What We're Reading - May 2021

How can it already be May?! It seems like just yesterday we were all eagerly welcoming the new school year, and now we are just a month away from the end of the year. We hope you are enjoying reading our 8th Grade “Meet Us Monday” interviews as they reflect on their time at ILS as well as look ahead to high school. Check back each week as we share more of these and celebrate our ILS Class of 2021!

As we count down to the end of the year, we are looking forward to the return of many ILS favorite traditions. We join with our Upper School students in their excitement to be returning to camps this year! Jr. Kindergarten will be enjoying their Medieval Feast, while Upper School students will be competing in their annual Oration Showcase. We will all be enjoying the return of Field Day and to celebrating our graduating class with their Graduation Vespers Service.

Please enjoy the May edition of our "What we're reading..." Blog. As always, we hope that you enjoy this variety of articles that we have found to be inspiring, thought-provoking or intriguing, and that these pieces continue to help to shape ongoing conversations. We would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below as you read these!

Thank you for your continued partnership, and for engaging with us! Please feel free to share a link in the comments to email us any time!


In songs of all varieties, from hymns to rap, text and melody work in tandem to effectively deliver the message of the song. For example, a song with lyrics about peace will typically feature a soothing and calm melody so that both text and music convey the sense of peace to the listener. Someone who hears a song like this might even be able to predict the message of the song simply from hearing the music without the text.

When we work out, we generally turn on a playlist of high-energy music. Even without considering the lyrics to the songs, the music “pumps us up” and inspires us to physically work out at a high and energetic pace. When we host an evening dinner party, we play a jazzy playlist—songs with or without lyrics. Our guests most likely aren’t listening closely to any exact lyrics, but the music itself sets the mood of the party. Likewise, the music we listen to on a regular basis both indicates our personality and influences our personality, perhaps even affecting the formation of our soul.

In Lutheran churches, we utilize the hymnal and the historic liturgy not only because the text offers reverent praise to the Trinity, or details for a biblical story or theme, but also because the music itself is reverent and timeless, appropriate for a sacred setting. Choosing to come to church and therefore hearing and participating in this music on a weekly basis not only indicates where your heart and mind dwell but also continues to form your soul as the Holy Spirit works through God’s Word coupled with reverent music.
— Marie Greenway, "How Music Affects Its Listeners"

The symbol for the Gospel of Mark is the Lion – the Lion is a symbol of power, pride, magnificence, nobility, and courage. The Lion also represents Jesus’ resurrection and Christ as the King of heaven and earth.

One of the reasons given for the Lion serving as a symbol of Mark’s Gospel is the manner in which the Gospel begins. The roar of a lion is not without notice, it is fierce, and it is decisive. There’s no birth narrative or historical recounting of events of wise men and angels; instead, the Gospel quickly and immediately begins with the fulfillment of John the Baptist, who is the messenger,

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the LORD;
Make His paths straight.’”

This straightening of paths is the call and action of repentance within the heart of man, the need to be reconciled to the Father.

If you want to know the theme of Mark’s Gospel, hear the words of John the Baptist and the words of Jesus that the Kantor sang this morning in the Alleluia and verse; Jesus says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.” (Mark 1:15)

Here lies the entire purpose and ministry of Jesus. The time is fulfilled, the Kingdom of God is present, and in His life, death, and resurrection – forgiveness and eternal life are present for those who repent and believe in the Gospel, the “Good News” of Jesus Christ.
— Pastor Rogness, "Sermon, Palm Sunday, 2021"

“In the beginning was the Word.” Without language, we would not know God.

We would not hear His voice in the pages of Holy Scripture. We would not hear the words of absolution spoken by our pastors. We would not understand God’s creation of the universe or the meaning of the Word made flesh for us.

We would be fully lost and fully alone.

God has given us the gift of language and has blessed us with the task of using it to share His word with others. We are told to send preachers to the lost and to teach the faith “diligently” to our children by talking of it “when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.”

We are meant to be people of words.
— Anna Mussmann, "Using Our Words to Repent"

The Psalms are intended for all Christians, but they specifically are directed for musical use during a worship service. The biblical titles of many of the psalms instruct which musicians should use them and how musicians should play or sing them. Although we do not have the original music used for the psalms, we can view their texts as some of the oldest songs in the world, incredibly still in continuous use today as part of the rich heritage of both Judaism and Christianity. As such, they are our beginning point as church musicians and should be known and studied by us.

Eternal Truth in the Psalms
The fact that we still regularly use these ancient songs in our modern lives speaks to the fact that the Psalms contain eternal truths about God and about human nature. Therefore, it is important that all Christians continue to read them, sing them, study them, pray them, and teach them today. Music teachers should include the Psalms as a component of music class. Students should learn how to use the chant tones in Lutheran Service Book associated with the Psalms. In doing so, they continue a centuries-long practice.

The Psalms take us through the gamut of human emotion, showing that human nature remains constant throughout centuries and cultures. The prayer book of the Church, the Psalms demonstrate to us the way in which we call upon God both in good and in bad times. The more often students are exposed to the Psalms, the more they see the psalmist contemplating the same things they do. Many psalms praise God for His deeds and for His characteristics, but others question the Lord, crying out to Him and asking how long suffering must continue. The Holy Spirit inspired these psalms to show us the healthy way to express these doubts and emotions to God as He draws us to Christ for faith, peace, and comfort. By reading these, students see how historically, many biblical figures and faithful saints questioned and doubted God. Students begin to see how the life of a Christian is not one of easy, prosperous, joyful faithfulness, but is instead one of trials, temptations, questions, and suffering that ultimately leads to eternal life with the Triune God and the saints in heaven.
— Mrs. Marie Greenway, "Teaching Psalms to Students"

The tumultuous nature of the last year has led each of us to find our own particular cultural coping mechanisms. One of the key ones for me has been reading the novels of Jane Austen. After writing her work off in my younger days as simpering and convoluted, featuring heroines with whom I could never empathise, I have now found myself drawn to her work in a way I never have been before.

Sales figures would suggest I’m far from the only one relying on her humour and heart to get me through these strange days. In the UK, as Kiera O’Brien, charts and data editor of the Bookseller, notes, Austen experienced a sales rise of 20% in the UK between 15 June and 7 November last year, compared to the same period in 2019. Last December saw the 245th anniversary of her birth and her popularity only seems to be getting stronger.

But why should her novels be suited to this pandemic era? On one level, it might seem obvious: such is the image of them crystallised in the public imagination by many glossy TV and film adaptations, they would seem to offer the perfect romantic escapism. (Indeed, it seems no coincidence that the TV mega-hit of the moment, Netflix’s Bridgerton, is a romantic drama set in Austen’s Regency period, albeit with a decidedly more cartoonish and sexually-explicit sensibility). However when you actually dig into the writing, you find Austen offers more unexpected consolations. Beyond their preoccupation with love and romance, there is a layer of steel and a celebration of resilience in her books that may well inspire us as we read them in these deeply uncertain and circumscribed times.
— Heloise Wood, "What Jane Austen can teach us about resilience"

It felt a bit awkward at first, a group of friends in their mid twenties sitting around in my library in an old Capitol Hill row house. We had all brought our copies of various Tolkien, some with a well-loved copy of The Fellowship, others brought stacks of the lesser known stories; The Silmarillion, The Unfinished Tales, Sigurd and Gudrún. Different levels of Middle Earth experts all brought together by a common love of Tolkien. We had discussed the idea of a “Tolkien reading night” for awhile, but on a rainy night we were attempting to make it happen. But would we be bold enough to flip open the pages and read the words aloud? Reader, we did. And it has made me wish I read aloud more.

The evening started with a story from the Unfinished Tales, the oath between Gondor and Rohan. A tale I hadn’t actually read before, but it made Rohan’s aiding Gondor in the trilogy seem more meaningful. It was a passage I probably wouldn’t have read by myself, nor been able to place it into the full context of Middle Earth, but thankfully I was among Tolkien fans.

After the tale we took turns reading the first chapter of The Fellowship. Familiar words seemed new and dazzling. They were the same words I’d always read, but somehow they seemed more alive. The humor and tongue-in-cheek writing of Tolkien came to light as we heard the words out loud. I had never thought of that first chapter as particularly humorous, but we all broke out laughing reading through the descriptions of Bilbo’s ironic presents to his relatives.

One of our friends read Mythopoeia out loud, the myth-making poem that I hadn’t even known existed. It is by far one of the loveliest poems I’ve ever read, and even now there’s a new magic to it when the words are read out loud, over the crackling of a fire.

Tolkien was what we read aloud that night and it still is what the reading nights continue to center around, but what other works need to be rediscovered in this manner?
— Ali Kjergaard, "In Praise of Reading Aloud"

My daughter, Alison, has always been voraciously verbal. Once, as a tiny two-year-old, she curled up next to me on the couch, insisting that I read my book aloud. When I obliged with lines from Virgil’s Aeneid, expecting her to sate her curiosity and wander away, she stayed. For about twenty minutes, we were two souls, spellbound—she by the poetry and I by her childlike allegiance to it. I had thought this a one-time deal, but she has repeated the experiment over the years with such choice samplings as the Odyssey and The Plasma Formulary (that last a remnant from my husband’s time at the Air Force Academy).

While her interest in the epics waned over time, I did take her curiosity as a sign of readiness for some meatier fare, so we began reading The Little Prince at bedtime instead of our usual picture books. Since then, we’ve read many “big kid” books, keeping a simple, colorful commonplace book together to chronicle our journey through Ronja the Robber’s Daughter, Wind in the Willows, Peter Pan, even A Child’s History of the World. Alison is four years old now and can scarcely wait to finish one book to begin the next.

Not so my son, Jude. At fifteen months old, he strongly prefers picture books to lengthier stories and known favorites to new forays. His perennial choice is Where the Wild Things Are, which he vehemently pushes into my face as I read about Argentinosauruses or Greek mythology to Alison. He loves to roar with the wild things and to chant the forest alive every night, gurgling “grew and grew” like a toddler Totoro.

I should clarify that I find my son’s taste as enjoyable as my daughter’s. I firmly believe that Where the Wild Things Are is the child’s first Homer and I fight tears every night as Max follows the scent of his mother’s cooking home. Mrs. Darling still leaves the window open, the hand-built bed still awaits the return of Odysseus, the father still runs to greet the prodigal son…and Max’s supper is still hot. God is in his heaven; all is right with the world.
— Careen Raynor, "Bedtime Stories, Childhood Feasts"