Becoming by Beholding: The Power of the Imagination in Spiritual Formation

By Lanta Davis

We tend to think of the imagination as the realm of fantasy and makebelieve. However, the imagination shapes our vision of reality in that the stories, symbols, and places that capture our hearts become part of who we are.

Becoming by Beholding restores the imagination to its central role in spiritual formation by recovering key works from the Christian tradition, enabling us to experience the formative power of the imagination for ourselves. It also revives "the art of fashioning the soul" as an essential aspect of Christian spiritual formation and character development.

Lanta Davis explains that many of the problems at the heart of the Christian church today--such as nationalism, consumerism, and partisan politics--stem from a crisis of the imagination. She encourages us to reorient our gaze from diseased cultural forms and fix our eyes instead on works from the historic Christian imaginative tradition that better reflect the love, joy, and wonder of the gospel.

Becoming by Beholding will appeal to professors and students in spiritual formation, worldview, and theology and arts courses as well as to all Christian readers interested in the intersection of theology and art. Each chapter introduces a different work of the Christian imagination: icons, sacred architecture, imaginative prayer, bestiaries, and personifications of the virtues and vices. The book also includes a twenty-page insert featuring numerous full-color images.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: Jul 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781493444199

Lanta Davis

Lanta Davis (PhD, Baylor University) is professor of humanities and literature in the John Wesley Honors College at Indiana Wesleyan University in Marion, Indiana. She was named the IWU Outstanding Scholar of the Year for 2020 and was a Fulbright Scholar at Queen's University, Belfast. Her work on the Christian imagination and formation has appeared in Christianity Today, the Christian Century, Smithsonian Magazine, Plough, and Christ and Pop Culture.

Book preview

"Becoming by Beholding is a work to behold. Not only is this book a study in beauty, imagination, and spiritual formation; it also models the very practices it preaches. To read it is to witness beauty and imagination at work and thus to leave its pages better formed and more ready to be formed by all the goodness the world has to offer."

—Karen Swallow Prior, author of The Evangelical Imagination

In a world enamored of the literal and the quantifiable as royal avenues to truth, we need reminders that the way we feed and direct our imagination is crucial to who we become. This valuable volume invites us to pause from stuffing mental fast food into the hungry spaces in our souls and feast instead on gourmet fare from the Christian past. Whether you are drawn more by the dragons, the cathedrals, or the lady virtues, there is food for the Christian imagination here to linger over and savor.

—David I. Smith, director, Kuyers Institute for Christian Teaching and Learning, Calvin University

"The church—Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox—should thank Lanta Davis for this book. It quickens the spirit and delights the heart. Each page reminds you of the astonishing breadth and beauty and magic of the kingdom of God. Through Dr. Davis’s exploration of Scripture, medieval bestiaries, poems, cathedrals, icons, and paintings, our imaginations are reignited! Becoming by Beholding reminds readers of our transcendent God and the absurd faith demanded of his people."

—Jessica Hooten Wilson, Fletcher Jones Chair of Great Books, Pepperdine University

"A contemplative imagination catalyzes Christian transformation. If you don’t believe that, read this book. Becoming by Beholding ushers us into a rich, strange, and beautiful art gallery that unveils our own hearts and minds. Davis’s engaging tour draws deeply from the Christian tradition of spiritual masters to show how the architecture of Chartres Cathedral, iconic imagery of Jesus, Station Island’s stations of the cross, and the literary genius of Dante teem with spiritual insights that reveal Christ and his life in us."

—Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung, professor of philosophy, Calvin University; author of Glittering Vices

Do you think nonfiction is more serious, grown-up, and useful than moving stories, beautiful buildings, and pretty pictures? Let Lanta Davis guide you through the Christian artists and makers who testify across the centuries that the stories and images we behold indelibly shape our souls. This book provides a needed antidote to the kitsch that clutters the hearts and minds of far too many Christians.

—Jeffrey Bilbro, associate professor of English, Grove City College; editor-in-chief, Front Porch Republic

The ‘attention economy’ is exhausting. Overstimulated, we fall captive to fear, cynicism, and despair. In this book, Lanta Davis offers a way of escape—not from reality, but to it. With the wisdom of a master guide, she takes us on a pilgrimage, excavating the riches of the Christian imaginative tradition. The journey is illuminating and surprising, marked by encounters with holiness, the only thing that can heal the eyes of the heart.

—Justin Ariel Bailey, associate professor of theology, Dordt University

© 2024 by Lanta Davis

Published by Baker Academic

a division of Baker Publishing Group

Grand Rapids, Michigan

BakerAcademic.com

Ebook edition created 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4934-4419-9

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations labeled ESV are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition: 2016

Scripture quotations labeled NKJV are from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Figure Credits. Figs. 1, 18, 29–31: Public Domain / Wikimedia Commons; Figs. 2–10: Aberdeen Bestiary / Special Collections Library, University of Aberdeen / CC BY 4.0; Fig. 11: clodio / iStock; Fig. 12: leezsnow / iStock; Fig. 13: Christine944 / iStock; Fig. 14: ValeryEgorov / iStock; Figs. 15–17: Wikimedia Commons / PtrQs / CC BY-SA 4.0; Figs. 19–28: Photos by James Edwards, Courtesy of Lough Derg; Figs. 32, 33, 35, 37, 40: Angelina Cecchetto / iStock; Figs. 34, 36, 38, 39, 41: Lanta Davis; Fig. 42: Daniele Marzocchi / CC BY-SA 4.0 / Wikimedia Commons.

Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and postconsumer waste whenever possible.

For Vince,

my fellow adventure seeker and wonder wanderer

And for my mom, Marlys,

who taught me that the best treasure on earth is a good hug

Contents

Cover

Endorsements    i

Title Page    iii

Copyright Page    iv

Dedication    v

Introduction: The Art of Fashioning the Soul    ix

Part 1. Orthodoxy: Forming Right Belief    1

1. Who Is Jesus, and How Does He Save Us? The Strange and Beautiful Face of Jesus in Icons    3

2. What Is Creation, and What Is Our Place in It? Webs of Wonder in Bestiaries    27

Part 2. Orthopraxy: Forming Right Practice    57

3. How Should We Worship? A Geography for the Soul: A Tour of Chartres Cathedral    59

4. How Should We Read Scripture? Entering the World of the Word with Ignatian Prayer    81

Part 3. Orthopathy: Forming Moral Character    109

5. How Do We Avoid Evil? Dante’s Mirror for the Soul: Unveiling the Ugliness of Sin    111

6. How Do We Become Good? The Art of Virtue: Imitating the Lady Virtues    151

Conclusion    175

Acknowledgments    183

Bibliography    187

Image Gallery    198

Back Cover    199

Introduction

The Art of Fashioning the Soul

Christians live in an enchanted—perhaps even a magical—world. Resurrection overcomes death, wine becomes blood, water imparts salvation. Full of mystery, surprises, and paradoxes, Christianity is a faith of the upside down, a holy, beautiful confusion.

When we are younger, we live within this enchanted world. Life is an adventure, and we are called to battle dragons. We accept that blood could become a rose, that time travel is possible, and that biblical figures can come alive before our eyes. But when we grow up, life may start to feel like a rat race instead of an adventure, and we start to doubt what we once knew. We gradually lose our ability to see this enchanted world for what it is.

Too often we tend to think of the imagination as mere child’s play—fairies, unicorns, and the illusions of youth that must be discarded before becoming a fully developed adult. The imagination, this view assumes, is in opposition to reality. Imaginative works can be entertaining, certainly, but the serious work of ascertaining truth requires serious study of nonfiction. Christians can be especially skeptical of the imagination, looking side-eyed at anything that may be deemed untrue or a distraction.

As common as these views may be today, history presents a very different understanding of the imagination. Traditionally, the imagination has been essential to spiritual and character formation. This view, however, has been buried under the layers of time. With the help of the historic Christian church and some of the visionary artists within the rich and manifold Christian artistic tradition, I hope to conduct an extensive act of restoration, digging into the past to recover the foundational, formational role of the imagination.

This restoration is a twofold process. Its primary aim is to restore the imagination to its central role in spiritual formation. To do so requires simultaneously restoring some of the buried riches in the Christian imaginative tradition. Ancient and medieval Christians compared the imagination to a treasure house, and tradition is the means of passing down the treasures of wisdom from generation to generation. Similar to how an archeologist examines artifacts to understand a historical civilization, so too will we examine artifacts—treasures—of the Christian imagination to understand and encounter the role of the imagination in the historic Christian tradition.

It is also my hope that a third restoration—a restoration of our vision—may happen along the way. Looking through the eyes of Christians from the past is like trying on spectacles that remedy our myopic fixation on the present and give us a more vivid view of the fullness of the gospel.

The Central Role of the Imagination in Early Christian Spiritual Formation

The imagination is inherently connected to our perception of reality. It is the lens through which we see the world and, in large part, constitutes our sense of identity. The Greek word for the imagination, phantasma, is related to the word for light, because just as light can be filtered to affect what we see, so too does the imagination filter our perceptions of ourselves and the world around us.

You’ve probably heard the phrase You are what you eat to describe the relationship between food and our physical bodies, but when it comes to your sense of identity, you become what you behold. The Latin root of imagination is related to the root for imitation, a linguistic relationship that communicates our tendency to copy or model what captures our imagination. We naturally imitate the stories we embrace, the images we consume, the places we inhabit, and the heroes we admire.1

The American imagination is a helpful entryway into thinking about the imagination’s role in our sense of identity. Think, for a moment, about what images and symbols shape your understanding of what it means to be an American. Perhaps the eagle comes to mind, or the flag, or the Statue of Liberty. The places significant in shaping the American imagination might include Ellis Island, Washington, DC, our national parks, or Mount Rushmore. What about the type of stories that are distinctly American? These may be fictional, but they need not be. The fictional stories of the West, including the independent, tough cowboy-protector, have influenced our understanding of what it means to be an American, but so have the narratives of the American dream and the rags to riches ideal of hard work. Narratives of America are also often bound up with a notion of freedom, including retellings of its founding. Its list of heroes often begins with Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and other famous presidents, but it also likely includes more contemporary figures such as Martin Luther King Jr. and others who expanded American ideals like freedom.

Granted, any catalog of the American imagination is certainly not complete or fixed, and it changes depending on who is reflecting on it. Perhaps women might be more likely to add figures such as Susan B. Anthony to the list of heroes, while a physicist might think of Albert Einstein. Regardless of some disagreements about exactly what, where, and who is on the list, however, almost every American citizen can begin to identify distinctive elements of the American imagination, and what does make the list tells us how we think not only about the country but also about ourselves. Once the American imagination has stamped its imprint, its form begins forming our actions and thoughts. For instance, we may judge ourselves and others on the criteria of self-reliance or the American dream without realizing it, or our conception of freedom may lead to choices and understandings of how to exercise freedom that are quite different than those of someone shaped by another imaginative influence.

The American imagination is just one example. Whatever imaginative forms we are immersed in are inscribed on us and become part of us; together, they shape the lens we use to make sense of reality. Our identities may be shaped by any number of influences, such as the sports teams we love, the school we attend, the books we read, the movies we watch, the brands we purchase, and the apps we use.

That we become what we behold is not a new idea. Even our word character reinforces the connection between our identity and image-making. Character originates from the Greek kharaktēr, a stamping tool used to impress an image on a coin. Ancient and medieval thinkers compared the soul to a kind of wax tablet that took on the shape of whatever images were impressed upon it.2 Pliable and moldable, wax does not have a singular shape of its own. It is formed by stamps, or seals, that imprint their distinct images on the warm wax.3 To become a certain kind of person, one selects certain forms to imprint upon one’s soul. Character formation, then, is essentially the process of being formed by forms.

Early Christians understood that this principle applies to spiritual formation. To become Christian—to become Christlike—is a question not just of belief but of identity and is thus a matter not just of the mind but of the imagination. Forming the soul means forming the imagination. Consequently, developing a distinctively Christian character requires stamping the wax of the soul with distinctively Christian forms. This process of intentionally cultivating the imagination became known as the art of fashioning the soul.4

With the bread and wine of the Eucharist held high, Augustine reminds us, Behold what you are and become what you receive.5 His words capture the way our eyes, too, eat what they see, and how we are therefore called to behold Christ so that we may become like Christ. We are called to fix our gaze on Christ (Heb. 12:2) and to clothe [our]selves with him (Rom. 13:14). In Christianity, we look to live.6 We look to learn. We stamp our souls with the seal of God.

The development of the Christian imagination was so intertwined with the development of the Christian faith that it even preceded much of what we might call essential components to Christianity today. Before the canonical books of Scripture were set, before the first ecclesial creeds were formalized, the first generations of Christians began creating a distinctively Christian imagination. The essential truths of Christianity were communicated by intertwining symbols, stories, and beliefs. The fish symbol, for instance, is a very early profession of faith: ichthys, the Greek word for fish, became an anagram for Jesus (i) Christ (ch), God’s (th) Son (y), Savior (s). Early Christians also used anchors, phoenixes, palm branches, and a number of other symbols as ways of professing their beliefs, and the faith grew because of the stories of its martyrs and other heroes who inspired others to follow their example.

Indeed, the majority of Christians have relied chiefly on the imagination as the vehicle for encountering the gospel message. Through much of Christian history, low literacy rates, limitations on access to Scripture, and Latin-language worship services meant the average Christian largely relied on works of the imagination—such as stained glass windows, frescoes, morality plays, mosaics, saints’ stories, and sculptures—to communicate theological truths. For most of the history of the Christian church, the imagination was not considered to be extraneous to, or distracting from, spiritual formation. Rather, the imagination was the very heart—the essential core—of spiritual formation.

The Retreat of the Imagination

So what happened between then and now? The answer is complicated, of course, and fully answering it would require a different book than this one. One significant part of the change can be traced to the Reformation. Protestant leaders such as John Calvin and Oliver Cromwell recognized the imagination’s connection with theological belief. Consequently, when they broke from Catholic doctrine, they also broke artifacts of the Catholic imagination. Church walls were whitewashed, stained glass windows smashed, and religious images and objects destroyed.7

Iconoclastic Protestant leaders were understandably concerned with the excesses of the Catholic church at the time of the Reformation, but the swiftness and totality of the break with so much of the church’s imaginative tradition led to unforeseen consequences that are still with us today. Calvin led a charge for eliminating art in churches in part out of his belief that the human heart is a factory of idols.8 His belief is rightly rooted in our proclivity as humans to fashion our own gods. But eliminating images in worship does not eliminate idol worship, and erasing an imaginative tradition does not erase the formative power of the imagination.9

Ironically, in largely ignoring the powerful role the imagination plays in spiritual formation, contemporary Christians are more vulnerable than ever to alternative imaginative influences contrary to the spirit of the gospel. Paul warns us not to conform to the patterns of our age (Rom. 12:2). It is normal to be influenced by a wide range of images and stories, but some patterns can malform and distort our vision of the gospel and reality. The imagination, like the body, becomes unhealthy with neglect and an unhealthy diet. If we do not exercise the imagination by actively fashioning the soul with an orthodox Christian imagination, we are more likely to imprint unhealthy patterns of our age upon the wax of the soul in its stead.

Take the famous example of Don Quixote. Don Quixote feasts on the chivalric imagination, filling himself so full of images and stories about knights, adventures, and courtly love that he begins to see himself—and everyone else—through this imaginative lens. He puts on a coat of armor, hops on his old horse, and goes off in search of knightly adventures. No matter who he meets or where he goes, he sees everything as if it were one of his adventure books: a run-down inn becomes a castle and an ugly, scheming woman a beautiful maiden in need of rescue. Most famously, Don Quixote chases windmills in the mistaken belief that he is ferociously fighting giants. He is so shaped by the knightly imagination that no arguments can convince him that he is anything but a shining, heroic knight.

The chivalric imagination was a powerful pattern in Don Quixote’s age. Today we may not be putting on a coat of arms and brandishing a sword, but our imaginations have largely been shaped by the patterns of our age: Facebook and Instagram posts, twenty-four-hour news headlines and partisan politics, Netflix bingeing and Marvel movies. With the art of fashioning the soul largely buried under the layers of time, our beliefs, practices, and character are being imprinted by alternative imaginations. Our images of Jesus often bear little resemblance to the Jesus of the Gospels. We read our Bibles like we read our social media feed. Our heroes wear capes or shout partisan rhetoric. Our churches look like sports stadiums and shopping malls.

By forgetting to train the imaginative eye, we have largely lost sight of who we are and who we were called to become. We are not so different from Don Quixote chasing windmills. We too may be guilty of seeing a reality completely divorced from the reality we inhabit.

These unhealthy, imprinted patterns resemble idols, because they prevent us from seeing God and reality clearly. John Kavanaugh calls alternative visions of reality competing gospels to the gospel of Christianity, in that they serve as ultimate and competing ‘forms’ of perception, through which we filter all of our experience.10

Consider the gospel of Christian nationalism. Christian nationalism’s mythic origin story depicts America as uniquely blessed by God. But that relationship is under threat and must be defended by strong, protective heroes. Christian nationalism has slogans (God Bless America, Take America Back for God) and songs (God Bless the U.S.A, etc.), and it pairs Christian symbols with American ones, combining Jesus’s name, the Bible, or the cross with American flags, eagles, and even guns. Its heroes may include John Wayne, Ronald Reagan, and the military. The imagination of Christian nationalism provides a powerful, cohesive sense of identity and purpose by forming people who believe they are part of a special place blessed by God and have been tasked to protect that relationship.

Christian nationalism may appear to align with Christianity, but it actually counteracts it. Its way of looking at the world—which embraces messages of violence, exceptionalism, exclusivity, success, and power—is often at odds with the gospel of Jesus, which preaches charity, self-sacrifice, and humility.11 Jesus’s favor is not limited to one country; in fact, his kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36). The good news is offered to all people from all nations and is not meant for a particular place or people alone. Such is the power of the imagination of Christian nationalism on its adherents’ sense of identity and belonging that Christian nationalists often do not see—or do not care about—such contradictions between their positions and Scripture, orthodox creeds, or Christian practices.12

Competing imaginative frameworks like Christian nationalism distort our imaginative lens and malform our visions of God and reality, meaning that, like Don Quixote, there is often a significant gap between what Christians profess and their everyday, lived realities. Some of the most pressing problems facing the church today are rooted in a failure of the imagination, yet we often try to fix them as if they were political or intellectual problems for which the solution lies in arriving at the correct theory or stance. But logic does not work on a diseased imagination. Don Quixote’s imagination has been convinced, so while many people try to reason with him, his mind cannot be changed.

The only way to correct a malformed imagination is by re-forming the imagination. Becoming a people formed in the image of God rather than after the patterns of our age requires a new vision, a new form. It requires us to reorient our gaze and behold distinctively Christian images so that we can become a people distinctively shaped by the gospel.

Looking to the past often helps us diagnose and correct the myopic visions and unhealthy patterns of the present. Ancient and medieval Christians understood the imagination not only as something active and creative but also as something received. The imagination, they believed, belonged to the same part of the soul as the memory.13 The imagination gives concrete form to abstract notions and thus helps ensure that we remember what we have learned.

Tradition, too, is a way of remembering what we have learned. Tradition, or the democracy of the dead, as G. K. Chesterton calls it,14 reminds us to look at how the Holy Spirit has worked over time, through a wide variety of people, institutions, and events. It can help us see beyond the limited perspective of our own time and place. Consequently, in contrast to our tendency to see identity as something either fixed (You be you!) or self-created (You can be whoever you want to be!), the art of fashioning the soul first turns to the collective memory of the Christian tradition. The wisdom of the past can help show us not only how to become but who to become.

Happily, Christians of the past have left us with a bountiful inheritance of the imagination. The historic Christian imaginative tradition has bequeathed to us the resources required to establish a distinct identity rooted not in today’s corrosive, malforming patterns but in a love, gratitude, and sense of wonder rooted in the good news of the gospel. We simply have to claim it.

The Road to Restoration

This book is a kind of archeological dig into the historic Christian imaginative tradition, a restoration project that aims not just to show us our past but to help us understand our present. In each of the following chapters, we will encounter a work from the historic Christian imaginative tradition; examine how it was used to shape Christian beliefs, practices, and character; and contrast it to some of the malformations and distorted visions caused by the patterns of our age. In this way, we will both learn about and also practice the art of fashioning the soul.

The imagination imitates, and so our restoration project is modeled, in part, on another person’s journey to restore his vision: the apostle Paul. Paul is converted not by reason but by a vision. He has an encounter. Blinded by his desire to persecute and murder Christians, Paul experiences a conversion of the eyes after seeing a light from heaven. Disoriented and confused, he cannot proceed as planned. He must be led by others to Damascus. When Ananias, who had a vision of his own telling him to restore Paul’s eyesight, places his hands on Paul, something like scales fell from [his] eyes, and he could see again (Acts 9:18).15

The strange and beautiful treasures of the Christian imagination will help us re-create Paul’s pilgrimage of the eyes. Paul did not realize he was walking the wrong path, but what he sees stops him in his tracks. Encountering something unexpected and strange is disorienting, and it helps us wake up from the hazy slumber of the familiar and habitual. The works of the Christian imagination tend to be a bit odd, rather off-kilter and surprising. Seeing the complex and beautiful colors of the Christian vision of reality helps us recognize the ways our eyes have perhaps grown cloudy and distorted. Their strange beauty disorients us from our distorted, downward gaze and then reorients us, turning our gaze heavenward.

Each chapter therefore begins with a strange encounter. Though I cannot promise these encounters will deliver the drama of Paul’s vision, we will meet a woman with two faces, a man with two different eyes, and a group of people whose eyes are sewn shut. We’ll also see stone people, fairy-tale-like mirrors, dragons, and several other strange, light-filled, life-altering visions. (To see with the eyes what I describe in words, turn to the full-color image gallery. Each reference to a figure or fig. directs you to an image in the gallery.)

After his vision, Paul does not go on walking, but stops. After each initial encounter, we will pause to assess our surroundings. When we are startled, we tend to widen our eyes and look around. We will look anew at some of our habitual ways of seeing. How have we perhaps been walking on the wrong path without realizing it? How have our eyes been malformed by the patterns of our age? What ways might they be limiting or distorting our vision of the gospel?

Paul needed someone to guide him to Damascus. He needed to be willing to accept help. All spiritual formation begins with humility. The Christian thinkers who compared the soul to wax said that wax must first be warmed up so that it can be pliable and moldable. If it is already hardened, the wax might break, and it will not receive the seal’s imprint. To become formed in the image of Christ requires the willingness to be formed—to receive rather than to control. Otherwise, we are like those in Scripture who have a hardened heart and refuse to see what is right in front of them.

After pausing to look around, we will look to the historic Christian tradition to guide us. Our wise Christian brothers and sisters have a lot to teach and show us. We will look to those who have walked the path before us, so that they might hold our hand and take us down the road of faith.

Then we will move in for a closer look at the imaginative artifact we briefly encountered at the beginning of the chapter. We will fix our gaze on it, letting the work touch our eyes as Ananias touches Paul. It is my hope that each work may help the scales fall off our eyes so that we can see God anew. We will attempt to fix (correct) our gaze by fixing (focusing) our gaze.

Paul’s initial disorienting encounter was not the end but the beginning of a lifelong journey of fixing his eyes on Christ. Likewise, we will end each chapter by looking forward to where we might go—and what we might see—with our newly refined eyes.

In sum, each chapter will invite you to exercise your eyes by fixing your gaze on a strange encounter, looking around at the present, looking back to the past, looking closer at the imaginative work, and looking ahead to the next steps.

Chapter Road Map

On the road through this book, we will encounter some of the weird and wonderful artifacts of the Christian imagination. These encounters will introduce how Christians of the past practiced fashioning the soul as a part of spiritual formation. The chapters that follow develop the triad of spiritual formation by imprinting distinctively Christian beliefs (orthodoxy), practices (orthopraxy), and moral character (orthopathy).

In chapter 1 we will encounter an icon that helps us better understand who Jesus is and why we call him Savior. The icon’s theologically rich symbolism acts as an antidote to the sentimental, generic Jesus images popular in Christian gift shops as well as to the militant Jesus of Christian nationalism. In chapter 2 the unicorns, phoenixes, and rainbow-colored panthers of bestiaries will help us better understand our relationship with the natural world. By envisioning creation as a mirror of its Creator, the strange creatures of the bestiaries train us to see our everyday world with a sense of wonder and gratitude. Learning to see the rest of creation as something with which we are interdependent, rather than as something that exists for