Questions from Harry

Now that our family’s friendship with Harry Potter is public knowledge, I can begin to move into what I really want to write about. In previous posts, I wrote the story of how we came to enjoy the Potter books, but my real point in doing this was so I can work through questions that have been rattling around in my head.

Having read the Potter series, faced my own prejudices, and met some similar prejudices in others, I have the following questions…

1)  Why do so many Christians have such a negative view of Harry Potter, and is this view justified?

2)  Why does the magic in Harry Potter pose a problem for Christians, or does it? Should it?

3)  Is it OK for Christians to read Harry Potter?

4)  More broadly, is it OK for Christians to read non-Christian fiction? In other words, is it OK for Christians to read anything but Christian theology and other related Christian-living books? If yes, then why do those of us who do often get sideways glances from other Christians?

5)  What exactly is literature, and could Harry Potter be considered literature?

6)  What is escapist fiction and can it be read, too?

7)  What other questions should I be asking and thinking through?

40th Birthday Menu

Someone recently learned that I celebrated my 40th birthday in 2010 and asked if we had a big shindig. Yes, we did. Because I don’t like birthdays, nor do I like—for some irrational reason—having others celebrate my birthday, I thought it wisest to take things into my own hands and plan and orchestrate my own 40th birthday party.

It is not necessary to share a lot of details; however, because of my joy of grilling, I thought I would share the menu. I borrowed a buddy’s Weber, and used his and mine at the same time to cook all the main dishes. I spent the day before preparing and cooking dessert, and spent the big day grilling (oh, and I ran a half marathon in the morning). It was a blast and kept me busy enough not to think about the shindig being anything other than a get together of friends.

Of course, Wendy was my lovely assistant and was just as important to the cooking process as anyone else. I am a blessed man, indeed.

Appetizers
Wendy's homemade bruschetta
Barbecued teriyaki chicken wings
Mission tortilla strips with homemade fresh tomato salsa

Main Course
Barbecue hot dogs
Barbecue Hamburgers (with rub)
Barbecue Pizza (Homemade crust with Asiago, Parmesan, and Mozzarella cheeses)
2~Pepperoni
2~Meat (pepperoni, canadian bacon, sausage)
2~BLT
2~Barbecue chicken and red onions
Barbecue Baja Burritos

Dessert
Jello Oreo Dessert ($3.29)
Betty Crocker Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting ($2.85)
Jason's Homemade Silky Smooth Cheesecake with Fresh Peaches and Raspberries (Priceless)

Beverages
Water
Juice
Sweet Tea
Coke
Beer (international hand-picked choices from a connoisseur)

Layered Spices

layered spices, originally uploaded by wenabell.

This is a double mix of my favorite barbecue rub. After this shot, we mixed it up real good. One tablespoon per pound of ground Angus beef makes the best charcoal grilled burgers.

Candy Canes

candy canes, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Picture of the Day

Hooded Merganser pair, originally uploaded by wenabell.

I think my wife is awesome, so I want to highlight things she does well. I think photography is one of them. I will occasionally highlight some of her great shots.

More and more people’s jobs are made up of dozens or even hundreds of e-mails a day

“What you’ve probably discovered, at least at some level, is that a calendar, though important, can really effectively manage only a small portion of what you need to organize. And daily to-do lists and simplified priority coding have proven inadequate to deal with the volume and variable nature of the average professional’s workload. More and more people’s jobs are made up of dozens or even hundreds of e-mails a day, with no latitude left to ignore a single request, complaint, or order. There are a few people who can (or even should) expect to code everything an “A,” a “B,” or a “C” priority, or who can maintain some predetermined list of to-dos that the first telephone call or interruption from their boss won’t totally undo.”

—David Allen, Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity, p. 8

Simply Significant

I grew up with a stepfather who loved to barbecue. When seasons changed and I moved out in 1989, somehow I inherited his 22.5” Weber black porcelain grill. I was 19 when I first barbecued burgers and had no clue what I was doing. I have been barbecuing burgers and hot dogs for over 20 years now. Unfortunately, for most of those years I never learned much more than I knew when I was 19.

Despite my ignorance, somehow I rightly determined that charcoal—grilling with live-fire—is the only true and proper way to barbecue. Owning a fancy stainless steel gas barbecue, no matter how big, elaborate, or expensive, does not a griller make. No offense, but there really is only one way to barbecue. Convenience, schmenience.

My skills did increase a bit. I learned by trial and error and figured out a few things. I was able to cook some swell salmon when my sister sent some fresh chinook our way. Yet grilling was never more than a simple thing to do so that Wendy didn’t have to cook. I liked it, certainly, but it was mostly a summer thing to do.

About two years ago, I picked up a barbecue book and started reading in earnest. I tried a few recipes, changed the way I laid out the coals, and learned about rubs and marinade. I began to prepare foods differently, and I started cooking things that seemed strange to cook on a barbecue, like burritos and pizzas.

On Thanksgiving we barbecued a turkey which had sat in homemade brine for 21 hours. The temperature outside was 22 degrees F, but the turkey was fantastic and the friends were awesome. I think I will barbecue ham on Christmas. Seven days out, the weather prognosticators say it will be 15 degrees F, but that should be OK.

Funny thing, though. Now that I am actively trying to be good at grilling, I keep running into other men doing the same thing. Apparently both my brother’s-in-law are grilling (at least one is using gas, so he doesn’t really count). I also have a coworker who grills a bunch.

I wonder if there is something to hitting the late-30s, early-40s that causes us all to do something similar, or are we all seeking something simple, yet significant that ends up similar? Are we simply products of American suburban life, or do we just appreciate preparing good food? Maybe a bit of both. I don’t work on cars, or build houses. I live in a townhouse community, so I don’t even mow the lawn anymore. Grilling meat well and delighting in God’s gift of food sounds simply significant. “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV).

I’m running now, too.

Hy-pathetical

My son’s definition of hypothetical: Really pathetic.

Don't Judge a Man by His Books (Or Arrangement Thereof)

I have been writing quite a few posts regarding books, reading, and specifically Harry Potter. Since our family started reading Potter, we have encountered strange looks from people we love and respect. There is in many Christian circles a derision of these books. My aim, as I write these posts, is to get at the falsity of this derision, to understand in my own family why it is OK to read Potter, and to strengthen my children’s faith and ability to discern what they can or can’t do in the world. I want them to think for themselves regarding what they should read, and not simply be beholden to what those around them think.

So, my purpose in posting about Harry Potter is to work through these things thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, I want to collect other people’s wisdom about reading. My amazingly talented missionary friend reposted Sean Lucas today. Click through to read the whole quote, but here is a key part...

“But I, for one, would not want to live in a world or a church where the thought police scanned my book shelf and told me what I could or could not read. I would not want to live in a world or a church that mirrored George Orwell’s 1984. And I suspect most of my friends, regardless of theological position, feel the same way. We need the freedom to explore the world in which God has placed us; we need to trust our brothers are guided by Word and Spirit, confession and polity; and we need to believe that neither we nor our church is threatened by such exploration.”

If you are wondering about being criticized for arranging books, check this out.

Reading for Pleasure

Alan Jacobs quotes the following in his recent post. As he says, it is a “wonderful passage from Edward Mendelson’s book The Things That Matter.” I re-quote it here because it pertains to much I have been writing about.

Anyone, I think, who reads a novel for pleasure or instruction takes an interest both in the closed fictional world of that novel and in the ways the book provides models of examples of the kinds of life that a reader might or might not choose to live. Most novels of the past two centuries that are still worth reading were written to respond to both of those interests. They were not written to be read objectively or dispassionately, as if by some nonhuman intelligence, and they can be understood most fully if they are interpreted and understood from a personal point of view, not only from historical, thematic, or analytical perspectives. A reader who identifies with the characters in a novel is not reacting in a naïve way that ought to be outgrown or transcended, but is performing one of the central acts of literary understanding.

(HT: Alan Jacobs)

More Questions Than Answers

 Biblical theology indicates that God has progressively revealed himself to his people. God revealed more of himself to Moses than Abraham, and more to Paul than to Moses. That seems reasonable. Certainly, being on this side of Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection is much more revealing than being on the other side.

Therefore, we must remember to read Jeremiah with this sort of progressive understanding in view. Jeremiah did not see redemptive history in the same way we do. Yet, Jeremiah was a prophet called by God from before he was born. We have not had such direct revelation. Jeremiah wrote about the new covenant before Jesus was born. He prophesied about the glorious way in which God would—eventually—deal with his people.

The picture in Jeremiah 7:1–8:3 is rather bleak. It is so bad that God tells Jeremiah not to even bother interceding for the people because God will not hear him. Ouch. “Behold, my anger and my wrath will be poured out on this place, upon man and beast, upon the trees of the field and the fruit of the ground; it will burn and not be quenched” (Jeremiah 7:20). Bleak indeed.

What do we make of this? Obviously, being this side of the cross, we know that God sends Jesus, born of a virgin, as the supreme sacrifice, the new covenant in his blood, to grant mercy and forgiveness to those who believe. This wasn’t so clear in Jeremiah’s world, nor is it always so clear in Jeremiah’s words. Instead, Jeremiah’s continual refrain is “Repent! Turn around!”

Again, Jeremiah quotes God, “For if you truly amend your ways and your deeds, if you truly execute justice one with another, if you do not oppress the sojourner, the fatherless, or the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own harm, then I will let you dwell in this place in the land that I gave of old to your fathers forever” (Jeremiah 7:5–7).

This quote seems to be the only positive thing in the passage 7:1–8:3. My immediate question is why the focus is on doing social justice rather than having faith? From the New Testament teaching we understand that the “righteous shall live by faith.” We know that faith is the only way to God. Yet, it is passages like this that cause people to think that good deeds are what saves us. If I only go and take care of the widows and orphans, then God will be happy with me. This type of thinking leads some in Reformed circles to be critical of those who express only a desire to care for the sojourner, fatherless, and widow who do not express the gospel clear enough.

Without the rest of Jeremiah, and indeed, the Bible, we might end up spending all of our time doing in an attempt to be right with God—as if we didn’t already. We need the rest of Scripture, though. We need the rest of the Bible, the teaching of Paul and Peter and Jesus himself to see that what underlies these good deeds is a complete and utter trust in the true God. Verse 8 helps us understand that the problem is ultimately one of misplaced trust, “Behold, you trust in deceptive words to no avail.”

I have more questions than answers. I wonder why God didn’t make faith more explicit in passages like this. I wonder why he chose to write it this way when people’s tendencies are towards working out their own salvation. Yet, I am thankful that he did not leave us without the faithful remnant. I am thankful that he did not leave us without Paul and Peter and most importantly, Jesus. I am thankful that he did not leave us without clear passages that help us understand God’s progressive revelation.

What must I do to be saved? Repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Fears of the Father: Harry Potter

My children began complaining about having nothing to read in early summer 2010. Please try to understand how painful this is. Mackenzie and Chase had just finished 9 months of Omnibus. They had read thousands of pages for school and suddenly had nothing to read. They have read everything in the house, and had been to the library repeatedly. Kayleigh had read her entire fifth grade reading list by February and had spent the last four months writing her own 45-page story about a princess kidnapped by a neighboring kingdom and rescued by the blacksmith’s son. “Dad, I am so sad. We don’t have anything to read,” was the continual refrain.

Now, granted, this statement wasn’t entirely true. I often pointed out Dostoevsky, Dumas, and Dickens to name a few. No takers. They wanted something fun to read. Hah.

If you were a father, looking at two more months of summer, what would you have done? Probably not what I did. Yes, I did it. I told them to read Harry Potter. It was, after all, a big fat juicy fantastical story. It was seven books with 4,100 (exactly) pages. It could keep them busy for at least a week! Not only this, but men who I trusted biblically, spiritually, and theologically really enjoyed these books. So, given these considerations, I did it, I told the kids to read the Potter series.

To my amazement, the kids had imbibed my fear and contempt toward the Potter books. At first they said no; they were not going to read it. However, Chase, being the brave one, started in on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone sometime in July. Mackenzie couldn’t hold out and started reading book one after Chase was in book two. Kenz is a faster reader, so she was on Chase’s tail in no time. I did not allow her to start a book until he finished, to which great complaining arose. Finally, in book four somewhere around Task Two, Chase couldn’t handle the pressure anymore and let her pass him. She finished book seven before he finished book five. Kayleigh finished the series shortly after Chase and then Wendy and I started.

When we learned that the seventh movie would be out in November, they all begged me to get the series read so that we could go to the movie together. They did not believe they could go without me, so they pushed hard. I finished book one on August 30 and book seven on November 7. I started book seven on November 5. Yes, I went into a hole on Friday and didn’t come out until I was done. It was wondrous.

The Abell Six are now Harry Potter fans.

Ripe for the Picking

Between the Voice of Prophecy broadcast and 2004, nothing happened to change my mind from a negative view of Potter. Once we arrived in Minneapolis several events occurred that caused our family to take a dramatic turn.

First, we learned that my pastor and mentor’s family loved Harry Potter. They read the books and saw the movies. In fact, while on sabbatical in Cambridge, they stood in line at the London premiere of Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix. This was shocking to me. How could such an amazing man of God allow a book about sorcery into his home?

Second, I developed an increasingly close friendship with a brilliant theologian and would-be missionary to Finland. I looked up to this devotee of the Reformation and realized quickly that I had little chance of ever grasping the deep things of God like he did. At some point I learned that he had read all seven Potter books in a month-long binge. He loved them.

I was still contemptuous of Harry Potter, just much more quiet about it. Clearly, as brilliant as these men are, they had some disconnect when it came to popular culture.

Third, our family began reading the 100 Cupboards series by N. D. Wilson. Not only was this series written by a solid evangelical, but the story had been compared to the Chronicles of Narnia and was very popular within the home school movement. Clearly these were reason enough to make them acceptable. Since I love fantastical books, and my children were raving about them, I began reading them and was instantly entranced. They were awesome. (I quoted from them here, here, here, and here. I explain why I loved the third book, The Chestnut King, here and here.) Oh yeah, magic and wizards are central to the story.

Fourth, I read On Stories, a collection of essays about stories and literature by C. S. Lewis, finished The Lord of the Rings a second time, and began reading Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy Stories.” Then in June 2010, as a family we read aloud Andrew Peterson’s The Wingfeather Saga, which was similar to 100 Cupboards but much more zany. On Stories argues, in many ways, for the enjoyment of science fiction and fantasy stories. The Rings trilogy does not shy away from an acute depiction of evil, along with strange creatures and magic. Finally, “On Fairy Stories” is Tolkien’s treatise on, well, fairy stories. Much to my liking.

Clearly there is irony in this retelling. How could a person who loves fantasy and heroic fiction so much be contemptuous about fantasy and heroic fiction? I was now ripe, as they say, for the picking.

Be Thankful

A little over a week ago, our hot water heater died. It simply went kaput and stopped working. No gas flame, and rusty water all over the floor. We actually had to face a night and morning without showers. Instead we went to the community center, played in the pool and took showers. Less than 21 hours later, we had a brand new, bigger hot water heater installed.

Yesterday morning, in the middle of the largest Minnesota snow since 1991, we woke up to no heat. The exhaust blower on the furnace was no longer working, thereby not allowing the furnace to turn on. Wendy then informed me that the cabinet under the kitchen sink was soaked. The faucet, one of those single handled all in one kitchen faucets was leaking like a sieve.

The snow shut Minneapolis down so that our furnace guy, Joe, couldn’t make it until Sunday morning. Our home temperature got down to 64 degrees Saturday evening and we wore sweatshirts. Chase and I helped three other neighbors shovel their driveways. I tried to drive to Target to get a couple space heaters but couldn’t get the van 10 feet down the street. We decided to just tough it out.

When we woke up on Sunday morning the house was 53 degrees and the plow truck had plowed about five feet of snow into everyone’s driveway. Chase and I worked again for several hours helping several neighbors get clear. Joe the furnace guy came and replaced the blower. I drove to Home Depot with Wendy (Chipotle date while we were at it) and got a new faucet.

So, here I sit, in the favorite corner of my couch, while my family bustles around me, in a warm 69 degree home, listening to Wendy wash her hands in the kitchen sink with warm water...

...and give thanks.

At what point in the last two weeks did I face hardship? Everything that failed was fixed within 24 hours. We were inconvenienced, but those inconveniences turned into fun adventures. What an amazing country we live in.

Yes, failing appliances are a product of the Fall. Appliances repaired within 24 hours when 16.5 inches of snow are falling is not. That is a product of mercy.

Tonight, my overwhelming emotion is thanksgiving.

Times They Are A Changin

One of my children has—for the first time ever—seen a first run film before me, on opening day, no less. A travesty.

Dawn Treader, in her words, is “not like the book at all, but still a good movie.”

How Many Verizon iPhones Will Apple Sell Next Year?

John Gruber, in response to Philip Elmer-DeWitt’s analysis:

“That’s crazy. If Verizon gets the iPhone next year, they’ll sell a million on the first day.”

Read Daring Fireball.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Apparently the post at Hogwarts has recently been filled.



(HT: AyJay and litfolksarehip)

Starting “The Freedom of a Christian”

In 2004, when we moved to Minnesota, I was convinced that I was coming to train to be a pastor. It is difficult to explain how convinced I was of this. Not only was I personally convinced, but I felt that God had specifically called me to this new vocation.

Now, over six years later, I don’t believe this anymore. I do not believe that I was called to pastor a church. This significant transition in my thought is a long story, and if you have an afternoon and like coffee I would be happy to recount it in great detail. Suffice it to say that there has been emotional pain and family turmoil around this shift in vocational direction. Ultimately, God is sovereign and he will do what he will do; we trust him. But the realization that we moved here for a dream that was ultimately not to be reality has been most difficult.

Out of this pain has slowly emerged the realization that God is much wiser than I am. However it was that I came to believe I was called to pastor, God has revealed that it was not the wisest course of action given my personality. I am moody and prone to extremes, as much of this blog will attest, which is a perfect example of God’s infinite wisdom. It is precisely these traits—moodiness and a penchant to go to extremes—that disincline me from pastoring a flock of imperfect people.

So, now what? Well, by God’s providence I am currently employed by Bethlehem College and Seminary as the Vice President of Administration. In this strange and unique position I can play to my strengths. It really is a tailor-made position for me. God is good indeed. But what about the Bible and my once strongly held opinion (whether a true and correct opinion remains to be seen) that once embarking on the trail into full-time ministry one should never leave it? I used to think less of people who went into a “normal” vocation after spending years training for ministerial work. The irony of God’s providence is that I am now in that precise position. I look upon those situations with significantly more patience and understanding. O what a hypocrite.

As usual, I turn to a book for answers to these questions. In this case, I am turning to Martin Luther’s The Freedom of a Christian. I have often heard this treatise quoted, usually something about the worthy role of changing diapers. My uninformed assumption was that this treatise by Luther was all about Christian vocation. Maybe it is, maybe not.

My experience in the pages penned by Luther so far is not one of vocation, but of justification. Because I am a bit brain-cell challenged, it takes me 20 minutes to get through each densely packed paragraph. The going is slow, to say the least, but having read the first three or four pages of Luther’s 30-page work, it seems he is spending all his time on the doctrine of justification.

“It is evident that no external thing has any influence in producing Christian righteousness or freedom, or in producing unrighteousness or servitude. A simple argument will furnish the proof of this statement. What can it profit the soul if the body is well, free, and active, and eats, drinks, and does as it pleases? For in these respects even the most godless slaves of vice may prosper. On the other hand, how will poor health or imprisonment or hunger or thirst or any other external misfortune harm the soul? Even the most godly men, and those who are free because of clear consciences, are afflicted with these things. None of these things touch either the freedom or the servitude of the soul. It does not help the soul if the body is adorned with the sacred robes of priests or dwells in sacred places or is occupied with sacred duties or prays, fasts, abstains from certain kinds of food, or does any work that can be done by the body and in the body. The righteousness and the freedom of the soul require something far different since the things which have been mentioned could be done by any wicked person. Such works produce nothing but hypocrites. On the other hand, it will not harm the soul if the body is clothed in secular dress, dwells in unconsecrated places, eats and drinks as others do, does not pray aloud, and neglects to do all the above-mentioned things which hypocrites can do.”

Luther’s argument is astonishing. Read the last italicized sentence again. How often do you cluck your tongue at other Christians for the way they dress or drink or eat or pray? Yet, Luther is arguing that these things have nothing to do with producing Christian righteousness or freedom, unrighteousness or servitude.

This may have a lot more to do with vocation than I thought. Stay tuned.

Reading Jeremiah

It appears that certain traits are just part of being a fallen human. For instance, forgetting something previously learned and having to learn it again is human. By human, I mean “common to man.” It is common to man to learn something, forget it, and then have to relearn it. Furthermore, it is also common to man to know something about God, doubt what you know over time, and then have to relearn it again.

A major example of this is the history of Israel recounted in the Old Testament. They would walk uprightly, fully relying on God, and all would be well. Then they would drift away, give God lip-service and face judgment. They would repent, call out to God for mercy, he would relent and they would walk uprightly again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Why do we do this? Maybe a simple answer is our fallen nature; we are sinners. That seems too simple an answer, but I think it is probably an honest one. We are fallen creatures and we tend to forget the goodness of God when we see the shiny trinket. We are prone to wander.

I started reading Jeremiah again for my personal devotions. If I have time, I might post my thoughts as I move through this book. It has been a few years since I really concentrated my way through this book, but I remember how much I liked it. At one point I called Jeremiah my favorite Old Testament book.

It was around 2002–2003 when I first read Jeremiah and decided it was my favorite. The seeds of our move to Minnesota and my career change toward ministry were being sown. I was younger and on fire for the Lord. I was zealous for his glory and holiness. I reveled in his judgment of Israel and Judah for their turning away from him.

Today, in late 2010, I am a bit older, a bit more experienced. I believe I have a deeper, stronger faith than I did then, one tested by fire, one with less dross, mostly because we have suffered more. As a family, we have experience deeper depths of emotional pain, and felt the silence of God more profoundly. We have asked, “Why do you hide your face from me, O Lord?” Yet, we are still here. We still trust God. We still look to Jesus as our hope.

Because of this difference in life experience, I am approaching Jeremiah a bit differently. The earlier zeal is tempered. The camaraderie with Jeremiah is more acute when he cries, “Ah, Lord God, surely you have utterly deceived this people and Jerusalem, saying, ‘It shall be well with you,’ whereas the sword has reached their very life” (Jeremiah 4:10).

I finished chapter five, and started writing this post. Blogging is silly, and I have a tendency to expose too much of my soul. I am a fallen, melancholy, introspective git (used to be dork, but I have been influenced by Carl Trueman). Oh well. Writing these posts helps me process and learn. Writing helps me think and pray and hope in God. It helps me see his goodness in his Word.

I can’t promise much; well, actually, I can promise real questions. Let’s see if I can find any answers. (Let’s see if I can post on Jeremiah beyond this one....)

Books Read

I know of a prominent Christian pastor/speaker/blogger/writer that has been reading about one book per week for decades. The wife of one of my pastors set a goal this year to read 52 books, again the one book a week thing.

I, however, set my sights a bit lower. The old cliché says to aim for the moon, and you will at least hit a star. I just went for the stars immediately.

With the dawn of 2008 I determined to try and finish a minimum of 12 books a year, or a measly one book per month. Mostly, I have accomplished this. Here are my lists of finished books for 2008 and 2009.

Books completed in 2008

That Hideous Strength, by C. S. Lewis

The Abolition of Man, by C. S. Lewis

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas

The Chronicles of Amber, Volume 1, by Roger Zelazny

The Chronicles of Amber, Volume 2, by Roger Zelazny

Trumps of Doom, by Roger Zelazny

Blood of Amber, by Roger Zelazny

Sign of Chaos, by Roger Zelazny

Knight of Shadows, by Roger Zelazny

Prince of Chaos, by Roger Zelazny

Recalling the Hope of Glory, by Allen P. Ross

Don't Make Me Think: A Common Sense Approach to Web Usability, by Steve Krug

Thinking with Type: A Critical Guide, by Ellen Lupton

Books completed in 2009

The Hobbit, by J. R. R. Tolkein

The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

100 Cupboards, by N. D. Wilson

Dandelion Fire, by N. D. Wilson

The Fellowship of the Ring, by J. R. R. Tolkien

On Stories and Other Essays on Literature, by C. S. Lewis

The Three Signs of a Miserable Job, by Patrick Lencioni

Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austin

Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl: Wide-Eyed Wonder in God’s Spoken World, by N. D. Wilson

The Key-Lock Man, by Louis L’Amour

The Two Towers, by J. R. R. Tolkien

2010 has been a much more successful year in terms of total books read, but who’s counting? I will post that list in early January, since I am still reading.

Rabbit Trail

Following a rabbit trail turning off of the previous post….

In 1997, when the Bible suddenly became real to me in a new way, I swept my bookshelves clean of all fiction collected since 1984 and started to refill them with theology, Christian living, and other Bible related books. Almost my entire reading life began to revolve around nonfiction religious works. I looked contemptuously on my previous love of fiction, and determined that all that reading was a waste of life. After all, my hero wrote a book called Don’t Waste Your Life.

Now, however, having home-schooled four children for seven years following the classical education model—as well as my insufferable love of being lost in a fantastical world, which I remembered in August 2008 when I dug out my tattered copy of The Chronicles of Amber—the importance of literature and fiction has resurrected itself in my life.

Somewhere in 2002, I read Douglas Wilson’s Recovering the Lost Tools of Learning, which has changed our entire view of education and caused us to embark on a homeschooling voyage that neither Wendy or I could have ever envisioned. Once our children hit seventh grade, they begin the Omnibus program, which is a curriculum combining theology, history, and literature. Three years into this program, our shelves are filled with classic Western literature. Our family is a reading machine. Every one of us consumes books. We read the hard stuff for school and the lighter stuff for fun. Rarely are our kids without a book.

As a family we have read aloud Huckleberry Finn, The Lord of the Rings, the Wingfeather Saga, and the entire 13-volumes of Lemony Snickett’s A Series of Unfortunate Events.

Obviously, my earlier knee jerk reaction about fiction has changed. The main reason for the change is that we know inherently it isn’t wrong to read stories. It helps, though, to find others who agree and argue for us.

Peter Leithart recently did this for us very well. Read his short essay series on Why Read? here and here. He begins his Why Read? essay...

For Christians, the question at a certain level answers itself. We read because we are people of the book, the people of Moses, David, Nehemiah, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Matthew, Paul, and John. We read because in reading we encounter the God who is Word. Christians extend this argument easily to “edifying” reading. If we must read the Bible, then we also, it seems, have all good reason to read theology, church history, lives of the saints, devotional guides, Bunyan, always Bunyan. No one raises a protest when a Christian sits down with a serious tome (and, frankly, are tomes ever frivolous?).

It’s sometimes a different story when the question “Why read?” means “Why should we read poetry, or fiction, or drama, or screenplays?” Ask that question, and you may get, at best, a blank stare, and at worst a harangue on the dangers of imagination. The more orthodox your interlocutor, the more likely you’ll get the harangue rather than the stare.

Please read it all (here and here) and help me think through why we should not feel guilty reading fiction.

A Little Back-story

As I continue with my posts on literature and Harry Potter, I think it helpful to give a bit of back-story. I have been reading fiction my entire life, beginning with my mother and father who read to me faithfully, as well as my sixth grade teacher who read to our class every day, and this reading endeared him to me deeply.

I read the Chronicles of Narnia in third grade, and the rest was history, so to speak; I read a ton of sci-fi / fantasy in high school. I was immersed in all things fanciful. Looking back on my life, it seems my favorite stories have almost always been fantasy (not a bad thing, read this). Furthermore, I love the hero. Whether the hero was a cowboy, a swordsman, or a spy, I love the guy who saves the day and gets the girl.

So, for me to sit in my van and shake my head knowingly as Lonnie Melashenko from Voice of Prophecy criticized J. K. Rowling for her work on the Harry Potter series was overtly hypocritical.

It gets worse, not only did I read a ton of fiction without discernment, but by this time I had not yet completed The Lord of the Rings. Not that I hadn’t tried of course, for I had picked up The Fellowship of the Ring two or three times and only gotten fifty or so pages in before becoming bored. The escapist fiction that I had been saturated in was simpler, easier, and seemingly more exciting.

Now, of course, I know better. I have read through The Lord of the Rings multiple times and have found it deeper, wiser, and more emotionally compelling with each reading. The point I am trying to make is that my understanding of literature and story was very immature back in 1998. It was infantile, which made my unthinking agreement with the radio broadcaster that much worse.

So, not only did I frown on Harry Potter, but I was hypocritical about it as well….

Frowning on Harry

I remember the moment quite vividly. It was sometime in the late 1990s, probably late 1998. I was driving into the garage of our first home, listening to the Voice of Prophecy broadcast on the local Christian radio station. At the time, I did not know that this brief radio program was presented by the Seventh Day Adventists, all I knew is that the guy was a good speaker and his words made sense; he was compelling. (I later parted ways with this broadcaster when he espoused Annihilation.)

It was dark outside, and I was particularly interested in the broadcast because the topic was Harry Potter, who was all the rage in the United States. Of course, I hadn’t read Harry Potter, but had certainly heard about him through the media. The books were wildly popular to say the least.

What I remember is that the speaker, Lonnie Melashenko, was chastising J. K. Rowling for not doing as Tolkien had done, namely, including a Christ figure in her books. Since at this time, only a few (maybe two or three) of the Harry Potter books were published in the US, Lonnie acknowledged that Rowling still had time to get her story right and include the Gandalf-like character who would help redeem the books. The gist of the broadcast (at least how I remember it 11 years later) was that Rowling will not have gotten her story right unless she has a redeeming Christ figure in it.

This broadcast, along with the general Christian milieu in which I lived, reinforced a negative view of Harry Potter that I have carried for years. I was attending a good, gospel-preaching church at the time, yet as I look back, I realize that the theological and intellectual level there was much different than what I am used to now. There was a fundamentalist bent at our church which was afraid of both Halloween and Harry Potter. Whether or not a good Christian family should let their kids out on Halloween was a significant point of discussion. Likewise, reading Harry Potter was frowned on.

The point, then, is that I have carried a negative view of Harry Potter for years….

This post is the first in what I hope will be multiple posts on the subject of literature in general, and Harry Potter in specific (and maybe even a little epistemology thrown in for fun). I want to construct my story/argument carefully, so I will try not to give too much away too soon. Stay tuned for more.

Let the posting continue.

While the main reason I haven’t posted since my anniversary is because my job has consumed too much time and energy, another significant reason has been an internal battle over whether I should be blogging at all. I am not on Facebook or Twitter, and am not part of any of today’s other means of electronic socialization or conversation. In fact, as technologically savvy as I think I am, I really am disconnected when it comes to social media. Since I can count the number of readers who read this blog on one hand, it seemed wise that I should just hang up the spurs, so to speak.

Furthermore, when I hear prominent people, or at least people that I look up to, say negative things about blogging and bloggers, I inwardly cringe. Am I vain or self-absorbed? I certainly recognize certain symptoms. When I started this blog in December 2005, the purpose was for family to keep up with what we were doing. Most of our posts were family related. But the siren song to a seminary student of readers and theologically deep writing grabbed hold of me, and I found myself reminding people that I was blogging, and I spent hours trying to write posts worth reading. I am quite sure I was more of an annoyance than a blessing. I still don’t think any of my family reads this blog. In fact, I chuckle inwardly now when I talk with people who recently started a blog and subtly remind me of that fact four or five times during a three minute conversation.

I have convinced myself several times in the last few months to simply be done. No more posts. But then I will come across a quote or paragraph or thought that I immediately want to post. Why is that? I am not sure. I guess it really is the same reason that other people are on Facebook or Twitter: we want to share something of ourselves with others.

So, the point is that I have decided to keep blogging. However, my expectations are extremely low. I do not really know how many people read this or if anyone will still read it since I haven’t posted for five months. That is not the point. The point is that this blog is a bit of an outlet for me. It gives me an opportunity to record a thought or post a quote that I found interesting. It allows me to record something that I thought was important, if even for a moment. Maybe my wife will read this and we can converse later over the dinner table. Maybe when I am dead my kids will read this electronic remnant and find an insight into their dad they didn’t know. (Sorry, that was morbid.)

This isn’t much of a reason to blog, and it certainly doesn’t fit with a desire to gain readership, but it is enough of a reason for me to continue doing this.

My goal is to post at least once a week; something, however small. If you do read this blog, please don’t expect much, and thanks for reading.

20 Years of Joy

Today is the 20th anniversary of being married to my best friend, lover, and partner in everything. She has put up with a lot in the last 20 years. She is God's greatest physical embodiment of mercy, grace, forgiveness, love, joy, partnership, and perseverance to me. I can more easily believe that God is real and good by looking at the gift of my wife. I exalt Christ and thank him for her, all the while striving (not so well) to love her like Christ loved the church (Eph 5:25-33).

Happy Anniversary, my love.

Deadly Serious

“Life is deadly serious and wonderfully joyful.”

—Pastor David Livingston during Wednesday morning prayer.

Addicted

Chipotle

Check out picture 219 at the link above.

[Update: Chipotle changed their site and our picture disappeared, but they still sent me TEN free burrito cards. How cool is that?]

'The Empire Strikes Back' Turns 30

See the post from John Gruber of Daring Fireball. He writes:

I say the unsung hero of Empire is screenwriter Leigh Brackett. George Lucas wrote the story, but Brackett and Lawrence Kasdan co-wrote the screenplay. Why is the dialogue so good, the characters so interesting, compared to the other films in the franchise? Because George Lucas didn’t write the dialogue. Empire has more great lines of dialogue than the other five Star Wars movies combined. (My very favorite, right from the day my dad took me to see a matinee on opening weekend, was purportedly an ad-lib by Harrison Ford: “I know.”)

Clearly, his analysis of Lucas’s negative impact on dialogue is obvious. (I still deny the existence of Star Wars 1, 2, and 3.) But, my question to everyone who saw this movie in the theaters, like I did, is, “Do you not know exactly what scene Harrison Ford’s quote is from?”

A Glorious Morning

This boy from Washington State absolutely loves mornings like this. It is raining relatively hard, lighting is slamming the Shoreview Towers, and thunder is rolling across the sky from south to north.

My family is at the library, all the windows are open, the smell of rain is everywhere, and I am sitting at my computer with a large mug of steaming hot coffee in my hand and an eclectic mix of tunes flowing from my playlist.

It really is glorious.

Job 28:23 “God understands the way to it,
and he knows its place.
24 For he looks to the ends of the earth
and sees everything under the heavens.
25 When he gave to the wind its weight
and apportioned the waters by measure,
26 when he made a decree for the rain
and a way for the lightning of the thunder,
27 then he saw it and declared it;
he established it, and searched it out.
28 And he said to man,
‘Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom,
and to turn away from evil is understanding.’”

The Last Enemy

One of my elders at Bethlehem is one of those Godly men that you point to when someone asks you what a Christian is. At this point in my life, I know I don't trust Christ as much as he does. I pray that if and when I face suffering that God will be gracious to give me a heart like Mitch's. Here is what Mitch posted last night on his wife’s Caring Bridge site.

There are times when the question why is not going to be answered. We just need to move forward trusting in the path God leads us. The LORD gives and the LORD takes way; blessed be the name of the LORD. At 6:39pm on May 14th my beautiful wife while in my arms, went to be with the LORD. As only God could plan Phillip, Emily, Cassie and I were all present when the LORD took her from us. Janelle was at one of her friend’s house and we were able to get her soon after and we gathered around our Mom, my Wife and prayed for the mercy, grace, and strength to move forward. It is strange how fast things change, and over the last few days we knew the treatment was not going as planned. There is only so much a body can take and after fifteen and a half months of chemo, drugs, and infections, her weakened body could take no more. The nurses and the Doctor tried to do all they could, but Jesus was calling and Mary answered. Please continue to keep us in your prayers. The days ahead will be difficult and we will need to make many adjustments. We are thankful to be the children of God. We have a hope in things to come when we will put on an imperishable body when things like Leukemia will be gone forever. We will have no more tears, no more death, and we will reign in His kingdom, worshiping the King with Mary and all the saints forever.

Worshiping through tears,

Mitch, Phil, Emily, Cassie, and Janelle

I Threw a Tomato at the Wall Yesterday

Conversation overheard at a local high school:

“I threw a tomato at the wall yesterday, but my parents didn't do anything. Nothing I do anymore phases them.”

If we, as parents, do not set boundaries, then we are doing a disservice to our children. In fact, Solomon says we hate our children: “Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him” (Proverbs 13:24; cf. 5:23, 6:23).

I am sure that many well-meaning parents have withheld the rod, listening too much to outside voices, thinking that by being lenient their children will come around. Unfortunately, this is not true. Solomon wrote, “Discipline your son, for there is hope; do not set your heart on putting him to death” (Proverbs 19:18). Avoiding discipline is akin to putting your child to death.

One might ask how this could possibly be true? The answer is given a couple chapters later, “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him” (Proverbs 22:15; cf. 23:13). Original sin is a reality.

As Solomon said, there is hope. It is possible to raise children and have your heart full of delight. I am not unaware of the reality that our children’s hearts must be regenerated, but God uses means, and one of those means is discipline. Again, Solomon writes, “Discipline your son, and he will give you rest; he will give delight to your heart” (Proverbs 29:17).

My heart goes out to this child; she wants her parents to discipline her. I believe that the cry of her heart can be heard in that last simple sentence, “Nothing I do anymore phases them.” In other words, “I have tried. I can't seem to get their attention.”

Parents, discipline your children. They need you.

Page CXVI—Hymns II Album

A year or so ago, an Indy Christian band called Page CXVI put out an album of hymns that had been filtered through their musical style. The issue of hymns in the church can be a strained one, but I find myself loving these hymns with words that are theologically sound and a music style that appeals to where I am at. Very selfish, I know.

The first Hymns album fit that bill nicely. Even my kids (9–14) enjoy the album, so much so that one of my daughters wants the Page CXVI version of Nothing But The Blood played at her funeral. Morbid, yes, but not unworthy of thanksgiving.

For one week only, starting today, you can download the first Hymns album for free. Visit here.

The new album contains the following songs:

1. How Great Thou Art

2. Praise To The Lord

3. Jesus I Am Resting, Resting

4. Rock Of Ages

5. Abide With Me

6. Battle Hymn Of The Republic

7. Doxology

You can order/download the new album here.

Tears of Joy and Expectation for the God Who Loves the Lame and Outcast

19 Behold, at that time I will deal with all your oppressors.
And I will save the lame and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth.
20 At that time I will bring you in, at the time when I gather you together;
for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes before your eyes,” says the Lord.

—Zephaniah 3:19–20

Spring Lily

spring lily, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Wen got a new macro lens and is going to town. Check out her flickr site to see more. Yes, she is my wife, but I think she has talent. Check out the pics she takes.

Two More Ways Apple Earns My Loyalty

Way to Earn Loyalty #1:

I took my iPod Touch in to the Apple store this morning because somehow dust had gotten behind the screen and was visible whether the iPod was on or off. Being behind the glass, so to speak, the dust could not be cleaned away. The Genius Bar technician looked at it for about 20 seconds, checked my warranty, which fortunately had 43 days left, and switched me out with a new iPod Touch. Yes, the new iPod matched my previous model exactly (2gen, 16GB), but they extended my warranty to a full 90 days. They didn’t have to, nor did they have to give me a new one.

Way to Earn Loyalty #2:

We have a 17" iMac, purchased in January 2006, that the kids use. It is over 4-years old and way out of warranty. A month or so ago a vertical blue line showed up about three inches from the left side of the screen. I decided to bring the iMac with me to the Apple store to get a diagnosis, figuring that I would then buy the replacement part and fix it myself. The diagnosis was as expected, the LCD screen was faulty. “However,” said the Genius Bar technician, “our engineers want to understand this problem, so we will replace your screen at no cost to you so that we can have the faulty part. If you leave it with us we will replace your screen and you should have your computer back either tomorrow or Monday. Will that work for you?” As they say in Minnesota, “You betcha.”

Granted, I was already a fanboy, but with this kind of service who wouldn't be?

Together they launched a holy war on their era’s scientific materialism...

“These three ‘literary Brits’ [C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, and Dorothy Sayers] shared more than a lively Christian faith, the writing of imaginative literature, and a strong mutual regard. Together they launched a holy war on their era’s scientific materialism and the spiritual declension that accompanied it. Each lifted up in their writings a rich, world-embracing Christian vision against the grey deadness of secularization. For each, this was a life-and-death battle, with the future of the Western world hanging in the balance. They saw their age’s new creed of hard-nosed scientific pragmatism draining the world of spirit and meaning—indeed, as Lewis put it, threatening to tear out of us our very hearts, abolishing humanity itself.”

Read the whole article by Chris Armstrong, my former history prof at Bethel.

On second thought...

“On second thought, let’s not go to Camelot. It is a silly place.”

—King Arthur in Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Answering the Why Question

Some days my mind is cloudier than others. It is relatively easy to ask big why questions of God when we see photos of Haiti or Chile. When we are closed up in our suburban, comfy, shells, it is relatively easy not to ask the why questions at all.

Then once in a while, we learn or hear about suffering and evil that is so horrendous, we recoil in physical revulsion. Combine that with a cloudy head, and it is easy for me to fall away from my own knowledge of truth and ask the same why questions.

Trying to understand why my head gets cloudy is not the point of this post. The point of this post is to remember, again, a solid answer to one of the why questions. My pastor’s answers usually clear my foggy head:

Why do little children suffer and die? We ask it with the awareness that it is happening this very moment by the hundreds, and we ask it through tears of personal experience and empathy. Here is one biblical answer: “Just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned—” (Romans 5:12).

When an objection arises that it is “harsh, to bring the whole creation under the judgment of suffering and death, including little children, because of one man's sin.” My pastor’s answer is again helpful:

That is how outrageous sin against an infinitely wise and good and holy God is. We don’t measure the outrage of our suffering by how insignificant we think sin is; we measure the outrage of sin by the scope of suffering. The really amazing thing is that you and I, as sinners, are sitting here talking, when we deserve to be in hell. God is remarkably patient. And he gave his Son to die in our place so that everyone who believes may escape from this judgment and have eternal life.

(HT: Desiring God; Read the whole article.)

Here comes the rain again, I hope.

The weather forecast shows 70% chance for precipitation on Wednesday. Several times during the last week of sunny days, I realized that this Washington boy longs for a few solid days of rain. I can only take so much sunshine.

(Note: Average days of precipitation—including snow—in Minneapolis, MN., 115 days. Average days of precipitation—not including snow—in Portland, OR., 151 days.)

Dogmatics is...

My Friend posted what he considers to be the “best definition of theology I’ve ever read.” Here is the full quote:

“Dogmatics is the system of the knowledge of God as he has revealed himself in Christ; it is the system of the Christian religion. And the essence of the Christian religion consists in the reality that the creation of the Father, ruined by sin, is restored in the death of the Son of God and re-created by the grace of the Holy Spirit into a kingdom of God. Dogmatics shows us how God, who is all-sufficient in himself, nevertheless glorifies himself in his creation, which, even when it is torn apart by sin, is gathered up again in Christ (Eph. 1:10). It describes for us God, always God, from beginning to end—God in his being, God in his creation, God against sin, God in Christ, God breaking down all resistance through the Holy Spirit and guiding the whole of creation back to the objective he decreed for it: the glory of his name. Dogmatics, therefore, is not a dull and arid science. It is a theodicy, a doxology to all God’s virtues and perfections, a hymn of adoration and thanksgiving, a ‘glory to God in the highest’ (Luke 2:14).”

[Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, I.112, in the best definition of theology I’ve ever read (no offense to my hero Dr Webster)]

Now, as you know, I am not nearly as sharp as the dullest tack in the box, so I had to look up a few words, scratch my head, scrunch up my eyes, and think real hard. For some reason, I can’t remember the definition of theodicy to save my life. I have to look it up every time. (Rabbit trail: I really like the Command-Control-D sequence in a true Cocoa app; the instant dictionary rocks.)

According to the Oxford American Dictionary, Theodicy means, “the vindication of divine goodness and providence in view of the existence of evil.” Now, I don't know if that is what Herman Bavinck thought it meant, but when I put Bavinck's last sentence together with that definition, it goes like this:

“[Dogmatics] is a vindication of divine goodness and providence in view of the existence of evil, a doxology to all God’s virtues and perfections, a hymn of adoration and thanksgiving, a ‘glory to God in the highest’ (Luke 2:14).”

I like that. I think that makes sense.

Capital “F” Friends

A friend of mine reposted a quote regarding friendship, Facebook, and technology. The gist is that technology should not attempt to represent friendships. The purpose in this present post is not to debate that subject. After all, I don’t have a Facebook account; who am I to criticize?

Rather, I am merely using this as a segue into a sappy post about friends. The following is not original, but I think it is accurate. I lament the lack of deep friendships in life. When I look around, I see people who have huge numbers of so-called friends, but very few deep friends. In other words, there are friends with a little “f” and friends with a capital “F.” The first is a large group with sloppy admission standards, the other an elite, time-tested crew.

What is the difference?

A little “f” friend identifies themselves when they call.
A capital “F” Friend doesn’t have to.

A little “f” friend opens a conversation with a full news bulletin on their life.
A capital “F” Friend says, “What’s new with you?”

A little “f” friend thinks the problems you whine about are recent.
A capital “F” Friend says, “You’ve been whining about the same thing for 14 years. Get off your duff and do something about it.”

A little “f” friend has never seen you cry.
A capital “F” Friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A little “f” friend knows almost nothing about your family.
A capital “F” Friend knows the medical history, dietary habits and marital troubles of everyone on your tree.

A little “f” friend calls you at 10 p.m. just to chat.
A capital “F” Friend knows you hate to be called after 9 p.m.

A little “f” friend wonders about your romantic history.
A capital “F” Friend could blackmail you with it.

A little “f” friend when visiting, they act like a guest.
A capital “F” Friend when visiting, they open your refrigerator, put they’re feet on the sofa, talk back to your spouse and reprimand your children.

A little “f” friend thinks the friendship is over when you argue.
A capital “F” Friend knows that a friendship’s not a friendship until you’ve had a fight.

Uncommon Loyalty

“Fine,” Henry said. “Once my family is free and Flax gets them out, the rest of you can fight where you will or go home.” He pointed at Fat Frank. “Make sure they find my family.”

“No lad,” Frank said, shaking his head. “That’s for Jacques and his chestnut mob. I stay with you. We find the witch and pluck her beard.”

“Frank,” Henry said. “I don’t even—”

“Hush yourself,” Frank said. “Listen to those lions roaring in your blood. Even I can hear them. I know this wager. I know the odds, and I know the stakes.” He pointed up. “By the time this bleeding sun has bubbled in the sea, the game will be played and the tale told. Where your feet stand when the sun has set, there will be mine. If your blood pools, it won’t be pooling alone, and if there’s nought left but a pile of ash, it will be ash of Henry Maccabee and Fat Frank Once-a-Faerie.” He thumped his green mace against Henry’s breastplate. “We’ve stood the storm before, son of Mordecai. Now draw that faerie sword and let’s to war. Your father labors.”

—N. D. Wilson, The Chestnut King, pp. 437–438

The Chestnut King

I just finished N. D. Wilson’s latest book, The Chestnut King. Wow. It was fantastic. The Chestnut King was the third and final installment in the 100 Cupboards series of children’s books; however, they are not your mother’s children’s books. There is magic, suspense, swords, good, evil, love, and baseball—all of which you would expect. But the evil is really evil, and the blood is spilt blood, and the hero—a twelve year old boy—does some of the spilling. Don’t let that stop you from reading. Instead, remember what C. S. Lewis said about that.

One of the things—in my world anyway—which signals that a story, whether book or movie, was good is how long it sticks with me after it is over. If I am still thinking about it two days after it is over, then it was good. I think this is going to be that kind of book. I had an emotional bond with Henry York Maccabee and his family. I feel a loss having finished the book. I want to know more. I don’t want it to be over.

Now, there are only a handful of people who read this blog, mostly because I put it in your RSS feed. So, you know what I mean when I say that you are all working too much and should take a little time out to read a good book, or three. If reading a children’s book sounds beneath you, then you also need to remember what C.S. Lewis said about that. Go out and read this series. Now.

To Experience That Meaning More Fully

“A story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way, and it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is. You tell a story because a statement would be inadequate. When anybody asks what a story is about, the only proper thing is to tell him to read the story. The meaning of fiction is not abstract meaning but experience meaning, the purpose of making statements about the meaning of a story is only to help you to experience that meaning more fully.”

(Flannery O’Connor, Mystery and Manners, p. 96)

HT: Nick Nowalk

An Alternative to the Flickering God

ND Wilson has become my kids’ favorite author. His latest book, The Chestnut King, moved into the top three books ever for Kenz and the top one for Kayleigh.

I began working my way through the first two in the trilogy—again—before I started this one in order to get my head on straight regarding Henry York and his fantastical story. Kenz begged me today to skip it and just read the third one. “You'll remember, Dad, just read it. I can't wait to talk about it.”

Twelve pages in and I am lost again in a fabulous world. My palms are damp and my hands are cold, which is what happens when I am gripped by this kind of story. Immediate familiarity. Immediate danger, suspense, and a constant desire to read the next line. Good and evil. And most importantly, heroes. I absolutely love stories like this.

ND Wilson posted on Credenda/Agenda about writing for kids, truth, and adultish readers, of whom I am definitely one. (You might remember what C.S. Lewis wrote here and here.) Here are some quotes from Wilson's article. It is worth reading if you enjoy stories like I do.

This first paragraph explains why Nathan writes kids’ books:

I write kids’ books because I can tell the Truth, and the Truth is that The Real is throbbingly fantastic. Ask the nearest grasshopper or rodent or turtle. Ask the nearest star (but show some respect and don’t look directly at her—she’s powerful enough to peal your nose and blind your eyes). I want to paint a picture of this world that is accurate (if impressionistic), and I don’t want a single young reader to grow up and look back on me as the peddler of sweet youthful falsehoods. I want them to get a world vision that can grow and mature and age with them until, like all exoskeletons, it must be cast aside—not as false, but as a shallow introduction to things even deeper and stranger and more wonderful (and involving more dragonflies).

This second paragraph is (partly) why I read them:

A final point, disjointed but related. Many readers of children’s books are, in fact, adults. The line at any bookstore signing can tell me this. I don’t think it’s difficult to understand. Sure, some of the adult readers focus on children’s books for the same reasons that others focus on romance—they’ve developed a particular itch and they scratch it. But others are wandering the store (pickily) looking for flavors they remember from when they were kids, looking for their young eyes again, hoping to once more see the world how they used to. They’re looking for Mom’s apple pie and Grandma’s quilt. They’re looking for a kind of truth that's hard to find up at the adult table, but a truth nonetheless. Often they’re looking for something to fill that role for their own children. And sadly, they frequently bring along a bipedal lump of flesh or two—numbed by the flickering god—hoping I might have some mental-imaginative defibrillator tucked away in my book bag. Sometimes I do (and those are good times). Sometimes I don’t.

(Final caveat: my kids are, by God's grace, not numbed by the “flickering god”; they can be found reading books on the couches any given day.)

Conversation at Dinner

Son: Elizabeth has a guinea pig.

Dad: Why would she have a pygmy goat?

Eldest daughter: It's name should be Higby, the pygmy goat.

Son: Higpee, the pigby goat?

Youngest daughter: Higvee, the pygdee boat?

Middle daughter: Sounds like a cartoon.

Dad: Did you say guinea pig? I heard pygmy goat.

Mother: Laughing hysterically.

I wonder what sort of tale we've fallen into?

"Yes, that's so," said Sam. "And we shouldn't be here at all, if we'd known more about it before we started. But I suppose it's often that way. The brave things in the old tales and song, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually—their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on—and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same—like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren't always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of tale we've fallen into?"

—J. R. R. Tolkein, The Two Towers, p. 320

We don't see life as a story with any kind of arc

Christianity is no longer about changing the world. Christianity is no longer about facing the darkness and walking into shadow with souls full of light. We don't see evil as a thing to be conquered, we don't see life as a story with any kind of arc. We don't want our God to be the God of falcons and mole rats and skunk justice.

—N. D. Wilson, Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl, p. 152

It is the voicings of God

I see craft in the world. I cannot watch dust swirl on the sidewalk without seeing God drag His finger, or listen to spring rain running in the streets without hearing Him roll his Rs. For those who believe in an ex nihilo creation, the world is inevitably art, and it is inevitably art from top to bottom, in every time and in every place. The world cannot exist apart from the voice of God. It is the voicings of God.

—N. D. Wilson, Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl, p. 98

The best of all possible audiences

Every soul waits in the wings. Every life taken in age, tired and ready, taken in youth, in shock and sorrow, taken in pain or taken in peace, every needle now hidden in shadow waits in eager silence. I see my cousin. My nephew. Many faces, forgotten by those who followed behind, known always by the Author who needs no stone reminders. He is the best of all possible audiences, the only Audience to see every scene, the Author who became a Character and heaped every shadow on Himself.

—N. D. Wilson, Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl, p. 88

Two Recent Blog Posts about BCS

I work for Bethlehem College and Seminary, and am happy to pour out my life for an institution that seeks to raise up men and women to treasure Christ in every sphere of life. I am also excited to see that others have similar feelings. Here are two recent blog posts:

Thanking God for Bethlehem Seminary
John Piper
Chancellor, Bethlehem College and Seminary
Pastor for Preaching and Vision, Bethlehem Baptist Church

Why Bethlehem College and Seminary is Important to Disability Ministry
John Knight
Senior Director of Development, Desiring God
Volunteer for Bethlehem's Disability Ministry

What is the Gospel?

Answer from John Piper:

News Flash: CO2 is a pollutant

Okay, so I am going to copy Doug Wilson's post in its entirety, mainly because I laughed out loud.

The EPA, under the adroit leadership of Saruman, has now declared CO2 to be a pollutant. As the Staples Singers taught us so many years ago -- "put your hand on your mouth when you cough, that'll help the solution." And after these Hilaritards have regulated all us CO2 emitters into the ground, they will then turn their attentive ministrations to the real environmental challenge of the century, which is that of battling the plague of salt water.

I just want everybody to stare straight at this for about 120 seconds without blinking. The Greens have successfully won their battle to categorize as a pollutant that element which makes plants grow lush and green. Heh. This would be really funny if it weren't so hilarious.

You can read the whole thing here, but then again, you just did.

The Commanches then rushed on Jedediah

Our recent drive to Washington passed through Montana. We talked a lot about what it might have been like to be the first people to walk through that area. Who found the passes through the mountains? What was life like? What did the land look like without fences and farms and McDonalds?

At a rest stop in Montana we read a monument to a man named Jedediah Smith. Wikipedia describes how he died:

According to Dale L. Morgan, Jedediah Smith's biographer, Jedediah was looking for water for the 1831 expedition when he came upon an estimated 15-20 Commanches. There was a brief face to face stand off until the Commanches scared his horse and shot him in the left shoulder. After gasping from the injury, Jedediah wielded his horse around and with one rifle shot was able to kill their chief. The Commanches then rushed on Jedediah, who did not have time to use his pistols, and stabbed him to death with lances. Austin Smith, Jedediah's brother, was able to retreive Jedediah's rifle and pistols that the Indians had taken and traded to the Spanish.

This man, who likely died fighting Commanches in a box canyon somewhere off the Santa Fe Trail, blazed trails through Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Montana, Oregon, and California. He trapped fur and opened up much of the west to those who followed during the Gold Rush. He was only 32 when he died. He likely located passes through the Rockies that 18-wheelers drive today with regularity.

My soul is moved by the courage and bravery and hardiness of men like Smith. Maybe that's why I read everything Louis L'Amour wrote when I was in high school. (Don't fault my love of heroes by the quality of literature, even though I would still read L'Amour at the drop of a hat.)

They are nothing but devil's fools.

“We err in that we judge the work of God according to our own feelings, and regard not His will but our own desire. This is why we are unable to recognize His works, persist in making evil that which is good, and regarding as bitter that which is pleasant. Nothing is so bad, not even death itself, but what it becomes sweet and tolerable if only I know and am certain that it is pleasing to God. Then there follows immediately that of which Solomon speaks, ‘He obtains favor from the Lord.’ (Proverbs 18:22). Now observe that when that clever harlot, our natural reason (which the pagans followed in trying to be most clever), takes a look at married life, she turns up her nose and says, ‘Alas, must I rock the baby, wash its diapers, make its bed, smell its stench, stay up nights with it, take care of it when it cries, heal its rashes and sores, and on top of that care for my wife, provide for her, labor at my trade, take care of this and take care of that, do this and do that, endure this and endure that, and whatever else of bitterness and drudgery married life involves? What, should I make such a prisoner of myself? O you poor, wretched fellow, have you taken a wife? Fie, fie upon such wretchedness and bitterness! It is better to remain free and lead a peaceful, carefree life; I will become a priest or a nun and compel my children to do likewise.’ What then does Christian faith say to this? It opens its eyes, looks upon all these insignificant, distasteful, and despised duties in the Spirit, and is aware that they are all adorned with divine approval as with the costliest gold and jewels. It says, ‘O God, because I am certain that Thou hast created me as a man and hast from my body begotten this child, I also know for a certainty that it meets with Thy perfect pleasure. I confess to Thee that I am not worthy to rock the little babe or wash its diapers or to be entrusted with the care of the child and its mother. How is it that I, without any merit, have come to this distinction of being certain that I am serving Thy creature and Thy most precious will? O how gladly will I do so, though the duties should be even more insignificant and despised! Neither frost nor heat, neither drudgery nor labor, will distress or dissuade me, for I am certain that it is thus pleasing in Thy sight.’ A wife too should regard her duties in the same light, as she suckles the child, rocks and bathes it, and cares for it in other ways; and as she busies herself with other duties and renders help and obedience to her husband. These are truly golden and noble works…Now you tell me, when a father goes ahead and washes diapers or performs some other mean task for his child, and someone ridicules him as an effeminate fool, though that father is acting in the spirit just described and in Christian faith, my dear fellow you tell me, which of the two is most keenly ridiculing the other? God, with all His angels and creatures, is smiling, not because that father is washing diapers, but because he is doing so in Christian faith. Those who sneer at him and see only the task but not the faith are ridiculing God with all His creatures, as the biggest fool on earth. Indeed, they are only ridiculing themselves; with all their cleverness they are nothing but devil’s fools.”

(Martin Luther, “The Estate of Marriage,” in Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings, Ed. Timothy F. Lull. 2nd Ed. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2005), 158-159)

HT: Nowalk

Mess of Me

Switchfoot's new album Hello Hurricane is a lot of fun. It is loud and rowdy and has lots of Jon Foreman screaming. One of their songs, Made a Mess of Me (iTunes link) is an interesting look at total depravity, you know, from a pop/rock lyrical standpoint. The lyrics are below. I know crossing over is important, but it would be great if this song actually supplied the Gospel answer as well as stating the problem. I still really like the song, though.

Mess of Me

I am my own affliction
I am my own disease
There ain´t no drug that they could sell
Ah there ain´t no drugs to make me well

There ain´t no drug
It´s not enough
There ain´t no drug
The sickness is myself

- Chorus -
I made a mess of me I wanna get back the rest of me
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my life alive
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna reverse this tragedy
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive!

We lock our souls in cages
We hide inside our shells
It´s hard to free to the ones you love
Oh when you can´t forgive yourself
Yeah forgive yourself!

There ain´t no drug
There ain´t no drug
There ain´t no drug
The sickness is myself

- Chorus -
I made a mess of me I wanna get back the rest of me
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my life alive
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna reverse this tragedy
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive!

AHHHHHHOOOOO! Right

There ain´t no drug
There ain´t no drug
There ain´t no drug
No drugs to make me well
There ain´t no drug
It´s not enough
I´m breaking up
The sickness is myself
The sickness is myself

- Chorus -
I made a mess of me I wanna get back the rest of me
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my life alive
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna reverse this tragedy
I´ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my live alive
The rest of my life alive!!

What I am made for

I often think that I am schizophrenic when it comes to my career. We moved to Minneapolis believing that I was called to teach and preach the Word of God. Over the last five years that calling has been challenged as I struggled with studies and work and family. I really struggled creating new categories in my brain and learning the tools to study God's word well. I sinned by comparing myself to those who had more knowledge or learned faster or better. I am oh so slow and weak.

At times, I doubted my call. I figured that this was all a mistake. Should I go back to engineering?

This morning, as I am finishing my preparation for teaching Thessalonians tonight God gave me an insight, I think. I am inherently lazy. I was accused in college of "flying by the seat of my pants." I will happily do the least amount possible to accomplish a goal. So, when I am at the bottom of a hill looking up at a mountain of work, I would rather not climb the mountain.

But, this morning, after working for two days to climb the mountain of 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, I realized that the view from the top of the mountain is glorious. And I don't simply mean glorious, I mean really glorious. Mind-blowingly beautiful. Heart-wrenching, tear-producing, glorious truth. Truth and beauty and glory that must be shared, that must be proclaimed.

At this moment, sitting atop the mountain, I realize, I think, that this is what I am made for. Not simply to stand at the top of the mountain, but to share the view. To help other people see what I see. To proclaim, to plead, to describe, to exalt over, to exult in, and to display the view to the best of my ability.

My problem is the mountain. Tomorrow, after I have shared the view with the few people who will listen, I will come down the mountain. I will be tired and worn out and think, man, that was hard work. I will not want to do the hard work again. I will dread next week when I have to climb again.

Oh, how easily I forget the glorious view at the top. So, on one hand I believe that I am made to proclaim the view. But on the other hand, I do not delight in the hard work necessary to get to the top.

Therefore, I waffle around in the valley, wondering what my career should be and what I was called to Minneapolis for.

Earthy, humble, ministry.

I have thought a lot lately about how I should be ministering better to the non-Christians I have contact with, as well as the Christians that I have the privilege to teach at church. The practical suggestion at the bottom of this quote from Sumpter seems right. I hope that my ministry, whether at BCS or teaching on Wednesday nights, or somewhere else will be characterized by this earthy, humble, reality.

This means that Christian ministry must have Spirit-glorified flesh. So how do we gin up the Spirit? Which songs must we sing, which liturgy should we follow, how do we get the Spirit to incarnate our words, the gospel words we speak to those around us? Part of the answer is that it’s impossible, and that we cannot “get” the Spirit to do anything. The Spirit blows where He wishes, and we do not know His plans or intentions. But we do have the Scriptures, and we know the ways that the Spirit tends to work. The Spirit likes weakness. The Spirit glorifies the humble. The Spirit carves life out of the dirt. One practical suggestion is that Christian ministry needs to embrace the weakness of human flesh. Pastors and elders and parents must learn to hug and kiss and cry and shout and plead. The Word has to sink down into our earth, our bodily earth, into our emotions, our passions, our bodies in order to spring up into newness of human life.

Read the whole thing.

The Bible on Friends

A friend speaks face-to-face. (Exo 33:11)
A close friend can be described as one “who is as your own soul.” (Deut 13:6)
A friend is expected to be loyal. (2 Sam 16:17)
A friend is expected to be loyal. (2 Chr 20:7)
Withholding kindness from a friend is as forsaking the fear of the Lord. (Job 6:14)
Bargaining over your friend is a bad thing. (Job 6:27)
Grieving for a friend is like lamenting one’s mother. (Psa 35:14)
A close friend is trusted, one who you eat bread with. (Psa 41:9)
A friend loves at all times. (Prov 17:17)
A friend sticks closer than a brother. (Prov 18:24)
Faithful are the wounds of a friend. (Prov 27:6)
A friend gives earnest counsel. (Prov 27:9)
A friend is not to be forsaken. (Prov 27:10)
A friend is the opposite of an enemy. (James 4:4)

Thank you—you know who you are!

This week, someone close enough to know some particulars about our life gave us a gift anonymously. Since we don't know who you are, we are spreading our thanksgiving.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

The fact that this person is anonymous does not diminish our thankfulness. Nor does it diminish our knowledge that the gift was given in love, love that first came from our savior Jesus Christ.

Thank you, whoever your are, in Christ.

The Abell Six

I want my kids to be educated, not trained.

Some people who know us have questioned why we home school our children. Hey, even I have. My first answer is that I want my kids to be able to think for themselves. In order to do that, I think they should be educated in critical thinking, by reading, asking questions, writing, and interacting with other great thinkers. They should learn how to diagram sentences and analyze propositions, and communicate properly whether in writing or speech. They should be able to problem solve.

On a related note, I have noticed that by God's grace, I don't really care what job my kids get when they grow up. Instead, I want them to be able to think and reason and talk and act in such a way that God is glorified and they are happy—whether they become a doctor, lawyer, or short order cook. I want my kids to be educated, not trained.

Here is a quote from Doug Wilson's recent blog post on higher education that inspired me to comment.

This unholy alliance between higher education and industry was successfully accomplished, and the system has become unquestioned, and almost unquestionable. Moreover, it has become a system that many Christian parents insist on maintaining. Even while opposing Obama's proposals for socialistic health care (because they don't want "socialism"), they insist on perpetuating the central engine of socialism (as well as the central example of it) by having their kids go to the very schools that Marx demanded of us, and got. And on top of that, when someone proposes that their older student attend a liberal arts school that is seeking self-consciously to reestablish the old tradition, the parental (and Marxist) objection is often that they "want their kid to be able to get a job." But before we think about getting a job, we need to train the next generation how to get a life.

Read the whole thing.