…outside of Scripture itself.
Subjective? Perhaps. After all, I am a pastor and this directly addresses my “trade”.
Unfounded exaggeration? Not exactly.
As one called by God in heaven, I am part of the universal Church (capital “C”). However, as a believer called to live out my faith on earth as a member of a local church (lowercase “c”), I can’t think of anything more significant for life in the body of Christ than what’s contained in these pages.
In short: It’s practical without being pragmatic. It’s provocative without being abrasive. It’s firm without being overbearing.
In particular focus is how the Gospel and God’s character confront and shape conventional views of church membership, notions of love and authority, and Christian community. I’ve had two months to work through it and mull over it and it is on that basis I can say it’s the most important book I’ve read, excepting the Bible.
Buy it. Read it. Talk to me about it. I’d love to know what you think!
1) If in the last week, I’ve appeared to look at you condescendingly or stare you down with my small, not-so-beady eyes, it’s because my right eye keeps twitching and I’m trying to compensate for it. If you’ve seen this look from me prior to this past week, then you probably said or did something foolish.
2) I registered for Goodreads this past weekend and have begun perusing through the virtual shelves of others. Books are our friends and other people’s books offer opportunities to make more friends. Register and add me. By the way, if you’ve borrowed a book from me, I want it back. Now.
3) A lot of people are getting married and engaged. This is good because it shows that my friends are normal.
4) As my buddy Daniel Su would say, Philippians and Hebrews are “crazy”. I’ve been stirred up quite a bit to love the Savior more as a result of our times through these books on Sundays and weekdays. I am very thankful for all the reminders of God’s grace to me in Christ.
5) 24 needs to end. This season has been deplorable, save for one fairly unexpected twist in this week’s episode. Bauer Hour should be so much better than this.
Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman: Written over 20 years ago, it might be labelled “ancient” by contemporary standards, but that only serves to reinforce the book’s basic premise. It’s actually quite easy to argue that in the digital age of cellphones, Facebook, Youtube, texting, and instant messaging, Postman is actually more relevant today. College students especially need to begin considering how their constant exposure to the overload of tech-based communication is severely impairing their abilities to think, reason, articulate, and sustain attention required to form and expound a coherent worldview. At least to think about it long enough to get through this book (and this list for that matter!).
Disciplines of a Godly Man by R. Kent Hughes: Particularly in the crucial formative years of student life, collegians need to lay a foundation of discipline that will reap immense rewards for the years following their graduations. The typical college student’s lifestyle cannot be maintained for long before negative ramifications follow in virtually every area of life. Disciplines such as consistent Bible intake and steady, faithful prayer, should be cultivated with an aim toward godliness. Note: There are plenty of other good books that talk about spiritual disciplines (e.g., Don Whitney’s Spiritual Disciplines of the Christian Life; Jerry Bridges’ Disciplines of Grace).
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis: A classic and must-read for every Christian. But specifically for college students who should learn how to respond to the many unbelievers they’re likely to encounter during their education (1Pet. 3:15). Though the packaging changes with time, the questions aimed at believers have always been the same. It’s true that there have been more recent good books written on apologetics by the likes of Tim Keller and Ravi Zacharias but it’s my humble opinion that Lewis stands alone in his wit and insight. G.K. Chesterton and Blaise Pascal are also close kindred spirits to Lewis that I’ve found helpful.
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions by Thomas Kuhn: First exposed to this book in a Philosophy of Science course recommended by a friend far smarter than me, this isn’t the easiest bit of reading. However, those brave enough to tackle the book will be rewarded. Science rules on the college campus. It’s unquestioned, incontrovertible, and without challenger in its authority. Naturalism is every thinking man’s religion, so the intellectual pundits say. Kuhn contests the supposed “natural” progression of scientific knowledge, arguing that less “scientific” factors such as money and society have bigger roles to play than our objective empiricism would like to believe.
Stop Dating the Church by Joshua Harris: Collegians need this badly. And not just those who are endlessly church-hopping but even for those who have signed up as members of particular congregations but whose active participation in church life is still oftentimes found wanting.
“The gospel is therefore not just the ABC’s of the Christian life, but the A to Z of the Christian life. Our problems arise largely because we don’t continually return to the gospel to work it in and live it out. That is why Martin Luther wrote, ‘The truth of the Gospel is the principle article of all Christian doctrine…Most necessary is it that we know this article well, teach it to others, and beat it into their heads continually’” (Tim Keller, Prodigal God)
I recently finished reading through Evening in the Palace of Reason (J.R. Gaines), a portrayal of an 18th-century encounter between Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, and Johann Sebastian Bach, the composer of the Baroque era. Apart from their individual greatness and their love for musical ingenuity, these men couldn’t have been farther apart.
Bach was a product of his theological upbringing. He believed that he was created to communicate the glory of God and that music was his divinely-suited means of doing so. In fact, he inscribed all his works with the acronym, S.D.G. (Soli Deo Gloria). He knew of very few other expressive mediums that could adequately convey celestial majesty.
Frederick, on the other hand, was a son of the Enlightenment. He was representative of an age ordered by cold logic and reason. There was no room for mystical sensibility in his world. All of nature’s supposed enigmas were easily decipherable by the categorically trustworthy lens of reason.
These conflicting ideologies made for differing musical tastes. As much as he considered himself a musician, Frederick was of the persuasion that music was only meant to entertain–to sound pleasing to the ears. Bach had higher goals in mind. As Gaines explains:
Bach’s Musical Offering leaves us, among other things, a compelling case for the following proposition: that a world without a sense of the transcendent and mysterious, a universe ultimately discoverable through reason alone, can only be a barren place; and that the music sounding forth from such a world might be very pretty, but it can never be beautiful.
There is an analogy to be drawn here for students of the theological enterprise (i.e., Christians). When we engage in theology, we examine Scripture and analyze its propositions. We classify our biblical observations into defined categories and attempt to draw discernible lines of continuity through comprehensive examination of God’s Word. And we ought to. God gave us the Scriptures to disclose truth about Himself and to illuminate our minds to a greater understanding of the universe and our place within it.
But there’s an important lesson to be learned from Bach. Bach was hardly a slouch rationally. His prolific compositions of the contrapuntal technique (think the musical equivalent of quantum-physics) demonstrated his unprecedented logical genius. But through it all, he knew he could never fully capture God’s transcendent glory.
Christian believers today are as much products of our culture as Bach and Frederick were of theirs. Today is an age where empirical observation and the scientific method reign. We naturally apply those same scientific methodologies to Scripture in our attempts to make sense of God. Just a cursory glance at commentaries and dogmatic volumes alone yields amazing proof to how far our God-given intellectual capacities have taken us in the realms of biblical and systematic theology. But the sheer utility of our rationality can breed a baseless confidence in reason. If we’re not careful, we will cease from struggling to articulate the nature and beauty of God, and capitulate to an unhealthy scholasticism. We will ignore that there always be mystery involved in our study of God and attempt to force God through our unbending paradigms of reason and logic.
The Reformers traditionally talked about the clear distinction between Creator and creation. And theologians today speak of the doctrine of God’s incomprehensibility: Though God can be understood in part, He will never be understood exhaustively. Knowing our natural limits places appropriate parameters in our theological endeavors. And as Christians, we would be well-served to remember the example of Bach: there is beauty in mystery.
Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? It is higher than heaven—what can you do? Deeper than Sheol—what can you know? Its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea. (Job 11:7-9)
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. (Psalm 147:5)
As far as the Gaines book is concerned, it reads a bit like pop-history, which is not a demeaning description of its literary worthiness. It’s only my way of saying that the writer makes history stimulating and interesting to read. I wholeheartedly recommend the book for those who love music and for anyone else intrigued by the book’s premise.
I received an e-mail this morning from Anthony Locke, asking about the best way to mark up his Bible. The first thing that came to mind is a story P. Peter Chung told me when a Jewish Christian visited our seminary. He was explaining some of the differences between Jewish believers and us Gentile folk. One humorous thing he mentioned was that Christians tend to treat our Bibles like coloring books! We aren’t afraid to mark all over them, spilling highlighter ink liberally, and jotting down whatever pops to our minds when we’re reading through the Word. I don’t think he said this to discourage the practice, only to draw a contrast between that and the typically “clean” look of a Bible carried by a Jewish believer.
I don’t actually mark my current Bible. I’ve grown accustomed to marking down my observations and thoughts in a handy Moleskine Cahier (I know, an overpriced indulgence). Either way, interacting with any text through physical markings, be it a Bible or a book, is a helpful way to think over, process, and reflect on the information that you are absorbing.
So if you’re in the habit of marking your Bible or plan to start, I’d advise the following:
1) Try not to underline unless it’s a specific verse that is particularly meaningful. Why? Because you’re going to find that every verse is meaningful (after all, we’re talking about the divine, Spirit-breathed, Word of God) and pretty soon your whole Bible will be underlined! In other words, be selective in underlining.
2) This is related to the first, but bracket verses and sections that are unified by one single thought. This is a lot more efficient than underlining 7-10 different lines of text. For example, Malachi 2:10-16 is a single unit of thought, whereas v.17 introduces what follows in chapter 3 in the next unit of thought. I would put a little mark on the top, left-hand corner of the v.10 and then a little mark on the bottom, right-hand corner of v.16. This way you can break up the flow of a narrative, epistle, or psalm and understand its structure and organization with minimal markings on your Bible. This is also helpful because the chapter and verse divisions of the Bible do not typically correspond with the actual breaks and structure of whatever you’re reading (these reference notations were inserted at a later point in history and are not Spirit-inspired).
3) If you’re secure enough in your manhood (women need not worry here) and don’t mind carrying the extra baggage, use different color pens. Coordinate different colors for different purposes or ideas. For example, you may want to use a blue pen to mark devotional-type passages that have been especially meaningful to you. You might want to use a red pen to mark verses that you might use for apologetics-related discussions (e.g., John 1:1, 14; Col. 1:15-20 as verses that defend the deity of Christ), and a green pen to mark verses that cover a particularly meaningful theme (e.g., God’s patience; prayer; etc.). Again, colors and topics are customizable. You can keep a handy index of the colors and their corresponding categories in the front or back of your Bible. And in light of advice #1, I’d circle the verse numbers rather than underlining the entire thing.
4) Get a journaling Bible if you want to record more extensive thoughts down. Most Bibles don’t provide enough space in the margins to jot down anything more than a word or a short phrase. Journaling Bibles provide more space for lengthier exposition and reflection. Also, they typically come stocked with thicker paper to prevent bleed-through. Or if you’re an overachiever and really want to go for the extra mile, make a “blank Bible” (inspired by Jonathan Edwards). I actually made one of these before with a friend but I never ended up using it. I was simply too terrified of messing up because it took so much effort to make. I ended up just giving it away.
5) Don’t use a normal pen or highlighter. Invest in a Bible highlighter or marker to compensate for the typically razor-thin pages that most Bibles are made with.
Anyways, those are my two cents. Many of the same principles can be adopted for most other kinds of books. If you have further suggestions, I’d welcome your insight in the comments!
Strangely enough (call it coincidence or divine timing), I find when I’m going through a number of books around the same time, some basic themes emerge through my collective readings. Books that are at best, only indirectly related, speak forth in distinct voices and then come together in harmony to complement one another, reinforcing many of the same motifs.
Two books I’m reading now: the book of Job (God) and Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl (N.D. Wilson). The tune that has formed through their duet: God’s total sovereignty in the face of evil/suffering.
Reading through Job has increased my wonder for the mystery of God’s infinite wisdom. His decrees from eternity past, unfold into a grand tapestry that we observe but don’t always fully fathom. As Job and his three friends offer their feeble takes on how to make sense of evil and suffering, God asks Job a question near the end of the book:
Will you even put me in the wrong? Will you condemn me that you may be in the right? (40:8)
In other words, will Job get trigger-happy in seeking self-vindication in his sufferings, even at the costly expense of making God the bad guy?
Most have learned from poor Job’s example and bypass the demonizing of God in accounting for evil/suffering, preferring instead the more palatable option of removing God’s absolute sovereignty and making evil an accident beyond divine reach (cf., Open Theism).
Wilson’s book elaborates:
In For the Time Being, Annie Dillard attempts to keep God around and keep Him nice (if weepy). And so she (like many others) scraps omnipotence. “The very least likely things for which God might be responsible are what insurers call ‘acts of God.’”
Go that route. Katrina wasn’t Him. Nothing involving fault lines is Him. Stop looking at Him like that–He’s never so much as touched a tornado. He exists, and He’s friendly, but if you’re in some kind of trouble, you might just want to make a deal with the devil. Go to the man in charge, I always say. You can renege later, and you might get really good at the guitar in the meantime.
You gotta love the satire.
So if throwing God in the defendant’s chair isn’t wise, and removing God’s total sovereign control is exposed for the folly that it is, then what is the appropriate response when caught beneath the torrent of personal suffering and trials? Again, we return to the book of Job:
Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further…I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. (40:4-5; 42:3)
A laugh out loud moment while reading through Kevin DeYoung’s new book on decision-making and the will of God, entitled, Just Do Something. While speaking about the importance of personal accountability in the decisions we make as Christians, DeYoung brings up a common example of where the “will of God” is used as a scapegoat in deflecting personal responsibility:
I’ll never forget my poor beleaguered roommate talking with me after he took a risk and told a nice young lady that he liked her. They went on a long walk. He was pretty sure she would reciprocate his declaration of affection. But it turned out she wasn’t interested. She was a sweet girl, a good Christian. She didn’t mean to have bad theology. But instead of just saying, ‘I’m not interested’ or ‘I don’t like you’ or ‘Quit stalking me’ or something, she went all spiritual on him. ‘I’ve been praying a lot about you,’ she demurred, ‘and the Holy Spirit told me no.’ ‘No?’ my confused roommate asked. ‘No…never,’ she replied.
Poor guy–he got rejected, not only by this sweet girl, but by the Holy Spirit. The third person of the Trinity took a break from pointing people to Jesus to tell this girl not to date my roommate. I didn’t know that was in the Spirit’s job description. But I bet at any Christian school there are scores of men and women blaming God for their breakups.
So true. I knew a brother some time ago who had been interested in getting to know a girl better in a dating context. Finally working up enough courage to reveal his true feelings, the young lady told him that he’d have to wait while she, “prayed about it.”
I told him to tell her, “I already did and God said, ‘Yes.’”
Eventually, we’ll just learn to be more up front and direct when making our decisions. Of course, that isn’t to say that prayer and godly counsel aren’t vital parts of making decisions. In fact, quite the opposite. But I have a feeling that we’re just making it more complicated than it needs to be.
I appreciated DeYoung’s treatment of the topic of God’s will and decision-making. The full title of the book is, Just Do Something: A Liberating Approach to Finding God’s Will or How to Make a Decision Without Dreams, Visions, Fleeces, Impressions, Open Doors, Random Bible Verses, Casting Lots, Liver Shivers, Writing in the Sky, Etc. As you can probably note from the extended title, the book attempts to circumvent the ambiguity involved in knowing God’s will for our lives with helpful suggestions on how to go about discovering it (it’s more straightforward than you probably think). For those who have read John MacArthur’s pamphlet, “Found: God’s Will,” it’s similar in content with the added wit and humor that is typical of DeYoung, making not only informative, but a pleasant read as well. I thoroughly recommend it.
