Quote on Divine Humility by C.S. Lewis

I've seen the theme of divine humility mentioned in several of C.S. Lewis' works, but never spelled out so clearly as in The Problem of Pain:

It is a poor thing to strike our colors to God when the ship is going down under us; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up "our own" when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms: but He is not proud, He stoops to conquer, He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him, and come to Him because there is "nothing better" now to be had. The same humility is shown by all those divine appeals to our fears which trouble high-minded readers of scripture. It is hardly complimentary to God that we should choose Him as an alternative to Hell: yet even this He accepts. (p. 97)

Astonishing, to say the least!

Wisdom and Wonder by Abraham Kuyper

I'd have to write a very long post to do Wisdom and Wonder justice, but I'll be as brief as I can. 

Abraham Kuyper (1837-1920) was a Dutch theologian and political leader who wrote tirelessly on the necessity of integrating faith and life. One of his most famous themes was common grace: 

Common grace responds to the question: "How does the world go on after sin's entrance and how is it possible that 'good' things emerge from the hands of humans within and without a covenant relationship with God?" Common grace is God's restraint of the full effect of sin after the Fall.

Because of common grace, secular scientists and artists can honor God in how they pursue their fields. Kuyper's definition of science is broader than our present day view because in that term he includes all reason, knowledge, and truth. Divine thinking is embedded in all of creation. All things have proceeded from the thinking of God, from the consciousness of God, from the Word of God. God created in human beings, as his image-bearers, the capacity to understand, to grasp, to reflect, and to arrange within a totality these thoughts expressed in creation. The essence of human science rests on these realities.

Kuyper is occasionally dry, but he is never boring. He asks thought-provoking questions such as, "Would there have been art without the fall?" (Since the fall made a strong contrast between the beautiful and the ugly.) He breaks beauty down into three types: the perfect beauty of Eden, the marred beauty of this present world and the glorious beauty of Heaven. He says we get glimpses of all three kinds in our lives. Have you ever wondered why some things are so beautiful that it hurts? That is a glimpse of heavenly beauty that our human bodies can't adapt to yet.

In writing about art, he writes that it cannot be disconnected from specific standards, disproving the adage that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder." According to Scripture, beauty cannot be separated from God. Glory is, in fact, nothing other than the highest degree of beauty. Art cannot be excused from following God's law, and art disgraces itself by seeking that freedom.

On the danger of less noble forms of art (in plays, books, music, or paintings) he says, Repeated exposure to such surface sensations leads our emotions into a discordant condition, weakens our capacity for genuine sensations, and ultimately damages our emotional life.

Not an easy read, but worth the effort to wrestle with these important ideas. Though $15 for the hardcover, it's only 99 cents for Kindle.

Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist

One of my favorite books of the year has been Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist (reviewed here) so I was happy to nab one of her previous books, Bittersweet, when it went on sale for Kindle.

 Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul. Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through. . . . Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity. Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, earthy. (p. 11)

Niequist writes of her struggles after job loss, miscarriage, moves and other challenges with a quirkiness and vulnerability that are appealing. I totally "get" her confession about standing in front of the refrigerator and inhaling cold pizza before a writing deadline. I, too, am a nervous wreck before beginning any major project.

She emphasizes the longings we all have and the grace that heals our brokenness. She mercilessly exposes the reasons why we try to "fix" our husbands ("we want the other person to grow because it suits our own needs better") and why we are always running on empty ("because of my insistence that I can do all, my lust for life crosses over into a cycle of frantic activity, without soul or connection.")

She addresses the soul-crushing load of always trying to meet other people's expectations. She does this in a funny way in the chapter on motherhood, but in a more serious way in her essay on priorities. "Deciding what I want [to be] isn't that hard. But deciding what I'm willing to give up for those things is like yoga for my superego, stretching and pushing and ultimately healing that nasty little person inside of me who exists only for what people think." (p. 57)

More favorite quotes: A full life is not the same as a full calendar. (p. 169)

We are where we are. The world is as beautiful and broken as it ever was, and if you're like me, it takes some tricks to get back to centered, whole, deep-breathing, faith-filled places. (p. 132)

And this funny one: Weddings are almost like birth experiences: something entirely new and sacred coming to life right in your midst. Of all the things I get to do, officiating weddings for people I love is my absolute favorite, because it's like. . . being a midwife, but with no blood or screaming. (p. 138)

This book didn't touch me as profoundly as B & W, but it is insightful, witty, and keeps it real. Worth a look.

Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist

Although it contains recipes, Bread and Wine is not a recipe book. It is a book about loving people lavishly around your dining room table. At a time when people are becoming increasingly overweight because they are looking to food to fill their need for comfort, you may wonder how anyone can celebrate tables that are groaning under the weight of sumptious food. But there is a fine distinction between overeating and eating well.

Frankly, when we eat to feel comforted, we are bound to get fat because no amount of food can ever satisfy that need. BUT when we sit around a table with loved ones and the meal is incredible, we feel loved and satisfied in two ways: primarily by the people around us and secondarily by the delicious meal.

Niequist explains her book title: Like every Christian, I recognize the two as food and drink, and also, at the very same time, I recognize them as something much greater - mystery and tradition and symbol. Bread is bread, and wine is wine, but bread-and-wine is another thing entirely. The two together are the sacred and the material at once, the heaven and earth, the divine and the daily. This is a collection of essays about family, friendships and the meals that bring us together. It´s about the ways God teaches and nourishes us as we nourish the people around us, and about hunger, both physical and otherwise, and the connections between the two. (p.11)

Modern life has pushed us into faux food and fast food and highly engineered food products cased in sterile packages that we eat in the car or on the subway - as though we were astronauts, as though we can´t be bothered with a meal... But many of us, men and women alike, at a certain point, are wandering back to the kitchen and fumbling and learning and trying to feed ourselves and the people we love, because we sense it´s important and that we may have missed something fundamental along the way. Especially for those of us who make our livings largely in front of computer screens, there´s something extraordinary about getting up from the keyboard and using our hands for something besides typing - for chopping and dicing and coaxing scents and flavors from the raw materials in front of us. There´s something entirely satisfying in a modern, increasingly virtual world about something so elemental - heat, knife, sizzle. (p. 14, 16)

I´m coming to see that the table is about food, and it´s also about time. It´s about showing up in person, a whole and present person, instead of a fragmented person, phone in hand and a to-do list in the other. Put them down, both of them, twin symbols of the modern age, and pick up a knife and fork. The table is where time stops. It´s where we look people in the eye, where we tell the truth about how hard it is, where we make space to listen to the whole story, not the textable sound bite. (p. 257)

Not all the essays are about food. Some are about her struggles with infertility. Others are just about the craziness of life. As a non-drinker I found the free-flowing alcohol at her gatherings to be a bit bewildering, but I withheld my judgement because the primary theme of the book really resonated with me. Sharing our lives around the table is one of the easiest ways to reflect the lavish love of Christ.

Footnote: Babette´s Feast is a Danish film that excellently portrays this "grace upon grace" at the meal table.

Babette's Feast - Worthwhile Movie #7

My husband and I just watched Babette's Feast for the tenth time.  It’s been an almost biennial event since it came out in 1987.  The film is in Danish with English subtitles and won the Oscar for best foreign film the year of its release.  It is based on the story by Isak Dinesen (of Out of Africa fame.)  Dinesen first landed on my radar because author Elisabeth Elliot quoted her so often.

Babette’s Feast tells the story of two maiden ladies living in an isolated Danish village.  Their father had started a religious sect, but after his death the members met more out of obligation than out of mutual love.   A poor French woman shows up at their door seeking refuge and though they have no money to pay her, the sisters take her in as their servant in exchange for room and board.

Many years pass and Babette finally has an opportunity to repay the sisters for their kindness.  It’s a remarkable story of grace and lavish love told through the metaphor of food.  A slow moving and sumptuous film. 

Families Where Grace Is In Place by Jeff VanVonderen

This is not another how-to-have-a-perfect-family book. In Van-Vonderen’s own words, “this book is more about learning the right job, and less about learning new techniques. The first step is easy – if we will do it: We must learn the simple difference between God’s job and ours. God’s job is to fix and change. Our job is to depend, serve, and equip.” (p. 15)

The book recounts the differences between grace-filled families and families that shame their loved ones into good behavior. The author uses the labels “grace-full” and “curse-full”. By curse he doesn’t mean that family members curse each other, but that they live by behavior patterns that are a result of the fall. After Adam and Eve rejected God’s plan for them to live in perfect relationship with Him (and each other), human relationships became power-oriented. Curse-full families try to control the behavior of spouses and children. Grace-full families slowly release parental control by training their kids to make good choices.

While there are no earth shattering truths in Families Where Grace Is in Place, the book offers much food for thought. For instance, VanVonderen points out that children have three basic needs: to know they are loved with no strings attached, to know that they are valuable and capable, and to know that they are not alone to face life. Within the context of meeting these needs parents give their children the skills they need to live healthy lives that are pleasing to God. (It’s tempting to think that “perfect behavior” is pleasing to God, but you won’t get that message if you read this book. Grace by definition cannot be based on performance.) VanVonderen constantly reminds the reader that God extended grace to us before we were worthy (Rom 5:8). For that reason we can extend love to our children even when they mess up.

It’s not about “controlling”, but empowering to make good decisions. (Hmm… sounds a lot like another book I read this past summer.) We shouldn’t try to fix everything for our children. Instead we teach them to take responsibility for their own actions. “In curse-full relationships, rules and performance take the place of people and needs. In a family that seeks to be a place of grace, relationships are there to make sense of the rules. A grace-full family is the place where people can do the job of learning to live without the fear of losing love and acceptance if the job gets too messy.” (p.129)

I was challenged by this book to be more honest about my feelings when family conflicts occur. The author points out that avoiding friction by squashing emotions is unhealthy and DISHONEST. Does that mean I’m going lambast everybody in my family now? Hardly. My goal is to be a grace-filled parent who knows the difference between God’s job and mine. And I trust He’ll give me the grace to speak up when I need to.

Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton

A Wycliffe missionary couple lost their oldest son in a car accident a few years ago. That same year they returned to work with a Brazilian Indian tribe. The tribe had been indifferent to Christianity for 15 years, but suddenly many began to turn to God. It was astounding to hear the missionary say, “It was the worst year of my life. And the best year of my life.”

Cry, the Beloved Country is a book that comes close to describing this mysterious relationship between suffering and grace in our world. I’ve had the book for years but never cracked it open till I read Amy’s praise of it at “Hope is the Word” (I’m not linking to her post because it gives too many details). Believe me, it’s better to go into this book completely cold to gain its full impact.

If you like formulaic books with all the loose ends tied up neatly in the end, this book is not for you. It doesn’t even come close to being a “happy” book. Initially I was put off by its sad tone and the irregular language (purposely made to imitate Zulu translated into English). But it is one of the most painfully beautiful books I’ve ever read.

Cry, the Beloved Country is the story of an Anglican priest, Stephen Kumalo, who lives in South Africa in the year 1946. He and his wife live in semi-poverty in the village of Ndotsheni. Their tribe is disintegrating as the young people go to the big city to look for jobs. In the story he goes to Johannesburg to discover what has become of his sister, his brother, and his only son. His search brings many unpleasant surprises and yet there are threads of grace running throughout the narrative. The avalanche of grace at the end of the book is countered by the most painful experience in Kumalo’s life. For the second time in a very few months I wept uncontrollably over the ending of a book. But NOT because of the suffering. I was overcome by the MERCY.

In conversation with Kumalo, one of his friends states, “This world is full of trouble, umfundisi (pastor). “Who knows better than I?” responds Kumalo. “Yet you believe?” queries the other. Kumalo looked at him under the light of the lamp. “I believe he said, but I have learned that it is a secret. Pain and suffering, they are a secret. Kindness and love, they are a secret. But I have learned that kindness and love can pay for pain and suffering. There is my wife, and you, my friend, and these people who welcomed me, and the child who is so eager to be with us here – so in my suffering I can believe. (p.260-261)

I appreciated that men of faith were described realistically with faults and temptations. Yet they were also portrayed as men of integrity and not the dolts of popular media.

This is an amazing book that I will not soon forget!

The Real Meaning of "Prodigal"

Occasionally I'll come across a word definition that leaves me gobsmacked. Imagine my astonishment when I learned the real meaning of the word "prodigal" in my recent meanderings through literature. (It comes up twice in Count of Monte Cristo.) I've been raised on Bible stories since babyhood and have a degree in theology so you'd think I would have known what it really means. In common (incorrect) usage a "prodigal" is someone who leaves and then returns. In actuality it means: someone who is wastefully extravagant. It makes perfect sense in the context of the story of the Prodigal Son. But it makes even more sense to say that his father was "prodigal" because he was wildly lavish with his forgiveness and grace. I'll say it again, I'm astonished!

Related words:

prodigious - impressively great in size, enormous

prodigy - a person with exceptional talent or powers

(painting by Rembrandt)

Hard Times by Charles Dickens

I had the best of intentions when I went to the library to check out Bleak House. But as I saw it sitting there, clearly the thickest book on the shelf, my heart quaked a little. Almost unintentionally I reached over to the right and picked up its much slimmer neighbor, Hard Times . I had been looking for anything written about/during the Industrial Revolution so I figured Hard Times would fit the bill just as well. I was hooked from the beginning with the humorous school room scene and Mr. Gradgrind’s no-nonsense approach to learning. He was described as a “kind of cannon loaded to the muzzle with facts, and prepared to blow them clean out of the regions of childhood at one discharge.”(p. 13)

I have expressed my dissatisfaction with Dickens on other occasions, but I am learning to like him. This book had some fine writing, a good variety of characters, plenty of British understated witticisms, and an intriguing story. But, frankly, I found it too depressing. Since Dickens wrote many of his novels as serials with weekly chapters in the newspaper he had to leave his readers hanging in suspense until the next chapter. I personally don’t enjoy having my emotions toyed with in that way. My favorite character from the beginning of the book had so much suffering heaped upon in him in chapter after chapter that I thought it was a mercy when he finally died. Emotionally I just couldn’t take any more.

The back of the book says it’s a diatribe against the havoc wreaked during the Industrial Revolution. That may be true, but it’s much more than that. The main conflict in the story is not worker against capitalist factory owner. The main contention is between head knowledge and heart knowledge. The contrast is drawn early in the story between the “facts only” Gradgrind school and the “uneducated, but full-of-heart” circus people.

Two of the major victims of the head vs. heart dilemma are Gradgrind’s own children. Tom’s feelings have been denied all his life and almost as soon as he leaves home he gives himself over to sensual appetites. His sister, Louisa, marries a man she doesn’t love because her father tells her it’s the sensible thing to do. His “proposal” to Louisa is heartbreaking in its coolness. So is her acceptance. Later she discovers that she does have a heart and that all her father’s educational principles had failed to prepare her for real life. Chapter 8 is the final showdown between the circus’ folks’ view of the world and Gradgrind’s. The shocking revelation is that without heart there can be no grace: It was a fundamental principle of the Gradgrind philosophy that everything was to be paid for. Nobody was ever on any account to give anybody anything, or render anybody help without purchase. Gratitude was to be abolished, and the virtues springing from it were not to be. Every inch of the existence of mankind, from birth to death, was to be a bargain [agreement] across the counter. (p.283) Gradgrind discovers too late that his man-made, sensible world is a living hell that offers him no mercy when he most needs it.

A very intriguing book!