Months ago I finished Alan Jacobs’ book The Year of Our Lord 1943: Christian Humanism in an Age of Crisis. I found the book to be incredibly enlightening, and I believe it is a well researched and fascinating look at the lives of its five main protagonists. While slightly academic, I recommend it for anyone interested in Christian responses to the philosophical and cultural underpinning of World War II. There was, however, a nagging thought that has been itching at the back of my mind for the last nine months since finishing it.