Friday, July 31, 2020

What I Read and Watched in July

With my son and his wife visiting from the U.S., there hasn't been much time for reading, but we've watched half a dozen movies. Considering our different tastes, the votes were commonly cast for older family favorites such as the first Star Wars trilogy and the Lord of the Rings extended versions. Star Wars seemed a bit silly after LOTR, but it was still fun. I hadn't seen the Star Wars films for many years and had never seen them with the changes made by George Lucas in the remastered DVDs (released in 2004).

As far as reading goes, I'm halfway through four titles, but finished Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens (review next week) and Linnets and Valerians by Elizabeth Goudge.
The Dickens title was plain hard work, but listening to Mil Nicholson at Librivox helped a lot. Most of Linnets and Valerians was delightful, but the far-reaching effects of the black magic on several of the main characters robbed the book of some of its charm. If I had read it as a fairy tale rather than a middle grade adventure story, it might have been less disturbing.

I watched two Hallmark mysteries: Fixer Upper: Framed for Murder & Chronicle Mysteries: The Deep End. And I enjoyed this 45 minute YouTube video of James Clear summarizing his book Atomic Habits.

Anybody else still in a reading slump? Any good books or movies to recommend?

Blessings,

Friday, July 24, 2020

A Culture of Boredom

In a culture that craves the big, the entertaining, the dramatic, and the shocking, cultivating a life with space for silence and repetition is necessary for sustaining a life of faith. Once a student complained to his professor about having to read Augustine's Confessions. "It's boring," the student whined. "No, it's not," the professor responded. "You're boring." What he meant is that when we gaze at the richness of the gospel and the church and find them dull and uninteresting, it's actually we who have been hollowed out. We have lost our capacity to see wonders where true wonders lie.

(from Tish Harrison Warren's Liturgy of the Ordinary, p. 34)

Blessings,

Friday, July 10, 2020

The Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren

Do your daily small tasks really matter in the whole scheme of things? In Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Warren walks us through the rhythms of a typical day and highlights lessons that can be learned from each simple practice.

Christians are taught to look for a radical life, a life of conspicuous sacrifice and service - a life that seems obviously set apart for something more than the mundane and unimportant... We tend to want a Christian life with all the dull bits cut out. Yet God made us to spend our days in rest, work, and play, taking care of our bodies, our families, our neighborhoods, our homes. What if all these boring parts matter to God? What if days passed in ways that feel small and insignificant to us are weighty with meaning and part of the abundant life that God has for us?

She emphasizes that it is in the dailiness of the Christian faith - the making of the bed, the doing of the dishes, the praying for our enemies, the reading of the Bible, the quiet, the small - that God's transformation takes root and grows. Evangelicals tend to focus on a "radical Christianity" full of excitement, passion and risk. Quoting Eugene Peterson, she writes, There is little enthusiasm for the patient acquisition of virtue, little inclination to sign up for the long apprenticeship in what earlier generations of Christians called holiness.

In addition to a radical faith, we American Christians love a productive faith. The busier we are in God's work, the more spiritual we feel. But Tish gently reminds us that if we realize that ALL we do is for God's glory (even the mundane), it helps us to resist the idolatry of work and accomplishment. She reiterates this in her chapter on rest where she writes that sleep reminds us that ultimately it is God who does the work. When we lie down at the end of the day, it is a confession of our limits and a recognition of the holiness of rest and the blessedness of unproductivity. As we stop all our "doing," we joyfully acknowledge God's watchcare over our lives.

This is not a book that will bowl you over, but it is a perfect book to read during lockdown. I, as a missionary, appreciated this careful analysis of what a life of faithfulness looks like, especially when opportunities for [frantic] Christian service have been curtailed.

Blessings,

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

What I Read and Watched in June

One of my bookstagram friends wrote that she is re-reading old favorites because she doesn't have the cognitive energy to tackle anything new. I keep hearing about the lethargy caused by the Covid crisis and agree that my capacity to read deeply and then to write out my thoughts has been much harder in recent months. Blogging has taken a serious hit.

I managed to get through three novels in June: L.M. Montgomery's Emily Climbs, Mary Stewart's suspenseful Madam, Will You Talk? (during which I had to take in deep gulps of air at the end of each chapter because I had forgotten to breathe), and Dorothy Sayers' Murder Must Advertise. The non-fiction I completed was Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren, and Foundations of Wesleyan-Arminian Theology (for an upcoming class.) I also listened to the short book, Where is God in a Coronavirus World? by John C. Lennox.

I watched 3 episodes of PBS' The Great American Read and don't think I'll finish it. Harrison Ford's newest movie, The Call of the Wild, was okay, but I could never emotionally connect with the CGI animals. The murder mystery, A Bundle of Trouble was pleasant, but unremarkable - except for the fact that it was the first Hallmark movie I've seen with a transgender character.

My most surprising reading was from an online Catholic periodical called Crisis Magazine. I don't know who sent me my first free issue, but I was quickly hooked by the exceptional writing and politically conservative perspective. I am not Catholic so I skip the articles about Catholic doctrine and polity, but the other articles on culture and politics have helped to clarify my thinking. Two of my favorites were "And Then They Came for J.K. Rowling," and "Domesticity is Not Slavery."

Blessings,

Friday, June 12, 2020

Walking Faithfully with God by Kay Arthur

Do the kings and kingdoms of the Old Testament run together in your mind? If so, you are not alone. Sure, everybody know about David and Solomon, but after the kingdom was divided, forty more (mostly villainous) rulers reigned in Judah and Israel. How in the world do we keep them straight? The book Walking Faithfully with God is a great place to start.

The beauty of the inductive Bible study method is that it forces you to slow down and pay attention. This book requires you to patiently note down character traits of the major kings. It requires highlighting, reading, and re-reading. After studying a chapter in I or II Kings, you jump over to the corresponding chapter in II Chronicles to get a more complete picture of that king's life. It is VERY thorough.

Even though this was my fourth time through this book, I was still constantly amazed at the wickedness of the various kings. Though they are persistently sinful, God is persistently merciful in sending prophets to warn them to repent. After a series of discouragingly evil kings, suddenly there is a man who loves God with all his heart to remind you that God can raise up men of God under the most adverse circumstances.

The book is full of helpful maps and charts and at the end of each week there are insightful life lessons as well as discussion questions to help you dig deeper. I have been doing inductive Bible study for fifteen years, and this is far and away my favorite study. I'm always a little sad when I finish any inductive study because of the rich, fruitful hours I've spent in God's word. I hated to see this book come to an end.

Blessings,

Friday, June 5, 2020

Emily of New Moon by L.M. Montgomery


Emily of New Moon was a lovely surprise in a month when I've been suffering from reading doldrums.

The book was written in 1923 and tells the story of newly-orphaned Emily Starr who must move in with unfriendly relatives. (The Murrays had rejected her mother when she eloped with Emily's father.) In book one of the trilogy, she learns to love her new home and to grow into a brave and thoughtful young woman.

Where do I start to sing her praises? Emily has a perfect mixture of pluck and insecurity that make her endearing. She pours out her heart in long, poignant letters to her deceased father that are mixed with honest questions about life's hardships and observations about the people around her. Some of her observations made me laugh out
loud.

Emily has the gift of wonder. It had always seemed to Emily, ever since she could remember, that she was very, very near to a world of wonderful beauty. Between it and herself hung only a thin curtain; she could never draw the curtain aside - but sometimes, just for a moment, a wind fluttered it and then it was if she caught a glimpse of the enchanting realm beyond - only a glimpse - and heard a note of unearthly music..... And always, when the flash came to her, Emily felt that life was a wonderful, mysterious thing of persistent beauty.

The book is chock-full beautiful descriptions: Winter came with its beautiful bare-limbed trees, and soft pearl-grey skies that were slashed with rifts of gold in the afternoon, and cleared to a jewelled pageantry of stars over the wide white hills and valleys of New Moon. Or the description of the tin man, whose wagon is covered with pans that flash back the sunlight so dazzingly that Old Kelly seemed the beaming sun of a little planetary system all his own.

Add to that all the delicious literary references to the Bible, Pilgrim's Progress, Shakespeare, Jane Eyre, Wordworth, Dante and Thackeray. Throw in dear, odd cousin Jimmy, Father Cassidy and a cast of other unique, but special friends PLUS an long unsolved mystery, and you've got a full plate of bookish delights. Very highly recommended.

Blessings,

Thursday, May 28, 2020

What I Read and Watched in May

We started the month with a re-watch of Hidden Figures, which was just as good the second time around. In general I have very little patience for Hallmark movies, but I enjoy their mysteries when I get a chance. So I was happy to find Roux the Day and Three Bedrooms, One Corpse, which were good, clean (yet forgettable) fun. BUT Fixer-Upper Mystery: Concrete Evidence was the most suspenseful HM movie I've ever watched. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

I was delighted to see that hard-to-find author, O. Douglas, (who wrote Penny Plain, a vintage favorite) had more titles available for Kindle and immediately bought six of them. I re-read Penny Plain before tackling its sequel, Priorsford. Sadly, Priorsford did not meet my expectations.

My other reads for the month were theological: The Power of the Blood of Jesus by Andrew Murray (reviewed here) and Grace, Faith and Holiness, a theology textbook that I've been reading for months. (review here)

My absolute favorite of the month was L.M. Montgomery's  Emily of New Moon, which I'll be reviewing soon.

I discovered several free books this month: 365 Meditations from George McDonald's Fiction, Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life by William Law (Christian classic, 1729), and The Last Man by Mary Shelley (possibly the first post-apocalyptic novel, 1826) I can't vouch for any of these titles, but thought if you are reading this blog, you might have similar tastes in books.

Blessings,