Pleasure seeking

To be human is to be a pleasure-seeker.

We are fond of thinking of the dissipated fellow partying all night, drunken, sleeping around, and experimenting with drugs as a pleasure-seeker. We are not likely to think of the sturdy fellow who goes to school, gets a job, and raises a family as a pleasure-seeker. Instead, we call him a level-headed chap. Then there are the philanthropists and volunteers. We call them altruistic. Certainly they are not pleasure-seekers. And finally, there is the missionary who travels to a different land to face certain death. He cannot be a pleasure-seeker, we say. We either call him crazy or a hero for his self-sacrifice.

Yet each of these is a pleasure-seeker.

Pleasure seeking does not distinguish one man from another, for pleasure seeking is a trait common to man. What separates one man from another is not that he seeks pleasure, but what he seeks pleasure in.

Furthermore, what separates one man from another is his relative success at not only seeking but finding pleasure.

The dissipated man is forever chasing a fleeting pleasure, a buzz that quickly fades. The steady man may have traded these “buzzes” for the pleasures of stability and comfort. The altruistic man has denied the buzz of the dissipated man–and perhaps even the stability and comforts of the stead man–for the pleasures of “doing the right thing” or the laud of other men.

All of these are pleasure-seekers, seeking pleasure in a variety of things. Each man trades some form of pleasure for another, depending on what he feels most likely to bring him long term pleasure. Some pleasures last longer than others. None of these last forever.

The Christian does the same thing. The difference is that while all these other pleasures are earthly and momentary, the Christian knows the source of true eternal pleasure.

The Chinese believers who face certain death as they seek a way into North Korea to share the gospel of Christ crucified and risen–they do so in pursuit of pleasure. They deem Christ the highest pleasure t be found–and are thus willing to forgo even fleshly life itself in order to chase after Him.

Crazy?

Only if God is not the eternal source of pleasure.

Heroes?

Perhaps.

Or maybe just the ultimate in pleasure-seekers.

God-seekers

(This is the beginning of my notes and reflections on Desiring God by John Piper. See other notes on the same topic by clicking the Desiring God tag.)


Crying “Uncle”

How many times in my moments, hours, days, months of sorrow have I cried out to the Lord for mercy? Like a boy wrestling with his much stronger brother, I plead “Uncle.” I can’t take it any more. The pain is too strong. I have not the power to keep fighting. Mercy, I beg.

Could it be in those days that He refused my request in order to answer my prayer?

“Mercy,” I pray.

And in His mercy, He ignores my “Uncle.”

I can’t take it anymore.

In His mercy, He keeps giving it–until I learn to cast my cares on Him.

The pain is too strong.

In His mercy, He lets the pain remain so that my faith can be refined.

I have not the power to keep fighting.

In His mercy, He keeps the fight going until at last I put down my arms.

In His severe mercy, He refuses to change my circumstances–lest in my changed circumstances, my heart should be unchanged.

A Severe Mercy–to give me not what I want, but what I need.

“It was death–Davy’s death–that was the severe mercy. There is no doubt at all that Lewis is saying precisely that. That death, so full of suffering for us both, suffering that still overwhelmed my life, was yet a severe mercy. A mercy as severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”

~Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy


Reading Meme

Borrowed from Carrie, who borrowed it from Barbara, who got it from a Booking Through Thursday prompt.

What are you reading right now?

Founding Faith by Steven Waldman.

Oddly, that’s all I currently have going. I expect that to shortly change :-)

Do you have an e-reader?

No sirree, Bob! I’m a paper and ink girl–a semi-Neo-Luddite (as much as one can be while being an avid blogger, that is!)

Do you prefer to read one book at a time, or several at once?

I’m always reading several books at once–but I like there to be only one fiction title going at a time. I have a harder time keeping fiction plots and characters straight if I’ve got more than one going at a time. So fiction generally gets read in fits and bursts instead of a few chapters a day like the rest of my reading.

Have your reading habits changed since starting a blog?

Yeah–I started keeping my books out of the library forever so that I could get them all reviewed! I also occasionally wonder “How will this look in my Nightstand post?” But I never censor my reading for Nightstand posts, even though I’ve thought of doing so. What you see is what you get–although it doesn’t always mean what you think :-)

How often do you read out of your comfort zone?

Less often than I’d like. But there are just too many books to be read–and too many IN my comfort zone to keep me busy.

What is your reading comfort zone?

Girlie novels (certain Christian romance novelists, chick lit, stuff that’s all about interpersonal relationships), Juvenile and YA fairy tale adaptions, memoirs, sociological type stuff. Okay–my reading comfort zone is pretty wide. It’s easier to say what ISN’T in my comfort zone than what is.

What ISN’T in my comfort zone is mysteries, suspense, science fiction, smutty romance novels, and fiction that makes you think. (It’s the fiction that makes you think that I’d prefer to read more of, by the way).

Favorite place to read?

In the bathtub.

What is your policy on book lending?

I only lend books I own :-)

and books that I know the library doesn’t own.

Otherwise I direct people to the library.

Christian living/theology/doctrine books, I lend out carefully on a few conditions:

  1. I have to know who has what
  2. The person I loaned the book to has to actually read the book
  3. The person I loaned the book to has to be willing to either write notes in the margins or discuss the book with me once they’re done or both!

Do you ever write in the margins of your books?

Of MY books, absolutely. Generally, though, I only write in nonfiction titles–I write arguments, Scripture references, other thoughts, etc. And, as I mentioned above, I beg anyone I loan books to to do the same.

What makes you love a book?

I love a book that I don’t have to work too hard to get into =). And I like if it portrays good and evil as good and evil. I like…

Man, that’s a hard question. I’m not sure what makes me love a book. I just know that I love it.

What will inspire you to recommend a book?

For fiction, if it is well-written, engaging, accurately depicts reality (good and evil, interpersonal relationships, etc.), and has some cross-genre appeal. Otherwise, I tend to qualify my recommendation as to where it fits within the genre.

For nonfiction, if it is well-written, engaging, and addresses a valuable topic in what I deem to be a thoughtful (or at least thought-provoking) manner.

Genre you rarely read (but wish you did?)

Fiction that makes me think. I tend to want to turn off my brain when it comes to fiction–but from my brief forays into fiction that makes me think, I know that it’s worthwhile. I just don’t take/make the time and mental energy to read them.

Favorite biography?

That’s a tough one. I tend to remember the person being “biographed” rather than the biography itself. The only thing that comes to mind is not strictly a biography–more an autobiography or a memoir. But I love Corrie ten Boom’s Hiding Place

Most inspirational book you’ve read this year (fiction or non-fiction)?

I haven’t read much from the “inspirational” front this year. I’ve been more into the “get down to the nitty-gritty, challenge your faith, figure out what you believe” front. Lots of exercising my mind towards the things of God, not a lot of “heart-warming” stuff.

How do you feel about giving bad/negative reviews?

Not sure how I feel about it. I do give negative reviews. But whether I should, and how I choose which books to review (even though I had a negative impression of them)? I guess I give negative reviews when I think there’s a good possibility that some people could be led astray by the book if they don’t read some truth about it, or if a book had pros and cons, or if I expected a book to be good based on other reviews, book jacket flaps, whatever and was disappointed.

Most intimidating book you’ve ever read?

Plato’s Republic. I was in sixth grade. I wasn’t intimidated then. I am now! Then, of course, I didn’t feel the challenge of having to understand it. I read it, but didn’t understand it. Now I’m frightened.

Most intimidating book you’re too nervous to begin?

Tolstoy’s War and Peace and Anna Karenina. Despite reading and enjoying everything my library owns by Tolstoy apart from these two titles, I’m still intimidated. It’s a Russian novelist thing. I’ll get over it eventually.

Favorite fictional character?

Elizabeth Bennet

The longest I’ve gone without reading.

Summer 2006, Jacksonville Florida. Two months. Only read the Bible. Challenging. Growing. It was my “Summer of One Book.”

Apart from that? I don’t think I’ve ever gone more than a day since I learned to read. And I’m not exaggerating at all. (Just ask my mother and siblings!)

What distracts you easily when you’re reading?

My sisters shrieking wildly because my brother had just proposed to his girlfriend.

Other than that, I am NOT easily distracted. I was one of seven children, homeschooled, in an 1100 square foot house, remember?

Favorite film adaptation of a novel?

A&E’s Pride and Prejudice

Most disappointing film adaptation?

I’d ditto Carrie and Barbara and say Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story. I don’t know that you can even call that an adaptation.

What would cause you to stop reading a book half-way through?

Absolute boringness or complete and utter heresy. I’ve done it with only a handful of books: Oz Garcia’s The Healthy, High Tech Body, Larry McMurtry’s Books: A Memoir, and Joel Osteen’s Become a Better You. Those are the only books I can remember stopping reading (without writing myself a note to pick them back up again.)

Do you like to keep your books organized?

Yes–but the organizational system varies. My fiction is ordered by author’s last name. My nonfiction is ordered by topic. My Biblical reference/Christian living is ordered partly by topic, partly by last name, and partly by what looks good on the shelf :-). My library books are ordered either by size or by due date, depending on how confident I feel that I’ll be able to get everything read before it’s due back!


Church and State

Jon Meacham’s introduction to American Gospel (link is to my review) was sufficient to give me fodder for an entire post of quotes. The rest of the book proved to be equally rife in thought provoking quotes.

I present a brief selection (since I probably ought not retype the entire book!)

“Winthrop’s text [‘City upon a hill’] is frequently used as a source of reassurance about our exceptional national destiny, yet we should not be so quick to think that an ancient phrase of his can help us smooth over the rougher passages of our history, or that telling ourselves we are a special people entitles the country or any element within it to impose its will on others under the cloak of divine sanction.”

This reminds me of…well…Calvinism…actually. You see, Calvinists should be the most humble people in the world. After all, we affirm that we have been saved by absolutely no merit or choice of our own. Likewise, if America has indeed been called to be a city on a hill (although, of course, that passage refers to disciples of Christ, not to America)–but if America had been called to be a city on a hill, that should be an incredibly humbling thing. To be chosen by God to be on display? Surely not because we are great, but because He has some purpose to work through us. This ought drive us to our knees, to humility, that we might live for and fulfill His purposes–not that we should proudly consider him to have given His stamp of approval to our purposes.

Williams was mostly interested in saving the church from the state, not the state from the church. The world was the world; the kingdom of God was something else entirely. ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,’ Jesus said, ‘and to God the things that are God’s.’ Williams called for a ‘hedge or wall of separation between the Garden of the church and the wilderness of the world.’ Note that Williams was not planting a hedge or building a wall to protect the state, but rather religion, believing that the ambitions and vices of men could pervert the church, turning faith into a means of temporal power.”

I think Williams and Greg Boyd would have gotten along together well :-)

“Even the preachers of the day saw the wisdom of keeping Williams’ garden and wilderness separate. The reasoning was rooted in both conviction and in pragmatism: church and state would be more powerful apart than they would have been if joined together.”

A very interesting statement to be sure. Are church and state more powerful apart than together?

“‘The magistrate is to govern the state, and Christ is to govern the church,’ said Reverend Samuel Stillman in a 1779 sermon to the Supreme Court of Massachusetts. ‘The former will find business enough in the complex affairs of government to employ all his time and abilities. The latter is infinitely sufficient to manage his own kingdom without foreign aid.’ The religious knew, too, that to ally themselves with the powers of the temporal world might result in momentary gain, but only momentary.

I love that last line of Stillman’s: “The latter [Christ] is infinitely sufficient to manage his own kingdom without foreign aid.” Amen!

“‘[In] allying itself with a political power,’ Tocqueville said, ‘religion increases its power over some and loses the hope of reigning over all.’…He was not speaking theoretically, but from experience and history. ‘In Europe, Christianity has permitted itself to be intimately united with the powers of the earth,’ he said. ‘Today these powers are falling and it is almost buried under their debris.'”

Thinking of the fate of Christianity in the former Holy Roman Empire and both its Catholic and Protestant successors, I am inclined to think that this historical argument is a great one against the marriage of church and state.

“[Franklin] did not mean to imply, he said, that ‘our General convention was divinely inspired when it formed the new federal Constitution….Yet I must own that I have so much faith in the general government of the world by Providence, that I can hardly conceive a transaction of such momentous importance…should be suffered to pass without being in some degree influenced, guided, and governed by that omnipotent, omnipresent, and beneficent Ruler.‘”

If God is indeed sovereign and sovereignly orders the world according to His will, then America is what it is because God willed it. But this is not reason for boasting, as though God places His stamp of approval on all that America does. Rather, it should be reason for trembling, since the same God who raises nations can also fell them in accordance with His will.

“If the first shall be last and the last first, then who are Christians to exert power over others by the sword or the purse or the polling place?”

An utterly fascinating question–with an incredibly complex answer (Our book club over The Myth of a Christian Nation spent ten or so weeks discussing that question–and I’m not sure we managed to come to any definitive conclusion.)


Nightstand (August 2010)

On last month’s nightstand:

On my nightstandOn my nightstand

What I actually read this month was…
(Click on the titles to see my reviews.)

Fiction

  • Love Comes Softly by Janette Oke
  • The Quest by Nancy Moser
  • Second Time Around by Nancy Moser

Nonfiction

Juvenile

*****************Begin Note**********************
I generally review what I can prior to my nightstand post and figure that I’ll leave what I didn’t get to un-reviewed. I DO NOT want to do that with Jon Meacham’s American Gospel or Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird–both are too excellent to not write about. I hope to write about both over this next week–the reviews will be linked in my “Recap” post that comes out Saturday evenings at 11:59. So if you want to read my thoughts on either of those books, check back sometime on Sunday for the link. Otherwise, if you see a linked title on this post (or any other of my nightstand posts), the link will lead to my review.
*****************End Note**********************

Currently in the middle of…

On my nightstand

  • Dug Down Deep by Joshua Harris
    I’m still working on this one slowly with my book group–I’ll let you know when I’ve got a formal review done!
  • Founding Faith by Steven Waldman
    A history of church and state in the United States. So far, quite interesting. It makes a case for there not having been a uniform religion among the Founding Fathers–leading to interesting discussions of the interactions between church and state.
  • Proverbs: The Wisdom of Solomon translated by Rabbi Rami M. Shapiro
    I’m reading this along with my daily Bible reading (which currently has me in Proverbs.) This is a free translation (somewhat akin to the Message, only by a Jewish rabbi who appears to be rather secular)–and it makes for some interesting reading and comparison.
  • A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken
    Lisa reviewed it, I recapped it, Casandra raved about it–and then she lent me her library copy so I could read it (Casandra’s my roommate, for those who were wondering!) Thus far, this is a spectacular true story.

On this month’s nightstand:

I’m going easy on myself this month, recognizing that I’m starting up quite a few new things that’ll likely eat a significant portion of my time. Thus, there are only (!) 13 titles on this month’s nightstand (not counting the homemakey books and the children’s picture books, of course.)

On my nightstand

Fiction

  • By Way of the Silverthorns by Grace Livingston Hill
  • A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway
  • Love’s Enduring Promise by Janette Oke
  • Love’s Long Journey by Janette Oke
  • Masquerade by Nancy Moser
  • Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

Nonfiction

  • How to Write & Publish a Scientific Paper by Robert A. Day
  • Manufacturing Depression by Gary Greenberg
  • The Narnian by Alan Jacobs
  • The World According to Mr. Rogers
  • Your Best Life Now by Joel Osteen
    (After reading Osteen’s Become a Better You, I’m not sure whether I’ll read this one or not–I’m guessing I’ll skim it just for the basics so I can dialogue about it in an informed manner. Please read my thoughts on Osteen for a better understanding of why I’m reading/skimming this title.)
  • A dozen craft/decorating/homemakey books

Juvenile

  • Children’s Picture Books author BA-?
  • C.S. Lewis: The Chronicler of Narnia by Mary Dodson Wade
  • The Homeschool Liberation League by Lucy Frank

Drop by 5 Minutes 4 Books to see what others are reading.
What's on Your Nightstand?


Book Review: “The Myth of a Christian Nation” by Greg Boyd

View my disclosure statement for more information on how I choose books to review.

America is a Christian nation founded on Christian principles. Our founding fathers were Christians. America is a second Israel, a chosen nation to promote God’s message around the world. Christians in America need to take America back for God–we need to outlaw abortion, pass laws to protect the sanctity of marriage, and fight for Christian prayer in schools.

Does any of this sound familiar?

It certainly does to me–a homeschooled daughter of conservative Christians. My school textbooks read America as a Christian nation through and through–until the corrupt sixties destroyed everything. Admittedly, I generally took this story of history with a grain of salt–but I know plenty who had been raised on the secularly revisionist history of the US who now take this “Christian” version as gospel truth. To them, the call to “take America back for God” is THE calling of the American church.

Greg Boyd’s The Myth of a Christian Nation challenges these and other assertions of the “religious right.”

Boyd’s primary thesis is that Christians miss the point when they make political involvement central to faith. Boyd argues that there is a fundamental difference between the way “the kingdoms of the world” operate and the way “the kingdom of God” operates. The kingdoms of the world attempt to change behavior by exercising power over people; while the kingdom of God changes hearts as the church demonstrates what Boyd calls “power under” living–service and self-sacrifice, following the example of Christ in the cross. Boyd argues that when Christians emphasize politics (a “power over” approach), they dilute or pollute their Christian witness–and fail to walk in Christ-like “power under” love.

I have to say that this book was rather uncomfortable for me–pretty much all the way through. While Boyd states from the beginning that his beef is not merely with the “religious right” but with any political agenda that the church takes on as its own, 100% of his criticism is of the religious right. As a conservative, and one who would probably be lumped by pollsters into the category “the religious right”, I struggled against the temptation to be offended by Boyd’s one-sided criticisms of conservatives.

I spent at least the first three chapters “reserving judgment”. I wanted to hear Boyd out, to really listen to what he had to say. And I’m glad I did.

Boyd’s strength in this book is his clear emphasis on how the kingdom of God differs from the kingdom of the world–and that the primary concern of the Christian should be to exercise kingdom of God “power under” rather than kingdom of the world “power over”. He makes a wonderful point that the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world are completely distinct–and should be kept completely distinct.

“To be sure, a version of the kindgdom of the world that effectively carries out law, order, and justice is indeed closer to God’s will for the kingdom of the world.… But no version of the kingdom of the world is closer to the kingdom of God than others because it does its job relatively well. For God’s kingdom looks like Jesus, and no amount of sword-wielding, however just it may be, can ever get a person, government, nation, or world closer to that. The kingdom of God is not an ideal version of the kingdom of the world; it’s not something that any verison of the kingdom of the world can aspire toward or be measured against. The kingdom of God is a completely distinct, alternative way of doing life.”
~Greg Boyd, The Myth of a Christian Nation

Boyd does a good job, in my opinion, of urging Christians to see living in a Christ-like, others-serving, “power-under” manner as their primary call; rather than seeking political influence as their primary goal. What Boyd does less well is clearly articulate how a Christian might have a godly attitude towards and involvement in politics. That is, one could easily read Boyd and think that the only appropriate thing a Christian can do in relationship with politics is to quietly vote his or her conscience. While Boyd never explicitly says that a Christian could never campaign for a candidate or cause, run for office, or otherwise “move and shake” politically–that is the impression that this book gives.

Because I am not a huge fan of the “Christian nation” narrative made popular in works such as Peter Marshall and David Manuel’s The Light and the Glory, I was not particularly worried about or offended by Boyd’s alternate narrative which makes America out to be an almost completely secular nation (a la current secular revisionist history.) However, my reading on the subject (two excellent books on church and state and the founding of America are Jon Meacham’s American Gospel and Steven Waldman’s Founding Faith) suggests that the reality fell somewhere in between these two extremes. Again, since my presupposition (as well as my reading of history) falls somewhere between the two extremes, I took Boyd’s rendering with a grain of salt, just as I have with Marshal and Manuel’s. But I wonder if Boyd’s extreme secular interpretation fo history would drive away those who have fully bought into what Boyd calls the “Myth” of a christian nation–making them unable or unwilling to see his true thesis amidst their (partly justifiable) outrage.

I have tons more thoughts on The Myth of a Christian Nation–but I’m already running rather long. This book (and the book club with which I read it) challenged me greatly, changing my mind on some things, clarifying my thoughts on others, and encouraging me to search deeper on yet more. Even though I do not find myself agreeing with everything that Boyd has written (or perhaps because I do not agree with everything Boyd wrote), I am very glad that I read this book–and that I chose to hear Boyd out through the sections which I could have chosen to take deep offense at.

I encourage other readers to do the same. Read this book, choose to reserve judgment, choose to quell the offense you might be tempted to take, choose to search through and pray through Boyd’s thesis. Maybe Boyd will change your mind. Maybe he won’t. But I promise you that you’ll have a deeper and wider perspective on the kingdom of God and on how politics may or may not fit in that for having wrestled with Boyd’s arguments.


Rating:4 stars
Category: Religion and Politics
Synopsis: Boyd argues that “the quest for political power is destroying the church.”
Recommendation: Many may find this book offensive (I know I was definitely tempted to take offense)–but I think Boyd’s thesis is certainly worth grappling with. Christians (particularly those who are interested in politics) would do well to read this book and wrestle through the ideas found within.


Read-Aloud Favorites

I don’t often get a chance to read my library selections aloud to youngsters. Instead, I read most of my picture books silently, by myself.

As a result, most of my reviews of children’s picture books are based on, well, my own opinion of the books and how I think youngsters might respond.

But this last week, I had an opportunity to babysit for a couple of my favorite little ones–avid readers at age 4 and 2.

I brought along a selection of library books and we started reading them one by one. We’d gotten about halfway through my stack when they started asking for repeats (instead of continuing through.)

These three titles by Jim Aylesworth were the ones they wanted to hear again:

Children's books by Jim Aylesworth

Country Crossing tells the simple story of a railroad crossing in the nighttime country. All is quiet except for crickets chirping and an owl hooting. But the a car drives up and is stopped at the tracks. The train approaches and departs. The car starts up again and drives away. And the country returns to its quiet activity.

What makes this story unique and repeat read-aloud-able is its use of onomatopoeia and rhythmic language to give the listener a feel for the activity occurring as the car and then the train approach and recede. The illustrations by Ted Rand are old-timey and fairly realistic. I enjoyed reading this one out loud–and the children enjoyed listening and perusing its pages.

Little Bitty Mouse is an understated alphabet book that describes how a little mouse snuck into a house and explored a variety of the house’s contents. Every few pages, the story repeats the refrain

Tip-tip tippy tippy
Went her little mousie toes.
Sniff-sniff sniffy sniffy
Went her little mousie nose

The story is enjoyable, with a nice rhyme scheme and an unobtrusive alphabet element.

But the part that probably endeared it to the kids was the very end when the little bitty mousie hears a “ZZZZ” and goes to investigate. What she finds–a cat sleeping–frightens her, and she lets out a “Squeak!” (The four year old jumped every time I turned the page to see the cat and let out my own shrill pitched “Squeak!”)

Sweet Little Bitty Mousie,
Just as scared as scared can be,
Went run run run run running!
That was all she cared to see!

Jim Aylesworth’s Book of Bedtime Stories is a compilation of four stories. We started to read these a second time, but didn’t get all the way through due to the kids’ Mommy arriving home. So I’m not sure exactly what appealed; but, like the other two stories, these stories featured a pleasant rhythm and rhyme structure, fun onomatopoeia, and simple but engaging story lines.

These stories were a hit with a couple of kids–and this reader wasn’t complaining about the repeats!

Reading My LibraryFor more comments on children’s books, see the rest of my Reading My Library posts or check out Carrie’s blog Reading My Library, which chronicles her and her children’s trip through the children’s section of their local library.



A Dose of Cold, Hard Reality

“There is no such thing as a perfect man,” Evan basically tells her, “and if there was, he wouldn’t marry you.”

Lori Gottlieb was on her way to a new way of looking at dating and marriage–thanks to a dose of cold, hard reality.

She shares her journey in Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough. (See my review here.)

Along the way, she provides a dose of reality for her readers–and I couldn’t stop noting down fantastic quotes.

“Clampitt matches people like this: ‘Number one,’ she said, ‘I look at whether the two people have common relationship goals. Number two, I look at values. Things like independence, family, religion, loyalty. Number three, what are the key qualities this person needs? You get no more than five. Things like, he has to be very intelligent. Number four, I look at shared interests. Interests are great because it’s bonding and stimulating and fun to share those, but the other things are more important for the long-term. I put shared interests last for that reason.”

My dad said something similar when I was reeling from a breakup with a guy with whom I shared a lot of interests. Dad, of course, was saying it as an “other fish in the sea” type comment. But the fact remains, shared interests are only one aspect of a happy marital relationship–and a small aspect at that.

“Ferman says she took immediate physical chemistry off her list when she realized that, given a certain level of attraction, she could find someone very attractive over time.”

I tried to explain this concept to a friend. It took a while, but I think she eventually got it. At least for women, physical attraction is about a lot more than the physical. Physical attraction is just as much a function of shared values, experiences, thoughts, emotions.

You say you won’t date someone you’re not attracted to, I ask how you know you’re not attracted to him. Do you know him well enough to know that, really?

No, I’m not saying you should marry someone you’re not physically attracted to. But I am saying that there is a very real sense in which someone you are not attracted to initially becomes very attractive as you get to know them. And I’m not talking about “He has a beautiful mind–so what if I can’t stand his body?” I’m talking about real, honest to goodness physical attraction–but physical attraction that doesn’t exist until other connections have been made.

“So when these matchmakers ask their clients to consider the guy who is too-this or not-that-enough, they’re actually saying something quite simple: You can have rigid expectations and try to find someone who meets them, or you can let go of preconceived notions and find someone you’ll fall in love with.”

I’ve seen the lists a mile high, with dozens of non-negotiables. It’s the Goldilocks phenomenon, except that there’s no “just right” to be found. The problem is, these lists might be lists of what we want, but they’re only occasionally lists of what we need. In the quest for the fantasy man, women are not even giving a first glance to the many real men who might be around–and just might be “Mr. Right”–but who fail to live up to the standards of the non-existent fantasy man.

“Dr. Broder says he sees a heightened sense of entitlement that previous generations didn’t have. Our mothers might have wished, but certainly didn’t expect, that their husbands would constantly want to please them, be attracted to them, entertain them, enjoy sharing all their interests, and be the most charming person in the room. Instead, they knew that marriage involved failing health, aging, boredom, periods of stress and disconnection, annoying habits, issues with children, and hardships and misunderstandings of all sorts. But many women today seem to be looking for an idealized spiritual union instead of a realistic marital partnership.”

Have I ever mentioned that I’m a big fan of Gary Thomas’s book Sacred Marriage? Well, I am. The major question that book asks is “What if God intended marriage not to make us happy, but to make us holy?”

If you’re looking for a marriage in which you can continue living as you please without having to make adjustments, without having to be sanctified, without having to love sacrificially, you’re sadly mistaken about the reality of married life. Marriage requires you to learn selfless love, to lay down your life for and submit to your spouse. The quest for the “perfect” man belies this truth–and sets up marriages for failure. Because even if you manage to find the “perfect man”–and he decides to marry you, marriage is still going to be a challenge, it’s still going to be a process of sanctification.

“If this sounds unromantic, when I look at my friends’ marriages, with their routine day-to-dayness, they actually seem far more romantic than any dating relationship might be. Dating seems romantic, but for the most part it’s an extended audition. Marriage seems boring, but for the most part it’s a state of comfort and acceptance. Dating is about grand romantic gestures that mean little over the long term. Marriage is about small acts of kindness that bond you over a lifetime. It’s quietly romantic.

Compared to the “dream world” of chick flicks and romance novels, reality can seem pretty cold, pretty hard. But compared to the reality that living in the dream world creates, facing reality is a lot more pleasant.


Executive Summary

My dad claims to have only finished one book in his lifetime–a Hardy Boys mystery he finished in high school.

It’s not that my dad isn’t smart. He’s just not a reader. He says he never opened his textbooks–he just attended lectures and explained things to his roommates. He’s not sure reading would have done him any good.

He loves information, loves learning, but he reads slowly, laboriously. It requires a huge amount of work from him.

So he finds other ways of getting information. He listens to lectures, podcasts, and sermons. He reads short chunks online. He listens to talk radio discussions of books. He watches the history channel or documentaries.

And occasionally, he has his children read for him.

I have always been a voracious reader. I started reading in kindergarten, and by first grade, I was sneaking out of bed to read late into the night with the light that streamed from the cracked open bedroom door.

In sixth grade, I read Plato’s Republic and had my dad borrow copies of Jonathon Edwards’ sermons from the University Library.

Shortly thereafter, I became my dad’s designated reader.

He’d buy a book, bring it home, present it to me, and inform me that he wanted an executive summary. (This, of course, was after he’d spent dinner times of my entire elementary years attempting to teach me the concept of “summary”–particularly that a summary was shorter than the original work.)

And so I’d read a book and then give Dad the summary. We’d talk about what I’d read, the ideas found within. I’d read a few quotes aloud and he’d ask questions when my summary wasn’t clear.

It was a fantastic teaching strategy–and a way for Dad to read without reading.

The only problem was that since Dad didn’t actually see the book he was “reading”, he sometimes forgot that he’d “read” it. One day, in my later teen years, he brought me home a book, Spurgeon on Prayer and Spiritual Warfare. I congratulated him on his purchase and told him that he now had a copy for himself. I had my own copy–it was one of the first books I’d summarized for him.

After I went away to college, I had other things to do and the habit of reading and discussing my reading with my dad fell by the wayside.

Until one day, I got a yen for the executive summary. I’m not sure how much my summaries enriched my dad’s mind–but I know that it had an indelible impact on me. I learn so much more when I engage the material, when I talk or write about it, when I discuss it with someone else.

So I started writing executive summaries. This time they’re on my blog. And instead of my dad, you are now my unwitting partners in learning.

Maybe Dad learned from my summaries, maybe he didn’t.

Maybe you enjoy my summaries, maybe you don’t.

But I’m gonna keep writing them, because they keep my mind alive.

(Some examples of books I’ve written executive summaries of in the past year include The Cross of Christ, Forgotten God, Unveiling Islam, and Why We Love the Church)


I could never myself believe in God

Notes on John Stott’s
The Cross of Christ
Chapter 13: Suffering and Glory

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross.”

This quote is found on the back of my library’s copy of The Cross of Christ. I’ve seen it every time I grab the book to read it–and, quite frankly, it has always mystified me.

Sure, if it were not for the cross, God would be a very different God than the God of the Bible, since the cross is the crux of all Scripture (pun partially intended!) But does that mean that I could not believe in Him? I don’t know. I mean, He would still be powerful and in control and creative and so on and so forth. Surely I could still believe in Him. Couldn’t I?

As I said, that quote puzzled me.

But then finally, in the very last chapter of the book, I found the quote’s origins. And then I understood.

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as ‘God on the cross’. In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples…and stood respectful before the statue of the Buddha…a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our sufferings become more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering.”
~John Stott, The Cross of Christ

Stott is not speaking of whether or not he could believe that God exists without the cross but of whether or not he could believe in Him–that is, whether he could place his trust in this God.

A God who is incapable of pain, who is merely a detached observer, cannot be trusted. A God who cannot be touched by suffering is a God who can heedlessly cause all sort of suffering. And we would be right to rail at Him: “What are we,” we might say “but pawns in a game, moved about to suit your purposes without any regard for our suffering.”

But the God of the cross is ultimately worthy of trust. For He has experienced our pain, has borne our pain, has drunk the full dregs of God’s wrath. He has suffered at man’s hand and at His own father’s hand. And it is He, who has for our sakes experienced pain beyond our comprehension, who now calls us through the pains of this world to take heart for He is using these light afflictions, which are but for a moment, to work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory (II Cor 4:17).

I could never myself trust in God, if it were not for the cross.

Yet because of the cross, I can make no better choice than to entrust my all to Him who bore my suffering.

(See more of my notes on The Cross of Christ.)