Fathers and Reading

"Perhaps the greatest gift any father can bestow upon his children, apart from the covenant blessings of parish life and a comprehension of the doctrines of grace, is a passion for reading. It is cheap, it consoles, it distracts, it excites, it gives a knowledge of the world, and it offers experience of a wide kind. Indeed, it is nothing less than a moral illumination."

I stole this Thomas Chalmers quote from one of J. Ligon Duncan's posts at the Together for the Gospel blog. I could not possibly agree more, considering that I am a product of a father who has passed along his passion for reading. As far as the "blessings of parish life" and the "doctrines of grace" he has not only passed these along as well, but he has often done so in the form of a book recommendation. As for reading being cheap, I think I could take issue with that! If I could get back the money I've spent between Borders and the Covenant Seminary bookstore, I don't think I'd have to worry about my tuition for next fall.

This quote has made me stop and think about how exactly my father passed on this love for reading. I know how he didn't: he didn't continually lecture me on how I should read and how it would be good for me. No, I can think of two specific ways in which he has taught me that reading is is one of the greatest joys in life, as well as being beneficial:

First of all, he has taught me by his own example. Despite working a demanding job which leaves him physically and mentally drained, my Dad always sets aside time to read. If he is not sleeping, he can usually be found with a Bible and two or three other books under his arm. His stacks of books are scattered around the house (a continual source of aggravation for my mom) and magically, a new one seems to appear every payday at least.

Second, and probably most important, he read to me as a child. I can remember the anticipation of waiting for him to come home from work so that my brother and sister and I could find out if Bilbo Baggins would make it to the next stage of his journey in The Hobbit. We would read through entire Hardy Boys novels over the course of a couple nights (these exciting mysteries, while extremely cheesy, were made that much more intriguing by the fact that my sister wasn't allowed to listen - guys only). By setting aside these times devoted purely to the enjoyment of a good story, my Dad created in us an anticipation of all the wonderful things to be found in books. Reading was never made something that simply should or had to be done, but rather, something to be looked forward to, something to spend every spare moment engaged in.

When I think back on all the time that my Dad (and my Mom for that matter - probably even more so on her part now that I think about it) spent reading aloud to us when he could have been doing any number of other things, I can't help but look forward to the day when I can read to my own children. Hopefully I too can demonstrate for them the vast knowledge, perspective, and comfort that can be found only in the written word. Not only will developing this love be good for them, but it will also provide me with an excuse for spending far too much money on books than I should.

Jesus Loves Karl Barth

A reporter once asked Dr. Barth if he could summarize what he had said in his lengthy Church Dogmatics. Dr. Barth thought for a moment and then said: "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so."

Perhaps the most amazing statement of all time. There is so much communicated in these few words, and yet they are some of the first learned by children growing up in the church. How astounding is it that the man who did more than anyone else to shape the study of theology in the twentieth century can sum up the complexities of his life's work in this simple phrase that is earnestly sung by so many Sunday school students?

The Good News which has saved our lives is all the more astonishing for the fact that this simple confession is as relevant to the eighty year old as to the eight year old. Yet, I'm sure that for some this is little more than a trite phrase, worn out form years of repetition. As we grow and mature in Christ, the wonder and the mystery behind these words should not decrease, but only grow. As children, we know that we are singing about someone wonderful, someone who has done something great. As we begin to mature, we realize just what it was that was done on our behalf. We are not simply singing about someone who is nice to us and shows great affection towards us. Rather, we are as we grow in Christ, we are given a greater understanding or our sin and rebellion towards God. From this, we realize that to say "Jesus loves me," is far different from saying, "My Mother loves me," or "My friend loves me." To say "Jesus loves me," is to say that the eternal God who we have displayed blatant hatred towards, has acted on our behalf in the person of Christ to reconcile us to the Father and to save us from eternal punishment.

When we say that "The Bible tells me so," we are confessing that not only has Jesus acted on our behalf in this way, but that he has revealed these saving acts in literary form. He has not only saved us, but he has provided us with a collection of books to instruct us in who he is, how he has saved us, and how he will shape us to look like him. We are not left in any doubt over what Jesus has done for us, but are given historic testimonies to saving power of Christ throughout all of history. So, if ever you find yourself at a loss words when you go to pray, or if you feel that you have nothing to thank and praise God for, simply remember that Jesus loves you, for the Bible tells you so.

Experiencing the Welsh Revival

Is it necessary for the experiential and the objective aspects of Christian faith to be opposed to one another? It seems so often that those who are most fervent for a direct encounter with God that excites the emotions and moves us to devotion are those that take no stand on or have little understanding of doctrine and its implications. Similarly, it can often appear that the most strictly orthodox believers have little grasp on the importance of experiencing the power of the Holy Spirit. Does it have to be this way?

Thankfully not. I have seen few better examples of what it means to have an experiential encounter with God that is based firmly on objective work of Christ than in William Williams' little book, The Experience Meeting. Williams was a hymn writer, poet, and leader of the Welsh revival of the 18th century. He became an authority on how to organize and conduct the "experience meetings" that came from Methodist style spiritual societies (though Methodist in style, the doctrinal foundation of these believers was thoroughly Calvinistic). As Dr. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones says in his introduction, these societies were most concerned with providing, "a fellowship in which the new spiritual life and experience of the people could be safeguarded and developed," and placed a great emphasis "on experience, and the experimental knowledge of God and His love and His ways." When expressing the affect that these meetings have on those who regularly attended, Williams said this:

[Their growth can be seen in] their growing awareness of their need of a Mediator. This poor view of themselves mentioned above has made Christ, and all that pertains to Him, very precious - His righteousness, His sufferings, His power and His wisdom. These people, today, want to look to, to think of, to study nothing but the mercy, the bounty and the gentleness of the Messiah; the suffering on Calvary's hill is what they sing about. This is the subject of their talk and of their study; and they never look inwards (into themselves) except in order to compel themselves to lean more on Christ and to believe more on Him.

As Williams goes on in the book to discuss the specifics of how the experience meeting should be conducted and what should take place, it is wonderful to see how he lays out the joining of a clear and biblical knowledge of the work of Christ with the warmth and excitement that an encounter with God always provokes. Williams never even raises the question of whether the two things can or should be separated from one another. Rather, he takes for granted that a true experiential encounter with naturally flows from a revelation of God as revealed in Christ. May we all enjoy the wonder of shared experiences in God as we see more clearly the depths of our own sin and the unthinkable provision of Christ's righteousness on our behalf.

Christopher Hitchens on Education

"The measure of an education is that you acquire some idea of the extent of your ignorance."

Truer words, I'm sure, have never been spoken. It's a bit disturbing to think that I'm halfway through earning a degree in philosophy, and yet I'm not exactly the authority the subject that I thought I'd be. Rather far from it as a matter of fact. It seems that for every concept that I grasp, there are a thousand more that I can barely get my head around; for every thinker that I become acquainted with, there are countless more that I become aware of, yet know virtually nothing about. It seems that most of us are under the impression that upon entering the university, we are embarking on a four year process that will somehow download into our brain all the relevant information from our chosen area of study. Sure, we might not be quite as advanced in our understanding of the minutia of the more specialized areas of our field as someone with a PhD, but we're still sort of "mini-experts" right? Unless something drastic occurs in my next to years of study, I'm afraid I'll have to say that this is a radically mistaken impression of the undergraduate experience. The idea that there is some checklist of raw data that we will be able to spout off in the context of a conversation or debate by the time that we receive our diploma is not exactly the reality.

Mr. Hitchens' (who, by the way, is the subject of a great article in the most recent World magazine) statement may seem a little pessimistic to some. One generally thinks that any sort of an education should work towards doing away with ignorance. Undoubtedly, this would be true if a real education did in fact consist of the acquisition of a specified amount of information. But as I've said, this is not true to experience. Far from pessimism, Hitchens' observation has helped me to redefine what I hope to get out of my time as an undergrad. I am not as worried as I once was that might not be able to pontificate at length about each of the major stages in the development of philosophical thought, thus doing away with all ignorance on the subject. Given that this would be an impossible task, it appears that Mr. Hitchens is right. A real education does not consist of the eradication of ignorance (as if that were possible) but rather of an exposure to knowledge that opens our eyes to a vast realm of information and ideas that we didn't know existed. Seen from this perspective, and education is not something that is achieved in the duration of the four years following high school. Rather, it seems that a formal education is something that should equip us with the tools and desire to explore the vast, unsearched reaches of our own ignorance. Hopefully our formal education will provide us with a basis from which to continue the ongoing process of a true education as we continue to find out what else it is that we are ignorant of.

One final thought on Christopher Hitchens himself: I find Mr. Hitchens to be one of the most interesting and stimulating public figures I can think of. His ability to comment in an insightful and clearheaded way on widely varying subjects, such as literature, politics, history, foreign policy, and much else, is extremely enjoyable. I would only note that I wish he would display the same sort of insight when discussing the subject of God and religion. As a self proclaimed "anti-theist" Hitchens believes, as he comments in the World article, that the concept of God "was completely invented by very underdeveloped human beings." It seems that Hitch might want to heed some of his own advice and be a little bit more aware of the extent of his own ignorance when it comes to the subject of religion.