Read Any Good Books Lately? - Part 2

This is a continuation from the final chapter of Stephen Nichols book, 5 Minutes in Church History on the goodness of reading:

But what happens when we read? I can tell you a little bit about what's happened to me when I read. I've read G.C. Berkouwer's The Providence of God and Jonathan Edwards' A History of the Work of Redemption, and since reading those books, I've never thought about God and what he's doing in the world in the same way. I've read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship and his letters from his six-by-nine-foot cell at Tegel prison, and I've been made aware that I have only a faint idea of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.

I've read Flannery O'Connor, Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, and William Faulkner, and as I've read them I've been entertained and I've even been shocked. I've even been brought to repentance when I've been touched by the unveiling of the rich texture of humanity.

I've allowed the prince of Denmark to remind me how stale and flat and unprofitable all the promises of life under the sun seem. I've read the tale of Lady Macbeth and of how unhealthy ambition can breed in the dark chambers of the human heart and produce the offspring of hatred and evil. I've learned of the emptiness of what so many value and think to be so worthwhile.

I've read John Milton, who laments the great loss of what was ours as Adam and Eve leave the garden. I've listened in as Milton has them waste away the hours in endless bickering, before Milton then takes Adam's arm and places it around Eve, and puts these words in this mouth: "But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive in offices of Love, how we may light'n each others burden in our share of woe." I've read Emily Dickenson the playful and poignant poet: "I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too?" I've watched Captain Ahab relentlessly pursue the white whale.

And I've read the parchments by Paul himself, where he tells us: "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, what is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things" (Phil. 4:8). Books help us do that. They lay out for us the whole breadth of the human condition, reflect the best of man's creative work as God's image bearer, and point out our need for a Savior, the glory of God.

Good words, I think. I need to set aside more time to read, and in the process, learn more about myself, others, and the world that God has created.

Read Any Good Books Lately? - Part 1

As we have less time for social interactions these days, reading is a great alternative to television, Netflix, and other distractions. In the last chapter of his book, 5 Minutes in Church History, Stephen Nichols asks the question, "Read any good books lately?" I thought I would share it with you because it's a good reminder of what reading has to offer us. I'll spread this over two posts. Here is the first part:

In 2 Timothy 4:13, Paul writes: "When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments." We essentially have the voicing of the needs of a tired, old man. The evenings are growing chillier and he needs his cloak, and for once in his very busy life, he finds himself with time on his hands.

What we are seeing here is what matters most to Paul. As John Calvin says, commenting on the verse, "The apostle had not given over reading though he was already preparing for death." So Paul wants his books, and he especially wants his parchments. Much effort has been expended in trying to identify these books and parchments. Most assume the parchments to be Scripture, as Paul asks for these "above all."

As for the books, that's another story. Were they Plato? Aristotle? Rhetoric, perhaps? Or Logic? Or Nicomachean Ethics? Maybe there was a history, perhaps Paul's well-thumbed-through Thucydides. Maybe one of the books was Aratus; Paul liked to quote the poet, and he quoted him while he was on Mars Hill in Athens. We forget sometimes that Paul was a scholar.

Whatever the identity of the books and the parchments, we do know something for certain about Paul: he loved to read. Books lay out for us the whole breadth of the human condition, reflect the best of man's creative work as God's image-bearer, and point out our need for a Savior, to the glory of God. This concept may be somewhat foreign to us, as reading has fallen on hard times in our technologized culture - entertainment, preferably the visual kind, is in. What Neil Postman said two decades ago is probably all the more true in our day. We have "amused ourselves to death." We have anesthetized ourselves to where we are comfortably numb. Fahrenheit 451is, I'm afraid, off the mark. There's really no need to burn books. People aren't reading them anyway.

We'll finish this in the next post.

There is a God

J. Gresham Machen was an early 20th century theologian who founded the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and left a legacy at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, PA. He fought the good fight against modernist tendencies to disparage the truth of the Bible, and raise up human beings as the ultimate arbiters of truth and morality. Machen was hopeful that others would continue on after him.

In his book, 5 Minutes in Church History, Stephen J. Nichols recounts Machen's hope for the world. Machen wrote:

"There's only one alternative to this modernist worldview," this worldview that futilely attempts to push God out. Machen then simply declares: "The alternative is that there is a God. A God who in His own good time will bring forward great men again to do His will, great men to resist the tyranny of experts, and lead humanity out again into the realms of light and freedom. Great men above all who will be the messengers of His grace. There is far above any earthly mountain peak of vision a God high and lifted up, who although He is infinitely exalted, yet he cares for His children among men."

The Pursuit of Happiness

In chapter 29 of his book, 5 Minutes in Church History, Stephen Nichols reaches back to the early 17th century to help us understand the "pursuit of happiness." Famously stated in the Declaration of Independence, the pursuit of happiness has been variously defined over the millennia. In this chapter, Nichols explores the writings of Puritan theologian, William Ames. Ames believes that the study of theology is the source of happiness.

Theology is not just thinking toward God: theology is living toward God....Ames closely [follows] Thomas Aquinas [who argued that] theology is taught by God, teaches about God, and leads to God. Thomas will later expand on this idea of theology leading to God by telling us that theology leads us to worship God. The end of theology is worship.

Once Ames defines what theology is, with a little help from his friend Thomas Aquinas, Ames reaches all the way back to the days of the Greek philosophers. He reaches back to Plato and Aristotle and the age-old discussion of what constitutes the good life. What is happiness, and what brings happiness? To get at this, Ames uses two Greek words. The first is euzoia, and the second is eudaimonia. Now, euzoia means living well. We would simply say, the good life. And eudaimonia means living happily. We would simply say, happiness. And then Ames said theology is this. Theology is the good life and theology is happiness.

You want the good life? You want happiness? Be a theologian. Ames writes: "Theology therefore, is to us, the ultimate and the noblest of all the exact teaching arts. It is a guide and master plan for our highest end, sent in a special manner from God, treating of divine things, tending towards God, and leading man to God." Theology is living the Godward life, the happy life.

Everyone can be a theologian. Just spend time in the Word, read commentaries, and other resources. Be a student of God. The more we learn about God, the more we will live the life that He has set out for us.

What a Difference a Word Makes

I'm uncovering more interesting things as I make my way through 5 Minutes in Church History.

In chapter 19, the author points out how pivotal accurate translations of the Bible are. As Luther studied the Bible, he also studied translations; specifically, he poured over the differences between the Latin and Greek translations:

In the first thesis [of the 95], he wrote, "When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, 'Repent,' He intended that the entire life of believers should be repentance." Now, it's fascinating that Luther would say that. In 1516, Desiderius Erasmus published his critical Greek New Testament with the Greek text on one side and the Latin text on the other side. A copy made its way to Wittenberg, and Luther read it. He poured himself into this Greek text, and he realized early on that the Latin text mistranslated Christ's first sermon, in which He says, "Repent." The Latin has poenitentiam agite, which translates to "do penance." Luther knew enough Greek to know that's not a good translation. In fact, he goes on to tell us in his second thesis, "The word 'repentance' cannot be understood to mean the sacrament of penance or the act of confession and satisfaction administered by priests."

We have to engage with the Word of God with great honor and care. Careless translations can lead people astray and can - as in this case - enslave them to obligations which do not draw them nearer to God, but create distance. Remember, there is nothing we can do to earn God's favor or salvation. It is a gift given freely by him to his people. With that gracious gift in mind, act in your life not to gain his favor, but in gratitude, acknowledging the favor already given. In this, you will find peace and rest.

Clinging to Christ

I'm continuing to make my way through a book by Stephen J. Nichols, 5 Minutes in Church History. The lastest chapter was on "Mrs. Luther," Martin Luther's wife. Katie. Her life is inspiring. Here is a brief account of how she had to lean on Christ after her husband died in 1546.

Katie was an early riser; Luther called her the "morning star of Wittenberg." She would be up at 4 a.m., and she had plenty of things to keep her busy. She ran the family farm. At one point, she ran a brewery. Martin and Katie had six children, one of whom died in infancy. And there were a few more orphaned relatives whom the Luthers took in and raised. The house was always full of students and travelers.

When Martin died in 1546, Katie's life was difficult. War and the plague had racked Wittenberg. This affected their lands and their home. At one point, Katie had to flee the city, and she came back only to find that their farm was in utter ruin. Without her husband's income as a professor or pastor, she was in dire financial stress. She once wrote to a friend, "I find myself clinging to Christ like a burr to a dress."

Perhaps there we learn a singular insight from the life and legacy of Luther. We see in Katie this emphasis on Christ, this clinging to Christ when all else is lost. We see there the essence of Luther's theology and the essence of the Reformation.

If we all really understood how much we need Christ, we would cling to him like Katie did..."like a burr to a dress."

Get Over Yourself!

Navel-gazing refers to the excessive focus and concentration on the self. Call it "the belly button generation." Like infants who have just discovered their belly buttons, we are captivated by ourselves. It might be OK for infants to not be much aware of the world beyond their own selves, but as we grow up we need to see that there's a world around us, or we will lead rather shallow lives. At some point, we must outgrow our fascination with ourselves. This is yet another reason to study church history. We need to know that we are not the center of the universe. More importantly, we need to be reminded of what matters most. In this regard, we can receive guidance from one of the towering figures in church history: Augustine of Hippo.

....From the very first word of The Confessions, Augustine wants his readers to know what's important. The first word in the Latin is magnus. It is usually translated "great," and one recent translation refers to it as "vast." Augustine uses the word to refer to God. The first word and the truth it represents control Augustine's great book. There is something and someone far greater than us. The Greatest, in fact. After Augustine calls God the Greatest, he refers to himself as a mere segment, a dot. Now that's perspective. Rather than starting with our own belly button, we start with eyes upward, enthralled and awed by the transcendent greatness, magnitude, and vastness of God....While we are in this world, with its mixed-up perspective that sees people as big and God as small, we can magnify the greatness of God in our hearts and minds.

[excerpt from 5 Minutes in Church History by Stephen J. Nichols]

St. Ignatius of Antioch

I bought a book recently entitled, 5 Minutes in Church History, by Stephen J. Nichols. It contains short stories about people who have made a difference for God's people. In chapter 2, the author focuses on St. Ignatius, a disciple of the apostle John.

Ignatius was Bishop of Antioch who had to deal with many false teachers. In particular, he had to confront the false teachings related to Gnosticism which claimed that Christ did not come in the flesh, he really wasn't born, he really didn't live, he really didn't die on the cross, and he really didn't rise again.

Ultimately, Ignatius wants the false teachers to see the truth of the gospel. He declares:

Only you must pray for them, if by any means they may be brought to repentance. For if the Lord were in the body in appearance only, and were crucified in appearance only, then am I also bound in appearance only. And why have I also surrendered myself to death, to fire, to the sword, to the wild beasts? But I endure all things for Christ, not in appearance only, but in reality. That I may suffer together with Him, while He Himself inwardly, strengthens me: for of myself I have no such ability.

St. Ignatius went on to suffer a martyr's death. It was important to him that his suffering was real and meaningful, like that of Christ himself. This message mattered to him.

Under the Roman emperor Trajan, Ignatius gave his life to the faith because he failed to deny Christ but instead confessed Him. He became one of the first martyrs of church history.