2014 Summer Reading List

I have discovered a chronic problem in my life: Difficulty making time to read. During the fall and spring terms, I'm overrun with grading, advising, committee work, meetings, managing up, fits and spurts of research & writing---and oh yeah, that whole teaching thing forms the center of it all. Today I discovered that I had ~3 months worth of articles and journal TOCs piled up in my task list.

I'd like to think this problem is localized to the fall and spring terms, but the spring term ended a month ago. The problem is, if I view fall and spring as burdens and summer as reprieves, I won't make time for important things, like reading articles outside of my immediate needs.

So, I'm going to try something different: I'm going to blog about what I read this summer. Perhaps by turning my desire to read into a project, I'll actually schedule it instead of letting it fill in the gaps. Here are the 13 papers currently on my list, and a brief explanation of why I'm interested in them.

• The Advanced Lab: Hallmark of an Outstanding Undergraduate Program (Reichert, AJP 82 3, 2014). JU Physics currently has no advanced lab, and I'm looking to better incorporate research skills into our curriculum.
• Thermodynamics of bread baking: A two-state model (Zurcher, AJP 82 224, 2014). Mmm... whole wheat physics...
• A model for incorporating computation without changing the course: An example from middle-division classical mechanics (Caballero & Pollock, AJP 82 231, 2014). Computational physics from the department that brought us the CLASS? #SignMeUp.
• Advantages of using a logarithmic scale in pressure-volume diagrams for Carnot and other heat engine cycles (AJP Shieh & Kan, AJP 82 306, 2014). We don't use log scales enough in undergraduate physics & engineering education, and we don't show where the Carnot efficiency comes from clearly enough. 
• Matrix Mechanics of the infinite square well and the equivalence proofs of Schrodinger and von Neumann (Prentis & Ty, AJP 82 6 2014). I'm hoping to better develop students' understanding of the relationship between the two formulations of quantum mechanics. If I can do so with the first problem we solve, hooray!
• A guide to hunting periodic three-body orbits (Suvakov & Dmitrasinovi, AJP 82 609 2014). A promising computational physics application for my students to work through.
• Writing Science Fiction Stories to Motivate Analysis of Journal Articles (Kontur, http://arxiv.org/ftp/arxiv/papers/1403/1403.2435.pdf). Sounds promising!
• How physics instruction impacts students' beliefs about learning physics (Madsen, McKagan, & Sayre, http://arxiv.org/ftp/arxiv/papers/1403/1403.6522.pdf). This paper is a meta-analysis of many studies using the CLASS.
• Teaching and physics education research: Bridging the gap (Fraser et al, Rep. Prog. Phys. 77, 2014). I'd like to learn more about encouraging faculty to adopt engaged learning practices.
• A Guided Inquiry on Hubble Plots and the Big Bang (Forringer, TPT 52 199, 2014). I'm hoping to use this in class, and in my discussions with YECists at church.
• The Confirmation of the Inverse Square Law Using Diffraction Gratings (Papacosta & Linscheid, TPT 52 243, 2014). I'll be teaching an intro-level optics course this fall, and currently don't do anything experimental with the inverse square law.
• Motivating Students to Do Homework (Kontur & Terry, TPT 52 295, 2014). Who doesn't have this problem?
• Teaching labs the Compass Way (Gandhi et al, http://arxiv.org/pdf/1404.6831v1.pdf). I'd like to learn how to make my labs into more authentic research experiences.

So, I have 11 weeks of summer left, so if I post my thoughts about 1-2 articles each week, I'll be through my entire list (just in time to start another...).

What does it mean to have tenure?

On May 2, 2014, I was granted tenure at Jacksonville University. This accomplishment represents five years of service to JU (at the culmination of 28 years of academic progress) and means a great deal to my future. I am very thankful to my family and friends (especially Amy Lane, who sits at the intersection of the two) for their support, encouragement, and patience. I am also thankful to my colleagues on JU's faculty and administration for their collaboration and mentorship---and, of course, for voting to grant me tenure!

As I've discussed this upcoming decision with many over the last several years, I've learned that many people don't understand what tenure is, why it exists, or how it is granted.

What is tenure?

I think a very concise description of tenure is found in JU's faculty by-laws: "The faculty member does not bear the burden to justify retention." Tenure is the relief of a faculty member having to prove the worthwhileness of her continued employment at the institution. It is the university making an indefinite commitment to retain the faculty member based on his already established worth and promise for the future; granting tenure is the university declaring that it wants the faculty member to be a staple of the community. In short, tenure is job security, of the sort not found in almost any other field or industry.

Why is tenure?

This description typically produces two types of responses: "Where can I sign up?!" or "That's not good!" Both of these responses come from the perception that tenure is security for the sake of comfort, based on the observation of what is sometimes the unfortunate result of tenure: Lackluster output.

Let me describe tenure in a way that is both more positive and more accurate to what universities intend it to be: The freedom to make mistakes.

Over the last five years, I have had to demonstrate my success in teaching, scholarship, and university service (which some, including me, would like to change to "Service and Leadership"). In doing so, I needed to stick to what I knew would work: Proven engaged teaching strategies (modified just enough to demonstrate innovation), promising research avenues (with sufficiently short turnaround time to produce publications by my tenure application date), and readily available service and leadership roles. If I ventured too far off the beaten path, I ran the risk of poor teaching evaluations, a lackluster research record, and being a faceless name on campus. That's not to say I couldn't (or didn't) take any risks at all, but in short, I had to demonstrate excellence and be able to clearly explain any failures.

I no longer have that burden. I am now free to make mistakes.

I am now free to innovatively adjust the delivery of my courses, and not have to fear the student reviews if the reforms misfire. Why? Because I have demonstrated that I can make a teaching plan based on proven learning principles.

I am now free to pursue unexplored or underdeveloped areas of research, and not have to obsess over my publication record. Why? Because I have demonstrated that I can plan, execute, and evaluate quality research.

I am now free to take on the service and leadership roles that I find to be important, and not feel guilty about saying no to other opportunities. Why? Because I have demonstrated my commitment to JU.

Tenure, in short, is a safety net; it allows the tenured faculty member to try stunts that would otherwise be potentially dangerous without it.

How is tenure granted?

I hope you see what a huge commitment tenure is on the part of the granting institution! Tenure is a decision by, quite literally, the entire university: One's closest colleagues, multiple levels of supervisors, a university-wide committee, and ultimately the President and Board of Trustees all have a say in the decision, and each looks at the tenure candidate with a critical eye toward the care of the university's students. This multi-layered criticality is why it takes so long for tenure decisions to comes through; I applied in October 2013 and just heard the final decision in May!

I hope this description has been helpful for you to be able to celebrate with recently tenured faculty members and to support pre-tenure faculty members.

Why the Derek/Sandra breakup makes me sad, and why that probably means I still need to grow up

It was my junior year of college. I lived with three other Christian guys in an apartment somewhere north of where I sit right now. We spent many a late night over pancakes (during which we may or may not have felt like coffee), learning about how love is different than you'd think, and though none of us was expecting a postcard from anywhere, we were each ready to make a daring escape into the mistake of our lives.

We found significant consolation for the loneliness that we all felt in our inescapable fellowship and the brooding-yet-hopeful music that Derek Webb brought to us in our canon of Caedmon's Call albums. Derek, we felt in our hearts, understood us and reminded us of God's faithfulness. His lyrics, chords, and tempos taught us that it was okay to not feel okay, and that we can be okay with that.

Today, each of us is married (and, I suspect, would do so all over again), and I'm glad we learned in college to be okay with not being okay, because it's not okay to think that marriage makes everything okay. And when I need a reminder of that, I just turn my music player to my "Caedmon's Extended Call" playlist (including Caedmon's, Derek Webb solo, and The Normals).

Yesterday, Derek publicly announced his divorce, and I found myself feeling extremely sad. Perhaps it's the culmination of a heavy week semester pre-tenure run 27 years of academic progress, and this news finally prompted me to sit down and show some feels.

But also, perhaps this sadness is a sign that I still need to grow up a little.

I know I easily transition from finding comfort in music to living vicariously through it, and from identifying with music to letting it inform my identity. Maybe I still need to grow up and learn to make my own kind of music, and be okay with how it sounds.

One Spark Science Projects: Post-Game Analysis

Last week I had the amazing experience of serving as a science category juror at One Spark, the world's crowdfunding festival, here in Jacksonville. The competition among the science projects was intense, with the top project winning by a neuron. There were many projects deserving of funding and support, and our decision as jurors was very difficult, so (with my juror duties now concluded, and independently of One Spark and my fellow jurors whose analysis may be different than mine presented here) I thought I'd take this opportunity to describe some of these amazing projects.

Let's start with the three category finalists: How do you choose between neurologists & programmers curing Alzheimer's, exciting teachers developing an innovative learning space, and a 17-year-old building piezoelectric generators for remote sensors? It was not an easy decision, as...

• All three projects demonstrated tremendously refined expertise and qualifications for their proposed projects.
• All three creators have demonstrated success---including Cognitive Clubhouse's project leader being the second-grade teacher of the 17-year-old finalist! ("I told you I make science fun!" she shouted gladly during the Closing Ceremony.)
• All three creators presented specific plans for how to use their potential winnings---including the $10,000 we were to award.
• All three projects held promise for the two big deliverables scientists look for in any undertaking: Intellectual Merit (Will the proposed activities help advance human knowledge?) and Broader Impacts (Will the proposed activities bring practical benefits to society?). 
• All three creator teams communicated their ideas well and flourished under scrutinizing questions from the jurors.
• I found all three projects to be exciting ventures that I hope will succeed.

Even assembling these three finalists was a difficult decision. Although we ultimately agreed that these three projects came out on top, it was a tough competition among other well-developed and exciting projects, listed here as an unofficial Honorable Mention:

• Dragonfly Revival. This public awareness campaign is seeking to help prevent opioid overdose deaths.
• Sucralose Research. That artificial sweetener you're consuming may be zero calorie, but it also may be killing the good bacteria that live in your stomach.
• TruVitalZoo. This revolutionary project will enable zoo veterinarians to remotely measure vital signs of animals. Did you know you can't just walk up to a lion with a stethoscope? With TruVitals products, you can measure heart rate, respiration, and movement without having to approach the animal.
• The Wave Robber. This project presents a simple device that not only prevents coastal erosion but helps to rebuild shorelines in as little as a year.

Our juror results differed from the rankings by crowd vote, the top three of which included two aquariums and a community kitchen. Such a variety of awards is, I think, a reason One Spark's leadership decided to institute juror awards, and so I hope they'll continue to invite jurors to participate. These are three great projects and I hope to visit their final products some day soon!

So, what were your favorite projects?

Measuring Importance

I'm sure we're almost all familiar with the Urgent versus Important paradigm that has helped numerous professionals and students manage their time and energy. It's a very useful tool, and one that I rely on very heavily during the fall and spring terms.

However, I find it isn't as helpful when considering my summer activities, or my professional trajectory, in general. Over the summer, when there are no class or committee meetings to prepare for, everything is important and almost nothing is urgent. Similarly, when I look at the time I have each semester or each year to spend on research projects and writing, the urgent items (grading, answering e-mail) is already scheduled. The problem I run into is choosing between important things.

I ran into this same problem this week, when I took some time (during Spring Break, grumble grumble) to figure out my goals and commitments for the summer. I needed a way to distinguish between what I absolutely had to accomplish, what I wanted to make progress on, and what I wanted to dream about should I have the time. I needed to think through what my job requires me to do (preparing classes, setting up initiatives for my department) and what is good for me to do (attend conferences, stay up-to-date on journals, write). Basically, I needed to add a third dimension to the urgent-important matrix.

Here's what I came up with:

This chart makes use of two axes that separately evaluate whether a project is important for my job (i.e., conducting the business of my classes, department, university) or is important for me (i.e., promoting my own development and professional impact). So, for example, in "Essential" I have preparing my fall courses and developing my department's assessment plan. In "Need to Make Progress" I have finding a grant for my department to apply to. In "Need to Pursue," I have learning some cosmology. In "Nice to Do," I have working on the second edition of my aviation physics textbook.

Will this schema work? We'll have to see how the summer goes...

The problem with "being there"

I've been silent on this blog for a while to focus on my interim administrative appointments and on finishing  my tenure portfolio. Now seems like a good time to pick it back up, and I find myself unable to not offer a perspective on the Ham/Nye debate from last week.

Plenty of others have offered excellent commentary; I particularly recommend Biologos' responses, and the conversation that took place on their anotherchoice hashtag. I don't have much to add, except to expound on the very unsettling nature of Ham's refrain:

Were you there?

Ham used this phrase several times to question the claims of Big Bang cosmology and the evolutionary development of species. His essential idea is that, if an observer doesn't witness an event or process directly, they cannot claim that it happened. This important rule, he says, marks the difference between "historical science" and "observational science."

There are many concerns I could bring up regarding this argument. I could point out how Moses did not witness any of the events of Genesis, or how the author of Job did not witness any conversations between God and Satan. I could point out that the photons we observe in the Cosmic Microwave Background are reaching us now after journeying for 13.8 billion years, such that what we are measuring is a present event. I could point out that any observation we make is delayed by the amount of time it takes for light from the event to reach our eyes, such that we are always seeing the past, and ask the question of at what time scale observations become invalid. I could point out that Ham's organization was not there to witness the scenes from any of their paintings.

But instead, I'd like to ponder the significance of "being there" as a criterion for "real science."

I am a condensed matter physicist. I study how the behavior of materials is determined by their atomic/molecular/lattice structure. For example, lattice structure is what makes the graphite in your pencil different from a diamond, even though they're both made of carbon atoms. The carbon atoms are arranged differently in each material, so the materials behave differently (in terms of strength, transparency, density, etc.). How do we know what their structures are? We have several ways: We can bombard a sample of each material with x-rays and witness a different diffraction pattern for each; we can probe their surfaces with a tiny metal tip; we can run simulations of different lattice structures until we find one that produces the same material properties we observe experimentally.

But we never actually see these atoms' arrangements. We "aren't there," at the atomic scale; the lattice structure is so many orders of magnitude smaller than we are that we can never hope for a direct observation, just as we "weren't there" for the Big Bang or speciation.

So, if I never directly observe atomic structure, am I forbidden from publishing a lattice structure in a paper, or teaching it to my students? Does that mean that my entire field is invalid, and I should simply stick to reporting materials' properties instead of explaining them? What about chemistry, which faces a similar scale difference? What about a physician who claims that a patient is cured of a microscopic infection?

Whatever the original intention behind the "Were you there?" objection, I think it ultimately undermines all of present-day science, not just the parts that some Christians have trouble accepting.

The power of a good theory

There's a new set of articles buzzing around Facebook that seem to indicate that the case is "closed" on the allegedly faster-than-light (or "superluminal;" I learned that word this past year, though it seems my computer's dictionary hasn't) neutrinos. After all the controversy, CERN's Sergio Bertolucci has made the excellent point that the story has "given people the opportunity to see the scientific method in action."


I hope, in particular, that this story shows the public the power of a good theory.


I am a theoretical physicist, working on the side of the scientific method--essentially, model development and exploration--that most of the public (most notably, students) would rather gloss over. There's a lot of math, a lot of words, no "real-world" laboratory set-up, and very few cool pictures (and the cool pictures that do exist are computer generated and therefore to be considered suspect). "Show me how it works!" the experiment-preferring public cries, followed by squeals of joy when it looks like the prevailing theory (in this case, relativity) might be overturned by new "real" evidence (in this case, faster-than-light neutrinos).


Why do so many people seem averse to theory? Why is there such a furor when a prevailing theory seems to be disproved? I can't answer those questions for sure (especially since I have loved theory since I finally cracked SOHCAHTOA at a church chalkboard late one cold October night in my junior year of high school), but I do have a few ideas.

1. Many people don't like math: They don't like having to follow it or do it.
2. Experiments are "cooler" than theory (until, of course, you have to mathematically analyze the data, which is why I think many students prefer demonstrations, not experiments). 
3. Many people have been taught that the only kind of science is experimental science. (I think this statement is incomplete, as described below.)
4. Many people simply do not understand the power of a good theory.

Theories are more than esoteric cogitations of "the way things ought to be." They're a logical exploration of the implications of our underlying assumptions--assumptions which usually come from previous experimental results. Sometimes, the explorations are short-lived: For example, we spent one day on relativistic quantum mechanics in graduate school, just long enough to find the infinity that showed its invalidity. Sometimes, the explorations take a long time: We're still figuring out how to successfully formulate string theory. But once we've formulated the principles, we apply a reasoning process (ideally in the form of mathematical proof/derivation), and arrive at applications that have some testable qualities. These three pieces (well-formulated and well-founded principles, sound reasoning process, and testable applications) are essential to any good theory.

Take, for example, electromagnetic theory (which I get to teach at the junior level again this coming fall). All of the principles of the model (stationary point charges emit electric fields radially outward, a constant straight current produces circular magnetic fields around it, and changing electric or magnetic flux induces a magnetic or electric field, respectively, and magnetic "charges" don't exist) are based on experimental observations over hundreds of years. We (theorists) take those principles to develop applications of them, most notably optics, radiation, materials properties, circuits, and relativity.

We develop those applications as a way of saying, "If the underlying principles of this theory are correct, and the reasoning we've employed is sound, then in this situation (say, a particle approaching the speed of light) we should observe this behavior (say, the particle being unable to exceed the speed of light)." If you put it the other way, we're saying, "If we observe a certain behavior (say, a particle seeming to travel faster than the speed of light), then either the underlying principles are incorrect, or the reasoning we've employed is flawed."

And therein lies the power of a good theory: When you've confirmed the underlying principles time and again, and checked and rechecked the reasoning that leads to the applications, the theory (the principles, reasoning, and application) helps us know when to doubt a scientific claim.

When these results came out last year claiming superluminal speeds, most theorists knew not to be alarmed but rather to approach them with caution. Why? Because we have a powerful theory that says otherwise. It's not a matter of blind dogma to say that neutrinos can't exceed the speed of light, it's the result of a powerful theory that will require more than one experiment to topple. To put it another way, let's trace the story backwards: These neutrinos seemed to be travelling faster than the speed of light, which is supposed to be impossible according to the theory of relativity, which is not something that Einstein simply cogitated one day. The theory of relativity is built on the nature of electromagnetic waves, which are themselves a result of Maxwell's equations, which are built upon centuries of experiments. (I refer to the timespan not to say that we should favor old over new, but to contrast the amount of experimental support.)

So will this confirmation of electromagnetic theory result in a greater appreciation of theory for the common culture? Probably not. But at least theorists have a good recent example of the power of their work.

"Top ten things I hate about election time," revisited four years later

Four years ago, I generated a pretty feisty discussion with a Facebook note, "Top ten things I hate about election time - #1". This note was the culmination of a series of notes decrying the unfortunate aspects of national elections in the USA. Some items on my list were funny, some were serious, some were simply gripes. But each was born out of my genuinely held feelings, opinions, and experiences.

The final item on the list, "Christians telling other Christians how they have to vote," generated the most controversy among my friends and family, even garnering comments from people I had never met. (Apparently, notes defaulted to "global" sharing back then.) To summarize the arguments of those I had offended, I had to make the abortion issue my number one political priority, as a Christian.

This argument took me by surprise. I had not mentioned abortion (in any light or from any perspective), nor did I even refer to any particular candidate who was up for election (such as, I don't know, the big one). Regardless, though, everyone assumed I was referring to the Christian right's then-ubiquitous campaign against abortion in the context of choosing a President.

I actually had in mind the now-all-but-forgotten Florida Marriage Amendment, which was being supported vocally on Sunday morning by the leaders of the church of which I was a member at the time.

Much has changed in the last four years:

1. I am no longer a member of that church (their attempt at polarizing their congregants' votes that year being one of the reasons that ultimately culminated in my departure in late 2010), though I have cautiously attended services there the last few weeks.
2. I have since then become much more educated on the history of the Christian right, and now see where many of the excesses that I wrote about stem from.
3. I hear significantly fewer references to Romans 13 made in church.
4. Despite the protests that were offered on my 2008 note, I hear much less about abortion in presidential debates, campaign ads, and even in church on Sunday morning.
5. Instead, I hear much more about the economy and the government's relationship to the poor---now finally being given some explicit argumentation from Christian principles (if not Scripture). (Not surprisingly, there is equal Christian argumentation on both sides.)
6. And, perhaps most important (and the reason I'm writing this post), the Christian right may now be forced to reexamine their unquestioning support of Republican candidates.

This reexamination comes from the choice they now have to make---in some small sense---between their political agenda and their convictions about the gospel laid out in Scripture. I'm referring (as you might have guessed) to the evangelical conviction that believing a false gospel is a serious problem. Evangelicals---especially the more fiery ones, who are usually also fiery on political issues---rely on texts like Galatians 1:6-9 and 1 John 1:18-27 as a litmus test to distinguish genuine Christianity from heresies the way Archimedes relied on his principle of displacement to distinguish authentic gold from a forgery. And these evangelicals believe the warnings in these texts are dire:

"But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God’s curse!"

"Whoever denies that Jesus is the Christ... is the antichrist... No one who denies the Son has the Father."

Many evangelicals---including these fiery, Republican evangelicals---believe that Mormonism falls under this category of "another gospel" that "denies that Jesus is the Christ." These evangelicals take the deity of Jesus very seriously---as they should, if they believe it to be true---and reject any gospel---like that of Mormonism---that denies it.

So, they have some distress as November approaches: Do they stay true to their social and political convictions, and vote for someone whom they believe (based on such a dire, central conviction in their religion) is in this heretical hotseat? Do they stay true to their evangelical profession that "the gospel is central" and vote for the other candidate who at least claims to believe the same gospel they do? Or do they wander in a political wilderness, wishing they were back in the Egypt of the 2008 election? (It's strikingly similar to the Jeroboam vs. Rehoboam "election.")

I suspect that most will take the first route. Their priority in elections, after all, has been to oppose the social and political evils that they perceive to be so great. "The gospel is the church's responsibility," I suspect they might say, "not the President's."

I could not be happier with this answer.

Because really, evangelical Republicans' rationalization for sticking with the Republican candidate simply goes to demonstrate what I wrote four years ago: We have to not only cultivate our beliefs, but also cultivate the priorities we place on those beliefs, in the contexts in which we live them out. These evangelical Republicans are willing to favor their stance on political and social issues over their commitment to a pure gospel in the context of this election. That cannot possibly be an easy decision to make, but in the end, it is certainly a reasonable one.

But in making that decision, in assigning those weightings, they must be willing to respectfully allow other Christians to assign their weightings differently---in this decision, and in the myriad others that we face in this world of issues and questions that cannot be resolved to a one-dimensional spectrum, or a single choice between two equally nuanced options. We need to acknowledge that these determinations are not easy, that there is a struggle involved. We should never present the end result as the only logical outcome that we arrived at in a straightforward and nearly instantaneous manner.

I therefore propose two considerations for the next six months.

1. Let's adopt an attitude of sharing in the struggle, instead of arguing over the answer. It is not a straightforward manner to decide whom to vote for, what party to align oneself with (or declare independence from parties), what stance to take on a political issue, what stance to take on a theological issue, what career to choose, where to attend church, etc.
2. If you feel uncomfortable voting for someone, then don't. If you feel uncomfortable voting for either presidential candidate, then don't vote for either. Still vote---for whatever you feel comfortable---but leave that line blank. The Republican party has long relied on the support of much of the Christian church, and their drift away from the abortion issue (which the Christian right said was so important to them four years ago) indicates that now they're assuming that support. But what if some Christians voted for every issue/candidate with whom they felt comfortable, but left the presidential line blank? What if the number of abstentions on the presidential selection on ballots became a statistic referred to on the news? What if it became a concern, to both parties?

Handling controversy in our fields as Christian scholars

With the close of the recent faster-than-light neutrino debacle, I find myself contemplating how Christian scholars can responsibly respond to other Christians' questions about controversial events/findings in our fields. In particular...

1. When other Christians ask us questions about these controversies, how can we tell if they are genuinely interested, or simply tapping us for information?
2. How do we caringly but fairly defend our field if other Christians seek to use these controversies in attacks against the mainstream incarnations of our fields?
3. How do we explain our qualifications to judge these controversies?

For example, in response to the claims of faster-than-light neutrinos, I as a physicist faced the following issues:

1. Should I attempt to re-explain the findings in response to questions, or simply point the askers to the already-existing (and very well-written) popular documentation of the claims?
2. If a young-earth creationist sees this as a "failure" of physics that would justify his challenge to the estimated 13.7-billion-year age of the universe, how do I lovingly put the claims---and the likelihood of their accuracy---into perspective?
3. In such conversations, how do I humbly but accurately describe my experience with related matters, and mark out the boundaries my understanding of a sub-field of physics that I'm not terribly familiar with?

The one who gets the learning

A theme in studies of student learning in higher education is that the one who does the work is the one who gets the learning. This is the main impetus behind the push away from lectures and toward interactive engagement: If the professor is the one who creates the outline, completes the sample problem, and derives the important conclusions, then the professor gets the learning, and the students get to watch. If the students are to learn, they must be the ones to do the work that leads to understanding.

I am convinced that the same is true in the setting of Sunday morning at church. If the pastor spends all week outlining and cross-referencing the text, examining applications, and drawing the important conclusions, then the pastor has received the learning, not the congregation.

This is not to say there is no place for lectures. Lectures can (and I emphasize "can") be motivating and can lead to initiative on the learners' part. But to have lecture be the only mode of learning that takes place is to fall short of setting up the learners for success.

Two of my favorite movies are Ever After and The Dark Knight, and for the same reason: At some point during each movie, I say, "Oh, yeah; this is a {Cinderalla|Batman} movie." I honestly forget that each film is based on a modern-day mythological figure/story.

The interesting thing is that I don't forget what each movie is based on because they stray from their inspirations, but because they take a familiar story (a wicked step-family, a fairy godmother, a criminal clown, and a criminal hero) but because they take those elements and make them so compelling (an overlooked stepsister, Leonardo DaVinci, an ameture anarchist, and two vigilantes) that I feel like I'm seeing them for the first time. My "Oh, yeah" moment is filled with a new appreciation for a story that has grown familiar and commonplace in my mind.

I wonder if Christians' lives are supposed to be the same way. Perhaps it's a good thing when our coworkers & friends say, "Oh, yeah; [s]he's a Christian," not because we've strayed from Jesus's calling but because we've lived out that calling in a way that hasn't been seen before, and that brings a new sense of wonder.

...then again, maybe we are!

I got into a facebook debate last week with a friend of a friend who was offended by Protagoras' statement that "[hu]man is the measure of all things," often (as was the case that sparked this debate) used to open an introductory Humanities course. This friend-of-a-friend was consoling the mutual friend that he would just have to deal with it (presumably as part of Christian suffering).

I offered (with a glasses-smiley) that one could opt to be a Christian humanist.

The friend-of-a-friend retorted with a "challenge" for me to define "huminist" and "Christian."

I replied with the consideration (often employed by Christians in the academy) that "humanism" is simply a stance that humans are worth studying, and that Christians (of any definition) can join in this stance based on their belief that humans are created in the image of God.

The friend-of-a-friend has yet to respond.

But my answer still, of course, leaves the pesky first-day-of-the-semester quote hanging in the air. Christians have some reason to dislike it. After all, we believe that we are our favorite idols. And humanism without God (just like anything without God) can turn against God and, ultimately, against humanity. We might even be bold enough to say God sets the standards of the universe, and not humans.

Of course, I can never think of God's commandments without thinking of the two most important:

"1. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.

2. Love your neighbor as yourself."

Then it hit me: What is the "measure" employed in these commandments? How do you know you've kept them?

It's us. However big a human's heart, mind, soul, and strength, that is exactly how much that human is supposed to love God. However much and in whatever ways a human loves him/herself, that is how much that human is supposed to love his/her neighbor.

Are human beings the measure of all things? That might be an intractable question! Even still, it's an interesting hypothesis, and seems to be true (in some sense) when it comes to God's top two commandments.

Believe, believe, and believe

Happy 100th post!

It seems to me that Christians and scientists both become very upset around the word "believe." Here are three possible meanings that word can have:

1. "Do you believe in evolution?" In this question (presumably posed by a creationist), "believe in XYZ" means something like, "to think think idea XYZ is true." But the scientist's answer to this question is always, "No," because that's not what a scientist means when (s)he uses the word "believe." Because the scientist (typically) considers that the theoretical, observational, & experimental research that has gone into developing, confirming, and refining the evolutionary model has been sufficiently rigorous to justifiably warrant (nay, necessitate) a certainty in the model. Belief is not necessary, the scientist says (perhaps in a scoffing tone), because of sufficient supporting evidence.

2. "Do you believe in God?" In this question (presumably posed by a scientist), "believe in XYZ" means something like, "to hold idea XYZ to be true, regardless of a lack of evidence." A Christian would technically answer this question with, "yes," but this is not what Christians mean when they say they "believe in God"---or, if they're feeling specific---when they say they "have faith in God." To paraphrase James's warning, "You believe there is one God. Good for you! Of course, even the demons believe and tremble, and that faith does them no good!" Believing that God exists, Christianity says (perhaps in a chilling tone), gets you nowhere.

3. "Do you believe God?" I am eternally thankful to a good friend from summer project (hosted by what was then known as Campus Crusade for Christ) for pointing out this distinction. When Christians (usually) say that they believe in God, they mean that they "believe God"---"trust God." Far from "belief" in evolution (which is no belief at all), and from ascent to God's existence (which even the Father of Lies admits), Christian belief is an orientation of the heart, mind, and will. Christian belief is "banking our hopes" (thanks to John Piper for that one) on all that Jesus is and all that He has done for us. Trusting God, Christianity says (definitely in a hopeful and eager tone), changes everything.

So, how can we (Christians, scientists, those in the intersection of those sets, and those not in either set) be more careful with the concept of belief?

What do we need from campus ministries?

On Wednesday of this week, I had a great chat with a good friend of mine who is heading up a city-wide campus ministry under the auspices of the United Methodist Church. He asked a question I've not been asked:

How can our ministry serve the faculty at this university?

The sky's the limit! I thought in response, with a quirky smile. I told him I would dream up possibilities and let him know.

I have some ideas of how I'd like to answer this question, but I'd like to hear what others think. How do you think a campus ministry can serve the faculty of their university?

Not supposed to be here

I've been greatly enjoying the Bible reading plan for slackers & shirkers. I find it gives me time to think about what I read, since I don't rush through each book but still have something to read every day.

A few weeks ago, I read about the Gibeonites, crafty fellows who conned their way into the Israelite community to avoid being destroyed. These were people who weren't supposed to be there. Joshua had orders from God to eliminate the people of Canan---a hotly debated topic that seems tempered by the striking observation that God never seems to condemn the Israelites for letting them live or the Gibeonites for deceiving Joshua.

Granted, Joshua 9:14-15 says that "The Israelites... did not inquire of the LORD. Then Joshua made a treaty of peace with them to let them live." But if this is supposed to be a condemning commentary, it sure is weak (especially given the many scathing indictments of some of Israel's actions).

Also granted, the Gibeonites played a pretty mean trick on Israel. But again, there's not really any condemning commentary on their actions.

In fact, Joshua 21:44 concludes the military campaign with, "The LORD gave them rest on every side according to all He had sworn to their fathers. None of their enemies were able to stand against them, for the LORD handed over all their enemies to them," making it seem like the Gibeonite deception was how God delivered His people from them as an enemy.

Regardless of one's take on how the Gibeonite debacle could have/should have unfolded, the point is that these folks were not supposed to be there. And once they were in the community, they were in. (Consider God's vengeance for the Gibeonites that Saul killed.) They may have spent the rest of their lives feeling like and being treated like outsiders, but they were in.

I think Christian faculty often feel the same way---both in their universities and in their churches (though hopefully none of used any trickery to get here!). We're not "supposed" to be in either place, but we are, because this is where God---just as sovereign as He was over the Gibeonite incident---wants us to be.

The kind of books we need right now

I receive a number of wall posts on facebook with recommendations or queries about whether I’ve read a certain book relating Christianity to science. Some are theologically conservative, some liberal; some are Scripture-based, some science-based, and some philosophy-based; some address the higher education setting, and some grade school; some take the tactic of setting up a conversation between “science” and “religion,” while others take a very hostile stand behind their well-drawn lines.



I’ll admit: I haven’t read most of these books. But I do think they all have something important in common: They’re not what we need right now.


Take, for example, a recent recommendation: Tipler’s The Physics of Christianity. The book description on amazon reads:

A highly respected physicist demonstrates that the essential beliefs of Christianity are wholly consistent with the laws of physics.


Frank Tipler takes an exciting new approach to the age-old dispute about the relationship between science and religion in The Physics of Christianity. In reviewing centuries of writings and discussions, Tipler realized that in all the debate about science versus religion, there was no serious scientific research into central Christian claims and beliefs. So Tipler embarked on just such a scientific inquiry. The Physics of Christianity presents the fascinating results of his pioneering study.

Tipler begins by outlining the basic concepts of physics for the lay reader and brings to light the underlying connections between physics and theology. In a compelling example, he illustrates how the God depicted by Jews and Christians, the Uncaused First Cause, is completely consistent with the Cosmological Singularity, an entity whose existence is required by physical law. His discussion of the scientific possibility of miracles provides an impressive, credible scientific foundation for many of Christianity’s most astonishing claims, including the Virgin Birth, the Resurrection, and the Incarnation. He even includes specific outlines for practical experiments that can help prove the validity of the “miracles” at the heart of Christianity.


Tipler’s thoroughly rational approach and fully accessible style sets The Physics of Christianity apart from other books dealing with conflicts between science and religion. It will appeal not only to Christian readers, but also to anyone interested in an issue that triggers heated and divisive intellectual and cultural debates.

Aside from the Babel fish argument, here's my issue with works like this: "he illustrates how the God depicted by Jews and Christians, the Uncaused First Cause, is completely consistent with the Cosmological Singularity, an entity whose existence is required by physical law." Physical law "requires" the existence of just about (and probably absolutely) nothing. I'm no cosmologist, but a quick literature search for "cosmological singularity" (whatever it is; again, I'm no cosmologist) shows that its necessity is far from certain in the physics community, but this author thinks it sounds like Christianity, so he latches onto it with unwarranted certainty. (Granted, Tipler has published about the cosmological singularity, so his subscription to it as a true idea is understandable to some degree.)

(By the way, Reasons to Believe does the exact same thing with Scripture: Whatever verses sound like physical law, they say, must have definitive physical significance, while neighboring verses that almost seem to contradict physical law must be metaphorical.)


What I think we really need at this point is an agreed-upon framework of Christian scholarship that can direct our investigations and undergird our discussions. Is it Christ-like, for example, to co-opt an uncertain and unproven physical theory (in this case, the cosmological singularity) to give the Christian masses an artificial sense of certainty? What happens, then, when that physical theory is definitively disproven? Didn't the church do the same thing when it latched onto Aristotelian astronomy that placed the earth at the center of the universe and the planets and sun in perfectly circular orbits? That certainly didn't end well.


I'm not saying a study like Tipler's isn't worthwhile, and I'm not saying you shouldn't buy his book. I applaud what I think are his genuine intentions to encourage Christians and heal some of the damage between Christianity and science. But I think that a healthy framework of Christian scholarship is a prerequisite to studies such as this one. The damage is not just a conceptual discord between a few tenants of Christianity and a few scientific principles; there is also a vast intellectual, emotional, and cultural rift between the university and the church (which are both rifted from the main culture) that requires some serious structural undergirding if it's ever going to be bridged. I think that framework can be developed (if Christian scholars will put their minds and hearts and publications to it) and I think that rift can be bridged with that framework as a foundation.
 
What needs to go in that framework? What kinds of foundational questions about Christian scholarship do we need to address to make works like Tipler's timely? Well... what do you think?

Pray for us... on October 15

So glad to get back to the blogosphere! As the fall semester ramps up (mine starts this week), I'm asking for readers to pray for Christian faculty, and faculty & teachers in general... on October 15.

Why October 15? Well, let's take a journey...

I once asked for prayer for effective first impressions for the sake of the gospel just before the semester began. I might ask for the same thing this semester, but since then, I've come to realize two things...

1. While many Christians will pray for professors & teachers at the beginning of the semester, there's at least a small sentiment among non-academics that says something like, "Pray for them? Didn't they just have the entire summer/all of December off?" (Granted, anyone who has talked to me over the last four months knows I didn't have an easygoing summer after being asked by my university to serve as Blackboard administrator.) I'm not going to address the issues of nine-month versus twelve-month contracts and hourly pay versus salary and limited classroom access and the need to catch up on scholarly expectations that impact teachers' and professors' lives, but I will acknowledge that, to an outsider, it probably does seem a little odd for us to feel such a weighty need after summer, and that we typically do come at the beginning of the academic year with renewed energy.

2. While the beginning of the year is important, as I mentioned above, we do generally come at it with a relatively high level of energy. And here's the second thing I realized: The other time (besides the beginning) that Christians typically call for prayer for teachers & professors is at the end of the semester or academic year. "Lord, help them to finish well," I've heard more than one pastor/elder pray. This most recent year, though, it occurred to me, "I started finishing around the middle of the semester. That's when I needed prayer and support."

The middle of the semester is when the despair sets in, when you stare down the gaping chasm of how ineffective you've been this semester (prompted by mid-term grades, students asking the same questions every week, students asking no questions every week, receiving last semester's course evaluations, realizing that you haven't budged on that to-do list on your board while tenure evaluation creeps closer), leading to the existential crisis of wondering if this pursuit is worth spending your life on. The situation never really is as bad as you feel, but that feeling (as my wife likes to remind me) is real. The end of the semester actually has a natural burst of energy thanks to the relief of escaping that chasm once more, such that the low point in motivation and energy and faith is somewhere in the middle.

So, this semester, I'm asking you to pray for teachers & professors... on October 15. If you want to pray for them now, that's super! But around about October 15 is when we'll need it in a very poignant way. So, go ahead and open your calendar, create a new appointment, set the date for October 15 (If you make it an all day event, be sure to set the reminder for a non-integer number of days, so it won't ding at midnight.), and maybe even paste in the link to this article.

And if you feel like it, maybe set aside some time that day to take out a teacher or professor you know (whom you probably won't have seen very often when October 15 rolls around) for lunch or dinner or coffee. (Breakfast is great, too, but be prepared to wake up early...) There's a major criticism of prayer these days that those who believe in prayer don't actually do anything to help the situation they're praying about. (I have a good deal of empathy for this criticism, but that's another topic for another day.) If you're praying for teachers & faculty to be encouraged and energized, offering time with a friend outside the academic world is a great way to be an answer to your own prayer request.

Well, I need to go open my calendar to October 15...

Here's what I said...

Earlier this week, I posted about how I was given the opportunity to deliver the invocation and benediction prayers at my university's faculty recognition dinner. I appreciate the feedback and prayers that so many friends supported me with.

Below is the text of what I prayed. The invocation is mostly selections from Ecclesiastes; I wrote the benediction as a response to the question, "What do I want to pray for?" After writing them, I realized that they are almost exactly what I would have prayed at a Christian event, which encouraged me that I was being genuine. I received a lot of positive feedback and thanks from my colleagues afterward, which encouraged me that I had served them and honored them. (Of course, if anyone was offended, I doubt they would have said so right at the end of the event!)

Invocation:

A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own work. This, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race [and university faculty in particular]. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their work—[all their teaching, all their scholarship, and all their university service]—this is the gift of God.

And so, God, I pray that tonight would be a time of encouragement, rest, and renewal, so that we could bring to a satisfying finish this academic year of opportunities that You’ve given to us. Amen.

Benediction:

God, I thank you for all of the reasons we have to celebrate tonight.

Thank you for colleagues like Captain Terrell* and [new POY]** who exhibit such care for their students and enthusiasm for their fields.

Thank you for our administrators and staff who guide this university.

And thank you for the opportunity to interact with the world you have created and the students that you have brought our way. Give us a weekend of good rest and the strength and passion to finish this semester well. Amen.

*2010-2011 Professor of the Year

**2011-2012 Professor of the Year, named just minutes before the benediction