1611 Bestseller

As I was reminded by an article in Baylor Magazine, this year we celebrate the 400th anniversary of the publication of the King James Bible.  It's hard to overestimate the impact that the King James Bible had and continues to have on the English language, Western culture, and the church.  (Plus, as my Uncle David discovered, some distant relative of ours was on the translation committee!  But I don't get a discount on Bibles.)

I have also been reminded multiple times recently that I have not been spending time in the word.  If you never saw this post, which shows a tribe getting the Bible in their language for the first time, check it out.  I can only imagine the thrill of hearing God's word for the first time in a way I could understand, whether I had only heard it in Latin or Greek, or maybe never in a language I could understand.  What a privilege to have such easy access to the Bible in many forms!

So to celebrate the quadricentennial and to try to revive my own love of God's word, I bought myself a KJV Bible.  I had one at one time, but I think I gave it away years ago.  I considered buying a cool edition that reproduces the original printing, but I figured I'd get tired of the antiquated letters, like using a v instead of u,or I instead of J. I just got a modern printing instead.

So my plan is to read the KJV all the way through over the next several months.  I'm using a reading plan I've used before (this one); I like it because it's a one year plan but it's undated, so you can start whenever and wherever you like. Maybe I'll post some gleanings from my reading from time to time.  Or not.

Primal: A Quest for the Lost Soul of Christianity, by Mark Batterson

First of all, let me say that I was pleased that Primal is not the book I thought it was going to be.  It is not an attempt to find some kind of pure expression of Christian worship, faith, and practice, seeking to replicate the first century church today.  Those sorts of efforts tend toward cultural ignorance and folly.  Batterson does long for a sort of early church purity; the book was at least in part inspired by a visit to the catacombs  of a church in Rome.  Batterson wants to be sure modern Christians are able to see beneath the "bells and steeples . . . creeds and canons . . . pews and pulpits, hymnals and organs, committees and liturgies" that have come to be a part of the Christian experience, to remind us of what is most basic about Christianity.

It's pretty simple.  The church is "not great at the Great Commandment.  In too many instances, we're not even good at it."  He sets out his recovery plan with four big ideas:

The heart of Christianity is primal compassion.

The soul of Christianity is primal wonder.

The mind of Christianity is primal curiosity.

And the strength of Christianity is primal energy.

Taking each of these things, he offers a couple of chapters each to flesh out the ideas.

I can't be 100% sure, but I have little doubt that this book started as a sermon series at his church.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, but the end result feels a little cobbled together.  Much of the exposition feels like filler; he came up with the basic ideas, then had to stretch them out for Sunday sermons.  And his preacher's habit of pulling in random scientific factoids to illustrate his points got a little annoying.

However, one important measure of a book like this is, Did he accomplish what he set out to do?  I would say the answer is yes.  By the time I got to the end, my level of inspiration had moved up a few notches.  I didn't read all of the discussion questions at the end, but they definitely provide good fodder for reflection.  Ultimately Batterson wants to see a new reformation.  Whereas Luther's Reformation was a reformation of creeds, marked by the rallying cry Sola fide (faith alone), the new Reformation should be marked by deeds of compassion, wonder, curiosity, and energy, with the rallying cry Amo Dei (love God).

Thanks to WaterbrookMultnomah for providing this free copy for review!

Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand

OK, there's just no way I can sufficiently treat one of the twentieth century's greatest (and longest!) novels in the usual space of a Reading Glutton review.  So I'll just give some highlights and personal thoughts.  But you wouldn't expect anything more of a shallow book consumer like me, would you?

I first read Atlas Shrugged in 1987, just after I graduated from high school.  (Thanks, Chelli, for turning me on to Rand!)  I still have that paperback, and have read it a couple of times since then, but not in years.  With the movie coming out (still haven't seen it) I thought I'd revisit it.  I have to admit, I did it the lazy way: I got the CDs from the library.  (In case you're wondering, it's 45 CDs, 50-something hours, I think.)

I had forgotten what a great read this is.  Yes, it's long--my edition, a trade paperback, is 1084 pages of teeny tiny print--but Rand does not write fluff.  Her descriptions are memorable, the dialogue is tight, and the story line moves briskly.  One criticism often made is that the speeches are too long.  She does have a few long expository passages, where the characters flesh out their ideas, but they're all naturally part of the story and do not detract.  The one exception is John Galt's major radio speech late in the book.  It goes on for 57 pages in my edition.  On CD it's 3 hours.  In the book, they refer to it as a 2 hour speech.  In any case it's long, and one certainly has to suspend disbelief to think the whole nation would listen to the entire speech, much less take it all to heart.  Maybe I'm too jaded by our media saturation; in the days of radio, I guess it's possible.  I could just see a modern audience tuning out within 5 minutes to see what's on ESPN.

As great a novelist as Rand was, she is more remembered for her ideas.  She unabashedly promoted the virtue of selfishness, especially from the perspective of business.  I am a Christian, and I know that we are to follow Christ's example of selflessness, but I do not believe Rand's conception of selfishness conflicts with the Christian life.  Business is all about serving the needs of others; a businessman who does not do so finds himself out of business.  Adam Smith captured this idea in his line: "It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, that we can expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest."

One of Rand's heroes, Hank Rearden, made a similar point at a speech when he was put on trial for violating the restrictions placed on industry by the government.

I work for nothing but my own profit--which I make by selling a product they need to men who are willing and able to buy it.  I do not produce it for their benefit at the expense of mine, and they do not buy it for my benefit at the expense of theirs; I do not sacrifice my interests to them nor do they sacrifice theirs to me; we deal as equals by mutual consent to mutual advantage--and I am proud of every penny I own.  I made my money by my own effort, in free exchange and through the voluntary consent of every man I dealt with. . . . I refuse to apologize for my ability--I refuse to apologize for my success--I refuse to apologize for my money. . . . I could say to you that I have done more good for my fellow men than you can ever hope to accomplish--but I will not say it, because I do not seek the good of others as a sanction for my right to exist.

The villains in Atlas Shrugged (not to mention the current administration) never seem to get the point that by making money, a good businessman does vastly greater good for society and his fellow man than he ever can by giving money away.

Speaking of the current administration, Wesley Mouch's description of the John Galt Plan (which had nothing to do with Galt's ideas, he simply attempted to conscript Galt's name into government service) sounds suspiciously like something Barack Obama would say.  As you read this, please picture BO and his Teleprompter:

The John Galt Plan will reconcile all conflicts.  It will protect the property of the rich and give a greater share to the poor.  It will cut down the burden of your taxes and provide you with more government benefits.  It will lower prices and raise wages.  It will give more freedom to the individual and strengthen the bonds of collective obligations.  It will combine the efficiency of free enterprise with the generosity of a planned economy.

This is the kind of doublespeak I have come to expect from Washington.  Sometimes it seems Washington is taking its cues from Atlas Shrugged.  Rand talks about the "aristocracy of pull," which rewards the well-connected at the cost of successful enterprises.  What other explanation is there behind the bank bailouts?  Washington rewarded failure by bailing out the failed banks, costing the economy and the country, and penalizing successful banks.  I am in awe of the idiocy of our federal government's economic policies, but they would not have surprised Rand at all.

In many ways, Rand was an offensive figure, and she was certainly no friend of the Christian faith.  But I long to have someone like her making sense of the world today.  If you have never read Atlas Shrugged, you owe it to yourself to take a look.

Fed Up!: Our Fight to Save America from Washington, by Rick Perry

Will he run for president?  Sure looks like it.  Can he win?  I don't know.  Many people outside of Texas will see him as Bush 2 (or Bush 3, depending on how you view Bush 2's presidency as a sequel to Bush 1's).  Personally, I'd rather see the other Texan presidential hopeful, Ron Paul, in the White House.

In spite of people's perception, Perry's book Fed Up demonstrates Perry's differences with Bush.  Granted, they're not black and white, but Bush is more Washington than Austin.  Perry differs with Bush on several points where Bush tends toward federal government solutions.  His book is a clarion call to Americans to pay close attention to that crucial tenth amendment to the U.S. Constitution, so often ignored or forgotten by Washington:

The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

Perry's not just a states' rights zealot; he argues that a great strength of this amendment is the ability for states to serve as laboratories of public policy.  Why not try things 50 different ways?  The best policies will be noticed by the other states and imitated and adapted for their particular state's needs, a much more efficient means of shaping policy.  Witness the huge bureaucracies that have been created in response to Obamacare, when we have no idea how health care will look on a nation-wide basis?

Whether or not he decides to run, and whether he not he can win the nomination, much less the presidency, I hope Perry's message of less regulation, lower taxes, and less control over our lives and communities by the federal government will continue to find a hearing in the halls of power.  But I'm not holding my breath.

Do Hard Things, by Alex and Brett Harris

I don't have a teenager yet--but I will in about 14 months!  Scary!  So this book written by teens, for teens struck a chord with me.  These young men, twin brothers Alex and Brett Harris, offer up a challenge to teens to join their "rebellion against low expectations."  With stories about their own endeavors, as well as many of their peers, they inspire kids to dream big and not be satisfied with our society's tendency to write off the teen years as a waste.  I was reminded of Mark Twain's parenting advice: when your kids turn 13 put them in a barrel and feed them through a knot hole--then, when they turn 16, plug up the hole!

The Harrises give reason for hope and provide practical advice and clear steps for kids wanting to have an impact on their world.  They have presented "Do Hard Things" conferences around the world, and maintain a web site with useful resources and forums: http://www.therebelution.com/.  I must admit, even as a middle-aged parent, they challenged me to stretch myself (not to mention chiding me for my self-centered, wasted teen years. . . .).

By the way, I picked up the audio book at the library, and didn't realize until I was into it that Alex and Brett's brother is Josh Harris, the pastor and author whose Dug Down Deep I just read!   This is a remarkable family whose successes speak well of home-schooling!

The Daughter's Walk, by Jane Kirkpatrick

I have been taken in by tales of cross-country races, like the "Bunion Derby" of 1928 (I reviewed C.C. Pyle's Amazing Foot Race here.) and the more recent Trans American foot race (I reviewed David Horton's A Quest for Adventure here.)  More recently, I followed Jeff Rudisill's walk across America (here).  So I was interested to hear about Helga and Clara Estby's walk across America in 1896. 

Think about coast-to-coast travel at that time: transcontinental railroad tracks had been completed less than 30 years before.  But Helga Estby boldly accepted a wager from sponsors in the clothing industry to walk from their home in Spokane, Washington to New York.  If they complete the walk in the allotted time, they would be awarded $10,000.  That money would have saved their farm from foreclosure and helped their struggling family. 

Jane Kirkpatrick, an accomplished writer of historical fiction, pieced together the limited historical record of their walk and creates an epic story of the Estby family.  The account of the walk itself fills only about a quarter of the book.  Most of the book deals with the impact on the family, specifically Clara's life after the walk.  Two of Helga's children died while they were on the journey, so the grief-stricken, controlling patriarch forbade the rest of the family from even mentioning "the walk."  Helga and her daughter Clara, then 19, had kept detailed accounts of the walk, but the family destroyed those records.  This family rift bothered me.  Talk about holding grudges: twenty years later, Clara was still ostracized from her family. 

Helga and Clara sporting the racy, scandalous outfits.

Kirkpatrick paints a detailed picture of life at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th, especially from the women's perspective.  The walk itself promoted the "reform skirt" which showed the ankles (actually, the ankle high boots or stockings; bare ankles would have been too racy) and did not have a corset.  That alone caused some scandal; women walking unescorted added to it.  Their biggest supporters were suffragists; remember, at this time women could not vote.  The suffrage movement was in full swing, but it would be another 20 years before women were granted the vote.  Excluded from family life, Clara set out on her own, making a living in the fur industry, buying and selling real estate, and farming.  As an independent woman, she was an anomaly, but seems to have found success in spite of her unusual path.

I enjoyed the realistic, informative historical setting of The Daughter's Walk, and loved the account of the walk itself.  The women's audacity in undertaking it, their resourcefulness and perseverance in completing it, and their boldness, speaking out for women, made for a great story.  But after that, with the family drama and  Clara's subsequent life and business ventures, the story either withered, or became a women's book.  I didn't enjoy the rest of the book as much; I don't think I was the target audience.

I am curious to know how much Kirkpatrick embellished the story, given the lack of historical record and the nature of Clara's story itself.  There is a non-fiction account of their walk, Bold Spirit: Helga Estby's Forgotten Walk Across Victorian America, by Linda Lawrence Hunt.  Hunt also maintains a web site, http://www.boldspiritacrossamerica.com/index.html.  Also, in what must be a strange twist of publishing, Clara's great niece, Carole Estby Dagg, published her own fictionalization of Clara's life, The Year We Were Famous.  Dagg's book was released within a day of Kirkpatrick's.  Dagg also maintains a web site, http://www.caroleestbydagg.com/index.html. 

The Other Jesus, by Greg Garrett

Reading Greg Garrett's The Other Jesus: Rejecting a Religion of Fear for the God of Love back-to-back with Josh Harris's Dug Down Deep: Building Your Life on Truths That Last (my review here) made for an interesting contrast.  Harris falls broadly into the conservative Evangelical camp; Garrett has Evangelical roots, but has morphed into a more ecumenical Episcopal Christian.  Both books cover major topics of systematic theology in a personal, lay-oriented way.  I have to say my personal theology lines up closer to Harris's than Garrett, but Garrett does have some good contributions.

I have never met Greg Garrett, but have been aware of his career for some time, as he is a popular English professor at Baylor, my alma mater.  I knew I'd find some common ground with Garrett, but from that common ground we have taken divergent paths.

Garrett writes in the tradition of Christians who have found their denominational roots too limiting, legalistic, exclusive, close-minded, and/or stifling.  The problem with Garrett and other writers of his ilk is that they over-generalize the "other" Christians, creating a straw man church, and they oversimplify their own theological expressions, resulting in a nebulous, rootless theology.

He starts off by offending me and all but a few hundred Christians in Waco, by saying that in Waco "you might indeed set foot in a dozen extremely conservative Southern Baptist churches before finding a Baptist church that imagines people on a quest to work alongside God in the healing of creation," then goes on to name three churches that pass muster for him, churches where "you could begin a spiritual journey that would be meaningful and lifelong and not revolve purely around your answering an altar call to claim your salvation once and for all."

This sets the tone for the book: most Christians and most churches, especially those of more conservative persuasions, are myopic and insular.  Most American Christians exemplify "a shortsighted focus on individual salvation, a disengagement from the world, a fear or hatred of those who differ from them."  I know there are plenty of Christians out there who obsess over end-times, and who think that praying the sinner's prayer is all there is to the Christian life, but in my experience, including my experiences in a number of terrific Waco churches, that is not the norm.

Garrett rightly calls Christians to be more engaged with the world and more open to learning from traditions other than their own, even non-Christian traditions.  But I think he goes too far in his criticisms and in his rejection of theologically conservative Christianity.  One major point, related to his subtitle about "a religion of fear," is the exclusivity of the Christian faith.  Garrett explicitly states that he is not a universalist, one who believes all will be saved.  Yet he seems to embrace an "all roads lead to God" theology.  Yes, we can learn from the teachings and practices of other faiths, but, other world religions to the contrary, Christianity teaches that Jesus is the only way to God.  That may be expressed in a variety of ways, but Garrett moves toward rejecting that basic theological truth.

Garrett has a problem with Christians who do believe with absolute certainty that Jesus is the only way to God.  "Absolute certainty leads people to fly planes into buildings, . . . to launch wars, [and is] a sign that religion has become evil."  Obviously, there are historical examples of this, even among Christians.  But my experience has been that for the most part Christian groups who do believe in the exclusivity of salvation through Jesus Christ respond not with demonization and a desire for extermination, but with compassion and evangelization.  Again, there are plenty of historical examples to the contrary, but they are notable because they are outside the norm, not because they are the norm.

I did enjoy The Other Jesus.  I appreciate a challenge to think more deeply about my faith, to stretch my ideas about the Christian life, and, most of all, to have a humility about my faith.  One of the joys life in heaven will be laughing with other believers about how wrong I was about them, perhaps how wrong they were about me, and how little we really knew what we thought we knew.

I wish Garrett had better experiences in his early years as a Christian, and am happy that he has found renewed faith in his current role.  But I wish he could see more value in the churches of his youth.  Maybe they are not as contemplative as they should be, maybe they are too emotionally driven, maybe they are too easily led, maybe they have a hard time with a global perspective.  These may be valid criticisms, but they seem to be more tied to style, education, and intellectual elitism, not to genuine questions of faith.