Get Educated...Get a Life

Get religion, get smart. According to a study conducted at the Graduate School of Education at Stanford University, young people who practice and are committed to their faith perform at a higher level academically than those who are less religious.

llana Horwitz

Ilana Horwitz, the doctoral candidate who conducted the study, interviewed almost 2,500 public schools students aged 13-17 placing them into five categories based on the depth of their religious life. She named the categories from most to least religious as follows: abiders, adapters, assenters, avoiders and atheists. (It seems she has a preference for "a" words.) Her study concluded that the more religious had a significantly higher grade point average than the less religious. For example, the "abiders" -- described by Horwitz as those who attend religious services, pray on a regular basis, feel close to God, and emphasize the role of faith in their daily lives -- earned an average GPA of 3.22. In contrast the "avoiders" -- those who believe God exists but avoid religious involvement in their lives -- earned an average GPA of 2.93.

Horwitz attributes the difference to two key factors: conscientiousness and cooperation. She went on to conclude that "church attendance and doing well in school require commitment, diligence, and routine...The ritual practice of rising and going to church or mass, and so forth – whether compelled by one’s own faith or one’s parents’ demands – commits a youth to a practice and routine, a skill that translates into tools needed for academic success.”

It seems, then, an active religious faith can make a difference in both this life and the next. Get religion and get smart; or you can follow the road most taken and...

Get a relativistic education. I was taught, in both school and at home, that if I knew little or nothing about a subject, I should remain quiet for fear of revealing my ignorance and sounding like a complete fool. When it comes to all those important, earth-shaking topics, I've tried to follow this advice, although those who know me well might disagree.

Usually, though, if I'm interested in a subject, I read about it, study it, and relying on my common sense, listen to the arguments of more knowledgeable people. Only then do I feel comfortable to form an opinion. Even then I'm ready to change that opinion as I learn more about the subject and the motives of those making the arguments. The sought-after end is always the truth.

Apparently, in a world dominated by relativistic thinking, comprehending the truth is no longer the desired goal. How can it be, when your truth and my truth and their truth, all very different from one another, all become acceptable? The true relativist accepts all of these "truths" as valid because no knowledge, no beliefs, are truly objective; all is subjective. Indeed, he rejects the very idea of objective truth and, like Pontius Pilate, can turn to the Source of Truth itself and sneer those words, "What is truth?" Remarkably, he can do so without any embarrassment whatsoever.

Today, however, political correctness has led to a strange, illogical twisting of relativism. Now only some "truths" are acceptable. Those that support the ideological left are fine regardless of their relationship to objective reality. Any other truth must be attacked and discarded. The lie, then, becomes a truth if it furthers the desired ideological ends. This is why so many of our politicians and their elitist fellow travelers can knowingly tell obvious lies and not be taken to task by a media driven by the same ideology. As Lenin is reported to have said: "A lie told often enough becomes the truth."

I encountered a beautiful example of this a few months ago. Supposedly intelligent college students didn't hesitate to offer their opinion on the president's State of the Union speech several days before he delivered it. Assuming he had already delivered the speech, they willingly aired their opinions of what he supposedly said. What fun to listen to their comments on the content of a speech as if they had actually listened to it. In other words, they lied, but that's okay because their lies support the ideology. They have been so completely indoctrinated that their opinions before and after the speech would be virtually identical. This is what ideology does. It brainwashes. Don't confuse me with the facts; my mind is made up. Or, perhaps more accurately, the ideology has captured my mind and dictated my thoughts.

Here's a video of these NYU students:

Uncovering and highlighting the ignorance of those claiming to be educated would be great fun were it not so sad.

Lenin and Hitler: Little Difference

Should you visit a college campus and have the bad fortune to experience an up close and personal encounter with a violent leftist of the Antifa movement, just ask him to define fascism, the ideology he claims to oppose. Ask him to describe the kinds of policies fascist governments have historically imposed on their populations. Ask him to do the same for communism and communist governments. The answers (or lack thereof) will amaze. Indeed, there is little difference between Antifa activists and the true fascists they condemn -- just as there was little difference between the tactics of Hitler's Nazis and Stalin's Marxists. Truth, understanding, and knowledge are of no importance. Only the ideology counts. It results, of course, in the enslavement of the ignorant, the very "useful idiots" the ideologues call on to do their dirty work.

Ben Garrison Cartoon

Yes, indeed, there's an element of slavery here. Too many have become so complacent in their ideological servitude that they are unable to think. I fear it has begun to affect the nation as a whole. As Americans we probably enjoy more physical comforts than those living elsewhere and yet at the same time we are losing our mental freedom. Even more strange is the infantization of college students who must be protected from any thoughts that might possibly disturb them.

Protect me...please, please protect me

Of course, far too many colleges and universities encourage all this by eliminating required, foundational courses in history, philosophy, literature, and the development of civilization. In 1962, as a freshman at the Georgetown University School of Foreign Service, I was required to take a course in logic. (I still have both the textbook and workbook, to which I have referred many times over the years.) I suspect very few college students could even define "logic" today. And I still fall back on what I learned that same freshman year in the legendary Carroll Quigley's course on the Evolution of Civilizations. Professor Quigley was the kind of liberal that no longer exists, one who would graciously listen to other points of view and engage in the give and take of good argument. 

Carroll Quigley

Without an understanding of the human condition -- the knowledge offered by the foundational studies mentioned above -- no person is truly educated. But even where such courses continue to be taught, their content is too often distorted by the prevailing leftist ideology. Argument and open discussion of contrary views -- the means to seek out the truth -- are not just discouraged but even prohibited.

Yes, it's a sad truth that most college graduates today depart these institutions woefully uneducated. Some have acquired the basic technical skills demanded by a chosen career field and go on to accept entry-level positions in industry, government, education, or health care. But they have been trained rather than educated. No doubt many will succeed as the world measures success, but are they prepared to answer, or even ask, life's great questions?

Others, having focused on politically correct areas of study, graduate with few marketable skills and find themselves working at what are essentially unskilled jobs and living in mom's basement.

Mom's Basement Ain't So Bad

Still others choose to enter professions that require the increasingly specialized knowledge and skills taught in  graduate schools. Brandishing advanced degrees and professional success they are viewed as experts to whom the world should listen. In truth, their expertise and knowledge are often so specialized, so narrow, that they are less likely to offer the answers so many seek.

A young person today must make a choice. If the goal is wealth and worldly success, and nothing more, then by all means do what must be done to attend one of the elite institutions. Accept the indoctrination and be prepared to live a narrow, meaningless life.

I've already, probably too often, offered my opinion on the quality of higher education at most colleges and universities. To the young person of faith, I offer the following advice. First, listen to St. Paul and what he told the Philippians:

I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus [Ph 3:14].

In other words, don't sweat the small stuff, and that includes how you earn your living in today's world. Focus instead on the eternal "prize of God's upward calling." Be a person of faith, one who sees beyond this life to eternity.

My most recent advice to the average high school student is to learn a useful trade, the kind that will always be in demand, or enlist in one of the military services, while at the same time pursuing higher education online. And then read. Read and re-read the works of those whose thoughts formed humanity's great civilizations. 

That advice hasn't changed. 

A Marine in Afghanistan - Learning About Life

Life, in fact, is the best educator. And I really believe that the average 20-year-old Marine with combat experience in Iraq, Afghanistan, or elsewhere has a deeper understanding of the human condition and the state of the world than most recent college graduates. 

A Memory Almost Forgotten

Youth has the benefit of experiencing a kind of temporal slow-motion. Hoped-for events seem always so distant that when they finally arrive most of the expected enjoyment has already been savored. For a child the anticipation is nearly as wonderful as the reality. As we age, however, time seems to compress causing the future to collide with the present. We hardly have time to look forward to a future event because it has already arrived, or more likely, has joined the rest of our life in a jumble of memories. And the past is indeed a jumble.

This all came to mind yesterday as I approached a local railroad crossing. I've always enjoyed watching trains -- a delight I inherited from my father -- although these days I miss seeing the caboose, that final appendage to every freight train. The caboose, the train's exclamation point, let everyone know the train has passed. And as a child I could always count on a wave from the brakeman as the caboose roared by. But, sadly, technology has now eliminated the caboose, and today's children will suffer, if only mildly, the loss of that wave.

Anyway, as the barrier lowered, the lights flashed, and the warning alarm clanged, I obediently brought my Kia to a stop. I was the one and only car at the crossing and, looking to my left, I could see an oncoming freight train moving along at a good clip. Powered by three engines, the train consisted of 105 cars (I counted). I had even opened the car window so I could fully experience the noise, the smell, the sight of all those freight cars rumbling by as I waited more than patiently. And then it was gone. The barrier lifted and the train joined all those other experiences -- small, large, and in-between -- that make up my past. That train passing in front of me is really no different from the movement of the other events of my life as they pass from future to present to past.

It's unlikely I will actually recall this experience as a unique event that occurred early one February morning in 2018. It will probably merge with dozens of similar experiences joining all those other trains I've watched over the years. But memory is a strange thing, and some experiences, so intense or so meaningful, will always stand out as unique events, never to be forgotten or absorbed into a mass of like incidents. And as I drove through that railroad crossing, I suddenly thought of Henry Wright and said aloud, "Oh, my gosh, I forgot February 6th, the day Henry was killed."

I am ever amazed how the memory of such events is triggered. Why did I think of Henry yesterday morning? I haven't a clue. But as soon as I got home I went directly to a thick book just published by my U. S. Naval Academy class of 1967 as a remembrance of the 50th anniversary of our graduation. It contains biographical sketches of most of my classmates, living and dead. I turned to Henry's entry just to ensure I had the date right. I did. His entry is below. Click on it for a larger image.

Henry Arthur Wright was a 1967 classmate who, along with me and a couple of dozen other classmates, spent four years together in the same company. (The Brigade of Midshipman was divided into 36 companies.) 

Henry was a remarkable young man, a true over-achiever determined to prove, if only to himself, that he had what it takes to do great things. Henry didn't need to prove this to those who knew him, because we were already convinced of his capabilities. The photo below is his USNA yearbook photo.

Henry Arthur Wright

Henry chose to become an officer in the U. S. Marine Corps and at graduation was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant. Like every new Marine officer, he spent the next few months at The Basic School at Quantico, Virginia. On January 5, 1968, just six months after graduation from the Naval Academy, Henry was in Vietnam as a platoon commander. One month later, on February 6, Henry was mortally wounded leading his platoon in relief of a company of Marines near Da Nang. He was the first of our classmates to sacrifice his life in combat. And it truly was a sacrificial act, for his bravery under fire was recognized by the award of a posthumous Bronze Star and, of course, a Purple Heart. Among the youngest members of our USNA class, Henry was just 21 years old at the time of his death. He is indeed "forever young."

We lost too many classmates in the Vietnam conflict. They were all remarkable men, true heroes every one. But to me Henry was special -- not simply because he was the first to lose his life, but because I knew him so well. He was indeed a friend. (Henry's profile on the Virtual Wall: Panel 37#, Line 76)

Marines Near Da Nang

A few months ago, a TV show recalling the Tet Offensive brought Henry to mind and I could hardly believe it had been 50 years since his death. I promised myself that on February 6 of this year, I would remember February 6, 1968 by having a Mass celebrated in Henry's name for the repose of his soul. And then, of course, in the busy-ness and unceasing movement of life, I simply forgot. I will make up for that lapse this week. Fortunately, Henry is now in eternity where time and memory presumably have less meaning. But these are still meaningful to me and to all those who knew this wonderful young man.

Rest in peace, Henry. We will never forget you.

Iraqis and US Marines

This morning I did something I rarely do. I watched two consecutive hours of television. I was captivated by a documentary describing the men and mission of a Marine recon company in Iraq back in the summer of 2005. This was before the 2007 surge, and before the new administration gave the enemy hope and opportunity by publicly issuing withdrawal deadlines.

Aired on the Military Channel, the documentary was fascinating; and having worked closely with Marines over 30 years ago, I realized quickly that these remarkable men were very much like their courageous and well-disciplined predecessors. They may occasionally be a little rough around the edges, but their commitment to their more than challenging mission is evident.

That being said, what really interested me were the rural Iraqis with whom our young Marines came into daily contact. They are a people ruled largely by centuries-old tribal loyalties and religious affiliations and so the cultural divide between them and the Marines is enormous. Most of the people with whom the Marines interact just want to live their lives in the confines of their small village micro-societies, and will do what is necessary to minimize any disruptions to their families and their way of life. If they believe it benefits them, they will side with either the insurgents or the Marines. Understandably, their real and immediate concern is not for the future of their nation, but rather for the safety of their families. They know the Marines will eventually leave Iraq, but their hostile neighbors will remain. Taking sides publicly can be a dangerous thing.

Watching our young Marine NCOs and officers interact so effectively with these rural Iraqis was amazing. So too was their ability to accomplish their mission under extremely difficult conditions and burdened by very restrictive rules of engagement. These Marines were trained extensively in the art of warfare; they were trained to kill the enemy. But in Iraq (and in Afghanistan as well) they face an insurgency, a hidden enemy who blends in quickly with the population. And the population is all too often apathetic. Watching the show, I found these young selfless Marines to be mature far beyond their years. They are a far cry from the "Occupy" young people I encountered in Asheville, NC last weekend, who seemed intent only on complaining that they haven't been given enough.

One of the documentary's more iconic scenes showed an Iraqi woman baking unleavened bread in a large stone oven in the back yard of her home. The oven, a circular well-like structure, was buried three or four feet in the ground. We can see the hot coals in the bottom of the oven and as we watch the woman places the unbaked bread against the interior stone wall. The oven is hot and bakes the thin bread quickly.

As I watched this brief domestic scene I couldn't help but think that 4,000 years ago, not far from this very place, Abraham's wife, Sarah, probably baked her bread in exactly the same fashion using a similar stone oven. I suspect the technology of primitive bread-baking has changed very little over the centuries. This one scene told me much about what we face in the Middle East.

I've embedded a brief excerpt, the final few minutes of this documentary. It's well worth your time...

This documentary was made seven years ago. I trust all these young men have returned home safely to their families, although several have undoubtedly redeployed one or more times. Pray for them.