Jackie Wiebold

            After reading the selections from Collingwood and Jerome, it seems as though a large portion of the challenges historians face originate from human methods of thought.  The authors each discuss different problems, but both can find their roots in human information processing methods.  While Collingwood chooses to focus on the thought processes of the historian conducting the research, Jerome focuses on the thoughts of those creating what may someday become research.  However, in both cases and from both perspectives the difficulties that arise originate in human thought.

            From the onset of his writing it is clear Jerome is skeptical of the human record of the past.  In addition to citing several examples of falsified stories that became history he also quotes Froude as having said, "History [is] like a child's box of letters, with which we can spell any word we please.  We have only to pick out such letters as we want, arrange them as we like, and say nothing about those which do not suit our purpose" (183).  He explains, however, that his reservations do not stem from the belief that all history is deliberately falsified.  Instead he refers to several studies that demonstrate the ways in which the human mind unconsciously falsifies information, even after a short amount of time.  One study which involved recalling details from several black and white photographs produced only seventeen correct responses out of 282 depositions (186).  Those involved not only wanted to tell the truth but believed they were.  Jerome argues that if "good faith, the desire to tell the truth, ... the certainty that the testimony is true, as well as the opportunity to secure correct information, and the absence of prepossessions" could rarely produce an accurate report then true testimony is only a rare exception (187).  In this case, the way humans process and recall information is the source of challenge for historians.

            Collingwood also addresses the issues that arise from human processing, but he instead focuses on the processes of the historian.  After recounting a literary style murder mystery, he begins to contrast two types, and therefore two different mindsets, of historians.  The first mind set is that of a "scissors-and-paste" historian.  Here the historian researches periods of history, learning the statements left by those who went before.  Collingwood identifies this as one of the difficulties of being a scissors-and-paste historian.  By only reasserting the previous statements of others, this historian cannot call himself a scientific thinker (52).  Another dilemma that faces historians of this type is the overwhelming amount of evidence that is available.  If the historians goal was merely to sort through previous information it would be impossible for them to accomplish this considering the amount of research that is available in our day and age. "Scientific" historians, on the other hand, create their own statements by asking questions of the evidence that is before them.  Instead of only gathering previous information, this historian can hold the title of scientific thinker because of the investigative questions they use to "devise tortures under which [nature] can no longer hold her tongue" (47).  This style of thinking can produce challenges also, however, as there is no exact formula of questions one can use to "torture" the answers from nature.  As a result the wrong questions can be asked, as was demonstrated by the constable in Collingwood's John Doe murder mystery, which results in incorrect or unhelpful answers.  Even with this challenge Collingwood clearly places the scientific historian above the scissors-and-paste historian.  The challenge of a misplaced question can be easily corrected and learned from, while the limitations that face the scissors-and-paste historians are much more difficult to overcome.  Regardless of the way they are viewed, both historian types that Collingwood presents face challenges because of their thought processes. 

            With the different types of challenges presented for both the historian and the witness it seems as though the task of recreating history would be a daunting and nearly impossible one.  We do, however, have records that we treat as historical fact.  We even base life or death decisions on those same witness accounts.  How can this be when they seem to be wrought with so much error?

            I think the answer lies with Collingwood's scientific historian.  I can't possibly pretend to know what it takes to be a historian, but based on Collingwood's description of the questioning that takes place I believe it is possible for truth to be discerned.  He notes that it is important for a historian to know themselves very well before they try to learn from others.  This allows them to know the biases and motives behind the questions they ask and the answers they search for.  If historians are able to understand this about themselves it would seem logical to believe they could also discern certain things about their witnesses.  Jerome notes how any witness can be either very reliable or completely inaccurate depending on the situation and the role they play in it.  By applying the skills of the scientific historian one can hope to recognize which witnesses are reliable and they can still find ways to learn from those they deem unreliable if they find the right questions to ask.  Just as the facts don't always matter in politics, maybe the witness doesn't always matter in history, so long as the historian has the skills and experience necessary to determine the kind of witness they are dealing with. 

             This year's Poehler Lecture featured Dr. Loma Meyer, a highly renowned professor and staff member.  With the exception of two years of public schooling, she attended Lutheran schools throughout college and attended both the University of Minnesota and Oklahoma State University.  She received her doctorate degrees from the University of California, Santa Barbara, and the University of Minnesota.  In 1967 she first came to Concordia Saint Paul and throughout her time here she served in a wide variety of positions, including: Director of instruction, dean of the faculty, vice president for academic affairs, and executive vice president.  She served in several of these positions simultaneously and had to "consult with herself to get a consensus of opinion from her four offices."  Overall she worked at Concordia Saint Paul for over four decades, serving 26 years as a teacher and administrator, 12 years as a member of the board of regents, and 17 years as a retired faculty member. 

                Dr. Meyer's lecture was divided into three main categories.  First she spoke about her own background, then about the history of Concordia, and finally about the future of Concordia as she sees it.  In each of these categories she talked about both the integration of faith and learning and the integration of faith into every aspect of life.  As she was talking about her own background, especially the death of her husband, she focused mainly on integrating faith into an entire lifetime.  Throughout her husband's struggle with Parkinson's disease they remained strong in their faith, a faith Dr. Meyer describes as "a living, daring confidence in God's grace and mercy."  Dr. Meyer then provided the audience with a look at Concordia's past and present presidents.  She pointed out major events during the terms of each, especially those that helped the university progress and integrate faith and learning.  Examples of this include President Hyatt's work to grant women equal pay, President Harre's expansion of the liberal arts program, and President Holst's many building and expansion projects.  Next she focused on the changes and challenges she sees in Concordia's future and how Concordia can work to keep integrating faith and learning in the midst of those challenges.  Two of the main struggles she described were the anti-Christian and anti-intellectual tendencies that are prevalent in today's culture, and the increasing use of technology that is diminishing the classroom experience.  While the question of integrating faith and learning is one that was just assumed 20 or 30 years ago, it is now one that has to be discussed and taken into account because of these and several other challenges.  Dr. Meyer argued that as a Lutheran university it is not enough for Concordia to be just an excellent institution, they must also integrate faith and learning.  She concluded her presentation by saying that all learning should be centered on faith and that the past is history and the present may seem somewhat bleak but the future holds promise. 

                Concordia's honors program really seems to be at the heart of what Dr. Meyer was addressing.  She said the integration of faith and learning is priceless and that the saving grace of Jesus is more valuable than any other knowledge.  I like to think that the honors program is based on that same thinking.  While we strive for knowledge and an excellent education we know that when it comes down to it, what Jesus did for us on the cross is the most important thing.  Dr. Meyer pointed out that the honors program is one of the ways Concordia is working to "keep up" with the future and still remain rooted in the faith.  I think the connections between Dr. Meyer's lecture and the honors program are really quite clear.  Besides the overarching theme of integration of faith and learning, the two are also connected through the technological aspect.  Our study of Religion and Cyberspace connects quite well to Dr. Meyer's discussion of challenges technology will present for education in the future.  Overall I think the honors program is working to investigate and overcome the challenges Dr. Meyer anticipates in the future of integrating faith and learning. 

From the small bit of background information given before the reading, it seems that De La Cruz lived what could be considered a "hard life." Placher describes the circumstances surrounding her birth as "most unpromising" (254).  I have a feeling he was putting it nicely.  She was born an illegitimate daughter, unable to get married because she couldn't provide a dowry, opposed by the Archbishop of Mexico because of her education, and ultimately died of the plague while trying to nurse others back to health.  De La Cruz writes that she even, "Prayed to [God] to extinguish the light of my mind, only leaving sufficient to keep His Law, since any more is overmuch, so some say, in a woman" (254-255).  In my opinion those circumstances are quite a bit more than unpromising.  But in spite of all the difficulties in her life, De La Cruz knew that God had called her to a life of scholarship and study.  Though it wasn't always easy, and she sometimes asked for her calling to be changed so as to ease her burden, she continued to live out her calling with the knowledge that she was doing God's will.  Her example of caring for her sisters in her convent showed that she could serve God through her family life, even if she didn't always want to.  She knew the work she was called to carry out, and she did so even in the face of opposition.

While De La Cruz did remain true to her calling, she didn't do so without a trace of doubt.  She was blessed with the mind and heart of a learner, but without all of the resources from which to learn.  As college students we often complain about having to go to class and deal with professors and other students, but De La Cruz would have loved to learn in a classroom environment.  She writes about "how severe a hardship it is to work not only without a teacher but also without fellow students with whom to compare notes and try out what has been studied" (258).  The things we take for granted are some of the things De La Cruz desired most.  In addition to her lack of formal resources, De La Cruz also faced hardship because of the location she was living her calling out in.  She would have been content to sit and study from dawn until dusk, but she was left to study after her communal duties were done, at times when others were "also free then to come and bother me" (258).  Living in a setting where we are almost constantly surrounded by friends it may seem unusual to view this as a hardship, but to someone who feels in their heart a call to learn these distractions could be a great stumbling block. 

I really have to admire both the way De La Cruz overcame her hardships and how the hardships were introduced into her calling.  From the beginning she knew almost absolutely what God had called her to do.  For me, it's at that point that the hardships begin.  I'm almost inclined to say I would take any hardships that followed if only I could have as clear a calling as she did (I should probably be careful about what I wish for).  While I am gaining a clearer understanding of what my calling is, I can still identify most of my hardships along the discovery path rather than the living out path.  Since I haven't always had an absolute sense of calling (and still don't), and because other restraints kept me from being able to find "the perfect" organization, I don't believe my project organization is a definite part of my calling.  I believe it's a place where God can use me to serve His children in this world, I'm not positive my deep desire is rooted there.  I am happy working there, and most of my hardships have come from time conflicts, transportation issues, and other rather trivial things rather than terrible difficulties, but I don't believe it is the place God has called me to serve out my ministry.  That would make things way too easy J. 

After listening to Dr. Raheb speak I became a really big fan of him.  From the background reading we did it was clear that he is a very well educated, interesting man, with what we would consider a unique background.  But after listening to him speak his sense of humor and overall demeanor made me really appreciate both his speaking style and what he had to say.  When, nearly right away, he made the joke about his great great great great great great great grandmother babysitting Jesus it was clear that he has a presentation style that I enjoy listening to.  After being a little more familiar with Dr. Raheb his sense of humor also becomes recognizable in the reading we did before the convocation.  Though it's not him writing, the fact that Rosemary Radford Ruether described his answer to the question "When did you become a Christian?" in almost a sarcastic way says a lot about the kind of person he is (I Am a Palestinian Christian, vii).  A lot of the background information I learned about Dr. Raheb came from our assigned reading on him.  As a result it is probably all information everyone else already knows, so I don't want to spend a lot of time focusing on it.  There were a lot of interesting things Dr. Raheb had to say and I think it is more beneficial to focus mainly on those points. 

One of the first points Dr. Raheb made, and one of the points that struck me the most, was about being a minority.  He pointed out that the Bible is a book all about the minority.  I have a lot more to say about that but I'm going to try and follow the outline and keep my insights reserved for paragraph number three.  Steaming from the idea of minorities he explained that a lot of Western thinking is backwards about that point.  We tend to automatically assume Palestine is a Muslim country that was recently introduced to Christianity, but in fact the opposite is true.  Another key point Dr. Raheb made had to do with the common culture that exists between the Palestinian Muslims and Christians.  In the sense we've been discussing it, it's as though the public square is the same for both religions.  One doesn't have to go to another square in order to witness, they can be public about their faith within their own square and culture and still reach a different religion.  This is a unique opportunity that exists in the Palestinian world, and it's one that few of us are presented with.  While he made several other points as well, the last one I want to focus on came up while he was talking about the Inter-faith dialogue he helped found.  He pointed out that it became more about coming together and gloating about religion rather than working together to solve the problems that were at hand.  While this may not have been one of his key points, I found it very interesting and I think he pinpointed a problem that exists far beyond religion in Palestine.

The points Dr. Raheb made really got me thinking.  As I said before the first point that really struck me was his point about minorities.  Coming from the Western World I think that's a hard point to grasp.  I'm not used to being the minority.  I suppose if I really took the time to think about it I would discover that being a Christian where I grew up probably made me a minority, but it certainly didn't feel like it.  It's important to remember the Bible is about God choosing and working with the minority.  Though we may forget it at times (and argue about it in class) we don't live in an entirely Christian nation or world.  We are called to be in this world, not of it, and we can't grow too comfortable in our Christian lives and forget that we are God's chosen people living in a world that isn't entirely like us.  Transitioning into Dr. Raheb's last point, that sense of comfort can also give Christians a false sense of entitlement.  I'm pretty sure Dr. Raheb was talking about both Christians and Muslims, but it's a terrible thing when our focus gets shifted from the task that is before us to ourselves.  God knows He's awesome, He doesn't need us to sit around and talk about how awesome He is and how awesome we are for following Him.  If that's what out witness in the public square becomes, we're missing the point.  He wants us to follow Him and serve His people rather than sit around and talk about how we might do that.  What was meant to an arena where two different religions could come together and grow in respect for each other became for Dr. Raheb what a lot of public squares become for today's Christians; an opportunity to boast about religion rather than live it. 

I decided to blog about Ignatius Loyola this week for a few specific reasons.  First, I can kind of relate to the guy.  The background information from Callings tells us that he was sailing through life in one direction as a soldier until he got the wind knocked out of his sails in the form of a serious battle wound.  During his recovery he was forced to reflect and entered a life of austerity.  His example led to the founding of the Jesuits and while at one point Placher compares his writing to that of a cookbook; his Spiritual Exercises have impacted many lives.  Now I can't say that I can relate to all of that, but I can definitely say I've had the wind knocked out of my sails in a way that impacted my life pretty heavily.  I was a saxophonist all through middle school and into high school, but towards the end of my sophomore year my jaw started popping and eventually locking shut.  After visiting an oral surgeon I was told my saxophone playing was aggravating my TMJ, or my Temporomandibular Joint, and I could chose between continuing to play and chewing when I was 50.  I can't say that I was planning on being a professional saxophonist, but nevertheless my life changed pretty dramatically.  I didn't want to give up music, so I switched to guitar.  From there I started playing on youth retreats and my church's worship team and I became more and more involved with the church.  I really started to like church work and from there decided to pursue a church work career.  By knocking the wind out of my sails God showed me a calling in another direction I may have never considered.  So long story short, I think I can understand Ignatius' situation a little.  The second reason I chose to write about him is the fact that his writings frustrate me a little.

The second of Ignatius' decision making methods both frustrates me and gets me frustrated at myself.  He has this method broken up into four rules with a note at the end.  These four rules are to be taken into account during a time of tranquility, which he defines as a time when "the soul is not agitated by diverse spirits, and is freely and calmly making use of its natural powers" (Ignatius, as cited in Callings, p. 241).   I can best translate this as a time when your mind isn't being bombarded by outward distractions and it can think and function the way it was intended to.  First, you are to think about the love you have for the choice you're making, or your motives behind it.  You should only be making the choice if the love is from God and doing so will serve God.  Second you are to think of stranger that you would like to see made perfect, and the way you would suggest they go about doing so.  Apply the same method to yourself and see how your decision fits into that.  For the third rule Ignatius has you jump to your death bed, having you ponder what you decision should be from the end of your life.  In the same way the fourth rule has you look at the decision as though it was the Day of Judgment.  Whichever choice you wish you had made at that point is the one Ignatius believes you should choose.  As a note, Ignatius adds that after following these rules he chooses to offer himself to the Lord following prayer.  That note sets my Lutheran alarm off.  I don't entirely understand the Lutheran perspective on freewill and choice, but I'm pretty sure we don't choose God, He chooses us through Baptism and by giving us the Holy Spirit.  That's my first frustration.  My second frustration is that Ignatius makes it sound so easy.  I struggle with decisions.  I'm an indecisive person that always wants things to work out for the best, so when I have to face a tough a decision, I'm going to be wrestling with it for a while.  I don't see how thinking through these four rules can provide an answer for every decision.  Maybe I'm not tranquil enough. 

That brings me to my frustration with myself.  I've used Ignatius' method without knowing it.  When I was struggling to make a decision about a college and career path I stopped to think about how I would feel at the end of my life, and how I would feel before God.  I was using Ignatius' method, which frustrates me quite a bit, to try and decide my life.  Oh irony.  Since I did kind of think through things in a similar way, I guess I have to say that Ignatius method can help one determine how to live a life of service and praise to God and our neighbors.  We know ourselves pretty well, and if we shift our focus from the present situation to our lives in general, and more specifically the end of our lives, we can gain a better understanding of how we can praise God and still find joy in serving Him.  Before reading Ignatius' I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted my career to be, but in a way I still used his method's to get there.  My project also hasn't really impacted my career decision, but only because my mind was already made up at the start of my project.  I do believe that working through a project like ours could help determine a career path by helping us identify the work we enjoying doing and the need where that joy can fit. 

I'm not quite sure how I feel about Thomas Aquinas' writing.  On the one hand I like that he organizes his writing; on the other I have some trouble following his writing style.  I like the points he brings up, but I can't decide if I appreciate the way he poses objections and then responds.  The background information from Callings tells us that he shocked his noble Italian family when he joined the new Dominican order rather than the Benedictines.  Maybe that's the reason he's so used to defending himself, he probably got into a lot of disagreements with his family over that choice.  Based on that decision I think it's safe to say he doesn't believe religious life should be ordered the Benedictine way.  Also, from his arguments about the contemplative life I would say that Aquinas believes we should be praying Christians rather than working or fighting Christians.  We're also told his theology is kind of an Aristotle - Biblical hybrid.  I didn't know that much about Aristotle's beliefs, so I googled him and came up with this article.  From what I understand, Aristotle believed physical objects, and their potential, were the highest form of reality.  I could be interpreting that wrong, but I don't think Aristotle would be the first person I would look to in order to shape my theology, or at least not Lutheran theology.  Anyway, Aquinas draws some interesting conclusions by shaping his theology with both the Bible and Aristotle.

Of the conclusions Aquinas drew, the one I really like the most was rooted mostly in the Bible, with little or no support from Aristotle (who knows, maybe that's why I liked it).  In Quest 184, a.1 Aquinas asks "Whether the perfection of the Christian life consists chiefly in charity" (Aquinas, as cited in Callings, p. 160)?  In his own argument Aquinas starts off my giving a definition of perfect.  He writes "A things is said to be perfect in so far s it attains its proper end" (p. 161).  Dictionary.com has a slightly different definition. Aquinas makes perfection sound so simple by not including words like "absolutely," beyond practical improvement," or "entirely without flaws" as dictionary.com does.  Simply attaining the proper end is perfection.  He goes on to reference 1 John 4:16 which reads, "He that abideth in charity abideth in God, and God in him."  Since charity connects us with God , Aquinas concludes that "the perfection of the Christian life consists radically in charity" (p. 161).

I almost want to focus more on Aquinas' definition of perfection rather than his answer to the question.   Ok, I do want to focus more on that, but I say almost because the assignment is to reflect on the answer.  I have to say that his conclusion both makes sense and makes me thankful for grace.    As followers of Christ we are called to be "feet washers" and servants of others, so it makes sense that doing those things God calls us to do would be the best way to be in relationship with Him.  But at the same time I know I fall so short of being charitable to others.  On the contrary most of the time I'm probably more selfish and self-centered than charitable.  That's why I'm so thankful we have grace.  What an amazing gift.  Maybe the verse from 1 John is also referring to the charity Christ extends to us.  Not only do we come into relationship with Christ by being charitable to His people, we also get to dwell with Him when we accept the charity He gave His life to extend to us.  I think I have to agree with Aquinas, but only through the Lutheran perspective of not only our charity to others, but Christ's charity to us. 

In this week's readings, we look at Joan of Arc.  The introductory notes from Callings explain that from the age of thirteen, Joan of Arc, the daughter of a peasant, heard voices from God which told her to go to France and fight against the English in the middle of the Hundred Years' War.  These readings, specifically, are taken from the trail and questioning after her capture.  I have to admit I really didn't know that much about Joan of Arc, I think most of what I did know came from a Wishbone book years ago, so it was interesting for me to read a little more about her.  From this passage I think she would say that Christians should work, not because praying and fighting aren't important, but because the Lord calls each of us to carry out His work and we should be willing to respond accordingly.  She would probably also agree that prayer and fighting are quite important, but I think above all she would say that we should be the kind of Christians that do the work the Lord calls us to do.   As for the order of religious life, I'm not sure which she would choose.  From what I know she doesn't appear to have followed a very strict religious order, so it seems like she would side with an order that was based on one's own relationship with God (not that monastic orders aren't focused on the relationship) rather than the rituals.   I could be completely off though, I really don't know.

From the trail excerpts, it seems as though the questioners are trying to catch Joan in a lie, or get her mixed up in her story, or just prove that she's kind of gone off the deep end.  On page 193 they ask her several questions about how she tells the voices apart and whether or not she knows which spoke to her first.  It makes it seem as though they are more interested in proving her wrong that actually investigating what she's saying.  On the other hand, however, the summary of the doctors' opinions sheds a much more positive light on her.  "Having found no evil in her" (Callings 196), they encourage the king to allow her to perform her sign at Orleans, "for to doubt or abandon her without any evidence of evil would be to reject the Holy Spirit, and to abase God's help" (Callings 196).  The two types of material in this section support very different views of Joan and her mission from God.

I'm pretty sure that if I was put on trail as Joan was I would be seen as suspicious.  Maybe not because I truly am, but because I would probably try to make some kind of joke and it would go horribly wrong and I would be sentenced right then and there.  In all seriousness though, I'm not sure I could be as confident as Joan was, so if she was viewed as suspicious I don't see how I could not be.  I'm not sure I entirely understand this question correctly, but I'm interpreting it as "if I was made to testify that my project was a mission from God, would they believe me?"  I have to say no because I wouldn't quite believe me.  I totally believe that God is capable of working through me in my project and that I'm touching lives in a way that could potentially open the door for Him, but the origins of my project pretty much came entirely from an assignment, not from a divine calling.  Part of me feels bad about that, but the other part knows that if I had waited until I felt God was giving me a mission, I might not have gotten started before it was time to graduate.  I am praying and hoping, however, that God really can use my project and make it His mission, no matter how much I keep getting in the way. 

I love to laugh, so in Mechthild's description of the six virtues of St. Dominic, one of her quotes caught my eye.  She lived in the thirteenth century and left her life a daughter in a noble family to join a Beguine community and live a life of prayer and mortification.  This excerpt comes from her book The Flowing Light of the Godhead, which was a description of her visions from God.  As Placher writes, this section "shows her characteristically gentle (but systematic!) approach, her admiration of St. Dominic and the 'Order of Preachers' (Dominicans) he founded, and her ideal of leaders who would be truly the servants of those they lead" (Callings, 150).  I think Mechthild would certainly agree that "I" should be a Christian.  She talks about the transformation from sinner to virtuous being that comes with following God.  I'm not sure, however, how she'd feel about the word public.  Her description of a faithful bride who awakens and thinks of her lover makes me think that her outlook on Christianity is focused on the personal, even intimate, relationship one has with Christ.  I don't mean to say that she would discourage public faith, but I don't think that's her main focus. 

The quote that really stood out to me falls under the heading "The Six Virtues of St. Dominic."  After describing his first four characteristics, Mechthild writes,

And our Lord continued: 'I shall mention two more things.  Whenever Dominic laughed, he did so with true delight of the Holy Spirit.  But when he wept, he wept with such sincerity that first and foremost among his desires he always put his brethren before my eyes and, in addition, with all his strength, Holy Christianity."  Before this I did not know that any laughing could be free of frivolity and not wrong.... (Mechthild, as cited in Callings, 151). 

I feel as if the phrase "gave you a new insight" might be a bit of an exaggeration of my reaction to this quote, but it absolutely made me stop and think.  I don't understand how someone could live their life thinking all laughter was wrong, lacking value or significance, and just flat out buffoon like (I looked up frivolity in my dictionary and acting like a buffoon was in the definition).  I can understand thinking that laughter at really lame jokes (like the ones I try and make a lot) or inappropriate things can be unnecessary, but to say that all laughter, up until the point of St. Dominic, was insignificant and wrong is something I can't fathom.    I'm guessing Mechthild probably wouldn't have liked me.  But, on the other hand, what kind of laughter must St. Dominic have had if it could change such a terrible view?  I wish I had that kind of laughter, laughter "with true delight of the Holy Spirit."  Working with Make-A-Wish, and the wish children, I have a feeling there's going to be some laughter, at least I hope there will be anyways (I speak in future tense because I'm going to be granting my first wish with a child in the near future).  And what laughter could contain more "true delight" than that of child who is having their wildest dream turned into reality?  Maybe "a new insight" is an appropriate term.  Though it sounds kind of cheesy, Mechthild has inspired me to look for laughter containing "the true delight of the Holy Spirit" not just during my project, but everywhere.  Maybe hearing some will help me to stop wasting laughter on frivolous things.    

The story of the life of Antony comes from Athanasius, a theologian of the early church who was driven into exile by several emperors.  While he was in exile in the Egyptian desert he met Antony.  Raised as a Christian, Antony was instilled with the desire to life a life pleasing to God at a young age.  When his parents passed away, leaving him to care for their household and his sister at the age of about twenty, he followed the advice of Matthew 19:21 which reads "If you would be perfect, go and sell what you have and give it to the poor; and come follow me, and you shall have treasure in heaven."  Most of the story takes place after this point and Athanasius describes the trails and joys Antony experienced throughout the rest of his life.  I would say that there was no doubt in Antony's mind that he, and everyone, should be a Christian.  Athanasius even writes, "But when he was grown and arrived at boyhood, and was advancing in years, he could not endure to learn letters, not caring to associate with other boys; but all his desire was, as it is written of Jacob, to live a plain man at home" (Callings, 59).  Antony's foremost desire was to be a plain man of God, just as Jacob had been.  Knowing what he would say about public Christian faith is a little harder.  While I don't think he would ever even consider denying his faith, his years spent in solitude suggest that he believes Christianity is more about the vertical one on one relationship with God rather than the horizontal relationships with his fellow believers. 

At the risk of being a total nerd, I have to admit that Antony's description of his role models brought to my mind Rogue from the X-men.  "One he admired for his endurance, another for his fasting and sleeping on the ground; the meekness of one and the long-suffering of another he watched with care... Thus filled, he returned to his own place of discipline, and henceforth would strive to unite the qualities of each, and was eager to show in himself the virtues of all" (Callings, 61).  While Rogue may have considered her ability to absorb the mutant abilities of those she touched a curse, Antony felt exactly the opposite, and would in fact strive to obtain the virtuous qualities he observed in others.  What a daunting task and an incredible example.  I know that, personally, when I see a characteristic in someone else that I know I lack I'm more likely to complain about it, or even complain that God didn't give it to me, rather than work to change myself.  But because Antony was willing to deny himself and study these people he became "beloved by all" (Callings, 61).  By taking the time and self discipline to learn from his own role models, Antony was able to become a role model to others as well.

I can say that there have been several role models in my life that have helped influence my decision to enter into church work.  One in particular is so devoted to God and turns to Him at every point in her life, studying the Word and devotions on a daily basis.  Another is so eloquent in his faith; he can speak to nearly any audience at a moment's notice.  Unlike Antony, however, while I covet (which in itself is my first down fall) these characteristics, I'm not usually willing to discipline myself until I obtain them.  I hope that someday I can become a role model that has some of those "virtuous" characteristics.  I don't have a reference for it, but I have heard it said that we witness strongly in our vulnerability.  While I may never have all of the characteristics Antony did, I do hope that even in my failings I can still be a role model and a witness to God.