Unfinished Summer Reading

I like books. Or to be more specific, I like reading the first 3 chapters of a book. Better still, I enjoy browsing through book reviews, recommendations and back-cover blurbs en route to compiling my own ever-changing list of titles under consideration. These tendencies have given rise to a knack for delineating and categorizing the various 'tribes' of books and authors within the niche market of evangelical publishing, a world that never ceases to fascinate me. Besides, scanning back-cover blurbs requires far less of an attention span than actually sticking with a book all the way to its end.

These days, my 'radar screen' list of titles yet to be purchased or borrowed typically contains around 50 books at any given time- and that's if I'm being picky. Oh, and let's not forget the appeal of biblio-aesthetics with dust jackets, spines, cover art and binding providing plenty of fodder for scrutiny and classification. I'm especially smitten with the smell of brand new books (mail orders are usually best). And while it's always satisfying to finish reading a good book, it doesn't happen nearly often enough. Many are opened, but few are completed.

This could be due in part to the nature of non-fiction books, a genre not known for surprise endings. To be sure, there are plenty good titles and authors. But that's essentially what you're buying: a title and an author. The book's main thesis and author's reputation will often forecast the bulk of what's coming. In most cases, it's not difficult to extract 80% of a book's message by learning the author's background, scanning some key reviews/endorsements and reading the first 20% of its pages. Only in select cases is the remaining 80% of content worth plowing for the final 20% of insight. Which explains my increasingly crowded (but nice-looking and smelling) shelf of partially-read books. Why dig for substance when there's all that style on the surface?

A far cry from last year's productive summer, here's a sampling of my unfinished reading from the summer of 2010:

Wendell Berry- What are People For? (North Point Press, 1990)

Mike Bickle- Growing in the Prophetic: A Practical Biblical Guide to Dreams, Visions and Spiritual Gifts (Charisma House, 2008)

Julie Clawson- Everyday Justice: The Global Impact of our Daily Choices (IVP, 2009)

Jack Deere- The Beginner's Guide to the Gift of Prophecy (Regal, 2008)

Kevin DeYoung & Ted Kluck- Why We Love the Church: In Praise of Institutions and Organized Religion (Moody, 2009)

Annie Dillard- The Writing Life (Harper Perennial, 1990)

James Davison Hunter- To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World (Oxford University Press, 2010)

Colin Marshall & Tony Payne- The Trellis and the Vine: The Ministry Mind-shift that Changes Everything (Matthias Media, 2009)

Eric Metaxas- Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy (Thomas Nelson, 2010)

Lesslie Newbigin- The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Eerdmans, 1989)

Tim Stafford- Never Mind the Joneses: Taking the Fear out of Parenting (IVP, 2006)

Ed Stetzer- Planting Missional Churches (B & H, 2006)

Sam Storms- Convergence: Spiritual Journeys of a Charismatic Calvinist (Enjoying God Ministries, 2005)

John Stott- The Cross of Christ: 20th Anniversary Edition (IVP, 2006)

Trevin Wax- Holy Subversion: Allegiance to Christ in an Age of Rivals (Crossway, 2010)

Dallas Willard- Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God (IVP, 1999)

Trivia and Trash

Here's something I recently read in Eugene Peterson's book, Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at its Best (IVP, 1983):

"There is little to admire and less to imitate in the people who are prominent in our culture. We have celebrities but not saints. Famous entertainers amuse a nation of bored insomniacs. Infamous criminals act out the aggression of timid conformists. Petulant and spoiled athletes play games vicariously for lazy and apathetic spectators. People, aimless and bored, amuse themselves with trivia and trash."

Try enjoying an evening of television consumption after reading that one.

What's Wrong with this Blog?

Where to begin? For starters, the font is too small, the posts are too infrequent and the topics are more scattered than my 3-year-old's toys before bathtime. I'm like a disoriented wannabe archer lackadaisically shooting noodly arrows skyward with my eyes closed... once a month. No target + no practice = this blog.

And even if I miraculously developed the aptitude to generate semi-useful content with any regularity, the layout would still need a major facelift. Quite simply, I'm long overdue for a switchover to WordPress. Everyone knows that Blogspot is like, so 2008. But more than just greener cybergrass, WordPress is clearly the provider of choice for anyone who (unlike me) wants to actually keep their blog in functional working condition. And speaking of site maintenance (or the lack thereof), my book/music/film recommendations are never updated so they really need to go.

As for the pretentious "About Me" section, it tells you nothing except that I'm too concerned with your opinion of me to reveal what I really think (or even what I look like). If nearly all of my favorite bloggers are candid enough to post at least a tiny thumbnail photo of themselves, why am I still hiding behind a black-and-white sketch of a bird? Why wear a mask you don't even like? Why bring something for show and tell if you won't take it out of the bag?

There may come a day when I finally convert to WordPress, carve out a critical mass of "followers" and take the evangelical blogosphere by storm with a steady stream of ultra-clever, gospel-centered, justice-minded, mission-driven, skeptic-savvy, doctrinally-grounded, community-oriented, book-reviewing, article-linking, key thinker-interviewing, conference-promoting, speaking tour-date mentioning blog posts. The comments will flow, the web hits will show and the buzz will grow. Today is not that day.

Book Review: Evolving in Monkey Town

Rachel Held Evans and I share a lot in common. We’re both 29-year-olds who were raised in evangelical homes and attended small Christian colleges from 1999 to 2003. We’ve both experienced our fair share of disillusionment with various aspects of American evangelicalism and have lived to blog about it. Topping off the similarities, her husband’s name is Dan while my wife Rebecca sometimes gets called ‘Rachel’ by mistake. So it comes as no surprise that I enjoyed reading my advance copy of Rachel’s winsome new book, Evolving in Monkey Town: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask the Questions (Zondervan).

Growing up in Dayton, Tennessee (site of the famous Scopes Monkey Trial of 1925 which debated the teaching of evolution in public schools) as the overachieving daughter of a theology professor, Rachel was a Sunday School superkid raised in a Bible Belt subculture of zealous apologetics. Though adept at defending her Christian worldview against doubters and skeptics during her high school and early college years, everything changed when she began experiencing doubts of her own. The most potent ones involved questions concerning (you guessed it) why God would allow horrific human suffering or send millions of non-Christians to eternal torment in hell. Frustrated with the simplistic answers she knew so well, Rachel questioned her dad one Friday afternoon describing the quandary this way:

It’s like God runs some kind of universal sweepstakes with humanity in which all of our names get thrown into a big hat at the beginning of time… Some of us are randomly selected for famine, war, disease, and paganism, while others end up with fifteen-thousand-square-foot houses, expensive Christian educations, and Double Stuf Oreos. It’s a cosmic lottery, luck of the draw. (p. 99)

If such irreverent theological sniping makes you uncomfortable, you might have hard time with this book- which is precisely the point. Undergoing a process to re-evaluate all your previously unshakable beliefs from scratch is no fun, especially in the foothills of Southern Appalachia. But if you’ve ever felt conflicted about similar questions, you will be refreshed by Rachel’s intellectual honesty and courage in facing her fears. Far from drowning in a sea of skepticism, her faith re-surfaces more vibrant than ever. While critics might contend that Rachel is promoting doubt to the detriment of faith, this is not the case:

I would argue that healthy doubt (questioning one's beliefs) is perhaps the best defense against unhealthy doubt (questioning God). When we know how to make a distinction between our ideas about God and God himself, our faith remains safe when one of those ideas is seriously challenged. (p. 220)

As it turns out, Rachel's quest has not really been about finding good answers to life's toughest questions after all. If answers were all she wanted, she clearly demonstrates an intellect and theological acumen capable of researching them. This is not to say there aren't any good answers worth seeking on such important matters. If anything, Rachel's writing indicates she is already more familiar with apologetics than most people in our generation. And though she could articulate the correct evangelical responses with flair, she needed something different, namely, the simple permission and empathy of hearing someone say, "You know, I'm not sure what to make of that either." (p. 190)

Evolving in Monkey Town is a thoughtfully entertaining and engaging read packed with adventurous questions from start to finish. While I didn't always agree with the way she nuanced the nature of the atonement, biblical interpretation or the ever-controversial tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility, I have tremendous respect for Rachel's perspective, particularly on the important subjects of doubt and spiritual questioning. Based on the interactions we've shared via her excellent blog, I've been impressed by her uniquely provocative yet welcoming approach to theological dialogue. An attentive learner and genuine listener, she is one of the most gracious and authentic people I've encountered in the blogosphere. Evangelicals of all ages would be wise to give her survival story a good hard listen.

Our Son, God's Child

Just over a week after his first birthday (May 10), we found out that our second son Vincent has a cancerous tumor in his liver. While there's more than enough bad news to call this a full blown family crisis, there's not quite enough to rule out the possibility of a full recovery. The scenarios are seemingly infinite at this point, not unlike the range of emotions that accompany this sort of thing. If fear and anxiety are like mosquitoes, we're navigating a swamp full of standing water.

And yet, there is light flickering in the darkness. I had no idea it was possible to feel so shocked, devastated, afraid, thankful, hopeful and at peace- all in the same moment. I'm certain it has something to do with the multitude of friends and loved ones praying for us around the globe. I suspect it also has something to do with my soul being anchored in the resurrection power of a Messiah familiar with suffering, a risen King who is before all things and in Whom all things hold together (Col 1:17).

In the midst of preparing for the worst, hoping for the best and praying for a miracle, I've found comfort from an unlikely source: theology. Yup, it turns out that theology, that supposedly dry and dusty set of doctrinal propositions, makes all the difference in the world when a crisis hits. Whether you're aware of it or not, your concept of God will affect how you pray in the midst of chaos and suffering. What kind of triune Being is He? Is the Father ultimately near or detached from those in pain? Can the Holy Spirit be called upon to work miraculous healings in the 21st century or not? Will Jesus really come back someday to vanquish all injustice and disease? Do we live with the recognition that His blood on the cross has inaugurated a reign of peace in which He is reconciling all things to Himself- including things like liver cancer?

John Stott put it this way: "I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross... In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?"

May the supernatural, unfailing, parental love of God for Vincent be sufficient for all of us who long to see him healed.

NOTE: Please visit Vincent's CaringBrige website for the most recent updates on how his treatment is going as well as prayer requests, photos and much much more!

School Every Friday? Now There's a Smart Idea!

To the astonishment of 170,000+ kids and their parents, it appears that Hawaii's politicians and labor unions have consented to the unthinkable idea of keeping our schools open 5 days a week!

All sarcasm aside, I was glad to receive the following email yesterday from James Koshiba of Kanu Hawaii on the subject of Hawaii's K-12 students finally getting their lost school days reinstated for next year. Not only does he thoughtfully express the concerns shared by many of us who want to prevent a debacle like this from happening again, he also recaps how the school furlough standoff reached its conclusion in case you (like me) weren't keeping track of each twist and turn. For anyone with kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, friends with kids or yet-to-be-born kids who might possibly attend public school someday in our beautiful state (whether in 2010 or 2025- the year my firstborn will graduate), I recommend reading what James has to say:

Aloha Friends,

Nine months after contract negotiations first cut instructional days for keiki, and seven months after the first citizen rally at the Capitol, Furlough Fridays have finally come to an end.

At a press conference this afternoon, the Governor, the DOE Superintendent, Speaker of the House and Senate President announced the plan to end school furloughs – essentially the same plan that had been floated by many, including us, as early as October of last year. Here’s how the furloughs ended:

The Legislature passed a bill allocating $67 million from the hurricane relief fund to reduce furlough days. The Governor said today that she would release $57 million instead of the full amount. Teachers apparently agreed to convert six of their paid planning days to instructional days. A small amount of federal stimulus funds ($2.2 million) and a $10 million, zero interest line of credit from private banks will be used if there is a remaining shortfall next school year.

We should take a moment to celebrate the fact that keiki will get a full school year next year.

Then, we should ask some hard questions about why it took so long to come up with a solution that is essentially the same as one proposed last Fall – a plan that, if adopted earlier, could have restored instruction for students this year, and left legislators, the Governor, the DOE and the teachers’ union time to come up with creative solutions for next year (or, at the very least, spread remaining furlough days across two years instead of concentrating lost learning). We should also ask some pointed questions of our leaders and ourselves:

What responsibility to the public do public unions bear during an economic and fiscal crisis? Did our unions’ actions help or hurt the public? Did it help or hurt the teaching profession?

What is the role of the Governor in negotiations? When parents and the public ask for a hearing with the chief executive, what is the appropriate response?

What was the proper thing for the Legislature to do? Did they act with the appropriate speed, thought, and resources? Did their actions encourage or discourage citizen participation?

Why wasn’t there more parent and community participation in the efforts to end school furloughs?

We should not ask these questions in a spirit of bitterness or blame (though righteous outrage shouldn’t be discouraged, either). Rather, we should ask to sharpen our understanding of what fundamental changes are needed to prevent something like this from ever happening again. And we should ask one final, important question of ourselves: What now?

Back in October, we wrote: “Getting 17 days back would be a real victory and good step. But, it's a step that only gets our kids back to where they were – behind other kids who are learning more elsewhere. We must channel the outrage about Furlough Fridays into a more sustained and organized effort to change our school system and support it with parent and community energy.”

That remains our charge today. For those willing to take it up, here’s a way to start:

The new Superintendent and many educational leaders are crafting a framework for reform. The framework is inspired, in part, by the federal Race to the Top program. Here are some essential elements that we may require citizen support:

• Teachers and principals should be evaluated on a regular basis. Employment incentives (tenure, advancement, salary) should be based on performance, including student outcomes, parent surveys, peer reviews, and other metrics – rather than simple seniority.

• We should invest in the collection and sharing of actionable data about students and their learning outcomes – data that can help inform planning for schools, parents, and the DOE.

• Parents should be actively involved in education – supporting classroom learning at home, supporting teachers and schools through volunteerism, participating actively in parent-teacher dialogues, and advocating for their kids’ interests (at the school-level and higher levels of policy making).

There are more elements of the reform platform. We should get familiar with them. At the most basic level, though, it’s about shifting a pervasive mindset of low expectations to one of high expectations all around. Teachers should have high expectations of all students; they should believe that all students can achieve. Parents should have high expectations for every school and every teacher; they should insist that their schools and teachers be excellent. Teachers should expect much of parents in the home and at school; they should expect that parents are active supporters of learning. We should all expect more of our legislators, our BOE, our DOE, our unions, and our Governor.

Expecting excellence from each other doesn’t mean we have to be jerks – instead, it calls on all of us to be “critical friends,” acknowledging that we each have a role to play in education, and insisting that each puts forth our best effort for the sake of our keiki, speaking hard truths when someone isn’t pulling their weight.

Mahalo to all of you for doing your part to bring this crisis to a conclusion. Now, it's time to direct our energy to the hard work ahead.

Creating a system of education that calls on the best in all of us – parents, teachers, principals, and adult friends of children -- to shape an education that Hawaii's children deserve.

With aloha,

James

Emotional Men & Rational Women

Here's something I recently read in Jim and Sarah Sumner's book, Just How Married Do You Want to Be? (IVP, 2008):

Christians have to be careful not to buy into the paradigms of the world. It's the world that says that men, being masculine, are rational and women, being feminine, are emotional. The Bible doesn't say that at all. It flies in the face of Scripture to say that men are not emotional- because that would make them incapable of rejoicing in the Lord or mimicking Christ's anger or grieving about sin with the Holy Spirit. It likewise flies in the face of Scripture to say that women are not rational- because that would make them incapable of following the commandments to renew their minds and meditate on Scripture and take every thought captive to Christ. According to the Bible, men and women alike are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-27); thus both are emotional and rational.

A Few Questions

A Few Questions

Why am I doing this?

What am I striving for?

Who is this about?

Where to next?

What have I gotten myself into?

Will I regret this?

Have I given it enough thought?

Am I thinking too hard?

What are my priorities?

Can I live with the trade-offs?

Am I a good husband and father?

According to who?

Am I overly ambitious?

Am I too easily satisfied?

Am I working too hard?

Am I slacking off?

Too driven?

Too lukewarm?

Aiming too high?

Settling?

Is the struggle really worth it?

What will it cost me?

Have I sacrificed too much or not enough?

Why so many questions?

Am I taking care of myself?

Am I too self-absorbed?

What am I trying to prove?

Do I understand grace?

Why are you downcast, O my soul?

Isn't my life now hidden with Christ?

Haven't I been found by the Great Shepherd?

If I know Who is God, why can't I be still?

Alex Trebek doesn't know it all?

As a fan of useless trivia, I usually enjoy watching Jeopardy! despite the frequently condescending attitude of host Alex Trabek. On yesterday's show, the snootiness caught up with him while exchanging pleasantries with a contestant named Amy.

According to an unofficial transcript, the conversation went something like this:

Alex: Amy Wilson, our new champion, likes dressing up for Halloween.

Amy: I do. Literary figures.

Alex: Some of the figures you have, uh, dressed up as are?

Amy: Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind, Dumbledore from Harry Potter...

Alex: [insulted] I know where Rhett Butler is from. I know where Dumbledore is from.

Amy: I'm sorry Alex. And also Sam, Sam Gamgee from... [pausing to offer Alex both an olive branch and an opportunity to show forth his encyclopedic knowledge]

Alex: [puzzled] Sam Gamgee? I'm not familiar with that character.

Amy: Sam Gamgee from Lord of the Rings?

Alex: Oh, good. Mm-hmm.

Down low, too slow

Here's my problem with blogging: I'm too slow for it. I'm a slow thinker, a slow writer and consequently, a slow blogger. I have dozens, if not hundreds of ideas with nothing to show for them except unrefined fragments and incomplete thoughts.

Of course, I'm not slow at everything, just the things I care most about. Writing takes more time than reading. Coherence requires more effort than complaining. Creating demands more space than than consuming. It's easier to copy and paste than cultivate something halfway original. Even publishing a quick and ranty blog post takes me far longer than skimming through 150 posts on Google Reader.

So why do I spend most of my time on the things I care least about? Probably because I'm quick to dive but slow to swim. Over committed and under compensated, I've painted myself into more corners than I can count. A perfect case in point is my burdensome grad school investment that is "too big to fail" with no bailout in sight. It's too late to pull out, but too early to see any fruit.

Here's a good recipe for frustration: Commit yourself to things that take a ton of time and leave yourself no time to complete them with any degree of joy or satisfaction. Mix well and repeat. You'll soon be stewing in your own juices.