This is not a work of scholarship. I am no Hebraist, no higher critic, no ancient historian, no archaeologist. I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself. If an excuse is needed (and perhaps it is) for writing such a book, my excuse would be something like this. It often happens that two schoolboys can solve difficulties in their work for one another better than the master can. When you took the problem to a master, as we all remember, he was very likely to explain what you understood already, to add a great deal of information which you didn’t want, and say nothing at all about the thing that was puzzling you. I have watched this from both sides of the net; for when, as a teacher myself, I have tried to answer questions brought me by pupils, I have sometimes, after a minute, seen that expression settle down on their faces which assured me that they were suffering exactly the same frustration which I had suffered from my own teachers. The fellow-pupil can help more than the master because he knows less. The difficulty we want him to explain is one he has recently met. The expert met it so long ago that he has forgotten. He sees the whole subject, by now, in such a different light that he cannot conceive what is really troubling the pupil; he sees a dozen other difficulties which ought to be troubling him but aren’t.— C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, San Diego, CA: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1958, 1-2, emphasis mine. Agree/disagree on the value of the fellow-pupil over the master in your academic context, in learning the practice of prayer, in reflecting upon the Psalms with another amateur (relates to Mike’s series on Evangelical approaches to Bible study)? Note: Quote drawn from a conversation on “How do we learn how to pray?” in Theology & The Practice of Prayer (Summer 2012, Evangelical). What is the greatest challenge facing the church today? (07/02/2012) also inspired by this class.