October (continued)
31. Cryptonomicon (Neal Stephenson) (audiobook)
Background:
The second half of a home assignment has its own special kind of stress, especially when the fruits of the weeks before returning to the field increase in proportion to how social one can be. For serious introverts that can make it an exhausting time as well. During those tiring but good and fruitful days, which included lots of driving around Texas, I listened to a very long and rather unique book I'd read a long time ago. This historical-ish fiction novel was written by geek-overlord author Neal Stephenson, and contains long passages of mathematical theory, explanations of the foundations and basic theories of cryptography, and historical exposition of the second world war period with many satirical additions and emendations.
The Basics:
A multi-era novel with several plot lines taking place during World War II, and in the 90's. The War, English attempts to crack the Nazi's enigma code and the art and science of cryptography in general, and one young genius codebreaker's experiences are balanced against the adventures of a savvy pair of web entrepreneurs in the 90's, hoping to achieve more than financial success through their start-up based in the Philippines.
The Good:
The narrative unfolds at a pace leisurely enough to accommodate Stephenson's usual vast amounts of extraneous but pertinent information, slowly constructing several plotlines that could each be novels in their own right. One takes place in the 90's (the present, at the time of writing) in which some very internet-savvy friends have started what they think can be a ground-breaking web-based business in the Philippines, which begins to evolve into something greater, which involves island dictators, data havens, and Nazi gold among other things. The physical connection to WWII history is but one of the very many ways the story is built into a decades-spanning meta-story that takes the reader from pipe organ math in the Midwest to surprise Komodo dragon attacks on remote Pacific battlefields to top-top-secret Bletchley Park in the English countryside and the heart of the allied efforts to crack Nazi codes. There's so much going on in this work, and Stephenson somehow keeps track of the threads well enough to keep weaving them into the ongoing narrative in unexpected and creative ways.
The Questionable:
Stephenson's writing style is fairly unique. People who don't welcome lots and lots of details, who prefer not to pause every few pages to delve into the inter-connected backstories of the ideas and people that lie behind history and theories we now take for granted, are probably not going to make it through the first several chapters. For some of us, however, the exchange of information is a kind of love language, and Stephenson showers his readers with that sort of agape.
Stephenson takes an interesting approach to the idea of religion and faith. He is by no means a believer, and his writings take a cynical attitude towards faith traditions, correctly observing that vast numbers of people who consider themselves religious have little understanding of what they profess to believe and often live in states of profound ignorance. Yet at the same time he acknowledges the power of faith, and sometimes seems to recognize the universal truths in Christianity are compelling ideas that must be addressed separately from the failings of those who profess to live by them. It seems to be the stance of a man who would like to reflexively smirk at those things atheists like to smirk at, yet recognizes the intellectual slothfulness of doing so and therefore takes a more carefully neutral approach, giving credit where he feels it is due, and taking note when people do live by what they profess.
The Bottom Line:
For engineers or other people who love information and detail, Stephenson's earlier novels (up to and including Reamde) may be unique among all books for their enjoyment value. They manage to combine what would be several college courses' worth of information into an interesting and plausibly constructed narrative, with memorable characters and story moments as well.
32. The Life of God in the Soul of Man (Henry Scougal - Paul Lamb)
Background:
As I got settled back into the swing of ministry, this book was recommended to me by a missionary colleague.
The Basics:
A short book which is an updated English translation of a long letter written over 350 years ago by Henry Scougal. Scougal was a Scottish theologian seeking to encourage a friend whose faith had lapsed, and instruct him in all the vital basics of living the Christian life and seeking a relationship with God. He died at only 28, of tuberculosis, but his published letter lives on centuries later.
The Good:
The list of books I think should be required reading for every English-speaking believer is a short one (Mere Christianity by C.S.Lewis is on it). This book/epistle deserves to be on it as well, not for any deep or impressive new insights raised, but for its earnest description of what it means to be in relationship with one's Creator. In its day Scougal's letter inspired such giants of the Great Awakening as the Wesleys and George Whitfield, and this version is a translation by Paul Lamb which brings the archaic English of the original into a version accessible to modern readers. At only 61 pages long it is not long, and is very much worth the time.
The Questionable:
I could wholeheartedly recommend this book as necessary reading for every believer (especially those who have known God long and need to hear the basics again in a passionate way) except for one glaring flaw which emerges somewhat unexpectedly later in the book: a very strong streak of neo-platonism, the "matter is evil, spirit is good" dichotomy which, taken to a further extreme, leads down the path of gnosticism. The author does not stray outside the bounds of what is recognized to be orthodoxy (the whole Western church has dabbled and more than dabbled in neo-platonism), yet it is a serious flaw in an otherwise joyful and convicting piece of spiritual writing.
The Bottom Line:
With the above-mentioned caveat about neo-platonism, this is a book of great value that I'm surprised I only heard about last year. Anyone who seeks to love God and live a life of faith in this world should read it.
Nov/December
33. Eternal Security (Charles Stanley)
I find my journey of faith tends to move through a slow cycle of emphasizing what can be known and what cannot. At some points at the extreme end of the latter times, the idea of eternal security can seem a little dubious. This need not involve doubting any principle tenet of the faith; for me it most often comes when I consider the vast gulf between who God is and how my life would reflect His glory. It was at a time like that I decided to read a book which set forth a case for eternal security
Thoughts:
The problem with doubts and fears about eternal security is that they are primarily emotional. (Not to say irrational--it's precisely the eternal importance of the question that makes it reasonable to be very concerned) An anxiety regarding one's eternal destination and whether one has "really believed," given the existence of passages of Scripture which seem to suggest the possibility of deluding oneself or falling away, is an understandable struggle and a real challenge for many believers, but not one that can be rectified by "right answers." (Versus, say, a spiritual experience of the presence of God in a unique way which allays one's fears) Therefore, Stanley's attempt to calmly deal with each potential objection by explaining how no passage which appears to suggest salvation can be lost actually means that doesn't necessarily accomplish the stated objective of the book. (To be fair, Stanley admits this up front)
There are a few points in the book where the author makes some leaps of interpretation which simply aren't justified. The most notable is when he attempts to resolve fears over the "cast into the outer darkness" passage in the parable about the wedding feast by saying these are believers too, just less happy ones. Twisting around to find a convoluted interpretation in order to make your case seem more consistently air-tight is a quick way to kill the credibility of your other, sounder exegesis.
The Bottom Line:
If you are struggling with assurance regarding your faith, this book is not the silver bullet to resolve that, but I don't believe there is any such thing. On the other hand, a look into the passages frequently cited regarding this question, whether you agree with Stanley's understanding of the passages or not, will probably be helpful for you as it was for me. I suspect there are better books out there that address this subject, but other than one or two obvious missteps, this isn't the worst place to start.
34. Salt - A World History (Mark Kurlansky)
One entry in a list of Kurlansky's interesting series of books that take a particular thing or product and examine their far-reaching effects on world history. In this case, salt turns out to be that commodity you already knew was important but never realized how much.
The Good:
Perhaps you didn't know that salad, saucer, and soldier all come from the latin word for salt. I hadn't known that the Chinese logograph for "well" does not, in fact, represent the cover of a water well, but the bamboo scaffolding for a salt well. There are a wealth of interesting facts and connecting flow of history based around salt that I was entirely ignorant of before reading this book. There are even various period recipes included. I listened to the audiobook, and it's an excellent choice for interesting listening that doesn't require much concentration.
The Questionable:
A good portion of the book is given to describing the history of salted fish, which overlaps with some of Kurlansky's other books, like the history of Cod. Some reviewers felt buying the one book and then the other felt like paying twice for a lot of the same content. I have not read the history of Cod, but Salt is very much worth the read as far as I'm concerned.
Bottom line:
A well-seasoned book full of interesting facts and things you probably hadn't heard before.
35. Millennials and the Mission of God: A Prophetic Dialogue (Andrew F Bush and Carolyn C Wason)
Background:
As the end of the year approached, a school board on which I sit all read this book together and did some devotional discussions based on it. Millennials are no longer "the weird college kids" who seem to be on a different wavelength than their elders, and are now the pool of increasingly experienced teachers from which we hire. This book was suggested as a way to better understand the deep generational divide that now exists between older believers and "woke" younger generations, and to some extent it accomplished this purpose, though not perhaps as the authors intended.
The Basics:
This book comprises an ongoing conversation between a Boomer-aged Christian man and a younger Millennial (iPad, not iPod) woman as they try to figure out communication across generational gaps and the challenges and failures of the Church, and sharing the gospel in a brave new world.
The Good:
Had this book pretended to provide answers or some kind of model to follow (other than the importance of connecting across generation and worldview gaps), it would have earned my sincere condemnation. As it is, the book presents itself as a conversation (rather ambitiously described as a "prophetic dialogue" in the title, for reasons I am not sure after reading it) between two people across a generation gap, which serves as a useful frame to consider what has changed in the past half-century, and how conversations between generations with divergent values might look.
Both parties make earnest attempts to communicate with each other, across a variety of communication methods, and the book is presented as a sort of record of how the project went. This allows readers to draw their own conclusions from the dialogue in addition to any that the authors hope to helpfully provide.
The Questionable:
The book tries to illustrate the difference in perspectives of older and younger generations of believers and warn that the divide is getting nearly impossible to cross. It succeeds at this goal in some ways, but this is undermined by the fact that both participants in this conversation come from the same strain of progressive worldview. The older man doesn't seem to realize that the younger woman's quite dysfunctional worldview (something she herself admits) which he sometimes struggles to understand, is simply the ideological offspring of his own, almost two generations down the road. The Boomer asserts that we need more diversity in the Church, praises the Millennial emphasis on this issue, then is disconcerted that these new voices claim he and his ilk have said enough and it's time to shut up and listen, yet doesn't have any strong way to counter this idea.
I was reminded of how Richard Dawkins became famous by blasphemously mocking the very concept of God, yet recently has expressed qualms about the disappearance of Christmas from England. One minor theme of the early 21st century is radical thought leaders of the past several decades getting a good look at the fruits of their efforts and not always liking what they see. (As political groups and ideological scavengers profit from the aftermath)
Bottom Line:
This book can be very informative if approached as the authors intended, not as a book with any answers but as an illustrative dialogue which reveals, among other things, the dyscivilizational dysfunctionality of a woke millennial psyche (e.g. "I spend a lot of time feeling apologetic about the space my body occupies"), and how that conflicts with the very concept of truth, and evangelism, something the book's millennial co-author does helplessly recognize. The conclusions you reach from what you find here may not be what either participant in the book's titular dialogue would agree with, but it may serve as a call to renew our efforts to foster intra-generational dialogue, a warning about where US culture is headed, or a vivid picture of how those who sowed the wind must watch their children and grandchildren reap the whirlwind.
36. Loving Jesus (Mark Allen Powell)
The title says it all. This is a book all about loving Jesus, how it's tough, how we sometimes neglect this particular aspect of our faith, how we need to think about it differently, and how gloriously significant this calling is.
Thoughts:
I highly recommend this book. Whether or not one agrees with every conclusion Powell reaches, the ideas and issues he raises should have an important place in the mind and heart of any Christ-follower. One of his main themes at the outset, and which he revisits, is the idea of a "second naivete"--after the initial naive period of excited new faith, once we have endured unexpected hardship and encountered too many things that don't seem to fit conveniently into any theological boxes, when trying to walk in faith in a broken world has begun to make us harder and more cynical, to willingly embrace and engender the same childlike faith we had at the outset. This is a compelling idea for those of us who have walked long with God and accumulated a lot of baggage on that faith journey. As a theological professor, Powell swims through the dangerous waters of academic religion; many of us who went through seminary understand the head vs. heart struggle that can happen there, and how it's all too easy to lose one's first love in the midst of text critical method papers. However the touchstone that sustains him is his simple love for Christ, birthed back in the "Jesus Freak" days and never lost.
Powell fleshes out a concept in his book which I think is highly valuable for Christians who are not new to the faith, a practiced piety which is not hypocritical or legalistic, but in which love for Christ is expressed through continued devotion whether or not it is accompanied by the enthusiasm of new faith. It is a mature faith which has not fallen out of love with its Redeemer. He works through his overarching ideas methodically using a series of dichotomies (this extreme is often replaced by an opposite extreme) and often finds a way forward by rejecting the false dichotomy presented to us or lazily fallen into and suggesting that, in Christ, we can have the best of both worlds, a child-like love and devotion but also a mature and tested faith.
Bottom line:
This is one of the best books I read in 2019, and one to bump toward the front of your reading list and make sure you actually read. There are concepts introduced by Powell here that, if you have followed God for a while, and especially if you're feeling a little faith-fatigue or "dryness," may be the catalysts to new growth and joy in your spiritual life.
***
Epilogue:
I am guessing this particular entry won't ever have many readers, being a third-part book review post coming 4 months too late. However, in the multi-year history of this blog it may be the singular post I'm most proud of; it represents my determination to finish a series of posts I started no matter how utterly I lost motivation to do so in the midst of a busy season of major life changes and formidable writer's block. If you do happen to be reading this, I wish you similar success in finishing those tasks you utterly lost motivation to complete halfway through.
