Christopher Buckley is a modern master of political satire. I'm not sure he has the brilliance of his father, William F. Buckley of National Review fame, but he channels what brilliance he did receive into highly entertaining political fiction. Boomsday tells the story of a 20-something activist who foments a rebellion against baby boomers. What starts as a blog calling on young people to raid gated communities and tear up golf courses grows into a full-fledged political movement promoting legislation which offers tax incentives to people over 70 to commit suicide. This "voluntary transitioning" would solve the social security solvency crisis, freeing up resources for the younger generations.
The unlikely romp has plenty of twists and turns and random connections between characters, but Buckley makes it work. He holds nothing back with his Dickensian character names and his skewering of just about everyone. An equal-opportunity offender, he spares no one the barbs of his humor. The Christian Right and the pro-life movement get special treatment in Gideon Payne, founder of SPERM, Society for the Protection of Every Ribonucleic Molecule. He is a Baptist, from the South, of course, but the Catholics have the smooth-talking Vatican emissary who, living on a not-so-sacrificial budget in a Georgetown mansion, preys on the grieving widows of rich lay people, convincing them that the Lord would be pleased with their generous gifts to the Church. The pompous press, with their thinly disguised Sunday talk shows, and especially the den of Washington lobbyists, are roundly ridiculed as well.
Boomsday is full of some great one-liners and riffs on the ridiculous nature of our political culture. Buckley mocks pointless political junkets: Preparing for Congressman Jepperson's visit to Camp Turdje (the d is silent) in Bosnia, Cass's captain muses, "Fact finding. . . . The fact is we don't have any more facts left. We ran out of them about a year ago. Still they come in search of them." He skewers the practice of "presidential commissions" where ideas go to die while the commissioners issue self-important statements and the administration can claim that they diligently pursued a solution or resolution to whatever the commission was convened for. His portrait of Washington culture and processes may be skewed, but it sure is funny.
The biggest target, of course, is boomers, self-indulgent, pampered, and retiring too early. Through their lobbying group, they seek tax breaks on Segways and botox, tax breaks for their ever-grander mausoleums, and other privileges. Many of Buckley's criticisms ring true, but he fails to adequately address similar faults in the selfish, self-indulgent attitudes of what he calls the Whatever generation. They certainly could use some good skewering as well.
Buckley raises the question of the future of social security in mocking, hilarious way, but he has clearly done his homework. Like all good satire, once you stop laughing at how ridiculous the story is, you think, "Wait a minute, this is a real problem, and I don't think anyone in government has a solution for it!" What are we going to do? I hope for all of our sakes that someone comes up with a better solution than voluntary transitioning. In the meantime, for a good laugh, pick up Boomsday.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
The Runner's Rule Book, by Mark Remy
A few months ago, I noted (here) a review in the Star-Telegram of Mark Remy's new book, The Runner's Rule Book: Everything a Runner Needs to Know--and Then Some. Remy, an editor at Runner's World, has a great sense of humor and definitely knows the world of running. Any reader might find some humor in Remy's rule book, but those of us who are runners, or have been around road racing, will laugh out loud as they recognize themselves and the crazy people they've run with. You might even learn something, too!
Rule 1.1, Have Fun, and its follow-up, Rule 1.2, Expand Your Definition of Fun, introduce the tone of the book. I don't know how competitive Remy has been as a runner, but these rules remind the vast majority of runners--those of us who will never be in the Olympic trials and who run marathons knowing they will be way, way behind the winners--that it's all about having fun. In that light, I need to heed Rule 1.44, One Day a Week, Run Naked, by which he means, without a watch, GPS, or headphones. I get a bit particular about recording my runs, even when they're terrible, and could use that advice. I would be better off if I lived up to Rule 2.44, Becoming a Human Metronome is Fun. I have a terrible time keeping track of my pace without my GPS; I would love to be able to run a mile and predict my pace.
Remy covers etiquette with groups, at races, and on a track, clothing do's and don'ts (I especially liked Rule 3.11, You Can Always Take Off Clothing, and 3.13, When In Doubt, Wear Gloves and a Hat.), and bathroom advice ("If you see a porta potty with no line, use it. Even if you don't need to." "On a long run, it's always better to have a bit of toilet paper and not need it, than vice versa.").
As Remy points out in the introduction, these aren't rules that will be found in the USA Track & Field Competition Rules Book. But novice and veteran runners alike will enjoy his compilation of common sense, received wisdom, and good fun. Enjoy!
Friday, April 16, 2010
Have a Little Faith, by Mitch Albom
Mitch Albom got his start as a sports writer, but he's better known to the general reader as the author of the inspirational books Tuesdays With Morrie and The Five People You Meet in Heaven, both of which were made into TV movies. Have a Little Faith is in the same genre as Tuesdays With Morrie.
Albom grew up in suburban New Jersey, where his family is actively involved in a local synagogue. Since leaving home, Albom has not actively practiced his faith, but the rabbi, Albert Lewis, asked Albom to do his eulogy. That led Albom to spend hours and hours with Lewis over the next several years. As their friendship grows, so does Albom's appreciation for the rabbi he knew as a child but never really knew.
Lewis served this congregation for generations; it's the only placed he ever served. Albom's reports of their time spent together bring out Lewis's wisdom and teaching in such a way that make the reader long to sit at his feet and listen to stories. Their conversations range widely, encompassing questions big and little. As a Jewish man married to a Christian, Albom is especially interested in the question of inter-religious relations. Lewis tells the story of an early episode in his tenure. After an ugly encounter between a priest from the parish next door and one of the synagogue members, the priest (at the insistence of his superior) and Rabbi Lewis walked arm in arm around the parish schoolyard, during recess, in a demonstration of the fact that the two faiths can coexist. Albom asked Lewis, "But what if someone from another faith won't recognize yours? Or wants you dead for it?" Lewis sagely replied, "That is not faith. That is hate."
Lewis always had a ready answer, or at least a question to make the questioner reflect. Full of wit, always singing, and loved by all, Lewis left a deep impression on Albom and everyone with whom he came into contact. Lewis did not hold back when Albom asked him the secret to his happiness: "Be satisfied. Be grateful. For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you. That's it."
During the time Albom was meeting with Lewis, he also met Henry Covington, pastor of Pilgrim Church and director of I am My Brother's Keeper in Detroit. This inner city ministry, a church and homeless outreach, was struggling, poor, and small, but full of faith. Covington's story, though very different from Lewis's, inspired Albom in different ways. Covington had been in and out of prison, immersed in drugs and crime, when he became a Christian and began serving others. Albom initially met Covington to investigate the ministry, to determine whether his foundation would give them a grant. He got to know Covington, visiting him on several occasions and attending services at the church. He eventually wrote a newspaper column about their having the heat turned off because of their failure to pay the gas bill. It didn't help that the roof of the old church had a gaping hole. That little bit of publicity brought interest and money to the ministry, and now the church has a solid roof! (Read about that here.)
Albom's storytelling skill and sensitive portrayals of Lewis and Covington draw the reader into a rare circle of friendship and shared faith. Have a Little Faith reminds us of the treasures that can be found talking with the regular people around us. We might be inspired by the biographies of great leaders or historical figures, but these two clergymen, common men by the standards of history, possess and convey the kind of greatness that really matters, impacting the lives of people around them. There are volumes to be written about our neighbors, the family in the pew behind us in church, the family who runs the dry cleaners I go to, the bus driver who picks up my daughter every day. I know those books will never be written, but Albom reminds me that if I take time to listen, I might hear some stories worth remembering and will likely learn a few things about living life.
Albom grew up in suburban New Jersey, where his family is actively involved in a local synagogue. Since leaving home, Albom has not actively practiced his faith, but the rabbi, Albert Lewis, asked Albom to do his eulogy. That led Albom to spend hours and hours with Lewis over the next several years. As their friendship grows, so does Albom's appreciation for the rabbi he knew as a child but never really knew.
Lewis served this congregation for generations; it's the only placed he ever served. Albom's reports of their time spent together bring out Lewis's wisdom and teaching in such a way that make the reader long to sit at his feet and listen to stories. Their conversations range widely, encompassing questions big and little. As a Jewish man married to a Christian, Albom is especially interested in the question of inter-religious relations. Lewis tells the story of an early episode in his tenure. After an ugly encounter between a priest from the parish next door and one of the synagogue members, the priest (at the insistence of his superior) and Rabbi Lewis walked arm in arm around the parish schoolyard, during recess, in a demonstration of the fact that the two faiths can coexist. Albom asked Lewis, "But what if someone from another faith won't recognize yours? Or wants you dead for it?" Lewis sagely replied, "That is not faith. That is hate."
Lewis always had a ready answer, or at least a question to make the questioner reflect. Full of wit, always singing, and loved by all, Lewis left a deep impression on Albom and everyone with whom he came into contact. Lewis did not hold back when Albom asked him the secret to his happiness: "Be satisfied. Be grateful. For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you. That's it."
During the time Albom was meeting with Lewis, he also met Henry Covington, pastor of Pilgrim Church and director of I am My Brother's Keeper in Detroit. This inner city ministry, a church and homeless outreach, was struggling, poor, and small, but full of faith. Covington's story, though very different from Lewis's, inspired Albom in different ways. Covington had been in and out of prison, immersed in drugs and crime, when he became a Christian and began serving others. Albom initially met Covington to investigate the ministry, to determine whether his foundation would give them a grant. He got to know Covington, visiting him on several occasions and attending services at the church. He eventually wrote a newspaper column about their having the heat turned off because of their failure to pay the gas bill. It didn't help that the roof of the old church had a gaping hole. That little bit of publicity brought interest and money to the ministry, and now the church has a solid roof! (Read about that here.)
Albom's storytelling skill and sensitive portrayals of Lewis and Covington draw the reader into a rare circle of friendship and shared faith. Have a Little Faith reminds us of the treasures that can be found talking with the regular people around us. We might be inspired by the biographies of great leaders or historical figures, but these two clergymen, common men by the standards of history, possess and convey the kind of greatness that really matters, impacting the lives of people around them. There are volumes to be written about our neighbors, the family in the pew behind us in church, the family who runs the dry cleaners I go to, the bus driver who picks up my daughter every day. I know those books will never be written, but Albom reminds me that if I take time to listen, I might hear some stories worth remembering and will likely learn a few things about living life.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sin Bravely, by Mark Ellingsen
The title of Mark Ellingsen's recent book caught my eye: Sin Bravely: A Joyful Alternative to a Purpose-Driven Life. I wondered if this would be a satirical jab at the Rick Warren empire. I figured the author wasn't a Christian, but was a secular comic. Turns out that Ellingsen is real live seminary professor at an actual Christian seminary! And if I remembered my theology a little better, I would have recalled that the title is actually from a quote by Martin Luther. In an oft-quoted letter to Philip Melanchton, Luther argued against the idea that we can achieve purity, to live without sin. "Be a sinner and sin bravely, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more bravely, for He is victorious over sin, death, and the world." Similar quotes and themes can be found in several places in Luther's writings. Neither Luther nor Ellingsen advocate sensual hedonism; both require some fleshing out to clarify what they mean.
Ellingsen does engage Rick Warren, about whom he has a few good things to say. But he demonstrates how Warren's popular teachings and the Prosperity Gospel movement, as exemplified by Joel Osteen, are derived from a Puritanical works theology and feed into the Narcissism of American culture. These movements, in Ellingsen's estimation, boil the Christian life down to, on the one hand, what do I have to do to measure up to God's standards, and on the other hand, how will it benefit me to follow God? It's all about self.
I think he's a little unfair to Warren (I'll let him bash Osteen and the prosperity gospel all he wants). I think my religious programming may be too strong to completely reject Warren's perspective. I was raised in a tradition that was perhaps too moralist and Revivalist, as well as highly individualistic. I heard a lot about right and wrong, and about what I should be doing. The Christian life is about a personal relationship with Christ, I should have a personal quiet time, I need to confess my sins and repent. All of that is true, and Luther and Ellingsen would affirm those statements, but they would say the self-centered, individualistic, moralistic perspective is incomplete. We are sinful creatures and will never live up to the standards set by these kinds of teachings. "Purpose-driven living (as well as the quest for prosperity) is likely to nurture lives of guilt and meaninglessness. . . . The life of brave sinning . . . is a life of grace turned over to God."
Ultimately, brave sinning means a reliance on God's grace rather that on works. We must acknowledge our own sinfulness, and agree that everything we do, no matter how good or well-intentioned is ultimately tainted by our concupiscence, or the selfish human desire tied up in our original sinful nature. Brave sinning, Ellingsen argues, is not "permission 'to do your own thing,'" but "a word of permission to do God's 'thing' joyously and with reckless abandon." Any good that we do is made good by God's grace, since our motives are irrevocably tainted.
Brave sinners don't need to burden themselves with legalism or moralism. A love relationship with God is like a good marriage. In marriage, "all sorts of good, warm, and loving things happen among the partners. . . . No one makes you do those loving things. . . . The relationship does not depend on such deeds; it is based on love." In the same way, brave sinners, in love with God, go through life with a playful attitude, a God-centered awareness that any good they do is because of him. Ellingsen cites extensive neurological research to demonstrate that this kind of God-centered, playful attitude triggers "pleasurable chemicals providing sensations of happiness."
I do like Ellingsen's overall point, drawing us away from a self-centered Christian life to a more God-centered one. But I think he neglects the importance of discipleship, study, and a teaching community. Consider the marriage analogy: first of all, if a couple has never seen a good example of a healthy marriage--their parents fought, divorced, or were never married--the will likely continue unhealthy, unhappy habits as well. Ultimately, people revert to selfishness and have to work against their own self-centeredness in marriage. Those who can't or don't end up divorcing or living in a loveless marriage. In the same way, the Christian can, for a while, say "I will live joyously with reckless abandon in following God!" But that can only last so long before our selfishness steps in. Discipleship, tradition, the examples of other Christian, careful study of the Bible, all guide the Christian in his walk with Christ. Books like The Purpose-Driven Life can play an important role in helping a Christian keep his eyes on Jesus. Of course, it can easily force someone into a self-centered, "What more do I need to be doing?" kind of attitude. But in the context of a Christian community it can be a useful guide.
The bottom line that I took away from Ellingsen's book is that I don't need to beat myself up over not measuring up. I've read The Purpose-Driven Life and many other devotional books. Some have helped me more than others. Most leave me feeling inadequate, with a sense that I can't do enough. That's right--I can't do enough! But I don't need to beat myself up over it! The Christian life is not about what I do or don't do, it's about joyfully living in a love relationship with Jesus. I can move in boldness, knowing that I'm going to sin along the way, but also knowing that God's grace covers me.
Ellingsen does engage Rick Warren, about whom he has a few good things to say. But he demonstrates how Warren's popular teachings and the Prosperity Gospel movement, as exemplified by Joel Osteen, are derived from a Puritanical works theology and feed into the Narcissism of American culture. These movements, in Ellingsen's estimation, boil the Christian life down to, on the one hand, what do I have to do to measure up to God's standards, and on the other hand, how will it benefit me to follow God? It's all about self.
I think he's a little unfair to Warren (I'll let him bash Osteen and the prosperity gospel all he wants). I think my religious programming may be too strong to completely reject Warren's perspective. I was raised in a tradition that was perhaps too moralist and Revivalist, as well as highly individualistic. I heard a lot about right and wrong, and about what I should be doing. The Christian life is about a personal relationship with Christ, I should have a personal quiet time, I need to confess my sins and repent. All of that is true, and Luther and Ellingsen would affirm those statements, but they would say the self-centered, individualistic, moralistic perspective is incomplete. We are sinful creatures and will never live up to the standards set by these kinds of teachings. "Purpose-driven living (as well as the quest for prosperity) is likely to nurture lives of guilt and meaninglessness. . . . The life of brave sinning . . . is a life of grace turned over to God."
Ultimately, brave sinning means a reliance on God's grace rather that on works. We must acknowledge our own sinfulness, and agree that everything we do, no matter how good or well-intentioned is ultimately tainted by our concupiscence, or the selfish human desire tied up in our original sinful nature. Brave sinning, Ellingsen argues, is not "permission 'to do your own thing,'" but "a word of permission to do God's 'thing' joyously and with reckless abandon." Any good that we do is made good by God's grace, since our motives are irrevocably tainted.
Brave sinners don't need to burden themselves with legalism or moralism. A love relationship with God is like a good marriage. In marriage, "all sorts of good, warm, and loving things happen among the partners. . . . No one makes you do those loving things. . . . The relationship does not depend on such deeds; it is based on love." In the same way, brave sinners, in love with God, go through life with a playful attitude, a God-centered awareness that any good they do is because of him. Ellingsen cites extensive neurological research to demonstrate that this kind of God-centered, playful attitude triggers "pleasurable chemicals providing sensations of happiness."
I do like Ellingsen's overall point, drawing us away from a self-centered Christian life to a more God-centered one. But I think he neglects the importance of discipleship, study, and a teaching community. Consider the marriage analogy: first of all, if a couple has never seen a good example of a healthy marriage--their parents fought, divorced, or were never married--the will likely continue unhealthy, unhappy habits as well. Ultimately, people revert to selfishness and have to work against their own self-centeredness in marriage. Those who can't or don't end up divorcing or living in a loveless marriage. In the same way, the Christian can, for a while, say "I will live joyously with reckless abandon in following God!" But that can only last so long before our selfishness steps in. Discipleship, tradition, the examples of other Christian, careful study of the Bible, all guide the Christian in his walk with Christ. Books like The Purpose-Driven Life can play an important role in helping a Christian keep his eyes on Jesus. Of course, it can easily force someone into a self-centered, "What more do I need to be doing?" kind of attitude. But in the context of a Christian community it can be a useful guide.
The bottom line that I took away from Ellingsen's book is that I don't need to beat myself up over not measuring up. I've read The Purpose-Driven Life and many other devotional books. Some have helped me more than others. Most leave me feeling inadequate, with a sense that I can't do enough. That's right--I can't do enough! But I don't need to beat myself up over it! The Christian life is not about what I do or don't do, it's about joyfully living in a love relationship with Jesus. I can move in boldness, knowing that I'm going to sin along the way, but also knowing that God's grace covers me.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Makers and Takers, by Peter Schweizer
Peter Schweizer might sell more books if he didn't put a summary of the whole on the cover. The subtitle gives it all away: Makers and Takers: Why Conservatives Work Harder, Feel Happier, Have Closer Families, Take Fewer Drugs, Give More Generously, Value Honesty More, are Less Materialistic and Envious, Whine Less . . . And Even Hug Their Children More Than Liberals. Whew! That's a mouthful.
So I guess I don't need to spend any time telling you about the book, since, now that you've read the subtitle, you know what it's all about! Schweizer's project here is to debunk popular stereotypes of conservatives. Using demographic studies, opinion polls, and academic studies, as well as a hearty sprinkling of anecdotal evidence, he demonstrates that the picture of conservatives, or red staters, we see portrayed in the press and popular media are not only untrue, but diametrically opposed to reality.
One of the topics he covers really gets my goat: the assumption that liberals care more about the poor than conservatives. Schweizer demonstrates that conservatives consistently give more to aid the poor than do liberals. Many liberal politicians and public figures who set themselves up as defenders of the poor actually give very little of their wealth to help the poor (Hello, Al Gore, John Kerry, Barbra Streisand, Nancy Pelosi). If they do give money away, it's often either to favorite liberal causes, many of which have nothing to do with poverty, or advocacy groups which never give a dime to poor people. Many conservatives on the other hand give generously, whether they're wealthy and prominent or not. In fact, liberals like to deride generosity. Liberals accused Cheney of getting too big a tax deduction when he gave 77% of his income to charity one year. How selfish of him! Liberals seem to equate big government with giving to the poor, so if they promote liberal social ideas, they think they're giving to the poor. I have never, ever heard of a liberal who, promoting higher tax rates to support social programs, voluntarily paid more in taxes than he or she actually owes.
Another canard is the angry conservative. But all you have to do is compare, say, the liberals protesting at a World Trade Organization meeting or on a college campus where a conservative is slated to speak, with conservatives at a Tea Party gathering. Or compare the rants of Michael Moore and Al Gore, or the screaming frenzy of Howard Dean, with the easy-going nature of Ronald Reagan or George W. Bush. Schweizer bolsters his claims with opinion polls and surveys which indicate that conservatives also tend to be more satisfied and content with their income, job, and lifestyle than liberals.
One of Schweizer's overall themes in Makers and Takers is his conclusion that liberalism is appealing because "it is a philosophy of lip service to virtuous ideals that demands little if any action from its adherents." You can say you're for the poor, but charity is replaced by advocacy of government programs. You can say liberals are smarter, claiming liberal ideals yet remaining uninformed. You can denounce the pursuit of wealth while you pursue wealth aggressively.
Makers and Takers is worth a read for any conservative who has gotten tired of the portrayal of conservatives in the press, or anyone, liberal or conservative, who is skeptical of the media's straw man, ad hominen portrayals of conservatives. If Schweizer presented one, or a handful, of the studies or anecdotes in isolation, the reader might be tempted to dismiss his claims. But the breadth and depth of his research and examples is so comprehensive that even the most hard-core liberal, if he's honest, will have to stop and think.
So I guess I don't need to spend any time telling you about the book, since, now that you've read the subtitle, you know what it's all about! Schweizer's project here is to debunk popular stereotypes of conservatives. Using demographic studies, opinion polls, and academic studies, as well as a hearty sprinkling of anecdotal evidence, he demonstrates that the picture of conservatives, or red staters, we see portrayed in the press and popular media are not only untrue, but diametrically opposed to reality.
One of the topics he covers really gets my goat: the assumption that liberals care more about the poor than conservatives. Schweizer demonstrates that conservatives consistently give more to aid the poor than do liberals. Many liberal politicians and public figures who set themselves up as defenders of the poor actually give very little of their wealth to help the poor (Hello, Al Gore, John Kerry, Barbra Streisand, Nancy Pelosi). If they do give money away, it's often either to favorite liberal causes, many of which have nothing to do with poverty, or advocacy groups which never give a dime to poor people. Many conservatives on the other hand give generously, whether they're wealthy and prominent or not. In fact, liberals like to deride generosity. Liberals accused Cheney of getting too big a tax deduction when he gave 77% of his income to charity one year. How selfish of him! Liberals seem to equate big government with giving to the poor, so if they promote liberal social ideas, they think they're giving to the poor. I have never, ever heard of a liberal who, promoting higher tax rates to support social programs, voluntarily paid more in taxes than he or she actually owes.
Another canard is the angry conservative. But all you have to do is compare, say, the liberals protesting at a World Trade Organization meeting or on a college campus where a conservative is slated to speak, with conservatives at a Tea Party gathering. Or compare the rants of Michael Moore and Al Gore, or the screaming frenzy of Howard Dean, with the easy-going nature of Ronald Reagan or George W. Bush. Schweizer bolsters his claims with opinion polls and surveys which indicate that conservatives also tend to be more satisfied and content with their income, job, and lifestyle than liberals.
One of Schweizer's overall themes in Makers and Takers is his conclusion that liberalism is appealing because "it is a philosophy of lip service to virtuous ideals that demands little if any action from its adherents." You can say you're for the poor, but charity is replaced by advocacy of government programs. You can say liberals are smarter, claiming liberal ideals yet remaining uninformed. You can denounce the pursuit of wealth while you pursue wealth aggressively.
Makers and Takers is worth a read for any conservative who has gotten tired of the portrayal of conservatives in the press, or anyone, liberal or conservative, who is skeptical of the media's straw man, ad hominen portrayals of conservatives. If Schweizer presented one, or a handful, of the studies or anecdotes in isolation, the reader might be tempted to dismiss his claims. But the breadth and depth of his research and examples is so comprehensive that even the most hard-core liberal, if he's honest, will have to stop and think.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Golf's Sacred Journey: Seven Days at the Links of Utopia
The last golf book I read was The Downhill Lie: A Hacker's Return to a Ruinous Sport by Carl Hiaasen. Hiaasen, one of my favorite writers, writes hilarious mystery novels. The Downhill Lie is a funny book about his golfing, but in the end it's a book about golf which is hard for a non-golfer like me to really enjoy.
So when my father-in-law gave me a book about golf to read, I thought, there's no way I'll like this. I don't mind a day on the golf course, but it's not a game I get very excited about, and certainly not a sport I want to read about. But Golf's Sacred Journey is really a book about life; it just so happens that the main character's life is all about golf.
A professional golfer, who is actually never named in the book, has a breakdown on the golf course during a tournament in which he was favored to do well. Despondent and despairing of his future in golf, he wanders into the town of Utopia, where he providentially meets Johnny, a former golf pro who has retired to a quite country life. Johnny, a Yoda-like teacher, takes the young golfer under his wing and spends a week completely reshaping the way he thinks about the game of golf.
The largest part of the book is golf instruction. I know nothing about golf techniques, but, for the young golfer in the book, it seems like the techniques Johnny teaches are nothing short of revolutionary. I do know I've never seen anyone putt face-on, like Johnny teaches.
If the non-golfing reader can get past all the golf theory and instruction, Johnny spends their last day together sharing the gospel with the young golfer. It's a strange sharing of the gospel, though. Johnny pulls out his Bible, tells the story of Peter's big catch of fish after following Jesus' instructions, then talks about putting Jesus in charge. He has the golfer write down lies he's believed about golf and life and bury them in a grave Johnny prepared. If I were not a Christian, I am not sure I would understand the gospel after reading this. It makes following Jesus seem like a path to self-actualization rather than presenting our sinfulness and Jesus' redemptive work on the cross.
That is not to say Golf's Sacred Journey is not an evangelistic tool. It is, explicitly so. The book has spread like a virus. On the author's web site, you can order the book in bulk. I know he wouldn't sell them in bundles of 100 if no one was buying them! I can picture people buying dozens of copies and handing them out to their golfing buddies. I have no doubt that many men will come to know Jesus or follow him more closely as a result of reading this book.
For more on the book, the movie in the making, and the related evangelistic/discipleship tools and programs, go to http://www.linksofutopia.com/cms/
So when my father-in-law gave me a book about golf to read, I thought, there's no way I'll like this. I don't mind a day on the golf course, but it's not a game I get very excited about, and certainly not a sport I want to read about. But Golf's Sacred Journey is really a book about life; it just so happens that the main character's life is all about golf.
A professional golfer, who is actually never named in the book, has a breakdown on the golf course during a tournament in which he was favored to do well. Despondent and despairing of his future in golf, he wanders into the town of Utopia, where he providentially meets Johnny, a former golf pro who has retired to a quite country life. Johnny, a Yoda-like teacher, takes the young golfer under his wing and spends a week completely reshaping the way he thinks about the game of golf.
The largest part of the book is golf instruction. I know nothing about golf techniques, but, for the young golfer in the book, it seems like the techniques Johnny teaches are nothing short of revolutionary. I do know I've never seen anyone putt face-on, like Johnny teaches.
If the non-golfing reader can get past all the golf theory and instruction, Johnny spends their last day together sharing the gospel with the young golfer. It's a strange sharing of the gospel, though. Johnny pulls out his Bible, tells the story of Peter's big catch of fish after following Jesus' instructions, then talks about putting Jesus in charge. He has the golfer write down lies he's believed about golf and life and bury them in a grave Johnny prepared. If I were not a Christian, I am not sure I would understand the gospel after reading this. It makes following Jesus seem like a path to self-actualization rather than presenting our sinfulness and Jesus' redemptive work on the cross.
That is not to say Golf's Sacred Journey is not an evangelistic tool. It is, explicitly so. The book has spread like a virus. On the author's web site, you can order the book in bulk. I know he wouldn't sell them in bundles of 100 if no one was buying them! I can picture people buying dozens of copies and handing them out to their golfing buddies. I have no doubt that many men will come to know Jesus or follow him more closely as a result of reading this book.
For more on the book, the movie in the making, and the related evangelistic/discipleship tools and programs, go to http://www.linksofutopia.com/cms/
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Price of Loyalty, by Ron Suskind
After reading Michelle Malkin's Culture of Corruption, I decided I ought to read something from the other side of the fence. (As if Anne Lamott's anti-conservatism wasn't enough.) The Price of Loyalty: George W. Bush, the White House, and the Education of Paul O'Neill isn't completely anti-Bush, but for a former Bush cabinet member, it's not exactly a glowing appraisal of Bush's leadership.
Paul O'Neill had worked in Washington before, but had been about to retire from Alcoa after several years as CEO when the Bush team called on him to be Secretary of the Treasury. O'Neill did not know Bush, but he and Cheney were old friends. He had also worked with Greenspan and Rumsfeld in earlier administrations.
Throughout The Price of Loyalty, Suskind sets up O'Neill as the brilliant idea man, who has the answers to the nations problems, while Bush is the clueless idealogue, who doggedly sticks by his policy positions even at the peril of the nation. For instance, in discussions about tax cuts, O'Neill and Greenspan came up with the idea of creating triggers that would put conditional caps or sunset provisions on the cut proposals. Bush said, "I won't negotiate with myself. . . . it's a closed issue." Campaign promises trump changing economic reality. "The President made it clear that this was not about analysis. It was about tactics."
This theme repeats itself throughout, whether on domestic economic issues, the environment, foreign policy, or the War on Terror. According to Suskind's account, O'Neill was driven by a pure desire to solve problems and work for the good of the country. He was not alone. Christine Todd Whitman, John DiIulio, and Colin Powell were in the same boat. DiIulio was the first senior official to leave; he called the political arm of Bush's team, led by Karl Rove, the "Mayberry Machiavellis." He publicly decried the lack of "meaningful, substantive policy discussions" among senior staff. O'Neill seems to feel the same way, viewing Bush senior staff as uninformed political hacks with an eye on the polls and a deaf ear for alternative views.
This is an interesting insider's story about the Bush administration. I couldn't help wondering if O'Neill was blinded by his perception of his own moral and intellectual superiority. His uncomplimentary descriptions of Bush and Bush's circle surely didn't win him any friends, but as he told Suskind when they discussed doing the book together, "I'm an old guy, and I'm rich. And there's nothing they can do to hurt me." He thinks he's taking the high ground, but still comes across as someone with an axe to grind.
Paul O'Neill had worked in Washington before, but had been about to retire from Alcoa after several years as CEO when the Bush team called on him to be Secretary of the Treasury. O'Neill did not know Bush, but he and Cheney were old friends. He had also worked with Greenspan and Rumsfeld in earlier administrations.
Throughout The Price of Loyalty, Suskind sets up O'Neill as the brilliant idea man, who has the answers to the nations problems, while Bush is the clueless idealogue, who doggedly sticks by his policy positions even at the peril of the nation. For instance, in discussions about tax cuts, O'Neill and Greenspan came up with the idea of creating triggers that would put conditional caps or sunset provisions on the cut proposals. Bush said, "I won't negotiate with myself. . . . it's a closed issue." Campaign promises trump changing economic reality. "The President made it clear that this was not about analysis. It was about tactics."
This theme repeats itself throughout, whether on domestic economic issues, the environment, foreign policy, or the War on Terror. According to Suskind's account, O'Neill was driven by a pure desire to solve problems and work for the good of the country. He was not alone. Christine Todd Whitman, John DiIulio, and Colin Powell were in the same boat. DiIulio was the first senior official to leave; he called the political arm of Bush's team, led by Karl Rove, the "Mayberry Machiavellis." He publicly decried the lack of "meaningful, substantive policy discussions" among senior staff. O'Neill seems to feel the same way, viewing Bush senior staff as uninformed political hacks with an eye on the polls and a deaf ear for alternative views.
This is an interesting insider's story about the Bush administration. I couldn't help wondering if O'Neill was blinded by his perception of his own moral and intellectual superiority. His uncomplimentary descriptions of Bush and Bush's circle surely didn't win him any friends, but as he told Suskind when they discussed doing the book together, "I'm an old guy, and I'm rich. And there's nothing they can do to hurt me." He thinks he's taking the high ground, but still comes across as someone with an axe to grind.
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