Reading

“…whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.” -Philippians 4:8

Liz Brabson, a Tennessee middle school teacher, recently lamented the decline of the literary aspect of our modern American culture in an editorial in the News-Sentinel (1-12-08). Quoting a study by the National Endowment for the Arts, she mourned the fact that less than one-third of American 13-year-olds are daily readers. While this is admittedly sad, I suspect that the daily reading habits of adults in this country sag even below that. The decline of the printed word is well documented as we watch the number of daily newspapers steadily shrink with some questioning their future existence all together. While some are simply switching to on-line sources of news and stimulation, ours is becoming an increasingly oral and visual culture. Attention spans have shrunk drastically (watch an old movie and try not get impatient with the pace) and our vocabularies have withered to Reader’s Digest standards (6th grade?).

As an indicator of where we are today compared to over 100 years ago, try picking up and giving “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” a quick read. Here was a penny novelette, written by Robert Louis Stevenson in 1886, designed and destined for the pop-fiction rack at the local train station and newsstand. It quickly was selling out edition after edition at a shilling a copy in the everyday marketplace. I daresay most of us with college educations would struggle with Stevenson’s wide-ranging language (‘amities’-‘distained’- ‘troglodytic’) let alone be patient enough to follow his in-depth ponderings of human nature that comes close to the book of Romans in profundity. No publisher would touch it in today’s action-saturated and word-challenged culture.

For those of you who have read the letters of even the simple and uneducated persons of the 1800’s, one can scarce escape notice of the grace and eloquence that so often typifies their language. There was a simple beauty there which echoed the stylish long-hand script with which they wrote. Contrast that to the newly evolving language of text messaging and its butchered spelling, and one can easily work up a case of despair and despondency.

Yet Ms. Brabson’s complaint also lashed out against Christians who would keep books such as the newly controversial “The Golden Compass” from their children’s hands. She claimed that it would be irresponsible for anyone to discourage reading of any kind (‘within reason,’ she adds, but whose?). How easily does reading become an end in itself which is demonstrated again and again by the garish and provocative offerings of our school and public libraries. Our literary elite have come to justify most any fare if it will “get them to read.” Following this mantra, we find horror novels and the occult promoted in our public school libraries along with such uplifting periodicals such as Rolling Stone, GQ, and Cosmopolitan dealing every sex secret known to man into the hands of curious teens.

We forget so easily that our forefathers came to this land and quickly started schools and colleges teaching their children to read for one over-arching, Protestant obsession: that each person would be able to read the Bible for themselves and direct their lives accordingly. There lies the rub of cultural slippage. It is so easy to divorce good Christian values from their Christian base, and then the mischief begins. C.S. Lewis writes repeatedly of motherly compassion as a very damaging force when taken to extreme and not constrained by other equally important truths and values. Communism is essentially a Christian heresy where concern for the poor and downtrodden morphed into the most bloody and destructive movement of the 20th century.

The object and end view which Ms. Brabson and others so easily overlook is that reading is a skill that enables us to more efficiently and easily search for wisdom. Reading is a means to an end and not an end in itself. The Bible says it quite simply, “Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom.” Yes, searching and questioning are good tools in the toolbox which periodically involves examining even opposing points of view. Yet, we are the adults. If we have any sense at all as to what constitutes true wisdom, any notion whatsoever of truth as distinguished from error, of good being distanced from evil, we would be most foolish and most horribly negligent not to pass that skill along as well as the skills of reading and questioning. We are the keepers of our children’s souls and minds. From us they will get their first inclinations as to what is the true and the beautiful.

“The Golden Compass” is a no-brainer. While I will not forbid it, I choose to believe its author’s open intent and declare it not worth the reading. There are too many other good books out there that it would be a foolish waste of time to purposely steer my children down that detour. And that is what the Catholic League and other groups are simply doing: alerting us to the dead-end destination of Philip Pullman. Wisdom is essentially a matter of discernment. I want my children to be discerning, discriminating consumers in the welter of the public square: a place where the coarse, the false, and the evil are offered up in quantities far surpassing the good, the true, and the beautiful. Discernment is an ability to be taught and demonstrated by parents first of all, followed by librarians, teachers, schools, and all the gate-keepers of society. It is a shame that so many have abandoned their posts or stand so compromised by moral ambiguity and intellectual relativism that they can no longer tell the difference between the sheep and the wolves. Or they are silenced by a paralyzing fear of disrupting our cultural ease with a simple cry of alarm.

All said and done, if I have to use the Sport’s Illustrated swimsuit edition in order to interest my son, or yours, in reading, something is already dreadfully wrong. I have my limits, and surely Ms. Brabson has hers as well. She would be well served by being less churlish with those who draw the line further back than she.

Revival 2

Here is the latest and greatest. It represents a departure from the norm as I engage one of our readers in a dialogue regarding the last issue. I received some feed-back last week from my friend Dr. Jesse --, a professor of music at Malone College, who prays and weeps regularly for revival. I thought his heart-felt fervor worth printing:

All that you write about how we as individuals affect the world around us is true, but I still think that a small impact is, nevertheless, still small and that we should be VERY uneasy about the impact question. But I don't think the answer lies in cleverly devised human programs. What would happen in our communities if even 2 or 3 believers met regularly, fasting, on their knees, desperate before God, openly saying, "Lord, we see so little impact, so few hungry for You. Is there nothing in us that makes them want to 'taste and see?' Does my flesh obscure your Spirit in me to such an extent that I am not reflecting your image? Lord, we hear about thousands getting saved every day in Uganda. Why not here? Lord, make us desperate. Wake us up. Draw others to join us in seeking you. We can't manufacture anything on our own. We need your Wind to blow life into these dry bones." I believe we are in a time when the only "programs" we need are intense, corporate worship and tearful intercession. Nothing polite, nothing dignified. Nothing running on a strict schedule. At church and in our homes, on our knees, weeping, noses running, a no-holds-barred, "I don't care who hears me" cry for mercy for ourselves and for our neighborhoods. Revival is not the end goal here, it is but step two. (Step one is to realize we are dying on the vine, a refusal to live in the town of Status Quo any longer.) Revival is God's Intensive Care for patients whose spiritual breath can hardly fog a mirror, and I fear that is a pretty accurate description of most churches and church members, including myself. How can we expect to impact our communities when we're as sick and poor and needy as the unsaved? Revival is God mercifully bringing the spiritual and emotional healing we can not possibly bring about ourselves. Like the defibrillator paddles, revival is a jump start to get our heart beating again. What we want is transformation; transformation of communities, schools, churches, commerce, and government, where in our towns the works of Christ are more evident than the works of the Enemy.

Mr. Moe responds:
Thanks for the response. You are, of course, admirably right in wanting more than just the average, the good, and, surely, just the mediocre impact on the world in which we live: a self-satisfied, sophisticated, prosperous, society that is super-saturated with entertainments at every hand (unlike Uganda). We pray, or should be praying, for the eruptions of Pentecost to once again break forth in our midst. Yet, in the meantime, we must not despair, because to remove the salt-of-the-earth people we rub shoulders with every day from this present society would surely bring chaos and collapse of unimaginable proportions. So, there are two truths here. We both inform and sustain society to a level of humanity and justice we presently see (which we should not underestimate and for which we should be thankful). But then we live with the knowledge that, in many ways, we could be doing that a whole lot better if we could only purify ourselves to live a more Christ-like life (What would happen if all Christians suddenly stopped doing commerce on Sunday? Or voted?). And, like you mention so clearly, we have no idea what effect we could have if we were to don some appropriate form of sack cloth and ashes in repentance for our communities. But the Spirit blows where it will, and we can do little to command it. Revival comes sometimes in the midst of chaos and seeming defeat and other times when good people seek it eagerly. I hope I can be a balanced servant who prays for revival on one hand and with the other reaches out for my lunch box and goes to work in the full faith and knowledge that simple faith and obedience goes a long way in steadying the societal ship.

Responses and dialogue welcome
How selfish of me to not invite and welcome a “letter to the editor” response from all faithful readers to Mercy and Truth. I hope this will inspire others to respond. No such response will be printed without your final permission. Address all inquiries, rebuttals, praise, and hate-mail to the comments section.

Here are some final tidbits from the Jesse – Moe exchange:

Mr. Moe writes: Many folks seem to stand at the brink of despair and doubt when faced with the question of what difference they are making in the world. When it is a plague of doubt and depression from the evil one, it is a bad thing. When that is a holy dissatisfaction with the status quo coming from the Holy Spirit, it is a good thing. We need to speak to both. I talked to the first last week. You are talking to the second.

Jesse responds: Thank you for reminding me of sack cloth. I should have had "heart-rending repentance" at the top of my list of "programs." To obey is better than sacrifice. No, in the meantime we must not despair, but we MUST become desperate for godly change, desperate enough to turn off the TV and gather our Christian friends to meet regularly to intercede for our city, with the understanding we will not let up until transformation is evident.

Savings and Loan

“As for the saints that are in the earth, they are the majestic ones in whom is all my delight.” –Ps.16:3NASV

I was privileged to participate in a very heartfelt discussion last week about the effectiveness of my church. We were several men given the gift of time to reflect upon who we were and where we were going. The question was raised with pointed effect, “Are we impacting our community where we live?” There was a considerable portion of skepticism attached to that inquiry for the life of our church was not attended by waves of the unsaved coming down the aisles or by an overflowing parking lot full of visitors trying to find a slot. Life is fairly routine on any Sunday morning or Wednesday night and attendees are predictable and typically stolid in outward appearance. It was not too difficult to understand the gravity of the question at hand. We all stumbled in attempting to answer the question and were tempted to come to all sorts of conclusions of where the fault and failure lay. Such introspection invariably leads to doubt and restlessness as we see little that is “majestic” in ourselves.

I slept uneasily turning over the question through the night. Then it came to me. Yes, we did impact our community, and I became more convinced of that with each new thought. Every time the hand-bell choir stepped up to ring a witness of truth and beauty into my soul, every time a soloist would sing God’s praise with sincerity and passion, every time the choir would hit a home run to a chorus of amens, and every time the pastor would make my spirit fly on wings of the eternal Word; all these things helped keep this poor boy on the straight and narrow for another week. That, in itself, was no small accomplishment. I am to be the salt of my community and my church is keenly doing its duty in attempting to keep that saltiness alive and well. I thought of a fellow member, Anthony, who pauses every morning in the parking lot of the paint store where he works. He stops to read the Word and pray and then proceeds to enter that store, armed and dangerous, a man who takes no prisoners when given a chance to speak for his Lord. Yes, we impact our community. I think of my friend, Jim, walking the halls of his work-place, a nursing home, where he is an amazing embodiment of our Lord in ministering to the old and feeble of our world. I have seen him talking softly with genuine care in his voice as he clips fingernails and lifts spirits. Yes, we touch the weak and worn of our community. I see young couples raising Godly children who respect authority and have eager eyes and hearts to learn truth wherever they find it. Then they spill them out into our community where they are eagerly received by beleaguered teachers and despondent employers. Yes, we are touching our world for good.

No, it is not flashy or headline-grabbing nor are folks lining up to take seminars to learn the secret of our success. It is the kind of thing pounded out in a life of daily living, routine righteousness, and habitual compassion. But it is that which builds nations and makes them strong. It is easy to despair of our churches with all their warts, our marriages and families with all their problems and quirks, and even our school with all its faults. But when we do, we need to stop and look at them from the other end of the telescope and see their power and beauty, giving thanks for the work of the Holy Spirit who brings forth growth through even the most humble of human agencies when it seeks to follow in the Lord’s steps.

And if we haven’t already, we need to pull out “It’s a Wonderful Life” and watch it one more time. We all struggle with our own “crummy old Savings and Loan” resentments against those institutions in our lives which appear drab, ordinary, and possessing. May we catch a glimpse of what God is doing through them, through us, over time, in quiet and wonderful ways we find hard to recognize or comprehend.