In an earlier entry, I defined faith-integration for librarianship as “one’s effort to practice and understand how Jesus Christ can be displayed as Lord of all domains through librarianship.” I also noted the critical roles epistemology and revelation play in implementing faith integration. Apart from the conviction that all truth is God’s truth and, subsequently, that differing academic disciplines can speak to each other (epistemology), and that God speaks through the ordinary (general revelation), faith integration crashes and burns (cf. Estes, 2019). Yet even the most rigorous theology must yield to love, for revelation’s goal is not mastery but communion. The Message recovers the poetic immediacy of Paul’s vision:
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.
Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have. Love doesn’t strut, Doesn’t have a swelled head, Doesn’t force itself on others, Isn’t always “me first,” Doesn’t fly off the handle, Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, Doesn’t revel when others grovel, Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, Puts up with anything, Trusts God always, Always looks for the best, Never looks back, But keeps going to the end (1 Corinthians 13:3-7, The Message)
Acknowledging Jesus Christ’s lordship over all domains implies that love is central. In other words, I cannot be a faithful librarian apart from love: loving God, loving patrons, loving co-workers, loving my supervisor, loving my family, and loving strangers. Even if every reference interview I conduct gives a patron access to God’s truth, without love for the patron, my work is in vain. Teaching a one-shot information literacy session may help students discover more about God, but when I fail to express love toward the instructor who invited me, my efforts become futile. Similar to trying to find a book without a call number, striving to be a faithful librarian apart from love is pointless.
Why do I write this? Just as a conductor orchestrates beautiful music by elegantly using all instruments, so a librarian who integrates faith gracefully strives to fuse love for God and love for neighbor into their professional endeavors. Love bonds theology with librarianship. My blog entries tend to be technical, exploring critical premises. If I do this, however, without love, writing these entries (and the attempt to put what I write into practice) is merely “the creaking of a rusty gate” (1 Corinthians 13:1, The Message).
As we enter the Christmas season, may we embrace God’s act of love revealed in the birth of Jesus Christ. “When the time came, he (Jesus) set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process” (Philippians 2:6–7, The Message, emphasis in original). Faith-integration’s purpose is to encourage serious, faithful, humble thinking, leading to truly knowing God, loving God, and loving others. Such a process empowers an understanding of how Jesus Christ can be displayed as Lord of all domains through librarianship and enables the faithful librarian to manifest God’s love in all facets of the profession. Faith integration failing to manifest God’s truth in love reeks like a rotten vegetable and, similarly, should be trashed. I am hopeful that these entries reflect God’s loving nature and become like fresh, vital, and appealing garden-fresh vegetables, nourishing faithful librarians.
Because the works of Jesus Christ, both his birth (his setting aside the privileges of deity) and his death, burial, and resurrection, were acts of love, faith integration also begins and ends with love. It is love that interprets knowledge rightly, love that redeems our professional labor, and love that bears witness to the Lordship of Christ through the profession of librarianship. To love in this way is to practice the gospel within the stacks, behind the desk, and on the screen—to manifest the Word who became flesh through the joyful work of ordering, serving, and giving. May every cataloged record, every information literacy session, every patient reference interview whisper the reality that God so loved the world. For when our vocation is steeped in that love, our labor will not be in vain.
Reference
Estes, D. J. (2019). Psalm 19, Revelation, and the Integration of Faith, Learning, and Life. In A. J. Spencer (Ed.), The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis (pp. 48–57). Wipf & Stock.
This entry explores the persistent ambiguity surrounding the concept of “information,” focusing on how Library and Information Science (LIS) scholars can benefit from integrating Werner Gitt’s theory of Universal Information (UI) with José María Díaz Nafría’s multidimensional framework. While Díaz Nafría’s threefold syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic model illuminates the layered complexity of the term, it stops short of providing a definition. Gitt’s Universal Information extends this conversation through a fourth, apobetic dimension—emphasizing purpose as the ultimate determinant of meaning. By mapping key LIS theories (Bates, Buckland, Cornelius, Pratt) to this unified fourfold model, this paper argues that Gitt’s framework provides a constructive tool for aligning philosophical, operational, and theological understandings of information. In doing so, it highlights how information, properly conceived, is never neutral but inherently purposive—directed toward ordered understanding and transformative knowledge. This synthesis not only clarifies how “information” functions within scholarly discourse but also opens new pathways for understanding librarianship as a purposeful vocation grounded in meaning, context, and intentionality.
FULL ENTRY:
Does any word cry ambiguity as frequently as “information”? Everyone speaks about information with confidence, but when asked how, precisely, one defines information, the conversation soon resembles a lively Bible study: thoughtful interpretations abound, no two quite the same, and consensus lingers. Sadly, despite its critical role in Library and Information Science (LIS), much scholarly literature aiming to define the term “information” faces similar challenges. Werner Gitt’s concept of Universal Information (UI), read alongside José María Díaz Nafría’s dimensional model, clarifies the philosophical and operational boundaries of the term. By mapping leading LIS definitions to Gitt’s depiction, this entry proposes UI as a foundational tool for an interdisciplinary understanding of information.
Gitt’s UI stands as a promising beacon in conversations about what information truly means. But to engage his concept thoughtfully, it will be helpful to establish a broader context. Díaz Nafría’s (2010) multidimensional framework provides precisely this—mapping out the syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic aspects and how they shape how we understand information. Starting with Díaz Nafría’s (2010) comprehensive structure provides a foundation for assessing Gitt’s definition and helps us understand how UI fits within the larger tapestry of information theory.
Díaz Nafría (2010) observed a decades-long trend in which the scientific use of the concept of information became more precise yet less manageable, creating greater tension in efforts to provide a straightforward definition (p. 78). Subsequently, Díaz Nafría (2010) argues that the term “information” remains deeply ambiguous in contemporary discourse, balancing its historical roots with diverse interpretations shaped by everyday use and scientific precision. This ambiguity is heightened by tensions between rigid, mathematical theories and open, complex models across different disciplines and cultural contexts (pp. 77–78). Díaz Nafría (2010) uses a “dimensional approach” (pp. 84–87) to address information’s ambiguous nature, highlighting how three dimensions can clarify the term “information”: syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic. Such a process aims to clarify by examining the “scope and intention of the different information concepts” (Díaz Nafría, 2010, p. 84).
Díaz Nafría’s (2010) syntactic dimension looks at how information is expressed or structured (p. 84). For example, the physical shape, color (red), and letters “STOP” are the raw signals or symbols on a stop sign, and they are presented this way to create meaning. The physical symbols—the shape, color, and letters—function at the level of syntax; they are organized in a recognizable form. Just as the components of the red stop sign express syntax, likewise, a Library of Congress call number has syntax: SB1.A65 I55 2010. For a call number, the syntactic level focuses on the arrangement of letters, numbers, and punctuation according to cataloging rules. If I argued that SBIA 16520.0155 was a Library of Congress call number, I would likely be considered silly because this number does not follow the structure (or syntax) of a Library of Congress call number. Perhaps this is similar to what it might be like to see a green square-shaped sign with the letters “SOTP.” Awkward! The syntactic dimension does not focus on what the information means (although changes at the syntactic level do impact this), but on the way the call number (or stop sign) expresses the information (Díaz Nafría, 2010, p. 84). The call number SB1.A65 I55 2010 follows the syntax of a Library of Congress call number, and the octagon-shaped red sign with the letters “STOP” conforms to familiar norms. Therefore, I can use syntax to proceed to Díaz Nafría’s next level—the semantic component—to understand what they are communicating. Although SBIA 16520.0155 and a green square-shaped stop sign may adhere to specific rules, neither conforms to the protocols we are familiar with. Subsequently, they cannot be considered information apart from the establishment or discovery of rules; in other words, until one has syntax.
Díaz Nafría’s (2010) next dimension is semantic. The semantic dimension examines what the information means in specific contexts. When I am driving and see a red octagon-shaped sign with the letters “STOP,” I recognize it as a stop sign. Semantic typically refers to meaning in the context of language or logic. Many people in developed nations are familiar with the red, yellow, and green of traffic lights and their use on roads and streets internationally. However, if someone driving saw a stop sign and was unfamiliar with the language and logic behind traffic signals, they would likely run right through it because the red stop sign would have little to no meaning. Similarly, in the context of the Library of Congress call number, SB1.A65 I55 2010 bears little meaning if one is not familiar with the semantics of a library and a library call number (knowing that “SB” is a subfield of “S,” that “2010” represents a date of publication, etc.). Lacking semantics, an individual with this call number is like a driver approaching a four-way intersection with a red octagon-shaped sign displaying the letters “STOP,” yet unaware that they actually need to stop. Both contexts, lacking semantics, brew potential devastation.
Semantics point to pragmatics: the actual impact or use of the information. In the context of the stop sign, the driver, having understood the syntax and semantics, applies the brakes and stops the car. The pragmatic effect depends on the situation: obeying the sign to prevent an accident and conforming to social and legal rules in context. Similarly, Díaz Nafría’s (2010) third information dimension is pragmatic; how does one value or use the information in a particular context? In a library, the call number SB1.A65 I55 2010 has little value unless used to actually locate the book. A curious student researching international agriculture wants to confirm whether this work will help them understand contemporary issues in the field. Therefore, in assisting the student, a librarian takes them to a book with this call number. The librarian uses the information to find the book. In a pragmatic context, the usefulness of the information plays a central role.
While Díaz Nafría’s (2010) three dimensions provide a framework, illuminating information’s scope and ambiguity, they do not themselves define the concept. Werner Gitt (2023), in his book, Information: The Key to Life, takes Díaz Nafría’s work one step further and defines information. Gitt (2023), aligning with many scholars who aim to determine the meaning of information (cf. Belkin, 1975, p. 54; Buckland, 1991, p. 351; Capurro & Hjørland, 2003, p. 354; Dretske, 1981, p. 44; Floridi, 2005, p. 351; Gabor, 1953, p. 2; Jones, 2010, para. 7; Machlup, 1962, p. 14; Nonaka & Takeuchi, 1995, p. 58; Qvortrup, 1993, p. 7), notes “(t)he word ‘information,’ as it is used in everyday language, is somewhat vague and subject to confusion…” (p. 18). Gitt (2023) labels his definition as “Universal Information,” abbreviated as UI (p. 18), to avoid ambiguity or misunderstanding.
Gitt’s (2023) UI has four components:
Symbolically encoded – The message uses symbols (e.g., words, numbers).
Abstractly represented – Goes beyond physical forms; meaning is not tied to medium.
Oriented towards action – Delivers instructions for performing specific tasks or responses.
Directed by purpose – Includes the purpose or objective of the message (p. 86).
Gitt’s (2023) first three elements align closely with Díaz Nafría’s (2010) dimensions. Gitt’s (2023) first component, “symbolically encoded,” refers to the way information is represented using symbols—such as letters, numbers, or genetic codes—rather than the actual things themselves (p. 43). Similar to Díaz Nafría’s (2010) syntactic dimension, in the context of a stop sign, Gitt’s (2023) symbolically encoded component implies that it contains encoded symbols intended for a receiver to decode (p. 43). Similarly, a call number like SB1.A65 I55 2010 combines letters and numbers to represent specific details about a book, such as its subject, author, and publication date. While each part within the call number carries a particular meaning, Gitt’s focus is on the symbols used to encode information according to agreed-upon rules, which are then decoded by a receiver.
Gitt’s (2023) second element of UI includes abstract representation as a symbol or sign that carries meaning beyond its physical form, which he refers to as semantics (p. 91). For example, a red stop sign is more than just a red octagon—it is an abstract representation that conveys the meaning “stop,” which drivers understand through shared knowledge and conventions. Semantics is the bridge that connects those abstract symbols to their meaning. Without this semantic layer, the stop sign’s shape and color would be meaningless marks. Gitt emphasizes that both the creation and interpretation of meaning require intelligence, making the semantic level crucial for information to have purpose and be understood within UI. Similarly, Díaz Nafría (2010) notes that when given information, an individual automatically looks for meaning and context, in other words, its semantic domain (p. 84). In the example of the Library of Congress call number stated above, patrons do not merely gaze at it; they strive to understand its meaning. Because one uses the Library of Congress call number in a specific arena (a library), this context allows the patron to know that a call number — a coded form of alphanumeric characters — represents the book’s identity and essential information; it conveys meaning without directly describing the book itself.
Gitt’s (2023) third dimension is pragmatic (p. 62). This bears striking similarities to Díaz Nafría’s (2010) third category, which bears the same label. Both Díaz Nafría (2010) and Gitt (2023) note that information is always presented with some kind of response. In the context of the stop sign, the pragmatic component (in most contexts) is fairly straightforward: STOP! Similar to how a driver who sees a stop sign should not simply ignore it and plow through the intersection, a library patron given a call number for a book with the title, The International Dimension of the American Society of Agronomy, is not expected to just leave the library or to crumple up the paper upon which the call number was written and throw it away. Such action would be vulgar. Instead, the call number acts as a guide or address that helps the patron locate the specific book within the library collection. At a minimum, one expects the patron will go to the book’s location and retrieve it. Alternatively, if in a hurry, the patron may write the call number somewhere to prevent it from being misplaced, explaining their apparent rudeness and indicating their intention to attend to it later.
Thus, while both theorists emphasize the pragmatic expectation of a prompt response, Gitt advances the discussion by questioning the response’s ultimate purpose. In doing so, he develops information’s fourth component: apobetics. The apobetic domain “refers to the intended goal, the purpose, that the sender wishes to achieve” (Gitt, 2023, p. 68). Gitt (2023) argues that this component is critical because the individual sending information does so for a purpose (p. 68). Gitt develops apobetics constructively by asking: “For what purpose has this information been sent?” Gitt’s UI demands that the call number has a purpose (cf. Puddefoot, 1992, pp. 15, 19–20). For example, in this context, the librarian provides the book’s call number to help the patron locate it for their research.
The apobetic domain comes into play with Library of Congress call numbers because by following its protocol, books on similar topics will be nearby. The Library of Congress’s classification is based on the assumption (valid in many cases) that a person looking for a work will be interested in other works on similar topics. Subsequently, the call number system orders the library’s holdings, placing works by topic and directing researchers and readers to sections related to the information they seek. Aligning with Gitt’s apobetic domain, the structure undergirding the Library of Congress call numbers enables creative engagement by enabling connections, comparisons, and syntheses of texts on similar topics. The Library of Congress call number also exemplifies Puddefoot’s (1992) claim: information reveals its true nature and purpose only when situated within a broader, meaning-bearing context (pp. 22–23). Just as divine information in God’s Word orders creation, sustains possibility, and makes relationship and creativity possible (Puddefoot, 1992, pp. 10–11, 14–15, 22–23), so the humble call number, meaningless on its own, becomes an instrument of order, direction, and meaning when embedded in the dynamic system of the library and utilized by the patron. For faithful librarians, information always has purpose, never incidental, but integral—rooted in creation and reflecting divine intentionality at every level of meaning (cf. Puddefoot, 1992).
As noted earlier, covenant epistemology suggests that knowledge has two parts: listening to trusted authorities and following their instructions, so that the learner can rightly perceive and inhabit what is being disclosed (cf. Johnson, 2015, loc. 481). Gitt’s definition eloquently aligns by implying that information cannot simply be left at a syntactic (that we understand it) or pragmatic (that we know what to do) level; individuals involved in information exchanges must also embrace the apobetic component (understand why such an exchange is taking place). Understanding the crucial role of Gitt’s (2023) apobetic domain emphasizes the intended goal of information: not merely to transmit signals but to create the conditions under which meaning and coordinated understanding—critical for transformation—can occur (cf. Main, 2024; Patrontasch, 2025; van Ruler, 2018). Subsequently, Gitt’s apobetic domain of information creates a fertile soil upon which knowledge (i.e., perceiving and inhabiting what is being disclosed) can flourish.
While Díaz Nafría’s (2010) and Gitt’s (2023) discussions correspond well, a vast amount of LIS literature also aligns eloquently with Gitt’s definition. In her article “Fundamental Forms of Information,” Marcia Bates (2006) addresses the ambiguity surrounding the ways people define information by proposing a foundational understanding: information is “the pattern of organization of matter and energy” (p. 1033). Bates’s (2006) definition fits into Gitt’s syntactic frame, emphasizing structure and arrangement, but lacking meaning (p. 1041). Similarly, in his essay, “Theorizing Information for Information Science,” Ian Cornelius (2002) notes how information arises only in a context with incomplete knowledge (p. 403), aligning with both the semantic and pragmatic dimensions, stressing information’s functional role in reducing uncertainty and driving purposeful engagement with knowledge. In his article, “Information as Thing,” Michael Buckland (1991) concisely differentiates between “information-as-thing” (p. 353) and “information-as-knowledge” (p. 351), mapping onto the syntactic (material representations) and semantic (meaningful content) frames, with his emphasis on information’s capacity to facilitate transformation reflecting the pragmatic dimension. Finally, Allan Pratt (1977) conceptualizes information as an event shaping an individual’s internal image of reality. This situates his work firmly within the pragmatic frame, while also implying apobetic considerations by underscoring information’s role as a transformative agent (pp 208, 215). As Table 1 below indicates, these interpretations demonstrate how diverse definitions of information can be coherently situated within Gitt’s framework, highlighting its potential for integrating other existing or emerging definitions. Subsequently, Gitt’s four frames provide a structured approach for understanding the multifaceted nature of information across disciplines and epistemologies.
Framework
Syntax
Semantic
Pragmatic
Apobetic
Gitt (2023)
✓
✓
✓
✓
Díaz Nafría (2010)
✓
✓
✓
Bates (2006)
✓
Cornelius (2002)
✓
✓
Buckland (1991)
✓
✓
✓
Pratt (1977)
✓
✓
Table 1
Despite information’s ambiguous nature, Gitt’s (2023) UI provides a working definition aligning with the literature: “… a symbolically encoded, abstractly represented message conveying the expected action(s) and the intended purpose(s). In this context, ‘message’ is meant to include instructions for carrying out a specific task or eliciting a specific response” (p. 86). The question still remains: “So what?” The following entry on this topic will examine how this definition might influence the practices of faithful librarians.
References
Bates, M. J. (2006). Fundamental forms of information. Journal of the American Society for Information Science, 57(8), 1033–1045. https://doi.org/10.1002/asi.20369
Belkin, N. J. (1975). Towards a definition of information for informatics. In V. Horsnell (Ed.), Informatics 2: Proceedings of a conference held by the Aslib Co-ordinate Indexing Group on 25-27 March 1974 at New College, Oxford (pp. 50–56). ASLIB.
Capurro, R., & Hjørland, B. (2003). The concept of information. In Annual Review of Information Science and Technology (Vol. 37, pp. 343–411). Information Today. https://doi.org/10.1002/aris.1440370109
Cornelius, I. (2002). Theorizing information for information science. In Annual Review of Information Science and Technology (Vol. 36, pp. 393–425). Information Today. https://doi.org/10.1002/aris.1440360110
Díaz Nafría, J. M. (2010). What is information? A multidimensional concern. tripleC: Communication, Capitalism, and Critique, 8(1), 77–108. https://doi.org/10.31269/triplec.v8i1.76
Dretske, F. (1981). Knowledge and the flow of information (1st MIT Press ed.). MIT Press.
Puddefoot, J. C. (1992). Information and creation. In C. Wassermann, R. Kirby, & B. Rordorf (Eds.), The science and theology of information: Proceedings of the Third European Conference on Science and Theology, Geneva, March 29 to April 1, 1990 (pp. 7–25). Labor et Fides.
Qvortrup, L. (1993). The controversy over the concept of information: An overview and a selected and annotated bibliography. Cybernetics and Human Knowing, 1(4), 3–24.
van Ruler, B. (2018). Communication theory: An underrated pillar on which strategic communication rests. International Journal of Strategic Communication, 12(4), 367–381. https://doi.org/10.1080/1553118X.2018.1452240
In this post, I share how I struggled with dualism—the false separation between the sacred and the secular—and how discovering the concept of faith integration transformed my perspective on librarianship and life. I explain that integrating faith and learning means submitting every area of my life, including my professional work, to the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and I explore how both epistemology (how we know what we know) and the doctrine of revelation (how God reveals truth through both creation and Scripture) are foundational to this process. I reflect on how general revelation, seen in the order and structure of creation, and special revelation, found in Scripture and Christ, both shape my approach to serving others in the library. Ultimately, I argue that true faith integration goes beyond simple professionalism or courtesy; it calls me to practice radical love, patience, and service, even when it’s difficult because these actions reflect God’s character and grace in every interaction.
FULL ENTRY:
I often see a challenge in integrating faith and learning. The same challenge appears when integrating faith into almost any aspect of life. This challenge is called dualism. In the context of the Christian faith, dualism frequently assumes a chasm between the private and the public, between the natural and the supernatural, and between God’s work in the spiritual realm of our soul and spirit and God’s work in the physical arena. Because of this dualism, I often assumed that while the spiritual has a bearing on my personal life, it has little to no bearing on other aspects, like my professional endeavors. This assumption drove me crazy. In a somewhat infamous idea (often taken out of context), many use a statement made by the early church father, Tertullian, to justify this separation or dualism. Tertullian (n.d.) rhetorically asked: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” (chapter 7), implying that Athens and Jerusalem (what some today assume to be identical, respectively, to “secular” and “sacred”) had no commonality and subsequently should not be joined. However, the idea that God’s salvation impacts our souls (sacred) but has little bearing on the rest of our lives (which some consider to be “secular”) brews problems. Dualism often infers that God’s work is limited to the spiritual and personal arena, making one’s faith challenging to apply to many arenas of life, including librarianship. The Lordship of Jesus Christ demands that faithful librarians look at life differently, or as Abraham Kuyper (1988) fervently stated, “(t)here is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, Mine!” (p. 461).
It was an “aha” moment when I had my first exposure to faith integration. I began to see the possibility of submitting every square inch of my life (family, church, work, personal endeavors) to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Faith integration countered the dualism I had incorrectly assumed, and fortunately, the idea of dualism quickly shattered. I was astonished at how easily my presupposition of dualism was crushed. Much of what I practiced and learned about librarianship began to connect with my Christian faith. The context for exploration regarding what faith integration might look like in librarianship seemed ripe and ready for harvest. Why did this connection come quickly for me? In an essay by Daniel Estes (2019), he notes that two critical components undergird faith integration: epistemology and revelation. When I started my work trying to understand how my faith should drive librarianship, a fair amount of work in epistemology resulted. Librarians deal with information, and there is much dialog on the connection between information and knowledge/wisdom. While epistemology was a reasonably new field, my theological background familiarized me with the dialogs, making it easy to jump into the conversations. I connected the dots even further thanks to my recent reading of Estes’ (2019) essay. I began to see how my understanding of the doctrine of revelation, specifically general revelation, in addition to epistemology, played a critical role in my faith integration journey.
The concept of information often has strong connections with knowledge. Subsequently, for Library and Information Science, a connection between how one sees epistemology and an ability to do faith integration makes sense. However, in his essay, Estes (2019) implies that understanding epistemology has a bearing on all disciplines. He suggests that understanding epistemology is critical to one’s ability to see any discipline through a perspective of faith. How does one’s understanding of epistemology drive the integration of faith and learning in all disciplines? We are all familiar with disciplinary silos; they are typical in many contexts (including Library and Information Science). Disciplinary silos often come about when disciplines lack connectivity to other academic disciplines. As a result, some argue that academic disciplines can lose their vibrancy and applicability to real-life scenarios. Disciplinary silos develop naturally. This is because disciplinary mastery often requires a certain level of expertise. Subsequently, in pursuing a discipline, scholars often fail to generate familiarity with how other disciplines work. They lack an understanding of how other disciplines attain knowledge and grow and develop. The extensive amount of research and writing done in almost all disciplines often fortifies disciplinary silos and challenges interdisciplinary work. Disciplinary silos frequently assume that different disciplines lack commonality, and, again, the depth of disciplinary work often warrants (although falsely) such an assumption. Disciplinary silos cause one to ask, using Tertullian’s language: “What does English literature have to do with chemistry?”
It should be noted that compared with other disciplines, Library and Information Science is often seen as the odd man out regarding interdisciplinary work. The nature of many jobs related to librarianship asks us to be familiar with a broad range of disciplines, making mastery of one (as is common in academia) a challenge. Assuming that disciplines lack commonality challenges the concept that one discipline can offer any insight to another. From this perspective, one question is how theology (often only seen as another discipline or falsely presumed to simply be a “preferred religious expression”) should drive my understanding and practice of Library and Information Science. However, a premise of Christian epistemology (and, subsequently, of how Christians should practice research) is that “all truth is God’s truth,” which drives one back to the idea that all truth comes from God. This infers that all disciplines (even disciplines lacking remote similarities) should find common ground because all truth comes from the same root: God. Acknowledging this is critical for integrating faith and learning because these epistemological bases are often foundational to a discipline. Faith integration frequently cannot occur if one lacks the epistemological premise that all truth is God’s truth and subsequently lacks a warrant for connecting theology and theological studies with their discipline. Theology provides epistemological grounding (i.e., “all truth is God’s truth“) that assumes that knowledge from multiple venues can still have a unified source. This assumption helps one further understand their discipline (hard sciences, teacher education, psychology, sociology, accounting, etc.) and confirms that the connection between disciplines is not only possible but beneficial.
I noted above that both epistemology and the doctrine of revelation were critical for the integration of faith and learning. Let me provide a brief overview for those unfamiliar with the doctrine of revelation. The doctrine of revelation is self-explanatory; it discusses how God reveals himself to humanity: how do we know God? There are two standard components of the doctrine of revelation: general and special revelation. General revelation argues that God makes himself known to humankind through nature, history, and even our personalities. However, due to the sinful nature of humanity, individuals fail to recognize God’s self-revelation through these entities in and of themselves (Erickson, 2015, p. 34). As a believer in Jesus Christ, I look at the sunrise and am amazed by the glory of God displayed in the beauty of it. I look at my family and am grateful for their blessing and all that God has taught me and continues to teach me about himself through them. I look at myself and acknowledge that God’s grace and mercy are new every morning. God uses ordinary things to teach the extraordinary (general revelation). However, the fact that I am a follower of Jesus Christ (my response to special revelation) makes me recognize God’s work through his creation, relationships, and myself, also known as general revelation. Unfortunately, these aspects of general revelation can be very easily overlooked.
On the other hand, special revelation infers that individuals need more than just nature, good relationships, and general history to know God. Romans 1:19-22 expresses this well: “For what can be known about God is plain to them because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools…” (ESV). In other words, the sinful nature of humanity tends to mess up our ability to understand and comprehend general revelation.
Special revelation includes historical events through which God speaks (such as God’s revelation of himself at Israel’s exodus from Egypt [Exodus 12-14]), divine speech, the incarnation of God in Christ, and specifically Scripture. When I read the stories of Israel’s wandering in the wilderness and their subsequent disbelief, I often wonder why they acted so foolishly. They saw and experienced much of God’s revealing of himself (special revelation) but did not trust God. However, after stating this, I am reminded that I also see much of God’s general revelation and quickly reject it. For example, I frequently see humanity’s work in medical arenas. While I am often quick to show praise and appreciation towards those involved (which is often well deserved), I quickly forget that such a discovery is a product of God’s general revelation. Again, Scripture is a primary (but not an exclusive) means through which God reveals himself to humanity and the primary (again, but not exclusive) means of special revelation.
So, let’s get back to the point of this entry: how does my understanding of the doctrine of revelation help me understand faith integration? Scripture does not explicitly address many components of life, including many components of Library and Information Science. For example, neither Scripture nor divine speech explicitly guides how a reference interview should be framed in a Christian worldview. However, Scripture states truth (such as loving one’s neighbor) and establishes theological premises (such as the order and structure of creation) that affect how one might do a reference interview. These theological premises (in this context, special revelation and general revelation) are foundational to practices performed during a reference interview (regardless of the individual’s religious context or lack thereof). For example, in a reference interview, one frequently expects a librarian to be kind and respectful to a patron, displaying love for their neighbor. If this is the case, is simply being kind to a patron an example of faith integration? Is faith integration manifested when I simply treat a patron respectfully and smile as they ask for help pursuing a topic? While I do not want to dismiss the incredible value of a patron, nor am I aiming to argue that it doesn’t matter how we treat another individual, I believe that faith integration is much more profound. It needs to be directed by much more than general courtesy and professionalism. Why? Because of general revelation.
General revelation supposes that God’s character is evident in many facets of creation. Psalm 19:1-2 speaks well to this when it states: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge” (ESV). One example is how when God created the heavens and the earth, God brought order and structure to it: night and day, land and sea, heavens and earth, etc. The essence of structure in the creation narrative assumes that God is a God of structure and order, and the fact that we can use the disciplines of mathematics, physics, geology, etc., to build structures that can sustain an earthquake confirms that we can create things that align with God’s order and structure.
Similarly, God’s general revelation speaks volumes to Library and Information Science. In the context of the reference interview, general revelation can guide me to treat an individual kindly and with respect. The simple premise that one should treat people in manners identical to how they want to be treated (i.e., the golden rule) can quickly provide a premise for treating a patron respectfully in a reference interview. While the golden rule itself is not general revelation, one can often use reason (e.g., that they have seen the golden rule as effective in prior circumstances) and conscience (e.g., a general awareness that treating others with respect is good) to understand the validity of such a statement. In other words, general revelation often plays an indirect (but critical) role in how we act. If I had no understanding of general revelation, I would have difficulty connecting the premise of the golden rule with God’s character (reflected in our reasoning process and conscience). A God-given conscience (i.e., a manifestation of general revelation) has broader implications than just a reference interview. For example, general revelation allows a library’s ethos to be where it is currently: to share its collection, advocate for open access, be friendly to patrons, welcome a community of strangers, provide a place for community gatherings, etc.
There are many other examples where God’s general revelation can impact Library and Information Science. As noted above, the belief that God created the universe implies that the universe has some order and structure. One can see order and structure by looking at the seven days of creation in the first chapter of Genesis. For example, God did not create man on day one because where would man be? On the formless and void earth (Genesis 1:1)? There was structure and order to God’s creation. The premise of structure and order (a manifestation of God’s general revelation) is critical to many facets of Library and Information Science.
My understanding of general revelation is critical in integrating my faith into all domains of life because God speaks through all domains of life. Most importantly, if I do not understand the role of general revelation in God’s work, it can be challenging to see how my faith connects to things often considered ordinary, like showing respect to a patron. However, suppose I lack understanding that God’s revelation is my foundation. In that case, I quickly lose warrant for treating a patron with respect, particularly when the patron is rude, out of place, or mean-spirited. The conviction that all individuals are made in God’s image (a theological premise) gives conviction behind loving a patron and, from that love, offering superb service, even when it is not deserved. After all, acknowledging God’s revelation leads us to recognize our own depravity and the depth of God’s grace and mercy, which we do not deserve. Our reciprocal display of grace and mercy to others is critical in undergirding many facets of our lives, including librarianship, and can be displayed through superb service.
Is simple professional courtesy an example of faith integration? Faithful librarians must go further because God has revealed himself to believers in Jesus Christ. Faithful librarians must practice radical courtesy because of God’s radical love for us. Faithful librarians must show kindness and compassion both when it is well-deserved and when it clearly is not because this reflects the special revelation of God’s work of redemption. Faithful librarians must show radical patience with all patrons. Why? Because these actions are reflections of God’s work with us. Is it difficult? Do I even need to ask that? I think many are aware of how difficult it is. Praise God that as faithful librarians, we find our worth in the work and person of Jesus Christ, who enables us to serve, empowers us to encourage, and strengthens us to lead.
References
Erickson, M. J. (2015). Introducing Christian Doctrine (3rd ed.). Baker Academic.
Estes, D. J. (2019). Psalm 19, Revelation, and the Integration of Faith, Learning, and Life. In A. J. Spencer (Ed.), The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis (pp. 48–57). Wipf & Stock.
Kuyper, A. (1998). Abraham Kuyper: A Centennial Reader. Eerdmans.
In this post, I share my journey of discovering the concept of faith integration and reflect on how it shapes my work as a librarian in Christian higher education. I explain that faith integration means striving to make Jesus Christ Lord over every area of life, including my professional responsibilities, by allowing my beliefs to inform both my actions and my understanding of librarianship. I wrestle with the complexities of applying faith to practical and theoretical aspects of my work—whether it’s how I serve patrons, organize information, or create spaces for holistic growth—and emphasize that every part of my job, no matter how small, is an opportunity to reflect Christ’s character. Ultimately, I encourage fellow Christians to seek ways to integrate their faith into all domains of life, trusting that God can use our unique gifts and circumstances to display His sovereignty and love through our daily work.
FULL ENTRY:
This blog has already used the terms “faith and learning,” “faith integration,” and “the integration of faith and learning,” but what do these mean? I want to take a moment and examine the idea of “faith integration”/”faith and learning.” While these ideas are prevalent in Christian higher education, I feel these terms/ideas may be unfamiliar to some. I say this because after spending several years in Christian higher education (as a student), I had never heard of “faith integration” or “faith and learning.” My first exposure to this idea was not until I began working in Christian higher education. Questions compounded my initial exposure to this concept, which led to a lot of reading and thinking, which has been critical in helping me comprehend and apply it. I share that, in part, because I hope that if you are unfamiliar with this concept, you don’t feel awkward because I was there too. However, the ideas behind faith integration are, in my opinion, something with which all Christians should be familiar (even though one may lack familiarity with the term itself). Faith integration, faith and learning, or whatever term is used, simply strives to make Jesus Christ Lord over all dimensions of life, a key component reflecting the Lordship of Jesus Christ over all domains.
Although crowning Jesus Christ as Lord over all dimensions of life may seem straightforward in some areas, it is often complicated, and challenges quickly arise. Subsequently, much discussion exists regarding how one defines and applies “faith integration” (e.g., Badley, 1994; Dockery, 2008; Glanzer, 2008; Joldersma, 2008). Some go as far as to argue that only particular manifestations of faith in a discipline and/or a workplace are authentic displays of faith integration. For example, faith integration occurs when an individual looks at the founding ideologies of a discipline (like librarianship) and attempts to critique and redefine them from a Christian perspective. Information is a crucial concept when it comes to librarianship. Does an epistemology aligning with biblical and theological truths drive how a Christian might define information differently than a non-Christian? As information traditionally has a strong connection with knowledge, one might ask: “Does the idea that ‘the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge’ (Proverbs 1:7) impact our understanding of information?” Pursuing questions like these and understanding their impact on the profession are ways the Lordship of Jesus Christ can impact a profession.
However, is this the only way to integrate faith into a discipline? Librarianship is primarily a service-oriented profession. Some suggest that librarians manifest their faith by serving a patron with a heart reflecting the love of Jesus Christ. There is much truth to that. Scripture notes that our faith must be shown through what we do (James 2:17) and that loving your neighbor (i.e., a patron) is an exemplification of faith in Jesus Christ (Galatians 5:14). Some would argue that since librarianship is essentially a pragmatic profession (focusing on what is done), it does not need a developed theoretical base (Zwaldo, 1997), and subsequently, simply reflecting God’s love in serving a patron is a critical means of faith integration. While I disagree with this premise (that because librarianship is pragmatic, it does not need a theoretical base [cf. Radford and Budd, 1997]), serving a patron wholeheartedly is a crucial dimension through which faith can be displayed through librarianship.
While there is debate on what accounts for faith integration, there are undoubtedly numerous ways an individual can manifest their faith through librarianship. Subsequently, I argue that faith integration for librarianship is one’s effort to practice and understand how Jesus Christ can be displayed as Lord of all domains through librarianship. Faith integration drives inquiries such as: “How should my understanding of the Lordship of Jesus Christ guide how I treat a colleague or catalog a record?” As I ask that question, I hear a response: “Sure, I can see how important it is to reflect Jesus in how I treat another individual, but would the Lordship of Jesus Christ impact cataloging protocol?” My answer to this is a profound: “YES!” I say this not because I am a cataloger but because I am in firm agreement with Abraham Kuyper (1998), who stated: “(t)here is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, Mine!” (p. 461). Every square inch in the whole domain of human existence, including library cataloging, is under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Subsequently, Jesus Christ should be reflected in all components of librarianship.
It is easy to misunderstand faith integration. Many assume its primary context is Christian higher education, subsequently, the term: “faith and learning.” Because of this assumption, many suppose faith integration should not be a concern unless one works in Christian higher education. While faith integration is often taught and emphasized in Christian higher education, faith integration looks at how one’s faith can be applied to learning and all facets of life, including one’s family, relationships, hobbies, and professional endeavors. While the context in which I work (Christian higher education) makes faith integration a critical component of my professional responsibilities, integrating one’s faith into one’s professional responsibilities (and all of one’s life) is crucial for all followers of Jesus Christ in all contexts. The Lordship of Jesus Christ demands it.
In an essay in CCCU Magazine, Todd Ream makes a constructive point about faith integration. Ream notes that in many contexts (librarianship included), our professional postures have become cramped, self-referential, defensive, and fearful (Defining the Integration of Faith and Learning, 2023, para. 17). If I aim to integrate the gospel of Jesus Christ into my professional endeavors, does my professional demeanor reflect a false gospel, that is a cramped, self-referential, defensive and fearful “gospel”? Ashamedly, I must confess that there have been many times when my attitude, demeanor, and actions did not reflect the character of the gospel. Such reality leads me to recall two components. First, I am a sinner; when my attitude is like this, I am not reflecting the gospel. Instead, I am reflecting the reality of Romans 7:24-25: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin” (ESV). Such sin requires that I seek forgiveness from the individual I offended in my cramped, self-referential attitude and forgiveness from God, who is faithful to forgive (1 John 1:9). The second point is that the gospel contrasts a self-referential, defensive, fearful posture. As faith integration aims to reflect the gospel of Jesus Christ through all domains of life (not just one’s professional endeavors), Ream’s point compels me to ask: “How can my professional posture as a librarian reflect the gospel’s hopeful, joy-filled, redemptive nature?” Or, since my faith in Jesus Christ must drive all domains of my life, perhaps I should ask: “How can my posture as a customer at a retail store who has waited for what seems like hours reflect the gospel’s hopeful, joy-filled, redemptive nature?” Faith integration aims to display Jesus Christ as Lord of all domains, including my roles at work, home, the marketplace, church, and all facets of life.
So, if faith integration is one’s effort to practice and understand how Jesus Christ can be displayed as Lord of all domains, what does this look like? Faith integration rests upon the assumption (as articulated by Abraham Kuyper) that God is sovereign over all domains of life, including librarianship. Bobby Ray Dunk recently finished a dissertation entitled “Faith Integration in Christian Higher Education.” In this dissertation, Dunk provides a notable overview of the current dialog regarding how faith integration is defined. In summary, Dunk (2024) notes that “(a) well-rounded IFL (integration of faith and learning) model should encompass the spiritual formation of the student, promote whole-person learning, prioritize a student’s long-term spiritual growth and development, and incorporate a comprehensive Christian worldview through the utilization of the narrative of Scripture” (pp. 83-84).
Dunk’s articulation of what faith integration should entail is exceptional because these four components speak well about how faith integrates into librarianship in the context of higher education. How can librarians promote whole-person learning, prioritize a student’s long-term spiritual growth and development, and incorporate a comprehensive Christian worldview? For example, faith integration aims to utilize library space as a context that fosters whole-person learning and long-term spiritual growth and development. Having this as a focal point leads one to ask whether there are places on campus that intentionally foster discipleship-based relationships? Are there ways that library space can be utilized for this? Many libraries already provide contexts that promote personal, academic, and spiritual growth, and they do this for several reasons. Doing this intentionally can display a librarian’s love, care, and concern for the patron, reflecting God’s love for us. Some librarians also investigate what librarianship might look like in the context of a comprehensive worldview. For example, in an essay by Denise Nelson (2019), she explores how hospitality can be incorporated into librarianship when viewed through a Christian worldview. Both of these are commendable reflections of the sovereignty of Jesus Christ over all domains, including librarianship.
In his work entitled, The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God, John Frame (1987) makes an insightful observation. He notes that when Scripture commands believers to pray, preach, help those in poverty, and so forth, in a vast majority of contexts, these are addressed to the church, not necessarily individual believers (pp. 138-139). In stating this, Frame is not trying to suggest that, subsequently, I can pass the buck to another person when the Lord lays upon my heart to pray for an individual, and I refuse to do so because it is outside of my comfort zone. However, it is vital to acknowledge that God gives each of us distinct talents and gifts that need to be used to glorify God and advance the kingdom of God. As Frame alludes, these gifts were given to serve as part of a community of believers. I am convinced that all Christian librarians must strive to integrate their faith into librarianship. Does this imply that all faithful librarians should start a blog and write articles related to faith integration and librarianship? No, it does not. Because God has gifted us distinctly, we must find ways to integrate our faith in the profession that align with our talents and gifts. Does this imply that because I enjoy writing, I make no effort to promote whole-person learning in my library? Or is it because I enjoy research and see myself as task-oriented that I make no effort to use teaching opportunities as a context to prioritize a student’s long-term spiritual growth and development? The answer to both is a resounding, “Of course not!” We must strive to find opportunities to glorify God that align with our gifts and talents while trying to glorify God in every context in which we have been placed. Because I believe in God’s sovereignty, I trust God places me in awkward and uncomfortable contexts to empower my growth and development (Romans 8:28). However, it involves using wisdom to discern God’s leading and guidance in all facets of life because all aspects of my life reflect my faith in Jesus Christ (or my lack thereof).
The context in which I serve as a librarian is Christian higher education. It is safe to assume that this context is quite distinct from a public library or a library in a public institution of higher education (or even many private institutions of higher education). As noted above, I am convinced that all Christian librarians must strive to integrate their faith into librarianship. What does this look like in a context where faith integration may not be an explicit institutional objective? Let’s say a student group asks to use the library for an event promoting something you fervently disagree with. What does faith integration look like in this context?
As I stated in an earlier entry, the gospel must drive librarianship, and humility is a vital component of the gospel. I aim to present this idea enveloped with humility, first by noting that (as in many contexts of life) there is not a “simple” answer. I feel that there are contexts where faith integration may drive one to step away from participating in an event like this or other contexts where faith integration may compel one to serve these constituents. I know this kind of answer frustrates many people because I am not giving a clear “yes/no” answer. While there are several points where I feel that Scripture speaks clearly, in a “yes/no” manner, how we apply those truths can differ. In the context noted above, one could argue that as hospitality is a hallmark of the Christian faith, allowing this group to use the library is an expression of hospitality (Nelson, 2019). In the Christian faith, motivations matter! In this context, showing hospitality (particularly to individuals with whom you disagree) can be an excellent picture of the gospel, displaying your love for the individual despite your disagreement with some component of their life.
If the gospel must drive librarianship, what if, in the same context, a Christian librarian has convictions that they should not participate? Am I implying that one can only manifest the gospel by participating? God has given all Christians the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit enables us to act, empowers us to resist, and qualifies us to discern. The faithful librarian should encompass an opportunity like this in prayer for wisdom so that God can guide their response through the work of the Holy Spirit. Is deciding to decline assisting a group like this not being hospitable? It does not need to be. Unfortunately, there are many contexts in today’s time when such an act of declining assistance would be seen as hostile, irreverent, and disrespectful. This kind of thinking (that because someone is declining to do something implies that they hate me) is simply incorrect. I need to be careful not to be swayed into this mentality myself. Instead, I understand that life is complicated and assume the best when someone declines to help or is disrespectful. Why assume the best? Because the individual who just disrespected me or was hostile towards me is made in God’s image. Perhaps in a context like this, holding one’s ground because of theological convictions while manifesting humility and love for your neighbor could be just as clear a portrayal of the gospel as displaying hospitality.
This blog focuses on one particular component of faith integration: the application of faith into the profession of librarianship. As I noted earlier, faith integration for librarianship is one’s effort to practice and understand how Jesus Christ can be displayed as Lord of all domains through librarianship. How does the display of your faith in the context of librarianship manifest the Lordship of Jesus Christ?
References
Badley, K. (1994). The Faith-Learning Integration Movement in Christian Higher Education: Slogan or Substance? Journal of Research on Christian Education, 3(1), 13–33.
Dockery, D. S. (2008). Renewing minds: Serving church and society through Christian higher education. B&H Academic.
Dunk, B. R. (2024). Faith Integration in Christian Higher Education: Evaluating Gaebelein’s IFL Model for Pedagogical Effectiveness (Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary).
Frame, J. M. (1987). The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God. Baker.
Glanzer, P. (2008). Why We Should Discard the Integration of Faith and Learning: Rearticulating the Mission of the Christian Scholar. Journal of Education & Christian Belief, 12(1), 41–52.
Joldersma, C. (1996). Faith/Learning Integration: A Substantive Example That Transcends Sloganeering. Journal of Research on Christian Education, 5(1), 67–87.
Kuyper, A. (1998). Abraham Kuyper: A Centennial Reader. Eerdmans.
Nelson, D. (2019). In a Manner Worthy of God: Hospitality and the Christian Librarian. In G. Trott (Ed.), The Faithful Librarian: Essays on Christianity in the Profession (pp. 66–75). McFarland & Co.
Radford, G. P., & Budd, J. M. (1997). We do need a philosophy of library and information science–we’re not confused enough: A response. Library Quarterly, 67(3), 315.
Zwadlo, J. (1997). We don’t need a philosophy of library and information science—We’re confused enough already. Library Quarterly, 67(2), 103–121.
In this post, I explore how Genesis 1:28—God’s command to be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, subdue it, and have dominion—shapes my understanding of work, especially as a librarian. I reflect on how this “cultural mandate” calls me to actively participate in developing culture, harnessing creation, and empowering others through my professional tasks, such as teaching information literacy and organizing knowledge. Rather than seeing my vocation as separate from my faith, I view librarianship as a way to fulfill God’s original purpose for humanity: to cultivate, steward, and restore creation in ways that reflect His character and kingdom. I also wrestle with the complexities and potential misuses of concepts like dominion and subduing, advocating for a humble, biblically grounded approach that seeks the flourishing of both people and the world. Ultimately, I see my work as a librarian as an integral part of God’s ongoing mission, both anticipating the future restoration of creation and participating in it here and now.
FULL ENTRY:
For many of us, librarianship is our career. We have invested time, effort, and fiscal resources in this profession. In many respects, due at least partly to how our economy is designed, most of us must work to sustain ourselves and, at times, our families. Some of us are privileged to choose a field of interest; unfortunately, others have little choice. What does Scripture tell us about work? Many suggest that a foundational dynamic of how an individual sees their job, vocation, or profession comes from Genesis 1:28: “And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth'” (ESV).
Some have phrased this passage as the “cultural mandate.” Long before the Ten Commandments or the Great Commission, God established the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28: be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, subdue it, and have dominion. In his discussion of this passage, John Frame (1987) notes that a vital component of the cultural mandate is entailed with the idea of subduing a “bewildering variety of tasks” (p. 67). This variety includes investigating the world God created, which resulted in many components of prosperity. For example, we discovered hydroelectric power and created the COVID-19 vaccine by studying and analyzing God’s creations and their elements (humanity’s effort to subdue the earth). The idea of “subduction” noted in the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28 often generates prosperity (Frame, 1987, p. 67).
Likewise, the cultural mandate empowers the professor who explores (increasing their dominion in a specific arena), the practitioner who works with clientele (empowering the client’s drive to be fruitful in various arenas of life), and the librarian who aims to make all this new knowledge discoverable (enabling further exploration) (Kaemingk and Willson, 2020, pp. 48-49). The additional commands in Scripture do not by any means lessen the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28, “(i)nstead, these later commands elucidate important dimensions of their holy vocations that are grounded in creation” (Kaemingk and Willson, 2020, p. 49). Every fact we learn tells us something about God: his nature, character, and laws (Frame, 1987, p. 67). Subsequently, many efforts to learn, grow, and develop simultaneously draw us closer to God and make us stronger professional practitioners.
Nancy Pearcey (2004) develops this idea further in her work, Total Truth. When discussing the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28, she argues that: “(t)he first phrase, ‘be fruitful and multiply,’ means to develop the social world: build families, churches, schools, cities, governments, laws. The second phrase, ‘subdue the earth,’ means to harness the natural world: plant crops, build bridges, design computers, and compose music. This passage is sometimes called the cultural mandate because it tells us our original purpose was to create cultures, build civilizations – nothing less” (p. 47). In other words, God mandates us to use the talents and gifts given to us to play a role in developing society, learning, and transforming the cultures in which we play a part. As a librarian, I further the cultural mandate of Genesis by instructing students in information literacy, cataloging electronic resources, and managing student workers. I am furthering the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28 through these actions because they assist in creating an educational context where students are learning how to play a role in creating culture and building civilization. As a follower of Jesus Christ and a librarian, I intentionally aim to use the cultural mandate, confirmed by the gospel, as a framework through which these services to students are critical tools for them as they learn to be future learners, nurses, accountants, entrepreneurs, educators, and leaders.
Kaemingk and Willson (2020) continue their development of the cultural mandate, building on Pearcey’s definition, when they argue that: “… God’s mission in the world did not begin with Christ’s commands to love one’s neighbor and to make disciples. God’s mission begins with creation and is grounded in creation. In the fall, God did not give up on the world, its restoration, or its development. The command to work and to care for creation did not cease. Loving one’s neighbor, sharing the gospel, and working in the garden are all part of God’s mission in the world” (p. 49). In stating this, Kaemingk and Willson have no intention of demeaning the gospel nor the display of God’s love to our neighbor. Still, the nature of God’s good news must be all-encompassing, and one’s work in librarianship reflects God’s redemptive work. In a context where librarians assist patrons in learning how to use a database, the librarian provides instruction empowering them to subdue God’s creation: to discover and learn how God created the world and how patrons can use their God-given gifts and talents to impact others. Librarianship as a means to reflect the discovery of God’s work can be a beautiful expression of the gospel when done with a humble demeanor.
Both Pearcey (2004) and Kaemingk and Willson (2020) provide believers in Jesus Christ with a framework through which we can see our work as part of developing God’s kingdom. I have often seen God’s kingdom in an eschatological sense, intertwined with the hope in Christ’s second coming, which will restore God’s creation and relationships. While this is not illegitimate, one component that has helped me is that God’s kingdom is an “already/not yet” reality. The kingdom of God is one of those components we eagerly anticipate that God will bring about in His timing (not yet). Still, in the same breath, followers of Jesus Christ play a role in manifesting God’s kingdom (already). When considering this eschatological hope, I have had to ask how the cultural mandate fits into this. Where does this leave the tasks that the cultural mandate demands? My job? My vocation? My professional endeavors? If I believe that God’s kingdom is not yet, doesn’t this provide a warrant for inaction? Does the idea that God will make all things new (again, a “not yet” understanding of God’s kingdom) make investment in things like our vocation meaningless? While I have heard this argument and seen it manifested through my own passivity, it is not a legitimate lens through which followers of Jesus Christ should view their work. Dooyeweerd (1960), in his work In the Twilight of Western Thought, suggests that “in the historical process of cultural development, a normative human vocation reveals itself, a cultural task committed to man at his creation” (p. 98). My role as a librarian, “a cultural task committed to man at his creation” (Dooyeweerd, 1960, p. 98), plays a role in cultural development. In the larger context, many would agree that higher education (the context in which I serve as a librarian) is a critical piece of cultural development. Subsequently, my role in that context is to restore creation and relationships and manifest the cultural mandate. Perhaps librarianship plays a role in manifesting an eschatological hope through my professional endeavors to restore creation and relationships.
Some have argued that God’s command to Adam and Eve to subdue the earth and have dominion over it is to be “understood by the Christian and the Christian Church today as being their task to bring the world into conformity to God’s will, to make the world Christian in every sphere of society” (Mare, 1973, p. 139). Many feel that actions like these (and the many tasks that librarians do, including teaching, administration, organization, etc.) minimize the effect of the fall of man and, subsequently, a venue through which one manifests the gospel.
I want to suggest that the cultural mandate of Genesis 1 calls for humanity, including librarians, to play a role in the progressive growth of culture, explicitly empowering our culture to develop in a way that brings it closer to the characteristics of God and His kingdom. Greg Smith (2002), in his essay entitled “The Cultural Mandate, The Pursuit of Knowledge, and the Christian Librarian,” provides some intriguing insight regarding how Christian librarians should look at the cultural mandate. In his essay, Smith references Erich Sauer’s work. Sauer (1962) suggests that Genesis 1:26-28 “plainly declare(s) the vocation of the human race to rule. They also call him to progressive growth in culture. Far from being something in conflict with God, cultural achievements are an essential attribute of man’s nobility, as he possessed them in Paradise. Inventions and discoveries, the sciences and the arts, refinement, and ennobling, in short, the advance of the human mind are throughout the will of God” (pp. 80-81). As a venue for research, rest, and discovery, libraries and their librarians play a critical role in many institutions that empower knowledge development and further discovery of the will of God.
I would like to note that some of the ideas mentioned in Genesis 1:28 may be unsettling in the modern-day context. For example, dominion and subduction (parts of the cultural mandate) carry negative tones in much of today’s dialog. While I do not aim to neglect this, I feel these ideas can bring positive tones. For example, humanity’s dominion over the natural sciences has empowered much of the prosperity in modernity. Likewise, the concept of subduction mentioned in the cultural mandate often carries the idea of oppression, which is a legitimate concern. In the context of the cultural mandate, this idea of subduction has also led some to argue that humanity has God-given rights to utilize the earth’s resources while simultaneously lacking care. However, subduction often carries the idea of bringing something under control. Subduction is used in building bridges over rivers, as they need to ‘subdue’ the river and somehow get it under control to make the bridge’s foundational components. Perhaps it is contexts like this that this text refers to when God states humanity’s task of subduing the earth. One should also recall that the cultural mandate was established before humanity’s sinful nature. I don’t feel that this dismisses the relevance of the cultural mandate, but it should help us understand that our sinful nature tends to abuse and misuse things for our own sinful desires that God created for good. In light of this, perhaps we should not wholly reject the cultural mandate because it asks us to pursue dominion and subduction. Still, we should investigate how these can be done in light of a biblical framework, working this out in a context of humility, as we understand that our efforts to utilize the earth for the prosperity of humanity have been corrupted by the fall. Subsequently, protocols that might lead us to further care for God’s creation, which reflect both the creation mandate and humanity’s sinful nature, should be established.
The development of this blog is how I am responding to the cultural mandate. The cultural mandate states that we should have dominion over all facets of life. I desire to investigate what it might look like to utilize the responsibility given to me in the cultural mandate and to understand what it might look like to give Jesus Christ dominion over librarianship. I will refer to the cultural mandate throughout my blogs (as I believe it is a crucial dynamic to looking at a faithful librarian). Hopefully, this blog entry provided some context of what I aim to do in seeing librarianship through the lens of Genesis 1:26-28.
References
Dooyeweerd, H. (1960). In the Twilight of Western Thought. Reformed Publishing.
Frame, J. M. (1987). The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God. Baker.
Kaemingk, M. & Willson, C. (2020). Work and Worship: Reconnecting Our Labor and Liturgy. Baker Academic.
Mare, H. W. (1973). The Cultural Mandate and the New Testament Gospel Imperative. Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society, 16, 139-47.
Pearcey, N. (2004). Total Truth: Liberating Christianity from Its Cultural Captivity. Crossway Books.
Sauer, E. (1962). The King of the Earth: the Nobility of Man according to the Bible and Science. Paternoster Press.
Smith, G. A. (2002). The Cultural Mandate, The Pursuit of Knowledge, and the Christian Librarian. In G. A. Smith (Ed.), Christian Librarianship: Essays on the Integration of Faith and Librarianship (pp. 28–39). McFarland & Co.
I have had the honor of being a Christian for many years. As a Christian librarian, my faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ shapes every aspect of my work. I share how the message of Christ’s sacrificial love and resurrection motivates me to serve others with humility, grace, and selflessness. Every day at work is a chance to embody God’s love for all of my patrons. Rather than viewing faith as separate from my professional life, I describe how it is the driving force behind my ethics, interactions, and commitment to service. I encourage other Christian librarians to let the transformative power of the gospel guide their work as well.
FULL ENTRY:
The gospel of Jesus Christ must drive librarianship. Let me unpack that statement. First, the word “gospel” literally means “good news.” The good news is that Jesus Christ came, was put to death, and was resurrected. In other words, Jesus Christ lives! But this leaves another question: for what purpose did Jesus Christ die? Was he a criminal? Was he a wicked person? Not by any means. Scripture clearly portrays Christ as innocent, holy, and not guilty. Jesus Christ took my place on the cross: I deserve death, I deserve punishment, I deserve the wrath of God. My thoughts, actions, ill intentions, and passivity (and much more) are all things that deserve God’s wrath. The gospel (or “good news”) notes that the death of Jesus Christ was substitutionary: Jesus Christ took my place on the cross. Because the death of Jesus Christ was substitutionary, I have been forgiven. But God’s action did not end in the death of Jesus Christ. By his resurrection, Jesus defeated death. This is the good news. Because of Christ’s victory, I, as a believer in Jesus Christ, do not need to fear death because Scripture teaches that I am part of God’s eternal kingdom. A foundation of this nature radically drives how I see life and subsequently drives my professional endeavors.
In his work entitled, The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is, when talking about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, N. T. Wright (1999) states: “(I)t is the crucified Messiah we are talking about. His death was not simply the messy bit that enables our sins to be forgiven but that can then be forgotten. The cross is the surest, truest, and deepest window on the very heart and character of the living and loving God…. And when therefore we speak … of shaping our world, we do not — we dare not — simply treat the cross as the thing that saves us ‘personally,’ but which can be left behind when we get on with the job. The task of shaping our world is best understood as the redemptive task of bringing the achievement of the cross to bear on the world, and in that task the methods, as well as the message, must be cross-shaped through and through” (94-95). In other words, the cross of Jesus Christ must be more than just a piece of my personal story. The cross of Jesus Christ, as a critical component of the gospel message, must shape and form every component of my life, including my professional endeavors of librarianship.
What do I mean when I say that the gospel of Jesus Christ drives librarianship? The gospel propels librarianship, sets it in motion, and is a primary motivation behind it. If the cross is the “surest, truest, and deepest window on the very heart and character of the living and loving God…” (Wright, 1999, 94), how should that impact librarianship? In the gospel of John, Jesus states, “(g)reater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13, ESV). The gospel provides a clear picture that God’s love for humanity led Him to offer His son (Jesus) as a sacrifice. God the son (Jesus) took his Father’s wrath, which we deserved. This was an act displaying God’s love to humanity. As a follower of Jesus Christ, I aim to use all contexts of life, including librarianship, as a way to display God’s love. Librarianship is not the only means through which this is done, but as God has placed me in this profession, and I have spent and will continue to spend a fair amount my life in the profession of librarianship, I believe I am responsible for demonstrating that love in that context. I fail at this many, many times. Thankfully, we worship a gracious, merciful, and loving God who offers a means of forgiveness: confession based on my acceptance and belief in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Because I have accepted God’s good news and confess my sins, he is faithful and just to forgive me.
I have two suggestions for how the gospel should drive librarianship. First, if the cross reflects the nature of God, it should be something for which I strive. Humility is a central component of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ: service, sacrifice, putting the interests of others before my own, and loving my neighbor. Humility should be a central component of practicing librarianship in the light of the gospel. Humility should be foundational in how I treat patrons with respect and love, strive to discover means through which I can better serve others, and sacrifice my interests for the interests of others. One of the challenges I have with such a broad application of the gospel is that there are many contexts in which service can appear to reflect humility, in both religious and secular contexts. However, I would like to argue that there is one key differentiation: motive. Am I offering service to a colleague to earn “brownie points” that they can repay me at some point? Or am I doing it as an expression of the wonderful work which God has done for me? Some may argue that a distinction of this nature is so fine that it compels one to ask: does it matter? I would answer that question with a definitive: “Yes! It matters!” It matters because God looks at the heart; God knows our every intention and mixed motives. To be honest, that is difficult to take in because I have offered very few acts of service (either professional or otherwise) that do not have some ill motive. Thank God for His mercy and grace and His blessing of my many endeavors despite my ill motives.
Secondly, if the cross reflects the nature of God, I would like to suggest that many (if not all) of the fundamentals of librarianship can be spurred by the gospel of Jesus Christ. For example, sharing resources is a foundational component of librarianship. The resources we purchase, the items we lend, and the services in which we invest often stem from a fundamental component of serving others, empowered by humility. While God’s sacrifice of his Son, Jesus Christ, was much more exceptional than a librarian’s investment of time assisting a student in a reference interview, a similar ethos is possible. Does that librarian’s investment reflect their gratefulness for God’s work in their own life? Is joy embedded into their service to a stranger because of their recognition of what a great gift God has given them through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ? Do I treat the patron with utmost respect and dignity because I know that they are made in God’s image?
Many of us have had the privilege of experiencing outstanding service. Service like this often motivates us to work harder, perform stronger, and improve. Outstanding service driven by the cross of Jesus Christ can transform many facets of life. However, it takes time, consistency, and determination for people to see that the exceptional service was not a rare instance driven by selfish ambition, but a manifestation of God’s grace displayed through a follower of Jesus Christ striving to please God by serving their neighbor. This kind of service, a manifestation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, empowers librarians to be change agents.
In closing this entry, I would like to suggest that there are many ways through which the cross of Jesus Christ, which reflects the nature of God, can be displayed in librarianship. I hope that future entries in this blog serve to explore ways in which the gospel of Jesus Christ can be manifested through librarianship.
Reference
Wright, N. T. The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1999.
These dialogs will be based on various ways in which faith can be integrated into librarianship. Many individuals desire some aspects of holistic living. The common sacred-secular dichotomy, where an individual’s religious beliefs are separated from aspects of daily life, such as work and other professional pursuits, is becoming less acceptable. One of the challenges with this, however, is that many do not know what it means to blend the sacred and secular. Does it simply involve a good Protestant work ethic, not lying to my supervisor, and trying to witness to my non-religious co-workers? While these are all parts of it, it can and should involve more.
The common ideology of a “work-life balance” may also be speaking against faith integration. How should my faith in Jesus Christ feed into my understanding of a work-life balance? Does the idea of “work-life balance” assume that some things belong in the context of “work” and other things belong in the context of “life,” making a holistic picture of life difficult to establish? While I am not aiming to argue that our tasks at work consume us and create a context where life is work, perhaps the biblical notion of the sabbath may speak better to an establishment of a balance between work and life than the notion of a work-life balance.
If both of these premises are true (that integrating involves more than what has been noted above and that “work-life balance” may not be the answer), one of the challenges this leaves is what does “more” look like? I faced this question several years ago. I struggled because I knew that my faith in Jesus Christ demanded me to follow Jesus Christ. As I was working for a vendor at the time, I came to a realization that I had no idea what this looked like. What does it look like to be a faithful librarian? This was particularly alarming as I had completed several years of formal biblical and theological studies (an undergraduate and master’s degree in theology).
It was during this time that I began my interviews for my current place of employment: a Christian college. I had in the back of my mind that working at a Christian college would eliminate this struggle that I had. However, it did not. I was very fortunate, however, in that shortly after the recognition that I was still struggling with how I could glorify God through my work, the faculty of the college for which I work began going through a work entitled, Faith and Learning on the Edge (Claerbaut, 2004). This work was my introduction to what Christian higher education refers to as the “faith and learning dialog.” While I appreciated Claerbaut’s work, to be very honest, I have come across other works which, in my opinion, may serve better as starting points, such as David Dockery’s Renewing Minds, Jacob Shatzer’s Faithful Learning, or George Marsden’s classic: The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship.
The “faith and learning dialog” rests under the presumption, skillfully articulated by Abraham Kuyper, that “there is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’” Faith and learning aims to apply faith to all aspects of life. Faith and learning is also a key idea throughout many contexts of Christian higher education. Faith and learning aims to align what a profession or topic might look like when assessed or perceived with a biblical worldview.
The purpose of this blog is to explore what librarianship might look like under a faith integration framework: a framework that holds to the presupposition that there is not a square inch of the whole domain of librarianship over which Christ, who is sovereign over all, does not cry, “Mine!”
You may be asking, “Why do this as a blog?” Somewhat needless to say, many of these blogs will not be fully developed arguments of a certain dynamic of faith and learning. There are simply some dynamics of faith integration that may be difficult to develop in a blog. Because of that, some of the entries will be more exploratory, that is, they will raise questions, spur dialog, but they may not fully develop a topic. In many cases, it takes something like an article or a chapter in a book to fully develop an argument. The question still remains, “Why do a blog?” While I do have several objectives, my primary objective is to explore how I can manifest my profession (that Jesus is Lord) through my profession (librarianship), hopeful that in so doing, these might be helpful to others. I hope this serves as a venue showing how it is possible glorify Jesus Christ through our profession.
I have found Augustine’s (1995) statement incredibly refreshing when he states: “If you ask me what is the most essential element in the teaching and morality of Jesus Christ, I would answer you: the first is humility, the second is humility, and the third is humility” (p. 22). In many respects, the blog entries are simply my thoughts and my opinions regarding what faithful librarianship might look like, ideally exposed in what Augustine notes is THE essential element of the Christian faith: humility. Subsequently, anyone is welcome to comment, critique, and/or post a disagreement.
I use the Latin phrase “Soli Deo gloria” in many of my signatures. This phrase means “to the glory of God alone” and is one of the five solas made popular by the Reformation. I hope and pray that this blog can truly be to the glory of God alone.
Soli Deo gloria.
References
Augustine. (1995). Letter 118. In B. Ramsey (Ed.)R. J. Teske (Trans.), Part II – Letters: Vol. 2: Letters 100-155. New City Press.
Claerbaut, D. (2004). Faith and Learning on the Edge: A Bold New Look at Religion in Higher Education. Zondervan.
Dockery, D. S. (2008). Renewing minds: Serving church and society through Christian higher education. B&H Academic.
Marsden, G. M. (1997). The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship. Oxford University Press.
Shatzer, J. (2023). Faithful Learning: A Vision for Theologically Integrated Education. B&H Academic.
The Faithful LIbrarian 