury of pursuing my passions anymore." She turned away slightly, as if dismissing the subject, but a hint of sadness lingered in her voice.

Job offered, “Ah, necessity, the mother of distractions (or father), if applicable. I took piano lessons as a boy, but didn’t progress very far. I’d rather be outside catching frogs in the creek.”

"Well, Mr. Monk, perhaps you can show me a thing or two about piano playing," Jessica said, a playful glint in her eyes, as she turned towards the piano. "But fair warning, I might be a tough student," She added, her fingers lightly brushing the keys, as if teasing Job.

Job shrugged and responded, “I know Fur Elise and the Moonlight Sonata. Beethoven was amazing. I admired his skill and resilience to carry on despite going deaf. He still had the gift, though.”

Jessica lightly brushed her fingertips against the piano keys. "Ah, Beethoven. A classic choice. His deafness only seemed to deepen his genius, didn’t it?" Jessica said, her gaze drifting towards the window, lost in thought. She continued, "It’s funny you mention resilience. Sometimes, I think we all have to become deaf to something in order to keep going.” Jessica turned back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips, as if sharing a sad private joke only she understood.

Job sensed that Jessica had been traumatized, and he sympathized. Job offered, “Hemingway said that in adulthood we learn to keep going, to stand up again, to take chance after chance even although we will still likely fail.”

"Hemingway, huh? He had a way with words, didn’t he? Making pain sound almost poetic." Jessica offered Job a wry smile, though her eyes reflected a deeper pensiveness. "But life isn’t a novel, is it? It’s just a series of choices, standing up or falling down. And sometimes, you stay down for a while."

Clearly, Job thought, Jessica desperately needed someone to hear her pain. He thought about dashing out and away from this troubled woman, but when she walked towards the window, her silhouette was framed against the night sky, and she looked captivating.

“So, what choices brought you here, Jessica?” He asked, seeking to learn more about her.

"I suppose that’s what we’re all trying to figure out, isn’t it, Job? The choices that led us to where we are." Jessica paused, a shadow crossing her face, as she leaned against the window frame, her gaze lost in the city lights. "Some were mine, some were made for me. Some were forced upon me."

She turned back to Job, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips, as if inviting him to delve deeper into her world—or perhaps warning him to stay away. Perhaps she intimidated other men, but philosophizing was more like a game to Job. Time to test her depths, he thought.

“Have you ever read Marcus Aurelius?” he asked.

Jessica considered Job for a moment, noting something unreadable in her eyes. “Marcus Aurelius . . . now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. He believed in duty, virtue . . . things that seem almost quaint these days." She turned to look out the window, her voice softening slightly as she continued, "But maybe there’s something to be said for finding your own path, even if it’s not the one you planned."

Ah, Job thought, she’s been derailed in life; he knew how that felt. Job spoke, “Aurelius also said the one thing you can control is how you respond to an offense or a tragedy. We give power to what we give power to. It's all in the mind, really.

Jessica put on her droll smile again, and said, “Stoicism: a philosophy for enduring the unendurable." Jessica mused, her gaze drifting towards the window, as if reflecting on her own trials. "But sometimes, even the strongest minds need a little . . .  lubrication."

Job echoed her final word, but slower. “Lub-ree-caa-tion.”

She turned back to Job, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "Care for something stronger than coffee? I think I have some wine."

Job set down the coffee cup on a frou-frou coffee table in front of the couch and proclaimed, “Life is rosier at the bottom of a wine glass! I would love some, O gracious host.”

"Rosier, huh? I like your optimism, Job," she replied.

Jessica turned and walked towards a small bar area, her hips slightly swaying as she moved. Job couldn’t help but notice. He wondered if her swing was just by nature or by choice.

"Red or white? Or something a little . . . stronger?" she asked.

She raised a glass, a playful grin on her face as she awaited Job’s answer, her fingers toying with a bottle of something amber-colored and potent-looking.

Job deferred to Jessica. “Which do you prefer to aid in your Lub-ree-caa-tion?”

"Well, Mr. Monk, it depends on the ailment,” she replied.

Jessica arched an eyebrow playfully, her fingers tracing the label of the amber bottle. She seemed to be enjoying this little game.

"The red is a robust Cabernet Sauvignon, good for . . . contemplation."

She gestured with the bottle towards the window, as if inviting Job to ponder the mysteries of the night.

"The white is a crisp Sauvignon Blanc, perfect for . . . forgetting.”

Jessica offered a sly smile, her gaze lingering on Job's face as she spoke. “The amber liquid, however, remains a mystery, its secrets waiting to be unveiled.”

“I like mystery and release; I'll drink the amber brew.”

Jessica confessed, “Ah, a man of adventure and spontaneity. I like that.”

Jessica set the bottle down on the bar, her eyes never leaving Job's face as she poured two glasses. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, releasing a rich aroma that filled the room. She handed one to Job, her fingers brushing against his as they made contact.

“To mystery and release, then,” Job said, raising his glass.

Jessica raised her own glass, her eyes locking onto Job's, a hint of mayhem sparkling within their depths. “Cheers, Mr. Monk.”

Job replied, “Cheers, Miss Jessica. Long life and love for you,” he said, taking a sip. It burned a bit but oh, it was sweet and numbing, like ambrosia.

Jessica took a sip of the amber liquid, her eyes never leaving Job. “It does have a certain . . . kick, doesn’t it? Warms you from the inside out.” She leaned back against the bar, swirling the remaining liquid in her glass, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“So, Mr. Monk, now that we’ve lubricated our minds . . . what shall we contemplate?”

Job smiled and said, “Lets play a game: we each can ask each other three questions, which must been answered honestly and fully. Nothing is taboo. A shot after each question.”

Jessica nods in agreement. “A game of truth and shots? I like the way you think, Mr. Monk.” She set her glass down on the bar, a sly smile spreading across her face.

“But let’s make it more . . . interesting. Winner gets to ask one final question of her choice, with no limits or restrictions. Loser has to reveal a secret of his.” She raised an eyebrow, challenging Job with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You game?” She dared him.

Job boldly replied, “Let the hunt begin! You start the game. We will alternate between questions, oui?”

Jessica grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. "Peut-être, Mr. Monk. A most excellent suggestion.” She leaned back against the bar, crossing her arms, her gaze fixed on Job, considering her first question.

"Alright, lets start with something simple. Tell me, Mr. Monk, what is the most audacious thing you’ve ever done, and don’t hold back.”

Without blinking, Job confessed, “I once made love to a woman in a public bathroom while a choir sang the Hallelujah chorus in the room above.”

“Oh, my,” Jessica said, her eyes widening slightly in feigned surprise. She leans forward, her gaze intense as she studied Job’s face, a playful smirk dancing on her lips

“A choir, you say? In a public bathroom? Mr. Monk, you certainly know how to orchestrate a memorable experience.”

Jessica reached for the amber bottle, pouring another generous shot for each of them, the clinking of the glass momentarily breaking the intensity of her stare. She slid one towards Job, her fingers lingering on the glass before pulling back.

“But I must ask . . . was the Hallelujah chorus a request, or merely a serendipitous accompaniment to your . . . performance?”

Job chuckled and replied, “It was unexpected but fortuitous regarding the opportunity.”

“Unexpected and fortuitous, huh? I like the sound of that, Mr. Monk.” Jessica chuckled, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she swirled the amber liquid in her glass.

“So, are you ready to continue this game of ours? I trust you’re prepared to answer my questions with the same . . . enthusiasm you showed in that public bathroom?” She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face, challenging Job to match her boldness

“I will plow forth if called upon, my dear. My question to you, Jessica: when was your last love affair and what ended it?”

Jessica's expression turned serious for a moment, a hint of sadness in her eyes before she took a sip of the amber liquid to compose herself.

“Ah, love affairs,” she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of longing and regret. “My last love affair . . . it was a complicated thing, Mr. Monk.” She paused, collecting her thoughts before continuing.

"It ended . . . when I realized I wasn't good enough for him.” Jessica's voice cracked slightly as she said the words, but she quickly regained her composure, her eyes flashing with determination.

"But that's not the whole story. He was abusive, Mr. Monk. Violent, even.” Her gaze drifted away from Job, lost in the memories of a painful past.

"I had to leave him before he could do any more damage.”

“How dreadful,” Job replied. “That deserves a shot of an amber healing balm. Bottoms up—together!”

“Dreadful indeed,” Jessica murmured, a shadow passing over her face. She seemed genuinely touched by Job’s sympathy. “A healing balm, you say? Perhaps you’re right, Mr. Monk. Perhaps we both need a bit of that tonight.” Jessica picked up her glass, her fingers brushing against Job’s as she raised it. “To healing, then. And to . . . whatever comes next.”

Job downed the shot, his faced numbed instantly, and said, “Next question, m’lady!”

“Another one down? You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you, Mr. Monk?”

Jessica watched Job carefully, a playful glint in her eyes. She is intrigued by how well he is keeping up, and by the audacity of his last tale. “Alright, alright.” She continued. “It’s my turn, then.”

Jessica tapped her finger against her glass, considering. The amber liquid swirled within, catching the dim light of the room. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intense.

“Tell me, Mr. Monk . . . What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done for love?”

Job thought for a moment and replied, “I faced three thugs who had soiled my relationship with my lover through their adultery. I eventually figured out that we were all pawns in her sick game and left.”

“Goodness, Job,” Jessica said softly, her voice laced with heartfelt empathy. She leaned in slightly, her green eyes meeting Job’s with an intensity that seemed to search his very soul. The playful mask she often wore had momentarily dropped, replaced by a sincere concern.

“That sounds . . . excruciating. I must say, you are more complex than you appear, Mr. Monk.”

She pulled back, her playful demeanor returning like a practiced dance. Jessica grabbed the amber bottle and poured another generous shot, sliding it across the bar to Job with a wink.

“But enough about past betrayals. The game must go on, oui? Now, where were we? Ah, yes, my turn.” Jessica licked her lips, considering. She trailed a finger along the rim of her glass, lost in thought for a moment, before locking eyes with Job once more.

Job drank his shot, and staring into Jessica’s captivating green eyes, asked, “What is your last question, oh beautiful maiden?”

“Alright, then, let’s not keep you in suspense. My final question for you, Mr. Monk . . . If you could rewrite the ending of your life, what would be the last note in your symphony?”

Without blinking, Job confessed, “To make love to a jaded ex-pianist in need of passion and tenderness, to help her move on to a more joyous path in life.”

Jessica’s eyes seemed to glaze over, her expression becoming distant as she absorbed Job’s words. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment of profound intimacy. After a long pause, Jessica spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ah, Mr. Monk, you have no idea how much I need that right now.”

Inspired by Ray Charles’ song, Ruby, playing in the background, Job walked over to Jessica, held out his hand, and asked, “When was the last time you danced? There’s a lovely tune playing now. Shame not to join in.”

Jessica's eyes met Job's, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. She looked down at his extended hand, then back up at him, her gaze lingering for a moment before she placed her own hand in his. The touch sent a spark through both of them, and they stood there, frozen, as the music swirled around.

“I . . . I haven't danced in years,” Jessica said softly, her voice barely audible over the music. “But I think it's about time I did.”

With that, she let Job lead her to the center of the room, where they began to sway together, their movements fluid and effortless as if they'd been dancing together for years. The music enveloped them, a soothing balm for their troubled souls.

As they circled around the room, Job paused for a moment and whispered, “I have a confession: I’m a horrible monk. I love romance too much. An incurable addict.” Jessica’s eyes widened slightly, her surprise evident.

“Oh, my. A monk with a taste for romance? How . . . delightfully contradictory,” she murmured with an impish smirk. She tilted her head, studying him as they continued to dance.

“I must say, Job, you certainly know how to keep things interesting.”

Job boldly asked, “Shall we move this dance to your boudoir?”

Jessica considered Job’s suggestion, her green eyes searching his, trying to discern his true intentions.

“My boudoir, Mr. Monk? Such forwardness,” Jessica said, a playful smile playing on her lips. “Tell me, Job, what makes you think I’d invite you into such a private space? What is it you’re really after?”

Pulling her close, Job kissed her deeply and asked, “The real question is what do you want, Jessica?”

Jessica leaned into the kiss, reciprocating with surprising intensity. Her fingers traced the back of Job’s neck, pulling him closer as if to deepen the connection. But then, just as suddenly, she pulled away, leaving Job slightly breathless and disoriented.

“What I want, Mr. Monk?” Jessica’s green eyes searched Job’s, a telegraphing smile gracing her lips, but a hint of something more serious lurking beneath the surface. "Perhaps the better question is . . . what are you willing to give me?”

Job stared deeply and sweetly into her eyes, and said, “Only my body and my soul, Mademoiselle. That’s all.

Jessica’s eyes flashed with surprise, then slowly softened as she gazed at Job. Her hand reached up to gently trace the curve of his jawline, her touch sending shivers down his spine.

“Ah, Mr. Monk . . . you are a poet, indeed,” she whispered, her voice husky and inviting. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Job’s ear. “Let us seal our bargain with a kiss.”

Job kissed her and was surprised—but not disappointed—by the intensity of her affection. He felt his toes curl and his manhood stiffen.

Jessica's tongue danced around Job's, her movements fluid and confident as she explored the depths of his mouth. She tasted him, savoring the sweetness of his lips, and he couldn't help but respond in kind. Their kiss lingered, their breaths mingling as they lost themselves in the moment.

“Mmmm. . . . You taste like a fine wine, Mr. Monk,” Jessica purred, her voice husky with desire. She pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with delight. “And I do believe it's time we took our dance to a more private setting.”

“Lead me to heaven, Bathsheba,” Job implored.

Jessica’s eyes widen slightly at Job’s words, a surprised look crossing her face. “Heaven, Mr. Monk?” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper as she stepped closer, her fingers tracing a delicate pattern on his chest.

The playful smirk returned to her lips, though her eyes betrayed a hint of vulnerability. “I’m afraid my version of paradise might be a bit . . . sinful . . . for a monk.” She paused, her gaze locked with Job’s, her expression turning serious. “But if you’re willing to risk earthly damnation, Mr. Monk . . . by all means, show me the way.”

Job took her firmly by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Once inside, he slowly slid the straps of her dress down, kissing her neck and shoulders. “Door open or closed?" he asked. Jessica answered with a short kick to the door, and the lovers returned to their serendipitous dance.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Excerpt from a short story, "The Broken Moon" (2025)

Later, they visited the local garden, her hand on his arm, sometimes giggling like they used to, sometimes grieving as they spoke about their loss.

As they walked through the garden, the beauty of nature served as a backdrop for their raw emotions. The sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling filled the air, creating a sense of serenity that contrasted with the pain and longing in their hearts. They strolled hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, finding comfort in each other's presence.

"I miss them so much," Luna whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke of little Stephen and Julia. Luke saw the shadows cross her face and he asked her if she would like him to kiss them away or to join in her mourning for them. Both, she confessed.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

A Good Woman is Hard to Write (2009)

From Aristophanes’ Lysistrata to Steinem in Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions, the female/male relationship has been the focus of much literature, either directly or indirectly. In 1941, Pearl S. Buck wrote in Of Men and Women, “The basic discovery about any people is the discovery of the relationship between its men and its women.”  This relationship is easily seen in the literature of various cultures in history.

Often in mainstream literature, female characters were portrayed in rigid roles that presented women as sexual objects, subordinate servants, or irritating mysteries confounding male “rationality.” With the advent of the first wave of women’s rights, however, change came to how women stories were read; old presuppositions were seen by many enlightened critics to be unfairly hostile and insulting toward women.  By the 1960s, the civil rights movement empowered women even more and pushed back against older, traditionalist views stereotyping and restricting them, socially.

Not surprisingly, earlier works once considered to be one of the “Greats” were reread and critically analyzed with feminist disdain. Part of this contempt concerned the way writers such as Fitzgerald, Steinbeck, or Hemingway incorporated women into their stories.

According to Beidler, French feminists suggested that “masculine desire dominates speech and posits woman as an idealized fantasy-fulfillment for the incurable emotional lack caused by separation from the mother. (Jones, ‘Writing’ 83).”[1] This assertion is observable no clearer than in Hemingway’s “Soldier’s Home,” a story about a marine returning home after WWI to live with his mother.  Their relationship is strained and he struggles to rejoin regular life, including socializing, partially due to his traumatic wartime experiences.

The main character, Krebs, reflects, “Nothing was changed in the town except that the young girls had grown up. But they lived in such a complicated world of already defined alliances and shifting feuds that Krebs did not feel the energy or the courage to break into it. He liked to look at them, though. There were so many good-looking young girls. . . . They were too complicated”[2] In this passage, feminists would point to three factors suggesting Hemingway’s antagonist and anachronistic portrayal of women—the stunted social atmosphere in the town, the negative female political milieu, and the sexual objectification of the young girls.

Krebs claim that “Nothing was changed in the town,” except that the young girls grew up, displays a cynical attitude about women in society and their potential for progress. Basically, Hemingway is suggesting that women do not change, at least when it comes to social customs and mores. However, they do age. Feminist critics would condemn this notion as completely unrealistic considering the progressive nature of human beings, a classification in which women are included.

Regarding these young girls and their “complicated world of already defined alliances and shifting feuds,” Hemingway goes on to paint a bleak picture of female manipulation and their rote approach to relationships.  Based on this passage, women foster an environment wherein their conniving ways cause conflict and factionalism so unpleasant that Krebs lacked “the energy or courage” to get involved. Feminists would claim this unfairly presents women as generally (and eternally) devious.

Finally, Krebs ruminates ad nauseum about the appearance of the young girls in his town and how they provide visual enjoyment, but he resists getting to know them because “They were too complicated.”  Instead, Krebs focuses only on their outward appearances—“There were so many good-looking girls.” Feminists would argue Hemingway is only portraying women as sexual objects and as a commodity. These young girls are not human; they are goods to be selected only if they serve male interests, which does not include dialoguing or engaging in real relationship interactions.  

In “Soldier’s Home,” Krebs’ pondering and interaction with women suggests a negative attitude. Many consider Hemingway’s presentation of women in this work to be insulting and two dimensional. Literature utilizing this approach to women invites condemnation by feminists in Hemingway’s time and the present day. More than that, it underplays the humanity of a quintessential segment of human society.

Works Cited

[1] Peter  G. Beidler, ed. Geoffrey Chaucer: The Wife of Bath (U.S.A.: Bedford, 1996), 256.

[2] Ernest Hemingway, “Soldier’s Home,” Short Story Masterpieces (U.S.A.: Dell, 1954), 209.

Tell Me About Your Mother (and Literary Theory)

One of the most intriguing modern approaches to literary criticism concerns Psychoanalytic Theory.  The Johns Hopkins Online Guide to Literary Theory provides a sophisticated, positive description of psychoanalytical theory and some of its key critics. Regarding the theory itself, instead of simply approaching literature in terms of “neurosis,” the Guide suggests that the finest critics utilizing this theory “deploy the tools of psychoanalysis to explore precise terms of language, metaphor, and character.” Thus, critics such as Ernest Jones, Otto Rank, Ella Sharpe, Marie Bonaparte, and Frederick Crews analyze literature looking for symbolism (body image, sexuality, death), family dynamics (Oedipal/Electra complexes), metaphorical understandings (classic Freudian interpretation), unconscious manifestations (dream analysis), and sexual orientation (ambivalence, fantasy, gratification). According to the Guide, each of these critics takes psychoanalytical literary analysis beyond the stereotypical, simplistic understanding of psychoanalysis into a truly sophisticated, psychological world.

Additionally, the Guide offers supplemental pages on key psychoanalytical literary critics (such as Harold Bloom and Henry James) who enhance the understanding of this theoretical approach.  Harold Bloom is presented as a good example of a literary critic whose approach shifted from “mythopoetic themes to the uncovering of psychopoetic relationships.” His complex methodology involved him in more revisionist approaches to the literary works of poets like Blake, Yeats, Homer, and Shakespeare, and it even asserted that Freud himself ironically came up with his psychoanalytical theory based on his reading of poetry. As such, Bloom suggested an approach that utilizes psychoanalytical theory, but is not limited or restricted to analyzing texts with Freud’s original tenets. In fact, the role and purposes of the author is intertwined with their lives and other texts. The Guide states, “A poem must consequently be understood as an overdetermined anxiety that embroiled poet, precursor, and critic in an endless struggle to renegotiate their interrelations.” Because of this, the Guide lauds Bloom as a critic who transcends “any interpretive power devised to contain him.”

The Guide also provides an excellent description and analysis of the literary criticism of Henry James. As in the main page, this presentation of James promotes the (later) sophistication of his approach to literary criticism. The Guide states, “In 1884—the great turning point in James’s critical career—his moral attitudes, like his critical perspective in general, became infinitely more complex, refined, and analytical.” James’ approach to writing incorporated a new understanding of the conscious roles of the writer and the reader—one that provided the opportunity of even creating new, unique relationships in literature. Thus, he is considered by many to be a visionary; others consider him to be more of a synthesizer. The Guide states, “James is in truth neither a formalist nor a realist but, in some sense, both together.” 

Like Bloom, he sought to move beyond simple Freudian approaches to literature to a highly nuanced and mature realm specifically as it came to morality and personal perception. He was concerned with and utilized psychoanalytical understandings, but did not limit himself by it.  In fact, he used it more as a springboard for new approaches. “Placing consciousness as the center of both life and art makes an almost revolutionary break from the conventional realism of his contemporaries and connects James, as many have noted, with modernist and phenomenological modes of thought.” As such, the Guide suggests that James is more of an artist than an entertainer, and thus his works have more than just popular appeal. They manifest a particularly unique understanding of self-realization, ethics, and awareness.

All of these offerings in the Johns Hopkins Online Guide to Literary Theory provide crucial information that enhances the understanding of Psychoanalytical Theory as it is concerned with literature. Too often, Freud’s approach is applied thickly and dully, without any regard to the nuances of author/reader culture, personality, or drive, etc.  The Guide promotes a much deeper reading and analysis of literary works that moves interpretation past the popular, stereotypical understandings of psychoanalysis. Specifically, it points to several critics who have successfully done just that; they have all utilized Freud’s approach; however, they have not stopped there. Psychoanalysis is not the end point for their investigations of literature; rather, it has been the launching point for new and inventive ways of understanding the role of the author and the reader.

Works Cited

Groden, Michael, Martin Kreiswirth, and Imre Szeman, eds. The Johns Hopkins Online Guide to Literary Theory. Second Ed. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2004.

THE VOYAGE OF KATIE O’CALLAHAN (1990)

Katie O’Callahan had the toothy countenance of a beaming Connemara pony, stomping and pawing at the ground beneath her feet. She smiled gleefully, walking toward the pier, taking the beginning steps of a new life far across the Atlantic. The dock was crowded with cargo boxes, food supplies, and luggage. Her fellow travelers swirled around her like corralled cattle, and she hugged her few belongings tightly, to avoid them being knocked out of her grip by the collision of arms, baggage, and bodies.

A small black-haired girl bumped into her leg. Looking down, Katie saw the fear in her eyes, echoing the child’s desperate cries for her “Mama.” Gently pulling the girl out of the rushing river of pre-boarding pilgrims, Katie knelt beside her and carefully brushed the matted hair from her face and wiped the tears off her rosy cheeks.

“W-w-where’s Ma-ma?” the child wailed.

“It’s okay, Love. Shhh . . . Shhh,” Katie responded, stroking her hair and rocking her in her arms. “We’ll find your mama right away.”

Setting down her bags, Katie picked her up and asked, “My name's Katie; what's yours?”

“Mo-Moi-Moira Dingham.”

“My, what a beautiful name!”

“I can’t find Ma-ma!”

“I know, Moira. That’s pretty scary. I remember when it happened to me.”

“You lost your mama, too?”

“Yup. But you know what?”

With two fingers stuck in her mouth, Moira shook her head, no.

“When I was lost, my mama was looking for me as hard as I was looking for her, so I know your mama must be close by.”

With these words, Moira began to look excitedly around to catch a glimpse of her mother. Katie joined the search, and—holding Moira’s hand—picked up her bag with her other free arm and began to walk through the crowd, calling out, “Mrs. Dingham! I’ve got your daughter!” Moira added her own voice to Katie’s and soon a haggard-looking young woman with frightened eyes broke through the throng of their fellow voyagers and rushed toward them.

With a joyful squeal, the youngster leapt into her mother’s arms. Katie smiled when she saw the tearful embrace of mother and daughter and felt a yearning in her heart to see her own mama once again. She could still feel her mother’s final hug before she succumbed to consumption a few years later.

Moira’s mother alternated between cuddles and kisses, scolding her young daughter for leaving her side, but thanking God that they were united again. Katie recalled the words her own father said to her just one day earlier:

“You’re being foolish! Your life is here!”

“What have we done to make you hate us so much that you have to run away?”

“You'll lament this day for the rest of your life.”

“When you come back, we won’t be waiting for you.”

With Moira safely in the arms of “Ma-ma,” Katie silently (and a little sadly) slipped back into the crowd and made her way to the gangplank of her ship. After handing over her ticket, she walked up the ramp and looked hopefully back at the crowd. Katie’s family was not to be seen, and her heart ached. She saw other aged withering fathers and mothers bidding their departing children goodbye, lovers in tearful embrace dreading their imminent separation, and whole families carrying their scant, dilapidated belongings—huddling together while above it all, a monotone speaker mundanely announced the voyage of their lifetimes.

Katie momentarily questioned her actions. Was her father right? Was she being a stubborn, unrealistic fool? The ship’s mighty horn blew, loudly. They would be embarking soon. She could still change her mind. What if she never saw her father or brothers again?

The shipyard workers removed the boarding ramp. She was still close enough to jump onto the dock. How would she survive without any family or friends in America? The massive ship began to back away from the dock.

As the water between the ship and land expanded, she heard a scared little girl’s voice inside her head yelling, “Jump! Jump!” The ship moved farther and farther away from her homeland; the voice inside her head whimpered in panic, desperately pleading for her to swim back to shore or to maybe take a lifeboat back. Yet, Katie knew it was too late (or about time). She had committed to forging a new life for herself, in finding a new home somewhere “out there.”

Once outside the harbor, Katie wrenched her eyes away from the shoreline and made her way to the bow of the vessel before finding her berth. She felt the ship’s giant engines roar to life, and they picked up steam, moving faster than she had ever traveled before in life. The salty wind in her face seemed to blow away any lingering feelings of sadness or loneliness in her heart; instead, Katie felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Moira and her mother came up beside her and all three gazed out together into the distance. Katie smiled at Moira and the little girl shyly hid her face in her mother’s coat. Her mother pointed to the skyline and said, “Out there, Honey. Can you see it?”

Moira painstakingly gazed out over the deep ocean waters and shook her head. “I don't see it yet, Ma-ma. Where is it?” Her mother pulled her close and said, “It’s there, Moira. I promise you it is.”

The ocean breezes blew Katie's red hair lazily around her face, tickling her nose. Brushing the strands back, she smiled from deep inside. The fears that had previously gripped her so fiercely were now just bad dreams easily forgotten. Although Katie trembled, it was not from a troubled soul; rather, she felt the thrill of what was to come in the weeks to follow.

Katie only wished the ship would go faster. She also wished she could just jump overboard and skip across the ocean waters to the New World. Facing her future, majestic westward skies greeted her, and the Atlantic seemed to be like a huge, azure, velvet track beckoning her to gallop onward into the western sun.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Being a Ghost in the Story

In Introduction to Literature, Criticism, and Theory, Bennett and Royle state, “Never fully present or fully absent, a figure of fantasy and elusiveness, the author only ever haunts” (Bennett and Royale, 22). Thus, the presence of the writer is evident in texts, but not necessarily in direct fashion.  More often, the reader can only infer the intentions and motivation of the author through character depiction, plot development, and themes.  This notion is quite evident in The Egg by Sherwood Anderson. Although not directly autobiographical, Anderson’s story includes several aspects interestingly similar to the author’s own life and family.  The narrator describes key childhood memories of his parents, and their ambitious struggles for success.  In the end, the narrator presents a general outlook on life that is both tragic and cynical as his father loses his youthful happiness and optimism for life.

In the story, Anderson writes, “My Father was, I am sure, intended by nature to be a cheerful, kindly man” (Anderson, 45). However, motivated partially by the provocation of his wife, the narrator’s father attempts to run a chicken farm with her—a goal the narrator claims is part of “the American passion for getting up in the world” (Anderson, 45). According to the narrator, this endeavor is thwarted at all sides, leading him to state, “From the beginning they were impressions of disaster and if, in my turn, I am a gloomy man inclined to see the darker side of life, I attribute it to the fact that what should have been for me the happy joyous days of childhood were spent on a chicken farm” (Anderson, 46). The child is not the only sad, frustrated character in this story. Later, the narrator reports, “At any rate an egg ruined his [the Father’s] new impulse in life” (Anderson, 52). Unable to succeed as a friendly restaurateur, the narrator’s father ends up kneeling by his bed, where “He began to cry like a boy and I, carried away by his grief, cried with him” (Anderson, 52).  Anderson’s depiction of the promise of success, embodied in the egg, which is easily shattered and untenable, presents a story of depression and frustration that he, himself, would find familiar.

The focus of the Father in The Egg can easily connected with the history of Anderson’s own father, who “was an easygoing, improvident man whose itinerant habits resulted in spotty educations for his children.” (Answers.com). Both the father in The Egg and Anderson’s own father was not considered financially successful.  Also, as with the narrator’s father, Sherwood himself knew financial discord, and emotional breakdown in his own pursuits for success.  Anderson began a “successful career in advertising” (Answers.com), but later switched to managing a paint factory.  Instead of success, he ended up “suffering from nervous exhaustion and amnesia, [whereby] he suddenly deserted his factory” (Answers.com). This collapse sounds very similar to the aforementioned scene of the narrator’s father wailing in grief because he failed miserably at the restaurant business.  Likewise, Anderson experienced mixed reviews on his literary works.  His later writings “received scant attention” (Answers.com).  One could also try to connect the cavalier vocational attempts of the father in The Egg with Anderson’s own personal predilection for personal change.  Anderson was “married four times; he had two sons and one daughter by his first wife. Having deserted Ohio for Chicago, he traveled extensively in Europe” (Answers.com).

Of course, whereas in The Egg, “The problem [of success] remains unsolved in my [the narrator’s] mind” (Anderson, 56), the same may or may not be true for Anderson who enjoyed some literary success later in life. Many elements in his writings, and especially in The Egg, seem to mirror his own personal story.  Yet, without a definitive affirmation or proof from the author, it is still plausible but not provable that Anderson wrote works such as The Egg as an autobiography. As such, Anderson can only remain a “ghost” in The Egg—just an authorial impression without flesh.

Works Cited

Anderson, Sherwood. The Egg and Other Stories. Mineola: Dover, 2013.

Bennett, Andrew, and Nicholas Royle. Introduction to Literature, Criticism, and Theory. 4th Edition. New York: Routledge, 2009.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

The Party (2013)

Molly and Oliver Drake were late to the Halloween party, and the thick, Maine fog wasn’t helping their journey or their attitudes.  Molly was irritated at their tardiness and blamed it on Oliver for fighting with her about dressing him up as a cow and her as a farmer. “Dudes don’t have udders,” he had grumbled as he slipped his 200-lb frame into the cheap, balloonish outfit earlier in the evening.  Molly yanked up the zipper and replied, “Well, you could always go as an ass.” With no witty reply, Oliver had just moo’ed and then rudely grabbed his newfound udder.

The Halloween party was a yearly event, going way back to Oliver’s college days when he and his buddies lived at the dilapidated, old Oregonian house on 12th street in Corvallis.  Once the young bucks had removed the flea-infested brown shag carpeting, the house’s charm morphed into dark eeriness with wooden floors that creaked unprovoked and a cold wind that whistled through 19th-century paned windows. It was not all bad, though, as the creepiness of the house provided a self-promoting venue for Bacchus beer and babe bashes for the gang. 

In fact, all of the wives at this evening’s party had been courted during the annual Halloween party at one time or another, but Oliver’s interest in the October soirees had died long ago, his imagination stagnate with the overwhelming details and duties of his life. Molly had been carrying the carcass of their group involvement for sometime, and unspoken to her, Oliver just wanted to bury the whole party idea and move on to new and more thrilling haunting grounds.

Their dusty black KIA Soul finally screeched to a halt in front of Reneé and Connor’s cheap D.R. Horton home, painted an angry Orange for some inexplicable reason. Oliver wondered if Reneé might be color-blind, but in her typical Pollyannaish fashion, Molly just called it, “Bold and sassy.” More like old and assy, Oliver mumbled back, inaudibly.

Grabbing the half-rack of Coors Light and his DVD of Wayne’s World, Oliver cow-ishly exited the car and said to Molly, “At least we didn’t have to hoof it here, Old MacDonald.” Molly rolled her eyes and replied, “Please don’t drink too much tonight. I don’t want to have to drive home in this fog.”

Oliver responded, “You expect me to stay in this outfit sober? If I don’t drink, I may commit bovinicide.”

“You’re going to milk that angle for all it’s worth, aren’t you?” Molly said, smiling.

Oliver leaned in and gave Molly a peck on her cheek. “Until the cows come home, my sweet.”

Oliver readjusted his udder and then they pushed the doorbell and insidious laughter rang out, followed by Bach’s ‘Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.’  The door slowly creaked open, and a vampire Connor stood before them. With a thick, Slavic accent, Connor spoke. “Velcome to my casile. Enter uf yur own fe-ree vill, and joy-een the fessssssstivities, my geests.”

Oliver handed Connor the DVD and said, “Gee, Connor. You feeling okay? You look anemic.” Connor raised his eyebrow and replied, “Perhaps I should stop by the blood bank for a withdrawal.”  Oliver raised his eyebrow as well and said, “Maybe that would stop your coffin.  Get it? Coffin? Coughing? Get it?”

Tired of their dorky banter, Molly tried to sneak by, but Connor grabbed her and pulled her close, and said, “I’ve never had farmer vintage,” and started to go for her neck, fangs extended.

“You like those teeth, bat-boy?” Oliver growled and Connor stopped, mid-lunge. “Perhaps I should stick to Bloody Mary’s tonight,” he answered.  “Good choice,” Molly said as just patted them both on the cheeks, maneuvering into the house. Seeing each other across the dimly-lit room filled with an assortment of ghastly and goofy figures, both Molly and Reneé squealed in delight viewing their outfits (Reneé was dressed like a demented, bloody dental hygienist) and rushed to give each other hugs.

Connor and Oliver looked at each other with perplexed grimaces and then Connor took the case of Coors, and said to Oliver, “The good beers are in the fridge, bro. I’ll give this a good burial.” Oliver just smiled and shrugged and made his way down the dark hallway towards the kitchen.

Connor and Reneé had done a frighteningly effective job this year, decoration-wise. Cobwebs were in every corner, and spiders had been pasted to the walls and onto the doorknobs. They had even rented a fog machine that spewed out a smelly but impenetrable layer of mist across the floor.  The whole house seemed like a macabre nightmare of ghoulishness and camp house design (D.R. Horton had helped them out on that one without permission).  Vincent Price would have been proud of their efforts, truly.

In fact, it was so potent that Oliver felt a moment of youthful apprehension run down his spine and then felt even more terror when he looked at his bovine figure in the hall mirror. “Whoa. Time for a beer or three,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. This was the last time that Molly would pick out their costumes, he thought, prophetically.

The kitchen was filled with murky red light and instead of the typical bright-white refrigerator bulb flooding the room when he opened the door, a loud witch cackled with sadistic pleasure from within its dark space.  Oliver fumbled inside to get a couple of beers and felt his fingers sink into some unknown goo before feeling the cold wetness of the bottles.  He grabbed three brews and shut the door.

The unexpected mummy standing beside him caused Oliver to shriek out, “Crap!” and he almost dropped the beers.

“Hey, Oliver,” his friend Jack said, emotionless.

“Jeezus, Jack. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry, pal,” Jack replied, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t feel good. I thought a drink might help.”

Oliver looked carefully through the reddish light and could see the dark circles under his friend’s blood-shot eyes. “Damn, bro. You don’t look good, either. Maybe Heather should take you home.”

Jack took one of Oliver’s beers, opened it, and took several slow gulps. Wiping his mouth and handing the beer back he said, “Yeah, Oliver. So thirsty. Had a bad day at work. Someone bi—“

Before he could finish, Molly rushed into the room and said, “Jack!  You need to go help Heather. She’s in the bathroom, barfing.”

“Awesome,” Jack responded, followed with a deep sigh. “I feel like I’m on graveyard shift again.” Going to the counter to get a washcloth, Jack coughed hard for a moment and then spit out some darkish goo into the sink. With morbid curiosity, Oliver took a quick peek, but couldn’t tell if it was phlegm or blood because of the damn red light.

Wiping his own face first, Jack said, “Let’s go,” and walked out in front of her. On her way out, Oliver winked at Molly and said, “Just like college, eh?”  Molly shook her head. She looked more worried than annoyed, but maybe it was just the lights, too. Oliver started to take a drink of the beer, but he stopped short and set the beer down on the counter, wondering if Jack’s sickness was catchy.  Grabbing another bottle from the witch’s cackle cold cauldron, he moved to the living room to see what the others were doing.

It was as still as a boneyard. No one was talking. He saw several of his old friends sitting upon the couch and on the floor, eyes dully fixed on Wayne and Garth expounding upon their philosophy of life.  Drake and Lara were dressed as King Arthur and Morgan Le Fay, George and his brother Frank were wearing Scooby Doo and Shaggy costumes, Pete and Marla were dressed up like Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, and Rebekah and Jeremy dressed up like trashy teen rock idols, but he couldn’t remember the idols names (and didn’t care much to try to remember them anyway).

Standing at the door, Oliver loudly proclaimed, “Wow! Y’all really know how to party!”  A few of them slowly turned their heads towards him and growled.  Oliver held out his beers and said, “Anyone want one?” but he only heard more grunts and snarls.  Oliver shook his head and concluded that these parties were getting deader and deader by the year.

A loud, nasty retching sound from the bathroom caught his attention and he went to see how Heather and Jack were doing.  Before he could go inside, Molly exited the bathroom, closing it quickly behind her. “You don’t want to go in there,” she said, looking slightly greenish herself. 

“Not good?” Oliver asked.

“Really bad. I’m not sure Jack is well enough to help Heather anymore.  Have you seen Connor or Reneé?”

“Nope, but I can look around.”

Molly sweetly touched his forearm and said, “Thanks, love.”

Oliver closed his eyes and made a silly face. “You know that I would die for you, my dear.”

Molly pointed to the back of the house. “Go get them.”

Oliver saluted her and replied, “Moooooo-ing along, sir.”

Molly went back into the bathroom and Oliver could hear her speak comfortingly to Jack and Heather through the door, but he felt a fear building inside—whatever this flu was, he didn’t want them getting it and being dead on their feet with so much work to do next week.

He moved quickly from room to room, without success. Where the hell were they? He tried every room, even upstairs, but there was no sign of Connor or Reneé.  The only place he hadn’t ventured into was their garage, but he had no idea what they were doing out there.  His mind immediately flashed back to college days and the youthful desperate urges to make out anywhere and at anytime. He hoped his hosts weren’t reliving their past proclivities in the garage. He wanted to get them in the bathroom and Molly out, asap.

He knocked on the garage door, just in case, and called out, “Connor? Reneé?”  No response, so he hit the light switch and a solitary light bulb flickered on in the big room, illuminating their gray Prius. He saw no one and began to wonder if they had gone out for more liquor when he saw the car rock a bit.  The windows were tinted (thank God) so he couldn’t see inside, but he figured Connor and Reneé were in there, getting it on, just like they did at too many other parties once the booze hit and they got frisky.

“Hey! Lovebirds!  You need to come inside and help one of your dying guests.”

Oliver heard low moaning from inside the cab and immediately turned his gaze away.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Don’t mean to interrupt, but Heather and Jack are totally sick. Plus, Molly and I need to take off—lots of work for tomorrow.”

Oliver heard one of the doors open, but it felt too awkward to make eye-contact so he turned around.

“Thanks for the party, you two. Fun as usual,” Oliver said as he closed the door, his face redder than the kitchen light. “Well, that was uncomfortable,” he said to himself.

He headed back to the bathroom and saw Molly sitting down outside, a beer bottle by her side.

He stood beside her and said, “How are the typhoid twins?”

“Quiet,” Molly replied. “Sleeping it off, I think.”

Oliver chuckled and said, “I found Connor and Reneé in the garage…in the car…and they were making funny noises.  I told them to come in and take care of Jack and Heather.”

Molly managed a smile and said, “That’s nice, love—Can we go home now? I have a terrible headache and I am so sleepy.”

“Oh, yes, please. Let’s leave this deathly domain of dullness,” Oliver said, happy to get home and remove his cattle costume.  Molly reached up for a hand, and he obliged, pulling her up mostly with his own strength.

“Jeez, woman. How much did you drink?”

Molly leaned into him and said, “I just finished the beer you left on the counter. Not much.”

“You were warning me about drinking too much?  I think you’ve had tee martoonies, ” Oliver said, chuckling.

“Uh huh,” was all Molly said in return.

Hugging her tightly, they walked to the front door and Oliver opened it.  Molly slumped even harder against him, so Oliver picked her up in his arms, maneuvered outside without bumping her head or feet, and kicked the door to close it. Before it shut completely, he saw Reneé stumbling down the hallway.

Oliver managed to blurt out, “It was the party of a lifetime!” before the door closed.

Carrying his darling drunk farmer-wife to the car, he propped her against the KIA until he got the door opened and eased her inside. He shut her door, looked around, and removed his ridiculous cow outfit and tossed it onto the lawn.  A trick on Connor and Reneé considering how bad the party was and how unlikely that he would get any treats from his wife in her present condition.  He saw Connor lumbering toward them, but only waved as he shut his car door.

He started the car and drove off into the misty night without looking behind.

“That was a wasted night,” he said looking at his wife slumped against the passenger door. “It was sad that Howard and Sylvia didn’t make it—they make any party fun. And my costume was stupid. Next year, we’re going as James Bond and the chick from Resident Evil. I love you, babe, but this is one night of my life that I will never get back. I wish—“ but his words froze in his throat when he turned to see his wife’s ghastly green face inches away and moving closer, teeth barred, and blackish red drool spilling out.

His screams got lost in the screeching sounds of a KIA turning over and over, as it careened off the road into the dark, foggy night.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Long Live the Canon! (2009)

American professor of Philosophy Paul Holmer once wrote, “Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it.  It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become” (Holmer 28). This is a powerful description of a human activity that many have participated in over the centuries, and that many have sought to understand and analyze in scholarship. For both the writer and the reader, there is significance to literature that revolves around purpose, perception, and prediction.  These factors are quintessential in understanding which books should be revered and which should not.

One of the most important aspects in the canonization of books concerns purposefulness.  Most professional writers attempt their craft with serious intentions, putting a great deal of thought into word choice, character depiction, plot outline, etc.  They write their piece(s) to present a particular message to their readers, one that hopefully resonates with the reader at various levels--social, political, or philosophical. 

Of course, some writers do this well and others with more difficulty, but writing that offers no possibility of understanding the potential purposes of the writer should not be included in the canon.  It is like having a can of water in the desert, but with no can-opener. Similarly, the product of writing without purpose becomes dead weight and should be discarded.

Additionally, perception in writing is also important to canonization.  Good literature allows for the reader to understand what is going on inside the story, at least at a nominal level.  Plot, characters, themes are accessible, even though some deeper understandings of the aforementioned are harder to perceive than others. Canonized writings have apparent aspects for examination and are sensible.

Works that do not allow for clear perception and that only bewilder the reader should not be allowed into the canon.  If the common reader, scholarly or other, cannot understand what is going on within a work, then there is no possibility of categorizing it besides calling it non-understandable.  Such a work is basically just an exercise in letter arrangement and verb conjugation—a dictionary would have more perceived meaning to the reader.

Another aspect of canonized literature is that it offers the reader predictions of human behavior, moral norms, or cultural status.  Within the writing, the reader can see what the author is foreseeing for society based on his/her snapshot of life.  It is social commentary for the present, but it is also observations of the far off.  In some ways, this relates to the purposes of the writer in that he or she might be offering a warning to the reader; however, the writer may have no ultimate opinion on the prediction except that it will reverberate into the future.

All three of these aspects can be understood in regarding why a work should or should not be allowed into the canon by considering two books—Ulysses by James Joyce and Planet of the Apes by Pierre Boulle. Both works are “fun” to read; yet, Ulysses offers little to reader in regards to purpose, perception, and prediction of the author, while Planet of the Apes offers cynical, social commentary presented throughout its pages.  Because of this, Ulysses should not be allowed into the canon and Planet of the Apes should be included.

Both Ulysses and Planet of the Apes have been both condemned and praised in academic circles. What is pivotal in both works is their use (or destruction) of historical, social, literary conventions.  In the Planet of the Apes, the reader can easily see what purposes Boulle has for his work, s/he can perceive what Boulle is basing his social commentary on, and is able to understand the future implications on humanity as predicted by Boulle. It may be fantasy, but it makes sense. 

Ulysses, on the other hand, is not understandable.  In fact, because of its stream-of-consciousness presentation, the reader has little to go on in understanding the purposes of the author or the contents within the story or any social, historical, or philosophical implications.  Literature has purpose, perceived meaning, and offers predictions on reality; bad writing does not and gives little benefit to the reader. Hopefully, the motivation, explanations, and future implications of this author’s position on canonization has added clarity to the topic.

Works Cited

Boulle, Pierre. 1963. Planet of the Apes. Vanguard Press.

Holmer, Paul L. 1976. C. S. Lewis: The Shape of His Faith and Thought. Harper & Row.

Joyce, James. 2024. Ulysses. Nielsen.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

The Curious Authorship of F. Scott Fitzgerald (2009)

Printed on the book leaf of his first novel, F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, “My whole theory of writing I can sum up in one sentence: an author ought to write for the youth of his own generation, the critics of the next and the schoolmasters of ever afterward” (Fitzgerald leaf). Fitzgerald seems to do just that in his short story, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which offers a cultural snapshot of his life and times.  This is a crucial element in the literary school of New Historicism, which is concerned with how a literary work is influenced by the era in which it was produced.  Based on this notion, within the first section of Benjamin Button, the reader can see the potential social, economic, and cultural forces that may have influenced Fitzgerald as he wrote this story.

Fitzgerald begins his story with a cultural proclamation about the changing obstetrical practices surrounding the birth of Benjamin Button.  Fitzgerald writes, “As long ago as 1860 it was the proper thing to be born at home.  At present, I am told, the high gods of medicine have decreed that the first cries of the young shall be uttered upon the anesthetic air of a hospital preferably a fashionable one” (Fitzgerald 1). This passage offers much to the reader in regards to understanding the “proper” medical norms of Fitzgerald’s time.  Whereas in the past (at the time of Benjamin Button’s infancy), it was appropriate for birthings to take place in a personal environment, in Fitzgerald’s “present” time, deliveries had moved to a more institutional location.  Thus, Button’s hospital birth is called an “anachronism,” allowing the reader to get a critical glimpse of the future transformation of the health field.  Additionally, Fitzgerald’s reference to the doctors as “high gods of medicine” offering decrees, suggests another cultural shift for physicians in mainstream society from one of marginalization to centralization.

Social dominance is also touched upon in Benjamin Button—another factor New Historicists are keen to study. Fitzgerald writes,

The Roger Buttons held an enviable position, both social and financial, in ante-bellum Baltimore.  They were related to the This Family and the That Family, which, as every Southerner knew, entitled them to membership in that enormous peerage which largely populated the Confederacy (Fitzgerald 1).  

Readers can take note of several references in this passage that speak of social prestige and honor.  Apparently, family connections were considered “enviable” and gave to the Buttons “membership” in the important social cliques of the South.  Interestingly, this status in not in Fitzgerald’s “present” time based on the reference to “ante-bellum Baltimore.” Benjamin Button was written after the Civil War, so the social circles had changed and the Buttons’ community elitism was no more.

Despite some social transformation, some aspects of society seemed persistent.  Fitzgerald brings into the story issues of ethnicity and political correctedness when he writes, “And then the old man would gather his blanket around him and they would plod on, past the bustling stores, the slave market—for a dark instant Mr. Button wished passionately that his son was black—past the luxurious houses of the residential district, past the home for the aged” (Fitzgerald 5).  The shame of Roger Button concerning the physical condition of his son is so great that he “wished passionately” that his son was black instead of being in this absurd “aged” condition.  The reader can further infer from Fitzgerald’s reference to “the slave market” that Roger would not be opposed to selling off his bizarre son if he were black.  Such references point to a historical presence of slavery not far removed from Fitzgerald’s time and a current social marginalization separating blacks from “the luxurious houses of the residential district.”  Fitzgerald even touches upon more bigotry when he mentions, “past the home for the aged…”

One of the more subtle social presentations in Benjamin Button focuses on appropriate emotional responses.  Speaking of Roger Button, Fitzgerald writes, “On the September morning consecrated to the enormous event he arose nervously at six o’clock” (Fitzgerald 1). Thus, the birth of his child is of monumental importance, bordering on the religious considering the use of the term, “consecrated.”  Most would consider this a normal response of a soon-to-be father; however, when Roger encounters the doctor, typically a position believed to be exercised with compassion, Roger instead gets snubbed and dismissed by the physician.  Fitzgerald writes,

“What’s the matter?” demanded Mr. Button appalled.  “Triplets?” “No, Not triplets!” answered the doctor cuttingly. “What’s more, you can go and see for yourself. And get another doctor.  I brought you into the world, young man, and I’ve been physician to your family for forty years, but I’m through with you!  I don’t want to see you or any of your relatives ever again!  Good-bye!” (Fitzgerald 2). 

Such a display runs counter to the social expectation of a doctor upholding the Hippocratic oath and who has been part of the family for years.  Yet, this display is nothing compared to Roger Button’s response to his son. Fitzgerald writes, ‘“Am I mad?” Thundered Mr. Button, his terror resolving into rage. “Is this some ghastly hospital joke?”’ (Fitzgerald 3). Parents are supposed to love their newborn infants regardless of their appearance, but Roger does not.  New Historicists might believe that this is Fitzgerald’s subtle criticism of the coldness of the Victorian Era or the indifference of his own age.  Either way, Fitzgerald’s presentation of “proper” emotional response in Benjamin Button is a poignant statement on social emotionalism.

The critical approach of New Historicism, as applied to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, highlights the various social and cultural elements of the milieu surrounding Fitzgerald and his writing, providing depth of understanding and social emphasis.  Yet, a New Historicism approach may overlook or underplay literary elements more important than the contextual descriptions.  The scientific oddity of a newborn baby emerging from the mother’s womb as a seventy-year old man might be the crucial aspect upon which Fitzgerald wanted his readers to focus. Instead of aiding literary analysis, New Historicism might only confuse the reading and make it harder to see the individual tree within the forest, so to speak.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Old Man Tethers (2012)

Red fallen leaves blew across my shoes as I walked between the rain puddles on the path. I was visiting my hometown for the holidays and thought a brisk walk through the park might relax me, so I chose a familiar hangout of my childhood play. Across the way, I saw a solitary figure sitting on the park bench, shivering and coughing, surrounded by a flock of pigeons. As I walked by him, he said nothing, but kept his eyes to the ground as he slowly fed the birds. The sight of him sitting there on that park bench, with his bag of bread in his hands, brought back vivid memories of past days and particularly of one spring's encounter with Old Man Tethers.

Old Man Tethers was considered the town joke when I was a boy. He wasn't a bum or a drunk, but he kept to himself most of the time and only came out to feed the squirrels. My parents referred to him as "poor," "sad," and "hopeless," and all I had ever heard about his past was that he was an old and faded baseball star who had left New York many years ago at the peak of his career, much to the amazement of his friends and fans. No reason had been given. He just packed his things and moved out. Buying a one-room house in our small town, he buried himself in a shroud of mystery and solitude.

I remember how the kids often teased him in the park, coming up behind him and kicking him in the seat of his yellow checkered pants. He would turn and shake his fist at them, yelling through rotting teeth. His strange behavior scared me and though I never saw him hurt anyone, I still did my best to avoid him.

One Saturday morning, when my friends and I were practicing baseball in the park, Old Man Tethers was out resting on his usual bench, eyes closed, when one of the balls I had pitched went flying toward him. I yelled at him to duck, but he must not have heard; the ball struck him soundly on the chest. He jumped up with a start, looking around to see what kid had hit him.

His eyes fell upon the baseball lying by his feet and I cringed in pain as he bent down and picked up our only ball. I figured that was that and we were done for the day. I also expected yelling and cursing from Old Man Tethers, but all he did was sit back down on the bench and stare intently at the ball in his hands. The other kids gathered around me, and we decided that Tethers must not be angry and that we might get our ball back. Unfortunately, seeing how I was the one who had thrown the ball, I was "volunteered" to get it back from him.

I took ten deep breaths to brace myself and slowly walked toward him. As I drew near, my heart beat faster and I promised myself that I would never play baseball again if I survived this. When I came within five feet of him, I stopped and said in a small, timid voice, "Sir?"

He did not respond.

"Sir? Can I have my ball back? I'm sorry I hit you."

Jerking his head up, he replied in a husky voice, "You should be more careful. You could really hurt someone."

Stepping closer to him, I swallowed the lump in my throat and sickly smiled, mentioning that I was just practicing for Monday's game.

"You play? What position?"

"Pitcher, Sir."

"You need more practice. You know, I used to play baseball once. I wasn't half bad."

At this point in our conversation, I was caught in the middle of two emotions—confusion that he was not mad at us, and a strong desire to retreat to the safety of my friends. I had no stomach for talking with notorious, nefarious hermits. I just wanted to get out of there. A flash of what I considered brilliance entered my mind.

"Would you like to play with us? We could always use another player," I asked him (knowing he'd refuse, giving me reason to leave with the ball). A cold chill went down my back as he replied, "Okay, but I want to bat first." Walking back together to my friends, I saw their astonishment and shrugged my shoulders in response.

"Old . . . I mean, Mr. Tethers is going to play with us for a while." I tried to ignore my friends' confused and irritated faces.

Old Man Tethers moved up to the batter's box, swinging the bat in his hands, stretching out his arms.

"Okay Kid, but not so fast at first," he grumbled.

I decided it would be a smart move if I weren't so hard on him. I had already hurt him once, and I didn't want to press my luck. My first pitch was a slow one, straight and true, into the catcher's mitt. His bat went by with a swish and a grunt.

"Give me another!" he demanded.

I sent the ball flying at him, only this time, his bat struck the ball soundly and it went whistling over our outfielder's head. The boy ran and returned with the ball, throwing it to me when he came within speaking distance. He whispered, "Strike him out! You're being too nice to the old coot."

I turned to face Old Man Tethers and he smiled at me with his yellow-corned grin and said, "See? I told you I was good. Throw me another."

I pitched a faster ball the next time, but his bat connected with it and again, it went over another outfielder's head.

"What's the matter with you?" my friends yelled. "Strike him out!"

I decided to get serious, so I wound up with an even more powerful pitch and let it go.

"Bam!" The ball went soaring high once again. As I watched the ball sail to the outfield, I heard him chuckle behind me. I decided that I had been nice enough. I concentrated intensely on my next pitch. This time I let him have an inside fastball, and a smile came to my lips as I heard the “Whoosh!” as he swung unsuccessfully at the ball.

A startled, scared look was in his eyes, but it soon passed as he knelt to the ground and began to grind the end of the bat into the dirt. As his knuckles grew whiter and whiter with his effort, I wondered if I had that same startled, scared look in my eyes then. He was no longer just having fun. He was trying to intimidate and beat me. I was hurt and confused that a grown man would treat me that way. Wasn't this just a game?  

I stood there, trembling, waiting for him to give me some sign to begin. His eyes were cold and determined, but I noticed a twitch in the corner of his mouth. After so many years of being out of practice, did Old Man Tethers have the "stuff" to even play against a twelve-year-old kid?

I changed up my pitch and paused just before releasing, trying to throw off his timing. When the ball finally left my hand, I put all my strength behind it, trying for a curve ball. It was a beautiful sight as the ball soared in a perfect crescent, swinging outside at first but then shifting high but to the middle, constricting Tethers’ choices. He swung wildly, clumsily tripping over his own feet, and fell to the ground. The air around was instantly filled with the laughter, cheering, and jeering of the kids on the field.

"Dammit!" he roared. "No kid is going to strike me out!"

Old Man Tethers rose like a mountain of fury, ripped the ball from the catcher's hand, and ran off the field and out of the park. We all gathered around the home plate and watched as his checkered pants scurried out of sight.

"What a weirdo!" someone muttered.

After short discussion (and with equipment missing), the kids decided to meet the next day to finish our practice. This time, though, we would bring more than just one ball. One by one they all left, until I was the only one standing on the field.

Pondering what had happened, my anger for Old Man Tethers was replaced with that same pity I heard my parents express when referring to him. I felt an overwhelming urge to go to find Tethers and apologize for the way that they had treated him. Tucking my mitt under my arm, I started in the direction of his home. Along the path, I found my baseball—muddy and lying in the gutter—apparently tossed aside by Old Man Tethers.

When I reached his home, it was nearly twilight and shadows were looming in the corners of the timeworn houses nearby. I snuck up to his side window and peered inside. Tethers was sitting on an old, beat-up couch, staring at the five O'clock news on a small, black-and-white television set on a chair in front of him as he polished a trophy in his lap. On the walls surrounding him were yellowed newspaper clippings, pennants, photographs of his former baseball team, and a giant trophy case that covered one entire wall in his living room.

After he had buffed his trophy to his liking, he lovingly kissed it, and then got up, returning it to its apparent rightful place inside the dusty, cobweb-filled trophy case. The heartfelt pity I felt for him quickly turned into a queasy stomach. I quietly slipped away and went home, vowing to move my baseball trophies down from the top shelf to the middle one that night, to brush my teeth better—and to never own checkered pants. I placed the muddied baseball from the gutter next to my most prized trophy (as a trophy of its own).

During the baseball game on the following Monday, I ended up “walking” five opponents during the first three innings. Subsequently (but not surprisingly), we lost big (according to my annoyed teammates), but it didn’t bother me much. After all, it was just a game. Later, when they ridiculed me for my carefree attitude, I simply replied, "Sorry, but you’re welcome to have any of my old trophies, if that makes you feel better."

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Human Agency and Christ’s Redemption

From the dawn of history, human beings have demonstrated a unique propensity among earthly creatures to exercise free will in their daily decisions and actions. People may have natural instincts, but we are not necessarily slaves to them. All people, all individuals operate independently regarding their attitudes, actions, and interpretations. In Sociology, this is called, “Agency,” and it has been affirmed throughout the ages.

The Greek philosopher Epictetus wrote, “You may fetter my leg, but Zeus himself cannot get the better of my free will.” 

The great theologian Augustine of Hippo wrote, “There is no sin unless through a man’s own will, and hence the reward when we do right things also of our own will.” 

The infamous author of The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli claimed, “God is not willing to do everything, and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us.” 

The pugnacious Reformer Martin Luther explained, “The very name, Free-will, was odious to all the Fathers. I, for my part, admit that God gave to mankind a free will, but the question is, whether this same freedom be in our power and strength, or no?”

The Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy concluded, “Each man lives for himself, uses his freedom to achieve his personal goals, and feels with his whole being that right now he can or cannot do such-and-such an action; but as soon as he does it, this action, committed at a certain moment in time, becomes irreversible, and makes itself the property of history, in which it has not a free but a predestined significance.” 

Sociologist George Herbert Mead diagnosed, “Our self exists in an interactive relationship with its environment.” Additionally, as part-time apologist and full time novelist C.S. Lewis put it, “The sin of men and of angels, was rendered possible by the fact that God gave us free will.”  

The evangelical Atheist Richard Dawkins admits, “I am very comfortable with the idea that we can override biology with free will” and inspirational speaker Sean Covey proclaims, “You are free to choose what you want to make of your life. It’s called free agency or free will, and it’s your birthright.” 

The Bible, too, is replete with stories, teachings, and admonitions discussing this exercise of personal freedom. From Genesis to Revelation, one does not need to read too deeply to encounter the biographical stories of biblical characters making choices and experiencing the fruits (sweet and sour) of their decisions.

The seeds of human agency began in with Adam and Eve, the first human couple on Earth. Genesis 2:15–17 state,

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the Lord God commanded the man, ‘You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for you eat from it you will certainly die” (Gen 2:15–17).

Despite this clear and ominous warning of God, Eve also displayed her own ability to make autonomous choices (separate from Adam and God)— 

“When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then, the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so, they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves” (Gen 3:6–7). 

Agency is a human trait that gives all men and all women the right to choose as they will, regardless of consequences and common sense. This freedom is not a product of a fallen nature; the human ability of free choice existed in the Garden of Eden before the Fall. The reality is that based on the biblical texts, sometimes people choose wisely; other times, they come to lament their decisions, which the biblical texts clearly affirm.

Thus, agency can be seen in Cain’s slaying of Abel, in Job’s mournful resolution to wait for God’s explanation for his tribulations, in Abraham’s faithful migration from Mesopotamia to Canaan, in Hagar’s choice to return to a potentially abusive tent, in Jacob’s willingness to work seven more years to gain Rachel’s hand, in Joseph’s decision not to slay his wicked brothers who had earlier sold him into slavery, in Samson’s blinding vanity and suicidal final mission, in King Saul’s decision to disobey God, in King David’s decision to commit adultery and murder, in Esther’s courageous un-beckoned approach to King Xerxes to save her people, in Jeremiah’s decision to stand bravely before the Temple sharing God’s warning of exile, in Jonah’s escape of his prophetical duties to Nineveh, in John the Baptist’s passionate but politically incorrect warning to Israel (and her leaders) to repent, in the Disciples’ abandonment of their nets to follow a fisher of men, in the Apostles unwillingness to worship a crazed despot, in the early church’s willingness to sacrifice their social security to share the light of eternal security with those in spiritual darkness. 

The Bible presents a checkered account of the darkest and most desperate corners of human pursuits, which seems to go on forever, without an end in sight some 2,000 years later. This leads many to an existentialist crisis, provoking the famed Renaissance artist Michelangelo to lament, “I live in sin, to kill myself I live; no longer my life my own, but sin’s; my good is given to me by heaven, my evil by myself, by my free will, of which I am deprived.”

Yet, the Gospel suggests a greater understanding of human agency fulfilled and perfected in the Son of God, Jesus Christ (and faithfully reflected in the loving submission of His followers, the church). No greater example of human agency can be seen than in the person and power of Jesus of Nazareth, who knew no sin, who was a teacher and preacher beyond compare, who could heal the lame and blind with a touch of his hand (or robe), who could command and cast out evil spirits with just a simple command—“Go!”—whose heart for humanity encompassed all brothers and sisters from all ages, and who willingly gave up His life that all may have everlasting life. He was the ultimate man of action and agency, choosing to fully obey God in life.

The Apostle Paul speaks of the incomparable Son of God in Colossians and writes,

“For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He is also head of the body, the church; and He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He Himself will come to have first place in everything” (Col 1:13–18).

Despite the inevitable lethal repercussions for fallen people exercising free agency, the path of a stumbling humanity does not have to end inescapably in death. As the Apostle John proclaimed long ago, 

“This is the message we have heard from Him and announce to you, that God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth; but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5–7). 

The beauty of the Gospel story is that human beings are still allowed to exercise their free will, their personal agency—in a display of personal strength, wisdom, and courage—just as Jesus did over 2,000 years ago.  

Jesus could have chosen a life of hedonism and carnality, but He did not—He submitted to the Word of God. He could have set Himself up as the ultimate ruler of the world, but He did not—He chose instead to be a servant of the Lord. He could have been a rebel, a doubter of God and His goodness, but He did not—He humbly trusted in His loving, righteous Father in Heaven.  

Freedom is a gift, but nowhere near as precious a gift as choosing a life in God through Jesus Christ.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

Congenital and Other Risk Factors in Cerebral Aneurysm Pathology

 Introduction 

Although less than 10% of people in the United States will have a cerebral aneurysm (CA)—either an unruptured or ruptured—the malady still seriously affects nearly 30,000 Americans each year (Nahed et al., 2007). A dangerous ballooning of a brain blood vessel (often where the vessel bifurcates in the brain), cerebral aneurysms tend to affect more women than men and more people over the ages of 50 to 60, although it is prevalent in all age groups (Etminan et al., 2015).

Considered by many to be a quiet killer (Sundt, 2019), the occurrence of cerebral aneurysms can be mysterious, with a variety of risk factors and anatomical features acting as catalysts for their development and potentially dangerous consequences. Treatment of an aneurysm depends upon its classification (secular, fusiform, mycotic), with the victims’ prognosis being historically mixed (Hokari et al., 2013; Olafsson et al., 1997). Overall, cerebral aneurysms are both complex in anatomical formation and complex in medical diagnosis and treatment. Decades of research have narrowed down the causes and risks for cerebral aneurysms into three main camps: congenital in origin, developmental in origin, and volitional or behavioral in origin (Schiffer et al., 2002; Sadasivan et al., 2013; Weir et al., 1998).

Many people are born with structural problems of their arteries and/or blood vessels that have a propensity to develop into an aneurysm later on in life (Woodhall et al., 1952). Thus, an aneurysm can develop over a person’s lifespan, contigent upon the natural breakdown of body tissues, detrimental effects of various diseases, and the reduction of arterial plasticity over the years. Finally, many people embrace risky lifestyles that can increase one’s chances of developing an aneurysm such as heavy drinking, excessive smoking, unhealthy over-eating, and wanton drug abuse.

With the aforementioned in mind, this paper will provide an in-depth discussion of the etiology of cerebral aneurysms, specifically concerning how the three different etiological branches of aneurysms (congenital, developmental, volitional) stem from and/or affect cerebral anatomy and function.

Origins of Aneurysms

Congenital Genesis

As mentioned earlier, cerebral aneurysms can be congenital in origin. Many victims of cerebral aneurysm are born with diseases and syndromes that affect the brain’s vascular structure and functionality (Olubajo et al., 2020). Complicating diagnosis and treatment, pediatric aneurysms are rare, diverse, simingly spontaneous, and dissimilar in many ways to adult aneurysms (Requejo et al., 2010). As Albornoz et al. (2006) point out, “Our finding in this large series that more than 20% of TAAs occur with familial clustering . . . This statistic certainly under-estimates the true prevalence of aneurysm disease in kindred, however, because many family members may harbor unknown aneurysms” (p. 1404).

Most people are aware of more of the serious congenital defects such as cleft lip, club foot, Down syndrome, muscular dystrophy, spina bifida, anencephaly, and and so on. Beyond these are more hidden congenital cerebral disorders such as phenylketonuria (PKU), neural tube closure defects, corpus callosum anomalies, or other structural and vascular weaknesses—all of which that can lead to brain aneurysms. Victims of cerebral aneurysm are often born with serious anatomical malformations (Regalado et al., 2011). These include a weakened endothelial layer, or people may suffer from neural tube closure issues, cephalocoele, and other disorders that can lead to localized swelling of intracranial arteries that can become aneuryistic (Zhou et al., 2018).

Inherited Genesis

Although anyone can be stricken with a cerebral aneurysm, several medical studies have shown that familiar patterns of past aneurysms increases the likelihood of a first-degree relative suffering the same fate (Juvela et al., 2001). In other words, if a parent or grandparent has had aneurysm issues, it is very likely that their children will, too (Mackey et al., 2013). This is due to the natural transmission of genes and chromosomes from parent to child (Requejo et al., 2010), with many people in danger of developing inherited anatomical weaknesses (Albornoz et al., 2006). For instance, familial aneurysms are one of the biggest risk factors for close relations themselves developing intracranial berry aneurysms later on in life (Hitchcock et al., 2017).

Narrowing it down even more, both Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and Marfan syndrome (noticeable at birth) can negatively affect the vascular environment of the brain (Rubinstein, & Cohen, 1964). Vascular Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, because of its genetically-fostered arterial fragility, can lead to serious intracranial problems such as carotico-cavernous fistulae and aneurysms in the Circle of Willis (Olubajo et al., 2020). Although rare, Marfan syndrome can affect connective tissues in the brain and/or spinal column, leading to hemorrhages or aneurysms (Wityk et al., 2002). Inherited genetic orders such as these can dramatically impact the social, psychology, and physical life of its sufferers.

Therefore, due to the early onset incidence rate associated with familial aneurysms, close relatives (first-order) should be screened as soon as possible (Albornoz et al., 2006). Furthermore, it is important to consider the options in determining if an aneurysm exists, and then to formulize steps in preventing an aneurysm from developing. Finally, it is imperative to determine which treatment(s) can and should be utilized if a cerebral aneurysm is diagnosed (Bacigaluppi et al., 2014; Tanweer et al., 2014).

Developmental Genesis

Not all cerebral aneurysms are genetic or inherited. Some cerebral aneurysms are developmental in origin (Sadasivan et al., 2013). That is, the cerebral aneurysms are caused from physical impairments experienced as people’s bodies grow and change through their life stages.

Pathologically (and depending upon the type of disease or disorder), degeneration can occur in crucial anatomical regions of the brain at a cellular or vascular level (Frosen et al., 2012). Weakened cellular walls can become prone to aneurysm ruptures (Frosen et al., 2012). Sharp arterial angles and underdeveloped vascular bifurcations in the brain can create a risky region for the development of aneurysms (Bor et al., 2008). As Sadasivan et al. note (2013), “The consequences of aneurysmal hemorrhage are dire, carrying a mortality rate of about 50% and a morbidity rate among survivors of about 50%” ( p. 1347).

Aneurysms are also connected to other diseases such as diabetes and polycystic kidney disease (Krex et al., 2001; Matsumura et al., 1985), but even some functionally healthy bodily states can act as an impetus for cerebral aneurysms. Paradoxically, lowered serum cholesterol has been associated with intracranial hemorrhaging in the eldery Japanese in Hawaii and Japan (Yano et al., 1989). Thus, the potential for developing a cerebral hemmorhage has a lot to do with which disease a person is stricken and with the overall condition of his or her changing anatomical systems.

Complicating medical matters even more (and adding to the mystery of cerebral dysfunction), aneurysms can occur anywhere in the body and for a number of reasons. For instance, intracranial hemorrhages are more about stress than the site (Kondo et al., 1997). Cerebral aneurysms also share characteristics with other types of aneurysms in the body (Tanweer et al., 2014); yet, traumatic aneurysms are rare and are more likely to be situated on extradural vessles rather than intracerebral arteries (Benoit & Wortzman, 1973).

Generally speaking, the degradation of the body’s vascular environment can put any person at risk for aneurysms as well. Vascular tone, diminishment of elasticity, and thinning of vasculature can escalate the development of aneurysms (Valencia et al., 2008). The development of blood disorders or structural dilapitation can also lead to the formation of aneurysms (Sadasivan et al., 2013). Hypertension (especially in association with smoking and drinking) is strongly correlated with the formation of aneurysms (Krex et al., 2001).

Behavioral Genesis

Not all aneurysms stem from genetic or developmental causes. Some cerebral aneurysms are volitional or behavioral in origin (Sadasivanet al., 2013). Succinctly, people’s choices and actions can directly lead to the formation of cerebral aneurysms. As Pozzi et al. (2008) state, “The spreading misuse of cocaine, amphetamines, and ecstasy among young people had modified the list of the traditional etiological factors for hemorrhagic stroke” (p. 269).

As one of the significant factors, smoking increases the risk of developing an aneurysm (Chalouhi et al., 2012).Moreover, cigarette smosing is correlated with a high percentage of subarachnoid hemorrhages in the brain (Chalouhi et al., 2012). Not surprisingly, consistent, heavy smoking is strongly associated with cerebral aneurysms (Adamson et al., 1994). Somewhat tragically, although many cigarette labels warn about the dangers of smoking leading to strokes (and clogged arteries), not many labels warn about how smoking promotes the growth of intracranial aneurysms (Juvela et al., 2001).

Another dangerous pastime, drug use can be damaging to the brain’s vascular health and increases one’s risk of developing an aneurysm (Mcevoy et al., 2000). Drugs like cocaine and methamphetamines create a host of hemorrhagic disorders in the brain (Pozzi et al., 2008). Although most drugs are physically harmful regardless of introduction method, intravenous drug use is correlated with a rare but serious risk of intracranial aneurysms (Ares et al., 2018). Even popularly-considered “safe” and “legal” drugs like marijuana still carry dangerous risks because of their effects on the heart and cerebral vasoconstriction (Auger et al., 2020).

A persistent artifact in all cultures, historically, alcohol has long been correlated with the development of cerebral aneurysms (Stampfer et al., 1988). Social drinking patterns (casual, acute, chronic) are integral to possibly cultivating or preventing the development of cerebral aneurysms (Teunissen et al., 1996). Smoking and alcohol could be confounders, since people often do them simultaneously in relaxation or celebration. Speaking again of conflicting physical factors, for women, moderate alchol drinking increases the risk of subarachnoid hemorrhaging but decreases the risk of coronary heart disease and stroke (Stampfer et al., 1988).

Conclusion 

Due to the complex etiology of aneurysms, it is important to know the various congenital, developmental, and volitional forces at work in the human brain and how they may lead to the development of cerebral aneurysms. The causes of cerebral aneurysms can be still somewhat indeterminate; however, there are scientifically acknowledged risks that can lead to their formation and avoidance. These include genetic and congenital factors, normal life development health issues, and poor personal choices such as smoking, alcohol, and drug use. All of these issues can influence the vascular environment of the brain, leading to intracranial aneurysms.

Beyond the physical or health factors concerning cerebral aneurysms, there are key implications for those who embrace the Christian worldview. Regarding the mortal risks associated with cerebral aneurysms, although God does not rejoice when his children suffer physically, the reality of the Fall (when Adam and Eve rebelled and brought sin into this world) carries with it the natural consequence of death. With explicit purpose, the Bible mentions that it is not good that man should live forever in this fragile state (Gen 3:21–23, New International Version). Yet, the Bible also indicates that God does not ultimately want to doom humanity to afflictions such as cerebral aneurysms.

Fortunately, any physical maladies leading up to death that people experience on earth will be rectified and their bodies restored when His followers join God after the Great Judgment (2 Cor 5:1–10, New International Version Bible). In the meantime, human beings are admonished to live good, healthy lives and to depend upon the fruits of God’s wisdom in the Bible (and in the counsel that He gives to the world, in many ways). As God is truth, scientific truths can be embraced and utilized to serve and help others through their suffering. In fact, there is a biblical mandate that people are to love one another (John 13:34, New International Version Bible) and bear each other’s burdens (Galatians 6:2, New International Version Bible).

Therefore, neuropsychological assessments are more than reasonable and beneficial—as long as they do not require Christian professionals to recant their faith or to repent to the inferior, as spelled out in the Old and New Testaments. Within moral limits, medical methods used to treat cerebral aneurysm (that do not come at the cost of another person’s life or through worshipping anyone or thing besides God) are allowed and endorsed in the Bible. Supporting this, one need only look to the Gospel of Luke, the book of Acts, and other writings of the church fathers to learn about this ancient physician who was regularly spoken of and favorably.

Of course, any healing that goes on right now is only temporary, and human beings still must contend with medical maladies like cerebral aneurysms, but soon the Great Physician will heal and comfort all people eternally—another reality evidenced by the miraculous healings of Jesus Christ during His ministry on earth (John 6:2, New International Standard Bible).

References 

Adamson, J., Humphries, S. E., Ostergaard, J. R., Voldby, B., Richards, P., & Powell, J. T. (1994). Are cerebral aneurysms atherosclerotic? Stroke, 25(5), 963–966.

Albornoz, G., Coady, M. A., Roberts, M. R., Davies, R. R., Tranquilli, M., Rizzo, J. A., & Elefteriades, J. A. (2006). Familial thoracic aortic aneurysms and dissections: Incidence, modes of inheritance, and phenotypic patterns. The Annals of Thoracic Surgery, 82(4), 1400-1405.

Ares, W. J., Cabrera, E. A., Desai, S., Zussman, B. M., Kenmuir, C. L., Jovin, T. G., Jadhav, A. P., Gross, B. A., & Jankowitz, B. T. (2018). Intravenous drug use is novel predictor of infectious intracranial aneurysms in patients with ineffective endocarditis. World Neurosurgery, 118, e8113–e817.

Auger, N., Paradis, G., Low, N., Ayoub, A., He, S., & Potter, B. J. (2020). Canabis use disorder and the future risk of cardiovascular disease in parous women: A longitudinal cohort study. BMC Medicine, 18(1), 328. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12916-020-01804-6

Bacigaluppi, S., Piccinelli, M., Antiga, L., Veneziani, A., Passerini, T., Rampini, P., Zavanone, M., Severi, P., Tredici, G., Zona, G., Krings, T., Boccardi, E., & Penco, S., & Fontanella, M. (2014). Factors affecting formation and rupture of intracranial saccular aneurysms. Neurosurgery Review, 37(1), 1–14. doi: 10.1007/s10143-013-0501-y

Benoit, B. G., & Wortzman, G. (1973). Traumatic cerebral aneurysms: Clinical features and natural history. Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery, and Psychiatry, 36(1), 127–138.

Bor, A. S., Velthuis, B. K., Majoie, C. B., & Rinkel, G. J. (2008). Configuration of intracranial arteries and development of aneurysms: A follow-up study. Neurology, 70, 700–705.

Chalouhi, N., Ali, M. S., Starke, R. M., Jabbour, P. M., Tjoumakaris, S. I., Gonzalez, L. F., Rosenwasser, R. H., Koch, W. J., & Dumont, A. S. (2012). Cigarette smoke and inflammation: Role in cerebral aneurysm formation and rupture. Mediators of Inflammation, 2012, 1–12. https://doi.org/10.1155/2012/271582

Etminan, N., & Rinkel, G. J. E. (2015). Cerebral aneurysms: Cerebral aneurysm guidelines—more guidance needed. Nature Reviews. Neurology, 11(9), 490-491. http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1038/nrneurol.2015.146

Hitchcock, E., & Gibson, W. T. (2017). A review of the genetics of intracranial berry aneurysms and implications for genetic counseling. Journal of Genetic Counseling, 26(1), 21–31. http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1007/s10897-016-0029-8

Hokari, M., Kuroda, S., Nakayama, N., Houkin, K., Ishikawa, T., & Kamiyama, H. (2013). Long-term prognosis in patients with clipped unruptured cerebral aneurysms―increased cerebrovascular events in patients with surgically treated unruptured aneurysms. Neurosurgical Review 36, 567–572 (2013). https://doi-org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1007/s10143-013-0465-y

Kondo, S., Hashimoto, N., Kikuchi, H., Hazama, F., Nagata, Izumi, & Kataoka, H. (1997). Cerebral aneurysms arising at nonbranching sites. Stroke, 28(2), 398–404.

Krex, D., Schackert, H. K., & Schackert, G. (2001). Genesis of cerebral aneurysms—An update. Acta Neurochirurgica (Wien), 143(5), 429–448.

Matsumura, M., Wada, H., & Nojiri, K. (1985). Persistent primitive trigeminal artery, cavum septi pellucidi, and associated cerebral aneurysm in a patient with polycystic kidney disease: Case report. Neurosurgery, 16(3), 395-397. Retrieved from http://ovidsp.ovid.com/ovidweb.cgi?T=JS&PAGE=reference&D=ovfta&NEWS=N&AN=00006123-198503000-00020.

Mcevoy, N. D., Kitchen, D. G., & Thomas, A. W. (2000). Intracerebral haemorrhage and drug abuse in young adults. British Journal of Neurosurgery, 14(5), 449–454.

New International Version Bible. (2011). https://www.thenivbible.com

Olubajo, F., Kaliaperumal, C., & Choudhari, K. A. (2020). Vascular Ehlers-Danlos syndrome: Literature review and surgical management of intracranial vascular complications. Clinical Neurology and Neurosurgery, 193, 1–6.http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1016/j.clineuro.2020.105775

Pozzi, M., Roccatagliata, D., & Sterzi, R. (2008). Drug abuse and intracranial hemorrhage. Neurological Sciences, 29, 269–270. http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1007/s10072-008-0960-z

Raquejo, F., Ceciliano, A., Cardenas, R., Villasante, F., Jaimovich, R., & Zuccaro, G. (2010). Cerebral aneurysms in children: Are we talking about a single pathological entity? Official Journal of the International Society for Pediatric Neurosurgery, 26(10), 1329–1335. https://doi.org/10.1007/z00381-010-1205-z

Sadasivan, C., Fiorella, D. J., Woo, H. H., & Lieber, B. B. (2013). Physical factors effecting cerebral aneurysm pathophysiology. Annals of Biomedical Engineering, 41(7), 1347–1365. http://dx.doi.org.ezproxy.liberty.edu/10.1007/s10439-013-0800-z

Stampfer, M. J., Colditz, G. A., Willett, W. C., Speizer, F. E., & Hennekens, C. H. (1988). A prospective study of moderate alcohol consumption and the risk of coronary disease and stroke in women. New England Journal of Medicine, 319, 267–273.

Sundt, T. M. (2019). “Silent Killer” or victim of mistaken identity. The Journal of Thoracic and Cardiovascular Surgery, 157(5), 239.

Tanweer, O., Wilson, T. A., Metaxa, E., Riina, H. A., & Meng, H. (2014). A comparative review of the hemodynamics and pathogenesis of cerebral and abdominal aortic aneurysms: Lessons to learn from each other. Journal of Cerebrovascular and Endovascular Neurosurgery, 16(4), 335–349. https://doi.org/10.7461/jcen.2014.16.4.335

Valencia, A., Morales, H., Rivera, R., Bravo, E., & Galvez, M. (2008). Blood flow dynamics in patient-specific cerebral aneurysm models: The relationship between wall shear stress and aneurysm area index. Medical Engineering & Physics, 30(3), 329–340. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.medengphy.2007.04.011.

Wityk, R. J., Zanferrari, C., & Oppenheimer, S. (2002). Neurovascular complications of Marfan syndrome. Stroke, 33(3), 680–684.

Woodhall, B., Odom, G. L., Bloor, B. M., & Golden, J. (1952). Direct measurement of intravascular pressure in components of the circle of Willis: A contribution to the surgery of congenital cerebral aneurysms and vascular anomalies of the brain. Annals of Surgery, 135(6), 911–922. https://doi.org/10.1097/00000658-195206000-00017

Yano, K., Reed, D. M., & Maclean, C. J. (1989). Serum cholesterol and hemorrhagic stroke in the Honolulu Heart Program. Stroke, 20(11), 1460–1465.

Zhou, S., Dion, P. A., & Rouleau, G. A. (2018). Genetics of intracranial aneurysms. Stroke, 49(3), 780–­787.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

My Original PhD Proposal (2003): Revealing Sacro-Egoism's Presence in the West

In 1534, King Henry VIII of England broke with the Roman Catholic Church in order to establish the Church of England.  Since that momentous event, serious and concerted effort over the centuries has gone into maintaining and cultivating the existence of the Anglican Church.  Yet, despite such endeavors, BBC News recently reported that since 1983 Anglican Church membership has dropped by 40 percent.[1] 

This dramatic decline has brought into question the practices and realities of the state-established church both in England and abroad.  In the exploration of this matter, many sociologists and theologians have offered theories regarding England’s dwindling church numbers.  In The Churching of America: 1776-1990, Roger Finke and Rodney Stark state, “There is ample evidence that in societies with putative monopoly faiths, religious indifference, not piety, is rife.”[2]  Anglican Church numbers appear to give this idea credence.

Interestingly, though, thousands of miles away in western America, a vastly different religious environment exists in the state of Oregon.  After its inclusion into the Union in 1849, Oregon never established a state church and has had a diverse religious offering for its citizens from which to choose.  Despite this situation, according to Stark’s own research,[3] Oregon has the highest number of acknowledged atheists and non-Christians in the United States and is one of the least churched states in America.  This appears to question the legitimacy of Finke and Stark’s own assertions.  Sociologists like Steve Bruce[4] and studies like “Faith Communities Today”[5] by the Hartford Institute for Religion Research further offer an alternative evaluation of the religious scene today and in the past.

With this in mind, the aim of this study will be threefold.  First, it will examine the religious environment surrounding the Church of England and its efforts to maintain its dominance and relevance in England throughout the nineteenth century to the present.  Second, it will examine the mixed religious environment in Oregon and its evolution from its inclusion into the Union to its present-day liberalism.  Last, it will examine and analyze the sociological effects of church autonomy looking to the historical patterns of the Anglican Church and other pivotal denominations both in England and in Oregon.

The advantage of this study will be in the plethora of material to utilize for research.  Besides drawing from the valuable resources of modern Anglican, Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, and Quaker Church historians, primary recorded documents of English law, and various personal journals will be examined.  There will also be an opportunity to incorporate sociological resources in this venture. 

Although (eventually) it will be necessary to travel to Birmingham (UK) to engage in crucial and quintessential research that can only be done in England, much preliminary work can be accomplished in the Portland, Oregon area.  Within thirty minutes of each other lie four different libraries to exploit in researching this topic—George Fox University (both in Newberg and at the Portland Center), Western Baptist Seminary, and Mt. Angel Catholic Seminary.  Further resources for study may also be found at the numerous private and public universities and colleges nearby. This makes this location ideal for initial research and study.

The sociology of religion is far more than just numbers and statistics.  Quaker theologian John Punshon has stated, “Christianity is not isolated from the cultures that surround it; it often reflects the tensions and conflicts of those cultures.”[6]  The state of religion today in Oregon and England appear to mirror this truth.  Hopefully, research on this topic will provide a clearer understanding of how and why church influence in society has waxed and waned over the years.

[1] BBC News, UK is 'losing' its religion <http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/1043986.stm>

[2] Roger Finke and Rodney Stark, Churching of America (New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1992), 19.

[3] <http://www.socstark.com>

[4] Steve Bruce, Religion, Modernity, and Postmodernity (Oxford,: Blackwell, 1998).

[5] <http://fact.hartsem.edu/>

[6] John Punshon, Reasons for Hope (Indiana: Friends United, 2001), 25-26.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

LABORING FOR THE GREAT HARVEST: BEST FRIENDS’ MISSIONARY POLICY AND PRACTICES

The famous British missionary to China, Hudson Taylor, is often credited with the assertion, “The Great Commission is not an option to be considered; it is a command to be obeyed.”[1] Since the dawn of Christianity, this truism has been embraced (and chased) by innumerable Christians, including the earliest Quaker missionaries in the seventeenth century and continuing even unto this very day.

Their life stories and missional testimonies provide an instrumental glimpse into the policies and practices that helped them obey Jesus’s commandment to “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation” (Mark 16:15).[2] From a deep inspection of their writings, seven key themes and strategies emerge through their biblical approaches to evangelism, which will be shared in the essay to follow.

They Were Called 

First, they all heard God bidding them to evangelize abroad. The apostle Peter affirmed their perceptions in the beginning of the Jesus movement, proclaiming, “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Pet 2:9). This was not lost on Quakerism’s founder, George Fox, who also heard and obeyed God’s calling for him. Quaker Biographer Christina Jones states,

A sense of mission permeated the life and thought of early Quakerism. From the moment George Fox heard the voice say, “There is one, even Christ Jesus who can speak to thy condition,” until his death more than forty years later, he never ceased to share the great truth with others. His followers, likewise, were filled with a burning desire to tell it to all men.[3]

Quaker historian Walter Williams further asserts, “The driving motive of all [missionary Esther Butler’s] study was the heaven-born desire that she might be the better able to set forth the unsearchable riches of Christ.”[4] Virginia Miller states, “In these years of pioneer ministry, it was evident that the foundation of a Christ-centered church was laid out by the Holy Spirit,”[5] and Friends’ missionaries have been equally drawn throughout the centuries of missions. 

They Were Committed 

Second, once called, the best missionary course of action for many Quakers was unwavering commitment, their consciences and actions bearing witness. This aligns well with the apostle Paul exhortation: “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a worker who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Tim 2:15).

Williams elaborates on their dedication, sharing, “[The missionary Liu] is a preacher of the Gospel. He is not eloquent. He is not learned. He is not always tactful. But he is faithful, he is persistent, he is patient.”[6] Introducing readers to her missionary father in Africa, Edna Chilson explains,

Had he not been a man of a cheerful disposition and an optimistic spirit, he would have been crushed with the responsibility he carried. But he had learned to let his Burden-bearer take the load and he patiently worked away, completing each task as rapidly as possible so as to undertake the next waiting to be done.[7]

Quaker professor and college president David L. Johns concludes it well: “But mission is more than a question of geography, it is a question of theological orientation and commitment to proclamation and evangelism.”[8] 

They Were Christ-Centered 

Third, the best Quaker missionaries were completely centered on sharing the one who saved them from death and gave them a new, holy charge in life—Jesus Christ. Likewise, the apostle Paul confesses, “We proclaim Him, admonishing every person and teaching every person with all wisdom, so that we may present every person complete in Christ” (Col 1:28).

American Quaker and former United Meeting clerk Paul Enyart spells it out clearly: “Evangelism is understood to mean the direct proclamation of the Gospel to the unconverted in such a way that they will be confronted with the claims of Christ and be persuaded to accept Him as Savior and Lord, serving Him within the fellowship of the Church.”[9] Johns clarifies, “The community of faith is to be engaged in mission, in the kerygmatic message of Jesus Christ, in acts of service to humanity, and in the fellowship of the body of Christ. Christian mission is unapologetically Christian, that is, particularistic, convinced of the hope of the Gospel.”[10]

Chilson further acknowledges Christ’s importance for their African labor: “We were on a mission for The King; the whole matter was in His hands: He had been in it from the beginning; He would see us through. It was for us to keep in His will and follow His guidance.”[11]

They Were Careful

Fourth, the best took the eternal ramifications of their calling seriously and purposefully, affirming the apostle Paul’s admonitions to his own church members/ambassadors: “So then, be careful how you walk, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil” (Eph 5:15–16).

In the same way, Enyart exhorts, “We are called to be faithful stewards of the Gospel, and as such we should choose our field of labor wisely. Our resources should be used in the place where they will bring the greatest returns in men and women brought to faith in Christ.”[12] Nordyke further advises, “Thus, when a church planter encounters a group of people, he needs to ask himself what needs the people are struggling to meet. This will give an indication of the type of help that the church should give the people.”[13] 

They Were Compassionate

Fifth, the best Quaker missionaries keep the model of Jesus Christ’s deference and tenderness for others in mind, who “had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34). Just as the apostle Paul urged, they sought to “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Eph 4:32).

Nixon affirms this, noting, “Christian missionaries, like their contemporaries, are also influenced by compassion, by the desire to be recognized, by the love of adventure, and by other strong personalities. However, in the final analysis, the Christian missionary is constrained by the love of Christ.”[14] Williams notes, “[Missionary Lenna Stanley’s] heart, naturally sympathetic, had been made so tender and sensitive to human need by the sweet grace of Christ that for her to live in China meant to carry on her heart a great load of suffering.”[15] Pumphrey confesses his admiration for those in God’s service, stating,

I bless God for the love that goes out to the poor and wretched, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, teaching the ignorant, caring for the fatherless, the widow and the stranger, relieving those who are afflicted in mind, body or estate; but let us not forget that the truest philanthropy reaches forth to the soul of our brother, seeking to rescue him from sin and bring him in repentance and faith to the Saviour's feet.[16] 

They Were Creative 

Sixth, the wisest of Quaker missionaries sought new and innovative methods of sharing the original, superlative Gospel message in ways that would resonate with the foreign nationals and indigenous peoples. The apostle Paul also explains,

Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible.  . . . I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings” (1 Cor 3:19–23).

Quaker minister and activist Levinus Painter remarks, “Wise teachers are needed, both African and from overseas, who can help to preserve the elements of lasting value in the old culture and at the same time guide the younger generation in adapting the external forms of Christianity to fit their own needs.”[17] Professor Stansell further offers a future glimpse:

I will highlight three that I feel will be important in coming decades: 1) [Asian Quakers] capacity to cross cultures and to break out of geo-political and ethnic boxes to obey Christ’s commission to proclaim peace with God and fellow humans; 2) their engagement with spiritual needs in culturally appropriate ways; and 3) their concerns to live out the love of Jesus Christ among the poor, oppressed and marginalized through ministries of compassion.[18] 

They Were Communal 

Finally, the best Quaker missions’ policies and practices culminated in Christian unity and holy community. Roberts notes, “In these ways, the Christians of Barrow, the Kobuk, the Noatak, the Selawik, and the Buckland rivers were united in efforts to preserve in writing not only their culture of the past but also the biblical Word, which they shared in common with all children of the Light.”[19] Stansell further shares, “Yet these [Quaker missionaries] were respected by their peers, frequently mingled in interdenominational circles, and each in their way influenced a wider circle of mission leaders.”[20] Thus, missionaries were less concerned about the people solely aligning with the Quaker denomination but rather that all people would identify with Christ of the Bible—their Savior and Lord—so that their lives would be changed forever.

It is just as the apostle Paul reminded the church in Galatia:

So, in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise” (Gal 3:26–29). 

This message is still equally true today. Believers are to share the Good News to the worldly, superstitious, Pagan, misguided, and hurting because God first shared the Good News to us in our own fleshly mires. And once called, we too are required to be committed, careful, compassionate, creative, and Christ-centered with whomever we encounter, so that we can encourage them to join the family of God—not as slaves, but as brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ. The best Quaker policies and practice did just that, and because of it, untold myriads of lost sheep were found and eternally reunited with the Good Shepherd (and all heaven cheered).  

Bibliography

Chilson, Edna H. Ambassador of the King. Newberg: Barclay, 2009.

Enyart, Paul. Friends in Central America: A History of Church Growth. South Pasadena: William Carey Library, 1970.

Jones, Christina. American Friends in World Missions. Eigin: Brethren, 1946.

Miller, Virginia. His Story: 1902–2002. Whittier: Evangelical Friends Southwest, 2002.

“Missionary Bios: Hudson Taylor.” Missions Box (2015). https://missionsbox.org/missionary-bio/hudson-taylor/.

Nixon, E. Hanna. A Century of Planting: A History of American Friends in India. Canton: Friends Foreign Missionary Society, 1985.

Nordyke, Quentin. Animistic Aymaras and Church Growth. Newberg: Barclay, 1972.

Painter, Levinus. Hill of Vision: The Story of the Quaker movement in East Africa, 1902-1965. Kitale: East Africa Yearly Meeting of Friends, 1966.

Pumphrey, Stanley. Friends Missions. Richmond: Friends’ Review, 1880.

Roberts, Arthur. Tomorrow is Growing Old: Stories of the Quakers in Alaska. Newberg: Barclay, 1978.

Stansell, Ron. “Friends in India and Asia.” Quaker Religious Thought 123–24, no. 11 (2014): 107–114.

___. Missions by the Spirit: Learning from Quaker Examples. Newberg: Barclay, 2009.

Williams, Walter. Ohio Friends in the Land of Sinim. Mt. Gilead: Friends Foreign Missionary Board of Ohio Yearly Meeting, 1925.

[1] “Missionary Bios: Hudson Taylor,” Missions Box (2015); https://missionsbox.org/missionary-bio/hudson-taylor/.

[2] All scriptures are taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE (NASB).

[3] Christina Jones, American Friends in World Missions (Eigin: Brethren, 1946), 11.

[4] Walter Williams, Ohio Friends in the Land of Sinim (Mt. Gilead: Friends Foreign Missionary Board of Ohio Yearly Meeting, 1925), 25.

[5] Virginia Miller, His Story: 1902–2002 (Whittier: Evangelical Friends Southwest, 2002), 3.

[6] Williams, Ohio Friends in the Land of Sinim, 170.

[7] Edna H. Chilson, Ambassador of the King (Newberg: Barclay, 2009), 199.

[8] David L. Johns, “Everett L. Cattell and a Theology of Christian Missions,” Quaker Religious Thought 78, no. 2 (1992): 7.

[9] Paul Enyart, Friends in Central America: A History of Church Growth (South Pasadena: William Carey Library, 1970), 89.

[10] Johns, “Everett L. Cattell,” 13.

[11] Chilson, Ambassador of the King, 189.

[12] Enyart, Friends in Central America, 95.

[13] Quentin Nordyke, Animistic Aymaras and Church Growth (Newberg: Barclay, 1972), 159.

[14] E. Hanna Nixon, A Century of Planting: A History of American Friends in India (Canton: Friends Foreign Missionary Society, 1985), xiii–xiv.

[15] Williams, Ohio Friends, 35.

[16] Stanley Pumphrey, Friends Missions (Richmond: Friends’ Review, 1880), 7.

[17] Levinus Painter, Hill of Vision: The Story of the Quaker movement in East Africa, 1902-1965 (Kitale: East Africa Yearly Meeting of Friends, 1966), 35.

[18] Ron Stansell, “Friends in India and Asia,” Quaker Religious Thought 123–24, no. 11 (2014): 111–12.

[19] Arthur Roberts, Tomorrow is Growing Old: Stories of the Quakers in Alaska (Newberg: Barclay, 1978), 390.

[20] Ron Stansell, Missions by the Spirit: Learning from Quaker Examples (Newberg: Barclay, 2009), 3.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)

QUALITATIVE VERSUS QUANTITATIVE MISSIONS: AN ANALYSIS OF FRIENDS MISSIONAL WORK IN BOLIVIA

From its genesis, Quakerism has centered on obeying the Great Commission of Jesus Christ in Matthew 28:19–20[1] to “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to follow all that I commanded you.” In fact, in chapter one of his journal, Quaker founder George Fox confessed,

The Lord commanded me to go abroad into the world, which was like a briery, thorny wilderness; and when I came, in the Lord’s mighty power, with the word of life into the world, the world swelled and made a noise like the great raging waves of the sea. Priests and professors, magistrates and people, were all like a sea when I came to proclaim the day of the Lord amongst them, and to preach repentance to them. I was sent to turn people from darkness to the light, that, they might receive Christ Jesus: for, to as many as should receive Him in His light, I saw that He would give power to become the sons of God; which I had obtained by receiving Christ.

Inspired by Fox’s earnest testimony and fervent praxis (and God’s affirmation of their evangelistic yearnings), other early Friends followed suit and began sharing the Gospel in England and the American colonies in the seventeenth century. By the end of the twentieth century, though, Quaker missionaries had greatly expanded their missionary efforts, traveling to the four corners of the globe, including remote regions of Africa, India, China, and North America (as well as in South and Central America) to establish the Gospel among the nationals and indigenous peoples.[2] Not least of which, Bolivia found itself the focus of much missionary enterprise by William Abel,[3] Juan Ayllon,[4] Tomassa Valle,[5] Jack Willcuts,[6] and other important Central American missionaries.

Just like George Fox, these brave and dedicated Friends felt the Holy Spirit’s calling in their lives and went specifically to Bolivia to help its people “[receive] His word and [find] rest to their troubled souls.”[7] Their evangelism was not random nor skewed; rather, they approached missions work, carefully—in quantitative and qualitative ways. Nordyke explains,

There are three fundamental types of quantitative church growth: biological, transfer, and conversion. Biological means growth through the children born to the church families . . . Transfer growth means the members of one church transferring to another church . . . Conversion growth is winning new people from the world.[8] 

Perhaps from their insiders’ perspective (and personal, real-life observations), these missionaries saw these options played out, regularly, and acted upon them, productively.

Thus, Thomas notes of missionary Carroll Tamplin’s Bolivian excursions,

The ministry focus in the first half of the 1930s continued to be in evangelism, both on the part of the mission and on the part of the growing body of national workers, usually working together. Sometimes, Tamplin and the workers he was training visited places where they had contacts and a small group of believers. Sometimes, they set out on their own and entered completely unreached areas.[9]

In other words, the statistical, quantitative focus was on how many, how often, where, and how big—showing the breadth of the missionary milieu.

Yet, regarding qualitative discipleship growth of the nationals, Nordyke remarks,

By this [unnamed missionary] means the deepening of a Christian's spiritual experience, resulting in the bringing of new believers into a living relationship with Jesus Christ and with other Christians . . . He felt it was more important to win a few and have them become “perfect” Christians than to be the poor example he felt some other groups were because their rapidly growing churches were filled with new Christians.[10]

Fleshing this concept out even further, regarding Willcuts’ veteran conclusions on missional church growth, Stansell writes, “In Bolivia, God's rule through his people happened when people turned to Christ, when better agriculture was practiced, when education was shared, and when Aymara men and women were empowered by God to raise their faces and hearts toward God in dignity and grace.”[11] In other words, qualitative growth is more interested in individual or small group investment and holistic development, which indicates the spiritual depth or character of the people, rather than in mere numbers.

The truth of the matter assuredly lies somewhere between these two approaches. Thomas’ depiction of Ayllon’s La Paz congregation as “A strong preaching ministry, outreach into surrounding communities, the gradual development of local leadership, discipleship through Sunday school and Bible training classes, and general education classes for literacy were all aspects of this congregation from the beginning”[12]—seems to affirm missional hopes, both quantitatively and qualitatively. Ayllon’s congregation was a place where the multitudes’ needs were voiced and served (Acts 2:42–47). It also was a place that attracted many people for its “Good News” that changed their lives forever, through the God of the universe (and his followers) who actually saw them, touched them, and called them by name. Instead of a contrived façade of faith, it was an organic reservoir of divine love and authentic believers of Christ.[13]

Although physical churches are helpful to the Great Commission, the apostle Paul exhorted his readers, “For weare God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building” (1 Cor 3:9). So, while it is good to construct churches, it is better thing to establish disciples, especially since Jesus instructed his Disciples, “For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst” (Matt 18:20).

Portland Pastor Frank Damazio sums it up well when he writes,

A church with no roof and no walls has no obstructions standing in the way of a free flow of God's love, forgiveness, power and blessings. It is a church with open heavens and intercessory prayer. It is not isolated from the unsaved and the unchurched. There is an unobstructed flow of the gospel to the multitudes. This is the church that goes into the highways and the hedges and compels people to come in so that God's house will be filled (see Luke 14:23).[14] 

Truly, the sagacious missions work in Bolivia over the past hundred years has shown that the size of a congregation is less important (or evangelistically effective) than the depths of its love for God and others.

Bibliography

Damazio, Frank. Strategic Church: A Lie-changing Church in an Ever-changing Culture. Ventura: Regal, 2012.

Nordyke, Quentin. Animistic Aymaras and Church Growth. Newberg: Barclay, 1972.

Thomas, Nancy J. A Long Walk, a Gradual Ascent: The Story of the Bolivian Friends Church in Its Context of Conflict. Eugene: Wipf and Stock, 2019.

Stansell, Ron. Missions by the Spirit: Learning from Quaker Examples. Newberg: Barclay, 2009.

[1] All scriptures are taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE (NASB).

[2] Ron Stansell, Missions by the Spirit: Learning from Quaker Examples (Newberg: Barclay, 2009), 10.

[3] Nancy J. Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent: The Story of the Bolivian Friends Church in Its Context of Conflict (Eugene: Wipf and Stock, 2019), 17.

[4] Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent, 21.

[5] Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent, 25.

[6] Stansell, Missions by the Spirit, 209.

[7] Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent, 15.

[8] Quentin Nordyke, Animistic Aymaras and Church Growth (Newberg: Barclay, 1972), 152–53.

[9] Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent, 30.

[10]  Nordyke, Animistic Aymaras and Church Growth, 161.

[11] Stansell, Missions by the Spirit, 227.

[12] Thomas, A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent, 36.

[13] Nordyke, Animistic Aymaras and Church, 182.

[14] Frank Damazio, Strategic Church: A Life-changing Church in an Ever-changing Culture (Ventura: Regal, 2012), 233.

(Copyright by John S. Knox, 2025)