Home » Notes to Self (Random Thoughts)

Category: Notes to Self (Random Thoughts)

Giddy, Frustrated and Humbled at the Bookstore

My wife and I have anniversary traditions. We go out to eat at a decent restaurant. We recite happy memories equaling the amount of years we’ve been married. We go to a bookstore. At the bookstore, we go our separate ways in order for each of us to pick out a book for the other. She picks out a book for me, inscribes it with a special note, and presents it to me. I do the same for her.

As we drive to the bookstore I am in anticipation. It is unlike any other trip to the bookstore for the calendar year. It is like Christmas all over again, but better in some ways, because I not only get a book, but I get one with a neat little note in it from my wife. Years later I will look at those books with those special notes in them and feel all warm and sentimental and loved and affirmed. And I get to pick out something for her, which is fun and challenging; she’s a picky reader for the most part.

Why do I tell that story? For two reason. First, because it was today, and so it’s still on my mind. And second, because this was a rather difficult time (in a first world sense) at the B&N. And the difficulty made me think of a favorite quote I’ve never shared on the blog.

The store was packed. It was hard to look at anything without getting bumped into or being made to feel uncomfortable by someone standing or sitting nearby. I had a guy actually sigh at me because I knelt down in front of his chair, which was in the middle of an aisle, to look at a bookshelf that he was semi-blocking.

I knew what book I wanted to get for my wife. That was half the battle. I look it up on their computer and find the location. That’s two-thirds of the battle. I go to the shelf where it is located and find that two women are hugging right in front of the spot where the book is. But that’s not all. One of the women is nearly uncontrollably (she’s maybe semi-controlled) bawling as she buries her head in the other woman’s shoulder. What to do…

I don’t want to intrude. I don’t want to be nosy. It’s slightly, okay more than slightly, awkward. So I just wait. And wait. And wait. (At a safe distance of course). I walk laps around the store as I try to avoid my wife, whom I am not supposed to see because it would ruin the surprise if she’s holding the book she has picked out for me. And I walk more laps. About 30 minutes worth. They’re not budging from that one spot, and I don’t want to interfere with whatever type of therapy session is taking place. I don’t want to look at books, because then I would just end up spending more money than I planned. So I walk on. I can always use a little cardio.

I am not really frustrated, but I am growing impatient. I am thinking of Chesterton’s line, ‘An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered and an inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.’ It helps.

Alas, I finally get the book. On the way home, my wife and I are discussing the pros and cons of shopping in bookstores. I think of an old quote I had underlined in a book by Jerry Seinfeld:

[A bookstore is] a ‘smarter than you’ store. And that’s why people are intimidated – because to walk into a bookstore, you have to admit there’s something you don’t know.

And the worst part is you don’t even know where it is. You go in the bookstore and you have to ask people, ‘Where is this? Where is that? Not only do I lack knowledge, I don’t even know where to get it.’ So just to walk into a bookstore you’re admitting to the world, ‘I’m not too bright.’

-Jerry Seinfeld, SeinLanguage, p. 3

Bookstores can be frustrating. Bookstores can be magical. But above all, bookstores should make us humble. (I am not sure how Amazon figures into this).

So, next time you walk into a bookstore, try to think of it as an act of humility.

Become like Children…Not Like Teenagers

  • Matthew 18:3 and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 ¶ “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, 6 but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

Reading some reviews of a relatively new book on the ‘juvenilization’ of the church got me to thinking. Such ‘juvenilzation’ involves the pop-izing (going pop, okay?) of music, holy (as in holes in them) jeans in church, spikey hair, fauxhawks; edgy, entertainment-driven messages, etc, etc, ad nauseum. This youth-driven form of Christianity, some say, is responsible for a resurgence of, and injection of life into, many churches in the United States. It has its drawbacks, and it has its positives – or so say the reviews of the book.

I simply submit the reminder that Jesus says ‘unless you become as children,’ not ‘unless you become as teenagers‘ (I suppose you could insert college student or celebrity in the place of teenager and the line of thought would work just as well).

One of my favorite Chesterton quotes from Orthodoxy is:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

The child says, ‘Do it again!’ The teenager says, ‘let’s do something new.’ The little one isn’t particularly concerned with being hip. He wants to eat, laugh, play, love, and be loved.

The childlike qualities of awe, wonder, dependence, humility, and the love of the simple and monotonous are sound aspirations. The teenager’s (pardon my generalization)  gravitation toward faddishness, insecurity, self-analysis, and the need to be, and participate in, ‘the cool,’ are not sound aspirations, but flaws worth avoiding.

Childlikeness doesn’t mean needing more entertainment. It means being able to be entertained by the same things over and over again. Childlikeness doesn’t mean constantly searching for the next cool and flashy thing, it means that the simplest thing can be cool and flashy so long as it is in the near vicinity. A little child can say the Lord’s Prayer or the Apostle’s Creed over and over again and be just as excited as if it were the first time (I know this from experience with my own kids).

Us grownups act like we want to become teenagers, but the truth is that even teenagers themselves must become as little children. Don’t cause a little one to stumble by making them want to be a teenager, even if that little one is a grownup, or a teenager.

Making Your Decision the Right Decision

I’m not a ‘motivational speaker.’ I don’t like modern fortune-cookie-like proverbial sayings. I tend to think they smack of moralism. But every once in a while I will come across a good one.

Recently, I listened to a talk by Peyton Manning on ‘leadership’ (HERE). This is a statement I have heard him say several times over the past year and I think it is worth sharing. He says that during his decision-making process as an NFL free agent last year he kept this idea before him:

“Be determined to make your decision the right decision.”

This idea means that, while you certainly want to make the ‘right decision’ initially, the more important element in decision making is that you be ready to do the work necessary, after the fact, to make the initial decision turn out right. Decisions are not so much right at the actual moment of the decision. Their rightness (or wrongness) will be shown by how the effects of the decision play out. And much of that playing out is in your own hands.

Three texts from biblical wisdom literature come to mind:

  • Psalm 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.
  • Proverbs 3:5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. 6 In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
  • Proverbs 16:3 Commit your work to the LORD, and your plans will be established.

St. Augustine famously wrote, ‘Love God and do as you please.’ Each of these texts, and the words of Augustine, demonstrate something about the the action of God as is it relates to our choices. The principle that I have found helpful is this: Trust in God beforehand, delight in him beforehand. If you are trusting in him, if you are in submission to his Word, if you are in communion with him, then you do not have to wring your hands wondering what his will is. Make a decision, commit it to God in prayer, and be determined to do your part to make it the right decision.

What if you’re proven wrong? For a quarterback, the wrong decision may lead to throwing an interception, getting smeared by a massive linebacker, or losing a game (perhaps a big game). From there, Manning’s advice is that you ‘get back to 0 (zero).’ You cannot dwell on it morbidly. Your bad decision can have an impact on those around you. They can be catastrophic. The question, then, is whether or not you will work even harder to make your next decision turn out right, or will you let the failure of the past become and idol continually lording over you threatening you with the fires of bad-decision-making hell. This leads to nothing but paralysis. It may be paralysis by analysis, but it is paralysis nonetheless.

As cliched as the idea may be for Christians, the gospel of Jesus Christ declares not only the possibility of second chances, but the fact of second chances. But ‘chances’ is not really the right phrase. You are not on probation. This is not the covenant of works. You are not-guilty in God’s court. Your choices may come to haunt you. They may hurt you and those around you. But rather than this leading to a downward spiral of bad-choices, it should be all the more ammunition for future diligence.

A resilient man is a dangerous man. See the resurrection of Christ.

But, the fact of the matter is, we are not resilient in ourselves. When we are crushed, we tend to, well, stay crushed. When we die we decompose. This is why it ultimately cannot depend upon you. A man outside of Christ can move forward after a bad decision by saying ‘oh well’ or ‘screw it,’ and that’s about all he can do. In Christ, you can own up to sins and mistakes, warts and all, because you believe in a resurrected Savior. You believe in a God who brings life out of death. At present, death remains, but, to paraphrase C.S. Lewis, the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor of its demise.

Christ was resilient for us, and so we will be. Now be what you are in him.

Guess what I did Today – I Met a Man who Came Back from the Dead

On this blog I generally stick to writing about things I’m reading at any given time. But something happened today I wanted to record. I work at a drug store, and I was helping a man find something he needed and then checking him out at the cash register. He then, with no provocation, says, ‘Have you ever met someone who came back from the dead?’

I checked myself, many thoughts going through my mind at once, and the first thing that came to mind was the resurrection of Christ. But I didn’t go there. I bit. I said, ‘No, I haven’t.’

He then responded, ‘Well you’re looking at one’ as he stuck out his hand for a handshake.

From there, I shook his hand and replied, ‘Congratulations, you are a blessed man.’

He then made his intentions clear: ‘Let me tell you,’ he said, ‘it’s better to meet Jesus on your knees than on an operating table.’

I was all ears at this point. I have never had someone randomly try to evangelize me before. And with that being the case, I was excited that someone was about to. Let me summarize what followed in the conversation, which was actually, basically, a monologue (by him).

He went on to tell me how he had had a major medical situation that made his heart stop working. He was dead for 27 minutes as emergency personnel worked on him, brought him back, and performed life-saving surgery. But here comes the rub.

He had gone to heaven and talked with Jesus, and Jesus told him that he was sending him back to be a witness – and that’s what he was doing – witnessing.

All right then, I’m thinking, what is he going to witness to?

‘I can tell you what Jesus looks like, what he sounds like, what he IS like,’ he said.

I couldn’t keep quiet at this point. ‘I know Jesus Christ,’ I replied. I’m quoting verbatim here:  ‘And I know a big book, with 27 little books, that tell me what he’s like.’

He then looked at me with a blank stare. Silence and awkwardness ensued for about 5 seconds as we paused. ‘You know, the New Testament?’ I said.

‘Oh,’ he responded, ‘but I saw him, I heard him, I can tell you what he sounds like, what he looks like,’ repeating himself.

I didn’t say it, though I told a fellow Christian who witnessed this whole conversation, but the thing I wanted to say was, ‘Did he speak Aramaic? You know that was his actual human language, right?’

That would have been too smug. I don’t doubt that Jesus can speak fluent English. But I certainly had the thought. I also thought of asking him if Jesus looked like he did in the paintings – pasty pale, girly. I wouldn’t have said it, but that didn’t matter, he wasn’t letting me get in a word at this point regardless.

He ended his presentation by telling me that if we met again he would tell me the ‘Ten Blessings of Jesus’ that were announced to him in his heavenly vision. He only had time to tell me one. It had to do with money. And sure enough a random person whom he didn’t know volunteered to pay on his mortgage shortly thereafter, fulfilling the blessing.

Finally, he summarized his talk – don’t meet Jesus on an operating table, meet him on your knees.

I thanked him, and he went his way.

My co-workers, all of them, know of my love for Jesus. And several gathered around to witness this encounter. Someone who I wouldn’t classify as a believer summed it up well, basically saying, ‘he didn’t want anything to do with that New Testament line you said to him.’ I had said one sentence, and it resonated more with the non-believing listener than this man’s whole spiel. Why? Not because of eloquence, not because of anything in me – but because I interjected the Word of God into the equation – not quoting Scripture, not preaching Scripture – just acknowledging Scripture’s existence.

I then used this as an opportunity to talk to my co-workers. ‘I would like to think,’ I said, ‘that if God decided to speak to me in an audible, booming voice tonight, it would not change my faith. He has already spoken to me clearly in the Scriptures, and I believe all that he has said there:

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in His excellent Word.
What more can he say than to you He hath said? To you, who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

I prayed as I drove home tonight. I said, ‘Father, you meant that conversation for my good. What are you going to do with it? What do you want me to do with it?’ No audible answer came. But I was reminded of the centrality of the gospel. The fact that this man’s gospel-less experience drove me back to the gospel is good.

There was no gospel in this man’s presentation, and no testimony in the biblical sense of the word. There was no sin, no falling down at Jesus’ feet and saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinner!’ There was no forgiveness of sin. There was no cross, no blood, no sacrifice, no spiritual redemption, no new heavens, no new earth. In some strange way there wasn’t even a resurrection. It was just an experience of happiness and blessing that could be mine if I witnessed for Jesus too. I cannot imagine that anyone could come to saving faith from such a conversation.

The Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians that he was blessed to ascend into the third heaven. He couldn’t tell them anything about it. It was too glorious. So instead of talking about that he talked about the gospel:

For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified (1 Cor. 2:2).

If the man comes back, and I hope he does, I’m determined that this is what we’ll talk about as well.

Luke 16:27 And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house- 28 for I have five brothers- so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ 29 But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’ 30 And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.'”

Share the gospel, the GOSPEL – Jesus coming, dying, rising, returning. Even your own resurrection won’t convince them, only the good news of Christ’s provision and victory.

Romans 1:16 ¶ For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes…

I have people telling me regularly that I need to read books like Heaven is for Real. I usually just smile and say, ‘Thanks for the recommendation.’ But silently, I say to myself, ‘I already know that – Praise God – I have his infallible Word.’

You don’t have to be on an operating table, nor do you have to be on your knees, to meet Jesus. You can meet him, learn of him, encounter him in the Bible – only then will you really be driven to your knees and have peace in the face of death.

The Post that Was Supposed to be About Lewis and Chesterton but Turned into a Rant on Footnotes

This post is a bit of a mishmash (you’ve been warned). It’s also a bit of a rant (warning number 2). But aside from that I actually have something that is, I believe, important to say and that I will certainly revisit in the near future.I planned to simply write the ‘great insight’ I felt I had gained in some recent reading. I actually sat down at the keyboard for that purpose. Yet first I must rant. And rant I will. I will sit in my recliner, à la Pierre Bernard (think old school Conan O’Brien), and rage on a totally random and unimportant subject.

I am currently reading Branches to Heaven: The Geniuses of C.S. Lewis, by James Como. I discovered a couple of quotes in that book that I find extremely helpful. That is the main reason for this post. But before I actually get to this wonderful discovery (at least for me) I must rant.

The book lacks footnotes and direct references in most cases. There is a giant appendix of ‘works consulted’ at the end – woopty-doo. This is the third such book I have dealt with in the last month – all relating to Lewis and Tolkien – and all without footnotes for the most part. Apparently I have been spoiled because all of the biographies I have read in the past cite references for their quotes (and I’ve read quite a few). So I did some digging to see what the proper writing etiquette for biographies is/was but have pretty much come up with nothing substantial. Apparently all bets are off – it seems to be a matter of taste – which is fine, I guess. In one of the said biographies the author at least attempts to justify his lack of footnotes in the introduction. If Como does that I somehow missed it.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no axe to grind with the author of this particular book per se. I don’t know a thing about the man other than what’s listed in the brief bio on the back flap of the book and I’m learning a good bit from the book. Bravo to the author for the information. My rant-worthy issue is lack of footnotes in general. So I use my experience with his book as a springboard to vent the frustration.

Some people hate footnotes. I get it. They’re distracting, they take up too much space. But they (can you believe it?) can actually be helpful. Such would certainly have been the case in this particular book. For I found a quote that I knew immediately would be helpful – one I would want to remember, one I’d want the context for. And guess what. You guessed it, no footnote. Not even a vague hint at where the quote came from.

Google saves the day!

Thankfully, I was able to use Google, as always, and find the source. But it was not easy. Gentlemen, ladies, brothers, sisters, writers, scholars, it should not be so.

In a bit of irony that I cannot pass up, the great quote I read in the current book under discussion refers to Lewis’ statement that to read of Edmund Spenser is ‘ to grow in mental health’.’  Apparently the reading of a detailed and quote-filled book with no footnotes is to retard or regress mental health . It’s also not good for my mental health that he takes said statement of Spenser’s writing causing one to ‘grow in mental health’ and applies the same quote to the writing of Kenneth Grahame (in quotation marks no less, with no reference). I don’t doubt that Lewis might have felt that way about Grahame. Indeed I feel that way about Grahame, which I will touch on in my follow-up. But did Lewis actually say this about Grahame, or not? I can’t help but think he didn’t. It would seem he’s simply applying a quote from Lewis about one particular author to another without acknowledging that he is doing so. But I could be wrong – or insane, especially at this point in the discussion. My mental health is in flux.

(For the record Como uses the quote concerning Spenser on page 19, his book is actually named after a portion of the quote in its broader context, and he uses it again about Grahame on page 68 and does not cite its origin in either place. Perhaps a great Lewis expert would simply know the origin. But it’s not only the experts who read biographies)

But I digress. Who am I kidding? This is one big digression. Let the digression continue. Proceed with the mishmashing.

The issue with using footnotes…is common courtesy.

A few years ago I read James Stewart’s book on preaching, Heralds of God. Out of everything in that book, the point that hit me the most forcefully, and has stuck with me, is this (from chapter 3, The Preacher’s Study, Integrity demands that I cite it!): He urges preachers to labor with all their might in sermon preparation. This laboring involves precision and clarity of thinking. To present a message to people that is not clear, that is muddled, that lacks logical precision, is to put a burden on them that is supposed to be on you.

Let me flesh that out. Stewart makes the point that a congregation should not be left asking questions that the preachers should have answered himself. It’s okay if they’re left asking questions about their own souls, or about particular applications. But they should not be left saying things like, ‘What does this mean? He wasn’t very clear on this. What was his point? If they are left asking such questions then the preacher has failed in his study of the text of Scripture, or at least in the delivery of his sermon. Either way, he has put the burden of ‘thinking’ on the congregation rather than assuming it himself (which is precisely what he has been called to do). It’s laziness. And it puts the preacher’s burden on the hearers. Instead of being a burden-bearer, therefore, the preacher has become a burden-giver.

To use classic preacher speech, I said all that to say this: I appreciate footnotes for this very reason – it takes the burden off of me, the reader. The issue with using footnotes therefore is common courtesy. The reason I read biographies is to gain knowledge (and/or a number of other things) from the witness of an expert on a particular person. The author is the burden-bearer. This is his great work for my information and enjoyment. When I have to stop every 10 minutes and write down quotes, or mark them, so that I can research them and find there origins later, it takes away from the reading. Such reading cannot be a pleasure. I may gain wonderful knowledge over the course of my reading, but it certainly does not do what C.S. Lewis says a good book should do – invite good reading.

Books are not blogs.

Google bailed me out in this case. The book was published in 1998. I didn’t even have the internet yet at that point.I would have been up the creek without a paddle. Books are not blogs. Scholars are not bloggers (except when they are). Cite your reference when you are quoting. I’d even encourage bloggers to do that. If you’re paraphrasing something you read years ago and don’t want to do the work the backtrack, that’s fine in my book. I get it. But cite your quotations. I’m not a professional writer. But I am a reader. And if I change one writer’s mind this has been worth my time. It’s all for the greater good!

Stay tuned for the actual post I intended to write. In the midst of my struggles I learned something (at least for me) quite helpful.

Note to Self: Write to be Understood

I just finished reading a blog (it’s one of those with multiple bloggers, some are great, some not so much) and the guy is trying to be witty. But, and I’ve seen this a lot, in his attempt to be clever he’s actually being nonsensical. That’s just annoying. Clever wittiness that is difficult to understand is not clever or witty as far as I’m concerned.

Note to self: write and speak to be understood.

1 Corinthians 14:8 And if the bugle gives an indistinct sound, who will get ready for battle?